Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘19th century novels’ Category

Dear friends and readers,

If you are into historical films, costume dramas, mini-series, TV films, 19th to early 20th century classic and serious novels as adapted by British TV, this book should be just your thing.

Cover

I, for one, find Elizabeth McGovern as Cora, Lady Grantham’s outfit irresistible: that soft blue color, the light velvety texture of the dress, the pearls, the long white gloves, not to omit the pearls peeking out of her bun matching her long strand and her tiara and that worried consulting look on her face as she talks to Jim Carter as the eternal butler-steward, solver of all problems, Mr Carson — perfectly poised as epitomizing costume drama.

Here is The Table of Contents:

Yes mine is among the essays — on Andrew Davies’s adaptations of Anthony Trollope’s He Knew He Was Right and The Way We Live Now — but note this is a collection that begins in the 1960s, covers costume drama, British TV and thematic British issues generally across the second half of the 20th century; and the Edwardian and post World War I novel. It’s not just Poldark to Downton Abbey:

Foreword
Jerome de Groot
Acknowledgments
Introduction
James Leggott and Julie Anne Taddeo

Part I: Approaches to the Costume Drama

1 Pageantry and Populism, Democratization and Dissent: The Forgotten 1970s — Claire Monk
2 History’s Drama: Narrative Space in “Golden Age” British Television Drama — Tom Bragg
3 “It’s not clever, it’s not funny, and it’s not period!”: Costume Comedy and British Television — James Leggott
4 “It is but a glimpse of the world of fashion”: British Costume Drama, Dickens, and Serialization — Marc Napolitano
5 Never-Ending Stories?: The Paradise and the Period Drama Series — Benjamin Poore
6 Epistolarity and Masculinity in Andrew Davies’s Trollope Adaptations — Ellen Moody
7 “What Are We Going to Do with Uncle Arthur?”: Music in the British Serialized Period Drama — Karen Beth Strovas and Scott M Strovas

Part II: The Costume Drama, History, and Heritage

8 British Historical Drama and the Middle Ages — Andrew B. R. Elliott
9 Desacralizing the Icon: Elizabeth I on Television — Sabrina Alcorn Baron
10 “It’s not the navy-we don’t stand back to stand upwards”: The
Onedin Line and the Changing Waters of British Maritime Identity —
Mark Fryers
11 Good-Bye to All That: Piece of Cake, Danger UXB, and the Second World War — A. Bowdoin Van Riper
12 Upstairs, Downstairs (2010-2012) and Narratives of Domestic and Foreign Appeasement — Giselle Bastin
13 New Developments in Heritage: The Recent Dark Side of Downton “Downer” Abbey — Katherine Byrne
14 Experimentation and Postheritage in Contemporary TV Drama:
Parade’s End — Stella Hockenhull

Part III: The Costume Drama, Sexual Politics, and Fandom

15 “Why don’t you take her?”: Rape in the Poldark Narrative — Julie Anne Taddeo
16 The Imaginative Power of Downton Abbey Fan Fiction — Andrea Schmidt
17 This Wonderful Commercial Machine: Gender, Class, and the Pleasures and Spectacle of Shopping in The Paradise and Mr. Selfridge — Andrea Wright
18 Taking a Pregnant Pause: Interrogating the Feminist Potential of
Call the Midwife — Louise FitzGerald
19 Homosexual Lives: Representation and Reinterpretation in Upstairs, Downstairs and Downton Abbey — Lucy Brown
20 Troubled by Violence: Transnational Complexity and the Critique of Masculinity in Ripper Street –Elke Weissmann

Index
About the Editors and Contributors

I could wish there were more here, more on the intermediary stages, the important film adaptations of the 1980s (Brideshead was typical of that decade), and the movement into TV at the time of serious cinema film-makers (e.g., My Beautiful Laundrette), but the way to read more books on this area, is by buying and or reviewing this one. I can’t as an interested party. But as I did for my essay on “Intertexuality in Simon Raven’s The Pallisers and other Trollope films” in Victorian Literature and Film Adaptation, edd. Abigail Burnham Bloom and Mary Sanders Pollock, I’ll keep an eye out for reviews and link them in as well as myself read this collection and report back anything which seems to call out for special attention.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

OFMaryDeepinThought
Mary, Lady Mason deep in thought (Orley Farm): “There was less of beauty, less of charm, less of softness; but in spite of all that she had gone through there was more of strength, — more of the power to resist all that this world could do to her.”

cathderaleCrosbiemeetsMrHarding
Crosbie encounters Mr Harding and listens to him (vignette in Small House at Allington)

Dear friends and readers,

I’ve been re-immersed in Trollope’s fiction and reading contemporary writing about him these past couple of years, and this term I re-read Phineas Finn for an umpteenth time. As people say of great writers, this time through I discovered elements, patterns, thematic apprehensions in Trollope’s Phineas Finn I hadn’t noticed before, or hadn’t connected up to the rest of his fiction.

There is a real problem in Phineas Finn, one which needs explanation, a feature at its close which doesn’t make quite enough sense in terms of all that has happened before. In Chapters 55-56 of a 76 chapter book Phineas does a reverse turn-around. Phineas suddenly buys into as a firm adherent Irish tenant rights, declares he must give up his official position as a salaried employee since he disagrees with the gov’t, and pleads with Mary Flood Jones to marry him. The last proposal (marrying Mary) might be called a driving in the nail on the coffin of a career he has worked so hard and cost such money to sustain over hundreds of pages.

How to account for Phineas’s withdrawal? It’s just not the same as say Mr Harding’s and Lily Dale’s which have been prepared for all their novels long. Mr Harding has grown sick with distress at finding himself castigated in public for taking such a huge sum for the little effort it takes him to live with 12 paupers while they get a pittance (partly the product of a couple of hundred years of inflation and partly the church making sure its one members get well paid). Lily Dale has been humiliated by Adolphus Crosbie, and like the “Parson’s Daughter of Oxney Colne,” if she accepts him now on his terms, he will treat her with disrespect, painfully; she has discovered Johnny unable to be faithful and a boy-man she cannot rely on. It’s not the same as Lady Mason as all her novel long she has been fighting to win a case where she forged a document to win her son a property and the wherewithal to act the part of gentleman with; Mary Lady Mason is pronounced not guilty but has been so publicly shamed (and knows she is guilty) she is exclude herself from social life.

Trollope sees his difficulty: he has made Phineas into someone after the main chance continually, in politics, in love life (he chases four women over the course of PF), everywhere, and with obtusely seen motivation: it’s one of the irritants of the novel we are told so little about Irish Tenant Rights and then in so derisory a tone, you’d think Trollope was against it. Phineas hardly discusses it; Monk gives us its signficance while deprecating its possibility. So what is Phineas’s conscience burning about? it will be said from Chapter 1 on Phineas mentioned his conscience, and this mention disgusted Barrington Erle but Phineas never acted on it, to the point of duelling with Chiltern.

Therefore Trollope in the concluding chapters of his book produces a plethora of explanations. If this were an academic paper, I’d now proceed to describe and quote from scenes and analyse words but I’ll spare everyone and keep this blog reasonably sized and just cite the inferences from scene after scene starting with “What the people of Marlebone thought about it:” Phineas discovers these people, voters don’t give a damn about an issue enough to understand it for real, and if you ask them their opinion on an issue they spout ill-informed egotistic nonsense (about Canada). Phineas feels deeply suddenly he has been phony through and though (in an agon in front of Lady Laura — which makes him look bad before his own eyes). Suddenly he feels and sees his insecurity (Lord Brentford shows him this, and then the boroughs are eliminated). He is acutely aware he has no money and is draining his father. When he works at his job which he shows a real propensity for (not oration alone, but really trying to set up railways say), then there’s his delight in debate and how he enjoys arguing for what he believes (alas again we are not told these beliefs); more deeply we feel an impulse in him to self-destruct. This recalls Josiah Crawley but the problem again is Crawley regularly sabotages himself, Phineas does not.

At the close Millais’s portrait of Phineas accepting the derisory and ironic job (you care about Irish tenants, all right then, be a poor house inspector)

pf1finale
“‘Oh Phineas; surely a thousand a-year will be very nice'”, Phineas Finn

resembles George Housman’s depicton of Josiah Crawley and his wife poring over Archdeacon Grantley’s humilitating way offering a needed position to Crawley

Psychiatrists say rightly in this instance when a person starts to invent reasons for what he wants to do, and comes up with many, they are rationalizations for something deeper. Phineas doth protest too much.

Raven saw this problem and made Mary pregnant; thus Phineas’s withdrawal does not need to be explained. He must not leave Mary to be publicly shamed (along with himself in Ireland). Did anyone ever read a more painful scene than Chapter 72 where Madame max repeatedly offers herself to Phineas – It’s an extraordinary chapter, 72, p 311 in my book, second volume, where Madame Max hinting continually she is on offer (she is not gauche like Mr Kennedy but ends up doing the same sort of thing) and having to move step-by-step to offer herself. Phineas longs to reach out for this woman who understands, who would give him the right setting, be all adoration and not get in the way (European icon from Brideshead let’s recall, Stephan Audan, Lord Marchmain’s mistress), Phineas turns her down! In the 1974 Pallisers, it’s made obvious: he must return to marry the pregnant Mary; by doing this Raven spares us all of the above, but also loses Trollope.

Trollope does not offer a reason which convinces. Why does he do this continually, have his most sympathetic characters perform an escape maneuver, sometimes while winning, act out a reluctant withdrawal? We’ve see in An Eye for an Eye, Fred Neville sabotaging himself, even returning to Ireland to be toppled over a cliff; and powerfully and convincingly in “The Parson’s Daughter.

I connect this pattern to two others in Trollope: I call these the self-flagellation and the person under “joint attack.” Everyone around the characters agrees to browbeat, bully, tempt and otherwise insist our hero or heroine act out what the world admires and wants (marry the lord not the tailor in Lady Anna), no matter what the personal cost or gyrations this demands.

The self-flagellation is seen most plangently in “The Spotted Dog,” where a gifted man has sabotaged his life and now that he must find some employments, presents himself openly as a shameful creature no one in their right mind would interview, much less hire to deal with fragile paper indexes and scholarship. Julius Mackenzie unable to cope ends up drunk rolling in the streets, his talents utterly thrown away. For myself one of the most moving pieces of prose in a novel I’ve ever read is the letter he writes for the interview. When he says he does not expect an interview, it bowls me over. The only competition is Josiah Crawley’s letter accepting a job offered him on humiliating terms because he must. Phineas at the close is offered a derisory job with courteous words, but it’s a derisory job, a kind of ironic laugh: you wanted to help tenants, well now go and inspect the houses the gov’t sets up for the poor. In “Fred Pickering” We get this writer who is forced to admit he must write the tripe or indexes or whatever it is that sells that the public wants, and the story shows the central character punished hard to be taught this. The adventures of Fred Pickering, provides George Bertram with a lesson in theological controversy and how a spirit of integrity can lead to suicide in The Bertrams. Mary Gresley destroys her manuscript. George Bertram’s learns hard lessons about attacking the Bible – even discussing it in The Bertrams where this is another realistic visit to Palestine.

74Pallisers47MadameMax3
When we first meet Madame Max in Phineas Finn and the Palliser films, she is snubbed (Volume 4, Episode 7, the first reception of Lady Glen) — she is just beginning her career fight

On one level Trollope is at once teaching himself he is doing the right thing to compromise and living out vicariously the act of integrity and the escape. His characters who are punished often make their strongest arguments on the side of utter integrity, of refusal, they get to walk away and display courage doing it. It’s the others’ joint attacks which speak the world’s cant wisdom, prudence and the like. Mr Harding is not supposed to be a saint, but has the courage to walk away. The greatness of William Styron is he does have as heroic acts men who walk away. Plantangenet Palliser as Duke of Omnium and Prime Minister is in constant agons over his desire to walk away and not deal. Not that Mr Trollope wanted to do that, but he is releasing something within him he needs to get out of his system again and again and again … On Trollope19thCStudies @hyahoo.com, a fellow reader agreed with me: “both in terms of Phineas and Trollope. Anyone who is successful must also feel the same way – that they have succeeded in exchange for not in some sense being true to themselves.”

BTPt4Ep1TheInterview
The interview as a manipulative hazing experience (in Barchester Towers, the book, and again in Barchester Chronicles, the mini-series): Alan Rickman as an inimitable Slope and Donald Pleasence as Mr Harding

The courage to walk away is underrated terrifically in US society. You are to go out for the team if everyone else does even if it means permanent brain damage. If someone bullies you, you are to take it, take that punishment and whatever the psychic cost in later life triumph – in public. Look upon cruel self-shattering forms of training as “boot camp,” a word which puzzlingly is used as a honorific. Then take pills when no one is looking. Maybe die of an overdose? Never mind the psychic penalties that warp your personality, break up your marriage. The loss of integrity, an authentic existence? you end up not knowing what are the true instincts of your nature.

Phineas has the courage to walk away, and the ending chapters of his novel are made up of attacks. Several times groups of characters attack him. End of chapter 67, Mrs Finn joins Bunce and Low as choral voice: now she is against him giving up his job, “Fiddlesticks!” she says about his conscience. Dr Finn suspects how hard it will be for Phineas to be allowed to begin again. Ever give up a promotion and others know it – do they respect you? They are suspicious. Why are you doing this? By the way same attitudes can be found towards people who take volunteer unpaid jobs. Note the words Trollope uses for Mary Lady Mason: all that the world could do to her would not make her give in. In Lady Anna, she is under ferocious pressure and she holds out for her beloved childhood sweetheart, though he is a tailor.

**********************
74Pallisers510LadyGlenfacesMadameMax23
In the first phase of their relationship in the Pallisers and in Phineas Finn, Lady Glenn and Madame Max are rival (Volume 5, Episode 10)

Which by contrast (Lady Anna Lovel aka Anna Murray and Mary Flood Jones are not interested in power or influence or individual lives at all) takes me to the second pattern I noticed in Phineas Finn: a depiction of a woman’s career when not invested in or though a marriage or as a mother (Lady Lufton of Framley Parsonage). Trollope sees that such a career takes a very different shape from a man’s; even more rare is that in PF he presents such a career with empathy. He is usually intensely hostile and presents such a woman as a dominating vixen (e.g., Mrs Proudie).

I’m talking of Madame Max Goesler as we first meet her in Trollope’s novel — imaged by the 19747 Pallisers well after she is introduced:

74Pallisers59Arch34
Time is pressing us all very hard, Mr Finn, says Madame Max, pushing him out as she’s expecting the Duke of Omnium (Volume 5, Episode 9)

It’s a truism that women’s careers look different from men’s — as writers, as mid-level professionals, as elite types. The criteria and things you judge a man’s success by won’t do as women often don’t have big monetary success on their own, rarely hold high public office, don’t have a forward trajectory in the same way. One of the strengths of Phineas Finn, not repeated in Phineas Redux is to show us a woman having a career not based on a man’s job — though a man’s money: Madame Max Goesler. We see her tempted — I reread “Madame Max’s generosity” (in the chapter in PF where she offers herself to Phineas), not as a tempter but as the one tempted to opt out because forsooth she’s lonely.

The explanation for her offer to Phineas is that she is intensely lonely and has a heart (not common in the world by the bye) — the narrator has told us three times that she is lonely, she has no intimate friend, and by that in a way what’s meant is a woman friend. She becomes intimate with Lady Glen sometime during Eustace Diamonds (it happens offstage in the novel while Raven puts the development of their friendship on-stage). Madame Max recognizes in Phineas a fellow-outsider, a person on the make, but also a person who wants to have integrity and act on it, he’s handsome (how often do we have to be told this); they are just gut-level congenial.

In Madame Max in PF Trollope shows us the cost of such a career to a woman: she must be intensely and continually performative, keep no one close to her. To enjoy life and be free she is of the demi-monde, but then no woman of high respectability will visit her easily and she must endure the Mrs Bonteens. Finally Lady Glen does visit Madame Max, but that is to stop the Duke from getting too close to Madame Max in an intimate dinner party, to prevent a marriage. Trollope does present Lady Glen attempting a career in The Prime Minister but as a wife, with a family to fall back into, and in a real sense Lady Glen fails (over Ferdinand Lopez among other bad choices) and is taught a harsh lesson against doing all she did. At the same time Trollope recognizes that women do this kind of thing in politics — elite women do.

74pallisers1021duchessandmrsprout
Lady Glen trying to influence an election by buying expensive shoes (Volume 10, Episode 21)

It is important to recognize this saloniere business (whether respectably married or on her own) is a conservative approach to a woman’s career as she upholds the patriarchal order by complying with the demand she work, facilitate and do all sorts of things without an office or salary or without any real means of independence. Marie has independence. For a man to look at the price and say walk away is radical, not supporting “progress” as Trollope sees this. He cannot bring himself to reveal that his male hero wants to walk away, that it takes courage to do this because he knows the average reader does not like that. The average reader has sold him or herself or believes in the cant of fighting on, doing what others do, boot camp. He can show the woman opting out — for Trollope is for marriage.

74Pallisers47Chiltern7
In Phineas Finn, Phineas is nagged to quit and become a lawyer by the Lows and Mr Bunce; but the real contrasts to him are on the one side, Chiltern who will not be bought but has no place in the world, and Laurence Fitzgibbon who has no character to uphold; and on the other, Barrington Erle who has no soul and Mr Slide who does not understand how corrupt he is

Millais’s drawings of Lady Mason was so great for Trollope because (he said) of the psychology of the drawing; it’s the pattern of her holding out against the world he is riveted to, her emotional distress and strain. And yet once he got into Ireland and broke out of his depression, he fought and fought and was coopted — and knew the stress of that selling of his talent, renting it, too.

A personal note: I admire Phineas and Mr Harding because I know the emotional distress of such a choice and in a way that’s one of the draws of Trollope’s texts for me: he dramatizes that distress again and again. Mr Harding’s long day in London (a favorite chapter with me) shows the distress Mr Harding experiences in having been attacked, in realizing he was doing wrong from a standpoint of integrity, and in holding out under great stress to be coopted (from Archdeacon Grantly) or be destroyed. Some of Trollope’s characters give in to the world and are destroyed … or partly succeed (Lady Glen gave up the instincts of her heart and Burgo Fitzgerald and tries the saloniere out and remains safe too).

**********************

I know of one academic essay which discusses this withdrawal pattern, not in terms of Trollope’s life, his career, and not as a pattern across the fiction, but as opting for failure not quite as a noble choice (that gets us to Henry James whose uses this theme again and again), but as the better part of valour: Sarah Gilead, ‘Trollope’s Orphans and the “Power of Adequate Performance”‘, Texas Studies in Literature and Language, 27 (1985): 86-105 (she brings together Mr Harding, Lily Dale and Mary, Lady Mason). Nowadays there are numerous on the depiction of the career in Trollope’s fiction but not the ambivalence with which he present this. To see the pattern as a reluctant withdrawal and relate it to Trollope’s own awkwardnesses in social life, his carapace and refusals to play along in company is to see deeply into his fiction’s fuel. To see the rarity in Trollope of a depiction of a woman’s career when not married in a patriarchy, and its accuracy is to assess his acute perception of social life and his limitations.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

GreatHallofPenshurts
The great hall at Penshurst

Dear Friends and Readers,

The other night I embarked on listening to another of these sets of videos sent out by English universities and designated MOOCs: Mass Online Courses. My second is from Warwick University, thus far the lectures are by the somewhat mesmerizing Jonathan Bate. He begins with Shakespeare’s life (week 1) and how his play, The Merry Wives of Windsor (week 2) closely reflects aspects of Shakespeare’s community, parentage, boyhood: “Shakespeare and His World.” Bate speaks of Shakespeare’s apparent bisexuality, gives a real sense of his life’ story and career that makes sense, and dismisses the snobbish nonsense that won’t attribute the plays to this player, writer, ordinary man. He speaks eloquently himself, quotes beautifully and expatiates on his texts, and (for week 3) his discourse about the world of plays and dreams, the birth of the professional theater fills the silence of my lonely room with a vibrant mind.

The series also functions as an advertisement for the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust at Stratford: we are invited to contemplate artifacts from the Trust as relics.

Well my first try was the Literature of the English Country House, from Sheffield presented by a husband and wife professor team, the Fitzmaurices, and as, on the whole it was a disappointment, I thought I would not write a useless screed of complaints; but now I’m seeing another, which is much better to begin with (the professor is much franker and really knows something about his particular topic), yet shares some of the traits, I thought I would suggest what was valuable, and why people argue MOOCs are not true forms of learning, e.g., most glaringly little was told about the specific houses filmed in: many were supported by corrupt violence, slavery, vicious practices in factories, and the reality of how the wealth came to be gotten which put these houses up and paid for their is said to be a sore topic in the tourist and heritage industries. I include what little was said about enclosures, provincial playing of plays, politeness literature, Rousseau and education (nonsense poetry for adults), gothics (Radcliffe, Dickens) and Oscar Wilde’s “Canterville ghost,” the soul of man under socialism. Not much to do with country houses …

**********************
Penshurst-PlaceGardens
A corner shot of the Penshurst gardens

They began at Penshurst, doubtless because of Ben Jonson’s poem:

Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show,
Of touch or marble; nor canst boast a row
Of polished pillars, or a roof of gold;
Thou hast no lantern, whereof tales are told,
Or stair, or courts; but stand’st an ancient pile,
And, these grudged at, art reverenced the while.
Thou joy’st in better marks, of soil, of air,
Of wood, of water; therein thou art fair.
Thou hast thy walks for health, as well as sport;
Thy mount, to which the dryads do resort …
Here no man tells my cups; nor, standing by,
A waiter doth my gluttony envy,
But gives me what I call, and lets me eat;
He knows below he shall find plenty of meat.
The tables hoard not up for the next day;
Nor, when I take my lodging, need I pray
For fire, or lights, or livery; all is there,
As if thou then wert mine, or I reigned here:
There’s nothing I can wish, for which I stay.
That found King James when, hunting late this way
With his brave son, the prince, they saw thy fires
Shine bright on every hearth, as the desires
Of thy Penates had been set on flame
To entertain them; or the country came
With all their zeal to warm their welcome here.
What (great I will not say, but) sudden cheer
Didst thou then make ’em! and what praise was heaped
On thy good lady then, who therein reaped
The just reward of her high housewifery;
To have her linen, plate, and all things nigh,
When she was far; and not a room but dressed
As if it had expected such a guest!
These, Penshurst, are thy praise, and yet not all …
Now, Penshurst, they that will proportion thee
With other edifices, when they see
Those proud, ambitious heaps, and nothing else,
May say their lords have built, but thy lord dwells

For the first week on Penshurst, the texts included excerpts from Jonson’s “To Penshurst,” a paean to Robert and Barbara Sidney, who were among his patrons and decent humane values; excerpts from Margaret Cavendish’s Sociable Letters, and snatches of Shakespeare’s Twelth Night. The visuals included the gardens, which I have been to. Jonson’s poem is a beautiful set of images whose values are deeply appealing. Robert Sidney is all generosity (liberal, free). This is a table where guests all eat from the same set of foods — that implies there are places where some are sat at other tables with lesser food. No one is watching him, counting, either to see him show off or to make him feel he is taking too much. Everything you could want in your room is provided — and that’s where no one would see if you were deprived. It was like this when King James and his son came — so you are treated like a king & heir. Barbara Sidney does not disdain to do the work herself — or at least supervise and get involved. She has had many children — the value of fecundity, implying that some women of this era did know how to control their reproduction. Records suggest thought that most women of this milieu endured endless pregnancies. Virtue is taught here – -and all the country arts. Others show off, but you really live in this place.

At the same time I liked how Professor Cathy Shrank exposed the delusion that masters and servants were all lovey-dovey and insisted on the continual tensions between tenants and owners — the enclosure movement was part of what gave rise to More’s Utopia (a communist tract in effect though More didn’t know the term): it’s Utopian, presents an ideal ironically; More does not expect anyone will follow it, but uses it heuristically. How central More’s profound treatise, Utopia, and Bolt’s play, A Man for All Seasons seem to me more than ever today in trying to understand underlying motivations and types we see in our political world today. Together with Machievalli’s The Prince (it’s said Hussein would shoot his enemies dead at a table) and Erasmus’s Praise of Folly (on madnesses).

**********************

FHardwick-Tapestries
The central hall of Hardwick (familiar on the Net) was filmed in, but nothing said about the tapestries

Week 2 we were taken to Hardwick Hall where very little was permitted to be photographed; the presenters seemed to delight in presenting the Duchess as formidable, but she left no diary — she was not introspective enough to keep one, and too ambitiously busy in the world. I learned something new — or that an attitude and belief had changed. When I was studying the Renaissance it was thought that these companies only went into the provinces when there was plague, or a specific invitation or someone in the company lived near the great house or some specific event was happening there — like a queen’s visit. Now they assert that the companies traveled frequently and provided much entertainment. But one reason for the thinness of the lectures for Week 2 is they seem to know hardly anything about these performances. Is there no paper trail? They were not sure where they were played, which plays chosen.

**********************

Nostell_Priory_Stables
Nostell Priory Stables

The third week was filmed in one spot at Nostell Priory and the third and fourth week in several at Chatsworth (a tourist place nowadays) and the topic was politeness — well-taken if not fully explained. A long history of the 18th century by Paul Langford uses politeness in its title to capture a new central quality or value of the era. As England comes a thoroughly commercialized society where people did business with strangers as a matter of course and had to interact learn to trust one another, shared manners was essential. The two professors don’t bring out this economic basis. It was a value in itself, performative sociability, giving you presence and status so an entertainment house, Nostell Priory would be a place where you showed your politeness for all sorts of reasons. They cited Addison’s Spectators, a good choice: when I was young, they charmed me for their tone but now I know how snobbish this one we read it. Like Emma Mr Spectator expects people to modulate their tones.

Taking us to Chatsworth enabled them to talk about the “corruption” of this ideal later in the century: where politeness is used to manipulate and screw people. Instead of allowing for socialabilty it is a disguise behind which real social dysfunctions lurk. They don’t say that: a problem with these videos is the two people are so aware they don’t know who is listening and fear offending, so their language is so banal, neutral, it’s empty of any kind of judgement. So they say next to nothing about Chesterfield’s letters, at the time a scandal, called the letters of whore master because there is no pretense at fake morality to his son.

The choice of a central text was brave; Georgiana Spencer’s Sylph. but of course they did not discuss how the text relates to her life. She was an inordinate high player and was hounded for debts as was her husband. In the novel she is pressured to go to bed with someone in lieu of paying debts. They omit that these great houses were places where high play and gambling went on until the wee hours and people lost great sums.

They naturally brought in Austen as Chatsworth was used for the 1995 P&P film’s Pemberley: Austen’s books participate in the literature of the country house — from Pemberley; Norland, Barton Delaford, to Donwell Abbey, Mansfield Park & Sotherton; Donwell and Northanger Abbeys; Kellynch-Hall are all such places. There was not a single comment on what was Austen’s stance towards these places.

They also omitted how these houses were power linch-pins of aristocratic, elite life, central to Mark Girouard’s Life in the English Country House. These houses were places from which wealthy and influential people controlled the landscape and local economic and political life of “their area.” Their size, their networking capacity, their large staffs, how the family actually lived in London most of the time — all show us how unreal Downton Abbey is. Girouard also says it’s wrong to think of them as farms with tenant farmers) as DA encounages; Yes, but the purpose was to wrest rent from everyone; it was the rent rolls that mattered. So it mattered that the farms do well but that also depended on trade and connections across the county and outside too — tied to colonies as well. Girouard describes specific houses and like so many his emphasis is on the Renaissance and 17th century when these house first went up. They were extended in the 18th century and renovated in the 19th.

**********************

SatisHouse
Satis House where a room is kept in imitation of Miss Haversham’s room in Great Expectations

The fifth week was called “Gothic” and included Haddon Hall which Ann Radcliffe knew. Two new presences energized the experience. Angela Wright’s two talks, one 9 and the other nearly 8 minutes on the gothic, Anne Radcliffe and Haddon Hall I thought excellent. What she showed was the suggestiveness of the prose and intertwining of narrator and main character. She talked rightly of how much study Radcliffe did of the countries she described and never went to – she also extrapolated from where she had been, Germany, and England all over the place, Scotland into the Highlands.

The opening epigraph poem written by Radcliffe herself: Her” voice seems to refer to Fate but it could also be the person who suffered the “nameless deed.” By not naming it, the suggestion is it breaks deep taboos — so how about incestuous rape? In Romance of the Forest an uncle attempts incestuous (it turns out) rape on the heroine (who is his niece we later learn). On the famous movement into Udolpho: she gazed … The adjectives connect the building to levels of darkness and light, mostly darkness; the uncertainty of what we see in this gloom reflects Emily’s deep feeling of insecurity. Words like “melancholy awe” and “gaze” are overtly connected to Emily but they spill over to “silent, lonely, sublime: Emily feels the silence, her loneliness, that she is nontheless in this special — sublime — environment. Uncertainty pictured in: “its features became more awful in obscurity,’ ” till its clustering towers were alone seen,” the carriage moves under “thick shade.”

One question we could ask since we do have very quiet free indirect discourse making for high subjectivity in the narrative all along, where is Radcliffe? how does she relate to acts like incestuous rape? by being so reticent and withdrawn (anticipating say Flaubert) she deflects such questions, but we do ask of other authors where are they in their lives and imagination in the fiction.

It made me yearn to go to the Ann Radcliffe Sheffield conference — Three days, maybe the first conference wholly on her — a 250 anniversary of the publication of Udolpho.

Again filming of the house was extremely limited, and Fitzmaurice could make anything boring (he is often interlocutor), so bland and careful are any of his comments. He did try to talk scarily – he was elephantine. They filmed themselves in the dark in one of Haddon House’s rooms. They also filmed Haddon House from the outside at an angle which suggests how it could be this building Radcliffe was thinking of when she imagined Udolpho.

Then Amber Regis spoke and she was good on Satis House: she had less time so there was much less about dickens (maybe they assumed we know something). It was amusing to see that the National Trust keeps one room of Satis House in a mess — paper coming away … What was especially good was Amber Regis’s exposition of Great Expectations and the remarks on autobiography and its relationship to Great Expectations. Of her questions about the text she chose I wrote: How does Pip know this though? Has he brooded analogously? What is this order of her Maker? Did God make her suitor desert her at the altar and implicitly demand that Miss Havisham “get over it?” Why should she be punished? what has she done? Was she at fault for the suitor not showing up? These are bad vanities: the “vanity of penitence, the vanity of remorse, the vanity of unworthiness, and other monstrous vanities ” But there are worse evils. the novel faults Miss Havisham for bringing Estella up to hate and hate men. It’s an odd pivotal figure to hang upon a load of the world’s grief and misery.

I am drawn to the idea that Miss Havisham is approaching annihilation — she is herself dying before our very eyes. Since I have read the novel, I’d ask how this relates to our first sight of Magwitch in a grave yard, a convict fleeing the daylight world of law and police, someone who was treated as abominably as anyone (far worse than being stood up at an altar I should think) — since Pip grows to be a gentlemen out of these two people’s influence, is being a gentleman presented symbolically dependent on the deaths of others?

The two women had such cut glass chiseled accents — I thought that had gone out. So I wondered what Sheffield is like as a place to work … It was once a textile city and beautiful shawls came from there, sheep all around – -there was also much enclosure, much misery from industrialization — and radical and reform movement arose there in the 18th century and chartism in the 19th. I’ve wondered why does no one make a film adaptation of The Mysteries of Udolpho — you could incorporate some of the best of the Romance of the Forest as well as The Italian? The country house ruined is the center of the gothic, its underbelly, its cruelties — it’s on behalf of keeping it up that primogeniture was partly set up.

Elaine Pigeon who participated too wrote: “I was surprised by the gothic aspects of Great Expectations, the creepiness of Miss Havisham. The emphasis on decay reminded me of the ruin of the Lestrange family in Rhoda Broughton’s Cometh Up as a Flower. The idea of corruption and moral decay fits quite well as new money is taking over while the nobility of the past simply evaporates. It also made me think of William Faulkner’s famous short story, ‘A Rose for Emily,’ which as you probably know is considered a good example of Southern Gothic. There is a reversal in that tale, as Emily keeps the corpse of the groom in her bedroom, laid out on the bed as a fully dressed skeleton. If I recall correctly, he had tried to jilt her, but she put a stop to that.”

**********************

brodsworth-at-war
Brodsworth Hall: a modern play area outside the house for children

The 6th week is worth discussing for what was not discussed and what was deeply wrong about this MOOC. Perhaps others will disagree – I would like to hear if anyone liked or disliked this week – but I found this week’s series irritating – it had all the faults of the previous weeks and then some. Brodsworth Hall was presented as unusual for its children’s nurseries and an excuse to launch into educational treatises. I had not noticed in previous weeks but this time it was glaring. We were never told who owned Brodsworth nor why It has this vast wing for children.

I looked it up and found on Wikipedia a pdf dissertation which explained the family were fabulously rich and much of their money derived from slavery – -especially the worst kind where one worked people to death in the western hemisphere to make huge sums on sugar and other products. Even cursory reading of “Slavery connections of Brodsworth Hall (Final report for English heritage – you can find the pdf on Wikipedia if you type in Brodsworth) showed that Peter Thelluson could be used an antidote to Lord Grantham: we are told at one point this poor man was squeezed and forced to take a position at court in the Ottoman empire (reminding me of the pity we are to feel for the Scottish lord In Downton Abbey just “forced” to go to India and live there as a courtier). Reading about this family reminded me of all the evils of primogeniture and how it was used for the patronage system – I read yesterday of how Thomas Paine attacked primogeniture in Part 2 of his famous Rights of man.

The first inference to take is such a nursery cannot be common. Our presenters never told us 1) What was the average childhood of Victorian times, nor how common is such a wing for other country houses. But answer came there none because no one asked the question. Which generation of the family built this wing? Which woman? Who were the servants? How many governesses and nursemaids did they have? Was there a tutor? You learn far more from Tillyard’s book about the Lennoxes in this regard than anything cited here.

Then they went over two poems (Lear and Carroll), two men who never married, and not children’s literature from country houses. What were the real books given these children and what the books written about them in the era and after. I am startled by how well behaved the questioners are but maybe there are many people like me who refrain from asking obvious questions that might be uncomfortable – MOOCs are dependent on the inhibitions of people in large public cyberspace where they know very few people – but I did notice that none of the offered subjects were at all about the house, the family who owned it and came to build such a wing. We are not encouraged to learn about how children really fitted into this environment.

Cynically I’d say this angle was chosen because there was someone on the Sheffield staff whose speciality was nonsense verse and fantasy pictures and the last thing she wanted to discuss was what it was all about (the fantasy pictures are highly erotic). We got the silliest exposition of ideas about childhood in the 18th century: Rousseau was cited but not Locke’s Thoughts Concerning Education. All they could say was the bland idea that children were not longer little adults and seen as the product of sin or wild savage animals. In fact they were not seen this way from the Renaissance on. There is a history of educational literature which starts in the 16th century — how to teach children in school and this history is taught (or used to be) in better graduate school programs – like Columbia’s Teacher’s college. Much of the earliest enlightened thought was against beating — to no avail in many places but it was against it. Healthy environments, keeping children from “corruption” (sexual knowledge).

The true importance of Rousseau’s treatise is he argued you must take the child’s nature and keep his gifts in mind. Lock was willing to impose goals a family might want – insofar as one is able. Rouseau wants to find out the particular child and develop programs which address this. He also tried to break with latin learning and make it far more practically oriented. The Lennox sisters actually followed Rousseau’s regimen – they were famous for it. One of them married the tutor she hired — an enlightenment type. This is revolutionary — maybe you’d like your son to be a naval officer but if he has no inclination or ability in that direction, all the beating in the world will not make him a successful officer. They may have mentioned that this did not go for girls: Rousseau assumes the nature of all girls is to be come sexual objects and mothers and wives. It needs Mary Wollstonecraft, Madame de Genlis and others to object against this and argue for a real education for a girl too — which developed into finishing schools for the rich.

Diane Reynolds participated and here is some of what she wrote about week 6: ” … Samuel Johnson, among others, defended corporal punishment in schools as, while unpleasant, the only way to compel children to learn. He and
others defended it as long as it caused no lasting damage to the body — no maiming, no blinding, no visible scars. It was seen as transitory suffering far outweighed by the enduring quality of an education. Pain went away, but the knowledge wrought by pain — reading, writing, etc — lasted a lifetime. Though many people were highly uncomfortable with this logic, having endured horrors themselves, it took more than a century of case building to establish the enduring psychological harm caused by corporal punishment, and, also important, the fact that the mass of children could learn effectively without being beaten … This is the period of locking children into dark closets (which we should understand more as small rooms than our current closets — our clothes closet function was supplied by wardrobes) and dark basements for minor infractions. The lecturer tells us that the wing is no longer decorated as a child’s wing, but does not tell us what it would have looked like — it would have been interesting to have been shown contemporary photographs or read contemporary accounts or memories of the children as adults. But no. The house might well have simply arisen from the ether. The nonsense verses were hardly nonsense but all about power and oppression, though we are prompted to see them as “nonsense.” At the end, the lecturer mentions they are about power (well, duh) but never goes on to provide anymore context or explanation or even her own theory about them.

I am sure it would have offended some people to highlight the house being built on the profits of slave labor, but for me that raises a larger question of academic integrity and truth-telling. If it is indeed the truth that this is where the money came from, it seems to me we need to face that. I have never understood why people get so offended at truth telling. I would think sweeping unpleasant facts under the rug would be more offensive. This becomes history functioning as fantasy or fiction: dangerous.”

I replied: I now seriously doubt any of those who talked had read Rousseau. They were mouthing the safest truisms they knew of – or else they just didn’t want to discuss his text at all nor its place in education. The Renaissance began the drumbeat to stop physical beating — it occurs very early in the literature and when (for example), Sarah Fielding in her Governess reaffirms its use, it is more than horrifying because she has added another aspect Johnson meant to decry: moral blackmail. Not only do you beat the child, but you instill in it deep attachment to you, in both Rousseau and Madame de Genlis, you cut the child off from other children (that is part of the drive to educate privately) so poor Emile and Adele have no one to turn to. Rousseau is quite explicit about this; Madame de Genlis is ruthless in the way she manipulates the daughter. I say Madame de Genlis because Adele et Theodore is transparently autobiographical: she is describing how she brought up Pamela and Henriette. She didn’t dare do quite that level of bullying to the man who became the citizen king (who was devoted to her in later life) and was one of her pupils later on.

One of the major changes in the 18th century is a growth in psychological awareness and seeing things from a psychological standpoint. Richardson anticipates Freud says Diderot (in effect).

And there is something to this — at least this kind of twisting of children to make them envy this or that, long for this or that can have very bad effects on them morally — maybe you teach some ambition and those who are that way to start with (competitive) thick-skinned and maybe more shallow in feeling do okay but it can instill deep inward injury (class based then and now, race based now).

When I read Rousseau I thought his idea of following the child’s nature a form of true liberation in the earliest years and this kind of thing can create great love between tutor and student — it does link to what Austen makes fun of through Marianne Dashwood. Marianne says if she was doing wrong she would know it because she’d feel it. That’s out of Rousseau finally and the idea is its innate — this understanding of what’s right and wrong or good and bad. Rousseau said famously man is born free but everywhere in chains. He’s not all wrong: one practice of enslavers suggests they knew at some level they were committing horrific crimes — they get rid of every document they can about their slaves but those which relate to buying and selling. One part of that I think is shame — they want to erase what they have perpetrated. Not enough not to not do it. And they did advertise to get back slaves then shamelessly identifying slaves by scars showing terrible brutality. Dickens used that in his American Note

In letters Madame de Genlis’s daughter, Pamela, wrote late in life (after she married Lord Fitzgerald and he died) she said she hated her mother. She described Madame de Genlis as a hypocrite: she tells of how the woman coerced another daughter into marriage in order to get money and how when the girl tried for and got a divorce Madame de Genlis was among those who countered that Enlightenment statute (alas abrogated in 1803 or so) by refusing to acknowledge the divorce. The man was brutal and a crook — one of these embezzling types. OTOH, Pamela never did become estranged: she couldn’t imagine life without this woman who was to her toxic (so she says). Her letters are an early version of Mommie Dearest ….

**********************

Bowood_from_Morris's_County_Seats_1880
Bowood from Morris’s County Seats, 1880

In the 7th week all pretense at discussing country houses was given up and an Oscar Wilde expert (Dr Andy Smith) trotted out — the texts included The Happy Prince, “The Canterville Ghost” (a short story), The Importance of Being Earnest, and “The Soul of Man under Socialism” (a short treatise). There was some general talk of the decline of the country house, the agricultural depression of the 1890s — in terms you can get straight from Downton Abbey. In DA we learn of (oh how sad) how rich people lost their estates — that’s about what they said; you could find it in a magazine article

Not once was there a hint that Wilde was a homosexual man. The escape from a trap using a hidden identity (Bunbury) is what a gay man has to do. The move into anarchism as freedom under socialism is an escape from commercial pressures which also force people to live hidden lives. James was mentioned and The Turn of the Screw is about how the twisted heterosexuality of the normative conventions destroys people and has twisted the mind of the governess. Other of James’s stories invite similar interpretations. “The Canterville Ghost” mocks the form of the ghost story at the same time as it uses it to tell of dire events obliquely.

I was prompted to write more than before:

I have a real connection with the Oscar Wilde material. Again it’s Jim: I have two shelves full of books by Wilde — a big fat seat of everything he ever wrote, multi- old volumes where you have to own a special cutter instrument to open the pages as you go. I’ve Wilde’s letters, a couple of books of criticism, and some selections of his plays, a biography. I’ve a similar library of George Bernard Shaw. Together Jim and I saw a number of Wilde’s and Shaw’s plays. Jim liked Shaw’s criticism and politics. Of Wilde it was all sorts of things, even Wilde’s poetry. I have read in some of the material and some of the texts quite through but especially for Shaw he read a lot of it. I once ended up in a cartoon movie watching Wilde’s “Happy Prince” with Laura as a child; it’s a deeply melancholy story and she watched with great absorption but did not like it at all

So since I’ve never read “The Canterville Ghost” or “The Soul of Man under Socialism” I found them and this morning read “The Canterville Ghost.” It was still uncut so Jim never got this far. “The Soul of Man under Socialism” is in the volume which contains “De Profundis,” the whole book cut so Jim read that one. I am interested in ghost stories.

It’s a send up of the ghost story convention. It appears to follow the outline of Wharton’s powerful “Afterward.” American family buys a property said to have a ghost and find it titillating. In Wharton’s story it ends in cataclysmic tragedy — the women is widowed at the end, devastatingly. Wilde though asks what’s to be afraid of. So you see a ghost. So what?

He makes his Americans thoroughly pragmatic and into inventions to improve the ghost’s existence and their own. They torment the poor ghost by continually washing up a blood stain. They unnerve him. They set traps and tricks. At the same time Wilde shows he can do ghost stories too. The ghost manages to kidnap the daughter at one point and the family then does become terrified. She vanished — that’s what ghosts do. In this part of the story he shows how he can whip up landscape and also labrythine corridors. It does end in death but then turns round to provide a cheer-y mocking ending.

Yes it takes place in a country house — and is part of a subgenre of mystery stories occurring in country houses. But Wilde is not interested in that – -it reminds me of a poor play Izzy and I saw a couple of weeks ago: the humor is really gay humor — you are upending heterosexual norms and showing them to be absurd. Wilde would understand _the Turjn of the Screw_ in the way it was meant but at the same time find the horrified sensibility hilarious — or write a story where he appeared to. He was highly performative.

The story did make me think about this: when my father died I had my first insight into ghost stories: they were about what couldn’t be retrieved; you could not bring the person back; at the same time it’s likely bad things occur much you are remorseful for and there is much guilt so the ghost story rehearses this endless circular re-enactment of guilt, justice, revenge.

Now I see the story itself, the frame is part of what it’s about – how this in itself clasps you round and you need it, live in it, cannot lose its meaning, at the same time like the ghost who removes the heroine for a while it devours you.

Wilde is pointing out how under socialism there can be little individual liberty. When I did my paper on “liberty in the Poldark novels” I read a lot about different kinds of liberty, and the one that only recently has concerned philosophers (since Mill) is civil liberty. It has to do with individual belief systems and how we are allowed to go about our daily lives; it’s a liberty of the private man. Recently privacy has come under attack as a concept, but while much of our privacy is now invaded (see the two Ted lectures), I believe the concept is valid.

Wilde was remarkably brave and continued to be — or he had an urge to be “found out.” There’s a complicated (thoughtful) essay by Colm Toibin on Wilde’s self-exposure which i could try to find and share if people are interested.

*****************

To sum up: in this MOOC about country houses and their literature, the speakers never discussed the general structure of these houses, who made them, the architects, any non-fiction texts actually about them, not even one book which is about a country house culture. Penshurst was as close as they came. They assert things about what went on in the house if they have someone on their staff who knows about that thing but do not demonstrate the thesis. Their offerings of close reading were hilariously inadequate: it’s not wanted, not understood by most readers. Most of the comments in the comments in the comment section were contentless and as bland as the professors’ frequent mush.

What was valuable was when the passages chosen were themselves remarkable even if ripped out of context or when a few of us turned actually to read together and discuss some of the works broached: Georgiana Spencer’s The Sylph for example; from there a few of us went on to read A Woman in Berlin; and then two of us two more 18th century novels, one also attributed to Georgiana (Emma, or the Unfortunate Attachment) and one connected to her (Sophia Briscoe’s epistolary, Miss Melmoth, both 1770s). For myself I then read an excellent essays by Isobel Grundy on the increase of misattribution and minor Richardsonian novels.

CantervilleGhost

The crux of what’s wrong with MOOCs: the superficiaility of the relationships among the people unless they go off site and begin to form a subgroup for real. Yahoo is just now trying to destroy the self-containment of the Yahoo groups as much as it can. A recent phenomena is the appearance on some listservs of ads for others where someone is said to have joined it. As if there is no different between what group you are in … The crucial thing that has made Janeites and other listservs (3 long running ones I moderate)is a self-contained group where the people get to know one another — and are willing to contribute real genuine content. There are people trained to avoid content, but long term relationships bring us out. Blog rings may be made up of genuine groups of people who know one another. On facebook the problem with open groups is so many strangers: people are embarrassed to post content because they do not trust one another.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

pallisers1020duchessmrsfinn
One of my favorite stills taken from a VHS Casette version of the 1974 Pallisers

Dear friends and readers,

Finally tomorrow I will (what’s called) teach the first of 10 sessions of a course wholly on Anthony Trollope’s life and writing. While I’ve taught individual works by Trollope, and over some 18 years now (!) have been leading groups of readers to read Trollope (among other Victorians & Edwardians) on a listserv dedicated to Trollope and his contemporaries (its original name as formulated by Mike Powe and me), I’ve never taught a single course on him. But by some perverse blind misunderstanding of my own (I have no memory of this whatsoever — a Freudian mistake?) I agreed to begin a week later than the official OLLI at AU term began this fall. Not too much harm done as I’m not so badly out of step with others; several people seem to have elected to start a week later, and as the staff decided to not offer any classes on Rosh Hashanah, the Thursday and whatever Friday people there are (not many) are starting this week too.

Worse for me: as in the spring term as bad luck would have it I’ve agreed to go to a conference that interferes with the second week, so we really won’t start in full force for 2 week after tomorrow. I regret this. Then, though, we will have 9 sessions (with time out for Thanksgiving), and I tell myself that I emailed the class last week (which I did) to suggest they read ahead with more an An Eye for An Eye, the passionate Anglo-Irish novella I asked them to read before the course started, and begin the short stories. I sent them the syllabus and told about the places on my website containing much on Trollope, the illustrations to his writing and some of his relatively unavailable essays too. I also remind myself salutarily no one cares about any of this as much me. A couple of students are away on vacation just now I was told …

trollope.third.square
A favorite image: from the Samuel Laurence painting of him

Thus over the past couple of weeks I’ve been insofar as I can been immersing myself in Trollope once again. I reread (yet again) An Eye for an Eye, and several powerful short stories, and with the group, Nina Balatka;, and we are now about to embark on Phineas Finn, some 7 chapters (or more) per week (about 2 installments a week). I had recommended to the students for Trollope’s life story, his own Autobiography, but for myself I’m using the extra week to reread a book I’ve not read in quite a while: N. John Hall’s Trollope. I began with Glendinning’s biography, but after all I find her glib; there is something too promotional in her opening on “lips,” and however pleasant her fantasies about Ur-Texts underlying Trollope’s novels, telling us a hidden story about Trollope’s not altogether comfortable relationship with his wife, and (as it were) outside love life, there’s no proof at all; it’s non-serious. I’m about a third into Hall’s book; yes some of his discussions are slanted to the cheerful he’s determined to make prevail: he has a way of preferring the versions of Trollope’s brother, Tom’s about their child- and young man-hood to Trollope’s own; he will downplay Trollope’s present burning memories of earlier anguish, despair, hurt, mortification by substituting another contemporary’s far more cheerful assessment even if years later. Nonetheless, all that he writes of objective realities is rooted in verifiable documents. He quotes a lot of non-fiction for subjective ones, and his readings of Trollope’s life and opinions inside the fiction is persuasive. And he says what he sees, presents what does not fit into his own patterns. So he admits the tragic greatness of The Macdermots of Ballycloran even as he asserts it is atypical. (It’s not.)

(As to the other better known more recent biographies: Mullen’s book however wonderful on Trollope’s milieu and contexts shows him more Victorian than Trollope ever was, and Super’s book is, well, insufferably arrogant in his dismissal of Trollope’s version of his life and disdain for biographers like Helen Heinemann, the best and most candid on Frances, Trollope’s mother. To be more complete, quite a number of studies of his fiction also function as perceptive biographies, e.g., Skilton on the criticism of Trollope in periodicals, P. J. Edwards on his “art and scope.”)

Rereading Hall is not just a matter of renewing acquaintance with the ideas of the “old male school” on Trollope and seeing value in much of it, but I find I agree with some of what I rejected or didn’t notice before. Hall does far more justice to Anthony’s mother, Frances (Fanny anyone?) Trollope than Anthony could get himself to. Fanny was political, and despite the use of her texts by Tories, radical in her social fiction on slavery, factory workers, young women who had children outside a marriage.

We’ve been talking on Trollope19thCStudies on a disturbing pattern one finds across Trollope’s novels and is very strong in Nina: no other Victorian novelist, man or woman, shows the same continual obsessive dramatization of males demanding obedience from their wives. It bothered me when I read Nina and experienced how Anton Trendellsohn (see the AT, and double “l’s”) is ravaging this girl’s consciousness, tormenting her, making her kowtow to him — why take out his pressures on her. People prey on one another but it’s not pretty. And does not augur well. I note in the Pallisers film Raven tries to make Kennedy far more sympathetic than Trollope does, Raven’s man is really loving Laura and she won’t go to bed with him.

The normalizing reply, sweeping away, is to assert this is what all or most Victorian husbands expected from their wives, but I am not referring to what was said to be the norm, but what is written by Trollope’s peers: not one of them has this emphatic pattern, and reshaped to fit case after case, and while Trollope’s criticizes these characters he also empathizes. No other 19th century novelist makes this demand for obedience so central or presents in quite in the emphatic light of a man demanding obedience as a test of love, his manliness, her very gender as a woman, whatever the topic be. Now and again a conflict is seen in this light: as when in Eliot’s Middlemarch Lydgate tries to get Rosamund to agree to sell their house and allow him to carry on a course of life which is not shaped by the God material success and she thwarts him by going round him in secret. Then he fires up about his right of a husband to demand she obey because he gets to decide. But it’s only one part of a complex pattern, not put at the center.

OFFrontispiece
J. E. Millais, “Orley Farm”,” frontispiece, Orley Farm

One source we on Trollope19thCStudies all agreed on: the pattern is partly a response to his mother: Fanny took over the household when his father couldn’t and Anthony in particular suffered shame, loneliness, went into a depression, was ignored, neglected. She fled Harrow Wealde, the dump they had to leave Julian Hills (aka Orley Farm) for: isolated, to her shameful, a come-down, just awful to survive in, probably unhealthy. There was some kind of romance with Hervieu (it didn’t survive long in the US context, made fun of as she was as an old lady, and ostracized as a woman living with a younger man); her second son, Henry, was no scholar, and maybe she would find something somewhere for him in Frances Wright’s idealistic schemes of communitarian living. She did send him to a college briefly: Henry lasted one day. She had nothing to offer him; indeed she dressed him up in a ridiculous mountebank outfit in an absurd bazaar she set up, but she was desperate for money by then. Fanny had thought to make a new life in the new country. But as one sees from her book, when she first laid eyes on the Mississippi she was astonished; she had no idea what this new world was like. Eventually they were driven to ask Trollope’s father to send money from whatever was left of his estate. She wrote a book as “burning” as any of her sons, about her experiences, Domestic Manners of the Americans, and with her earnings from this and further novels, she eventually returned the family to Julians until debt had them on the run again.

But there’s more here than Trollope’s relationship to his mother: Trollope wrote his Autobiography to stop or control, forestall other biographies. He says so: he had read the biographies of Dickens and was horrified. What he did was tell as much of the truth as he dared and hoped to share what would be told hereafter in the way he wanted it to be seen.  That he told so much inclines us to think this a whole life, but even there he forestalls us by in the first pages calling his book a so-called autobiography and denying any can be written for real. A theme in A. S. Byatt’s work on biography is how much that is crucial in a life never gets written down, or if written is destroyed, or the person deliberately misleads. Trollope was a man who drove himself to success. Thomas his brother said he worked himself to death. That driving force is part of his intense compensation for deep burning shames. Years later he will remember a remark someone said and say see I won that election. This driving force is part of this obsessive pattern.

What does Hall’s book bring to this? Hall reminds us of how Trollope’s father as he sunk into total failure in his career, as a father, a husband, became more or more rigid and tyrannical. Gratingly he would insist on his way, and grow violent when he didn’t get it. Fanny wrote a book about this called One Fault. One reason Fanny left Trollope’s father was to escape that — he was an abusive husband. When he pulled his sons’ hair hard when they didn’t recite Latin verb patterns correctly while he shaved he required them to stand close to submit to him. He was cruel. Though Trollope excuses him and says while he, Trollope, knew his father his father’s life was one long tragedy, Trollope’s obsessive disturbing pattern of fierce demands and intense anxiety on the part of many males who cannot enforce this obedience (Anton Trendellsohn is an enforcer) is also a derivation from his experience of his father, memories of that. He is re-enacting this man — as he represents him over and over again from Larry MacDermot to the sexually anxious Louis Trevelyan. Hall also seems to feel that much of the strongest material in Trollope came to him like automatic writing he released — his dream life as controlled narratives over the years.

Crawley
Josiah Crawley listening to a home truth: ‘It’s Dogged as Does It, F. A. Fraser, The Last Chronicle of Barset

The second half of Trollope’s autobiography notoriously omits the private life which dominates the first. He and Rose had but two children, so how did they stop more from coming? We can’t know how he felt about this, what mortifications he was subject to. Nor about the many casual encounters he had as a young man in London, and then again while traveling nor the one beyond his love of Kate Field where he invested a good deal of himself: while in The West Indies and Spanish Main he went riding with her; he says of the book it’s favorite: he did write two great great short stories during that time). True we have strong women characters in Trollope who get round their husbands. You can prove anything if you get to make up the evidence — and Trollope tells stories which justify this demand for utter obedience or at least say leave it in place since it does no harm. It did and where it reigns does still. And Trollope dramatizes how when you give people power they use it and often meanly.

Other undercurrents: Trollope regards all human relationships is a jockeying for power, as a pull-and-tug of domination and submission. He loathes the way religion is used by people who hate life, resent the enjoyments of others, and this is most often presented as female harridan who drives a girl to a man distasteful to her (sadism) or forbids her any connection with a young man the girl does like.

I am now a long way from how the “old male school” of writers on Trollope (which included Ruth apRoberts) wrote about Trollope: but they do provide evidence for 21st century delving readings. Why do we find what we find in his characters? The Stebbins have been the most frank to bring out a strong thread of depression in the books giving them their darker depths; A. O. Cockshutt comes at this through thematic close reading. I’ve tried here to reach into one of the living permutations in Trollope’s consciousness that is part of the groundwork of his characters and stories, bringing in Hall’s reading too.

To conclude with two more perspectives briefly: I’m told that The Way We Live Now is replaced The Last Chronicle of Barset as Trollope’s signature book, Josiah Crawley an embarrassment instead of a noble failure. Yet who doubts the centrality of Phineas Finn? I watch people ask one another on-line which book do you recommend beginning with? which is your favorite? which the richest? surely Phineas deserves this kind of accolade. It used to be treated as a central book in the development of the political novel in English; now it’s seen as about building a career, and ethnicity. Here Hall’s treatment of Trollope’s first years in the post office, in London and then Ireland, (looking ahead) the failed attempt to get into Parliament matter. Another strength of Hall’s approach is it’s not a thesis book at all so he provides matter I haven’t touch on here to understand Finny Finn more deeply too. If you’ve not read or heard of it, a new book I much admire on Trollope’s politics as history: Christopher Harvie’s The Centre of Things: Political Fiction in Britain from Disraeli to the Present.

Hall uses the Trollope’s travel books centrally too: they are enormously important for anyone who wants to understand him and his fiction. I’ll end on how I’ve now promised to go to the Belgium conference in Sept 2015, and will at long last write that paper I’ve gathered 4 folders of stuff for: “On Living in a New Country: Trollope’s Australia” (it’s a play on Patrick White’s great book, On Living in an Old Country.) There is an enormous amount in Trollope’s writing coming out of colonialism: I’m astonished to think how little it has been treated thus far. (I’m not sure Hall does justice to this. Nicolas Birns’s work is important here.) So I’ll be immersing myself for quite a while to come.

Niagara
Niagara Falls, mid-19th century print

Ellen

Read Full Post »

AT40
Trollope at age 40

A Syllabus

For a Study Group at the Oscher LifeLong Learning Institute at American University
Day: Nine Wednesday afternoons over 10 weeks, 1 to 2:50 am, Temple Baptist Church
Dates: Classes start Oct 1st; last day Dec 10th.
Dr Ellen Moody

Description of Course

This study group will read will four of Trollope’s novels: An Eye for an Eye (written 1870), Nina Balatka (written 1865), Phineas Finn, (written 1866) and Lady Anna (written 1871), a group of short stories spanning Trollope’s career, one of which is the Barsetshire type. We will see that Barsetshire is but one phase of Trollope’s career: he began as an Anglo-Irish novelist, saw himself as exploring the political and social life of Great Britain as well as those countries across the globe connected to or affected by British customs and people. We will see him as a man making a career of writing among men and women making careers out of other professions and marriage. We’ll be reading passionate romances centered on ethnic and class conflict, colonialism, his foreign travel and ironic comedies about the way the world works, parliamentary life and interactions between law and reality. His characters encompass the fabulously rich and the abysmally impoverished. The class will also watch select excerpts from Simon Raven’s 1974 Pallisers, a mini-series which mirrors the ways Trollope is often read, and if possible Henry Herbert’s 1973 Malachi’s Cove, a cinematic adaptation of one of Trollope’s finest short stories, set in Cornwall.

Texts. Students are asked to bring a copy of the novel or stories we are discussing for the week to class.

Trollope, Anthony. The Complete Shorter Fiction, ed. Julian Thompson. NY: Carroll and Graf, 1992. ISBN: 0786700211. ———————–. An Eye for an Eye, ed. John Sutherland. NY: Oxford UP, 1992. ISBN 0192829106 It’s available in a Penguin and on-line http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16804/16804-h/16804-h.htm ———————. Nina Balatka, ed. Robert Tracy NY: Oxford UP, 1991. ISBN 0192827235. It is available as Classic Reprint, and Folio Society. Any of the 3. ———————-. Phineas Finn, ed. Jacques Berthoud. NY: Oxford, 1982. ISBN 0192815873 There are many editions and it’s on-line. http://web.archive.org/web/20080829221818/http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/TroFinn.html .Any edition will do. ———————-. Lady Anna, ed. Stephen Orgel NY: Oxford, 1990. ISBN 0192821342. It is available in a Dover edition and on line: http://web.archive.org/web/20081201213913/http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/TroAnna.html Any of the 3.

Format: Study group meetings will be a mix of informal lecture and group discussion.

October 1st: Introduction: Trollope, life, career, attitudes towards; An Eye for an Eye
October 8th: Class cancelled (for a conference I must go to)
October 15th. Nina Balatka and “La Mere Bauche,” “Ride Across Palestine.”
October 22nd. “Returning Home,” “Aaron Trowe,” “Parsons Daughter at Oxney Colne”
October 29th Phineas Finn
November 5th Phineas Finn
November 12th Phineas Finn and 5 clips from Phineas Finn portions of 1974-75 The Pallisers mini-series
November 19th Phineas Finn, “The Spotted Dog” and “Why Frau Frohman Raised her Prices”
November 26th: Day before Thanksgiving, no class held
December 3rd: Lady Anna (Chs 1-24, Installments 1-6)) and “Malachi’s Cove”
December 10th: Lady Anna (Chs 25-48, Installments 7-12) and “Christmas at Thompson Hall”

Further on-line materials: Ellen’s website Anthony Trollope: British Novelist: Essays on Trollope’s fiction and travel books; bibliographies; group readings Trollope in the Magazines: the original and recent illustrations to his novels; his non-fiction articles Commentaries and summaries on the Pallisers and other films adapted from Trollope: mostly blogs Ellen and Jim have a blog, two, under category Trollope, blogs on Trollope and his writing

“Malachi’s Cove” is based on a real cover and dangerous high cliffs in Cornwall near the famous Lizard Peninsula: Halzephron Cove: here’s a YouTube of a man on holiday experiencing it:

Ellen

Read Full Post »

msmith
Maggie Smith between scenes

Dear friends and readers,

I somehow suspect my phrase of praise for Rebecca Eaton and Patricia Mulcahy’s Making Masterpiece that it fulfills the once famous goals of Lord Reith or the BBC to “educate, inform, entertain” might make her uncomfortable: its connotations have become stuffy, elite, even dull; but in fact her book covering a history of PBS’s most famous and long-running Sunday night prime quality (the term now used) serial dramas from the era of the powerful and fine film adaptations, original dramatizations, and multi-episode serial dramas from just before the 1967 The Forsyte Saga up to the 2010-14 Downton Abbey does just that. We learn a lot about the commercial, financial, filming, roles different people play, the TV channels who air the shows, Eaton is unashamedly working for quality in her purchases and commissions and is surprisingly candid.

Along the way she gives satisfyingly step-by-step believable accounts of some well-known to lost forever cult and individual favorites (some never got beyond the arduous planning and early deals) and she lets drops phrases that characterize swiftly how this or that aspect of this complicated art is viewed by its practitioners: such as the eponymous book or novelist-memoirist’s vision is “the underlying material” for the films. While Eaton’s explanations for why the program has held on for so long (they are “family stories, sagas, about love, betrayal, money, infatuation, illness, family deception &c&c) are wholly unsubtle and could be said of poor programming, and she shows that she reflects the commonalty of viewers; nonetheless, now and again for this or that specific series, she also shows she understood very well a political vision, how it fit into a contemporary sociological moment. She lets us know how some of the corporate funding after the mid-1980s when it seemed all but Mobil and the oil companies acted on a new realization that corporations did not need to appear civic-minded or anything but ruthless, and that when their agents discoveed that Eaton would not re-shape a program to fit an ideology (standing firm, sometimes almost alone — she tells instances and names names) she was in continual danger of being fired.

eatonrbaker
Rebecca Eaton with Russell Baker, the host for the show after Alistair Cooke retired — they are on the set for the introductions in the 1990s — note the fire in the hearth, comfortable easy-chair …. library look)

It is also an autobiography, a seeming Horatio Alger paradigm, écriture-femme style. It’s cyclical. She opens with a photo of her mother, Katherine Emery Eaton, who she presents as a successful serious actress and “glamorous movie star” who gave up her career to stay at home as a mother and wife: its in an old (built in 1800) house, her home for many years in Kennebunkport (labryinthine, spooky), which she cherishes, whose image and memories were part of her core impulse to work for and support Masterpiece Theater, but which she tells us on the first page no longer contain her parents, daughter or husband. She closes on her present apartment in Cambridge, Mass, a divorced woman whose daughter she reminds us was named after her grandmother and is now in theater and close to her. This private story of a husband who adjusted his career to bring up, be more at home with the one daughter (someone had to), and her distant relationship with that daughter until the girl grew up is woven in for about 2/3s of the way.

I say seeming because the story is also a justification, an explanation for why nowadays there are so fewer multi-episode (3 is become common) expensively produced carefully meditated productions from literary masterpieces. She is telling us how she did the best she could, how the recent spread of violent thrillers, cynical reactionary adaptations of contemporary novels (something in the vein of Breaking Bad, British style), seems at times to take over the time slot; her lot is fighting a continually uphill struggle where she lurches from acquiring, purchasing BBC and British productions, to producing them with the BBC and from the 1980s alonside or in competition with increasingly tough competition, in the UK, the ITV (Granada) channels, London Weekend, and in the US, cable, A&E, HBO, new technologies which allow viewers to curate and watch programs according to their own schedule (using DVDs, streaming, Netflix). It’s told in a peculiar way. A single person (named and the boss who wanted to get rid of our heroine) theatens a wasteland. Each curve ball or crisis is averted by the sudden unexpectedly widely popular good quality, subtle, intelligent adaptation. So the book reads like a series of rescues. She is not so much the rescuer as the person on the spot when circumstances come together so that a product (most often only a mini-series can provide the amount of ballast needed) is on offer which rescues them.

According to Eaton, Masterpiece theater as “the home for classy drama” (Alistair Cookie’s phrase)

cookiemonster

began when the first The Forsyte Saga developed a visible passionate following (fanbases made themselves felt before the Internet too), and attracted a man from Mobil, Herbert Schmertz (who loved dramas set before the 20th century); at the time Mobil was competing with other oil corporations in the 1970s who thought that they need to be seen as civic-minded (no more). The result: a stream of progressive superb mini-series from the 70s,enough of which were as avidly watched (Poldark, The Pallisers) until well into the later 1980s (The Jewel in the Crown). Eaton does not say this explicitly, but the re-creation of Poldark in terms similar to the 1970s is a bid to create a new and bring along the old fanbase for the Winston Graham historical novels (due Spring 2015); so too the filmically innovative Death Comes to Pemberley just before it (fall 2014) is a carefully calibrated appeal to the changed expanded Jane Austen audience

eleanortomlinsondemelza
A new Demelza who looks like some of the 1960s illustrations from the Bodley Head Poldark edition — Eleanor Tomlinson is also the new Georgiana, sister of

A genuinely tried Darcy and Elizabeth:

Maturecouple
The film does interesting things with Darcy, makes his character more understandable, Elizabeth’s more mature, and as to film: voice-over entangling with shot-reverse shot, scene juxtaposition

The later 1980s, the Thatcher years were the first set back with destructive re-organizations and competitive contracts of packaged dramas at British TV; an occasional return to the old model using new film techniques taken from commercial theater (the 1991 Clarissa) did not seem to help, until the new “savior” appeared: Middlemarch and the art of Andrew Davies.

middlemarch
I still find it painful to watch the failure of Lydgate (Douglas Hodge) unaware how another’s supposed weak view of the world, Rosamund’s (Treveyn McDowell) can wreck dreams no one else can appreciate

I am aware that there are sheaf of essays on the filmic Middlemarch, that it was admired and is still loved — its exquisite historical feel, a breathe of wide humanity, great acting, relevance (the failed career of Lydgate). Eaton recounts losses: how could she have been so stupid as to let go of Davies’s Pride and Prejudice to A&E. It was then she did bow to corporate pressure: a one-time quickie Poldark denuded of all politics will stand for one resulting flop.

But amid these “dark days” she did not forget her job — she attempted to bring into Masterpiece adaptations of good American books. Maybe that was what was needed. If American producers and funders could not begin to understand a British Cornish regional novel, this they might get. She had successes but there are more sad stories, of fine projects that never got off the ground amid a protracted process: The Glass Menagerie with Meryl Streep didn’t happen. She wanted to call her dream The American Collection. Those who helped included Paul Newman’s wife, Joanne Woodward, and they did Our Town for which Paul Newman earned an Emmy. About the size of what she could achieve was Mark and Livy, the story of Mark Twain and his wife. It seems that Anglophilia is the fuel of Masterpiece and Americans don’t value their own great books. At one point she was told “not to be ridiculous.”

07NATheAbbey1
Catherine (Felicity Jones) and Henry Tilner (J.J.Feilds) approach Northanger Abbey

Then another fortuitious rescue occurred. Most people seem unaware that the evolving Jane Austen canon came to the rescue again. Since they were done on the cheap, each only 108 minutes at most (depending on where you watched them, it could be as little as 83 minutes) the 2007-8 Mansfield Park (not noticed for Wadey’s take in which the men are ritually humiliated instead of the women), Persuasion (daringly shown to be the trauma of loss it is), and Northanger Abbey (a delightful Davies product) have not been paid serious attention to by film studies people. But these one-shot Austen films were, according to Eaton, central in reviving film adaptations of classic books subtly and originally done again. The three were great draws. By that time she had gotten the rights to Davies’ 1995 P&P so they were accompanied by this P&P and Davies 1996 Emma. She is a great friend of Davies. The next year ahe was able to execute produce Davies’s Sense and Sensibility (with Anne Pivcevic, a long time associate of his), and Gwyneth Hughes’s Miss Austen Regrets. And she used her technique of purchase and cooperative funding to make a 4 part mini-series once again: the Australian Lost in Austen, better liked than people have been willing to admit.

cranford
Michael Grambon, Judi Dench and Lisa Dillon as Mr Holbrook, Matty Jenkyns, and Mary Smith

I was surprised by her then singling out Cranford Chronicles, to which she also attributes the resurgence of whatever is left of the older Masterpiece theater film adaptation and serious domestic drama impulse. The chapter on Cranford Chronicles is the richest of the book. We go from first idea and objections: whoever heard of Elizabeth Gaskell, much less Lady Ludlow? (Cranford was dropped as a school text in the US at the beginning of the 20th century.) Constant trips, lunches, deals sealed with a famous actress on board (Judi Dench), then unsealed, then lost from view, then picked up again, the whole process of acquiring screenplay writer, of writing with her, the sets, how dissatisfied people are with the first rushes, and how they try again and finally have a winner.

When at the close of the book she talks of Downton Abbey trying to explain its draw she identifies what I’ll call a communitarian ideal (she’d never use that phrase) — it’s this sense of loving socially conscientious community where most of the characters in Downton are well-meaning or basically good, with the exception of over-the-top monsters (Vera Bates) or one violent rapist who we know would do it again, no one is ejected, everyone treated with dignity and concern. Well this is the great appeal of Cranford Chronicles too — and Heidi Thomas does one better by allying the stories with progressive ideals. Eaton though singles Cranford out because not just its wide audience (after all Davies had trumped with a new Little Dorrit, Bleak House, a deeply moving Dr Zhivago rivaling and rewriting Pasternak’s novel against David Lean’s reading) but because she does see how it speaks to our times, fairy tale fashion. It must be admitted in this book she spends little time worrying whether a given mini-series reflects its era or particular author — perhaps she leaves that to screenplay writer, producer and director. I note the same film-makers recur for movies made from the same author (e.g. Louis Marks for Dickens). For her warm-hearted Cranford led to warm-hearted Downton.

Her book is meant to function today, 2014 and that too is why two chapters on Downton Abbey are devoted heavily to Downton Abbey, its lead-in, production, aftermath. She talks about why she thinks the program became a sociological event, and now an adjective: it appeared at the right time that year (before the new Upstairs/Downstairs which she says was found to be too dark, too pessimimistic, to much a mirror of our era); the house matters (as did Castle Howard for Brideshead). I’ve just written a paper on Andrew Davies’s Trollope adaptations as part of an anthology on British serial drama and found it distorting to see its purview (it too begins with The Forstye Saga and ends on DA) skewed by too many references to this program. The book is typical; I’ve seen this over-emphasis repeatedly. After all filmically it’s utterly conventional; if it is liberal in its attitudes towards sexuality and the human topics it will broach, it keeps the old decorum up. Its political outlook is one which looks upon the French Revolution as unfortunate, providing only an amelioration; now if only the Granthams had lived in France during the famine. They’d have provided jobs and meals. Nowhere does Fellowes show us that such a house was a power-house, a linch-pin in repressive controlling economic and political arrangements from the which local magistrates and MPs emerged to conscript soldiers and sailors. Everyone who knows anything about country houses knows this.

She does explain why the fuss. The outrageous ratings — it easily beat out Breaking Bad and Madman the first year in the Emmy prize race. It’s a selling card when you want to pitch a new fine series. And to give credit where credit it is, it is high quality; the characters are (as Eaton would no doubt tell us) compelling, psychologically complex; no expense is spared, the actors superb. It is great soap opera and as a woman defending women’s art, I too cry it up (with all the reservations above) as using brilliantly what this individual form in structure can do. She describes the series as a community — that’s soap opera. Mrs Hughes (Phyllis Logan) rescues Mr Carson’s Jim Carter) old time colleague form the music hall from the local workhouse is a single anecdote, but it gathers all its strength by how its embedded in four seasons of memories about these characters. She does not mention that one of its strengths is it is not limited by a nineteenth-century text censored by Mudie’s Library. We can see how a rape plays out.

LadyRosamundEdith
Did Lady Rosamund (Samantha Bond) have a baby out of wedlock and give it up before she married Painswick — soap opera communities license us to look beyond what we can see and hear, to a past to be unearthed

How does an executive producer spend her days. Ceaseless socializing, phone calls, pitches, deciding. She does tell much of this throughout the book and in the chapter on Cranford, but she characterizes her job in another chapter again. She’s in on the film editing, how long the film can be, how its final scene plays. Along the way we learn of how she finally found some stable funding. She garnered as a well-heeled contributor Viking Cruises because a survey she did showed a surprising percentage of people who take cruises to Europe also watch Masterpiece Theater loyally. So she pitched this customer favorite to the running the cruises. She created Masterpiece Trust where wealthy people contribute and get to be named and also introduce the program. Perhaps the unashamed commercials for Ralph Lauren clothes (all expensive artifice) might jar more than the old more discreet pitches for oil and gas companies (but we should remember when we shudder at the anorexic women that they are not encouraging others to drop bombs to ensure Lauren’s profit). One of my books on women’s films has a whole section on how even costume dramas — those set say in the 18th century at any rate and after influence women’s wear. In the 1970s many of the costumes were Laura Ashley like creations — somewhere half between the 18th century and elegant clothes in the 1970s. I note that a certain kind of shawl is now popular since it became omnipresent in the costume dramas of the 2000s Obviously the Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and other stars influenced people — remember Annie Hall, the Annie Hall style … This has long been known and at the close of films nowadays you will see little icons for fashion designers and makers of clothes who the costume designer worked with. So Eaton asked herself who has their product been an advertiser for …

A smaller strand of the book is her relationship with the people who do Mystery! and how and when decisions were made to bring Mystery! material over to Masterpiece. Sometimes it seems as if Masterpiece gets the best of Mystery! they took Prime Suspect (Helen Mirren), and now the new Sherlock (Bernard Cumberbatch). Sometimes a book that one might expect to be on Masterpiece turns up on Mystery!. We are not told why all the time.

rigg
With Diana Rigg on the set of The Heat of the Day (Elizabeth Bowen’s masterpiece on a Mystery! set — but then she was hostess for Mystery! for a while)

The book ends on what she called “the Downton effect” and returns to her personal motivation, satisfactions, and present. It does sound a bit lonely in that apartment. She likes to think of this program she’s served for so many years as she does her life, intertwined memories. The book has flaws; it does not begin to tell all. A full history would be a couple of thick volumes. What has made her the success she is, her rough-and-ready way of seeing things broadly, as some common denominator of intelligent person might, her upbeatness still don’t get too much in the way of sufficient candor. She describes behavior on the sets as no love-fest, and in the various stories of programs that never made it it’s often someone’s ego or a demand for a higher salary that got in the way. She says spontaneous group scenes for photographs are rare. The book never drips; it moves on and has a hardness. It’s apparent she’s not retiring yet. She won me over at any rate. The originating impulse was to do all her mother had not been able to do — she sets up the black-and-white photo near her bed on its last page.

upstarsdownstairs
She gives credit to where it’s due: Jean Marsh and Eileen Atkins’s conception of having downstairs get more than equal time to upstairs after watching The Forsyte Saga.

Ellen

Read Full Post »

NPG P214; Anthony Trollope by Julia Margaret Cameron
Anthony Trollope, traveler — photo by Julia Cameron

Dear friends and readers,

This blog contains some enjoyable ironies for the Trollopian who knows that three years ago Simon Heffer wrote a sweepingly dismissive assessment of Anthony Trollope’s novels for the Telegraph. I’m delighted to announce I’m going at long last to teach a course in Anthony Trollope’s writing; it’ll occur this coming fall at the OLLI (Oscher Lifelong Learning Institute) at American University; and at the same time chuffed to be able to see a review I wrote of Heffer’s doorstop of a book on the Victorian Age,

SimonHefer

appear on the Victorian Web, beautifully composited with effective appropriate illustrations. You see there are no novels Heffer better elucidates than Anthony Trollope’s Barsetshire and Palliser novels.

Not that the course I’m planning is going to contextualize Trollope as The Chronicler of Barsetshire (the title of a biography by R.H. Super), and, say, begin with The Warden or Dr Thorne (the first novel by Trollope I ever read, one assigned in an undergraduate course at Queens College, CUNY), with due transitions from The Small House at Allingham to the Pallisers who also dwell in Barset (the train station is there).

cathderale
One of John Everett Millais’s vignette for The Small House.

Nothing wrong in that except it’s a distortion. Trollope began as an Anglo-Irish novelist, and far from an aberation, his travel stories and novellas, e.g., Nina Balatka (the story of fierce conflicts between Jews and Christians in Prague)

Charles2
Modern photo of Charles River, Prague — plays an important role in Nina Balatka

were written before his seminal political novel, Phineas Finn. He was a contemporary political novelist, travel-writer and editor as much as a dreamer-escapist, romancer, brillant psychologist and careful artist. Anyway that’s how I’m going to present him.

Here’s the proposal I wrote:

Anthony Trollope is one of the greatest nineteenth-century novelists whom many readers still come into contact for the first time on their own — that is, without having been assigned to read first in school. His books have survived almost on their own, but their variety is not widely known and consequently the familiar ones “imperfectly understood” (one of his phrases). He is central in the history of the political novel; he wrote novellas in the Henry James mode, passionate romances, & medium-length radical realism set in many places outside as well as in England. He edited central Victorian journals. The goal of this course will be to enjoy and see Trollope from the lens of a more adequate perspective than the man from Barsetshire. This will be a two semester course.

As those who teach Victorian novels know, the great obstacle to success is the typical length of the powerful good books (we are talking 700-900 pages) so I did a sleight of hand. I did not begin with The Macdermots of Ballycloran because powerful political tragic romance that it is, it is also long: I chose for a starter instead Trollope’s startling landscape Irish novella, An Eye for an Eye. I allowed but one l-o-n-g book: Phineas Finn.

74Pallisers36Phineas1

74Pallisers36MadameMax2
From The Pallisers: 3:6 (Phineas [Donal McCann] as Madame Max [Barbara Murray] first sees him, and Madame Max as he first sees her)

All others are novellas and short stories (James Thompson’s Complete Trollope is available in many copies for $4) with one medium-length realistic radical book, Lady Anna.

The syllabus is not written in cement (I’ll eliminate texts if students feel we need to), but here’s the plan:

Week 1: An Eye for an Eye (201 pages)

Week 2: “La Mere Bauche” (21 pages), “A Ride Across Palestine” (26), Returning Home” (16), and “Aaron Trowe.” (20)

Week 3 : Nina Balatka (195)

Week 4: “Parsons Daughter at Oxney Colne” (22), discussion of Barsetshire mythic place, and begin Phineas Finn (altogether 714 pages over 4 weeks or 178 pages a week)

Week 5: Phineas Finn

Week 6: Phineas Finn

Week 7: Phineas Finn and excerpt from those parts of Pallisers films drawn from Phineas I

Week 6: “Spotted Dog” (34), “Why Frau Frohman Raised her Prices” (50)

Week 7: Lady Anna (513 pages over 4 weeks, so 128 a week)

Week 9: Lady Anna

Week 10: Lady Anna

Week 11: Lady Anna and “Malachi’s Cove,” (16 pages) (with 30 minutes of TV film).

For afficionados, I do have a VHS copy of the fine 75 minute film adaptation of Trollope’s “Malachi’s Cove” which we’ll also read (about people in Cornwall who make a precarious living gathering seaweed off of cliffs).

donaldpleasanceveronicaquillligan
Donald Pleasance as Malachi and Veronica Quilligan as his granddaughter

Some rationales: “La Mere Bauche” and “A Ride Across Palestine” puts paid to the idea Trollope is not openly erotic; “Returning Home” and “Aaron Trowe” are about colonialism from the point of view of desperate settlers; “Parsons Daughter” besides its poignant psychological ironies can stand in for Barsetshire impulses (its landscape in Devon). I have two editors’ tales which Trollope said were the best fictions he ever wrote (“Spotted Dog” and “Frau Frohman”). Trollope once said he meant Lady Anna to begin an Australian series (our hero and heroine set out for Australia since society they feel will be more open to their union than in England). I regret not having a Christmas story at the last (the course ends in December) but then Trollope disliked having to write them for the market even if he wrote a a genuinely traumatic comedy out of his reluctance (“Christmas at Thompson Hall”).

What will the second semester be like? one long book again, either a political Palliser or one of the novels which have become “signatures” for him (Last Chronicle of Barset, or He Knew He Was Right, or The Way We Live Now), with a different choice of novellas, short fiction and realism, to bring out other aspects of his career or themes, his artistry. I’d love a travel book but they are huge, and the one abridgement, of North America, is long out of print. Hardly any copies anywhere. If I should live so long.

The great fun of teaching at OLLI is not only are the students enthusiastic, intelligent older people, you don’t have to choose a traditional topic or author — Trollope is that. Someone suggested to me that a semester of Winston Graham’s Poldark novels, planned to coincide with the airing of the new coming mini-series would be very well received so Trollope II would have to wait. I’m not going anywhere.

aidanturner
Aidan Turner to be the new Ross Poldark — do not hold The Hobbit against him (he also played Dante Gabriel Rossetti)

EleanorTomlinson
Eleanor Tomlinson the new Demelza (she was Georgiana Darcy in Death Comes to Pemberley) — this photo as illustration recalls one of the frontispieces of the Poldark novels (1960s)

Ellen

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 208 other followers