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226 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1919
"I decided that here was material for a story; a young man and woman, enthusiastic, ignorant, who had thought of their little political scuffles as war and who stumbled accidentally into the other kind of war - of bullets and blood and high explosives." Cicely Hamilton, as quoted by Nicola Beauman in the Preface to William: An Englishman.
They believed (quite rightly) in the purity of their own intentions; and concluded (quite wrongly) that the intentions of all persons who did not agree with them must therefore be evil and impure . . . They were, in short, very honest and devout sectarians - cocksure, contemptuous, intolerant, self-sacrificing after the manner of their kind.
Their creed, like their code of manners and morals, was identical or practically identical. It was a simple creed and they held to it loyally and faithfully. They believed in a large, vague and beautifully undefined identity, called by William the People, and by Griselda, Woman; who in the time to come was to accomplish much beautiful and undefined Good; and in whose service they were prepared meanwhile to suffer any amount of obloquy and talk any amount of nonsense. They believed that Society could be straightened and set right by the well-meaning efforts of well-meaning souls like themselves-aided by the Ballot, the Voice of the People, and Woman. They believed, in defiance of the teachings of history, that Democracy is another word for peace and goodwill towards men. They believed (quite rightly) in the purity of their own intentions; and concluded (quite wrongly) that the intentions of all persons who did not agree with them must therefore be evil and impure....They were, in short, very honest and devout sectarians-cocksure, contemptuous, intolerant, self-sacrificing after the manner of their kind.
There were moments when it seemed to him that he was asleep and would surely waken; when he put out his hand to touch something and feel that it resisted and was real-a dusty axle, a gate, a wall, the dusty bark of a fruit-tree. And there were other moments when the now was real, and he seemed to have newly wakened from the dream of a world impossible-of streets and stations and meals that came regularly, of life that was decent and reasonable and orderly, with men like unto himself....Late in the afternoon he started and lifted his head in sudden trembling recognition of a sound reminiscent, and because reminiscent beloved-the near-by whistle of a passing engine, the near-by clank of a train. The note of the whistle, the sight of a long line of trucks-but a field's breadth away behind a fence-brought a rush of hope to his heart and a rush of tears to his eyes. His soul thrilled with the promise of them; after the vagabond horror of the last few days they stood for decency, for civilization, for a means of escape from hell. His eyes followed the train with longing as it snorted over a level meadow and wound out of sight behind a hill-followed it with longing, with something that was almost love.
"His being 'pitchforked into the real thing' is the central theme of the book. The young couple, completely caught up in a different struggle, give their lives to Progress ('It was a very solemn little moment; affianced lovers, they dedicated themselves to their mission, the uplifting of the human race') and, leaving behind 'their purely urban environment of crowds, committees and grievances', set off on their honeymoon to the Ardennes."Just as World War I breaks out, and they find themselves behind enemy lines, and subsequently captured by German soldiers. The book details the events of that capture, contrasting the reality with the idealism that had heretofore been the dominant theme of their lives.
The lightness of tone [at the beginning of the novel] - the satire on the squabbles and smallnesses of the suffragette movement - lulls the reading into a false sense of security; only much later do we realise that is some ways we have been deliberately placed in the same situation as the hero and heroine.