Constant Reader

[Sherry]

That's what I thought, Ruth. Repress repress repress. And it also explains her revulsion. I would certainly be repelled by sex if something that terrible had happened to me.

[Marsha]

Thanks, Ricki. You illuminated many of my intuitions about this couple. I was reading posts earlier about how "wrong" this couple had seemed for each other, when to my thinking, they probably coupldn't have been "right" for anyone else- for the reasons you expressed so well. It was part of the tragedy for me. If they had been able to get past that night, they may have been able to help each other heal- a primary goal in marriage anyway.

[Dottie]

Thank you, Ricki, for your wonderfully thought out post on this. You have finally given me a comfortable view of McEwan, the works of his which I've read thus far and my own vague responses to them. The details have somehow fallen into place so that I at last understand why he keeps drawing me to read book after book and then find myself in just enough discomfort to wonder why. Enduring Love as I repeatedly have said took me three attempts and some "hand-holding" to finally finish and actually see the book whole. Interesting how you point out each book having a slight off viewpoint concerning love.

And I wonder from what you pointed out -- could it be that Edward's responses to the situation have grown from having seen his father's and mother's role reversal in living arrangement at a time when that would not have been at all the norm? I can see that this may have been a major factor in his not pressing Florence or questioning her -- and it helps explain for me why he didn't immediately run after her out onto the beach.

Ruth, I agree that Florence seemed ignorant but what I kept thinking was 'she knows far too much and has known for far longer than she should have'. She was too adamant in her actions, reactions, and almost too clinical somehow. This came out strongly when she tried to overcome her situation by studying the sex manual -- she was almost attempting to disguise her knowledge by responding as if she did not know how to respond -- which combined with the problem Edward experienced was unnecessary as it were. Communication would have helped but likely not enough to undo all the ills these two brought with them. I think good counseling perhaps but that hadn't become the norm most places then either. Floremce's idea was amazingly progressive for the place and time I would think -- and in fact -- I'm wondering about Edward not at least being a more in tune with the idea given the equally rather atypical home in which he lived -- but maybe that was the very reason it didn't strike him as workable. Later he did conclude it might have been a solution if I recall correctly.

As I've said once here -- I think OCB has a place at the top of my McEwan list. As for the brevity -- I think it is a small novel -- as opposed to a novella. A fine line perhaps but that's my thinking. I also think it is a very finely cut jewel in a growing body of work by an author who has had a hard time earning his place on my favorite authors list -- On Chesil Beach has won me over and calmed my quibbles with others of his which have been haunting me.

[Jane]

I find myself agreeing with MAP on this. I thought that the novel was too short and that the end was "hurried". I didn't believe that neither of them went on to experience any kind of a long-lasting relationship. They seemed traumatized for life by the wedding night. I loved the unfolding of the story and then it just stopped. That is why I gave the book only two stars in my rating.

Jane

[Barbara]

Excellent analysis, Ricki. Regarding the importance of place, I remember from McEwan's interview that the place where they went for their wedding night was extremely important, maybe one of the first thoughts that he had for the story. The unyielding quality of it was perfect for that interchange between Florence and Edward when he finally goes out to find her. I don't have the book here to name it, but have you been there, Ricki? And, do you remember enough to elaborate on what I've said, Sherry?

[Barbara]

Jane and MAP, I wonder if the reason I don't find the same faults that you do in the length of this is that I love short stories. I liked that quality of focusing on one day and night, but with everything leading to it and away from it connected as well.

[Ricki]

Yes Barbara,

Chesil Beach is lovely - having said that my children always have said that I can manage to take them to every shingle (pebble) beach in England when we were out exploring and looking for places to make sand castles. If you look at Google Earth and put in Abbotsbury, England and then move to that long straight beach along the coast south and going south east of it, that is Chesil Beach. It's a bit protected as it is on the Channel side as opposed to the Atlantic side. On my Google Earth I can see some photos of it attached - whether this is because I have ticked something special or not I'm not sure (I use Google Earth quite frequently to find out about places I read about and found it a fantastic resource when I was reading about the Silk Road so I add lots of bits on the possibly boxes).
If you are interested you can also do Christmas Common, Turville Heath, Stonor etc. and see how farm/woody they are even today. They lie in almost a circular area a bit north of Henley.
After I posted yesterday I went on to look for some bits on the net about Ian McEwan - it seems he lived in North Oxford for a while (where he has Florence's family living). I found this interesting because he set Saturday in his current family home in London.

[Sherry]

I remember McEwan saying one of the reasons he chose Chesil Beach as the site of the "talk" is because it is so isolated. You run down it, and it goes a good ways, but there is no way back except the way you came. So Florence would have to confront Edward eventually, whenever he came after her. Well, now that I write that, isn't that a nice little metaphor for life's problems? They must be examined, not ducked. Of course, they didn't exactly examine them in any way to make a better resolution.

[Barbara]

Duh-I can't believe that I said I couldn't remember the name of the place where they stayed when it is the title! Ah well.

Thanks for the idea about Google earth. We use it when we are finding places to hike around here, but I never think of using it elsewhere.

[Ruth]

Your slip has made my morning, Barb. What a relief--someone younger than I am has slipped in the muck.

You're probably right, Steve. These days she might have consulted the other Ruth, the Dr. one.

R

[Sherry]

Steve, you have me laughing your own self. "She was revolted by the idea of the penetration. . . . .for whatever reason. I personally can’t blame her. I’m not especially fond of the idea myself. That’s why I’ve made it a point to stay out of prison."

Stay good, Stevie boy, stay good.

[Barbara]

The sad thing is that it has nothing to do with age. I might easily have done the same thing 40 years ago, with no excuse. And, did you notice how Ricki and Sherry just went on talking about it without telling me what a dunce I was?

Steve, I think your observation about her passion about music taking the place of her sexual passion is dead on.

[Books Ring Mah Bell]

I am SOOOO late to this discussion... what a great one it is!

Steve's comment '...That’s why I’ve made it a point to stay out of prison."
it was worth reading the book and being on this thread for that laugh alone!

decent read, looking forward to more Ian!

*spoilers*
I thought she was certainly sexually abused, and I was surprised Edward didn't take her up on the proposal to "help himself" to other women...

[Cynthia]

I thought this book was neither too short nor too long. (I guess it's about 40K words, right at the border of novella/novel.) It takes all the elements I love about short fiction and lets the reader linger without all the plot of a novel.

Leslie,I agree McEwan's craft was seamless, really--switching from the points of views, we are left with the poignancy of knowing they didn't know each other, and--especially in Florence's case--did not know themselves. Florence is very complex--the way she seemed to depersonalize or was surprised by her own actions. The products of their parents' flaws ( I agree Florence was traumatized by hers), their marriage wasn't going to work. Edward looks back in regret about Florence, idealizing her perhaps, not knowing what the reader knows about Florence. At first, I think it's easy for the reader to be convinced by Edward that he could have arrived at a better place if he had acted differently-- like Hollywood love stories like to manipulate-- but what I think is really poignant is we probably know better than Edward, given we know more than he can. Maybe.

[Ricki]

Cynthia - I like that - 'I think it's easy for the reader to be convinced by Edward that he could have arrived at a better place if he had acted differently-- like Hollywood love stories like to manipulate-- but what I think is really poignant is we probably know better than Edward, given we know more than he can. Maybe.'

Sometimes when I'm deeply into a book I forget that we know more than the character does. Thank you for reminding me - I think the comment is very perceptive as he has no idea, just like each of us in our own lives, that he could have landed in a different place.

[Jen]

*SPOILERS*



I finished the book yesterday and wanted a little time to mull it over before coming to the comment boards. When I finished the book, I was annoyed by the ending-- it felt cramped, and one-sided (what about Florence?). Reading the comments here, I believe I have a better appreciation for what McEwan was doing with the ending. As others have said, we are meant to feel the loss and distance that Edward himself feels. Also, although both Edward and Florence had problems with communication, I think Florence was more closed-off. The more I think about it, the more it's obvious that ending the book with a discussion of her emotional journey subsequent to the dissolution of her and Edward's marriage would be untrue to her character.

While reading, I saw the incest in Florence's past as the primary reason for her aversion to all things sexual. I think the uncontrollable mix of guilt and anger Florence displays on the beach is consistent with the theme of sexual abuse. Although I'm not familiar with the psychology traditionally associated with incest, I saw her guilt as a vestige of the guilt she felt during her childhood, and the anger at Edward as the finally-unleashed anger felt toward her father. I also wonder whether or not Florence's mother knew of or suspected the abuse. Florence notes that her mother is never physical with her-- this could simply be her temperament, or could be a reaction to what her mother thinks or believes about the relationship between father and daughter.

[Mary Anne]

Barb, and all,
I'm not really taking issue with the shortness of this book. Certainly, if McEwan wants to put the words "a novel" on the front cover he has earned the right to do so. Perhaps the literary form has evolved beyond my understanding. And maybe my steady diet of reading fiction about the civil war in Nigeria, life after armagedon, with major themes like betrayal, or man's quest for redemption, and so on, set me up for this reaction.
All I can say is that when I finished this book, I felt let down by what I had come to expect from McEwan. I liked the book, but felt that it was not substantive or that something was missing. My reaction upon finishing it was "gee, I'm glad I didn't buy this book, but got it from the library."
So I go away humming the old Peggy Lee tune: "Is that all there is? If that's all there is, my friend, I'll keep dancing."

[Jane]

Cynthia,

I don't agree that their marriage wasn't going to work. We don't really know that, because they didn't give it a chance to work. One night does not let a couple decide whether a marriage will work or not. If one of them had turned to the other on the beach and said, "Let's try to save our marriage", it might have worked. Florence may have been able to face her horrible experience of incest and Edward may have been able to help her.

MAP.

I felt the same way. I felt that McEwan rushed through the ending and ended the book. I bought the book, but I never feel bad about that, because I feel that I am supporting the author. In this case, I am supporting the author in his London mansion!

Jane

[Marsha]

I agree with you Jane. We will never know if it would have worked, and neither will they.

[Maxine]

I think there are all kinds of weird things that go on in families that we don't really know. Has anyone read 'The Weight of Water'? there was kind of a hint of incest in that....but then the reader is never really told if it happened or not. It's kind of like life, and nobody really knows what goes on in families...even if you think you do, and then family members embellish and exaggerate. But there are definitely strange relationships and fathers being overly possessive of daughters. Sisters being possessive of brothers and any gal the brother tries to date.... that type of thing. I loved 'On Chesil Beach'. I actually read it at the beach, and it was the perfect length for me !

[Tiddimuelli]

got a question :) do you think that florence has actually been abused by her father?? i#m wondering about that because i'm writing a "facharbeit" about this book and it is quite important for the plot. so i need some opinions :))

[Greg]

I didn't pick up on Florence's issues being due to abuse from her father, and I'm not convinced of that interpretation, even after reading the thoughtful comments in this post (that I realize are five years old, now) The portion quoted above where she is sick on the boat could just as easily be a young girl feeling a need to connect, one on one, with her father and feeling like she's failing, which would be an innocent, and I feel just as possible, explanation for Florence's later issues fully connecting, one on one, with Edward. Someone above also mentioned that McEwan had at one point included a passage confirming Florence was abused by her father, but he took it out. If he took it out, it's not there anymore. That doesn't necessarily mean that it's still there just subtle. To me, it's a better book with it not in there, which might be why he took it out. With it not in there, subtle or otherwise, we're left feeling that Edward really did only have to call her name from the beach, and they would have not only had the wonderful shared life they both expected, they would have easily had it. Remember too, Florence did feel a stirring at being touched, and she wanted to feel that stirring again, at one point. My take was that their issues were a hair's width from being resolved, they just didn't, either of them, say quite the right thing, or quite the thing close enough to what was really on their minds, which gave the book a powerful ending, albeit an incredibly painful one.

[Lorrie]

I can see I missed the conversations about this book by about 6 years! Rats!! I really liked this book. I listened to the audio and, yes, Tiddimuelli & Greg, there was a suggested sexual abuse thing that happened with Florence's father. At the end of the audio, there is an interview with the author. He comments on this suggestion to abuse, and either he or the interviewer says that it's sad that the only one who knew about this abuse was Florence because she never had the chance to unload on Edward.

[Andrew]

I'll overlook Lorrie's six year delay, and raise her a week. I finished this last night: I've read Atonement many times, and when I spotted an Ian McEwan title in a charity shop I snapped it up. This is a beautiful novel and certainly a new joiner to my favourites list.

The ending took me by surprise in so many ways, and was utterly tragic and heart-breaking. There were so many tiny, little factors in the beach scene that Edward or Florence could have played differently - easily - and so changed (or not changed) the course of their lives. I related to that notion a great deal.

I stayed up way too late last night to finish the novel, then spent hours mulling over what just happened. One thing in particular struck me. I remembered a line from around the midpoint of the novel when the narrator, referring to Florence, tells us in relation to the wedding plans, "And she had known...just how much it was reasonable to expect her father to pay."

As the novel drew to a close, with the reference to the time her father (on a sailing trip the two of them took) was "moving about the dim, cramped cabin, undressing...", for me the penny dropped.

Florence clearly loved Edward, and vice versa. She clearly too dreaded the moment of penetration – but that never actually occurred. I think that was the only barrier her father had not crossed during their sailing trips (when she was frequently sea-sick, or perhaps just generally repulsed by him) or the business trip "treats" staying in the finest European Hotels.

“As far as Edward could tell, father and daughter rarely spoke” – yet they enjoyed so many intimate trips together? ‘Enjoyed’ is a probably a dubious word choice.

There is only a tiny amount of dialogue in the novel - the story is largely told by a third party narrator. And incest is something we don't talk about: so the narrator generously observes that taboo. However, the hints were there for the taking. Florence’s mother the pristine Oxford Don, her father the electronics entrepreneur – both entirely absorbed in their own lives. Their house was sterile – everything painted white – and there is absolutely no hint at any intimacy or love between her parents.

It was perhaps Florence’s mother who was “frigid” (I use that term only because the novel uses it) not Florence. Consequently did her father seek his satisfaction elsewhere?

There is discussion during the close of the novel of Edward’s feelings of ‘entitlement’ – he almost felt he was entitled to sex before marriage and certainly felt entitled after the ceremony. However, was the real issue Florence’s father’s feelings of entitlement? Her mother was only interested in her University lecturing, perhaps her mother was a lesbian in an age before lesbianism was understood or ‘invented’, therefore her father foisted his ‘entitlement’ upon Florence?

Incest and child abuse are a terrible reality. Almost any day you can read about it in the news, but think of all the hidden, untold stories nobody ever got to read about and never will. Particularly in an age (without internet, with few televisions, few telephones) when people knew a lot less about the things going on outside of their four walls, or their immediate locale. Child abuse was a taboo that was broken, but not speaking about it was a taboo that was strictly observed. Silence could be bought then.

Apologies for being explicit: when Edward ejaculated all over Florence (her chest, her chin, her leg, her thighs – so we’re told) I suspect she ran not because that itself disgusted her (it’s actually oddly comical, I’ve done it – we both laughed) but because it brought back the memories of her father doing the same in that cramped cabin and in those first class hotels.

“It crossed Edward’s mind, barely seriously, that he [Florence’s father] was rather too keen to give his daughter away”. Is this to rid him of the problem, rid him of the guilt, pass the buck? Contrast this with the references to Edward’s dreams of having a daughter with Florence that he could adore. Really, genuinely adore as his daughter. Not confusing ‘adore’ with ‘abuse’ as Florence’s father perhaps did?

“Her father’s wedding present was two thousand pounds.” N.B. not her parents’ present, but her father’s. £2000 in 1962 was a small fortune even for wealthy people – easily enough to buy a home outright. Is this her father trying to buy absolution? Like a Catholic buying an indulgence from Rome?

Edward delayed letting Florence meet his brain-damaged mother as long as he could – he was certain it would embarrass him. But when they met they got on wonderfully and Florence joined Marjorie in clipping up magazines in the garden. Was this because Marjorie was a kindred spirit for Florence – one woman permanently brain-damaged by a careless commuter she didn’t know, the other permanently emotionally-damaged by a father she never knew?

So, to go back to the first quotation I made from the novel - "And she had known...just how much it was reasonable to expect her father to pay" – I don’t think that idea was anything to do with money changing hands to pay for a wedding. And the bastard got away scot-free.

[dbemg]

I'm surprised no one has mentioned the possibility that Florence- not her mother- is a lesbian. That was my first thought when McEwan talks about how much she loved living at the ladies boarding house, and the way the other girls fussed over each other when one was sick etc.

Granted this could simply be Florence yearning for the maternal connection which is absent in her relationship with her mother. But combined with her revulsion towards penetration it seems to fit. Note that it isn't intimacy she has a problem with, but always penetration by men.

The sexual abuse angle does work slightly better imo (although the two aren't mutually exclusive) but it makes for a happier ending if you imagine that instead of being consumed by the destructive patterns of the abuse she suffered, Florence actually ended up shacked up with some woman- one of the girls from the quartet perhaps- and her unwritten future was actually spent in a happy and functional same sex relationship. We already know from her proposal to Edward that she had some pretty progressive ideas about relationships.

It's not likely that McEwan intended that reading but I think it sort of fits.. And it's certainly less bleak than the alternative!