The Sense of an Ending

Nov 06, 2011 TD rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction

**Spoilers**

I would probably have passed this book by were it not for Michael Wood's review, titled 'Stupidly English', in the LRB Vol. 33, number 18. I tend to imagine your Austers, Rushdies, Franzens and Barneses of the publishing world aren't short of readers and don't need me added to those legions. However, if 'The Sense of an Ending' is anything to go by, the greater loss is certainly mine, and I'm grateful Wood's review drew me to Barnes's Booker winner.

On the face of things, 'The Sense o...more

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Mar 15, 2013 Nataliya rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: Kris, Jim, Ian Graye

Recommended to Nataliya by: Iffletoe

Shelves: 2013-reads, recommended-by-my-colleagues

Julian Barnes' The Sense of an Ending has a lot packed in the short 150 or so pages.

Memory and history, responsibility and blame, deceit, misunderstandings, aging, guilt, remorse - and, of course, a safely passive coasting on the smooth sailing surface of life, occasionally interrupted by the tidal waves of unexpected upheavals and disturbances, just like Severn Bore, seen once by Tony Webster and Veronica.

"We live with such easy assumptions, don’t we? For instance, that memory equals events p

...more
Julian Barnes' The Sense of an Ending has a lot packed in the short 150 or so pages.

Memory and history, responsibility and blame, deceit, misunderstandings, aging, guilt, remorse - and, of course, a safely passive coasting on the smooth sailing surface of life, occasionally interrupted by the tidal waves of unexpected upheavals and disturbances, just like Severn Bore, seen once by Tony Webster and Veronica.

"We live with such easy assumptions, don’t we? For instance, that memory equals events plus time. But it’s all much odder than this. Who was it said that memory is what we thought we’d forgotten? And it ought to be obvious to us that time doesn’t act as a fixative, rather as a solvent. But it’s not convenient — it’s not useful — to believe this; it doesn’t help us get on with our lives; so we ignore it."

It is the story of fickleness and subjectivity of memory that creates the unreliable histories we tell ourselves; the dissonance between what happened and what stories we choose to tell ourselves - because such unconscious lies are often what we just happen to need to feel alright about ourselves.

And so we construct our own memories and write our life stories the way it suits us.

"How often do we tell our own life story? How often do we adjust, embellish, make sly cuts? And the longer life goes on, the fewer are those around to challenge our account, to remind us that our life is not our life, merely the story we have told about our life. Told to others, but — mainly — to ourselves."

It's the story that touches on allotting responsibility and blame - be it for the Great War or a breakup or a divorce or a suicide - and learn that the answers may not always be there. We can come up with a catchy and cheeky answers ('History is the lies of the winners', pretentiously and predictably states teenage Tony Webster with all the world-weariness of a sixteen-year-old) - but ultimately, the answers are never clear-cut, and everything is in the grey zone, and the realization is that of a sixty-year-old Tony:

"History isn’t the lies of the victors, as I once glibly assured Old Joe Hunt; I know that now. It’s more the memories of the survivors, most of whom are neither victorious nor defeated."

It's a melancholic reflection of the reality of aging and the little differences between 'settling for it' and 'accepting reality'. And, what's pathetically and sadly true, we fail to really grow and change at the end of our life stories - after all, Life is not really Literature. Yeah, it's not a book to read when you're feeling a bit down on yourself. Because at the end "what you end up remembering isn’t always the same as what you have witnessed."

"That’s one of the central problems of history, isn’t it, sir? The question of subjective versus objective interpretation, the fact that we need to know the history of the historian in order to understand the version that is being put in front of us."

With this introduction, we take a dive into the mind of Tony Webster - a self-centered average guy who, like the rest of us, uses the subjectivity of memory to be the hero in his story, to be who he needs himself to be, to unconsciously tinker with the events until they seem just right. 'Yes, I remember exactly what happened!' is not that reliable, and Tony comes to learn that. Whether he actually takes something important from this experience - well, that's debatable

"It strikes me that this may be one of the differences between youth and age: when we are young, we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others."

We meet Tony at sixteen, through the recollection of his almost five decades older self. The older Tony constantly interrupts his own narration to remind us of the subjectivity of his memory, setting himself up as the ultimate unreliable narrator. This story resembles a coming-of-age book at the beginning (with all those pseudo- and not-so-pseudo-intellectual teenagers in the British prep school in the 1960s waxing on and on about philosophical matters with the smugness inherent to the adolescence) - but it turns out to be anything but.

"Discovering, for example, that as the witnesses to your life diminish, there is less corroboration, and therefore less certainty, as to what you are or have been. Even if you have assiduously kept records— in words, sound, pictures— you may find that you have attended to the wrong kind of record-keeping."

Tony Webster is pathetic, self-centered and self-righteous. His life did not turn out the way he thought it'd be ("This was another of our fears: that Life wouldn’t turn out to be like Literature.")- and he has been coasting through it, just an average guy leading an average life, far from the inspirations he may have had when back in his teens he was friends with a bright young philosopher (yes, a bit full of himself - but who isn't at that age?) Adrian Finn, who produces such pompous little gems as this one:

"History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation."

And then, a few years later, Tony's university girlfriend Veronica Ford(the one he views through the prism of his memories as a supreme bitch) dumped him and dated Adrian, and then Adrian committed suicide, and then there were four unexciting mediocre decades, and now the above ex-girlfriend's mother left Adrian's diary to Tony - but the ex-girlfriend is not willing to part with what Tony comes to view as his rightful legacy. And along the path to reclaim that diary Tony embarks on a quest to turn remorse into guilt and guilt into forgiveness - in the most self-centered way possible. Along the way he also toys with shouldering responsibility for what happened in the lives of Veronica and Adrian - but, as I see it, this over-estimation of his own importance is yet another one of his memory delusions and instead he may be on the sidelines of this story, regardless of what his unreliable memory tells him his life story should be.

"Perhaps I just feel safer with the history that’s been more or less agreed upon. Or perhaps it’s that same paradox again: the history that happens underneath our noses ought to be the clearest, and yet it’s the most deliquescent. We live in time, it bounds us and defines us, and time is supposed to measure history, isn’t it? But if we can’t understand time, can’t grasp its mysteries of pace and progress, what chance do we have with history— even our own small, personal, largely undocumented piece of it?"

But maybe, just maybe, the aging Tony Webster will learn something from the trip to the past he takes on his quest to recover Adrian's journal. But ultimately it's not about Tony at all; Tony is just a slate on which to project the final thoughts, the final lines of this novel that harbor a bit of hope for the majority of us, floaters on the safe waters of life, who may or may not meet their Severn Bore.

"There is accumulation. There is responsibility. And beyond these, there is unrest. There is great unrest."

This story is written with enough irony and melancholy to sustain a book of a much larger size. It's insanely quotable, to the point where you begin to suspect that certain lines were thrown in by the author with expectations of their future quotability factor. The language is smart and exquisite, sometimes a bit sardonic, sometimes a bit pedantic, and sometimes painfully genuine. Love this book or hate it - but you cannot deny that the writing is quite excellent.

.......

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And to close off, I want to go back to the image of the Severn Bore, the natural phenomenon that unsettled Tony back in his youth and still may be the disturbance that we all need from time to time. Great unrest, so to speak.

"I don't think I can properly convey the effect that moment had on me. It wasn't like a tornado or an earthquake (not that I'd witnessed either) – nature being violent and destructive, putting us in our place. It was more unsettling because it looked and felt quietly wrong, as if some small lever of the universe had been pressed, and here, just for these minutes, nature was reversed, and time with it."

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May 29, 2012 Jason rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: for-kindle, 2012, reviewed

Tony Webster is a shallow douchebag.

First of all, let’s get something straight. I don’t believe people should be judged too harshly for behavior they exhibited in adolescence. That’s not to say that people are not responsible for actions they committed in their youth; it just means that their actions as teenagers do not necessarily reflect the kind of people they will become as adults. So my problem with Tony Webster isn’t that he was an asshole in high school. In fact, I’d probably be a bit hyp...more Tony Webster is a shallow douchebag.

First of all, let’s get something straight. I don’t believe people should be judged too harshly for behavior they exhibited in adolescence. That’s not to say that people are not responsible for actions they committed in their youth; it just means that their actions as teenagers do not necessarily reflect the kind of people they will become as adults. So my problem with Tony Webster isn’t that he was an asshole in high school. In fact, I’d probably be a bit hypocritical to judge him in that context because I might have been a asshole myself at that age. Maybe. But I can assure you I am not an asshole now and if I’m to be judged on the kind of person I am, I’d like for that judgment to consider me only in my current adult state, please. No, the problem with Tony Webster has nothing to do with his high school self—it’s the fact that over the course of forty years, he has not changed one single bit.

As Tony divulges the circumstances surrounding a pivotal juncture in his youth, he would have you believe that his best friend was a disloyal SOB, his girlfriend a Cutthroat Bitch, and he perfectly justified in telling them both to fuck off. And perhaps he was. Again, that is not the problem I have with Tony Webster. Even that he holds on so tightly to warped memories as reasons for his past behavior (which are really justifications) is something I do not hold against him—we all do that to a certain extent. It’s called self-preservation. But where I start having issues with Tony is where he begins to dwell on these events and obsess over these people he hasn’t seen in decades in a way that is not normal or healthy. If his reasons were sincere, if he actually felt like he needed to atone for something, then I might understand. But that is not what he’s doing. No, he wants to ingratiate himself into these people’s lives, forty years later, just so they can be left with a positive impression of him! See, Tony might think he has you convinced he’s grown and matured into a considerate human person, but the only one he’s convinced is himself, because Tony is in fact the same self-serving bastard he was when he was fifteen. It does make you reconsider his life details in a new light, though: his failed marriage, the distant relationship he has with his daughter, his pathetic lack of friends. I mean it’s one thing to be an unreliable narrator, but here we have one who’s delusional, too.

History is not just the lies of the victors; it is also the self-delusions of the defeated.

The final straw for me was when he (view spoiler).

This book does present an interesting supposition, though—that past events are easier to understand from the historical perspective, the fact that one can see an event in its entirety, more objectively, and from various angles with the passage of time, which allows for a more accurate account of that event. In other words, it’s hard to maintain a clear perspective on something while in the thick of things. Although the narrator uses this to justify his own shallow behavior, I thought it was a pretty enlightening concept nonetheless.(less)

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Oct 10, 2011 Aldrin rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Recommended to Aldrin by: Man Booker Prize 2011 Shortlist

In the last sentence of the first paragraph of the new, Booker-shortlisted novella “The Sense of an Ending,” the narrator states that “what you end up remembering isn’t always the same as what you have witnessed.” Preceding it is a short list of what he remembers: “a shiny inner wrist,” “steam rising from a wet sink,” “gouts of sperm circling a plughole,” “a river rushing nonsensically upstream,” “another river,” and “bathwater long gone cold behind a locked door.” Following it is a hundred-plus...more In the last sentence of the first paragraph of the new, Booker-shortlisted novella “The Sense of an Ending,” the narrator states that “what you end up remembering isn’t always the same as what you have witnessed.” Preceding it is a short list of what he remembers: “a shiny inner wrist,” “steam rising from a wet sink,” “gouts of sperm circling a plughole,” “a river rushing nonsensically upstream,” “another river,” and “bathwater long gone cold behind a locked door.” Following it is a hundred-plus-page expansion of these remembrances, which, like any number of memories drawn from different points in time and space, are only vaguely, if at all, congruous. Coming from a self-confessed unreliable narrator, it serves as both an advance apology and a fair warning.

The narrator is one Tony Webster. Comfortably retired and amicably divorced in his sixties, he otherwise seems like the flying arrow in one of Zeno’s famous paradoxes of motion: no more capable of moving to where he is not than of moving to where he already is. In such a predicament his only possibility of motion is of the nature of an illusion, but it’s motion nevertheless, and he’s willing to take it. Troubled by the death of an erstwhile close friend and confronted by the imminence of his own, he looks back on his life and splices a great many recollections, resolving his instantaneous immobilities into a continuous movement. In a further development worthy of Borges, where he is not and where he is are one and the same, and that point—that sense—is the slight perception beautifully articulated in the book’s title. It’s what he’s struggling to clamber toward even as it’s already on the ground beneath his feet.

Tony, in his endeavor to make sense of things past and present, ascends into a Prufrockian analysis of time and mortality, making “The Sense of an Ending,” structurally, a memoir filled with confessions, digressions, and assertions. What more potent way of knowing, of remembering, than writing for and in spite of oneself?

He begins in his youth, specifically on the fateful school day he and his two bosom buddies befriend Adrian Finn. Adrian proves to be a very intellectual person, not unlike his newfound friends, but his mind is of a particularly astute slant. A debate on whether one person is culpable for starting the First World War is brought to an end when he answers, “That’s one of the central problems of history, isn’t it, sir? The question of subjective versus objective interpretation, the fact that we need to know the history of the historian in order to understand the version that is being put in front of us.” Then, upon learning that one of their schoolmates hanged himself after getting his girlfriend pregnant, Adrian invokes Camus, saying that “suicide is the only true philosophical question.” So, when Adrian himself does commit suicide years later, at which point he and Tony have long had a falling-out over another key character (a woman, natch), Tony is understandably quick to construe the act as a rejection of freedom, per Adrian’s preferred philosopher. But a letter appears in Tony’s mailbox suggesting otherwise, and Tony turns into something of a historian, one who must seek verifiable corroboration lest his only source be his fallible memory, sperm and all.

Hence the mea culpa cum caveat in the beginning of “The Sense of an Ending.” That statement is in agreement with the belief of the book’s real author, Julian Barnes, who is practically the same age as Tony Webster. (Whom else would Tony be a stand-in for, with his frequent dives into quotability short of ostentation?) Barnes writes in his previous book, “For the older writer, memory and the imagination begin to seem less and less distinguishable. This is not because the imagined world is really much closer to the writer’s world than he or she cares to admit (a common error among those who anatomize fiction) but for exactly the opposite reason: that memory itself comes to seem much closer to an act of imagination than ever before.” That book of nonfiction is Barnes’s meditation on memory and death, and its title, “Nothing to Be Frightened Of,” sounds like an optimistic description of the title of Tony’s own meditation on memory and death, itself borrowing from Frank Kermode’s “The Sense of an Ending: Studies in the Theory of Fiction.” “Nothing to Be Frightened Of” may also be a phrase of consolation for Tony as he goes about his quest for closure since it may well be that the historian himself is the culprit unknowing.

—

Originally posted here.(less)

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Dec 22, 2011 K.D. Oliveros rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Recommended to K.D. by: Angus Miranda

Shelves: booker, favorites, stylish

When Veronika said, ”You don’t get it. You never did.” I told myself: so, why don’t you tell him? Grrr. If only these people (Barnes’ characters) would sit down and discuss amongst themselves, then there will be no problem. Then Tony Webster will not have to spend all his life trying to grapple the memories he thought to be contained in his whole pathetic life. You see, Tony Webster is a double-sided man: he seems to be this gentle go-with-the-flow nice man who respects his girlfriend not to hav...more When Veronika said, ”You don’t get it. You never did.” I told myself: so, why don’t you tell him? Grrr. If only these people (Barnes’ characters) would sit down and discuss amongst themselves, then there will be no problem. Then Tony Webster will not have to spend all his life trying to grapple the memories he thought to be contained in his whole pathetic life. You see, Tony Webster is a double-sided man: he seems to be this gentle go-with-the-flow nice man who respects his girlfriend not to have real sex until they are ready. However, when his girlfriend dumps him for Tony Webster’s friend, he writes the bitterest letter that I’ve read coming from a dumped lover. The kind of letter that would put to shame even the vilest and the most manipulating characters of Pierre Choderlos de Laclos in his masterpiece Les Liaisons Dangereuses.

But that slow tease makes the reading very interesting and fun. The book is thin and the letters are big. Don’t be deceived though. The brevity does not reflect the jam-packed plot and the intricate thoughts that go on inside the mind of Tony Webster. You see, the story is a book narrated in the first person and Tony Webster is what they call in literature, film or theatre, as unreliable narrator. Barnes deceives the reader into believing that the character of Tony Webster in the first part of the story will be consistent. Until the revelation in the second part but I did not feel disgustingly deceived. I was amused, surprised but definitely bewildered by the brilliancy on how Barnes put everything intricately together. The prose is crisp, clear and concise. Definitely British but it is not stiff and rigid. This is my first Barnes and I used to think before that his prose would be a challenge to enjoy. Definitely not: it is very readable and easy to comprehend even for an Asian like me. The prose, plot, thethe characters, the sequence of the events, the thoughts that run in Tony Webster’s mind, big revelation in the end… They are all part of the big beautiful ensemble that delivers an exceptionally nice written novella.

Ah oh, the theme. It is something that I can truly relate to: a middle-age retired man who tried to live a peaceful ordinary British life. With a grown-up daughter and an ex-wife who he still maintains as a friend, he now lives alone with only the memoirs of how he thought his life went through as a young man. I think that this looking back to the what-ifs is one of the favorite pastimes of middle-age people during their spare quite time. And I am beginning to imbibe this hobby as I am approaching retirement ha ha.

You will pick this book if: 1. You make sure that you read all the Man Booker winning books; 2. You are a fan of Julian Barnes; or 3. You believe in my rating and you like this review.

You will like this book if: 1. You pretend to like or actually like less populist contemporary books; 2. You like all works of Julian Barnes and you hate to have an exception; and 3. You are an old or middle-age man and you are fond of thinking of your what-ifs.

Undoubtedly, one of the best books I’ve read this year. May the Good Lord bless you with more years so you can write more beautiful novels, Mr. Barnes.
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Feb 21, 2012 Elizabeth rated it 3 of 5 stars

Recommended to Elizabeth by: Newengland

Shelves: reviewed, 2012, in-by-of-england, overshare

I didn't know Sherman that well. He sat next to me in Algebra freshman year. We were in the far back corner, closer to the class behind us than the teacher, and for the first half of the year all of the material was a repeat for me (fuck you again high school and your insulting policies about mid-year transfers), so we talked more than we paid attention, and, like any healthy fourteen year old, I developed a crush of the kind only fourteen year old girls can have, which means that I was lost in...more I didn't know Sherman that well. He sat next to me in Algebra freshman year. We were in the far back corner, closer to the class behind us than the teacher, and for the first half of the year all of the material was a repeat for me (fuck you again high school and your insulting policies about mid-year transfers), so we talked more than we paid attention, and, like any healthy fourteen year old, I developed a crush of the kind only fourteen year old girls can have, which means that I was lost in what he represented to me rather than who he really was. Oh, Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo. The story ends almost as well. Over the summer, he killed himself. He was found, hanging, in the woods behind the high school. Devastating for those who were closest to him; hard for the rest of the class; and, for me, something out of parents' worst nightmares and after school specials; one suicide spreads the thought of it faster than word of a party at Jessica's house while her parents are away. I had my own reasons, of course, something complex involving failing French and an unhappy home life and low self-esteem, or whatever mixture of dumb stuff kids are upset about now. I was lucky though, beyond lucky. I fell in with some of the best people I have ever met and these three fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds saved my life just by being my friends and listening to me, being there for me, supporting me, through all of the pain I was going through. I am still friends with two of them. I went to their weddings and I've held their children and although we've managed to live as far away from each other as possible and still be within the continental US, I know that if I needed to, I really could call up either one of them, even now, and talk through the worst that life might have for me.

The other thing I had was my diary. Writing about an experience eases it. I still believe that. Even if it feels like hell at the time, getting it out, written out, makes it more manageable. It is contained there on the page (or on the screen) and it doesn't seem quite so bad when you go back to read it later. I would have been lost without that diary.

So, this book is about the asshole friend who doesn't do anything, who is too oblivious and caught up in himself to even pay attention to who his friends are as people. They exist to create a clique, in which they can feel superior to others, and to talk about how stupid their classmates are, and to give each other someone to hang out with at the pub. Their shared experiences mean little except in-jokes and so they drift apart because they never really needed each other in the first place. And when a diary surfaces in this story, in a most central way, I can't tell that he even read more than a single passage from it.

I never want to be that kind of person. Reading this book is like reviewing an outline of how not to be a person. The petty selfishness, the blinding of the self from truth, the deliberate obtuseness of the protagonist was painful to read about. I don't think it was because of what the author intended for us, which I believe was so obvious that I wonder why the book was necessary at all; one sentence that read, "You complacent, self-righteous, petty fucks" might have sufficed. It was painful because I ached for his friend, a man barely on the pages. I wanted the book to change, to be something different, to spare me any more time with asshole, and give me the story of the people who mattered. I didn't get it. It's too short and, of course, not the point of this it's-time-to-win-the-Booker novel. This is true Englishness, right here; it's all the things that make the rest of us cringe when we think of picking up the Booker winner but the appeal of it to certain heads-only intellectuals looking for criticism of their own society without feeling any uncomfortable lumps under the particular chair in which they sit as they read. This is that book. Like Hotel du Lac or Heat and Dust or even (and this hurts me a little) my beloved Possession, this book pokes at history and culture and the constraints of English-like behavior that is both critical of it and kind to it. They are made to feel bad just enough but not too bad. Not so much that they might actually be uncomfortable; just enough to discuss the criticism, elegantly, at a dinner party.

It makes me angry. It makes me so angry that Julian Barnes could so easily imagine a character such as asshole (I've forgotten his name already) and that we must watch while he calmly tells us his story and we are forced to peek around the edges at what he is really doing, how the others react to him, why events happen as they do. All the while, the real story is there, we just aren't allowed into it. We have to sit with him and I think even begin to feel sorry for him (fat chance) as he slowly pieces it together for himself and us.

This is pretty brilliant, actually, but it isn't what I wanted. I'm not criticizing him for that, per se; I'm just noting that it was a difficult read for me. The things that are important to me in my life and would have wanted in a story such as this were discarded or, at best, covered up, and never explored. That didn't just frustrate me. That hurt. The callousness of the book itself is starkly similar to that of the main character's. Again, that's really quite clever when you think about it; I just didn't want to.(less)

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Feb 06, 2012 Teresa rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This book got under my skin. Not in the negative way, like what Tony, the narrator, may be doing, or trying to do, to Veronica, who 40 years ago was his first serious girlfriend, but in the way he describes how his ex-wife would dress a chicken -- slipping butter and herbs under the skin, with a delicate hand, never breaking the outer layer. I was hooked from the first page and even when I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it, even in my sleep, or, more likely, semi-sleep. I was pulled int...more

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Jan 07, 2012 Kinga rated it 3 of 5 stars

Let me begin by saying that I don’t mind short, understated books – novellas if you like. I do like them. What I don’t like is paying the same money for a 150 page book, that could have easily been written by a skilled writer in a month, that I have to pay for a 826 page book involving loads of research full of medieval and linguistic references (yes, I am reading Nicola Barker’s Darkmans). I just don’t think that’s fair.

That said, it was a pretty decent book. It follows a very simple formula of...more Let me begin by saying that I don’t mind short, understated books – novellas if you like. I do like them. What I don’t like is paying the same money for a 150 page book, that could have easily been written by a skilled writer in a month, that I have to pay for a 826 page book involving loads of research full of medieval and linguistic references (yes, I am reading Nicola Barker’s Darkmans). I just don’t think that’s fair.

That said, it was a pretty decent book. It follows a very simple formula of an old man revisiting some events from his past. It has this Dead Poets Society/Catcher in the Rye feel to it if you know what I mean.

There is a lot of meditation on how people and situations become warped by our memory. Our memories, especially those that we think about a lot, become simplified, they become symbols, they lose all their nuances. They become a game of Chinese whispers - a message that our brain keeps repeating to itself until it loses all the details and becomes completely distorted.

This is not a terribly creative or original book and to be honest with you the final revelation was, er, rather cheesy. I know it is Julian Barnes, Booker Prize, what not, but that stuff was cheesy, ok?

Julian Barnes and his narrator don't "get" women. It really pisses me off because how can you 'get' men and not 'get' women? We are not some sort mysterious, mystical, half human half something else species. But women in 'The Sense of an Ending' move in very mysterious ways.

Tony's (the narrator's) ex-wife says one sentence to him : "Now you are on your own" and stops speaking to him. His ex-girlfriend comes back like a blast from the past to send him emails saying random things like : "You will never get it so don't even try" or meets up with him and doesn't talk at all but takes him to some place without any explanation. Seriously, WHO does that?
Don't even get me started on the mother of the ex-girlfriend. Every single woman in this book does some seriously outlandish things.

I know it all sounds like I didn't like the book, but I did. Me and that book we spent a nice afternoon together.(less)

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Aug 11, 2012 Emily May rated it 2 of 5 stars Recommends it for: philosophy fanatics

Recommended to Emily May by: Melina Marchetta

Shelves: 2012

I think my years as a philosophy student were actually detrimental to my enjoyment of this short novel about life and memory. The stuff that has left other people reeling in amazement reminded me of little more than just another essay on the mind and the way we think, the way we interpret events and the way our memories can let us down. Mr Barnes is clearly a clever man and his writing is a touch complex but always charming. However, is this really that original anymore?

I don't think so. I can...more

I think my years as a philosophy student were actually detrimental to my enjoyment of this short novel about life and memory. The stuff that has left other people reeling in amazement reminded me of little more than just another essay on the mind and the way we think, the way we interpret events and the way our memories can let us down. Mr Barnes is clearly a clever man and his writing is a touch complex but always charming. However, is this really that original anymore?

I don't think so. I can point you towards many - even young adult - books with equally unreliable narrators that are much more engaging, gripping and altogether more rewarding - even if they do lack the complexity of the mind-delving going on in The Sense of an Ending. And, though Barnes thoroughly explores the mind of Tony Webster, I found him to be a painfully bland and unexciting protagonist that no amount of philosophical thought could save.

This is a book that will suit people who like to think about everything. It is more or less the story of a very average man who pulls apart and analyses his memory of school, first love, first sexual encounters, his marriage... everything about his life. I thought I was the kind of person who likes to question things in an unbelievably anal way. For example, the other night I had the most pointless and stupid discussion with my dad about knowledge, where he said that he knew there were blind people in Spain (don't ask, just don't ask), and I said he couldn't possibly know that for certain unless he'd gone to Spain and met a blind person. He said he could. Then I said he couldn't. As you can tell, it was a very productive evening. But my point is that I enjoy philosophy.

Tony Webster, however, philosophises about his whole life, a life that just isn't interesting enough for me to care about the "reasons" behind its events. I like, in theory, the idea that everything isn't always as simple as it seems, that things run deeper, that people have hidden and questionable motivations for the things they do and say, and that memory is not the truth but the story we tell ourselves. The idea of this book, I like. And some people love the simplistic side of it, the analysis of real and everyday life, rather than using philosophy to look at murder or something equally dramatic. But I don't believe that Tony's story was exciting enough to want to question. I actually don't care why Adrian did what he did, or why Veronica's mother behaved in a certain way. Perhaps my biggest problem with this book is that I don't care about Tony.

Why would I want to hurt my brain straining to think about something that doesn't interest me? Some people obviously saw something much deeper in this, perhaps a message about society as a whole that says something important about our current world... perhaps not. I personally saw it as a failed attempt to turn the mediocre into something poetic. But it was too nicely written to be one star.(less)

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May 05, 2012 Jeffrey Keeten rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I had never really intended to read this book, and I certainly had no intention of owning it.

I was browsing in a B&N sitting out a winter storm in Lincoln, Nebraska and ran across of stack of The Sense of an Ending with BOOKER PRIZE WINNER blazoned across the front of the book. I dug through the stack of third printings and there near the bottom was one book with BOOKER PRIZE NOMINEE on the cover. Well it is sort of cosmic for a collector such as I to find one first American edition in the...more

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Mar 30, 2013 Cecily rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: miscellaneous-fiction

This is an exploration of memory, exquisitely written as the thoughts of an old man, looking back on his life.

It opens with six images (an unexpected word in several of them makes them more vivid), each of which form part of the story:

“I remember, in no particular order:
- a shiny inner wrist;
- steam rising from a wet sink as a frying pan is laughingly tossed into it;
- gouts of sperm circling a plughole, before being sluiced down the full length of a tall house;
- a river rushing nonsensically ups...more

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Oct 28, 2011 Felicity rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This is the third book from the 2011 Man Booker Prize Shortlist I've read. Patrick DeWitt's "The Sisters Brothers" remains far-and-away my favorite, but I can't say whether it's the best (or the most deserving winner). Both books are far superior to A. D. Miller's "Snowdrops," in my view. So that's my rankings so far.

Barnes' novel (or novella) is very short--only 160 pages. You will easily be able to read it in one sitting. The book has generated much discussion on blogs--and apparently, in book...more This is the third book from the 2011 Man Booker Prize Shortlist I've read. Patrick DeWitt's "The Sisters Brothers" remains far-and-away my favorite, but I can't say whether it's the best (or the most deserving winner). Both books are far superior to A. D. Miller's "Snowdrops," in my view. So that's my rankings so far.

Barnes' novel (or novella) is very short--only 160 pages. You will easily be able to read it in one sitting. The book has generated much discussion on blogs--and apparently, in book clubs--largely because of its ambivalent ending. I confess to getting immediately online after I finished to see if what I thought had happened concurred with what others thought...others do think the same as me, so it seems, but that's no guarantee we are "right." Barnes keeps you guessing right up until the last minute (the very last page), so don't assume that what becomes clear is actually clear. As Veronica keeps telling Tony: you just don't get it!

What's the book about? In his old age--divorced, contentedly retired--Tony receives an entirely unexpected bequest from the estate of an ex-girlfriend's (as in a before he got married girlfriend) mother. The bequest: five hundred pounds and a diary that belonged to an old, now deceased, schoolfriend, Adrian. The "action" (such as it is) of the book focuses on Tony's quest to recover the diary from Veronica, the ex-girlfriend. And before you assume this is some saucy, sexy reunion...think again. That's not the real nature of the quest for either Veronica or Tony.

Saying any more would reveal too much, although I admit this short description has hardly done justice to the many issues that the book addresses. As an historian, I marveled at the way Barnes so accurately captured the spirit of 1960s Britain--yes, it was the sixties, but no, we weren't all running around having sex on every street corner. He captured perfectly the tension between the promise of that decade (and the misinformation), and the desire (yes, we all wanted to be running around having sex all the time or, at least, we thought we should be...) There are many other things I enjoyed about this book, including its ambivalent ending, but my ultimate recommendation is that you should read it for yourself. As much as I loved "The Sisters Brothers" I can think of many reasons why "The Sense of An Ending" would be a worthy winner of this year's Booker. (less)

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Dec 05, 2011 Caris rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: 2011

The opening scene, which struck me as an overly-pretentious Dead Poets Society, left me with a faint taste of vomit in my mouth. Here we have these boys, and boys they very much are, debating philosophy in such an off-handed way. When they're faced with a true life experience, something that is held out to them, they intellectualize it and forget- proving that all of their books and grand ideas are nothing but a half-assed show. Their words have as much meaning as the foam on a gas station cappu...more

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May 03, 2013 Fionnuala rated it 5 of 5 stars

One of the things I admire about Barnes is the pared down nature of his writing. Every word counts. The division of this novella into two parts counts too. The reader could start with Part Two and the book wouldn't be any less clear. In fact, possible answers to most of the questions raised at the end of the book can be found on rereading Part One. More enlightenment comes while rereading Part Two.
(The following paragraph may contain spoilers) As to the possible answers to the questions raised...more

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Feb 21, 2012 Auntjenny rated it 1 of 5 stars

Definitely has a plot, but a pathetic one. Thin characters, cliched ideas. I feel annoyed by having read this book. OK, there was one good quote: “Sometimes I think the purpose of life is to reconcile us to its eventual loss by wearing us down, by proving, however long it takes, that life isn't all it's cracked up to be.”

But ultimately, the plot is a gimmick! I don't understand how this won the Booker Prize.

What the heck did Tony ever do to anyone except send a crappy letter to an ex-girlfrien...more

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Dec 15, 2011 Jennifer (aka EM) rated it 2 of 5 stars

Maybe, like Tony, I just don't get it, but this was a whole lot of Man Booker-winning to-do about very little.

Pretentious, upper middle-class schoolboys behave badly, and -- through too much ego and too little self-knowledge and empathy, too many book smarts and not enough life experience -- inflict cruelty on ex-girlfriends and others as they cavalierly grow out of their coddled adolescence into a ho-hum average life. It then comes back to haunt them - or one of them, anyway - in late middle-a...more Maybe, like Tony, I just don't get it, but this was a whole lot of Man Booker-winning to-do about very little.

Pretentious, upper middle-class schoolboys behave badly, and -- through too much ego and too little self-knowledge and empathy, too many book smarts and not enough life experience -- inflict cruelty on ex-girlfriends and others as they cavalierly grow out of their coddled adolescence into a ho-hum average life. It then comes back to haunt them - or one of them, anyway - in late middle-age, and as memories are jogged and regrets bubble to the surface, insight is finally gained. Sort of. It's really a dull spark of understanding nested in about the same amount of egocentric self-pity that it started out disguised by.

I guess it's a clever character study, but I didn't and don't like Tony. I think that *is* the point. I really just wanted to give him a smack upside the head and tell him to stop whining and get over himself, kind of like his ex-wife did.

All life has tragedy - and some lives here have *true* tragedy, which Tony fails to recognize even as he seem to be recognizing it (so I guess that's pretty clever of Barnes, but sheesh ...).

Tony's real insight seems to be the recognition that he's failed to live up to his own pompous and overblown expectations of greatness for himself. He's led an average life. And along the way, through his own obtuseness and arrogance, he's inflicted a not-inconsiderable degree of harm, which seems to be of less consequence to him in the grand scheme of things than the fact that he's lived a life of complacent mediocrity.

But then, Barnes leaves us there, with this fellow sighing into his beer and chips. I feel myself asking - but what's next? What this guy does NEXT will tell the real story of his character. I feel ... short-changed; unfulfilled. Harumph.

Subject: The last chapter

Dear Tony: The cure for your loneliness and sense of ennui is to pull your head out of your ass and go out and do something of value with the time you have left. Turn that insight into action that will do someone some good (and I don't mean just leaving a sizeable tip at the pub, either).

Love, Jen

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Jan 28, 2012 Cynthia rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: books-read-in-2011

I've read "Flaubert's Parrot" and "Arthur and George" by Barnes and liked "The Sense of an Ending" best. The book is short so you might be tempted to read quickly (or won't be able to help yourself from doing so) but it's best to slow down and enjoy his sense of language though it's deceptively simple.

"The Sense of an Ending" is the story of a retired aged man looking at childhood friendships and a significant college girlfriend against the back drop of his middle aged divorce. At each turn he f...more

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Aug 22, 2012 David Hallman rated it 3 of 5 stars

I Had High Hopes

I was really looking forward to reading Julian Barnes’ “The Sense of an Ending”. I wish that I could say that I really enjoyed having read it.

I was midway through the somewhat slight one-hundred-and-fifty-page novel when Barnes won the Man Booker Prize on October 18th. I was presumptuous enough to conjecture that my high expectations and early positive reactions sent just the vibes Barnes needed to sway the judges. Good thing I wasn’t further along in the book.

The more I read, th...more

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Mar 31, 2012 Carol rated it 4 of 5 stars

Recommended to Carol by: Chris and Cynthia

How a book of 163 pages can pack so much in its pages is beyond me. Some reviewers felt frustration at the brevity of Barnes’s novel but I was impressed.

Sense of an Ending has me thinking and will probably do so for some time to come. It may be where I am in life, not that I’m old but I am at the point where I have lots to look back on. A book like this makes me examine choices I’ve made, people I’ve known, and secrets I’ve kept. Perhaps it’s best not to dwell too much but certainly even at a l...more How a book of 163 pages can pack so much in its pages is beyond me. Some reviewers felt frustration at the brevity of Barnes’s novel but I was impressed.

Sense of an Ending has me thinking and will probably do so for some time to come. It may be where I am in life, not that I’m old but I am at the point where I have lots to look back on. A book like this makes me examine choices I’ve made, people I’ve known, and secrets I’ve kept. Perhaps it’s best not to dwell too much but certainly even at a later age you can learn from the past.

This first person narrative begins in the 60’s with the friendship of three young men and their classroom studies. We are hearing events as told by Tony Webster. An odd fourth, Adrian, joins the group and much of the opening explores issues of history and literature as the young men go about their studies. After graduation Tony meets a young woman, Veronica, who will play a central role in the story. Now, I don’t like Veronica and eventually neither does Tony. There are some funny scenes to get you to their demise. But then she takes up with Adrian. You could see this coming but not necessarily Tony’s reaction.

Fast forward many years to Tony at middle-age. He receives a note from a solicitor with a strange bequest from the estate of Veronica’s mother. Now the story starts to really brew. Why, who, what, etc. As you read to the end you will have many questions; some will be answered but perhaps not all. I like this in a book.

I loved Barnes’s description of “going out” It’s hysterical. I loved how he handled young sex and his maturing libido. One last thing I’d say. I found myself writing down lots of quotes. Here’s just one that grabbed me:

Marriage is along dull meal with the pudding served first Agree or disagree, it’s a beauty!

I know I’m often vague in my comments on books. I hate to give too much plot away. I’d rather you go away knowing how I felt at the end. Though not all was dark, in the end I found this a brooding story, one that will conjure ghosts for me and remain in my thoughts.

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Dec 03, 2011 aPriL MEOWS often with scratching rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: literary

I've read the reviews, I know this is considered a Booker Prize winner - but it completely disappointed me. There are many philosophical statements that initially appear marvelously insightful, there are many quotable statements on memory and history when one examines the open mysteries that are unresolved from the past. I expected an insightful novel. Then the first dissonance: Veronica. As the book continued, I began to despise her. And the constant, "you don't get it.". No, I didn't. By the t...more I've read the reviews, I know this is considered a Booker Prize winner - but it completely disappointed me. There are many philosophical statements that initially appear marvelously insightful, there are many quotable statements on memory and history when one examines the open mysteries that are unresolved from the past. I expected an insightful novel. Then the first dissonance: Veronica. As the book continued, I began to despise her. And the constant, "you don't get it.". No, I didn't. By the time of the Reveal, I was so annoyed by her I hoped she would commit suicide before the book was done. Miss Haversham, I presume? An aristocratic snob of the worst kind, Veronica thinks the Universe owes her perfection, finds the failure of Life to give her the golden shiny things she deserved as well as the usual knee bending homage of ordinary men towards herself too disturbing to deal with, so she tries to bury every memory of the past with scorching disdain and silence. Then, there is the narrator, who lives his life feeling it was all over when he was 20 something because of Veronica's rejection and Adrian's suicide, so he does the modern upper crust way of falling on his sword by accepting it was somehow all his fault, and lives a life of lessor being, having given up all high flying.

When Veronica's mother dies and leaves a legacy to our narrator, everything comes out and is partly revealed. Omg. These noble beings turn out to be hiding an MTV reality show plot. This book is being feted as if it was Great Literature, and it turns into Monty Python. I'm American, not British, so I suppose this book is one of those cultural things on how it is supposed to read and how it read to me. Our intellectual superiors' messy lives are Emotionally Significant. Yawn. A tawdry story is simply sexual impulses acted on with consequences that impact innocent parties owed some sort of compensation, even if it's only an explanation, and nothing deeper is involved. This book gives the impression it will explore eternal truths, instead I felt I was in a boring Joan Crawford movie from the 1950's. (less)

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Jan 25, 2012 Melki rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: best-of-2012, family-based-fiction

We seem to have little control over our memories. The smallest things - an image, a smell, a color - can trigger scenes from our pasts, with such intensity, that it can cause physical pain.

And then, there is that small grain of doubt. Are we remembering things the way they were, or the way we wished they had been? In our recollections, we surely appear kinder, smarter, younger, thinner and better looking. And we never did anything deliberately cruel... did we?

This is a lovely, lovely book, pack...more

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Aug 21, 2012 Kedar rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: books-i-own, favourite-books, read-in-2012, to-reread

Losing all hope was freedom. - Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club
...

Normally, I tend to form the review of a book halfway through the book and then it gets a finer shape as I complete the book. Sometimes the review that I have in mind suddenly metamorphoses into a completely different set of words. But with this book, I just am not able to collect my thoughts to pen them down.

I really liked the book. After completing it I decided that someday, when I grow older than what I am right now, I will read thi...more

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May 14, 2013 Goldmund rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: favorites

Rất nhiều khi trong đời, ta vừa tưởng đã tìm ra được sự thật, thì ngay lập tức có những manh mối khác xuất hiện mách ta rằng, cái ta biết hoá ra chỉ là một phiên bản sự thật không lấy gì làm chính xác lắm. Và nhiều khi, ta tưởng đã nhớ ra một câu chuyện, một sự kiện gì đó trong quá khứ mà ta dự phần, để rồi lại phát hiện thật ra ta chẳng nhớ gì, hoặc cái nhớ của ta hoàn toàn sai lệch. Trí nhớ luôn có khả năng “phản thùng” ta.

“Lịch sử là sự khẳng định sinh ra ở điểm giao nhau giữa sự không hoàn...more Rất nhiều khi trong đời, ta vừa tưởng đã tìm ra được sự thật, thì ngay lập tức có những manh mối khác xuất hiện mách ta rằng, cái ta biết hoá ra chỉ là một phiên bản sự thật không lấy gì làm chính xác lắm. Và nhiều khi, ta tưởng đã nhớ ra một câu chuyện, một sự kiện gì đó trong quá khứ mà ta dự phần, để rồi lại phát hiện thật ra ta chẳng nhớ gì, hoặc cái nhớ của ta hoàn toàn sai lệch. Trí nhớ luôn có khả năng “phản thùng” ta.

“Lịch sử là sự khẳng định sinh ra ở điểm giao nhau giữa sự không hoàn hảo của ký ức và sự thiếu hụt về tư liệu” – trong The Sense of an Ending (tạm dịch Dự cảm về một đoạn kết), cuốn tiểu thuyết vừa đoạt giải Man Booker năm 2011 của Julian Barnes, cậu học trò Adrian đã trả lời câu hỏi “Lịch sử là gì?” của thầy giáo như thế. Adrian mượn cái chết của Robson, một người bạn cùng lớp – một cậu trai tự tử sau khi làm cho bạn gái có bầu – để minh hoạ câu trả lời của mình. Cậu đặt câu hỏi: “Chúng ta biết cậu ta đã chết, biết cậu ấy có bạn gái, biết bạn gái cậu ấy có bầu, nhưng liệu chúng ta biết gì hơn về cái chết đó? Cậu ta để lại lời nhắn nào? Lời nhắn đó có còn hay bị huỷ? Liệu Robson có động cơ nào khác? Liệu đứa con có đúng của cậu ta? Dù sự kiện chỉ mới xảy ra, mọi người không biết chắc đâu là sự thật. Rồi 50 năm sau, khi ai đó muốn viết về cái chết của Robson, khi ba mẹ cậu ta đã qua đời và bạn gái cậu ta cũng biến mất thì sao?” Thầy giáo của Adrian trả lời rằng Adrian đã đánh giá thấp lịch sử và các sử gia, vì các sử gia luôn phải đương đầu với vấn đề thiếu chứng cứ trực tiếp. Tuy vậy, có nhiều cách để tìm hiểu lịch sử, xác định sự thật; ví dụ trong trường hợp này, họ có thể truy tìm hồ sơ giám định pháp y, tìm xem Robson có để lại nhật ký hoặc thư từ nào không, rồi phúc đáp của cha mẹ cậu cho các thư chia buồn cũng có thể cung cấp manh mối... Bằng cách đó, các sử gia có thể phục dựng lịch sử cái chết của Robson.

Tony, nhân vật chính xưng tôi trong The Sense of an Ending, bạn thân của Adrian, ở tuổi về hưu, đã ứng dụng câu trả lời của thầy giáo lịch sử năm nào để đương đầu với sự không hoàn hảo của trí nhớ (Tony hoàn toàn quên mình đã viết một lá thư kinh khủng như thế nào cho Adrian và bạn gái cũ của mình và là bạn gái của Adrian khi đó) và sự thiếu hụt về tư liệu (cuốn nhật ký của Adrian mà Tony chỉ được đọc mỗi một trang) để phục dựng lịch sử cái chết của Adrian. Cuộc tìm hiểu đó không thiếu những ngoắt ngoéo khiến người đọc bất ngờ vào phút chót, nhưng phát hiện lớn nhất có thể là dù sống cả đời người ta cũng chẳng hiểu gì về cuộc đời cả.

Tuy nhiên, để viết một cuốn sách như thế này, người viết cần có một sự hiểu đời sâu sắc. Trong tiểu thuyết mới nhất này, Julian Barnes cho thấy mình vừa có dáng vẻ của một giáo sư về cuộc đời – cuốn sách có quá nhiều điều để người đọc chiêm nghiệm – vừa có phong thái của một bác sĩ thực hiện những cuộc vi phẫu: ngôn ngữ của ông là một thứ ngôn ngữ với độ chính xác cực kỳ cao. Bản thân cuốn sách, một tiểu thuyết không quá dài nhưng đích thực là tiểu thuyết do hàm lượng cuộc đời đầy ắp của nó, cũng có dáng dấp của một truyện ngắn khi dường như không có chi tiết thừa. Đọc The Sense of an Ending, có thể ta không biết chắc mình hiểu tất cả những gì tác giả định nói, nhưng có một điều ta biết chắc: sẽ phải đọc lại ngay khi vừa đọc xong.

Man Booker 2011 là giải thưởng quá xứng đáng cho The Sense of an Ending, một cuốn sách được viết quá đẹp để ban giám khảo có thể quyết định khác. Thực tế, ban giám khảo chỉ mất nửa tiếng đồng hồ để đi đến quyết định này. Julian Barnes, một gương mặt quan trọng của văn học Anh đương đại, còn là tác giả ba tiểu thuyết khác từng lọt vào chung khảo giải thưởng Man Booker: Flaubert’s Parrot (Con vẹt của Flaubert, 1984), England, England (Anh quốc, Anh quốc, 1998) và Arthur & George (2005)

(Bài đã đăng Sài Gòn Tiếp Thị)(less)

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Aug 07, 2012 Inder Suri rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: favorites, exquisite-language, 2012, my-library, my-muse, mull_over-and-sing, re-read

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. "This was another of our fears: that Life wouldn’t turn out to be like Literature. "
--Julian Barnes

'The Sense of an Ending' is very beautifully and articulately written with profound depth and with dose of Philosophy every now and then. I just can't express how much I loved the first 20-25 pages of the book . That actually made my approach towards the book more avid . I actually had to take a pencil in my hand,while reading this book,to mark all those sentences which I found really interesting a...more "This was another of our fears: that Life wouldn’t turn out to be like Literature. "
--Julian Barnes

'The Sense of an Ending' is very beautifully and articulately written with profound depth and with dose of Philosophy every now and then. I just can't express how much I loved the first 20-25 pages of the book . That actually made my approach towards the book more avid . I actually had to take a pencil in my hand,while reading this book,to mark all those sentences which I found really interesting and worth giving a second-thought to. And guess what I ended up underlining more than 1/4th of the text. All the discussions regarding Tony and his clique along with Adrian just made perfect sense to me. If only one can find such a clique or group of friends to discuss things that way ,who share common interest like Art and Literature .

As the story proceed,you find all the friends have gone their separate ways after completing school. Tony goes to university in Bristol and Adrian to Cambridge. At Bristol,Tony has a brief and perplexed relationship with Veronica,who,shortly after their acrimonious breakup,starts going out with Adrian,a fact Tony only discovers when Adrian writes to him to ask him for permission to do so. Tony writes him a facetious card to the effect of ‘Be my guest’ and,later,a more considered,serious letter. He spends a year travelling in the USA then returns home to the news of Adrian’s suicide. From this point onwards Barnes masterfully compresses the events in Tony’s life that are not germane to this particular story – steady job; marriage to Margaret; birth of daughter,Susie; divorce; retirement – to two pages then moves on to Part Two, where the long shadow of the past with Veronica and Adrian falls over Tony’s life again.

Tony Webster is in his mid-sixties when he receives a letter from a lawyer with an unusual bequest from the mother of Veronica, an ex-girlfriend of his from 40 years before. He is left some money and the diary of his old school chum Adrian. Veronica makes it impossible for Tony to acquire the diary so what follows is Tony's recollection of that period of his life. Why did Adrian commit suicide shortly after hooking up with Veronica? Does Tony remember things accurately or has the passage of time blurred the truth?

After finishing the book, I just wasn't sure how to react and I guess that was the case with most of the readers << It can be understood from their reviews >> . Near the end this book takes some peculiar turns that leaves all the readers spellbound . To be frank , I wasn't expecting any such thing . The maximum I could make my mind to reach to a conclusion was that 'It's not Adrian but TONY who is the father of younger Adrian'. But after I completed the book, the story was completely different. Althought I didn't like it at first because I was expecting a simple ending but I later found it somewhat intriguing. I guess many readers will actually plan to re-read it after they have completed it once.

While reading the PART-TWO, we have in our mind all the time that TONY is the one to be blamed for the Adrian's suicide. Barnes actually made us believe that very well through the protagonist's << Tony >> thought-process. But later we find that Younger Adrian << the gangly bloke >> is actually the son of Adrian and Sarah, Vernoica's mother. And that could be one best possible reason why Adrian committed suicide. But then one thing that comes to mind is ' why did Veronica << the taciturn >> behaved so strange with Tony all through these years. Maybe that was the scheme he just used to bring out this Novel ....
Anyways , one thing is for sure that Barnes' intention is to deliberately leave the ending open to interpretation.

I would have given this book 4 stars, But considering the language Barnes used and all those philosophical punches in between,I have to give it a 5-star rating .... (less)

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Apr 11, 2012 THE rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

THE SENSE OF AN ENDING is by one of the notable group of contemporary British authors (including Barnes, Amis, McEwan, Rushdie, and Ishiguro) who have reached such a level of public prominence that their writings have become secondary at times to their political pronouncements, personal tiffs, and non-literary activities. Nonetheless, celebrity status aside, their books more often than not offer good value for time spent. The present slim volume was recently awarded the Man Booker Prize, a first...more THE SENSE OF AN ENDING is by one of the notable group of contemporary British authors (including Barnes, Amis, McEwan, Rushdie, and Ishiguro) who have reached such a level of public prominence that their writings have become secondary at times to their political pronouncements, personal tiffs, and non-literary activities. Nonetheless, celebrity status aside, their books more often than not offer good value for time spent. The present slim volume was recently awarded the Man Booker Prize, a first for Julian Barnes in spite of several deserving novels, including FLAUBERT'S PARROT and ARTHUR & GEORGE among others. Although I am not prepared to suggest that the Man Booker committee regarded this prize as a lifetime achievement award to its distinguished colleague, it was clearly a controversial choice in the view of both critics and readers.

The title of the book is derived from a published series of lectures by the late professor and critic of English literarture Frank Kermode on the topic of apocalyptic crisis and chaos with respect to literary works. In an ironic way, the brief tale of the protagonist, a rather dull, complacent, and late-middle-aged Tony Webster, fits Kermode's rather more grandiose eschatological tenets. Tony is forced to review aspects of his early life by a peculiar bequest he has received and, as a result, to reflect upon his comfortable, if drab, self-image. Eventually, he must reconfigure his personal history and his relationships to people distant in his memory. In a sense, Tony's life journey has hit a crater along its previous rather smooth highway. He must recollect events with his male school companions, specifically the brilliant if somewhat iconoclastic Adrian Finn, and his enigmatic college girlfriend Veronica Ford. It is difficult to say more about the plot and characters without revealing details that will spoil the conclusion for some potential readers. It is sufficient to say that Tony is forced to remember more than he is willing to recall (or relate) as the result of a letter he once sent (which comes to light after his unexpected inheritance). He must reconsider the nature of his past personal relations, the behavior of his friends, and the direction of his own life. In a sense, Tony must recognize that one's perceived life stories are not only often faulty, but may actual contain counterfactuals that render them counterfeit. One's past, as with history itself, is not simply the lies of the victors nor the delusions of the defeated: "It's more the memories of the survivors, most of whom are neither victorious nor defeated."

The ownership of our personal past is both transitory and questionable...truly a Hegelian question for which there is rarely a synthesis. Questions of age, time, and mortality only serve to confuse our understanding. Tony must finally conclude that "when we are young, we invent different futures for ourselves; when we are old, we invent different pasts for others."

There is much to consider in this short book as we unpeel its layers, but there are serious flaws that deflect its trajectory. In part, the emphasis by the author on its "surprise ending" seems more of a contrived invention than a revelation based on philosophical insight or profound reflection. Moreover, the characterization of key players, even from Tony's questionable perspectives, is far too superficial with respect to both Adrian and Veronica. Veronica, in fact, constantly tells Tony that he does not understand and never will..."so stop even trying." Is she speaking specifically of their past or is she reflecting on the larger question of comprehending alternate versions of one's history? We can never really tell despite the ultimate revelations.

This is a book worth perusing with care for its narrative and prose. Although it raises issues of profundity, the style is mostly light and humorous. Nonetheless, such lucidity of structure does not suffice for the lack of character development, which can be partly explained by a desire by Barnes to intrigue the reader with a twist at the conclusion. This device (dare I say, gimmick) is not only questionable, but I believe diminishes the volume's more serious intent and sends the reader back not to relish the serious commentary or elegant writing, but to search for clues like a postmodern detective. Alas, there is much to praise here, but THE SENSE OF ENDING would have been a better novel without its...nonsense of an ending.

(less)

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Feb 11, 2012 Sue rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Recommended to Sue by: Constant Reader

Shelves: british-britain, contemporary-fiction, read-in-2012, kindle

So much has been said about this book. I don't want to add spoilers here though most people I know have already read it. Sense of an Ending concerns memory, how we retrieve it and shape it, it's subjectivity and malleability over time, aging which is part of all our lives (should we survive) and inevitable death.

I had a large gap between book 1 and 2 as I was reading it on a friend's iPad. That was a nice experience---as was discussing the book afterward. The reading varied. Barnes' writing is n...more

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Nov 03, 2011 David rated it 5 of 5 stars

WOW What a book. From beginning to end I was hooked by the story, by the intelligence of the words and the mystery that Julian Barnes subtly unravels before us. This is a novella or short novel (150 pages) but there was not a word lacking nor superfluous. I read it in a day and the ending wallops you.

This is the story of memory and how we use it. It centers on Tony, a sixty-year old who forty years ago was intertwined with two friends Adrian and Veronica, who he dated for a year before she "blow...more WOW What a book. From beginning to end I was hooked by the story, by the intelligence of the words and the mystery that Julian Barnes subtly unravels before us. This is a novella or short novel (150 pages) but there was not a word lacking nor superfluous. I read it in a day and the ending wallops you.

This is the story of memory and how we use it. It centers on Tony, a sixty-year old who forty years ago was intertwined with two friends Adrian and Veronica, who he dated for a year before she "blows him off" in a mysterious manner. When he discovers she is dating Adrian, in a drunken rage he sends them both a nasty letter hoping to put both out of his mind. A few years later Adrian, following after the existential philosopher Camus, kills himself in a dramatic function believing "that we had no choice being born, but we have the choice to end it".

The novella is divided in two parts: his youth and old age. What ties the two periods is when Tony, now a senior and retired, gets some inheritance money and reference to Adrian's diary from Veronica's mother who recently passed away. No spoiler here as the plot unwinds in Barnes' simple and evocative style.

What I find fascinating in all of Barnes' work is how he builds the ordinary person as just that - ordinary like all of us. Tony goes through life as Veronica says " you just don't get it" and only through his persistence, does he find out what it is he is missing. As an aging male and a very ordinary person, I can empathize with Tony. Of course, Barnes' wit follows through the story surprizing us at various points. It's never heavy-handed and always ready to break the mood, which begins in a rather fun mode and changes as the story develops.

I am a big fan of Barnes and really enjoyed his collection of short stories, "Pulse" just published a few months ago. It left me wanting more and Barnes delivers in this story. Favorable reviews in the Globe and Mail and The Guardian. As noted, it is a short story but one ponders so many points raised after the story was done. This makes it even more worthwhile to read.(less)

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Feb 03, 2013 Gary McTiernan rated it 2 of 5 stars

Up to now I thought I admired Julian Barnes. Maybe I mixed him up with another 60 something British novelist. Here, the protagonist, Tony, is described as average in every way. That isn't fair to say because he is above average-even superior-in his ability to evoke boredom. Reading this is like being stuck on an airplane with someone who persists in sharing intimate details of his life with you without considering your response. People say this is a guy's book. They must be talking about some ot...more

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Mar 28, 2013 Dolors rated it 4 of 5 stars Recommends it for: anyone

Recommended to Dolors by: Cecily

Shelves: read-in-2013

"The Sense of an Ending" is that kind of introspective book that could ruin what is left of my so-called social life. But well, the heart asks for pleasure first, and I have always been easy to succumb into temptation. Bittersweet temptation in this case.

Julian Barnes took my hand, and through Tony Webster's voice, allowed me to walk down his memory lane, or as he would say, the best version of the memory he might have created, his version of the facts. Time and truth. Slippery subjects.
Tony has...more "The Sense of an Ending" is that kind of introspective book that could ruin what is left of my so-called social life. But well, the heart asks for pleasure first, and I have always been easy to succumb into temptation. Bittersweet temptation in this case.

Julian Barnes took my hand, and through Tony Webster's voice, allowed me to walk down his memory lane, or as he would say, the best version of the memory he might have created, his version of the facts. Time and truth. Slippery subjects.
Tony has had an ordinary, peaceful life: a career followed by a comfortable retirement, an amicable marriage (and divorce), a child who left the nest successfully years ago. What we should all expect from "life", I guess.
But then, as he revisits his youthful days, the young man that once, long ago, was himself and whom he has carried inside for all these years, mocks back at him and says "Is that everything you managed to do?" His so coveted ordinariness doesn't seem so comfortable now age is pressing on him.

On the first section of the book, the reader can "remember" along with Tony: his first experiences in High School and later in the University. Sex-hungry, book-hungry gang of men-to-be, Tony and his peers are arrogant, awkward and naive. It was a joy to see the delicate but incisive way in which Barnes describes the unspoken repression of the Sixties and its toll in each of the characters, especially Adrian, who ends up committing suicide, and the enigmatic Veronica, Tony's first and failed attempted girlfriend who later starts dating Adrian.
Forty years later Tony receives a letter from his attorney informing him that he had been left Adrian's diary in a will, withhold by Veronica during all these past years, and as Tony reopens his relationship with her in order to obtain the diary, he starts to relive his past realizing on the way that his memories might not be as trustworthy as he thought.

"But time...how time first grounds us and then confounds us. We thought we were being mature when we were only being safe. We imagined we were being responsible but were only being cowardly. What we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding things rather than facing them."

And so it begins his obsession to recover Adrian's diary, the only document which might be the only evidence of what his unreliable and subjective memory can't (or won't) prove for certain. Shame, remorse and despair his only companions during this last journey to an inevitable and desolating conclusion, which for me, wasn't the best of this story.
The veracity of testimony, a tricky subject to dwell on. Isn't Toby's first account of the facts following an instinct for self-preservation? But is it deliberate? And, to a greater extend, does it not happen the same with History? Isn't the History we are taught at school the one told and passed on by those who prevailed? Those who won? But what about the version of the ones who perished on the way?

"History is the certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation."

And although I agree with other readers who criticized the lack or originality or the pretentious tone of the narrator, I guess that for me, it's not as much "the what" but "the how" which matters. And Tony's realistic and not a bit nostalgic voice stirred something in me, even though he is not a likable character.

This novel has left me disheartened and wanting somehow. I haven't found what I (or Tony?) was looking for. No redemption, no second chance to atone for our actions (sins?). And the realization that sometimes even our perfect framed memories can be deceitful is depressing. There might come a time when we have to be brave enough to stop cheating, not only to others, but mainly to ourselves.
And in that sense, I have experienced a premature death while still living, one which comes when the truth slaps at your face and awakens you from a long life lethargic sleep, when you have to accept that it's far too late because your own ending is coming into focus. "The Sense of an Ending". Indeed.(less)

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Oct 19, 2012 ☽ Moon ☯ 佛月球 Будда Луны rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Recommended to ☽ Moon ☯ by: Mala

History...Memories...mere deceptions of Time?...Where then lies the Truth?...

In plain definition, history is a series of events that took place in the irretrievable past, supposedly transcribed in verbatim with impartiality mainly for the edification of human pursuits, accepted as the Truth based on the actuality of Time , as the solidity of its authenticity is judged and interpreted by the current leading majority, moulding it according to the fancy of the many, but in truth, its underlying es...more

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