Quest of the Spirit: From Suffering to Acceptance

121. Fatalism versus Faith in Hardy's The Return of the Native!

             Hardy also uses the concept of change to alter the course of the lovers' lives. Although psychological rebirth is essential for growth, because of different philosophies, their transformations unfortunately worsen the dilemma. As the result of the couple's bitter separation, Clym soon regrets his hasty remarks and begins to suffer for his passionate outbursts. Hardy here illustrates the irony of their relationship by showing how their different ideologies preclude the fulfillment of their love for one another. As an idealist, Clym learns to find a sense of dignity and self-worth even in the lowest of occupations. In this sense, he is a pragmatist. For instance, the loss of sight does not prove an impediment to the nobility of his character. As he adapts to changing circumstances, he also alters ideological approach to life. On the other hand, as a romantic, Eustasia preoccupies herself with the notion of loss, that is, a matter of degree and intensity. She refuses to focus upon the idea of contentment, but rather chooses to devise a means of transcending it intellectually. The harsher her circumstances, the greater her passion grows. Thus, adversity fosters heroic responses in both characters, only in different directions. Sadly, although the couple still retains a mutual attraction for the other, their radically different reactions at critical times sever their relationship. In essence, the moment of crisis, or change, fails to produce a comparable transformation, and consequently, a higher level of tension results. Here, Hardy uses Clym's anguish and frustration to reinforce the theme of suffering; his guilt associated with the loss of his mother manifests itself in a vengeance toward Eustasia. The young man's brutal accusations against his wife return to haunt him following her departure and subsequent death. Hardy compares Clym's madness to that of Oedipus who loses his family at the cruel decree of the gods (323). In contrast, the heath remains "imperturbable, having defied the cataclysmal onsets of centuries, reduced to insignificance by its seamed and antique features the wildest turmoil of a single man" (324). The author draws this contrast to show the impervious force of Nature over the lives of men. Feeling this sense of helplessness, Yeobright realizes too late that his refusal to consider her wishes and his relentless attack upon her character contributed to her sense of desperation. The guilt associated with his conduct leaves his heart empty and forlorn. Clym fails to realize the differences in their personalities, and only after Eustasia's demise does he realize the extent of his insensitivity. Like Othello, he is left alone with only the memory of the one he loves and the guilt of his having a part in it. Just as Hamlet must live with the knowledge that his madness contributed to the loss of his beloved Ophelia, so must Yeobright acknowledge his part in causing Eustasia's tragic death. A transcendentalist, at heart, Clym draws strength from Nature; while his wife, like Emma Bovary, longs for relief from the ennui of ordinary life. Eustasia tells Wildeve that in many respects her husband is a "good man," but she cannot feel justified in giving up what she has always wanted in life, that is, "Music, poetry, passion, war, and all the beating and pulsing that are going on in the great arteries of the world." She then adds, "That was the shape of my youthful dream; but I did not get it. Yet I thought I saw the way to it in my Clym" (283). To compound the tragedy, Clym blames himself for his mother's death because had he visited her sooner, she would not have been as reluctant to visit his family, or have traveled such a great distance to unite the households (376). Neither would she have suffered the bite from the adder (304). Ironically, it is Yeobright's self-condemnation over the untimely death of his wife and mother that induce him to choose a new way of life. In essence, the hero undergoes a psychological transformation from an existence of selfishness to one of piety. Like the phoenix rising from its ashes, the subject must emerge from the remorse of his memories to be reborn, from death to life. In his passage from innocence to experience, Clym redirects the energy from the unpleasant events of his past into avenues of spiritual growth. His itinerant preaching serves as a form of catharsis or atonement for the guilt he suffers over his mother's death (404). Despite his misfortune, the hero courageously chooses to live for the good of humanity, and is "kindly received" for it. This moral transformation denotes Hardy's optimism, an acceptance springing from the depths of separation and suffering.

           Hardy uses Eustasia's character to enhance the theme of tragedy. As a heroine, she definitely possesses the qualities that make her larger than life. An archetypal femme fatal like Emma Bovary or Anna Karenina, her only crime is her desire to live passionately, without reservation. As Hardy observes, "To be loved to madness—such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial which could drive away the eating loneliness of her days. And she seemed to long for the abstraction called passionate love more than for any particular lover" (75). Sadly, those who know Eustasia best suffer the most. Mrs. Yeobright dies feeling betrayed by her (286). Wildeve dies trying to rescue her (372). Thomasin is humiliated by Wildeve's affection for her (358); and the reddleman is indignant over Wildeve's favoring her instead of his wife Thomasin, the woman Venn loves (268). Nevertheless, Eustasia's personality embodies the life-force which sustains the story. Eustasia's relationship with Clym and Wildeve determine the behavior of Thomasin, Mrs. Yeobright, and Diggory Venn. Hardy compares her to the higher female deities Artemis, Athena, and Hera who possess an innate warmth, a radiant beauty, and a "true Tartarean dignity" (73). Speaking of Eustasia, the author says, "Eustasia Vye was the raw material of a divinity. On Olympus she would have done well with a little preparation" (71). If she possesses a flaw, it would be her passion for the idea of love rather than the act itself. Such is her relationship with Damon Wildeve (77) who ultimately offers her an escape in Paris. Clym also reaches this conclusion when he "could not but perceive at moments that she loved him rather as a visitant from a gay world to which she rightly belonged than as a man with a purpose opposed to that recent past of his which so interested her" (204). Ironically, as her loneliness intensifies, so does her desire for acceptance. To her, Egdon Heath symbolizes "a cruel taskmaster" (190), a jail (98), or even Hades, itself (73). Although she herself suffers at the hand of Damon Wildeve who tempts, betrays and manipulates her, Eustasia bravely perseveres, and to a degree, transcends conventionality. She also remains true to her dreams despite the circumstances in which fate places her. She never relinquishes her spirit of adventure. Only after her separation from Clym does she consider the possibility of escaping with Wildeve on that night of her tragic death. She works diligently to love and care for Clym during his time of misfortune, seldom voicing her displeasure. Her love and inner strength inspire Wildeve's pity and courage in risking his life. As fate would have it, she fails to read Clym's letter of repentance and thus begins the journey culminating in her death (346). In the same respect, only after their separation does Clym realize the extent of his neglect and cruelty. Only through the guilt and sadness of her loss does he undergo a spiritual transformation which leads to his coming-of-age. In his heart he will always remember her courage and love, a love that he can never reclaim.

              Unlike her companions, Eustasia's greatness must not be judged by mortal standards. Hardy himself describes her as "a divinity" possessing "the passions and instincts which make a model goddess, that is, those which make not quite a model woman"(71). Certainly the gods were not subject to the morals of men, and possibly this explains Eustasia's tragic downfall. Her lust for life, spirit of adventure, courage, and dignity prove ennobling; but far greater than these is her capacity to love and inspire. This is her true gift to Clym, and Hardy's gift to the world.

                                      Works Cited for Hardy's The Return of the Native

Hardy, Thomas.  The Return of the Native. New York: New American Library, 1980.