The PowerBook
by Jeanette Winterson
Vintage, 256pp

Written at a time when the Internet was a fascinating but dangerous new phenomena

and full of huge possibilities, The Powerbook seeks to take the reader anywhere in

time. The narrator, Ali, has set up shop in cyberspace and sells stories through a

series of email interactions. She offers “Freedom just for one night” to her customers

allowing them to forget who they are and take on a new persona anywhere from the

past to now. Yet all these stories are about ‘Great and Ruinous Lovers’ like Guinevere

and Lancelot, Tristan and Isolde, Paolo and Francesca. It is through these interactions

that Ali meets her lover, who keeps coming back for more stories. Soon the reader is

whisked off to Paris, Capri and London as slowly the line between storytelling and

reality seems to blur as the dialogue becomes more interactive between the two lovers

and more detail is given of their surroundings.

The book’s first edition – the one that Winterson had any say in at all – is designed

to open like a laptop. Chapters open with computer symbols and commands such

as “VIEW AS ICON” that put the reader under the impression of reading a computer manual. The first chapter begins with symbols of male and female chromosomes ‘X’ and ‘Y’, character defining ways which can be completely discarded and changed around in

cyberspace. Identity can be discarded and reconstructed, even gender. But the writing

itself also has a lyricism in its tone as Winterson repetitively emphasizes the universality of passion and feeling. This will either hammer the point home for some while switching others off.

The plot is arguably another one of Winterson’s that is all too familiar; a woman falls

in love with another woman who is married and must make that ultimate decision of

whether to leave her husband for her lover. Winterson’s own lesbian identity is the

driving force behind this as well as her never-ending concerns with gender, sexuality

and love. But what she seems to want to point out is that all stories are the same and

have been told before, and so it is not what you tell but how you tell it. For Winterson

stories are not just stories, and life is not just life; they are both interlinked and define

each other. The novel – if it can be called that – is carefully constructed. The stories

being told are tied together cleverly into the structure of the greater plot that seems to

almost become a subplot due to the overwhelming force of Winterson’s storytelling

technique. Only the writer has any power in this book despite the impression that the

title gives off of a DIY manual. The book itself though is an easy read even with its

fragmented narrative. What will no doubt resonate in the reader’s mind afterwards is

the way in which Winterson uses technology as a tool to ornately rework some well-

known stories and incidents across different cultures and history.

Durre Mughal is a young writer based at Cardiff Metropolitan University.