Tag Archives: book-reviews

Trollope’s Phineas Finn: Victorian Political Drama

Phineas Finn is the second Anthony Trollope novel I’ve read (you can read my review of Can You Forgive Her? here), and the second in his Palliser series. In this novel, our hero, Phineas Finn, is a good natured, very attractive, and upstanding young man who is the son of an Irish country doctor. His father has paid his expenses while he studies under Mr. Low, a London barrister (lawyer). While dining at his club, young Finn is approached by his friend, Barrington Erle, and convinced to run for a seat in parliament for the borough of Loughshane. It’s a dead certainty he will win it, since there will be no serious opposition. The only problem is that members of parliament (MPs) do not get paid, and Phineas is entirely dependent on his father for his expenses!

Despite his father’s and Mr. Low’s very good arguments against running, Phineas decides to do it, and before he knows it, he is seated in Parliament. His longsuffering father agrees to continue his allowance until he can somehow figure out a way to pay his own way. Soon, he is swimming in the high society of London, but he manages to keep his head and remain humble. He becomes friends with another Irish MP, Laurence Fitzgibbon, a glib and somewhat dissolute young man who wastes no time convinces Finn to guarantee a bill for 250 pounds, assuring him that he will have the money in a couple of weeks, and there is nothing to worry about.

He also is befriended by Lady Laura Standish, who takes Phineas under her wing, because she sees such promise in him. She is another character of Trollope’s who illustrates the frustrating position upper class women in Victorian England were in: she is smart and well educated, and she has good ideas about what legislation should be passed by Parliament, but there is no way she can bring them to fruition, given she has no vote, let alone no way to run for parliament. Phineas is convinced he’s in love with Lady Laura and proposes to her, but she turns him down, because he is penniless, and she has given all of her money to her brother, Lord Chiltern, so he can settle some enormous debts he’s acquired through questionable life choices.

Lord Chiltern is a bit of a wild man – he despises social conventions and proper manners, preferring to spend his time hunting and traveling around England and Europe. He is in love with the beautiful Violet Effingham, who stands to inherit a large fortune when she marries. He has proposed to her three times (not very tactfully, it must be said), and she has flatly refused him because of his poor reputation and erratic behavior. To make things worse, Chiltern’s father has had nothing to do with him since his sister squandered her share of the family fortune to settle his obligations.

Lady Laura convinces Phineas to befriend Chiltern, in the hopes that he will be a moderating influence on him. They become friends, until Phineas meets Violet and decides he wants to marry her! The good friends become deadly rivals.

As a backdrop to all of this drama, Trollope chronicles all of the political intrigue involved in the passage of the Reform Bill of 1866. The reader is shown in exhausting detail how parliament works, and, by and large, it’s not pretty. What is interesting is how Finn, as a tyro MP, gradually gains confidence. At first, he is too terrified to even stand up and make a speech. Eventually, he finds his legs, and he becomes a trusted member of the Liberal party, led by the Prime Minister William Mildmay. Finn’s greatest asset is his ability to keep his mouth shut when necessary and to make pleasant conversation with the right people. Very soon, he is elevated to a paying position in the cabinet. Regardless of his rapid rise in society, he remains a very likeable character, due to his total lack of vanity.

As the novel progresses, Trollope uses various characters to illustrate different issues that were present in Victorian England. Phineas is an ambitious, yet talented and altruistic, young man from whose presence parliament would benefit, yet it is nearly impossible from him to affect legislation, even when he is made a government minister. The crisis of the novel occurs when he has to decide whether he will support a bill that will help his fellow Irish but goes against the policy of the governing party, of which he is a member. If he votes according to his conscience, he will be required to submit his resignation and lose his salary.

Lady Laura is the most tragic figure. Moments before Phineas proposes to her, she accepts Robert Kennedy’s offer of marriage. He is another MP, and one of the richest men in the UK. She feels that through him, she might be able to influence English politics. Unfortunately, Mr. Kennedy is an insufferable prig who insists Laura submit herself to the proper duties of a wife and have no independence at all. Their marriage degenerates to the point where they can barely communicate.

“Laura”, he said, “I am sorry that I contradicted you.”

“I am quite used to it, Robert.”

“No; – you are not used to it.” She smiled and lowered her head.
(ii, p. 109, Oxford Univ. Press Ed., 1991)

There is also a Madame Marie Goesler, a wealthy German widow, who moves in the highest circles of London society, but feels trapped by the fact that she can do nothing but attend parties and host them herself.

Phineas becomes very good friends with Joshua Monk, a “radical” MP who helps Phineas get his confidence during his first term in parliament. Mr. Monk, though, when he is offered and accepts a post in the government by the Liberals, loses his effectiveness as a debater, because he is forced to support the Liberals’ policies, even when he disagrees with them.

Trollope paints a fascinating and detailed picture of how politics worked in Victorian England. There was much frustration at the demands placed upon MPS to toe the party line, yet enforcing party discipline was the only way to get important legislation passed. Like today, opposing parties had to compromise, and everyone gave up something to get something in return. Near the end of the book, Monk’s and Finn’s bill to help Irish tenants fails on the second reading. Finn is dejected, but Monk makes this observation:

“Many who before regarded legislation on the subject as chimerical, will now fancy that it is only dangerous, or perhaps not more than difficult. And so in time it will come to be looked on as among the things possible, then among the things probable; – and so at last it will be ranged on the list of those few measures which the country requires as being absolutely needed. That is the way in which public opinion is made.”
(ii, p. 341)

Like almost all Victorian novels, Phineas Finn is long – 712 pages in the edition I read. However, it is an interesting complement to Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield, another tale of a self-made young man. While Dickens was the master of chronicling the travails and triumphs of England’s lower and middle classes, Trollope gives us accurate portraits of what it was like to move in the highest social strata of Victorian society. He isn’t afraid to point out the contradictions and injustices of the governing class, yet all of his characters are real. Phineas Finn is amazingly successful at first, but he has his flaws. His fellow MPs all exhibit human foibles – they each have good qualities as well as lesser ones. However, it’s the female characters that are the most fleshed out by Trollope – he has sincere sympathy for the plight they are in. They have very limited choices: either marry or be an “old maid”, but in neither case can a woman be an active political force. And once a young woman marries, she has no rights to any property or personal agency. If a young woman is due to inherit wealth, there is no guarantee she will be allowed to use it to live independently. However, lest one think Phineas Finn is all angst and frustration, Trollope sprinkles a lot of humor to leaven the drama. At heart, he loves his country and its people.

There are lots of free digital versions of Phineas Finn (you can download a nicely formatted one here.), but I really appreciated my Oxford University Press edition, because it had lots of helpful notes that explained the political events that were occurring at the time the novel is set in, as well as the meanings of slang phrases, references to other literary works, etc. I’ve read two of the six Palliser novels, so I guess I’d better get ready to tackle Phineas Redux next!

Trollope’s Can You Forgive Her? Another Victorian Classic

Ever since I read Charles Dickens’ first novel, The Pickwick Papers, I have been a fan of Victorian literature. Anthony Trollope was a contemporary of Dickens, and an incredibly prolific writer. Can You Forgive Her? is the first novel in his Palliser series. It begins with the dilemma facing Alice Vavasor: “What should a woman do with her life?” For an upper-class woman in Victorian England, the options were limited to marrying or living with relatives the rest of your life.

Alice is engaged to a man everyone (including her) acknowledges is a perfect catch. John Grey has a substantial estate in Cambridgeshire, he is definitely in love with her, he is intelligent, handsome, and doting. Yet, Alice looks upon a future with him with apprehension – she only sees herself trapped in a boring country estate with no intellectual or social stimulation. As she explains to her aunt McLeod,

People always do seem to think it so terrible that a girl should have her own way in anything. She mustn’t like any one at first; and then, when she does like some one, she must marry him directly she’s bidden. I haven’t much of my own way at present; but you see, when I’m married I shan’t have it at all.

ANTHONY TROLLOPE. Can You Forgive Her? (Kindle Locations 564-566). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

It doesn’t help that she previously was in love with her cousin, George Vavasor, who cheated on her. He fancies himself a bohemian who is above such mundane institutions as marriage, and he and his sister, Kate, waste no time convincing Alice to break off her engagement with Grey.

Alice convinces herself she is unworthy of being John Grey’s wife, but to her consternation, he refuses to accept her rejection of him and insists she is still betrothed to him. He isn’t ugly or forceful in any way, he is simply confident that, given time, she will come to her senses and return to him.

Kate Vavasor is also unmarried, and she has an extended visit with her aunt, Arabella Greenow. Mrs. Greenow has recently lost her fabulously wealthy older husband, and Trollope’s account of how she flirts with two men – the boring but well-off farmer Mr. Cheesacre and the dashing but penniless Mr. Bellfield – while observing the proper mourning rituals is hilarious.

Yet another cousin of Alice, Lady Glencora Palliser, invites Alice up to her estate to spend a few weeks. Lady Glencora is very rich, very young, and recently married to Plantagenet Palliser, a very dull man who greatest ambition is to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. She once loved a dissolute young man, Burgo Fitzgerald, but her family intervened and made her marry the much more suitable Palliser. He doesn’t give her much attention, and she is fairly miserable.

Burgo is friends with George Vavasor, and he hopes to elope with Glencora to Italy. George doesn’t encourage him to do this, but he doesn’t discourage him, either. George is basically amoral, and he pursues whatever path will give him the most pleasure. He breaks up Alice and John Grey’s engagement, because he gets a kick out of it, not because he is in love with Alice. So the stage is set for all kinds of social intrigue and shenanigans; in other words, a perfect setting for a Victorian novel!

This is the first novel by Trollope I’ve read, and I’m impressed. He is very different from Dickens, though. Where it was always clear from his works that Dickens had a heart for the poor and downtrodden in Victorian England, Trollope obviously moved in a higher social setting. He chronicles the issues and conflicts facing the British governing class in the mid-nineteenth century.

Can You Forgive Her? is primarily concerned with the limited options available to upper class women of that time. Alice is principled (to a fault) and wants to make a difference in English society. Her only option, since she can’t vote – let alone run for Parliament – is to ally herself to someone who can run for office. That is a major reason why she breaks off her engagement to John Grey; he is quite happy to live a quiet and prosperous life in Cambridgeshire, taking no interest at all in politics.

Lady Glencora is forced into a marriage with the up and coming Plantagenet Palliser, and even though it is her fortune that makes possible his political career, she has no interest. She is the most interesting character in the novel. She yearns to be free of stuffy Victorian conventions, and she delights in tweaking her poor husband’s sensibilities. She’s never in danger of getting into any scandal, but she is very funny whenever she decides to do what she wants.

More serious is George Vavasor. Initially, he is a somewhat sympathetic character, in that he wants his former love, Alice, to renew their relationship. He is very clever in the ways he manipulates her and his sister, Kate, to get what he wants. As the novel progresses, he becomes more and more trapped in a downward spiral of greed, deceit, and fury. By the end of the book, he is truly evil.

Plantagenet undergoes character growth in a positive way, learning how to be a good husband to Lady Glencora restoring proper perspective to his life. He and Cora will return in later Palliser novels, and I look forward to seeing their marriage mature.

Aunt Greenow also develops into a worthy character. At first, she is comical in her flirtations with Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield, but when her niece Kate needs her, she is there with excellent advice and moral support.

The main negative of the novel is the indecision of Alice when it comes to accepting John Grey’s standing offer to resume their engagement. She drags her feet for increasingly poor reasons, and it gets tiresome to read of her inner struggles when there really isn’t much reason for them. However, as a portrait of upper class Victorian England, Can You Forgive Her? is a detailed and fascinating glimpse into a long gone era. I will definitely read the next novel in the series, Phineas Finn.

Charles Williams’ All Hallows Eve – Stranger Things Meets Rosemary’s Baby

The First Edition

All Hallows Eve is Charles Williams’ seventh novel, and one of his best. In 2024, I began working my way through all of the novels of this member of The Inklings, the famous literary group of friends that included J. R. R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Williams’ fiction is definitely darker and more philosophical than the writings of either of the his more well known colleagues.

All Hallows Eve begins with a startling scene: a young woman, Lester Furnival, is standing on a street in nighttime London, and there are none of the usual sounds and traffic around her. She soon realizes that she is dead. She and a friend, Evelyn Mercer, were supposed to meet each other for a get-together, but they were killed by a plane crashing into the area. It appears that Lester and Evelyn are in some sort of purgatory – they can interact with each other, but they do not perceive any other beings. The only way they know it’s night is when the lights come on in the houses around them. There is no sun or moon, just a diffuse, gray light.

Back in the land of the living, Lester’s grieving husband, Richard, visits his artist friend, Jonathan Drayton. Drayton is a talented painter who shows Richard his latest work: a painting of a charismatic religious leader who goes by the moniker Simon the Clerk, or Simon Leclerc. It has been commissioned by Lady Wallingford, a devoted disciple of Simon. Jonathan Drayton is in love with her daughter Betty, but she will not allow them to get engaged.

Lady Wallingford drops by to view the painting, and she is extremely disappointed. In her eyes, Simon looks malevolent, and the people in the congregation look like insects. Later, Simon himself visits Drayton to view the painting, and he proclaims it a masterpiece that captures him perfectly.

What follows is a very dark tale of necromancy and all-consuming greed for power. Simon was conceived and born during the French revolution, and he has plans for world domination that involve breaking through to the spiritual plane where Lester and Evelyn are. Lady Wallingford’s daughter, Betty, is the hinge through which this will happen. Things get very creepy as the story unfolds – I was put in mind of Rosemary’s Baby as the pieces fell into place.

As a favor to Jonathan, Richard Furnival agrees to attend a meeting of Simon’s followers, and see if he is legitimate. Simon uses some sort of spell to put everyone under his will. At the end of the meeting, Simon speaks to Richard, and Richard recounts their disturbing conversation to Jonathan:

“He [Simon] said: ‘I won’t keep you, Mr. Furnival. Come back presently. When you want me, I shall be ready. If you want your wife, I can bring her to you; if you don’t want her, I can keep her away from you. Tell your friend I shall send for him soon. Good-bye.” So then I walked out.

He lifted his eyes and looked at Jonathan, who couldn’t think of anything to say. Presently Richard went on, still more quietly: “And suppose he can?”

“Can what?” asked Jonathan gloomily.

“Can,” said Richard carefully and explicitly, “do something to Lester. Leave off thinking of Betty for a moment; Betty’s alive. Lester’s dead, and suppose this man can do something to dead people?

CHARLES WILLIAMS. All Hallows’ Eve (Kindle Locations 1850-1855). Delphi Classics. Kindle Edition.

As the story unfolds, there is a contrast between the characters who grow and mature, and the ones who degenerate. Betty, who is initially a slave to Simon’s will, gradually comes into her own and is able to resist him. Lester also matures spiritually as she learns to navigate the purgatory she is in. Both she and Richard remember their brief marriage, regret the mistakes they made, and come to a much deeper love than they had when she was alive. Even Jonathan’s art takes on a life of its own, becoming more transcendent.

On the other side, Lady Wallingford becomes less and less of an individual with actual agency, Evelyn undergoes a horrific degeneration into petty hatred, and Simon Leclerc reaps the rewards of his dark magic.

All Hallows Eve is one of Williams’ most accessible reads, as well. In a few of his earlier novels, particularly Descent Into Hell, his prose was very dense and unwieldy, and his dialog hard to follow. Every conversation in All Hallows Eve is terse and to the point. I thoroughly enjoyed this novel, even though it creeped me out at times. I wonder if the creators of Netflix’s Stranger Things are familiar with it, since there are definite similarities in the basic premise of both tales. Anyway, for fans of fantasy with a very dark edge (but a happy ending), I highly recommend All Hallow Eve.

Raphael and the Noble Task: A Modern Christmas Classic

Raphael

In 2000, when our daughters were 10 and 6, I saw a list of new Christmas-themed books that included Catherine Salton’s Raphael and the Noble Task. I found it at the local bookstore and was immediately taken with David Weitzman’s beautiful illustrations. I read it aloud to the family, and we all enjoyed it very much. Even though it’s technically a children’s book, it will appeal to readers of all ages, much like C. S. Lewis’ Narnia series.

Raphael and Alchemist
Raphael speaks with The Alchemist, another of his cathedral’s statues

I decided advent 2024 was as good a time as any to revisit this charming tale of a Gothic cathedral’s chimère (French for a statue of a chimera) named Raphael and his quest to find a Noble Task to justify his existence. Raphael is a griffin, placed above the cathedral’s main entrance. He has a lion’s body and legs, eagle’s wings, and the head and neck of a dragon. He is bored and lonely, and he visits the statue of an alchemist who refers to an older cathedral guardian named Parsifal who is no longer around. It is the alchemist who plants the idea of a noble task in Raphael’s head.

Once Raphael decides he needs to perform a noble task, he decides to ask other members of the cathedral statuary what he should do. He first goes to a couple of tomb effigies of a knight and his wife, but they’re so busy bickering they can’t help him. Next, he approaches a gargoyle who is near his niche, but, like all gargoyles, this one – named Madra-Dubh (Black Dog) – is very rude and condescending:

Raphael steeled his resolve. “You see, I’m trying to find something, and I think you might know where it is,” he said as quickly as possible.

“Oooh, and it’s trying to find something,” crowed Madra-Dubh as the others cackled gleefully. “Not good enough for the fawning idle-headed dewberry to sit in its donkey-spotted behind and do its right job, mark me! Nooo, it’s got to go thumping about pestering the working folk with foolish don’t-you-knows. Go drop some feathers, ye molting chicken-witted dragglebeak, and leave us in peace, then.” (pages 21 – 22)

Raphael eventually finds the scriptorium (library), and even though he can’t read, he sees an illustration in an illuminated manuscript. It depicts a knight in silver armor slaying a dragon. Because Raphael resembles the dragon, he begins to doubt his own integrity and wonder if he is actually evil. At this point in the story, there is beautiful scene set in a side chapel where Raphael, tortured by gnawing self-doubt, encounters a statue of Mary with her child Jesus, and he is immediately set at peace.

A young woman with a gentle expression gazed out at him from the darkness. Her plain blue gown fell in folds to her bare feet, and her hair was unbound, spreading over her shoulders in rippling veil. In her arms she cradled a baby, who reached up with one small hand to touch her face in a gesture of cam devotion. As Raphael stood wondering, his head cocked to one side, he felt as if his hurt and disappointment were being softly lifted away. For the young woman seemed to speak to him in a manner he did not fully understand; she did not move, nor did she actually say a word, but all the same, she told Raphael a long and beautiful story. In the icy darkness of that chapel, she spoke gently to Raphael alone. She spoke of joy in good times, and patience in hard, and of hope even in the bleakest hours of all. (page 41)

Once he has returned to his niche over the main portal, though, his self-doubt returns. And then one day, he sees a young woman in desperate straits hurry up the steps to leave her baby in the “foundling” box – a place for babies whose parents can’t feed them or care for them. In a flash Raphael has found his noble task!

What follows is great fun, as various communities in the cathedral all work together to help Raphael take care of his new charge. The gargoyles, the churchmice, and the pigeons all manage to put aside their differences and learn to cooperate.

Of course, the situation cannot last forever, and Raphael is faced with a terrible choice: his true noble task. Salton does a terrific job of weaving together the lives of the monks and other inhabitants of the village with the clandestine doings of the cathedral statuary, armies of mice, and flocks of pigeons. The whole tale is a marvelous allegory of how, despite the best of human (and chimère) intentions, without a little Divine intervention things would rapidly turn into tragedy. However, as Salton quotes Julian of Norwich at the very beginning of the book, “All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

Raphael and the Noble Task is a wonderful book for families to read aloud at Christmastime. It’s relatively short: 157 pages, and as I mentioned before, David Weitzman’s illustrations are fantastic. It deserves a place alongside other Christmas classics like Dickens’ A Christmas Carol  and O’Henry’s The Gift of the Magi.

Turgenev’s Fathers and Children: The Eternal Generation Gap

Turgenev

Continuing my exploration of classic Russian literature (you can read my review of Tolstoy’s War and Peace here), I decided to check out Ivan Turgenenv’s Fathers and Children (also known as Fathers and Sons). A couple of years ago, I read Joseph Frank’s biography of my favorite Russian author, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and, according to Frank, Dostoyevsky was friends with Turgenev and had spoken well of Fathers and Sons.

The novel opens with middle-aged widower Nikoloai Petrovitch Kirsanov anxiously awaiting the arrival of his son, Arkady, who has graduated from the university in Petersburg. When Arkady finally arrives at the depot, he introduces a new friend of his, Yevgeny Vassilyitch Bazarov, whom he has invited to stay at their estate.

As their carriages arrive at the Kirsanov estate, it’s clear things are not doing well. Turgenev paints a picture of poverty and decay – emaciated cows, serfs driving pell-mell to gin bars, decrepit and dilapidated buildings. At the house, they are greeted by Nikolai’s brother, Pavel Petrovitch, who is a bit of an aristocratic dandy. He is glad to see Arkady, but Bazarov immediately rubs him the wrong way. The next morning, Pavel Petrovitch is not pleased to learn that Bazarov is a “nihilist”.

To continue reading, click here.