CINEMATIC HARDY: AN ARTIST AHEAD OF HIS TIME? by SOPHIA FLORRIE ROBERTSHAW A thesis submitted to the University of Birmingham for the degree of M.PHIL (B) LITERATURE AND MODERNITY Department of English School of English, Drama and American & Canadian Studies College of Arts and Law University of Birmingham September 2012 University of Birmingham Research Archive e-theses repository This unpublished thesis/dissertation is copyright of the author and/or third parties. The intellectual property rights of the author or third parties in respect of this work are as defined by The Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988 or as modified by any successor legislation. Any use made of information contained in this thesis/dissertation must be in accordance with that legislation and must be properly acknowledged. Further distribution or reproduction in any format is prohibited without the permission of the copyright holder. ABSTRACT This thesis engages with the idea of Thomas Hardy’s fiction being comparable to modern cinema and aims to explain this apparent anachronism. For this purpose I identify a poetics of cinema, distinct from the medium of film. In the first chapter I analyse Hardy’s writing in terms of this poetics and demonstrate that his narrative technique functions primarily in a cinematic manner. This discussion covers his consideration and employment of perception, his method of investing descriptions of setting and atmosphere with symbolic import, and his use of mimesis and diegesis in constructing a narrative. In the second chapter I set Hardy’s writing in its historical context to explore its apparent ahistoricism, examining firstly the scientific and technological developments which created a new understanding of perception in the nineteenth century, and then the ways in which Hardy’s engagement with the arts allowed him to express this modern sensibility. By this I demonstrate that Hardy is simultaneously in step with the foremost thinkers of his time and avant-garde in his incorporation of modern cultural impulses into his fiction. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to acknowledge my gratitude to my supervisor Dr James Mussell for his support and guidance in researching and writing this thesis. I would also like to thank Dr Tom Lockwood, and Professors Steve Ellis and Ian Small for their advice and encouragement in various forms at different stages of my research. Finally, but by no means least, I would like to express my gratitude to my Mother and Grandmother for their love and support throughout my academic career. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION …………………………………………………………… p. 1 CHAPTER 1: HARDY’S USE OF A CINEMATIC POETICS …………….. p. 10 The Use of Perception ……………………………………………… p. 11 The Means of Expression ………………………………………….. p. 19 The Construction of Narrative …………………………………….... p. 26 CHAPTER 2: THE CONTEXT OF HARDY’S CINEMATIC POETICS ….. p. 37 The Science of Perception ………………………………………….. p. 38 The Influence of Art ………………………………………………... p. 54 CONCLUSION ……………………………………………………………… p. 68 ABBREVIATIONS Crowd — Far From the Madding Crowd Greenwood — Under the Greenwood Tree Jude — Jude the Obscure Mayor — The Mayor of Casterbridge Return — The Return of the Native Tess — Tess of the D’Urbervilles Tower — Two on a Tower Woodlanders — The Woodlanders INTRODUCTION The phrase ‘Cinematic Hardy’ may seem problematic upon first consideration; indeed, taking it as a reference to Hardy’s fiction in relation to the film medium, its anachronistic nature cannot be denied. However, on an intuitive level, I have always found that reading his writing is comparable to a cinematic experience, with his narrative technique creating the effect of a film being played out in the imagination, and this is a response which has been repeatedly recorded in critical evaluations of his work.1 There is no possibility of direct influence of the cinema upon Hardy’s writing, the first public picture show having been screened in December 1895, the month following the publication of Jude the Obscure, his final novel, that November. Furthermore, despite this apparent historical proximity of his fiction to the development of the film as a narrative medium, it is not the silent, black and white films of the early cinema of which his style is evocative, but the medium as we know it today, with full use of colour and sound, and complex cinematography. I aim to explain this apparent anachronism by considering the style and techniques of cinema as distinct from the film medium. This poetics, which I am terming cinematic due to its common association with the film medium in modern culture, is equally identifiable in Hardy’s fiction: a method of presentation and narrative which seems more aligned with the culture of today than with the traditional fiction of the Victorian period. 1 See Joseph Warren Beach, The Technique of Thomas Hardy (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1922), pp. 134-57; David Cecil, Hardy the Novelist (London: Constable and Co, 1954; repr. 1978), pp. 56-7; David Lodge, ‘Thomas Hardy and Cinematographic Form’, NOVEL: A Forum on Fiction, 7 (1974), 246-54; Joan Grundy, Hardy and the Sister Arts (London: Macmillan, 1979); Terry Wright ‘“Hardy as a cinematic novelist”: three aspects of narrative technique’, in Thomas Hardy on Screen, ed. by T. R. Wright (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 8-19; Roger Webster, ‘From painting to cinema: visual elements in Hardy’s fiction’, in Thomas Hardy on Screen, pp. 20-36. 1 Whilst fiction and film have obvious differences in the ways in which they convey narratives, with fiction functioning through the medium of words whilst film communicates with vision and sound, there are some inherent similarities. David Lodge describes the way in which, at the most fundamental level, they both may be considered metonymic forms, functioning on a basis of contiguity and typically in a linear fashion temporally, in order to achieve verisimilitude in the presentation of experience.2 Many writers in the Modernist period such as Dorothy Richardson, James Joyce, Virginia Woolf and Christopher Isherwood engaged directly with cinema in their imaginative and non- imaginative writing as well as in wider cultural activities. The fact that this engagement was positive, with them drawing parallels between the techniques and potential of the two media similarly indicates an intrinsic similarity between them. There has been a lot of critical attention in recent years to the interrelation of modernist literature and early cinema; Laura Marcus argues, for example, that Woolf and Richardson develop ‘a literary equivalent to the cinematic aesthetic’ in their writing. 3 Whilst my study will obviously share something with this work in terms of basic principles of comparison between the two media, there is clearly not the same direct relationship between Hardy’s writing and modern cinema which can be identified between, say, Richardson’s novels and the films she was reviewing in her regular articles for the film journal Close Up. Despite the fact that there was no overlap between the writing of Hardy’s fiction and the film industry, his works were adapted as films, well within his lifetime.4 However, this opportunity for direct comparison between the rendering of Hardy’s novels in his own 2 David Lodge, The Modes of Modern Writing (London: Edward Arnold, 1977), pp. 73-124. 3 Laura Marcus, ‘Cinematic Realism: “A recreation of the world in its own image”’ in A Concise Companion to Realism, ed. by Matthew Beaumont (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), pp. 195-210 (p. 198). See Marcus, The Tenth Muse (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010); Laurel Harris, ‘Hearing Cinematic Modernism in the 1930s’, Literature & History, 21 (2012), 67-75. 4 For a discussion of Hardy’s dealings with the film industry, see Matthew Sweet, Inventing the Victorians (London: Faber and Faber, 2001), pp. 31-4. 2 writing and in the cinema of the early twentieth century emphasizes the disparity rather than the similarity between the two, with Hardy himself apparently identifying no especial cohesion. His reference, in his explanation of his decision to sell the rights of Tess of the D’Urbervilles for film production, to ‘an exhibition of successive scenes from Tess (which is, I suppose, what is meant)’,5 serves as a reminder of the limitations of early films, with the film consisting rather of filmed tableaux with title cards to explain the action, than being a continuous and self-sufficient narrative. His comment after viewing the film, that ‘[i]t was a curious production, & I was interested in it as a scientific toy; but I can say nothing as to its relation to, or rendering of, the story’, seems to emphasize the idea that the narrative technique and artistry of Hardy’s writing which seems cinematic today found, at this time, greater expression in his original writing than in its equivalent in the film medium.6 Whilst much of the limitation in this case may be attributed to the fact that the film belongs to the silent era, ironically an adaptation of Hardy’s 1872 novel Under the Greenwood Tree was the first all-talking film made in Britain7. Although this appeared in 1929, a year after Hardy’s death, and consequently we can have no gauge of what his reaction to it would have been, Paul Niemeyer describes the negative reaction it received with contemporary audiences, with critics disparaging the filmmaker’s decision to rely upon the addition of clichéd action scenes and folk songs to exploit the sound element, rather than adhering to and engaging with Hardy’s text.8 The idea of cinema as an art form which is not tied solely to the medium of film, nor limited by the timescale of the cinema itself, has been explored previously. Lodge, in his 5 The Collected Letters of Thomas Hardy, ed. by Richard Little Purdy and Michael Millgate, 7 vols (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984), IV, p. 140. 6 Collected Letters, p. 312. 7 Paul J. Niemeyer, Seeing Hardy (London: McFarland & Company, 2003), p. 254. 8 Ibid., pp. 254-5. 3 description of the similarity between realistic novel and film asserts that ‘novelists were in fact presenting action cinematically long before the invention of the moving-picture camera’.9 Leon Edel similarly identifies a likeness between the presentations of narrative, claiming that nineteenth century realists such as Balzac seem to have ‘had a prevision of cinema’ and stating: Novelists have sought almost from the first to become a camera. And not a static instrument but one possessing the movement through space and time which the motion-picture camera has achieved in our century. 10 His reference to ‘the early “cinema”, devised in fiction’11, succinctly encapsulates the idea of cinema as a set of stylistic techniques which were originally developed in fiction before being adopted by filmmakers, and arguably given greater fulfilment by the development of modern cinematic apparatus. Leslie Fiedler certainly endorses this view in his description of the novel as the original form of pop-art, with cinema considered as almost a descendent, appropriating the popular novel’s subjects and techniques. He describes the transition between the dominance of the two forms as a metamorphosis, with novels ‘being merely the embryos of the films they finally become, a kind of chrysalis yearning to be a butterfly’, and attributes this to a determinism on the part of the novelists themselves, claiming that ‘from the start, certain popular novelists apparently yearned for, dreamed the invention of, the movies’.12 Whilst this view endorses the idea I am proposing of the possibility of describing pre-cinematic fiction in terms of cinema, it views the nineteenth- century novel retrospectively as a pre-cursor to the development of the film medium, 9 Lodge, The Modes of Modern Writing, p. 87. 10 Leon Edel, ‘Novel and Camera’, in The Theory of the Novel, ed. by John Halperin (London: Oxford University Press, 1974), pp. 177-88 (p. 177). 11 Ibid., p. 182. 12 Leslie A. Fiedler, ‘The Death and Rebirth of the Novel’, in The Theory of the Novel, pp. 189-209 (p. 192). 4