I have just finished reading Phineas Finn by Anthony Trollope. This was written in 1869 and is the second of his six “Palliser” novels (although the role of the Palliser family in this novel is trivial).
Essentially, the story is of the political rise and fall of Phineas Finn, the poor son of an Irish doctor. Finn is elected to parliament for a small borough in Ireland and later gains a cabinet position as Under-secretary of State. As a cabinet member, he finds himself bound to vote in accord with the ruling Liberal party and chafes against his lack of ethical freedom. Things finally come to a head with the question of tenant rights for Irish farmers and Finn feels obliged to side with his countrymen against the English prime minister, thereby forcing himself to resign his cabinet post and, for financial reasons, his seat in parliament.
The novel also details Finn’s courtship of no fewer than four women. At the beginning of the novel, Finn appears attached to Mary Flood Jones of Killaloe, Ireland. During his London career he becomes enthralled first by his political mentor Lady Laura Standish, then by a wealthy heiress by the name of Violet Effingham, and finally by Madam Max Goesler, a wealthy German. Lady Laura promptly rejects him, dooming herself to a miserable marriage with Mr. Edward Kennedy. Miss Effingham also rejects him, favoring Lord Chiltern, her anti-social childhood sweetheart. Regarding Madame Goesler, it is she who makes a proposal to Finn, who reluctantly rejects her, having by this time already pledged himself to Miss Flood Jones during a trip to Ireland.
I’m sure that someone knowledgeable about British history and politics and about relations between England and Ireland could do more justice to this novel than I can. There is much of interest here regarding the rights of the Irish, the perceptions of the Irish among wealthy Londoners, the practice of not paying M.P.s for their labor, and the workings of the House of Commons in general. Ultimately, the novel asks us to consider the interplay between political and moral freedom and the possibility of ethical independence within the context of a parliamentary government. Finn has no money of his own and no salary as an M.P. and so is dependent upon a small allowance from his father until he secures his payed cabinet position. Once he takes the Queen’s money, however, he is no longer his own man.
The sexual politics is even more complicated and Trollope returns to a familiar theme in his works: the relationship between love and money. In the end, love triumphs over money and Finn marries his penniless Irish sweetheart. This ending, though, is not quite as satisfying as such an ending should be. To begin with, Mary Flood Jones is not very interesting. She receives very little stage time and Trollope tells us more of her beauty than her character. She is described as soft and pretty, “one of those girls, so common in Ireland, whom men, with tastes that way given, feel inclined to take up and devour on the spur of the moment.” Not exactly a feminist heroine. Her three English competitors, on the other hand, are all smart, witty, and women of the world in addition to being beautiful. So I doubt that I am alone in feeling a bit disappointed when it becomes clear that Mary will win the contest.
Another character who must choose between love and money is Lady Laura Standish. Much to her later dismay, she chooses Edward Kennedy’s wealth over Finn’s charm and good looks. The marriage is disastrous and she eventually flees to Dresden to escape any legal actions by her estranged husband. The Kennedy-Standish marriage seems almost like a sketch for the stormy Trevelyan marriage of He Knew He Was Right. Both novels were published in 1869 and I do not know which came first. Both marriages come to grief when the husband falsely accuses the wife of infidelity. Lady Laura, however, is a more sympathetic character than Emily Trevelyan, who often seems as obsessed with her own victimhood as her mad husband with his.
Love and money also figure into the fate of Violet Effingham, although she is fortunate in that they reside with the same suitor: Lord Chiltern. The only drawback is that he is generally described as “savage” and seems to have no other ambition in life than to kill foxes. Nevertheless, she has loved him since childhood and he has enough family money to allow his idleness. Lady Laura (Chiltern’s sister) is greatly in favor of the match, pressuring poor Violet much after the manner of Kate Vavasor in Can You Forgive Her? Lady Laura’s advice does not lead to the same disaster as Kate’s, but it is difficult to feel much optimism for the Chiltern-Effingham marriage.
Finally, we have Madame Max, who goes against all convention by proposing to Finn, having already rejected an offer of marriage by the wealthy Duke of Omnium (here is the Palliser connection). The choice of love over money may have been easy for her, since she certainly didn’t lack for the latter, but it is still noble. She offers herself to Finn not only as wife, but as provider of the financial means for him to remain in parliament after he gives up his cabinet post. I don’t think any reader can fault Finn for giving momentary consideration to her offer.
For better or worse, Finn does give up his seat in parliament and marries Mary Flood Jones. We leave the once-successful politician as an inspector of poor houses in Ireland and can only hope for an improvement to his situation in Phineas Redux.