From: The Hansens These are five very fine chapters. The wonderful love story
doesn't need my praise, so I will dwell on a couple of 'lessons'
from chapter seventeen.
First we have the old brewer, Tappitt. He is resistant to change
and bullheaded about the making of bad beer. But in this chapter
he does something that Trollope feels is always foolish: he ignores
good advice from one qualifed to give it. Honyman, who I guess is
his lawyer, presents three alternatives to Tappitt, and all three
are ignored. This decision to ignore good advice will probably
later be regretted.
The second lesson is the satire that is directed toward the gossip
generated in the small town of Baslehurst. The accusation that
Rowan has left unpaid bills receives wide circulation and the one
man who might deny this, Mr Griggs, remains silent. This gossip
quickly sweeps through town and, while it can be considered a plot
device to enhance suspense around the romance, it does seem
unpleasant as such. To this, Mrs Tappitt adds that Rowan has
engaged himself with another girl. In the three chapters that follow,
this second bit of gossip doesn't catch on, but maybe it will surface
again later!
Bart
Subject: TROL Rachel Ray: 16-20: Indispensable Meddlers Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
This is just to beat my little drum again to call attention to the very
amusing similarity between Mrs. Buttered Cornbread, in 'Electioneering,' and
Lady Glencora Palliser. Both are indispensible meddlers, although Trollope
allows the earlier figure a smoother road to success. I particularly liked the
agility with which Patty Comfort fences with the Tappitts, and finally decides
that she'd rather fight for Rachel Ray than for her husband!
RJ Keefe
To Trollope-l
October 19, 1998
Re: Rachel Ray, Chs 16-20: Adding to the Chorus of Praise
I too found the love story superlatively well done. If this were a
number I could point out it begins with a frank and attractively
simple and sincere letter from Luke to Rachel; is woven up to
a high point by Mrs Ray's seeking out of the wisdom of
Mr Comfort who makes the mistake of accepting electioneering
and other gossip for truth; and ends with a delicately done
long meditation by Rachel after which we have her letter
which matches Luke's. I was struck by a similarity
of phrasing in it to that the alcoholic scholar writes at the
opening of "The Spotted Dog: "I shall never expect or
even hope to see you again." The scholar wrote he expected
no answer to his appeal for work. Such sentences are hard
to write. Trollope shows his ear for what I'll call nervous
prose when he has Rachel eliminate a "to me;" the "to
me" would have added the note of plangency which the
letter just skirts. As I have read ahead I'd like to say in
a couple of chapters there is a moving scene between
Rachel and her mother where the mother hears "a tone
of agony" repressed deep in Rachel's words, and I
felt a lump come in my throat. It's the understated quality
of Rachel's grief that is so appealing.
RJ brought up the electioneering. We do have antisemitism
here. What strikes me about these scenes is simply how
realistic they are. As in the Palliser novels, Trollope brings
home to us how people vote based on personal passion
and how what they say has little to do with why they are
voting a particular way or not. Language is a tool of
manipulation. But the specific words in these scenes
seem quite mimetic. People living in a small town would
talk just this way, and the conversation about the Jew
and his being a tailor and all the petty prejudices that
come out are Trollope mirroring the reality of his day.
He does say that it is a shame Dr Harford is now so
bitter against Prong and the Liberals (and therefore
Hart) because such bitterness and hatred (especially
of his rival, Prong) "disfigured the close of a useful
and conscientious life" (Oxford Rachel Ray, ed.
PDEdwards, p. 236).
I'd like also to mention another quality in this story
that reminds me of Austen. If I met most of these people in real life,
and worse, had to live with them, I'd probably dislike them very
much. They are awful -- at least they are characterised
in ways that show up their pettiness, stupidity, meannesses,
especially the two mothers, Mrs Tappitt and Mrs Rowan with
respect to Rachel and her mother. Yet as I read I don't feel ill.
They are ignorant, foolish. Austen has many characters
in her novels who are like some of these people
similarly appalling, and yet one gets up amused and not
despairing. Partly it's that we are invited to see the world
from their point of view and identify with them. Partly
it's that we have laughed the sting of the truth away
because Trollope talks in a constant tone of irony. Also
the sting is pulled or softened by Trollope's own
affectionate tone for Mrs Ray, Rachel, & Luke &
Mrs Cornbury. So too does the lucidity of his
language and the continual beauty of the scenery console.
Grace and loveliness seem to suffuse
the atmosphere of the book and bathe things in
a more charitable light than in reason or justice many
of these people deserve. Perhaps though it is this
unsentimental understanding of the motives of
everyone that makes the love story acceptable.
It's not sentimental.
Finally, Trollope neatly dovetails the two plots together; the
talk at the Comforts becomes the ruination of Rachel's
joy. Bart brought up the Tappitt plot which I also see
as figuring forth a struggle between old landed relaxed
England and new commercial enterprise which must
pay its way. It's all woven together gently and without strain.
Quite a little book. Does anyone else want to add anything?
I am aware there are things one could complain about.
Ellen Moody
From: Thilde Fox Ellen said, "I am aware there are things one could complain about."
I do have a complaint - I find that there is a lot of repetition, especially
about Rachel's feelings, and her memory of the hand in the sky. I know
there is a certain "Austen" feel to the book, but I don't think Austen says
anything twice.
On the other hand I find the description of the men's gossip fascinating,
especially as it works up to our realisation of what Mr.Comfort will say
about the letter. It is not clear yet how these two lovers will get together.
Ellen also said that she wouldn't really like to meet many of the
characters. But I would add that I wouldn't mind living in their world, as
long as I belonged to their social class, I mean! Trollope is easy reading,
his world is organised, and the "good" characters get good things, and the
bad have only themselves to blame. True for Austen too, of course. I can
always pick up a Trollope book, however I feel. I need to steady my nerves
before I pick up, say, Nostromo or Jude, or New Grub
Street which I
haven't been able to get, but I read the comments. We tend to feel that
there was no real change in English society till WWI, but the books show a
different picture.
Thilde From Duffy Pratt:
trollope-l@teleport.com
Subject: Rachel Ray, Chs 16-20: Adding to the Chorus of Praise I've just caught up, and I too am enjoying the book.
I would like to add a new twist to the commentary. It seems to me that
there is a deep connection between the three plots (the love story, the
brewery struggle, and the election). All three arise out of xenophobia.
The election is the most clear -- Hart is a Jew from London (and a
capitalist) not to be trusted in the district. (As an aside, I could
not tell how much of Mrs. Buttered Cornbread's anti-semitism was
genuine. I had the feeling that she was playing on Tappitt's bigotry to
win him over. Thus, I wanted to believe that she was mostly pushing his
buttons, but this is largely because I would like to like her, fairy
godmother that she is.)
The love story has the same problem -- Luke is also from London. He's a
stranger to Baselhurst. Its easy to say he leaves bad debts and to pass
other false rumors about him, like his other engagement. Because he is
an outsider, he is subject to Mrs. Ray's doubts.
As for Mr. Tappitt and the brewery -- the area is an apple growing
area. Beer is a stranger to the area. Mr. Tappitt only makes bad beer,
so he is not a threat to the local custom and can be tolerated. Luke's
desire to make good beer, however, could be unsettling to an entire way
of life.
It occurs to me that Mr. Prong also is disliked as a newcomer and
outsider. The fear is that he'll abscond to Australia if he gets his
hands on Mrs. Prime's money. His parish is new and strange to the
district.
Duffy
Rachel Ray: Xenophobia?
While I agree with Duffy Pratt's insightful parallels aligning the strands of
Rachel Ray I'd like to suggest that 'xenophobia' is too strong a word for
the reservations displayed by the good people of Baslehurst. Real xenophobia
would have precluded Hart's campaign, I should think. The popularity of cider
explains Tappitt's bad brew in its indifference to beer. And Mrs. Ray really
struggles to *maintain* a proper mistrust of Luke Rowan, whom she likes very
much as soon as she meets him. What we have in all three instances is a
provincial conservatism that always prefers the old ways of doing things. In
this regard, Tappitt is about as backward as anyone in Baslehurst; and
Trollope himself outdoes any of his characters in misgivings about Mr. Prong.
RJ Keefe
Re: Rachel Ray and The Vicar of Bullhampton
Like RJ, I agree with Duffy and Thilde that this is a
closed narrow-minded suspicious community, but think xenophobia
is too strong a word for it. Not only would xenophobia have prevented
Hart from running in the first place, but xenophobia tends to be
aggressive. Xenophobia is what is manipulated into violent nationalistic
wars. This is more your garden-variety of
small-town community tribalism. The portrait
of the town's easy disposition to be wary and then suspicious
and distrustful and finally believe the worst of a stranger reminds
me of Trollope's characterisation of Bullhampton at the opening
of that novel. The comparison with Austen is instructive because
of the contrast: I think she never got far enough out of her world
to recognise how otherness frightens a tight-knit community of
people who have never travelled very far nor seen very much
outside of their own sphere of experience and beliefs.
Cheers, From Duffy Pratt:
Re: Rachel Ray: Unpleasantness
The unpleasantness I was talking about was included this state of
mind. It's stifling and even if all too human can take very ugly
turns. But it is more than that. It is the demand for conformity,
the refusal to acknowledge differences even amongst themselves,
the judgemental bent of mind, and worse of all, to me, the lack
of privacy for anyone except upstairs in their bedroom or an
hour snatched by sitting on a stile.
None of this is to say that Trollope is not accurate in his portrait.
Another difference between him and Austen is that her characters
are always shaded into satire or caricature. Except perhaps for
Mr Prong and Mrs Prime (who are overdone for effect), all these
people are rounded. I have met mild versions of them repeatedly
in my life -- for the so-called big city often resolves itself into
tiny communities with a mindset that approximates that of
Baslehurst insofar as the generalised will of the average
person can make it.
Duffy Pratt
To Trollope-l
October 8, 1998
Re: Rachel Ray: As Another of Several Studies of Provincial Life
First I agreed
Then John Mize replied:
To which I'd now like to add:
I am not sure Trollope was on Charlotte's side in the sense of declaring
war against the ideal domestic woman: we see a number of such types in
his novels. What he did dislike was hypocrisy, prurience (and oddly
enough, considering his attitude towards virginity for upper class
women, he detested hypocrisy in the area of sex), and lies about human
nature. Trollope understood he had to tell or insinuate a number
of these himself in order for his books to sell. One of the elements
I like about Rachel Ray is the women are real; none are idealised
or sentimentalised in the manner of Madeleine Staveley or Dr Wortle's
daughter or some of the heroines in the short stories (to name just
those that come to mind). Trollope liked Bronte's books because
they tell the truth insofar as she dared -- and with intense
passionate conviction.
A good novelist always has a moral design or several moral
designs which underlie and shape his texts (or stories and characters).
In Rachel Ray Trollope seems to me to have consciously determined
that he would present a picture of small town provincial life as
it really was. Perhaps this is why the book seems so Austen-like.
She said three or four families (or was it two or three?) in a small
village was just the thing for the center of a fiction to begin
on. It is, however, probably more accurate to liken Rachel Ray
to George Eliot's early shorter novels or Mrs Gaskell's Cranford.
Now Trollope had other designs in Rachel Ray than Eliot or
Gaskell in their books. He was determined to get at religious
bigotry and hypocrisy, and perhaps he imagined his portrait of
village life would please the Rev Mr Macleod's readership -- and
they wouldn't notice the undercurrents all that much. Hard to say.
He had written other books whose deeper undercurrents were only
understood by the few. The problem in Rachel Ray is the undercurrents
are not so "under" but very much to the fore.
Still I suggest provincial life was his central overriding design.
Here we have the story of a brewery. Trollope dramatises small-time
capitalism. We will have the story of an election. Trollope will
dramatise the political behavior of the human animal in this arena,
and it is different from what goes on in the Big City or Parliament
itself.
Trollope has other books which show he was interested in "studies
of provincial life" (I believe the phrase "provincial life" occurs
in the subtitle of Middlemarch). In Miss Mackenzi he adds to
this an attempt to present a middle-aged woman who is not married.
He wanted to write a story which was not a love story. He did
not succeed. He couldn't think of anything else to do with his
heroine. In The Vicar of Bullhampton he attempted a picture
of small town life and the first couple of chapters are wonderfully
successful; he then veered off into other themes (again true charity
as opposed to religious bigotry, again sex, but this time
centering on a girl who has spent time as a prostitute). The
illustrations to The Vicar of Bullhampton show the illustrator
understood part of Trollope's purpose was to present pictures
of provincial life; perhaps Trollope hoped for idyllic landscapes
from Millais.
A deep conscious theme which repeats itself -- there are many
such in Trollope -- is the one I'll describe as the opposite of what
one finds in Bunyan's _Pilgrim's Progress_. It is caught up in the
old saying "there but for the grace of God go I". My modern version
is "there but for an occasional relenting upon the part of Lady
Luck go I". The Rev Mr Frank Fenwick loathes the Rev Mr Puddleham
because Puddleham says of people who are weak, vulnerable, have
failed, are "sinful" they are other than him. He closes a wall
against them. (This is also Austen's Mr Collins's notion of Christianity
when Collins advises Mr Bennet to let Lydia roam the streets and
never lift a finger to help her.) Fenwick also rebels against the
Marquis of Trowbridge for his belief that his class status makes him
different from and better than human failings; Fenwick gets a kick
out of suggesting to Trowbridge Trowbridge's daughters could "fall"
the way Carrie Brattle did if chance had been against them. In
Rachel Ray the Mrs Primes and Mr Prongs think they are somehow
different than others and take it upon themselves to hate & fear other
people -- or at least behave towards them in a hateful fearful way which
comes down to the same thing.
But this is but one element or strand, perhaps a large one, as
such prejudice often looms large in small town life, in the
whole book. It may have struck Macleod as the central design
of the book, and certainly Macleod and his readers may well have
taken the view of humanity we find in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress
at the end of which Christian rejoices to see some people thrown
into hell while he goes to Paradise. His going to Paradise is in
fact (we are told) all the more joyous at this sight. (So I
sometimes think rich people enjoy their riches because they think
how it differentiates them from the poor and therefore makes them
better and different.) Still the central design was provincial
life and to really show it as it was.
Ellen Moody
From Marcella MacCarthy
Subject: TROL Antisemitism in Trollope I'd just like to say how much I am enjoying this discussion, and thanks to
Julian for bringing up some detailed points. I was impressed by the number of
references in The Prime Minister to Lopez's possible Jewishness--in a sense
whether he is really Jewish by heritage or faith is not the point, it is that he
is "flashy/moneyed/darkskinned/outsider/not an English gentleman" and this means
he is automatically considered as a Jew. It's a term of abuse in Trollope's eyes
here, even if that abuse is put in a prejudiced mouth. Let's be honest, Italians
and Gypsies do not come to mind. In mainstream literature the prejudices of
society are usually reflected, even if they are then analysed, and mainstream
19th cent. society was biased and prejudiced just as our own still is.
As far as the "ethnic" versus "race" question goes, perhaps these words are seen
differently in the US, but for what it's worth, "ethnic" to me defines a
cultural context, "race" as Ellen has said more elegantly, a genetic
inheritance. But if you are Jewish you get the double whammy. Look at the
descriptions. "..You can't tell a Jew because of where they go to worship: they
might be lip-service converts. Oh no, you can tell them from their swarthy skin,
their hooked noses, their bright, too-close-together eyes." Aren't these being
thought of as racial characteristics? Jews in literature seem to often have this
kind of marking out as physically different. It's as though they are too
threatening by being pale-skinned and beautiful (sexy Lopez, all those seductive
Jewish women from Shakespeare's Jessica onwards), you have to have this
authorial voice saying it is not true, they don't really look just like us, they
are different for those who can see truly. Emily sees flashing dark eyes,
Trollope sees the hooked nose. Oh dear, perhaps that's too simplistic. I know
it's painful to look at writers that ones likes and has read before and admit
that there's more there than we saw unaided, but in part that's the delight of
critical reading.
I am very fond of Trollope, but I expect most list members would agree that it
doesn't do him any favours to ignore this aspect of his writing. I am all in
favour of sharpening up our own critical prejudices, improving opinnion into
knowledge. I am reading Rachel Ray at the moment (as are many of us) and noticed
the character of the Jewish member of Parliament and how he is maligned PURELY
on the grounds of his race--he doesn't feature as a person at all (sorry, don't
read on if you don't want to know--not a major plot giveaway). I don't remember
noticing this when I read it before--perhaps it just slid past me, parhaps I
didn't like it, but there is a little area of the book where there is a lot of
"you don't want a Jew representing you" stuff which I found really leaves a bad
taste. Yes, I know it can be read as ironic, but one of the touchstones of
virtue and reason in the book, Mrs. Cornbury, finds herself using these
arguments to win a vote for her husband, even though she seems to feel a
distaste for doing so, and the defence is seen to be weak and unthinking. It's
like becoming aware of sexism or other kinds of prejudice--you reread so
differently. Like looking at Enid Blyton stories as an adult. But I'm glad we
do.
Marcella
Antisemitisim in Trollope
Trollope hints that such might be the case, as he says that she was willing
to pretend to tell Tappit what she thought about a Jew in Parliament, but
she wasn't willing to go as far as to abuse Rachel just to get Tappit's
vote. However to me that is no better, probably even worse, than if she
actually were a bigot. Many of the leading segregationist Southern
politicians, such as George Wallace and Strom Thurmond, had little trouble
courting black votes once blacks were allowed to register to vote. When
Wallace died, people talked about how his attitudes toward race changed. I
doubt if he ever had strong attitudes toward race. When racial demogaguery
was the way to win elections, that was his preferred course. When the times
changed, he conveniently changed course. I suspect that a modern Dante
would place Wallace and his friends in a less desirable section of Hell than
the bigots whose votes they courted.
To Trollope-l
October 30, 1998
Re: Rachel Ray: Those Dark Undersides
I probably don't understand what Judith Moore meant or was referring
to precisely when she said she read Rachel Ray adversarially.
That is, did she mean she read it as an adversary of Trollope or
the whole of the novel or some specific themes or inferences
she takes away from it? I admit I am alway puzzled by such
large generalised words.
So maybe I am misunderstanding but think that John Mize's comment
in reply is somewhat mine:
My difference is that I see these asides everywhere. Trollope is constantly
undercutting and showing us the appalling side of many of these people.
That he shows us their essential humanity makes him a realist. In fact
evil is banal (as has too often been said); to quote Pogo, we have
met the enemy and he is us. In his own time the book was seen as
sharply ironic and unacceptable to precisely those readers whose
lives it mirrors: the readers of Good Words. If Trollope had not
himself put all this dark underside, unpleasantness, and sharp indications
of bigotry, fear, prejudice, and ignorance into the book, they would
not be there for us to pick up. I think he did dislike much that
he pictures in the book. He also accepts it -- I think this is sometimes
called "negative capability." Maybe many of us don't accept it; we
would like something stronger, but then you would have caricature
or satire or something quite different from this quiet little
Austen-like book. Myself I don't accept such things; I really
loathe a great deal what I see in the world, but then I don't write
novels and stay in my house insofar as my world permits me to.
Our discussion has again and again reminded me of a classic essay by
Tolkien on Beowulf. Many critics had just about said (=implied)
how astonishing it is such a moral imbecile should write such a
tragic deeply felt poem which presents a serious and accurate
portrait of Anglo-Saxon life through the epic form. Tolkien's reply
is that subtle masterpieces are not written by moral fools and
the Beowulf poet knew what he was doing or the poem would be an
incoherent mess. I would here instance a typical student essay.
Now many of them are indeed unconscious of what they do and
their work shows it. Oh boy does it show it. I don't say anyone
of us has said Trollope is a fool but we ought to give him credit
for so beautifully weaving in all those undersides to make a
gem of a work of art. He may be another adversary too -- the
Rev Mr MacCleod certainly thought so. In his letters one
is continually seeing his editors toning things down, asking
him to change this or that (pul - lease) or downright rejecting
something as unacceptable to the public. I always remember what
a lesson he was taught when his great frankly dark book, The
Macdermots of Ballycloran fell dead from the press and he
was mocked as having created a "Mount Misery" for everyone
to contemplate; also Skilton's work which goes far to show that
Trollope's wonderful reputation and sales declined after he
stopped writing the similarly apparently sunny Barsetshire
series.
Ellen Moody
From: John Mize I found Trollope's discription of Luke as a typical Radical
interesting. According to Trollope most Radicals were not republicans at
heart. They wanted the working men to prosper, but they had no intention to
abolish the aristocracy or monarchy. That sounds odd to me. Was that
wishful thinking on Trollope's part? I remember that in his biography of
Thackeray Trollope criticized Thackeray's being too hard on the rich and
powerful. He went on to say that at bottom Thackeray was something of a
republican. I had the impression that Trollope saw Thackeray's possible
republican tendencies as something of a character flaw. I remember reading
that in one of Trollope's political novels he had a troublemaking demogogue
named Turnbull who most people thought was based on John Bright. Trollope
said something to the effect that while Turnbull's politics were Bright's,
his character was not.
Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
Subject: RRay: Ch 16-20: [Complaints and Fascination]
Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
Thilde and Mike Fox
mailto:tfox@mofet.macam98.ac.il
Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
Ellen
"the women in Rachel Ray defer to the men...Maybe
this was really the way it was or seemed to be in a tiny provincial
town and village?
I'm sure that it was. Women were certainly expected to defer to men, and
the ideal woman was the domestic, nurturing, self-sacrificing Angel of the
House. In their own way all three Bronte sisters declared war against the
Angel, and for that reason, all were attacked as unnatural, unfeminine, etc.
The majority of the attacks were, of course, against Charlotte, since Anne
and Emily were more ignored than castigated. I am glad to see Trollope was
on Charlotte's side."
Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
"I agree with Ellen that RR is not a dark book, but even when
Trollope is extolling the virtues of small town life, he doesn't completely neglect its
dark, slimy underbelly. He throws in these little asides which subvert the
general sunniness."
Subject: TROL Trol: RR: Trollope and the Radicals
Sender: owner-trollope-l@smtp.teleport.com
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