[3.5] Don’t let my middling star rating dissuade you from reading “In Memoriam” if you’re a fan of war-set sagas. Unfortunately, I’ve rarely connected with this genre. It’s true that Winn’s beautifully written debut novel explores the complexities of LGBTQ themes in the World War I era. She tells the story of two young men who fall in love during a tumultuous time period. The characters are multidimensional and memorable. The storyline is intriguing. But my inexplicable disinterest in war tales prevailed. But don’t mind me: I was among a minority of moviegoers the who grumbled “Meh” after seeing “Dunkirk,” “The Hurt Locker” and even Saving Private Ryan.” The first third of the novel was the most intriguing as the author explored the dynamics of several fascinating characters during their adventures in boarding school. The genesis of this creatively structured work is also fascinating. In an interview with The Guardian, Winn recalled that she was web surfing and found that her old school had uploaded its student newspapers from early last century. Winn noted that “the novel came pouring out of me in two weeks – then I spent a year and a half editing.” ( )

I had heard a lot of positive things from friends who'd read this and it didn't disappoint—a solid, often gripping, story of two British public school boys/young men each silently in love with the other who both enlist to fight during WWI. It's a very strong first novel, where you can see Winn exerting very careful control over the pacing so that it's not all carnage—but I did feel that when the story left the trenches it lost some energy, I suppose by virtue of how do you write non-action action that stands up to that. But I was still drawn in, and I thought she did a good job of keeping the love story not too sentimental, given the backdrop. Plus you've got to hand it to the author for taking on that war as subject matter in the first place—it was an ugly, out-of-scale conflict (I know, when are wars not). ( )

I’m the kind of reader who stops to journal or jot down perfunctory passages. With this book, though, I didn’t stop to catch my breath. I couldn’t. I was held captive from the first page and wasn’t released until I reached the very last page. This feels like more than a story, bigger than a single story. It has all the romanticism of poetry and all the violence of Greek tragedy and all of the humanity of Shakespearean verse. It’s a brutal and beautiful story that needs to be told—this story about schoolboys who assuredly march off to war only to return as apparitions of men they used to be—because even if you survive, “It’s so much harder to be left behind” (147).

Besides being an engrossing story, it’s filled with haunting in memoriams and requiem letters and lines of poetry, making the dirge move quickly. And in between all the lamentable details are unexpected moments of joy and hope and even laughter. And it’s this hope that keeps you hanging on until the very end.

If you’re a fan of If We Were Villains or The Song of Achilles, this will surely make it to the the top of your recent reads, as it has mine—so much so that I almost have no words (just a whole bunch of emotions). In the words of Ellwood, quoting my favorite King Lear character, Cordelia: “‘I cannot heave my heart into my mouth’” (373). ( )

A poignant reminder about the horror and futility of war. I haven’t read such a powerful, sad WW1 story since Sebastian Faulk’s Birdsong. It is so incredibly hard to imagine what living in these times must have been like- thousands of young men slaughtered, or suffering with dreadful injuries, having been coerced into enlisting to “do the right thing” and convincing themselves it was noble to give their life for their country.
Amazing work for a debut novelist ( )

I have a soft spot for WW1 historical fiction. It usually depicts the clash of old-world values with the complete carnage that industrialized warfare brings. This novel was successful in that portrayal, with a twist of gay romance, but overall it was a mixed bag, to be honest.

This is not an easy read by any account. When the novel opens, we are introduced to the bubble of English public school boys who spend their days wandering the lush English countryside reciting poetry. There is a bit of underdeveloped, soft, hazy romance between the two main characters which reminded me a bit of Andre Aciman's writing, so much so that I had Visions of Gideon playing in my head during those chapters as the perfect soundtrack.

At this point, the war had already started, but it was far and it was glorious as were the "in memoriam" bits written about their fallen schoolmates in their school newspaper.
One by one, the boys enlist and what follows is the brutal account of a horrible reality; Ypres, Laas, Somme.

For me, the novel dwindled at one point here and never really recovered to the quality it held from the opening until about a halfway point. The author did a lot of research and took inspiration from many other books and real historical people which is very evident in the writing if you are familiar with the topic. It does feel a little patchworkish at times and although not inconceivable in reality, some events took turns that felt very contrived in a book so focused on a small cast of characters.

Winn keeps throwing her characters around like pawns that have very little agency while history we know well slowly unravels in front of their eyes. I don't have a problem with that as long as it is contained to the described period. But, this novel is a work of 2023 and it is very evident in the treatment of the characters and themes. I see a problem in that, but many will not.

In Memoriam maybe doesn't have the aura of a classic but it fills the void for those who want an LGBT romance in a wartime setting. 3.5 stars rounded up. ( )