An autobiography by Anthony Trollope

J'ai découvert récemment que cet auteur prolifique avait rédigé quelques temps avant sa mort une autobiographie, en demandant à ses héritiers de la faire éditer au plus vite après sa mort.
Je me suis donc penchée sur ce texte, pas forcément des plus passionnants mais qui permet de connaitre un peu mieux Trollope, les étapes de sa vie, et -ce que j'ai particulièrement apprécié- son opinion sur ses différents romans.

Pour une fois, j'ai fait ça bien et ai identifié certains passages intéressants, donc je me permets de vous les recopier ci-dessous.

Trollope parle tout d'abord rapidement de son enfance, pas très gaie, car ses années en pension se passent assez mal, avec plusieurs punitions injustifiées etc...
Il évoque aussi sa mère, qui peut être considérée à l'origine de sa vocation littéraire. Elle s'est mise à l'écriture assez tard, mais a été particulièrement prolifique :

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She continued writing up to 1856, when she was seventy-six years old,—and had at that time produced 114 volumes, of which the first was not written till she was fifty. Her career offers great encouragement to those who have not begun early in life, but are still ambitious to do something before they depart hence

J'aime bien la deuxième phrase : il n'est jamais trop tard pour réaliser de grandes choses  

A partir de 1834, Anthony commence à travailler à la Poste, et finira par y faire une belle carrière. Il s'est beaucoup donné à son travail, a accepté de passer plusieurs années en Irlande, source d'inspiration de ses premiers romans, et avait développé une routine de travail : écriture d'un certain nombre de pages très tôt le matin, avant sa journée de travail à la Poste :

Spoiler:

Quelques citations en vrac :

Son opinion sur un livre favori des lambtoniennes :

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I had already made up my mind that Pride and Prejudice was the best novel in the English language,—a palm which I only partially withdrew after a second reading of Ivanhoe, and did not completely bestow elsewhere till Esmond was written.

Et un peu plus loin :

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I myself regard Esmond as the greatest novel in the English language, basing that judgment upon the excellence of its language, on the clear individuality of the characters, on the truth of its delineations in regard to the time selected, and on its great pathos. There are also in it a few scenes so told that even Scott has never equalled the telling.

Son opinion sur certains de ses romans (je ne mets pas tout^^) :

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Doctor Thorne has, I believe, been the most popular book that I have written,—if I may take the sale as a proof of comparative popularity.

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Consequently they in England who were living, or had lived, the same sort of life, liked Framley Parsonage. I think myself that Lucy Robarts is perhaps the most natural English girl that I ever drew,—the most natural, at any rate, of those who have been good girls. She was not as dear to me as Kate Woodward in The Three Clerks, but I think she is more like real human life. Indeed I doubt whether such a character could be made more lifelike than Lucy Robarts.

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Miss Mackenzie was written with a desire to prove that a novel may be produced without any love; but even in this attempt it breaks down before the conclusion. In order that I might be strong in my purpose, I took for my heroine a very unattractive old maid, who was overwhelmed with money troubles; but even she was in love before the end of the book, and made a romantic marriage with an old man.

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I wrote The Belton Estate. It is similar in its attributes to Rachel Ray and to Miss Mackenzie. It is readable, and contains scenes which are true to life; but it has no peculiar merits, and will add nothing to my reputation as a novelist. I have not looked at it since it was published; and now turning back to it in my memory, I seem to remember almost less of it than of any book that I have written

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Taking it as a whole, I regard this as the best novel I have written [The last Chronicle of Barsetshire]. I was never quite satisfied with the development of the plot, which consisted in the loss of a cheque, of a charge made against a clergyman for stealing it, and of absolute uncertainty on the part of the clergyman himself as to the manner in which the cheque had found its way into his hands. I cannot quite make myself believe that even such a man as Mr. Crawley could have forgotten how he got it; nor would the generous friend who was anxious to supply his wants have supplied them by tendering the cheque of a third person. Such fault I acknowledge,—acknowledging at the same time that I have never been capable of constructing with complete success the intricacies of a plot that required to be unravelled. But while confessing so much, I claim to have portrayed the mind of the unfortunate man with great accuracy and great delicacy. The pride, the humility, the manliness, the weakness, the conscientious rectitude and bitter prejudices of Mr. Crawley were, I feel, true to nature and well described. The surroundings too are good. Mrs. Proudie at the palace is a real woman; and the poor old warden dying at the deanery is also real. The archdeacon in his victory is very real. There is a true savour of English country life all through the book. It was with many misgivings that I killed my old friend Mrs. Proudie. I could not, I think, have done it, but for a resolution taken and declared under circumstances of great momentary pressure

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In November of the same year, 1867, I began a very long novel, which I called He Knew He Was Right, and which was brought out by Mr. Virtue, the proprietor of the St. Paul's Magazine, in sixpenny numbers, every week. I do not know that in any literary effort I ever fell more completely short of my own intention than in this story. It was my purpose to create sympathy for the unfortunate man who, while endeavouring to do his duty to all around him, should be led constantly astray by his unwillingness to submit his own judgment to the opinion of others. The man is made to be unfortunate enough, and the evil which he does is apparent. So far I did not fail, but the sympathy has not been created yet. I look upon the story as being nearly altogether bad. It is in part redeemed by certain scenes in the house and vicinity of an old maid in Exeter. But a novel which in its main parts is bad cannot, in truth, be redeemed by the vitality of subordinate characters.

(cette partie m’a attristée car c’est personnellement mon roman préféré   )

Son affection pour ses différents personnages, notamment la fameuse Mrs Proudie des Chroniques du Barsetshire :

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By no amount of description or asseveration could I succeed in making any reader understand how much these characters with their belongings have been to me in my latter life; or how frequently I have used them for the expression of my political or social convictions.

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Since her time others have grown up equally dear to me,—Lady Glencora and her husband, for instance; but I have never dissevered myself from Mrs. Proudie, and still live much in company with her ghost.

Trois chapitres sont un peu à part et intéressants à lire :
ON NOVELS AND THE ART OF WRITING THEM
ON ENGLISH NOVELISTS OF THE PRESENT DAY
ON CRITICISM

Concernant Charlotte Brontë :

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And therefore, though the end of the book is weak, and the beginning not very good, I venture to predict that Jane Eyre will be read among English novels when many whose names are now better known shall have been forgotten. Jane Eyre, and Esmond, and Adam Bede will be in the hands of our grandchildren, when Pickwick, and Pelham, and Harry Lorrequer are forgotten; because the men and women depicted are human in their aspirations, human in their sympathies, and human in their actions.

Voilà les passages intéressants que j’ai relevés (il y en a beaucoup d’autres).

J’espère que certain(e)s m’auront lu jusqu’au bout !

Merci pour l'ouverture de ce topic, Ju ! Toutes les citations que tu as notées sont très intéressantes, aussi bien concernant la vie de Trollope que son opinion au sujet de ses romans et de ceux d'autres écrivains
Merci pour le partage !

Merci beaucoup pour le topic Ju et ton retour des plus alléchants agrémenté de citations si sympathiques.

J'ai hésité plusieurs fois à acheter cette autobiographie, parce que j'aime beaucoup ce genre littéraire et ai envie d'en savoir plus sur la vie de Trollope sous sa propre plume. Inutile de dire que je finirai donc par craquer un de ces jours .