The Warden (Barnes & Noble Library of Essential Reading)

By Anthony Trollope and Lynette Felber

The first book of the Barsetshire series, The Warden, finds the Reverend Septimus Harding accused of financial misconduct with his reputation besmirched. This false accusation is used by Trollope to satirize both the religious establishment and the narrow-minded locals. With his deft hand for characterization, the author reveals both the hypocrisy and integrity inherent in the common man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barnes & Noble
• Release date: Sep 1, 2009
• ISBN: 9781411429802

Anthony Trollope

<p><b>Anthony Trollope</b> nació en Londres en 1815, hijo de un abogado en bancarrota y de Frances Trollope, que, tras fracasar montando un bazar en Cincinatti, escribió <i>Usos y costumbres de los americanos</i> (ALBA CLÁSICA núm. XLVIII), con la que inició una carrera literaria que le reportó fama y prosperidad económica. Anthony se educó en Harrow, Sunbury y Winchester, donde se sintió a disgusto entre los miembros de la aristocracia, y nunca llegó a la Universidad. En 1824 empezó a trabajar en el servicio de correos, donde permanecería hasta 1867. Tras siete años en Londres fue trasladado a Irlanda, y de ahí a nuevos destinos por el Reino Unido, Egipto y las Indias Occidentales.</p> <p>En 1847 publicó su primera novela, <i>The Macdermots of Ballycloran</i>, y en 1855 <i>El custodio</i>, la primera del ciclo ambientado en la mítica ciudad de Barchester (trasunto de Winchester) y en las intrigas políticas de su clero. Este ciclo lo consolidó como autor realista y le dio una gran popularidad. En 1864 inició con <i>Can You Forgive Her?</i> otro ciclo, el de las novelas de Palliser, en el que retrataría los entresijos de la vida política y matrimonial de los parlamentarios londinenses. En 1868 él mismo se presentó como candidato liberal a las elecciones, pero no fue elegido. Entre sus últimas obras cabe destacar <i>The Way We Live Now</i> (1875), una gran sátira del capitalismo. Murió en Londres en 1882.</p>

Book preview

INTRODUCTION TO THE NEW EDITION

THE Warden (1855) is a comic satire that tells the story of Reverend Septimus Harding, a man of scrupulous integrity who is accused of financial impropriety. The first book in Anthony Trollope’s popular Barsetshire series, The Warden is based on an actual case of financial profiteering, but Trollope is less interested in the reform of clerical endowments than in the moral dilemma the situation presents. The novel contains recognizable caricatures of his Victorian contemporaries, Thomas Carlyle and Charles Dickens, but its central appeal, as in all of Trollope’s novels, is his engaging, lifelike, complex characters. Although he had published three novels previously, Trollope claimed that after publication of The Warden, people around me knew that I had written a book.¹ Trollope’s reputation and popularity remain strong today: most of his forty-seven novels are still in print, and in the twentieth century, The Warden and several other perennial favorites—Barchester Towers, He Knew He Was Right, The Way We Live Now, and the Palliser series—were adapted for British television and film.

One of the most prolific writers of the Victorian era, Anthony Trollope (1815-82) did not begin his career as a novelist until he was in his thirties. His mother, Fanny Trollope, was a professional writer best known for Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832), one of the most popular and controversial travel books of the era. Her son became even more famous and was incredibly productive; in addition to his novels, most of them multivolume triple-deckers, he also wrote sketches, short stories, travel books, and biographies of classical figures. To produce this tremendous volume of work, he set himself a daily schedule of writing, including the time he spent traveling on business by train and ship, even when he was seasick. This literary output is even more astounding since writing was Trollope’s second job. He worked thirty-three years for the Post Office, first as a clerk and subsequently as an inspector; he is credited with introducing the pillar mailbox. His thirty-eight-year marriage to Rose Heseltine was happy, harmonious, and uneventful—except for producing two sons. In middle age he developed a friendship with a young American woman, Kate Field. Her feminism may have influenced his creation of several outspoken and independent women characters, but Trollope’s relationship with Field apparently resulted in nothing more intimate than a spirited correspondence. He also took a strong interest in politics, evident not only in the central role politicians play in many of his novels but also in his unsuccessful run for Parliament in 1868, when he was defeated in the borough of Beverley in an election characterized by voting corruption and bribery.

The idea for this novel, centered on a circle of small-town clergymen, came to Trollope during a visit to Salisbury whilst wandering . . . on a mid-summer evening round the purlieus of the cathedral.² Reverend Septimus Harding is the warden of Hiram’s Hospital, a charitable residence for impoverished, retired workingmen. Timid but conscientious, Harding has served as a loving steward to the residents, administering to their spiritual needs and providing them with an allowance out of his own pocket. Harding is first astounded and then devastated to learn that the public believes he is profiting by accepting the generous salary that has accrued from the funds left to the almshouse by John Hiram in 1434. The scandal even affects Harding’s once-loyal almsmen, whose greed is fuelled by the delusion that they will receive the income if the warden gives up his post. Plagued by gossip and the town’s crusading journalist, Harding ultimately finds serenity in his decision to resign. The novel’s subplot supplies a love interest: Harding’s younger daughter Eleanor in an ironic twist is courted by John Bold, who heads the movement to remove her father from his position. Moreover, Bold is depicted as a man who suffers from a lack of faith in his fellow men—a reformer who does not believe in the honesty of others. Harding is defended by Archdeacon Grantly, a higher-ranking clergyman and his elder daughter’s husband, who is more concerned with his father-in-law’s loss of status and income than the moral issue involved.

Some of the novel’s sharpest barbs are directed at those who exploit social criticism for their own gain. Trollope attacks the kind of opportunistic journalism that sensationalizes Harding’s financial situation through his comic depictions of the fictional journalist Tom Towers and his newspaper, the Jupiter, which publishes articles attacking the Reverend. Through thinly veiled portraits of Carlyle (Dr. Pessimist Anticant) and Dickens (Mr. Popular Sentiment), Trollope satirizes major figures of his day. He imitates the overwrought, highly rhetorical style of the eminent social philosopher in the fictional essay by Anticant included in the novel. The Warden not only contains satires of Trollope’s contemporaries but is also forward-looking as it engages in metafiction, literature that suspends disbelief and acknowledges to the reader that it is in fact fiction. Trollope thus pokes fun at Dickens the social critic as his fictional Mr. Sentiment publishes a new novel—which strikingly resembles The Warden—in installment form. Sentiment’s novel the Almshouse provides a direct attack on the whole system. And, as the narrator points out, It ’s very well done, as you’ll see. His first numbers always are. These caricatures of contemporaries were considered in bad taste by some of Trollope’s critics because both Carlyle and Dickens were still living.³

Like his fellow novelist Dickens, Trollope gives his characters comic and suggestive names such as the lawyer, Sir Abraham Haphazard; the fecund minister, Mr. Quiverful (father of fourteen children); or the retired workingman, Abel Handy. His Septimus Harding is characterized through a signature, that is, one telling, distinctive trait: his habit of playing an invisible violincello when preoccupied. Yet while Trollope’s characters are often comic, they are rarely caricatures. In contrast to Dickens, who has often been criticized for his saccharine female characters, Trollope is known for the creation of memorable women such as the spirited, indiscreet political wife Lady Glencora (from the Palliser series) or the enchanting, crippled La Signora Madeline Vesey Neroni (of Barchester Towers), who manipulates her admirers while reclining on her sofa. Trollope himself found the characters he created so real that he was constantly preoccupied with their fates: So much of my inner life was passed in their company, that I was continually asking myself how this woman would act when this or that event had passed over her head, or how that man would carry himself when his youth had become manhood, or his manhood declined to old age.⁴

The American novelist Nathaniel Hawthorne praised Trollope’s novels for their national character: just as English as a beef-steak . . . written . . . through the inspiration of ale.⁵ A devotee of the perennially English tradition of fox hunting, Trollope depicts the excitement of the chase through incorporating dramatic hunting sequences—before the end of the hunt someone is sure to fall into a ditch or have his bones crushed—into many of his novels. Although he satirizes aristocrats who devote their entire lives to the hunt, Trollope loved the sport and hunted until he was over sixty years old. His novels are subtly nuanced anatomies of mid-Victorian society, an era in which social class was a major concern even as British culture was evolving into a less-stratified system. Despite his own impoverished youth, Trollope creates sympathetic portraits of upper-class characters, such as the Duke of Omnium, the major character in the Palliser novels, who is compelled to adjust to the demise of aristocratic power and authority. At the same time, Trollope also presents the incursion of wealthy Americans and the rise of a newly comfortable British middle class. M. A. Goldberg claims, "It is understandable why the tide of Trollope’s literary affairs turned with the publication of The Warden in 1855. Here, for the first time, Trollope managed to capture the spirit of his age. . . ."⁶

Trollope told his publisher that if The Warden proved successful he intended a sequel.⁷ Accordingly, the next novel in the series, Barchester Towers (1857), continues the story of Reverend Harding and his marriageable daughter; the sequel introduces other memorable characters as well, such as the conniving, sycophantic chaplain, Obadiah Slope, and the dictatorial, meddling Mrs. Proudie and her husband, the hen-pecked Bishop. With the Barset and Palliser series, Trollope popularized the multivolume sequence novel or roman—fleuve. They were formed of a series of interrelated volumes with recurring characters, but the individual novels stand well on their own. Yet when read as a series, the books gain the appeal of familiarity, and the characters become a circle of old friends. As in soap operas or serials, they gain their popularity from pleasurable returns to past experiences.

In addition to cultivating and popularizing the sequence novel, a genre well suited to the gargantuan reading appetites of Victorian audiences, the Trollopian novel introduced the fictional exploration of a moral case, a major contribution that is particularly evident in The Warden. Ruth apRoberts views this strategy as a kind of situation ethics. She argues that [h]is concern is always moral, and he is always recommending, by means of his cases, a more flexible morality.⁸ In The Warden, Trollope creates a complex dilemma not only by constructing a plot around a moral conflict, but through the subtlety of the case. Harding is less bothered by his opponent than by his own conscience; his most significant conflict is internal. As the man accused, Harding exemplifies a higher morality and conscience than those who persecute him. Moreover, although Harding loses his sinecure, he gains even greater moral credibility. The Trollopian social problem thus present[s] moot questions, gray areas, unanticipated embarrassments.⁹ The novel unfolds the moral dilemma with the momentum of Greek tragedy, as a small initial event precipitates a landslide that none of the participants could foretell and that none can stop.

The major interpretive crux of the novel centers on the precise motivation of the protagonist—whether Harding is a hero who resigns because of his conscience, or a fainthearted quitter who abdicates his position because he cannot tolerate the confrontation. Most critics find Harding to be a meek, mild-mannered hero, but Goldberg argues that Harding prefer[s] compromise to strife.¹⁰ Another critic who takes this less flattering view of the protagonist is Kevin Floyd, who finds that Harding’s motive is . . . a simple longing for the quiet that an end to the controversy will bring about.¹¹ Alternatively, this interpretation might be viewed as suggesting not so much as the failing of the protagonist as the promotion of an ethos that values a less competitive society. James Kincaid claims that Mr. Harding’s resignation . . . is a radical affirmation, a refusal to live by a morality which crudely equates virtue with success and therefore disregards the private life altogether.¹² One of Trollope’s major critics, Kincaid finds this theme to be reinforced in the following Barset novel: The real winners are those who do not fight. At the heart of the book is a profound protest against the competitive mode of life . . . .¹³ This interpretation, moreover, has autobiographical support since Trollope inveighed against public competition for civil service jobs; he believed that examinations were ineffective in identifying the most qualified candidate for positions such as the one he himself held with the Post Office.¹⁴

Trollope’s immense popularity with a wide public was fueled more by his sympathetic characters than by any driving suspense in his plots. He wrote in his Autobiography: No novel is anything, for purposes either of comedy or tragedy, unless the reader can sympathise with the characters whose name he finds upon the page. Let an author so tell his tale as to touch his reader’s heart and draw his tears, and he has, so far, done his work well.¹⁵ Only rarely did Trollope imitate the highly suspenseful sensation fiction popularized in the 1860s by Wilkie Collins and Mary Elizabeth Braddon. Although his novel The Eustace Diamonds introduces one of the early Victorian detectives and revolves around a mysterious theft of a valuable diamond necklace by a man who is discovered to be a bigamist, Trollope generally disdained the manipulation of readers that is a major feature of mysteries. He claimed, the highest merit which a novel can have consists in perfect delineation of character, rather than in plot.¹⁶ Most of his plots center on romantic complications: love and marriage thwarted by irrational jealousy, imprudent marriages later regretted, or rejected lovers who subsequently become the subject of obsessive love. It is the vivid emotional insight into characters that gives these simple plots their fascination. Perhaps Henry James, himself a nineteenth-century novelist and critic, best summarized Trollope’s appeal when he wrote upon the occasion of the author’s death that [h]is great, his inestimable merit was a complete appreciation of the usual.¹⁷

A best-selling author in his own lifetime, Trollope’s reputation suffered with his descendants, the modernists, who felt compelled to reject their Victorian precursors in their own efforts to revolutionize literature and make it new. Phillip Holcomb claims that the low point of Trollope’s popularity was from his death in 1882 until the 1930s. Trollope regained popularity during World War II, when his novels again became best sellers.¹⁸ Ironically, the posthumous publication of his Autobiography (1883), with its account of his method of writing three hours each morning, producing 250 words each quarter hour with his watch before him, may have most damaged his reputation, suggesting Trollope was concerned with commercial success rather than art. Discipline and imagination are not mutually exclusive, however. Trollope’s perennial popularity is attested to by the high praise he received from twentieth-century writers as diverse as Somerset Maugham and Rebecca West. More recently, Cynthia Ozick praised Trollope’s novels for their length and mourned, What disappoints in any novel by Trollope is the visible approach of its end: when more has been read than remains to be read.¹⁹ Something of a literary phoenix, Trollope continues to delight readers attracted to the complex humanity of his characters and the pure escapism of a good read.

Lynette Felber is Professor of English at Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne, where she teaches Victorian and modernist British literature. Editor-in-chief of Clio: A Journal of Literature, History, and the Philosophy of History, she is also the author of Literary Liaisons: Auto/Biographical Appropriations in Modernist Women’s Writing (2002) and Gender and Genre in Novels Without End: The British Roman-Fleuve (1995).

INTRODUCTION

THESE tales were written by the Author, not one immediately after another,—not intended to be in any sequence one to another except in regard to the two first,—with an intention rather that there should be no such sequence, but that the stories should go forth to the public as being in all respects separate, the sequence being only in the Author’s mind. I, the Author, had formed for myself so complete a picture of the locality, had acquired so accurate a knowledge of the cathedral town and the county in which I had placed the scene, and had become by a long-continued mental dwelling in it so intimate with sundry of its inhabitants, that to go back to it and write about it again and again have been one of the delights of my life. But I had taught myself to believe that few novels written in continuation, one of another, had been successful. Even Scott, even Thackeray, had failed to renew a great interest. Fielding and Dickens never ventured the attempt. Therefore, when Dr. Thorne, the third of the present series, was sent into the world, it was put forth almost with a hope that the locality might not be recognised. I hardly dared to do more than allude to a few of my old characters. Mrs. Proudie is barely introduced, though some of the scenes are laid in the city over which she reigned.

And in Framley Parsonage, and in the Last Chronicle, though I had become bolder in going back to the society of my old friends, I had looked altogether for fresh plots and new interests in order that no intending reader might be deterred by the necessity of going back to learn what had occurred before.

But now, when these are all old stories,—not perhaps as yet quite forgotten by the readers of the day, and to my memory fresh as when they were written,—I have a not unnatural desire to see them together, so that my records of a little bit of England which I have myself created may be brought into one set, and that some possible future reader may be enabled to study in a complete form the

CHRONICLES OF BARSETSHIRE.

CHAPTER I

HIRAM’S HOSPITAL

THE Rev. Septimus Harding was, a few years since, a beneficed clergyman residing in the cathedral town of——; let us call it Barchester. Were we to name Wells or Salisbury, Exeter, Hereford, or Gloucester, it might be presumed that something personal was intended; and as this tale will refer mainly to the cathedral dignitaries of the town in question, we are anxious that no personality may be suspected. Let us presume that Barchester is a quiet town in the West of England, more remarkable for the beauty of its cathedral and the antiquity of its monuments than for any commercial prosperity; that the west end of Barchester is the cathedral close, and that the aristocracy of Barchester are the bishop, dean, and canons, with their respective wives and daughters.

Early in life Mr. Harding found himself located at Barchester. A fine voice and a taste for sacred music had decided the position in which he was to exercise his calling, and for many years he performed the easy but not highly paid duties of a minor canon. At the age of forty a small living in the close vicinity of the town increased both his work and his income, and at the age of fifty he became precentor of the cathedral.

Mr. Harding had married early in life, and was the father of two daughters. The eldest, Susan, was born soon after his marriage; the other, Eleanor, not till ten years later. At the time at which we introduce him to our readers he was living as precentor at Barchester with his youngest daughter, then twenty-four years of age; having been many years a widower, and having married his eldest daughter to a son of the bishop, a very short time before his installation to the office of precentor.

Scandal at Barchester affirmed that had it not been for the beauty of his daughter, Mr. Harding would have remained a minor canon; but here probably Scandal lied, as she so often does; for even as a minor canon no one had been more popular among his reverend brethren in the close than Mr. Harding; and Scandal, before she had reprobated Mr. Harding for being made precentor by his friend the bishop, had loudly blamed the bishop for having so long omitted to do something for his friend Mr. Harding. Be this as it may, Susan Harding, some twelve years since, had married the Rev. Dr. Theophilus Grantly, son of the bishop, archdeacon of Barchester, and rector of Plumstead Episcopi, and her father became, a few months later, precentor of Barchester Cathedral, that office being, as is not usual, in the bishop’s gift.

Now there are peculiar circumstances connected with the precentorship which must be explained. In the year 1434 there died at Barchester one John Hiram, who had made money in the town as a wool-stapler, and in his will he left the house in which he died and certain meadows and closes near the town, still called Hiram’s Butts, and Hiram’s Patch, for the support of twelve superannuated wool-carders, all of whom should have been born and bred and spent their days in Barchester; he also appointed that an alms-house should be built for their abode, with a fitting residence for a warden, which warden was also to receive a certain sum annually out of the rents of the said butts and patches. He, moreover, willed, having had a soul alive to harmony, that the precentor of the cathedral should have the option of being also warden of the alms-houses, if the bishop in each case approved.

From that day to this the charity has gone on and prospered—at least the charity had gone on, and the estates had prospered. Wool-carding in Barchester there was no longer any; so the bishop, dean, and warden, who took it in turn to put in the old men, generally appointed some hangers-on of their own; worn-out gardeners, decrepit grave-diggers, or octogenarian sextons, who thankfully received a comfortable lodging and one shilling and fourpence a day, such being the stipend to which, under the will of John Hiram, they were declared to be entitled. Formerly, indeed,—that is, till within some fifty years of the present time,—they received but sixpence a day, and their breakfast and dinner was found them at a common table by the warden, such an arrangement being in stricter conformity with the absolute wording of old Hiram’s will: but this was thought to be inconvenient, and to suit the tastes of neither warden nor bedesmen, and the daily one shilling and fourpence was substituted with the common consent of all parties, including the bishop and the corporation of Barchester.

Such was the condition of Hiram’s twelve old men when Mr. Harding was appointed warden; but if they may be considered to have been well-to-do in the world according to their condition, the happy warden was much more so. The patches and butts which, in John Hiram’s time, produced hay or fed cows, were now covered with rows of houses; the value of the property had gradually increased from year to year and century to century, and was now presumed by those who knew anything about it to bring in a very nice income; and by some who knew nothing about it, to have increased to an almost fabulous extent.

The property was farmed by a gentleman in Barchester, who also acted as the bishop’s steward,—a man whose father and grandfather had been stewards to the bishops of Barchester, and farmers of John Hiram’s estate. The Chadwicks had earned a good name in Barchester; they had lived respected by bishops, deans, canons, and precentors; they had been buried in the precincts of the cathedral; they had never been known as griping, hard men, but had always lived comfortably, maintained a good house, and held a high position in Barchester society. The present Mr. Chadwick was a worthy scion of a worthy stock, and the tenants living

Reviews for The Warden (Barnes & Noble Library of Essential Reading)

[yarb_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My first Trollope and very much as I’d been led to expect, but surprising in many ways, too. The title character, a middling churchman called Harding, benefits from the wardenship, in the gift of the Bishop, of an endowed invalid hospital and the cushy income that comes with it, some centuries after the original bequest. Innocent as the day is long, he plays his cello, carries out his trifling episcopal duties, and draws his £800 p.a. until fine young social reformer, and suitor of the Warden’s daughter, John Bold, takes it on himself to campaign for a distribution of the old legacy more equable and in keeping with the ancient benefactor’s intention. Suddenly the Warden’s world is wobbling, and the more he thinks about it, the more convinced he is that he’s been living fraudulently. It’s the anti-Dickens — no-one is all good or all bad, no heroes and certainly no villains here. Trollope in one of his very many authorial intrusions even mock-apologizes for the somewhat derogatory portrayal of one character, insisting that he has many redeeming qualities that simply weren’t relevant to the story. The Trollopisms are generally well-received but do sometimes get in the way of things — but no more so than Thackerayisms, Dickensisms, etc. Speaking of Dickens, he’s in the pillory here as “Mr Popular Sentiment”, a novelist who takes up the cudgels for Bold. It’s a slam dunk as far as I’m concerned — Dickens is ludicrously sentimental, a populist, a writer shamelessly pandering to his public. But he’s also a writer of genius, sometimes, who produces prose that not only would be outside Trollope’s ambit but would embarrass a Trollope novel — descriptive journalistic passages like when Dickens delves into the grime of the street or of journalism or of drawing rooms, in a way Trollope would never dare do. Here we get high-handed satire of journalism and politics, but it’s essayistic. Dickens for all his flaws was a democratic author, someone who wrote everything he saw and saw most things more or less unprejudicedly. Trollope, we realise in the last chapter or two of The Warden, is a very conservative voice, who genuinely believes that if the oppressed would just shut up about their oppression, they’d die happy and grateful to their betters. I found the ending of this novel unpalatable, but I really liked spending time with the Warden, a beautifully realized character, and the other habituees of this amusing sliver of C19 English life.

[farrhon · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

No heroes - simple plot - like dickens but lighter

[missbrangwen · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love Victorian novels, but I haven't read one in quite a long time, so I thought that this comparably short one would be a good reintroduction. It was in some aspects, and in others not so much.The title refers to Septimus Harding, who is the warden of an almshouse that is home to twelve elderly and poor men. This almshouse was donated and is still maintained due to the charitable will of one man who lived four centuries ago. A local surgeon, John Bold, who considers himself a reformer, raises the question if the warden should earn a much smaller sum of money for his tasks, and if justice is done to the will by the way the finances of the almshouse are kept. To make things more complicated, Bold is both a friend of the warden and as good as engaged to his daughter Eleanor.While I thought the moral questions raised in the novel to be interesting, the plot and style seemed a little too constructed to me. The excursions into politics, the comments on the media and the important role the church plays in the story were a little too much for my taste. The strong presence of the narrator disturbed my reading flow. On the other hand, when the story was actually going, I quite enjoyed it, and there were a few scenes and pictures that really went to my heart. I liked the characterization of most of the characters, including the more satirical ones. I will continue with The Barsetshire Chronicles, but will not be in a rush as long as I have so many other unread Victorian novels still on my shelves.

[twinkley_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I chose this because I've always wanted to try this author and now that I've found the Serial Reader app, this was easy to read. The novel is about a man who is in charge of a home run by the church for poor elderly men who needs medical care at the end of their life. Trouble ensues for the Warden of this home when a local do-gooder thinks the men deserve more money than they are receiving for their care and the Warden should be making less. The rest of the novel is how the various characters deal with this issue. There isn't much drama but I found myself enjoying this and found it a pleasant read. The Warden, Mr. Harding, is a likable man and I found myself in sympathy with him throughout the novel.

[almin-70827 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Love the writing and the language, even if I have to, at times, read a sentence twice, three times. I still love the beauty of how the words are used and each sentence is an interpretation. Trollope created a character who was drowning in his virtues. I thought there was a better solution to his dilemma, he wasn't a practical man, idealistic perhaps, but unable to see the impact of his actions on other people. His conscience was satisfied, but he abandoned the others who were his responsibility, via his job. The future bedesmen that could have benefited from the trust were never allowed the opportunity because of the warden's need to keep his conscience pure.

[john.cooper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

You never forget your first Trollope. In my case, I was surprised to find a very gentle, witty, assured portrait of a group of generally decent people engaged in the kind of struggle that is at the same time very specific to its time and place, and instantly understandable as an experience in human society. I won't say what that struggle is, because it would strike most people as boring, and yet I was never bored. This is to bedtime reading what a quick pasta in a creamy sauce is to a weekday night in winter: pure comfort literature. I understand that this was only Trollope's fourth novel out of the forty-some he published during his life, so I'll be interested to read the rest of the Barchester series and perhaps watch as he expands his authorial palate.

[john257hopper · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This short novel is the first of the author's six Barsetshire chronicles, set in the fictional county town and cathedral city of Barchester, a generic West country location. It's a simple tale of a legal dispute over the distribution of charitable funds under an ancient will, and the conflicts this causes in the family of warden Septimus Harding, especially with his married daughter Susan and son in law Archdeacon Grantly, and his unmarried daughter Eleanor and her suitor John Bold. Despite its seemingly trivial nature, this strikes a chord and was quite an enjoyable read, with the author's writing style fairly simple and direct, by 19th century standards. He satirises Dickens as Mr Popular Sentiment.

[seriousgrace · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Reverend Septimus Harding, at fifty years old, became Precentor of the Cathedral as well as the Warden of Hiram's Hospital. Because of his dual employment he makes a significantly higher wage than others. This inequality of salary is a modern conflict and no one is more bothered by this than John Bold. But Mr. bold has a conflict of interest. While he is against Mr. Harding's significant salary and starts a petition to challenge it, he is also attracted and betrothed to Harding's twenty four year old daughter, Eleanor. When he realizes the heartache he has caused the Harding family he tries to retract his complaint..but of course it is too late. The wheels of justice have been set in motion. The lesson for John Bold is you made your bed, now you have to lie in it.The lesson for the Warden is one of morality. Eventually, the suit is abandoned but Harding is still wracked with guilt. He resigns despite everyone's urging to reconsider.

[celerydog_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Highly enjoyable satire skewering the administration of bequests by the church, and the role of the press and the law in public disputes. Apart from the language it could have been written today, so sharp was the wit and pillorying of the central protagonists. Dickensian character names e.g. John Bold, who is Bold, but ill-considered; Mr Harding, who is a pushover, not hard at all; etc., add to the fun. Highly recommended to book groups, as ours enjoyed a full 90 minutes of discussion, with more to discuss yet.

[beyondedenrock · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I really didn’t mean to set out on my journey through Trollope’s Barsetshire novels this year. I loved the Palliser novels, I planned to read a few more of his stand-alone novels before I began his other series; and, if I’m honest, I have to admit that I was a little wary of this first book, that many have said is weaker that the books that follow and that I gave up on back in the days before I came to understand what makes Trollope so very special.A disappointing dramatisation of a book from the middle of this series – I’ll say no more because others who know and love that book have said it already, and much better than I could – made me want to read that book. Because, disappointing though it was, I could see enough in the underpinning to suggest that it was likely to be a book I would love.That was why, with just a little apprehension, I picked up this first book in the series.I loved it. And now that I am well into the second book in the series I have to say that I’m not enjoying it as much as I enjoyed this first book. ‘Barchester Towers’ feels rambling and unstructured after this book; I do like it, but not as much as I had hoped, and so I have put it to one side for a while.‘The Warden’ is one of Trollope’s shorter novels, and I would liken it to a beautifully wrought miniature; not quite perfect but lovely nonetheless.This story, like many a Trollope, spins around a will. An alms house was set up under the terms of the will of John Hiram in the fifteenth century, to provide food, comfort and shelter for twelve old men who had no home and no means. They were also granted a shilling and fourpence a day for any other wants they might have.What surplus there was – and sometimes there was very little – was granted to the warden a clergyman responsible for the running of what would become known as ‘Hiram’s Hospital’ and for the spiritual welfare of the men who resided there.The explaining of this took a while, and that may have been why I put the book down first time around. This time though I felt at home in the author’s company and I recalled that my aunt had been warden of a similar alms house, albeit in a different age and under very different terms.This story begins when Septimus Harding, a respected, well-liked clergyman, was the warden of Hiram’s Hospital, and when the value of the bequest had grown significantly. That meant that Mr Harding had a very healthy income as well as a lovely house and garden; and he was happy in his work; he cared for his twelve residents and they all liked and respected him.It is the story of the trials of Mr Harding.John Bold, an earnest young reformer, was convinced that the hospital funds were being unfairly allocated and that the warden’s income was out of proportion to the minimal duties he is expected to perform. Mr Harding was unworldly, he had never thought to question the financial arrangements of the hospital, though he had had used his personal funds to increase the allowance given to the hospital’s residents to one and sixpence a day.The popular press took up Mr Bold’s cause, it became a cause celebre, and a court case ensued.The clerical community, with the forceful archdeacon Dr Grantly, son of the Bishop and husband of Mr Harding’s elder daughter at the forefront, supported the continuation of the warden’s right to the surplus income from the bequest.John Bold took the opposite view; even though he considered Mr. Harding as a friend, even though he sought the hand in marriage of his younger daughter, Eleanor.Mr Harding wanted to do the right thing, but he was none to sure what the right thing was.I loved the way that Trollope told this story. He presented his characters and all of the arguments so well; his narrative voice was warm, acute and witty; and I was particularly taken with how well he created the letters and newspaper reports that illuminated his story.I appreciated that, though I had a good idea where his sympathies lay, he presented both sides of the matter quite clearly. That made it easy to feel empathy with Mr Harding, a good man who really didn’t know what the rightness of the case was. And to wonder what had been the intentions of John Hiram when he made his will, and what would happen to the old men at the institution the bore his name.I was very taken with archdeacon, Dr Grantly. He was so certain of the rightness of his cause, and so formidable as he set out to fight for that cause. He was wonderfully entertaining on the printed page, and, though I’m not sure I’d like to meet him in real life, I loved his tenacity, and his loyalty to his family and the church.I loved Eleanor Harding. She was as devoted to his father as he was to her, and she snubbed John Bold while he was in the enemy camp. She didn’t cut her ties with him though; his sister continued to be her dearest friend, and she hoped that her romance could be rekindled when the court case was over and the dust had settled. She would always be loyal to her father, but she would never lose sight of the future that she knew was ahead of her, the life she wanted to lead.Most of all though I loved Septimus Harding. He loved his daughters, he loved the old men who were in his care, he loved the work he had been called to do, he appreciated all of the good things he had in his life; and when finally decided what was the right thing to do he proved to be as tenacious, in his own quiet way as his formidable son-in-law.The sequence of events, as he travelled to London and found his way to the people he needed to see – very much an innocent abroad – was beautifully judged and a joy to read.,His subsequent visit to the bishop, an old and sympathetic friend, and his return to Hiram’s Hospital were every bit as good.There were one or two character I would have liked to spend a little more time with – Mary Bold, Susan Grantly and certain of the residents of Hiram’s Hospital – but this is a small book and there is a whole series ahead of me to see a little more of the characters in this book and to meet others.I’m not sure that I’ll like the next book as much as this one, but I do want to give it another chance and I do want to spend more time in this world.

[alisony-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I fear this review may put me on the LT naughty step, but I didn't love this anywhere near as much as expected. When it eventually got going it became interesting enough, but for a short novel boy it took it's time. Perhaps it was the clerical setting that I found a little dull until I reached the actual cusp of the tale. Anyway, I felt like I was plodding through this novel for much of it, and actively looking forward to reaching the end so I could get on to my next book.3.5 stars - ultimately a clever tale of consequences, but the diocese setting wasn't for me.

[deldevries · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Not my cup of tea. I agree that Trollope is able to tell the stories of the English people, but it is a bit slow. Good for practicing speed reading!

[pilgrimjess · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

“Did you ever know a poor man made better by law or a lawyer!'Four hundred years before the action starts John Hiram establishes a charitable hospital for the poor men of the nearby town of Barchester. Overseeing the hospital is a warden, a position gained from the preferment of the town's bishop. The estate is now making enough money that the warden can be paid a high salary. Local man John Bold,who sees himself to be a kind of moral crusader, believes that this position and salary is a corruption, of the original bequest so starts a legal battle.The case is important. The clergy believes that this can set a legal precedent concerning the role of the Church of England. In contrast Tom Towers, a reporter for the newspaper the Jupiter, takes up the case for the bedesmen (residents) and writes several slanderous editorials attacking the Church and the warden.The Warden is largely the exploration of Mr. Harding's conscience, his craving for privacy, his sense of duty, and his love for Eleanor and the men of the almshouse. At the centre of it is the wonderfully complex figure of Mr. Harding, thrust into a limelight he loathes and forced to defend a position he is beginning to consider indefensible. Trollope makes repeated references to Greek Gods and Goddesses. When Eleanor decides that she must sacrifice herself for her father's sake, she is inspired by the myth of Iphigenia, who sacrificed herself for her father. Tom Towers sees his office at the Jupiter as Mount Olympus and he sees himself as a god, shaping the reality of all the people. The comparison of the characters to heroes and heroines from ancient myths hints at the cruel, detached nature of most gods and goddesses. The story is told in third person by a narrator who often seems to be omniscient, revealing many characters' innermost thoughts. Once in a while, however, the narrator speaks conversationally to the reader, as though the reader and narrator are sitting together telling a story. Sadly time has not been beneficial to Trollope.I doubt if the subject matter is relevant any more,assuming it ever really was. Whilst the prose is beautiful there is very little action and this is often stymied by over elaboration, either about the environs or the characters themselves giving it rather stilted feel IMHO. That said this my first experience of Trollope so I cannot honestly say if this representative of his output or merely the result of this being the first book in a series. The tale is a gentle, heart-warming affair but I can imagine that this book will have an almost marmite quality to it, either you will love or loathe it.

[jbd1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I've not read Trollope before, and just recently decided it was time to fill that particular gap in my education, so resolved to begin picking up nice copies of his works as I found them. Quite literally the next day there was a lovely near-complete set of the Barsetshire books (Everyman's Library edition) on the shelves at a local shop, and I couldn't resist just adding the lot of them to my shelves. A copy of the missing volume was easily obtained, and now I can look forward to savoring them (that is, if I can manage not to read them all in one grand bacchanal, which may be difficult to avoid if this first dip into the pool is any indication). What a delight this was! A lush, leisurely story, filled with dry humor, an intriguing cast of characters, and with a real moral dilemma at its heart. And ooooh, that Archdeacon Grantly! From the very first I had this "no way this can possibly end well" sense, and it was a great pleasure to see how Trollope brought it all together. Effectively satirical and deeply amusing, this volume has very much made me want to read more.

[ridgewaygirl · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had been warned that this is not Anthony Trollope's most exciting novel, but as it is the first in the Barsetshire Chronicles and I had a copy at hand, it was the first Trollope that I've read. It hasn't generally aged well, nineteenth century Church of England politics being somewhat out of fashion as a topic of interest, but the writing is strong and reminded me why I enjoy Victorian authors so much. Reverend Harding is a pleasant, ineffectual man who has a sinecure as the warden of a small retirement home for deserving working class men that includes a house with pleasant gardens and an annual salary of 800 pounds, given to him because one of his two daughters had married the son of the bishop. Here he lives comfortably, enjoying his music, reading books and visiting the old men in the adjoining hospital now and again. His life would have continued in pleasant routine had not a spirit of reform begun to sweep England and a young reformer, the aptly named John Bold, questioned the generosity of the annual allowance. Trollope is clearly on the side of the status quo, and he breaks from the narrative to complain about the tactics of an author (supposedly Charles Dickens), whom he calls Mr Popular Sentiment, and who he accuses of biasing the public by creating characters and situations that manipulate the reader into sympathy with his poor working class characters. Of course, Trollope is doing exactly the same thing here; Harding is so mild and inoffensive that it is impossible not to hope that he can keep his generous and largely unearned salary. Outside of the machinations of the lawyers, clergymen and journalists, there is a sub-plot involving Harding's unmarried daughter and John Bold. They had feelings for each other before Bold discovered possible shady dealings on the matter of the wardenship and it's uncertain as to whether their love will survive the conflict. This part of the novel is particularly satisfying, as Eleanor is an interesting character and Bold's conflict as he tries to do what he sees is right without losing her love results in the most satisfying chapters in this brief novel. I'm looking forward to continuing on with the Barsetshire Chronicles.

[janesteen_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Where I got the book: audiobook on Audible.This is the first novel in the Barchester Chronicles—attentive friends may remember that I listened to the second novel, Barchester Towers, first, loved it and then found it was the abridged version (grrrr) and decided to go back to the beginning and listen to the whole series, unabridged. There are several different audio versions available, and after listening to the samples I opted for this one, narrated by David Shaw-Parker who does a nice job.It’s a simple enough story: clergyman Septimus Harding is living a peaceful life as the Warden of a hospital (a sort of charity home) for old, indigent men. It’s a nice job with few responsibilities and a fat stipend, allowing Mr. Harding to live as a gentleman and support his single daughter Eleanor. But then reformer John Bold (who happens to be Eleanor’s sweetheart) starts asking questions about the legacy that set up the hospital in the first place, and why the Warden lives so well when the old men only receive a small payment. The newspapers start paying attention, and poor Mr. Harding (who’s been supplementing the old men’s living out of his own pocket) has to choose between giving up his comfortable life or putting up with the glare of publicity brought about by a lawsuit.Trollope’s sympathies seem to be squarely on the side of tradition in this story, which was inspired by a number of cases brought against clergymen who were living too well. Having just listened to Barchester Towers (which, of course, I shall be listening to again soon in the unabridged version) I was surprised to realize how closely the two novels are connected—if you’re going to read Barchester Towers, generally considered Trollope’s greatest novel, you should doubtless read The Warden first. Being Trollope there’s a great deal of legal and political detail, interspersed with character sketches at some length. At one point we follow Mr. Harding through just about every minute of a difficult afternoon spent in London, which is hard going even though for the historian it does supply an enormous amount of detail about how people actually lived. It’s during this day that Trollope also goes into a long riff on the power of the press, which is decidedly tedious. In today’s terms, this novel’s got a bit of a saggy middle. And yet I enjoyed the story on the whole, and the audiobook format definitely makes it easier to digest. I’m looking forward to revisiting Barchester in the near future.

[pgchuis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

There is not a huge amount of plot to this novel and the Goodreads blurb sums it up really. There is humour in Mr Harding's fear of the archdeacon, but the story is very topical and references several real-life cases of C of E abuses and attempted reforms, as well as parodying Dickens and Carlyle. The introduction and notes in this edition are excellent, almost necessary for a modern reader truly to understand certain sections.I much prefer the next in the series, "Barchester Towers" (I read them out of order), and I agree with the narrator that Dr Grantly doesn't come out of this volume too well. I found John Bold's actions here puzzling: he goes after Mr Harding despite being in love with Eleanor, but when she asks him to drop the case as it is upsetting her father, he agrees immediately. Either he didn't think at all about the consequences of his actions or he is entirely lacking in the kind of principle that the meek Mr Harding displays.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An enjoyable snippet of Victoriana. I mainly read it as a set-up for Barchester Towers which is the next in the series and is supposed to be quite good. This one stood nicely on its own, though. Good introduction to Mr. Harding and the other characters.

[la2bkk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My first work by Trollope, and I was impressed. The author writes in a simple and straightforward style that a modern reader can appreciate. Likewise, the story line was straightforward, with just enough characters to complete the work. So often I am left wondering why authors of this period include so many unnecessary persons and detail. Not so with Trollope.Among its messages, I most appreciated the book's powerful statement about how media can be used, or abused.

[nosajeel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I had been saving Trollope for later life, largely because I was worried that once I got started I might feel compelled to read all 47 of his novels. But somehow read the first few pages of this and couldn't put it down. The story is rather slight, many of the characters absurd, some of the satire over the top, but somehow it is enjoying and compelling from beginning to end.

The story is about a church official who also serves as the beneficent, albeit well remunerated, Warden of an almshouse for twelve elderly, indigent men. He becomes the target of a local reformer who wants more of the endowment to go to the poor and less to the Warden. A series of lawsuits and machinations follow, lightly interspersed with a wooden romance, and along the way Trollope skewers parliament, the media, the Church of England, philosophical writers, Charles Dickens, and others. Unlike Dickens, none of the characters -- minor or major -- have much life to them. And most of them are painfully cardboard.

But somehow the careful descriptions, the impossible situation depicted, and the panormatic view of this tiny segment of time, space and society are compelling. As one of Trollope's earliest works, I can only assume they get better -- and will require some restraint not to pick up another Trollope novel anytime soon.

[jaylia3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

With a small town Victorian setting, the fictional Barsetshire, and an appealing somewhat Austen-like cast of characters, Trollope's novel The Warden illustrates just how complicated reforming a centuries old church policy can be, even when everyone involved has valid concerns and mostly the best of intentions. When John Hiram died in long ago 1434 his will left money and property for the support of twelve impoverished older men retired from the trade of wool-carding, the men being replaced by others as they passed on to the better world, all of which was to be overseen by a warden compensated for his work. The charity has prospered in the 400 or so years since it was established and has been able to continue its mission unabated. Obviously by Victorian times though things had changed--there were no longer wool carders in Barsetshire for instance--so terms have had to be adjusted, but maybe they have strayed too far from the original intent? Currently the twelve elderly recipients are housed in comfortable lodgings, receiving all they need to live and allocated a small amount of money for their own use. Rev. Harding, the just and compassionate warden, also gives the twelve an extra stipend from his own pocket, and the men enjoy both his company and the beautiful music he plays in the evenings. But then John Bold, a reform minded young man incidentally in love with the warden’s daughter, takes it into his head that the warden’s yearly salary is too much and that more of the charity's money should be going directly to the twelve men. Which sets up an achingly poignant conundrum. Should such a caring warden’s income be reduced? Everyone has a strong opinion about what is right, including the men themselves, and when the matter is taken up by the press the poor warden is vilified, horrifying him. There is almost an O. Henry quality to this story, with some surprise twists at the end and most characters having to live with the unexpected consequences of actions they had thought so prudent at the time. Trollope uses The Warden to make lots of observations about human nature and the workings of Victorian society, which are wittily written and for the most part interesting, but they do slow the story down. I had heard The Warden is the weakest of Trollope’s Barsetshire novels, which makes me very eager to read the rest because I loved this one.

[bookworm12_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first book in Trollope’s Chronicles of Barsetshire series. I’d heard in advance that it’s not always the best place to start with the series, but my type A personality insisted I read them in the correct order. It is a slow novel, one where very little action happens and I struggled to get into the first section. But at some point things clicked into place for me. I started to see past the surface plot of a financial debate dealing with the care of a local hospital, and I began to see the characters’ inner struggles.Septimus Harding is the Warden, a title he earned by running Hiram's Hospital, a charity house. His daughter’s beau, John Bold, starts to question how the charity is run and draws up a case against the Warden. Harding has two daughters, Susan, who is already married, and Eleanor, who lives with him and who is being courted by John Bold. Bold’s decision to challenge Harding’s income puts an uncomfortable wrench in his plan to marry Eleanor.Once you get past the initial slow start, the book provides an interesting look at the motives behind actions. Bond sees his purpose as noble and right even though he’s hurting the people he loves. It makes the reader question his decision, is it truly motivated by his beliefs or by his pride? Both Bond and Harding have difficult decisions to make and they are being encouraged by their friends to do very specific things. The local newspaper is also playing a part in aggravating the situation. In the end, does it matter why you make a decision if it is the right one? Or is it more important to stick to your original mission despite the effect it will have on others?In some ways this novel reminded me of Gilead. Both books have a quiet nature and focus on the decisions of elderly men. Both also have a younger man who is struggling with a decision. Both have religious overtones that dictate the path of the main characters. It was an interesting parallel since the two books are set in such different time periods and locations.BOTTOM LINE: An interesting read that took a bit to get into. I’ve heard the next book in the series is better and so I’m excited to read that one. I enjoyed watching Trollope peel away the layers of this issue until the moral core was revealed. I’m looking forward to seeing how he does that in the other Chronicles of Barsetshire novels.“Bold began to comfort himself in the warmth of his own virtue.”“In matters of love men do not see clearly in their own affairs.”“There are some points on which no man can be contented to follow the advice of another,—some subjects on which a man can consult his own conscience only.” 

[stillatim · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Not exactly perfectly structured, not beautifully written, simplistic plot. There's plenty of filler - the parody of Carlyle is funny, but did we need two versions? And yet enjoyable - especially if you suspect that 'the media' is mainly a tool for whipping 'the public' into a frenzy with misinformation, that a laudable interest in justice is often perverted by self-interest and naivety, or that the three-volume Victorian novel really was too long - and very smart. You might disagree with the Warden's position, but it's sympathetic, and Trollope doesn't let you agree with it unthinkingly. But really, a long short story would have been enough. I'll definitely dig deeper into his Barchester novels.

[cecrow · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Wading through the first two chapters of exposition, I was wondering why anybody still bothered with Trollope. After that, I found out. There's a tidy little story here about a seemingly straightforward issue that becomes increasingly complex as we become familiar with each side of it. I'm not sure what moral is arrived at by the end, since anything I'm able to imagine has a counter-example when viewed from one of the many other perspectives. Perhaps the press comes off as the one true villain of the piece, although it's side of the story is curiously missing from the epilogue so that might be all that created that impression. Trollope plays very fair to all sides - maybe a little too fair, although my sympathies remain with Mr. Harding. This was pre-reading for Barchester Towers; I'll enjoy revisiting these characters but I hope that story will be a little more clear about its message. (PS - appreciated the dig at Dickens he slips into this novel, not sure I agreed with him though.)EDIT: on further thought, the message is that money can't buy the happiness earned by a clean conscience. The Warden feels no worse off for his reduced income, while the tenants lose many of the pleasures they were enjoying after striving for more.

[sanddune_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The first of Anthony Trollope's Barchester Chronicles, The Warden is a short but beautifully formed book. The story of Mr Septimus Harding, the precentor of Barchester Cathedral, and the warden of Hiram's Hospital, an almshouse in the cathedral city of Barchester. The twelve old men housed by the hospital receive an income of one shilling and four pence per day, whereas the increase in the value of the property in the centuries since the charity was founded leaves the warden with a substantial income of eight hundred pounds a year and the use of a handsome house. But as voices begin to be raised questioning whether this division of funds is in line with the original wishes of John Hiram, the very private Mr Harding must face the public scrutiny of his affairs. And to complicate matters the chief instigator of the enquiries is the man with whom Mr Harding's daughter Eleanor is in love.For me the strength of this book is in the memorable characters that Trollope creates: the honest and generous Mr Harding battling with his own concience; the gentle but ineffectual Bishop; and blowing through the book like a whirlwind there is the wonderful archdeacon Dr Grantley, who alternately organises and terrorises all around him.Trollope's language at times is just perfect. On discovering that Mr Harding's daughter is likely to become engaged to the chief reformer, John Bold:'The bishop did not whistle; we believe that they lose the power of doing so on being consecrated; and that in these days one might as easily meet a corrupt judge as a whistling bishop; but he looked as if he would have done so, but for his apron.'This would probably have rated five stars were it not for some of the satire being lost on the modern reader, although his portrait of the famous novelist Mr Popular Sentiment is still recognisable to anyone who has read any Dickens at all!I'll definitely going on to read the rest of the Barchester Chronicles.

[jmoncton_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first of the Barsetshire Chronicles by Anthony Trollope. Set in mid 1800's England, Mr. Harding as Warden of a home for the poor. Due to some lucky investments, the Warden receives a sizeable stipend, which was never intended by the original legacy that created the home. Reverend Hardy has the dilemma of choosing between poverty (only 100 pounds a year!) vs. staying in his current comfortable position even though he feels it is morally wrong.

As a Dickens fan, many people have suggested I read Anthony Trollope. I really enjoyed his style, similar setting to Dickens, but not quite the drama of some of Dickens' novels. I have already picked up the next in the series.

I listened to the Simon Vance audio edition of this book. Excellent, excellent, excellent!

[paradiseporch · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first in the classic Chronicles of Barsetshire series and features befuddled cleric Septimus Harding and a kafuffle over his income. Trollope set his story in his current day, in this case 1855. There is lots of social satire (including a veiled reference to Charles Dickens), biting humour, and pokes at church & state.I’ll admit this was humourous, but I’m not really into early Victorian times so began to find Trollope’s references boring. I’m glad I read this (my introduction to Trollope) but I’m not in a hurry to read more by him, even though it’s likely that if I did want Victorian literature, he would be near the top of my list.Read this if: you’re a fan of Victorian literature. 3½ stars

[weeksc07-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After years of reading around Trollope, I was finally hit by the urge to pick up one of his books, and boy am I glad I did. In doing research to find out where I should start, I read that [The Warden], while important as the first of the Barsetshire novels, is one of Trollope's lesser works. If that is true, I can't wait to move on the remainder of Barsetshire, and after that, the Palliser novels. But on to my review.In simplest terms, it is easy to describe this book as [Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell] without the magic or Downton Abbey without the melodrama: not a whole lot of importance happens, but the narrator and characters are so charming, the story is worthwhile. The dialogue is outstanding. It was extremely easy to imagine these conversations actually taking place in Victorian parlors. The characterization is quite strong, and there are little details, like Mr. Harding's habit of playing an imaginary cello in times of stress, that are just so enjoyable.There are a few points that I do feel I have to harp on though. There are two consecutive chapters in the middle of the book that are extended metaphors that bog the flow of the story down, without contributing much. Not coincidentally, these are both thinly veiled attacks on institutions of the time: one the journalistic establishment; the other, Charles Dickens. Not long after these two chapters, Trollope suddenly falls in love with footnotes for a single chapter...with the unfortunate fact that every one of these says essentially the same thing.In the end, however, I greatly enjoyed this novel and highly recommend it to fans of Victorian literature, and possibly even to people who enjoy Downton Abbey, as long as they can deal with the lack of opulence. If you've made it this far, I'd just like to add that this is my first review on LT and am grateful for your having stuck with me till the end.

[rkreish_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I can't read only fluff in the summertime: my goal for the summer is to bust through a few books in the Barsetshire Chronicles. Loved reading the free ebook, but I used the Penguin Classics edition for the footnotes and intro.

[pnorman4345 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Wonderful novel of politics and individuals.