In many ways, A.S. Byatt’s “Possession,” winner of the 1990 Booker Prize, is a literal interpretation of dark academia. The content is as academic as it comes, and the 555 pages of dense writing can make the bravest reader lose any hope of making it to the end.
The story starts when frustrated scholar Roland Mitchell finds a letter that suggests the great poet he’s researching, Randolph Henry Ash, had a secret love affair with fellow writer Christabel LaMotte. Roland joins forces with Maud Bailey, a sharp, emotionally guarded academic, and the pair embark on a literary investigation — racing through the countryside, libraries, and graveyards — to find the truth before it disappears. Caught up in the gravitational pull of the past, their story starts to mirror the one they’re searching for.
The construction of the novel is both its crowning glory and greatest setback. Byatt doesn’t tell stories, as much as chronicle them. “Possession” is a feat of literary creation, and each meticulously crafted sentence serves as a testament to Byatt’s intelligence. Her descriptions are stunningly intricate, but endless, so if you’re someone who got frustrated with Donna Tartt’s “The Secret History,” then Byatt is your worst nightmare. Much of the affair is told through heaps of poetry, journal entries, and letters — realistic enough to feel unearthed rather than invented. It’s engaging, but difficult to read: more fascinating as a whole than it is page to page. The writing is inherently British, with sly humor and a subtle comedy of manners.
If you successfully work through the language, “Possession” rewards patience. Somehow, amidst exhaustive detail, there’s still room for curiosity. The writing is lovely, the parallels satisfying, and there’s a sense of accomplishment in uncovering the love affair alongside the characters. Ultimately, the story is a beautiful meditation on how emotion and knowledge intertwine, how stories survive and repeat, and how discovery is always an act of passion.
