Rifaz

This is a story about misunderstanding, not getting the facts straight and the dangers of presumptuousness. Here romance rings hollow and family is a source of strife rather than security. Although the plot borders on Lifetime channel fare and the dialogue can sometimes be overwrought, it’s Hardy’s descriptive powers that also make this a great read. He describes the heath, the wind, fire light dancing on people’s faces, a storm, an eclipse, all revealing the power and beauty of the English language. Not a page goes by where you aren’t awe inspired by Hardy’s command of the written word. I found myself frequently lingering on a page and rereading passages. I no longer highlight, but if I did this book would be easily filled with yellow. I can’t remember a book (maybe The Terror) where the physical environment plays such an active role in the course of events. The heath is a character in and of itself. It looms large in the way the characters live their lives. It provides comfort, motivation, and a metaphor for the spirit (or lack thereof) of the heath dwellers. Hardy isn’t known for his humor, but there were rare glimpses of wit, gratefully breaking up the heavy drama.