This week, the book blog books i done read reviewed an Ian McEwan book I've never heard of before – The Child In Time, which came out in 1987. I've read Atonement (which I loved) and On Chesil Beach (reviewed on this blog here). She calls it "a damn good read". From her review:
So, aside from the fairly mass-market-paperback milquetoast of a title and the heaps of deeper meaning that I only caught glimpses of as they whizzed by, The Child In Time was a gem. McEwan is flawless. I could read him for hours and hours, not because his prose is so ornate (how does mama feel about ornate prose, kiddies? That's right, she hates it. Now go mix her a mint julep), but because it's so incredibly seamless that I hardly notice it's there. The man is an artiste.
Stephen and Julie Lewis lose their only little slip of a daughter, Kate, to a child-snatcher. I can't even…I'm not going to think about that at all, but needless to say it TEARS THEIR MARRIAGE APART! And Stephen's life is blown to pieces and he sort of fumbles through things and maybe he pulls through in the end and everything's ok, and maybe this is the sort of book that you cap off with a bottle of wine and some serious thoughts of suicide (I'm looking at you, John Steinbeck). I'll never tell!
From Amazon:
A sense of loss pervades this fine, provocative new novel by the author of The Comfort of Strangers. The protagonist, Stephen Lewis, a successful author of children's books, is introduced to us in a scene more frightening than any from a horror novel: while he is shopping with Kate, his three-year-old daughter, the child is kidnapped. Stephen's mounting terror as he combs the store for Katetrying in vain to recall the face of the dark-clad stranger he glimpsed behind themis palpable. As the story moves forward, it focuses not only on Stephen's search for his daughter, but also on his attempts to come to terms with his loss and the likely collapse of his marriage to Julie, a musician. Woven through the narrative is a subplot that deals with childhood and loss of a different sort. It is the innocence of youth that Stephen's friend and former editor, Charles Darke, longs for and ultimately recaptures at a terrible price. This is a beautifully rendered, very disturbing novel.
I also came across this interview with McEwan about the half-brother he discovered in his 50s.
Has anyone out there read The Child in Time? Which is your favorite McEwan?