On Chesil Beach--SPOILERS

Okay, so I've had several thoughts running around in my head regarding the book but I think I'll initially focus on two of them. Let me get out of the way some initial broad comments--I think Ian McKewan is a really good writer. Yes, I'm fairly certain that I am the first to make this discovery--it's my incredible discernment that has made me such a fixture on the nation's literary circuit. When I say though that he is a good writer I mean that he can really punch out a sentence, separate from any specific plot or character development or anything along those lines. For instance, I thought "Amsterdarm" was rubbish as a book, but any given paragraph within it is quite readable. I had noted in reading both "Amsterdam" and "Atonement" that they were "well-written" but I don't think I noticed it as starkly until "On Chesil Beach". Part of it was that reading the initial book description did not exactly excite my interest, but starting the book, I couldn't put it down...initially not so much because I was swept up in the story but more because the writing was just so fluid--there was hardly a chance to pause.

Mostly this has been brought into relief for me by starting another fiction novel immediately after On Chesil Beach. I usually take a few days before starting another book and frequently alternate fiction with non-fiction so I don't give myself the chance to make such a direct comparison. But this time I started "Mr. Pip" right away and without going into too much of my Mr. Pip analysis, let's just say the comparison wasn't favorable.

Okay, the first of my two topics about On Chesil Beach is the ending (so stop reading now if you haven't read the ending). Three of the four McKewan I've read end tragically--in this case really and truly tragic with our hero only coming to realize late in life (well past any hope of reconciliation) that he probably screwed up the best thing that ever happened to him. While the ending of "Atonement" was not tragic in that sense, it was pretty depressing. And while the ending of Amsterdarm I think was supposed to be some form of black comedy, I would say that it was one of the most nihilistic pieces of fiction I've had the misfortune of reading. "Saturday" doesn't end tragically I guess, but how does it end. I guess that's a whole other discussion--it was a little too pat for my taste. My point here is that, granted, based on an incredibly limited reading, McKewan is sort of flirting with Penelope Fitzgerald territory. Penelope Fitzgerald is the (Booker-award winning) author of novels such as "The Blue Flower" and "The Bookshop" and one about a lighthouse that I haven't read (but that she won the Booker for). All her books are published in paperback in the U.S. at least with a very distinctive style so they are sort of noticeable when you are browsing. Anyway, I was once gushing to my friend Caitlin about how great "The Blue Flower" was and she responded with a "Meh". And I said "how can you say that?" and she said "Because they are all formulaic--person falls in love, dreams dream, plans big, reaches high, meets conflict, strives harder, in the end fails, but in a noble way...you've read one, you've read them all."

Even with my limited reading, I was fairly certain approaching the final pages that things would not end well for our would-be lovers. I think the element that is missing from the McKewan sub-ouevre that I've read is any sense of grace...I guess I mean that in a religious sense but I don't think it needs to be any particular religion. Maybe I'm too sentimental? But is a happy ending not worth good fiction? I think some might argue that the end of Atonement and the end of Saturday both were happy in their way--for Atonement, the redemptive grace of narrative and Saturday...well, I'm still lost on that ending a bit. But to me, at least in the case of Atonement and mabye for Saturday, that form of grace is grace that makes the tough parts of life bearable, the ability to survive guilt. But it my mind grace is more a force that changes a life...the tragedy of these books is that lives don't change and the only comfort is that they go on living. The people in his books make the wrong decisions at crucial moments with awful consequences. That's his formula and it's an important tool of any fiction writer because it is true to life. I know this is a criticism, but each book on its own is in many ways a great achievement. Looking at them together I feel like something is missing.

My second point is a lot shorter. One of the fantastic things about the book (I thought) was his ability to convince you of the legitimacy of Florence's fears. In the sections where we hear her thoughts I found my mind wandering to the conclusion that sex is a horror. Her list of "no" words was both hilarious and too true. I think her development as a character is one of the best things I've read in any of his books. That being said, I thought it was a little cheap then to throw in a shadowy abuse backstory. Maybe this comes off as callous, but it seems like every person in fiction or on tv or in movies that is not a total libertine must have had some sexual damage done to them in an abusive past. To me, the plausibility of her as a character did not require a deviation from the norm, such as abuse, rather, she was so plausible because all of her fears and concerns and logic fit right in the middle of normal human experience. To me it seemed an easy out and a little too Lifetime.

That's all for now. I hope I"ll have more soon....