Erik Larson’s “Thunderstruck” intertwines the disparate stories of Guglielmo Marconi, an obsessive tinkerer turned scientific magician, and Hawley Crippen, an unsuspecting and sympathetic killer. Larson’s historical and narrative style envelops readers in 19th-century Edwardian London. Against this background, Marconi decides to invent a coherer — a primitive radio signal detector — that can send messages over long distances. Though physicists deem his feat impossible, Marconi fights against established theory and transforms communication. On a separate track, Crippen finds himself in a tumultuous marriage with his vivacious, physically striking wife Cora. He commits nearly the perfect murder. Their stories collide on a foggy morning aboard a ship to America.
As a self-proclaimed humanities girl, my brain conveniently tunes out math and science. When my grandma gifted “Thunderstruck” to me, I set a goal of reading a single chapter (I know, ambitious). To my surprise, Larson energized the scientific world. Captivated by Marconi wounding coils of wire and testing electrical energy in his dust-covered laboratory, I devoured pages.
During this historical period, scientific advancement boomed in the realm of electricity and magnetism. The race to harness invisible energy revealed a rift between theoreticians, who at the time devised equations to explain phenomena, and practicians, inventors who blindly tinkered.
In the novel, Oliver Lodge, a professor of physics, hosted a lecture at the prestigious Royal Institution. When academics filled the hall, Lodge set off a spark that caused a reaction in a distant, unattached coherer. The audience marveled. But Lodge failed to see the practical use of Hertzian waves.
Far across the world, an idea sparked in Marconi’s mind. Could he use Hertz’s invisible waves to send messages through the air? At the time, no means of communicating without wires existed. Driven by inner conviction and obsession, Marconi set off to transform his idea into reality.
While theocratic science deemed transmitting waves over distances impossible, Marconi dismissed the established theory and fell back on trial and error. The sheer surprise of Marconi’s — an uneducated practitioner — discoveries swiftly branded him a fraud.
Larson, in a humorous tone, lets the physical appearance of his characters reveal their demeanor. Crippen, an average middle-aged man and eye doctor, married Cora Turner, a seventeen-year-old beauty with a vain dream of operatic stardom. Crippen’s short stature and retreating hairline conspire to keep him lonely. But Crippen has a few assets. Crippen’s large eyes and thick glasses convey warmth and sympathy, and his sharp suits impart prosperity. As they say, opposites attract. Or more accurately, money attracts. Crippen’s gentle presence collides with Cora’s boisterous personality. Her voluptuous figure emboldens her erratic behavior. Their dynamic quickly becomes volatile. Larson describes Crippen’s disenchantment with Cora, “What had seemed impulsive and charming began to appear volatile and wearing, even alarming.”
Acting as the affectionate and indulgent husband, Crippen enables Cora’s lofty pursuits, throwing money at opera lessons, luxurious clubs and even her evenings with other men. But Crippen’s desire to make his mistress happy transformed into bubbling resentment.
Larson converges the accent of Marconi with the descent of Crippen on the foggy journey aboard the SS Montrose to America. Captain Henry George Kendell navigates both the vast sea and the new, almost supernatural means of wireless communication, named Marconi. Before leaving, Kendell opens London’s Daily Mail to learn about the escalating search for the Cellar Murder. Disguised by his polite and gentle demeanor, Crippen calmly boards the vessel to America. Connecting the dots, Kendall sent wireless messages to authorities. The unfolding saga revealed the power of Marconi’s invention.
Larson animates his characters and playfully exposes the rifts plaguing Edwardian London. Larson welcomes those of us who are not naturally inclined scientific geniuses by focusing on the behind-the-scenes drama between Marconi and the scientific community. Devoid of cliches, Larson wields unique adjectives to paint his characters, describing Crippen as “docile as a kitten” and Cora as “robust and animal.” I recommend this book to anyone interested in a niche part of history.
Rating: 5/5
