Primer amor, últimos ritos
Ian McEwan
Publicado: 1975 | 125 páginas
Relato Drama

En los ocho relatos de este libro, bajo las manipulaciones de McEwan, la depravación puede enmascararse de inocencia y las mariposas pueden resultar siniestras. Con igual fuerza puede mostrar cómo la vida de un niño puede ser arrastrada por lo macabro, o destilar las primeras sensaciones del primer amor, rastreando sus rituales iniciáticos, infundiéndoles una lujuriante imaginería sensual. Asociando lo insólito y la provocación, la ternura y un humor glacial, Ian McEwan nos revela la cara oculta de nuestros fantasmas y nos ofrece una visión diferente de nuestra vida cotidiana.

I have been reading Ian McEwan for years and enjoying the movies that have been made from his books. He does deal with challenging issues. I had never heard of this book. It turns out it was the first book he had published, but rather than a novel, it's a collection of short stories that had appeared in other forms previously. I'm not a big fan of the short story format. If there's a story there, I want more. That was not a problem here. For the most part, I had more than enough with each of these short stories.

This was a rare look at what McEwan was like before becoming one of the most important writers. These early stories dealt with topics that the more mature author avoids or at least doesn't dwell on topics that offend most readers. The first story has both incest and child abuse. The second features a hundred-year-old penis preserved in formaldehyde and people unable to communicate. The third features people unable to face reality. The fourth features lying, pedophilia, and murder. The next took us to prison. And then we got eels and a huge rat. The last involved people disappearing into costumes.

I'm really glad McEwan grew out of this stage. Feel free to skip it. ( )

Wow. What a messed up collection of stories. My scene. ( )

A collection of eight short stories, most of them pervaded with a sense, overt or subtle, of dark and twisted sexuality. Which isn't something I generally have a problem with. I mean, I remember kind of liking McEwan's The Comfort of Strangers, which was about nothing but dark and twisted sexuality. But some of the stories in this one? Hoo, boy. They left the inside of my brain feeling... dirty. And not in a good way.

Specifically, there are three stories, "Homemade," "Butterflies" and "Disguises," which -- and there's no way to sugarcoat this, so I'm just going to say it -- feature the sexual abuse, and, in one case, the subsequent murder, of children. The first two of those are told from the POV of the abusers, who are horrifically matter-of-fact about what they've done, and utterly, utterly incapable of anything resembling human empathy. Make no mistake, they're intended to be disturbing. But I kind of find myself wondering... Are these stories that capture the banality of evil effectively and well, disturbing readers in thought-provoking ways by drawing us in in a manner that makes us feel almost complicit in their horrors? Or is this just an author trotting out the ugliest taboo available for sheer shock value? Maybe it's both? In any case, I find myself genuinely sort of wishing I hadn't read them, and that's extremely rare for me.

The other stories are mostly less memorable, which, honestly, I'm not going to complain about. The exception is "Solid Geometry" which actually has a lot in common with the ones that bothered me so much, including a POV character who does awful things while feeling little more than vague annoyance. But that one doesn't involve children, at least. And there's an almost pleasantly strange fantasy element to it that makes it entertaining as much as it is uncomfortable. Which, now that I think about it, is also pretty messed-up, in its own way.

Rating: What the hell do I rate something like this, something that's extremely well-written and mostly does what it intends to do, but leaves me genuinely regretting having read it? I guess I'll call it 3/5, for lack of any better option. ( )

As noted, stories are my chosen path. These examples of eerie early McEwan are notable for structure and shock value, the promise of the latter does diminish the further one proceeds into the book. ( )