The Bertrams

by Anthony Trollope

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Genres: Classics, Fiction, 19th Century, British Literature, Victorian, Literature, English Literature

184 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1859

About the author

Anthony 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_...

Reviews

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although Trollope had already published the first three titles in his well-received Chronicles of Barsetshire series, The Bertrams appeared relatively early in the author's career. Much of it allows the author to display his future prowess. Unfortunately, much of it is also a slog - at least to me. Early in the novel the main characters are found visiting Jerusalem, and later in the novel two of the characters visit Cairo. As Trollope himself had visited these places in his position as inspector for the post office, the descriptions are a bit more detailed than interested me. They may have been very interesting to Trollope's audience at the time of publication.

Trollope can be counted on for a love story, and most of his novels have romantic elements. I didn't especially care for the way he handled those (yes, plural) here. Money - both the plenty and the lack - also makes a frequent appearance in his novels. Here, it was a central part of some of the characters decisions. Trollope has been accused of being a feminist. He seems better able than many of his time (or ours, for that matter) to understand and portray the woman's view.

It seems to me that it is sometimes very hard for young girls to be in the right. They certainly should not be mercenary; they certainly should not marry paupers; they certainly should not allow themselves to become old maids. They should not encumber themselves with early, hopeless loves; nor should they callously resolve to care for nothing but a good income and a good house. There should be some handbook of love, to tell young ladies when they may give way to it without censure.

and

Caroline was about to speak, but was stopped by the expression on her aunt’s face. Ladies have little ways of talking to each other, with nods and becks and wreathed smiles, which are quite beyond the reach of men; and in this language aunt Mary did say something as she passed which gave her niece to understand that the coming interview would not consist merely of the delights which are common among lovers.

Although Trollope's humor can be glimpsed in this latter quote, there wasn't enough of it throughout. I will never be sorry to have read a Trollope novel, but if this had been my first, or even the second, I might not have such a burning desire to read them all. I am hard-pressed to rate it higher than 3 stars.

[Cynthia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Trollope wrote “The Bertrams” fairly early in his writing career and to me it felt different from his usual fare. Of course there was his theme of boy meets girl, he/they fall in love, boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy eventually wins girl. The emotion seemed more raw though. In “Bertrams” Trollope also threw in some exotic locales such as Jerusalem and Egypt. On the surface this can seem boring but Trollope was always so good at looking under his character’s skin to their psychology, their emotions, and motivations. His writing never gets old for me and compared to some of today’s harsher literature and even harsher current political/financial/emotional climate reading Trollope feels like a conversation with a trusted friend. He never lets you down.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Bertrams is Anthony Trollope's sixth novel (of 47), and one of his better efforts. Although the book came in for criticism for all its travel scenes (it goes to the Middle East twice during the course of the action), it is an excellent character study of a man, George Bertram, who had reason to expect that the world would beat a path to his door. It does not. He falls in love with a beautiful young woman, but it comes to naught; and she marries his friend instead -- a man who had shown himself to be more successful in the ways of the world.

But this is a book about second chances. both for George, for his former fiancee Caroline, and for his friend Arthur Wilkinson, a poor clergyman. Trollope plays God, and does so with some grace. There is no deus ex machina to make everything right again, this not being a perfect world. The Bertrams ends on a somewhat somber key. I had expected a more happy ending, though I believe the subdued ending fit in better with the overall tone of the book.

I am in the process of reading all of Trollope's novels in the Yahoo! Anthony Trollope group. So far I have read approximately half of them. I regard Trollope as perhaps the most underrated writer in English literature, and a real joy to read, even in his lesser efforts.

[Leslie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trollope, even this early in his writing career, was astonishingly good at depicting people who make really bad life decisions, at getting in their heads and allowing us to understand their obsessions, their need for control, their self-destructive rigidity, their stubborn adherence to patterns of behaviour that can not end well. He's also really good at showing how relationships break down, at narrating the gradual descent into dysfunction and damage in human relationships.

[Becky · Rating 3 out of 5]

First sentence: This is undoubtedly the age of humanity — as far, at least, as England is concerned.



Premise/plot: The Bertrams chronicles the adventures and misadventures of three men: George Bertram, Arthur Wilkinson, and Sir Henry Harcourt. The novel, as a whole, has a feel of a proverb or two--for better or worse.



George Bertram starts off the novel as an academic success. But school is now behind him, his future awaits. And with each month that future seems dimmer not brighter. He doesn't know what to do next. Should he enter the church and become a clergyman? Should he become a lawyer? Whose advice should he take? His rich uncle's advice? his friends? a beautiful woman that he just met? his own heart?


Arthur Wilkinson is disappointed that he didn't do better at school, that the results of his last exams didn't go as well as he hoped. It looks like it will definitely be the church for him, but, he's not hopeful that he'll do well enough to marry. When his father dies, he does get a living, and it's enough to support his mother and sisters. But not his mother, sisters, wife, and future children--should he stop dreaming of his own happiness?


Sir Henry Harcourt is confident. But is he overly confident?! He feels that his bright future is a sure thing. He knows he'll be a big, big, big success. He knows that all his dreams will come true. He knows he'll be a SOMEBODY in this world. He knows that everyone around him will look up to him and respect him and maybe just maybe be a bit jealous of him.


There are two heroines in this novel. Adela Gauntlet is the neighbor and most special friend of Arthur Wilkinson. Any fool could see that she loves him madly, unconditionally. She's his for the taking. But will he ever propose? Will Arthur's stubbornness keep them both miserable? Caroline Waddington is the beautiful woman that George Bertram happens to meet on his travels. The two fall in love in the Middle East. It is her advice he follows. She can't imagine herself marrying a clergy man! So he decides for the law instead. But will these two get their happily ever after? Not if Harcourt has his way. He's super-impressed by his friend's fiancee. He just has to get to know her better! Now Caroline, unlike Adela, has a flaw. And it's a flaw that she shares with her grandfather and with Harcourt. That flaw is a LOVE OF MONEY and a longing to be thought of as GREAT. Will Caroline throw away her chance for happiness because she wants too much?



My thoughts: Normally I don't find Trollope's novels too wordy, in need of great editing, but I might make an exception with The Bertrams. I felt there were whole chapters--whole sections--that didn't really contribute much to the story. Perhaps because I felt such a huge disconnect with the main characters. These were characters that were--with a few exceptions--not that pleasant to spend time with. I didn't find many kindred spirits in this one. And the book was a journey in more than one way. It wasn't just a figurative rambling journey with characters that I didn't care much for. It was a literal journey as well. George goes on two journeys. One journey is at the beginning of the novel. It takes him to the middle east; one of the places he spends a good amount of time in is Jerusalem and its surrounding areas. The second journey is towards the end of the novel. It takes him to Egypt. Trollope weighs down his novel with descriptions of these "exotic" places, tourists attractions, and local curiosities. Let's just say that his descriptions of the local residents are not politically correct.

[Arya · Rating 5 out of 5]

So good! If you love character driven fiction and psychological realism with a heavy dose of romance and tragedy, then this steady, slowly unfurling drama might be for you! Beautifully written, wonderfully bleak.

[Jim Linsa · Rating 5 out of 5]

So...I'm really not a Goodreads person. But then, what kind of a person am I? I've just read the 37 reviews of The Bertrams which Goodreads has to offer, and I find the novel did not affect me in the way of any of the 37 others who have bothered to say what they think about it, nor did it affect any of them in the way it affected me. Trollope himself doesn't seem to have much to say about it either, other than his opinion that the plot is "more than ordinarily bad," and that it, along with Castle Richmond, is one of his two novels that "came a cropper." That's interesting. I wonder why he felt that way? He doesn't really explain. I've said in the past that Trollope reminds me of Tolkien. Today, he reminds me of Bob Dylan, who once remarked that in his early days in New York he didn't care what he said. The words just came out. They spoke themselves. Probably true of most people, but not something that most would find acceptable to admit about themselves. Dylan could admit it, revel in it, which was one thing that made Dylan who he was. I don't think Trollope thought of himself that way (how would I know? In his autobiography he makes a point of it not being about him personally, or his thoughts and his feelings). I imagine the man was particularly low on self-knowledge, and his comment that The Bertrams was one of his two worst failures probably supports that interpretation.

Time for a new paragraph. When I belch I can still taste the smell of the rhododendron compost I spent most of the afternoon shoveling into bags and loading into Ginny's Subaru.

I particularly liked, was interested in, was affected by, was compelled by The Bertrams, which is why I have given it five stars. I hate stars. I wish you could fucking write a review on Goodreads without having to give stars to it. What difference does it make how much I liked the book? How many words should a "reviewer" devote to the explicit description of the tremors of pleasure that came their way in the process of absorbing the waves of enjoyment by which they were overcome?

I dunno. Here's how I see it, and here's how I think Trollope intended it without even consciously understanding his own feelings. The story is about the love between a passionate man and a frigid woman. I don't have that great a memory, but I've come across Trollopian treatments of frigidity in others of his novels, I just can't quote passages and titles off the top of my head. Passion and frigidity were two of his most consistent themes. Sexual relationships between men and women consistently drove his plots, even though, given the historical period, it all took place beneath the surface. Or maybe it's a frigid man and a passionate woman. It hardly matters, because either way it is an excellent unfolding of the archetypal conflict between ice and fire. If ever there was an author seemingly without a metagame, strenuously disinterested in archetypes, it would be Trollope. But there it is. The book begins in the Holy Land. George Bertram is dwelling in The Garden of Eden, secure in his trust in God and ready to devote his life to serving God as a clergyman, when he meets the stunningly beautiful Caroline, who hands him an apple in which is contained her opinion that the life of a clergyman is insufficient, unexceptional, beneath any man in whom she would be sexually interested. The way it's phrased is "being interested in marrying." And in an instant George throws over giving himself to the clergy, and asks her to marry him, i.e., which in Victorian vernacular is the euphemism for having sex.

Done. And so follows the course of their love, which seems to be true, in the most unsuccessful and protractedly painful manner imaginable. His love of God is shattered, he is thrown out of Eden, and his passionate nature is gradually frozen to death by Caroline's insidiously frigid allure. But what is purely Trollopian, and his greatest strength, is that as the reader you just don't quite know what to make of it. It turns into one of the most powerful love stories I've ever read. Talk about delayed gratification. The foreplay to the foreplay is excruciating, and the final resolution to their doomed lovemaking resolves nothing, and for that matter, doesn't come at the end.

The end is instructive, however. Trollope begins the last chapter by declaring that he'd just as soon skip it. It does a very poor job of ending the book, because this is a story that needs to be left hanging. To me it didn't matter. In my mind there's a different "ending." Perhaps several different "endings." I don't rely on Trollope to know how this incendiary history of two particularly tragic lovers is supposed to come out. Certainly not happily.

So there. That's my take on it. There's a good deal more to the novel. It's a full course Trollopian feast. The relationship between George (who begins the story orphaned) and his miserly uncle is a rich character study. There are the ever present faults of all of Trollope's novels. Verbosity. Ingrained racism. The predictable subplot mirroring the main plot in reverse.

It's all there. The thing with Trollope is that you take his fictional work as a whole. It's not that productive to say that this one is better than that one. I didn't care much for The Eustace Diamonds, which was one of his most successful books. I cared a lot for The Bertrams, which was one of the least successful. And ultimately I cared a lot about George and Caroline. And I'm sure Trollope did too, although later in his career he seems to have forgotten about that.

[Jo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kind of an odd one if enjoyable in my Trollope journey so far. The novel begins with introducing two young men, Arthur Wilkinson and George Betram and two young ladies, Adela and Caroline. Initially we spend far more time with Arthur, his disappointment at university and eventual profession as a clergyman but then he disappears for a large part of the book and only makes sporadic appearances throughout the novel. Yes, the book is called The Bertrams but it did seem rather odd to imply he was going to be a major character and then virtually ignore him.

The second unusual but interesting thing in this novel is the amount of travelogue it has. Trollope traveled quite extensively and many of his novels feature Europe, he has novels set in Prague and Australia and he wrote travel essays. In this novel though, George visits Jerusalem and Cairo and particularly in the former there is a lot of detail about the city and its surroundings -all very enjoyable and interesting especially in a nineteenth century context (although the narrator’s opinions about Muslim women seems mean spirited), but not something you see very often in his work. There are also a pair of characters introduced late in the day who seem extraneous to the story and the tone of the ending is a little odd.

However, in George Bertram we have a character to root for, we have the usual array of fascinating and amusing female characters and a plot involving a marriage and an inheritance that keeps us guessing throughout. The narrator inserts himself frequently as is Trollope’s wont and something I love about his novels and the insight into nineteenth century travel and different parts of the world is fascinating. Another novel of his I can highly recommend.

[Jem Bloomfield · Rating 4 out of 5]

An unusual Trollope novel - a blend of satire, cynicism, the usual loved-and-lost plot, with a journey to Jerusalem and an old miser thrown. If you can stomach the casual racism, the travel writing is a fascinating glimpse of the period (including romantic believers in the Holy Land, sceptical archaology fans and a foolish couple who adopt local dress and feel they totally "get" the local culture).

It's rather more bitter and cynical than a lot of Trollope novels, and begins with a central character failing to get the exam results he wanted - a touch I found surprisingly modern. Lots of the expected heavy stuff about young men, and destiny, and the importace of hard work. Overall, a splendid read, if not exactly what I expected when I picked it up.

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very entertaining earlyish novel by Trollope, containing everything I like about this likeable author. We get the well-meaning but deeply flawed main characters, and the shaggy plot that is interesting enough to drive the reader forward but loose enough to allow long passages of character development and surprising digressions. We follow George Bertram and his childhood friend Arthur Wilkinson, who are decent and human and believably self-sabotaging as they strive to find their place (morally, professionally, and romantically) in this world. Side note: In a huge departure for Trollope, a significant section of this novel does not take place in England, but in the Middle East! These sections are problematic! But absolutely fascinating. In most of his novels, his characters never leave London, except for a weekend in the country for fox hunting. How thrilling to see them confront moral crises on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem.

[ValeReads Kyriosity · Rating 4 out of 5]

My favorite Trollope thus far. Never once wanted to throw it in the crack of doom. Very funny in places. A couple favorite quotes:

The young man's idea of a pleasant neighbour is of course a pretty girl. What the young ladies' idea may be I don't pretend to say. But it certainly does seem to be happily arranged by Providence that the musty fusty people, and the nicy spicy people, and the witty pretty people do severally assemble and get together as they ought to do.

This is just a little side vignette in The Bertrams that cracked me up. A clergyman has negotiated fare for his party across a river. Midway, the boatman tried to raise the price:

And now how did it behove an ardent missionary to act in such a contest with a subtle Egyptian? How should the eloquence of the church prevail over this Eastern Mammon? It did prevail very signally. The soldier of peace, scorning further argument in words with such a crafty reis, mindful of the lessons of his youth, raised his right hand, and with one blow between the eyes, laid the Arab captain prostrate on his own deck.
"There," said he, turning to Wilkinson, "that is what we call a pastoral visitation in this country. We can do nothing without it."

I know of pastors who've had to get physical dragging a drunk parishioner out of a bar or confronting an abusive husband, but this takes the cake! 😂😂😂

LibriVox edition with an American 😞 reader. He was tolerable, I suppose, and one must be grateful for anyone generous enough to do a solo recording, especially of such a long book, but I still can't be brought to think that his eyes are particularly fine.

[Diane · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another great story, the part about visiting the Old City of Jerusalem was so real to me since my April visit to Israel. The Bertrams are two brothers, polar opposites about money and its use. Sir Lionel's son George and Caroline Waddington meet on the Jerusalem tour and fall in love. Of course, there will be problems. I loved this novel about travel, money, greed, love, and loss.

[Liedzeit Liedzeit · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is not one of the more popular novels by Trollope. 350 ratings as opposed to 17.000 for Barchester. Quite a difference. And indeed the novel has some serious faults. The author himself said it was “more than ordinarily bad”.

The main problem of the book is that the conflict between the two characters who are destined to marry each other is a bit constructed. So young George Bertram (there is also an old rich uncle George), falls in love with his cousin Caroline (and one wonders, why cousins always have to fall in love in Victorian novels). It is not entirely clear that she returns his feelings. She agrees to marry him but only after he has made it in the world. He decides to become a lawyer (after having toyed with the idea to become a clergyman). But and this is the first surprise, he does not really make it. He writes books instead one entitled The Romance of Scripture but this does not count as a worldly success. He writes a frustrated letter to his fiancée after two years and she has nothing better to do than to show this letter to a mutual friend. And this act is all that is needed to cause the break-up.

She marries the successful friend, Henry, instead without an iota of love and becomes in due time utterly unhappy. Our George, of course, is also unhappy. But he visits Egypt and on the way back he nearly traps himself into marrying a nice widow (who by the way is one of the more lively characters in the novel).

Cousin has left his husband and lives in the house of her grandfather (who is the above mentioned uncle). Her husband who lost his position in the mean time hopes to inherit but the old George leaves his fortunes to establish a college. Very nice. So the man kills himself. Which sounds like an easy solution but is not. The cousins marry eventually but are childless and all Trollope can say is that they were not unhappy.

There is also a subplot where a friend (and also cousin), Arthur, becomes a poor clergyman because his grades in Oxford were not as good as George’s (who received double firsts whatever that means). He cannot marry his love because he is so poor. This woman, Adele, is not only lovely but in contrast to all other characters also not dumb. She tries to persuade Caroline for example to take all the blame and make it up with George again. They do end up in matrimony.


It is not easy to explain why the novel is as great as it is. First of all, and I said this before, I feel that I can totally trust him. Whatever he decides to do with his plot, I follow him. There is no false suspense. “I abhore mystery. I would fain, were it possible, have my tale run through from its little prologue to the customary marriage in its last chapter, with all smoothness incidental to ordinary life. I have no ambition to surprise my reader.” So, for example, there is not made a secret out of the fact that rich uncle is in fact nor a bachelor as everyone thinks but in fact a widower with a grand child.

There is an excellent discussion of George and Arthur on atheism (where Trollope seems to be on the side of George).

Or this little piece: “The tories – I still prefer the name, as being without definite meaning; the direct falsehood in the title of Conservative amounts almost to a libel....”

And then my favorite passage, he talks about George after his love has left him finds consolation in work:

“So he set himself to work– not a lazy, listless reading of counted pages; not history at two volumes a week, or science at a treatise a day; but to such true work as he found it in him to do, working with all his mind and all his strength.”

[Mbuye · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trollope himself had rated this one of the weakest of his novels:
“I do not know that I have ever heard it well spoken of even by my friends, and I cannot remember that there is any character in it that has dwelt in the minds of novel readers,” he had observed about ‘The Bertrams’ (1859).

In this he does himself gross injustice, for ‘The Bertrams' is by far the most intensely psychological study of character among all his novels relating to money and worldly success. Trollope, of all the Victorians, was the most conscious of money and its effects on men and women (the others took the line that in polite society ideal manners, morals and behaviour mattered more than money), but nowhere does Trollope analyse the subject of the effects of money, status and power so critically as in ‘The Bertrams.'

‘The Bertrams’ is the story of how, with so much promise, almost every person in the book, old or young, man or woman, shipwrecks his/her life, and in what manner they set themselves to right the damage. The wrong choices, the wrong decisions, the false dreams, and how others suffer as a result, forms the impetus of the plot.

The essential plot, the theme, even the characters, are all about wealth and worldly success. It is not enough that a man should earn what might keep body and soul together, not get into debt, and perhaps assume responsibility for a family. No; he must make a splash, “his name should be in all men's mouths;” and he should reckon himself happy with half a million pounds. That is what Mr George Bertram the elder is worth, and that sum is what everyone in the book has their beady eyes on. Well, almost everybody.

The Vicar of Hurst Staple, Arthur Wilkinson, one of the three heroes of the novel, the least successful, but in his quiet way, the happiest man, certainly does not. Nor does his good friend and cousin, George Bertram, the main man of the story, and the elder Mr Bertram’s nephew. Whether this is because George is pigheaded, or because he has noble instincts, is for you to determine as you get deeper into the story.

Throughout his life, Arthur will play second fiddle to George, but then, life has bestowed upon him the great gifts of humility and happiness. Our third hero, Henry Harcourt, is a man a couple of years senior to George and Arthur, hard at work studying to be a barrister, and in every respect far more worldly and practical than the other two. Of the three men, therefore, he makes the most of his chances, and for a while, he has it all - power, success and wealth. Indifference to wealth is not a charge to be laid at the door of Mr Henry Harcourt (later elevated into the knighthood), nor of his wife, the Lady Caroline Harcourt, who jilts young Bertram after a three-year engagement to marry Sir Henry.

If money is what drives the plot forward, the ostensible main plot is about the romance of the three young men. Arthur Wilkinson is in love with the incredibly gentle, loving, the flawless Adela Gauntlet. He is reluctant to marry her, because by the terms on which he has been gifted the living of the parsonage is that two thirds of his income be paid to his mother. Now Mrs Wilkinson is a fledgling Mrs Bishop Proudie of ‘Barchester Towers.’ Not only does she take the money for granted, she assumes that the vicarage itself is her own property, that she is the appointed and anointed Vicaress, and that her son is her curate, nothing more. So - end of romance. The romance of Henry Harcourt, George Bertram and Caroline Waddington takes a much more circuitous and very thorny route, as the three have very different aspirations in life.

‘The Bertrams’ has sometimes been described as a travel book, but it is not quite that. There is no doubt but that travel does play a large role both at the beginning and the second half of the novel. Trollope’s descriptions of Egypt and Jerusalem seem to take the place of the hunting and shooting that are an integral part of any Trollope story. Modern readers might be disturbed by the disparaging, even racist, remarks about dervishes or attitudes to prayer that he describes, but the novel was written even before the American Civil War, just to give a perspective of the timeline, and the British Empire saw almost all peoples and habits as inferior to themselves. The word 'racist’ had not even come into general usage in the sense that we attach to it.

Trollope, despite his many novels based on the Church of England, and its intra church dissensions, as well with the rapid growth of Methodist and other nonConformist sects in highly conservative areas, is not a religious writer. However, the Jerusalem chapters introduce a new theme: religion.

It is in Jerusalem that George Bertram has his epiphany, sitting alone in the Mount of Olives, that place sacred to all Christians, and to them alone. As he muses over the Biblical places where the Lord walked and prayed, Bertram feels as if he had had a spiritual experience of an exalted nature, and he is seized by the impulse to dedicate his life to the Church. As Trollope admits, this impulse didn't stay with him very long, but while it did, it seems to have had a powerful sway over his youthful imagination.

By far the greatest influence in Jerusalem as well as in the novel itself, is the introduction of Trollope’s ‘donna primissima,’ who is the undoubted first lady of the novel as well. Miss Caroline Waddington. Beautiful, cold and sadly practical, she tells George Bertram that she “could never be a parson’s wife.” And so George’s future is settled. Indeed, the misfortunes that dog Bertram seem to arise from the fact that he turned his back on the vision vouchsafed to him. Not until he himself acknowledges this with a kind of sad humility, is there any change in his life. Even then, the happiness that crowns the end, is in itself a sad happiness.

There are several subplots, which follow the lives of the minor players. In these minor roles are some of Trollope's great comic characters, the best of them being, to me at least, George's father, Colonel Sir Lionel Bertram. In fact, almost all of them play the part of comics, acting as counterfoil to the grimness of the novel. But the comedy is as intrinsic to the main plot in a way that Dickens’s comic scenes are not, although they might relieve the tension briefly. For Trollope, nobody is introduced merely as a figure of fun, not even his sharp practice lawyers. Their actions and even their brief conversations impact tremendously on the main story. Take the wealthy miser, old Mr George Bertram, young George's uncle. At his death, this is Trollope's eulogy:

“He died full of years, and perhaps in one, and that the most usual acceptation of the word, full of honour. He owed no man a shilling, had been true to all his engagements, had been kind to his relatives with a rough kindness: he had loved honesty and industry, and had hated falsehood and fraud: to him the herd, born only to consume the fruits, had ever been odious; that he could be generous, his conduct in his nephew’s earliest years had plainly shown: he had carried, too, in his bosom a heart not altogether hardened against his kind, for he had loved his nephew, and, to a certain extent, his niece also, and his granddaughter.

But in spite of all this, he had been a bad man. He had opened his heart to that which should never find admittance to the heart of man. The iron of his wealth had entered into his very soul. He had made half a million of money, and that half-million had been his god—his only god—and, indeed, men have but one god.”

This man had been no Silas Marner with his Eppie. But George Bertram – both George Bertrams -- are flesh and blood men, whom we meet and take a strong dislike to until we get to know them a little better. In other words, of all his books, Trollope's ‘Bertrams' is the most natural, the most realistic and almost the most instinctively appreciative of human folly and human goodness.

[Pgchuis · Rating 4 out of 5]

George Bertram decides to become a barrister, since his rich uncle has made it clear that George will not be his heir. George's friend, Arthur (a minister), decides not to ask Adela to marry him because he believes he cannot afford it. George travels to Jerusalem to meet his father, the unreliable and selfish Sir Lionel and there meets and becomes engaged to Caroline, but their romance is broken off.

I delayed reading this novel because I thought it was set in Jerusalem, but in fact only a few of the chapters are set there (with a later section describing a trip to Egypt). Some of the observations about what the church has done to Jerusalem were very interesting and George's spiritual experience on Mount of Olives was quite moving, but there were many passages describing the local populations in terms which are wholly unacceptable today. In general in Trollope I have found references (usually to Jews) which grate, but this novel took things to a whole other level and made me understand that the Victorians did clearly believe that cleanliness is next to godliness - I think Trollope managed to describe almost every non-Christian character as dirty at some point.

That aside, I found this story very enjoyable. Adela was a delight. George and Caroline got what they deserved and then for a moment it looked as if Trollope was going to bless them with a second chance, but the very ending shows that he was not quite able completely to forgive Caroline for marrying without intending to love, which seems to be the unforgivable sin for Trollope. Miss Todd and Sir Lionel provided some comic relief, although I didn't really enjoy the chapter describing the trip home from Egypt - Mrs Cox and Mrs Price didn't seem to fit into the novel at all. I'm glad Mrs Wilkinson was humbled.

[Brett · Rating 1 out of 5]

I generally really enjoy the quietly rambling domestic soap operas of Trollope for reasons I can't quite explain, considering how often the behavior of the main characters frustrates me. But this one had three strikes & it's out: I know as well as the next person that "they were different times" & "it's how things were back then", but that just isn't good enough when you're talking about a book mostly centered around visiting the Middle East while also flippantly hurling the most appalling insults at the *-people who live there-*. "It's so beautiful in Egypt, at least in the cities that are mostly European....just think how enjoyable visiting will be once they become mostly English." "Those filthy Muslims in Jerusalem won't even let us into their mosques, can you imagine!? Also, the only way to deal with them is to assault them. You can't bargain with an Arabic person unless you're willing to hit them." "Turkey would be magnificent if there were less Turks there." "It's awful the way the 'Jewesses' wear dirty scarves over their faces.... Almost as awful as how dirty their actual faces are." "The only thing uglier than a Middle Eastern person's face/body is the bizarre sounds they make. Why can't they all just learn the Queen's English already?" NOPE. Nope nope nope. There are other pieces of the plot etc. that I really disliked, but they hardly even feel worth mentioning after all that. Stick to the Barsetshire Chronicles.

[aime · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a very atypical Trollope novel. The cynicism and unremitting bleakness can really put off fans of Trollope's comic novels.

That said, it is a powerful novel. It has a little too much exposition and moralising by the narrator at times, but the characterisations of Caroline Waddington and George Bertram are excellent. Trollope succeeds in making them and their plight believable, even though they are perhaps the most stubborn couple he ever portrayed. I found their 'breakup' scene terribly poignant. Surprisingly, this is one of the few occasions in which Trollope's intrusive narrator actually works well in this novel.

Trollope described this as one of his worst novels, but I disagree (and Trollope was never really a good judge of his own work!). Its rawness and cynicism gives it a power that isn't matched by his later, more polished novels. It's also one of the very few works by Trollope that actually moved me to tears.

It's also interesting to see how Caroline is actually a prototype of Trollope's other female characters who marry for worldly reasons instead of love - Lady Julia Ongar (The Claverings), Lady Laura Kennedy (Phineas novels) come to mind - and live to regret it.

A pity that this novel is out of print, but thank heavens for Gutenberg's free e-text!

[Lucy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Even for a die-hard Trollope fiend like me, there are some flaws in this novel. He does press home his point rather more emphatically and more often than necessary. And, for modern readers, his attitudes to Arabs in particular are distasteful - I'd like to think he was satirising the contemporary view, but I fear he was sharing it. But as ever, his people, faults and all (plenty of them, here) jump alive off the page. Anyone can recognise the youthful idealism of the hero, we've all known a Miss Todd, and his second couple share a typically heart-warming Trollope romance. This isn't just one for completists, though, it's well worth reading on its own merits.

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am currently reading this with a group where we post summaries of each chapter and then discuss them. Oh my, I was wrong about this as I originally gave it three stars. I just upped it to four as I appreciate it ever so much more. It is a departure for AT as some of it reads like a travelogue, but after all, reading about the rigors of a Holy Land tour back in Victorian times can be fascinating. In addition, the minor characters are amusing in Trollopian manner and the major ones are portrayed in all their depth. It is a fine read.

[Bonnie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trollope is underrated. At his best, he is a cross between Dickens and Balzac. I've pretty much plowed through everything he's written. His plots, like those of Dickens, are fairly predictable and involve lovers overcoming obstacles to finally achieve a life of wedded bliss, but the social commentary is priceless.

[Margaret · Rating 2 out of 5]

Unusually for Trollope, this is set partly in and around Jerusalem. Unfortunately, this just means that Trollope's insularity and racism, which are why I don't like his travel writing, are to the fore, and so I didn't enormously care for the novel as a whole.

[Dan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is surprisingly cynical for one of Trollope's earlier works. The discussion on religion is more meaty than anything I've read so far. George Bertram's indecision and lack of direction ring very true.

[C.J. Hill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fairly straightforward Romance format by Trollope with lots of lessons in this one: be happy with what you've achieved; don't presume you know what others are thinking; marry for love and respect etc. etc.

[Surreysmum · Rating 3 out of 5]

According to Trollope's autobiography (1) he didn't think much of this novel, and was particularly critical of his plot and (2) it didn't sell at all well, unlike his other 1859 work, Dr. Thorne.

Well, Trollope may not always have been a particularly good critic of his own work, but I'm inclined to go along with him in this case. The structure of the book is definitely awkward; there are long stretches - including the first half-dozen chapters - dealing not with the nominal protagonist, George Bertram, but with a secondary protagonist, Arthur Wilkinson. Though we're obviously invited to a compare and contrast exercise, it doesn't really work all that well. The plots are insufficiently parallel, and the two plots just seem to bump into each other now and again instead of illuminating one another in any meaningful way. In both plots, one member of a possible couple (in one the man, in the other the woman) hold off the coupling because of financial worries. Though they both eventually overcome their fears and couple up without the financial worries being fully resolved, I don't think Trollope ever really makes a good case that the financial worries were worth ignoring.

Beyond plot problems, however, my chief quarrel with this book is with the characters. Unlike most of the others I've read so far, this one doesn't have a sane, fallible, generous middle-aged male at its centre, and we really feel the lack. The principal male and principal female (George Bertram Jr. and Caroline) play a sort of intensified pride and prejudice game that results in unhappiness for both (she holds him off out of economic insecurity, and he pushes her away out of unreasonable jealousy and pride; she marries inappropriately, and everybody's Terribly Miserable). It's hard to like either one of them. The old miser uncle, also named George Bertram, could have actually had a bit of character arc to him - there were occasional tantalizing hints that his better nature was overcoming his inbuilt avarisce - but no, his real feelings had to be largely suppressed in favour of building up the suspense over the revelation of his will at the end. Trollope does cleverly pull a bit of a fast one there, because he has his readers hoping that the will provide some sort of ex machina resolution to everyone's misery, so there's a bit of genuine anxiety. However, the will's more or less predictable based on previous events, so it falls on the Nasty Wrong Husband (tm) to provide the ex machina resolution himself by getting depressed and "destroying himself", as they so politely put it. I don't think even Trollope really believed that was fully in character for the self-confident, flashy, selfish Sir Henry Harcourt. It was just too obviously necessary to bring the ship into its happy-ending port. The secondary couple are all right, but she's a bit twee, and his moral struggle - putting his mother in her place when she gets a bit uppity and wants to actually run the household she's had for all of the young man's life - left a bad, bad taste for anyone who's left Victorian gender-roles far behind. That all said, there are a couple of "aunty" figures who are pleasant and enjoyable.

The chief interest of this novel is its travelogue aspect. There are two trips in it. The first and longer one is to the Holy Land, where Trollope's disdainful colonialism (problematic) and distaste for touristy gimmicks (not problematic) are balanced by a couple of genuinely thoughtful passages of description, particularly of the Mount of Olives. In the second one, to Egypt, the abusive description and colonial disdain is harsher. He found Alexandria out-and-out horrible, and Cairo "crumbling" (except for the little English bit of it). The local men are uniformly described as dirty, and the Muslim women as very ugly behind their "bits of cloth". I got the impression that Trollope didn't enjoy this part of his actual trip much. He certainly didn't much like his trip into a pyramid! Nonetheless, and certainly for someone like myself who hasn't read much in the way of straight travel writing from this period, there was an interest in the direct reports, understanding that they came from a recent trip from a middle-level civil servant who probably did most of the "usual things".

Bit of a miss for Trollope, but he was, after all, churning out these novels on an alarmingly frequent schedule.

[Harald · Rating 4 out of 5]

Long-term engagements are a no-brainer.
Financial considerations put a bar to early happiness in this novel from 1859. We follow the careers and love lives of three male students from Oxford. The future prospects for each of them seem bright, but the sea is quickly becoming choppy.

George Bertram has a brilliant exam behind him, but his fiancee Caroline thinks he doesn't show enough interest in securing his livelihood. They break off the engagement after three years.

His friend Arthur agrees to take over his late father's position as a priest in return for his mother receiving most of the salary and managing the parsonage. Many years pass before he manages to propose to his childhood sweetheart Adela. Henry Harcourt throws himself into politics, but is unprepared for the day he loses his positions and his marriage to Caroline collapses.

The novel includes a number of other prominent characters, such as George's sleazy millionaire uncle and an always money-minded father. Their materialism has both provided fertile ground for George's strong opposition. On the women's side, too, there are striking personalities, although their room for action in the 1840s is clearly smaller than the men's.

In this large novel of over 500 pages - originally in three volumes - Trollope tackles a number of other themes. Initially, he targets the grading system at the university - completely in line with much of today's debates. He gently suggests that it should be easier for incompatible couples to divorce. Furthermore, he also looks at the significance of Darwinism's breakthrough for religious thinking in the 1840s and 1850s. Not least, we get an interesting picture of tourism in the Middle East, Jerusalem and Cairo, before the arrival of railways and the Suez Canal. Flirting on the steamships of the time went on much like on modern cruise ships.

[Patrick Hayes · Rating 3 out of 5]

A drama frames opportunities for the author to state his opinions on Jerusalem, Alexandria, Cairo, religion, and the desire of wealth over happiness. This is not a typical Anthony Trollope novel. It is not a particularly even or good novel.

A young man groomed for success, the youngest Bertram, has too much pride, as does his future bride. Each fervently loves the other, but is unwilling to speak their hearts on certain matters. This is the primary story from which all others spring. I was impressed that Trollope went in a surprising direction with these characters halfway through the book, but after this their futures become fairly predictable. This young man's father, Colonel Bertram, is a debtor to all and he attempts to woo another for money. He came across as an afterthought of a character, only filling space. The oldest Bertram, brother to the colonel and uncle to the youngest, has half a million pounds to his name and who will inherit his wealth becomes a major, if not "the" by the end of the book, plot point. He fleetingly appears, but his presence is constantly felt.

This was interesting to read for it being so unlike so many of the author's other books. In fact, its characters and their mindsets are very modern. What was shocking to read was the disdain for the settings and people of the Middle East. These sections should be read for their historical importance for point of view. They were difficult to get through.

Overall, this is a mishmash of a book that has me wanting to read more of Trollope, but books that are much more traditional of the author.

[Gilly Wilford · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trollope wrote this pretty much in the middle of the Barsetshire series, his most loved books. It is quite a contrast to those as it has none of the cosy familiarity of the English countryside and County families. It also highlights the need for the stability of money for a happy family life and the unhappiness and disaster that too much reliance on this can bring - a theme to which he was to return in the much more popular Small House at Allington.
I enjoyed the book simply because Trollope is such a consummate writer and eases the reader into his world by a clever use of words and phrases and good delineation of character. Unlike Dickens, his women are real and I love the little spurts of temper shown by Caroline when faced with the petty restrictions imposed on girls of her class at that time.
Some of the travel writing (which a critic has suggested was used to bulk the novel up to three volumes) seems a bit superfluous, although I was fascinated by the description of the whirling dervishes.
There are many fascinating strands to this story, including the difficulty of having a reprobate father and a miserly, controlling uncle or an overbearing mother.
I really wanted to know more about how the four main characters' lives worked out - which is certainly one of the hallmarks of a really good read.

[Christina Dudley · Rating 4 out of 5]

The opening chapter of The Bertrams leads you to believe Arthur Wilkinson will be the main character, but he dwindles into a minor subplot rapidly. Instead the brilliant if unsteady George Bertram takes precedence, even as he eclipses Wilkinson at school. Bertram's love life meets some obstacles, however, when he falls for the strong-minded Caroline Waddington, who very practically doesn't want to marry until they have an income they can live comfortably on.

Generally I found this one of the better second-tier Trollopes, but I do get so tired of the Victorian idea that people only fall in love once and can't get over it (at least the women can't seem to). It'd be so refreshing if one of these gals would decide to love the one she's with and just flourish. Jane Austen let Marianne Dashwood get over Willoughby, after all, and everyone was the better for it.

[Phil Atteberry · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a little known Anthony Trollope novel. It was written in 1958-9, when he was in the middle of the much better known Barchester Chronicles. This book has many of Trollope's story telling excellences, but it is marred by poor pace. Trollope was in the Middle East when he wrote at least part of this book. Thus his main characters travel to that part of the world, and when they do, the plot stops and we have many pages that read like a 19th century travelogue. It's not totally uninteresting, but it has no place in the novel. Because Trollope spends so many pages on the travelogue, the conclusion of the novel is truncated. I am a Trollope enthusiast, so I'm glad I read the book, but those wanting to get a taste of Trollope would be better served to try one of his better known novels.

[Sean O · Rating 3 out of 5]

Possibly the weakest Trollope novel I’ve read (and I’ve read a bunch.) This one is basically the cast of Friends: two women and three men, in their 20s, muddling through jobs, love, and family. The story includes not one, but two unnecessary trips to Egypt and Jerusalem (thanks to Trollope’s travels because of his day job as a post office official.) There are also some extra set pieces that don’t integrate well with the main story (a Whist party that exists to allow for one particularly funny joke.)

The main characters are all a bit tedious. And some of the minor characters threaten to steal the show. It’s really weird how this is the book written immediately after “Doctor Thorne” which is as tight as a drum. This one is a shaggy mess, but not without charm. Just…. A little… meh.