Demelza (Angharad Rees) climbing up on Ross’s (Robin Ellis’s horse), (1975 Poldark)
Dear friends, readers, and class,
This is a continuation of the lecture I wrote as a blog, Ross Poldark, the first phase, which takes into account my first blog on the book, Ross Poldark, Revenant, and on the 1970s mini-series, An 18th century Cornish Che Guevara figure. I’ve added a few thoughts on the first three episodes of Debbie Horsfield (script-writer and “creator”), Ed Bazalgette (director) and Eliza Meller (producer) of the 2015 Poldark which have not quite covered this first of the 12 novels. The stills are mostly from the 1970s mini-series as all I have for the recent one are a few promotional stills, which typically distort what are the characteristic images in any film.
Last time we emphasized the salient characteristics of Ross, which included the above categories, a sense of his rootedness in costume drama of the 1940s (Stewart Grainger) as well as his historical conditions: he is not the heir to the Poldark estate, Francis Poldark, the son of the oldest son, Charles, is. He thus comes home to a small inheritance of a ruined mine, home, neglected property, the young woman he had loved and thought himself pledged to engaged to that heir. He had been assumed dead, out of the way. To this I’d add he is an ordinary man, somber, serious, whose troubles are those that anyone of the 1940s and again 1970s might identify with today: he wants to integrate himself into his community, make a respectable living, is a responsible man with a depth of intelligence. His desire to do some good is what particularly dates the norms to the 1940s after WW2 and again before the Thatcher era.
Ross Poldark is a book speaking to the later 1940s: Graham is looking for a usable past he could find restoration in; carving out value system for the mid-20th century.
Ross Poldark and Demelza may be seen as coming of age novels: our hero returns home from the wars, which he escaped his youthful rebellions to, and now he tries to make himself a life, to marry where he will be comfortable, a woman who provides a household (his choice to marry and Demelza too partly fits in with the first part of Amanda Vickery’s At Home with the Georgians where she depicts the male of the 18th century eager to marry a genuine home-maker, to begi his career as a respectable male). I wrote a separate blog on mining (& smuggling) in Cornwall with particular reference to Ross’s thwarted heroic efforts. In the first she grows up: she comes age 11-14 into the first minimally decent stable surroundings and people who treat her in a civilized manner since her mother’s death. In the second she too comes of age, partly by finding where she differs from Ross, who by the end of the first novel has become an unquestioned parent-husband-master, someone who opinion of her is all encompassing, who is her. She is to learn he has feet of clay. Jud and Prudie are in effect her surrogate parents.
Where Jim Carter (in the background) has helped Ross fend off Demelza’s father and she protests against giving her meagre salary away
We omitted talk of Jim Carter, with Jinny, important presences and characters in Ross Poldark and Demelza. On some deep level Ross identifies with him, feels for him (as Ross does not quite for Mark Daniels). Jim is of the wretched of the earth, has been given little chance to develop his gifts, and has not had the individual esteem to refuse to return to the mine when he, like his father, develops lung sickness; still he does not make enough money as a tributer and poaches to put food on the table his manliness demands. This is not to blame him, but we are to see that he is not a flawless character. Jinny is not really happy with him; he will not listen to her greater prudence. He knows how dangerous poaching is (no matter how unjust the laws); she becomes subject to rape and even death when he steals out. Ross’s anger at himself for not saving Jim but persistent impulse to not behave in the amoral hierarchical ways of he gentry leads to his decision to marry Demelza. He will do the right thing. The community think he is sexually using her carelessly as any aristocratic male would; he proves them wrong. Central to the book is his learning experience at the trial, Book 2, Chapter 4.
Jinny and Jim at their wedding listening to her father
Also the rivalry with Francis. Quite apart from Elizabeth. My research into the period of the Renaissance through early 19th century shows such internecine quarreling and betrayals (Ross almost drowns Francis in their first encouner in the mine when Francis tries to open himself to Ross) occurred regularly between a male heir and especially a cousin, the son of the second son: I found it in Vittoria Colonna’s extended family, and in Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea’s brother, who murdered his male cousin Hazlewood in Northampton, and could not recover a life afterwards. Primogeniture is not a system to foster kindly feelings (as Austen said the system which demands none of a group of sisters “come out” until the oldest is engaged leads to animosity).
Clive Francis as Francis as we first see him
Powerful scenes in Book 2 are the trial (covered in the last lecture) and Ross and Demelza’s plunge into becoming lovers: she desperate to avoid returning to her imprisoning home, he drunk, wretched, overcome with a need for human contact. She does not entrap him; she fears earning his contempt and he almost does react that way when in his mother’s dress he compares her to his mother. Book 2, Chapters 5-7. The careful slow believable and probable build-up; Demelza’s intense awakening and joy afterwards; his acknowledgment that this was not just “an expense of spirit in a waste of shame.” Elizabeth comes more for help with Francis who her own rejection of has driven from her and into drinking, gambling, promiscuity, debt, thinking to play on Ross’s love for her, but finds something has happened between the two and it is too late for her. To its credit the 2015 Poldark followed this trajectory including his decision to marry Demelza out of a liking and respect for her, that she had become part of his life, and the intensity of their congenial sexual encounters.
So the last phases of the book. Several inward looking threads:
1) Ross falls in love with Demelza, begins to appreciate her as an individual; he continues to love as this icon of aristocratic elusive beauty, Elizabeth. The love begins in the chapter of the harvest of pilchards, Book 3, Chapter 2; Graham may have written as well but he never wrote better. The greatness of it is it’s a recreation of the Daphnis and Chloe (Longus), Paul et Virginie (later 18th century), Tristan and Isolde archtypes interwoven completely with the detailed dramatization of a harvesting of pilchards by a community deeply in need of these fish to sell and to eat, in the context of a real Cornish cove. She packs a picnic supper. Much of the space is given over to describing the intensely important and ultimately successful catch through the use of the nets, yet our emotions are intensely with the each of our two presences.
‘Ross,’ she said, ‘dear Ross’ ‘I love you, he said, ‘and am your servant. Demelza look at me. If I’ve done wrong in the past, give me leave to make amwends.’ And so he found what he had half despised was not despicable, that what had been for him the satisfaction of an appetite, a pleasant but commonplace adventure in disappointment, owned wayward and elusive depths he had not known before and carried the knowledge of beauty in its heart.
A famous shot from the 1975 series when Ross tells Demelza he will give her his name, marry her
2) The failure of Elizabeth and Francis’s marriage. She prefers her son, Geoffrey Charles, is not finally in love with him, and his failure to cope with the world she can be patient with, but not empathize or help. That they have had no further children is to be taken as a sign of unsatisfactory sex: an 18th belief is still wit hus that satisfying sex brings about orgasm and orgasm pregnancy. It’s a myth used in novels by characters to try to prove a woman claiming rape was compliant (in Richardson’s Clarissa, in Kleist’s Marquise of O) Elizabeth’s resurgent love for Ross comes out of her dissatisfaction. We see Warleggan waiting on the side; he has lent Francis money and bound him that way.
Norma Streader as Verity: her close relationship with Ross slowly built up
3) The story of Verity — lonely, depressed, without feeling alive for herself (one of the many great chapters of Poldark series, all 12, is Chapter 14, when she returns to her room and faces what is her probable destiny: used but useful in her extended family. So ailing, she comes to stay with Ross and Demelza. Demelza fearing scorn holds off, but Verity wins her over by opening up her own tragedy to Demelza. Their shopping trip is to me a delight: like Ross’s trip to the fair in the first book, it enables Graham to present the 18th century world to us, shopping in the provinces, how people made their clothes. And we have a long trope of female friendship, so rare in male novels (hardly seen in most movies).
4) Graham has said that he did not plan another book, Ross Poldark was stand-alone, but I wonder if by the end of the book Graham knew he would continue: these latter two are the sort of thread that demand fulfillment. Demelza begins pro-active, diplomatically to question Ross to find out about this loss of love and hope Verity had known. Why start such a plot if you don’t mean to continue it into another book. Ross is right to worry about Blamey we are to feel too. A genuine gap between them. They will have male versus female reactions to primal experiences in later books. There is also what is going to happen to Jim Carter? Prudie and Jud kicked out of their jobs? will they continue alienated?
On average there was a three-year gap between Graham’s new books (not the rewritings) but Ross Poldark was 1945 and the very next year, 1946 Demelza. Jeremy Poldark appeared 1950; Warleggan 1953.
5) The last episode: Ross and Demelza are invited to Trenwith and almost torn apart by the pressure of the house and its history, the paintings, the sense of an ancient family Ross belongs to which she is outside of, but Demelza has a realistic success. She is helped to assert herself by Verity’s presence, by drink (she’s not perfect) and by her own native abilities against the spiteful Ruth Teague. Her pregnancy is actually a burden. Her first attempt at social class adjustment and we see in these scenes Francis instinctively kind and Elizabeth not deliberately hurting anyone.
One way to write a historical novel set in a given period is imitate the novels written in that period. Graham is imiating Emma where Austen’s Jane Fairfax plays so exquistely high culture music but Harriet says she prefers Emma’s poorer execution because the “performance” was so great. Also the songs easier. Elizabeth’s harp playing and use of Handel does take those who can enter a higher realm into it: that includes Francis (it is sad how their marriage fails). But Demelza’s folk approach is accessible, sexier and is liked by more. Demelza is getting back but before a sour note enters, Ross taps her shoulder lightly.
As the novel ends Ross and Demelza achieve communion of spirits walking home in the landscape as Verity has walked by his side with him. Far from this ancient imposing house, with its picture, night and the “old peculiar silence” ceases to make a barrier and “becomes a medium.” Their different pasts and personalities “could not just then break their companionship for long. Time had overawed them. Now it became their friend”
For next week: Demelza is not a sequel but a continuation. All the novels are continuation, continuing the story. Each one has a peculiar structure and themes of its own but they do not introduce a new set of characters who are dismissed from the action beyond the one novel. In Demelza Graham widens his purview to include the 18th century wold through a Cornish lends: topics will include medicine, law and justice, smuggling, banking.
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Aidan Turner as Ross working at his desk
The new mini-series, a few sketchy thoughts on Episodes 1-3:
I find I’m too attached to the novels after all and have a hard time judging this new one rationally. My worst complaint comes from the new dramaturgy: the scenes are far too short; in the modern way these begin at the end of a scene, are epitomizing, and have a momentary shot which suggest what was to happen and then we switch. The film editing feels crude: we move too abruptly from shot to shot.
Watch any 190s or 1980s mini-series: last night I was watching Barchester Chronicles, a mini-series from two novels by Anthony Trollope; what a striking difference from these new Poldarks; BC resembles the old Poldarks and The Oneddin Line. The three (BC, old Poldarks, and Oneddin) are all literate. Characters are presented with coherent thoughts; they talk to one another and express understandable ideas; debate issues. The scripts were hard-worked on and made sense. The writer does not have the time to develop complicated utterances or she fears the audience will not understand more complicated thoughts when not attached to something immediately personal.
Apparently some Poldark fans (on the facebook page) notice that the chronology from episode to episode is confused. PBS dumbs down by substituting bloody thrillers and situation comedies dressed up as costume drama (Doc Martin, Call the Midwife); the BBC carries on costume dramas of good books, with the alternative solution of having characters grunt at one another, and substituting scenic camera work (technology). It’s not the fault of the actors nor even the scriptwriter – though she appears to know little of the 18th century when it comes to underlying manners and attitudes nor director: the long hand of Mrs Thatcher, budget cuts, and despising of education is at the core of all this.
An overt feminism makes all the male characters order the females around peremptorily. That’s not how it worked. Alas the screenplay writer has not begun to read or understand some aspects of the actual male practical life of the era either, nor the 1790s revolutionary period — which the 1970s writers did. She gets wrong how men were paid; they did not get salaries but worked as tributers, entrepreneurs. The new Francis is made more sentimental and less cynical subversive — which is like the book, Francis’s wit (what are you being saved from? for?) which came from the book is gone, but perhaps the feminism of the producer and writer could not bear to show a man so careless of his wife, so easily promiscuous. Elizabeth in the book and in the 1970s movies was ambitious, cool, wanted to be seen, to go to London and shine in court (she never got the chance); they are sentimentalizing her too. Some of the face-book fans are happy that the portrait is more positive without examining why or how.
Ruby Bentall as Verity and John Hollingworth as Blamey — good in these roles
The Verity and Blamey story is fairly told and even all the parts, but it needed to be spaced out much more. It’s like a near final draft that needs more interweaving and raison d’etre somehow. I can see that there is a real attempt at time to film scenes from the book that were not filmed before.
I find I miss badly some of the original incarnations: Clive Francis as Francis, Norma Streader as Verity, Frank Middlemas as Charles. We also in this first episode have more romance than money scenes; the gardens are overdone the landscape does not look like Cornwall; the music is inferior to the original episodes and the paratexts not so aptly chosen; they are not original, not thought out. Turner and Tomlinson are good — his is an attempt at a hard unsentimental conception. the Jack Farthing as George Warleggan has the tones of Ralph Bates; Nicholas, the father is gone, but Pip Torrens as the corrupt ruthless uncle, Cary, repeats the tones, notes and kinds of sayings about profit) the old Nicholas uttered. But a number of the actors are weak (especially Kyle Soller in the role of Francis as narrow, spiteful, not bright); Heidi Reed Elizabeth is presented as in love with Ross — nothing about her complicated desires for status, wealth, social life. They don’t know what to do about some of the characters that are not driven by love primarily so have Ross and Demelza sort of be around one another pointedly. They do not have the guts to show characters immoral and careless the way the first series did. Phil David (superb actor) as Jud is thrown away; his gnomic statements of pessimism personalized so lose their meaning. Lots of the working class characters simply in effect dropped. They don’t want comedy or at least not the kind the first series did — it’s melodramatic. To be fair, the original 1970s series often omitted Graham’s best lines, the darker melancholy sceptical ones. It did include the comedy.
Ellis delivers a creditable performance as the narrow minded judge
On the other hand, it is also a different form of making movies; movies are made differently and I thought the third episode though also ‘dumbed down” used pictures again and movement beautifully to convey the love affair of Ross and Demelza. They are good actors.
Instead of actors in a stage being filmed; we have figures in a large screen who are part of the wholistic picture, and much is conveyed through gesture, picture, angle of shot. Still, they don’t use montage cleverly (too much money?) and Horsfield has Aidan Turner charging through the landscape on his horse as if she doesn’t know what to do with the actor — the imitation of Colin Firth half naked in the water by Turner with Demelza as voyeuristic in the grass was embarrassing and broke the suspension of disbelief utterly.
Eleanor Tomlinson as Demelza and Aidan Turner as Ross
Eleanor Tomlinson’s portrayal reflects our modern mood (she begins in distrust) but it is to my mind closer to the conception Graham had than the previous Demelza — who reflected “sex kitten” moments in the 1960s films (Tom Jones) and was far more 1970s feminist as well as not realistic. It was anachronistic in the extreme for her to tell anyone she did not know who the father of her baby was, much less its real father, Ross. The beaten down, shy, but slowly emerging Demelza in 2015 reflects our own distrusts and sense of darker realities. There are a few scenes (too brief but there) from the book where they shop, he buys her a cloak, she prepares decent food for him, we see them eating and talking together (alas no dialogue).
There is much to like — very very much to be moved by. In the way of modern adaptations the film-makers take a back story and put it as prologue so we have “Ross in America” and then a scene from his parting with Elizabeth, after which here we are in the coach again. I had hoped for the death of Joshua (which opens the book) but not to be. Phil Davis is a great actor, he’s not comic like Paul Curran, but he’s in a way more credible as a presence than Jud. The actor for Jim Carter resembles the earlier actor.
I am warming to Aidan Turner and thought he has some really effective moments. One stays with me. Demelza is leaving, walking off with the dog, as Prudie has told her see what he said, you’ve more trouble than you are worth, and she looks up and there is Turner photographed on the horse against the sky, looking magnificent somehow. Memorable. There’s a different concept for Demelza for Eleanor Tomlinson; she is made more central to Ross’s decision to stay, not a thief, desperate in a more abject way. In the book he never thinks to go;
The politics are the not the progressivism of the 70s but mirror dark and grim British moods of today.
Thus far I am not sure it will become mythic: the first Poldark had something deeply original about it — the music, the different paratexts carefully chosen to capture important moments (closing of Grambler, Smuggling, killing the informer); time will tell whether that these 8 hours have captured a new original spirit equivalent or analogous to the older one. It’s at a disadvantage being second but Andrew Davies in 1995 knocked the 1979 P&P off the map. Maybe they are trying too hard. Since they are communicating pictorially, they need to have more nerve in filming bold sudden moments of magnificence (Ross on his horse coming up to Demelza and taking her back when she runs away). They try for subtle symbolism in the simplified dialogue: when at the close of third episode he tells Elizabeth he is not leaving Cornwall, he says he had lost something, and his way, and now he has found it; that something is symbolized by or is also Demelza on his horse behind him as his wife. His choice of her embodies his values and the way of life he wants to lead.
Ellen
Nicely researched and written, Ellen. Not sure if I am alone in thinking this, but the first series seemed very much to depict the remoteness of Cornwall from the rest of the UK. It was nigh on impossible to get to, and the mining problems left it pretty undesirable for a country seat – unlike the properties in Pride and Prejudice. The desperation of living in poverty and very close proximity in small communities, away from any hope of help from the outside world, was dramatised very well in the first series, but I am finding it not so in this one. You feel Ross could pop down to Truro on his horse at any time! Ross and Dwight had experience outside of Cornwall, which most of its inhabitants would never ever have been able to, and fight to give the Cornish the same rights as elsewhere in both the books and series 1. Hoping this will come across better once Dwight and more of Ross’s political aspirations appear. Seashell Sal
I agree the landscape of this mini-series has no sense of the full realities of Cornwall. The modern camera here is denuded of any particulars: no neolithic stones, no groups of houses dotted here and there, no attempt to give us a sense of communities and activities quite apart from the stories and characters of the Graham books. The music is now uninteresting. The use of film slick. This is unimaginative cinematography.
There is an Americanization going on: the focus is on individuals. It saves money: go back and look at the parties of the first series: far more actors, far more built-up and naturalistic looking sets (as in the original fair). So we have individuals brought before in the climactic endings of each episode; if you compare the original series, they often ended on group scenes of high drama. Or an individual impinged on by group scenes. The George Eliot idea was in the first series: “There is no private life which has not been determined by a wider public life.”
There is a de-politicization. The American revolution was shown for a few minutes, but to trivialize it into a cowboy-action encounter in the immediate violence. The few words uttered by Ross suggested it didn’t matter who won; they were all hypocrites. But there were different visions of gov’ts at stake, and at the time the US gov’t was built on some new and good ideas. I suspect we will see the same neutral depictions of the riots in responses to enclosure and the starving condition when it comes to the material of Book 2 and 4. Will they be sympathetic to the scavenger ethic? how will they treat the smuggling? not as modes of understandable need and desperation I fear. The script writer just doesn’t know enough about the 18th century. The miners work as tributers not on salaries. Maybe she knows nothing about the 3 revolutions that happened at the time. What other film adaptations has she done?
The episodes are 75 minutes rather than just under an hour and it has taken them 3 such episodes nearly to cover Ross Poldark. That’s hopeful. They have 3 novels to go and 5 episodes so much can be dramatized from Demelza, Jeremy Poldark and Warleggan. The conceptions and acting of the characters of the Warleggans is strong.
Yes we must take these films as stories using the Graham characters, hollowed out of much much more of the original depths of depiction.
Charles Cloke: “An interesting take on the books…I agree that the new adapter hasn’t done enough of the right research…and sadly hasn’t really understood the subtle nuances of WG’s writing….I’m enjoying the new series, but only as something ‘based’ on Poldark….and it does look quite stunning at times….”
Sal:
“My response here was based on the fact that Ellen is using this subject as academic study, so it’s not really about the dramatisation, but more about the local content and historical detail included. Slightly different approach from the general forum, I thought – hence the discussion about the Cornish poverty and remoteness.
I did hear the interview with Debbie on Woman’s Hour and she was adamant that she had read the books, loved them and wanted to portray them to the best of her ability. I think she is doing this really well and she has to make a series that appeals to a huge worldwide audience in order to recoup the outlay for our BBC – something not quite so vital in the 70’s when a lot of experimentation went on and worldwide rights were not really a consideration. They had the luxury at that time to spend more time on these details, which had to be included once WG threatened to pull the plug anyway, and was all the better for it.
As a stand alone production I agree that the new one is nicely true to the original story, will bring a whole new generation on board, be great for Cornwall and bring pleasure to millions! Including me xX
I agree that the dramatization has real value in itself. I did write I responded deeply to some parts of episode 3; also that this new mini-series will bring many many more readers to Graham’s books. It is telling though that Horsfield felt she had to be adamant or strong that she knew and loved the books. All the BBC film-makers are probably aware of how diminished their capacity for filming these books has become: as I suggested a combination of money and the wider audience lacking the same education it once had.
I recommend a genuinely readable good book, Upstairs and Downstairs, ed. Julie Taddeo and James Leggott (not an academic but a person who worked/s for the BBC): it has many essays on the 1970s productions (all sorts including Blackadder and comedies), one on the 190s Poldark series, and two which include it. There’s an essay on the Oneddin Line (whose dramaturgy and outdoor filming is like the original Poldark).
Aidan Turner as a good choice for Ross Poldark has been brought up. I’d like to offer two different contexts: it’s been suggested to me that the cinematography and some of the action of this new Poldark resembles that of the Outlander; I heard a paper at an 18th century conference where it was suggested that Johnny Depp as Michael Winterbottom’s The Libertine has been influential; I compared some stills of Turner with Depp and there is a striking resemblance in the facial expressions, dark brooding pessimistic looks and wild hair-dos. Films imitate other films in the same era. The 1970s Poldark was very like the Oneddin Line in cinematography and conceptions of the characters, from the way they dressed to interactions.
I was a child when the 70s Poldark was on so don’t remember it in detail, but have seen clips on you tube. Of course, it was good, but I actually prefer this new series- the acting is more natural, the 70s series had a more stagey style of acting, and the new series is filmed not in sets but actual cottages and houses which look more realistic than sets. I also prefer the music too! I agree the scenes are faster, but I don’t mind that. I like Eleanor and Aidan’s portrayals a lot- I think they are excellent. Eleanor’s Demelza has a magical quality to her. I think many people are puzzled why Ross would still compare her with Elizabeth- who is rather dull in comparison! Demelza has so many facets to her character. The scene when she sings at Grambler is very moving. The actor who plays Blamey is Richard Harrington by the way. He’s been in a few period dramas. Ruby Bentall is wonderful as Verity. The tension in episode 6 was really effective- Ross is ready to blow!
I can’t agree. You need to sit down and watch through; as with Wolf Hall, you have to lend yourself to it. Some of the earlier actors are apparently irreplaceable and Horsfield has changed conceptions: I’m referring especially to Clive Francis as Francis Poldark and Paul Curran as Jud. To me though it’s telling about the _similarities_ of approach (and attitude towards viewers) that the reaction you are having to the present Demelza and Elizabeth is parallel to that people had to the 1970s Demelza and Elizabeth. In both productions Elizabeth is not done justice to — quite deliberately I’m beginning to see.
I loved Wolf Hall. I can sympathise with Elizabeth in being stuck in a loveless marriage- that was the reality for a lot of women. I will admit I haven’t read the books, but have read your commentaries, so I don’t know how much depth of character Elizabeth is given in the books- but in the series Demelza is shown as a far more interesting, lively person with more interests in life, who goes all out to learn and develop herself.
I may well get the DVDs of the original at some point. My Mum remembers the 70s series well- we used to watch it together. I was about 5-6 I think when it was aired. She likes the new series too. I plan to ask her more about the older one, and how she compares them.
I forgot to say that the issues and Ross’s anger against injustice, which really starts coming to a head in episode 4, I think is very relatable to many people in the 21st century. It certainly is to me. Aidan’s portrayal of Ross is causing a lot of comment online and I think people can empathise and agree with him. In a time of economic instability, with reports of corruption of rather a vile kind in modern British politics, cuts in public spending, whilst many families struggle to “heat or eat” the elite live in great hi tech luxury, we can feel for the poor in Poldark- the 18th century is not so far away.
Have you read these books? I’m teaching the first three this term; I’ve taught Ross Poldark twice. My paper, “Liberty in the Poldark novels” has actually gotten some readership this month:
http://www.jimandellen.org/LibertyPoldarkNovels.html
It seems to me no coincidence that just now that Poldark has been revived on film.
No, never read them. I don’t get much time for reading novels these days. But I actually prefer watching historical dramas than reading as my eyes get tired easily.
Sorry to hear that. I can’t read most evenings. Too tired. That’s when I watch movies and/or blog.
But if you could: Film adaptations are much richer in experience if you read the novels from which they are derived. And vice-versa: once you see a great film, your experience of the book is enriched. This is thought inferior somehow: a work should stand alone &c. Nonsense. All works interact. I wrote a paper on screenplays in which I suggest that to understand a film and get more out of it you must read a well-published screenplay. So that too. No screenplays for the old Poldarks but we may hope for one for this new TV mini-series Wolf Hall. Mantel has published her stageplay now on Broadway.
Reading is central to my existence. It has been since I was young and now (since my husband’s death) more than ever.
Hi. Have started reading the Poldark stories after seeing the start of this new production.
I’m loving the books, and have learnt a lot about the stories through your Blogs which are great! What a wonderful story teller Winston Graham was, so many different twists and turns.
I love the stories of the central characters, but also the history that is weaving in and out of the tales. Thanks for your Synopsis, finding them so good to read.
P.S. A little more on the last Christmas sequence of Ross Poldark: some notes:
So turn back to Ross Poldark, the last sequence
Ross and Demelza are invited to Trenwith and almost torn apart by the pressure of the house and its history, the paintings, the sense of an ancient family Ross belongs to which she is outside of. She is condescended to – unthinkingly. Francis is a kind man, but not the smartest and at one point he says “does she sing” when she’s in the room. Elizabeth means well, but is not actively welcoming, not proactive to come over; only Verity treats her as an equal human being. Outsiders can be snide – like Ruth Teague Treneglos – she has made a good marriage.
But Demelza has a realistic success. She is helped to assert herself by Verity’s presence, by drink (she’s not perfect) and by her own native abilities against the spiteful Ruth Teague. Her pregnancy is actually a burden. She goes upstairs to drink. Her first attempt at social class adjustment and we see in these scenes Francis instinctively kind and Elizabeth not deliberately hurting anyone but they don’t help.
Pp 282 – how Ross keeps his deeper reflective thoughts to himself; she is now aware of this –pp. 283 as they go on.
We hear of how Francis went on the grand tour – not for the son of a second son, p 283
Aunt Agatha, in her 90s, superstitious with a long memory. Michelangelo lived to 91 – a rare drawing of him shows a man not that different from Paul Curran in looks. Bald, withered, small. P 283 Graham again imagining this world: Demelza gives details of her girlhood, looks about her, Elizabeth explains. She is mentioning dying – she fears childbirth, p 285
She looks at her underclothes and feels cringe within – will never wear them again, p 287.
Ross finds Demelza has not inoculated him against Elizabeth. The right word to use.
Pp 289-91 Ross becomes aware something fundamentally wrong in Francis and Elizabeth marriage. Ross tries to talk to Francis, but of course you can’t teach another man, p 292-93
He is filling us in on larger and local politics, pp 296-297. Warleggan and his cousin, Cary, own more than half of Francis. Debts paid and now he must pay interest on the loans. Using Grambler profits.
Social scene, upper class people are crude too, not well read – Treneglos says Ross a kind of Robinson Crusoe, it was a popular novel throughout 18th and 19th centuries, but he has his man Friday says Ruth – she is snarky. P 299
Harp playing and use of Handel does take those who can enter a higher realm into it: that includes Francis (it is sad how their marriage fails). But Demelza’s folk approach is accessible, sexier and is liked by more, pp 300-4.
Demelza is getting back but before a sour note enters – for she is coming down to Ruth’s level –, Ross taps her shoulder lightly.
As the novel ends Ross and Demelza achieve communion of spirits walking home in the landscape as Verity has walked by his side with him. Far from this ancient imposing house, with its picture, night and the “old peculiar silence” ceases to make a barrier and “becomes a medium.” Their different pasts and personalities “could not just then break their companionship for long. Time had overawed them. Now it became their friend”
I don’t like this half-defense of male violence towards women here. But in context she is seeing how lonely and without a life Verity feels and she wants to help her.
Demelza ends singing a song Jud sings: she is Friday to Ross’s Robinson Crusoe.
I noticed in the 2015 series how certain characters are given different motivations: George Warleggan seems more in thrall of Ross in the new series. His uncle is really the very vulgar one here. Francis is more a wimp now, Elizabeth is really pining for Ross and much more nuanced now.
Wimp seems to me an unfortunate catch-all put down which doesn’t do justice to the complex characterization of Francis by Horsfield. It’s not sympathetic and only partially comes from Graham’s book. It seems to come out of assumption that aggression or violence are what’s wanted in men, competition above all — at least even if marginalized and hardly characterized at all (much less fully) Horsfield has remained true to Graham’s conception of Dwight Enys who is similarly made by Graham an anti-macho male ideal. In the original book Ross Paldark is no bully, he is tender-hearted (why he takes the child Demelza on); his way of rising is through communal work — where all rise together, albeit with him at the head. A salutary ideal for our time.
Maybe a better word to describe the 2015 TV version of Francis is not “wimp” but unfocused, under-motivated. He really doesn’t know what to do with himself, with his time. His father seemed to dominate the family so much that he himself hasn’t figured out how to be a patriarch.
He doesn’t want to be a patriarch — that’s anachronistic. No one thought that way in the 18th century. He is rake type, but kindly and intelligent; he has no work ethic, aristocrats didn’t. he might not be that good in bed. So what? He’s not a bully and Elizabeth (if you’ve read the novels you’ll know this) comes to regret the loss of Francis when she has to confront her new husband’s demands and lies. In fact Francis is much missed; no use for gathering money, gets into debt but he gilds life’s experiences, makes them fun with his wit and insouciant charm. Not a determined goal-ridden type, no. Why should he do anything with himself. He does not need to. He’s Francis Poldark, an heir to an ancient lineage. In the book and 1975 film he’s not fooled by George either.
[…] Ross Poldark: Ends restoratively; concluding notes […]
But a number of the actors are weak (especially Kyle Soller in the role of Francis as narrow, spiteful, not bright);
I really have to disagree with you on this. Fervently. I thought Soller gave the best performance in this production. He took Francis from an affable, yet desperate-to-please young man to an embittered and insecure landowner barely able to handle the responsibilities that he had inherited.
Frankly, I’m more impressed by Soller’s performance than I am by Clive Francis, who had a tendency to get a little histrionic – especially the first eight episodes of the 1975 production.
By the way, Clive Francis’ F. Poldark proved to be just as narrow, spiteful and not very bright. I just watched the first eight episodes and still do not understand the hostility toward Soller’s performance.
Looking back I misspoke — or miswrote. I meant the character is weak; Koller’s performance is superb and gets better as the series carries on. Alas, it seems Horsfield is killing him off way before the books call for this. He was in the Hollow Crown. My guess is the hostility is towards the character type: a weak male. Clive Francis’s weak male was modelled on the Joe Orton type which dominated the 1960s stage.
Hi Ellen
Just found the blog which I’m enjoying.
I find much to enjoy in the new Poldark, and much which irritates too.
But I must disagree with you on the issue of the filming of Cornwall–the houses and the centre of Truro excepted–this is very much the Cornwall landscape, shot beautifully; particularly season 1 which benefited from being filmed in the spring with wonderfully sunny weather–though season 3 also looks wonderful: particularly Holywell bay (Drake and Morwenna) standing in for Hendrawna.
The Ross bathing scene and the Pilchards scene were both shot around Porthgwarra and show how beautiful the Cornish coves of south Penwith can be: with soft coral colored cliffs, white shell sand and turquoise sea.
Filming has taken place at the cliff tops near Sennen (Ross and Elizabeth prologue), cliffs at Chapel Porth / St Agnes Head (Julia’s ribbon), Gunwalloe Beach (wrecking scene); the cinematography is wonderfully clear, HD, and captures well the wonderful light of Cornwall ; I’ve also enjoyed the attention to the wild way thatflowers: Thrift, various umbels, Hottentots Fig (invader though it is).
I think where the new Poldark season 1 portrayal of the Cornwall landscape diverges from expectations is in how sunny the weather is; whereas filming in Cornwall is often in Winter to avoid the tourist season : which was the case with new Poldark season 2.
Hope you are enjoying season 3.
Gary
Dear Gary, I am actually glad to be corrected. I’ve been to Cornwall only once and for merely 8 days. I tried to see as much as I could, but inevitably (with friends) it was tourist sites. I went into a mine (which now stages on Thursday Poldark skits) that goes back to Elizabethan times and operated until the mid-20th century.
I am trying to work on a book on Graham, these Poldark books and Cornwall, so all help, advice, corrections are welcome.
I’m seeing Season 3 very slowly. I live in the US and access to the BBC iplayer software has been cut off from non-UK computers. A kind friend has been sending me DVDs. I’ve watched up to Episode 5. Soon I hope to have Episodes 6 and 7. The US PBS channel is ruthless (without conscience) on what they show of these programs, sometimes cutting, sometimes re-arranging so I make every effort to watch the original BBC versions.
Tourist sites are fine, they become such for a reason 🙂 There is something universally Cornish in all of the authentic landscapes in the old and new Poldark series.
The diversity that exists in the Cornish landscape are the differing facets of the same underlying geology: a narrow granite peninsula. The granite provides the poor soil: heathland, moor and dunes–but rich in wildflowers; rocks, stones and rugged cliffs; the myriad streams that birth so many coves and beaches; but also the wooded creeks around the Helford river. As a peninsula the landscape is bathed in light. The austerity of the landscape–I think–is a perfect companion to the sea. I find the whole unbelievably romantic.
In new Poldark: Truro away from the harbour; and the stately homes are not Cornish; I’m also suspect of the woodland around Trenwith.
We are up to episode 6; episode 7 aired last night but we are down here in Cornwall for 2 weeks and decided to wait until we get back to watch them properly. We are enjoying season 3, Morwenna and Drake in particular is really well done, though annoyances persist. I wanted the new to combine the acting and script of the first with the wonderful cinematography and high production values we expect today: and in this the series has only been partially successful.
I am working my way through your blog and enjoying it. Good luck in your endeavours.
Gary
Thank you for this second reply. I’ve now read two books on Cornwall and know I need to read more. Both emphasize the early history and formation of the peninsula which made it so rich in metals, and shaped its economic structures. Now these loads have been superseded in South America and elsewhere (and Cornish people went these other places to teach others how to mine and to work).
In the first edition of Poldark’s Cornwall, Winston Graham identifies some of the houses he had in mind as in Cornwall but if one looks at the opening say of Warleggan, you see several houses and they are probably composites. The new edition of Poldark’s Cornwall omitted some of the most valuable content of the old: Graham on his life, on the first movement towards filming the series (before the 1970s) and on the 1970s films a bit.
I praised Horsfield’s scripts last year after I got the two books and was able to sit down and read them. They read well, but somehow when acted and directed, they do not come across with any of the complexity and facility of the older scripts which feel like very effective dramatized novels. Last night I rewatched Episode 5 (the rescue of Dwight and death of Henshawe with added scenes of failed politicking for George) and then the incomparable Episode 4: even in the Morwenna/Drake story, there is nothing comparable in the new one to Drake’s accosting of Morwenna in the church, and demanding why she is giving in, and her explanation, defense and grief. My feeling is the new directors just don’t give the actors time and space and some of them are not as good. Turner lacks subtlety.
Yes I’ll try to keep up this book project: I love these books and both sets of films too much to give it up 🙂
And I’ll get back to Cornwall.