Though it has a pretentious title by twenty-first century standards, Thomas Hardy’s ‘A Laodicean’ is evidence aplenty that one should not judge a book simply by its cover or title. If you have the strange wish of reading a Hardy novel that spends much of its time outside Hardy’s beloved Wessex, this is the reading option for you!
Essentially a biblical reference to someone who is lukewarm in belief, the central character of Paula Power is the Laodicean of the title. Sounding more like a nineteen eighties pop recording artist than a pivotal character of a late nineteenth-century novel, Paula is an infuriating figure, who is a coquettish, dance-away lover, prone to the joys of being chased by sexually excited men. Somerset and de Stancy are the two admirers of Paula, both determined to attract and marry her. The novel focuses on their efforts and Paula’s extraordinary indifference. Added to the mix is the mysterious William Dare, who cheats and deceives his way through the novel, determined to sabotage Somerset’s wooing in favour of de Stancy, the offspring of the ancient Norman family that owned the castle now occupied by nouveau riche Paula. Once again, like in Tess of the d’Urbervilles, Hardy is preoccupied with how the old aristocracy are in some cases sinking from their elevated status, to be replaced by families like the Powers, enriched by railway building.
Where Hardy departs from convention is his treatment of modernity in this novel. Characterised by the tyrannical threshing machine in Tess and Farfrae’s mechanical farming innovations in The Mayor of Casterbridge, Hardy is often hostile to modernisation in the countryside. However, ‘A Laodicean’ provides a positive account of the telegraph, which was clearly the internet-style communication revolution of the Nineteenth Century. This modern technology provides a core role in aspects of the plot, as does the railway, which is also treated sympathetically.
Hardy’s continental tour with first wife, Emma, provided the inspiration for the travels across Western Europe that characterise the second half of the novel. The casino of Monte Carlo and the white cliffs of Etretat in Normandy are just two of the memorable venues on the itinerary as characters move around Europe, often in pursuit of each other following a sudden revelation being revealed.
Though lacking some of the sparkle of his best work, ‘A Laodicean’ is well worth a read. Where else in the Hardy universe do you have two men sitting at opposing ends of a table, pistols drawn in a church vestry? It’s also a novel that trades on the noun ‘erection’ for building and makes a reserved British wink towards possible elements of homosexual attraction. Reasons abound therefore to open this novel and see Hardy’s prose as you’ve never quite seen it before.