The Comfort of Strangers

This is McEwan's second novel, written almost thirty years ago. There are the recognizable traits there: the sparse, elegant, language; the almost scientific approach to storytelling; the disturbing plot. I felt immediately drawn in solely by the language, it was so beautifully written.

The story is about Colin and Mary, a British couple, unmarried and not living together, which is pointed out more than once, on vacation in Venice. (I was intrigued by how he made us understand this was set in Venice without telling us or even mentioning any particular sites or unique traits, i.e. gondole.)Bored and completely out of it one night, they get a late start going out to dinner, get lost, and run into a strange and aggressive local named Robert, who practically forces them to come to a nearby bar to get some sustenance. There, he proceeds to tell them his life story, about his abusive father and vengeful sisters. Nothing further strange happens, but there are two further meetings, seemingly by chance, that get stranger, and with each meeting you keep expecting something bad to happen. Eventually something does, and we learn that the chance meetings may not have been chance meetings. That what occurs was actually immaculately planned. But like the police say at the end, these people are a mix of the careful and the sloppy. I was left wondering whether or not the events could have been avoided. Or were Colin and Mary led to the gruesome conclusion subconsciously. The role of male/female relationships, especially as it relates to male against female violence plays a role in the psychological aspects of this thriller.

McEwan is a master of suspense and psychological thrillers, and though this is an early work, his later mastery is strongly hinted at. I loved the writing, psychologically cold but lyrically beautiful. At the same time, there were long parts involving Colin and Mary that were boring. Presumably McEwan gave us detailed glimpses into their interactions to show us why they were inexorably drawn to Robert, and later his wife Caroline. While the physical force of Robert is undeniable, it seems at the end Colin and Mary walked willfully to their own fates, and that certainly needed some explaining, which we seemingly get with Mary's overt feminism and Colin's condescending tolerance of it. The novel was short already, but might have worked just as well as a short story. Still, it was a worthwhile read as a glimpse into the master McEwan would become.

I've just finished reading this book by Ian McEwan. It was a bit slow to begin with, but by the middle of the book, I couldn't put it down. It is, of course, a very short novel, so reading it will go very quickly. I found that the subject matter was a bit strange, and the characters that Mary and Colin meet on vacation are not what they seem to be at first. Very suspenseful, and erotic tale written by a gifted writer.

Building to a quietly shocking denouement in this short novel that packs more emotional punch in 127 pages than most fleshed out books, McEwan demonstrates in The Comfort of Strangers that he has mastered the craft of writing. Atmospheric and incredibly controlled and tense, the narration mirrors the heavy claustrophobia of a couple vacationing, a crowded feeling exacerbated by the passages describing the sun and the water. The psychological awareness utilized by the author is at its best - he deftly shows the inner workings of personal relationships while at the same time allowing foreshadowing and ominous imagery to simmer beneath the surface of the story. It is while waiting for this sense of unease to manifest itself that is most thrilling, and the numbness which one will feel at the conclusion echoes what the protagonists themselves feel as well.

I wish the ratings went up to 10. I'd give this book a 4.5 if I could. McEwan is so dark but so good. The only thing darker than this book is Black Dogs, or maybe Enduring Love or Atonement. I think that's the order of darkness I'd rank them. Oh and then Chesil Beach. McIwan is the current master of the long short story.

Thomas Mann may not have been the first to perceive the sinister side of Venice behind its grandeur, but his DEATH IN VENICE is iconic. More recently, there is the Nicholas Roeg movie DON'T LOOK NOW, and the Daphne du Maurier story on which it was based. Ian McEwan does not actually name Venice as the setting of his 1981 novella THE COMFORT OF STRANGERS, but its more familiar landmarks are easily recognizable. But the anonymity will feel absolutely right to anybody who has got lost in the city and ended up in some shuttered street or on a deserted quay facing a gray lagoon. Much of McEwan's book takes place in such surroundings; it is built on disorientation.

In some ways, it is pendant to his 2007 novella, ON CHESIL BEACH. Both books are of similar length; both begin with a man and a woman in a hotel bedroom; and in both, the outcome of their relationship is virtually the sole subject. Colin and Mary, the couple here, differ from their later counterparts in that they have been lovers for some years, although they appear to be having difficulties as the novel begins. Losing their way in the city at night, after most restaurants have closed, they meet a stranger, Robert, who takes them to a bar and is soon spinning family secrets. Later, he entertains them at his apartment and introduces them to his Canadian wife. The first result of these encounters is to enhance Colin and Mary's love-making, but matters escalate from there to a devastating conclusion. Readers familiar with McEwan's penchant for grand guignol, especially in his earlier books, may not be surprised by the twists in the story. Others may be drawn into his examination of erotic ambiguity and gender identity. For me, however, the main interest came in the period after these first meetings, when Colin and Mary are once more alone, the subtle shifts in their relationship reflected in the settings of the city itself, busy or blank, but always alienating.

This may not be one of McEwan's major works -- the plot development is a little too arbitrary for that -- but it is beautifully done.