3.5 stars

just a really flat book

«Ο παρών χρόνος και ο παρελθών χρόνος
είναι ίσως και οι δύο παρόντες στο μέλλοντα χρόνο
και ο μέλλων χρόνος να περιέχεται στον παρελθόντα χρόνο».
Τ.Σ Έλιοτ.

Ήταν μια πρώτη επαφή γνωριμίας, ένα πρώτο επιφυλακτικό, αναγνωστικό ραντεβού με τον
Ίαν ΜακΓιούαν και δηλώνω επιεικώς ενθουσιασμένη.

Με κάθε χτύπημα της πένας του με απορροφούσε
και με γκρεμοτσάκιζε απο τα υπέροχα ύψη της πλαστικής ουτοπίας, στα βάθη της καταραμένης δυστοπίας, λίγο πριν με ξεγελάσει με μια αμφίβολη ευτοπία.
Μου χάριζε λόγια, αναλύσεις, προβληματισμούς, ιδέες, διάφορα μέσα, συναισθήματα πολύ έντονα, λυπημένα, ενθουσιασμένα, απαισιόδοξα, χαρούμενα, αγανακτισμένα, μετριοπαθή, δυναμικά.
Όλα αυτά που προσπάθησε να μου δώσει φυσικά και έχουν ειπωθεί και γραφτεί σε άπειρους συγγραφικούς και καλλιτεχνικούς χωροχρόνους.
Όμως εκείνος, πήρε τους πιο μεγάλους φόβους του ανθρώπινου είδους και μπήκε σε ένα ξέφρενο κυνήγι σκέψης, στην αναζήτηση της κρυμμένης ουσίας με επιδεξιότητα, σαφήνεια και πολυεπίπεδο όραμα.

Το «χαμένο παιδί» του τίτλου δεν είναι ένα άτομο, μια τρομακτική συλλογή καταστάσεων για ένα παιδάκι που εξαφανίζεται απο την ζωή αυτών που γέννησαν τη δική του ζωή,κάπου, κάποτε.

Δεν ειναι απλώς αυτός ο καταραμένος χωροχρόνος
με μηδενική, ατελείωτη, ίσως μη μετρήσιμη διάρκεια, για ένα παιδί που εξαφανίζεται. Ούτε γι’αυτούς που θα περιμένουν την επιστροφή του μέχρι να λιώσει η ψυχή τους.

Το «χαμένο παιδί» είναι πολλά άτομα, είναι παραλληλισμοί μεταξύ παιδικής ηλικίας και ενηλικίωσης.
Λογική και τρέλα που απεικονίζονται μέσα
απο μια σειρά παιδικών στιγμών, τόσο κυριολεκτικών όσο και μεταφορικών, εικονικών, εμμονικών,
κάνοντας το βιβλίο να λειτουργεί σε πάμπολλα επίπεδα.

Ένα τραγικό γεγονός οδηγεί σε μια περίοδο α��οσύνθεσης, παραίτησης, κατάρρευσης και στην εξερεύνηση πολλαπλών θεμάτων.
Μια δεξιοτεχνία συνυφασμένων ιστοριών επικεντρωμένων στον πρωταγωνιστή Στίβεν Λιούις προσφέρει μία βαθιά εξερεύνηση ��ης φύσης του προσωπικού και του ιδιωτικού.
Αυτοί οι δυο κόσμοι αντιπαρατίθενται με λεπτότητα και με εξαιρετική διαύγεια.

Το «παιδί» είναι ταυτόχρονα ο κεντρικός χαρακτήρας,
η φύση των παιδιών, η ανατροφή τους, το παιδί που υπάρχει και ζει μέσα σε όλους μας,
η παλινδρομική του εξουσιαστική δύναμη στους ενήλικες, η χαμένη παιδικότητα που έχει φίλη την αυτοκτονία όταν την ανακαλείς στην μεσήλικη ζωή, όταν δεν θέλεις πια να την κρύβεις.

Το «χαμένο» ομοίως αναφέρεται σε χρόνους που δεν αναζητήθηκαν, στην ζωή, στις ζωές γενικά και πολύ ειδικά.
Χαμένος ο συγκεκριμένος χρόνος της ιστορίας μας, μέσα στον καθαρό χρόνο που υπάρχει και γεννάει συμπτώσεις, δράσεις, αδράνειες, συγχρονισμούς συνάφειας και μυστικιστικών δυνατοτήτων
της φυσικής που αλλάζει και πάντα ίδια μένει.

Έτσι,στην υπόθεση του χαμένου παιδιού, αναμειγνύονται τα πνευματικά στοιχεία της ιστορίας,
με την φύση του χρόνου, τον συναισθηματικό λαβύρινθο των ηρώων, και το ταξίδι μέσα στην απώλεια
του πατέρα που χάνει το παιδί του
και μας ταυτίζει σουρεαλιστικά με τον τρόμο.

Ο ΜακΓιούαν γνωρίζει την πολυπλοκότητα και την νομοτέλεια της ζωής.
Μέσα απο ένα γραμμικό μέσο καταφέρνει να δώσει τρισδιάστατη απεικόνιση των καταστάσεων
με απόλυτη προσήλωση και προσοχή,
με πίστη και απίστευτο ταλέντο.
ώστε να μην παρεκκλίνει πολύ,η ζωή, απο το μικροσκοπικό του όραμα.

✍

Os tesouros que tenho perdidos na minha estante sem o saber! Este "A criança no tempo" de Ian McEwan é uma leitura excecional!
Conta-nos a história de Stephen, que perde a sua filha Kate de 3 anos na fila do supermercado.
Ao contrário daquilo que nos possa parecer inicialmente, este não é um livro sobre o desaparecimento de uma criança. É um livro sobre as pessoas, os sentimentos, as percepções de cada um. Sobre experiência, sobre cura interior. As personagens são profundas e complexas e vão nos sendo apresentadas em camadas. Quer pelo tempo presente, quer por alguns recuos na linha temporal, vamo-las conhecendo cada vez melhor, cada vez mais intensamente. E está tão bem escrito! Adorei! Foi mesmo um gosto lê-lo! Não consigo descrever melhor do que isto porque neste momento sinto-me esmagada pela excelência desta leitura!
Recomendo!

I do love the way McEwan writes: his descriptions of emotions and moments are constructed under a forensic glare, exposing every detail. I love too the way he constructs a novel, with the opening providing the critical moment and the rest a slow reveal; like a flower with the initial instant of the bud bursting and then the ongoing richness of the petals gradually exposing the centre. What sometimes annoys me about his characters is their tendancy to introspection, how they seem to live in an emotional straitjacket. This title is McEwan's cutest, referencing the supermarket kidnapping of Stephen Lewis' three year old daughter, the travails of his politician friend and the touching denouement.

I have to say I did not enjoy ‘The Child in Time’, unfortunately. I found the narrative slight erratic and I felt there were a lot of unnecessary aspects to the plot. Some parts I did enjoy however overall I was left dissatisfied I’m afraid to say.

I need to remind myself that talented and established authors such as these compose high quality literary fiction. This genre doesn't always suit my tastes, but this one appealed to me years ago, about the premise of a man losing his young daughter in a crowded supermarket. Kate was only three years old, a loving and most adored cherub.

My latest book project has been to source as many books on audio that I can, and in doing this, I have been giving away (or donating) about 50 books, which is making more space!

The abduction of a child is awful, and this was covered well, the angst and anxiety faced by a father was palpable. The description of beggars in the street, the difference between the trolley items of the upper class and working class stark.

This was odd though. The police lost interest in the case after a week, as some kind of rioting had taken place and that was that. Running parallel to this story of the abducted child was that of a parliamentary enquiry of child care and literacy that was odd; Stephen was a children's author (even the back ground to this was odd, his success was fraudulent). Stephen's attendance at these meetings showed a lack of interest, he was losing his grip; everything was grey. This story in its entirety was tinged with grey.

Stephen and his wife are falling further and further apart, their worlds wasting away. It becomes apparent as this story continues that no one cares about the search for this missing young girl, and Stephen's meanderings to hold onto the memory of his daughter was quite depressing.

All in all this quite good considering the genre is not for me, I need to remind myself of this when approaching novels such as these. I am happy for three stars. Many others would enjoy this more than I, and this wasn't a long book by any means.

An internal novel that plays on its title: the search for childhood lost or to be yet found, and time moving back and forth in waves, weaving past and present into one tapestry.

In typical McEwan tradition, the novel hovers around a singular event - protagonist Stephen loses his three year old daughter in a supermarket -an event that send his marriage and personal life into a dark spiral. As Stephen tries to grapple with his loss and revisits his own lost childhood, his friend and one-time publisher, Charles, gives up the good life of a successful businessman and politician to retreat into the woods in Suffolk and play on tree houses, even visiting prostitutes to have himself spanked by matronly whores.

Through their retreat into the past, both discover an immutable truth, which is the moral of the novel: redemption lies in creating,in moving forward, not in retreating.

I found the writing was very narrative-focussed and the constant weaving of past and present put me on edge, because I never knew when I was going to be in the past vs. the present vs. somewhere in between. Yet, the prose is elegant and McEwan has the knack of bringing out mood, character and setting in a single complex sentence.

There were little asides on the fate of the writer which interested me: writing is deemed a social act in a public medium; writing extends the private life. Charles and Stephen embody this philosophy: the former as the author of a "how to" manual on the raising of children sponsored by none other than the prime minister who has a secret sexual interest in his protégé, and the latter as an author of children's books.

And yet many of the elements of the "novel" were missing: Charles' sexual deviancies were "told" to us by his wife Thelma, rather than "shown" to us in his behaviour; the parliamentary committee on children’s issues goes into speeches and moralizing to indicate their stance on the subject they were supposed to address; and Stephen, our narrator, is constantly in his head trying to sort out one scene in his past from another - if he was lost, so was I at times.

Having written these kinds of books in the earlier part of his career, I am glad that McEwan is now moving into telling us better stories, with the accent on "story", not "head games."

I had high hopes for this one having heard good things about it but although there were elements I liked, I thought it was trying to reconcile too many incompatible elements and some of it seemed rather silly.

The first part, in which the protagonist loses his daughter when she is apparently abducted in a supermarket, could have been the basis of a stronger but shorter story. Instead we get a lot of pseudo science about the elasticity of time, a near future (in 1987 terms) in which the Thatcher government lasts longer, and a lot of stuff about the nature of childhood experience.

I can't resist commenting on one ludicrous detail - not only can I see no way a sleeper train from Scotland would ever have been diverted through Suffolk, but even if it did it wouldn't arrive until much later than 1 a.m. and it wouldn't stop to pick up passengers at a small rural station.

Some interesting ideas but rather too obviously flawed for me to go any higher than three stars.

Quest'estate ho amato "Espiazione" e non vedevo l'ora di leggere qualcos'altro di McEwan. "Bambini Nel tempo" invece inizialmente mi ha deluso: la storia parte in sordina, lentissima, e più volte sono stata sul punto di chiedermi se non fosse meglio abbandonare il libro.
A metà romanzo però la narrazione si riprende e finalmente diventa coinvolgente ed emotivamente toccante. Sono molto contenta di non averlo abbandonato. Non ho ritrovato lo stile e la storia coinvolgente di "Espiazione", però "Bambini Nel tempo" è senz'altro più strutturato, complesso e meglio scritto. Riesce inoltre a toccare le corde giuste nel lettore, facendolo immergere in un'atmosfera surreale.

(3.5*) I read Ian McEwan's books not so much for the stories as for their language. He writes beautifully.

Avete presente quei libri che sono nella vostra libreria da anni, intonsi, e sembrano dimenticati? Quei libri, a volte, per qualche ignota ragione, tornano nelle vostre mani.

“Bambini nel tempo”, che mi era stato assegnato come lettura facoltativa in terza liceo, è il primo McEwan che leggo. Il motivo, forse, che mi ha spinto a dargli una possibilità, banale ma plausibile, è che mi trovo ormai in quella fase della vita in cui l’infanzia si affaccia alla mia porta, grazie ai primi figli di amici e parenti che irrompono nella mia vita.

La penna di McEwan è sublime. La vicenda in sé lineare: un uomo di mezza età, fortunato autore di libri per bambini, perde la propria figlia al supermercato, come nel più orribile dei cliché. Cosa succede poi ad un uomo – e ad una coppia – quando accade un orrore del genere è l’oggetto del romanzo di McEwan ed è superfluo e inutile cercare di riassumerlo.

Qual è il valore dell’infanzia? Cosa ne è di noi quando qualcosa si spezza da bambini? Cosa ne rimane da adulti? McEwan dipana le risposte con delicatezza, senza riuscire mai banale. Sia chiaro, non tutte scorre placidamente: il testo è spesso un pugno nello stomaco e sulla sintassi dell’autore inglese spesso si inciampa, ci si affatica.

Il finale, luminoso e inaspettato, ne fa valere ampiamente la pena