On Chesil Beach is a short book, a novella in four parts with a fifth part, a hurried epilogue driving the implicit moral home, that opens the evening of a couple’s honeymoon during a time in the 50s when some, perhaps many, might discuss much, but not sex. And some 200 short pages later the novel ends this same evening in a heart-rending moment that could have turned out differently, but doesn’t.
While the power of this novel lies in its exquisite exploration of the complex nature of love between two people, what may be most memorable for most readers, myself included, is the story’s focus on a single life-changing moment. That this singularity, this turning down a path not taken or too often taken, makes all the difference in the couple’s life is not new. The plot device of a prideful step taken with insufficient and incorrect information is as necessary for the tragedy of Oedipus as it is for our tragic involvement in Iraq. Yet McEwan manages such a new look at an essential conundrum — each of us in our lifetimes will make decisions we regret — that he may leave you wondering if this might be one of the best novels you’ve read in a long, long time.
