Tess of the D'Urbervilles

I'd only read Far from the Madding Crowd of Thomas Hardy before this. I can't remember much of that book, but I vaguely remember it as happy (and about a strong woman, which I always like); Tess of the D'Urbervilles surprised me in how depressing it was (although it, too, has a strong woman).

Tess is seduced/raped (it doesn't really matter--she was a very young girl who was taken advantage of). When an honorable(-ish) man falls in love with her later, she confesses this to him (after he confesses a short affair of his own). He leaves her and can't forgive her. Of course, this double standard made me furious and rankled all of my feminist feathers (this is a combination of raising my hackles and ruffling my feathers).

It reminded me a bit of Romeo and Juliet--Tess wants to confess to her husband-to-be a thousand times before she marries him, but for various reasons, she waits. Ill omens abound. Everything bad that happens (and loads of things do) is foreshadowed dozens of times.

Plus, the book is sort of overly romantic--Tess is found asleep on one of the stones at Stonehenge when she is finally captured--a sacrifice on the altar of male self-conceived superiority?

Hardy is repeatedly ironic--calling Tess's death for murdering Alec justice, when he's subtitled the book something about "a pure woman."

I'm not sure if it's a tragedy, exactly--I think it's more of a critique of a society that can't recognize a good woman when it sees one, and a critique of one bad man who Tess unfortunately encounters.

One of my favorite parts (from a conversation between Tess and Angel):

T: "Londoners will drink it [the milk they are bringing to town] at their breakfasts tomorrow, won't they?" she asked. "Strange people that we have never seen."

A: "Yes--I suppose they will. Though not as we send it. When its strength has been lowered, so that it may not get up into their heads."

T: "Noble men and noble women, ambassadors and centurions, ladies and tradeswomen, and babies who have never seen a cow."

A: "Well, yes; perhaps; particularly centurions."

T: "Who don't know anything of us, and where it comes from; or think how we two drove miles across the moor tonight in the rain that it might reach 'em in time?"

(Of course I love the agrarian sentiment, but I especially love Angel's "particularly centurions.")