Elizabeth is no 18th century debutante, but she is not without doubts and missteps either. Memoirs is rich beyond belief. When the ancien regime falls, when the great minds expound, it feels close and real because it is all intimately woven into Elizabeth's life. She lives Rousseau's idea of the noble savage. She and the unstable Victor seek treatment from the controversial Dr. Mesmer.
Women are midwives and mistrusted, women are witches and burned.
It is remarkable that the book's achievements are equal to its heady, intricate ambition. In an issue-laden novel that uses an individual's life to theorize and expound, the intimacy with that individual is neither lost, misplaced, nor subsumed. If that weren't enough, Roszak also nails the flavor of the era in the style of his prose. This is just short of miraculous, but the miracle is earthy enough to be believable. The panache of Memoirs is historical, without being irrelevant, and it provokes fear without a bogeyman.