Macmillan published a whole series of Hardy paperbacks around 1975. Stylised illustration had given way to making use of full-colour photography (no-one bothers to say full-colour now of course, because it’s cheap and easy, but it wasn’t back then – it was still a bit special). Bleed-off edges keep everything uncluttered and simple, with one of those fonts that managed to look both ancient and modern at the same time. Key characters were posed in various outdoor settings, with lots of natural light. (Click to enlarge.)
I think ‘being outdoors’ was a feature of this sort of image – I keep thinking of Jarvis Cocker’s lyric about ‘lemonade light’, probably because he draws heavily on the 70s, but also because it suggests lens flare, and those washed out, coloured circles of light. Of which there aren’t any here, but it’s the kind of thing that characterises the era for me.
Again these are treading a fine line – a little too much in one direction and it could be Hardy as pulp romance. There are a few fine images here though – I think Return of the Native is great with its perfect perspective capture of Egdon Heath, as is The Trumpet-Major with the Osmington Horse in the background. Both The Mayor of Casterbridge, with its grim respectability, and Far from the Madding Crowd, with clever use of a fan to suggest Bathsheba’s flighty aspirations, are just as good.
Then things start to fall apart. Tess is just a bit dull; Under the Greenwood Tree has a bright summer haze, but it’s the start of taking the titles all a bit literally instead of imaginatively… and then there’s a raid on the BBC props department. Two on a Tower? Just that. The Hand of Ethelberta? (Monty-Python-esque as a title at the best of times, but go on, give me your hand woman!)… and then it’s just random thespians adrift in the park.