The Lightning Conductor

<p>You hold in your hands a delightful volume that combines several literally forms. It is first and foremost a romance a very proper romance along the lines of Pride and Prejudice. No bodice-ripping here. In a sense The Lightening Conductor is a farce as well. The characters bumble along oblivious of each others’ station and identity reminiscent of every Gilbert&Sullivan love story although I am afraid there are no pirates. Perhaps an old-maid aunt plays the role of nursemaid well as she accompanies Molly the young heroine on a ramble from London to Italy in a new-to-the-world contraption an automobile. Yes the framework for this tale is a road trip. It is a travelogue in the tradition of early Robert Louis Stephenson ( <em>An Inland Voyage  Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes </em>) and Mark Twain (<em>Roughing it Huckleberry Finn</em>). But the most remarkable feature of this wonderful book is that it is one of the best examples of the epistolary form that I have ever encountered. It is written entirely as letters not between the two protagonists but between each and a trusted confidante.</p>