THOMAS HARDY—OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?

Dominion, Volume 5, Issue 1509, 3 August 1912, Page 9

THOMAS HARDY—OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?

Just fiutsidc the town of Dorchester, in a little red brick house covered over with vines and creepers, and only two stories nigh, lives Thomas Hardy, tho most famous and tho most retiring of living English men of letters. Ho is seventytwo years old, and on his last birthday, June 2, ho received the gold medal of tho Royal Society of Literature. He is still hale and hearty, but ho feols that his work is almost over. ." 'The little done, tho yast undone,'".he savs, with a touch of pathos, in 0110 of tho prefaces to a new and definitive edition of his writings; "tho more written, the raoro seems to remain to bo written, and tho night cometh. Approached recently by a writer for the Boston Transcript,'. Mr. Hardy was asked why he i.s so pessimistic a writer, why he has written at o/ico the most beautiful and tli-o most dreadful of stories and why ho has not shown more often a picture of requited love, or of requited love, that is not victimised at once by some, pitiless act of fate. Mr. Hardy replied: "You 'are a young man. 'hie cruelty of fate becomes apparent to people as they grow older. At first one may 'perhaps escape contact with it, but if one lives long enough 0110 realises that hapDincss is very ephemeral."- "But .is mil 'Ptimism a useful and sane- philosophy?" lie visitor asked. ."There's too much ■■■•-■'-tr optimise humbugging, ' and even cruel optimism," Mr. Hardy retorted. Sham optimism is really a more heartless doctrine to preach than even an exaggerated pessimism-tho latter leaves one at least on the safe side." In a new preface to "Tess of tho D'Urbervilles, Mr. Hardy has something fur<m L?* y °" tll(; sll ''J ect of pessimism: ™- Pos ? vo " CIVS on tlio Whence and tho Whereioro of things havo never been advanced by tliis pen as a consistent philosophy. Nor is it likely, indeed, that imaginative writings extending over more than forty years would exhibit a coherent scientific theory.of the universe even if it had been attempted—of that universe concerning which Spencer owns to tho 'paralysing thought' that possibly there exists no comprehension of it anywhere. But such objectless consistency never has boon attempted, and the sentiments in the following pages have been stated (rulv to be more impressions of the moment and not convictions or arguments. "That Iheso impressions hare been condemned as 'pessiniisticVas if that were a

very wicked adjective—shows a curious muddle-mindedness. It must be obvious that there is a higher characteristic of philosophy than pessimism, or titan meliorism or even than the pessimism of these critics—which i,s truth. Kxistcnco is either ordered in a certain way or it is not so ordered, and conjectures which harmonise best with cxperienco arc removed above all comparison with other conjectures which do not so harmonise. So that to say one vicsv is worse, than other views, without proving it erroneous, implies the possibility of a falso view beinj; better or moro expedient than a trne view; and no pragmatic proppings can make that, ldolum specus stand on its feet, for it postulates a prescience denied to human-

All this has served to inspire discussion and to vitalise contain aspects of recent critiques on Hardy. In a French book that is hailed as the most complete and competent estimate of Hardy that has yet appeared, F. A. Hcdgcock ranks the English novelist <u a group that includes Schopenhauer, Rcnan, Alfred do Vigny, and Leopa.i'di; and says that, like ono of his characters, lie was "an impressionable cioature, who 1 combined modern nerves with primitivo fceluigs, and was doomed by such coexistence to bo numbered among tho distressed, and to take her scourings to their exquisite extremity." In a similar spirit, a writer in tho London "Nation" says:

"Among tho civilised, such a man could find no understanding equals, and his articulate culture has probably cut him off more aud more from the men of his own countryside. Ho has withdrawn unto himself, and with all the books ho has read and tho pictures he has seen, he is not without points of resemblance' to some littlo old cottager living alone, considering God and men and weather. ... No one can read his poems and tales without seeing that Mr. Hardy is as superstitious as Henchard, who 'could not help thinking that tho concatenation of events . . . was tho scheme of some sinister intelligence bant on punishing him.' What one of his critics calls philosophy might as justly bo named superstition. Is it not almost a. superstition which inspires 'Nature's questioning,' whore 1» makes the trees and meadows ask:

Has somo vast Imbecility, Mighty to build and blend, But impotent to tend, Framed us in jest, and left us now to hazardy?

It should bo noticed that in this room the trees and meadows gaze at hiin, 'like chastened children'—in fact, a.i if they know the novels and how tho writer would humanise them with mi injection of melancholy. It is no wonder that such an artist, powerful and nobly sincere as ho is*-!shuukl bo the evil genius of his own creations."

There are two distinct standpoints, adds a writer in "The Edinburgh lieview," from which we may regard life, and It. L. .Stevenson and Thomas Hardy represent them. Tlie optimist lays stress on the good in existence; tho pessimist lays stress on the bad. Both are familiar to us in literature, and, probably, in experience. . Which of the two most nearly represents that "truth" to which Sir. Hardy gives alleghnco? The "Edinburgh Ileview" writer answers-that "both- are true, both false"; and continues:

"Each, that is to say, represents one side, or aspect, of the facts; and, if wo will see them steadily and whole, must be supplemented by the other; each is misleading when taken alone. Each is psychological—one might almost say physical; for it is conditioned by physical causes. Tho one comes naturally to a high, the other to a low vitality. Hence their alternations; for in generations,'as in individuals, vitality ebbs and ilows. The revival of pessimism in literature, and, to a lesser extent, in consciousness, is one of'tho features of our time. Its great name in European thought is Schopenhauer; but Mr. Tiosse, in a very interesting letter printed by 31. Hedgeoclc, has shown Hardy's independence of this philosopher: ideas of .this kind are in the air. The tradition on which this particular view of things rests cames to us from tho East: the interest taken in Oriental civilisations and beliefs gavo.it currency in Europe; it blended easily. enough with certain prepossessions, and commended itself to certain temperaments, and so became a fashionit is not too much to say a pose. With Hr. Hardy it would seem to bo temperamental; it forms at oiice the setting of his' experience and the mold of bis thought. He is quite curiously destitute of. the spirit of adventure—here, again, he may be contrasted with Stevensou—and adventuro is tho most distinctive note of life. '

0 to bo up and doing, 0 Uufearing and uusliamed to go In all tho uproar and the press About my'human business! My uudissuaded heart I hear Whisper courage iu'niy car. With voiceless calls, the ancient earth Summons mo to a daily birth. Thou, 0 my Love, ye, 0 my friends— Tho gist of life, the end of ends — To laugh, to lov.e, to live,- to die, Yc call mo by' the car and eye.

"Is not this worth a. century of stagnation in Wessex? Years are* measured by their content, not their number. The 'crowded hour of glorious life' passes quickly; but it carries us onward and upward, and not to have lived it is to have been less than man. , The figures on Jtr. Hardy's stage ar,e too passive for cither initiative or resistance: they are driven by their circumstances and their sluggish brute passions; they do not act. 'In stagnant vivaries they, lie.' The more energetic break away at all costs, for life is for'the adventurous: 'The kingdom of heaven sulfereth .violence, and the violent bear ,it. away.' Ho is a 'genre' •painter—in his 'genre' eminent, and even supreme. But wo do not go to him for life at its highest, or for experience as a whole.'"

Professor E. S. Bates, of Oberliu College, takes issue with this view. In one sense, he maintains, "Thomas Hardy is ■not too pessimistic, but too optimistic for us all to follow him." Ho goes on to argue (in the "International Journal of Ethics"): ' '

- "None of his characters are perfect:— Hardy is not r:o childish as to believe in. any possibilities of human perfection— and even Tess, tho saintliest of them all, feels the force of sensual temptation. None the less, I think a fair reader will realise that human nature, as seen through Hardy's eyes, is redeemed by its power of human love. To bo sure, this love even when exalted to its highest form of self-sacrifice seldom seems to produce the conventionally-expected results in mitigating human sorrow. On the contrary, wo must grant that, the world for Hardy is not a world where permanent happiness and tranquility are generally attainable. Misery is all about us, and increase of love inevitably brings increase of .suffering. Does this view make Hardy after all a pessimist? In his own eyes, I'grant, he is probably a pessimist, for in his metaphysical side-remarks (ho note of despair is beyond question often sounded. Tlio deoncr Hardy, however, whose manhood speaks to us through his spontaneous pictures of life more entirely than in his reflective remarks, I certainly call not a pessimist, but an optimist, for lie shows a worthy humanity, due to itself, unconquered by destiny, sanctified by love."