Why Bathsheba, Why?????????????

In Zola's The Experimental Novel, Zola goes on for 54 pages to describe the many parameters and benefits of the rise of the scientific novel or writing. In his final paragraph at the bottom of page 54, he concludes:

"In short, everything is summed up in this great fact: the experimental method in letters, as in the sciences, is the way to explain the natural phenomena, both individual and social, of which metaphysics, until now, has given only irrational and supernatural explanations."

Zola is saying writers should write only of the facts and truth as they are unfurled, then writers will then be producing work in a responsible manner.

Hardy, in his Far from the Maddening Crowd novel partially adheres to some of Zola's position, in that the setting for the book is set in the fictional town of Wessex, but located in real and specific region of England. The characters in the novel are appropriate to the setting: farm land, farmers, land owners, farm laborers, local citizens of the farming community. There is lengthy description and discourse about nature, and man's role in trying to make a living from working within the natural environment. All the elements for an experiment are in place: man vs nature or man working within nature.

From Chapter 2:

"Norcombe Hill -- not far from lonely Toller-Down -- was one of the spots which suggest to a passer-by that he is in the presence of a shape approaching the indestructible as nearly as any to be found on earth. It was a featureless convexity of chalk and soil -- an ordinary specimen of those smoothly-outlined protuberances of the globe which may remain undisturbed on some great day of confusion, when far grander heights and dizzy granite precipices topple down."

"The hill was covered on its northern side by an ancient and decaying plantation of beeches, whose upper verge formed a line over the crest, fringing its arched curve against the sky, like a mane. To-night these trees sheltered the southern slope from the keenest blasts, which smote the wood and floundered through it with a sound as of grumbling, or gushed over its crowning boughs in a weakened moan. The dry leaves in the ditch simmered and boiled in the same breezes, a tongue of air occasionally ferreting out a few, and sending them spinning across the grass. A group or two of the latest in date amongst the dead multitude had remained till this very mid-winter time on the twigs which bore them and in falling rattled against the trunks with smart taps."

This is an excellent example of scribe writing about nature at its starkest and most true.

Where Hardy strays from Zola's absolutes that all written within the novel must be true and truthful, is when the narrator gets into the heads of the characters...there we know this is utter fiction it is not a transcript of events and a complete shift from scribing.

One of the pivotal moments of the novel which showcases a dramatic shift from scientific scribe to fiction novelist takes place when main character Bathsheba, throws all caution to the wind and sends a mortal invite to not-yet-suitor and neighboring farmer, Boldwood;

From Chapter 13:
""Dear me -- I had nearly forgotten the valentine I bought yesterday," she exclaimed at length.

"Valentine! who for, miss?" said Liddy. `Farmer Boldwood?"

It was the single name among all possible wrong ones that just at this moment seemed to Bathsheba more pertinent than the right.

"Well, no. It is only for little Teddy Coggan. have promised him something, and this will be a pretty surprise for him. Liddy, you may as well bring me my desk and I'll direct it at once."

Bathsheba took from her desk a gorgeously illuminated and embossed design in post-octavo, which had been bought on the previous market-day at the chief stationer's in Casterbridge. In the centre was a small oval enclosure; this was left blank, that the sender might insert tender words more appropriate to the special occasion than any generalities by a printer could possibly be.

"Here's a place for writing," said Bathsheba. `What shall I put?"

"Something of this sort, I should think," returned Liddy promptly: --

"The rose is red,
The violet blue,
Carnation's sweet,
And so are you."

"Yes, that shall be it. It just suits itself to a chubby-faced child like him," said Bathsheba. She inserted the words in a small though legible handwriting; enclosed the sheet in an envelope, and dipped her pen for the direction.

"What fun it would be to send it to the stupid old Boldwood, and how he would wonder!" said the irrepressible Liddy, lifting her eyebrows, and indulging in an awful mirth on the verge of fear as she thought of the moral and social magnitude of the man contemplated.

Bathsheba paused to regard the idea at full length. Boldwood's had begun to be a troublesome image -- a species of Daniel in her kingdom who persisted in kneeling eastwardwhen reason and common sense said that he might just as well follow suit with the rest, and afford her the official glance of admiration which cost nothing at all. She was far from being seriously concerned about his nonconformity. Still, it was faintly depressing that the most dignified and valuable man in the parish should withhold his eyes, and that a girl like Liddy should talk about it. So Liddy's idea was at first rather harassing than piquant.

"No, I won't do that. He wouldn't see any humour in it."

"He'd worry to death," said the persistent Liddy.

"Really, I don't care particularly to send it to Teddy," remarked her mistress. "He's rather a naughty child sometimes."

"Yes -- that he is."

"Let's toss as men do," said Bathsheba, idly. `Now then, head, Boldwood; tail, Teddy. No, we won't toss money on a Sunday, that would be tempting the devil indeed."

"Toss this hymn-book; there can't be no sinfulness in that, miss."

"Very well. Open, Boldwood -- shut, Teddy. No; it's more likely to fall open. Open, Teddy -- shut, Boldwood."

The book went fluttering in the air and came down shut. Bathsheba, a small yawn upon her mouth, took the pen, and with off-hand serenity directed the missive to Boldwood.

"Now light a candle, Liddy. Which seal shall we use? Here's a unicorn's head -- there's nothing in that. What's this? -- two doves -- no. It ought to be something extraordinary, ought it not, Lidd? Here's one with a motto -- I remember it is some funny one, but I can't read it. We'll try this, and if it doesn't do we'll have another."

A large red seal was duly affixed. Bathsheba looked closely at the hot wax to discover the words.

"Capital!" she exclaimed, throwing down the letter frolicsomely. "Twould upset the solemnity of a parson and clerk too."

Liddy looked at the words of the seal, and read --

"MARRY ME."

In the bolded section above, Hardy strays completely.