19 Far from the Madding Crowd: Hardy’s Victorian Tale of Pastoralism and Feminism Presented in a 21st Century Motion Picture – Sara Vogt

Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd, first published in 1874, is a fictional, pastoral tale of a young woman and the men who romantically pursue her, set in England in the late-1800s. The novel has been adapted for the screen, in movies and television mini-series, over the years. The most recent adaptation is director Thomas Vinterberg’s motion picture Far from the Madding Crowd, released in 2015, based on a screenplay by David Nicholls. While there is much in the film that is faithful to the novel, it departs from Hardy’s story in two major ways. First, Vinterberg has softened and toned down the independence of the heroine Bathsheba Everdene and altered the nature of some of her interactions with Gabriel Oak, one of the three pursuers. Second, while the scenery is beautiful and feels accurate, the pastoral elements of the story do not have the same influence on the characters’ lives or the same impact on the viewer as they do in the novel. These two departures from the novel result in a film that plays as more of a traditional love story in a picturesque setting, rather than as Hardy intended—an examination of an independent woman, navigating in a man’s world, and a natural world that affects the characters’ lives.

Hardy’s Everdene is a complex character; she is both strong and vulnerable. She also happens to be beautiful. Hardy’s introduction of Everdene focuses on her good looks. A gatekeeper says to Oak after a brief interaction with Everdene, “That’s a handsome maid” (Hardy 5). Shortly after, the narrator says that if one were to apprise both her face and her figure, there would be no room for criticism; rather, one would view her with a “long consciousness of pleasure” (15). Next, Hardy shows Everdene to be a rare, independent, young woman in refusing a man’s most entreating marriage proposal. Her reason? “I don’t love you,” she says plainly to Oak (27). No other excuses offered. As fate offers her a change in circumstances by the death of her wealthy uncle, Everdene seizes the opportunity of a new life by moving to his great farm in Weatherbury and taking over management of it singlehandedly. Hardy continues to build the strong and independent side of Everdene’s character early on through her dismissing of the property bailiff, firm-handed interactions with her laborers, success bartering at the Corn Market, and her power over Oak, who fortuitously comes back into her life, now in the humble role of shepherd of her own flocks.

Critics have had over one hundred years to analyze and debate Everdene’s true nature. Shapiro describes how some see Everdene as a “selfish, cold and controlling hussy” while others as “masochistically passive” (Shapiro 11, 12). Feminists have seen her as both goddess and victim (Shapiro 12). Shapiro draws attention to occasions when Hardy’s narrator specifically refuses to examine Everdene’s motives for her actions. When the reader does not know the character’s motives, this allows for possibilities. Shapiro concludes that Hardy’s choice in not revealing all her motives is in keeping with Everdene’s “contradictory qualities” throughout the novel. That Everdene can be both “tough and vulnerable” (Shapiro 13) is to portray her as a real person with contradictions. These contradictions are seen in Everdene’s interactions with her three romantic, male pursuers.

Everdene’s three male pursuers are the faithful and patient Gabriel Oak, the unhinged and obsessed Mr. Boldwood, and the cavalier and selfish Sergeant Frank Troy. Everdene is the more controlling person in her relationship with Oak: she turns down his marriage proposal and she is his master on the farm. With Boldwood, Everdene becomes a victim. After she impetuously sends a valentine to Boldwood as a joke, he becomes obsessed with having her, to the point that he cannot believe or accept her repeated refusals of marriage. With Troy, however, Everdene’s vulnerable side shows. She tries to convince herself that she does not want Troy, goes off to warn him about Boldwood’s possible violence, and then, when she is in a compromising situation with Troy, she marries him. In all these relationships, while Hardy has shown Everdene to be occasionally vulnerable, his overall picture is a strong, female character, alone in the world, independently making her own choices about how she wants to live her life, or a feminist.

What is Everdene like in the film? Vinterberg’s Everdene is indeed beautiful, and variably strong or vulnerable, but she seems less independent. For instance, in the novel, when Everdene visits the Corn Market to barter, she goes alone; in the film, she brings her lady’s maid, Liddy. However, this change in Everdene is minor compared to how Vinterberg filmed the scenes between Everdene and Oak. As their scenes together begin to build up throughout the film, the viewer realizes that the camera takes Everdene’s view in her interactions with Oak, and lingers over her long looks and glances, as if she is the one nursing an unrequited love for him, not the other way around. Oak does not mention his past feelings or former proposal to Everdene, and he faithfully supports her at the farm, just as in the novel. But there are both scene and dialogue changes in the movie from the novel that make the viewer feel that, along with the building of mutual respect and genuine friendship, Everdene’s love interest in Oak is growing ever so slowly. This is simply not part of Hardy’s story.

For instance, in the scene in the book when Everdene’s flock of sheep becomes ill after eating early clover, there is no one to cure them except Oak, who she dismissed in a fit of anger the day prior for his condemnation of her behavior toward Boldwood. In the novel, even after workers tell Everdene all the animals will surely die, she does not want to send for Oak. Everdene’s adamant. “Never will I send for him—never!” she says firmly (Hardy 124) and does not waver until she witnesses more sheep die. Everdene relents and sends men who come back without Oak, as he is not content to come at her rude command. Next, Everdene sends Oak a hastily written note, but ends it with a sincere plea, “Do not desert me, Gabriel!” (126). This is enough to turn his heart, and he comes back and saves the flock. Everdene’s actions here portray a desperate and inexperienced farmer willing to do anything to save her flock. Everdene really did not want to see Oak again.

In contrast, in the film version of this scene, Everdene does not hesitate to send a man to fetch Oak when the sheep are sick. When Oak refuses to come to Everdene’s aid the first time, Everdene mounts her horse and rides out to get him in person. When Everdene arrives, she exclaims, “Gabriel, Gabriel, please don’t desert me, Gabriel. I need your help.” After Oak agrees, Everdene rides on the horse with Oak back to help the sheep. Vinterberg’s decision to have Everdene plead with Oak in person, using the word “please,” and then ride with him on the horse, sitting closely behind him, both reduces her independence, strength, and power over Oak, and increases their intimacy through physical proximity. Vinterberg’s directing softens Everdene’s personality and invites the viewer to picture her and Oak as a couple.

Vinterberg alters Everdene and Oak’s relationship even more in their first scene together after she has married Sergeant Troy and the newly married couple return to her home in Weatherbury. In the novel, Everdene assists Oak at night with covering the corn harvest to protect it from an oncoming storm, and she takes this opportunity to address the elephant in the room—why she ran off and married Sergeant Troy. Everdene is upset that Oak does not know exactly what happened to lead her to marry Troy, and she can’t stand to have Oak think badly of her. This is not because Everdene loves Oak, but because she wants his respect. Everdene is not ashamed of her choice, but she would be ashamed if Oak thought that she did not act honorably before her marriage, or that Troy forced the marriage, or otherwise. Everdene says to Oak: “Now I care a little for your good opinion, and I want to explain something—I have longed to do it ever since I returned, and you looked so gravely at me. For if I were to die—and I may die soon—it would be dreadful that you should always think mistakenly of me” (Hardy 228). Everdene then tells Oak her intention was to break off her engagement to Troy. Everdene tells Oak all this honestly because, as she says to him, “you are certainly under no delusion that I ever loved you” (228). While these words must pain Oak, she is speaking the truth, as always. Everdene’s character here is outspoken and strong, not romantic toward Oak.

Again, there is an alteration in the nature of the relationship between Everdene and Oak from the novel to the film. In the film, this conversation has a quite different dynamic. Vinterberg does show Everdene and Oak working closely together in the dark, stormy night to cover the corn harvest. Oak grabs hold of Everdene’s arm for safety at times, and when they are finished, both stand so close as to almost kiss. The next day, in the daylight, when Everdene addresses her marriage, she says, “Gabriel, I’ve been a fool. I’ve always had contempt for silly girls dazzled by flattery in a scarlet uniform and now I’ve done what I swore I would never do” (Far from the…). Everdene’s admission of being a “fool” and acting like other “silly girls” for falling in love, presents completely different feelings and motives for her actions than what Hardy intended. Here, these admissions weaken Everdene’s character again. In the novel, she admits no guilty feelings or shamefulness at her decision. Everdene does feel awkward about the circumstances of her marriage, and that is what she wants to clear up with Oak. In addition, the physical intimacy of the pair in the nighttime movie scene in the rain builds a romantic connection, which was completely one-sided in Hardy’s story. The narrator remarks in the book, “Bathsheba appeared to think only of the weather—Oak thought only of her just then” (227). These dialogue and scene changes are a departure from the book and make Everdene look weaker and build a romantic connect between Everdene and Oak.

Vinterberg’s softening of Everdene’s character takes away from her feminist status in the novel. Everdene goes through a tremendous amount of suffering throughout the story: the fire at her farm, the relentless pursuit of Boldwood, the stormy night nearly losing her crop, the deceit and rejection of Troy, and finally, Troy’s first “death,” and later, his actual murder by Boldwood. Vinterberg includes all these scenes in the movie. Yet, none of these episodes in the film feel as weighty on Everdene’s shoulders as they do in the novel. In the novel and movie, she does accept help from Oak and support from Liddy, but in the novel Everdene seems more isolated in her responsibilities and sufferings. Vinterberg’s portrayal of Everdene has tamped down and smoothed over her truly independent nature. The director and screenwriter have evened out Everdene’s strength and vulnerability which alters Hardy’s heroine from what he intended and gives the audience a meeker character.

The second and more minor way the movie Far from the Madding Crowd departs from the novel is in the portrayal of the landscape, both its scenic qualities and its impact on the characters’ lives. In Hardy’s novel, the setting is so prominent it is nearly its own character. Hardy set this novel in the fictional territory of Wessex, with the rural village of Weatherbury as the centerpiece. Every chapter contains long, beautifully written passages describing the landscape, the towns, the celestial skies, the seasons, the trees and plants, and the animals. There are vivid scenes of people farming and caring for animals, and architectural details of buildings. By grounding all the human interactions so firmly in the atmosphere of rural English life at the time, Hardy is attempting to preserve these fading, rural traditions and vistas that are changing so rapidly in an industrializing period. Hardy also wants to portray the unpredictability of pastoral life and how it can intrude on human happiness.

The most tragic occurrence of the unpredictable side of nature in the novel occurs in the beginning when Oak’s entire flock of sheep leap off a cliff to their deaths. In one night, Oak’s hopes and dreams as a successful farmer are dashed, and he leaves his farm behind to try to start over in the world again. The film does include this scene, and Vinterberg thoughtfully depicts the magnitude of the event and Oak’s grief at such an unexpected tragedy both for him and the sheep. This scene was necessary for the audience to understand Oak’s change in fortune and how he came to be at Everdene’s farm.

Yet, Hardy’s vivid and moving scene of the great barn and sheep shearing day is completely missing from the film version of the movie. Hardy spends pages describing first the beauty of the summer day, next the men who arrive for the shearing, and finally the great barn itself. Hardy lovingly describes details of the great, old building, and then remarks on how a person standing before such a great structure would have a feeling almost of gratitude, and quite of pride, at the permanence of the idea which had heaped it up. The fact that four centuries had neither proved it to be founded on a mistake, inspired any hatred of its purpose, nor given rise to any reaction that had battered it down, invested this simple grey effort of old minds with repose, if not a grandeur, which a too curious reflection was apt to disturb in its ecclesiastical and military compeers (Hardy 129).

In the novel, the action of this day included dialogue of the sheep shearers remarking on Everdene’s independent nature and whether she should marry Boldwood. Everdene leaves the sheep shearing barn with Boldwood, and later this evening is the shearing supper. In the film, the director has joined together a more minor scene in the novel of the sheep washing day with the supper at Everdene’s home and left out the sheep shearing day. Leaving out this scene lessens the pastoral effect of the story.

There are additional major pastoral scenes which Vinterberg either shortened, skimmed over, or omitted from the film. Most notably excluded scenes are the men in the malthouse at night scene, Everdene’s night by herself among the ferns, and Troy’s preparation of the flowers on Fanny’s grave, later ruined by the gargoyle during the night’s rain. These scenes in the book are not just backdrops but each contains important character-building descriptions, motives, dialogue, and plot movement. Hardy’s beautifully detailed descriptions of the landscape and local workers at their duties give his story real depth and history. They are also just a joy to read.

A tragic pastoral scene Vinterberg chose to cut was the missed burial of Fanny Robin. Robin was the lover of Troy before he married Everdene. Now, Robin and her child, who was Troy’s child, are dead. When Everdene is informed that Robin is dead, she has no idea, at first, that Robin had any connection with Troy, let alone had born his child. Robin was connected with Everdene’s farm through her uncle, so she arranged for her servant, Joseph Poorgrass, to pick up Robin’s casket and take it to the churchyard the same day to be buried. However, while on his journey back to the churchyard, Poorgrass is tempted to delay at the tavern with two other men and ends up drunk. The churchyard closes for the night and Poorgrass misses his opportunity to bury Robin. This terrible chance mix-up of Poorgrass and the burial starts a chain of events leading to Troy explaining to Everdene all his history with Robin, rejecting her and devastating her. Had Poorgrass buried Robin on time, the eventual outcome between Troy and Everdene might have been different. The director’s choice in leaving out this tragic, pastoral scene again lessens the impact of the pastoral setting on the plot and Everdene’s development.

Vinterberg’s Wessex and Weatherbury are picturesque and feel authentic to the period. The director shows Everdene riding on her horse with the cliffs and sea in the background. Everdene’s and Boldwood’s homes seem appropriate to the story. The candlelit dinner at Everdene’s home with her workers when she sings is riveting. However, in the movie the landscape and nature just feel like scenery for the love story, rather than part of the story itself. Of course, it is hardly ever possible for a director to fit in every detail of a novel into a movie; most director’s only have two hours to work with when making a film.

Thomas Vinterberg’s motion picture Far from the Madding Crowd should please modern audiences who would like to see heartfelt acting, beautiful, rural, English countryside, and a romantic story with a happy conclusion. Vinterberg’s directing has softened Hardy’s heroine and taken away from Hardy’s intention of showing an independent and strong, yet vulnerable character. It would be difficult for any director to capture everything that Hardy wanted to tell the reader with his scenes of pastoral life and tragedy. Yet, the film does capture the spirit of the people and the period.

Works Cited

Far From the Madding Crowd. Directed by Thomas Vinterberg and screenwriting by David Nicholls, Fox Searchlight Pictures, 2015.

Gharib, Susan. “Thomas Vinterberg’s Far from the Madding Crowd.” Cinematic Codes Reviews, March 2020.

Hardy, Thomas. Far From the Madding Crowd. Bantam Books, Bantam Classic Edition, 1982.

Shapiro, Barbara A. “Psychoanalysis and Romantic Idealization: The Dialectics of Love in Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd.” American Imago, Vol. 59, No. 1. The Johns Hopkins University Press, Spring 2002, pp. 3-26.