From: Sigmund Eisner March 26, 2000
From: Sigmund Eisner Today is the day we are allowed our first comments about The Small House
at Allington, and I must say first off that it is a pleasure to get back
to one of Trollope's better novels, which The Fixed Period was not.
Trollope, of course is always a delight to read, but then The Small
House is more of a delight than some other Trollope novels.
In preparation for The Small House, I reread Sense and Sensibility.
No one can accuse Trollope of copying Austen; in fact no one can accuse
Trollope of copying any of the copious great literature which he read.
The Dales of the Small House and the Dashwoods have some points in
common, but these are surface points. Both families consist of a
widowed mother and two daughters. Both families live in houses donated
by a more affluent relative. All four daughters are single and nubile.
Both younger daughters become far too fond of a cad. These
similarities might lead some to think that the two novels are alike.
But they are not.
Austen turns her spotlight on the reactions of the elder daughter to the
vicissitudes of her family. We see most of the action through Elinor's
eyes. Although both Marianne and Lily will ultimately suffer
greviously, we see Marianne's misery mostly as Elinor sees it. We see
Lily's misery, when it comes, through other eyes. The peripheral
characters in these novels are totally unalike. The rich relatives in
S&S are mostly described as distant and humorous. Trollope takes the
peripheral relatives very seriously. Austen's humor is very funny,
especially when she describes characters whose own speech gives them
away, for instance, besides John Dashwood in S&S, Mrs. Elton in
Emma and Mr. Collins in P& P. Austen, when she wishes to be, can be
terribly unforgiving, and she often is with the Dashwoods, Eltons, and Collinses
of her novels. Trollope can describe a villain too, but we notice that
he is more tolerant toward the sins of Johnny Eames. In the long run,
Trollope's heroes and villains are more realistic than Austen's.
Let's take, for instance, Johnny Eames. We have only just met him, but
we are told he is a hobbledy hoy, which Trollope describes with a
Fielding-like affection. Anyone who is as much in love with Lily Dale,
as Johnny says he is, has no business trifling with Amelia Roper.
Johnny is much like Tom Jones in that regard. Fielding said something
to the effect that a single act no more marks a villain than does a part
in a play. Trollope takes that attitude too. A lifetime of wicked
deeds does indeed mark a villain, and Trollope does not hesitate to
paint such a portrait when the occasion rises. But Johnny Eames, like
Tom Jones or Joseph Andrewes, is a pretty good fellow. We can forgive
his trifling with Amelia Roper because we know he will never get really
serious about her, even though he has already given her to understand
that he intends to marry her. I don't think you ever meet a young man
like than in Austen.
All this means that Trollope is more realistic than is Austen, but then
all of us already knew that.
Sig
March 26, 2000
Re: The Small House at Allington, Chs 1-3: Landscapes, Houses,
Characters
I read Sig's commentary on the differences between Austen's and
Trollope's art and S&S and The Small House with real interest.
I like Sig's word, 'unforgiving'. Austen is more unforgiving than
Trollope; she is also not a realist in his way; she is a satirist, and
she shapes her narratives to make ironic and often harsh points.
Not only is there no one like Johnny Eames; there is no one like
Mrs Dale. Chapter 3 of this book is plangent. Trollope's grasp
of the yearning of the 40 year old mother for sexual and other
kinds of vivid exhilarating experiences, for adventure, challenge,
and her willingness to give all this up because 1) she can't
know it given her position; 2) loved her first husband intensely
and her girls now; 3) is deeply proud in the best ways is superb.
Mrs Dale cannot be fitted into a satiric perspective.
At the same time, I think the parallels are close and not superficial.
We have to wait until later to see them all: just now it is the 2
girls living in a relatives' house with the 40 year old mother;
Adolphus Crosbie and John Willoughby. At the opening of S&S
Austen sees Marianne from the outside, but as the book progresses
I would argue we see Marianne's experience from within, that
Elinor is a kind of doppelganger for Marianne, and the kind of
deep sympathy for Marianne's erotic enthrallment is rewritten in
the character of Lily Dale, with Belle playing the part of the
sensitive sensible prudent sister. Yes the emphasis is switched:
in Austen Elinor's consciousness is where we dwell, and in
The Small House, Lily, or the Marianne character is the
consciousness where we dwell.
I suggest to Angela that if she had time (she may not) she
reread S&S. I know she takes the train; if she didn't, I
would suggest trying to listen to Sarah Badel read aloud
dramatically S&S.
I too am much relieved to get back to Barsetshire. Not because
I thought _The Fixed Period_ was inferior. I think it's a gem,
a Swiftian satire with an intensely poignant autobiographical
subtext. However, it is not psychological art; there is a sense
in which _The Fixed Period_ is not a novel, but an anomalous
satire, which with a novelistic surface and roots (novels are
often autobiographies disguised).
This posting is about the first three chapters or first instalment
of The Small House. We are introduced to those of
our central characters who are attached to or dwell
in the Great and Small houses of Allington; Squire Dale,
Lilian and Bell Dale, Mrs Dale, Adolphus Crosbie and
Bernard Dale. Mostly Dales. Although later on Trollope's
hesitation in including The Small House as Barsetshire
novel in his An Autobiography, and the lack of an
ecclesiastical set of characters and the Barsetshire
countryside itself would make us wonder if the book is
a Barset, the nostalgia and intense self-conscious
celebration of the county countryside suggests Trollope
at least was aiming at the audience of Framley Parsonage.
Between Framley Parsonage and The Small House,
Trollope wrote a bunch of short stories, Orley Farm
and North America. He returns to the reader of
the Cornhill whose yearning for some idealised
pastoral vision of the English countryside Framley
ParsonageBarchester
Towers and the Ullathorne's house), to the shrewd
depiction of the way the Dales have held onto their
property. The whole way Trollope slowly builds the
pictures, telling us how the houses relate to one
another reminds me of Dr Thorne and Framley
Parsonage.
The characters are all new and fascinating. One could
argue that Trollope has reached a new level of
psychological perspicacity in this book. I liked
the lack of idealism in the depiction of the characters.
There are also many foreshadowings of what's to
come, especially in the narrator's insistence on
Squire Dale's meanness over money, his obstinacy,
and rigidity of perspective. Adolphus the 'swell'.
There's more slang. It connotes a dandy, a fop,
but one who is unpleasant in his self-satisfaction,
someone who swaggers, someone who is a snob.
I think of the old Aesop fable about the toad who
swelled himself up and burst. Lily is intensely
attracted to Adolphus and there is a real
sensuality about the scene beneath the
tree where Lily and Bernard and Adophus
cover one another with hay. She therefore
insults him, ironises about him; it's a form of
sexual teasing, the kind of sex antagonism
which comes out of attraction we find in Darcy
and Elizabeth in P&P. Each stroke filling
in Lily's pysche is well done: I had not realised
she was such a tease; she cannot forbear
making her sister uncomfortable either. Perhaps
here Trollope is looking forward to her comeuppance
too -- that is not just Adolphus will be taught a
hard lesson. Lily will too. She is rash, unthinking
and passionate from the moment we meet her.
There were so many good passages in just these
three chapters I don't know which to quote. I like
the harsh description of how Squire Dale actually
looks: a face that informs he is not a man of
great parts, capacity or generosity. I find sharp
the description of Bernard Dale's father and
mother at Torquay Bath as useless forlorn
figures wandering with one daughter among 'the
Torquay card-tables.' The analysis of Bernard
reminds me of people I have known: 'By
industry, by a small but wakeful intelligence,
and by some aid from patronage, he had
got on till he had almost achieved the
reputation of talent. His name had become
known among scientific experimentalists ...'
He need not shoot off canons, but only
understand them (Everyman Small House, ed
DSkilton, Ch 2, p. 12). Best of all was the
quiet use of imagery at just the right moments,
never too much, not ostentatious, natural:
'And if it should come, and should be happy,
might there not be a bright evening of life for
herself' (Ch 3, p. 27).
Cheers to all, RE: Small House, Chs 4-6: Amelia and Lily, Parallel Women
The scenes in Allington and Mrs Roper's boarding-house have
much sexual innuendo. I think to myself that as with Is He
Popenjoy? had Trollope written this book in this decade how
much more frank he could have been. Trollope description
of the Lupexes adds to the innuendo about wolves and
prostitutes. We are told Mrs Lupex's 'nose isn't quite straight',
that it was 'a long thin nose, which, as it progressed forward
into the air, certinaly had a preponderating bias to the left
side' (Everyman Small House, Ch 4, p. 37). Just a little
later Cradell says he has an 'idea that Lupex treats her
very badly'; Johnny adds to this that he 'fancies it's quite
the other way', and 'That Lupex has quite as much as he
likes of Mrs L. The sound of her voice sometimes makes
me shake in my shoes'. When Lupex comes home, the
atmosphere becomes unpleasant, everyone scatters. The
innuendo or implication is of brutality: Mr L beats Mrs L
and has hit her nose that bad it is awry. She gives as
good as she gets. One cause is justified sexual jealousy.
The notes Skilton provides explicating some of Trollope's
references to places and use of phrases whose hum and
buzz he expects us to know (but we can't living so much
after him) turn Amelia Roper into someone who has given
sex for money, jobs, or simply had it for fun casually.
Skilton quotes some rhymes about the Cremorne Gardens
and Henry Mayhew's unusually explicit description of
them as a place prostitutes went to, as well as young
men looking for lower-class girls to pick up. N. John
Hall is among those who see in Johnny's liaison with
Amelia Roper a reflection of Trollope's affairs as a young
men with similar young women (this would also connect
to Charlie Tudor in The Three Clerks).
The phrase 'first young lady in a milinery establishment
in Manchester' is even more loaded: Skilton tells us
'such "young ladies" were chosen for their appearance,
as they modelled clothes for customers. The occupation
was associated with loose living or outright prostitution;
again Henry Mayhew has some choice words, and
Arthur Munby on the milliner: 'they have all the temptations
and none of the safe-guards of the classes above and
below them".
Trollope goes as far as he dares in a middle class novel
to suggest to us that behind the scenes Johnny and
Amelia indulge in a good deal of sex (if not 'going all
the way' -- to use a phrase Tyler now tells me is still
used by people who regard sex as a kind of negotiated
battle, something sordid by which you gain something).
On previous readings I never much thought about the
parallels between Lily and Amelia: I saw them as
a study in contrast. But after all, Johnny thinks he
is above Amelia, and she is far too open and hasty
to catch him; the same paradigm is found in Lily's
relationship with Crosby. As I said earlier, I agree
with Joanna Trollope's assessment of Lily's sexual
experience as an engaged girl. Trollope tells us
Lily has that kind of pride which guarantees self-respect
which passage is his way of saying she is chaste,
but chastity and no sex during the time you are
engaged to the man you are going to marry are
different things. I agree with Catherine
that the scene in the Hay is sensual and suggestive.
So too and much more the later walks Lily takes with
Crosby. Now the way Trollope writes about the
hay and later walks in the garden moonlight make me feel
we are in a pastoral, idyllic moments of erotic
contentment; however, the dramatic relationships
between the two couples (Johnny and Amelia,
Adolphus and Lily) bring the power basis of the
relationship, the ugly games of status which affect
love to the fore. One problem in reading the novel
is people sometimes tend to make of Johnny
Eames an innocent, a good guy, all hero, and
Adolphus Crosbie, the corrupt, weak guy, all
betraying villain. Look at little closer and you
see they share traits and behaviors.
Cheers to all, From Catherine Crean" From: "Catherine Crean" I notice that in A Small House at Allington there are many mentions (at
least in Crosbie's own recollections) of Lily Dale and "fields." Crosbie
thinks of walking with Lily through the fields. Is this symbolic? I think it
is. Fields have romantic resonance. Also, in the chapters we just read,
there is a scene where the characters cover each other in hay while
frolicking on a walk. This passage stands out in my mind. I can't recall
Trollope writing another like it, and at first glance, the passage seems
odd, at least to me. When I think of fields I think of openness,
cultivation, harvesting, and sunlight. If you look at how many times
Trollope associates Lily Dale with fields (in Crobie's mind) it is quite
striking.
Catherine Crean
From: "Angela Richardson" From: "Angela Richardson" As you say, Catherine, it will be splendid to discuss The Small House.
I've been thinking about Lily and Marianne. Trollope makes it clear
to us that she is intelligent and witty right from the start, but I am
not sure that we feel that way about Marianne, perhaps because Austen
keeps telling us she and her mother need moderating. On the other hand,
it doesn't seem that Lily reads very much - she certainly doesn't ask
Crosbie to read aloud from Romantic poets as I recall.
Angela
I responded to Catherine's too:
Re: 'Consider the lilies of the field ...
First I quoted the Bible:
Catherine's observation of Trollope's association with Lily Dale (a
field implied in the name) with fields suggests that memories of
the famous Biblical passage were in Trollope's mind when he
named his 'favorite heroine'. We should remember that Trollope
did not become irritated by Lily Dale until years had gone by
and his readers had turned her into a symbol of 'pure love', a
saint he never intended her to be. When talking with Bret
Harte, he is still calling her the heroine I loved best (or words
to this effect) and sensitive to jokes about her.
The Biblical phrase takes us in two directions back into the
novel. One on the one hand, there is the intense eroticism
of the book. We have many scenes, dialogues, bits of letters
which are suffused with an intense emotionalism (as in the
opening of Chapter 6). This strong emotion about love
seems to me something new in Trollope, at least I don't
remember it in the earlier novels. It sort of leaks everywhere
and into everything in the book. We can see it in the portrait
of Mrs Dale's longing, the quiet intensity of Belle. Trollope
wanted to call his book the 'Two Pearls of Allington'. I am
glad he didn't; that feels so cloying to me. However, the
title suggests he meant to focus on the intense erotic feminine
mood which Lily's story draws upon. 'Pearl' too recalls
Shakespeare's Othello who alludes to another Biblical
passage at the end of the play, about the merchant who
threw the richest pearl away.
This gets me to the other theme the Biblical passage opens
up. In Chapter 6 Trollope wastes no time showing us the
small-mindedness and shallow worldly-selfish nature of Adolphus.
From the moment of the engagement, Crosbie has in mind
what he can get out of old man Dale. His love for Lily is limited.
Only if she comes arrayed with a rich man's luxury goods,
only if she adds to his income, does he want her; he is
already hesitating over his engagement ('Could it be that
he, Adolphus Crosbie should settle down on the north side
of the New Road, as a married man, with eight hundred
a year?', Everyman The Small House, ed DSkilton,
Ch 6, p. 53). We are told that Lily's ideas about money
in her marriage, were vague, but they were 'very honest'
(p. 53). She is ready to accept what is really available to her from
her husband's income and live within it. The implication is
not Adolphus, and within two pages, we find him sneaking
about Bernard's state of mind, ferreting out what the Squire
is going to do for Lily. As the opening couple of pages
of Chapter 6 is suffused with intense idealistic emotionalism,
so the closing pages show us two narrow minded, cold
men, Bernard and the Squire, and in Bernard's conversation
with Crosbie and the Squire's with Bernard we have in
little the tragedy of Adolphus and Lily (for it is a tragedy
for Adolphus who throws away his pearl) to come. Indeed
the opening pages of the book which show us how the
Squire never gives graciously even that which he thinks
the world's conventions demand that he give contain
in them the reasons for the failure of Adolphus to come
-- though it is Adolphus's failure
I so admire how Trollope can capture the kinds of minds
we find in the Squire and Bernard. In later books he seems
intent on shoving these kinds of minds as in charge of
the world in our faces (Is He Popenjoy?), in these
earlier books he is more detached. Who cannot understand
why Mrs Dale is not eager to dine with the Squire?
In a quiet note we can remember how such people unknown
to themselves -- as too thick, too dense, too unimaginative --
poison other people's moments. Existence exists in moments.
All else fleets away as unreal.
To return to Catherine's idea about imagery of the fields,
I can't too strongly recommend a highly readable book
by Juliet McMasters called The Palliser Novels. She
opens the book with a chapter on The Small House
as the prelude to the second series. She includes a
wonderful chapter showing how not only in the Palliser
books but many of Trollope's landscape and houses
are metaphorically used. She talks at length about
the sensuality of the imagery in much of the landscape
scenes in the Barsetshire and Palliser books. I always
remember the fells in Can You Forgive Her? (where
Alice walks with Kate, and then George with each
of them -- Gothic traces are found in these
and other scenes in the Pallisers.)
Thus I agree with Angela about
how we slowly move into the world of Allington, but
I think this slow movement and creation of a landscape
is also found in Dr Thorne and Framley Parsonage.
I suggest it is the mark of a series for Trollope: he
has in his mind he is returning to a kind of book he
has been writing in the Barsetshire type. He does
the same kind of filling in of streets, places, and
expansive movement into past history in the third
of the Irish books (Castle Richmond) and also
The American Senator. In my book I argue the
Irish books should be read as a series, and there
are others who have agreed; I have also come
across the idea that in The American Senator
Trollope was again building a landscape he meant
to come back to, and we find that is true as its
world is found in Ayala's Angel.
Ellen Moody
To Trollope-l
March 29, 2000
Re: The Small House: Adophus Crosbie & the Two Pearls
I forgot to include a sharp line written by our narrator on
the reality that Adolphus could have had Belle had he
wanted her: 'It is almost sad to think that such a man
might have had the love of either of such girls, but I
fear that I must acknowledge it was so' (Everyman
Small House, Ch 6, p. 49).
The narrator of the Barsetshire books is ever tactful,
touches on sore realities of our worlds in a back-handed
way again and again, lest of course he offend the
reader of circulating library books. But he wants
them to see who it is to whom they would allow themselves
to be erotically enthralled.
I have to say I see much of the patterning of Sense
and Sensibility in The Small House. Marianne's
relationship will Willoughby is repeatedly in deep
psychological and more detailed realistic terms
in that of Lily and Crosie. Belle is a variant on
Elinor Dashwood. These 6 chapters even have
several analogues to those who know S&S.
The general ones: both Mrs Dale and Mrs Dashwood
are widows of 40; both have longings for sexual life and
adventure themselves. There is the small house on the
great estate -- rent-free. There is the denseness and dullness of
the inhabitant(s) of the great house.
The specific: When Mrs Dale says she would not interfere,
she is repeating the behavior of Mrs Dashwood
who will not interfere. Finally when Belle and Lily
discuss how much money is a 'decent income' for
a married life to begin with, they recall a conversation
beween Marianne and Elinor in which they discuss what is a
competence and what luxury. Trollope reverses
the roles: Marianne Dashwood is not sure
that £2000 is a competence (because, alas,
could one keep horses on that, and Willoughby
has to keep horse); Elinor says
to her £2000 is luxury. Lily wants a 'some
decent income' and it turns out this would
be £800 (just Adolphus's salary -- how about
that for a coincidence?); Belle has high-flown
notions as to the absolute glory of poverty'
(which recalls Marianne's sentiments until
she cites the actual sum she knows she
and Willoughby would need). Later on Belle's
doctor will recall the character of Austen's
Brandon in a couple of way. This may come
from the typing that is often at the heart
of characterisation in the so-called
realistic novel. Novels are not finally
realistic, they depend on certain
stereotypes of conventional life.
That Lily and Elinorboth draw is probably
a result of both authors depicting the same
milieu and type of heroine, but the parallel
is intriguing in the context of the parallel
paradigms and specific close analogues.
Yes the early book is satiric and sharp; this
one psychological and realistic, but both
authors are on about the same thing.
Cheers to all, Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] The Small House: Widow Dale and Lady Scatcherd
From: x95tichelaar@wmich.edu
I wish to compare Widow Dale to Lady Scatcherd because when I began to read
the chapter entitled "The Widow Dale of Allington" (chapter 3), the early
descriptions of her reminded me of how Lady Scatcherd was presented in Dr.
Thorne. I recall when we read that novel that Ellen remarked how Trollope
wants us to praise Lady Scatcherd as a worthy woman who knows her place and
devotes all her care to her husband, much as the Widow Dale seems to do for
her daughters. People may recall that when we read Framley Parsonage, I
was quite outraged by Lady Scatcherd's situation as described when Dr. Thorne
went to visit her while trying to decide if he should marry Miss Dunstable.
I felt that Lady Scatcherd deserved happiness after all the years she put up
with Sir Roger and experienced class displacement. I could not believe
Trollope was so cruel in his treatment of her, and I'm still a bit angry with
him over that.
I was very struck, therefore, by his description of the Widow Dale as
self-sacrificing because I was allowing the narrator into lulling me into the
belief that I was supposed to admire the Widow Dale for her self-sacrifice
for her daughters. Then suddenly, there was that overpowering narrative
voice: "I think that Mrs. Dale was wrong. She would have joined tha tparty
on the croquet ground, instead of remaining among the peasticks with her
sun-bonnet, had she done as I would have counselled her" (22, the Trollope
Society edition). In fact, I was struck throughout these six chapters by the
intruding voice of the narrator giving personal opinions, something I expect
from Trollope, but which seemed more frequent here than in the previous
Barchester novels. Trollope is absolutely right, she shouldn't place herself
in this position, but I am so used to Victorian novels that suggest women
should be self-sacrificing, as are Dickens's Esther Summerson or George
Eliot's Dorothea Brooke. Somehow, Trollope seems rather radical here to me.
When he also states that the Dale sisters think their mother really does not
like to go places, I felt admiration for her sacrifice all the more, but then
the narrator states that both girls will eventually know that wasn't so, and
how much their mother has suffered for their sakes. I will be curious to see
if they feel their mother has suffered needlessly, as the narrator suggests,
or if the other characters will praise the mother for her sacrifices.
Tyler Tichelaar
Date: Fri, 31 Mar 2000 17:58:31 -0500 We shouldn't overlook this very important difference between Mrs. Dale and
Lady Scatcherd: Mrs. Dale has had some kind of education. I don't mean
book-learning so much as the finishing that distinguished a lady from a
woman. A good deal of this finishing had the side effect of teaching a lady
what she might do with her spare time. It's the want of this education that
makes Lady Scatcherd's life an ironic desert. Mrs. Dale endures heavy
thoughts, it's true, but I imagine that Lady Scatcherd would welcome the
interest of some misfortune.
It seems clear to me, moreover, that Trollope's sympathies are determined by
whether or not a character - particularly a female character - has had the
(some would say: arguable) benefit of a finishing education. Far more than
money or birth, it's what makes ladies and gentlemen. It is inconceivable
that Lady Mason would have been treated so delicately had her manner been
like Lady Scatcherd's.
RJ Keefe
Re: The Small House: Widow Dale and Lady Scatcherd
To Tyler and Trollope-l friends,
Isn't it fascinating how the narrator of the Barsetshire books
lulls us into thinking we are supposed to admire the conventional,
lulls us so strongly through the conventional elements of the
story and its nostalgic tones that when we come across a
direct contradiction of cant, we are startled -- or overlook it.
I suspect the ploy is deliberate.
I too found Trollope's treatment of Lady Scatcherd uncomfortably
dismissive and comic. Her grief for the alcoholism and death
of her husband and son are done justice to, but the depth of
the burden she carries about by merely being alive is trivialised
by the comic treatment of her. I was even more bothered by
his treatment of Sir Louis Scatcherd. Only Sir Roger is mostly
consistently treated with real respect and his alienation
given the sympathetic analysis it deserves
Tyler might want to know of a very good book which compares
Trollope to a number of Victorian writers (including George
Eliot) and finds that in comparison to most Trollope is highly
unconventional in his attitude towards what was considered
virtue for women: Rajiva Wijeskinha's The Androgynous
Trollope (University Press of America, 1972). Unfortunately
this is not an easy book to get. It is done in the curious typed
form I increasingly find books of literary scholarship in. I got it
through interlibrary loan and then xeroxed the relevant chapters.
I did think of this book when I read the opening pages
of the book where we are given old rural country landscape
drenched in nostalgia. These reminded me of the
opening landscape in George Eliot's Felix Holt. She
does the same thing, partly in order to undercut it.
Cheers to all, Catherine Crean" From: "Catherine Crean" In The Small House at Allington I enjoy Trollope's portrayal of boarding
house life, a life with which he probably had some experience. The notes to
my Oxford World's Classics tell me that "Lupex" is a name meant to hint at
wolves or prostitutes. I just thought Lupex was a funny Trollopian name.
Making Mr. Lupex a "scene painter" is another example of Trollope's using
his knowledge of artists and "la vie Boheme" in his books. The theatrical
world and all its associations are a fitting counterpoint to Johnny Eames'
life at the boarding house. The name "Roper" is in and of itself a funny
name. Of course, there is always the suggestion that Amelia Roper is, Ado
Annie style, trying to "rope" a man for herself. I know there are people who
find the comedy here a bit too broad, but I am loving it. I keep thinking of
Trollope's autobiography when he writes about Johnny Eames, especially the
bits about his long walks where he creates dialogues with himself. Johnny is
too real and too sympathetic to be the buffoon. Ellen and Sig, your posts
have gotten this discussion off to a grand start!
Catherine Crean
To Trollope-l
March 30, 2000
RE: The Small House: Croquet Lawns in a Pastoral
I agree there is much pastoral imagery in these opening
two instalments. Now that Catherine brought up croquet lawns
what strikes me is how modern the pastoral imagery is.
Most pastoral poetry uses Renaissance, classical or
archetypal poetry which places the character types in an
eternal realm of otium, eros, and melancholy (_Et in Arcadia
Ego_ as Poussin's painting has it). Trollope is ever the
contemporary man: he brings in precisely contemporary
doings and behaviors to give the reader a variant on the
pastoral he or she can identify with.
We might look upon Johnny Eames as the shy bumpkin type
found frequently in pastorals. Shakespeare has a version
of such a one in As You Like It. I refer to Silvius,
the shepherd who lives permanently in the forest and is
rejected by Phoebe partly because he isn't aggressive
enough.
Ellen Moody
To Trollope-l
From: "Andrea Vangor" From: "Andrea Vangor" I think you are missing the point of the traditional Christian point of view
that is expressed by Trollope, and that was understood by most of his
audience without belaboring the point. A woman who is chaste acquires power
thereby, and openly displays that power in society when she chooses a
husband, or alternatively chooses not to have one. Her actions, even small
ones, are momentous because she is the possesser of real power, sharing with
God the potential ability to create a new life. Owning a female body in
this view is rather like owning a nuclear reactor, that might blow up the
whole community if not managed properly. It matters less which man she
might end up marrying, than that she exercises the power of her chastity in
the process of selecting a husband. The exercise of female power derived
from chastity is the basic drama here, and one that was appreciated and
celebrated by traditional Christian society, some vestiges of which remained
in Victorian England.
Andrea Vangor
To Andrea,
No. I was merely telling the truth about how I read the books.
I don't think Trollope wrote in the sense you outline either.
Evangelicals did.
It is a pastiche of twentieth century American fundamentalism
criss-crossed by your own sexual hang-ups and dreams.
Perhaps you should reread what Trollope says about his
meaning in his various autobiographical and critical writings
as well as what he literally says in his novels for the tone and
quality of his mind and the nature of his psychological and
ethical outlook.
Ellen Moody
From the first group read facilitated by Penny:
From: Frazer Wright Frazer quoted Penny
On 26 April, Penny Klein wrote:
I am going back to SHA after a year or so, since when I have also devoured
Dr Thorne. This time round, I am beginning to appreciate the complex
society network that is, or was Trollope's Barset. I believe I am enjoying
it more, because I can concentrate harder on the detail and not be wooed
away by the plot. This time, for instance, I was much more aware of what a
mysoginist Squire Dale was, certainly as far as his brothers' wives were
concerned. (Although it must be said he doted on the two Dale children -
probably because they did not threaten his immediate family hierarchy, but
could be fussed over and treated occasionally - rather like his family
pets.)
And how, after her initial courtesies were rebuffed, how Mrs Dale proved
equally cold to him. Like two icebergs in the Arctic, they flowed with the
same tide, apart, yet linkd by inextricable ties of family.
As for Lily, it is too early in the book for me to feel amything stronger
than mild annoyance at her transparent coquettishness. Johnny Eames is a
yokel who has been lucky enough to land a decent job. He may have the
ability to do the job, but he is immature, calculated and conceited in his
flirtation with the ageing Amelia. What we in Britain today would call
laddish behaviour - Trolloppe called it hobble-de-hoyhood - he was after an
easy conquest and to hell with the consequences on her.
Those are my impressions (I am trying *not* to skip to deeper in the book.)
This time round, I am appreciating Trollope's concentration on English
society, its structure and its class lines. In fact, the more Trolloppe I
read, the more I am convinced (uneasily so) that this English class
structure, as strict and multi-layered as any caste system, is at the root
of much of his fiction.
I did like the beautifulk description of Allington through the Squire's
estate, its village and its church. I could take you to a village only a
half dozen miles from where I live which is still Allington in almost
everything. Except road traffic and satellite dishes.
FW.
From Judith Moore in response to Penny:
It's been about twenty years since I first read SHA, so it barely counts
as re-reading, but I'm particularly taken this time with Trollope's
authorial voice, constantly encouraging fairness to characters and gently
chiding snap judgments. He finds Lily's manners more charming than
twentieth-century readers are likely to do, but the detail in which he
builds up the picture of Allington society makes everybody's quirks and
limitations credible, sympathetic or not. Lily's world is tiny! Johnny's
misadventures at Mrs. Roper's boarding house are what might be expected of
someone coming from that circumscribed and innocent milieu, in which Bell
and Dr. Crofts, who in fact love each other, are in danger of never saying
so because they keep saying what they ought to think instead of what they
actually do. Even Adolphus and Bernard aren't simply thrown to the
wolves--they can be seen as meaning well even when they can also be seen
as venal and shallow. They reinforce each other, though, as Johnny and
Cradell do and, among the women, Lily, Bell, and Mrs. Dale. Women
encourage "womanliness" in each other and men encourage laddishness or, on
a more elevated but still fatal-to-honesty mannner, gentlemanliness.
Trollope's position seem to be that given the complexity of living with
other human beings, individuals should be spared the harshest of
judgments. Even the Lupexes aren't without dimension. However dim my
earlier memories, it's a pleasure to be re-reading this book.
Judith Moore
Back to the second group read:
Date: Wed, 29 Mar 2000 18:13:50 -0000
From: "Catherine Crean" From: "Catherine Crean" My husband and I were in the Pennsylvania Dutch country over the weekend.
The Amish and Mennonites who live there still drive horses and buggies and
dress in old-fashioned ("plain") clothes. I think most people are familiar
with the Amish and know that they eschew any modern technology such as
electricity and try to live simple lives. The men and women wear black
clothing that looks like something out of the 19th century. The girls and
women wear white caps and aprons. The countryside in Pennsylvania was
beautiful - rolling hills with the fields just plowed and trees coming into
bud. I kept thinking about Belle and Lily Dale. Lo and behold! We saw two
young ladies in long dresses with neat caps on their heads walking through a
field. I wish I could have said that the girls were carrying a basket filled
with their quilting pieces, but they were carrying ugly white plastic bags
like the kind you get in grocery stores! We also passed a farmhouse with a
lush lawn in the front. Two little Amish boys were playing croquet on the
lawn. **That's a sight I haven't seen in some time. Lily Dale is "the queen
of the croquet court" as we all know. Trollope uses references to Lily and
her prowess on the croquet court to talk to symbolize her mastery of her
little domain. Interesting, too is the observation that Lily's lawn is
perfect for croquet - - level and neat, while the squire's lawn is riddled
with "tufts" The romantic Lily wants to dance on the lawn although most of
her guests don't find this as enjoyable as dancing indoors. We have another
reference to haha fences in The Small House at Allington. (Trollope sets
scenes in and by hahas in Barchester Towers as well.) Austen uses hahas in
Mansfield Park . To me, hahas symbolize "invisible barriers." There are
many elements of landscape in play in The Small House at Allington. Some
of these references build and reinforce the pastoral scenery in the Novel. I
think that Trollope uses scenic elements in a symbolic way as well. Do other
readers find this so?
Catherine Crean
** We also saw two Amish boys roller blading!
Date: Sun, 2 Apr 2000 06:49:51 -0000 I enjoyed the posts from Ellen and Sig comparing A Small House at
Allington with Sense and Sensibility and I hope that people will
continue to post on this topic. As we get further along in the book I am
noticing Mrs. Dale more and more. She wants to give her daughters every
chance to be happy but sometimes I think she is too trusting of people
around her. Her family doesn't know much about Crosbie, and yet he enjoys an
intimacy with the family. Didn't Mrs. Dale have an idea that the squire
would want his heir to marry Belle? Mrs. Dale seems like a very "hands off"
parent to me. She seems like Mrs. Dashwood in this regard. Crosbie is not
the obvious rake that Willoughby is, but why is Crosbie the fox allowed into
the Dale dovecote?
Catherine Crean
Date: Sun, 2 Apr 2000 12:18:02 -0700 (PDT) A last minute comment on the initial section of The
Small House at Allingto.
At the beginning of Chapter IV when Trollope has
described Johnny Eames as a hobbledehoy he goes on to
compare hot house fruit with naturally ripened fruit
and how fruit allowed to ripen in its own time should
have the better flavour.
I love this passage. It is one of the most evocative
passages I believe I have read in many years.
Dagny
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] The Small House at Allington and Sense and
Sensibility Compared
Ellen Moody
Ellen Moody
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] Small House: Hay
'Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither
do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all
his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore if God so
clothe the grass of the field ...' (Matthew 6:28; see also Luke 12:27).
Ellen Moody
From: "R J Keefe"
Subject: [trollope-l] The Small House: Widow Dale and Lady Scatcherd
Ellen Moody
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] The Small House: The Ropers and the Lupexes
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
"For those of you re -reading it, how does it compare with the first
time? do you understand more of the themes and character motivations?
Are you enjoying it more now or less?"
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] The Small House: Croquet lawns and haha ditches
Groups-From: "Catherine Crean"
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] Sense and Sensibility
Groups-From: Dagny
Reply-To: trollope-l@onelist.com
Subject: [trollope-l] Small House, chapters 1-6
Home
Contact Ellen Moody.
Pagemaster: Jim
Moody.
Page Last Updated 11 January 2003