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THE AMERICAN SENATOR by Anthony Trollope
Sep. 6th, 2013 09:56 pmLink
The novel begins with a rather tedious enumeration of family backgrounds in the local town; it feels quite some time before the pace begins to be lifted.
There's some American bullishness, smug self-satisfaction, and dismissal of the old country in the culture clash; on the other hand, there's American practicality set against foolish British habits. For those who appreciate balance, it is quite balanced!
There's one or a few of Trollope's standard love triangles, which seem to echo ground covered in other books such as THE WAY WE LIVE NOW and THE BELTON ESTATE. A high point is probably the depiction of the antiheroine Arabella Trefoil and the great amount of detail spent on what she must do in pursuit of a wealthy husband. There's an air of verisimiltude and sympathy; she has little power to exist in the world otherwise and acts out of what seems necessity. Arabella's character development also becomes of interest as the novel finally gets into its stride.
If for no other reason, I am glad that I read this novel because of the following passage alone. It takes place after the young lady Mary Masters has refused a suitor she does not love by post and her stepmother seeks to reclaim the letter.
[F]irst she [Mrs. Masters] made a futile attempt to clutch the letter from the guardianship of the Post Office, and she went to the Postmaster assuring him that there had been a mistake in the family, that a wrong letter had been put into a wrong envelope, and begging that the letter addressed to Mr. Twentyman might be given back to her. The Postmaster, half vacillating in his desire to oblige a neighbour, produced the letter and Mrs. Masters put out her hand to grasp it; but the servant of the public,—who had been thoroughly grounded in his duties by one of those trusty guardians of our correspondence who inspect and survey our provincial post offices,—remembered himself at the last moment and expressing the violence of his regret, replaced the letter in the box. Mrs. Masters, in her anger and grief, condescended to say very hard things to her neighbour;—but the man remembered his duty and was firm.
It's beautiful to think that Anthony Trollope was a damn good postmaster himself in his time. I love this self-indulgent digression about the duties of the post office! (And this whole subplot turns out sweet and adorable and still convincing.)
( Read more... )
The novel begins with a rather tedious enumeration of family backgrounds in the local town; it feels quite some time before the pace begins to be lifted.
There's some American bullishness, smug self-satisfaction, and dismissal of the old country in the culture clash; on the other hand, there's American practicality set against foolish British habits. For those who appreciate balance, it is quite balanced!
There's one or a few of Trollope's standard love triangles, which seem to echo ground covered in other books such as THE WAY WE LIVE NOW and THE BELTON ESTATE. A high point is probably the depiction of the antiheroine Arabella Trefoil and the great amount of detail spent on what she must do in pursuit of a wealthy husband. There's an air of verisimiltude and sympathy; she has little power to exist in the world otherwise and acts out of what seems necessity. Arabella's character development also becomes of interest as the novel finally gets into its stride.
If for no other reason, I am glad that I read this novel because of the following passage alone. It takes place after the young lady Mary Masters has refused a suitor she does not love by post and her stepmother seeks to reclaim the letter.
[F]irst she [Mrs. Masters] made a futile attempt to clutch the letter from the guardianship of the Post Office, and she went to the Postmaster assuring him that there had been a mistake in the family, that a wrong letter had been put into a wrong envelope, and begging that the letter addressed to Mr. Twentyman might be given back to her. The Postmaster, half vacillating in his desire to oblige a neighbour, produced the letter and Mrs. Masters put out her hand to grasp it; but the servant of the public,—who had been thoroughly grounded in his duties by one of those trusty guardians of our correspondence who inspect and survey our provincial post offices,—remembered himself at the last moment and expressing the violence of his regret, replaced the letter in the box. Mrs. Masters, in her anger and grief, condescended to say very hard things to her neighbour;—but the man remembered his duty and was firm.
It's beautiful to think that Anthony Trollope was a damn good postmaster himself in his time. I love this self-indulgent digression about the duties of the post office! (And this whole subplot turns out sweet and adorable and still convincing.)
( Read more... )
