Ian McEwan sounds like a nice man
Stop reading if you’ve heard this before. In 1999 I sent myself to Melbourne to watch the Australian Open and discovered that the city was teeming with independent bookstores. New books, used books, out-of-print books, old periodicals. Shops were closed on Sundays—shopkeepers allowed to have lives, what a strange concept—but there was this cafe that had a library.
While having a latte, I picked up Enduring Love by Ian McEwan. Never read him before. Tranquil beginning. A man and a woman are having a picnic in an open field. There’s champagne. He’s going to propose to her. Then there’s a shout and suddenly the man is running. Four other men join him from other parts of the field. They’re running towards a big hot air balloon. In its basket is a boy, wailing. A man is clinging to the basket by a rope. A great gust of wind picks up the balloon. The men grab the lines to keep balloon and boy from floating away. The wind lifts them all up.
Two lattes later, I was an Ian McEwan fan. I had to go back to the hotel and pack, so I tried to buy the book but it wasn’t for sale. It wasn’t till I landed in Singapore airport the next day that I was able to buy some Ian McEwan books. (Enduring Love was the most thrilling part of the trip. The top seeds fell in the first week of the Open and the big story was Enqvist making it to the final. Kafelnikov won. Swedes dressed as Vikings roamed the bars and broke bottles on their heads. I saw Seles beat Graf easily. Hingis the winner said Mauresmo “played like a man”.)
Personally I classify McEwan’s books into Nasty and Nice. Nasty—terrible things happen, no one is saved, nearly everyone’s a shit. Nice—terrible things happen, but if people aren’t saved exactly, there’s an attempt at redemption and sympathy for the characters.
Nasty: First Love, Last Rites, In Between The Sheets, Cement Garden, The Comfort of Strangers, Amsterdam, Black Dogs, The Innocent
Nice: Enduring Love, Saturday, Atonement, On Chesil Beach, The Child In Time
Nasty or nice, all his books are leavened with dread.
There’s a movie version of Enduring Love directed by Roger Michell and starring Daniel Craig, Samantha Morton, Rhys Ifans. Craig gets the character but is too sculpted to be a teacher. The balloon sequence is done well; the stalking of Craig by Ifans is occasionally risible. Ifans might’ve been more menacing if I hadn’t just seen him as the daffy roommate in Notting Hill, also by Michell.
Daniel Zalewski profiles Ian McEwan in the New Yorker. For someone who specializes in dread and unease, he sounds like a nice man. Thanks to Budj for the link.