August 30, 2011
Everyone (and I mean everyone) knows that I like reading Anthony Trollope. Heck, I’m the president of the “Bring Back Trollope in Zombie Form to Write More Books” club. And I’ve had some Trollope quotes on here before, cause he likes to slip in some drinks and pubs and such into his books. Or, I should say, liked (at least until Zombie Trollope). He wrote loads of books, and I’m slowly reading them all (and re-reading some). Recently, I picked up a lesser known ear;y-ish Trollope number called The Three Clerks, and liked it plenty. Especially because it was about three, well, clerks, of a youngish age, and so as they were living la vida loca circa 1874, they imbibed quite a bit. The book has mention of three kinds of gin (regular, Hollands, and Old Tom), rum, brandy, the Bishop, and even the Mint Julep (and more that I don’t have space to mention). Amazing. It was hard to pin down what quotes to post here, but I went with the below two, the first cause seeing a Mint Julep mentioned in an 1800s English novel is rare and the second cause I like the word “hogshead.” Just know that if you read the book (which I suggest) you’ll find many, many others.
One man had on an almost new brown frock coat with a black velvet collar, and white trousers. Two had blue swallow-tailed coats with brass buttons; and a fourth, a dashing young lawyer’s clerk from Clement’s Inn, was absolutely stirring a mixture, which he called a Mint Julep, with a yellow kid glove dangling out of his hand.
In person, Captain Cuttwater was a tall, heavy man, on whose iron constitution hogsheads of Hollands and water seemed to have no very powerful effect.
—The Three Clerks, Anthony Trollope
PS: One more great non-booze quote from the book (cause I like you, reader): “He is as vulgar as a hog, as awkward as an elephant, and as ugly as an ape.”
July 19, 2011
Ayala’s Angel sounds a bit like a not-tawdry-enough romance novel that you’d find in the quarter bin of a bookstore specializing in romance trade-ins and the occasional “art” book. While it does have a bit of romance, if you decided not to read the book solely because of the connotations involved with the title, you’d be one sad reader, pal. Cause it’s an Anthony Trollope number, and while it has its fair share of yucks and laffs (perhaps it is as gently witty towards its main characters as any Trollope I’ve read), they’re surrounded by that eye for everyday detail that makes Trollope (along with the fact that his characters are memorable, his prose is sweet, etc, etc) so enjoyable to read. And the fact that it contains the following quote that references a particular vintage of claret (Trollope was so fond of this winery he bought–as the book’s notes tell us–24 bottles in one go) makes the book even better. Any reverence for a particular booze bears repeating:
But before the end of the first fortnight there grew upon her a feeling that even bank notes become tawdry if you are taught to use them as curl-papers. It may be said that nothing in the world is charming unless it be achieved at some trouble. If it rained ’64 Leoville–which I regard as the most divine of nectars–I feel sure that I should never raise it to my lips.
—Ayala’s Angel, Anthony Trollope
January 14, 2011
People who know me, know that I dig the Trollope (the Anthony Trollope, that is, and not some other author trying to ride the coattails of his last name—and not the trollops this time, though I don’t have anything against a hooker with a heart of gold). I have pretty much (I’m missing one) the complete Trollope collection of novels and sometimes think I could subside on a reading diet of Trollope, Dickens, and Mosley (and maybe a couple pocket books for balance). Especially fine, and worth reading and re-reading, are the Palliser novels, where he takes on a combination of politics and upper crust foibles in the age when everyone had a ladies maid, had tongues sharp as Wustofs, and wore really puffy outfits. The Eustace Diamonds is the third of six Palliser novels, and while not my fav of the bunch is pretty darn fine. Especially fine is this quote where the drink of choice is Negus, the party hit of the late middle 1800s.
‘My dear, Mr. ‘Oward’ he said, ‘this is a pleasure. This is a pleasure. This is a pleasure.’
‘What is it to be?’ asked Gager.
‘Well;–ay, what? Shall I say a little port wine Negus, with the nutmeg in it rather strong?’ This suggestion he made to a young lady from the bar, who had followed him into the room. The Negus was brought and paid for by Gager, who then requested that they might be left their undisturbed for five minutes.
That’s not the only quote, though, cause on the very same page is this gem:
‘Six penn’orth of brandy,–warm if you please, my dear,’ said the pseudo-Howard, as he strolled easily into an inner room, with which he seemed to be quite familiar. He seated himself in an old-fashioned wooden arm-chair, gazed up at the gas lamp, and stirred his liquor slowly.
–Anthony Trollope, The Eustace Diamonds
August 28, 2009
It’s Friday, which means yippes, hallelujahs, wowie-zowies, and more exclamations of general merriment, as we communally breathe out one big happy weekend-is-here yelp. Not that all of us hate our weekdays (not at all), but the weekend’s usually more fun, with its sleeping in, and staying up late, its revelries, drinks, and merriment. However (and here’s where that ol’ other shoe sometimes drops), the weekend can also mean things like mandatory work parties and other “parties” which might be funnish, but which you don’t seem to have a choice about attending. Which is why I’m sending you out to your weekend with this quote about parties from Anthony Trollope, taken from his most famous (or top five, at least) book, Barchester Towers, the second book in the Barchester series, the first Trollope I read (I think I’ve got them all now, or darn close, now), and nothing short of a masterpiece of English drawing room comedy. Maybe I like another Trollope or two better, but I’ve read Barchester Towers at least three times, and every time I’ve wanted to skip every other facet of life until I finished it. Which is saying something. While this quote is specific to “morning” parties, it goes somewhat to all parties one feels they have to attend, or, for that matter throw.
Morning parties, as a rule, are failures. People never know how to get away from them gracefully. A picnic on an island or a mountain or in a wood may perhaps be permitted. There is no master of the mountain bound by courtesy to bid you stay while in his heart he is longing for your departure. But in a private house or in private grounds a morning party is a bore. One is called on to eat and drink at unnatural hours. One is obliged to give up the day which is useful, and is then left without resource for the evening which is useless. One gets home fagged and désoeuvré and yet at an hour too early for bed. There is no comfortable resource left. Cards in these genteel days are among the things tabooed, and a rubber of whist is impracticable. All this began now to be felt.
— Barchester Towers, Anthony Trollope
August 6, 2008
Beyond the stacks of cocktail, drink, entertaining, and cooking books, I tend to read a wide range of printed works, from pulpy paperbacks in pocket size to long-boxes of comics to more modern novelists to poetry. But maybe my favorite area to hang out in, literature-ily, is the classic English novelists, especially Dickens and Anthony Trollope. Trollope’s drawing room books aren’t only an example of stellar prose (this really should go without saying, like it goes without saying that an Old Fashioned should never have soda water), but also feature characters whose motivations, observations, and situations are incredibly relevant today (even if they aren’t burdened down by cellular phones, televisions, and autos). Also, as they play out very episodically, Trollope books are ideal to take on daily bus rides, and, as they transport you in a way, they’re also ideal to take on planes, or on trips. I could go on and on, but instead, let me type in my favorite Trollope quote having to do with drinking (though there are lots of others, as many of his characters–not as many as Dickens, but still a lot–enjoy their drinks and parties), a quote that I never get tired of:
“The gentleman in his cups is a gentleman always, and the man who tells his friend in his cups that he is in love does so because the fact has been very present to himself in his cooler and calmer moments.”
–Anthony Trollope, He Knew He Was Right
That’s good, late 1800’s stuff y’all.
