Framley Parsonage

I have just finished another one of Anthony Trollope's books, the fourth in the Barsetshire series. It is the one that vaulted him to Victorian fame, and I can definitely see why. Most people think his greatest fault is talking to the reader, and he held back for Framley Parsonage. Also, while suspense and plot twists really don't fit his style, Framley Parsonage is the least predictable of the books I have read so far.

Once again, I marvel at his very modern choices, considering how he was a model Victorian in all else. His heroines, far from being the dulcet angels of most other literature of the time, are firm in character and decision, and though fallible, commanding of our respect. He has an obvious respect for women, without being sentimental about them (as Dickens was). His women are always feminine, always within their roles, yet always seem to be in control of events. They are intelligent, some are conniving, and generally more firm in character than the men.

Framley Parsonage is the story of Mark Robarts, a young clergyman who gained a parish because of the beneficence of Lady Lufton. His entanglements with politics, debtors, and worldliness—and the love triangle of Lucy Robarts, Griselda Grantly, and Ludovic Lufton—take up the main body of this engaging book. Trollope also brings back such old friends as Miss Dunstable, Mrs. Proudie, and the Archdeacon, as well as introducing us to the delightful Lady Lufton and Mr. Crawley. For some reason, with all the Trollope books I have read, I have hit a dead spot about halfway through, usually when Trollope is discussing politics, and I stop reading the book for a while. But then, always, when I pick up the book again, I wonder why I had ever put it down, and finish it with relish. This one was no different; the ins and outs of Parliamentary politics show up, but it is only for a few pages, and after finishing it, I wouldn't miss this book for anything!