Literature & Fiction
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In Memoriam: A novel
GMA BUZZ PICK • INTERNATIONAL BEST SELLER • A haunting, virtuosic debut novel about two young men who fall in love during World War I • "Dazzling and wrenching, witty and wildly romantic, with echoes of Brideshead Revisited and Atonement." -Lev Grossman, best-selling author of The Magicians
"In Memoriam is the story of a great tragedy, but it is also a moving portrait of young love, and there is often a lightness to the book."-The New York Times
"A devastating love story…Gaunt and Ellwood will live in your mind long after you've closed the final pages." -Maggie O'Farrell, best-selling author of Hamnet and The Marriage Portrait
It's 1914, and World War I is ceaselessly churning through thousands of young men on both sides of the fight. The violence of the front feels far away to Henry Gaunt, Sidney Ellwood and the rest of their classmates, safely ensconced in their idyllic boarding school in the English countryside. News of the heroic deaths of their friends only makes the war more exciting.
Gaunt, half German, is busy fighting his own private battle--an all-consuming infatuation with his best friend, the glamorous, charming Ellwood--without a clue that Ellwood is pining for him in return. When Gaunt's family asks him to enlist to forestall the anti-German sentiment they face, Gaunt does so immediately, relieved to escape his overwhelming feelings for Ellwood. To Gaunt's horror, Ellwood rushes to join him at the front, and the rest of their classmates soon follow. Now death surrounds them in all its grim reality, often inches away, and no one knows who will be next.
An epic tale of both the devastating tragedies of war and the forbidden romance that blooms in its grip, In Memoriam is a breathtaking debut.
"In Memoriam is the story of a great tragedy, but it is also a moving portrait of young love, and there is often a lightness to the book."-The New York Times
"A devastating love story…Gaunt and Ellwood will live in your mind long after you've closed the final pages." -Maggie O'Farrell, best-selling author of Hamnet and The Marriage Portrait
It's 1914, and World War I is ceaselessly churning through thousands of young men on both sides of the fight. The violence of the front feels far away to Henry Gaunt, Sidney Ellwood and the rest of their classmates, safely ensconced in their idyllic boarding school in the English countryside. News of the heroic deaths of their friends only makes the war more exciting.
Gaunt, half German, is busy fighting his own private battle--an all-consuming infatuation with his best friend, the glamorous, charming Ellwood--without a clue that Ellwood is pining for him in return. When Gaunt's family asks him to enlist to forestall the anti-German sentiment they face, Gaunt does so immediately, relieved to escape his overwhelming feelings for Ellwood. To Gaunt's horror, Ellwood rushes to join him at the front, and the rest of their classmates soon follow. Now death surrounds them in all its grim reality, often inches away, and no one knows who will be next.
An epic tale of both the devastating tragedies of war and the forbidden romance that blooms in its grip, In Memoriam is a breathtaking debut.
Editorial Reviews
GMA BUZZ PICK
"Glorious, addictive, exquisite . . . I couldn't put it down." -Hugh Ryan, New York Times Book Review
"Consuming and unstintingly romantic." -The New Yorker
"Astounding . . . She's a magnificent writer . . . You're unbearably moved by this book." -Bill Goldstein, NBC "Weekend Today in New York"
"An epic love story amid the brutalities of war." -People
"Indelible." -Washington Post
"A genuine page-turner . . . There is an ease to her writing, a zippy confidence, unusual for a debut." -The Sunday Times (U.K.)
"In Memoriam is the story of a great tragedy, but it is also a moving portrait of young love, and there is often a lightness to the book." -New York Times
"Propulsive, visceral and heartrending . . . I can't remember the last time I was this invested in a love story-all while seeing our darkest history brought wrenchingly to life." -Sunday Telegraph
"It's hard to believe that In Memoriam is a debut novel as it's so assured, affecting and moving. Alice Winn has written a devastating love story between two young men that moves from the sheltered idyll of their public school to the unspeakable horrors of the Western Front during the First World War. Gaunt and Ellwood will live in your mind long after you've closed the final pages." -Maggie O'Farrell, author of The Marriage Portrait
"I read through the night to finish this blistering debut, too feverishly engrossed to sleep. When was the last time characters in a novel seemed so real to me, so cherishable, so alive? Alice Winn has made familiar history fresh; no account of the First World War has made me feel so vividly its horror, or how irrevocably it mutilated the world. That In Memoriam
"Glorious, addictive, exquisite . . . I couldn't put it down." -Hugh Ryan, New York Times Book Review
"Consuming and unstintingly romantic." -The New Yorker
"Astounding . . . She's a magnificent writer . . . You're unbearably moved by this book." -Bill Goldstein, NBC "Weekend Today in New York"
"An epic love story amid the brutalities of war." -People
"Indelible." -Washington Post
"A genuine page-turner . . . There is an ease to her writing, a zippy confidence, unusual for a debut." -The Sunday Times (U.K.)
"In Memoriam is the story of a great tragedy, but it is also a moving portrait of young love, and there is often a lightness to the book." -New York Times
"Propulsive, visceral and heartrending . . . I can't remember the last time I was this invested in a love story-all while seeing our darkest history brought wrenchingly to life." -Sunday Telegraph
"It's hard to believe that In Memoriam is a debut novel as it's so assured, affecting and moving. Alice Winn has written a devastating love story between two young men that moves from the sheltered idyll of their public school to the unspeakable horrors of the Western Front during the First World War. Gaunt and Ellwood will live in your mind long after you've closed the final pages." -Maggie O'Farrell, author of The Marriage Portrait
"I read through the night to finish this blistering debut, too feverishly engrossed to sleep. When was the last time characters in a novel seemed so real to me, so cherishable, so alive? Alice Winn has made familiar history fresh; no account of the First World War has made me feel so vividly its horror, or how irrevocably it mutilated the world. That In Memoriam
Readers Top Reviews
Articunojimbeaux7Boo
This book hooked me from the beginning and I thoroughly enjoyed following the two protagonists through their adventures - even though those adventures were gruesome and horrible as only war can be.
Christopher Renna
An endearing story of love wrapped in the gruesome horrors of war. This would have been a 5 star for me, but a bulk of In Memoriam is heavy on dialogue and light on narrative. Because of this, I didn't quite experience the full impact of the story. 4 stars !!!
Kindle
This novel wrung every emotion out of me: the optimism of childhood, the cruelty of forcing children to enlist in a war they had nothing to do with, the horrors of war, the enduring bonds of friendship. The abiding hope of love.
cat lover
WWI Is one of my favorite historical subjects. I've read many books about it, and recently watched the Oscar winning movie "All Quiet on the Western Front" (based on a magnificent novel by Erich Maria Remarque) ... The author of "In Memoriam" has a degree in English literature from Oxford University. Her command of the English language is evident in every sentence of this book. The ability to tell an inspiring story, with unforgettable characters and terrifying events. This book is not for the faint hearted. There is a loss of young life on a grand scale, lots of gore and suffering. On the other hand, there is love, hope and redemption. The plot centers around two boarding school students (Ellwood and Gaunt) and their relationship and young love. After the war breaks out, news of the heroic deaths of their school friends makes the war exciting and they decide to enlist. Soon after, other friends follow them to the frontline and the plot thickens... This book features LGBTQ and Class issues, social changes in Britain and lots of fine literature. I cannot recommend this book highly enough. If you like "In Memoriam", you should also read: - The Absolutist by John Boyne - In Falling Snow by Mary-Rose MacColl - My Dear I Wanted to Tell You by Louisa Young - The Return of Captain John Emmett by Elizabeth Speller - The Foreshadowing by Marcus Sedgwick
A. Houghton
having read several reviews about the book pre-purchase, i was aware of the excitement about it. so i bought two - a kindle for me and a hard cover for my step son. he read it in a day; it took me a few longer than that. the book is as impressive as its buzz. beautiful written, incredibly erudite when it needed to be, passionate, funny, and horrifying. i had a nightmare about the trenches after reading for an hour late one night. the book is epic in scale and ambition. perhaps slightly more than it needed to be. my interest waned a little during the prison camp chapters but picked up again quickly. its a yearning book, an extremely sad book, and hopeful book all put together with an elegance you rarely see - particularly in such a young author. during the last few years, my reading habits have leaned more in the non fiction direction but IN MEMORIUM has opened my eyes again to the wonders of imagination and craft. its a superb book; read it.
Short Excerpt Teaser
I
ONE
Ellwood was a prefect, so his room that year was a splendid one, with a window that opened onto a strange outcrop of roof. He was always scrambling around places he shouldn't. It was Gaunt, however, who truly loved the roof perch. He liked watching boys dipping in and out of Fletcher Hall to pilfer biscuits, prefects swanning across the grass in Court, the organ master coming out of Chapel. It soothed him to see the school functioning without him, and to know that he was above it.
Ellwood also liked to sit on the roof. He fashioned his hands into guns and shot at the passers-by.
"Bloody Fritz! Got him in the eye! Take that home to the Kaiser!"
Gaunt, who had grown up summering in Munich, did not tend to join in these soldier games.
Balancing The Preshutian on his knee as he turned the page, Gaunt finished reading the last "In Memoriam." He had known seven of the nine boys killed. The longest "In Memoriam" was for Clarence Roseveare, the older brother of one of Ellwood's friends. As to Gaunt's own friend-and enemy-Cuthbert-Smith, a measly paragraph had sufficed to sum him up. Both boys, The Preshutian assured him, had died gallant deaths. Just like every other Preshute student who had been killed so far in the War.
"Pow!" muttered Ellwood beside him. "Auf Wiedersehen!"
Gaunt took a long drag of his cigarette and folded up the paper.
"They've got rather more to say about Roseveare than about Cuthbert-Smith, haven't they?"
Ellwood's guns turned back to hands. Nimble, long-fingered, ink-stained.
"Yes," he said, patting his hair absentmindedly. It was dark and unruly. He kept it slicked back with wax, but lived in fear of a stray curl coming unfixed and drawing the wrong kind of attention to himself. "Yes, I thought that was a shame."
"Shot in the stomach!" Gaunt's hand went automatically to his own. He imagined it opened up by a streaking piece of metal. Messy.
"Roseveare's cut up about his brother," said Ellwood. "They were awfully close, the three Roseveare boys."
"He seemed all right in the dining hall."
"He's not one to make a fuss," said Ellwood, frowning. He took Gaunt's cigarette, scrupulously avoiding touching Gaunt's hand as he did so. Despite Ellwood's tactile relationship with his other friends, he rarely laid a finger on Gaunt unless they were play-fighting. Gaunt would have died rather than let Ellwood know how it bothered him.
Ellwood took a drag and handed the cigarette back to Gaunt.
"I wonder what my ‘In Memoriam' would say," he mused.
" ‘Vain boy dies in freak umbrella mishap. Investigations pending.' "
"No," said Ellwood. "No, I think something more like ‘English literature today has lost its brightest star . . . !' " He grinned at Gaunt, but Gaunt did not smile back. He still had his hand on his stomach, as if his guts would spill out like Cuthbert-Smith's if he moved it. He saw Ellwood take this in.
"I'd write yours, you know," said Ellwood, quietly.
"All in verse, I suppose."
"Of course. As Tennyson did, for Arthur Hallam."
Ellwood frequently compared himself to Tennyson and Gaunt to Tennyson's closest friend. Mostly, Gaunt found it charming, except when he remembered that Arthur Hallam had died at the age of twenty-two and Tennyson had spent the next seventeen years writing grief poetry. Then Gaunt found it all a bit morbid, as if Ellwood wanted him to die, so that he would have something to write about.
Gaunt had kneed Cuthbert-Smith in the stomach, once. How different did a bullet feel from a blow?
"Your sister thought Cuthbert-Smith was rather good-looking," said Ellwood. "She told me at Lady Asquith's, last summer."
"Did she?" asked Gaunt, unenthusiastically. "Awfully nice of her to confide in you like that."
"Maud's A1," said Ellwood, standing abruptly. "Capital sort of girl." A bit of slate crumbled under his feet and fell to the ground, three stories below.
"Christ, Elly, don't do that!" said Gaunt, clutching the window ledge. Ellwood grinned and clambered back into the bedroom.
"Come on in, it's wet out there," he said.
Gaunt hurriedly took another breath of smoke and dropped his cigarette down a drainpipe. Ellwood was splayed out on the sofa, but when Gaunt sat on his legs, he curled them hastily out of the way.
"You loathed Cuthbert-Smith," said Ellwood.
"Yes. Well. I shall miss loathing him."
Ellwood laughed.
"You'll find someone new to hate. You always do."
"Undoubtedly," said Gaunt. But that wasn't the point. He had written nasty poems about Cuthbert-Smith, and Cuthbert-Smith (Gaunt was almost certain it was him) had scrawled, "Henry Gaunt is a German SPY" on the wall of...
ONE
Ellwood was a prefect, so his room that year was a splendid one, with a window that opened onto a strange outcrop of roof. He was always scrambling around places he shouldn't. It was Gaunt, however, who truly loved the roof perch. He liked watching boys dipping in and out of Fletcher Hall to pilfer biscuits, prefects swanning across the grass in Court, the organ master coming out of Chapel. It soothed him to see the school functioning without him, and to know that he was above it.
Ellwood also liked to sit on the roof. He fashioned his hands into guns and shot at the passers-by.
"Bloody Fritz! Got him in the eye! Take that home to the Kaiser!"
Gaunt, who had grown up summering in Munich, did not tend to join in these soldier games.
Balancing The Preshutian on his knee as he turned the page, Gaunt finished reading the last "In Memoriam." He had known seven of the nine boys killed. The longest "In Memoriam" was for Clarence Roseveare, the older brother of one of Ellwood's friends. As to Gaunt's own friend-and enemy-Cuthbert-Smith, a measly paragraph had sufficed to sum him up. Both boys, The Preshutian assured him, had died gallant deaths. Just like every other Preshute student who had been killed so far in the War.
"Pow!" muttered Ellwood beside him. "Auf Wiedersehen!"
Gaunt took a long drag of his cigarette and folded up the paper.
"They've got rather more to say about Roseveare than about Cuthbert-Smith, haven't they?"
Ellwood's guns turned back to hands. Nimble, long-fingered, ink-stained.
"Yes," he said, patting his hair absentmindedly. It was dark and unruly. He kept it slicked back with wax, but lived in fear of a stray curl coming unfixed and drawing the wrong kind of attention to himself. "Yes, I thought that was a shame."
"Shot in the stomach!" Gaunt's hand went automatically to his own. He imagined it opened up by a streaking piece of metal. Messy.
"Roseveare's cut up about his brother," said Ellwood. "They were awfully close, the three Roseveare boys."
"He seemed all right in the dining hall."
"He's not one to make a fuss," said Ellwood, frowning. He took Gaunt's cigarette, scrupulously avoiding touching Gaunt's hand as he did so. Despite Ellwood's tactile relationship with his other friends, he rarely laid a finger on Gaunt unless they were play-fighting. Gaunt would have died rather than let Ellwood know how it bothered him.
Ellwood took a drag and handed the cigarette back to Gaunt.
"I wonder what my ‘In Memoriam' would say," he mused.
" ‘Vain boy dies in freak umbrella mishap. Investigations pending.' "
"No," said Ellwood. "No, I think something more like ‘English literature today has lost its brightest star . . . !' " He grinned at Gaunt, but Gaunt did not smile back. He still had his hand on his stomach, as if his guts would spill out like Cuthbert-Smith's if he moved it. He saw Ellwood take this in.
"I'd write yours, you know," said Ellwood, quietly.
"All in verse, I suppose."
"Of course. As Tennyson did, for Arthur Hallam."
Ellwood frequently compared himself to Tennyson and Gaunt to Tennyson's closest friend. Mostly, Gaunt found it charming, except when he remembered that Arthur Hallam had died at the age of twenty-two and Tennyson had spent the next seventeen years writing grief poetry. Then Gaunt found it all a bit morbid, as if Ellwood wanted him to die, so that he would have something to write about.
Gaunt had kneed Cuthbert-Smith in the stomach, once. How different did a bullet feel from a blow?
"Your sister thought Cuthbert-Smith was rather good-looking," said Ellwood. "She told me at Lady Asquith's, last summer."
"Did she?" asked Gaunt, unenthusiastically. "Awfully nice of her to confide in you like that."
"Maud's A1," said Ellwood, standing abruptly. "Capital sort of girl." A bit of slate crumbled under his feet and fell to the ground, three stories below.
"Christ, Elly, don't do that!" said Gaunt, clutching the window ledge. Ellwood grinned and clambered back into the bedroom.
"Come on in, it's wet out there," he said.
Gaunt hurriedly took another breath of smoke and dropped his cigarette down a drainpipe. Ellwood was splayed out on the sofa, but when Gaunt sat on his legs, he curled them hastily out of the way.
"You loathed Cuthbert-Smith," said Ellwood.
"Yes. Well. I shall miss loathing him."
Ellwood laughed.
"You'll find someone new to hate. You always do."
"Undoubtedly," said Gaunt. But that wasn't the point. He had written nasty poems about Cuthbert-Smith, and Cuthbert-Smith (Gaunt was almost certain it was him) had scrawled, "Henry Gaunt is a German SPY" on the wall of...
