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The Three Clerks
Set in the 1850s, The Three Clerks exposes and probes the relationships between three clerks and the three sisters who became their wives. At the same time it satirizes the Civil Service examinations and financial corruption in dealings on the stock market.
646 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1857
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724 people want to read
About the author
Anthony Trollope
2,287 books1,757 followersAnthony Trollope became one of the most successful, prolific and respected English novelists of the Victorian era. Some of Trollope's best-loved works, known as the Chronicles of Barsetshire, revolve around the imaginary county of Barsetshire; he also wrote penetrating novels on political, social, and gender issues and conflicts of his day.
Trollope has always been a popular novelist. Noted fans have included Sir Alec Guinness (who never travelled without a Trollope novel), former British Prime Ministers Harold Macmillan and Sir John Major, economist John Kenneth Galbraith, American novelists Sue Grafton and Dominick Dunne and soap opera writer Harding Lemay. Trollope's literary reputation dipped somewhat during the last years of his life, but he regained the esteem of critics by the mid-twentieth century.
See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_...
Trollope has always been a popular novelist. Noted fans have included Sir Alec Guinness (who never travelled without a Trollope novel), former British Prime Ministers Harold Macmillan and Sir John Major, economist John Kenneth Galbraith, American novelists Sue Grafton and Dominick Dunne and soap opera writer Harding Lemay. Trollope's literary reputation dipped somewhat during the last years of his life, but he regained the esteem of critics by the mid-twentieth century.
See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 90 reviews
June 12, 2020
The Three Clerks offers a lively picture of the Civil Service undergoing the Victorian reforms, and also in Charley Tudor a self-portrait of Trollope himself as a young man.
July 2, 2020
According to Paul Delany’s Introduction to this novel “The Three Clerks (1858) is a portrait of Trollope's life when he was in his twenties, not yet successful in his career as a civil servant, published as an author, or married. The novel shows life as it appears to Charley Tudor, a clerk in the Internal Navigation Office, and an obvious surrogate for Trollope himself.”
However, Charley is one of three clerks whose lives we follow in this story. The other two are Henry Norman and Alaric Tudor who both work in Weights and Measures. Henry is handsome, intelligent and conscientious; Alaric is capable, ambitious, (“It was the nature of Tudor's disposition that he never for a moment rested satisfied with the round of the ladder on which he had contrived to place himself. He had no sooner gained a step than he looked upwards to see how the next step was to be achieved.”) and he has good intentions but is led astray by a friend who certainly does not have good intentions. Charley, a cheerful lad, is impressionable and indulges in various vices, but at heart he’s not a bad lad, and he learns from his mistakes. Like Trollope, Charley also becomes a writer.
It so happened that Harry Norman’s father and a certain Mr Woodward (now deceased) had been first cousins, but fortunately Mrs Woodward has three lovely unmarried daughters who befriend our three clerks. Of course there are stumbling blocks along the paths to love, but the clerks intrepidly continue on their way in search of love and marital bliss.
This is perhaps not Trollope’s best novel, but it has Trollope’s subtle humour. Much fun is made of the Civil Service, and like his contemporary Charles Dickens, he uses names which reveal something about the characters:
Sir Gregory Hardlines, the chief-clerk
Mr Oldschole, secretary of Internal Navigation
Mr A Minusex, mathematician
Mr Alphabet Precis who specialises in “official phraseology”
Mr Embryo, the new junior
Mr Fidus Neverbend (with daughters Lactimel and Ugolina!) of Woods and Forests
Admiral Starbod, Captain Focassel, old Hardaport and Sir Jib Boom
Victoire Jaquêtanápes - apparently Trollope’s Frenchified version of ‘Jackanapes’
M’Ruen - pawnbroker and money lender
And many more...
The edition that I read includes in Italics text originally deleted by Trollope. Readers may choose to read it in its entirety or not.
However, Charley is one of three clerks whose lives we follow in this story. The other two are Henry Norman and Alaric Tudor who both work in Weights and Measures. Henry is handsome, intelligent and conscientious; Alaric is capable, ambitious, (“It was the nature of Tudor's disposition that he never for a moment rested satisfied with the round of the ladder on which he had contrived to place himself. He had no sooner gained a step than he looked upwards to see how the next step was to be achieved.”) and he has good intentions but is led astray by a friend who certainly does not have good intentions. Charley, a cheerful lad, is impressionable and indulges in various vices, but at heart he’s not a bad lad, and he learns from his mistakes. Like Trollope, Charley also becomes a writer.
It so happened that Harry Norman’s father and a certain Mr Woodward (now deceased) had been first cousins, but fortunately Mrs Woodward has three lovely unmarried daughters who befriend our three clerks. Of course there are stumbling blocks along the paths to love, but the clerks intrepidly continue on their way in search of love and marital bliss.
This is perhaps not Trollope’s best novel, but it has Trollope’s subtle humour. Much fun is made of the Civil Service, and like his contemporary Charles Dickens, he uses names which reveal something about the characters:
Sir Gregory Hardlines, the chief-clerk
Mr Oldschole, secretary of Internal Navigation
Mr A Minusex, mathematician
Mr Alphabet Precis who specialises in “official phraseology”
Mr Embryo, the new junior
Mr Fidus Neverbend (with daughters Lactimel and Ugolina!) of Woods and Forests
Admiral Starbod, Captain Focassel, old Hardaport and Sir Jib Boom
Victoire Jaquêtanápes - apparently Trollope’s Frenchified version of ‘Jackanapes’
M’Ruen - pawnbroker and money lender
And many more...
The edition that I read includes in Italics text originally deleted by Trollope. Readers may choose to read it in its entirety or not.
November 2, 2022
A fantastic read - one of my favourites by Anthony Trollope.
April 20, 2023
Gosh! I think I’m going 4.5 stars with this! This is an excellent standalone Trollope, and I think it would be a great place to start. It’s got so much great stuff: Trollope’s typical varied plot lines, a lovable central family, humor, Trollope’s delightful and warm narrative voice, a believable villain, a poignant ending that manages to be both happy and a bit melancholy (but realistic), and a character with elements of Trollope’s own younger self. There are some details about England’s Civil Service which are less interesting to a modern reader perhaps, but Trollope writes so humorously about it that I was able to stay with him and, I think, pick up on most of his snark.
I really enjoyed the plot structure with the three clerks and the three Woodward girls and how their stories intertwine. Alaric’s storyline is compelling and felt very realistic. I could see his story happening today quite easily. Gertrude rose in my estimation, and I appreciated Trollope’s nuanced portrayal of her as well. Mrs Woodward is a super character. I would perhaps even call her the heroine. Katie is so endearing. She still feels very much to me like the youthful Lydia Keith in Angela Thirkell’s novels.
Finally Charley, the youthful Trollope on the page. I found him an absolute delight even when he was being a complete dunderhead. He’s just so…guileless. He reminds me so much of Johnny Eames. I think Trollope captures the imbecility of youth so perfectly in Charley and has him mature very believably over the course of the novel. But he’s always good for a laugh. The final scene of the novel is just hilarious.
I really enjoyed the plot structure with the three clerks and the three Woodward girls and how their stories intertwine. Alaric’s storyline is compelling and felt very realistic. I could see his story happening today quite easily. Gertrude rose in my estimation, and I appreciated Trollope’s nuanced portrayal of her as well. Mrs Woodward is a super character. I would perhaps even call her the heroine. Katie is so endearing. She still feels very much to me like the youthful Lydia Keith in Angela Thirkell’s novels.
Finally Charley, the youthful Trollope on the page. I found him an absolute delight even when he was being a complete dunderhead. He’s just so…guileless. He reminds me so much of Johnny Eames. I think Trollope captures the imbecility of youth so perfectly in Charley and has him mature very believably over the course of the novel. But he’s always good for a laugh. The final scene of the novel is just hilarious.
June 7, 2017
Trollope begins in his usual way by dedicating one of several initial chapters to establishing his characters and their situation. My first reaction while reading these first half dozen chapters is that this relatively early novel was not going to be as good as his later ones, but this from the introduction reflects my thoughts exactly.
Trollope himself liked the work well: —That love-scene, which comes late in the novel, is one of the best I have read by Trollope. Though he writes with feeling, rarely does he bring any volume of tears and in that he certainly did. But Trollope also dripped with sarcasm and wrote with a very broad brush.
" The plot is not as good as that of The Macdermots; nor are any characters in the book equal to those of Mrs. Proudie and the Warden; but the work has a more continued interest, and contains the first well-described love-scene that I ever wrote."
He was a Vice-President of the Caledonian, English, Irish, and General European and American Fire and Life Assurance Society; such, at least, had been the name of the joint-stock company in question when he joined it; but he had obtained much credit by adding the word "Oriental," and inserting it after the allusion to Europe; he had tried hard to include the fourth quarter of the globe; but, as he explained to some of his friends, it would have made the name too cumbrous for the advertisements.It has been said that this is Trollope's most auto-biographical novel. Certainly it reflects his life situationally in that he worked for the Civil Service while becoming a writer. C.P. Snow has suggested that John Eames, in The Small House at Allington is more like Trollope himself than Charley Tudor in this. Perhaps there is something of him in both. This builds to the end, and I give it a high four stars.
July 24, 2019
The story focuses on three government clerks who enjoy the company of the Woodward sisters. Alaric steals Gertrude from Harry. Harry ends up marrying Linda. Katie likes Charley, but her mother doesn't. The best thing I can say about I've finished it and can say I've read it. It's just not my kind of story. The story does pick up a bit near the end , but even that doesn't quite redeem it.
September 29, 2025
For my second read of this book, I did appreciate parts of it more than my first read, but it is still my least favourite Trollope novel. The characters seem sterotypical, the flow chunky, and the politics preachy.
May 23, 2023
This was a gift from a dear friend, so I read this ahead of some other books I was already in the middle of reading.
One interesting thing about Trollope is his characters who positively refuse to change their minds. He either encountered many such people in his life, or just a few critical and memorable ones, because a frequent theme in his fiction is the stubborn soul who is so set in his/her mind that they are right they will practically/actually kill themselves over an issue/question which only they can see.
In this novel, it is the most upstanding, successful and otherwise unimpeachable of the three clerks, Henry Norman, who is the one who refuses to be swayed. He feels himself betrayed and thus righteously hurt by his friend, Alaric Tudor and therefore justified in not forgiving him.
Thank you, Liz, for an excellent read!
One interesting thing about Trollope is his characters who positively refuse to change their minds. He either encountered many such people in his life, or just a few critical and memorable ones, because a frequent theme in his fiction is the stubborn soul who is so set in his/her mind that they are right they will practically/actually kill themselves over an issue/question which only they can see.
In this novel, it is the most upstanding, successful and otherwise unimpeachable of the three clerks, Henry Norman, who is the one who refuses to be swayed. He feels himself betrayed and thus righteously hurt by his friend, Alaric Tudor and therefore justified in not forgiving him.
Thank you, Liz, for an excellent read!
July 17, 2020
The worst Trollope I have read so far, perhaps sharing that place with Can You Forgive Her?
It contains a fair bit of his favourite hobby-horses: undying love, suspiciousness of talent, and villainy of stock trading are all talked up at length. But it has too little of good things Trollope.
Perhaps the only juicy tidbit here is that one character is himself an author and writes some godawful didactic pulp.
It contains a fair bit of his favourite hobby-horses: undying love, suspiciousness of talent, and villainy of stock trading are all talked up at length. But it has too little of good things Trollope.
Perhaps the only juicy tidbit here is that one character is himself an author and writes some godawful didactic pulp.
June 5, 2013
There's no-one like Trollope. If you don't like his characteristic asides to the reader, then give this one a miss - it's full of them.
He has such knowledge and understanding of human nature! "An accident, if it does no material harm, is always an inspiriting thing, unless one feels that it has been attributable to one's own fault" - he's right, isn't he? And fancy having the nerve to use a Dickens character as a throwaway - "her dresses were made at the distinguished establishment of Madame Mantalini" - this tells you all you need to know! Perhaps he goes on a bit too much about the iniquities of Robert Peel, the Corn Laws don't mean much to us nowadays - but it just shows that nothing changes in politics, indeed the whole novel is relevant to the financial and business world of today. And if you don't end up a little bit in love with Charley and Katie, then you are made of sterner stuff than I am.
He has such knowledge and understanding of human nature! "An accident, if it does no material harm, is always an inspiriting thing, unless one feels that it has been attributable to one's own fault" - he's right, isn't he? And fancy having the nerve to use a Dickens character as a throwaway - "her dresses were made at the distinguished establishment of Madame Mantalini" - this tells you all you need to know! Perhaps he goes on a bit too much about the iniquities of Robert Peel, the Corn Laws don't mean much to us nowadays - but it just shows that nothing changes in politics, indeed the whole novel is relevant to the financial and business world of today. And if you don't end up a little bit in love with Charley and Katie, then you are made of sterner stuff than I am.
March 22, 2020
Ok so this was not Trollope’s best novel . It was a bit of a slog starting out . There wasn’t enough of his usual humor that is characteristic of the author. I love how he addresses the reader. Still, as much as I am not usually turned off my larger novels , this seemed a little too long for me. The story just did not grab me as much as his others . Also the ending tended to be a little rushed .
May 4, 2016
Only for the initiated
A lesser work by the classic Victorian novelist, it must be said, although it does show that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Set in the mid-1850s, the story revolves about three young in the British civil service. Two are cousins and the other a friend. Their names are not important, or their origins. They endure professional trials, romantic tribulations, a falling out and assorted misadventures. While the prose is breezy and humourous for the most part, the actual plots are rather predictable. Trollope goes as far as to admit his classic romantic novel set up and then attempts to subvert the genre, but he never brings himself to go that far. Rather, I felt he liked his characters far too much to put them in real danger. This, of course, deflates most of the tension that arisen natually. I would not go so far as to say that this is a fun read. Aside from the easily anticipated circumstances, the novel contains long chunks of pedantic text on contemporary politics and cultural mores. Even as a historical curiosity, they are not interesting.
What is genuinely interesting, is how easily the reader can identify with the daily life of the young men. They drink, they carouse, they compete with each other, they tease and get into scrapes typical of callow youth then as now. Also, the dullness, pettiness and hierarchy of a typical workplace is on full display. To his credit, Trollope lambastes the civil service and the idea of Enlgish superiority, for the most part, which is entertaining.
The only character of note in the entire work is the gentleman-charlatan Undecimus Scott, who also happens to be Scottish. He is wholly unscrupulous, but in a charismatic, if bullying, rather than moutstache-twirling way, if that makes any sense. He admits his villainy by twisting conventional morality to make it appear false. This is the only "genius" aspect of the novel, in my view, and was what kept me turning the pages. Undy Scott might be a bit of an exaggeration of the type, but he comes across as frighteningly convincing.
The romance is right out of Jane Austen, though must less clever or complicated. There is no humour or societal hypocrisy to be mined her, as the characters are either conventional or ridiculous, while the courtship is as expected. That said, the female leads are given almost as much depth as the men, so the novel has at least verisimilitude going for it.
Only read it if you are a devoted Trollope fan.
A lesser work by the classic Victorian novelist, it must be said, although it does show that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Set in the mid-1850s, the story revolves about three young in the British civil service. Two are cousins and the other a friend. Their names are not important, or their origins. They endure professional trials, romantic tribulations, a falling out and assorted misadventures. While the prose is breezy and humourous for the most part, the actual plots are rather predictable. Trollope goes as far as to admit his classic romantic novel set up and then attempts to subvert the genre, but he never brings himself to go that far. Rather, I felt he liked his characters far too much to put them in real danger. This, of course, deflates most of the tension that arisen natually. I would not go so far as to say that this is a fun read. Aside from the easily anticipated circumstances, the novel contains long chunks of pedantic text on contemporary politics and cultural mores. Even as a historical curiosity, they are not interesting.
What is genuinely interesting, is how easily the reader can identify with the daily life of the young men. They drink, they carouse, they compete with each other, they tease and get into scrapes typical of callow youth then as now. Also, the dullness, pettiness and hierarchy of a typical workplace is on full display. To his credit, Trollope lambastes the civil service and the idea of Enlgish superiority, for the most part, which is entertaining.
The only character of note in the entire work is the gentleman-charlatan Undecimus Scott, who also happens to be Scottish. He is wholly unscrupulous, but in a charismatic, if bullying, rather than moutstache-twirling way, if that makes any sense. He admits his villainy by twisting conventional morality to make it appear false. This is the only "genius" aspect of the novel, in my view, and was what kept me turning the pages. Undy Scott might be a bit of an exaggeration of the type, but he comes across as frighteningly convincing.
The romance is right out of Jane Austen, though must less clever or complicated. There is no humour or societal hypocrisy to be mined her, as the characters are either conventional or ridiculous, while the courtship is as expected. That said, the female leads are given almost as much depth as the men, so the novel has at least verisimilitude going for it.
Only read it if you are a devoted Trollope fan.
March 22, 2020
In this novel, Trollope begins to indulge in a little bit of what young people nowadays call "meta" - that is, he discusses his own characteristics as a novelist. His device is to have his youngest protagonist be a writer of pulp fiction, whose fictional readers declare he has failed to write a proper "Nemesis" or villain. This, I am sure, Trollope had heard about his own novels - but I think Trollope's ability to sympathize even with his "baddies" is one of his most endearing characteristics, and one of his strengths.
Anyway, the meta is a relatively small portion of this tale; most is clearly designed along the lines of thesis (Henry Norman, the 'good' civil servant), antithesis (Alaric the 'bad' one, who takes part in stock fraud), and synthesis (Charley, who starts out bad and on the wrong path, but becomes good). The three Woodward daughters - Gertrude, Linda, and Katie, appear to be all lined up as neat as a fairy tale for matrimony to these three, but there is a shuffling in the order early in the book as Alaric decides he prefers Henry Norman's girlfriend, Gertrude, to his own, Linda. This sets up Henry's bitterness and nobility in the latter chapters when he rescues Alaric from the very worst consequences of his ill-doing, using Charley as an intermediary.
I read the chapter in Trollope's autobiography that talks about this novel, and I regret to say the one scene he picked out as being the best written - Katie's near-deathbed scene which puts lover Charles on to the moral path - was the one scene I found most stupid and sentimental, and not at all worthy of the author's pride. There seems little doubt he was trying to give his readers what they wanted (sentimental scenes being the equivalent of sexy scenes in modern romances), but that particular scenario seemed out of place to me - and besides, he couldn't bring himself to kill Katie off anyway! She recovered as inexplicably as she dropped to death's door.
Trollope can do better with his women. I thought the contrast between Gertrude (who was a tough bird to keep supporting her errant husband all the way to and through Australian exile) and Linda (much softer) was well sustained.
Much of this novel is well-observed satire on the Civil Service, and though it's all a bit exaggerated, I regret to say there was a lot I recognized.
Anyway, the meta is a relatively small portion of this tale; most is clearly designed along the lines of thesis (Henry Norman, the 'good' civil servant), antithesis (Alaric the 'bad' one, who takes part in stock fraud), and synthesis (Charley, who starts out bad and on the wrong path, but becomes good). The three Woodward daughters - Gertrude, Linda, and Katie, appear to be all lined up as neat as a fairy tale for matrimony to these three, but there is a shuffling in the order early in the book as Alaric decides he prefers Henry Norman's girlfriend, Gertrude, to his own, Linda. This sets up Henry's bitterness and nobility in the latter chapters when he rescues Alaric from the very worst consequences of his ill-doing, using Charley as an intermediary.
I read the chapter in Trollope's autobiography that talks about this novel, and I regret to say the one scene he picked out as being the best written - Katie's near-deathbed scene which puts lover Charles on to the moral path - was the one scene I found most stupid and sentimental, and not at all worthy of the author's pride. There seems little doubt he was trying to give his readers what they wanted (sentimental scenes being the equivalent of sexy scenes in modern romances), but that particular scenario seemed out of place to me - and besides, he couldn't bring himself to kill Katie off anyway! She recovered as inexplicably as she dropped to death's door.
Trollope can do better with his women. I thought the contrast between Gertrude (who was a tough bird to keep supporting her errant husband all the way to and through Australian exile) and Linda (much softer) was well sustained.
Much of this novel is well-observed satire on the Civil Service, and though it's all a bit exaggerated, I regret to say there was a lot I recognized.
September 20, 2023
"The Three Clerks" serves as a miserable title for a wonderful novel - that is if you are already a fan of Anthony Trollope's writing style. We follow the early careers and romantic life of three young civil servants in Westminster. Trollope makes clear his admiration for the basic purpose and ethos of public service, but gives the reader hilarious examples of its ridiculous aspects, such as entrance examinations (tests) and interviews. His clerks are sometimes sorrily tempted by sloth and corruption at high cost to themselves and their families. So there is no lack of drama and turns of fortune among his main characters and some evildoers.
Included among the 48 chapters are a rambling essay on the civil service and a parody of the romantic novels popular at the time.
Included among the 48 chapters are a rambling essay on the civil service and a parody of the romantic novels popular at the time.
August 6, 2018
It's odd that, after having written such wonderful novels as The Kelleys and the O'Kelleys and the first three Barsetshire novels, Trollope should have produced this clunker. The structure alone gives most of it away: three clerks, three sisters. Guess what's going to happen? Trollope himself liked the book because it gave him a chance to write about his own experience in the civil service, but to others it's pretty dull stuff. And then the eponymous clerks are all so miserable for most of the book, suffering from lovesickness, overweening ambition, and personal and professional funk. There's less humor than in most of Trollope's novels, and altogether it was a tough slog. It's telling that, while I know I read this book years ago, I could not remember a thing about it.
June 25, 2023
The first three-quarters or so was sheer torture. If there's one thing I've learned about Trollope, it's that he's the master of writing young fools straight out of the book of Proverbs' central casting office. Trouble is, when I get to one of those episodes where our precious young idiot is about to do something particularly stooooopid (e.g., sign a note for a ne'er-do-well companion), I find it so painful that I completely stall out and can't continue reading! At one point I set this aside for weeks because I encountered such a scene and found it unbearable. I eventually pressed on, but only to encounter more of the same. Also, Charley's reading of "Crinoline and Macassar" is the most boring, annoying chunk of filler I've ever encountered in a book. Finally, in the last dozen or so chapters, the worst of the misery was over, and I was able to zip through in comfort. But I still didn't get compensatory satisfaction. When everything finally got resolved, and the last hero finally got his girl, it was glazed over with an "Oh, yeah...this happened." Not even a single affecting scene of joy as the obstacles were removed and they came together. What a cheat!
Trollope himself evidently thought very well of this novel, perhaps because Charley is so autobiographical (including the stooooopidity), and who doesn't have a high regard for anything written about himself? 😉
I discovered after I finished this that there was a second LibriVox version with a single reader, which I kost likely would have chosen if Scribd had given me the option. Another cheat! But for a multi-reader effort, it wasn't too terrible. A couple of the narrators were quite good, and only the American who pronounced AlARic with the emPHAsis on the second sylLABle drove me batty.
Trollope himself evidently thought very well of this novel, perhaps because Charley is so autobiographical (including the stooooopidity), and who doesn't have a high regard for anything written about himself? 😉
I discovered after I finished this that there was a second LibriVox version with a single reader, which I kost likely would have chosen if Scribd had given me the option. Another cheat! But for a multi-reader effort, it wasn't too terrible. A couple of the narrators were quite good, and only the American who pronounced AlARic with the emPHAsis on the second sylLABle drove me batty.
September 20, 2025
I enjoyed this book more than some other people in the book club. I found Norman dull and certainly not suited to Gertrude. I admired her gutsy response to Alaric’s fate which he thoroughly deserved. Trollope was very vocal in the book condemning him and his moral slide. Charlie was the most fun character although I do worry that just changing departments is probably not enough to change a whole character’s inclinations.
August 12, 2025
I met Anthony Trollope’s The Three Clerks the way one meets an old friend’s cousin at a wedding — politely, with mild curiosity, and then, before you know it, you’ve been cornered in a conversation that’s oddly absorbing.
It wasn’t even my first Trollope; by the time I picked this one up, I’d already been waltzing through the Barchester novels, happily tangled in ecclesiastical politics and small-town scandals. But The Three Clerks was different. No bishops here.
No cathedral cloisters. Instead, we’re in the offices of the Civil Service — the “Weights and Measures” department, no less — which sounds like the driest possible fictional setting until you realise Trollope treats bureaucracy the way a French chef treats butter: with total faith that it can enrich anything.
Published in 1858, it’s widely acknowledged as one of Trollope’s most autobiographical works. He knew this world from the inside — the petty rivalries, the long hours of desk-bound drudgery, the way careers could be made or broken by a well-placed connection or a botched assignment.
And here, he distills that experience into the intertwined fates of three young men: Henry Norman, Alaric Tudor, and Charley Tudor (no relation, though the shared surname is a running joke). They all start as clerks, but they’re very different animals. Norman is steady, principled, almost painfully conscientious. Alaric is ambitious, restless, drawn toward the quick path upward — and the shortcuts that might take him there. Charley, on the other hand, is the charming wastrel, allergic to responsibility, a man more likely to be found in a tavern than at his desk.
I read the novel at a time when I, too, was in an office job that promised “prospects” but seemed mostly to offer fluorescent lighting and coffee that tasted like betrayal. Trollope’s world of ledgers and minute books felt eerily familiar, even though it was separated from me by more than a century.
There’s something universal in the slow, grinding rhythms of bureaucratic life — the way you can feel your ideals quietly erode if you’re not careful. Trollope, being Trollope, isn’t content to leave it at a social sketch. He gives us moral arcs. Norman’s uprightness is tested. Alaric’s climb to the top edges into the territory of financial speculation and fraud. Charley drifts dangerously close to ruin — socially, professionally, and romantically.
The women in The Three Clerks aren’t mere decorative figures, though they do, as in many Victorian novels, exist partly as moral counterweights to the men. There’s Gertrude, Clementina, and Linda — sisters whose marriages and prospects become entangled with the clerks’ ambitions and downfalls. Trollope treats them with surprising nuance, even if the narrative can’t quite shake the era’s gendered expectations.
The courtship plots weave through the novel like silk threads in a wool coat — softer, shinier, but inseparable from the rougher fabric of professional life.
The real genius of the book is how Trollope captures the way corruption doesn’t descend like a lightning bolt; it seeps in. Alaric’s moral slippage is slow, almost reasonable at first, each compromise justifiable until suddenly it’s not.
Norman’s steadfastness begins to look less like virtue and more like a kind of stubborn rigidity. Charley’s fecklessness turns from charming to pathetic. There’s no caricature here — just the slow transformation of people under pressure, ambition, and desire.
What makes The Three Clerks stick in my mind, even years after reading it, is its honesty about how lives are shaped in the spaces between “big” events. There are no wars, no revolutions — just careers, marriages, debts, promotions, resignations.
Yet Trollope makes it gripping. You can see the bones of the modern workplace drama here, only with top hats and calling cards. And if you’ve ever navigated office politics, you’ll recognise the sly digs, the strategic friendships, the boss who plays favourites, and the creeping fear that you might become exactly the sort of person you swore you wouldn’t.
By the time I closed the book, I felt as though I’d been in the Weights and Measures office myself, watching these three lives wind toward their inevitable reckonings.
Trollope may have written bigger, more famous novels, but The Three Clerks has the intimacy of a confession and the precision of someone who’s balanced a ledger and knows exactly how the numbers can be made to lie.
It’s not just a story about three men in the Civil Service; it’s about how the slow machinery of everyday life grinds down, reshapes, and sometimes redeems the people caught in it.
It wasn’t even my first Trollope; by the time I picked this one up, I’d already been waltzing through the Barchester novels, happily tangled in ecclesiastical politics and small-town scandals. But The Three Clerks was different. No bishops here.
No cathedral cloisters. Instead, we’re in the offices of the Civil Service — the “Weights and Measures” department, no less — which sounds like the driest possible fictional setting until you realise Trollope treats bureaucracy the way a French chef treats butter: with total faith that it can enrich anything.
Published in 1858, it’s widely acknowledged as one of Trollope’s most autobiographical works. He knew this world from the inside — the petty rivalries, the long hours of desk-bound drudgery, the way careers could be made or broken by a well-placed connection or a botched assignment.
And here, he distills that experience into the intertwined fates of three young men: Henry Norman, Alaric Tudor, and Charley Tudor (no relation, though the shared surname is a running joke). They all start as clerks, but they’re very different animals. Norman is steady, principled, almost painfully conscientious. Alaric is ambitious, restless, drawn toward the quick path upward — and the shortcuts that might take him there. Charley, on the other hand, is the charming wastrel, allergic to responsibility, a man more likely to be found in a tavern than at his desk.
I read the novel at a time when I, too, was in an office job that promised “prospects” but seemed mostly to offer fluorescent lighting and coffee that tasted like betrayal. Trollope’s world of ledgers and minute books felt eerily familiar, even though it was separated from me by more than a century.
There’s something universal in the slow, grinding rhythms of bureaucratic life — the way you can feel your ideals quietly erode if you’re not careful. Trollope, being Trollope, isn’t content to leave it at a social sketch. He gives us moral arcs. Norman’s uprightness is tested. Alaric’s climb to the top edges into the territory of financial speculation and fraud. Charley drifts dangerously close to ruin — socially, professionally, and romantically.
The women in The Three Clerks aren’t mere decorative figures, though they do, as in many Victorian novels, exist partly as moral counterweights to the men. There’s Gertrude, Clementina, and Linda — sisters whose marriages and prospects become entangled with the clerks’ ambitions and downfalls. Trollope treats them with surprising nuance, even if the narrative can’t quite shake the era’s gendered expectations.
The courtship plots weave through the novel like silk threads in a wool coat — softer, shinier, but inseparable from the rougher fabric of professional life.
The real genius of the book is how Trollope captures the way corruption doesn’t descend like a lightning bolt; it seeps in. Alaric’s moral slippage is slow, almost reasonable at first, each compromise justifiable until suddenly it’s not.
Norman’s steadfastness begins to look less like virtue and more like a kind of stubborn rigidity. Charley’s fecklessness turns from charming to pathetic. There’s no caricature here — just the slow transformation of people under pressure, ambition, and desire.
What makes The Three Clerks stick in my mind, even years after reading it, is its honesty about how lives are shaped in the spaces between “big” events. There are no wars, no revolutions — just careers, marriages, debts, promotions, resignations.
Yet Trollope makes it gripping. You can see the bones of the modern workplace drama here, only with top hats and calling cards. And if you’ve ever navigated office politics, you’ll recognise the sly digs, the strategic friendships, the boss who plays favourites, and the creeping fear that you might become exactly the sort of person you swore you wouldn’t.
By the time I closed the book, I felt as though I’d been in the Weights and Measures office myself, watching these three lives wind toward their inevitable reckonings.
Trollope may have written bigger, more famous novels, but The Three Clerks has the intimacy of a confession and the precision of someone who’s balanced a ledger and knows exactly how the numbers can be made to lie.
It’s not just a story about three men in the Civil Service; it’s about how the slow machinery of everyday life grinds down, reshapes, and sometimes redeems the people caught in it.
March 21, 2007
Trollope draws on his own youth for the character of Charley Tudor, one of the three clerks of the title. Like Trollope, Charley begins his civil service in desultory fashion, falls into the hands of money lenders, and finds himself in danger of begin coerced into what would have been a ruinous marriage. But all comes right in the end for Charley, as it did for Trollope. Of course Charley's story is only one-third of the plot.
Trollope also uses this novel as a platform from which to weigh in on the then recent adoption of competitive examinations for civil service employment. Trollope hated them. Why? Because he thought that the true test for whether one was fit for the civil service was whether one was a gentleman. (One of the three clerks obtains employment by virtue of the competitive examination; needless to say, he turns out to be no gentleman.)
I hope mentioning Trollope's anti-examination polemics won't discourage anyone from reading this novel. Trollope's view on things like this (including, for example, his dislike of the secret ballot, which comes up in other novels) is always entertaining.
Trollope also uses this novel as a platform from which to weigh in on the then recent adoption of competitive examinations for civil service employment. Trollope hated them. Why? Because he thought that the true test for whether one was fit for the civil service was whether one was a gentleman. (One of the three clerks obtains employment by virtue of the competitive examination; needless to say, he turns out to be no gentleman.)
I hope mentioning Trollope's anti-examination polemics won't discourage anyone from reading this novel. Trollope's view on things like this (including, for example, his dislike of the secret ballot, which comes up in other novels) is always entertaining.
September 20, 2025
This is not one of Trollope's stronger novels. The Three Clerks refers to three friends who come to work in the Civil Service in Victorian London, and then are welcomed into the family circle of Mrs Woodward, a widow with 3 daughters living just out of town. There are issues of friendship and loyalty, a close and often satirical look at the Civil Service of the time, warnings of the dangers of speculating in the market, a glimpse into the legal and political system, and ultimately romance both disappointed and fulfilled. Trollope spends too much time addressing the reader directly when he should let the characters and situations speak for themselves, and then often skips over events which I would have enjoyed seeing portrayed. While a lesser Trollope remains an enjoyable read, I would place this well down my list of recommended novels of his.
December 6, 2024
(1857) 4.5 stars. I went off the beaten track with this lesser-known Trollope because I had read that Robert Browning liked it particularly, and that Trollope himself rated it highly among his early works (though his opinion may have been influenced by Browning’s). Like everything I’ve read from Trollope the book practically reads itself, and has a compassionate narrator masterful at taking both the anthropological and an intimate view. As I did with Doctor Thorne and The Warden I withheld half a star to distinguish it from Barchester Towers, still the most inspired work of his I’ve read.
Yet there’s one storyline here that is unlike anything I’ve encountered in the others, or indeed anywhere outside of The Sopranos—that is, the swindle of Alaric by his satanic friend Undy Scott. It is so skillfully plotted (by Scott and by Trollope) that even though I knew Alaric was getting entangled I had no idea the diabolical extent to which he was being targeted. And the chapter where Undy finally (though as chummily as ever) reveals his sociopathic nature, turning the screws just as Alaric pleads for assistance, is so well done that for cruelty and realism it puts all Victorian literary villains to shame.
The dread, as Alaric’s crime catches up with him, and he anxiously watches his stocks, and his former friends squeeze him, is very convincingly described too. I kept feeling grateful I was not in one of those guilty predicaments myself.
The scenes with Charley, involving the tamer duplicities of a scheming matchmaker, are also very artfully relayed. It’s fascinating to see the social dynamics of the educated though naive Charley getting so thoroughly outmaneuvered by this rude tavern-keeper, as she tries to pressure him into marrying a poor barmaid, first arousing his jealousy, then managing to get his consent without him saying anything. She even engineers it so the tavern is bolted shut during the interrogation, adding to his feeling of being trapped.
There’s a courtroom scene too at the end that Trollope really delivers on. It’s enormously satisfying to watch Alaric’s famous defense attorney make our usually unruffled villain squirm.
Other than that the work is yet another Trollope tale of interlopers, status-seekers, of peace upset by a newcomer (here in the shape of a comical uncle), of conflicts of the heart and the purse. One of the larger story arcs concerns a girl who falls for a hotshot over the proverbial nice guy, even though those same attractive qualities in the former are what make him a bad investment as a mate. The two men start as friends and have, as it were, an honest disagreement about dishonesty. I found I liked them better for verbalizing their positions.
The conflicting romantic lives of the sisters reminded me of Jane Austen, except Trollope includes the men’s perspective as well, and Austen would never put in details like this:
“The London night world was all alive as he made his way. From the Opera Colonnade shrill voices shrieked out at him as he passed, and drunken men coming down from the night supper-houses in the Haymarket saluted him with affectionate cordiality. The hoarse waterman from the cabstand whose voice had perished in the night air, croaked out at him the offer of a vehicle; and one of the night beggar-women who cling like burrs to those who roam the street at these unhallowed hours still stuck to him, as she had done ever since he had entered the Strand. 'Get away with you,' said Charley, turning at the wretched creature in his fierce anger; 'get away, or I'll give you in charge.' 'That you may never know what it is to be in misery yourself!' said the miserable Irishwoman. 'If you follow me a step farther I'll have you locked up,' said Charley.”
——
Other quotes:
“Yes, Bill… Hard as the case may be, you must be hung; hung out of the way of further mischief; my spoons, my wife's throat, my children's brains, demand that. You, Bill, and polecats, and such-like, must be squelched when we can come across you…” [Trollope is comparing his villain with Dickens’ Bill Sykes and Scott’s Sir Richard Varney (from Kenilworth)].
“‘Who is M'Ruen?' asked Alaric. “A low blackguard of a discounting Jew Christian.’”
“At least that’s what the editor says.” The whole passage of Charley’s editor’s advice is quite funny, and useful, too, for the commercial writer. For example: “The editor says that we must always have a slap at some of the iniquities of the times. He gave me three or four to choose from; there was the adulteration of food, and the want of education for the poor, and street music, and the miscellaneous sale of poisons.”
[Trollope reveals so many gimmicks in this part, like the knight who gets killed because of an old family feud—just after returning from the continent, where he learned to reject such things! Trollope gives this bit of cheap irony a clever corollary: we then go back to the real story where Charley, determined to be good, decides not to go to the pub, but changes his mind because he owes money to the owner. So he returns, newly resolved to amend his ways, and almost meets his demise because of it like the fictional knight did].
Marginalia:
*I liked how Undy Scott ended his days touting his fights for the rights of married women. How fitting that the sociopath should pass himself off as a male feminist.
*It’s amazing to think what recourse Brits used to have when their options dried up. “Oh I’m disgraced/unemployed. Guess I’ll start over in Melbourne or Hong Kong.”
Yet there’s one storyline here that is unlike anything I’ve encountered in the others, or indeed anywhere outside of The Sopranos—that is, the swindle of Alaric by his satanic friend Undy Scott. It is so skillfully plotted (by Scott and by Trollope) that even though I knew Alaric was getting entangled I had no idea the diabolical extent to which he was being targeted. And the chapter where Undy finally (though as chummily as ever) reveals his sociopathic nature, turning the screws just as Alaric pleads for assistance, is so well done that for cruelty and realism it puts all Victorian literary villains to shame.
The dread, as Alaric’s crime catches up with him, and he anxiously watches his stocks, and his former friends squeeze him, is very convincingly described too. I kept feeling grateful I was not in one of those guilty predicaments myself.
The scenes with Charley, involving the tamer duplicities of a scheming matchmaker, are also very artfully relayed. It’s fascinating to see the social dynamics of the educated though naive Charley getting so thoroughly outmaneuvered by this rude tavern-keeper, as she tries to pressure him into marrying a poor barmaid, first arousing his jealousy, then managing to get his consent without him saying anything. She even engineers it so the tavern is bolted shut during the interrogation, adding to his feeling of being trapped.
There’s a courtroom scene too at the end that Trollope really delivers on. It’s enormously satisfying to watch Alaric’s famous defense attorney make our usually unruffled villain squirm.
Other than that the work is yet another Trollope tale of interlopers, status-seekers, of peace upset by a newcomer (here in the shape of a comical uncle), of conflicts of the heart and the purse. One of the larger story arcs concerns a girl who falls for a hotshot over the proverbial nice guy, even though those same attractive qualities in the former are what make him a bad investment as a mate. The two men start as friends and have, as it were, an honest disagreement about dishonesty. I found I liked them better for verbalizing their positions.
The conflicting romantic lives of the sisters reminded me of Jane Austen, except Trollope includes the men’s perspective as well, and Austen would never put in details like this:
“The London night world was all alive as he made his way. From the Opera Colonnade shrill voices shrieked out at him as he passed, and drunken men coming down from the night supper-houses in the Haymarket saluted him with affectionate cordiality. The hoarse waterman from the cabstand whose voice had perished in the night air, croaked out at him the offer of a vehicle; and one of the night beggar-women who cling like burrs to those who roam the street at these unhallowed hours still stuck to him, as she had done ever since he had entered the Strand. 'Get away with you,' said Charley, turning at the wretched creature in his fierce anger; 'get away, or I'll give you in charge.' 'That you may never know what it is to be in misery yourself!' said the miserable Irishwoman. 'If you follow me a step farther I'll have you locked up,' said Charley.”
——
Other quotes:
“Yes, Bill… Hard as the case may be, you must be hung; hung out of the way of further mischief; my spoons, my wife's throat, my children's brains, demand that. You, Bill, and polecats, and such-like, must be squelched when we can come across you…” [Trollope is comparing his villain with Dickens’ Bill Sykes and Scott’s Sir Richard Varney (from Kenilworth)].
“‘Who is M'Ruen?' asked Alaric. “A low blackguard of a discounting Jew Christian.’”
“At least that’s what the editor says.” The whole passage of Charley’s editor’s advice is quite funny, and useful, too, for the commercial writer. For example: “The editor says that we must always have a slap at some of the iniquities of the times. He gave me three or four to choose from; there was the adulteration of food, and the want of education for the poor, and street music, and the miscellaneous sale of poisons.”
[Trollope reveals so many gimmicks in this part, like the knight who gets killed because of an old family feud—just after returning from the continent, where he learned to reject such things! Trollope gives this bit of cheap irony a clever corollary: we then go back to the real story where Charley, determined to be good, decides not to go to the pub, but changes his mind because he owes money to the owner. So he returns, newly resolved to amend his ways, and almost meets his demise because of it like the fictional knight did].
Marginalia:
*I liked how Undy Scott ended his days touting his fights for the rights of married women. How fitting that the sociopath should pass himself off as a male feminist.
*It’s amazing to think what recourse Brits used to have when their options dried up. “Oh I’m disgraced/unemployed. Guess I’ll start over in Melbourne or Hong Kong.”
April 17, 2016
I love Trollope. This was a good one. The stuff about the civil service seems so ... contemporary. Topical. Still relevant. I guess some things never change.
November 21, 2023
May be my favorite Trollope! No, I loved Small House and the Warden and Barchester Towers equally well! I just love Trollope!!
November 9, 2022
Not surprisingly this is the story of three clerks. Harry and Alaric work at Weights and Measures, apparently not a bad place to make a career if you fail to go to university. The two are very good friends but the friendship comes eventually to an abrupt end when Alaric decides to marry the eldest daughter of the Woodwards, Gertrude, a girl Harry thought he should win. That is bad enough, but Alaric also breaks the heart of the lovely second daughter Linda. He had more or less declared his love for her. But not entirely, it seems, for a change of feelings, he goes for the elder one. There is an uncle who made it clear he preferred him as a husband for his favourite niece. The mother, by the way would have preferred Harry. Who is also a cousin.
Alaric also has a cousin, Charley, and he is the third clerk. And luckily there is a third daughter, Katie. She is a bit young at the beginning and Charley was more or less supposed to marry a bar maid. (Because the naughty boy has allowed her to sit on his knees once.) He also is in debt heavily and good Harry has to release him from prison at one time. And he is a writer. (He even lets Ms. Woodward read his first published little story. And they discuss it. That, I think, was supposed to be funny. Only it was not.)
Charley is the autobiographical character in this book. He saves little Katie from drowning. But Mother makes him promise do disappear. Not exactly sure why. In a quite touching scene when Katie is apparently about to die she manages to see him again and makes him promise to go steady (abandon his bar maid friends, I presume.)
This all is a bit lame. Harry too good. The Woodward ladies too good. Alaric interesting but not really believable. And the Charley scenes I found even less convincing.
Alaric not only gets the girl he also makes the next career move (there is a three day examination) and gets new acquaintances as a result. And he gets corrupted. By the villain of the book, Undy Scott. This son (the eleventh) of a lord and member of parliament persuades him to use the money of a rich lady to speculate. Very bad. Our friend does want to return the money. But too late. The shares are worth nothing from one day to the next. And so he actually is prosecuted.
We are only 100 pages from the end and I was sure I could spend only three stars at best. But totally unexpectedly the story becomes excellent. There is a magnificent court scene that alone earns the fourth star.
Harry meanwhile inherits a fortune and marries Linda. And what becomes of Charley and Katie? I will not tell.
Alaric actually has to go to prison. He deserves this, of course. What he does not deserve is his loving wife. And Mother in the end has to admit that Linda would not have been capable of handling the situation. So, all is for the best.
There is an excellent chapter on civil service that is a pure pamphlet (and was left out of early editions). And Trollope also reflects on the concept of villains in novels. He finds kind words for Bill Sikes (of Oliver Twist) compared to his villain. And says he would hang evil Undy personally. That, he says, would actually serve a purpose in making people think twice about committing white collar crime. Whereas the fate of lowly criminals like Bill is of no consequence for society.
One thing I found interesting is that the clerks at the time had working hours that I would be happy to have. Starting at 9 but more likely at 10 and finishing at 5. Of one guy it is said he would not read newspapers during working hours. But apparently he was the exception.
Alaric also has a cousin, Charley, and he is the third clerk. And luckily there is a third daughter, Katie. She is a bit young at the beginning and Charley was more or less supposed to marry a bar maid. (Because the naughty boy has allowed her to sit on his knees once.) He also is in debt heavily and good Harry has to release him from prison at one time. And he is a writer. (He even lets Ms. Woodward read his first published little story. And they discuss it. That, I think, was supposed to be funny. Only it was not.)
Charley is the autobiographical character in this book. He saves little Katie from drowning. But Mother makes him promise do disappear. Not exactly sure why. In a quite touching scene when Katie is apparently about to die she manages to see him again and makes him promise to go steady (abandon his bar maid friends, I presume.)
This all is a bit lame. Harry too good. The Woodward ladies too good. Alaric interesting but not really believable. And the Charley scenes I found even less convincing.
Alaric not only gets the girl he also makes the next career move (there is a three day examination) and gets new acquaintances as a result. And he gets corrupted. By the villain of the book, Undy Scott. This son (the eleventh) of a lord and member of parliament persuades him to use the money of a rich lady to speculate. Very bad. Our friend does want to return the money. But too late. The shares are worth nothing from one day to the next. And so he actually is prosecuted.
We are only 100 pages from the end and I was sure I could spend only three stars at best. But totally unexpectedly the story becomes excellent. There is a magnificent court scene that alone earns the fourth star.
Harry meanwhile inherits a fortune and marries Linda. And what becomes of Charley and Katie? I will not tell.
Alaric actually has to go to prison. He deserves this, of course. What he does not deserve is his loving wife. And Mother in the end has to admit that Linda would not have been capable of handling the situation. So, all is for the best.
There is an excellent chapter on civil service that is a pure pamphlet (and was left out of early editions). And Trollope also reflects on the concept of villains in novels. He finds kind words for Bill Sikes (of Oliver Twist) compared to his villain. And says he would hang evil Undy personally. That, he says, would actually serve a purpose in making people think twice about committing white collar crime. Whereas the fate of lowly criminals like Bill is of no consequence for society.
One thing I found interesting is that the clerks at the time had working hours that I would be happy to have. Starting at 9 but more likely at 10 and finishing at 5. Of one guy it is said he would not read newspapers during working hours. But apparently he was the exception.
January 8, 2021
This is not the first book I picked up this year, but it’s the first I finished. I’m not even sure if I can say with good conscience that I really, truly read it; there were huge portions of it that I skipped: the reading of Charley’s debut story, various minute descriptions about the Weights and Measures Office, and some of the machinations (electoral and other) of Undy Scott and Alaric, which were just too much for me. It was my eating book and I couldn’t concentrate on everything.
I did like the members of Woodward household, but their saintliness started to grate on me after some time. The eponymous three clerks were better drawn as characters, which is unusual with Mr. Trollope, who usually excels in portraying women. The bad guys were much more enjoyable – guys and gals, as it were; Mrs. Val and the two Misses Neverbend especially were delightful, and I would have loved to spend some more time in their unsavory company.
But I absolutely loved Trollope’s final rant about well-bred, privileged, untouchable criminals.
”Yes, I hang Bill Sykes with soft regret; but with what a savage joy, with what exultation of heart, with what alacrity of eager soul, with what aptitude of mind to the deed, would I hang my friend, Undy Scott, the member of Parliament for the Tillietudlem burghs, if I could but get at his throat for such a purpose! Hang him! aye, as high as Haman! […]
We hang men, I believe, with this object only, that we should deter others from crime; but in hanging Bill we shall hardly deter his brother. Bill Sykes must look to crime for his bread, seeing that he has been so educated, seeing that we have not yet taught him another trade.
But if I could hang Undy Scott, I think I should deter some others. The figure of Undy swinging from a gibbet at the broad end of Lombard Street would have an effect. Ah! my fingers itch to be at the rope.”
Mr. Trollope, you bloodthirsty man! And this last picture, this killing simile of his villain’s probable end:
”and how at last his wretched life will ooze out from him in some dark corner, like the filthy juice of a decayed fungus which makes hideous the hidden wall on which it bursts”
– just magnificent. So I can’t give this book less than 3 stars, even though I didn’t enjoy it as a whole, indeed I can’t.
April 1, 2017
First sentence: All the English world knows, or knows of, that branch of the Civil Service which is popularly called the Weights and Measures. Every inhabitant of London, and every casual visitor there, has admired the handsome edifice which generally goes by that name, and which stands so conspicuously confronting the Treasury Chambers.
Premise/plot: The Three Clerks that star in Trollope's novel are: Henry (Harry) Norman, Alaric Tudor, and Charley Tudor. These three will end up courting the three Woodward sisters: Gertrude, Linda, and Katie. Henry Norman takes first one friend and then the other 'home' with him. (His second home, his home-away-from home.) Mrs. Woodward LOVES hosting him for the weekend, and she enjoys some of the fellows he brings with him. The book spans years. The courtships are not rushed at all--in fact the opposite. Romance isn't exactly the genre I'd fit this in!!! Politics, crime, and family drama or melodrama all come to mind first!
My thoughts: Of the novels I've read so far this year, this is probably my least favorite of Trollope. I had definite opinions on the characters. Of the three clerks, Alaric is my least favorite. I really did like Harry and Charley, but, Charley might be more developed making him slightly more interesting. What we know about Harry: He loves Gertrude; he's rejected by Gertrude; he's angry at his friend for 'stealing' Gertrude and marrying her; he's steady and good. When the crisis comes, he's dependable 100%. Charley's character actually develops throughout the book, and, his character is more transformed or redeemed. I really loved spending time with him. He also provided the MOST entertainment throughout. He was a writer on the side. And readers are treated to his plot ideas, his stories, his conversations with his editor, and reviews of his books.
Premise/plot: The Three Clerks that star in Trollope's novel are: Henry (Harry) Norman, Alaric Tudor, and Charley Tudor. These three will end up courting the three Woodward sisters: Gertrude, Linda, and Katie. Henry Norman takes first one friend and then the other 'home' with him. (His second home, his home-away-from home.) Mrs. Woodward LOVES hosting him for the weekend, and she enjoys some of the fellows he brings with him. The book spans years. The courtships are not rushed at all--in fact the opposite. Romance isn't exactly the genre I'd fit this in!!! Politics, crime, and family drama or melodrama all come to mind first!
My thoughts: Of the novels I've read so far this year, this is probably my least favorite of Trollope. I had definite opinions on the characters. Of the three clerks, Alaric is my least favorite. I really did like Harry and Charley, but, Charley might be more developed making him slightly more interesting. What we know about Harry: He loves Gertrude; he's rejected by Gertrude; he's angry at his friend for 'stealing' Gertrude and marrying her; he's steady and good. When the crisis comes, he's dependable 100%. Charley's character actually develops throughout the book, and, his character is more transformed or redeemed. I really loved spending time with him. He also provided the MOST entertainment throughout. He was a writer on the side. And readers are treated to his plot ideas, his stories, his conversations with his editor, and reviews of his books.
February 24, 2025
This is my latest favorite Trollope novel. It starts like a sit-com with three young men living together; it's got elements of a Jane Austen marriage plot; it takes on serious issues of political and financial corruption, and has tragic plot line that vividly shows the temptations facing the ambitious. It's also very, very funny. What more could you want?
Read
February 22, 2021This novel has many funny moments, but could also stand to be a lot shorter. Veers into sentimentality to a degree that I have not seen before in Trollope.
July 31, 2015
This was my second read for the Trollope bicentennial being celebrated at Books and Chocolate. Of the four books of his that I have now read, this is definitely my least favorite. Coming in at around 550 pages this is one of Trollope’s shorter (HA!) works. The story revolves around three young gentlemen, all who work for the British Civil Service in London and their relationship to three young sisters who live a genteel, middle class life in Hampton, near London.
I think what put me off slightly in this case is that the title should really be “two and a half” clerks, since Harry is so upstanding he is dull and Trollope had nothing much to write about him. For me, it made the narrative uneven since the same weight is not given to each storyline. Also, in contrast to other Trollop novels, I didn’t find the female personalities to be particularly noteworthy and I found the “amusing” last names of most of the minor secondary characters (the lawyer, Mr. Geitemthruet or the money lender, Jabesh M’Ruen) not funny, just annoying.
Nonetheless, I liked it. In particular, there is a bit of a scandal in the book about stock speculation based on a bridge intended to replace a perfectly serviceable ferry which never gets built. I totally though about the Gravina Island Bridge in Alaska, or the “Bridge to Nowhere” which was a bit of a catch phrase in the 2008 election year. Amazing how so little has changed in over 100 years.
I think what put me off slightly in this case is that the title should really be “two and a half” clerks, since Harry is so upstanding he is dull and Trollope had nothing much to write about him. For me, it made the narrative uneven since the same weight is not given to each storyline. Also, in contrast to other Trollop novels, I didn’t find the female personalities to be particularly noteworthy and I found the “amusing” last names of most of the minor secondary characters (the lawyer, Mr. Geitemthruet or the money lender, Jabesh M’Ruen) not funny, just annoying.
Nonetheless, I liked it. In particular, there is a bit of a scandal in the book about stock speculation based on a bridge intended to replace a perfectly serviceable ferry which never gets built. I totally though about the Gravina Island Bridge in Alaska, or the “Bridge to Nowhere” which was a bit of a catch phrase in the 2008 election year. Amazing how so little has changed in over 100 years.
September 24, 2025
3.5* rounded down. The story of three civil service clerks, Henry, Alaric and Charley and of the three daughters of Mrs Woodward, Gertrude, Linda and Katie. Alaric becomes a Civil Service Commissioner and plans to run for parliament, but his moral compass is being distorted by his despicable friend Undy. Alaric throws over one sister and marries another and finally receives his comeuppance. Charley is a young scoundrel who struggles to live up to his good intentions. Henry spends the entire novel being moral, unforgiving and extraordinarily boring.
It took me a while to get into this story, but it picks up from the halfway mark. I enjoyed the parts about Charley's literary endeavours and the topics and plot devices he is encouraged to include, although I could have done without the entire text of Crinoline and Macassar. I found Alaric an interesting character until his downfall, when he sort of faded out. Charley was the real hero to root for, although even his romance was a bit lacking somehow. I feared at one point that he would marry his bride on her deathbed, but thankfully that didn't happen. The women characters were not so prominent and well-developed as usual. No hunting on the plus side, but the minor characters weren't as developed as in other Trollope novels: Clementina was a bit unbelievable and I never warmed to the Neverbend sisters. Far far too many character with names like Neverbend and Oldeschole and so on. Also more quite didactic passages than usual - Trollope certainly didn't rate Robert Peel, for example.
Not one of my favourites.
It took me a while to get into this story, but it picks up from the halfway mark. I enjoyed the parts about Charley's literary endeavours and the topics and plot devices he is encouraged to include, although I could have done without the entire text of Crinoline and Macassar. I found Alaric an interesting character until his downfall, when he sort of faded out. Charley was the real hero to root for, although even his romance was a bit lacking somehow. I feared at one point that he would marry his bride on her deathbed, but thankfully that didn't happen. The women characters were not so prominent and well-developed as usual. No hunting on the plus side, but the minor characters weren't as developed as in other Trollope novels: Clementina was a bit unbelievable and I never warmed to the Neverbend sisters. Far far too many character with names like Neverbend and Oldeschole and so on. Also more quite didactic passages than usual - Trollope certainly didn't rate Robert Peel, for example.
Not one of my favourites.
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