Coningsby; Or, The New Generation

by Benjamin Disraeli

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Genres: Fiction, Classics, Politics, 19th Century, Novels, British Literature, Victorian

195 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1844

About the author

One of the great British politicians of the nineteenth century, Disraeli served twice as Tory Prime Minister (1868 and 1874 - 1880) and was also a prominent figure in opposition. He is most famous today for the bitter hatred between himself and his political rival William Gladstone. He enjoyed the favour of Queen Victoria, who shared his dislike of Gladstone. His most significant political achievements are the 1867 Reform Act, in which he was instrumental, and the creation of the modern Conservative Party, with which he is credited. His literary career was greatly overshadowed by his parliamentary ambitions ('climbing the greasy pole'), but includes both romances and political novels.

Reviews

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having read and thoroughly enjoyed Disraeli's Sybil, (you can find my observations around here somewhere), I somehow came away with the idea that he had only written a couple of novels and when I stumbled upon this 1940s Modern Library edition (in the rather excellent Pickwick bookstore in Nyack, New York), I envisioned myself shortly having "done" Disraeli's oeuvre. Further research reveals that he wrote at least 18 novels, so you'd have to be a rather ardent enthusiast of Victorian literature (or in pursuit of a PhD) to have read any substantial number of them.
As with Sybil, he creates a set of impossibly idealized central characters, perfect in limb and mind, whose good qualities are extolled at length. His bad guys are merely venal and lack the caricatured evil of a Dickens villain. You have to wade through rather a lot of Disraeli's specific analysis of British politics and general theories of history, and in this book, with one of the protagonists a Jew, the 19th century theories of race can be a bit tough going - but the actual plot, in which the hero honorably gets the girl, is quite straight-forwardly enjoyable.
My edition includes a key mapping every character in the book to his or her probable real-life analog - fascinating in the abstract but would require too deep a dive into the political and social minutia of the day to look them all up and find out more.

[Charlaralotte · Rating 4 out of 5]

Splendid.

I turned to this after rereading Tom Reiss' "The Orientalist." Wanted to read about the status of Jews in 19th Century Britain.

How amazing people were before TV and the internet and twitting. Politicians wrote fine books and knew about art & literature! Obama would have been much happier back then. Well, without the racism, of course...

Anyway, wonderful novel incorporating Disraeli's ideas for a more perfect society. Excellent character descriptions, (naturally) an exceptional grasp of political ideas/movements, and a far-reaching understanding of the smallness of human thinking.

In some ways, very much like reading a Jane Austen novel, but with far more political and social information to keep one from dwelling extensively on the marriage plot. More along the lines of "Middlemarch" in terms of taking in the intricacies of relations. But without the horrible tragedy.

Coningsby is a fine hero, as is Millbank. Their resolution is lovely and utopian. One sighs and wonders why no people seem to arrive at such perfect, good ends.

If only I had learned of the character of Sidonia before I developed that morbid persecution complex from reading Anne Frank too much. Disraeli's ideas of Jews maintaining their racial purity and thus their status as people of superior intellect and character are rather different from 20th century propaganda. I am intrigued with the relatively recent advent of the term "anti-semitism" (late 19th Century) and how at first it referred to both Jews and Moslems.

At any rate, given my placement in the historical spectrum, it'd be rather hypocritical of me to adopt this racial purity business (for one thing, I wouldn't exist if it still existed). But it is nice to find a character like Sidonia who is a very positive portrait of a Jew.

[Ari · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an odd book. Nominally a novel, the plot and setting are pretty much just padding and framing for character sketches and analysis on the politics of the era. Its purpose is not so much to entertain as to explain the views of the author, B. Disraeli, MP. It's distinctly Victorian, with very long digressions by the author, a preference for telling rather than showing, no great efforts at characterization, and a tendency to idealize. It's not enough to be a nice day it must be the nicest day that was ever seen in that county.

Conigsby would be forgettable if not for two things --
1) The author was a well-connected MP and does a great deal of telling and showing about political practice of the 1830s and 40s. Here we see two Tory operatives planning their election strategy:

‘I tell you it is “carte blanche,”’ replied Tadpole. ‘Four places in the cabinet. Two secretaryships at the least. Do you happen to know any gentleman of your acquaintance, Mr. Taper, who refuses Secretaryships of State so easily, that you can for an instant doubt of the present arrangement?’
‘I know none indeed,’ said Mr. Taper, with a grim smile.
‘The thing is done,’ said Mr. Tadpole.
‘And now for our cry,’ said Mr. Taper.
‘It is not a Cabinet for a good cry,’ said Tadpole; ‘but then, on the other hand, it is a Cabinet that will sow dissension in the opposite ranks, and prevent them having a good cry.’
‘Ancient institutions and modern improvements, I suppose, Mr. Tadpole?’
‘Ameliorations is the better word, ameliorations. Nobody knows exactly what it means.’
‘We go strong on the Church?’ said Mr. Taper.
‘And no repeal of the Malt Tax; you were right, Taper. It can’t be listened to for a moment.’
‘Something might be done with prerogative,’ said Mr. Taper; ‘the King’s constitutional choice.’
‘Not too much,’ replied Mr. Tadpole. ‘It is a raw time yet for prerogative.’
‘Ah! Tadpole,’ said Mr. Taper, getting a little maudlin; ‘I often think, if the time should ever come, when you and I should be joint Secretaries of the Treasury!’
‘We shall see, we shall see. All we have to do is to get into Parliament, work well together, and keep other men down.’
‘We will do our best,’ said Taper. ‘A dissolution you hold inevitable?’
‘How are you and I to get into Parliament if there be not one? We must make it inevitable. I tell you what, Taper, the lists must prove a dissolution inevitable. You understand me? If the present Parliament goes on, where shall we be? We shall have new men cropping up every session.’
‘True, terribly true,’ said Mr. Taper. ‘That we should ever live to see a Tory government again! We have reason to be very thankful.’
‘Hush!’ said Mr. Tadpole. ‘The time has gone by for Tory governments; what the country requires is a sound Conservative government.’
‘A sound Conservative government,’ said Taper, musingly. ‘I understand: Tory men and Whig measures.’

2) The author wasn't just an MP, but, at the time this book as written, was well on his way to being the leader of the Tory party. Eight years after publication, he would be Chancellor of the Exchequer and Leader of the House of Commons; a few years later he would be Prime Minster. Moreover, he was one of the leading theorists about what a 19th century conservative party should be. This was his first really "political" novel, and so it's quite interesting as an exposition of his views.

Those views are...a little weird. Disraeli makes a great show of mocking the Conservatives of the day for being unprincipled and confused -- he has fairly harsh remarks for both Peel and Wellington, the party's two great statesmen. But in alternative he casts up a romantic vision of aristocracy, ludicrously out of date, and a general sentiment in favor of vigorous government.

For somebody carrying on about English tradition, Disraeli is shockingly bold about praising Jews and Judaism. He's kinda racialist -- but in ways more likely to discomfort than to sooth his English readers. Here is is talking about a Jewish character:

In his comprehensive travels, Sidonia had visited and examined the Hebrew communities of the world. He had found, in general, the lower orders debased; the superior immersed in sordid pursuits; but he perceived that the intellectual development was not impaired. This gave him hope. He was persuaded that organisation would outlive persecution. When he reflected on what they had endured, it was only marvellous that the race had not disappeared. They had defied exile, massacre, spoliation, the degrading influence of the constant pursuit of gain; they had defied Time. For nearly three thousand years, according to Archbishop Usher, they have been dispersed over the globe. To the unpolluted current of their Caucasian structure, and to the segregating genius of their great Law-giver, Sidonia ascribed the fact that they had not been long ago absorbed among those mixed races, who presume to persecute them, but who periodically wear away and disappear, while their victims still flourish in all the primeval vigour of the pure Asian breed.

That is, the Jews are great because racially pure -- unlike the English, who are a mix of Saxon and Norman. This is taking contemporary prejudices and standing them on their heads.

One adjective that leaps to mind is "Trumpy." Like Mr Trump, Disraeli was a complete outsider -- son of a middle class jew -- with no definite principles, and a talent for demagoguery. Disraeli put himself at the head of the pro-Corn Law faction of the Tory party -- that is, the faction that was prepared to starve Ireland and squeeze the English working class to prop up grain prices and sustain the rural gentry. In Conigsby, he goes on and on about how the Tory leaders are sellouts without principles -- but has no definite principles of his own. His movement was called "Young England" -- a charmingly vague name.

Trump has an authoritarian streak -- Disraeli wants to speak up for the power and authority of hereditary lords and royal prerogative. Trump is personally insulting. Disraeli is too. Here's his description of Lord Liverpool and his government:

the Arch-Mediocrity who presided, rather than ruled, over this Cabinet of Mediocrities, became hourly more conscious that the inevitable transition from fulfilling the duties of an administration to performing the functions of a government could not be conducted without talents and knowledge. The Arch-Mediocrity had himself some glimmering traditions of political science. He was sprung from a laborious stock, had received some training, and though not a statesman, might be classed among those whom the Lord Keeper Williams used to call ‘statemongers.’ In a subordinate position his meagre diligence and his frigid method might not have been without value; but the qualities that he possessed were misplaced; nor can any character be conceived less invested with the happy properties of a leader. In the conduct of public affairs his disposition was exactly the reverse of that which is the characteristic of great men. He was peremptory in little questions, and great ones he left open.

One learns a great deal from this book. At one point, he has several characters arguing about the Bedchamber Crisis -- the last moment when a British monarch asserted personal prerogatives against the will of the prime minister. Disraeli highlights something I had never noticed before, which is the party dynamics and the brazen hypocrisy of it all. The crisis happened when a Tory Prime Minster -- Peel -- wanted to remove the ladies of the bedchamber that his Whig predecessor had put in, and whom Victoria wished to keep. That is, the Tory party -- those stalwart defenders of the traditional constitution -- were trying to tell the monarch what to do about a purely personal matter. Meanwhile the Whigs, who had spent a century emasculating and controlling the monarchs, were crying crocodile tears about how hard it was on the young queen to have the favorites of her youth taken away.

More broadly, the fun of the book is that it is a spirited and erudite rebuttal to many of the tenants of "Whig history" that have now become almost the only conventional view.

The great object of the Whig leaders in England from the first movement under Hampden to the last most successful one in 1688, was to establish in England a high aristocratic republic on the model of the Venetian, then the study and admiration of all speculative politicians. Read Harrington; turn over Algernon Sydney; then you will see how the minds of the English leaders in the seventeenth century were saturated with the Venetian type. And they at length succeeded. William III. found them out. He told the Whig leaders, “I will not be a Doge.” He balanced parties; he baffled them as the Puritans baffled them fifty years before. The reign of Anne was a struggle between the Venetian and the English systems. Two great Whig nobles, Argyle and Somerset, worthy of seats in the Council of Ten, forced their Sovereign on her deathbed to change the ministry. They accomplished their object. They brought in a new family on their own terms. George I. was a Doge; George II. was a Doge; they were what William III., a great man, would not be. George III. tried not to be a Doge, but it was impossible materially to resist the deeply-laid combination. He might get rid of the Whig magnificoes, but he could not rid himself of the Venetian constitution. And a Venetian constitution did govern England from the accession of the House of Hanover until 1832. Now I do not ask you, Vere, to relinquish the political tenets which in ordinary times would have been your inheritance. All I say is, the constitution introduced by your ancestors having been subverted by their descendants your contemporaries, beware of still holding Venetian principles of government when you have not a Venetian constitution to govern with. Do what I am doing, what Henry Sydney and Buckhurst are doing, what other men that I could mention are doing, hold yourself aloof from political parties which, from the necessity of things, have ceased to have distinctive principles, and are therefore practically only factions; and wait and see, whether with patience, energy, honour, and Christian faith, and a desire to look to the national welfare and not to sectional and limited interests; whether, I say, we may not discover some great principles to guide us, to which we may adhere, and which then, if true, will ultimately guide and control others.’

[Kristi · Rating 2 out of 5]

1. Too many digressions/rants about politicians/politics of the early 19th c.

2. Pale imitation of Trollope.

3. There are some interesting characters and situations buried amid the rants (this kept me from abandoning the book), but probably not worth the effort.

[ioana · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a huge fan of Victorian political novels and a passionate student of British parliamentary history, I found this book absolutely delightful!

“There are some books, when we close them; one or two in the course of our life, difficult as it may be to analyse or ascertain the cause; our minds seem to have made a great leap. A thousand obscure things receive light; a multitude of indefinite feelings are determined. Our intellect grasps and grapples with all subjects with a capacity, a flexibility, and a vigour, before unknown to us. It masters questions hitherto perplexing, which are not even touched or referred to in the volume just closed. What is this magic? It is the spirit of the supreme author, by a magentic influence blending with our sympathising intelligence, that directs and inspires it. By that mysterious sensibility we extend to questions which he has not treated, the same intellectual force which he has exercised over those which he has expounded. His genius for a time remains in us. ‘Tis the same with human beings as with books. All of us encounter, at least once in our life, some individual who utters words that make us think for ever. There are men whose phrases are oracles; who condense in a sentence the secrets of life; who blurt out an aphorism that forms a character or illustrates an existence. A great thing is a great book; but greater than all is the talk of a great man.” (book III, chapter II)

Coningsby was for me that magical book and Disraeli that great man described in the paragraph above. I have always admired Disraeli both as a writer and as a statesman and counted him as one of my heroes. In Coningsby he conveyed the drama and the excitement of political life in a way no one could. As Robert Blake once put it “his novels are part of his politics and his politics at times seem to be an emanation of his novels.” This is the one novel I could read over and over again for the rest of my life; the book that somehow enlightened my mind and changed its colour forever by interfering with my political views, by inducing me new revolutionary ideas and by throwing a different light upon life. This is the story of young Harry Coningsby and his “New Generation” that redefined British Conservatism, a tale about dreams, heroism, youth, romanticism and greatness.

From the first page I was immediately transported back to 1830s England and I was allowed to get emotionally connected to the characters. Coningsby is an exceptional romantic hero, the idyllic leader one easily gets attached to and simply has to love. But perhaps the most remarkable character I’ve encountered in a book so far was none other than the enigmatic Jewish multimillionaire Monsieur de Sidonia who played a crucial role in the Young England trilogy. His main literary function was that of echoing the author’s voice in a matter most important to Jewish-born Disraeli: the superiority of his own race. As England was not yet prepared to accept a Jewish political hero in fiction, Disraeli created Sidonia to induce to young Coningsby (and later to Tancred too) the idea of purity of race. Sidonia was therefore written as perfect in every aspect, from appearance to conduct and beliefs:

“He brought to the study of this vast aggregate of knowledge a penetrative intellect that, matured by long meditation, and assisted by that absolute freedom from prejudice, which, was the compensatory possession of a man without a country, permitted Sidonia to fathom, as it were by intuition, the depth of questions apparently the most difficult and profound. He possessed the rare faculty of communicating with precision ideas the most abstruse, and in general a power of expression which arrests and satisfies attention. With all this knowledge, which no one knew more to prize, with boundless wealth, and with an athletic frame, which sickness had never tried, and which had avoided excess, Sidonia nevertheless looked upon life with a glance rather of curiosity than content. His religion walled him out from the pursuits of a citizen; his riches deprived him of the stimulating anxieties of a man. He perceived himself a lone being, alike without cares and without duties.” (book IV, chapter X)

No to mention his unforgettable and powerful lines, such as: “Every moment is travel, if understood”, “Youth is a blunder; Manhood a struggle; Old Age a regret”, “Nurture your mind with great thoughts. To believe in the heroic makes heroes” (book III, chapter I), “Man must ever be the slave of routine: but in old days it was a routine of great thoughts, and now it is a routine of little ones.” (book IV, chapter XI), “Man is only truly great when he acts from the passions; never irresistible but when he appeals to the imagination.” (book IV, chapter XIII)

Overall, I found this an engaging, revolutionary and rather challenging read, but I enjoyed every single page. Even the novel’s conclusion, which summarises the principles of Young England, invites the reader to reflect once more. Thus the curtain is drawn over the glorified new generation: “They stand now on the threshold of public life. They are in the leash, but in a moment they will be slipped. What will be their fate? Will they maintain in august assemblies and high places the great truths which, in study and in solitude, they have embraced? Or will their courage exhaust itself in the struggle, their enthusiasm evaporate before hollow-hearted ridicule, their generous impulses yield with a vulgar catastrophe to the tawdry temptations of a low ambition? Will their skilled intelligence subside into being the adroit tool of a corrupt party? Will Vanity confound their fortunes, or Jealousy wither their sympathies? Or will they remain brave, single, and true; refuse to bow before shadows and worship phrases; sensible of the greatness of their position, recognise the greatness of their duties; denounce to a perplexed and disheartened world the frigid theories of a generalising age that have destroyed the individuality of man, and restore the happiness of their country by believing in their own energies, and daring to be great?” (book IX, chapter VII)

[Patrick · Rating 4 out of 5]

The edition from World Classics gave a handy index of the terms used compiled by Sheila Smith. Although it could have gone more into the historical background. The novel is more about the historical political background and Disraeli's political stances than about the story. For a modern reader Disraeli's ideas can come across a bit like 'who care as long as your rich. Heriditary or not .

[Richie Kercenna · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the very few books I have ever abandoned in my life. Honestly, I couldn't go on with it; it felt like a waste of time. Although there is a handful of really interesting characters, the story keeps being interrupted by endless sessions of political rant. It's like you're watching what could be an interesting drama or movie, but the ads are way too long and way too uninteresting.

[Colin Hoad · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had always been an admirer of Disraeli ever since learning about him in history lessons at school. After recently reading 'The Lion and the Unicorn', I thought it was about time I tried one of Disraeli's own novels - and what a pleasant read it has been.

Disraeli ought to be up there with Dickens in terms of his ability to construct beautiful, witty prose with entertaining characters and a strong narrative that tells both a story and conveys a set of ideas and principles. The ostensible tale of a young man of aristocratic pedigree making his way in the world is set against the backdrop of the recently passed 1832 Reform Act and its effects on the politics of the day. Disraeli is merciless in his mockery of the Conservatives, the very party he went on to lead and serve as Prime Minister, as well as certain elements of both the upper and middle classes. His character Rigby is the archetypal unprincipled politician, seeking only his own advancement - often at the expense of others, including the eponymous hero of the novel. Then there is Sidonia, a character one cannot help but think of as an idealised version of Disraeli himself. Lord Monmouth, grandfather to Coningsby, and Mr. Millbank pit the old established aristocratic order against the newly rich manufacturing class - and Disraeli takes care not to cast either as inferior or superior to the other, both being flawed in their own way.

What sets Disraeli apart from other novelists of his time is his ability to imbue even the most cerebral points with a degree of wit and good humour. He is never overly serious, lending the impression that perhaps he never truly took himself too seriously either - and this all adds to the enjoyment of the novel.

I will certainly be reading 'Sybil' and 'Tancred' (the other two novels that form the 'New Generation' trilogy) in due course.

[Joe · Rating 2 out of 5]

Undoubtedly a useful historical insight on Disraeli’s thinking and something of a reflection on the politics of the day, but a fairly awful novel. Often excruciating eulogising of a social class (upper), a large part of which, one suspects, despised the author because of his origins, no matter how useful he may have been politically.

[Matt Downey · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is quite entertaining, has an engaging narrative, and gives great insight into the political atmosphere of its time. One trying to understand the tory/conservative perspective of the great reform act should definetely give this a read.

[Isabella · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the second book I read of Disraeli’s trilogy, and I must admit that “Coningsby” is much better than “Sybil”, whether from a literary aspect or a political one, though the latter is more famous.
Around a young scion of a grand aristocratic family, the plots are rather cliche, with too many twists and poorly developed conspiracies, but I especially like its characters, despite the undeniable fact that lots of them fell into stereotypes. Surprisingly, the most bland character might be Coningsby himself, portrayed mainly as a passive figure. My favorite character Sidonia, a traditional Sage and “a strange fantasy fulfilment of a cross between Baron de Rothschild and Disraeli himself”, is more curious for his mysterious background, Hebrew origin, and inspirational philosophy. His ideas on youth, heroes, reason, and passion are quite fascinating, though somehow more superfluous than practical. Coningsby’s grandfather, Lord Monmouth, and his toady are also interesting characters, representing the determined dominating, cold-hearted, and unscrupulous old aristocracy--indeed, Lord Monmouth is regarded as “far more real” than the rest of the characters in this novel (Robert Blake argued that familiarity with the aristocratic life and politics was the distinctive merit of Disraeli’s novels).
And politics! The whole book mainly criticizes Utilitarianism, Whiggism, and “sham” Conservatism. The first is cruel, erroneous, and would inevitably fail; the second is a complete oligarchy dominated by Whig grandees (I love this line: “The cause for which Hampden died in the field, and Sydney on the scaffold was the cause of the Venetian Republic.”); the third is not even a principle (“What will you conserve?”). The alternative provided, unfortunately, does not sound very reasonable or practical. The principle proposed in this novel is the principle of Young England: a powerful Crown, an independent and responsible aristocracy, and a strong and faithful Church. Such feudal ideas have no place in Victorian England, and, in fact, it is dubious if Disraeli had ever really believed in them. Though without many constructive suggestions, its criticism of Utilitarianism is still excellent and interesting.
I do not say anything about its love story, which is quite boring; the historical narrative, which famously though not very justly labeled Lord Liverpool as “Arch-Mediocrity”, is curious; and by the end, I must quote a very amusing sentence:
“To receive £1,200 per annum is government; to try to receive £1,200 per annum is opposition; to wish to receive £1,200 per annum is ambition.”

[David Montgomery · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'd actually rate this book 2 stars as a novel, and 4 stars as a historical document.

As a novel, it has a plot that meanders slowly for nearly 400 pages, including long diversions in which Disraeli comments on 19th Century British politics, before suddenly rushing to a climax in the last few chapters. Its hero is effortlessly charming, intelligent and moral; a key supporting character is an even more transparent authorial self-insert. The only really interesting characters are a few background political apparatchiks who are mostly played for jokes. Disaeli's prose is florid, most readable during the book's numerous sections of extended political commentary.

But for all its weaknesses as fiction, it's worth remembering that this is a historical artifact, too: a pioneering "political novel" by Benjamin Disraeli, one of the most dominant figures in British politics in the 19th Century. The aim of this book was to promulgate a new vision for the British right wing; Disraeli was scathingly dismissive of the Peelite "Conservative Party" as having no principles — "What," he repeatedly asks, in his own voice and that of characters, "will you conserve?" Disraeli's view is that the "Conservatives" of his day have conceded all the arguments to the left, and are campaigning just on implementing left-wing ideas more slowly and judiciously: "Tory men and Whig measures," as he famously summed it up.

Disraeli's alternative is more... idiosyncratic, a sort of romanticized, anti-parliamentary feudalism with a benevolent absolute monarch at the top of a hierarchical society of orders, mixed with generous paternalistic assistance from the elite to the masses. Of course, all the most intelligent and energetic characters in the book conclude this is obvious, while a range of other figures are — much more relatably — bewildered when Coningsby and his young friends forcefully assert their ideas. But as bizarre as this can seem today (especially the anti-parliamentary angle, given Disraeli's political future), and though Disraeli's attempts to make this into a genuine, real-life mass movement flopped, parts of his ideas here have been influential then and since.

Recommended only if you have a keen interest in 19th Century politics, or the literary history of 19th Century bildungsromans (ideally both).

[Lyrrad Retac · Rating 3 out of 5]

In centuries of history very few statesmen have tried to communicate their view of politics through fiction. In the late 18th century, Sweden’s King Gustav III wrote plays and scenarios for operas that today are interpreted as a kind of savvy propaganda. Vaclav Havel wrote plays of consequence both before he was President of the Czech Republic and after, but never tried to use his plays to advance a political agenda in between. In the late 19th century a young Woodrow Wilson, then a professor of government, made abortive attempts to write short stories, but his were not politically oriented; in fact he used the format to ruminate wistfully about how nice it would be to be an author of fiction. However, later in his career as a professor Wilson renounced (bitterly?) the idea that an aspiring statesman, which he had been since youth, could also write fiction. Look at the novels of British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, Wilson wrote: the characters in those novels aren’t real people, he said, they are mere “chessmen” just like Disraeli’s subordinates in parliament.

But in “Coningsby; or The New Generation” (1844) Parliamentarian Disraeli purported to create something no one had created before: a political philosophy expressed entirely through fiction.

“When I attempted to enter public life,” Disraeli wrote in an 1870 edition of his novels, “I expressed these views, long meditated, to my countrymen, but they met with little encouragement. He who steps out of the crowd is listened to with suspicion or with heedlessness: and forty years ago there prevailed a singular ignorance of the political history of our country. I had no connection either in the press or in public life. I incurred the accustomed penalty of being looked on as a visionary, and what I knew to be facts were treated as paradoxes.”

However, ten years later, Disraeli said, “affairs had changed. I had been some time in Parliament and had friends who had entered public life with myself, and who listened always with interest and sometimes with sympathy to views which I had never ceased to enforce.” These friends suggested he treat “in a literary form those views and subjects which were the matter of our frequent conversation. That was the origin of ‘Coningsby, or the New Generation.’”

Disraeli set about writing his peculiar “visionary” views of British politics, which with regret saw the government as an oligarchy rather than the monarchy it was supposed to be, jettisoned personal identification with with the existing political parties and promoted the hope of the new generation of young aristocratic politicians he had befriended, who by then were known as “Young England.”

Disraeli in the 1870 preface went on: “The derivation and character of political parties; the condition of the people which had been the consequence of them; the duties of the Church as a main remedial agency in our present state; were the three principal topics which I intended to treat … These were all launched in ‘Coningsby,’ but the origin and condition of political parties, the first portion of the theme, was the only one completely handled in that work.”

The novel, which preceded the two other novels in his so-called Young England Trilogy, is a little rough around the edges but is witty, verbose, filled with idiosyncratic historical rumination, very bold and wily politically and also somewhat backward. Disraeli sought to appeal to what were known as the “ultra-Tories,” tacking to the right of then-Prime Minister Robert Peel who is often credited with inventing modern conservatism as he renamed the Tories “the Conservative Party.” Disraeli, expounding on decades of prime ministers both by name and by saucy nickname, throughly rejected the name “Conservative” as a horrible hybrid of “Tory men and Whig measures.”

“What do you mean to conserve?” asks the young hero Coningsby in the novel. “Do you mean to conserve things or only names, realities or merely appearances? Or, do you mean to continue the system commenced in 1834 [after Peel’s Tamworth Manifesto, which spelled out the terms of modern conservatism in the U.K.], and, with a hypocritical reverence for the principles, and a superstitious adhesion to the forms, of the old exclusive constitution, carry on your policy by latitudinarian practice?”

But Disraeli was not wholly ultra-Tory either; he had begun his political career calling himself an independent radical, and endorsed the word “democracy” at a time when it was anathema to both the left and the right of parliamentary politics. That too shows itself in the book.

The characters of Mister Tadpole and Mister Taper, both Tory political hacks who toady up to the landowners, as well as the landowners themselves, come in for sharper criticism than the liberal Whigs.

It has been suggested that Disraeli’s ultra-Tory philosophy was really geared to convince the aristocratic Tories to follow his lead in helping the poor and other victims of the Industrial Revolution and Victorian politics. This was only so evident in his time as prime minister, but he did pass the second Reform Act, which extended the vote to the working class, and oversee several bits of reform legislation geared at helping the oppressed.

It’s not a perfect legacy, but it’s one many fiction writers and statesman might wish for.

[Zandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

A fascinating read, when I worked hard to find it not boring. Disraeli's brilliance, wit and insight impressed me, as much as I felt he was way too idealistic, unrealistic and a little vacuous. There were so many lengthy rather turgid passages when he was rather too critical of unnamed politicians - but I ended up not being sure what exactly Disraeli was proposing as an alternative. But for all its faults, it was amazing to read this book. While I did not come away with a clear sense of a viable political creed, I did feel I gained an insight into a society where only the wealthy can be politicians, and that Eton and Oxbridge were widely accepted as the training grounds for a future in politics. Being a politician was not so much a profession (like law or diplomacy, which Coningsby contemplated) as a Calling. It was fascinating that, yes, while wealth makes politicians, in Disraeli's world wealthy, cultivated Jews can be acceptable, as can those who have made their money through manufacturing. How much did Disreali believe his own idealistic novel where outsiders can be the most admired, the poor love the rich for their generosity, and the rich are driven by a social conscience and a vision for all of society? Or was he consciously creating a fiction simply to write his own way into political success? Disreali's outsider status as a Jew haunts this novel, making him love the institutions of England where he sought acceptance. It feels a very Christian novel, with the social order confirmed; virtue rewarded by Providence sorting out a happy ending for our hero; and all English people united and happy.

[Tricia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Yep, Disraeli is no Dickens or Trollope. There are lots of passages of politics, as was expected. But even his passages of narrative and description bored me. I didn't feel as emotionally connected to the characters as I do with other authors.

Still, I'm glad I listened. It was a bit of an education, and there's enough story there to keep me interested. (Listened to the LibriVox edition.)

[Keith Murphy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Quite awful I'm afraid. Dimensionless characters inhabiting the world of Eton and Oxbridge and acting out their long existence in the belief that what they do is significant. Boring seems to be too generous a descriptor. I sincerely hope Mr. Disraeli was a better prime minister than he was a writer.

[Peter Thomson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loses nothing of its power as literature, in spite of the dated style and language used.

[Elaine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Absolutely nothing like I thought it was going to be
Long passages about the time in which it was set with little dialogue between people
Well written considering the age he was when he wrote it
Although I’ve only given it 3 stars I’ll try the second novel in this trio of books

[Perry · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful old book from the early 19th Century.

[Russell James · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first political novel in English? Of its time inevitably, but Disraeli's wit and style raise this thoughtful novel far above mid-century society fiction or melodrama

[Kenneth Fergus · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting insight into the politicsl turmoil of the 1830s & 1840s from Disraeli's perspective. However, far too wordy and should have been half the length. Harry Coningsby's story holds the interest throughout though.

[James Connolly · Rating 2 out of 5]

Has its moments but one of the great political works of fiction? I think not.

[Adam Chandler · Rating 3 out of 5]

One of Disraeli's great political novels. I greatly appreciate the prose of the book, but the narrative and characters were somewhat lacklustre in my opinion and it was not memorable to me.

[A. H. · Rating 3 out of 5]

A poor novel, but worth reading because the prose captures the flair of D's personality.

[Monica Perez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Several times I saw reference to this book by the UK PM Disraeli so I felt I had to read it. I'm not sure why it was considered so revealing...it was either because of the lengthy description of a character who is clearly a Rothschild who has a great and mysterious influence in the world through shadow mechanisms and who would never mix his pure "Mosaic Arab" (Jewish) race with mere Caucasians (though he thinks highly of Mohammedan Arabs - an interesting difference from the early 1800s to today)...or it was because Disraeli revealed how mediocre and petty the elites were or how without principles the ruling class had become - Disraeli was to shake up the political scene and virtually found the modern conservative party in the UK - perhaps this was the prelude to a counter-revolution...I don't know. I'm not sure if it matters, but Disraeli remains the only Jewish-born PM of England, though he (along with his family) converted to Anglicanism when he was 12. All that aside, the book is a sweet Victorian novel more or less - a nice read.

[Paul Taylor · Rating 1 out of 5]

Why did Disraeli the novelist think that his readers would be so interested in mid 19th century English politics? If the Reform Bill is your thing, then write a history book about it. Don't dress it up as a truly tedious novel. One star is too generous for this book but I can't give it the zero stars rating which it really merits.

[Dina · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a joy to read. An absolute classics. I devoured the book in three days, Disraeli is one of my favorites now as a writer.

[Eric Boles · Rating 1 out of 5]

***

[Robert Barrett · Rating 4 out of 5]

Enjoyable . Whigs & Tories , social settings in metropolis (London) & country (various seats ).
Growing friendships, political & marriage intrigues .

My father had pencilled in a few short annotations during 1950s .

Some stupid or facetious senior female colleague at my first office job
suggested that it was a "sex book" f teenagers that I was reading between closing the office f the evening & locking up by the Head Office house-keeping staff .
I was trying to read one of Disraeli's novels , a contribution & mark on C19th literature ,
greater than her mid C20th pulp fiction would provide .