Understanding Thomas Hardy: Pessimism vs Realism

It’s clear that ChatGPT’s interpretation of Hardy’s “The Darkling Thrush” is based on the premise that Hardy is a Pessimist and that his works consistently reflect that philosophy.  I beg to differ with that opinion. Even though most of the people I personally referred Jude the Obscure to did find it depressing rather than inspiring, I saw it as a warning that helped me succeed where I might otherwise have failed. I used Hardy’s observations to make sure that I didn’t make the mistakes his characters made. Of course, I was also fortunate enough to live in a society that had managed to rid itself of many of the rigid social codes that dominate his characters. 

It’s hard to deny that Hardy’s most famous novels focus on characters who seem doomed to end badly, no matter how hard they struggle against their environment and society’s arbitrary rules. It is depressing to see someone you empathize with end up like his characters do.  However, I tend to see the novels as tragedies, not tragedies that focus on heroic heroes or royalty, but tragedies that focus on everyday people, people like you or me, and their downfall is no less tragic than that of a rich or famous character.

Although more critics see Hardy as a pessimist than a realist, It seems to me that Hardy is a realist, not a pessimist, and it’s not hard to find critics on the internet who agree with me that he’s a realist, if not an ameliorist. Let me cite a couple here.  

In a post entitled “The Realist Mistaken for a Pessimist” Eric (I assume that’s his name ) argues that :

The standard academic line on Hardy is that his work shows the futile struggle of individuals against an indifferent force that rules the world and plays ironical tricks on frail humanity.

Rubbish. Hardy is just a realist. As he says of a poet in one of his short stories, “he was a pessimist in so far as that character applies to a man who looks at the worst contingencies as well as the best in the human condition”.

As a naive high school student, I had no idea what the “academic line on Hardy” was, but I’m pretty sure I had never encountered novels that focused on ordinary people who led such tragic lives before, and yet, when I thought about it, I had personally known people whose lives had turned out almost as badly.    

Like most critics, Eric admits that most Hardy characters “suffer tragically” and are defeated by forces they do not control:

Coincidences often drive his plots and certainly his characters often (but not always) suffer tragically. But the protagonist in any Hardy novel is more likely to be in conflict with his own very human obsessions, or struggling with rigid and unjust social codes, than against some faceless fate ruling the universe. His characters aren’t railing against God but against followers of organized religion, not against the devil but against their own consciences.

Yes, he’s depressed at times over who will win these battles. Who isn’t?

Although Hardy’s focus on those most affected by economic turmoil and rigid, unjust social codes makes it appear that he is simply pessimistic, it’s hard to deny that he was realistically portraying the effects on members of the lower class during his age.

Perhaps the author’s view of Hardy depends on his own social standing and life experiences. One can certainly understand how Dr. Mahmoud Baroud, “an Assistant Professor of English and Comparative Literature in the English Department at The Islamic University of Gaza, Palestine,” might find Hardy’s portrayal of human misery entirely realistic.

He begins his argument by admitting that Hardy’s view of life is:


… basically tragic. He is one of those who believe that life is full of hurdles which we cannot override. His novels concentrate on human sufferings and show that there is no escape for human beings. Pessimism runs like a dark thread through his novels.


and that


All these creations of Hardy’s leave in the mind, beyond a shadow of doubt, an immense sense of life’s sad uselessness. Such textual illustrations from his novels would invite us to say that there is no doubt that Hardy’s vision is bleak, somber and pessimistic.


One can almost believe that Dr. Baroud actually agrees with ChatGPT and critics who believe Hardy is a Pessimist, but he gradually shifts the argument to a very different view: 


As one can observe in most of his novels, Hardy’s sympathy was always with the individuals from the working classes against the rigid conventions of his society and the church corruption. Most of the best and well known characters in his novels meet unpleasant ends – largely because they are unable to break out of social conventions, financial woe or other difficulties. This is clear in his choice of his ordinary heroes and heroines for his novels…

To me, the most important point here is that Hardy’s “sympathy was always with the individuals from the working classes.”  His novels work because the reader either identifies with the main character or sympathizes with them.  We empathize with them because we see the injustice of the system that victimizes them and realize that his portrayal is accurate.   

Seen in this light, it’s difficult to see Hardy as a Pessimist, and we are more likely to agree with Hardy’s own view of his works:

Hardy himself was sadly offended by what he considered as invalid charges. He sought to justify his view of life on many occasions and in various ways. In defense of himself and in a conversation with

William Archer in 1904 (quoted in A Hardy Companion by F. B. Pinion) he said ‘…I believe, indeed,that a good deal of the robustious, swaggering optimism, of recent literature is at bottom cowardly and insincere…my pessimism, if pessimism it be, does not involve the assumption that the world is going to the dogs…On the contrary, my practical philosophy is distinctly meliorist… What are my books but one long plea against man’s inhumanity against man—to women—and to the lower animals?’(Mathur, 1982, 23) Hardy attempted a justification of his dark outlook when he declared that ‘the highest flights of the pen are mostly the excursions and revelations of souls unreconciled to life. Consequently he regarded himself as a ‘meliorist’ rather than a ‘pessimist.’

When I read these novels and “The Darkling Thrush” in high school I didn’t think that Hardy was too pessimistic; I thought he was exposing societal injustices that I had never thought about — and some of them were still in force when I was in high school.  

I agree with Dr. Mahmoud Baroud when he concludes:


Hardy is not a pessimist – a misanthrope (somebody who hates humanity) like Hobbes. He is a pessimist like the classical writers who view Man simply as a puppet in the hands of powerful fate as can be seen in Greek tragedies. Simply he is gloomier than they are. Instead of causing in the reader a feeling of disgust and scorn for the shortcomings of his characters, he creates in them a feeling of deep sympathy. This is due to his profound sympathy for humanity.


Equally important, since he was describing life as it really was why don’t we also elaborate and suggest that his pessimism is mixed up with some sort of realism as well. One note which Hardy strikes repeatedly is his insistence on realism; his whole aim seems to have been to present the Truth regardless of the consequences.


If Hardy had written“A Christmas Carol,” which focused on a lot of the same problems that Dickens did, he wouldn’t have ended with a sentimental, but unrealistic, happy ending. In Hardy’s version, Tiny Tim would have died, and the father wouldn’t have been able to attend the funeral because he had to work unless he wanted to risk getting fired. Of course, his readers would have been outraged, and he might never have published another story. Of course, that seems unlikely because of how popular his early works were.

Hardy’s Novels and Poetry Have Special Meaning to Me

I’m pretty sure I’ve told parts of this story here several times in the past, but what I have to say about falling into the black hole of AI poetry analysis probably won’t make sense without knowing my background with Hardy’s poem. 

I was taking a semester-long Senior English class that was advertised as an honors class for students who had high scores on their SATs but lower scores in the writing portion of the exam.  When I went to the office and asked why I wasn’t in the regular honors English class since I’d gotten “A’s” in all my English classes, they told me that I could be in the regular honors class if I wanted, but would need better writing skills if I wanted to succeed in college. Somewhat appeased by that explanation, I begrudgingly entered Mr. Thomas’s “bonehead Honors” class.

For better or worse, it turned out to be the most influential class of my life. First, it revealed that — though I often had good insights —I didn’t have a clue how to organize my thoughts.  I don’t think I’d ever seen an outline before, and I certainly didn’t know how to use one to write my own papers. I’d never used notecards before this class. In other words, the class itself focused on writing, not literature. Except for Calculus (an everlasting disaster), it was the toughest class I ever took, and the INTP in me loved it.  

We had to write a paper outside of class, and I chose Thomas Hardy as my subject, although I had no idea who Thomas Hardy was. I read three of his novels: Return of the Native, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Jude the Obscure, and a short collection of his poems for my paper. I had never explored a writer in such depth before. More importantly, I had never read one who portrayed life so critically. 

I had read a lot in my life (we didn’t have a TV until I was in Junior High, and my parents were voracious readers). My mother bought the family an encyclopedia when I was in 4th or 5th grade, which included a collection of classic novels that had apparently been bowdlerized for young kids. After I finished those, my mother would suggest classics I should check out from the library — most of which I don’t remember, probably because they seemed to have little or nothing to do with me.  After all, I never wanted or expected to be part of English upper society, though I’ll admit to being a bit of a sucker for My Friend Flicka and Thunderhead. In other words, almost everything I had read or been exposed to up to that point offered a Romantic/Optimistic/childish view of life. The only novels I had read in high school that were nearly as pessimistic/realistic as Hardy were How Green Was My Valley and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

Perhaps Hardy resonated because I was beginning to realize that my own opportunities in life weren’t so grand as I had once been led to believe.  Though some colleges like Harvey Mudd recruited me, there was no way my parents or I could afford the tuition there, even with a scholarship. It never even occurred to me that I could take out a student loan; we weren’t those kinds of people. Even attending the University of Washington, the local college, was going to be a challenge and meant I would have to work at least part-time to afford it.

 I was fascinated by Hardy’s novels, so fascinated that I switched from a Physics Major to an English Major when I entered the University of Washington months later. Of course, I’d always been more interested in seeking Truth than following a particular career. So, perhaps this wasn’t such a momentous decision. Jude the Obscure made the biggest impression on me because it seemed most relevant to my personal life and the decisions I faced. In fact, before I read Catch-22 many years later, after serving in Vietnam, Jude was my favorite novel. 

Unfortunately,by now I have only vague memories of Hardy’s novels, even Jude, but I memorized “The Darkling Thrush:” 

I leant upon a coppice gate
      When Frost was spectre-grey,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
      The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
      Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
      The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
      The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
      Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
      The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
      Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
      In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
      Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
      Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
      His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
      And I was unaware.

and it has stayed with me for my whole life, not because it is depressing, but because it seems to offer Hope even in the face of a bleak world. In fact, for years, I would post it to this site on New Year’s Day in hopes that the next year would be a better one.

Or, at least, that was my interpretation until I compared it to McNulty’s “Varied Thrush Calling in Autumn” inChat GPT, which gave a very different interpretation to the poem, no matter how hard I tried to convince it otherwise.  

Liz Nakazawa’s Painting the Heart Open

Except for some exciting Hummingbird fights over the newly flowering Crocosmia, things have been rather dull around here. I wanted to visit Malheur and Bear River, but a nagging upper respiratory illness has kept me relatively homebound. It has pretty much limited me to watching television (yes, I probably am addicted to Son of a Critch), practicing Tai Chi and Qi Gong at the Y and Titlow, and meditating in my den. 

These activities don’t lend themselves well to blogging, so I’m beginning to feel guilty about the blank screen. So, I thought I would pick up one of the numerous poetry books littering my den and try to write a poetry entry. 

Naturally, I picked the shortest one: Painting the Heart Open by Liz Nakazawa; I originally bought it because I liked a collection of Oregon poems she edited that I had read previously. I didn’t realize just how short the book was when I bought it from Amazon — just twenty pages of poetry and fewer poems than that. I might not have purchased that short of book if I’d seen it in a bookstore. 

That would have been too bad, though, because I would have missed several poems that I identified with. Nakazawa has an interesting style, combining concrete imagery with abstract concepts to create enigmatic poems.  Despite relying on concrete images that any reader would recognize, she combines them with lines like “ variations haggling, properly enigmatic/right into bones of an emulsified conclusion.” I’ve never had to look up so many words I didn’t know in so few pages

Even a short poem as simply written as

Pray. As Earth Does 

hold others steady 

be a cradle for seed 

absorb water slowly 

help feed the hungry 

manifest layer of rock 

so young children 

delight in its pebbles 

hold others steady

crumble when needed 

sharing their sorrows 

hold others steady 

be a friend to moles and badgers 

hold others steady 

offer a lap for horse chestnut, catalpa and fir 

hold others steady 

warm with the sun 

pray:  to hold others steady 

moves from concrete imagery to a much broader concept of Nature as a unifying and healing force.  

It’s clear how the Earth cradles seed and helps feed the hungry, but exactly how does the Earth “hold others steady?”  Most of us can identify with young children throwing pebbles, but how many of us can identify with “being a friend to moles and badgers”? Despite my wife’s grumbling, I do think moles help improve the soil, and I laughed when a local pest controller knocked on the door and wanted me to pay him to help get rid of them.  On the other hand, I have only confronted a single badger once in my life, and I definitely don’t want one in my yard.  

It’s never quite clear whether we are supposed to “hold others steady” or whether the Earth is supposed to “hold others steady,” or whether we are both supposed to hold the world together. 

The Power of Chi: Meditation and Tai Chi Benefits

Although Liao devotes a lot of time talking about threats to our Chi, in the end he focuses on ways to build our Chi back up, arguing that 

Learning to strengthen and protect your Chi will help you survive the ups and downs of life and regain balance and harmony. Remember that Chi is spelled C–H–I: Center, Harmony, and Infinity.

His warning that we need to focus on personal energy instead of thinking about world affairs seems strangely appropriate right now:

Start the journey back to your true self by subduing your thinking about world affairs. Instead, pay great attention to your feeling. When you find your mind wandering outside on problems of the day, or artificial notions, stop. Instead, refocus your awareness to the sensation of your own body and the feeling of life within it. Don’t just “think” about concepts you have about your body and life energy, really “feel” the actual sensation of it, here and now. By repeating this process many times, you will finally learn to separate what is artificial and what is the real feeling of you. This will help train you not only in telling the difference between the two, but help in strengthening your mind’s ability to detach from what’s artificial and choose what is real instead.

Liao also warns that conforming to others’ expectations weakens your Chi, echoing Thoreau and Watts’ views on the importance of Individualism and Non-Conformity:

When you consistently choose to live your life and make choices based on what others will think of you, that is slavery. When those choices override your gut feelings and what is best for your health and peace of mind, that is slavery.

I don’t think I’ve ever thought of Chi in quite this way.  I’ve always thought of it like a form of energy, not my essence.  

Liao explains the importance of strengthening your Chi and ways that you can do that: 

Strengthening your Chi has two components: one is to increase its quality, meaning the intensity of your Chi feeling, and the other is to increase the quantity, meaning the size or volume of your Chi (hence also the feeling of your Chi). The pure dedication of your mind can increase the intensity of your Chi and hence your ability to feel it.

Liao seems to suggest that meditation is necessary to increase the intensity of your Chi, that combining meditation, and Tai Chi makes it easier/possible to feel Chi. Some of the meditations I’ve tried that visualize energy flowing through your body do make it seem like there is Chi, or, at least, energy flowing through your body, through your hands.  

 Liao argues that by combining Tai Chi and meditation you can increase your Chi, and, ultimately, your well-being.  

Under intense meditative Tao-gong work, Chi can be refined through “flow movement” to become very pure and strong. It can also be transformed into an even higher form of energy that can serve as the fuel for spiritual development.

 Apparently “Tao-gong work” is a phrase used by Master Liao to promote his classes and books and doesn’t seem to be  used elsewhere, which makes this claim a little suspect.  However, there does seem to be some scientific evidence that practicing Taoist forms of meditation can have a positive effect.  Chat GPT concludes:  

While traditional Taoist concepts like Qi are not fully understood in Western science, many Taoist meditation practices align with proven physiological and neurological benefits. The breath control, mindfulness, and movement elements of Taoist meditation have been scientifically validated for their positive effects on mental and physical health.

Tai Chi is usually sold to Westerners as a way to gain better balance and core strength, and that’s been true to my experience after doing Tai Chi for seventeen years.  However, once I learned the form and didn’t have to think too much about what I was doing, I found that my heart rate actually dropped below my normal level while I was just sitting around.  When I took my blood pressure after Tai Chi and before starting to lift weights, it was almost invariably lower than it was while I was sitting on the couch at home watching television.  Until my recent bout with Rheumatoid Arthritis, my HRV was higher than most fifty year olds.  

I tend to ascribe my physical health mainly to the fact that I exercise a lot, at least for someone my age, but I think my meditation has done more to improve my mental health.