Cecily's Reviews > On Chesil Beach
On Chesil Beach
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Cecily's review
bookshelves: favourites, miscellaneous-fiction, historical-fict-20th-cent, sexuality-gender-lgbtqi, uk, film-tv-version-not-good
May 30, 2008
bookshelves: favourites, miscellaneous-fiction, historical-fict-20th-cent, sexuality-gender-lgbtqi, uk, film-tv-version-not-good
This deceptively light novella describes the events of Florence and Edward’s disastrous honeymoon night in 1962, interspersed with details of their childhoods and courtship to suggest how those influenced what happened.
(Update re film at the bottom...)
It is clinical and understated from the start: “The wedding... had gone well� and the “weather... not perfect but entirely adequate� and continues in the bedroom with detailed descriptions of physical sensations of skin, muscle, and even individual hairs: “stroking... for more than one and a half minutes� (too precise).
Florence is “incapable of rudeness�, Edward “polite to a fault� and both are virgins and unable to discuss intimate things (“There were no words to name what had happened, there existed no shared language.�), leading to misunderstandings, lost opportunities and unexpected consequences.
Edward is guided by duty.
Florence is guided by guilt (though not being religious, she can’t get absolution) and has a “visceral dread� of sex, realising that “sex with Edward could not be the summation of her joy, but was the price she must pay for it�.

Photo: On Chesil Beach, April 2016: sea in front (barely visible), lagoon behind.
Destiny
A major theme is destiny, which is perhaps the converse of missed opportunities. “They regarded themselves as too sophisticated to believe in destiny�, yet it was a belief in destiny that prompted Florence to form her quartet, and Florence and Edward inferred the hand of destiny in the extreme improbability of their meeting, plus Edward wants to study and write about how powerful individuals can change destiny.
Contrasts
They are very different: Florence is a classical musician from a privileged academic city background, lacking in confidence - except where music is concerned.
Edward is quiet but (in the past) occasionally explosive, a history graduate from a rural “squalid family home� with a brain damaged mother.
Both are used to leaving things unsaid: Florence is “adept at concealing her feelings from her family� and “lived in isolation within herself�, while Edward grew up in a family that colluded in his mother’s fantasy of a well-run household by not talking about it. He secretly chose a London university instead of nearby Oxford as part of “his sense of a concealed life�.
Music is often important in McEwan's works. Florence and Edward's musical tastes are fundamentally incompatible (though they try), yet for Florence music is her “path to pleasure�, rather than physical intimacy.
Although Edward’s family home was chaotic and somewhat repressed, it was loving. He enjoys the “exotic opulence� of Florence’s home, and although not a social climber, “his desire for Florence was inseparable from the setting�.
Florence was raised by nannies, and her mother is uninterested in her, tone deaf and “had barely ever touched her daughter�. Her relationship with her father is more subtle, but perhaps more troubling. Sometimes she found him “physically repellent� and sometimes she’d hug and kiss him, and loather herself for it. She even jokes about marrying him. Although “he never touched her... in Edward’s sight�, they were “intensely aware of each other� (he did hug her sister), and took overnight trips alone together, even sharing a room on the boat.
At times, Florence feels more like the parent or child of Edward, rather than his girlfriend or wife.
Ebb and Flow
There is plenty of see-sawing in the book: the ebb and flow of the sea on the stones of Chesil Beach; of desire; of who to blame for what goes wrong (both in the minds of the characters and the readers); and Florence’s feelings about her father, and whether or not she thinks there is something wrong with Edward or herself.
Nowadays
The story, and especially the ending, would be implausible nowadays, but fits the characters and the period.
My parents married at almost exactly the same ages, in almost the same year, and I can see many similarities in aspects of my mother's upbringing and attitudes and Florence's. I'm unsure whether she'd see that (or want to).
The fact that Edward “fell away from history to live snugly in the present� seems entirely appropriate.
It is a raw and painful book in places, all the more ironic given that it is set in the allegedly “swinging 60s�. There is additional irony in the fact that Florence takes Edward’s cherry � but only at dinner (an image oddly missing from the film).
Complimentary Novels
Two were written in the 60s, about the 60s, and feature a woman struggling with sexual intimacy, against the zeitgeist of the swinging 60s:
Margaret Drabble’s The Millstone (see my review HERE).
Lynne Reid Banks' The L Shaped Room (see my review HERE).
One of my two favourite books was written in the 60s, describing the life (and awful marriage) of a man born at the turn of the century, John Williams' exquisite Stoner (see my review HERE).
Also, Julian Barnes' 1986 novel, Staring at the Sun (see my review HERE), has similarly poignant anxiety about sex, though it takes a more humorous angle.
UPDATE re Film of 2018
The film was brilliant, beautiful, and mostly true to the spirit of my memory of the book (eight years earlier) - with one HUGE caveat.
The significant difference is that there was more afterstory than I remember. That didn't feel necessary, and in particular, the fact that in the film, Florence went on to (view spoiler) .
Florence's relationship with her father was still subtle (so much so, my husband, who hasn't read the book, was oblivious to its likely significance).
It stars the luminously vulnerable and always watchable Saoirse Ronan, who first rose to prominence in another McEwan adaptation, Atonement. The rest of the cast are good, too. See .
The dramatic views of Chesil Beach are perfect, avoiding the cliché of extreme weather, but having a vaguely brooding heaviness. You hear the crunch of the pebbles, underfoot, and as waves wash up and percolate down. The lagoon behind is still and silent. Florence and Edward are the only people in sight.
McEwan wrote the screenplay, so it's not surprising it's faithful. It certainly brought home the message that their wedding night conversations should have happened long before they married.
Go see it - but don't stay for the end!["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
(Update re film at the bottom...)
It is clinical and understated from the start: “The wedding... had gone well� and the “weather... not perfect but entirely adequate� and continues in the bedroom with detailed descriptions of physical sensations of skin, muscle, and even individual hairs: “stroking... for more than one and a half minutes� (too precise).
Florence is “incapable of rudeness�, Edward “polite to a fault� and both are virgins and unable to discuss intimate things (“There were no words to name what had happened, there existed no shared language.�), leading to misunderstandings, lost opportunities and unexpected consequences.
Edward is guided by duty.
Florence is guided by guilt (though not being religious, she can’t get absolution) and has a “visceral dread� of sex, realising that “sex with Edward could not be the summation of her joy, but was the price she must pay for it�.

Photo: On Chesil Beach, April 2016: sea in front (barely visible), lagoon behind.
Destiny
A major theme is destiny, which is perhaps the converse of missed opportunities. “They regarded themselves as too sophisticated to believe in destiny�, yet it was a belief in destiny that prompted Florence to form her quartet, and Florence and Edward inferred the hand of destiny in the extreme improbability of their meeting, plus Edward wants to study and write about how powerful individuals can change destiny.
Contrasts
They are very different: Florence is a classical musician from a privileged academic city background, lacking in confidence - except where music is concerned.
Edward is quiet but (in the past) occasionally explosive, a history graduate from a rural “squalid family home� with a brain damaged mother.
Both are used to leaving things unsaid: Florence is “adept at concealing her feelings from her family� and “lived in isolation within herself�, while Edward grew up in a family that colluded in his mother’s fantasy of a well-run household by not talking about it. He secretly chose a London university instead of nearby Oxford as part of “his sense of a concealed life�.
Music is often important in McEwan's works. Florence and Edward's musical tastes are fundamentally incompatible (though they try), yet for Florence music is her “path to pleasure�, rather than physical intimacy.
Although Edward’s family home was chaotic and somewhat repressed, it was loving. He enjoys the “exotic opulence� of Florence’s home, and although not a social climber, “his desire for Florence was inseparable from the setting�.
Florence was raised by nannies, and her mother is uninterested in her, tone deaf and “had barely ever touched her daughter�. Her relationship with her father is more subtle, but perhaps more troubling. Sometimes she found him “physically repellent� and sometimes she’d hug and kiss him, and loather herself for it. She even jokes about marrying him. Although “he never touched her... in Edward’s sight�, they were “intensely aware of each other� (he did hug her sister), and took overnight trips alone together, even sharing a room on the boat.
At times, Florence feels more like the parent or child of Edward, rather than his girlfriend or wife.
Ebb and Flow
There is plenty of see-sawing in the book: the ebb and flow of the sea on the stones of Chesil Beach; of desire; of who to blame for what goes wrong (both in the minds of the characters and the readers); and Florence’s feelings about her father, and whether or not she thinks there is something wrong with Edward or herself.
Nowadays
The story, and especially the ending, would be implausible nowadays, but fits the characters and the period.
My parents married at almost exactly the same ages, in almost the same year, and I can see many similarities in aspects of my mother's upbringing and attitudes and Florence's. I'm unsure whether she'd see that (or want to).
The fact that Edward “fell away from history to live snugly in the present� seems entirely appropriate.
It is a raw and painful book in places, all the more ironic given that it is set in the allegedly “swinging 60s�. There is additional irony in the fact that Florence takes Edward’s cherry � but only at dinner (an image oddly missing from the film).
Complimentary Novels
Two were written in the 60s, about the 60s, and feature a woman struggling with sexual intimacy, against the zeitgeist of the swinging 60s:
Margaret Drabble’s The Millstone (see my review HERE).
Lynne Reid Banks' The L Shaped Room (see my review HERE).
One of my two favourite books was written in the 60s, describing the life (and awful marriage) of a man born at the turn of the century, John Williams' exquisite Stoner (see my review HERE).
Also, Julian Barnes' 1986 novel, Staring at the Sun (see my review HERE), has similarly poignant anxiety about sex, though it takes a more humorous angle.
UPDATE re Film of 2018
The film was brilliant, beautiful, and mostly true to the spirit of my memory of the book (eight years earlier) - with one HUGE caveat.
The significant difference is that there was more afterstory than I remember. That didn't feel necessary, and in particular, the fact that in the film, Florence went on to (view spoiler) .
Florence's relationship with her father was still subtle (so much so, my husband, who hasn't read the book, was oblivious to its likely significance).
It stars the luminously vulnerable and always watchable Saoirse Ronan, who first rose to prominence in another McEwan adaptation, Atonement. The rest of the cast are good, too. See .
The dramatic views of Chesil Beach are perfect, avoiding the cliché of extreme weather, but having a vaguely brooding heaviness. You hear the crunch of the pebbles, underfoot, and as waves wash up and percolate down. The lagoon behind is still and silent. Florence and Edward are the only people in sight.
McEwan wrote the screenplay, so it's not surprising it's faithful. It certainly brought home the message that their wedding night conversations should have happened long before they married.
Go see it - but don't stay for the end!["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
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Reading Progress
May 30, 2008
– Shelved
June 9, 2008
– Shelved as:
favourites
Started Reading
January 9, 2010
– Shelved as:
miscellaneous-fiction
January 9, 2010
–
Finished Reading
July 14, 2015
– Shelved as:
historical-fict-20th-cent
March 4, 2021
– Shelved as:
sexuality-gender-lgbtqi
March 4, 2021
– Shelved as:
uk
April 22, 2023
– Shelved as:
film-tv-version-not-good
Comments Showing 1-50 of 61 (61 new)
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Michael
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rated it 4 stars
May 08, 2014 05:35AM

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Thanks. I guess it's not as twisted as many of his others, but it is perhaps sadder.


However, I have noticed several times where I saw a REALLY strong parallel between characters or situations in books or films, but the real-life equivalent couldn't see the connection at all, even after it was pointed out. They weren't such extreme scenarios that they'd have a need to repress it totally, and yet there was a degree of disconnect. Either that, or I was projecting where I should not.
Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you find it a moving and worthwhile experience.


I think it's good for the novel that Edward doesn't take up the offer: it would have sensationalised a book that is notable for being low key.



I don't quite remember the sixties - but not for the exciting reasons - so I was just going on reputation (hence "allegedly").




Can't you borrow it, or buy a second-hand copy?
Failing that, you'll just have to go without food for a week or two. Sorry about that.

Can't you borrow it, or buy a second-hand copy?
Failing that, you'll just have to go without food for a week or two. Sorry..."
Glad to know you are on the side of The Force, and that you are not Darth-Cecily in your spare time ;)


Thanks, Gisela. Many of my favourites - including Stoner - were books I came to via a similar route. :)

*Oh sorry, I see that you already have! I shall leave in the link, though, for others.

So the period rings true for you?
(No worries about the link. Your review is well worth linking to.)

My own father was certainly his equal by birth if not by circumstance. He and my mother both gave up their professions to go into evangelical work. I recall only one piece of sexual advice from him: "My own father would have said that you should not take a girl's hand unless you are prepared to marry her." His tone of voice implied that he personally wouldn't put it quite so strictly, but as he never gave me the New Testament to replace this Old, it meant that, though ostensibly mocking it, his father's rule was still the rule I lived by. You can hardly imagine a better way of inhibiting a young guy's sex life, or of confusing him once that inhibition had worn off!
And very much in tune with the world McEwan describes, no? R.

"an ex-brigadier turned merchant banker with a Cezanne over the fireplace" - I can picture him now. No wonder he made you feel, doubtless incorrectly, that you weren't good enough for his daughter.
I hadn't realised your own upbringing was quite so religious. Living in the US now must bring back memories in some ways.
As for the only sexual advice your father gave you, it's more than my own mother gave me! However, a few days before I got married, she asked, rhetorically, if there was anything I needed to know about intimate matters - and breathed a huge sight of relief when I said not.


Ha! That was my tactic, aged about eight, when I wanted to know about such things but knew my mother wouldn't want to discuss it. I had some book tokens for Christmas, so I feigned a general interest in biology and picked the book that best described and illustrated the human body: how it is created, delivered, develops etc. I still have that book! I'm now wondering if I should review it.
As to your key question, we'll never be sure, as you say.

I enjoyed two of the others you mention (the first two).

Maybe you were just in the wrong mood when you read it? As you say, not much happens. But for me, that didn't matter - in fact, it was a strength.

Thanks for your passionate review..."
I'm curious, too! Thanks, Elyse.


I hope, rhetorically, that you found happier resolution than Florence and Edward, and indeed, my own parents.
Roger wrote: "I suspect that reading it with that degree of identification is an experience not to be repeated...."
I'm more intrigued that you DID identify. I've more often found that friends of family see parallels that person themselves does not.


I've explained this a bit in my review, which you've probably seen. I know my attitudes guided me into a foolish engagement (as in: if you have sex, you must get married) until her parents intervened, and probably affected my first marriage, for which I must take a lot of the blame. But I have more than made up for that in my second one, of 40 years! R.

Thanks for the pointer, Fergus. Much as I think this a brilliant book, I wouldn't call it fun.

I remember your review well (I was the first to comment on it). You make the parallels clear. My surprise was more that you recognised (and shared) them. In my limited experience, people are often reluctant to see themselves in novels - unless as a perfect hero.
I'm glad you've made up for youthful errors in the last 40 years. There's a lesson, and maybe a novel in that!

A propos, did you see the British TV version of “The Child in Time,� which showed recently over here? I thought it was superb, and a timely reminder that even McEwan’s second-tier books are the work of a master. R.

If there are, I'm not sure I want to read them!
Roger wrote: "did you see the British TV version...."
Now you mention it, and having looked at stills on imdb, I don't think I have. I really should. Thanks for the reassurance it's worth it.


Thanks, Jaline. I think it's invariably better to read the book before seeing the film, but on the other hand, the two are very similar, and it's not as if there's a hugely complex plot that might be hard to follow when cut down to a film.

Thanks, Bishop. As is yours. If you haven't seen the film, I recommend it - with the caveat about the new ending.


Thank you very much. It's a stunning and rather unsettling place, so perfect for the story.


It is very odd, especially when it was McEwan himself who did the screenplay. What was he thinking? Has he changed his mind about everything about Florence, or had he always thought that, but been annoyed that readers didn't realise?

Hmmm, interesting things to ponder, and now as I am doing so, I just remembered knowing someone like Florence in more than one respect, though (view spoiler) .