Anthony Trollope (1815–1882)

If you're like me, and you love you some Trollope, but sometimes you think those 500- and 600-page novels could be shortened by not giving us so many scenes illustrating a character's frustrating principled stubbornness (yes, yes, we get it), then Uncle Henry is for you. Only about 250 pages in the Penguin paperback edition that I read.
A wonderful story told efficiently. And with those trademark Trollope morsels:
Like Isabel looking "with all the eyes she had."
And Henry, desperately thinking show more about what to do with the pivotal will that leaves the Llanfeare estate to Isabel instead of him, contemplates ways that he could destroy it, even "eat it bit by bit if it were necessary." show less

I had been warned that this is not Anthony Trollope's most exciting novel, but as it is the first in the Barsetshire Chronicles and I had a copy at hand, it was the first Trollope that I've read. It hasn't generally aged well, nineteenth century Church of England politics being somewhat out of fashion as a topic of interest, but the writing is strong and reminded me why I enjoy Victorian authors so much.

Reverend Harding is a pleasant, ineffectual man who has a sinecure as the warden of a show more small retirement home for deserving working class men that includes a house with pleasant gardens and an annual salary of 800 pounds, given to him because one of his two daughters had married the son of the bishop. Here he lives comfortably, enjoying his music, reading books and visiting the old men in the adjoining hospital now and again. His life would have continued in pleasant routine had not a spirit of reform begun to sweep England and a young reformer, the aptly named John Bold, questioned the generosity of the annual allowance.

Trollope is clearly on the side of the status quo, and he breaks from the narrative to complain about the tactics of an author (supposedly Charles Dickens), whom he calls Mr Popular Sentiment, and who he accuses of biasing the public by creating characters and situations that manipulate the reader into sympathy with his poor working class characters. Of course, Trollope is doing exactly the same thing here; Harding is so mild and inoffensive that it is impossible not to hope that he can keep his generous and largely unearned salary.

Outside of the machinations of the lawyers, clergymen and journalists, there is a sub-plot involving Harding's unmarried daughter and John Bold. They had feelings for each other before Bold discovered possible shady dealings on the matter of the wardenship and it's uncertain as to whether their love will survive the conflict. This part of the novel is particularly satisfying, as Eleanor is an interesting character and Bold's conflict as he tries to do what he sees is right without losing her love results in the most satisfying chapters in this brief novel.

I'm looking forward to continuing on with the Barsetshire Chronicles. show less

This is the second book in Trollope's Palliser series and it follow Phineas Finn's entrance into adulthood and simultaneously into politics. There is quite a bit of 1860s British politics, but though I was afraid that would become a bit of a slog, it was all fairly clearly explained and added to the story.

I really loved the character of Phineas Finn. Generally, I think that Trollope writes female characters best, but with Phineas we get an overall good person who has some character flaws, show more but is genuine and grows throughout the novel. He is lucky and things generally work out for the best for him, but his luck seems to stem from people liking him and being willing to help which makes me not begrudge this lucky streak.

The novel also explores the plight of women in the upper classes, with their lack of power and control over their lives. There are four women to contrast here: Lady Laura, who chooses a rich but boring and controlling husband; Violet Effingham, who knows who she loves but holds out on marrying him because she doesn't trust him and is worried about losing her independence; Madame Goesler, a wealthy single woman who is slightly mysterious and seems to have found that her power lies in remaining single; and sweet Mary, Phineas's childhood sweetheart from Ireland. All of these women are either in love with Phineas or he is in love with them at some point in the novel.

Overall, this was another excellent novel as I've come to expect from Trollope. Though I loved Phineas, this won't be my favorite Trollope novel, though. It didn't have as many asides from Trollope and I missed those. My star rating will rate this novel in comparison to the other Trollope novels I've read and would be higher if I was comparing it to all the books I read. show less

Barchester Towers is the second of Anthony Trollope's books set in the fictional county of Barsetshire. I read the first, The Warden and, while appreciating the writing, never fell in love with the book. I had the same experience with Barchester Towers, until halfway through when things took off and I could not stop reading.

Like The Warden, Barchester Towers is largely concerned with wrangling between groups of Anglican clergymen, some of whom want to reform the system and others who have show more benefited from what is essentially an old boys network and are deeply invested in keeping things as they are. Trollope is clearly on the side of tradition, which left me siding with the obvious villains of the piece. Here, a new bishop is appointed by the government and it isn't the pompous Grantly, but Proudie (it must be said that Trollope's names are not as good as Dickens'), who arrives with not only a wife who expects a voice in matters, but also a personal clergyman, Mr Slope, whose ambitions manage to alienate everyone. And so the church in Barchester is split into two factions, both jostling for power, mainly in the appointment of various sinecures.

Trollope does a lovely job writing his female characters. While he's a big proponent of people knowing their place, he writes women as real people, with as much intelligence and personality as any of his male characters. And my favorite was Mrs Proudie, a woman accustomed to being in charge and who, when briefly thwarted, becomes a force to be reckoned with. Trollope also has an entertaining habit of going all meta here and there, to point out who the villains are, or to explain how he has tailored his story in order to fulfill the expectations of the reader.

On the other hand, I found Trollope frustrating in a few regards. He has a tendency to put some of the most interesting scenes outside of the story, so that the reader is only told of the result of a fabulous conflict or romantic interlude. This was a great disappointment, especially when an encounter has been foreshadowed and anticipated for some time. A paragraph or two telling the reader what happened is not good enough, Mr Trollope! He also has a habit of telling the reader things about the characters' personalities which are not bourn out in the telling of the story. Not only is he telling-not-showing, but he's telling us things that just aren't true. Specifically, that Mrs Proudie is a villain, or that a certain family is devoid of heart - despite Trollope telling the reader this several times, their actions show this to simply not be true.

I'm interested enough in the doings in Barsetshire to continue with the series, but I have my issues with Mr Trollope. show less