I just finished listening to Ian McEwan's Atonement, which, by coincidence, just landed at number 26 on the NY Times list of the best 100 books of the 21st century. I didn't get it. It has lots of lovely sentences and impressive paragraphs but I found the story to be a big nothing.
(I wonder, why didn't the Times wait until 2025? Did they want to get ahead of all the other people who might bring out their own lists at the quarter century?)
The novel consists of four long scenes. In the first, set in 1935 at the country house of a wealthy English family, there is an event, with repercussions, during which one person does something very bad. The middle two sections cover the World War II years, and end with a scene that makes it seem like the damage has been undone. Then we skip to 1997 when the author of the very bad deed reveals that she has written the whole thing and "actually" things transpired in a different and more depressing way.
This did not move me, it irritated me. What do you mean, "actually" happened? This is all made up. You want some kind of credit for facing the reality of your own creation? For fixing crimes in the meta-story that you invented in the story? For attempting to fool your readers, and then confessing to your lies? It's all a lie!
Wouldn't make any list of good books I was drawing up, and I find it baffling that so many people like it so much. Certainly doesn't belong ahead of A Brief History of Seven Killings, The Goldfinch, Savage Detectives, or a bunch of other books the Times ranked below it.
5 comments:
Sounds like a classic case of purchased praise to me.
And if that sounds far fetched to anyone, I'd like to note that Ian McEwan is an old and extremely well-established author, with a net worth estimated to be at least $10 million, and his full name is "Ian Russell McEwan CH CBE FRSA FRSL". You don't get those extra letters without connections.
He built his entire career (and his fortune) on getting to know "the right people", ingratiating himself to them, and writing books that appeal to their tastes.
"This did not move me, it irritated me. What do you mean, "actually" happened? This is all made up. You want some kind of credit for facing the reality of your own creation? For fixing crimes in the meta-story that you invented in the story? For attempting to fool your readers, and then confessing to your lies? It's all a lie!"
Yeah, well, when Venessa Redgrave reveals the lie in the movie it's quite impressive, even stunning. The closeup of her face as she reveals what really happened is mesmerizing. A two minute Oscar-worthy performance. And aren't you bing a little tough on fiction? iI mean it's fiction. Criticizing fiction for lying about something made up rather puts fiction in a pickle, don't you think. I mean we have people writing fictitious memoirs.
@Shadow
I loved that Vanessa Redgrave scene. It was a supreme moment in a movie which otherwise I liked but did not love.
A reader has every right to find a work paltry and irritating, and to express that. But, to be fair, one could probably describe the Iliad in terms similar to "there is an event, with repercussions, during which one person does something very bad" and make it sound stupid. Nor do I see a problem with a novel that creates a universe/story using concepts of truth and falsehood about what "actually" happened within its universe. Not every work of fiction has to be self-conscious about its fictiveness. Surely there are plenty of stories, including some John likes, that are built on, or a least contain, a supposed truth that is later revealed to be a lie.
I say all this without any special desire to defend "Atonement," the novel. I've never read it and don't plan to.
The movie was aesthetically pleasing. Remember the lawn -- is it evening? -Is that Kiera Knightly waiting? Do I remember correctly?
@Shadow
I, for one, can't answer your questions. I'm afraid I don't remember the movie that well.
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