![]() |
| Image credit: Wikipedia |
Ian McEwan is an author who specialises in dissecting and
magnifying the human complexities of his characters, which I think is what
makes his books compelling, popular, and perfect for film adaptations. Having
only read two of his novels previously I can’t call myself a fan, but I can appreciate
his craft and admire his talent for creating compelling and confronting character-driven
narratives. I have just closed the cover on his latest book, What We Can Know,
and while I don’t think it is a book for me, I certainly was intrigued by it.
Tom Metcalfe, a scholar at the University of the South Downs, spends his adult life poring over the archives of early 21st century
literature, captivated by the freedoms and possibilities of human life in, what
he deems, the Golden Age. His prime obsession: a legendary poem by Francis Blundy
read aloud during a dinner party in 2014, never published and never heard from
again. Over the years the poem has become a great myth and symbol of what has
been lost, but when Tom discovers a clue that may lead to the poem’s
resurrection, hope of finding this lost masterpiece is kindled. However, the
clue takes Tom on a journey of terrible discoveries about a world and people he
thought he knew so intimately.
What We Can Know primarily explores the idea, as well
as the dangers, of ‘Golden Age thinking’ mixed with that adage of ‘you should
never meet your heroes’. Set in a future where the physical world has taken on
new shapes thanks to climate change, war, and other human-related follies, it is
divided into two parts told by separate narrators. Part One is narrated by Tom
Metcalfe and it chronicles both the research and journey to find the lost poem,
with the famous ‘Second Immortal Dinner’ pieced together from journal entries
and emails, as well as the intimate relationship that Tom has with Francis
Blundy, his wife Vivien, and the other figures of his research. Part Two takes
us back in time with an intimate journal entry from Vivien Blundy that tells
the true story of that dinner, the poem, and what it meant.
McEwan is one of the most intimate writers that I have come
across. While events that are dramatic by nature do appear in his novels, they
are made more traumatic by their being character-driven and then internally
analysed by those characters. The physical events are nothing compared to the
emotional scrutiny and dissection that they are subjected to afterwards. What
We Can Know chronicles epic journeys of self-analysis, emotional paralysis,
metamorphosis, and destruction. Written plainly but with enough adverbs and
adjectives that do an impressive amount of heavy lifting, it’s an ingeniously deceptive
story that looks romantic, poetic, and exciting on the surface but is dark,
confronting, and nightmarish underneath. An olive in a dish of chocolate-coated
almonds, a seasoned doughnut where tyrannical cinnamon has overthrown the
sugar.
![]() |
| Image credit: Wikipedia |
It's complex, intensely voyeuristic, confronting, and rather difficult to talk about, as it is so provocative and churns up such a tsunami of thoughts that it’s impossible to sort through the wreckage. Fans of McEwan will be delighted, and dabblers will find an appreciation for the insane talent he has for putting the turbulent and terrible nature of humans into words.
Author: Ian McEwan, 2025
Published: Jonathan Cape, an imprint of Vintage; Penguin
Random House UK, 2025


No comments:
Post a Comment