A very well-written novel exploring the vanities and insecurities of a group of senior tutors in their efforts to elect a new master of their college in Cambridge, England. This is #4 in an 11 book series tracing the life of one British man in the years around WWII. I've ordered the first book in the series and look forward to reading the entire lot! ( )

A beautiful psychological study of Cambridge academics and the mental anxieties and acrobatics hidden behind polite exteriors as they jockey for institutional position. The Cambridge culture is now superseded and particular, but the experience is universal in higher education. ( )

This is the 5th book in Snow's "Strangers and Brothers" series. The series follows the life and career of Lewis Eliot from his early struggles in the 1920s to become a lawyer and to deal with marriage to a mentally troubled woman through his time as a Cambridge don, and then through the years of World War Two and into the 1960s. Through Eliot's eyes we see the changes in British society (mostly upper class and academic circles). In The Masters, we are in the late 1930s, and Eliot is a don in an unnamed college within Cambridge University. The Master of the college has terminal cancer, and the deliberations concerning who his successor will be have begun, with two main camps quickly forming. The plot of the book concerns these deliberations and negotiations, and the personalities and relationships of the men struggling through the process.

I am slowly reading through this series, which has, in all, 11 books, usually one or two books per year. I enjoyed reading the first four, and very much enjoyed this book, as well. Given the subject matter, I really wasn't expecting to find The Masters compelling, but I did. It's about a bunch of relatively privileged men in the 1930s deeply involved in the politics of a decision that could be of importance only within their fishbowl world. Why would I care? The answer lies in Snow's deft touch with character, and his obvious somewhat wry affection towards his subjects. The dons cover a spectrum of ages, and Snow ably shows us how each man's experiences and expectations regarding the college and its traditions is rooted in whatever era he came of age. The oldest of the dons has been in his position since the 1880s. The youngest of the dons, a scientist, is working on problems of physics that, we are told, will eventually help in the creation of radar. Through their varied eyes, we are shown the evolution of English university life and academia as a whole.

Snow used an interesting method in his storytelling, here, in that the action of The Masters, actually steps back in time a few years from the series' previous book, [The Light and the Dark], which takes the narrative into the middle of World War Two. So we know what the future will hold for some of the characters we're reading about, and we also understand how this world that the Cambridge dons are so concerned with preserving is soon to undergo drastic changes that all of their deep deliberations and politics will be entirely unable to prevent or even influence.

All in all, this is a very fine novel of ideas and personalities. Understanding the characters' backgrounds through a reading of the previous books in the series would be helpful, but I don't think in this case wholly necessary. ( )

Brilliantly atmospheric portrayal of men and their behaviour, set around an election for the Master of a Cambridge College in the mid-1930s. Very acute descriptions of people and places, with an energised suspense maintained throughout. I was very pleasantly surprised by this book. ( )

This is one of my favourite novels ... ever!
I began my working life with a brief spell as a (very) Junior Fellow of an Oxford College and as a consequence I have always enjoyed reading novels set in academia. My own short-lived Fellowship, at Oriel College, was during the mid-1980s, almost fifty years after the events in this novel took place, and ‘The Masters’ is, of course, set in that other place, over in the fens. I could, however, recognise so much of what happened in this book. The conversations between the Fellows, the orotundity of speech, the rigidity and formality of their manners … it all just seemed like yesterday!
I first read ‘The Masters’ more than thirty years ago, while in my final year as an undergraduate, as I ploughed through the whole of C P Snow's eleven volume semi-autobiographical novel sequence ‘Strangers and Brothers’. I remember from that first reading that I considered this novel, and indeed the sequence as a whole, as being singularly lacking in emotion. While I clearly recall having enjoyed this volume more than the rest, I didn't really think of it again until five or six years later, when the Conservative Party went through its internal leadership selection process to appoint a successor to Margaret Thatcher after she was ousted in November 1990. Out of the blue something prompted me to re-read this novel, and I was amazed: it seemed to be a different book to the one I had read just a few years earlier and I found that it positively seethes with emotion.
The book was written in the 1950s but is set in 1937 in an unnamed Cambridge College (generally believed to be King's, where Snow himself had been a Fellow before the war). Like the rest of the sequence it is narrated by Lewis Eliot, a barrister who had at that time been a Fellow of the College for about three years, though he still also maintained up his private practice in London. Eliot has had his own personal turmoils in the past and had decided to pursue the field of academic law for a while as a form of emotional rehabilitation.
The novel opens with the news that Vernon Royce, the Master of the College, has just been diagnosed as terminally ill, and is expected to die within the next few months. The remaining Fellows have to elect a successor from among themselves, and it soon emerges that there are only two candidates likely to draw any viable support: Dr Redvers Crawford, an eminent physiologist, and Dr Paul Jago, an English scholar scarcely known beyond the walls of the College, but viewed as having great insight into people and known for the ambition of his ideas. Crawford is to the left of centre politically while Jago is a true blue reactionary.
Snow captures the different personalities, and animosities, marvellously. There are bitter rivalries, jealousies and conflicting aspirations, all of which prey upon the Fellows and render the forthcoming election particularly sensitive. Among the Fellows there is a wide range of scholarly accomplishment. Some have achieved success and recognition far beyond the ivory tower while others have lost their way after a promising start. The portrayal of the Senior Fellow, Professor M H L Gay, is particularly effective. He is a medievalist, renowned and honoured around the world for his success in translating the Icelandic sagas, and never tires of reminding his fellow Fellows about his honorary degrees.
The tension mounts as the old Master's health gradually fails, and the election draws closer. Snow's dissection of the emotions of a tight-knit group of colleagues and the relations they have to maintain is utterly engaging, and grips the reader with the same compulsion as the best spy or mystery stories. Since re-reading it in 1990 I seem to read it again every two or three years, and the conclusion and the various twists still contrive to surprise me. ( )