Heroes

Harry Clavering loves Julia Brabazon and she seems to love him back. But then she marries Lord Ongar, who mistreats her miserably for a year before changing his ways by dying. In the meantime, Harry has moved on and has become engaged to Florence Burton. Then Julia comes back to England. All of this happens in just a couple of chapters in Anthony Trollope’s The Claverings. The rest of the book is taken up with (1) Harry’s vacillation between Julia and Florence and (2) other men vying for Julia’s rich hand.

Trollope’s original readers (and I join them in this) wanted Harry to marry Florence because she is the better person. But they also wanted a hero, and this Trollope does not want to give them. He explains it all right in the narration (as is his delightful wont): it is a weighty and painful burden the public places on an author when they expect of him the presentation of heroes, because then the author cannot write realistically. Trollope intends to give the public a real man in Harry Clavering, not a hero. And, after all, once stories began in the latter part of that century to emphasize and base plots upon antagonism within one character rather than antagonism between characters, heroes can no longer be the protagonists of novels. If Harry just says, “Oh, you’re back, Julia? Sorry. You had your chance. But I’ve met a nice girl now, so go have fun with your money,” there is no novel, no story to tell.

But Anthony Trollope doesn’t deny the existence of heroes altogether. He isn’t a cynic. He believes, for instance, that romantic love is a good, real thing, not just a plot point that sells stories to middle-class housewives. I know this because, again, he just comes out and says it in the narration. OK, it’s conceivable that the personal confessions by the narrator are deliberate canards to sell more books and magazines. But, having read a lot of his novels and his autobiography, I don’t think so. He truly believes in love, and he believes in heroes, as well. But if his male protagonist, the character who is going to get one girl or another at the end, can’t be heroic, and if his female protagonist doesn’t want to be a “hero” and win the man, how does Trollope display heroism in his tale?

Enter the Burtons of Onslow Crescent. Harry dislikes Theodore Burton, Florence’s brother, the minute he sees Theodore in the office (the Burton business is very much a family affair) dusting his boots with his pocket handkerchief. But, of course, Theodore invites Harry for a family dinner after work one day, so Harry must make the effort to be amiable, discovering in the process that he actually admires the domestic life of Theodore, his wife Cecilia, and several honest, devoted, humble, obedient, and cute Burton tykes. The fine line Theodore and Cecelia walk that both protects Florence and steers Harry toward honor is nothing short of heroic. Their display of heroism involves no blood, no banners or fanfares, but it requires intelligence, fortitude, a restraint of judgment, and emotional self-control.

I would happily read an entire book about the Burtons of Onslow Crescent. No wicked villains would appear; the conflicts would arise from an urgent bill for which cash is not readily available, a childhood illness, a neighbor spreading rumors, a black sheep of the Burton family (if such a thing can exist) asking for shelter, a nest of mice in the attic, a messenger at the business that routinely misremembers addresses, and a warped window frame that lets in a cold breeze. But the Burtons of Onslow Crescent would face all with the proper mixture of healthy emotional reaction and virtuous Christian composure, and I would love and learn from every page.