by Julian Barnes
The Sense of an Ending is a rather dark yet agonisingly accurate portrayal of the impact of the past on the present, of our tendency to rose-tint painful memories as time passes and of the varying fortunes of adolescent males as they make their first tentative forays into the real world.
Barnes interweaves two stories, the core being an almost detective-like story of a group of school friends evolving from teenagers to adults, from which the main protagonist, the storyteller, and his erudite chum Adrian emerge as developed characters. The main point of the book, however, is the psychological journey undertaken by the storyteller in reaction to the events of the first story, and the coming together of both stories in an Agatha Christie-like ending which reveals the dire reality behind Adrian’s suicide and the dawning of truth on the storyteller, so as to provide the sense of both their endings.
The framework of an inner story enables Barnes to create distance in order to share the storyteller’s meanderings on themes such as memory and revisionism (“When we are young we invent different futures for ourselves. When we are old we invent a different past for others”), historical ‘truth’ (“History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation”) and our tendency to jump to conclusions. Things are not always what they appear to be, as Veronica so relentlessly drums into our non-hero, as the pieces of the puzzle fall reluctantly into place for him.
Do we identify with our storyteller? As a mixed-up young man with clear-cut ideas on life and parents until his first girlfriend undermines his tastes and his confidence, yes. As an older person whose life could hardly be called a success, somewhat less. And yet there is a deep fault of reliance on one’s memory and the recalled interpretation of past events that is essentially human. Add to that the final humility of remorse, and we see a profoundly human storyteller, laid bare by the real truth, who has the opportunity not given to all of us to see all sides of a story and to pierce the real truth of it all.
Marc Andries, the Belgian journalist turned writer, once wrote: ‘Verleden heb je, toekomst moet je maken’. (you have the past, but you must make your future). In ‘The Sense of an Ending’, Barnes warns us of judging the past too hastily, and challenges the reader to transform our understanding of the past into a better and hopefully more gracious future for us all.
CMD, 24th January 2013
Contributed by Craig
The Sense of an Ending is a rather dark yet agonisingly accurate portrayal of the impact of the past on the present, of our tendency to rose-tint painful memories as time passes and of the varying fortunes of adolescent males as they make their first tentative forays into the real world.
ReplyDeleteBarnes interweaves two stories, the core being an almost detective-like story of a group of school friends evolving from teenagers to adults, from which the main protagonist, the storyteller, and his erudite chum Adrian emerge as developed characters. The main point of the book, however, is the psychological journey undertaken by the storyteller in reaction to the events of the first story, and the coming together of both stories in an Agatha Christie-like ending which reveals the dire reality behind Adrian’s suicide and the dawning of truth on the storyteller, so as to provide the sense of both their endings.
The framework of an inner story enables Barnes to create distance in order to share the storyteller’s meanderings on themes such as memory and revisionism (“When we are young we invent different futures for ourselves. When we are old we invent a different past for others”), historical ‘truth’ (“History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation”) and our tendency to jump to conclusions. Things are not always what they appear to be, as Veronica so relentlessly drums into our non-hero, as the pieces of the puzzle fall reluctantly into place for him.
Do we identify with our storyteller? As a mixed-up young man with clear-cut ideas on life and parents until his first girlfriend undermines his tastes and his confidence, yes. As an older person whose life could hardly be called a success, somewhat less. And yet there is a deep fault of reliance on one’s memory and the recalled interpretation of past events that is essentially human. Add to that the final humility of remorse, and we see a profoundly human storyteller, laid bare by the real truth, who has the opportunity not given to all of us to see all sides of a story and to pierce the real truth of it all.
Marc Andries, the Belgian journalist turned writer, once wrote: ‘Verleden heb je, toekomst moet je maken’. (you have the past, but you must make your future). In ‘The Sense of an Ending’, Barnes warns us of judging the past too hastily, and challenges the reader to transform our understanding of the past into a better and hopefully more gracious future for us all.
CMD, 24th January 2013