The novel was thoroughly readable but for me somehow never quite escaped an aura of soap opera about it and certainly a fair dollop of sentimentality and old lace. I also felt that it was written rather too obviously in the shadow of the author's grandfather and the Barchester Chronicles; but arguably that is like criticising the leopard for his spots. The tale and the way it is told a polite and quietly asserted encomium for a more polite and more traditional society, for a certain Englishness, a certain English civilization. The story is about the machinations in an English cathedral town centring on the choir and the cathedral and their survival. The characters involved are all flawed but struggling and often pitiful beings (except one character called Cosimo who is a kind of Kleistian villain and irredeemable n'er do well); their private lives are concerned with separation and coming together anmd reconciliation and in their relationships sex seems to play a quite minor role. God is present and prayed to but politely contested orm ignored as well. This novel would hardly have raised eyebrows in the nineteeth century world of letters, a chaste acheivement given the expectancy of the fictional entretainment of modern times. Sometimes the characters veer seem to me to be forced to play their role too heavily by the writer-the hysterical teenager in love, the wife and mother taking the big step according to the slogan "it's my life", the absent husband with double standards bent on his career. But for all its failings, the novel is very readable, enjoyable, unmpredictable, entirely modern in the sense of one feeling familiar with the emotional, physical and psychological surroundings (this is my second novel by this writer and I am beginning to think this is probably charactreistic of her writing. I have the feeling which I mentioned in my first review of a Joanna Trollop novel, that in thirty years time they may be regarded as supremely dated but here and now they are a welcome companion for car park, lonely breakfast, long flight or train journey.
I do find, though, that I need story. So, in addition to Coming to Our Senses, I am reading a Joanna Trollope novel, The Choir. It’s one of my favorite kinds of relaxing reads—a proper English tale with characters I care about.This tale takes place in a cathedral town and the central dilemma is whether or not to continue the Cathedral choir. Some plot against; some plot for. The plotters are human and sympathetic even at their Machiavellian worst.I know which side I’m rooting for.And it’s interesting to be reading about the Cathedral in the 20th century after reading The Pillars of the Earth, about a cathedral’s construction. Alas—there was intrigue and collusion in the construction process in the 1100’s and now there’s intrigue and collusion in the continued consideration of the cathedral’s role in the life of the town. Do we humans change? Do we grow? Is our consciousness evolving?
Joanna Trollope seems to have found herself a niche, but her work divides readers. She is highly acclaimed on the one hand, and has won awards including the "Best Romantic Novel of the Year" (in 1980 for "Parson Harding's Daughter") yet is also dismissed by others for writing so-called "aga-sagas". Notwithstanding, I thought I should try her for myself. The Choir is another early work from 1988. (I have read it twice; the previous time was in May 2003.) It is well written and there were surprising references to "The Warden". Surprising because this was a contemporary novel. And pleasing too, because it's a well known fact that she is indirectly related to Anthony Trollope (though not a direct descendant).However I found The Choir to be deadly dull, with none of Anthony Trollope's wit and humour. Clearly I am not her target audience, and will not therefore be searching out any more of her novels.
—Jean
Another excellent slice of life novel from Joanna Trollope. Though not as good as "The Rector's Wife," this book still packs a punch. The politics and money of organized religion, the personalities involved in a both religion and education, combined with the very human fabric of the surrounding society are each brought almost cruelly to life here. From the very grand Dean who has so lost control of his own family that even his wife calls him "Hufffo," to the sensational organist, Leo, whose life is complicated by Huffo's daughter, to the school old boy who wanders in, lost in adult life without the anchoring of the choir, the cast of characters is both unforgiving and unforgettable. In the end, though, I felt this book trailed off. The ending was not as strong as the middle of the story. That said, I have fallen in love with Joanna Trollope's writing and will very likely soon finish all of her novels.
—Lisa of Hopewell
A friend recommended Trollope's novels to me, and I happened to have this one on hand. I enjoyed the details of how an English cathedral works, and once the plot got going, it did carry me away. The palette of characters was also interesting, and I enjoyed the humor. However, the plot took way to long to get any momentum and the constant shifts in point of view in the first third or so of the book, where it wasn't at all clear where the dramatic tension would come from, were annoying. Once the plot started to take shape, the same shifts were much more effective.
—Betty
