•2:36 PM
Guess what? I am actually still reading and I have finished another book. Miracles do happen ...
Have you ever known someone who just goes on and on? I am referring to someone who feels it necessary to describe every last detail ... the colour of the buttons on their new dress, every single vegetable in their pasta salad, all the mundane things s/he did today, every piece of evidence to substantiate their claim. Rambling on and on, without divulging any real information, perhaps even blogging (about nothing in particular) for the entire month of April for no other reason than just to say she did it ... Do you know someone like this? For some of you, my name may come to mind ... for a variety of different reasons.
I just finished Atonement by Ian McEwan. The story itself is fabulous and unique; however, at times McEwan just goes on and on, sometimes taking four or five pages to generate only one small piece of information. For example, I have for you the following ...
"Only when a story was finished, all fates resolved and the whole matter sealed off at both ends so it resembled, at least in this one respect, every other finished story in the world, could she feel immune, and ready to punch holes in the margins, bind the chapters with pieces of string, paint or draw the cover and take the finished work to show to her mother, or her father, when he was home."
Honestly, is there no easier way to express this same sentiment? I'm thinking of something a little more straight forward, like ... She could only present her story once it was completed in full, and for her that entailed resolving all fates. When it was to her liking, she would bind it, design a front cover and bestow it to whichever parent she happened upon first. Now, isn't that a little easier to follow?
Imagine having the audacity to re-write a passage from an award winning novel? I am sure to get myself into some big trouble with this kind of attitude.
I can understand why this book is acclaimed and why it was made into a movie. The story is unique and fabulous, as I said before. The first part of the book is written in chapters. Fourteen to be exact. The second, third and fourth parts are written without chapters. Unique way to write a story.
I want to write about some of the details of the book; so, if you have any desire to read this novel, stop reading this now. And, come back when you have finished the book.
The story begins with Briony (can I tell you how much I dislike that name?), a thirteen-year-old girl who has a flare for writing and a magnificent imagination. The year is 1935. Briony is the third of three children, and there is a ten-year gap between she and her closest sibling, Cecilia. Briony bares witness to a tender moment between her sister and Robbie, the son of a servant, and although mature in many ways, Briony misunderstands what transpires. She believes her sister has been hurt in some way, when in reality, Cecilia is in love. On the very same day, her cousin, Lola is raped outside (in the yard) at night-time. Briony witnesses just the end of the incident - although it is dark and she never sees the assailant's face. She is young and naive, with an active imagination, and jumps to conclusions she should not. Robbie is wrongly convicted of the rape.
As she grows and matures, Briony comes to realize her mistake. But really, what can she do to vindicate a man who has been sent to jail for the crime of rape? If she comes forward and admits that she made a mistake, who would believe her now? Several years have come and gone. So, she must live with what she has done.
We come to learn that the first fourteen chapters are actually Briony's book. A book she wrote detailing the events of the day in which the rape took place, the same day that her sister, Cecilia, discovered the love she had been harbouring for Robbie. But the book cannot be published until after Lola and the actual rapist have have died. "You may only libel yourself and the dead," as Briony explains to us. And as a note of interest, Lola went on to marry her rapist. So, as you can see, the story itself is really good.
The fourth section of the novel is titled, London 1999. Briony is off to celebrate her seventy-seventh birthday with fifty of her family members and friends. She inwardly reminisces of the things she has never been able to forget and her plans to put everything right. Although she realizes she will never live to see justice acknowledged.
But then she decides to complicate things ...
"... how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms."
So, we, the reader, are left to wonder which parts are actually based on fact, and which have been left to her imagination. I must admit that I absolutely love endings like this. I know there are many of you shaking your heads, wondering what is wrong with me. But I love a story that ends making you think ... and trying to figure out if you actually know what you think you know. I think I know ... but you'll have to read the whole thing for yourself and make your own decision ... if you dare.
I couldn't help but think of Daisy Goodwill Flett from The Stone Diaries. You may recall that she wrote her autobiography in the third person at times. Is that why? Because those are the sections that she chose to use writers' discretion? So, she made those parts up? What? Now I might have to reconsider the whole story ... Ugh.
You may just want to see the movie in the case of Atonement ... I don't think I have EVER said that before. See? I am learning things ... sometimes the movie might be better than the book. That way, if you don't like it, you've wasted only a couple of hours instead of a few days.
Have you ever known someone who just goes on and on? I am referring to someone who feels it necessary to describe every last detail ... the colour of the buttons on their new dress, every single vegetable in their pasta salad, all the mundane things s/he did today, every piece of evidence to substantiate their claim. Rambling on and on, without divulging any real information, perhaps even blogging (about nothing in particular) for the entire month of April for no other reason than just to say she did it ... Do you know someone like this? For some of you, my name may come to mind ... for a variety of different reasons.
I just finished Atonement by Ian McEwan. The story itself is fabulous and unique; however, at times McEwan just goes on and on, sometimes taking four or five pages to generate only one small piece of information. For example, I have for you the following ...
"Only when a story was finished, all fates resolved and the whole matter sealed off at both ends so it resembled, at least in this one respect, every other finished story in the world, could she feel immune, and ready to punch holes in the margins, bind the chapters with pieces of string, paint or draw the cover and take the finished work to show to her mother, or her father, when he was home."
Honestly, is there no easier way to express this same sentiment? I'm thinking of something a little more straight forward, like ... She could only present her story once it was completed in full, and for her that entailed resolving all fates. When it was to her liking, she would bind it, design a front cover and bestow it to whichever parent she happened upon first. Now, isn't that a little easier to follow?
Imagine having the audacity to re-write a passage from an award winning novel? I am sure to get myself into some big trouble with this kind of attitude.
I can understand why this book is acclaimed and why it was made into a movie. The story is unique and fabulous, as I said before. The first part of the book is written in chapters. Fourteen to be exact. The second, third and fourth parts are written without chapters. Unique way to write a story.
I want to write about some of the details of the book; so, if you have any desire to read this novel, stop reading this now. And, come back when you have finished the book.
The story begins with Briony (can I tell you how much I dislike that name?), a thirteen-year-old girl who has a flare for writing and a magnificent imagination. The year is 1935. Briony is the third of three children, and there is a ten-year gap between she and her closest sibling, Cecilia. Briony bares witness to a tender moment between her sister and Robbie, the son of a servant, and although mature in many ways, Briony misunderstands what transpires. She believes her sister has been hurt in some way, when in reality, Cecilia is in love. On the very same day, her cousin, Lola is raped outside (in the yard) at night-time. Briony witnesses just the end of the incident - although it is dark and she never sees the assailant's face. She is young and naive, with an active imagination, and jumps to conclusions she should not. Robbie is wrongly convicted of the rape.
As she grows and matures, Briony comes to realize her mistake. But really, what can she do to vindicate a man who has been sent to jail for the crime of rape? If she comes forward and admits that she made a mistake, who would believe her now? Several years have come and gone. So, she must live with what she has done.
We come to learn that the first fourteen chapters are actually Briony's book. A book she wrote detailing the events of the day in which the rape took place, the same day that her sister, Cecilia, discovered the love she had been harbouring for Robbie. But the book cannot be published until after Lola and the actual rapist have have died. "You may only libel yourself and the dead," as Briony explains to us. And as a note of interest, Lola went on to marry her rapist. So, as you can see, the story itself is really good.
The fourth section of the novel is titled, London 1999. Briony is off to celebrate her seventy-seventh birthday with fifty of her family members and friends. She inwardly reminisces of the things she has never been able to forget and her plans to put everything right. Although she realizes she will never live to see justice acknowledged.
But then she decides to complicate things ...
"... how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms."
So, we, the reader, are left to wonder which parts are actually based on fact, and which have been left to her imagination. I must admit that I absolutely love endings like this. I know there are many of you shaking your heads, wondering what is wrong with me. But I love a story that ends making you think ... and trying to figure out if you actually know what you think you know. I think I know ... but you'll have to read the whole thing for yourself and make your own decision ... if you dare.
I couldn't help but think of Daisy Goodwill Flett from The Stone Diaries. You may recall that she wrote her autobiography in the third person at times. Is that why? Because those are the sections that she chose to use writers' discretion? So, she made those parts up? What? Now I might have to reconsider the whole story ... Ugh.
You may just want to see the movie in the case of Atonement ... I don't think I have EVER said that before. See? I am learning things ... sometimes the movie might be better than the book. That way, if you don't like it, you've wasted only a couple of hours instead of a few days.
