How to use this Page

By John Bowen

James Murdoch will today be hauled over the coals once more, by a House of Commons select committee determined to find out exactly what lay at the bottom of the phone-hacking affair. It has all the best ingredients of a modern political story – a too close relationship of politicians and press; a secret world of networking and influence now dragged, kicking and screaming, into the light; secret payments, cover-ups, and public outrage; and a strong whiff, not to say stench, of corruption in the air. The story of the ex-policeman, now a private investigator, detailed to pursue the lawyers of Milly Dowler in the hope of unearthing something discreditable or scandalous, is only the latest twist in what seems a peculiarly modern spiral of press misbehaviour and political greed.

The Murdoch affair seems the most contemporary of stories, chock-full of hacked mobile phones, high-tech surveillance equipment and secret video-recordings. But although the technology might have changed, it is a world that would have been only too familiar to nineteenth-century author Anthony Trollope. He was as fascinated as we are by what lies behind the public face of politics: the personal passions, rivalries and love affairs, the ins and outs of office, the spectacular rises and equally rapid falls.

It’s been a strange and revealing business, editing and living with Anthony Trollope’s 1873 Palliser novel, Phineas Redux, over the past couple of years. In one way, the Palliser novels seem to come from a world immeasurably distant from our own – aristocrat-run, high-imperial Britain before universal suffrage, motor cars and telephones, let alone the 24-hour news cycle that today’s politicians have learned to live with. But then again, the Palliser world very often seems strangely familiar, and not simply because the parliamentary rituals and furniture seem to have changed so little over the past century and a half. Almost daily throughout the editing process I would turn from thinking about Phineas’s complex love life, or Mr Daubeny’s machinations to stay in office, to the day’s news stories with a wry smile of recognition.

Trollope is sometimes wrongly thought to be a rather soothing or comforting writer, an old pair of slippers or the kind of Trollope a male politician could admit to cuddling up with in perfect safety. If that’s your view, Phineas Redux will make you think again. Not long before, Trollope, who had always wanted a parliamentary career, had stood as a Liberal candidate for Beverley in East Yorkshire. He came bottom in the poll and the corruption and inanity of electioneering disgusted him. The insight and disillusionment that followed fuels the novel, a story about a young politician in the making, who finds himself entangled in a nasty political quarrel that turns even nastier when his hated rival, with whom he has just very publicly quarrelled, is found dead, stabbed in a back alley. It’s not the first bit of violence in the book; a little earlier Phineas himself has been shot at by the enraged and half-mad husband of his intimate (but not too intimate) friend Lady Laura Kennedy (the bullet missed, or the book would have had to end there). By the time we get our hero safely to the end of the book and into the loving arms of the mysterious heiress Madame Max, he and we have also survived a corrupt election, accusations of bribery and electoral malpractice, alleged adultery and a secret investigation into bigamy in Poland. These adventures climax in a legal and political battle fought out over the publication of a private letter in the press, which claims to rev

Add a Comment

By Helen Small Pathological lying, the philosopher Sissela Bok tells us, ‘is to all the rest of lying what kleptomania is to stealing’. In its most extreme form, the liar (or ‘pseudologue’) ‘tells involved stories about life circumstances, both present and past’.

Add a Comment

Lady Anna. Anthony Trollope. 1874/2009. Oxford World's Classics. 560 pages.

Women have often been hardly used by men, but perhaps no harder usage, no fiercer cruelty was ever experienced by a woman than that which fell to the lot of Josephine Murray from the hands of Earl Lovel, to whom she was married in the parish church of Applethwaite,--a parish without a village, lying among the mountains of Cumberland, on the 1rst of June 181-. That her marriage was valid according to all the forms of the Church, if Lord Lovel were then capable of marrying, no one ever doubted; nor did the Earl ever allege that it was not so.

While I didn't love the cover, I did love the novel. (Doesn't it look like Lady Anna has a terrible pain in her side? Well, in a way, she does. The pain being her mother.) I almost don't know where to begin.

Did I like it? I loved it! I just LOVED it. Trollope did not disappoint.

Countess Lovel ("Josephine Murray") has spent decades in court trying to "prove" to the world that her marriage was valid. (That Earl Lovel did not have a living wife when the two were married in that small parish church). Also that her daughter, Anna, is legitimate. That being rightly the widow and daughter of the late Earl, they should not only receive their inheritance, but their titles as well. That Countess Lovel should legally be recognized as Countess. That Lady Anna be recognized as Lady. 

But fighting this legal battle is not cheap. And the Countess has not had the money to pay for it herself. When it comes down to it, if it hadn't been for the generosity of the Thwaite family--father and son--the two would not have lasted as long as they have. They have spent most of their lives depending on his money to survive. Daniel, the son, has grown up with Anna. And the two are extremely close. The best of friends. So it's only natural for these two to fall in love with one another, right? Why wouldn't Anna love her best friend, her defender, her provider?

As the legal case progresses, problems arise. That is in finding a compromise, a solution, the difficulty for our heroine arises. Everyone thinks it's a brilliant idea if Anna marries the Earl of Lovel--the young man who has inherited the title. She'll bring the money from the late Earl's estate if her inheritance is proven. He'll bring the title. It would be a perfect match--a flawless one at least on paper. But Anna's heart isn't in that match.

Her heart belongs to Daniel Thwaite, a common working man, a tailor, a Radical too. She has promised to be his wife. And for Anna there can be no breaking of that promise. First, she loves him truly. Second, she's a woman who keeps her word. And the truth is, Daniel wooed her when she had nothing. Daniel's actions match his words. He's proven his worth time and time again. He says what he means, and he means what he says. And this young Earl, well, he is handsome, it's true, and he says the right words--words that might prove tempting to just about any woman. But she knows that these words are at least in part prompted by her (forthcoming) wealth. He seems nice enough. But then again, he is on his best behavior. He's trying to impress her after all. The most Anna will admit is that if they'd met before she'd fallen in love with Daniel--then things might have gone differently.

This match outrages almost everyone. Lady Anna marry a tailor?! Well, that's unthinkable?! How could she--a fine Lady--marry anyone outside her class, her rank? There are many--including her mother--who will try to argue with Anna throughout the novel, will try to threaten her even, to get her to marry the "right" man. Will Anna give into the pressure? O

Display Comments Add a Comment

Framley Parsonage. Anthony Trollope. 1861. 576 pages.

First sentence: When young Mark Robarts was leaving college, his father might well declare that all men began to say all good things to him, and to extol his fortune in that he had a son blessed with so excellent a disposition. 


 Framley Parsonage is the fourth in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series by Anthony Trollope, one of my favorite bearded Victorians. The first three are The Warden, Barchester Towers, and Doctor Thorne. I wish I could say that I absolutely loved it. That Trollope didn't disappoint in any way. But. I can't quite say that. Not this time around. I enjoyed Framley Parsonage. I enjoyed visiting some of my favorite characters from previous novels--Mr. and Mrs. Proudie, Mr. and Mrs. Grantley, Lady Arabella, Miss Dunstable, Dr. Thorne, Mr. and Mrs. Gresham, etc. I enjoyed meeting Mark Robarts, his wife, Fanny, and his sister, Lucy. (Lucy was my favorite new character.) I found Lady Lufton to be quite a character. And her son, Lord Lufton, had his moments. There were some great scenes in this one. Some very dramatic. Some very romantic. Some very comedic. But despite how much I almost loved this one, it stayed an almost throughout. I did like it. I am glad I read it.

Mark Robarts should have known better. That's the truth. He should have NEVER signed his name to his friend's bill. For Mr. Sowerby is no friend of his. You would think that after watching his friend, Lord Lufton, be cheated out of money by Mr. Sowerby that he would have known better, would not have been so gullible, so foolish, so silly. But. Mark Robarts does not always make wise decisions. In fact, he can be very foolish. Good thing his wife and sister are so wise, so compassionate, so forgiving. I enjoyed spending time with Fanny and Lucy. I thought they were great characters. I spent most of the time wanting to scold Mark, however. (Though his transformation by the end into a man of character did help me like him better.)

When the novel wasn't talking about financial messes, it alternated between being political and romantic. It focused on several romances: that of Lucy, that of Griselda Grantley, and that of Miss Dunstable! These sections kept me reading. These sections kept me happy.

"It is no doubt very wrong to long after a naughty thing. But nevertheless we all do so. One may say that hankering after naughty things is the very essence of the evil into which we have been precipitated by Adam's fall. When we confess that we are all sinners, we confess that we all long after naughty things." (37)

"A man's own dinner is to himself so important that he cannot bring himself to believe that it is a matter utterly indifferent to every one else. A lady's collection of baby-clothes, in early years, and of house linen and curtain-fringes in later life, is so very interesting to her own eyes, that she cannot believe but what other people will rejoice to behold it." (123)

"A man always can do right, even though he has done wrong before. But t

2 Comments on Framley Parsonage, last added: 3/6/2011

Display Comments

Vamchoir said, on 3/5/2011 5:21:00 PM

Regarding the idea that we all "long after a naughty thing" I was seriously craving chocolate just before I read your post. Now I feel inspired to give into such longing. (Think I'll go see if I can find some.)

Kailana said, on 3/6/2011 8:42:00 AM

One day I need to read this author...

Add a Comment

The Small House at Allington. Anthony Trollope. 1864. 752 pages.

Of course there was a Great House at Allington. How otherwise should there have been a Small House? Our story will, as its name imports, have its closest relations with those who lived in the less dignified domicile of the two; but it will have close relations also with the more dignified, and it may be well that I should, in the first instance, say a few words as to the Great House and its owner. 

The Small House at Allington is the fifth in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series by Anthony Trollope, my favorite bearded Victorian. It follows The Warden, Barchester Towers, Doctor Thorne, and Framley Parsonage. Did I love it? Yes! I just LOVED it. After my less than enthusiastic reading of Framley Parsonage, I was needing this one to be incredible, and it was! From start to finish, it was love--true love.

The Dales are the stars of this one. We're primarily focused on the two Dale sisters, Lily and Bell, and the men who for better or worse fall in love with them, John Eames, Adolphus Crosbie, Bernard Dale (cousin), and Dr. Crofts. Bernard brings his new acquaintance, Adolphus Crosbie, home one autumn, which changes their lives forever. Soon he's declared himself truly, madly, deeply in love with the young practically penniless girl, Lily. She's his soul mate and nothing will keep them apart. But is he worthy of her love? her respect? Or is he good for nothing? John Eames is also in love with Lily. Though he's never professed it privately or publicly. His love for her is sure and steady. If only she would see him as more than a friend...

As for Bell, there are two men who would have her for a wife. Bernard, her cousin, who has only recently discovered that his feelings are so in line with his uncle's wishes. If she says yes, they'll inherit nicely. But despite the promise of monetary gain, I do believe that Bernard is sincere in his devotion to Bell. Her other would-be suitor is Dr. Crofts, Trollope spends less time (at least as far as I can remember) with him, but Bell, unlike readers, is able to know him much better...

I loved this one. I loved the characters, the storytelling, the writing. It was charming. It was satisfying. It was entertaining. It was just a great, great read! There were characters that I just loved and adored. And there were characters that I loved to hate!

If the question was ever asked plainly, Bernard Dale had asked it plainly. Shall we be man and wife? Few men, I fancy, dare to put it all at once in so abrupt a way, and yet I do not know that the English language affords any better terms for the question. (75)

'Don't you like the moon?' she said, as she took his arm, to which she was now so accustomed that she hardly thought of it as she took it.
'Like the moon--well; I fancy I like the sun better. I don't quite believe in moonlight. I think it does best to talk about when one wants to be sentimental.'
'Ah;

2 Comments on Small House At Allington, last added: 3/12/2011

Display Comments

Caroline (Bon Bons and Reveries) said, on 3/10/2011 6:43:00 PM

great review!!! I loved that long quote in the middle...I've never heard of this book, but I'm def. adding it to my TBR list....thanks :)

Tribute Books Mama said, on 3/11/2011 11:50:00 AM

Your great review makes me want to read this one, thanks!

Add a Comment

The Last Chronicle of Barset. Anthony Trollope. 1867.  928 pages. 

'I can never bring myself to believe it, John.' said Mary Walker, the pretty daughter of Mr. George Walker, attorney of Silverbridge. 

I love Anthony Trollope. I do. You know I do. So finishing The Last Chronicle of Barset was bittersweet for me. On the one hand, I loved it. It was such a great book. There are so many old friends to be found within it. So many characters that I've come to know and love through the first five books--The Warden, Barchester Towers, Doctor Thorne, Framley Parsonage. The Small House At Allington. And it was great to visit with them again. To reconnect with them. There were many new characters to love as well. So I loved it cover to cover. On the other hand, perhaps because it was so wonderful, it made it all the more difficult to say goodbye.

When Mr. Crawley, the curate of Hogglestock, is accused of stealing a cheque, everyone in Barsetshire begins to take sides. Some feel that he couldn't possibly have meant to steal the money, there has to be a valid excuse as to why his wife tried to spend another man's cheque to pay her bill. Others feel that he's guilty. What valid excuse could any man have for having another man's cheque in his possession? This Mr. Crawley may be a clergyman, but he also must be a thief. You might think that the church would stand by him. At least until he's been found guilty and punished by the courts. But the bishop and his wife, Mrs. Proudie, are his harshest critics. She is demanding (or should I say commanding) that he resign. She would call for his resignation because he looks guilty. Even if the courts were to clear him, I think she would want him gone. (Not that every clergyman agrees with the bishop and his wife. In fact, some lean more towards believing Crawley to be innocent because Mrs. Proudie is so sure of his guilt. And they wouldn't want to agree with her on any subject.)

Many people are upset by the Crawley's misfortune. Especially Grace Crawley, his beautiful daughter, and her suitor, Major Henry Grantley, the second son of Archdeacon Grantly. His father has been very firm in opposing this match. Yet Major Grantley can't turn his back on the woman he loves. And speak to her he must. If she'll agree to marry him, then he'll be truly happy. Of course, she is refusing to answer yes or no until her father's trial is over. If her father is found guilty, we're led to believe she would never ever consent to be his wife. (One of my favorite scenes in the entire novel is when Archdeacon Grantley goes to visit Grace Crawley. He approaches her full of anger and wrath, determined that he'll speak bluntly and forcefully with her. Yet by the end of the scene who has won the day?!) So I loved this romance, I did.

The other romance--of sorts--is Lily Dale and Johnny Eames, a non-couple we first met in Small House at Allington, he's still madly in love with his Lily. And she's still stubbornly refusing to even hear him speak of love and marriage. She will never, ever, ever, ever, ever marry. He's not convinced that his love is hopeless. And he's not alone in thinking that his romance is hopeless--there are so many supporters on his side, so many hoping that Lily will one day say yes. But who is more stubborn? Readers learn the answer to that in this fina

Display Comments Add a Comment

Anthony Trollope’s Palliser novels offer many fascinating parallels with today’s political scene, none more so than the fifth novel in the sequence, The Prime Minister.  Nicholas Shrimpton, of Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, will be editing the new edition of the novel for Oxford World’s Classics (out next year). His profile of Trollope’s fictional hero, Plantagenet Palliser, finds some uncanny resemblances between fiction and reality.

What sort of person do we want as our Prime Minister?

Anthony Trollope’s example, in his novel The Prime Minister (1875-6), is an introverted, socially awkward technocrat whose ideal job was as Chancellor of the Exchequer – where he spent his time happily, but indecisively, pondering the mathematical problems of  the introduction of decimal currency.

He takes over as premier from a more charismatic member of his own party, without a general election to confirm his mandate, and gets on badly with the cabinet ministers who are not members of his own small circle of friends and admirers. Much less good at PR than his talented wife, he is very quick to lose his temper: ‘I think, sir, that your proposition is the most unbecoming and the most impertinent that ever was addressed to me’ is his over-the-top response when the silly but harmless Major Pountney approaches him in search of a seat in parliament. With a high sense of his own dignity, and an inflexible belief in the correctness of his moral compass, he presides over three years of government in which not a single ‘large measure’ is carried. As his struggles to smile and be pleasant suggest, he doesn’t enjoy the role of Prime Minister in the least. But when it looks as though he will have to give it up, he can’t bear the thought of yielding authority to anybody else.

Does this, perhaps, remind you of somebody?

Add a Comment

He Knew He Was Right. Anthony Trollope. 1869/2009. Oxford University Press. 992 pages.

When Louis Trevelyan was twenty-four years old, he had all the world before him where to choose; and, among other things, he chose to go to the Mandarin Islands, and there fell in love with Emily Rowley, the daughter of Sir Marmaduke, the governor.

I love Anthony Trollope. You probably know that by now. Almost all of his novels have ended up on my "favorite and best" list. While He Knew He Was Right won't be topping that list, I did enjoy it. I enjoyed it in spite of Mr. and Mrs. Trevelyan.

One of the strengths of the novel is how it is peopled. So many characters. So many stories unfolding. Like a soap opera. You may not love all the plots and subplots. You may not love all the characters--love them equally I mean. But chances are you will find many you do like--perhaps even a few you'll love.

Louis Trevelyan loves his new wife, Emily, and is happier still when their son is born. But the happiness is not lasting for he becomes jealous of one of Emily's friends.

Emily Trevelyan can't understand why her husband has gotten this notion that she is "sinning" against him by having a few private conversations with her father's old friend, Colonel Osborne. Yes, he's her husband, but is it really necessary that he read every letter she receives and every letter she sends out?

Colonel Osborne is flattered to be the cause of a "little" argument between these newlyweds. He can't decide from one day to the next whether or not he's a "real" threat to their marriage or not. At times thinking that, yes, Emily would be the sort of woman he'd love to love. But, at other times, remembering quite clearly that she is much too young for him.

Nora Rowley, Emily's younger sister, can't understand--at least not at first--why this "little" argument has practically overnight become EVERYTHING. Emily's talking to her friends; Louis is talking to his friends. And everyone is taking sides. The good news? Most seem to think her husband's jealousy is unfounded. The bad news? He insists on a separation. It doesn't matter if he is the only one who thinks he has a just cause. He knows he is right.

Lady Milborough is one of the first friends Mr. Trevelyan consults. He values her opinion--at least at first. She is always ever pushing reconciling. Why should the couple fight over something so small? After all, Emily only needs to be shown the way. Unfortunately, her idea of "showing the way" to Emily doesn't work as planned. Still, she can't help wanting the best for this foolish couple.

Hugh Stanbury is another of Louis' friends. At first, he seems to be the unofficial messenger between this estranged husband and wife. It doesn't hurt that he's quite taken with Nora Rowley. But because of his lack of "profession", he hesitates declaring his feelings for her. (He's a journalist for London's Daily Record). He doesn't know it yet, but there's another suitor for Nora's attention. His romantic troubles only deepen when Nora's parents come to visit.

Mr. Glascock is a rich man soon to inherit a title. (Not that he doesn't wish his father well, mind you). He needs a good wife, is Nora the one? Or will she send him to Europe still in quest for 'the one'?

Mrs. Stanbury and Priscilla Stanbu

Display Comments Add a Comment