Anthony Trollope

The eponymous Senator is Elias Gotobed, whose curious name alludes to that fact that he has a tendency to send people to sleep. After his friend John Morton inherits the estate of Bragton Hall, he travels to England with him, his fiancée Arabella Trefoil, and her mother Lady Augustus. The Senator is keen to undertake a study of English life, and is delighted when they are all invited to stay at Rufford Hall, the home of wealthy bachelor Lord Rufford. Arabella realises that the Lord is a greater matrimonial prize than Morton and encourages his advances. Frustrated with her lack of progress, she lets it be known that he proposed to her, a charge he vigorously denies. Lady Augustus threatens him with a breach of promise action and he agrees to pay Arabella £8,000 in ‘damages’. ...

As is often the case with Trollope’s novels, The Claverings (1867) is an uncomfortable yet compelling read. The hero of the piece is Harry Clavering, who is jilted by the beautiful Julia Brabazon in favour of a dissipated, but rich, old aristocrat, Lord Ongar. Clavering devotes himself to a career as an apprentice civil engineer and becomes engaged to his master’s daughter, Florence Burton. He looks set for a successful family and business life until the widowed Julia Brabazon, now Lady Ongar, reappears. He must choose between a safe but predictable life with Florence, or the glittering and indolent role of Julia’s husband. ...

In his Autobiography Trollope declared “Lady Anna is the best novel I ever wrote! Very much! Quite far away above all others!!!” Unfortunately, the reading public did not agree and Trollope was forced to defend his heroine on many an occasion. Much of the narrative in this 1874 novel is focused on the eponymous Lady Anna’s mother, Countess Lovel. She was the penniless Josephine Murray who impetuously agreed to marry the dissipated Earl Lovel for his money and status. After the birth of Anna, he casts them both aside, revealing that he already has a wife living in Italy. Shortly afterwards he dies, thereby creating much work for the lawyers. The Countess embarks upon an indefatigable quest to restore her daughter’s good name and fortune. In the meantime, they are supported by the kindly local tailor, Thomas Thwaite, who uncomplainingly spends his life savings on keeping them in comfort. The young Anna falls in love with his son, Daniel, a journeyman tailor and inveterate Radical, but the Countess is determined that she should instead marry her cousin, the heir to her father’s estate. ...

The Belton Estate (1865) is the story of a young woman, Clara Amedroz, who vacillates between two suitors: her bucolic but passionate cousin Will, who is heir to her father’s entailed farm, and Captain Aylmer, an urbane but unemotional MP who is tied to his rebarbative mother’s apron strings. The narrative reflects the Jane Austen novels read by Trollope during the 1860s, and they inform his portrayal of an impecunious unmarried woman. With no income of her own and an ailing father, marriage is Clara’s only means of survival, and she struggles with her impending dependence on the men who surround her. She dramatically articulates her frustration: “I think it would be well if all single women were strangled by the time they are thirty.” The sub-plot, involving Captain and Mrs Askerton, deals with society’s intolerance towards others marital misfortunes (an echo of Dr Wortle’s School) and it also serves to highlight both Clara’s humanity and the superficiality of one of her suitors. ...

My Trollope season continues with The Eustace Diamonds (1873), the third in the series of Palliser novels, and my least favourite thus far. The young and beautiful Lizzie Greystock traps the elderly and very wealthy Sir Florian Eustace into marriage, and within a year she is a widow in possession of a necklace worth £10,000 (around half a million quid): the Eustace diamonds. Although she is adamant that the jewels were a gift from her late husband, the Eustace family lawyer insists they were an heirloom and therefore not hers to keep. He embarks upon a quest to retrieve them from the clutches of the recalcitrant Lady Eustace, who boldly repels the intrusions of detectives and decamps to Scotland in order to protect her assets. ...

The second of Trollope’s Palliser novels, Phineas Finn, is also the first of his works with a predominant parliamentary theme. Although of relatively humble origins, the eponymous hero is elected MP for Loughshane through the support of his father’s old friend Lord Tulla. His father urges him to merely dabble in politics and focus on building a more lucrative legal career, but Finn is seduced by a life in Westminster and the circles in which he is now moving. ...

I think Trollope is just showing off. Apparently, he wrote Dr Wortle’s School (1881) in just three weeks. Admittedly, it’s a fairly slim volume, but even so, he’s still a pesky overachiever. The eponymous Doctor runs a successful private school and enjoys a good reputation in the fictional county of Broughtonshire. His life is severely disrupted, however, by the arrival of a new schoolmaster, Mr Peacocke, and his beautiful American wife. Although outwardly a perfectly respectable, yet enigmatic, couple, the appearance of a stranger at the school gates heralds the revelation that Mrs Peacocke is a bigamist. Now, I’m not spoiling anything here, as Trollope ruins this plot element himself in the opening pages. He wanted to avoid the plot-driven style of the sensation novel and instead focus on the psychological drama. ...

I’m currently enjoying something of a Trollope Fest. This is a rather indulgent activity, as really I should be focusing on some women novelists. In my defence, I was reliably informed that The Vicar of Bullhampton was inspired by Trollope’s interest in the Woman Question. An unexpected dip in her friend’s pond brings Mary Lowther to her senses, and she realises she cannot marry a man she doesn’t love. Although she is adamant, those closest to her conspire to change her mind and they ultimately come to regret it. This is one strand to the novel and, in my opinion, the least successful. Trollope did a much better job in Miss Mackenzie and Can You Forgive Her?, where he considered whether a woman should marry out of a sense of duty. Rachel Ray also saw a far more nuanced examination of the Woman Question. The authorial voice, reflecting, I assume, the opinion of Trollope, decrees that marriage is a woman’s inexorable destiny and she should not fight it. If only they (and also men) came to accept the fact, then life would proceed more smoothly for everyone. The novel was published in 1870, by which time other writers were highlighting the plight of the “surplus” women, for whom marriage was an unlikely prospect. It’s odd that Trollope appears to have taken a retrograde step, unless it was a personal backlash against his own earlier liberalism. ...

In writing Miss Mackenzie (1865), Trollope was attempting to “prove that a novel may be produced without any love,” but later admitted in his autobiography that the attempt “breaks down before the conclusion”. Margaret Mackenzie is an unlikely heroine, being both plain and middle-aged.1 I shall overlook the fact that at 34 she is described as being clearly past her best. After many years lodging with an older brother and nursing him through his illness, Miss Mackenzie finds herself the beneficiary of a £12,000 legacy. This sum produces a not inconsiderable income of £800 per annum, and she is suddenly a valuable commodity, rather than an encumbrance. Her other, impecunious, brother expects her to move in with him and his large family, seeing himself as more deserving of the fortune. Margaret instead moves herself to Littlebath, a fictional watering-place in the West Country, and establishes a life of her own. ...

According to P D Edward’s introduction, Trollope sent a copy of Rachel Ray to George Eliot, wondering what she would think of his “little story”. History does not tell us her response, but I suspect she would have enjoyed it, as it is not unlike her own Scenes of Clerical Life. He tried to confine himself to the “commonest details of commonplace life” but this anything but a dull novel. ...