Dear Serial Readers,
Julia's comment about the illustrations reminded me of a few I found on the internet. This one (see sidebar) comes with the caption, "The Beginning of Troubles," the title of Chapter 7. However, I thought the usual format for the installments in The Cornhill was a Millais illustration as a frontispiece at the start of the set of three chapters, but not necessarily for the chapter that opens the monthly segment. In any case, any thoughts about where this image (see sidebar) matches the narrative?
This week's portion makes me think of simultaneity--how the narrator points out the mental states of characters at the same time as their external behavior and as ongoing conditions that we readers are able to see, thanks to the narrator's reflections. But how well are characters able to comprehend the mental states of their companions? Trollope provides different instances of simultaneity here. To provide one of many examples: we learn about Crosbie's "melancholy fits" and his concern about his pinched finances given his impending marriage. Then the narrator shifts to Lily at the "Small House," with the question, "And what was the state of Lily's mind at the same moment...?" So we're primed to think of correspondences in this way too.
Then there are the narrator's interventions, his thoughts on the players and actions in the story he's unfolding. This narrator has such presence in the novel, as some of you have pointed out! He has no pity for the "Mrs Boyces," he lets us know, and he thinks there's some lurking aggression behind the polite phrase, "It is nice of you to come early," delivered by Lily to Mrs Eames before the other guests have arrived for the party. These too might be considered a kind of simultaneity, a running commentary on characters and their actions (whether internal or external) as they occur.
I was thinking of other kinds of simultaneities too even beyond the installment. In this issue (as well as the previous two) of The Cornhill, George Eliot's serial novel Romola was also appearing. How did readers juggle the simultaneity of different plot lines and casts of characters, one in a contemporary English country setting, the other in late 15th-century Florence?
What else are you reading now? What is the simultaneity of your reading practice these days?
For next week, chapters 10-12.
Simultaneously Serial,
Susan
5 comments:
I'm struck by how the drawing makes the women look like haystacks, and thus another type of property.
I'm just catching up with this reading, so I read Susan's first entry before I began and I thought: who would I pair with whom? I find that no man is worthy of Bell and Lily yet, unless the Dr., who has so far been a bit taciturn so I can't tell. I think Amelia and our Apollo deserve each other, though I can't imagine any set of events that would bring that about.
As Susan pointed out, the Victorian serial writers also had readers imploring them to adapt their plots, though they may not have had quite as much of an effect as wovel readers, and I read in the intro to my very old text that many readers implored Trollope to marry Johnny Eames to Lily. At this point, however, I'm with Joshua and I think it will take a great deal to make me fond enough of Eames to believe he's a good partner for Lily.
Like Maura, the character I most want to see in a happy relationship is Mrs. Dale--how nice that would be. One reader suggested the Squire may change and I'd be fascinated to see that. To some extend the characters all seem two-dimensional to me so far, though as some of you have observed Trollope has sympathy for almost all. I'll be interested to see to what extent they can grow and change.
Susan's simultaneity comment correlates to some extent to what I was thinking about money. I used to obsess over what a pound at the time of the novel would be in dollars now, but now I see that the money can be understood purely relationally, and I find that intriguing. I was struck by how these characters with vastly different notions of "enough" exist in the same circles. I thought that Adolphius's dissatisfaction with 800 pounds in relation to Eames' realization that his 90 pounds/year is not *quite* enough might be similar to a novel today that had one character living in NYC on $26,000/year and another just scraping by with $250,000. I wonder what contemporary novelist would write about such two characters, along with the rest of the range here, and who would name their salaries. Thinking about this makes me see Trollope as much more interested in economic justice than I did before.
I'm also reading a book on the formation of the concept of English identity right now, and I just finished one of Follet's novels about the Middle Ages. I find it easy for my brain to read in different plots--as it's also easy to understand how people can exist in such different economic strata and all be just scraping by. I just scrape by while buying my clothes at Ann Taylor Loft, others just scrape by while shopping at Walmart, others while shopping on the Upper East Side.
So, on this night of the inauguration, I'll look out for change in the characters! --Kari
I think that every novel I read from the English nineteenth century is about economic justice and injustice and the overlapping concerns of class. Some more than others. I think this is a fascinating issue that one of you academic types should write a book about.
I've been confused about our rhythm here, so I've only just gotten caught up. I am finding this novel easier to read in the weekly serial phases than Dombey, which I either couldn't read fast enough or (ultimately) slowly enough to stick with the program.
I am otherwise reading assorted American history, The Old Curiosity Shop (honestly, I've yet to begin), Updike stories, appellate case law.
What I found interesting is that we get much of Lily and Crosbie's mental state, but Trollope does not describe Crofts mental state with as much clarity. He seems to be talking about his own take on marriage when he and Bell talk about Lily and Crosbie, but we don't know exactly what he thinks - only Bell's reaction to it. I guess the closure of Crosbie's proposal (even if he regrets it) allows certain disclosures, where an open-ended marriage plot warrants fewer disclosures.
As for other reading - I am reading a lot of Aurora Leigh criticism and some of George Eliot and Virginia Woolf's essays. I find it hard to hold myself back and not read more than one installment at a time - especially because my other reading is not in installments.
7-8-9 -- Burt
Comment about Dr. Croft being “reserved” – very true. I noted:
We meet Croft (93-95) and he keeps sighing great hints to Lily that his lack of money is what is holding him back. Kind of cold and colorless in this chapter.
Question of the value of money in Victorian Times.
When I was active on the Victoria Net some years ago, I raised the same question. I was very worried as to how Dorothea in Middlemarch was going to support herself and her her husband, Will, on just a few thousand pounds. She had just given up a huge inheritance by marrying Will. After much discussion and fun, we decided that one pound then had the purchasing power now of at least 200 dollars (1 x 5 x 40). Of course what a person needed to purchase then was vastly different than our current needs.
Side Readings: I joined a local library book club recently and we did James’ short novel, “Washington Square”.. As I reread it I viewed the movie again. Last week we did 12 adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which I had read as a youth and in Late Victorian classes. Some were unaware that Wilkie Collins had been 19 years ahead with his detective in “The Moonstone”. In class, with Doyle I enjoyed looking up words he uses that are unfamiliar to me – I make short lists. When Holmes offered Watson the use of his gasogene in one episode, I found a great web site that has both a building and an apartment set up to duplicate that of the book. It has many photographs and I brought the class and now the group a color picture of a gasogene – a gadget to make carbonated water! Any Sherlock Holmes fans out there? If so, I’ll send you the web address. I know that I should be adventuresome, but some of their choices are really “off the wall” to me. I’m going to wait for “Adam Bede” in a few months – give away my Victorian preference.
Lily naïve, bouncy, says whatever is on her mind, we love her
Bell says little, but she is more mature, sincere, we like & value her
Squire mean, stubborn, sob by our standards—ok by his and to him
Crosbie keeps saying he loves her, he will stick to her, BUT oh at such great cost
to his dreams and plans and personal comfort.
I’ll have more to say about Crosbie and Bernard with next week’s chapters.
Wonderful, beautiful, caring description of Lily’s understanding of love (96-98). We love her and think that she is much too good for Crosbie’s type of man.
The more we see and know Bernard, we don’t find him what lovely, thoughtful Bell deserves (this chapter and prior).
WHY OH WHY does Trollope keep pushing EAMES and prior chapters 33-34.
I can see no winning qualities in his background, personality, lack of judgement, or behavior. He moons for Lily, big deal! But doesn’t feel able or know how to do anything about it!
Prompted by previous posts (and my own simultaneous and unrelated reading about advertising and its cultural conventions), I have been thinking this week about gender construction. I was fascinated by the way that Lily's love is so bold and brave--coded masculine despite the foreboding suggestion that should any "slip" occur "between the cup and the lip...the cup would have been so shattered in its fall that no further piecing of its parts would be in any way possible" (p. 84). In contrast, Crosbie's love seems so tentative, hidden--perhaps coded as feminine in some ways? This kind of disruption of gender stereotypes is echoed even in the more demure Bell, who inwardly disputes with Crofts and insists that a woman can bear more than a man (p. 91). And I get a sense that we will return to this vital question--whether a man or a woman can bear more suffering.
As for my simultaneous reading, I've been reading the Romantics alongside Trollope--more specifically, Wordsworth, Scott, and Coleridge. The social world of Trollope is quite a contrast to the solitary and contemplative world of Wordsworth!
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