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rbtanger: I know that the Library Thing Recommendations aren't always completely spot-on, but I just want to say that if I were writing the recommend list, The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood would be top of the list. These books have so many similarities that it's hard to count them all.… (plus d'informations)
browner56: Two superbly crafted explorations of the cathartic power that comes from the act of writing.
jordantaylor: Both books begin with a young girl witnessing a crime of sorts that will powerfully affect her own life and the lives of her family members. Both books also are set in England during World War II.
BookshelfMonstrosity: These character-driven literary novels set in 20th-century England offer haunting, reflective narratives of secrets, shame and guilt. In each, children make decisions or perform actions that have unintended, tragic consequences and lasting repercussions.… (plus d'informations)
BookshelfMonstrosity: Atonement, like Rules of Civility, paints a picture of events that instantly turn characters' worlds upside down. Also set in the 1930s, it highlights the lingering opulence of the age and how that can disappear amid tragedy.
> Par Courrier Expat : Royaume-Uni : Expiation, de Ian McEwan 27/03/2018 ... “Publié en 2001, ce livre est un tour de force littéraire qui dépeint trois périodes différentes : l’Angleterre de 1935, la Seconde Guerre mondiale et le tournant des années 2000”, explique l’ambassadeur Kim Darroch dans les pages de Condé Nast Traveler. On y suit les aventures de Briony, qui n’a que 13 ans en 1935. La fillette va dire un mensonge qui aura d’énormes conséquences sur la vie des gens qu’elle aime. Pour Kim Darroch, cette fiction “capture à la perfection le passé récent de la Grande-Bretagne”. ____________________ Source : Condé Nast Traveler | New York | www.cntraveler.com/
Très bon livre. Le roman aboutit à un final magnifique, qui donne tout d'un coup une relecture des pages précédentes et correspond comme un écho aux réflexions de Briony sur l'écriture d'une fiction dans les premières pages du roman. Le roman boucle sur lui-même et comme une mise en abîme on comprend que nous lisons le roman d'un roman. L'écrivain comme un Dieu peut modifier l'histoire à volonté, mais malgré tout la réalité perdure la guerre et ses horreurs et la magnifique beauté de la nature, la médiocrité, la lâcheté de certain et la grandeur d'âme, le courage des autres. Mais a trop vouloir mener de front toutes ces interrogations et réflexions, Ian McEwan en a perdu en intensité. Force et intensité qu'il arrive à tenir en début de roman et y revenir dans la dernière partie. Néanmoins un très beau roman, qui m'a un peu moins impressionné que Samedi du même auteur. "... un conte, c'était une forme de télépathie. par le biais de symboles tracés à l'encre sur une page, elle était capacble de faire passer réflexions et sentiments de son esprit à celui du lecteur. C'était un processus magique, tellement banal que personne ne s'en étonnait plus. Lire une phrase et la comprendre revenait au même..." (p58) "... comment un écrivain peut-il se racheter, alors que doué du pouvoir absolu de décider de la fin, il est également Dieu? Il n'a personne, ni entité ni forme supérieure à qui en appeler, avec qui se réconcilier ou qui puisse lui pardonner. il n'existe rien en dehors de lui. En imagination, il a fixé les limites et les termes. Pas d'expiation pour Dieu ni piur les écrivains, même s'ils sont athées. Cela a toujours été une tâche impossible, et là résidait justement l'intérêt. L'entreprendre, voilà l'enjeu." (p487) ( )
Un des personnages se révèle être l’auteur (et enjoliveur) de l’histoire, ce qui permet plusieurs versions de la même scène. N'est-ce pas le propre de la vie? On s’étonne en outre devant la faculté de McEwan à reproduire si justement des voix féminines. ( )
Livre brillant, dont le sujet principal finalement se trouve être l'écriture, le pouvoir de l'écriture et de l'imagination. La quatrième et dernière partie donne une dimension totalement différente aux trois précédentes, mais je ne devrais pas en dire plus sous peine de *spoiler*. ( )
McEwan is technically at the height of his powers, and can do more or less anything he likes with the novel form. He shows this fact off in the first section of Atonement, in which he does one of the hardest things a good writer can do: engrossingly, sustainedly, and convincingly impersonate a bad one.
McEwan is crafty. Even as he shows us the damages of story-telling, he demonstrates its beguilements on every page. Atonement is full of timeworn literary contrivances--an English country house, lovers from different classes, an intercepted letter--rendered with the delicately crafted understanding of E.M. Forster.
If it's plot, suspense and a Bergsonian sensitivity to the intricacies of individual consciousnesses you want, then McEwan is your man and ''Atonement'' your novel. It is his most complete and compassionate work to date.
Ian McEwan's remarkable new novel ''Atonement'' is a love story, a war story and a story about the destructive powers of the imagination. It is also a novel that takes all of the author's perennial themes -- dealing with the hazards of innocence, the hold of time past over time present and the intrusion of evil into ordinary lives -- and orchestrates them into a symphonic work that is every bit as affecting as it is gripping. It is, in short, a tour de force.
Ian McEwan’s new novel, which strikes me as easily his finest, has a frame that is properly hinged and jointed and apt for the conduct of the ‘march of action’, which James described as ‘the only thing that really, for me at least, will produire L’OEUVRE’.
Dear Miss Morland, consider the dreadful nature of the suspicions you have entertained. What have you been judging from? Remember the country and the age in which we live. Remember that we are English: that we are Christian. Consult your own observation of what is passing around you. Does our education prepare us for such atrocities? Do our laws connive at them? Could they be perpetrated without being known in a country like this, where social and literary intercourse is on such a footing, where every man is surrounded by a neighbourhood of voluntary spies, where roads and newspapers lay everything open? Dearest Miss Morland, what ideas have you been admitting? They had reached the end of the gallery; and with tears of shame she ran off to her own room.
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Premiers mots
The play - for which Briony had designed the posters, programs and tickets, constructed the sales booth out of a folding screen tipped on its side, and lined the collection box in red crêpe paper - was written by her in a two-day tempest of composition, causing her to miss a breakfast and a lunch.
Citations
Informations provenant du Partage des connaissances anglais.Modifiez pour passer à votre langue.
Novels and movies, being relentlessly modern, propel you forwards or backwards through time, through days, years or even generations. But to do its noticing and judging, poetry balances itself on the pinprick of the moment. Slowing down, stopping yourself completely, to read and understand a poem is like trying to acquire an old-fashioned skill like drystone walling or trout tickling.
How much growing up do you need to do?
It wasn’t only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.
A person is, among all else, a material thing, easily torn and not easily mended.
Find you, love you, marry you, and live without shame.
Finally he spoke the three simple words that no amount of bad art or bad faith can ever quite cheapen. She repeated them, with exactly the same slight emphasis on the second word, as though she were the one to say them first. He had no religious belief, but it was impossible not to think of an invisible presence or witness in the room, and that these words spoken aloud were like signatures on an unseen contract.
The anticipation and dread he felt at seeing her was also a kind of sensual pleasure, and surrounding it, like an embrace, was a general elation--it might hurt, it was horribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but he had found out for himself what it was to be in love, and it thrilled him.
(p313) For all the fine rhythms and nice observations, nothing much happens after a beginning that has such promise.
(p349) She was calm as she considered what she had to do. Together, the note to her parents and the formal statement would take no time at all. Then she would be free for the rest of the day. She knew what was required of her. Not simply a letter, but a new draft, an atonement, and she was ready to begin.
BT London 1999
(p371) The problem these fifty-nine years has ben this: how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no-one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms. No atonement for God, or novelists, even if they are atheists. It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all.
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Google Books — Chargement...
Ian McEwan
13
27/03/2018 ... “Publié en 2001, ce livre est un tour de force littéraire qui dépeint trois périodes différentes : l’Angleterre de 1935, la Seconde Guerre mondiale et le tournant des années 2000”, explique l’ambassadeur Kim Darroch dans les pages de Condé Nast Traveler. On y suit les aventures de Briony, qui n’a que 13 ans en 1935. La fillette va dire un mensonge qui aura d’énormes conséquences sur la vie des gens qu’elle aime. Pour Kim Darroch, cette fiction “capture à la perfection le passé récent de la Grande-Bretagne”.
____________________
Source : Condé Nast Traveler | New York | www.cntraveler.com/