It's hardly surprising that Atonement found its way into my hands. Reading Renee Knight's Disclaimer had reminded me so much of Ian McEwan’s storytelling that I couldn’t resist diving back. What better moment to revisit the first McEwan novel I read?
I originally picked up Atonement in 2006, drawn by building publicity around its upcoming film adaptation. With Keira Knightley and James McAvoy it was a cinema premiere I couldn't miss. Unfortunately the writing style had been something that proved to be a challenge at the time. Honestly I don't even remember whatever I have finished it or not back then.
Ian McEwan's writing is deeply divisive. People tend to either love his work or find it unbearably intense, often due to his attention to detail, lengthy descriptions, and the slow development of his characters' psychological profiles. I suppose this was what I struggled with back in 2006, when I had only just begun tackling more challenging books written in English. I still remember the frustration of fighting through paragraph after paragraph, unable to grasp the beauty of it (this actually might deserve a blog post of its own).
Fast forward to the present, and I find myself captivated by Atonement, just as I have been with McEwan’s other books. The language is no longer an obstacle; quite the opposite, in fact. And perhaps being eighteen years older has given me a patience I lacked back then.
Atonement is, at its core, is tragedy and a love story - one hampered by a false accusation made by thirteen-year-old Briony, whose wild and vivid imagination, together with immature understanding of the things she witnessed, sets off a chain of events that changes others’ lives. Set against the looming backdrop of the Second World War, the story unfolds with a sense of inevitable tragedy, and you can’t help but hope for a different ending. This is exactly what older Briony, in her search for redemption, tries to achieve by writing a story that gives her sister and her lover a second chance - a chance they were never given in real life.
This book is already modern classic. Deeply touching and haunting exploration of love, guilt, and the lasting impact of a single misguided act. Somehow I can't believe it took me eighteen years to find and appreciate this in all its glory.
Rating: ★★★★★ [?]