Trollope. Gender. Victorian era. Magazines. See how Mark W. Turner masterfully meshes all of the above in a brilliantly cohesive discourse.

Anthony Trollope is an English writer of the Victorian period most well-known for his unbelievably prolific fiction. So both the reader of Victorian literature and also the classicist may be somewhat surprised to find here a passionate defense of the 1st-century BC orator and statesman Cicero. This is all the more surprising because Trollope wrote at a time when Cicero was under attack, especially from German classicists. In these two volumes, however, Trollope discusses Cicero's speeches, compares Cicero's life to that of contemporary Romans, and decides that Cicero was a great man and a patriot whose reputation should be defended. Although Trollope may be a little over-lenient regarding the orator's famous pride and bombast, his glowing assessment is (ironically) closer to some modern views than that of his contemporaries who lambasted Cicero from their positions as professional classicists. I heartily recommend the set to Trollope enthusiasts and to Cicero partisans, but the average reader of Victorian literature may find the classical dicussions uninteresting, while the average classicist may not be satisfied with Trollope's non-scholarly approach.

I READ THIS AS A SHORT STORY IN A LARGER COLLECTION. IT IS TYPICAL OF ALL TROLLOPE SHORT TALES - IT HAS A PLOT, MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, MUCH PHILOSOPHY ABOUT LOVE AND LIFE, AND HAS A MEANINGFUL CONCLUSION. TOO MANY SHORT STORIES JUST SEEM TO BE MOOD PIECES AND WANDER. NOT TROLLOPE! THIS STORY CONCERNS THE LOVE BETWEEN A MAN AND WOMAN AND HOW OTHER FACTORS - FAMILY AND SOCIETAL NEEDS AND MORES - EXERT AN INFLUENCE - USUALLY DETRIMENTAL. HOWEVER, IN THE END, TRUE LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS, NOT WHAT OTHERS THINK, THE FAMILIES DESIRE, OR SOCIETY DICTATES. IF YOU LOVE TROLLOPE, READ ALICE DUGDALE.

This was an interesting, if imperfect, novel of marriage. The main thrust of the novel has to do with a legal battle a COuntess and her daughter, Lady Anna, engage in to assert their legal rights after having been abused by an evil Earl, who married and abandoned the Countess. To assert these rights, a demand is made by the mother to the daughter that she wed her cousin, although no one guesses that Anna is already engaged to the poor tailor who has been her one true friend in life.

I enjoyed many aspects of the novel, primarily how the mother-daughter relationship plays out. The subplot of the book is that we all must separate from Mother, and make our own way, our own decisions. This Mother is especially hard-hearted and single-minded and acts very melodramatically in one scene to the tailor (a really weird, overblown scene I could have lived without and which was incidentally, albeit unintentionally, funny).

Anna herself is a character with many virtues. She Almost gives in but does not do so because she is guided by an internal voice of loyalty. Her love on the other hand is drawn realistically if not in a flattering way. Daniel is almost an anti-hero. Not entirely sympathetic, you learn to like him because he seems real. The 'triangle' between those two and Lord Lovel is well-depicted, and no character comes off as 'the baddie.'

Another aspect I respected was the depiction of law, and how society restrains its denizens into conventional and superficial marriages. I disagree with the previous reviewer who said this was a light novel. I think there are very dark moments and a suspicion about the characters' motives at every turn. Yet, there is decency in many characters: Anna herself and the Solicitor-General being the obvious ones.

I liked this immensely, despite it being overlong and having some over-the-top moments that did not 'go' with the rest of the novel. Still, the novel has great style.

Anthony Trollope declared once that "Lady Anna" was "the best novel I ever wrote". Readers did not agree. Appearing between the masterpieces "Phineas Redux" and "The Way We Live Now", it sold poorly and has been neglected ever since. Trollope blamed this failure on his audience's objections to the heroine's choice of a husband, though similar complaints, much more vehemently expressed, had not sunk "The Small House at Allington". (There Lily Dale remains faithful to the memory of a cad, scorning the devoted attentions of a worthy suitor. Anna's wooers, by contrast, are both good men, though vastly different in rank and personality.)

"Lady Anna" is, in fact, a well-knit narrative with more suspense than is usual for Trollope. Will the courts declare Anna to be Lady Anna Lovel, heiress to 35,000 pounds a year, or merely Anna Murray, a pauper? Which of her suitors, the sometimes surly tailor Daniel Thwaite or her handsome, good-natured cousin Lord Lovel, will Anna prefer? Will Daniel's political principles lead to a breach with his childhood sweetheart? Will the impoverished Lord Lovel find honorable means to support his noble rank? The plot takes surprising, if not astonishing, turns; the characterization is as deft as ever; and there is a leavening of subtle humor, such as Daniel's cross-purposes consultation with a quondam radical poet (a thinly disguised Robert Southey) who has evolved into an intractable Tory.

The book's weakness is that the leading characters are, by and large, decent folk at the beginning and, except for one who falls into a state akin to madness, remain decent, if not unchanged, to the end. Conflicts end in rational compromises. Everybody eventually sees everybody else's point of view. Even the lawyers on opposite sides of Lady Anna's case get along amicably. (One solicitor does have the sense to grumble that such harmony is unprofessional.)

Trollope's liking for this novel may have arisen from the fact that it is light, sunny and fresh. There may be an evil earl in the first chapter and a mad countess in the last, but how pleasant for the writer to be free for a time from the political intrigues, financial manipulations and cynical worldliness of the Palliser saga and "The Way We Live Now"! Moreover, "Lady Anna" was, in its creator's mind, only a prologue. The last paragraph promises a (never written) sequel, where the characters doubtless were intended to meet sterner challenges. There are hints that the scene would have shifted to Australia and America and that the hero's and heroine's homegrown principles were to be put to the test in those lands. Thus the author had much in view that he never disclosed to his readers, perhaps accounting for part of the discrepancy between his opinion and theirs.

No one who has not read all of the Palliser and Barset novels, not to mention "The Way We Live Now", should pick up "Lady Anna". I recommend it immediately after the last-named. It will cleanse the palate and leave a lingering regret that the rest of Anna's and Daniel's and Lord Lovel's adventures will never be known.

Incidental note: The introduction to the Oxford World's Classics edition, the one that I am reviewing, is an extraordinarily silly example of lit crit bafflegab. Don't read it before reading the novel. Read afterwards, its wrong-headed ideological interpretations may prove amusing.

Ayala's Angel is much lighter and more lyric than many of Trollope's novels. Ayala is a dreamer, and Trollope wants us to respect her for that. The pace and the humor are typical Trollope. I enjoyed it very much, though it's hardly his most profound commentary.

Trollope wrote this very short novel (only about 45,000 words) for the Christmas issue of a London magazine. Regarding Victorian sentimentality about the holiday as "humbug", he presented a very different sort of Yuletide tale, one in which there are no snow flakes and no sleigh bells - and in which fires are not cozy but frightening.

The hero is a prosperous young sheep rancher in Queensland, where December is the hottest, driest month of the year, when a careless match can spark a ruinous blaze and in a few hours wipe out all that a man has built through years of labor.

Careless matches are not the only danger. Harry has just as much fear of malicious ones. He is an imperious ruler of his domain (120,000 acres leased from the Crown) and prides himself on his unflinching candor. Not surprisingly, he is at feud with his shiftless, thieving neighbors, the Brownbie clan, and is quite willing to quarrel with Giles Medlicot, another neighbor, when Medlicot hires on a hand whom Harry has dismissed for insubordination and suspects of plotting arson.

In other Trollope novels, "war to the knife" means snubbing an enemy in the street or not inviting him to a garden party. In this one, conflict is simpler and more violent. With the grass growing more parched by the hour, Harry's enemies gather, scheme and strike. Because Trollope is not a tragedian, they are thwarted - narrowly - and there is even a Christmas dinner to conclude the story and incidentally seal a budding romance. But the pacing and atmosphere are very different from the Trollope that readers expect.

The picture of a frontier society, living almost in a Hobbesian "state of nature", is vivid, and the moral consequences of that state are clearly drawn. Harry's refusal to compromise with what he believes to be wrong is a principle that can be safely followed only where the structures of law and order offer shelter. Where a man must be his own constable, high principle is a dangerous luxury. The appearance of two colonial policemen at the end, as helpless to punish the malefactors as they were to forestall them, underlines the impotence of the law and perhaps reminded Trollope's audience of the excellence of their own social arrangements.

Alert members of that audience will perhaps have noticed that Queensland displays ironic inversions of English certitudes. Most notably, Harry leases his land and _therefore_ considers himself socially much above Medlicot, who has purchased his. In the home country, of course, a land owner who farmed his property (Medlicot is a sugar grower) would have looked severely down upon a man who kept livestock on rented pastures.

Unfortunately, despite its excellent qualities, "Harry Heathcote" suffers a defect that reduces it to the Trollopian second class (albeit that is no low place to be). In so short a work, nothing should be wasted, and too many words are wasted here on a perfunctory romance, one of the least interesting that Trollope ever devised. Medlicot's courtship of Harry's sister-in-law not only adds nothing to the narrative but is positively detrimental, as it gives the neighbor a self-interested motive for his decision to take Harry's side against the Brownbie conspiracy rather than maintain a "fair-minded" neutrality.

Anyone who has never read Trollope should not begin here, but the author's fans will not regret passing a few hours with him in the Australian bush.

This is the first book in Trollope's 6 part Barchester series. While the subject matter, the intrigues surrounding clerical life in a fictional English cathedral town, might put you off, don't let it. Trollope wrote fantastic characters. While it's sequel, Barchester Towers, is even better, this is an excellent short introduction both to the series and to Trollope's writing as a whole. (Incidentally, the BBC TV series `Barchester Chronicles' is a really good adaptation of both `The Warden' and `Barchester Towers'.)

This is a simple, short novel dealing with the ethical dilemma of a virtuous man. The Reverend Harding is the warden of a small home providing quarters for 12 retired, indigent workers. The facility is provided for by a trust set up by its founder over two hundred years ago. Income off the land provides revenue for the maintenance of the home and a living for the warden.. The warden has traditionally been the benefactor of this income which has increased over the years. The Rev. Harding is a gentle, honest man who has never given thought to his 800 pound annual revenue until a young reformer files suit, claiming the intent of the will is being violated. Harding thinks about the matter and is inclined to resign. The Bishop and Archdeacon argue that he is entitled to the income.

This book certainly would be a good one for a book club read and discussion. The reformer, the lawyers, the church hierarchy and Reverend Harding all have their views on the matter. Author Trollope does not really pass final judgment on his characters; none of them are cast in black and white terms. In fact Trollope makes the unusual move of bringing a criticism of both the press and Charles Dickens into the novel. The press makes strident value judgments about issues without bothering itself with all the facts or considering the effect their articles will have on the people involved; Charles Dickens treats people as being all good or all bad. Indeed, I found myself arguing with myself for several days after reading The Warden. What should the Rev. Harding done? Was the issue shrouded in shades of gray, or was it clear cut one way or the other?

Many critics consider this to be one of Trollope's lesser works, yet to me it is a very interesting, valuable presentation of an ethical dilemma. And for readers who are reluctant to pick up Victorian novels because of their common 700+ page lengths, this is a little gem at less than 300 pages. Criticism? Well I did a bit of eye-rolling during some of the melodramatic passages. All and all, though, this is an excellent read. From an historical standpoint there was considerable attention being paid to clergy income during this period in England. Trollope's tale was very timely in this regard.

One final note. There are many outstanding Victorian novels that I would give a five star rating to. This book doesn't quite fit into that hall of fame so I have given it just 4 stars, which shouldn't be interpreted as a slight to Mr. Trollope or The Warden.

I first read Anthony Trollope's book "The Warden" in 1995 at the age of 54; three years later I had finished all forty-seven Trollope novels, his autobiography, and most of his short stories. "The Warden" provides a necessary introduction to the Barsetshire Novels, which, in turn, provide a marvelous introduction to rural Victorian society, and its religious, political, and social underpinnings. However, "The Warden" is a small literary masterpiece of its own, even though the more popular "Barchester Towers" tends to obscure it. "The Warden" moves slowly, of course, but so did Victorian England; soon the reader is enveloped in a rich world of brilliantly created characters: in the moral dilemma of a charming and innocent man, Reverend Septimus Harding, who is probably the most beloved of all Trollope's characters; in the connivings of Archdeacon Grantly, who will become a significant force in the later Barsetshire novels; in Eleanor, an example of the perfect Victorian woman, a type that appears in many of Trollope's subsequent novels; and in the sanctimonious meddling of John Bold, whose crusade for fairness throws the town into turmoil. In modern terminology, "The Warden" is a "good read" for those readers with patience, a love of 19th century England, and an appreciation of literary style. Trollope's sentences have a truly musical cadence. "The Warden" was Trollope's fourth novel and his first truly successful one. It provides a strong introduction to the other five novels of the Barsetshire series, where the reader will meet a group of fascinating characters, including the Mrs. Proudie (one of Trollope's finest creations), the Reverend Obadiah Slope, and the Grantly family. The reader will soon find that Trollope's well-developed characters soon become "friends," and that the small cathedral town of Barchester becomes a very familiar and fascinating world in itself. It is a wonderful trip through these six novels. (I read all six in about three weeks.) But one must begin with "The Warden." Brew a cup of tea, toast a scone on a quiet evening, and begin the wonderful voyage through Trollope's charming Barchester. When you have finished the six novels, you may, like me, want to commence reading the Palliser series (another six novels) and follow Plantagenet and Glencora Palliser through their triumphs and travails! However, that remains another story.

This novel of Trollope's poses his usual question: will the middle class heroine find true love in spite of various social/emotional conflicts? In this case his poverty-stricken heroine has two suiters and must decide between the one she loves and the one who loves her. The dilemma is a tricky one since the man she loves has culture and wealth and breeding but no strong feelings for her; while the rougher and uncultured man who loves her is truly devoted to her. Trollope has written better paced novels but this one does hold the reader until the solution is reached.

This book is about a young girl called Mally Trenglos. She collects seaweed to sell as manure for her uncle who is now to old to do the job himself. A young man named Barty decides to collect the seaweed himself instead of paying for it. This leads to a disagreement between Barty and Mally. They decide to have a contest to see who can collect the most seaweed. Barty falls in and knocks himself unconcious. Mally saves his life, and as he awakens he asks to see Mally. He thanks her. They then get married and Mally moves in with Barty. I would recommend this book to people who enjoy late 1600 stories and love stories.