First time in a long time I’ve cried after reading a book. The haunting and tragic way Charles and Julia split up at the end really got me. It resonates because we can feel when relationships are slipping away from us. That drawn out, painful process, at the end of which, the hope that’s constantly revived itself, finally dies.
And the sense of loss throughout the book.
Sebastian, both liberated by, and lost to, drink. He frees himself from the prison Lady M has created, but he’s in no state to enjoy the freedom. He survives, sedated, numb.
Lord M, abroad, chasing frivolous pleasures, can’t bear to be around the one woman he truly loved, who couldn’t reciprocate.
Lady M, wholly taken by her faith, which led her to have a quiet yet overwhelming influence with moralising and righteousness.
And finally, in the epilogue, when we see that all that existed has come to die, bar the servants who remain almost as ghosts, the faintest reminders that there used to be so much more there. The slow withering of potential.