55 pages • 1 hour read
Kaliane BradleyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Gore and a group of men walk 16 miles to use Cape Felix, a magnetic observatory, as a hunting base. Gore must keep the men, who are starving, freezing, and dying of thirst, from giving in to despair. There, at Cape Felix, the flash of lightning and doorway of blue light appear as Gore is extracted.
After the attack on Graham and the narrator, the Ministry moves all the expats and bridges to new safe houses and confines them to the premises. Adela gives the narrator a gun. Graham will barely look at the narrator as they transition to the new house. She accuses him of being weird about her kissing him. He says it shouldn’t have happened but then admits he’s been trying to court her. He doesn’t understand what women of this era want or what he has to offer. He says he stopped things because she was drunk and frightened. The narrator can’t understand his attitude. She asks him what he wants, and he asks her to undress. They have sex, and the narrator guides Graham through ways to please her. Later, she expresses surprise that he didn’t seem completely inexperienced. His responses intimate he’d had sexual experience but only with men, adding: “One is a long time at sea” (235).
The next day, the narrator meets with Adela, who explains that the number of people who can “free travel” through time via the time-door is finite. The Brigadier, who is from the future, wants to go home. To do so, he must kill one of the current free travelers, like Graham, to “make a space in the door” (238). The narrator tells Adela that the Brigadier used her fingerprint to disable the Ministry’s security cameras when Quentin was killed. Adela says she’ll deal with it.
Over the next few weeks, Graham, Cardingham, and the narrator spend time practicing their field agent skills, especially at the shooting range. Back at their safe house, the narrator and Graham escalate their relationship into a full-fledged romance. One night, Graham suggests they break the rules and go for a bike ride, citing the narrator’s need to let off steam because she’s been so stressed and afraid. He takes her to a field away from the city lights, where they can see a sky full of stars. She’s overcome by happiness.
By April 1848, Gore has been missing and presumed dead for eight months. Nine officers and 15 other men from his crew have died. The others now abandon the ships, hoping to walk 800 miles to reach civilization. They haul small boats containing all the supplies they need. Inuit natives try to help them survive, but they’re too weak and are unaccustomed to the harsh climate. Their number dwindles as they march. Only 30 or so of the original 100 or more make it to the final camp, which is still hundreds of miles from the nearest European outpost and which later explorers dub “starvation cove.” Far in the future, Gore learns what happened to his crew. He dreams about the horrors they endured and vows not to be responsible for another death.
The Ministry begins moving its top-secret data to a new and (they hope) secure server. The process is chaotic, riddled with glitches and malfunctions. While Simellia can no longer get a meeting with Adela or even a timely response to communications, the narrator retains a privileged status. She notices that the Ministry is devoting much less effort toward Arthur and Maggie’s adjustment and well-being than to Graham and Cardingham’s. At Adela’s urging, the narrator takes a course in unarmed combat. After six sessions, she spars with Adela, who’s a much stronger fighter. They talk about Graham’s introduction to historical tragedies like Auschwitz. Adela oddly emphasizes that the narrator hasn’t yet told him about the 9/11 attacks.
With special Ministry permission, the narrator takes Graham to Greenwich to see the memorial for the Franklin expedition, the Arctic voyage from which he was extracted. The memorial appears to receive little attention as if forgotten. Graham requests some time alone in the memorial chapel. Later, he asks the narrator about the report of cannibalism on the 800-mile march. Having known the crew, he can’t believe they’d resort to that. The narrator recalls when her mother took her to Cambodia to see the remains of what was once her family’s summer home, now only floor tiles buried under dirt and weeds. This helps the narrator understand that though the expats’ situation is technically different, they experience the same “rhythms of loss and asylum, exodus and loneliness” as other refugees (270). Graham and the narrator are making love when two calls come through from Adela, which Graham urges the narrator to ignore. When they finish, the narrator sees a text from Adela telling her to come in immediately.
The narrator describes an important turning point in the plot through the context of her romantic relationship with Graham: “All this unfolded in what I now know to call our last weeks” (245). She’s unaware in the moment that their relationship will end, and she can only connect its demise to her choices in hindsight. Informing readers beforehand that the relationship will end in a few weeks foreshadows future conflict and escalates tension and suspense. The narrator adds, “He combed his fingers through my hair and I was frightened with happiness, harrowed by it. There was no way that anyone could feel this much without also knowing they were going to lose it” (248), thereby conveying the tenderness between the two and increasing the pathos of the pending loss by emphasizing what the narrator has to lose.
By focusing on the changes to the narrator’s relationship with Graham, these chapters present the relationship itself as a form of conflict. Its transition from a professional relationship to friendship to romance satisfies the narrator’s longing for a man she has fallen in love with. However, Graham’s vulnerability as a refugee in time and the narrator’s position of authority also make that transition exploitative. As the narrator notes, “I suppose I mean to say that I’d betrayed him, because he’d been told I was his anchor, and instead I insisted he become mine” (271). She adds that he “lives in [her] like trauma does” (246). Within this relationship is a tension between love and exploitation; between right and wrong. This tension is a source of internal struggle for the narrator, who must examine the effects of her immediate choices in a story that examines many disastrous effects of humans’ choices over time. The relationship’s tension also has external consequences, which these chapters only foreshadow and which are developed later in the text.
The spotlight on the narrator’s romantic relationship with Graham in these chapters also explores the book’s portrayal of sexuality, love, and companionship by assessing romantic values in the context of different eras. The revelation of a seafaring Victorian man’s sexual experience occurring wholly among men, since expeditions took long periods, is one example of what surprises the narrator about sleeping with a man from the Victorian era and leads her to consider what has improved about romance and what has been lost. For example, the lack of rigid conventions and timelines for dating is “supposed to grant more of a sense of freedom and personal choice” and spares people from committing to “anything they don’t want” (241). The benefit of such change is questionable, however, if people no longer commit to anything. Delving deeper into the narrator’s description throws the truth of it into question as well, examining whether she truly has freedom of choice when her desire for Graham is so overwhelming. Given that she says, “I was concussed with love for him. I bent my head to the cudgel” and describes that love as “a form of blunt-force trauma” (237), her ability to make her own choice is doubtful.
In addition, the narrator observes that she doesn’t have the same sense of shame about sex and intimacy that Graham does, which she seems to view positively, but she also notes the lack of holiness. Many of the changes in modern romantic and sexual relationships have aimed for (and have achieved) greater equality. The text seems to suggest that some changes, however, have diminished the value of sex. Tonally, the text doesn’t convey a sharp criticism of either modern or Victorian romances. Instead, it asks readers to consider what is gained and what is lost as social values change and to recognize that progress in romance, as in every other social construct, isn’t objective or linear, which thematically foregrounds The Nonlinear, Subjective Nature of Social Change.
Books on Justice & Injustice
View Collection
Challenging Authority
View Collection
Class
View Collection
Class
View Collection
Community
View Collection
Earth Day
View Collection
Fate
View Collection
Globalization
View Collection
Good & Evil
View Collection
Loyalty & Betrayal
View Collection
Nation & Nationalism
View Collection
Order & Chaos
View Collection
Popular Book Club Picks
View Collection
Popular Study Guides
View Collection
Power
View Collection
Romance
View Collection
Safety & Danger
View Collection
The Best of "Best Book" Lists
View Collection
The Future
View Collection
The Past
View Collection
Trust & Doubt
View Collection
Truth & Lies
View Collection
Valentine's Day Reads: The Theme of Love
View Collection
War
View Collection