Here you can read an article from The Telegraph about Hardy’s heroin and her legacy :

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Literature’s feistiest feminists : How Thomas Hardy paved the way for The Hunger Games’ Katniss Everdeen

20 Apr 2015

With a new film adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd to be released, the book’s feisty heroine is sure to enchant a new generation of fans. Clementine Ford argues for the importance of complex women characters

"Well, what I mean is that I shouldn’t mind being a bride at a wedding, if I could be one without having a husband. But since a woman can’t show off in that way by herself, I shan’t marry - at least yet." So says Bathsheba Everdene, the formidable heroine at the centre of Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd. Although written almost 150 years ago, Bathsheba remains as fierce a character as ever - and she will be brought to life once more in a dazzling new production starring Carey Mulligan, Michael Sheen and Matthias Schoenaerts. Directed by Thomas Vinterberg, the film perfectly captures the allure of Bathsheba and the stunning Wessex countryside that forms the backdrop for Hardy’s tale of love, resilience and independence. But what is it that makes Bathsheba so alluring, even today ? It can’t be her beauty : if literature has taught us anything, it’s that beauty without dimension becomes rapidly dull. Rather, it’s the complexities of Bathsheba that define her as extraordinary. Her desire for independence and to determine her own destiny certainly fixes her as a proto-feminist, which is a welcome respite from the many female characters penned by men over the years who have been little more than ciphers or projections of the masculine ego. Her wit is enchanting, as is her self-regard. And yet, Bathsheba is not what modern parlance typically calls a “strong female character”. Less a definition than a reduction, the SFC was Hollywood’s devious response to the frustrations feminists had with the representation of women. The long history of women performing the decidedly uninteresting role of love interest or supportive family member might not have abated, but we are now supposed to be content with occasional glimpses of fierceness - women who live independently, can rough and tumble with the best of them and yet, perhaps not so surprisingly, still seem to end up as the reward for the real protagonist. Unlike these artificial visions of femininity, Bathsheba is not a woman whose only strength is knowing how to wield a strong will and a stronger wisecrack. Like the new generation of complex female characters (think Clarke, Lexa and Octavia from The 100 ; Arya Stark and Cersei Lannister in Game of Thrones ; Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games), Bathsheba is rich with nuance. Her decisions are not always right, nor is her motivation always clear. She is not always likeable - and it is this, above all else, that makes her so real and relatable. In Hebrew, Bathsheba means “daughter of the oath” but Bathsheba Everdene can be seen instead as one of the foremothers of great women in literature. Who, then, have been some of her successors ?

Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables

The eponymous heroine of LM Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables shared Bathsheba’s views on marriage, favouring independence over becoming merely the property of a man. After being sent as an orphan to Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert at the age of 11, Anne gradually wins over the hearts and minds of her community with her enthusiasm and bravado. Anne stands at odds with the idea that women should conceal their emotions and effervescence : she is buoyant beyond measure, devoting herself to her friendship with Diana Barry (“my kindred spirit !”) and fighting fiercely with Gilbert Blythe. A heroine to multiple generations of young girls, Anne was both tenacious and uncompromisingly loyal to her convictions.

Lisbeth Salander, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

A drastic departure from the sunny dispositions of Anne Shirley and I Capture the Castle’s Cassandra Mortmain, Lisbeth Salander explodes like a volcano onto the pages of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy. Originally titled Men Who Hate Women, Larsson’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo introduced Lisbeth to the world. Damaged and exploited by the system which she must also answer to, Lisbeth’s endurance in the face of relentless misogyny harks back to the same ferocity that drives Hardy’s Bathsheba. These are both women forced to operate within a world that neither respects their individual autonomy nor listens to the language that they speak to tell their stories.

Arya Stark, Game of Thrones

George RR Martin’s Game of Thrones series is probably the biggest thing to happen to the world of serialised novels since... well, ever. Their enduring popularity is partially due to the combination of lustful sex scenes and glorified violence, but there’s something else, too - the complexity and agency that Martin gives to his female characters. Boasting a rich tapestry of women, there are few more intriguing than young Arya Stark, whose disregard for feminine wiles underpins her desire to avenge the deaths of her family members. From the opening moments of Martin’s odyssey, Arya rejected the path set out for noble women and it’s anyone’s guess what her fate may end up being.

Katniss Everdeen, The Hunger Games

Which brings us to the last of Bathsheba’s daughters. Katniss Everdeen owes her name to Hardy’s heroine ; Suzanne Collins, author of The Hunger Games, said of the pair that “the two are very different, but both struggle with knowing their hearts”. Indeed, Katniss is a closed book, protective of the few people she loves and uncomfortable with the vulnerability that comes from opening herself to others. Charged with leading a revolution against the dystopian government rulers of Panem, Katniss rejects the frivolous romantic intrigues of many of her literary contemporaries and focuses instead on being a leader. In a vague nod to Hardy’s denouement, the trilogy’s closing moments reveal that even post-revolution happiness comes at a cost for Katniss, as it surely must do for anyone who has been through the trauma of war.

The worth bestowed upon literary heroines who boast nuance and complexity may still be undervalued, but it does at least exist. And it exists in part because characters such as Bathsheba Everdene have stood the test of time and paved the way for other flawed, raw and wonderfully real women to be committed to the page. We need women like Bathsheba precisely because they are real, instead of artificially imagined versions of women as many male writers would like them to be. Flawed female characters are perhaps the most feminist literary expression of all, because they tacitly recognise the multi-dimensional landscapes that exist inside the women reading them. With this new adaptation set for release, viewers will be given the opportunity to either reacquaint themselves with Bathsheba. Or perhaps, luckily, meet her for the first time.