Trollope's Intriguing and Fun Point of View

One aspect of Anthony Trollope’s first two books in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series, The Warden and Barchester Towers, is the shifting and playful point of view that the author presents. Both novels are written mostly in third-person point of view. However, at times in the narrative, the prose shifts into first-person. Trollope actually uses at least two different forms of first-person. Very occasionally, he puts himself into the story and recounts conversations that he has had with various characters. At other times, quite often in fact, he actually refers to himself as a novelist and refers to the story as something that he has created. He also directly addresses the reader, calling him or her, “reader”.

One of my favorite instances of this occurs in Barchester Towers. The widowed Eleanor Bold is beginning to be wooed by several men, including the scheming and manipulative Mr. Slope and the buffoonish and narcissistic Bertie Stanhope. These attempted courtships become a major narrative thread that weaves itself around much of the balance of the novel. At this early stage, Trollope reveals the ultimate outcome,

But let the gentle-hearted reader be under no apprehension whatsoever. It is not destined that Eleanor shall marry Mr. Slope or Bertie Stanhope.

Why does Trollope reveal this milestone in the plot so far advance? The reader has no need to speculate. Trollope explains exactly why he does this.

And here perhaps it may be allowed to the novelist to explain his views on a very important point in the art of telling tales. He ventures to reprobate that system which goes so far to violate all proper confidence between the author and his readers by maintaining nearly to the end of the third volume a mystery as to the fate of their favourite personage. Nay, more, and worse than this,  is too frequently done. Have not often the profoundest efforts of genius been used to baffle the aspirations of the reader, to raise false hopes and false fears, and to give rise to expectations which are never to be realized? Are not promises all but made of delightful horrors, in lieu of which the writer produces nothing but most commonplace realities in his final chapter?

Trollope goes on for several additional paragraphs, explaining why he eschews this form of literary suspense. He even mentions Ann Radcliffe by name, as well as several of Jane Austin’s characters, as he playfully criticizes books that rely too much upon suspense as a plot technique. Within this digression, he also creates a mini comedy as an example.  A loose-lipped girl named Susan reveals vital plot details to her sibling, Kitty. Susan and Kitty are not characters in the main narrative. They are just a duo that Trollope creates to make his not so serious point. After the secret is revealed, he presents us with a dialog between the two,

"How very ill-natured you are, Susan," says Kitty with tears in her eyes: "I don't care a bit about it now."

Trollope next directly addresses Kitty,

Dear Kitty, if you will read my book, you may defy the ill-nature of your sister. There shall be no secret that she can tell you. Nay, take the third volume if you please— learn from the last pages all the results of our troubled story, and the story shall have lost none of its interest, if indeed there be any interest in it to lose. 

I find this marvelously inventive and amusing. I think that Trollope does succeed in creating a certain intimacy with his readers here. It is insightful as well as fun the way that he is letting us in a little on the details of his writing process. Though these variations and digressions seem to be presented in a tongue in cheek and ironic style, I do think that they are meant to say something about writing. Before reading the above, I thought that I was the only one that thought that sometimes too much suspense can actually mar a story that includes very strong and aesthetically pleasing characters.

There is another passage included in the book that once again cleverly plays this game. At one point, Eleanor is speaking to a much more honorable love interest, Reverend Francis Arabin. A misunderstanding occurs and Eleanor is angry, essentially because Arabin does not explain the situation,

Everything would have been explained, and Eleanor would have gone back to Barchester with a contented mind. How easily would she have forgiven and …had she but heard the whole truth from Mr. Arabin.  But then where would have been my novel?

That last line is priceless.

There are many additional examples of all this sprinkled throughout the narrative.

Without a doubt Trollope’s unconventional twists in his point of view liven up these novels. I tend to be a hound for innovation and variation in storytelling as I think that such experiments add diversity and spice to literature. As I continue to read Trollope I will be persistently watching for more of these intriguing digressions in his prose.

My commentary on The Warden is here.

My commentary on Barchester Towers is here.

My commentary on Doctor Thorne is here.

The Warden - Anthony Trollope

The below contains spoilers as I needed to reveal some key plot elements in order to convey my thoughts on this book.

The Warden by Anthony Trollope is the first book in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series and also the first book that I have read from this author. This work centers upon Septimus Harding, an elderly clergyman who is the warden of a retirement home and hospital for elderly and indigent church employees. Harding is a humble and decent man who becomes caught in the middle of a conflict.

John Bold, a somewhat overbearing, crusading reformer who, though a friend of Harding, begins to take on a cause that puts him at odds with the warden. The hospital was set up as a trust several hundred years earlier through an endowment from a wealthy patron. The question of how much compensation the church should be paying to the warden and other officials of the trust is brought into question by Bold’s exertions. Basically, Bold asserts that too much money is paid to the warden and that more money should go to the patients. As the story progresses, criticism of Harding mounts and he is even personally attacked by self-serving and unethical journalists.

Harding’ s son in law, the even more overbearing Archdeacon Grantly, takes up the cause of the church and Harding in opposition to Bold. Complicating matters are such contributing factors as Harding himself begins to believe that his compensation is too high and unjust, Bold and Harding’s youngest daughter Eleanor are in love, and the hospital’s patients become divided over the issue.

Harding is a surprisingly interesting character. His meekness is at times so profound that it might be characterized as weakness. At one point, he decides to resign his position of warden because he cannot stand the public criticism but mostly because he concludes that he is truly not entitled to the generous salary.  He openly acknowledges that, since his son-in-law would oppose this measure, he must avoid Grantly, as he would not be able to carry out his conviction in the face of the archdeacon’s strong will.  However, he ultimately finds great moral courage in himself when he finally does resign.

Trollope’s style has been compared to Charles Dickens’s, who was a contemporary and an acquaintance. Based upon this one work, I would argue that while there are similarities between the two authors, Trollope has his own distinct style. For instance, Trollope’s characters, though less entertaining than those of Dickens, are also less absurd and generally more realistic. Likewise, Trollope paints a more balanced picture of the world’s contending forces. Trollop also seems less sentimental than Dickens.

One thing that this novel exudes is its advocacy of moderation, balance and simplicity, as is personified in Harding. The warden is caught in between overzealous, self-aggrandizing reformers and arrogant, unbending conservatives. The author sees a lot of good and a lot of bad in these contrasting views and in the people who hold them. Thus, he clearly is advocating a middle ground. This acknowledgement of shades of good and bad inherent in different types of people and ideologies seems to drive a theory of the world where moderation and cautious change work best, since no one view is completely in the right or in the wrong. The dogmatists on both sides, personified by both Grantly and Bold, are shown to be mostly well intentioned, but also as causing harm in the world. This writer is critical of those who see the world in too black and white terms. One thing that I really admired here is that despite their deep flaws, these antagonists are not demonized and each is shown to have good qualities.

An example of this rejection of simplistic thinking occurs at one point when Trollope refers to a commentator/reformer who is unable to distinguish between shades of gray, Trollope writes,

No man ever resolved more bravely than he to accept as good nothing that was evil; to banish from him as evil nothing that was good. 'Tis a pity that he should not have recognised the fact, that in this world no good is unalloyed, and that there is but little evil that has not in it some seed of what is goodly.

Trollope reserves his harshest criticism for a popular novelist who, in this author’s view, portrays the world very simplistically and through the lens of over exaggeration.  This novelist is clearly and unquestionably a thinly disguised version of Charles Dickens. Trollope describes him,

Of all such reformers Mr Sentiment is the most powerful. It is incredible the   number of evil practices he has put down: it is to be feared he will soon lack subjects, and that when he has made the working classes comfortable, and got bitter beer put into proper-sized pint bottles, there will be nothing further for him left to do. Mr Sentiment is certainly a very powerful man, and perhaps not the less so that his good poor people are so very good; his hard rich people so very hard; and the genuinely honest so very honest. Namby-pamby in these days is not thrown away if it be introduced in the proper quarters. Divine peeresses are no longer interesting, though possessed of every virtue; but a pattern peasant or an immaculate manufacturing hero may talk as much twaddle as one of Mrs Ratcliffe's heroines, and still be listened to. Perhaps, however, Mr Sentiment's great attraction is in his second-rate characters.

 

Trollope goes on and on for pages carping about  “Mr Sentiment” in a similar vain.

If there is any doubt about the true identity of this author, two of Dickens’ characters, Mr. Buckett and Mrs. Gamp, are actually identified by name! The theme of moderate balance and avoidance of hyperbole finds its perfect foil in Charles Dickens.

There is so much here, and as usual I have not touched upon many aspects of this novel. Certain characters, including both Harding and Bold, are surprisingly complex and very well drawn.  The point of view of the novel is fascinating, it is usually third person, but occasionally drifts into first person and into other variations. There are a lot of aesthetically pleasing allusions to classic mythology. Harding and his experiences often parallel Christ and the Gospels, including Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane as well as the story of the Last Supper. Ultimately, this is an extremely well crafted character study that is also an entertaining read. I cannot wait to get to the remainder of the Chronicles of Barsetshire.

My commentary on the second book in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series, Barchester Towers is here.

My commentary on the third book in the Chronicles of Barsetshire series, Doctor Thorne is here.

My commentary on Trollop’s unusual Pont of View is here.