When a friend and I were discussing favourite books some months ago, they mentioned this novel, saying that although they didn't remember masses about it, the story had left its mark on them.
That intrigued me so I kept my eye open for it, without success. Until a copy finally found its way into my hands a few weeks ago, via a chance find in a second-hand book shop. And I'm really glad it did. Because not only was it a really enjoyable story, but I felt something which I find is quite rare in literature. Beyond simply entertaining and beguiling me, it seemed to have a connection to me; it spoke to me about my life and experiences, about my hopes and concerns.
Electricity is not the most uplifting of tales, I suppose, but neither is it a depressing one. It seems to me to be an honest reflection on Life, on its disappointments and elations. A thoughtful consideration of all that is offered to us, or taken away, from the point of view of a young woman who simply wants to know how it all works.
Brought up in a narrow house in Victorian London, by a repressed mother and a father who possibly has more interest in his daughter than is strictly healthy, Charlotte is a typical and rather mediocre middle class girl. Her dour lifestyle is enlivened considerably when the charismatic Peter comes to lodge at her home and the excitement of breathless young love blossoms - an experience denied to so many woman compelled to marry for financial or emotional security, both then and now.
Peter is an enthusiastic disciple of the newfangled electricity that is literally lighting up Victorian society and his career soon takes the newlyweds to a large house in the country, to install the new technology for a wealthy lord. Here, Charlotte will learn more about the unstoppable energy that flows through her veins, just as formidably as the electricity in the wires.
From the start, Charlotte tells her story with unflappable honesty, seeking to neither dress up her motives nor inflict punishments on herself that she does not feel are deserved. Although she is not the warmest of characters, what shines through is her curiosity and the sense of adventure that slowly seeps through the hard veneer applied by a Victorian upbringing. In a cool, uncomplicated way, she is independent and inquiring. She pushes at the boundaries placed upon her physical and emotional life and cannot seem to understand why she shouldn't experience all the things that are offered up to her, regardless of whether they are deliciously thrilling or tortuously painful.
Even when recalling the headiest days of early love, she is able to view it with a cool eye and draw conclusions that are not cold, but are insightful. She strives to make sense of the sensations and emotions that make us all helpless, yet without attempting to deny the magic or view romance with too cynical an eye.
There is no doubt that she does terrible things and sacrifices other people's happiness in order to explore Life's outer edges. All she wants to do is to live Life to its full potential, to escape the needless ties that bind, and her ability to choose her own path, for good or ill, is carried as a theme throughout the book. Yet Charlotte is not callous and the dragging ache of remorse at her more selfish actions is not glossed over. But she seems to accept the emotional consequences of her decisions with as much resignation as the practical ones, and this ability is perhaps the real key to her freedom.
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