Thomas Hardy: 'A Group of Noble Dames'

Had no sooner got back to Warsaw in mid-July than I started reading Thomas Hardy's 'A Group of Noble Dames', once again, mainly while travelling to and from work on trams in Warsaw, Poland.

This was the fourth antholoogy of short stories by Hardy I'd read over the past 18 months, after going through 'Wessex Tales'; 'Life's Little Ironies'; and  'A Changed Man and Other Tales'.

'A Group of Noble Dames' is an 1891 collection of 10 short stories about noble women from the 17th and 18th centuries, each one told by a different member of a country club.  In these tales from the dustiness of long gone history, Hardy focuses on themes of (sometimes a lack of) love; love rivalries; and (often unsuitable) marriage.  The tales often recount the secrets and hypocrisies that lie behind the lives, loves and marriages of (almost) forgotten, real and flawed, aristocratic women from many different parts of Hardy's Wessex.

I guess that like many readers of 'A Group of Noble Dames', 'Barbara of the House of Grebe' is the story that has left a lasting impression on me.  For me, only 'The Withered Arm' from 'Wessex Tales' gives 'Barbara of the House of Grebe' a run for its money in being the most macabre, Gothic-type, Hardy tale.

Without parental consent, Barbara marries the ultra-handsome Edmond Willowes to which her father, Sir John Grebe, becomes reconciled to the idea so long as Edmond goes to Continental Europe for a year to get properly educated.  Unfortunately, Edmond's face gets badly disfigured while helping to save people from a fire in Italy, and when he finally returns to Barbara and takes off his mask, poor Barbara cannot bear what she sees (a face lacking ears and nose), and poor Edmond departs leaving a farewell letter.

After hearing of Edmond's death, Barbara marries her long-term suitor, Lord Uplandtowers, but obtains a sculpture of her pre-disfigured, previous husband from Italy which she secretly installs in a boudoir closet, and starts holding affectionate, nightly, worship sessions in front of it. One night, Lord Uplandtowers discovers her doing this, and in response, gets a sculptor to disfigure the head of the statue like the injured Edmond.  After this, he chillingly subjects Barbara to the torture of looking at her previous husband's disfigured face every night  . . .

About the other nine tales, I found them all interesting enough, but unlike 'Barbara of the House of Grebe', none now clearly stand out in my memory.  Have also just got access to the BBC's 1973 production of 'Barbara of the House of Grebe', so I'll be able to visually relive the experience of reading it.