Classic with
Nature in the Title. This 1873 novel is the third of the six novels in the
Palliser series, supposedly Trollope’s “political novels.” Mercifully, unlike Can
You Forgive Her? and Phineas
Finn, there’s not much politics in this one though it is mainly about lies,
damned lies, and liars..
The Eustace
Diamonds – Anthony Trollope
The heroine of this story plays the part of the
anti-heroine on the lines of Becky
Sharp. Trollope primes us innocent readers with this introduction: “We will
tell the story of Lizzie Greystock from the beginning, but we will not dwell
over it at great length, as we might do if we loved her.” Uh-oh.
Lizzie filches a family heirloom, the gems referred to in
the title, after her titled husband dies of a broken heart due to her duplicities
about debts. Lizzie filching the diamonds prompts the family lawyer Mr. Camperdown to observe of her: “a dishonest,
lying, evil-minded harpy.” Lizzie the widow sets her marital sights on a poor
Irish peer who holds a minor government post, prompting the lord’s sister to
say of her: “a nasty, low, scheming, ill-conducted, dishonest little wretch.”
We readers have grown to like the blunt aunts that populate Victorian novels so
we listen closely and believe when Lizzie’s aunt Lady Linlithgow asserts Lizzie
is “about as bad as anybody ever was. She's false, dishonest, heartless, cruel,
irreligious, ungrateful, mean, ignorant, greedy, and vile! ... She's all that,
and a great deal worse.”
Indeed, the worst thing about Lizzie is her lying. Contra
the dictum, “I don’t lie unless it’s necessary,” Lizzie tells needless lies to
herself and others. In genuine drama queen fashion, her cockeyed vision of
romance and passion leads her to flagrant disregard for the truth and the
extravagant acting out of romantic parts. Despite her consummate acting ability
(which, the reader feels, Trollope admires, as if in wonder anybody could be so
bold and rash), her lies, however, land her in a peck of trouble when she perjures herself twice
during an investigation of the robbery of the Eustace diamonds. Her lying also
causes much trouble in her marital plans aimed at her cousin Frank Greystock
and the Irish peer Lord Fawn (who plays the part of Bambi to Lizzie’s Hunter).
Trollope’s larger point, though, touches on society’s tolerance
of lying. In this novel, people accept Lizzie’s lies by politely not calling
them lies. Even Lord Fawn’s sister who hates like Lizzie like poison doesn’t
use the word: “If she has told you falsehoods, of course you can break it off.”
Frank Greystock’s intended, goody-goody Lucy Morris, thinks “That Lizzie
Eustace was a little liar had been acknowledged between herself and the Fawn
girls very often,—but to have told Lady Eustace that any word spoken by her was
a lie, would have been a worse crime than the lie itself.”
Along with tolerance of lies and liars, among us walk
lots of folks who like liars for their audacity. Frank Greystock: “He knew that
his cousin Lizzie was a little liar,—that she was, as Lucy had said, a pretty
animal that would turn and bite;—and yet he liked his cousin Lizzie. He did not
want women to be perfect, …” Frank has his good points but I feel he should be
in the ranks of unreliable males such as thus joins the line-up of wobbly
Trollopian males like Charlie Tudor, Johnny Eames and Louis
Trevelyan.
The usual sub-plot in a Trollope novel is a comic romcom.
Not in this one. Positively alarming is the courting and engagement of Lucinda
Roanoake, a young American beautiful and brash, and Sir Griffin Tewett, a
swinish aristocrat.
"I don't like anybody or
anything," said Lucinda.
"Yes, you do;—you like
horses to ride, and dresses to wear."
"No, I don't. I like
hunting because, perhaps, some day I may break my neck. It's no use your
looking like that, Aunt Jane. I know what it all means. If I could break my
neck it would be the best thing for me."
"You'll break my heart,
Lucinda."
"Mine's broken long
ago."
Poor Lucinda! A fine example of Trollope the
psychologist looking at the dark side. Why people say Trollope is so comfy cozy
is beyond me.
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