Barchester Towers, by Anthony Trollope
Published in 1857, this is book 2 of Trollope’s Barchester series, but I thought it stood alone pretty well. I’m sure I would have had a deeper appreciation for the characters if I’d read The Warden first, but here we are.
This is a book about local church politics in 19th century England. We open on the deathbed of the bishop of Barchester, attended by his son and his son’s father-in-law (both also clergymen).
The bishop’s son, Dr. Grantly, is not made bishop upon his father’s demise (he doesn’t know the right people in government at the time), so we meet Dr. Proudie, the new bishop, who arrives with his ambitious wife and extra-ambitious personal Chaplain Mr. Slope.
The new bishop, his wife, and Mr. Slope immediately stir the clerical pot at Barchester when there are clerical appointments with comfortable incomes to fill and numerous clergy about, all circling these positions.
There are political machinations, betrayals, misunderstandings, proposals, and comedy all at play in this book.
Trollope has a habit of spending a chapter introducing each new character or family, which is helpful on the one hand and delays the story on the other.
While there are characters to root for–and some who grew on me by the end–there are many characters who are either slimy (Mr. Slope is apparently literally so as several characters go out of their way to avoid touching his moist hand), over-ambitious (Mrs. Proudie rules the roost as behind-the-scenes bishopess), completely mercenary (the Stanhope family), or who are just barely on this side of likable (Mr. Grantly, who recruits actively against Mr. Slope and who misunderstands his sister-in-law Eleanor). Even the attractive widow, Eleanor Bold, whom the narrator obviously favors, is not completely without her faults, which I appreciated.
The church politics may be a bit confusing at times and the pacing a bit uneven, but the characters in this book are great fun and I enjoyed this foray into the fictional county of Barchester. Does one county require quite so many clergymen though?