My one exposure to Trollope, and I came away quite impressed. The story deals not so much with the titular doctor's school, but with the doctor himself. Dr. Wortle is a clergyman who runs a well-thought-of school, but who finds himself in difficulty because he refuses to turn his back on some tenants of his, Mr. and Mrs. Peacocke.

As full of integrity as he is of himself, Dr. Wortle does the right thing almost for the wrong reasons; it is difficult to like or even admire him by story's end, so prickly is Trollope's protrayal. But Dr. Wortle is proved out in the end, and in the (paraphrased) words of his detested acquaintance, Dr. Puddicombe, "He admires the doctor for protecting Mrs. Peacocke, because while it was wrong for a clergyman to do so under the circumstances, but right, morally and charitably."

I was impressed with Trollope's conception and handling of our proud and prickly Dr. Wortle. Especially convincing are the public disputes into which he flung himself and those of his acquaintance. ( )

trollope in love. in jamaican climes, under the starry canopy: "how beautiful a woman looks by their light, how sweet smells the air. he loved quick dances and long drinks. sudden intimacies would spring up in the sultry air. they helped him understand more of women's mysteries. they were grist for his mill. he was discovering that he had more pull with the distaff side than he had thought previously. middle age, he was in his mid-forties, brought a greater ease and fluency in his dealings with women other than his wife. there are words a man cannot resist from a woman, even though he knew them to be untrue. or the amusement of pretending to be in love, never ceased to get his interest, whether people were married, or not. people playing at caring for one another. this never failed to catch his gimlet eye. ( )

Dr. Wortle's School was enjoyable to a degree but left me vaguely dissatisfied - much like eating fruit for dessert when what you wanted was a hunk o' fudge cake. DWS is pure Victorian melodrama, albeit with plenty of Trollope's relentless ridicule of the society's hypocrisy and lack of Christian charity. After the initial description of the good doctor I was prepared to dislike him intensely, no matter how benevolent his depotism. Then came the description of him as being "in no respect a wicked man, and yet a little wickedness was not distasteful to him." We should all be so lucky, to be described thusly. By the end I was wishing to have such a friend by my side, should I ever encounter misfortunes on the magnitude of those besetting the perfect Peacockes.

Mr. Peacocke was almost unforgivably a paragon, yet what he undertook on behalf of his wife was the embodiment of romance. Forget poetry, roses, sweet nothings: the labors of Peacocke eclipse them all.

I was taken with Dr. Wortle himself. He was one of AT's most realistic characters, amid the sea of vividly-drawn, believable characters. The problem is, I think, that I've been spoiled by the likes of Barchester Towers and The Claverings (the latter still much underappreciated, I think), even The Way We Live Now, so breezing through an AT seemed wrong. I was prepared for heading into the wind and instead found mere breezes, delightful though they may be.

All that being said: this book was another "AT lite" effort. He did uncharacteristically get on with matters right from the start, and in a mere 273 pages tied up everything neatly. No subplots, no lovers' quarrels or triangles, no legal wrangling over an estate. Would make a very nice TV movie, for the Hallmark channel or Lifetime. ( )