Works of Thomas Hardy discussion
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The Monument-Maker
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Since I was planning on posting this poem on Halloween night, I looked for a poem with a ghost. I found an article, "Disembodied Voices in Hardy's Shorter Poems," by Vern B. Lentz in Colby Quarterly which noted:"Thomas Hardy was fond of a particular kind of poem: the poem in which the words of authority are spoken by a spirit or ghost. Typically, these poems present a problem, and a spirit or ghost speaks words which offer a solution. By rough count, 46 of Hardy's more than 900 poems employ such a disembodied voice."
I hadn't really thought about how 5% of Hardy's poems involved spirits, but I'll be noticing as I read more of his works.
That is very interesting about spirits. If the question was posed to me, I would have said higher than five percent. Perhaps ten percent. The voice or image of something not earthly seems to “mist” across so many of his poems.
John wrote: "That is very interesting about spirits. If the question was posed to me, I would have said higher than five percent. Perhaps ten percent. The voice or image of something not earthly seems to “mist”..."John, I bought a copy of Hardy's Complete Poems so I'll be trying to notice as I read through it. The voice of a ghost can also be a way for Hardy to give his own opinion on a matter.
Some of Hardy's ghosts may not be speaking. The article is about the spirits who have voices.
After only two lines, I thought "Ah, another poem about his first wife Emma, written after she had died". Do you think this is one of those many tributes, Connie and John?
(Linking now.)
(Linking now.)
Yes, this poem is about Emma Hardy. Here's some information about the inspiration for this poem from the Britain Express website:https://www.britainexpress.com/counti...
As you know, Hardy met Emma when he visited St Juliot Church to draw up plans for its restoration in 1867. Emma's brother-in-law was the rector at the church, and Emma was living with him and her sister. Hardy also stayed at the Old Rectory during his time surveying the church, and met his future wife.
After Emma died, Hardy designed a memorial tablet in remembrance to Emma which was installed in the church. While Hardy was not the actual monument-maker, he did design the memorial tablet.
Thanks Connie for that information. I think about Florence Dugdale Hardy and sometimes wonder what she thought about all of these “after the fact” poems.
John wrote: "Thanks Connie for that information. I think about Florence Dugdale Hardy and sometimes wonder what she thought about all of these “after the fact” poems."Florence Dugdale spent quite a bit of time with Hardy and Emma so she knew how their relationship had deteriorated. Probably Florence's frequent presence around their home made things worse since Hardy was easily emotionally infatuated with other women.
It still must have been very frustrating for Florence to see her husband spending so much time writing poems about someone he once loved. That's a good point, John.
Connie wrote: "John wrote: "Thanks Connie for that information. I think about Florence Dugdale Hardy and sometimes wonder what she thought about all of these “after the fact” poems."Florence Dugdale spent quite..."
I remember the great literary critic Michael Schmidt writing that Florence must have been a patient person.
Speaking of Schmidt, one of the best books I have ever read is his voluminous study of poets: Lives of the Poets. Just a superb study of them, and Hardy’s chapter is wonderful.
Most of Hardy's poems about Emma show his remorse that he did not value her more. In this poem, he also is hurt that she did not understand and prize him more.
Sorry I'm a little late to this poem. Last week I was out of town taking care of my elderly father, and there was no time to log into Goodreads.
I really like this "Emma" poem. The line "Then laughed she over my shoulder", strikes me as a very good description of Hardy's emotions and thinking after Emma died. She literally was a ghost in his head.
The rhyme scheme is interesting. In every stanza there is a line that has no rhyme. It sticks out, like something that doesn't belong. Perhaps like the ghost felt about this monument. Or perhaps reflective of how Emma Hardy never quite fit in with Hardy's friends and family.
I like how Hardy plays around with structure in his poems.
I really like this "Emma" poem. The line "Then laughed she over my shoulder", strikes me as a very good description of Hardy's emotions and thinking after Emma died. She literally was a ghost in his head.
The rhyme scheme is interesting. In every stanza there is a line that has no rhyme. It sticks out, like something that doesn't belong. Perhaps like the ghost felt about this monument. Or perhaps reflective of how Emma Hardy never quite fit in with Hardy's friends and family.
I like how Hardy plays around with structure in his poems.
Thanks for noticing the rhyme scheme, Bridget. The rhymes are not the same from stanza to stanza, but his use of rhyme holds the poem together. I agree that Emma was a ghost in his head haunting him after her death. Others might call it a guilty conscience since he knew he could have been kinder to Emma. But Emma would tell Hardy that she came from a higher class which would bother him. Emma did not have the education of Hardy and his friends, but that was true of most women at that time. Who knows what goes on in other people's marriages?
Books mentioned in this topic
Lives of the Poets (other topics)Lives of the Poets (other topics)




I chiselled her monument
To my mind's content,
Took it to the church by night,
When her planet was at its height,
And set it where I had figured the place in the daytime.
Having niched it there
I stepped back, cheered, and thought its outlines fair,
And its marbles rare.
Then laughed she over my shoulder as in our Maytime:
"It spells not me!" she said:
"Tells nothing about my beauty, wit, or gay time
With all those, quick and dead,
Of high or lowlihead,
That hovered near,
Including you, who carve there your devotion;
But you felt none, my dear!"
And then she vanished. Checkless sprang my emotion
And forced a tear
At seeing I'd not been truly known by her,
And never prized! — that my memorial here,
To consecrate her sepulchre,
Was scorned, almost,
By her sweet ghost:
Yet I hoped not quite, in her very innermost!
1916 (written)
Published in "Human Shows, Far Phantasies, Songs, and Trifles" in 1925.