The Comfort of Strangers by Ian McEwan

Colin and Mary are lovers on holiday in Italy, their relationship becoming increasingly problematic as they become increasingly alienated from one and other. They move from place to place in this foreign land but seemingly without aim or purpose and more, seemingly bored and without attachment.

Then they meet a man named Robert and his wife, Caroline, who is crippled. Colin and Mary seem happy for the diversion--happy to meet another couple that takes the focus of off them (off of each other) for a while. Things become strange (and stranger yet; one could say horrific) when they attempt to leave: Robert and Caroline insist that they stay with them for a while longer.

While Mary and Colin indeed rediscover each other in ways during this time--an erotic attraction to each other that was below the surface--they also find that their relationship/friendship with Robert and Caroline takes turns that are likewise erotic and violent in nature. A pervasive dread runs through this novel, leading to the terrible climax that no reader could predict. Absolutely in the key of McEwan, without match in the genre, and a very worthwhile read.

I just did not “get” this book. This is the second book by Ian McEwan that I've read, (or attempted to read) and I was flummoxed. :-) A married couple, Colin and Mary, is vacationing in an area/island/country (??) unfamiliar to them where they don't speak the language. The two of them are kind of losing their attraction/love for each other and tension is high. They get lost and a threatening man basically stalks them, then attaches himself to them by offering to help and as a resource for getting around. The man (Robert) gradually acts more and more aggressive towards Colin and flirtatious with Mary.

For reasons beyond me, Colin & Mary go to Robert's place, meet his friendly yet odd wife, Caroline, and then are not “allowed” to leave. As the couple plots ways to escape, they seem to rekindle their relationship. The whole situation with Colin and Mary in Robert's building reminds me of a horrific nightmare–not because of graphic images, but just the aura of impending violence and FEAR that shrouds the whole setting. I suppose that was the author's intent–“normal” masking the reality of fear/violence.

Colin & Mary fall in love again after escaping, but their newfound attraction plays out in graphic fantasies of sexual violence, bondage, helplessness, etc. Disturbing to say the least. The couple eventually returns to Robert & Caroline's “house of horror”, on the pretext of rescuing Caroline and solving a mystery, and it doesn't end well. I'm still kind of befuddled by what actually happened.

I will say that Ian McEwan is skilled at writing description and dialogue that seems to just flow right out of his characters' thoughts and experiences. At one minute you are amazed at how exact he is with the flow of thoughts in people's heads, then you're shocked by some utterly surprising or repulsive idea that follows.

I guess I will say that I didn't “like” this book, but it's a book that won't leave my thoughts any time soon.

Every time I approach an Ian McEwan review—all but the first time, I guess—I feel some dread. McEwan is an author who garners such strong opinions, good and bad. Some think he is a hack writer, overly elaborate with his prose and plots, offensive to say the least. Others think he has incredible talent, that his stories brim with the kind of details that bring them to life. There's probably truth in both arguments, though in the end they're just opinions. Whatever the general views of McEwan and his stories, reviews of McEwan's work can lead to excessive raising of the eyebrows, eye rolling, and unfriending (though I could be exaggerating).

I throw myself in with those enamored with McEwan. That's not to say I love everything he's written, but I do find myself always thoroughly entertained. Having read some of McEwan's most popular and highly acclaimed works, I've made it a point to read the author's earliest books and work my way through his career. If you've read my reviews of McEwan's first two books, First Love, Last Rites or The Cement Garden, you probably know that old McEwan had a distinctly macabre style once upon a time. In fact, his earliest works remind me considerably of the kinds of stories Stephen King might have written.

The Comfort of Strangers, McEwan's second novel, continues this King comparison, but also shows a break from it. It's not as dark as his earlier efforts, but depravity is still present. The primary difference is that The Comfort of Strangers shows more of McEwan's elaborate style. There was a hint of the literary in McEwan's first books, but here it's strong. The descriptions in The Comfort of Strangers really evoke the setting, pulling the reader in. Even when the story began to disappoint, which it did for me, I wanted to keep reading. Even when I myself began to roll my eyes and recognize the signature overwrought plot, I was so engaged that I couldn't pull away. McEwan is guilty in this one of forcing the characters into the story. It is evident that they have no other path than the one the author makes for them. There's not even an illusion that they have free will. So, in the end, I was disappointed with this story, but there was never a moment I wasn't entertained. And that's something.