I shall never forgive God for making me a woman, and dearly am I beginning to pay for the honour of owning a pretty face.

Chapter one of Far from the Madding Crowd ends with one word—vanity. That word sets off in motion the rest of the story, embeds itself in major plot points, and is something Hardy doesn't let us forget. To the men of Weatherbury, Bathsheba is a novelty. Her independence, determination, and pride set her apart from the other local women. But what is really fascinating about Bathsheba, what really sets her apart from her peers, is her beauty. Bathsheba may be running a farm almost by herself, she may be a generous employer, and well educated too! But all of that is merely clutter getting in the way of what is truly important—that she is a beautiful woman. Even when it seems that characters truly care for Bathsheba, they love her, look out for her, they do this in spite of her admirable qualities. Their love depends on her beauty, nothing more. Bathsheba's connections are shallow and never seem to venture further than skin deep. Time and time again Bathsheba makes impulse decisions based solely on the lack of attention she receives, and who can blame her when everyone around her has made it abundantly clear that her only value is a visual one? The men of Far from the Madding Crowd can pull her over the coals for being vain, but they never let her become anything else. The one thing that they revere her for is the one thing they won't allow her to take pride in.