Reading Trollope: 'The Warden' chapters 19-21

[vison]

The style is a trifle difficult if you are not used to reading literature from this era. But once you get the rhythm of it, it comes easy.

The Warden is the first of what came to be called the Barchester series, since all of them are set in Barchester or the surrounding countryside. This is the book that put Anthony Trollope on the map, lit'ry-wise.

The Warden, Barchester Towers, The Small House at Allington, Doctor Thorne, Framley Parsonage, and The Last Chronicle of Barset make up this marvelous series. Some characters are met with all the way through. As well, he introduces, in the Last Chronicles, Plantagenet Palliser, who later becomes the male protagonist of the Palliser Series.

Barsetshire is a real place to me, just as real as Thomas Hardy's Wessex or The Shire of JRRT. Some of my most favourite people live in Barsetshire: Archdeacon Grantly (who we first meet in The Warden), Mrs. Bishop Proudie, the vicar of Framley, Lily Dale and Johnny Eames. You just don't know what treats are in store if you go on to read them all!!!!

It is very much worth reading a bit about such "hospitals" as Hiram's, and the medieval system that set them agoin'. And you will never meet any man as lovable as Septimus Harding. Donald Pleasance played him in the BBC adaptation and was wonderful. Alan Rickman played Mr. Slope in the second episode and that should tell you all you need to know about how great it was!!!! I never saw the whole series, but intend to treat myself to the DVDs one of these days.

Trollope wrote many books NOT set in Barsetshire, of course. Three stand out as absolute masterpieces: Orley Farm, The Claverings, and The American Senator. I just hope some of you learn to love them as I do.

[Holbytla]

Funny thing is, I read Dickens pretty much from A-Z and figured the style would be easy for me to adapt to. And it very well may be that it will be easy. Once I get past the first chapter.

[Cerin]

I often have to go back and reread early chapters in order to get the locales and characters straight in my mind.

[themary]

The style is a trifle difficult if you are not used to reading literature from this era. But once you get the rhythm of it, it comes easy.

Wow isn't that the truth! I definitely wasn't ready for the Trollope's style of writing. I find myself having to read slowly in order really see what happening but sometimes I can fly through certain parts.

In any event it's interesting! I need a highlighter so I can make note of the words I am unfamiliar with

How does discussion work? I find at this point I have more questions than anything.

[Voronwë the Faithful]

Questions are definitely a good way to stimulate discussion.

[Holbytla]

Yeah if you ask a question, you may bring to light something someone else was wondering, and answers can give a different perspective than what you had.

I get the gist of what is going on, I am just getting lost in the details a bit. I just need to familiarize myself with the names.

[Cerin]

How does discussion work? I find at this point I have more questions than anything.

Ask away!

There's no set way we do this, anyone can jump right in with whatever comments or questions they have.

[themary]

I've only read Chapters 1 and 2 but I figure I might as well start this discussion off .

So Hiram left money and a place for the 12 men to live in his will which I understand, and the church kind of manipulated the situation in it's favor. I know Harding is giving the men a little more money out of his own pocket but doesn't he see how the church is manipulating the situation?

From what I've gathered Harding is supposed to be affable but I'm not getting that thus far. Perhaps this might change when Bold actually pursues the investigation?

[vison]

Mr. Harding cannot be brought to believe evil of anyone. Particularly of the church to which he has given his life.

It's not "evil" anyway. The terms of Hiram's will are, like many, arguable. Archdeacon Grantly wants Harding to be guided by him, but Mr. Harding, while very gentle and seemingly spineless, will never act against his conscience.

[themary]

Thanks vison

Had I read the third chapter my question I would have been less confused. I mentally kicked myself the entire chapter

I can already tell I'm not going to be a fan of Archdeacon Grantly he's manipulative. I have a feeling that Mr. Harding is going to do a lot of questioning in the up coming chapters. Poor fella.

Would it be wrong to assume (besides the obvious yes it's wrong to assume anything) that Mr. Harding is a bit naive since he wants to see the good in everyone? Does he really not see the real reason he was given the position of precentor to begin with?

[Cerin]

I had to look up quite a few words in these first chapters!

So let me see if I have things straight:

Mr. Hiram established a charity in his will, by which 12 indigent retired laborers of Barchester are given a permanent home.

The provisions of the will were that the precentor of the local cathedral (chosen by the local bishop and in our case, Mr. Harding) will have the option of acting as resident warden of this almshouse, or hospital, and that "a certain sum out of the rents" of Mr. Hiram's properties is to be given to the warden for the maintenance of the house. The warden dispenses a small stipend to the bedesmen out of these funds, and keeps the rest to use as he sees fit (though it's been remarked in passing that the archdeacon, Mr. Harding's son-in-law, is actually controlling what's being done with the money these days). We're told that the original amount specified in the will was increased by agreement of the administrators fifty years before the book's present time so that the bedesmen would have more freedom in the matter of procuring their meals (if I understood that correctly).

The traditional interpretation of the will gave the full proceeds from Mr. Hiram's properties to the wardens, who continued to dispense the same amount to the bedesmen, unadjusted for inflation or the increasing profitability of the properties, the result being that the bedesmen's monetary state remained constant while the wardens' increased substantially over time. Mr. Harding decided to increase the bedesmen's allowance out of his own funds (his stipend as precentor, I assume), as he felt they should be given more but didn't feel comfortable unilaterally modifying the original provisions of the will.

So the issue of the story seems to be the question of whether the distribution of the property funds is just, or fair. On the one hand, there is the view that the otherwise destitute bedesmen should be grateful to be graciously provided for; on the other hand, there is the view that Mr. Hiram intended the income from the properties to be shared equally among the warden and bedesmen, which would result in the bedesmen enjoying a higher station in life. (I can't help wondering if we're ever going to see the actual wording of the will, as I feel that would surely settle the matter).

I'm finding the writing and the characters to be delightful. How delicate are Mr. Harding's sensibilities!

One thing I wasn't expecting was for it to feel so current. There were two things that made me feel as though this could be happening today. One was the reference to Scandal -- which struck me as just the same as our modern-day infotainment piranhas; the other was this passage, from when Mr. Bold was talking with Mr. Harding about the dispensation of the funds:

'Mr. Bold,' said the other, stopping, and speaking with some solemnity, 'if you act justly, say nothing in this matter but the truth, and use no unfair weapons in carrying out your purposes, I shall have nothing to forgive. I presume you think I am not entitled to the income I receive from the hospital, and that others are entitled to it. Whatever some may do, I shall never attribute to you base motives because you hold an opinion opposed to my own, and adverse to my interests: pray do what you consider to be your duty; ...'

This describes in reverse precisely what is wrong with our diseased public dialogue these days (speaking particularly of the US political climate), and exactly the evil that (I believe) certain media hate-mongers have legitimized: namely, that someone having a different opinion entitles you to question their character.

Does he really not see the real reason he was given the position of precentor to begin with?

Could you explain your thoughts a bit more on this point, themary? Do you think there was an ulterior motive in appointing him?

[Primula Baggins]

I have actually read these chapters! But don't have time to discuss yet (deadline tonight), though I have to say (a) I have in fact never read this and (b) I agree with Cerin that there is something comtemporary about it.

I've noticed in other Trollope I've read; I think some of it may be his insight into the characters, which seems "modern" because so many other writers of the times wrote their characters around the roles they were to play and their stations in life, whereas Trollope in many cases seems to have created his plots around his characters. Nothing is forced; they think and act and breathe like real people, even the women.

And I was delighted by the scene where Mr. Harding is playing his cello for the bedesmen, who are listening with grave politeness—each party amiably certain that they are giving the greatest pleasure to the other.

[vison]

Trollope's women are an enduring and endearing delight, although they are not all very "nice". He understood what a "nice" woman was as well as the next guy, but his genius lay in his ability to create and breathe life into women who were . . . complicated.

His heroines are usually sappy little maidens, "patient Grizeldas", but the real meat of the stories is in the other characters. Lady Eustace, Mrs. Bishop Proudie, Marie Finn, Lady Glencora -- I know and love them all, even though a couple of them are hateful witches.

Mr. Harding's words to John Bold are perfect, and perfectly right. Mr. Harding is a wonderful man. His fault, if he has any fault, is that he has such a strict conscience. Is that a fault? It makes things difficult for him.

[themary]

Could you explain your thoughts a bit more on this point, themary? Do you think there was an ulterior motive in appointing him?

I don't necessarily think that Mr. Harding has ulterior motives from what I can gather. However, I think that he goes along with what the church wants simply because that is the way it has been for so long even if he doesn't agree with how the church is handling Hirim's wishes, which is why he doles out some money from his own pocket.

[Cerin]

That circumstance -- Mr. Harding doling out money from his own pocket -- does strikes me as curious now that I think about it.

You'd think that when the murmurs first came to his attention, that there was something unjust about the distribution of the funds and he wanted to redress the situation, that the thing to do would have been to address the issue directly with the other administrators and adjust the terms of the will (as had, after all, already been done once some years previously).

So I guess that Mr. Harding's actions (increasing the stipend from his own funds) didn't reflect a settled conclusion about the will's provisions being improperly interpreted, but merely a pricking of his conscience, which he didn't pursue a full examination of (perhaps due to the difficulties of dealing with the archdeacon), but which will now be compelled by the enthusiastic Mr. Bold.

[Primula Baggins]

He's also got a deep regard for tradition and may be uncomfortable about placing himself in the same "radical" category as Bold. By paying out of his own pocket he can partly redress the injustice without rocking the boat.

As modern people it's probably hard for us to really imagine the horror some English people felt back then at the thought that anything in English society should ever be required to change. (Of course, the English also had plenty of courageous reformers; but judging from books, anyway, most of the people with money and power thought everything was just wonderful as it was, the poor were happy in their Heaven-appointed places, and anyone proposing change really wanted bloody revolution.)

[vison]

He's also got a deep regard for tradition and may be uncomfortable about placing himself in the same "radical" category as Bold. By paying out of his own pocket he can partly redress the injustice without rocking the boat.

As modern people it's probably hard for us to really imagine the horror some English people felt back then at the thought that anything in English society should ever be required to change. (Of course, the English also had plenty of courageous reformers; but judging from books, anyway, most of the people with money and power thought everything was just wonderful as it was, the poor were happy in their Heaven-appointed places, and anyone proposing change really wanted bloody revolution.)

Prim is right. We make a mistake if we impute any hint of dishonesty to Mr. Harding. He is as near to a saint as is humanly possible. He would not dream of interfering with the church on anything. In his mind, somehow, somehow, everyone is right and no one is wrong, an absurd stance but his honest one. In a later book when he is confronted with outright wrong behavior on the part of a fellow clergyman he is just utterly devastated. He always sees the good and not the evil. There is no dishonesty or duplicity in Mr. Harding, but as you will learn, his virtues can be much like faults in some ways.

Trollope was, in some ways, a very conservative man. He was born "a gentleman", which was very important to him, but he did not grow up in easy circumstances and suffered humiliations as a poor boy that scarred him for life. (But unlike Dickens he did not go on and on about it.) He did not settle down to a decent life until he was in his mid-twenties. His life story is fascinating. (As is the life story of his amazing mother, Frances Trollope.) He was a lifelong civil servant, with a long and brilliant career in the British Post Office, believe it or not. Many of his "heroes" are men like him, men born to a good family but who have no money and who have to make their way in the world. He seemed, on the one hand, to revere the gentry and nobility, but he was not foolish enough to despise a self-made man. It is that "gentleman" thing that he sticks to, "blood will tell", but then, he also created many characters who were not "gentle", characters such as the wife of the miller in The Vicar of Bullhampton. And certainly most of his villains were men (and women) of "good family".

John Bold, in The Warden, is a case in point. He is generally described as "manly" and suiting his name of "bold". He is most certainly not a bad man, but he is not like the clergymen with whom Mr. Harding has spent his entire life.

Trollope got some flak for writing about the clergy and appearing to make light of them, or of being sarcastic about them, since so many of his stories were almost ONLY about the worldly affairs of the clergy and not their spiritual life. He said himself that he would not dream of entering that realm, that he had neither the right nor the inclination to do so. About the only overtly "religious" character he created was Mr. Josiah Crawley, the perpetual curate of Hogglestock. But it was never Mr. Crawley's Christianity that caused problems, it was his innate strangeness.

*sighs with delight*

So lovely to spend even a minute in Barsetshire.

[Cerin]

So lovely for us to have you for a tour guide.

[Primula Baggins]

My copy of The Warden has a biographical introduction by a Bradford Booth that I read with great interest.

Oooh, that gives me an idea. I should read the article on Trollope in my 1958 Encyclopedia Britannica, which is probably the last gasp of a British style of scholarly/popular writing that Trollope would have recognized.

. . . Went and got it. Choice bits:

His mother, Frances Milton Trollope (1780–1863) went with her husband to Cincinnati to relieve their fortunes by running a fancy-goods shop, and coming back disappointed achieved notoriety and roused violent resentment by her caustic book, Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832). She afterwards wrote some fifty novels and books of travel, and maintained the family by her literary earnings. . . .

He is said to have been the inventor of the pillar-box.

Trollope was a big, bluff, vociferous person, whose blustering and overbearing ways offended some, but whose John Bull philistinism did not conceal an essential honesty and good nature and a tender heart. He thought Pride and Prejudice the greatest novel in the language, and he idolized Thackeray; but he was as far from the exquisite art of the one writer as from the perfect mastery and irony of the other.

Overall it's more than a bit snippy and condescending, but entertaining nevertheless. It's one thing I love about that old encyclopedia—the articles were expected to have attitude rather than being bland, neutrally phrased collections of facts.

[Cerin]

... and coming back disappointed achieved notoriety and roused violent resentment by her caustic book, Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832).