finished_summaries/novelguide/Tess of the d'Urbervilles/section_2_part_4.txt
Tess of the d'Urbervilles.chapter xv
chapter xv
{"name": "Chapter XV", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210213065711/https://www.novelguide.com/tess-of-the-durbervilles/summaries/phase2-chapter12-15", "summary": "Tess attempts to put her \"un-doing at Trantridge\" behind her and comes to realize that she must leave Marlott if she is ever to find happiness. In springtime, she accepts a job as a milkmaid at Talbothays Dairy. With this new chance in life \"she would be the dairy maid Tess, and nothing more\".", "analysis": "In the first eleven chapters, \"Phase I, The Maiden,\" Hardy structures a plotline that will ultimately lead to Tess's demise. The term maiden in the traditional sense simply means virgin. After a female has had sexual relations, she is referred to as a woman. When Tess sets off for Trantridge she is an innocent child. Indeed, she says as much to her mother after she returns home in shame at the end of chapter eleven. In \"Phase Two, Maiden No more,\" the plot unfolds in the birth of the aptly named Sorrow. Although she is a different person entirely from the young maiden, at the end of this section the woman Tess is given another chance at life. There are no more dreams of castles and dashing men; Tess is more grounded, as it were, and accepts her lot as a simple milkmaid. From the beginning it is clear that Tess's chances of success are slim. Life has dealt her a rough hand: a drunken father, a simpleton mother who doesn't even tell her teenage daughter about the facts of life before letting her go off alone with a man: \"why didn't you tell me there was danger in men-folk. Why didn't you warn me. Nor can she rely on her neighbors or the church. Hardy especially takes the Church to task. Tess is marginalized by the congregation and sits in the back of the church next to the bier, a platform upon which a coffin stands, which Hardy utilizes as a foreshadowing device to associate Tess with death. Shamed and ignored, Tess is forced to leave the church, and while the parson is kind enough to assure tell her of son's salvation, he will only allow the young mother to bury her child in the dark of night. In this regard, Hardy demonstrates a remarkable ability to evoke pathos and forces the reader to become even more emotionally engaged with Tess, who lives a life of mental torture. Despite her problems, Tess manages to bear the heavy load and falls back into life by taking a job in another locale. In other words, despite being beaten and knocked down, Tess has the tenacity and the wherewithal to get back up and fight. And, although she could have benefited monetarily by accepting Alec's offer she retains her honor. Alec d'Urberville, on the other hand, is a sham, bereft of honor, a phony without a real name. When compared to this rake, Tess becomes even more admirable. It would seem then that such a strong-spirited character should achieve the heights of success. However, Hardy, who has oftentimes been criticized for his deeply pessimistic attitude concerning the individual, will stick by his theory about fate by forcing his character to endure increasingly difficult hardships. Close attention should also be paid to Hardy's utilization of setting. He places his sad heroine in some of the loveliest settings ever created. Indeed, the novel evokes the fine bucolic, rustic settings popular in the pastoral paintings of the era. However, there is one item in the setting that seems out of order: the scarlet colored thrashing machine which helps speed up the work. In this era England was changing into an ever more industrial \"modernistic\" nation, as also witnessed by Hardy's reference to railroad tracks dividing the land. As the Industrial Revolution spread, villagers were forced to leave the land for the factories of London and other cities. Attention should also be paid to Hardy's use of the seasons. The novel begins in springtime, proceeds through summer to September and the Chase incident, Tess's return home in October, the harvest the following year, then springtime yet again and Tess's new optimism"}


"By experience," says Roger Ascham, "we find out a short way by
a long wandering."  Not seldom that long wandering unfits us for
further travel, and of what use is our experience to us then?  Tess
Durbeyfield's experience was of this incapacitating kind.  At last
she had learned what to do; but who would now accept her doing?

If before going to the d'Urbervilles' she had vigorously moved under
the guidance of sundry gnomic texts and phrases known to her and to
the world in general, no doubt she would never have been imposed on.
But it had not been in Tess's power--nor is it in anybody's power--to
feel the whole truth of golden opinions while it is possible to
profit by them.  She--and how many more--might have ironically said
to God with Saint Augustine: "Thou hast counselled a better course
than Thou hast permitted."

She remained at her father's house during the winter months, plucking
fowls, or cramming turkeys and geese, or making clothes for her
sisters and brothers out of some finery which d'Urberville had given
her, and she had put by with contempt.  Apply to him she would not.
But she would often clasp her hands behind her head and muse when she
was supposed to be working hard.

She philosophically noted dates as they came past in the revolution
of the year; the disastrous night of her undoing at Trantridge with
its dark background of The Chase; also the dates of the baby's birth
and death; also her own birthday; and every other day individualized
by incidents in which she had taken some share.  She suddenly thought
one afternoon, when looking in the glass at her fairness, that there
was yet another date, of greater importance to her than those; that
of her own death, when all these charms would have disappeared; a day
which lay sly and unseen among all the other days of the year, giving
no sign or sound when she annually passed over it; but not the less
surely there.  When was it?  Why did she not feel the chill of each
yearly encounter with such a cold relation?  She had Jeremy Taylor's
thought that some time in the future those who had known her would
say: "It is the ----th, the day that poor Tess Durbeyfield died"; and
there would be nothing singular to their minds in the statement.  Of
that day, doomed to be her terminus in time through all the ages, she
did not know the place in month, week, season or year.

Almost at a leap Tess thus changed from simple girl to complex woman.
Symbols of reflectiveness passed into her face, and a note of tragedy
at times into her voice.  Her eyes grew larger and more eloquent.
She became what would have been called a fine creature; her aspect
was fair and arresting; her soul that of a woman whom the turbulent
experiences of the last year or two had quite failed to demoralize.
But for the world's opinion those experiences would have been simply
a liberal education.

She had held so aloof of late that her trouble, never generally
known, was nearly forgotten in Marlott.  But it became evident to her
that she could never be really comfortable again in a place which
had seen the collapse of her family's attempt to "claim kin"--and,
through her, even closer union--with the rich d'Urbervilles.  At
least she could not be comfortable there till long years should have
obliterated her keen consciousness of it.  Yet even now Tess felt the
pulse of hopeful life still warm within her; she might be happy in
some nook which had no memories.  To escape the past and all that
appertained thereto was to annihilate it, and to do that she would
have to get away.

Was once lost always lost really true of chastity? she would ask
herself.  She might prove it false if she could veil bygones.  The
recuperative power which pervaded organic nature was surely not
denied to maidenhood alone.

She waited a long time without finding opportunity for a new
departure.  A particularly fine spring came round, and the stir of
germination was almost audible in the buds; it moved her, as it moved
the wild animals, and made her passionate to go.  At last, one day in
early May, a letter reached her from a former friend of her mother's,
to whom she had addressed inquiries long before--a person whom she
had never seen--that a skilful milkmaid was required at a dairy-house
many miles to the southward, and that the dairyman would be glad to
have her for the summer months.

It was not quite so far off as could have been wished; but it was
probably far enough, her radius of movement and repute having been
so small.  To persons of limited spheres, miles are as geographical
degrees, parishes as counties, counties as provinces and kingdoms.

On one point she was resolved: there should be no more d'Urberville
air-castles in the dreams and deeds of her new life.  She would be
the dairymaid Tess, and nothing more.  Her mother knew Tess's feeling
on this point so well, though no words had passed between them on the
subject, that she never alluded to the knightly ancestry now.

Yet such is human inconsistency that one of the interests of the
new place to her was the accidental virtues of its lying near her
forefathers' country (for they were not Blakemore men, though her
mother was Blakemore to the bone).  The dairy called Talbothays,
for which she was bound, stood not remotely from some of the former
estates of the d'Urbervilles, near the great family vaults of her
granddames and their powerful husbands.  She would be able to look at
them, and think not only that d'Urberville, like Babylon, had fallen,
but that the individual innocence of a humble descendant could lapse
as silently.  All the while she wondered if any strange good thing
might come of her being in her ancestral land; and some spirit within
her rose  automatically as the sap in the twigs.  It was unexpected
youth, surging up anew after its temporary check, and bringing with
it hope, and the invincible instinct towards self-delight.


END OF PHASE THE SECOND





Phase the Third: The Rally



Chapter XV
Tess attempts to put her "un-doing at Trantridge" behind her and comes to realize that she must leave Marlott if she is ever to find happiness. In springtime, she accepts a job as a milkmaid at Talbothays Dairy. With this new chance in life "she would be the dairy maid Tess, and nothing more".
In the first eleven chapters, "Phase I, The Maiden," Hardy structures a plotline that will ultimately lead to Tess's demise. The term maiden in the traditional sense simply means virgin. After a female has had sexual relations, she is referred to as a woman. When Tess sets off for Trantridge she is an innocent child. Indeed, she says as much to her mother after she returns home in shame at the end of chapter eleven. In "Phase Two, Maiden No more," the plot unfolds in the birth of the aptly named Sorrow. Although she is a different person entirely from the young maiden, at the end of this section the woman Tess is given another chance at life. There are no more dreams of castles and dashing men; Tess is more grounded, as it were, and accepts her lot as a simple milkmaid. From the beginning it is clear that Tess's chances of success are slim. Life has dealt her a rough hand: a drunken father, a simpleton mother who doesn't even tell her teenage daughter about the facts of life before letting her go off alone with a man: "why didn't you tell me there was danger in men-folk. Why didn't you warn me. Nor can she rely on her neighbors or the church. Hardy especially takes the Church to task. Tess is marginalized by the congregation and sits in the back of the church next to the bier, a platform upon which a coffin stands, which Hardy utilizes as a foreshadowing device to associate Tess with death. Shamed and ignored, Tess is forced to leave the church, and while the parson is kind enough to assure tell her of son's salvation, he will only allow the young mother to bury her child in the dark of night. In this regard, Hardy demonstrates a remarkable ability to evoke pathos and forces the reader to become even more emotionally engaged with Tess, who lives a life of mental torture. Despite her problems, Tess manages to bear the heavy load and falls back into life by taking a job in another locale. In other words, despite being beaten and knocked down, Tess has the tenacity and the wherewithal to get back up and fight. And, although she could have benefited monetarily by accepting Alec's offer she retains her honor. Alec d'Urberville, on the other hand, is a sham, bereft of honor, a phony without a real name. When compared to this rake, Tess becomes even more admirable. It would seem then that such a strong-spirited character should achieve the heights of success. However, Hardy, who has oftentimes been criticized for his deeply pessimistic attitude concerning the individual, will stick by his theory about fate by forcing his character to endure increasingly difficult hardships. Close attention should also be paid to Hardy's utilization of setting. He places his sad heroine in some of the loveliest settings ever created. Indeed, the novel evokes the fine bucolic, rustic settings popular in the pastoral paintings of the era. However, there is one item in the setting that seems out of order: the scarlet colored thrashing machine which helps speed up the work. In this era England was changing into an ever more industrial "modernistic" nation, as also witnessed by Hardy's reference to railroad tracks dividing the land. As the Industrial Revolution spread, villagers were forced to leave the land for the factories of London and other cities. Attention should also be paid to Hardy's use of the seasons. The novel begins in springtime, proceeds through summer to September and the Chase incident, Tess's return home in October, the harvest the following year, then springtime yet again and Tess's new optimism