Reading Ian McEwan can be compared to my individualised view of Christmas. I want to love it, and every so often I think, ooo I am really looking forward to Christmas this year, and then I confront the reality. It should be amazing, but mmmm actually it is a massive waste of money, and far too time consuming, and there is too much going on for such a short space of time to truly enjoy it. With the exception of ‘Atonement’, McEwan is always a disappointment to me, but when the front cover says ‘gripping’, ‘a triumph’, I feel like I should give him another go. There are flickers of brilliance, but it just never quite delivers. The middle aged male angst of ‘Enduring Love’ left me cold – I read Martin Amis’s ‘Money’ at a similar time and they both made me realise that no matter how well written something is, middle aged male British angst is of miniscule interest to me. McEwan has explored female angst in ‘The Children Act’, and unfortunately, this is just as unappealing.
‘The Children Act’ is about Fiona Maguire, a High Court Judge in the family courts. She is dealing with her disintegrating relationship with her husband, and her sense of loss in that she has never had children because she was too busy fighting for families in the High Courts. My biggest issue is that Fiona does not appear to have any real sense of gender. Even the childlessness was described with a detachment that belies the claim of her being ‘fiercely intelligent’ and ‘sensitive’. Her career got in the way and was more important than having kids – was the perfectly logical explanation for the childlessness – but what was missing was the utter grief that some women do feel about their childlessness in their latter years. Consequently, it was difficult to have any real empathy for her.
McEwan is often criticised for his one dimensional representation of women, and this is yet another example of it, but this issue also extends to her husband. He is yet another self absorbed bloke to add the long list of McEwan male creations. We discover he has lovely toenails, likes Jazz, is ‘suave’ and my personal favourite, on a couple of occasions we are told he combs his ‘greying chest hair’!!! Urgh, what self-respecting female high court judge would have sex with such a man ever again?
The Sing-along
Fiona’s professional dilemma is regarding Adam, a 17 year old Jehovah’s Witness, and whether he should be forced to have a blood transfusion to save his life. Was there really any dilemma here? Adam had learnt the violin in four weeks whilst in hospital, so clearly he was worth fighting for because he was a clever and culturally aware teenager. Playing on the X Box – Oh no, don’t save them! During the impromptu visit by Fiona, the High Court Judge, she sang along as he played his violin. On reflection, these scenes are hilarious, I couldn’t help but think of the scene in ‘Airplane’ where they play the guitar to the sick girl and rip out her drip. The link to music provides the thread throughout the novel, but it all becomes so tenuous and pretentious and so middle class it is actually laughable. I suspect this is not the response he was anticipating. The legal element was of relative interest, and didn’t overpower the novel, they were just a bit smug, and I felt a bit cheated, maybe because it could and should have been so much more engaging.
The use of the part setting of Newcastle was also a personal disappointment. As a Geordie, I recognised the Newcastle architecture, but he got nowhere near the true heart of being a Geordie, and the strength and integrity that is associated with this. This was a huge opportunity to inject some life into the novel that was totally missed. A rich vein McEwan could have pursued was the effect on deindustrialisation on Newcastle. This would have provided a far more engaging social link to the Newcastle element, and would have acted as a chronicle for the social history of the North. Although I doubt many Geordies will be learning the violin on the off chance they need to impress a High Court Judge.
The Perfect Christmas Present
The list of Christmas present she had bought her husband put a smile on my face – the chisel in the leather case was my personal favourite. Christmas must have been a laugh a minute at their house! No wonder he wanted out. Fiona didn’t have the time to have a child, but as a special present she would learn some music by heart and play it for her husband, Jack. On receiving this gift as an act of love he had ‘moist eyes’!! Ha ha. I have told my husband that I will be learning ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham by heart so I can play and sing for him on Christmas day as his special present. I can guarantee his eyes will be moist. So, here is my advice, don’t bother buying this novel as a Christmas present, learn a song and sing it with all your heart! It is cheap, but thoughtful, and if your angling for a separation this Christmas, it is the perfect gift….