written by for Venus Rising Magazine
Scorpio 07 Issue
This book rests in your hand with a comfort and ease that makes it one that cannot be put down until finished. Though it is literally small in shape, McEwan’s literary talent is large in capacity. His plot is tight, and his technique is so riveting that it is difficult to review this title without giving away the juicy parts. Really, you will read the book faster than I can write this review.
On Chesil Beach By Ian McEwan. 203 pp. Doubleday c. 2007. $22.
Set in England during an era when sex was a taboo topic of discussion, the bulk of the novel consists of one single sex scene. The disastrous outcome of a wedding night explores the impossibility of sustaining love while evoking profound sympathy for the characters. McEwan writes with an authority that makes you feel as if you are a fly on the wall, observing every move and feeling all the tension front row and center.
It pained him [Edward] tremendously that their wedding night was not simple, when their love was so obvious.
Edward and Florence are likable, and their difficulties are understandable. Their love for each other is palpable; because of this the complexity of their childhood experiences becomes evident to the reader but not to them.
Their courtship had been pavane, a stately unfolding, bound by protocols never agreed or voiced but generally observed. Nothing was ever discussed – nor did they feel the lack of intimate talk. These were matters beyond words, beyond definition. The language and practice of therapy, the currency of feelings diligently shared, mutually analyzed, were not yet in general circulation. While one heard of wealthier people going in for psychoanalysis, it was not yet customary to regard oneself in everyday terms as an enigma, an exercise in narrative history, or as a problem waiting to be solved.
If only Florence and Edward could communicate. McEwan’s characters deny themselves the intimacy they desperately desire because they loathe the idea of embarrassment. The possibilities of their love are governed by their fears of offending each other. McEwan describes Florence’s playing the violin as
sinuous and exact, and she was known for the richness of her tone.
Ian McEwan, Photo Eamon McCabeIn essence McEwan is also describing his own writing. The undulations in tone and the curves in plot make this a delicious story, a beautiful orchestrated symphony. In the end the reader is somewhat pleased to be left with a faith in love and patience.
Upon conclusion of this novel McEwan wrote a follow-up stating that:
The characters in this novel are inventions and bear no resemblance to people living are dead.
While this statement should be received as truth, it is interesting to note that McEwan’s themes, like so many good authors, are driven by his own life lessons. During an interview with Liliane Louvel, Gilles Menegaldo and Anne-Laure Fortin at the University de Poitiers in 1994, which is thirteen years prior to the publication of On Chesil Beach, McEwan shared an anecdote about his relationship with his father as compared to his relationship with his son. McEwan explained that:
He [his father] was a loving man who did not have the means to express his love. I remember once when he came to stay in my house and my seven-year-old son climbed on my lap while we were talking and put his arms around my neck. I hardly noticed; one of the joys of having children is that you simply inhabit this terrain of love. We went on with the conversation. And then my father pointed at little Gregory and said, ‘That’s amazing, that would never have happened between us. You were too frightened of me.’ And I nodded, rather sadly.
The themes reflected here are aptly applied to the lives of Florence Ponting and Edward Mayhew. The description of Florence and Edward’s life after that wedding night felt hurried, but I respect the fervency with which McEwan ended their story. It is sad to live in a constant state of being too frightened to not only feel but also express such love. McEwan knows this, so he does not ask us to endure the anguish any longer than necessary. He simply makes his point, which is why his literary prowess will resonate with readers time and time again. 
© 2008 Venus Rising Magazine