In Memoriam: a tale of war and forbidden love

A book review of Alice Winn’s debut novel, In Memoriam

I started the year reading this book feverishly. One of the best books I have read on love, war and trauma and one that I found almost impossible to put down. This book was addictive, riveting, beautiful and utterly terrifying.

Set in WW1, In Memoriam follows two rich school boys, Henry Gaunt and Sidney Ellwood. The story begins in the beautiful green English countryside, where they live a privileged life in their idyllic boarding school, spending their days reading Shakespeare and Tennyson, debating over glorified higher ideals of wars and sneaking around after dark — until the war starts and they enlist to join the war force, where they encounter the nauseating horrors of the front lines: living in trenches with rotting corpses sticking out of the walls and mud that drowns men alive, watching soldiers claw their throats as they are gassed and their friends die left, right and centre.

This book is graphically violent, harrowing, explicit and terrifying at times, with vivid descriptions of gore, death and trauma.

But at the same time, it overflows with tenderness: moments filled with beauty, love, friendship and romance, and portrays with authenticity and honesty the effects the war has on the people who fight it.

Alice Winn, with gorgeous and devastating prose, draws us into the lives of Gaunt (Henry) and Ellwood (Sidney): two boys so desperately and deeply in love with each other since boarding school but unable to confess it — each of them fighting their own inner battle as they are drawn closer to each other in the war.

“Gaunt was woven into everything he read, saw, wrote, did, dreamt. Every poem had been written about him, every song composed for him, and Elwood could not scrape his mind clean of him no matter how he tried. 

He thought perhaps all the pain would sour the love, but instead it drew him further in, as if he were Marc Antony, falling on his own sword. And it was a magical thing, to love someone so much; it was a feeling so strange and slippery, like a sheath of fabric cut from the sky.”

I fell head over heels in love for both of them – these deeply flawed and heart-breakingly realistic young men – each with unique, irresistibly vivid inner worlds that changed and developed as they did. The story progresses mostly chronologically — and when we are taken back in time, it is done beautifully — punctuating the chapters with the vivacity of their relationship.

The tension and chemistry between them were brought out with aching descriptions of their love for each other and the fear they felt for the other’s life and safety. In Memoriam does not show the homophobia these men face by rubbing it on our noses, but rather, Winn makes us feel the desperation they do — showing us the cruelty of incriminating a love as powerful and magnificent as theirs.

“Ellwood smiled, and a sudden, dry bleakness spread over Gaunt’s heart as he thought of Hercules, and Hector, and all the heroes in myth who found happiness briefly, only for it not to be the end of the story.”

This novel felt unbelievably fresh in a genre filled with books that have become repetitive. Like in All the Quiet on the Western Front, In Memoriam brims with the tension between the glorified ideals and nobility of “fighting for one's country” (which led a generation of young boys to walk to their deaths believing it made a difference) versus the sickening reality of the conditions these men (young and old alike) fought in and the consequences of the grotesque horrors they witnessed.

“Gaunt wished the War had been what Ellwood wanted it to be. He wished they could have ridden across a battlefield on horseback, brandishing a sword alongside their gallant king.

“Over and over he loaded the ammunition and cut down the advancing men who drove on, unwavering, relentless as the sea. They did not even run but plodded to their deaths, like – There was no comparison. No animal on earth would have suffered it. No creature would walk so knowingly, so hopelessly, into the jaws of death…..

“….Ernst couldn’t even think of them as human. Humans did not die like that, in droves. They began to seem like ants to him, and he was a child crushing with his fingers.”

Alice Winn does not flinch from portraying the carnage and violence of the First World War. Her descriptions were not only vivid – but they also encapsulate the essence of the war – from life in the trenches to that of war prisoners and the public. She also brings out themes of colonialism, homophobia and masculinity without being redundant, unnecessary or obstructing. Even the “ranty” sections of the book enabled the readers to see the contrasting nature of each character — letting us into what scared and angered them.

In a letter from Gaunt to Ellwood: 

“We have conquered the world with promises that could not be kept. We told those Algerians that their civilisation was no good, they must have ours instead, we carried our white man’s burden dutifully, enlightening Indians – Indians! They built the Taj Mahal! And Egyptians! For we knew better than their pyramids! We swarmed through Africa and America because we were better than they, of course we were, we were making war humane, and now it has broken down and they are dragged into hell with us. We have doomed the world with our advancements, with our democracy that is so much better than whatever they’ve thought of, with our technology that will so improve their lives, and now Algerian men must choke to death on their own melted insides in wet Belgian trenches and I —”

But perhaps the most alarming scenes for me were the depictions of trauma, how the characters changed irreversibly — with their inner worlds completely changed — and how they reacted to the unimaginable fear, anger, pain and loss they experienced.

‘ “I’m a mess, Elly. I’m so frightened all the time I can’t think straight. I feel as if my skin’s been burnt away, and I’m just a ragged skeleton walking – nerves without skin –” ’ 

This novel tore me apart. I sometimes exaggerate and say that a book made me “cry” — which would mean a tear fell from my eyes, sometimes even a forced one, if I find something impactful.

But this book made me bawl – pink-faced, whole-body-shaking, snotty sobbing. I got so teary-eyed that I couldn’t even read what was on the page at one point. The last time I cried that hard was over Allegiant by Veronica Roth when I was in 6th grade (but I don’t think that counts anymore). 

In Memoriam made me laugh and squeal and cry and laugh and cry again. My heart was both bombed and pieced back together multiple times — and it was excruciating.

But oh my god, I would give my soul to experience this book all over again for the first time.

What a wonderful novel to start the year with!

Rating: 5 / 5 stars (I wish I could give it a thousand more too)

---

Thank you so much for reading my blog. I hope you enjoyed it!

If you like the content I am producing (reviews on books and movies — critique of literature, society, culture and the modern world), consider subscribing and sharing it with others who may like it. It’s free, it’s the best way you can support my work and it truly, truly makes my day.

Lots of love,

Aastha