This had to be one of the most harrowing, most stressful novels I have read in recent memory. My first time reading this was at the start of term in university -- no wonder I did not absorb nor have the patience to pursue the novel in earnest. As a character there is none purer than Tess. So pure is she that her guilt haunts her like nothing else, even after the voice of the narrator makes a point to state that they only think of her in passing and never with malice. Yet that does not frustrate me -- her inner turmoil rings blameless, she being a creature of her time and I of mine. She is steadfast -- until she isn't, but who can blame her? The edition I read all but compared Tess to Madame Bovary and Anna Karenina, which seems to me wrong-headed. The two women well-known in classic novels are, in a way, women of ill-repute, whose downfalls are brought about by their own hands. What is Tess' flaw but to be too pretty for a dairymaid? Emma and Anna are emblematic of bourgeoisie boredom, and Tess is nothing of the sort.

It was the most frustrating yet well-done book I've ever read.