Classic Adaptation. I have had time only for a dip into the 1974 BBC adaptation of the six Palliser novels. It has 26
one-hour episodes, which promises ample room to stretch out and thus be more
faithful to the original stories, which is unusual in an adaptation. The sets
are beautiful and the costumes striking but lack the textured look
ushered in by Merchant-Ivory movies in the late 1980s and early 1990s. In 1974
they could certainly not achieve that kitschy HD look movies – Christopher Robin, for instance - are
ridden with now. But I still believe in balloons and honey, okay? Especially in
plague years.
Can You Forgive Her? – Anthony Trollope
The first book in
the Palliser series was published in serial form from 1864 to 1865. Trollope
examines the cases of three women who readers may or may not feel to be in need
of the forgiveness asked for in the title.
Alice Vavasor gets
her headstrong nature from her willful mother who died shortly after giving her
birth, leaving her daughter a pile of tin that her well-off relatives wanted to
keep from the clutches of John Vavasor. They hated him since they didn’t
approve of the marriage which their stubborn daughter dived into. We can’t say motherless
Alice was raised by her father John since he always left Alice alone, hanging
out at his club or working his silly sinecure of signing papers for 12 hours a
week.
At the beginning
of this novel, Alice is engaged to an upright man named John Gray. Like his
bland name, he is leading what looks to her a colorless life of reading and
gardening in bleak Cambridgeshire. She loves him, but she sees her future with
him as one of a kind of upper servant in a remote country house. She sees
herself as fit for better things and playing a role in the larger plays of life,
perhaps with a political husband whose campaigns she can fund with her wealth.
Alice is drawn again
to her cousin George Vavasor, who she had turned down once before, for reasons about
which Trollope remains mum. We post-moderns are thinking that poor Alice could
avoid a lot of trouble by not marrying somebody she shared grandparents with. But
Victorians saw things differently from us and where would our novel be if
cousin marriage was a no-no? George is excessively ambitious to be a Member of
Parliament. Alice’s cousin Kate, George’s sister, without scruples, manipulates
Alice’s inclinations and emotions into thinking she could marry and assist the
untrustworthy George. Alice jilts the worthy John Gray, but tells George she
won’t marry him till a year goes by.
Another woman possibly
in need of forgiveness is Lady Glencora Palliser, a good friend of Alice. She married
Plantagenet Palliser, a Member of Parliament who has his eye on becoming
Chancellor of the Exchequer. Lady Glencora comes from an immensely rich family so
she has money of her own which her husband can use, if need be, in his
campaigns.
Glencora feels
trapped in a loveless marriage and fears she’s letting his people down by not
having an heir. Her husband doesn’t value a work/life balance that would
provide her with the love and attention which she craves. She carries a torch
for the worthless and penniless but shockingly handsome aristo, Burgo Fitzgerald.
Alice, a prude, tells Glencora she is being perverse and wicked about Burgo,
but the abject example of Planny and Cora’s marriage pushes Alice toward
George, making her think risky and warm is better than dull and tepid. Trollope
makes a clear point that bad decisions and worse yearnings are contagious.
The third woman that
might need forgiveness is Mrs. Greenow, the star of the romantic comic subplot.
The aunt of Alice's father John is a theatrical widow, wearing fashionable weeds
and tearing up on command. It’s not clear if she really loved her decrepit
husband but she clearly enjoys being pursued by two men. Captain Bellfield, a
veteran of the army if his stories can be believed, barely keeps body and soul
together and faces debt. He doesn’t have in him to be mean, which puts him in
contrast with his rival. Rich farmer Mr. Cheeseacre prides himself on his dunghills
and can’t stop talking about his money or expecting prerogatives because of his
tin.
After the brisk
set-up, Trollope has Alice provide George with campaign funds even before their
marriage. John Gray cares for Alice to the point where he works behind the
scenes to give George the money from his own pocket in order to protect Alice’s
fortune. How this plays out makes compelling reading, the kind of story a
hardcore reader can focus on, in deep concentration, happily diverted from outbreak and
stable geniuses
Alice’s obstinacy
borders on perversity and thus tries the reader’s patience once in a while.
These moments are balanced by Aunt Greenow’s juggling of swains and Lady
Glencora’s breezy selfishness. Cora is too young, beautiful and self-absorbed
to understand and love her husband in a mature way, but she has a devilish
sense of humor and jaunty irreverence that appeal to me. Trollope’s male
characters are often pleasantly blah, but George Vavasor is one of Trollope’s
most spectacular villains and John Gray actually grows in the course of the
novel.
I highly
recommend this novel which Tony wrote
about the time he wrote the masterpieces The Small House at Allington and The Last Chronicle of Barset.
I read the LAST Palliser book for this prompt and have also started watching the 1994 series. Yes, production values have improved over the past decades. But the costumes are fantastic. I didn't want to blog about it until I'd watched the entire series, so I have many hours left to watch. :D I think it is very well cast too except for Mr. Kennedy. He is, to my mind, all wrong.
ReplyDeleteOOPS - Correction! The 1974 series.
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