Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope

"In the latter days of July in the year 185-, a most important question was for ten days hourly asked in the cathedral city of Barchester, and answered every hour in various ways - who was to be the new bishop?"

And who was to be the new bishop? An outsider, so it happened, and thus the equilibrium of the little corner of the world that is Barsetshire is thrown off balance.  New people with new ideas arrive on the scene; feathers are ruffled as a new order is proposed, if not imposed.

Barchester Towers reacquaints us with some of the characters first introduced in The Warden.  There is the aged cleric Septimus Harding, his two daughters, and his son-in-law Archdeacon Grantly.  Added to the cast are the weak-willed Bishop Proudie and his domineering wife; the conniving Obadiah Slope, the bishop's chaplain; the shy and scholarly Mr Francis Arabin; and the Stanhope siblings: the wastrel artist Bertie, the match-making Charlotte, and the femme fatale Madeline, better know as La Signora Vesey Neroni.

The action revolves around two poles.  Firstly, there is Eleanor, Rev. Harding's daughter, widowed young and the possessor of a considerable income left by her late husband, and she soon becomes the apex of several love triangles. Secondly, there is the politics of the Barchester diocese as the posts of the Warden of Hiram's Hospital and, later, the Dean of the cathedral become vacant; and as Mr Slope and Mrs Proudie go to war over which of them has control of the bishop.

At about 500 pages, Barchester Towers is a much vaster undertaking than its slender predecessor, but just as enjoyable. Trollope has again created a cast of very real and compelling characters. It is a testament to his skill as writer that, whether they be goodies or baddies, or whether they have major or minor roles, the reader is able to care for all the people on the page.

Whereas The Warden dealt with a good and humble man having a crisis of conscience, Barchester Towers is more concerned with manners.  Whilst the latter book was Trollope's most popular, it could be argued that the former is the superior work of art.  As for the sheer joy of reading a good book, they both have their own charms and are as equally entertaining, which is to say very entertaining. Why not read them both?