Enlightenment
by Sarah Perry
To give love without receiving it is to understand we are made in the image of God – because the love of God is immense and indiscriminate and can never be returned to the same degree. So, if you go on loving when your love is unreturned, it makes you just a little lower than the angels.
After Melmoth, her masterpiece of “theological Gothic”, Sarah Perry returns with Enlightenment, a novel which is, I would say, more “theological” than “Gothic”. The key character of Perry’s latest work is one Thomas Hart, a newspaper columnist from the Essex town of Aldleigh. Thomas seems a man of another age, always impeccably – if old-fashionedly – dressed. His writing style and choice of subject matter is also quite anachronistic, which is possibly why the newspaper editor encourages him to consider “the moon” as a potential new subject for his column. From this unlikely suggestion, Thomas develops a fascination with astronomy and, parallelly, an obsession with the mysterious figure of Maria Veduva, a 19th century astronomer who lived in Aldleigh until she, seemingly, disappeared without a trace while on the cusp of a major discovery.
Thomas worships at the Bethesda chapel in the town, a community of strict Baptists who try to lead a life detached from the modern world. But it is no spoiler (it is a fact revealed early on in the novel) that Thomas is a closet homosexual, who indulges in occasional same-sex dalliances in the city. He effectively leads a double life : “in Bethesda ... the worst of sinners, and in London the strangest of saints”.
One of the reasons drawing Thomas back to Bethesda is Grace Macauley, the daughter of the community’s preacher, orphaned of her mother who died at her birth. Thomas acts as a sort of godfather to Grace, and feels responsible for ensuring that, through him, she sees enough of the outside world to enable to survive outside the rigid yet protective boundaries of her community.
Enlightenment is divided into three parts set in different years, roughly at intervals of a decade: 1997, 2008 and 2018. The passage of time shows us both Thomas and Grace growing up (or growing old), both yearning for the simpler life of Bethesda as they are unsettled by unexpected attractions – Grace is drawn to Nathan, a boy of her age from outside the Baptist community, whereas Thomas develops a crush on James Bower, the curator of the local museum, with whom he investigates the shadowy history of Maria Veduva. Throughout, the heavens act as a real and metaphorical backdrop to the story, a poetical lens through which to read the themes of the book.
Like the novel I read just before it (Kerry Andrew’s We are here because), Enlightenment left me in two minds, at times in awe of its brilliance, at others frustrated by its quirks. What is most mystifying is that these elements are often the two sides of the same coin.
So let me start with some things I liked about the novel. First and foremost, I loved the fact that Perry tackles religious subjects head on. “Religion” is not simply a quaint plot-driver for her. The novel is a theological one which grapples with such themes as God, faith, doubt, sin, forgiveness, suffering, redemption, love. Outside of the “Christian fiction” market I cannot think of many major contemporary novelists who make of theology a focal point of their work.
Another element I liked in the novel is that, in what is ultimately a “novel of ideas”, Perry has no qualms about including elements of genre fiction. The Maria Veduva thread provides opportunities for mystery, suspense and even a touch of the Gothic (particularly in Maria’s ghostly figure, which accompanies Thomas like a guide). My disappointment here lies in the fact that the development of this narrative sometimes seems rather half-hearted and in certain respects unconvincing.
In a novel, I like an original narrative voice. Enlightenment certainly provides one although it needs some getting used to. The novel, in fact, is written in a style with a Biblical and Victorian ring to it. I found this perplexing at the start, until I realised that this is meant to evoke the pen of Thomas Hart – his newspaper columns are interwoven into the text, and the novel itself is, possibly, the work he is shown to be working on in his final years. The problem is that the style of old-fashioned Thomas Hart, while giving the novel its unique flavour, can become heavygoing, which is an issue in what is a longish book.
To sum up, I feel conflicted about this book. One part of me considers this a great work – a haunting story with interesting characters, a major literary effort exploring big existential themes. Another part of me found some aspects of the novel rather artificial, as if one could glimpse the machinery in action behind the facade. I would still recommend it, but be warned that it is something of an acquired taste.
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