This Review Is Longer Than the Book

On Saturday while I was waiting for the miracle Goldwell chemicals to work their magic on my ever-grayer hair, I read Ian McEwan's very short (200 small, widely spaced pages) novel, On Chesil Beach (well, most of it, anyhow—I finished the rest that evening). I had added it to my Amazon Wish List when it first came out, having read the (only slightly) abridged excerpt in The New Yorker in December 2006. Sandy was kind enough to give me the book for a recent BAFAB week.

Both the short story and the novel versions begin with a scene in the honeymoon suite at a beachside inn, June 1962:

They were young, educated, and both virgins on this, their wedding night, and they lived in a time when a conversation about sexual difficulties was plainly impossible.

Here's what Edward's got on his mind as they eat their dinner:

For more than a year, Edward had been mesmerized by the prospect that on the evening of a given date in June the most sensitive portion of himself would reside, however briefly, within a naturally formed cavity inside this cheerful, pretty, formidably intelligent woman. How this was to be achieved without absurdity, or disappointment, troubled him.

Unfortunately, here's Florence's take on the situation:

Where he merely suffered conventional first-night nerves, she experienced a visceral dread, a helpless disgust as palpable as seasickness. For much of the time, through all the months of merry wedding preparation, she had managed to ignore this stain on her happiness, but whenever her thoughts turned toward a close embrace—she preferred no other term—her stomach tightened dryly, and she felt nausea at the back of her throat.

So, as they pick at their food (McEwan notes, "This was not a good moment in the history of English cuisine..."), they are both more than a little preoccupied. McEwan's scene-setting and characterization are just right—we really get a feel for our poor young couple and the uncomfortable time and place they find themselves in.

The short story ends just as the couple approaches the bed, and I liked that leaving-off point. The novel, however, goes farther—and I think mars the whole thing. I won't give anything away, but what struck me as a terribly out-of-character argument ensues between our young newlyweds. I was taken completely aback. The book ends with a description of Edward looking back on this night from later in life, and I would have liked to hear Florence's side of it too.

I would have to say that this is one of those rare instances in which I preferred the abridgment to the full-lenth story. Did anyone else read either the book or the story? If both, which order did you read them in? What did you think?

Comments

[amy]

Karen,

I read both, and I did end up liking the book more than the short story. Like you, I was sort of stunned when I saw how slim the book was, and like you had read such praise about it in many mediums, so I was expecting...more.
After reading the book and thinking about it, I think their argument was understandable and found the consequences rather harsh, but believable. I think the entire novel did a great job of reflecting that period of time, where England was poised on the brink of changing times but not quite yet there, and how the repression of that time just before could lead to so many misunderstandings and unspoken expectations. Had they met just 5 years later, I think their entire courtship and marriage would have been far different. If only they had societal and generational permission to TALK to one another! But those kind of conversations couldn't and wouldn't take place, not then.

The writing is incredible, very descriptive and evocative of place and person and emotion. I can picture them and their room, the meal (bad as it was) and the beach.

I felt sad for them and grateful to live in a time when conversations about such things are acceptable.

I'm reading Olive Kittridge now, another book that has been heavily reviewed and praised, and I'm truly enjoying it.

[Lisa]

Started this book and just couldn't get into it---didn't grab me and after a while, I just didn't care enough to finish.....

[Melanie]

I didn't read the short story, even though I'm a New Yorker subscriber. I listened to the novella as an audiobook, read by the author, and found it to be very well done. I echo Amy above in her review--I found it very evocative of that time and place, and oh so poignant.

[raych]

I thought this book was the sweetest, saddest thing I've read in ages. I mean, they could have been so happy, but then they couldn't...and she almost, but then she didn't...and he...and the argument at the end was spot-on for me. All that taking the low road because you assume the other person'll take the high road, or that you'll have a second chance, and before long it's gone too far for reconciliation and it's all over, when a slightly different reaction here or there could have changed the whole course of events! *sob* alas.

[Di]

It's on my shelf. I think I started it and it didn't grab me. Is it a quick enough read that I should read it really quick so that I can give you my feedback?