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A review by michael5000
Dr. Thorne by Anthony Trollope
4.0
2013: Another fine novel by the dean of urbanity. Some strong stuff in here, read in the proper spirit, about alcoholism, before people fully realized there was such a thing. Less satisfying than other Barsetshires for two reasons: 1) it's plot is maddeningly dependent on people keeping as secrets things that it would be sensible and natural for them to discuss with each other, and 2) the bulk of the novel sets up Dr. Thorne's great moral and legal dilemma, only to eventually brazenly (in direct address to the reader) brush it away with a grinning statement to the effect that "it probably wouldn't work this way in reality, but for purposes of the novel everything turned out [fine/badly]." I say "fine/badly" so as to not give away the ending. Either (1) or (2) alone would be droll; together, they just seem kind of sloppy.
2019: For what it's worth, neither (1) nor (2) bugged me much this time around. I either had a stronger sense of why Doc Thorne might choose not to discuss the mystery of his niece's birth with her, or was just more willing to let it slide this time. Let's say I'm smarter now, and wisely have a better insight into the characters' behavior than I used to, because that's nicer than saying I'm dumber now and less discerning. For (2), I've learned to accept and even cherish in Mr. Trollope that he's occasionally going to interrupt the narrative so we can have a cordial little chat about how the two of us, writer and reader, are enjoying a collaborative game of pretending, in which he for one is willing to take a few judicious shortcuts.
2019: For what it's worth, neither (1) nor (2) bugged me much this time around. I either had a stronger sense of why Doc Thorne might choose not to discuss the mystery of his niece's birth with her, or was just more willing to let it slide this time. Let's say I'm smarter now, and wisely have a better insight into the characters' behavior than I used to, because that's nicer than saying I'm dumber now and less discerning. For (2), I've learned to accept and even cherish in Mr. Trollope that he's occasionally going to interrupt the narrative so we can have a cordial little chat about how the two of us, writer and reader, are enjoying a collaborative game of pretending, in which he for one is willing to take a few judicious shortcuts.