Date: 11 April 2011, 19:36
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This is the first of McEwan's mature novels, and easily one of his best. He goes well beyond the psycho-sexual darkness of his short stories and novellas into new philosophical territory. When it opens with the daughter of children's author Stephen Lewis being snatched from the local supermarket, you could be forgiven for thinking this novel is going to be about Stephen's obsessive, fruitless search for her and his inevitable psychological collapse. But Kate's disappearance is just the beginning. McEwan sidesteps the perils of family melodrama and rapidly escalates this into an intelligent and surprisingly moving novel about childhood, memory, growth, the horrors of conservative politics, and the joys of theoretical physics. McEwan's topic is time, and in addressing it from unexpected and seemingly disparate directions he demonstrates that a novel doesn't have to be an obvious, linear, plot-driven story. By the end, you realise you have in fact been told a wonderful story - one about Stephen's emotional adaptation - but that the novel is all the better because this has not been the explicit or only focus. In fact, all the pieces of this dazzlingly audacious philosophical puzzle slot perfectly into place in a final chapter which is as wonderfully unexpected as it is profoundly moving. McEwan's gift is for making the "big themes" real for us; for showing us how they're constantly moving, like continental plates, beneath the mundanity of our every day lives. He takes you places you don't expect to go. He assumes you're as intelligent as he is, and he gives you plenty to think about and plenty to do. When it works, as it does here, it's wonderful.
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