Everyone knows by now how much I love Anthony Trollope and after reading his Autobiography a couple of weeks ago, I love him even more. I have said in the past and will, no doubt, say it again that when you write an autobiography or your letters or diaries are published the character of the 
writer will come through. There is no hiding place. After reading some diaries and letters of certain people I have realised at the end of these books that I have no desire to meet the writer as I am pretty sure I would not like them. In others, I feel I could hang out with them over a cup of coffee and a Danish and we would all get on pretty well.
And so it is with AT's autobiography which had been sitting on my shelves for years. Sometimes a book can hang around for ages waiting for the time to be right for their perusal and this was the case a few weeks ago. I had got through shed loads of new books, some I loved, others I didn't (I kept quiet about those) and I found I could not take any more and turned to a favourite author. In this case AT and I picked up the autobiography, one of those tiny little Oxford World Classic books with a ribbon book mark. Oh how I loved reading this. Clear that Anthony's childhood had affected him – his mother, the redoubtable Fanny, took herself off to America to set up a Bazaar and to make their fortunes as her husband could not earn enough to look after the family. Anthony's brother Tom appears to be the favoured son and though Anthony has nothing but good to say of him, it is clear that this upset him very much. There was a spell when Anthony was left alone in London, working for a pittance, no friends and left in lodgings and became ill and his mother did not come near him. Tom ended up being her substitute husband when she was widowed as she needed somebody to 'walk me out' and they ended up living in Italy together, joined later by Tom's wife when he married.
No explanation is given for this favouritism but AT seems to try and find a reason for it saying that he knew he was an ungainly, large, rough sort of chap, and he suffered badly at school enduring mockery and bullying from his fellow students. This went on for years as his mother could not think what to do with him and so left him there until he was nineteen.
He eventually got a job in the Post Office and his entrance exam and what this working life was like can be seen in his book The Three Clerks. He led a pretty miserable existence for several years until he asked for and received a post in Ireland, at that time regarded as the Back of Beyond and off he went. He states that his happy life started from this date as part of his duties was to ride around his district checking up on the postal routes, organising deliveries and generally increasing the efficiency of the Post Office (we could do with him now I must say). It was in Ireland that he also met his wife.
By the time I finished reading this autobiography I felt that if Anthony was around now, I would like to go and give him a big hug as I found him a most lovable man. Aware of his shortcomings and faults but warm hearted and generous and with a profound admiration for women's capabilities as is witnessed in their portrayal in his novels.
I then turned to a simply magnificent biography by Victoria Glendinning which I had read several years ago but now decided to re-read in the light of my perusal of the Autobiography and, also, because I had read so many more Trollope's since my first read. Fascinating and very interesting to see how often FG used the autobiography as a source document and then expanded on the entries and her views on his reaction.
Both these wonderful books kept me totally engrossed over a period of four days when I barely spoke to anybody so intent was I on finishing them. For all Trollope lovers I thoroughly recommend both these books and if you don't end up loving Anthony I shall be most surprised.
"No novel is anything, for purposes either of comedy or tragedy, unless the reader can sympathise with the characters whose names he finds on the pages. Let an author so tell his tale as to touch his reader's heart and draw his tears and he has, so far, done his work well" (AT – Autobiography)
Dear Anthony, you have definitely done your work well…..
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