RANDOM JOTTINGS

I find this time of year when the nights draw in and the curtains closed always brings out the Trollope in me and I find it absolutely necessary to read one of the lovely Anthony's books.  A few days ago I picked up The Betrams which I have never read and decided to give it a whirl.  

At first I found it hard going.  Anthony tends to ramble on about moral issues at some length and I feel that the story is somewhat padded out by the long descriptions of George Bertram's journeying around the Middle East and his visits to Jerusalem and Damascus.  True, he meets the woman he loves on these journeys but it could have been anywhere and as AT had recently returned from a tour of the Near East he obviously decided to use this as his background.

George Bertram has come down from Oxford with a double first and great things are expected of him.  His close friend Arthur, always overshadowed by him, failed and left with only a second class degree and ends up taking over the living of his father who dies shortly after this event.   He strongly feels the difference in his own prospects to those of George, but has little choice in the way his life is shaped.  George, however, has the world at his feet but wavers and has no real idea what to do with himself. Another Oxford star, Harcourt, tries to persuade him to join him at the Bar but he has still not come to a decision when he sets off to Egypt to meet up with his rather improvident, scapegrace father who he has not seen for many years, the cost of his upbringing and his education falling upon his uncle, a miserly millionaire who lives in seclusion in the country.

On this journey he meets Caroline Waddington and he falls in love and proposes. She is not so sure, but back in England she accepts him.   She is the ward of his uncle and the match is approved but no money is forthcoming and George sets out to work hard to generate an income so they can be married.   While he is eager to marry, she would prefer to wait some three years until he has enough money for them to live on and, despite his protestations, will not give in.  The years pass and George becomes more and more discouraged by her intransigence and, as one would expect, decides that he may as well enjoy himself a little and gradually his studies drift away.  His friend Harcourt, who has decided he rather wants Caroline himself, causes a rift between them and the engagement is broken off.

Here we have the same parallel in Can you Forgive Her? the first of the Palliser novels in which Alice Vavasour breaks off her engagement to her eminently suitable and rather nice fiance, John Gray, because she hankers after her scapegrace of a cousin.  As soon as she throws in her lot with him she then realises that she loves her fiance after all and spends the rest of the novel mooning over him and being rather disagreeable to her cousin who, after all, had a right to believe that she loved him.

Caroline Waddington does exactly the same thing and regrets it immediately:

"She had often said to herself that she repented of the engagement. If so, now was the time to congratulate herself that she was free from it………..she now discovered, for the first time, that she had a strong beating heart, and that she loved this capricious man with every strong pulse of it.  And now that she has lost her lover, she confessed to herself that she did love him. How could she recover from him?"

So what does she do?  Three months later she marries Harcourt making it clear to him that all passion between them will be as nothing but she will be a good wife.  Though Harcourt is ambitious and conceited and has treated his friend badly, one can hardly help but feel sorry for him being married to such a cold woman who rapidly begins to despise and hate him and leaves him within six months.

In the foreword to my edition of The Bertrams it is said that this novel has many flaws and was never regarded as one of Trollope's best.  When he runs out of steam, he calls on his traveller's diary a great deal too heavily and I found myself skipping over several of these sections.  Not many critics had a good word to say about it and the main complaint is that its main themes and story lines "are submerged for long periods in gloomy and slackly written attacks on contemporary moral issues",

Be that as it may, but as with Trollope I find all these criticisms are as nothing as I become more and more immersed in each book I read and I always, but always find myself sitting up till the early hours of the morning trying to keep my eyes open because I so want to find out what happens.

There is plenty of tension in The Bertrams – one of the main story lines being who will inherit the millionaire uncle's money? We are rooting for George all the way but he will do no sucking up, no grovelling to his uncle in order to curry favour and I find this one of his best attributes, though others think he is foolish to behave in this way.   Despite his weaknesses, he remains true to Caroline and loves her dearly, is treated badly by her and Harcourt and yet struggles to remain on good terms with them both and not become bitter.   I found by the end of the story I had become hugely fond of him and my dislike of Caroline also increased.   She was unhappy herself, through her own stubborn behavior and character, and made George miserable and, ultimately, was the ruin of her unloved husband whose end was shocking and undeserved.  As with Alice Vavasour, I felt I wanted to shake her and tell her to Get a Grip.

I don't care that this is not one of Anthony's most successful books and rather dismissed by the critics, I could not put it down and, once again, am trying to find the words to explain why I love this author so much and why I love his books so much.  I simply cannot explain it and if another Trollopian out there can come up with the answer please do let me know.

I have now picked up The Prime Minister which I have not read for several years and my apologies to all the publishers of the books awaiting my attention, but for the next few days I know what I will be doing.   When the Inner Trollope sings its siren song, it cannot be ignored…..