A Male Feminist: Hardy's Portrayal of When Rosemarie Morgan Claims, "hardy's Women ... Must Have Confused Many Readers Caught with Mixed Feelings of Admiration and Alarm," (morgan, Women and Sexuality in the Novels of Thomas Hardy Xiii

When Rosemarie Morgan claims, "Hardy's women ... must have confused many readers caught with mixed feelings of admiration and alarm," (Morgan, Women and Sexuality in the Novels of Thomas Hardy xiii) she brings forward a duality of reaction which reflects Hardyan heroines' characters. The confusion she refers to can be understood within the novels' historical contexts, as these female protagonists were most likely to have been quite unusual at the time of their creation. Concomitantly, today's readers are likely to be perplexed while reading Thomas Hardy's novels, as his presentation of women seems to stand out from his contemporaries with his attempts at breaking down the stereotypical characters presented in his day. Hardy's women have their faults as well as their qualities and thus they become more complete and real. This complexity makes them more human; they are not representations of the ideal Victorian housewife who is characterised by her perfection at all times. They are not only confronted with their own problems and have to make reasoned decisions, but can be just as composed and feeble as their male counterparts. As Rosemarie Morgan's comment suggests these Hardyan women provoked varied emotions, through their trials and tribulations, and my aim is to explore in what way Hardy presents his female protagonists to entice such a varied palette of reactions.

Far From the Madding Crowd's Bathsheba and Jude the Obscure's Sue have often been compared through their radical views on marriage. These two novels represent benchmarks in Thomas Hardy's career, and although his views may be offered in a different way, they do not seem to have changed from the earlier novel to the latter. Bathsheba may be rather more voluptuous and vain than Sue, nevertheless their preoccupations are similar and they appear to make the same errors in judgement. Both protagonists, as Rosemarie Morgan suggests, are "Humanly imperfect," (Morgan, Women and Sexuality in the Novels of Thomas Hardy 155) yet it is through their struggles that we seem to relate to them.

Bathsheba is first introduced as a beautiful, albeit vain young woman. We see her through a man's eyes and are thus immediately confronted with an imposed view. Oak judges Bathsheba as vain, and this trait of character will haunt her in her choices throughout the novel. By giving a man's opinion of the female protagonist Hardy lays his groundwork for what is in effect a Bildungsroman with Bathsheba as the heroine. Effectively the book opens with the same characters as it closes, yet, compared to the ever so constant Oak, Bathsheba has radically changed from her initial self.

The young girl who helps her aunt out on the farm and whose first interactions with Gabriel Oak are rather daring, show her capable of holding playful banter as well as having rather resolute ideas. The reader can rapidly relate to the innocence of her inexperience and may be intrigued by her feistiness, when she abruptly answers, "I don't want to marry you!" (79) to Oak's genuinely serious demand. Nevertheless, as with every educational novel, the main character evolves with the events that take place. When Bathsheba inherits her uncle's farm she swiftly has to take on new responsibilities. Her strong will and stubbornness allow Hardy to fully explore her independence with the sudden rise in status because of an unfortunate happenstance. She is a young woman ahead of her time and Hardy wastes no time in illustrating her capabilities, especially when she decides to take on the role of bailiff after having fired Pennyways for stealing.

The new position Bathsheba affords makes her vulnerable to a whole array of unrequited problems. Her ingenuousness and teasing nature get the better of her and create yet another delicate situation with a second suitor, Farmer Boldwood. His analogous inexperience in matters of the heart makes him vulnerable to Bathsheba's charms, although we feel torn between both characters' actions. Indeed, when Bathsheba goes along with Liddy's suggestion to send the Valentine to Boldwood, the seal she uses holds no further meaning for her and Hardy makes it clear that there was no intentional mischief: "So very idly and unreflectingly was this deed done. Of love as a spectacle Bathsheba had a fair knowledge; but love subjectively she knew nothing." (148). The heroine doesn't think about the consequences, and is unable to foresee Boldwood's strong reaction. She tries to rectify the situation on several occasions, despite her suitor's desperation in the matter. Accordingly we sympathize with both characters; their naivety foretells their ruin.

Bathsheba's affections may not lie with Boldwood, yet these two share similar traits and the heroine is soon confronted with her male equivalent in the form of Sergeant Troy. This third suitor, unlike the previous ones has experience in abundance as well as the arrogance to go with it. Not having previously encountered a man who knows his way with women, Bathsheba feels flattered and bewildered by his admiration: "Bathsheba really knew not what to say," (216) which is rather uncommon for the usually outspoken heroine. This dashing young soldier brings out a previously unseen side of Bathsheba. As Hardy comments,

Bathsheba loved Troy in the way that only self-reliant women love when they abandon their self-reliance. When a strong woman recklessly throws away her strength she is worse than a weak woman who has never had any strength to throw away. (243)

Having let her guard down, Bathsheba is more vulnerable, and considering Troy's past Hardy is explicitly warning that trouble is brewing. The sergeant draws out the sensitive part of Bathsheba, and this may be one of the reproaches we could make to our seemingly feminist Hardy, as it necessitates a man's presence to show the leading lady's softer side. Her weakness for Troy brings out her imperfections; she therefore becomes more approachable and in effect more human.

The heroine's vulnerability is intensified in the chapter entitled "Fanny's Revenge". The character we had come to know at the beginning is very different to the one who is married to Troy when he states, "you have lost all the pluck and sauciness you formerly had." (318). This weak Bathsheba, however, shows her true strength and sensitivity when she opens Fanny's coffin to discover Troy's dead baby. In a complete twist of fate, it is now Bathsheba who finds herself in a similar position to the one previously faced by Boldwood; her husband doesn't want her. This situation enables Hardy to make the reader feel compassion for Bathsheba. Moreover, he is also able to make a clear political statement through another

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