Published in Incorporating Writing, Issue 5 Vol 2, April 2008
An intricately crafted tale of tension and morality; Ian McEwan's new work On Chesil Beach is a beautiful and eloquent achievement. This is a book to devour, re-read and ponder - densely packed with insight and accessible reflections of relationships and intimacy.
The novella follows the relationship between Edward and Florence. We first encounter the couple on their wedding night - the pivotal point of their relationship. The tension of this scene is born of the early 1960's, of each individual finding their place in both this changing society and their relationship. In their honeymoon suite, Edward and Florence negotiate consummating their marriage - a long awaited moment for Edward whilst a nightmarish scenario for his new bride.
The couple are deeply in love, yet the expectations of their first sexual encounter show the intricate interplay between sex and love, and the implications for the couple. As their relationship (and the readers' understanding of the pair) delves beyond their newly-wed ideal we discover their characters afresh and further understand the facades in action. What isn't said is far more important here than what is. These pretences and conformities, whilst most often of the little white lie variety, open up a gulf between the characters and become a separate entity in the relationship. McEwan unfolds each protagonist delicately, encouraging revisits to On Chesil Beach to unveil further motivations and meanings.
Flitting between crisp reporting and woozy nostalgia, McEwan creates empathy for both protagonists in his enticing use of tone and pace. The sense of tension is ruthless, ebbing in and out to its crescendo. The structure and pace of On Chesil Beach is fluid and musical, its echo found in Florence, an aspiring musician. As she becomes more self-assured, the pace quickens and even in her eventual absence she dominates the tone. Edward, in contrast, is an historian, thinking factually, and this is clear through his responsive, analytical narrative. The (almost fated) deep attraction between Edward and Florence is explored through his studies. The recurring activities and consequences of humanity and the inevitability of change are both universally and personally understood; rights of passage are socially and historically enforced. As Florence reflects, stood on the shore, the wedding night is 'a minor theme in a larger pattern', both for the characters and as a critique of human relationships in general. Perhaps stereotypical to gender, these aspects of each protagonist complement each other and succinctly develop each character. On Chesil Beach may not be so successful were it more lengthy. It is McEwan's commanding insight and the resulting intensity which give the novella its power.
Twin standards plague this relationship. Florence has been brought up straddling tradition and revolution (i.e. her father's driving lessons encouraging her independence) yet she is trapped by her refined loneliness. The English stiff upper lip and the expectations and implications of marriage cage the couple; Florence craves the freedom to explore their own interpretation of marriage. Both characters are deeply lonely, but they are lonely together. Unable to talk about her emotions even with Edward, her most intimate confidante, Florence's character explores the contrasts between sex, love and intimacy both as a reflection on past values and a critique of modern morality. As a reflection of Florence's blossoming individuality, Edward's mother thwarts explanation and preconceptions; dominating the narrative through her absence (like Florence by the end of the novel). The pretences, secrets and lies are symbolised within this character, an exaggeration (or matured glimpse) of Florence - despite the clear and nagging contrast between the two families. This is a fresh and almost comical Freudian reference (that men look for their mother when picking a wife). Edward's mother is a surprising addition by McEwan, she is a crisp and distinct breeze in an otherwise very stereotyped, intertwined and almost fragile narrative.
At worst, sex is used by authors as a gimmicky sales pitch. On Chesil Beach, however, uses it as realistically as possible - it is crude, loving, vital and minor in turns. Both in symbolic and representative ways, McEwan has achieved a narrative built around (but not exclusive to) sex: as an indicator of real humanity.
An intricately crafted tale of tension and morality; Ian McEwan's new work On Chesil Beach is a beautiful and eloquent achievement. This is a book to devour, re-read and ponder - densely packed with insight and accessible reflections of relationships and intimacy.
The novella follows the relationship between Edward and Florence. We first encounter the couple on their wedding night - the pivotal point of their relationship. The tension of this scene is born of the early 1960's, of each individual finding their place in both this changing society and their relationship. In their honeymoon suite, Edward and Florence negotiate consummating their marriage - a long awaited moment for Edward whilst a nightmarish scenario for his new bride.
The couple are deeply in love, yet the expectations of their first sexual encounter show the intricate interplay between sex and love, and the implications for the couple. As their relationship (and the readers' understanding of the pair) delves beyond their newly-wed ideal we discover their characters afresh and further understand the facades in action. What isn't said is far more important here than what is. These pretences and conformities, whilst most often of the little white lie variety, open up a gulf between the characters and become a separate entity in the relationship. McEwan unfolds each protagonist delicately, encouraging revisits to On Chesil Beach to unveil further motivations and meanings.
Flitting between crisp reporting and woozy nostalgia, McEwan creates empathy for both protagonists in his enticing use of tone and pace. The sense of tension is ruthless, ebbing in and out to its crescendo. The structure and pace of On Chesil Beach is fluid and musical, its echo found in Florence, an aspiring musician. As she becomes more self-assured, the pace quickens and even in her eventual absence she dominates the tone. Edward, in contrast, is an historian, thinking factually, and this is clear through his responsive, analytical narrative. The (almost fated) deep attraction between Edward and Florence is explored through his studies. The recurring activities and consequences of humanity and the inevitability of change are both universally and personally understood; rights of passage are socially and historically enforced. As Florence reflects, stood on the shore, the wedding night is 'a minor theme in a larger pattern', both for the characters and as a critique of human relationships in general. Perhaps stereotypical to gender, these aspects of each protagonist complement each other and succinctly develop each character. On Chesil Beach may not be so successful were it more lengthy. It is McEwan's commanding insight and the resulting intensity which give the novella its power.
Twin standards plague this relationship. Florence has been brought up straddling tradition and revolution (i.e. her father's driving lessons encouraging her independence) yet she is trapped by her refined loneliness. The English stiff upper lip and the expectations and implications of marriage cage the couple; Florence craves the freedom to explore their own interpretation of marriage. Both characters are deeply lonely, but they are lonely together. Unable to talk about her emotions even with Edward, her most intimate confidante, Florence's character explores the contrasts between sex, love and intimacy both as a reflection on past values and a critique of modern morality. As a reflection of Florence's blossoming individuality, Edward's mother thwarts explanation and preconceptions; dominating the narrative through her absence (like Florence by the end of the novel). The pretences, secrets and lies are symbolised within this character, an exaggeration (or matured glimpse) of Florence - despite the clear and nagging contrast between the two families. This is a fresh and almost comical Freudian reference (that men look for their mother when picking a wife). Edward's mother is a surprising addition by McEwan, she is a crisp and distinct breeze in an otherwise very stereotyped, intertwined and almost fragile narrative.
At worst, sex is used by authors as a gimmicky sales pitch. On Chesil Beach, however, uses it as realistically as possible - it is crude, loving, vital and minor in turns. Both in symbolic and representative ways, McEwan has achieved a narrative built around (but not exclusive to) sex: as an indicator of real humanity.
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