Phineas Finn: The Irish Member (Paperback)

The core elements of the plot are fairly familiar: callow youth sets out to conquer the world and finds out that it's trickier than it looks. Impetuous young woman enters into marriage full of high hopes only to find out that she is stuck with a bad deal. But then, you don't read Shakespeare for plot. I wouldn't say that Trollope is Shakespeare. Still, it is impressive how much by way of character and situation both writes can milk out of a structure that is almost haphazard.

Other commentators have also noted that the ending to "Phineas Finn" is weak, but I don't see that as a crippling vice: I'm hard put to think of a really good novel whose ending is not weak.

One of the many notable facts about the cast of characters is its great range: we have the home folk in Ireland. We have a marvelous portrait of Finn's landlord, the law-copyist, and his employer, the successful barrister - in each case, along with their wives. We have a narrow-minded country squire and a feckless young playboy. And we have a sketch, brief and incomplete but still convincing, of the grandest peer in the realm.

Aside from the sheer breadth of reach, the other thing to be said about the cast is the extraordinary range of interesting women. Phineas, devil that he may be, catches the fancy of at least one back home in Ireland and three more in London. Trollope is often good with women and here in particular he shows remarkable sympathy and comprehension of what they are up against. And not least of the three is, of course, the remarkable Madame Max Goesler, who is surely in contention for recognition as the most remarkable Trollope character at all-for a lady named Max with a touch of a moustache, she is a Victorian sexpot.

It would be fun to read this in comparison with Henry Adams' "Democracy" another novel of politics in more or less the same period, though on another continent. Meantime, I'm clearing time to read the rest of Trollope's "political" novels, in the hope that he maintains the high standard that he has set here.

Also, the notes on the text, as is unfortunately so common, give away major plot points. I would strongly advise anyone reading for pleasure rather than scholarship skip the notes, or read them only once you've finished the book.

That said, Phineas Finn was a wonderful read. I began Trollope with Can You Forgive Her?, and while I did like it, I liked Phineas so much more. Unlike many male novelists of the period (especially those who were, as Trollope, embraced at the time), he demonstrates a sympathy for and understanding of the difficult choices presented to the women of his time, and does not shrink from presenting women who are intelligent, complex, and quite at home in the political world of London. Lady Laura Standish, Miss Violet Effingham, and Madame Max Goesler might each have been the heroines of their own novels--indeed, their complexities and the depths of their emotional and political lives throw Phineas's own lack of depth and complexity into relief. And by that I don't mean that Trollope nodded while writing his hero, but that he rather deftly endowed him with indifferent qualities as compared to the women his life.

I wouldn't give away the ending of the novel, but I confess I was a little disappointed in Phineas's final choice. Trollope was, after all, a Victorian gentleman, and perhaps he must be forgiven for wrapping up his hero's adventures in what seemed to me rather a prosaic way. I have yet to read Phineas Redux, and perhaps that sequel may redeem Mr. Finn yet.

"Phineas Finn" is the second volume in the famous "Palliser" series, and it is a typical Anthony Trollope novel. Trollope's style is so refined and polished that one really doesn't mind reading a 700+ page book just to learn of the commonplace events that serve the purpose of plot and character development in his novels. This book will not give one any great insight into the human mind or soul, but it will entertain with its delightful description of Victorian manners and morals. As seems typical of many 19th century English novels the triumvirate of love, marriage, and money drives the main events of the story. The mating dance of love is primly and at times ironically portrayed as it plays out in drawing rooms, dinner parties, and visits to country estates. Phineas Finn, upon completing his education, is offered the opportunity to run for Parliament, and gets elected. Considerable space in the novel is dedicated to the nuts and bolts of 19th century British politics (a possible drawback for contemporary American readers). Members of the House of Commons serve their districts without compensation. Phineas, alas, is not wealthy. This lack of personal wealth is the catalyst for many of Phineas' subsequent actions. Phineas embarks on a search for love, a suitable wife, and financial means. He is drawn to several women. Mary Flood Jones, Lady Laura Standish, Violet Effingham, and Madame Marie Goesler at different times engage his romantic interest. The most interesting of these women is Marie Goesler, an independently minded widow of means. She is German, her late husband was Austrian, and many of the stuffy Victorian rules about a woman's proper place don't suit her personality. As this is only the second volume of the Palliser series, we will see more of Madame Goesler. She has already enchanted the Duke of Omnium, an elderly nobleman who is Plantagenet Palliser's uncle. Palliser and his wife, Lady Glencora, are the main characters of the series, but only play a minor role in this book.

"Phineas Finn" has the delighful charm of a fine old painting or a piece of carefully preserved antique china. It's light weight, but entertaining. It charms with its grace. The pace is leisurely. Reading this novel is an escape in time to another world. A world apart from cell phones, cable TV, and all the rest of noisy modern life. One can quietly relax while dozing in the twilight of this peaceful book.