Some of my friends like to tease me about watching BBC miniseries, but I still have no shame in admiting I like them, especially if the screenplay was written by Andrew Davies.
I just finished watching He Knew He Was Right, a miniseries based on Anthony Trollope’s book of the same title. (I read the novel before I watched the show.) While the title sounds terrible Victorian and chauvinistic, it’s more of an exploration of what can happen in a marriage (or any relationship, for that matter) if the people involved are too proud to admit they might be wrong about something.
The main couple start out very much in love, but it all ends in tears. At first she’s the more willfully pigheaded of the two, but when she’s about ready to accept she might be wrong, he’s so far off his rocker that it’s too late.
Without the supporting charcters, the novel and the miniseries would be like reading Anna Karenina without the relief given by Kitty and Levin. But there are other characters in this series. There are several connected families and other couples that have issues of their own to work out, which they do.
An interesting note: Trollope apparently encountered and fell for an American girl, later in his life. One of the characters in He Knew He Was Right ends up marrying an American girl, even though she is somewhat of a suffragette and he is of the British aristocracy. Interesting use of personal experience to help shape fiction.