The Prime Minister by Anthony Trollope

I like Trollope, as he is easy to read and the stories rattle along. This dragged a little at times, because the political bits (the series of Palliser novels, named after the main characters, are also known as the ‘political novels’, because they are partly about British politics in the nineteenth century) are made slightly dull by the fact that they are not about real questions but pastiche ones, which can be read across to actual events, like Irish Home Rule, but which are simplified and acted out by characters with parodic names like ‘the Duke of St Bungay’.

The main human story concerns a girl who marries a baddie, who is disconcertingly described as foreign and Jewish, in ways which one wishes were ironic but probably reflect the prejudices of the time.

I will read the final book in the series, if only to complete the set. The characters that recur, like Plantagenet Palliser and his wife, Glencora, are memorable and I feel some affection for them. So I would like to see what happens next.

Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollope

This is the fourth in the series of Palliser novels, often referred to as the ‘political novels’, because they mainly concern upper class Liberal politicians, exemplified by Plantagenet Palliser himself, who in this book inherits the Dukedom of Omnium. The very names illustrate the playful, slightly whimsical way in which the writer approaches his story.

Trollope is easy to read. His style is very smooth and undemanding, so the story unfolds as easily as it does for the viewer of a TV series. There is a lot of discussion of fox hunting in the book, which is really an extended metaphor for the business of politics. There is a great scene where love and marriage are discussed entirely through the metaphor of fox hunting.

The protagonist of the book is Phineas Finn, an Irishman seeking, securing and then nearly losing his seat in the British Parliament. It is an engrossing read, if a little slow at times. And one does tire, a bit, of only reading about extremely wealthy people. But I look forward to the next in the series.

I read a Penguin edition, which didn’t have notes, and I missed them. The blurb on the back also gave away the entire plot, which rather ruined any element of surprise. I don’t know why they did that – perhaps they thought the only readers would be academics or people who knew the story already? More likely, it was just a cock up.

Daniel Deronda by George Eliot

A beautifully written book, richly allusive and very enjoyable, but slightly unsatisfying at its denouement.

I had been meaning to read this for quite a while but was spurred to do so by an acquaintance’s observation that I seem to read books, in the main, written by men. And what better female writer of English has there been than George Eliot?

I note in passing that the dialogue in this book between women felt much more convincing, to me at any rate, than in Eliot’s contemporaries like Dickens or Trollope. I might have imagined it; or perhaps it is too obvious to need stating.

She apparently said that she wanted to write a book where everything linked to everything else and she seems to have succeeded in that. I say ‘seems to’ because many of these connections seem, to me, likely only to emerge over several readings and a bit of study.

The title character acts as a connector himself, actually, between the 2 chief elements of the book – the story of the rather solipsistic and inexperienced Gwendolen Harleth and her discovery of the deeper aspects of human existence; and the discussion of Jewishness and its role in British Victorian society.

Some themes of the book echo strongly in the world of today: the thrall of money; the question of whether women can ‘have it all’, especially in relation to Deronda’s mother; the role of race and culture in our personalities; the suppression of self in the face of convention and social expectation; and the place of ancient religious faith in a rapidly changing world.

The novel attracted controversy when it was published because of its very sympathetic and enthusiastic description of Jews and the Jewish faith. This was a feature of the time, of course, as reading a bit of Trollope reminds us. Anti-Semitism was casual and ingrained. The focus on the separateness and difference of Jews feels outdated to many Britons of today. As someone who grew up as an unbelieving Catholic in an anonymous London suburb, Jews and Jewishness have always been pretty unexceptionable elements of a mixed social environment. But I might be more unusual than I think, I realise.

The conclusion of the novel felt a little rushed, with some important strands of the story being tied off as if they were loose ends. But the best thing about the book is the allusions, which come thick and fast and which benefit from some decent notes, which the Penguin edition provides.

It is a long book, with some sizeable set piece scenes, such as the discussion of Jewishness in the ‘Hand and Banner’, a pub in London. But it is worth the effort. A rewarding and thought-provoking book.

The Eustace Diamonds by Anthony Trollope

The third in the series of novels known as the Palliser Novels, as they recount the doings of the Palliser family and associated characters.

I really like Anthony Trollope’s style. He famously wrote avidly and steadily, putting in 2,500 words before breakfast. As he says in his autobiography:

“It was my practice to be at my table every morning at 5.30 A.M.; and it was also my practice to allow myself no mercy. An old groom, whose business it was to call me, and to whom I paid £5 a year extra for the duty, allowed himself no mercy. During all those years at Waltham Cross he was never once late with the coffee which it was his duty to bring me. I do not know that I ought not to feel that I owe more to him than to any one else for the success I have had. By beginning at that hour I could complete my literary work before I dressed for breakfast.”

This book, like the others in the series I have so far read (‘Can You Forgive Her?’ and ‘Phineas Finn’), is essentially about class, money and society in Victorian England. But the reason I enjoy his style so much is that it rattles along. He doesn’t really go in for lengthy descriptions but focuses on the characters and motivations of the people he writes about.

The plot concerns, unsurprisingly, some hugely valuable diamonds which form part of the estate of the Eustace family. They fall into the hands of a scheming and unscrupulous, but beautiful, woman, who marries Sir Florian Eustace just before he dies very young. There are sub plots, of course, and much humour in the writing. But the main theme, as I understood the book, is the damage that wealth can do to the happiness and contentment of those who crave it. Which is a theme as relevant today, in the age of instant gratification, as it was when Trollope wrote the book.

Phineas Finn by Anthony Trollope

The second in the series of political novels by Trollope, about the eponymous hero who enters Parliament as an Irish MP. Indeed, the subtitle is ‘The Irish Member’.

I really enjoyed it, though it does get a bit soap opera-ish with numerous love affairs to enjoy in parallel with description and exploration of the political issues of the nineteenth century. Finn’s success in London society and the compromises he has to make in order to sustain it are as relevant today as they were when Trollope wrote them.

He keeps up a fast pace in terms of narrative. In its way, a bit of a potboiler. Entertaining and diverting.