Ian McEwan's new novel, The Children Act, revisits one of his favorite themes: how a messy encounter with a stranger can crack open and reshape the lives of privileged people. In this case the protagonist is a highly successful female judge who is in a long, but childless, marriage. The novel opens with her husband threatening an affair. McEwan's rhythmic prose captures the patterns in the judge's life, from her morning preparations and processes of walking to and from work, to the intimate rituals in a long marriage, to the details of the judge's cases in family court. McEwan enlivens the narrative with surprising references, such as "she turned right toward her broad landing onto which the doors of many High Court judges faced--like an advent calendar, she sometimes thought" (50). The cases themselves are interesting, underscoring the judge's reasoned judgements as well as the emotional scarring caused by certain cases. Her newest case concerns a precocious young man who is refusing a blood transfusion because of religious beliefs. The scenes between Fiona and the young man are poignant, intense and unscripted, in contrast to her usual life. Throughout the novel, belief and disbelief, reason and emotion, alternate. Music forms an underlying theme, whether Fiona's love of classical music and piano, her husband of jazz, or the young man who is just learning the violin. And at critical moments, the words and laments of a ballad. In the course of this very readable book, both Fiona and the reader learn that there are no choices without consequences--and redemption itself comes with a cost.
Published on March 17, 2015 07:52