Back to the Classics Challenge 2019: The Way We Live Now

One of my favorite things about the Back to the Classics Challenge hosted by Karen at the blog Books and Chocolate is the indulgence of the excuse to read Dickens and Trollope, my two most loved Victorian era authors.  Accordingly, for the category “Very Long Classic”, I opted to read the doorstopper, The Way We Live Now which just happens to be Trollope’s longest of the 40-plus novels he wrote over his long career.

Now, of course, the title could be changed to “The Way They Lived Then” since Trollope meant the book to be a commentary on late 19th century upper-class society and their twin obsessions with status and money. But as with so many classics, there is plenty in the novel which still applies to our modern lives. 

But how to write a short review of such a long novel? That’s the challenge. The story is rich with a variety of subplots and intrigues, but the majority of them all revolve around one man: Auguste Melmotte.  Mr. Melmotte is a financier, a capitalist, a man who makes nothing himself but is able to use the money of others to make more money, chiefly for himself. His origins are murky, his past checkered. But as long as he appears to have the Midas-touch he is courted by the upper classes outwardly while behind his back they despise him. There is particular interest in Melmotte’s daughter, Marie, who is to be sacrificed to anyone with a title, provided the groom is willing to only have limited control over Marie’s dowry.

Marie, however, has other ideas about who she will marry. She is enamored of  Sir Felix Carbury, Baronet. Felix is a useless idiot who loves no one but would like a way out of his debts. His mother, Lady Carbury, is all for the match since Felix, though he is her favored child, is rapidly depleting her own finances which she supplements by writing terrible books. Lady Carbury’s daughter, Hetta, has no problem with her mother’s favoritism. She only wants to be free herself to marry young but poor Paul Montague. But her mother wants Hetta to marry her much older cousin, Roger Carbury, who has an estate outside of London. 

Paul Montague wants very much to marry Hetta if only his can get his finances in order, which are ultimately tied up with Melmotte and his dealings. But that’s not all. Roger Carbury is his closest friend and a father figure to him. Marrying Hetta may destroy that friendship. And, to complicate matters further, Paul is pursued by a certain Mrs.  Hurtle, an American widow to whom he was once (and may still be) engaged.

There is so much more in terms of plot and characters than this bare bones outline, like the snobbish Longstaffe family who are inextricably bound up in Melmotte’s financial machinations or Ruby Ruggles, a country girl who wants to throw over her bumpkin finance John Crumb in the forgone hope that Felix Carbury will marry her. Also there is a wonderful parallel plot about gambling at cards among the aristocrats which satirizes the kind of high finance perpetuated by people like Melmotte.

I really enjoyed The Way We Live Now. I didn’t find it quite as charming as some of his previous novels, however; mostly because I found it hard to really root for any of the characters. They were all frustrating, though some such as Lord Nidderdale, Marie Melmotte, Hetta Carbury, Mrs. Hurtle, etc. were less egregious in the errors of their ways than others. But I always found them interesting and I was invested in their fates.

THE SMALL HOUSE AT ALLINGTON by Anthony Trollope

The Small House at Allington is the fifth book in Anthony Trollope’s 6 book Barsetshire Chronicles series and it was my choice for the category “A classic which includes the name of a place in the title” in the 2016 Back to the Classic Challenge hosted by Karen on the blog Books and Chocolate. With its emphasis on making a “good” marriage and its loose plot surrounding two marriageable sisters who are upper class but impoverished, the book reminded me a tiny bit of Austen, but still written in Trollope’s particularly endearing, witty style.

The story begins with an introduction of the Squire of Allington, Mr. Christopher Dale, who lives in the Great House; rejected by his beloved many years before, Squire Dale has never married. In fact, this type of stubbornness is supposed to be a Dale family trait and it will echo throughout the novel; once a Dale makes up his or her mind, they never go back. The squire’s heir is his nephew Bernard Dale, a young officer in the Engineer corps. Mr. Dale also has two nieces Lillian Dale (Lily) and Isabelle Dale (Bell) who live with their widowed mother in the Small House, more or less upon the squire’s charity. Their mother pays no rent for the use of the house and garden and the squire has financially aided his nieces from time to time, basically allowing them to be raised as if they were part of the landed gentry, when in fact they are poor relations and would have a much lower social standing if they had had to rely only on their mother’s small income.

When Bernard brings his friend Adolphous Crosbie to visit at the Great House, romance ensues. During this visit, the squire informs Bernard of his wish that Bernard marry Bell. Meanwhile, Crosbie, who is very charming but also exceedingly ambitions, falls in love with Lily, though he erroneously assumes that the squire will settle money on her upon her marriage. However, Lily is also loved by neighbor John Eames, a young, somewhat awkward man, just beginning to make his way as a clerk at the Income Tax Office in London.  

For Trollope fanatics, there is also a small sub-plot involving Lady Dumbello (the former Griselda Grantley who was featured in the fourth book of the chronicles, Framely Parsonage), Mr. Plantagenet Palliser (who will figure in the the Palliser Novels I assume), and a lovely cameo by Mr. Harding of the first book in the series, The Warden.

In terms of the plot, I found that the book really represented a break from any previous Trollope novel I have read (which admittedly is not that many, just seven so far); I was so sure from the outset that I knew how it would end and I was so, so wrong. There is no neat bow tying up all the storylines by the last page, which is rare in my experience of Victorian romances in general.

In any case, I loved it. I particularly liked the portraits of Crosbie and John Eames, seeing where they paralleled and where they diverged; in fact I liked both characters a lot, even though they both behave very badly at times. And I also really enjoyed the Trollope take down of the aristocratic but morally bankrupt de Courcey family.

The Three Clerks

My second read for the Trollope bicentennial being celebrated at Books and Chocolate was The Three Clerks.  I just finished it yesterday, so just two days before the birthday bicentennial. Of the five books of his that I have now read, this is definitely my least favorite. Coming in at around 550 pages this is one of Trollope’s shorter (HA!) works.   The story revolves around three young gentlemen, all who work for the British Civil Service in London and their relationship to three young sisters who live a genteel, middle class life in Hampton, near London.

The two clerks who work for the office of Weights & Measures are Harry Norman who is hardworking and steady and Alaric Tudor who is very bright but exceedingly ambitious. The third clerk and cousin to Alaric is Charley Tudor who is genial, but lacks direction and discipline and who works for the Internal Navigation office, nicknamed “the Infernal Navigation” for its reputation of sloth and debauchery.  

Harry and Alaric are at first fast friends and as such, Harry introduces Alaric to his cousins, Gertrude, Linda and Katie and their widowed mother, the lovable but slightly lax Mrs. Woodward. However, when a possible promotion at the office puts Harry and Alaric in direct competition with each other, their friendship begins to fray and eventually it falls apart based on a perceived betrayal that Harry cannot forgive. As the story progresses, Alaric begins his meteoric rise in the world, which ascension is not without peril due to Alaric’s hunger for power and prestige at any cost. Meanwhile, Charley sinks further and further in to debt and dallies with a bar maid, all the while wishing he could be a better man, but not knowing how to quite pull that off.

 

I think what put me off slightly in this case is that the title should really be “two and  a half” clerks, since Harry is so upstanding and is consequently fairly dull; Trollope had nothing much to write about him. For me, it made the narrative uneven since the same weight is not given to each storyline. Also, up to now, I have always appreciated Trollope’s fairly well rounded female characters, but with the exception of perhaps Mrs. Woodward and maybe Gertrude near the end, I didn’t find the female personalities to be particularly noteworthy. Linda and Katie were very one note, although I suppose Katie’s actions and passions were not atypical for a teenager.  Lastly, I found the last names of most of the minor secondary characters (the lawyer, Mr. Geitemthruet or the money lender, Jabesh M’Ruen) too over the top. 

One thing I love about reading books written over 100 years ago is the feeling of déjà vu. You know, “Plus que ça change…” or the more things change, the more they remain the same.  In The Three Clerks there is a bit of a scandal about stock speculation based on a bridge intended to replace a perfectly serviceable ferry which never gets built. I totally though about the Gravina Island Bridge in Alaska, or the “Bridge to Nowhere” which was a bit of a catch phrase in the 2008 election year. There were lots of other similar observations about human behavior, politics, etc. that I made while reading, but that one really stuck out to me.

Unfortunately, the Penguin edition I read of The Three Clerks this time was not part of their classics series. So it was not annotated nor was there an introduction. I had to puzzle out the Latin quotations on my own, or just ignore them (usually the latter).  So instead I have used in illustration from one of the old-timey editions showing Linda and Alaric on a rather fateful walk.

He Knew He Was Right

April 24, 2015 will mark the bicentennial of Anthony Trollope’s birthday and Karen at Books and Chocolate is planning a celebration on her blog  http://karensbooksandchocolate.blogspot.com/  to encourage her readers to pick up as much Trollope as possible by then.  I had planned already to read the forth book in the Barsetshire Chronicles this year as part of Karen’s Back to the Classics 2015 challenge, so I could have doubled up, but I felt that instead I should take this opportunity to read one of his stand-alone novels instead.

I ultimately decided on one of Trollope’s better known titles, He Knew He Was Right.  Louis and Emily Trevelyan are a young, wealthy couple with a small son. Despite the fact that both are fairly headstrong personalities, they happily married until a certain Colonel Osborn starts to give Emily rather more attention than a friend of the family who is old enough to be her father should in polite society. Emily isn’t too fussed since she is secure in her knowledge that she has not and never will stray from what is considered proper. However, Louis is bothered by Colonel Osborn’s attentions and what the whisperings of society gossips might think. Emily willfully misunderstands her husband’s fears as an accusation that she has behaved immorally. Louis willfully refuses to compromise or discuss the matter with his wife reasonably and insists that it is his right as a husband (this is the Victorian Era don’t forget) that Emily cease all contact with the Colonel. And from that misunderstanding and stubborn refusal their relationship begins to unravel.

 At first I was worried that this novel would be 800 pages of a back and forth argument between a jealous husband and a headstrong wife, however, there are several other side characters with parallel story lines, almost all to do with marriage and courtship. These parallel narratives help break up the intensity of Emily and Louis’ disintegrating marriage and temper the tragic main plot with humor and romantic sub-plots. There are really too many supporting characters to mention, but probably the main ones are the Stanbury family. Hugh Stanbury is a friend of Louis who has given up all respectability by deigning to earn a living writing for a penny newspaper and who is in love with Emily’s sister Nora Rowley. Then there are Hugh’s unmarried sisters, Pricilla and Dorothy Stanbury who live with their widowed mother. And most amusingly, in my opinion, there is Miss Jemina Stanbury, Hugh’s maiden aunt who Dorothy goes to live with. Once I encountered Miss Stanbury, about 50 pages in, I knew this book would become a favorite. I just loved her as a character. She is petty, willful and obstinate, but can also be generous and kind when she wants to be. I thought she was a hoot.

He Knew He Was Right has fairly overt feminist undercurrents which touch on the absurdity and double-sided unfairness of Victorian upper/middle class society in its treatment of women. For many women, marriage was their only option for a secure future and but under the law, they had almost no rights within the marriage. So a bad marriage could be very, very bad for the wife, with little recourse for her to better her situations. And as so many have noted before me, Trollope’s female characters are so much more three dimensional than those in Dickens’ novels, which is always appreciated by me.  So, over all a really enjoyable and page turning read, in particular all the scenes in Essex, where Miss Stanbury lives. I always say I hate romance, but I sure loved this book which was virtually nothing but romance.  Go figure!

The image above is from the Penguin Classics paperback edition of this title that I read which is one of my favorite publishers for classics because the editions are annotated and contain an introduction (which I always read after I have finished the book for fear of spoilers, naturally).

Anthony Trollope Bicentennial Celebration in April at Books & Chocolate

 

So much of what I read and/or hear about in the book world is focused on the new; the latest title or author. And it can be rewarding and fun to read the buzzed about book and know what everyone is talking about.  But it is equally rewarding to “discover” older books which have stood the test of time. In particular, I find I have an affinity with Victorian novels.  I had read The Moonstone and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins back in college and really enjoyed both books, but for some reason I had the idea that Dickens would be “too difficult” (he’s not).  And Trollope? Frankly, I had never even heard of him, which is just nuts, because Anthony Trollope wrote over 45 novels, plus short stories, plays and non-fiction.

 

Karen at Books and Chocolate is hosting a Bicentennial Celebration in honor of Anthony Trollope in April  Anthony Trollope Bicentennial and I hope to take part and read and review at least one title. I have already read the first three books in the Barshetshire Chronicles but I thought for this particular event, I would try one of his stand-alone books. I have acquired copies of The Way We Live Now, He Knew He Was Right and The Three Clerks. It would be too ambitious of me to think I could get to all three by April…but maybe two? We’ll see.