The irony of that socialist Roy Hattersley being a snob seems to have been lost (as was much else on this undeniably educated man) on the man himself. Hey ho. I remember a television programme celebrating the novels of Anthony Trollope in which the editing had cleverly inserted Hattersley right after an enthusiastic commendation of Trollope by John Major. Hattersley ventured that Trollope was enjoyed by people who didn't really like/understand literature. Now that I have read The Warden, I am afraid that I must confess myself of Major's persuasion. I must also repeat my confession that I find much of Dickens rather de trop. Hey ho.
The Warden is the first of the Barchester novels and I was rather surprised to find it witty, readable and rather enchanting. There is none of Dickens' intricacy and hectoring. Does this make me a bad person - or perhaps a mildly thick one? Hey ho. How about this on the act of writing:
It is indeed a matter of thankfulness that neither the historian nor the novelist hears all that is said by their heroes or heroines. Or how would three volumes or twenty suffice! In the present case so little of this sort have I overheard, that I live in hopes of finishing my work within 300 pages and of completing that pleasant task - a novel in one volume.
No comments:
Post a Comment