[25th book of 2021. No artist for this review, nothing occurred to me or made an impression.]
Near my house is a road that snakes off from the long and smooth tarmac of Queen Street. The change from Q. Street to this road is quite remarkable, being so sudden. The houses are all the same dirty white; there are bits of wood, tiles, tarpaulins and chunks of rubble in gardens and by the side of the road; the cars are all in the same state of disrepair, with taped bodies, sagging bumpers and flat tyres. One of the houses has a large garden that holds a tired and broken swing-set, an old trampoline and a slide that I've never seen upright. Amidst this pocket is a house with a gazebo outside, postered walls and leaflet boxes. I try and avoid the house as it usually puts me in a bad mood. The posters say things like "The Con-You Virus" or "Masks Won't Save You, But Jesus Will"; I have nothing against Christianity of course, only their perception of it. Their blind ignorance and, seemingly, lack of true Christian values reminded me of Jed Parry in this novel.
This is my 9th McEwan novel, which is quite a lot for an author I don't particularly like. I've told the story many times: my ex-housemate and I split his novels in half to read half each, because neither of us liked him. Why? Good question. Either way, halfway was 8 novels each; I've read my 8 and yet here I am still. I think part of us wanted to, 1. see if McEwan had any good novels and 2. have the right to argue our distaste for him by having read, at least between us, all his books. And yet, finishing my 8, I realised I hadn't read his two famous ones: Atonement and this. We are in the midst of McEwan March, which we did last year, where we try and read at least 2 of his books in this month. I'll get to Atonement before the month is out.
Enduring Love begins with a rather unique accident—a hot air balloon disaster. It's well written and gets the novel off to a compelling start. Narrator Joe Rose and his girlfriend Clarissa Mellon are present, as is Jed Parry, and others. This deadly accident they witness—have a part in?—brings Jed Parry and Joe Rose's lives together. The former is a stalker. He rings him. He waits outside his house. He follows him. This element of the plot was fairly interesting and Parry is well-written, his voice, his letters, they are disturbing and oddly believable.
Sadly, the rest of the novel is orbiting this. McEwan, as I've found, likes science. He also likes cramming science in wherever he can. A simple scene is derailed by scientific thought, scientific jargon, scientific history. His characters' think about science. I thought that in this novel it would make more sense: Joe Rose attempts to "identify", using science, why Jed Parry is obsessed with him. It has a part in the novel but it's so poorly executed. Then again, this is perhaps down to personal taste. I have zero interest in science and hate to read it because it bores me. Maybe McEwan writes brilliant novels to someone who loves reading and science in equal part.
On top of the science spiels, the plot also unwinds further from reality as it progresses, which is another McEwan trait I've found. The hot air balloon accident is unusual but not completely fantastical, but slowly things begin happening, the "drama" increases and I began losing interest. The "psychological novel" it was attempting to be was eventually dropped in favour of an action-packed end. I'm not surprised it was made into a movie, because removing all the internal science thought, it is a "good" story, I guess. Apparently the movie isn't great though. I was surprised to see Daniel Craig as Joe Rose, the apparently unattractive (by his own standards) science nerd.
Next up is Atonement, then I've read most of them. The only novels I haven't read after that are:
The Comfort of Strangers, Saturday, Sweet Tooth, The Children Act, Nutshell (which I may read, as said friend didn't hate it, surprisingly), and Cockroach (which looks so awful I might read it).
Of all the McEwan novels still only two have impressed me properly: The Child in Time and Black Dogs. Ironically, I've seen these two novels stamped on by McEwan fans.