The Mathematics of Love

This is Emma Darwin’s first book, and it’s a good read – I couldn’t put it down. On the other hand, once you analyse it, it really doesn’t work. The ending’s disappointing, and the supernatural element doesn’t quite fit; you’re not sure what all the different pieces – why 1970’s, why 1819? – are supposed to mean. But the characters are interesting and sympathetic, and the story moves on at a good pace. It works emotionally, even though intellectually it doesn’t quite make sense.

Stephen Fairhurst is recovering after the horrors of Waterloo, and trying to deal with the past, including his great love and a child. He meets a family and becomes close friends with one of the women, an artist. She helps his recover his child and some meaning in his life. This story is interspersed with that of Anna in 1976 who is sent to her uncle’s place – the Fairhurst house – and discovers love and photography and a sense of history. The link between the two is letters, but also a mysterious little boy who is part of both worlds.

It’s well-written and flows nicely. I do feel suspicious about these 1819 women who are so liberated in their opinions, and the men too, actually, about war and women’s freedom and sexuality. Anna’s shock at 1970’s morality seems far more realistic. So it doesn’t quite work, but it’s still a great read, anyway.