This was not the case with The Woodlanders. Sometimes, when it takes me that long to read a book, I lose patience with the plot, and my enjoyment suffers no matter how great the book is. Though The Woodlanders is a relatively slim volume compared to some of his other works, and though I had the entire week off work thanks to the half-term, it took me an entire week to read it (compare this to the three days over which I read Tess of the d’Urbervilles). But Hardy is one of those authors whose entire oeuvre I intend to consume, book by book. I bought it (and a few other books) more so I could say I bought some books from a used bookstore in Scotland than for any other reason. I found this well-preserved Penguin Classics paperback in a used book shop in Edinburgh for £2. My mad love affair with the work of Thomas Hardy deepens and continues with The Woodlanders, the latest of his novels to grace my shelves.
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