The Small House at Allington: Introduction by A. O. J. Cockshut

This fifth novel in the Barsetshire chronicles has, as often with Trollope, an almost stupefyingly simple plot: Lily Dale is courted by the 'swell' Adolphus Crosbie who then, not one month after their engagement, drops her for the daughter of an earl. Lily is heartbroken but resolves she still loves Adolphus and therefore can accept no other man, even though a much worthier man soon presents himself in the person of John Eames.In a nutshell, that's all there is to it. But, as also always seems the case with Trollope, out of this simple plot he weaves a beautiful tale that keeps you turning pages although nothing much really happens (definitely not by today's standards). How so? For starters, Trollope is a master at analyzing and describing the thoughts and emotions of his characters (most of them ordinary people like you and me), which makes them leap of the page like real-life people you know in the flesh and, often as not, you find yourself identifying with one or more of the main characters, wishing them well and hoping they'll succeed in their endeavours as if they were your own. In this case too, although you know from the start that nothing will come of it, you cannot help but hope that Lily will give up her stubborn behaviour and accept the man that truly loves her.Secondly, altough in this case the main plot gives little room for mirth Trollope does introduce quite a lot of humour by means of the various subplots and secondary characters (the head-gardener Hopkins for instance, or earl De Guest). It's rarely the laugh-out-loud kind of humour (although there's a few hilarious scenes) but mostly rather subtle, which makes it none the less effective.Last but not least, Trollope writes in a very fluent, easy style, describing everything in plain everyday language which makes it all the more 'real' and accessible. And for the odd reference to classical literature or other you can simply refer to the excellent notes at the end.All in all, a very satisfying experience even though there's no happy end, making me start the sixth and last novel in the series ('The Last Chronicle of Barset') with that most odd mixture of feelings: happy to begin a new book that you know will be good, and simultaneously sad knowing it's the last in the series!

Lily Dale is sublimely happy when she becomes engaged to Adolphus Crosbie, assistant secretary in a government agency and a mortal Apollo to Lily. And Crosbie is happy too--while he is with Lily. But when he is invited to spend a week at Courcy Castle and is looked upon with favor by Lady Alexandrina De Courcy, the temptation to marry into a noble family is too much for him, and he becomes engaged for the second time in a few weeks.John Eames, a young government clerk, has loved Lily Dale for years. He longs to replace Crosbie in the jilted girl's affections, but she still loves Crosbie, despite his treachery. The ambitious Crosbie, however, soon finds that his aristocratic bride brings no money into the marriage, but maintains her expensive tastes. The marriage is a disaster from the start.As John Eames' fortunes rise and Crosbie's decline, the reader is led to believe, as all Lily's friends urge, that Eames will eventually win the heartbroken lass, but Lily stubbornly clings to her hopeless love.There are several subplots, some of them humorous, as Trollope's settings range from castle to rooming house, with vivid characters from varying social strata. As always, the characterizations are thorough and convincing. These are real people who behave realistically. Even when their actions seem surprising, they flow logically from the strong personal basis which the author has built into each character. Although the outcome is not nearly so pleasing as that of "Dr. Thorne," for instance, this book is a solidly enjoyable novel from one of the greatest literary series.

Trollope said, "I do not think that I have ever done better work," and while I wouldn't quite go that far, this is a surging return to form after the repetitive, narrow and contrived plots of Doctor Thorne and Framley Parsonage. Purely for craft, this would score 5 stars. Look at how Trollope weaves multiple story threads around a large cast and keeps the characterization consistent throughout. For example the squire and Mrs Dale, never managing to see eye to eye:"What! fires already?" said he. "I never have fires at the other house in the morning till the first of November. I like to see a spark in the grate after dinner.""I like a fire when I'm cold," said Mrs. Dale.Or the letter that Mrs Grantly writes to her daughter. Knowing Lady Dumbello, we see at once how she is likely to react to it and use it.Some critics have complained about the book's "darkness", presumably meaning that it isn't cosy enough. Prof James Kincaid took it to task for failing to observe "comic form" -- but that's what makes it good. Even the callow and empty-headed Eames, one of the least interesting characters, is slightly redeemed by the ending that veers away from expected cosy/comic form. I found Crosbie the most interesting character, flawed as he is, and I gather he and Lily Dale return in the last book. Hopefully Trollope won't fumble that ball.

Money was terribly important to Anthony Trollope who never quit his day job at the British Post Office but laboured industriously both at his novels and at his career in the British civil service.A typical Victorian civil servant in London worked from 10 to 4 for a little over a hundred pounds a year, wages with which a gentleman could pursue a comfortable life occupying a room in the city while dining at clubs, but wages at which he might not marry and raise a family without abandoning this high life. Having both required a much higher revenue, say a thousand a year. A family required a house not rooms, a carriage, not cabs, a housemaid for the wife not chores for the housewife. And there you know all you need to know of Adolphus Crowley, the man who jilts the novel's heroine, Lily Dale, when he learns she comes with no dowry.A hundred pounds a year also amounted to the wages of Doctor Crofts, a young country doctor with only poor patients. He feels it's not quite enough to allow him to pursue Bell, Lily's older sister. It was also the fantastic sum promised the wards of Hiram's Hospital in the earlier Barsetshire novel, the Warden. Johnny Eames, Lily Dale's other suitor, also belongs to the civil service but at somewhat under a hundred a year and lives in a boarding house in rather unpleasant company.And yet, money can't be everything. Lily Dale lives rent free with Bell and their widowed mother Mary in the small house of the title, while her bachelor uncle, the Squire of Allington whose land brings in some four thousand pounds a year, lives in the larger house. But when the childless uncle hints that their living there gives him some fatherly authority, the women refuse to recognize this and move out. On principle. We easily recognize Trollope in this careful working out of what actions are right and wrong, of how higher principles translate into practical everyday decisions.Trollope does paint his characters with more contrast here than in his other Barsetshire novels, making his villain a little more villainous than Sowerby in Framley Parsonage and his heroine Lily Dale purer than Mary Thorne in Doctor Thorne. But I can't say I liked Lily very much. I certainly sympathized with her plight and admired her fortitude, but I think Trollope idealized her too much and turned fortitude to stubborness. Fortunately, other characters make up for a priggish Lily.Since Trollope is Trollope, we end up sympathizing a little with the villain as he finds no solace in the woman for whom he left Lily. Uncle Christopher Dale relents somewhat in his position and acknowledges he loves his nieces, regardless of whatever duty he might or might not owe them. Johnny Eames, apparently more a more than slightly autobiographical character, grows up achieving something resembling manhood.And we meet Plantagenet Palliser, the hero of Trollope's other great series, the Palliser novels, who appears scandalously often with the young Lady Dumbello. What will we make of that, now?Vincent Poirier, Dublin

Love Trollope, hate this publisher’s edition. Poorly printed; terrible layout, size, and margins; so many typos and copy editing errors as to make this unreadable. Get another version.