Book Review: Atonement by Ian McEwan

Yet again, I watched the movie version before I read—or even knew about—Ian McEwan’s novel. It doesn’t happen to me often, but it’s such a shame when it does. Especially in this case, where it’s such a conscious effort to remove the film’s influence and fully examine McEwan’s genius. Atonement is such a compelling story, and only an author as adept as McEwan could have done it justice. 

McEwan essentially took one of my least favorite of my beloved Jane Austen’s novels—the satirical Northanger Abbey—and turned it into an intense, sensational historical fiction. It follows Briony, a young girl too caught up in her own imagination, who witnesses an interaction that she doesn’t quite understand. Consequently, she makes a grave error that will deeply impact the lives of those around her. 

I absolutely love how McEwan captures the intricate thought processes of all his characters; the little moments where the character’s mind wanders before coming to its point. He writes in a rotating third-person close perspective, and mainly focuses on the perspectives of Briony, her older sister Cecilia, and gardener and Cecilia’s fellow student Robbie (with a dash of mother Emily). McEwan doesn’t switch tones between perspectives, but since it isn’t first person, it works. He masterfully captures each character’s essence. But he does exceptionally well with characterizing Briony. 

I never quite understood Briony from the film adaptation. Her motivations and interpretations seemed a little too outlandish. And while I found Catherine Morland from Northanger Abbey a little cringey, I pretty much hated Briony. But McEwan captures Briony’s thirst for a novel-worthy life so well. He writes her with empathy, and delves into her mind so thoroughly that I understood why Briony did what she did. She interpreted violence in Robbie’s actions, and she considered it her ticket to storybook maturity to do something about it. 

I also love the twinge of unreliable narration. I’ve always thought the plot twist at the end was an incredibly heartbreaking, beautifully genius bit of storytelling. And I admire how McEwan decided to reveal his plot twist. He simultaneously questions the reliability of storytelling and the reliability of perception. 

The only criticism is that the pacing was a little slow at times, particularly during Robbie’s war scenes, and during some of Briony’s nursing scenes. The first half and the ending were definitely the highlights for me. I’m not sure if this graduates into my favorites of all time, but it’s close. It renews my appreciation for storytelling and the intricate process of imagining a plot. 4.5/5