Wired Love
Sep. 9th, 2013 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arduinnaA while back, someone somewhere on DW recced this book; I've long since lost the tab I had open for it, but thank you, if it was one of you!
The full name is "Wired Love: A Romance of Dots and Dashes", and it's available on Project Gutenberg for free download in multiple formats.
I downloaded it when I first spotted the rec, because it sounded interesting: a 19th century novel about a romance conducted over the telegraph. It's a pretty straightforward, gentle romance as they go, with some misunderstandings and broken hearts and quiet jealousy mixed in before the inevitable happy ending. But it's fascinating in many other ways. It really doesn't feel like it's more than 130 years old.
The protagonist is Nattie, a young woman (about 18 years old) making her way in the world; she lives in a boarding house with several other young adults -- both men and women -- with two older landladies in residence (one sympathetic to youthful spirits, one emphatically not) but no real chaperonage to speak of. Only one young woman is there with a parent; the others are all living on their own, making friends and social connections on their own terms. Two of them, a man and a woman, are self-identified bohemians.
Nattie works as a telegraph operator, a field that was apparently quite open to women; when a new operator appears "on the wire" one day, she wonders whether it's a man or a woman. The two of them start chatting back and forth (to the annoyance of some other operators on the wire), and Nattie immediately becomes very interested in this "C", even unsure of whether it's a man or a woman. The mystery doesn't last long, of course; "C" turns out to be a man, and eventually she finds out his name is Clem, but it's really cool, this century-old gender-uncertain interaction. Very Internet-y. *g*
I had to stop reading a few chapters in and go look up the author -- Ella Cheever Thayer -- because it felt so much like a put-on, or like a Victorian AU of a modern internet romance. It wasn't just the relatively modern sensibilities of the characters, either, but the steady underlying awareness of tech.
For example, at one point, Nattie is telling her friends about some of the silly requests she gets in her job (some of that is very![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
customers_suck material), and mentions one young woman who came in asking for Nattie to write down her message, then corrected the writing and threw it down in disgust, saying it's unreadable and that she'll have to write it herself, as the recipient knows her writing.
That's the point at which I said no way was this written in 1880, and went to look Thayer up. It's for real, though; she based this book (a 10-year bestseller!) on her experience as a telegraph operator in Boston.
The modern-sounding bits don't stop there, though. As Nattie and Clem get to know each other better, someone else on the wire gets more and more cranky at their flirting, and starts interrupting them every chance he gets, making snide remarks that he pretends come from one or the other of them. Like, Clem asks "Then I am not such a disagreeable fellow as I might be?" and before Nattie can answer, the other person jumps in with "Oh, yes you are!". Nattie explains that wasn't her, and that she didn't know how she'd get through her days now, without Clem to talk with. Clem returns the compliment, delighted. The narration notes that it's a pity that no "telegraphic instrument" exists yet to "carry the blush on Nattie's cheeks for his eyes to see" (Skype!), then:
At which point I cracked UP. Telegraphic trolls! That's awesome.
Except it turns out I was a little more invested in this frothy little romance than I thought, because a bit later on, Clem takes a day off, he says to help at another station, and that same day, someone shows up at Nattie's window, as creepy as can be, to spout some of Clem's flirty lines at her and convince her that he's really Clem.
... I had to stop reading. I couldn't cope with the obvious in-person trolling, which Nattie had totally failed to recognize, and instead believed that this was Clem.
*facepalm*
But a few weeks later, I had enough distance to pick it back up again, and while there was some uncomfortableness and unhappiness and misunderstanding about the trolling, things moved right along and that got sorted out, as Clem moves to the same city as Nattie and by sheer happenstance winds up at the same boarding house.
Theirs isn't the only romance; there's Quimby, who is full of unrequited longing for Nattie; Celeste, who sets her cap at the oblivious, and hapless, Quimby; and a late-breaking romantic yearning from bohemian Jo (a man, although the spelling kept throwing me off) for bohemian Cyn, Nattie's best friend (well, it was late-breaking from Jo's perspective, but the narrative was aware of it all along). And there are misunderstandings galore, which is a bit frustrating on the "just talk about it omg" end of things, but things do get talked out eventually, so that's all good.
It's not all roses and sunshine at the end, either; not all of the couples wind up happy.
In a move that astonished me, Cyn completely, and kindly, rebuffed Jo when he finally got up the bottle to approach her, saying she'd never love again after having her heart broken, and swearing she'd only ever be friends with anyone from this point forward. And she clearly meant it; she loved Jo as a friend, and didn't mind that he loved her romantically, she just couldn't return it and wouldn't pretend otherwise.
Which is all sort of amazing on its own -- seriously? A young woman in 1880 gives up a chance at a decent man who loves her desperately and respects her intellectual and artistic abilities, because she feels she can only be friends with men? Wow. (The book didn't even go the "I want to live my life on the stage", which would have been completely valid, as Cyn clearly has both aspiration and talent in that direction. She just isn't interested in men anymore.)
But it's also a really cool counterpoint to Quimby, who doesn't have Cyn's confidence or spine, and winds up agreeing to a marriage he has no interest in, letting himself be steamrollered by Celeste at every turn after he unwittingly asks her to marry him. Cyn is clearly going to be much happier in her bohemian independence than Quimby will be in his traditional role of husband and probably eventual father. (Even though he also clearly needs someone pretty damn strong-willed in his life.)
Basically, Cyn starts out as Nattie's bubbly new friend, and winds up being the most interesting person in the entire story. Nattie herself is a perfectly average girl, ambitious for something in life but she doesn't know what, romantic without realizing it, happy to be in love, a good enough friend to step back when she thinks her friend's happiness is at stake (which I have to digress to say: wow, do I like the way these youngsters handle jealousy. There's a fair bit of it around, but no one is ever unkind because of it. These are good people.). I like Nattie a lot. But Cyn is something else again.
There's nothing particularly deep in the story itself, but it's a lot of fun reading something from so long ago that could so effortlessly be transplanted to internet-based life today. And if you're looking for some pleasant fluff about decent people who treat each other well, with a few small exceptions to keep things from being too bland, this may be right up your alley.
... I am ridiculous, and have been arguing with myself for an hour whether I should split this into two posts to avoid spoiling people who maybe want to read some of this but not all of it. Never mind that I've got cut tags in to keep that from happening.
Or that this is a 130+ year old book that I think got mentioned on Boing Boing a few months ago and really, 130 years old. And not very fannish, other than the fun culture echoes.
But still, sometimes you hit "reply" and then you've got the bottom of the post with all its spoilers right in your face!
So, um, have some journal-based spoiler space. La la la.
The full name is "Wired Love: A Romance of Dots and Dashes", and it's available on Project Gutenberg for free download in multiple formats.
I downloaded it when I first spotted the rec, because it sounded interesting: a 19th century novel about a romance conducted over the telegraph. It's a pretty straightforward, gentle romance as they go, with some misunderstandings and broken hearts and quiet jealousy mixed in before the inevitable happy ending. But it's fascinating in many other ways. It really doesn't feel like it's more than 130 years old.
The protagonist is Nattie, a young woman (about 18 years old) making her way in the world; she lives in a boarding house with several other young adults -- both men and women -- with two older landladies in residence (one sympathetic to youthful spirits, one emphatically not) but no real chaperonage to speak of. Only one young woman is there with a parent; the others are all living on their own, making friends and social connections on their own terms. Two of them, a man and a woman, are self-identified bohemians.
Nattie works as a telegraph operator, a field that was apparently quite open to women; when a new operator appears "on the wire" one day, she wonders whether it's a man or a woman. The two of them start chatting back and forth (to the annoyance of some other operators on the wire), and Nattie immediately becomes very interested in this "C", even unsure of whether it's a man or a woman. The mystery doesn't last long, of course; "C" turns out to be a man, and eventually she finds out his name is Clem, but it's really cool, this century-old gender-uncertain interaction. Very Internet-y. *g*
I had to stop reading a few chapters in and go look up the author -- Ella Cheever Thayer -- because it felt so much like a put-on, or like a Victorian AU of a modern internet romance. It wasn't just the relatively modern sensibilities of the characters, either, but the steady underlying awareness of tech.
For example, at one point, Nattie is telling her friends about some of the silly requests she gets in her job (some of that is very
customers_suck material), and mentions one young woman who came in asking for Nattie to write down her message, then corrected the writing and threw it down in disgust, saying it's unreadable and that she'll have to write it herself, as the recipient knows her writing. "Can such things be!" cried Miss Archer.
"But," asked Quimby, from his uncomfortable perch on the edge of a chair, "Isn't there a -- a something -- a fac-simile arrangement?"
"I believe there is, but it is not yet perfected," replied Nattie.
"Ah, well! then the young woman was only in advance of the age," said Miss Archer; "and what with that and the telephone, and that dreadful phonograph that bottles up all one says and disgorges at inconvenient times, we will soon be able to do everything by electricity; who knows but some genius will invent something for the especial use of lovers? something, for instance, to carry in their pockets, so when they are far away from each other, and pine for a sound of 'that beloved voice,' they will have only to take up this electronical apparatus, put it to their ears, and be happy. Ah! blissful lovers of the future!"
That's the point at which I said no way was this written in 1880, and went to look Thayer up. It's for real, though; she based this book (a 10-year bestseller!) on her experience as a telegraph operator in Boston.
The modern-sounding bits don't stop there, though. As Nattie and Clem get to know each other better, someone else on the wire gets more and more cranky at their flirting, and starts interrupting them every chance he gets, making snide remarks that he pretends come from one or the other of them. Like, Clem asks "Then I am not such a disagreeable fellow as I might be?" and before Nattie can answer, the other person jumps in with "Oh, yes you are!". Nattie explains that wasn't her, and that she didn't know how she'd get through her days now, without Clem to talk with. Clem returns the compliment, delighted. The narration notes that it's a pity that no "telegraphic instrument" exists yet to "carry the blush on Nattie's cheeks for his eyes to see" (Skype!), then:
She commenced a reply, expressing her pleasure, but was unable to finish it, on account of that unknown and disagreeable operator somewhere on the line, who kept breaking the circuit after every letter she made. Nor was "C" allowed to write anything either. This was a trick by which they had often been annoyed of late.
For, on the wire in the telegraphic world, as well as elsewhere, are idle, mischief-making people, who cannot endure to see others enjoying themselves, if they also have no share.
At which point I cracked UP. Telegraphic trolls! That's awesome.
Except it turns out I was a little more invested in this frothy little romance than I thought, because a bit later on, Clem takes a day off, he says to help at another station, and that same day, someone shows up at Nattie's window, as creepy as can be, to spout some of Clem's flirty lines at her and convince her that he's really Clem.
... I had to stop reading. I couldn't cope with the obvious in-person trolling, which Nattie had totally failed to recognize, and instead believed that this was Clem.
*facepalm*
But a few weeks later, I had enough distance to pick it back up again, and while there was some uncomfortableness and unhappiness and misunderstanding about the trolling, things moved right along and that got sorted out, as Clem moves to the same city as Nattie and by sheer happenstance winds up at the same boarding house.
Theirs isn't the only romance; there's Quimby, who is full of unrequited longing for Nattie; Celeste, who sets her cap at the oblivious, and hapless, Quimby; and a late-breaking romantic yearning from bohemian Jo (a man, although the spelling kept throwing me off) for bohemian Cyn, Nattie's best friend (well, it was late-breaking from Jo's perspective, but the narrative was aware of it all along). And there are misunderstandings galore, which is a bit frustrating on the "just talk about it omg" end of things, but things do get talked out eventually, so that's all good.
It's not all roses and sunshine at the end, either; not all of the couples wind up happy.
In a move that astonished me, Cyn completely, and kindly, rebuffed Jo when he finally got up the bottle to approach her, saying she'd never love again after having her heart broken, and swearing she'd only ever be friends with anyone from this point forward. And she clearly meant it; she loved Jo as a friend, and didn't mind that he loved her romantically, she just couldn't return it and wouldn't pretend otherwise.
Which is all sort of amazing on its own -- seriously? A young woman in 1880 gives up a chance at a decent man who loves her desperately and respects her intellectual and artistic abilities, because she feels she can only be friends with men? Wow. (The book didn't even go the "I want to live my life on the stage", which would have been completely valid, as Cyn clearly has both aspiration and talent in that direction. She just isn't interested in men anymore.)
But it's also a really cool counterpoint to Quimby, who doesn't have Cyn's confidence or spine, and winds up agreeing to a marriage he has no interest in, letting himself be steamrollered by Celeste at every turn after he unwittingly asks her to marry him. Cyn is clearly going to be much happier in her bohemian independence than Quimby will be in his traditional role of husband and probably eventual father. (Even though he also clearly needs someone pretty damn strong-willed in his life.)
Basically, Cyn starts out as Nattie's bubbly new friend, and winds up being the most interesting person in the entire story. Nattie herself is a perfectly average girl, ambitious for something in life but she doesn't know what, romantic without realizing it, happy to be in love, a good enough friend to step back when she thinks her friend's happiness is at stake (which I have to digress to say: wow, do I like the way these youngsters handle jealousy. There's a fair bit of it around, but no one is ever unkind because of it. These are good people.). I like Nattie a lot. But Cyn is something else again.
There's nothing particularly deep in the story itself, but it's a lot of fun reading something from so long ago that could so effortlessly be transplanted to internet-based life today. And if you're looking for some pleasant fluff about decent people who treat each other well, with a few small exceptions to keep things from being too bland, this may be right up your alley.
... I am ridiculous, and have been arguing with myself for an hour whether I should split this into two posts to avoid spoiling people who maybe want to read some of this but not all of it. Never mind that I've got cut tags in to keep that from happening.
Or that this is a 130+ year old book that I think got mentioned on Boing Boing a few months ago and really, 130 years old. And not very fannish, other than the fun culture echoes.
But still, sometimes you hit "reply" and then you've got the bottom of the post with all its spoilers right in your face!
So, um, have some journal-based spoiler space. La la la.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 08:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 03:57 am (UTC)Also, man, I'm cranky at Hollywood -- I have never once seen a movie or tv show where a woman was a telegraph operator, to the point that I was completely taken aback at both Nattie's job and her assumption that other women were doing the same thing. And yet clearly, it was the precursor to telephone operator in *many* ways, and no one blinked at women doing this work!
Hmf.
... But, er, yes, this is pretty adorable, you should give it a shot! It's got an innocence to it, but it's never precious.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 01:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 02:38 am (UTC)