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The Vicar of Bullhampton
Frank Fenwick, the vicar of the title and a likeable and energetic clergyman, sets out to prove a young man's innocence in a murder and to prevent the eviction of a prostitute from her home. Choosing a prostitute as a central female character, Trollope addresses a topical question of his
time: how women should maintain due and proper regard for themselves without adopting either the manners of a prostitute or the political excesses of a feminist.
time: how women should maintain due and proper regard for themselves without adopting either the manners of a prostitute or the political excesses of a feminist.
540 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1870
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About the author
Anthony Trollope
2,385 books1,776 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 111 reviews
October 16, 2021
What a book. A wonderful Anthony Trollope novel – charming, clever, powerful and just fantastic.
August 5, 2022
Three Victorian novellas for the price of one!
If THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTOM were a contemporary novel, there would be readers who would criticize Anthony Trollope as having force fit three unrelated short or novella length stories into a single novel for the sake of publication.
The first story is a Victorian social “romance”, reminiscent of Jane Austen’s melodramatic family tales, in which Mary Lowther, very much against the advice of the vicar and his wife, flexes her feminist muscles and insists on the right to choose her life partner on the basis of actually loving the man prior to accepting his offer of marriage. Her inability to stand up to the relentless social pressure that is brought to bear results in a series of catastrophic life decisions. Whether her decisions are right or wrong, sensible or misguided, and whether Mary Lowther exemplifies a “new-age” woman or just one more victim of Victorian patriarchy is left an open question for the reader to judge.
The second story, and for my taste the weakest and least interesting story of the three, is a tale of a local landowner’s intense dislike (not to put too fine a point on it, but it was probably hatred) of the vicar and his childish attempt to disrupt the vicar’s life and livelihood by erecting a competing Methodist church directly adjoining the vicar’s property and by sending slanderous letters to the Bishop questioning the vicar’s behaviour and professionalism.
The third story tells of Jacob Brattle, a miller, a hard-working self-employed intensely focused blue collar man, whose family strays from the strict behavioural demands of the day. His son, Sam, falls into bad company and finds himself in the dock charged with murder and his daughter, Carry, for the heinous offense of having sexual relations with and accepting support from a man to whom she is not married, finds herself labeled a harlot and a prostitute. One might characterize this particular tale as a heartwarming and beautifully touching Victorian variation of a Biblical tale of the prodigal son and daughter.
THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTON is not a fast-paced novel by any means and the plots, such as they are, are driven by characters and personalities, emotions, social restrictions and culture. Readers who have attempted the likes of Dickens, Collins, Jane Austen, or the Brontë sisters and have been put off by the copious word count and the voluminous descriptive nature of the narratives will find that Trollope’s style, while still clearly Victorian, is somewhat more modern in flavour. That said, I also found it definitely entertaining as well as interesting and informative on the issues of the day. It was somewhat of a surprise to me to find that other reviewers have suggested that THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTON is not Trollope’s best work. In that case, I'm in luck!! All I can say is that I’m definitely looking forward to another one.
Paul Weiss
If THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTOM were a contemporary novel, there would be readers who would criticize Anthony Trollope as having force fit three unrelated short or novella length stories into a single novel for the sake of publication.
The first story is a Victorian social “romance”, reminiscent of Jane Austen’s melodramatic family tales, in which Mary Lowther, very much against the advice of the vicar and his wife, flexes her feminist muscles and insists on the right to choose her life partner on the basis of actually loving the man prior to accepting his offer of marriage. Her inability to stand up to the relentless social pressure that is brought to bear results in a series of catastrophic life decisions. Whether her decisions are right or wrong, sensible or misguided, and whether Mary Lowther exemplifies a “new-age” woman or just one more victim of Victorian patriarchy is left an open question for the reader to judge.
The second story, and for my taste the weakest and least interesting story of the three, is a tale of a local landowner’s intense dislike (not to put too fine a point on it, but it was probably hatred) of the vicar and his childish attempt to disrupt the vicar’s life and livelihood by erecting a competing Methodist church directly adjoining the vicar’s property and by sending slanderous letters to the Bishop questioning the vicar’s behaviour and professionalism.
The third story tells of Jacob Brattle, a miller, a hard-working self-employed intensely focused blue collar man, whose family strays from the strict behavioural demands of the day. His son, Sam, falls into bad company and finds himself in the dock charged with murder and his daughter, Carry, for the heinous offense of having sexual relations with and accepting support from a man to whom she is not married, finds herself labeled a harlot and a prostitute. One might characterize this particular tale as a heartwarming and beautifully touching Victorian variation of a Biblical tale of the prodigal son and daughter.
THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTON is not a fast-paced novel by any means and the plots, such as they are, are driven by characters and personalities, emotions, social restrictions and culture. Readers who have attempted the likes of Dickens, Collins, Jane Austen, or the Brontë sisters and have been put off by the copious word count and the voluminous descriptive nature of the narratives will find that Trollope’s style, while still clearly Victorian, is somewhat more modern in flavour. That said, I also found it definitely entertaining as well as interesting and informative on the issues of the day. It was somewhat of a surprise to me to find that other reviewers have suggested that THE VICAR OF BULLHAMPTON is not Trollope’s best work. In that case, I'm in luck!! All I can say is that I’m definitely looking forward to another one.
Paul Weiss
October 22, 2019
“Now men in love, let their case be ever so bad, must dine or die.”
Sometimes I wonder what makes Anthony Trollope’s novels, on the whole, so attractive to me. They are not seldom drawn out by repetitions and redundancies, which clearly bespeak Trollope’s own mundane attitude towards writing and his habit of putting in several hours of doing so before breakfast. They lack the imagination and originality of Dickens, who was able to describe a rainy morning in a way that makes you long for an umbrella, or the depth of George Eliot when it comes to probing her characters’ souls, and they also fail to tickle our interest in mere sensation, as Wilkie Collins or Mary Elizabeth Braddon usually did. When, however, I read a sentence as the one with which I introduced this short review, it suddenly comes home to me what I like most about Trollope: He is utterly averse to pathos and romantic silliness and instead gives us people as they are – mostly aware of the fact that somehow or other they have to eat at least once a day, an awareness that may not necessarily make them egoistic and cruel, like Ebenezer Scrooge before he lost his common sense, but still allows them to uphold certain principles. There is probably no one like Trollope when you want to learn about Victorian everyday life and mores.
The Vicar of Bullhampton is one of Trollope’s most flawless novels, in my opinion, because it gives us a variety of plots and at the same time abstains from those mind-tiring redundancies you can find in novels like Ayala’s Angel or Is He Popenjoy?. Unusually for Trollope, there is even a murder in this novel but since nobody but Constable Toffy seems to be tasked with the running down of the murderer(s), you can hardly expect a novel of detection. Instead, Trollope once more focuses on marriage problems for at least half of the book. This time, there is young Mary Lowther, a woman who is related to the eminent Marrable family but whose fortune is, indeed, meagre so that she lives with her spinster aunt Sarah in Loring. Mary Lowther is often invited to her friend Janet Fenwick’s, who is the wife of the Reverend Frank Fenwick of Bullhampton. Here, she is constantly courted by the reverend’s best friend, Squire Harry Gilmore, but since she does not really feel the same kind of love or enthusiasm with regard to her suitor which she thinks it only right to feel for a prospective husband, she puts Gilmore off with the promise that he might ask her hand again some day. Gilmore is so much in love that he will bide his time, but then Mary falls in love with her cousin, Captain Marrable, who is also enraptured by Mary. The only problem is that the Captain has no prospects of earning enough money to support a wife and children, and he angrily says,
Our two lovers are given to dreaming about a future that will hold some attraction for them despite their lack of financial means, but by and by, the joint efforts of other family members succeed in talking them out of their engagement, and here is where troubles really begin. To the modern reader, it is interesting to read about Victorian proprieties and unofficial but still cogent marriage restrictions with regard to money, and I think there is a lot of common sense in this for who would want to offer their children a life of privation and financial insecurity? What always strikes me as odd about those Victorian gentlemen is that they seem to invariably depend on the timely deaths of their fathers, uncles or elder brothers in order to come into the entailed family property. Being gentlemen, it would surely hurt their dignity and digestion to roll up their sleeves and acquire the means for their own existence and prosperity through hard work, and so they prefer a meagre salary as an army officer to doing some real work and standing on their own two feet the boots for which they could pay for with their own money.
Trollope himself appears to have felt this way in connection with some representatives of the upper classes because he says of the Marquis of Trowbridge, the chief opponent of the eponymous Vicar,
And still, we are obviously supposed to regard the likes of Captain Marrable as men to be taken seriously instead of being looked down on as idle scroungers!
The fates of these genteel people are balanced with another plot, namely the lot of the Brattle family. Mr. Brattle is the miller of Bullhampton, a morose and taciturn old man, whom even the Vicar is afraid of, and one of his daughters, Caroline, has gone astray in a manner that could hardly be put into words in Victorian fiction (and probably not always in Victorian reality). I think the Victorian term was “fallen woman” or “unfortunate”, and at one point in the story, Caroline is asked whether it be true that she has been “indiscreet”. Now, Frank Fenwick is a very courageous and good-hearted man, who has a better remembrance of what Jesus said of sinners than people in general, be they clergy or laypeople, are endowed with, and his intention is to reconcile Carrie with her family and prevent her from following the road of vice to its usual end. This plan of Fenwick’s will not only meet with opposition from old Brattle but also make the reverend the target of evil rumours spread by the Marquis of Trowbridge and Mr. Puddleham, the low church minister.
Trollope anticipated that making a prostitute a major character of one of his novels might incur criticism and censure, and therefore he justified his decision in a foreword – but all in all, his misgivings were unwarranted in that no public outcry ensued. Still, there are some ideas that, from a Victorian perspective, might have been quite outspoken:
Although Trollope himself said that Gilmore and Captain Marrable are the two heroes of the story, I am probably not alone in thinking that the actual hero of the story – when it comes to courage, decency and firmness of purpose – is the eponymous Vicar of Bullhampton, along with his wonderful wife, because unlike the two former men, he is also able to question himself and his own course of action. Apart from Frank Fenwick, there is yet another hero – and that is the plucky Sam Brattle, Carrie’s brother, who does a lot to help his sister.
Sometimes I wonder what makes Anthony Trollope’s novels, on the whole, so attractive to me. They are not seldom drawn out by repetitions and redundancies, which clearly bespeak Trollope’s own mundane attitude towards writing and his habit of putting in several hours of doing so before breakfast. They lack the imagination and originality of Dickens, who was able to describe a rainy morning in a way that makes you long for an umbrella, or the depth of George Eliot when it comes to probing her characters’ souls, and they also fail to tickle our interest in mere sensation, as Wilkie Collins or Mary Elizabeth Braddon usually did. When, however, I read a sentence as the one with which I introduced this short review, it suddenly comes home to me what I like most about Trollope: He is utterly averse to pathos and romantic silliness and instead gives us people as they are – mostly aware of the fact that somehow or other they have to eat at least once a day, an awareness that may not necessarily make them egoistic and cruel, like Ebenezer Scrooge before he lost his common sense, but still allows them to uphold certain principles. There is probably no one like Trollope when you want to learn about Victorian everyday life and mores.
The Vicar of Bullhampton is one of Trollope’s most flawless novels, in my opinion, because it gives us a variety of plots and at the same time abstains from those mind-tiring redundancies you can find in novels like Ayala’s Angel or Is He Popenjoy?. Unusually for Trollope, there is even a murder in this novel but since nobody but Constable Toffy seems to be tasked with the running down of the murderer(s), you can hardly expect a novel of detection. Instead, Trollope once more focuses on marriage problems for at least half of the book. This time, there is young Mary Lowther, a woman who is related to the eminent Marrable family but whose fortune is, indeed, meagre so that she lives with her spinster aunt Sarah in Loring. Mary Lowther is often invited to her friend Janet Fenwick’s, who is the wife of the Reverend Frank Fenwick of Bullhampton. Here, she is constantly courted by the reverend’s best friend, Squire Harry Gilmore, but since she does not really feel the same kind of love or enthusiasm with regard to her suitor which she thinks it only right to feel for a prospective husband, she puts Gilmore off with the promise that he might ask her hand again some day. Gilmore is so much in love that he will bide his time, but then Mary falls in love with her cousin, Captain Marrable, who is also enraptured by Mary. The only problem is that the Captain has no prospects of earning enough money to support a wife and children, and he angrily says,
”’According to the doctrines that are going now-a-days, […] it will be held soon that a gentleman can’t marry unless he has got £3000 a year. It is the most heartless, damnable teaching that ever came up. It spoils the men, and makes women, when they do marry, expect ever so many things that they ought never to want.’”
Our two lovers are given to dreaming about a future that will hold some attraction for them despite their lack of financial means, but by and by, the joint efforts of other family members succeed in talking them out of their engagement, and here is where troubles really begin. To the modern reader, it is interesting to read about Victorian proprieties and unofficial but still cogent marriage restrictions with regard to money, and I think there is a lot of common sense in this for who would want to offer their children a life of privation and financial insecurity? What always strikes me as odd about those Victorian gentlemen is that they seem to invariably depend on the timely deaths of their fathers, uncles or elder brothers in order to come into the entailed family property. Being gentlemen, it would surely hurt their dignity and digestion to roll up their sleeves and acquire the means for their own existence and prosperity through hard work, and so they prefer a meagre salary as an army officer to doing some real work and standing on their own two feet the boots for which they could pay for with their own money.
Trollope himself appears to have felt this way in connection with some representatives of the upper classes because he says of the Marquis of Trowbridge, the chief opponent of the eponymous Vicar,
”[…] he was a silly, weak, ignorant man, whose own capacity would hardly have procured bread for him in any trade or profession, had bread not been so adequately provided for him by his fathers before him.”
And still, we are obviously supposed to regard the likes of Captain Marrable as men to be taken seriously instead of being looked down on as idle scroungers!
The fates of these genteel people are balanced with another plot, namely the lot of the Brattle family. Mr. Brattle is the miller of Bullhampton, a morose and taciturn old man, whom even the Vicar is afraid of, and one of his daughters, Caroline, has gone astray in a manner that could hardly be put into words in Victorian fiction (and probably not always in Victorian reality). I think the Victorian term was “fallen woman” or “unfortunate”, and at one point in the story, Caroline is asked whether it be true that she has been “indiscreet”. Now, Frank Fenwick is a very courageous and good-hearted man, who has a better remembrance of what Jesus said of sinners than people in general, be they clergy or laypeople, are endowed with, and his intention is to reconcile Carrie with her family and prevent her from following the road of vice to its usual end. This plan of Fenwick’s will not only meet with opposition from old Brattle but also make the reverend the target of evil rumours spread by the Marquis of Trowbridge and Mr. Puddleham, the low church minister.
Trollope anticipated that making a prostitute a major character of one of his novels might incur criticism and censure, and therefore he justified his decision in a foreword – but all in all, his misgivings were unwarranted in that no public outcry ensued. Still, there are some ideas that, from a Victorian perspective, might have been quite outspoken:
”’Nobody loves me now,’ she said, talking at him over her shoulder, which was turned to him. He thought for a moment that he would tell her that the Lord loved her; but there was something human at his heart, something perhaps too human, which made him feel that were he down low upon the ground, some love that was nearer to him, some love that was more easily intelligible, which had been more palpably felt, would in his frailty and his wickedness be of more immediate avail to him than the love even of the Lord God.”
Although Trollope himself said that Gilmore and Captain Marrable are the two heroes of the story, I am probably not alone in thinking that the actual hero of the story – when it comes to courage, decency and firmness of purpose – is the eponymous Vicar of Bullhampton, along with his wonderful wife, because unlike the two former men, he is also able to question himself and his own course of action. Apart from Frank Fenwick, there is yet another hero – and that is the plucky Sam Brattle, Carrie’s brother, who does a lot to help his sister.
June 7, 2023
This story isn’t just about the eponymous vicar of Bullhampton. It is, however, through him that the different characters and threads are tied together. A murder has been committed and must be solved. There is a complicated relationship between the miller and his “wayward”, so-called disreputable daughter to be resolved. A chapel is erected on a tiny patch of land at the parsonage’s doorstep! Who owns this teeny morsel of land is hotly debated and confusion is rife concerning who owns it. Of course, there are love affairs too. In fact, not just one but two! There is a lot going on in this novel and each and every thread draws the reader’s interest! That the author is able to carry this off with such panache is amazing.
The characters live and breathe. They are real. They have good and bad qualities, each and every one of them. There is a wealthy high society hypocrite so very full of himself. We are induced to laugh at him, as well as what he does. He thus becomes an element of fun rather than a source of lecturing or complaint. The vicar’s wife has her heart in the right place, but her good intentions get off track. A character might try to be good and yet fail, deplorably. Should one listen to dear friends or your intuitions and your heart? A person tries one thing, then another, not knowing which is the right way to go. Each step along the way, the reader is almost convinced the character might finally be on the right path. And yet you are not quite sure. The point is that you remain engaged.
The tale is long, but it doesn’t seem so! You finish it, feeling you have been given the whole, the complete story, and yet it is without extraneous, unnecessary details.
There is a central message, and this I agree with. People marry for different reasons. People and circumstances vary. Trollope neglects none of this in his analysis of love and marriage. More I will not say.
Character portrayal is well done. There is not a whiff of pontification in the tale’s moral and religious teachings. Humor has us laughing rather than our becoming annoyed at infuriatingly bad behavior. All the strands of the story are tied together in a satisfying and believable way. Few authors are capable of giving readers a long story that is tight, well-constructed and engaging all the way through.
The narrator of the audiobook is Peter Newcombe Joyce. The narration is good. No, it’s very good. My only complaint would be that you do not hear the words of the female characters when they are balling or crying their eyes out. The miller’s family speak in a heavy dialect, so the listener must pay careful attention to catch every word. I want both the dialect and to hear every word. I am a picky listener! The narration I have given four stars.
Do you want to escape into another world? Do you want to be immersed in a different time and place? In this story you find yourself in the town Wiltshire, located seventeen miles from Salisbury, England, during the mid-1800s.
P.S. There is one more reason to pick up this book. Anthony Trollope has quite a knack for drawing strong female characters!
*********************
Palliser Series :
1.Can You Forgive Her? 3 stars
2.Phineas Finn 4 stars
Standalones :
*The Vicar of Bullhampton 5 stars
*Orley Farm 4 stars
*Miss Mackenzie 3 stars
*Dr. Wortle's School 3 stars
*Sir Harry Hotspur Of Humblethwaite 2 stars
*The Way We Live Now 1 star
*An Old Man's Love TBR
*Autobiography of Anthony Trollope TBR
Chronicles of Barsetshire :
1.The Warden 3 stars
2.Barchester Towers 4 stars
3.Dr. Thorne 4 stars
4.Framley Parsonage 4 stars
5.The Small House at Allington 5 stars
6.The Last Chronicle of Barset 5 stars
The characters live and breathe. They are real. They have good and bad qualities, each and every one of them. There is a wealthy high society hypocrite so very full of himself. We are induced to laugh at him, as well as what he does. He thus becomes an element of fun rather than a source of lecturing or complaint. The vicar’s wife has her heart in the right place, but her good intentions get off track. A character might try to be good and yet fail, deplorably. Should one listen to dear friends or your intuitions and your heart? A person tries one thing, then another, not knowing which is the right way to go. Each step along the way, the reader is almost convinced the character might finally be on the right path. And yet you are not quite sure. The point is that you remain engaged.
The tale is long, but it doesn’t seem so! You finish it, feeling you have been given the whole, the complete story, and yet it is without extraneous, unnecessary details.
There is a central message, and this I agree with. People marry for different reasons. People and circumstances vary. Trollope neglects none of this in his analysis of love and marriage. More I will not say.
Character portrayal is well done. There is not a whiff of pontification in the tale’s moral and religious teachings. Humor has us laughing rather than our becoming annoyed at infuriatingly bad behavior. All the strands of the story are tied together in a satisfying and believable way. Few authors are capable of giving readers a long story that is tight, well-constructed and engaging all the way through.
The narrator of the audiobook is Peter Newcombe Joyce. The narration is good. No, it’s very good. My only complaint would be that you do not hear the words of the female characters when they are balling or crying their eyes out. The miller’s family speak in a heavy dialect, so the listener must pay careful attention to catch every word. I want both the dialect and to hear every word. I am a picky listener! The narration I have given four stars.
Do you want to escape into another world? Do you want to be immersed in a different time and place? In this story you find yourself in the town Wiltshire, located seventeen miles from Salisbury, England, during the mid-1800s.
P.S. There is one more reason to pick up this book. Anthony Trollope has quite a knack for drawing strong female characters!
*********************
Palliser Series :
1.Can You Forgive Her? 3 stars
2.Phineas Finn 4 stars
Standalones :
*The Vicar of Bullhampton 5 stars
*Orley Farm 4 stars
*Miss Mackenzie 3 stars
*Dr. Wortle's School 3 stars
*Sir Harry Hotspur Of Humblethwaite 2 stars
*The Way We Live Now 1 star
*An Old Man's Love TBR
*Autobiography of Anthony Trollope TBR
Chronicles of Barsetshire :
1.The Warden 3 stars
2.Barchester Towers 4 stars
3.Dr. Thorne 4 stars
4.Framley Parsonage 4 stars
5.The Small House at Allington 5 stars
6.The Last Chronicle of Barset 5 stars
June 19, 2009
I have discovered from reading so many of his novels that Trollope wrote eight or nine great novels for every merely good one. He is so consistently on message -- and so consistently in control of his material -- that few authors give me so much pleasure when opening a new book of theirs. In addition, Trollope comes across as a force for reason and morality in a world where the verities are beginning to crumble. He is a man of his time and place, so one has to be somewhat used to Victorian modes of thought to appreciate him.
The Vicar of Bullhampton is a good one of his novels to begin with. It is wholly self contained and deals with an interesting theme: The hero, The Rev. Frank Fenwick, is a truly good man who at times places himself in harm's way to act as he feels a Christian should in a world where everything seems to serve as an obstacle or even a threat.
The Vicar of Bullhampton is a good one of his novels to begin with. It is wholly self contained and deals with an interesting theme: The hero, The Rev. Frank Fenwick, is a truly good man who at times places himself in harm's way to act as he feels a Christian should in a world where everything seems to serve as an obstacle or even a threat.
September 16, 2011
What a wonderful writer Trollope is, I admit that Dickens is the greater contemporary writer, but Trollope's women are so alive. While with Dickens women are either sluts or saints, Trollope manages to create women of flesh and blood. This novel is highly recommended to experienced Trollope readers, others new to Anthony's universe, should begin with the Barchester novels or the Paliser ones.
May 14, 2022
Without a doubt, the best standalone Trollope I’ve read. There are many threads to this story, and I loved them all. There are so many great characters, lots of interesting issues explored. I hope to write a longer review soon.
March 4, 2025
“If we were to love only the good, we should love very few.”
Empathetically portraying the consequences of obdurate stigmatization—its moral wrongfulness and social destructiveness—astutely analyzing gender double standards for behavior, and accurately depicting the nature of depression and the deep pain it causes, both to the depressed and to those who care about them, this is one of Anthony Trollope’s most moving novels. I shed many tears in the later chapters.
There are three parts to the story. One follows a fearless and combative clergyman who struggles to help a disgraced young woman who has been banished by her family: “Now she was a thing, somewhere, never to be mentioned!” Trollope shows how unwilling society is to forgive such women—those who have deviated from gender norms—despite it overlooking the more selfish sins of men, such as a father stealing everything from his son: “My dear boy, I have an appetite, and I must go and satisfy it.” The clergyman finds that not even reminding Christians of Mary Magdalen will soften their hearts toward the fallen woman.
“Their hearts are like the nether millstone … Nothing touches them. Do unto others as you think they would do unto you. That’s their doctrine.”
This subplot includes two of the most affecting scenes that I have ever read. One happens between the clergyman, Rev. Frank Fenwick, and the disgraced woman’s stern, obstinate, unreligious, passive aggressive father, Jacob Brattle. The other, which is even more of a tear-jerker, is between the disgraced woman, Carry Brattle, and her father.
“Have you no knowledge that sin may be left behind and deserted as well as virtue?”
Other parts of the story deal with Rev. Fenwick’s imperfections and with a love triangle that reveals the disastrous consequences that can result from overbearing efforts at matchmaking, even when the people involved are upstanding and acting with the best of intentions. Rev. Fenwick’s flaws as a human come through directly in a feud with a rich, powerful landowner, and indirectly in his questionable intermixing of professional and personal relationships, which may or may not have contributed to a young man falling in with the wrong crowd. The feuding and love-triangle subplots are extremely well done, but they are not what makes this novel special. The subplot about Carry Brattle is what makes it one of Trollope’s best.
Other Quotes Worth Remembering:
“A man in bound to take a woman’s decision against him, bear it as he may, and say as little against it as possible. He is bound to do so when he is convinced that a woman’s decision is final: and there can be no stronger proof of such finality than the fact that she has declared a preference for some other man.”
“The straight-going people of the world, in dealing with those who go crooked, are almost always unreasonable.”
“It may be doubted whether, to the normal policeman’s mind, any man is ever altogether absolved of any crime which that man’s name has been once connected.”
Empathetically portraying the consequences of obdurate stigmatization—its moral wrongfulness and social destructiveness—astutely analyzing gender double standards for behavior, and accurately depicting the nature of depression and the deep pain it causes, both to the depressed and to those who care about them, this is one of Anthony Trollope’s most moving novels. I shed many tears in the later chapters.
There are three parts to the story. One follows a fearless and combative clergyman who struggles to help a disgraced young woman who has been banished by her family: “Now she was a thing, somewhere, never to be mentioned!” Trollope shows how unwilling society is to forgive such women—those who have deviated from gender norms—despite it overlooking the more selfish sins of men, such as a father stealing everything from his son: “My dear boy, I have an appetite, and I must go and satisfy it.” The clergyman finds that not even reminding Christians of Mary Magdalen will soften their hearts toward the fallen woman.
“Their hearts are like the nether millstone … Nothing touches them. Do unto others as you think they would do unto you. That’s their doctrine.”
This subplot includes two of the most affecting scenes that I have ever read. One happens between the clergyman, Rev. Frank Fenwick, and the disgraced woman’s stern, obstinate, unreligious, passive aggressive father, Jacob Brattle. The other, which is even more of a tear-jerker, is between the disgraced woman, Carry Brattle, and her father.
“Have you no knowledge that sin may be left behind and deserted as well as virtue?”
Other parts of the story deal with Rev. Fenwick’s imperfections and with a love triangle that reveals the disastrous consequences that can result from overbearing efforts at matchmaking, even when the people involved are upstanding and acting with the best of intentions. Rev. Fenwick’s flaws as a human come through directly in a feud with a rich, powerful landowner, and indirectly in his questionable intermixing of professional and personal relationships, which may or may not have contributed to a young man falling in with the wrong crowd. The feuding and love-triangle subplots are extremely well done, but they are not what makes this novel special. The subplot about Carry Brattle is what makes it one of Trollope’s best.
Other Quotes Worth Remembering:
“A man in bound to take a woman’s decision against him, bear it as he may, and say as little against it as possible. He is bound to do so when he is convinced that a woman’s decision is final: and there can be no stronger proof of such finality than the fact that she has declared a preference for some other man.”
“The straight-going people of the world, in dealing with those who go crooked, are almost always unreasonable.”
“It may be doubted whether, to the normal policeman’s mind, any man is ever altogether absolved of any crime which that man’s name has been once connected.”
July 10, 2008
This is one of my favourite Trollope novels (I've read them all!) because the central character of the stubborn and likeable vicar, Frank Fenwick, is so vividly alive - his relationship with his wife is also a refreshing example of a happy marriage in literature where there's nothing cloying or over-sweet about it. Also very interesting that a prostitute is a central character. I really ought to reread this one.:)
June 7, 2017
I do so enjoy reading Trollope. He isn't deep, and perhaps doesn't give the reader much to chew over either during or after. His characterizations are excellent.
Mr. Fenwick, the Vicar of the title, is not so much the central character as the man who knows all of the characters of the major plot and the various sub-plots. He and his wife have a very solid marriage and wish for the same for two of their close friends. This leads them to play match-maker and is the main plot line. Near to the vicarage is the family of Jacob Brattle, a miller, whose daughter is the prostitute referenced in most of the descriptions of the novel. And for comic relief, Trollope gives us the Marquis of Trowbridge, who lives at Turnover Castle, who thinks more highly of himself than he deserves, and who thinks far less of the vicar than *he* deserves.
The female lead in the love story is named Mary Lowther. By the time I was well past the halfway mark, I began thinking of her as Mary Loathe Her. I don't know what people thought of this woman at the time the novel was published. She was as real as Trollope could make her - and he is very good with female characterizations, unlike Dickens, who is not - but I came to have little sympathy for her.
This is a thoroughly-enjoyed, but not wonderful, novel. As such, it will have to be satisfied with its four stars, though there were segments when it aspired to five.
Mr. Fenwick, the Vicar of the title, is not so much the central character as the man who knows all of the characters of the major plot and the various sub-plots. He and his wife have a very solid marriage and wish for the same for two of their close friends. This leads them to play match-maker and is the main plot line. Near to the vicarage is the family of Jacob Brattle, a miller, whose daughter is the prostitute referenced in most of the descriptions of the novel. And for comic relief, Trollope gives us the Marquis of Trowbridge, who lives at Turnover Castle, who thinks more highly of himself than he deserves, and who thinks far less of the vicar than *he* deserves.
The female lead in the love story is named Mary Lowther. By the time I was well past the halfway mark, I began thinking of her as Mary Loathe Her. I don't know what people thought of this woman at the time the novel was published. She was as real as Trollope could make her - and he is very good with female characterizations, unlike Dickens, who is not - but I came to have little sympathy for her.
This is a thoroughly-enjoyed, but not wonderful, novel. As such, it will have to be satisfied with its four stars, though there were segments when it aspired to five.
January 17, 2016
Reread for book group Jan 2016.
Thoroughly enjoyed again. Not to my brain's credit that a reread four years later can seem like reading a new book, I could remember main characters but couldn't remember details (like who Mary actually ended up with or if the murderer's were ever found).
Still, really love Trollope's characters. He's so good at making real, live people.
This time I was interested in his thoughts on the differences between female friends and male friends, his description of what two man friends are like to each other is priceless and absolutely true.
Also more struck with the way the poor miller felt about the waywardness of his children and how much their actions hurt him. As my children get older I am beginning to realize that the sufferings a parent might endure with young children are nothing to what a parent might endure when the children are older. Choices are so much more costly.
It's been a bit since I've read a Trollope. It was good to revisit that friendship. Cozy but thoughtful. Warm but active.
--
This review contains one small sort of spoiler. Sorry if it bothers you.
Complex. This is Trollope’s first finished novel after retiring from his 35 year postal office career—his first book as a full-time writer. It is masterful and perplexing all at once.
The writing is absolutely superb. Trollope’s thoughts on paper at his very best. The characters are as real as you could ever hope for, complete, real, complex, endearing, maddening and baffling all at once. Real people are very often puzzling and yet lovable at once. Trollope has always captured this phenomenon perfectly.
The heart is also brilliant. Humor, pathos, empathy, indignation are all in store for readers of this marvelous book.
The one thing lacking in this book, perhaps, is that there is simply not enough of the main character, the namesake, the Vicar of Bullhampton. I wanted more of him and could have dispensed with, say, the “heroine,” Mary Lowther—whom I think Trollope wanted us to love, but was lacking and quite unsympathetic, as were her two “Beaus.” If there could be said to be a failure in this book’s execution, in my opinion it would be in the case of Mary and her two men. I really didn’t hold much sympathy for any of them, or at least very little. For Mary and Walter, none, for Harry Gilmore, some, but probably not as much as he deserved.
For me, that “failure” was mostly overshadowed by the absolute magnificence of the other characters. The Vicar and his darling wife, Jacob Brattle and all his family, even the smaller parts of the Marquis & son, Mr. Puddleham, Miss Marrable and other minor characters, with probably the Brattles being the most admirable execution of characterization. Trollope brings them all to life, even if they are of the smallest consequence. Each time I read him, I am amazed at the way he makes men and women so loveable, even when they aren’t perfect. It makes me think that he must have held great love and understanding in his heart for the people around him. He seemed to understand that even the most perfect has imperfections which do not necessarily mar, and that even the most vile can hold on to something that speaks to us and makes us feel sympathy and a willingness to forgive.
The theme of this book is forgiveness, from small grievances to enormous wrongs. It was well, well done. Of the miller and his daughter, I can hardly express how much their reconciliation moved me. That was large and empowering. And yet, Trollope also can make forgiveness of small wrongs, such as between the Vicar and the Marquis a matter of thought and marvelous wonder. Just beautiful.
Trollope’s down-to-earth wisdom and love for mankind speak more of true Christianity than many a tract or piece of religious literature meant to soften hearts could be. His pithy remarks always are to the point…meaning, perhaps, that he makes a point without preaching much more palatably and perfectly than most anyone else could do.
For the time period, this book treated of a totally tabooed subject, the all-but impossible regeneration of a “fallen” woman. Trollope considers this in a much more realistic fashion than did Gaskell in Ruth, although her book was wonderful. He doesn’t turn the woman into a repentant angel, rather he portrays her as a real person who has to come to grips with the reality of her life just as we all do, while the people she has hurt have to do likewise. Although many of my favorite lines below seem to imply that this book is largely religious and treats mostly of the woman, such is not the case. She is really only a small part of the general theme and as always, Trollope’s religion mainly comes out in the general feel of beneficence rather than preachiness. Case in point, the Miller Brattle.
Some of my favorite passages (and I have markers and notes everywhere):
“There is no curse upon the poor heavier than that which comes from the early breach of all ties of duty between fathers and their sons, and mothers and their daughters.” (43)
--
The two ministers, Mr. Puddleham & the Vicar (Mr. Fenwick) are speaking of the poor girl, Carry Brattle, who had been led into vice some years previous. Mr. Puddleham has used some harsh language and called her a prostitute.
“But I think you were a little wrong as to another statement.”
“What statement, Mr. Fenwick?”
“What you said about poor Carry Brattle. You don’t know it as a fact.”
“Everybody says so.”
“How do you know she has not married, and become an honest woman?”
“It is possible, of course. Though as for that,—when a young woman has once gone astray----“
“As did Mary Magdalene, for instance!”
“Mr. Fenwick, it was a very bad case.”
“And isn’t my case very bad, --and yours? Are we not in a bad way,--unless we believe and repent? Have we not all so sinned as to deserve eternal punishment?
“Certainly, Mr. Fenwick.”
“Then there can’t be much difference between her and us. She can’t deserve more than eternal punishment. If she believes and repents, all her sins will be white as snow.”
“Certainly, Mr. Fenwick.”
“Then speak of her as you would of any other sister or brother,--not as a thing that must always be vile because she has fallen once. Women will so speak,--and other men. One sees something of a reason for it. But you and I, as Christian ministers, should never allow ourselves to speak so thoughtlessly of sinners.” (113-114)
--
“The longer I live the more convinced I become that a man shouldn’t keep his own sores open.” (164)
--
“Is it that, then;--your own misfortune and not the girl’s sin that would harden your heart against your own child? You will let her perish in the streets, not because she has fallen, but because she has hurt you in her fall! Is that to be a father? Is that to be a man?” (174)
--
“Though he was fond of a fight he had taught himself to know that in no way could he do the business of his life more highly or more usefully than as a peacemaker.” (229)
--
“It is hard to say who makes the greatest mistakes, women who treat their own selves with too great a reverence, or they who do so with too little.” (241)
--
“What this woman had been saying to him was only what the world had said to her,--the world that knows so much better how to treat an erring sinner than did Our Savior when on earth.” (264)
--
“At last the whole matter resolved itself to this; --was it possible for her to divest her idea of life of all romance, and to look for contentment and satisfaction in the performance of duties to others?” (316)
--
“She was becoming sick of the importance to which she imputed to herself in thinking of herself.” (322)
--
“It is the lack of object, of all aim, in the lives of houseless wanderers that gives to them the most terrible element of their misery.” (336)
--
“…when you have a doubt as to your duty, you can’t be wrong in delaying that, the doing of which would gratify your own ill will.” (367)
--
“These and such like are the troubles that sit heavy on a man’s heart. If search for bread, and meat, and raiment, be set aside, then, beyond that, our happiness and misery here depends chiefly on success or failure in small things. Though a man when he turns into bed may be sure that he has unlimited thousands at his command, though all society be open to him, though he know himself to be esteemed handsome, clever, and fashionable, even though his digestion be good, and he have no doctor to deny him tobacco, champagne, or made dishes, still, if he be conscious of failure there where he has striven to succeed, even though it be in the humbling of an already humble adversary, he will stretch, and roll, and pine,--a wretched being. How happy is he who can get his fretting done for him by deputy!” (389)
--
“The truth is, that the possession of a grievance is the one state of human blessedness.” (398)
--
“If they only know’d what them as cares for ‘em ‘d has to bear, maybe they’d think a little.” (410) says the Miller about his wayward children.
--
“…if you ever come to have one foot bad o’ the gout, it won’t make you right to know that the other ain’t got it. Y’ll have the pain a gnawing of you from the bad food till you clean forget all the rest o’ your body.” (411) still the Miller speaking of his good children versus his bad ones—the good ones are hardly a comfort to him when he still has to endure the bad ones.
Thoroughly enjoyed again. Not to my brain's credit that a reread four years later can seem like reading a new book, I could remember main characters but couldn't remember details (like who Mary actually ended up with or if the murderer's were ever found).
Still, really love Trollope's characters. He's so good at making real, live people.
This time I was interested in his thoughts on the differences between female friends and male friends, his description of what two man friends are like to each other is priceless and absolutely true.
Also more struck with the way the poor miller felt about the waywardness of his children and how much their actions hurt him. As my children get older I am beginning to realize that the sufferings a parent might endure with young children are nothing to what a parent might endure when the children are older. Choices are so much more costly.
It's been a bit since I've read a Trollope. It was good to revisit that friendship. Cozy but thoughtful. Warm but active.
--
This review contains one small sort of spoiler. Sorry if it bothers you.
Complex. This is Trollope’s first finished novel after retiring from his 35 year postal office career—his first book as a full-time writer. It is masterful and perplexing all at once.
The writing is absolutely superb. Trollope’s thoughts on paper at his very best. The characters are as real as you could ever hope for, complete, real, complex, endearing, maddening and baffling all at once. Real people are very often puzzling and yet lovable at once. Trollope has always captured this phenomenon perfectly.
The heart is also brilliant. Humor, pathos, empathy, indignation are all in store for readers of this marvelous book.
The one thing lacking in this book, perhaps, is that there is simply not enough of the main character, the namesake, the Vicar of Bullhampton. I wanted more of him and could have dispensed with, say, the “heroine,” Mary Lowther—whom I think Trollope wanted us to love, but was lacking and quite unsympathetic, as were her two “Beaus.” If there could be said to be a failure in this book’s execution, in my opinion it would be in the case of Mary and her two men. I really didn’t hold much sympathy for any of them, or at least very little. For Mary and Walter, none, for Harry Gilmore, some, but probably not as much as he deserved.
For me, that “failure” was mostly overshadowed by the absolute magnificence of the other characters. The Vicar and his darling wife, Jacob Brattle and all his family, even the smaller parts of the Marquis & son, Mr. Puddleham, Miss Marrable and other minor characters, with probably the Brattles being the most admirable execution of characterization. Trollope brings them all to life, even if they are of the smallest consequence. Each time I read him, I am amazed at the way he makes men and women so loveable, even when they aren’t perfect. It makes me think that he must have held great love and understanding in his heart for the people around him. He seemed to understand that even the most perfect has imperfections which do not necessarily mar, and that even the most vile can hold on to something that speaks to us and makes us feel sympathy and a willingness to forgive.
The theme of this book is forgiveness, from small grievances to enormous wrongs. It was well, well done. Of the miller and his daughter, I can hardly express how much their reconciliation moved me. That was large and empowering. And yet, Trollope also can make forgiveness of small wrongs, such as between the Vicar and the Marquis a matter of thought and marvelous wonder. Just beautiful.
Trollope’s down-to-earth wisdom and love for mankind speak more of true Christianity than many a tract or piece of religious literature meant to soften hearts could be. His pithy remarks always are to the point…meaning, perhaps, that he makes a point without preaching much more palatably and perfectly than most anyone else could do.
For the time period, this book treated of a totally tabooed subject, the all-but impossible regeneration of a “fallen” woman. Trollope considers this in a much more realistic fashion than did Gaskell in Ruth, although her book was wonderful. He doesn’t turn the woman into a repentant angel, rather he portrays her as a real person who has to come to grips with the reality of her life just as we all do, while the people she has hurt have to do likewise. Although many of my favorite lines below seem to imply that this book is largely religious and treats mostly of the woman, such is not the case. She is really only a small part of the general theme and as always, Trollope’s religion mainly comes out in the general feel of beneficence rather than preachiness. Case in point, the Miller Brattle.
Some of my favorite passages (and I have markers and notes everywhere):
“There is no curse upon the poor heavier than that which comes from the early breach of all ties of duty between fathers and their sons, and mothers and their daughters.” (43)
--
The two ministers, Mr. Puddleham & the Vicar (Mr. Fenwick) are speaking of the poor girl, Carry Brattle, who had been led into vice some years previous. Mr. Puddleham has used some harsh language and called her a prostitute.
“But I think you were a little wrong as to another statement.”
“What statement, Mr. Fenwick?”
“What you said about poor Carry Brattle. You don’t know it as a fact.”
“Everybody says so.”
“How do you know she has not married, and become an honest woman?”
“It is possible, of course. Though as for that,—when a young woman has once gone astray----“
“As did Mary Magdalene, for instance!”
“Mr. Fenwick, it was a very bad case.”
“And isn’t my case very bad, --and yours? Are we not in a bad way,--unless we believe and repent? Have we not all so sinned as to deserve eternal punishment?
“Certainly, Mr. Fenwick.”
“Then there can’t be much difference between her and us. She can’t deserve more than eternal punishment. If she believes and repents, all her sins will be white as snow.”
“Certainly, Mr. Fenwick.”
“Then speak of her as you would of any other sister or brother,--not as a thing that must always be vile because she has fallen once. Women will so speak,--and other men. One sees something of a reason for it. But you and I, as Christian ministers, should never allow ourselves to speak so thoughtlessly of sinners.” (113-114)
--
“The longer I live the more convinced I become that a man shouldn’t keep his own sores open.” (164)
--
“Is it that, then;--your own misfortune and not the girl’s sin that would harden your heart against your own child? You will let her perish in the streets, not because she has fallen, but because she has hurt you in her fall! Is that to be a father? Is that to be a man?” (174)
--
“Though he was fond of a fight he had taught himself to know that in no way could he do the business of his life more highly or more usefully than as a peacemaker.” (229)
--
“It is hard to say who makes the greatest mistakes, women who treat their own selves with too great a reverence, or they who do so with too little.” (241)
--
“What this woman had been saying to him was only what the world had said to her,--the world that knows so much better how to treat an erring sinner than did Our Savior when on earth.” (264)
--
“At last the whole matter resolved itself to this; --was it possible for her to divest her idea of life of all romance, and to look for contentment and satisfaction in the performance of duties to others?” (316)
--
“She was becoming sick of the importance to which she imputed to herself in thinking of herself.” (322)
--
“It is the lack of object, of all aim, in the lives of houseless wanderers that gives to them the most terrible element of their misery.” (336)
--
“…when you have a doubt as to your duty, you can’t be wrong in delaying that, the doing of which would gratify your own ill will.” (367)
--
“These and such like are the troubles that sit heavy on a man’s heart. If search for bread, and meat, and raiment, be set aside, then, beyond that, our happiness and misery here depends chiefly on success or failure in small things. Though a man when he turns into bed may be sure that he has unlimited thousands at his command, though all society be open to him, though he know himself to be esteemed handsome, clever, and fashionable, even though his digestion be good, and he have no doctor to deny him tobacco, champagne, or made dishes, still, if he be conscious of failure there where he has striven to succeed, even though it be in the humbling of an already humble adversary, he will stretch, and roll, and pine,--a wretched being. How happy is he who can get his fretting done for him by deputy!” (389)
--
“The truth is, that the possession of a grievance is the one state of human blessedness.” (398)
--
“If they only know’d what them as cares for ‘em ‘d has to bear, maybe they’d think a little.” (410) says the Miller about his wayward children.
--
“…if you ever come to have one foot bad o’ the gout, it won’t make you right to know that the other ain’t got it. Y’ll have the pain a gnawing of you from the bad food till you clean forget all the rest o’ your body.” (411) still the Miller speaking of his good children versus his bad ones—the good ones are hardly a comfort to him when he still has to endure the bad ones.
June 13, 2022
I love Trollope. He is so good at exploring the group dynamics of a society (although only a small mainly upper middle class section). I think he's especially good at smaller groups - a family, a few friends and showing how we misunderstand each other - our friends, our enemies, and ourselves. I don't think there's a better chronicler or our in-between states of mind (okay, okay, Shakespeare. Hamlet. I know!): indecision, drifting malaise, an unsureness about what our next steps should be—or would it be better to leave well enough alone? And then, when we've put ourselves wrong, his generosity and magnanimousness, his kindness is what you would hope from your best friends.
June 18, 2022
This was a terrific book to kick-off my summer reading. There's a lot going on here; a murder, a love story, the redemption of a woman of ill repute, feuding clergymen, and annoying aristocrats. Vicar Frank Fenwick is at the center of the action, aiding and defending his parishioners, managing numerous relationships, always trying to do the "right thing" but sometimes running headlong into the old "no good deed goes unpunished" wall. There are lots of heated discussions throughout. It is always fun to read how these articulate Victorian upper-class types argue with each other. I will confess that, being of humble origins, I take some vicarious pleasure in seeing some of these spoiled, entitled aristos get their comeuppance. A great one, I loved it. Cheers!
June 25, 2011
After reading The Way We Live Now and then this book, I don't know how I haven't read Anthony Trollope before now. He is great. This book has interesting characters, an intriguing story, and writing that is funny, poignant, and insightful.
June 21, 2015
I picked up 'The Vicar of Bullhampton' because I was looking for a Trollope that didn't centre around a will or a court case. I should have read the synopsis a little more carefully because there is a court case - one concerned with crime this time, not inheritance - but I didn't mind too much, because I found much to enjoy in the three entangling stories involving said vicar.
This isn't my favourite Trollope - and it's very nearly a curate's egg - but I did find a great deal to enjoy.
I wad very taken with the vicar - Frank Fenwick - who was a good and compassionate man, with a stubborn streak that stopped him being too perfect. I was equally taken with his wife, Janet, and I loved the relationship between the two of them. They had a real, believable genuinely happy marriage.
The first story is a classic Trollope love triangle, concerning the possible marriage of Mary Lowther, a childhood friend of the vicar's wife. The Fenwicks promoted a match with Harry Gilmore, a Bullhampton squire and an old friend of the vicar. He fell in love with her; Mary recognised that he was a good man, but knew that she did not him as a wife should love her husband. When Gilore proposed, she does not reject him outright, but she asked for time to consider. Because she knew that he was a good match, and that maybe she would never find her true love. Mary did find true love, with her second cousin, Captain Walter Marrable. But their circumstances meant that they were not in a position to marry, and that they maybe never would be.
My feelings about Mary changed over the course of the story. I worried at first that she would be another Alice Vavasor; when I realised that she wasn't I came to like her and feel a great deal of sympathy and empathy; sadly that didn't last. I'm afraid that Mary - as is often the way with people in love - became oblivious to the feelings of others. And it didn't help that her family story was a little too broad and the development of her true love a little difficult to believe.
It wasn't that it was bad, but I know that Trollope can do much, much better, and I enjoyed the other strands of the story more.
The second story is of the family of Bullhampton's miller, Jacob Brattle. His youngest son, Sam, had been a hard worker at the mill, but when he fell in with bad company his standards slipped and he was absent far too often. When a Bullhampton farmer was murdered in the course of a burglary suspicion fell of Sam's associates, and it was known that he had been with them. The vicar had known Sam since he was a young boy, he believed him when he said that he was innocent, and he did his best to help.
He also tried to reconcile the miller with his daughter Carry. She had been seduced by a soldier, she had been thrown out by her appalled father, and since then she had been living as a 'fallen woman'. This being a Victorian novel Trollope did not address the question of how she survived as a woman alone, but his meaning was clear. Her situation was complicated by her involvement with one of her brother's associates; but that might also be the key to saving her brother and reuniting her with her father ....
I loved the twists and turns of this story, and I loved the very real emotions and reactions of different family members. But what made this book exceptional was the portrayal of the 'fallen woman'. She wasn't repentant and striving to be virtuous, she wasn't defiant and falling further, she was simply a young woman struggling to come to terms with the consequences of what had happened and the harsh realities of this situation.
This is what I love about Trollope. He's utterly conventional, writing about the natural roles for women being marriage and motherhood, but on the other hand he clearly hoped for a society that had understanding and compassion for those who struggled to reach those goals.
This books illuminates those different sides of Trollope better than any of the others I have read.
I couldn't completely believe the way the story of the Brattle family played out, but it felt right - emotionally and psychologically - and I wanted to believe it.
The third story concerned the Marquis of Trowbridge, Bullhampton's principal landowner. He was so appalled when the vicar took up Sam and Carry Brattle's causes, that he gives the Methodist minister, Mr Puddleham, a plot of land on which to build a new chapel - a plot of land right opposite the vicarage gates. The Fenwicks were aghast as a red brick edifice grew higher and higher, but they had no idea what they could do about it. Until Mrs. Fenwick's brother-in-law, a brilliant London barrister, looked into things ....
This story balanced the others beautifully, with a well judged mixture of drama and comedy.
Indeed the balance was what struck me about the whole book: three stories different in tone and content, considering many aspects of the human condition, considering many sides of society, And yet they sat quite naturally together, speaking, profoundly and movingly, about forgiveness, about acceptance, and about reconciliation.
I found much to love. Wonderful, real, believable human characters and relationships; lovely letters, reported by an author telling the tale in his own inimitable style; and a large village - or maybe a small town - in the Wiltshire countryside.
And in the end the strength of the whole allowed me to let go of the weaknesses of some of the parts.
This isn't my favourite Trollope - and it's very nearly a curate's egg - but I did find a great deal to enjoy.
I wad very taken with the vicar - Frank Fenwick - who was a good and compassionate man, with a stubborn streak that stopped him being too perfect. I was equally taken with his wife, Janet, and I loved the relationship between the two of them. They had a real, believable genuinely happy marriage.
The first story is a classic Trollope love triangle, concerning the possible marriage of Mary Lowther, a childhood friend of the vicar's wife. The Fenwicks promoted a match with Harry Gilmore, a Bullhampton squire and an old friend of the vicar. He fell in love with her; Mary recognised that he was a good man, but knew that she did not him as a wife should love her husband. When Gilore proposed, she does not reject him outright, but she asked for time to consider. Because she knew that he was a good match, and that maybe she would never find her true love. Mary did find true love, with her second cousin, Captain Walter Marrable. But their circumstances meant that they were not in a position to marry, and that they maybe never would be.
My feelings about Mary changed over the course of the story. I worried at first that she would be another Alice Vavasor; when I realised that she wasn't I came to like her and feel a great deal of sympathy and empathy; sadly that didn't last. I'm afraid that Mary - as is often the way with people in love - became oblivious to the feelings of others. And it didn't help that her family story was a little too broad and the development of her true love a little difficult to believe.
It wasn't that it was bad, but I know that Trollope can do much, much better, and I enjoyed the other strands of the story more.
The second story is of the family of Bullhampton's miller, Jacob Brattle. His youngest son, Sam, had been a hard worker at the mill, but when he fell in with bad company his standards slipped and he was absent far too often. When a Bullhampton farmer was murdered in the course of a burglary suspicion fell of Sam's associates, and it was known that he had been with them. The vicar had known Sam since he was a young boy, he believed him when he said that he was innocent, and he did his best to help.
He also tried to reconcile the miller with his daughter Carry. She had been seduced by a soldier, she had been thrown out by her appalled father, and since then she had been living as a 'fallen woman'. This being a Victorian novel Trollope did not address the question of how she survived as a woman alone, but his meaning was clear. Her situation was complicated by her involvement with one of her brother's associates; but that might also be the key to saving her brother and reuniting her with her father ....
I loved the twists and turns of this story, and I loved the very real emotions and reactions of different family members. But what made this book exceptional was the portrayal of the 'fallen woman'. She wasn't repentant and striving to be virtuous, she wasn't defiant and falling further, she was simply a young woman struggling to come to terms with the consequences of what had happened and the harsh realities of this situation.
This is what I love about Trollope. He's utterly conventional, writing about the natural roles for women being marriage and motherhood, but on the other hand he clearly hoped for a society that had understanding and compassion for those who struggled to reach those goals.
This books illuminates those different sides of Trollope better than any of the others I have read.
I couldn't completely believe the way the story of the Brattle family played out, but it felt right - emotionally and psychologically - and I wanted to believe it.
The third story concerned the Marquis of Trowbridge, Bullhampton's principal landowner. He was so appalled when the vicar took up Sam and Carry Brattle's causes, that he gives the Methodist minister, Mr Puddleham, a plot of land on which to build a new chapel - a plot of land right opposite the vicarage gates. The Fenwicks were aghast as a red brick edifice grew higher and higher, but they had no idea what they could do about it. Until Mrs. Fenwick's brother-in-law, a brilliant London barrister, looked into things ....
This story balanced the others beautifully, with a well judged mixture of drama and comedy.
Indeed the balance was what struck me about the whole book: three stories different in tone and content, considering many aspects of the human condition, considering many sides of society, And yet they sat quite naturally together, speaking, profoundly and movingly, about forgiveness, about acceptance, and about reconciliation.
I found much to love. Wonderful, real, believable human characters and relationships; lovely letters, reported by an author telling the tale in his own inimitable style; and a large village - or maybe a small town - in the Wiltshire countryside.
And in the end the strength of the whole allowed me to let go of the weaknesses of some of the parts.
September 30, 2018
Will she or won't she marry Harry? That's the burning question behind the love story involving Mary Lowther, who is torn between two suitors representing her head and her heart. (I love the way Trollope describes one of them as having thick black curls, already beginning to thin on top -- so that the reader knows he isn't perfect, either). Then there's another subplot involving the miller's daughter Caroline, who was once "a good girl" but fell from grace in a veiled reference to her short-lived career as a prostitute. Finally, there's the Vicar himself, a kind and devout soul who nevertheless allows his anger to get the better of him in a boiling conflict with a local nobleman. Trollope creates complex, believable characters driven by human emotions in this 1870 novel.
May 18, 2020
Since discovering Trollope , I’ve been trying to get through all his novels . This one was not one of my favorites but I still continue to love his writing style . I truly did not like Mary but hey we can’t all fall in love with our characters in a story . These classics are always an enjoyable read.
March 11, 2019
Trollope does a great job of balancing his plot lines and keeping our interest in his characters. Here we have a matchmaking couple who misjudge a situation, a miller and his family who brush up against immorality and crime, and a skirmish between Anglican and low church.
July 24, 2022
I place The Vicar of Bullhampton a close second to The Eustace Diamonds as far as my enjoyment of Trollope novels go, having read several. It was published in 1870, 21 years before Thomas Hardy's treatment of the subject in Tess of the D'Urbervilles - the actual vs. deserved fate of a fallen woman.
Trollope took the moral stance that society is wrong in its treatment of such women, as Hardy did later. For some reason, the popular outcry to these writers' opinions was quite different. Trollope escaped without much venom, while Hardy had to endure plenty, including that which aggravated a schism in his marriage. There are several interesting plot lines. Carry Brattle, the neighborhood miller's daughter ran off with a man and is tainted. Her father gives the man a tremendous thrashing, but lives in constant shame. His son Sam is wanted in connection with the murder of a nearby farmer. People had already predicted that Sam would go to the dogs because of the way Frank Fenwick, the otherwise respectable Vicar of Bullhampton, made him a favorite during Sam's teenage years and spoiled him:
"A gentleman's favorite in a country village, when of Sam Brattle's age, is very apt to be spoiled by the kindness that is shown to him."
Really ? I finished the novel still grasping for how that works.
The young Mary Lowther comes to Bullhampton to stay with the Vicar and his wife, and falls in love with her cousin there, Captain Walter Marrable. Walter has been literally cheated out of an inheritance by his father, and it appears he will need to rejoin the military in India to make marriage possible financially. However Frank and Mrs Fenwick believe that she has a much better matrimonial opportunity in their great friend Squire Harry Gilmore. Indeed, when they bring the two young people together, Harry is smitten.
The final major thread in the novel concerns the actions of the despicable Marquis of Trowbridge, owner of most of the land in the county, as he seeks to inconvenience and discredit Frank, most visibly by having a large competing church built across the lane from his parsonage.
For the most part, the novel was compelling and believable, and I was made to care moderately strongly for its characters. However, I was surprised that a man of the Vicar's experience exhibited a naive belief in how love works, in commenting that the Squire should certainly be in control of his own heart:
" ... Gilmore's trouble had not fallen upon him from the hands of Providence. He had set his heart upon the gaining of a thing, and was now absolutely broken-hearted because he could not have it. And the thing was a woman. Fenwick admitted to himself that the thing itself was the most worthy for which a man can struggle; but would not admit that even in his search for that a man should allow his heart to give way, or his strength to be broken down."
Oh really ? Is that how love works ?
But there was plenty of wonderful writing. Here are some of my favorite passages from Trollope in The Vicar of Bullhampton:
"There is something mean to a man in the want of success in love. If a man lose a venture of money he can tell his friend; or if he be unsuccessful in trying for a seat in parliament; or be thrown out of a run in the hunting field; or even blackballed for a club; but a man can hardly bring himself to tell his dearest comrade that his Mary has preferred another man to himself."
There is a tremendous scene when Harry's uncle disparages Mary and tells him he's overreacting when he learns that Harry's despondent over her. Harry snaps back in absolute honesty:
"By God, ... I'd give every acre I have in the world, and every shilling, and every friend, and twenty years of my life, if I could only be allowed at this moment to think it possible that she would ever marry me."
I love his description of the beaten down version of the fallen woman, Carry Brattle, and the remnants of her former beauty:
"She was a poor, sickly-looking thing now, but there were the remains of great beauty in the face - or rather, the presence of beauty, but of beauty obscured by flushes of riotous living and periods of want, by ill-health, harsh usage, and, worst of all, by the sharp agonies of an intermittent conscience. It was a pale, gentle face, on which there were still streaks of pink, - a soft, laughing face it had been once, and still there was a gleam of light in the eyes that told of past merriment, and almost promised mirth to come, if only some great evil might be cured. Her long flaxen curls still hung down her face, but they were larger, and, as Fenwick thought, more tawdry than of yore; and her cheeks were thin, and her eyes were hollow; and then there had come across her mouth that look of boldness which the use of bad, sharp words, half-wicked and half-witty, will always give ... And yet, though vice had laid its heavy hand upon her, the glory and the brightness, and the sweet outward flavor of innocence, had not altogether departed from her. Though her mouth was bold, her eyes were soft and womanly, and she looked up into the face of the clergyman with a gentle, tamed, beseeching gaze ..."
And another instance of the classic dilemma of the 19th century Englishwoman:
"Poor Edith was subject to a feeling that everybody knew that she was expected to fall in love with the man."
Certainly many, if not most novels of the era owe their popularity to spinning yarns of thwarted and renewed love among the assembled players, but I haven't read another in which so many twists and turns take place in ONE courtship.
Trollope took the moral stance that society is wrong in its treatment of such women, as Hardy did later. For some reason, the popular outcry to these writers' opinions was quite different. Trollope escaped without much venom, while Hardy had to endure plenty, including that which aggravated a schism in his marriage. There are several interesting plot lines. Carry Brattle, the neighborhood miller's daughter ran off with a man and is tainted. Her father gives the man a tremendous thrashing, but lives in constant shame. His son Sam is wanted in connection with the murder of a nearby farmer. People had already predicted that Sam would go to the dogs because of the way Frank Fenwick, the otherwise respectable Vicar of Bullhampton, made him a favorite during Sam's teenage years and spoiled him:
"A gentleman's favorite in a country village, when of Sam Brattle's age, is very apt to be spoiled by the kindness that is shown to him."
Really ? I finished the novel still grasping for how that works.
The young Mary Lowther comes to Bullhampton to stay with the Vicar and his wife, and falls in love with her cousin there, Captain Walter Marrable. Walter has been literally cheated out of an inheritance by his father, and it appears he will need to rejoin the military in India to make marriage possible financially. However Frank and Mrs Fenwick believe that she has a much better matrimonial opportunity in their great friend Squire Harry Gilmore. Indeed, when they bring the two young people together, Harry is smitten.
The final major thread in the novel concerns the actions of the despicable Marquis of Trowbridge, owner of most of the land in the county, as he seeks to inconvenience and discredit Frank, most visibly by having a large competing church built across the lane from his parsonage.
For the most part, the novel was compelling and believable, and I was made to care moderately strongly for its characters. However, I was surprised that a man of the Vicar's experience exhibited a naive belief in how love works, in commenting that the Squire should certainly be in control of his own heart:
" ... Gilmore's trouble had not fallen upon him from the hands of Providence. He had set his heart upon the gaining of a thing, and was now absolutely broken-hearted because he could not have it. And the thing was a woman. Fenwick admitted to himself that the thing itself was the most worthy for which a man can struggle; but would not admit that even in his search for that a man should allow his heart to give way, or his strength to be broken down."
Oh really ? Is that how love works ?
But there was plenty of wonderful writing. Here are some of my favorite passages from Trollope in The Vicar of Bullhampton:
"There is something mean to a man in the want of success in love. If a man lose a venture of money he can tell his friend; or if he be unsuccessful in trying for a seat in parliament; or be thrown out of a run in the hunting field; or even blackballed for a club; but a man can hardly bring himself to tell his dearest comrade that his Mary has preferred another man to himself."
There is a tremendous scene when Harry's uncle disparages Mary and tells him he's overreacting when he learns that Harry's despondent over her. Harry snaps back in absolute honesty:
"By God, ... I'd give every acre I have in the world, and every shilling, and every friend, and twenty years of my life, if I could only be allowed at this moment to think it possible that she would ever marry me."
I love his description of the beaten down version of the fallen woman, Carry Brattle, and the remnants of her former beauty:
"She was a poor, sickly-looking thing now, but there were the remains of great beauty in the face - or rather, the presence of beauty, but of beauty obscured by flushes of riotous living and periods of want, by ill-health, harsh usage, and, worst of all, by the sharp agonies of an intermittent conscience. It was a pale, gentle face, on which there were still streaks of pink, - a soft, laughing face it had been once, and still there was a gleam of light in the eyes that told of past merriment, and almost promised mirth to come, if only some great evil might be cured. Her long flaxen curls still hung down her face, but they were larger, and, as Fenwick thought, more tawdry than of yore; and her cheeks were thin, and her eyes were hollow; and then there had come across her mouth that look of boldness which the use of bad, sharp words, half-wicked and half-witty, will always give ... And yet, though vice had laid its heavy hand upon her, the glory and the brightness, and the sweet outward flavor of innocence, had not altogether departed from her. Though her mouth was bold, her eyes were soft and womanly, and she looked up into the face of the clergyman with a gentle, tamed, beseeching gaze ..."
And another instance of the classic dilemma of the 19th century Englishwoman:
"Poor Edith was subject to a feeling that everybody knew that she was expected to fall in love with the man."
Certainly many, if not most novels of the era owe their popularity to spinning yarns of thwarted and renewed love among the assembled players, but I haven't read another in which so many twists and turns take place in ONE courtship.
September 12, 2013
How I love the novels of Anthony Trollope. This novel comes right after He Knew He Was Right, his sprawling, magnificent study of obsession and jealousy, and the short, melancholy Sir Harry Hotspur of Humblethwaite. This book falls just between them in ambition and scope.
One of the great joys of reading many books by an author (this is my 27th Trollope!) is watching how he plays with the same theme to different effects. One of the staples of the Trollope novel is the long-suffering heroine who either can't have the man she loves or is being pushed into loving a man she can't love. Mary Lowther is a fascinating variation on this heroine and the variations make her infinitely more appealing than the insufferable Lily Dale of the Barset novel.
Class distinctions are dealt with more explicitly here than in other novels, but never with the sledgehammer that Dickens attacks this subject with.
The title hero is one of Trollope's most ingratiating creations and the multiple plots are brought to supremely satisfying conclusions.
How I love the novels of Anthony Trollope!
One of the great joys of reading many books by an author (this is my 27th Trollope!) is watching how he plays with the same theme to different effects. One of the staples of the Trollope novel is the long-suffering heroine who either can't have the man she loves or is being pushed into loving a man she can't love. Mary Lowther is a fascinating variation on this heroine and the variations make her infinitely more appealing than the insufferable Lily Dale of the Barset novel.
Class distinctions are dealt with more explicitly here than in other novels, but never with the sledgehammer that Dickens attacks this subject with.
The title hero is one of Trollope's most ingratiating creations and the multiple plots are brought to supremely satisfying conclusions.
How I love the novels of Anthony Trollope!
December 2, 2009
Anthony Trollope is an amazing writer. His work is as fresh today as it was when it was first published in 1870.
The Church of England vicar of Bullhampton has his hands full with a murder and a young woman who is seen to have "lost her virtue" over a miscalculation due to her innocence. This last incident is one of very few that dates this work and reminds us of how far we have come, ironically, both in tolerance and in loss of moral standards.
Vicar Fenwick also has a woman in his parish who is prepared to marry a man she does not love and, if that weren't enough, he has a Baptist congregation ready to build a church at his garden gate.
Through it all, Vicar Frank Fenwick works hard to be true to his faith, his congregation and the people of his parish. He is generous and sincere in helping people both psychologically and financially without being maudlin. This is not a "preachy" book. Fenwick is a likable man who has initial doubts about himself and his handling of situations, and he does not flaunt his good character.
While Fenwick can seem naive, he leads his flock well and is a shining example of what we should all strive to be in kindness, consideration and forgiveness of others. Ultimately, he has faith in himself and confidence in his decisions once they are formulated. He optimistically believes in people's better natures and is found to be justified most of the time.
The expressions used in the book often are not dated. For example, a character has an idea and is "hot about it." Another character announces you could "go farther and do worse."
Trollops's book reminds me of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen. For all of it's story threads, it is tightly woven and maintains its interest.
Quote: " But then sins committed against oneself are so much more sinful than any other sins."
The Church of England vicar of Bullhampton has his hands full with a murder and a young woman who is seen to have "lost her virtue" over a miscalculation due to her innocence. This last incident is one of very few that dates this work and reminds us of how far we have come, ironically, both in tolerance and in loss of moral standards.
Vicar Fenwick also has a woman in his parish who is prepared to marry a man she does not love and, if that weren't enough, he has a Baptist congregation ready to build a church at his garden gate.
Through it all, Vicar Frank Fenwick works hard to be true to his faith, his congregation and the people of his parish. He is generous and sincere in helping people both psychologically and financially without being maudlin. This is not a "preachy" book. Fenwick is a likable man who has initial doubts about himself and his handling of situations, and he does not flaunt his good character.
While Fenwick can seem naive, he leads his flock well and is a shining example of what we should all strive to be in kindness, consideration and forgiveness of others. Ultimately, he has faith in himself and confidence in his decisions once they are formulated. He optimistically believes in people's better natures and is found to be justified most of the time.
The expressions used in the book often are not dated. For example, a character has an idea and is "hot about it." Another character announces you could "go farther and do worse."
Trollops's book reminds me of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen. For all of it's story threads, it is tightly woven and maintains its interest.
Quote: " But then sins committed against oneself are so much more sinful than any other sins."
March 29, 2007
Not many nineteenth-century novels contain sympathetic portrayals of prostitutes, but this one does. The vicar's defense of Carry Brattle, the fallen daughter of a miller, is only one of several plot strands in this novel.
I think this is one of Trollope's best, but you don't find a lot of people who have read it. Perhaps because it's a bit dark. And I think that is probably why it's not one of the ones that pops into my head when I'm asked for Trollope recommendations. But no Trollope novel lacks completely for comedy, and this has its share. In particular, I love the revenge attempted by the land-owning marquis for the vicar's failure to bend to the marquis's will: the marquis gives the plot he owns next to the vicar's house to -- Methodists!, so that they can build a church there.
I think this is one of Trollope's best, but you don't find a lot of people who have read it. Perhaps because it's a bit dark. And I think that is probably why it's not one of the ones that pops into my head when I'm asked for Trollope recommendations. But no Trollope novel lacks completely for comedy, and this has its share. In particular, I love the revenge attempted by the land-owning marquis for the vicar's failure to bend to the marquis's will: the marquis gives the plot he owns next to the vicar's house to -- Methodists!, so that they can build a church there.
December 28, 2016
An interesting story that combines a murder trial, the rescue of a fallen woman, a rivalry between the established church and the dissenting Methodists, and a typical love story in which the groom is not rich enough to support the woman he loves. The first three plots are interesting; the love story is too typical and has been done too many times, especially by Trollope. I liked the novel, but I would have preferred something a little less typical in the love story. I appreciated the fact that the vicar experiences misunderstanding and character assassination because of his desire to show Christian charity toward a woman who has sunk into a life of prostitution. I also appreciated Trollope's desire to treat most of his characters fairly, without caricaturing them.
August 22, 2011
Very enjoyable. Lots of interesting characters, although I ran out of patience with Squire Gilmor's suffering. Mary's plight is quite striking in the classic Victorian-girls-must-be-married sense. The Vicar is another one of Trollope's delightful clergymen, whose feud with the Marquis supplies the heat and the humor. Trollope's depiction of the Methodist minister shows his typical disdain for dissenters. One of my favorites.
July 5, 2019
I loved this book! It's so good to be back into Trollope. The vicar, Mr. Fenwick, of the title is the thread that runs through all the various story lines: the love of Mr. Gilmore and Mary, the plight of Carry, the murder of Mr. Trumbull, the lives of the miller Brattle and Sam, the Marquis and the chapel, and the family of Walter Marrable. I also appreciate how Trollope, like Dickens, ties all the loose ends together at the conclusion of the novel.
February 8, 2018
There are three main characters in this novel: Mr. Fenwick (the vicar), Mary Lowther (a single woman who must choose between suitors), and Caroline Brattle (a fallen woman). Septimus Harding (in Trollope's The Warden) is one my favorite literary characters and I was hoping this vicar might measure up to him in some way. Fenwick is an appealing character because of his earnestness in avoiding village quarrels and in his desire to help Caroline leave her past behind. But he is much more of a hot-head than dear Septimus.
I love Trollope and am willing to wade through a LOT of wordy prose to find his humorous quips. But this book was more of a slog than usual. After 400 pages I skimmed to the end.
I enjoyed this quote near the beginning of the book about Miss Marrable's tastes in reading: "Pretty as she was, and small, and nice, and lady-like, she liked her literature rather strong."
I love Trollope and am willing to wade through a LOT of wordy prose to find his humorous quips. But this book was more of a slog than usual. After 400 pages I skimmed to the end.
I enjoyed this quote near the beginning of the book about Miss Marrable's tastes in reading: "Pretty as she was, and small, and nice, and lady-like, she liked her literature rather strong."
February 17, 2025
3.5* rounded up. Mary Lowther refuses to marry Frank Gilmore because she does not love him and then almost immediately meets, falls in love with and becomes engaged to her cousin Walter. This engagement has to be broken off when Walter's father leaves him penniless. Broken-hearted, Mary agrees to marry Frank, reasoning that this will make him happy, but she does so explaining clearly to him that she can never love him. Readers of Trollope's other novels will realize that this is a big no-no.
There is a second story concerning the murder of a farmer for which Sam Brattle, the miller's son, comes under suspicion. Sam has a sister, Carry, who is described in the blurb on the back of my edition as "a prostitute" although (and it is hard to be sure as Trollope is forced to tread lightly here) it seems to me that she has merely slept with men who promised to marry her and then abandoned her. Trollope is very good here at examining the reactions of various members of the community to her. Carry is universally condemned (and the men who promised to marry her are punished only by her family) as evil and untouchable, even as the (Christian) community pays lip-service to the concepts of forgiveness, all sins being equivalent and above all redemption. Even Fenwick, the vicar, whose attitude is most truly Christian and who presumably speaks for Trollope here, feels that a reform home would be the best place for her if her family will not take her back and seems doubtful that Carry will be happy with a normal humdrum life (after the "excitement" of sex outside marriage).
The story of the dissenting chapel built outside the vicarage gates was entertaining and I liked Mary and sympathized with her decisions. Frank Gilmore's character was very thin and his attitude to Mary disturbing and (to quote Fenwick) "unmanly". The Fenwicks' and her aunt's interference in Mary's affairs was appalling, and I wished that they had repented for the trouble they caused more heartily. I found the Fenwicks a bit smug and pleased with themselves and the Brattles in general deeply annoying. I think Trollope wanted us to admire the miller, but he was obnoxious and ignorant (although he did take Carry back, even if her sin was "always before him").
There is a second story concerning the murder of a farmer for which Sam Brattle, the miller's son, comes under suspicion. Sam has a sister, Carry, who is described in the blurb on the back of my edition as "a prostitute" although (and it is hard to be sure as Trollope is forced to tread lightly here) it seems to me that she has merely slept with men who promised to marry her and then abandoned her. Trollope is very good here at examining the reactions of various members of the community to her. Carry is universally condemned (and the men who promised to marry her are punished only by her family) as evil and untouchable, even as the (Christian) community pays lip-service to the concepts of forgiveness, all sins being equivalent and above all redemption. Even Fenwick, the vicar, whose attitude is most truly Christian and who presumably speaks for Trollope here, feels that a reform home would be the best place for her if her family will not take her back and seems doubtful that Carry will be happy with a normal humdrum life (after the "excitement" of sex outside marriage).
The story of the dissenting chapel built outside the vicarage gates was entertaining and I liked Mary and sympathized with her decisions. Frank Gilmore's character was very thin and his attitude to Mary disturbing and (to quote Fenwick) "unmanly". The Fenwicks' and her aunt's interference in Mary's affairs was appalling, and I wished that they had repented for the trouble they caused more heartily. I found the Fenwicks a bit smug and pleased with themselves and the Brattles in general deeply annoying. I think Trollope wanted us to admire the miller, but he was obnoxious and ignorant (although he did take Carry back, even if her sin was "always before him").
July 27, 2013
This is not one of Trollope's better known novels, and, not knowing anything about it, it came as a delightful surprise. Trollope created some very real, warm, living and breathing characters in the Brattle family, and in the Vicar and his good wife. I could have wished for much more moxie from the supposed heroine, Mary, and I found her story to be only mildly interesting, but indeed the Vicar, Francis Fenwick, is the true central character of the book, and one likes him all the better for his openly revealed and acknowledged errors and flaws, knowing that his faith and his love for his parishioners are genuine. The Vicar has a marvelous sense of humor, tending toward sarcasm, which does for a time land him in hot water, and he also is fascinating as Trollope's feminist mouthpiece. The "fallen" Carry Brattle was young and impetuous, and certainly had poor taste in men, but the Vicar defended her against those who somehow wanted to make her sin to be far worse than anyone else's -- declaring (against the backdrop of a murder and murder trial!) that the harm was only to herself, and that forgiveness and redemption are most assuredly available to her, if they are to anyone. Our Vicar makes plain his belief that a young woman who is seduced by a sweetheart's words is not a harlot, and should not be called one. If she is cast out and forced to live that life because she has made a mistake in judgment, then that is the fault of her family and community. Of course, Trollope has shown us in other novels the hypocrisy that an affair is forgiven or even celebrated by Society if the woman in question is already married and has position and money. He is compassionate in showing that the only shame that Carry's father lives under is that of his own perception, and then he closes the novel by stating that Carry and her dutiful sister Fanny are doomed to remain single, without their own homes and families -- Carry because she is too pretty, and Fanny because she is too plain.
For all of his missteps and sometimes misguided enthusiasms, the Vicar does real work of healing among the Brattles simply by being trusting and loving, and this is a fine old lesson for us all.
For all of his missteps and sometimes misguided enthusiasms, the Vicar does real work of healing among the Brattles simply by being trusting and loving, and this is a fine old lesson for us all.
February 24, 2025
Another enjoyable Trollope read, this one is a bit of an upstairs-downstairs novel with Mary Lowther providing the former as she visits her friends Janet Fenwick and her husband Frank, the Vicar of Bullhampton. Mary is courted by their neighbour Harry, and her history forms a principal part of the novel. Downstairs, there is the Brattle family, who's son Sam becomes embroiled in a local crime, and who's daughter Carry is not all that she ought to be, and their story, which comes to involve the Vicar and the justice system, thickens the plot. Finally, Frank Fenwick himself becomes somewhat entangled in church and village politics when he angers the Marquis who owns much of the village and who then decides to enact his revenge in a most annoying manner.
This isn't one of Trollope's masterpieces, but I enjoyed it very much nonetheless.
This isn't one of Trollope's masterpieces, but I enjoyed it very much nonetheless.
May 27, 2013
As Vicar, Mr. Fenwick has much to deal with... Mary and her 'loves', young Sam who is in much trouble, Carry who eventually returns home, an entire church built on Glebe Land which belongs to his vicarage, the hard miller Brattle, a murder, court proceedings, and broken-hearted Gilmore...
A rather exciting tale with trilling little events on every page, and through all its characters and situations depicting the importance of forgiveness and peace of mind...
A rather exciting tale with trilling little events on every page, and through all its characters and situations depicting the importance of forgiveness and peace of mind...
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