Financial Times | The myth of the second chance

In the nov­els of Ian McE­wan, a pat­tern recurs. The main char­ac­ter makes a mis­take — just one — which then hangs over them forever. A girl misid­en­ti­fies a rap­ist, and in doing so shat­ters three lives, includ­ing her own ( Atone­ment). A man exchanges a linger­ing glance with another, who becomes a ten­a­cious stalker ( Endur­ing Love). A just-mar­ried couple fail to have sex, or rather have it badly, and aren’t them­selves again, either as indi­vidu­als or as a pair ( On Chesil Beach). Often, the mis­take rever­ber­ates over much of the 20th cen­tury. This plot trick is said to be unbe­com­ing of a ser­i­ous artist. McE­wan is accused of an obses­sion with incid­ent that isn’t true to the gradu­al­ism and untidi­ness of real life. Whereas Proust lux­uri­ates in the slow accre­tion of human exper­i­ence, McE­wan homes in on the sin­gu­lar event. It is too neat. It is writ­ten to be filmed. Well, I am old enough now to observe peers in their middle years, includ­ing some dis­ap

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• Katherine Driscoll
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