The Sense of an Ending

The Sense of an Ending. Wow. Talk about a proper novel.
As I wrote in my previous post, I'd already seen the film about a year ago, which made me want to read the novel (also, it is a Man Booker winner). The story is about this old guy doddering through life, remembering his school days and a girlfriend he had during uni, while have an weirdly warm platonic relationship with his ex-wife and basically being ignored by his very pregnant daughter. During the course of the film, we discover that his memories aren't exactly honest, but you never find out whether he censured himself intentionally, or whether he was just forgetful.

The novel, on which the film is of course based, so I've been watching/reading the wrong way around, has basically the same plot, with the exception that it is written in chronological order (and his daughter has a husband and two kids, instead of doing the pregnant-soon-to-be-single-mom thing). The first part is about his school days, uni days, and the rest of his life until retirement, and the second part takes place during his old age, as he comes to terms with things. The fun thing about watching the film first is that you have a strong mental image of the characters; in my mind, the main character still was Jim Broadbent, talking in that high, whiny voice (I am a great fan of Jim Broadbent, by the way). The not-so-fun thing is that you already know the plot twist at the end. Although it still hit me, strangely. Maybe because the protagonist finally realises how much he has been deceiving himself ("You don't get it, but then you never did", as his former girlfriend keeps telling him), and how much his world has come undone around him, at which point the novel is suddenly all over and it feels like the blow to the head he must have felt coming to that realisation. Still having a reaction to a surprise ending you already know must be one of the characteristics of good literature.
Because that is what this novel is; proper literature. It is a novel you can pull out each year, read again, and still find new bits in it. I've taken pictures of several paragraphs, as I do with all great texts I want to remember later on. In these paragraphs, hidden between his other thoughts and actions, the main character muses on life, on the influence of the past on who we are, on memories, on character. All bits you can reread and spend the rest of the evening thinking about, or discussing with friends. A novel that makes you think, makes you reevaluate life, in only 163 pages.
Also, it isn't really about the plot, or about the ending. It is about a guy, thinking about life. Ironically, of course, the one thing he doesn't think about is himself, and the influence he has on other people (unless he tries to get them to do something for him). Which is exactly what he should be thinking about, but being the classic literary fool, he doesn't realise until it is too late. Too caught up in his own greatness, his own self image. He is a classic unreliable narrator, and having seen the film (in which you see other characters' reactions to him close up) I was prepared for this, but still you are swept along in his way of thinking, until somehow something doesn't quite fit, and you can see the strands of his stories come undone before he realises.
Read this novel, is all I can say. It will stay with you for a long time.