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thesis on thomas hardy as pessimistic novelist
essay on thomas hardy
opionions of thomas hardy
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Explore the ways in which Hardy has tried to make You sympathetic for these two female Characters Thomas Hardy has cleverly and subtly used many different ways in writing to create an image of sympathy for the two female characters Sophy Twycott and Phyllis Grove. He uses powerful emotive Language and describes relationships and the reactions to help bring sympathy to the character. He also brings into both stories the society of the character. Hardy also tried to make you sympathise with the character by bringing in physical description, setting and plot. My piece will show you how he did this. The setting was described carefully and purposely so you would sympathise with Sophy Twycott. She lives all on her own in a semi-detached house 'in the same long straight road…stretching her eyes far up and down the vista of sooty trees, hazy air and drab house facades along which echoed the noises common to a suburban main through fare'. The way he's described it makes it sound like a typical dirty industrial town, and makes it sound so plain and boring. Its described like an endless place which she has no effect on, a place where she doesn't fit in. Which is exactly what is happening he's just said it in a different way. 'The fragment of lawn in front', I think is saying how much control she's got left in the world. When it says 'she's looking through the railings at the ever flowing traffic ', to me is saying that her home is like a prison she cant go any where, the railings symbolising bars, and all she can do is look onto the present world. Compared to the description of her old life its hell. The move from country to the drabness of the town is done to idealise the countryside. This makes you sympathetic towards Sophy as she makes one mistake in her life and everything goes wrong, you know she's going to have a very bad life. The Victorian readers' hearts would go out to Sophy at this point and feel very sorry for her. It all leads back to Hardy's idea of fate and destiny. When the market is mentioned the vegetables are described very vividly. 'Pyramids of snow white turnips', just shows the boredom of Sophy, she' starring out the window at one o'clock in the morning looking at fruit and vegetables people are preparing for the market. She describes the turnip in such an immaculate way almost as though she's got so much time on her hands she can, also they're described as pyramids that because its an exciting thing for her to see.
Another day sleeping awaywith the minutes slowly passing staring at the ceiling wondering how to escape the outside world.
From the piece of artwork “Rain at the Auvers”. I can see roofs of houses that are tucked into a valley, trees hiding the town, black birds, clouds upon the horizon, hills, vegetation, a dark stormy sky and rain.
I cracked opened the French glass doors that led out to my balcony and was immediately hit by a wave of cool air that been saturated with a powerful stench of ozone and pine. I could also hear the sounds of the trees atop Mt. Harrison groaning as they aggressively swayed back-and-forth as wave-after-wave of upcoming gales rushed down the hillsides sweeping their way through them.
doors I turn and look at the city beyond. It burns a blue not unlike a gas
Once one got nearer, the archway opened up until one could see the whole front of the house in a somehow eerie way. Around the windows grew ivy and creepers, twisting their way up to the roof in a claw like fashion. The windows themselves were sparkling clean, but the curtains were drawn in most of them, even though it was almost noon. The doors were of solid pieces of dark oak and the two windows above it seemed to give the whole house a rather formidable look.
On the bank of the water, the lifeless trees swayed heavily in the enduring winds. Clouds could be seen not far off in the north, reclaiming the sky rapidly. The mood was changing swiftly as dusk descended dashingly on the hills of the Gabilan Mountains.
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
The breeze is the world’s way of cooling down the Earth from the blazing hot summer and preparing the Earth for the winter chill. When the wind chill blows upon someone’s skin, small goosebumps outline the skin to where every microscopic hair on the body is visible. Not only does the wind chill bring goosebumps to people’s skin, but it also brings in tranquility into the lungs. During the daytime, one deep breath of the autumn air will bring tranquility to one’s soul. The morning air brings a calmness that one’s entire body becomes to connect with all the elements within the environment. However, at night the autumn air brings dewy mist that stains one’s skin with perspiration. The first arrival of mist will bring a gray blanket of fog that pierces the sky. The gleaming moon in the autumn night aligns the streets perfectly that there is still some light that pierces through the gray blanket of fog. Although the fall contrasts the appearance of air from day to night in autumn seems like nature’s own battle between lightness and darkness, the brisk autumn air possesses a tranquil earth tone that would just put one’s being at
I feel sympathy for Tray and Deborah for Tray his pride was shot and he is broken down
cold, dark and musty with a real feel of tension in the air. I want
isn't the case as she is only allowed to stay for a 'few days'. To add...
Light was the first thing that I saw. It came from the window where I always sat. The view was something spectacular. The first thing I always saw were the vibrant green leaves from the oak tree. Behind the tree, were rows of houses. None of these houses were unusually big but they all looked cosy. The room that I was sitting in wa...
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
The sunless sky covered the woods over the treetops which created a canopy over my head. The crimson and auburn foliage was a magnificent sight, as this was the season known as Fall. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The leaves appeared as though they were dying to fall out of the tree and join their companions on the forest floor. Together with pine needles and other flora the leaves formed a thick springy carpet for me to walk upon.