The heath revisited
Adrian Samuel
Icould never 'get' Eliot's The Four Quartets. The work seemed to be neither poetry nor philosophy; it was rather stranded uncomfortably between the two, for it had none of poetry's rich emotional language nor philosophy's systematic rigour. But then I heard an audiobook of Ted Hughes reading the poem. and I was won over. Hughes' rich Yorkshire voice disclosed the emotion intrinsic to the poem's abstract language, and his careful attention to its concepts revealed the writing's undeniable rigour. Thanks to Hughes, the Quartets is now my favourite poem.
Ever since, I have had a great fondness for audiobooks. A good reading is key to appreciating a work. And although novels do not require poetry's precision in intonation and timing, these are still necessary for complete appreciation.
As a great lover of Hardy then, it was with a certain trepidation that I peeled off the clingfilm on Cover to Cover's The Return of the Native. These 12 cassettes might breathe Hardy's searingly insightful spirit, in which all sentimental hopes wither and perish, leaving the reality of the situation painfully and yet beautifully present. Or here was an interminable betrayal of Hardy, masking the novel's integrity behind emotional histrionics welded together by matters of fact.
The odds were good, though. Cover to Cover have a catalogue of well-reviewed, unabridged classics on audiobook. And for the Native, they had secured Alan Rickman to read it. who has acted in a number of serious dramas as well as major films, including the latest blockbuster Harty Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.
I slipped the tape in then, with some confidence, and after a few seconds, Rickman's bass voice sounded the title and chapter number. Then Hardy's beautiful, opening description of the heath — an extraordinary piece of writing, in which the whole narrative is compressed in Hardy's dark reflections on the landscape — rang out in Rickman's bell-like tones. But at first I found his voice to be slightly contrived; that ringing ground bass that unifies Rickman's reading is appropriately rich and dark, but seemed to be somewhat forced. I looked for a more simple and sensitive reading of the heath's sublimity in contrast to Rickman's almost oracular incantation. But I soon got used to his fullon style, and when the writing turned to the particular characters in the novel, I found Rickman's reading spot on. Eustacia Vye's flame-like romanticism, Damon Wildeve's brooding haughtiness, Thomasin Yeobright's gentle trustingness, Diggory Venn's straightforward sincerity and Clym Yeobright's fragile idealism — all of these spoke through Rickman. Furthermore, he deals effortlessly with those tricky bits when Hardy describes how the character says his or her lines — such elaborations never jarred, but simply complemented Rickman's compelling portrayals.
Rickman held me enthralled for the reading's 15 hours and 45 minutes, as he drew me up to the book's majestic climax. At the end of it, I was both satisfied and yet wanting to hear sections again — to experience the beauty of the work free from the development of the narrative. And as I did just this, even Rickman's reading of the first chapter's description of the heath seemed transformed — completely acceptable now that it was bathed in the warm glow of the whole. I cannot recommend these cassettes enough. The Native will forever now speak to me through Rickman.
The Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy, read by Alan Rickman, Cover to Cover '38.99, 12 cassettes, ISBN 1855494078.
Previous page
