In presence of this scene after the other
there was a natural instinct to abjure man as the blot on an otherwise
kindly universe. . . .
(See Important Quotations Explained)
Summary: Chapter I
In the first half of the nineteenth century, a young hay-trusser
named Michael Henchard, his wife, Susan, and their baby daughter, Elizabeth-Jane,
silently walk along a road in the English countryside toward a large
village called Weydon-Priors. They meet a turnip-hoer, and Henchard
asks if there is work or shelter to be found in the town. The pessimistic
laborer tells the young man that there is neither. The family eventually
comes upon a fair and stops for food. They enter a furmity tent,
where a woman sells a kind of gruel made from corn, flour, milk,
raisins, currants and other ingredients. After watching the woman
spike several bowls of the porridge with rum, Henchard slyly sends
up his bowl to be spiked as well. The woman accommodates him again
and again, and soon Henchard is drunk. As he continues to drink,
he bemoans his lot as a married man. If only he were “a free man,”
he tells the group gathered in the furmity tent, he would “be worth
a thousand pound.” When the sound of an auctioneer selling horses
interrupts Henchard’s musings, he jokes that he would be willing
to sell his wife if someone wanted to buy her. Susan begs him to
stop his teasing, declaring that “this is getting serious. O!—too
serious!” Henchard persists nevertheless. He begins to bark out
prices like an auctioneer, upping the cost of his wife and child
when no one takes his offer. When the price reaches five guineas,
a sailor appears and agrees to the trade. Distraught, but glad to
leave her husband, Susan go off with Elizabeth-Jane and the sailor.
Henchard collapses for the night in the furmity tent.
Summary: Chapter II
Henchard wakes the next morning, wondering if the events
of the previous night have been a dream. When he finds the sailor’s
money in his pocket, however, he realizes that he has, in fact,
sold his wife and child. He deliberates over his situation for some
time and decides that he must “get out of this as soon as [he] can.”
He exits the tent and makes his way unnoticed from the Weydon fairgrounds.
After a mile or so of walking, he stops and wonders if he told his
name to anyone at the fair. He is surprised that Susan agreed to
go with the sailor and curses her for bringing him “into this disgrace.”
Still, he resolves to find Susan and Elizabeth-Jane and bear the
shame, which he reasons is “of his own making.”
Henchard continues on his way, and, three or four miles
later, he comes upon a village and enters a church there. He falls
to his knees on the altar, places a hand on the Bible, and pledges
not to drink alcohol for twenty-one years, the same number of years
that he has been alive. He continues the search for Susan and Elizabeth-Jane
for several months and eventually arrives at a seaport where a family
fitting the description of the sailor, Susan, and Elizabeth-Jane
has recently departed. He decides to abandon his search and makes
his way to the town of Casterbridge.
Analysis: Chapters I–II
Many critics believe that Michael Henchard, the “Man of
Character” to whom the subtitle of The Mayor of Casterbridge refers,
is one of Thomas Hardy’s greatest creations. Henchard is constructed with
a great deal of ethical and psychological complexity, and the first
two chapters show some of the contradictions of his character. As
a young man, Henchard is volatile, headstrong, and passionate. Even
before Henchard works himself into a fury in the furmity tent, Susan’s
meek behavior as she walks along beside him (“she kept as close
to his side as was possible without actual contact”) implies his volatile
and potentially violent nature. The events that take place in the
furmity tent at the fair demonstrate a cycle into which Henchard falls
frequently throughout the novel. After finding himself in a shameful
situation—this time, having sold his wife and child—he takes full
responsibility for his mistakes and sets out to correct them. In
fact, his desire to make amends is overpowering. He spends several
months searching for his wife and child, proving that his remorse
is not halfhearted. This audacious spirit is a hallmark of Henchard’s
character, as he switches quickly from ungrateful misogyny to sincere
penitence. Ultimately, though, critics have remained interested
in Henchard because his success in atoning for his transgressions
is ambiguous.
Although Henchard’s search for his wife seems to be an
example of honest contrition, his true motivation is more likely
concern over his personal honor. When Henchard wakes, his remorse
stems more from a fear of being disdained than from any sense of
moral irresponsibility. His interest in his good name plays a significant
role in his sacrifice of personal satisfaction when he swears off
alcohol and determines to find his wife. Before he begins to scour
the English countryside for his wife and child, he reflects that
it is not his own but rather his wife’s “idiotic simplicity” that
has brought disgrace on him. As he stands outside the fairgrounds
at Weydon-Priors, anxiously wondering whether he revealed his name
to anybody in the furmity tent, Henchard displays an obsession with
public opinion concerning his character that greatly shapes his
actions and personality. Critic Irving Howe refers to this trait
as Henchard’s “compulsive and self-lacerating pride.” Henchard’s
initial irresponsibility suggests that the novel’s subtitle may
not be an accurate description of him. In a way, then, the subtitle
foreshadows Henchard’s transition to a man of character.
Though Hardy resented being labeled a pessimist, the The
Mayor of Casterbridge is at times bleakly realistic. Hardy
described himself as a meliorist—one who believes
that the universe tends toward improvement and that human beings
can enjoy this progress as long as they recognize their proper place
in the natural order of things—but the world that the novel describes
seems pessimistic and difficult. Hardy uses Susan Henchard, who
has “the hard, half--apathetic expression of one who deems anything
possible at the hands of Time and Chance except, perhaps, fair play,”
to demonstrate the importance of realistically understanding the
natural order of things. We get the sense that the natural world,
embodied by “Time and Chance,” has little interest in human life
or misery. Hardy substantiates this idea by inserting an image of
several horses lovingly rubbing their necks together after the ridiculous
scene in the furmity tent. Juxtaposing compassion and heartlessness,
Hardy shows us that love and violence are competing aspects of both human
behavior and the natural world.
