Browsing in a bookstore, I read a blurb of this book that told every secret twist of its plot. I was enraged, but read 'Cousin Henry' anyway. It was superb, and illustrates perfectly Trollope's own philosophy, given in 'Barchester Towers,' that a good book will not suffer even from the reader knowing what happens. 'Cousin Henry' has other, and considerable, merits, than suspensefulness--although it is suspenseful. It has been called the most psychologically probing of Trollope's works; indeed, Trollope himself thought it to be so, and was very proud of it. The plot, in brief, and without giving anything away, is this: Cousin Henry is the heir of the Squire of Llanfeare--according to the will everyone knows about. But Henry knows of another, later, will, that disinherits him. Most of the book concerns Henry's agonizing over whether or not to make this will public. There is also another plot thread, concerning the Squire's daughter, Isabel, who can only marry if her husband is willing to take her last name (shades of 'Cecilia'). I'll say it again: one of Trollope's best.

"Dr. Thorne" is the third in the series of Barsetshire novels by Anthony Trollope. But unlike the first two, this has little to do with the politics of the Church of England. It is the tale of two lovers from different classes, and their struggle to keep their love alive in spite of social pressures to go their own ways. Unlike the first two novels, the plot starts out very slowly, with long descriptions of the history and conditions of the fictional "Greshamsbury" estate. The author even apologizes about 30 pages in for trying the patience of his readers.

While "Dr. Thorne" lacks the crispness and economy of the first two novels ("The Warden" and "Barchester Towers"), it builds to a satisfying conclusion, and the author paints his usual precise characterizations.

If you are a fan of Anthony Trollope, be patient with this one. You will be rewarded.

Mary Thorne, orphaned (and illegitimate) niece of Dr. Thorne, has long been a favorite at Greshamsbury House--until Lady Arabella Gresham learns that her only son Frank is in love with Mary. The unhappy Mary is banished forthwith, because the Gresham family fortunes are so depleted that Frank must marry money.

Frank, however, is one of the few completely honorable young men in Trollope's novels and remains stubbornly true to his love. Well, he does propose to another woman, at the insistence of his mother, but only with the virtual certainty that he will be rejected--as indeed he is. The lady is Miss Dunstable, one of Trollope's most delightful characters, a fabulously wealthy thirtyish heiress of an ointment company. She is a bold, witty woman, not beautiful, but attractive in her way, whose wealth invites countless proposals.

After the rather complicated plot unfolds, the tables are completely turned, and Mary is eagerly welcomed by Lady Arabella (who, of course, has always loved her) as the savior of the family.

I concede that "The Last Chronicle of Barset" is the best of the Barsetshire novels, but I dearly love "Dr. Thorne." The character of the doctor himself is strong and sympathetic. Frank, Mary, Miss Dunstable, Lady Arabella, Sir Roger Scatcherd, and such minor characters as Dr. Thorne's rival, Dr. Fillgrave (one of Trollope's punnily named characters), form a superb cast. And the outcome is thoroughly satisfying. I probably enjoyed reading this novel more than any of the others.

As time passes, the novels of Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) seem to gain in freshness, stature and influence. He lived long enough to see his modest reputation fade, in contrast to that of many of his famous novelist contemporaries. Nowadays the situation seems to be reversing.

Of special merit, amongst his huge output, are the so-called Barsetshire ("clerical") novels, and the so-called Palliser ("political") novels. Of the former, the last and longest is "The Last Chronicle of Barset". Not only are there fresh concerns, complications and current affairs introduced here, but there are also fond and final appearances of people and places encountered in the earlier Barsetshire novels. Everybody's favourite literary virago, Mrs Proudie, is again denouncing and dominating everybody. Trollope even contrives to create a character who has the temerity to say to her, "Peace, Woman!"

There are the innumerable characters of marriageable age, whose names are perhaps more memorable than their characters, whose charming dialogues and relationship problems are deftly laid out and interwoven. Above all, there is master story-teller Anthony Trollope, admitting finally that for him Barset has been a real place, a place where he as been induced to wander too long by his "love of old friendships, and by the sweetness of old faces".

Superb TV and radio adaptations of Trollope's Barsetshire novels have appeared in recent years. His novels read aloud well, too, and audio cassette readings, some of them unabridged, can provide endless hours of rich listening pleasure.

THE LAST CHRONICLE OF BARSET is one of the great novels in the English language, and yet it is not widely read. The reason for this is obvious: it is the LAST novel in the Barsetshire series of novels, and a relatively small number make it all the way through the previous five volumes. This is a shame, because while all the previous novels are quite excellent and thoroughly entertaining, the final novel in the series is a work of an entirely different level of magnitude.

This novel is also one of the darkest that Trollope wrote. The moral dilemma in which Crawley finds himself would seem to belong more readily to the world of Dostoevsky than Victorian England.

Can this novel be read on its own, without reading the novels that precede it? Yes, but I do feel that it is best read after working through the other books in the series first. This is hardly an unfortunate situation, since all the books in the series are superb (with the exception of the first novel, THE WARDEN, which, while nice, is merely a prelude to the far superior five novels that came after it). Many of the characters in THE LAST CHRONICLE appeared first as characters in the other novels, and the central character of the book, Crawley, himself appeared earlier.

Trollope is...one of the most entertaining writers the English language has produced. At this point I have read around 20 of his novels, and fully intend to read more. But of all his books, this one might be his finest. The only two that I feel are close to the same level are his incredible books THE WAY WE LIVE NOW and HE KNEW HE WAS RIGHT (possibly the finest work on excessive jealousy since OTHELLO). Anyone who loves the English novel owes it to him or herself to read as many of these volumes as possible. My recommendation would be to read first the six novels in the Barsetshire Chronicles, and then to move on to the other two novels I mentioned. If still hooked, then try his other major series of novels, variously known as the Political novels or the Palliser novels or the Parliamentary novels, which begin with CAN YOU FORGIVE HER?

How one man could hold in his mind so much of his age, and then relate it back to us peopled with so many and varied characters in--how many? 20?-- interconnected novels of surpassing richness of detail and sagacity of moral observation, is a great mystery of human psychology.

"The Last Chronicle of Barset" is surely one of the most successful and satisfying of the whole Barset and Palliser series, illustrating perhaps better than any of the former Trollope's admirable gift for creating multi-dimensional characters that are as recognizable to us today as they were in his time.

Rascals and confusion, Trollope wrote with all the elements that excited that of readers from the Victorian Era, and that can also excite ones from our age.

One of the brightest lights of the Palliser novels is extinguished in the first chapter with the death of the Duchess Glencora. Bereft of her vivacious influence the grieving Duke, already reserved and traditional, sinks into stodginess. Far worse than this, he is left with three young adult children whom he fails completely to understand. To say that they cause him many heartaches is to greatly understate the situation.

The eldest, heir to the title, Lord Silverbridge has already been booted out of Oxford for a silly prank. Now he goes into horse racing with questionable companions and winds up as the victim of a major scandal, which costs his father a huge sum. Next he deserts his father's choice for his bride to woo an American girl whose grandfather was a laborer.

The Duke's daughter, Mary, wants to marry a commoner, son of a country squire, a good man, but with no title and little money. The outraged Duke is adamantly opposed to such a match, but Mary vows to marry no other and is constantly miserable.

The youngest son, Gerald, who plays a relatively minor role in the novel, is forced to leave Cambridge because he was away without permission attending a race in which his brother's horse was running. Later he loses several thousand pounds in a card game.

The Duke bemoans his children's foolishness and their lack of respect for the traditions of their fathers. He pays for their mistakes, but vigorously opposes the two unwise marriages. But although he is a strict, authoritarian man, he is also a compassionate and loving father. Will he yield to the fervent desires of his rebellious offspring? The resolution of this clash of generations brings the Palliser novels to a satisfying conclusion.

As always, it is Trollope's great gift of characterization which makes THE DUKE'S CHILDREN an outstanding novel. From the outwardly firm but inwardly doubting Duke to the very sincere but frequently erring Silverbridge to the tragic Lady Mabel Grex, who has the young heir in her grasp only to let him slip away, these are well-rounded figures with whom the reader lives intimately and comes to understand thoroughly. With the perfectly depicted ambience of upper-class Victoriana as the setting, this novel is an absorbing work of genius.

Despite the criticisms levelled at Trollope for his "authorial intrusions" (see Henry James for example) this novel is always a pleasure to read. The characters take precedence over the plot, as in any Trollopian fiction and this is what makes a novel like BARCHESTER more palatable to the modern reader, as compared to any of Dickens's. Some readers may find the ecclesiastical terms confusing at first but with a little help (see the Penguin introduction for example), all becomes clear. What is important, however, is the interaction between the all-too-human characters and in this novel there are plenty of situations to keep you, the reader, amused.

Do yourself a favour and take a trip back into Nineteenth century where technology is just a blink in everyone's eye. What you will discover, however, is that human beings have not really changed, just the conventions have.

"Barchester Towers" has proven to be the most popular novel Anthony Trollope ever wrote-despite the fact that most critics would rank higher his later work such as "The Last Chronicle of Barset","He Knew He Was Right" and "The Way We Live Now".While containing much satire those great novels are very powerful and disturbing, and have little of the genial good humor that pervades "Barchester Towers".Indeed after "Barchester Towers",Trollope would never write anything so funny again-as if comedy was something to be eschewed.That is too bad,because the book along with its predecessor "The Warden" are the closest a Victorian novelist ever came to approximating Jane Austen."Barchester Towers" presents many unforgettable characters caught in a storm of religious controversy,political and social power struggles and romantic and sexual imbroglios.All of this done with a light but deft hand that blends realism,idealism and some irresistible comedy.It has one of the greatest endings in all of literature-a long,elaborate party at a country manor(which transpires for about a hundred pages)where all of the plot's threads are inwoven and all of the character's intrigues come to fruition."Barchester Towers" has none of the faults common to Trollope's later works -(such as repetiveness)it is enjoyable from beginning to end.Henry James(one of our best novelists,but not one of our best critics) believed that Trollope peaked with "The Warden"and that the subsequent work showed a falling off as well as proof that Trollope was no more than a second rate Thackeray.For the last fifty years critics have been trying to undo the damage that was done to Trollope's critical reputation."Barchester Towers"proves not only to be a first rate novel but probably the most humorous Victorian novel ever written.

This is the second of the six Barsetshire novels, and the first great novel in that series. THE WARDEN, while pleasant, primarily serves as a prequel to this novel. To be honest, if Trollope had not gone on to write BARCHESTER TOWERS, there would not be any real reason to read THE WARDEN. But because it introduces us to characters and situations that are crucial to BARCHESTER TOWERS, one really ought to have read THE WARDEN before reading this novel.

Trollope presents a dilemma for most readers. On the one hand, he wrote an enormous number of very good novels. On the other hand, he wrote no masterpieces. None of Trollope's books can stand comparison with the best work of Jane Austen, Flaubert, Dickens, George Eliot, Tolstoy, or Dostoevsky. On the other hand, none of those writers wrote anywhere near as many excellent as Trollope did. He may not have been a very great writer, but he was a very good one, and perhaps the most prolific good novelist who ever lived. Conservatively assessing his output, Trollope wrote at least 20 good novels. Trollope may not have been a genius, but he did possess a genius for consistency.

So, what to read? Trollope's wrote two very good series, two other novels that could be considered minor classics, and several other first rate novels. I recommend to friends that they try the Barsetshire novels, and then, if they find themselves hooked, to go on to read the Political series of novels (sometimes called the Palliser novels, which I feel uncomfortable with, since it exaggerates the role of that family in most of the novels). The two "minor classics" are THE WAY WE LIVE NOW and HE KNEW HE WAS RIGHT. The former is a marvelous portrait of Victorian social life, and the latter is perhaps the finest study of human jealousy since Shakespeare's OTHELLO. BARSETSHIRE TOWERS is, therefore, coupled with THE WARDEN, a magnificent place, and perhaps the best place to enter Trollope's world.

There are many, many reasons to read Trollope. He probably is the great spokesperson for the Victorian Mind. Like most Victorians, he is a bit parochial, with no interest in Europe, and very little interest in the rest of the world. Despite THE AMERICAN SENATOR, he has few American's or colonials in his novels, and close to no foreigners of any type. He is politically liberal in a conservative way, and is focussed almost exclusively on the upper middle class and gentry. He writes a good deal about young men and women needing and hoping to marry, but with a far more complex approach than we find in Jane Austen. His characters are often compelling, with very human problems, subject to morally complex situations that we would not find unfamiliar. Trollope is especially good with female characters, and in his sympathy for and liking of very independent, strong females he is somewhat an exception of the Victorian stereotype.

Anyone wanting to read Trollope, and I heartily believe that anyone who loves Dickens, Austen, Eliot, Hardy, and Thackery will want to, could find no better place to start than with reading the first two books in the Barsetshire Chronicles, beginning first with the rather short THE WARDEN and then progressing to this very, very fun and enjoyable novel.

There is a lot to like about this book. It has the usual host of colorful and varied characters that one finds in Trollope's novels. There are strong and complex women, sturdy and weak-willed men, and some wonderful set-pieces. It's a bit of a let-down after _Phineas Finn_, though, which to my mind is the greatest political novel in the English language. The previous two 'Palliser' novels having been clearly both for and about Liberals, I think that Trollope was struggling in this novel to write in a way that would both reflect and appeal to more Conservative sensibilities. So we get a lot of domestic gossip, a little mild anti-semitism, and endless lectures about the Proper way for a Gentleman to Behave to a Lady. Still, the protagonist, Lizzie Eustace, is a gem.

Lucy Morris is a bore. If you like Jane Austen you will like this novel! It has all the necessary ingredients to keep you turning the pages. It's fun and charming to read just like its heroine Lizzie Eustace. Trollope argues that she is no heroine at all but it is when she appears that your interest is held the longest and that you laugh the loudest. She is wicked and selfish and vain and yet childike spoiled and that's what makes her great. Lucy Morris in comparison bores you with her goodness and her morality and her prim and proper attitude which although greatly admired in 19th century women leaves her nonetheless dull and insipid in comparison to charmingly wicked Lizzie.

I have only read one Anthony Trollope novel, and I had the very good fortune of having chosen "The Eustace Diamonds." This superbly constructed novel begins with what is probably my favorite opening sentence of a novel--it's right up there with the opening sentence to Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice":

"It was admitted by all her friends, and also by her enemies--who were in truth the more numerous and active body of the two--that Lizzie Greystock had done very well with herself." The second sentence further clarifies Lizzie's character when it goes on with, "We will tell the story of Lizzie Greystock from the beginning, but we will not dwell over it at great length, as we might do if we loved her."

Lizzie Greystock--eventually to become Lady Eustace--is a fascinating combination of cunning and foolishness, of avarice and pitiable character, of steely backbone and whimpering fits. She reminds me so very much of both Emma Bovary and Scarlett O'Hara. Her determination to keep the Eustace family diamonds entirely for herself is what sets the novel in motion, and with this rather simple device, Trollope goes on to spin out a tale which encompasses morality, greed, Victorian social mores, the corrupting influence of money, and the blindness it can cause to everything else of value.

Lizzie is contrasted, with every shade under the sun, with the sweet and constant Lucy Morris. Picture the contrast as one very much like that of Scarlett O'Hara and Melanie Wilkes. "The Eustace Diamonds" is a deliciously satisfying book, and a classic for a very good reason: despite having been written in the 19th century, what it has to say reverberates as soundly now as when Trollope first published it. I can't recommend it highly enough.

The Enron collapse shows that, as long as we continue to enjoy the benefits of capitalism in the West, Trollope's most famous novel will continue to be timely. This has often been called Trollope's best novel: while it does not contain his best writing (which would be found in individual chapters of PHINEAS FINN and THE LAST CHRONICLER OF BARSET), nor is it his funniest (BARCHESTER TOWERS), it is his most consistently engaging in its details of a railway bubble in mid-Victorian London. The great financier at the center of it, Augustus Melmotte, rises from obscurity to be asked to host a dinner for the visiting emperor of China (which forms a splendid setpiece for the novel) on the eve of his financial ruin. The novel is very exciting and enjoyable, and shows Trollope straining the hardest to meet the standards set by his admitted hero, Thackeray; although this certainly doesn't meet the level of VANITY FAIR, it's still pretty good. There is a bit of a trouble that Trollope has too many subplots going and winds up spending hundreds of pages at the end (long after the work's main action is over) having to resolve them. One of the very best of these ongoing stories, the desperate attempts of the contemptibly snobbish (but still oddly sympathetic) Georgiana Longstaffe to find a husband, is as a result resolved much too suddenly and unsatisfactorily. I would still recommend THE WAY WE LIVE NOW as a fine read--and as a very splendid introduction to Trollope.

This work of literature encompassing life among the upper-crust of society in Victorian England is by far the best fictional representation I have ever read.

Trollope creates fantastic characters from the saintly/virginal society girl who pines for a lover, to a dastardly gentleman who squanders his families small fortune on rather unsavoury habits such as gambling and less than scrupulous women.

Most of this is told through the perspective of the matriarch of one family (Lady Carbury) who's only wish is that her son (a scoundrel at best) marry well and with any luck above his station (which he tries to sabotage at every turn) and for her daughter to marry into wealth at any cost whatsoever. That with the general gossip and the "Newcomer's from Paris" (The Family Melmotte) who left Paris hurriedly it seems under a rather dark cloud of suspicion will keep you glued to this book throughout. It is a very lengthy novel (481 pages) but you will be desperately turning the pages in the Appendix hoping for just a bit more!

Picture a world in which a shadowy entreprenour rubs shoulders with the great and powerful, while hard-driving yuppies stop at nothing to be associated with his schemes. Sounds like Ron Reagan's "Morning in America," doesn't it? Except it is Victorian London. The entreprenour is Auguste Melmotte. The yuppies are the scions of great and small families hurling themselves at his daughter, his phantasmagorical railway (between Salt Lake City and Vera Cruz yet!) company, and the hem of his cloak. And the book is Anthony Trollope's THE WAY WE LIVE NOW.

Like all of Trollope's books, this one is as well crafted as any by Eliot or Thackeray; yet the theme and handling are strikingly modern. I came to this book by way of the Barsetshire novels with their depiction of rural clergy. I should have read THE WAY WE LIVE NOW first.

Especially worth noting are the surprisingly full characterizations of Marie Melmotte, daughter of the financier, who is courted by her emotional inferiors, and Roger Carbury, a rural landowner who holds aloof from the fray and helps several of the others pick up the pieces from their lives.

The only negative is the book's anti-semitism, though it makes several attempts to lift itself from this charge.

All merits of the novel itself aside (and I did enjoy it very much), this edition seems to have been cobbled together either hastily or carelessly. It was full of errors in punctuation and spelling (including inconsistent spelling of characters' names) which I can hardly believe are the author's. It was a disappointment to me, especially given the fine tradition of the Everyman Library.

Also, the notes on the text, as is unfortunately so common, give away major plot points. I would strongly advise anyone reading for pleasure rather than scholarship skip the notes, or read them only once you've finished the book.

That said, Phineas Finn was a wonderful read. I began Trollope with Can You Forgive Her?, and while I did like it, I liked Phineas so much more. Unlike many male novelists of the period (especially those who were, as Trollope, embraced at the time), he demonstrates a sympathy for and understanding of the difficult choices presented to the women of his time, and does not shrink from presenting women who are intelligent, complex, and quite at home in the political world of London. Lady Laura Standish, Miss Violet Effingham, and Madame Max Goesler might each have been the heroines of their own novels--indeed, their complexities and the depths of their emotional and political lives throw Phineas's own lack of depth and complexity into relief. And by that I don't mean that Trollope nodded while writing his hero, but that he rather deftly endowed him with indifferent qualities as compared to the women his life.

I wouldn't give away the ending of the novel, but I confess I was a little disappointed in Phineas's final choice. Trollope was, after all, a Victorian gentleman, and perhaps he must be forgiven for wrapping up his hero's adventures in what seemed to me rather a prosaic way. I have yet to read Phineas Redux, and perhaps that sequel may redeem Mr. Finn yet.

Graham Greene writes in one of his novels of a troubled person who relaxes from work-related stress by reading Anthony Trollope on the weekends. Why? Nothing happens. The writing is peaceful, serene, and very proper.

"Phineas Finn" is the second volume in the famous "Palliser" series, and it is a typical Anthony Trollope novel. Trollope's style is so refined and polished that one really doesn't mind reading a 700+ page book just to learn of the commonplace events that serve the purpose of plot and character development in his novels. This book will not give one any great insight into the human mind or soul, but it will entertain with its delightful description of Victorian manners and morals. As seems typical of many 19th century English novels the triumvirate of love, marriage, and money drives the main events of the story. The mating dance of love is primly and at times ironically portrayed as it plays out in drawing rooms, dinner parties, and visits to country estates. Phineas Finn, upon completing his education, is offered the opportunity to run for Parliament, and gets elected. Considerable space in the novel is dedicated to the nuts and bolts of 19th century British politics (a possible drawback for contemporary American readers). Members of the House of Commons serve their districts without compensation. Phineas, alas, is not wealthy. This lack of personal wealth is the catalyst for many of Phineas' subsequent actions. Phineas embarks on a search for love, a suitable wife, and financial means. He is drawn to several women. Mary Flood Jones, Lady Laura Standish, Violet Effingham, and Madame Marie Goesler at different times engage his romantic interest. The most interesting of these women is Marie Goesler, an independently minded widow of means. She is German, her late husband was Austrian, and many of the stuffy Victorian rules about a woman's proper place don't suit her personality. As this is only the second volume of the Palliser series, we will see more of Madame Goesler. She has already enchanted the Duke of Omnium, an elderly nobleman who is Plantagenet Palliser's uncle. Palliser and his wife, Lady Glencora, are the main characters of the series, but only play a minor role in this book.

"Phineas Finn" has the delighful charm of a fine old painting or a piece of carefully preserved antique china. It's light weight, but entertaining. It charms with its grace. The pace is leisurely. Reading this novel is an escape in time to another world. A world apart from cell phones, cable TV, and all the rest of noisy modern life. One can quietly relax while dozing in the twilight of this peaceful book.

PHINEAS FINN is a book of many virtues and one unfortunate flaw. The flaw lies in the ending, of which I can say nothing here without giving away a bit of the plot. Let me just say that the ending is a bit of a "tack on." Trollope himself confessed in his AUTOBIOGRAPHY that he botched the ending, and explains that when he decided to write a second novel starring Phineas Finn, he awkwardly had to correct the mistakes he made in the ending of the previous book.

The virtues of the book lie in part in its presentation of the social complexities of the British upper class in 1860s. While a political history of the period could explain the various ins and outs of the major pieces of legislation dealt with at the time, Trollope shows us how many individuals at the time actually felt about these issues from the inside. In this way, Trollope performs a service that no historian ever could. Virtually all the major political figures of the time, from Gladstone to Disraeli appear under thinly veiled aliases.

But the true heart of the book is Trollope's great characters. I absolutely love Jane Austen. She is one of my two or three favorite writers. But sometimes I find the enormous propriety of her characters to be a tad tiring. In these way her characters, as magnificent as they otherwise might be, sometimes seem a little less than fully human. Trollope's characters, on the other hand, often fail to act with complete propriety. They do improper things, and feel improper emotions. Our hero falls in love with one woman, then another, feels attraction to another, and falls in love with yet another, and in general fails in his role as a great romantic hero. A woman marries someone she doesn't love, yet retains feelings for another, and suffers from the threat of a bad marriage. Another woman is attracted to two men, and must decide which. Two close friends love the same woman. I find all this emotional complexity to be extremely compelling.

Trollope's most compelling and interesting characters are nearly all female. In the book, Lord Chiltern seems cardboardish and unbelievable, the title character likable but not terribly vivid. But whenever Lady Laura, or Madame Goesler, or Violet Effingham take the stage, the novel comes to life. This is not unique to this novel. In nearly all his books, Trollope's most compelling characters are female.

If we could give half stars, I would give this one four and a half stars because of the weak ending. But I will stick with five rather than four, partly because the rest of the book easily makes up for the weakish ending, and one can view the excellent PHINEAS REDUX as the real ending of the novel. Either way, I heartily recommend the novel.