: I have always been somewhat suspicious of Ian McEwan. I first read Amsterdam which I disliked intensely since it was obvious to me what would happen very early in the novel and I didn’t particularly enjoy seeing it work out just as I predicted. Since then I’ve read a good chunk of his fiction and I’ve had this complaint: that he comes off as a more-than-usually-sophisticated thriller writer who focuses on the intrusion of gratuitous violence into the lives of the characters and watches how they deal with it.
Recently I read On Chesil Beach which I saw as very well put together and moving away from the usual formula (to which he returned, disappointingly in Saturday after attempting much more in Atonement) in that there was no physical violence and the dramatic plot development where the lovers separate on their wedding night never to see each other again grew out of their own psychology; it was not a crisis imposed from without.
Then I went back and read Black Dogs (published in 1992) and found it not nearly as “accomplished” especially in writing style as any of his last three, but not “just a sophisticated thriller” either. The narrator’s parents were killed in an accident when he was 8 and he grows up in the chaotic and unsupportive home of his elder sister. He makes a habit of interacting with the parents of his friends even as his friends rebel against them. Then he marries Jenny Tremaine and takes over the relationship with her parents, June and Bernard. As the novel starts, June and Bernard are elderly and the narrator, Jeremy, is interviewing June for a memoir he plans to write. The couple—both lapsed Communists—have lived their lives mostly apart, not because they don’t love each other, but because they disagree ideologically, June believing in both good and evil and in the possibility of unseen powers while Bernard remains the complete scientist/rationalist. Jeremy focuses on their philosophical differences and wonders if he’s better or worse because he has no philosophical passions.
June lived most of her life in a bergerie in France where she sought a spiritual life while Bernard was an active scientist, writer, journalist and politician in England. The event that marked their irreconcilable difference occurred on their honeymoon in France when June, wandering ahead of Bernard who stopped to examine an unusual caterpillar, encountered two large and vicious black dogs and during the confrontation experienced what seemed to her absolute evil (in the black dogs) as well as a visitation (evidenced by an unusual light event) from God who allowed her to survive.
The novel is set against the background of WWII. The “black dogs”, who turn out, appropriately, to be remnants of those trained by the Nazis during the occupation, are what separate June and Bernard. Bernard is proud that she defended herself with a knife and survived; June is sure she was allowed to survive in order to explore the spirituality inherent in human life. June believes in good and evil; Bernard believes in the infinite perfectibility of humans. Jeremy starts out feeling superior to both of them because he has no beliefs.

A writer is collecting information to draft a memoir of his mother-in-law who is terminal ill; he uncovers an amazing story of how his mother-in-law and father-in-law met and fell in love on how their relationship was forever changed by what the mother-in-law truly saw as a confrontation with evil... black dogs. An understated yet as a whole quite potent tale that looks at the power that can be exerted by an exposure to evil and also of how differing personal ideologies can impact on loving human relationships. 6 out of 12

este unul dintre cele mai tulburatoare romane ale mcewan, pentru ca are o dimensiune social-politica pe care celelalte romane ale lui nu o au.
cainii negri este o metafora, o descriere a raului raul care ne impresoara, raul care ne macina inividual si colectiv, care ne-a dus in razboaie, in fascism, in lagare. in comunism.
este o metafora despre viata. desore triumful vietii spirituale in fata celei nateriale sau dogmatice.
este o poveste despre familie, pierdute (ca in cazul lui jeremy) sau divizate de idei si viziuni diferite ( ca familia lui jenny).
este si o poveste de iubire - june si betrand, in ciuda difentelor si a diferendelor, s-au iubit foarte multe.
este despre razboi, despre cruzime, despre comunism, despre spiritualitate si credinta, despre pierdere si regasire.

The narrator of Black Dogs, Jeremy lost his parents at 8 years old, latches onto his friends' parents, then his wife's. The story takes place during the Berlin Wall, November 1989. Jeremy is fascinated by his Wife's parents and their unusual relationship: they love one another, but are unable to live together. Their extreme ideologies make it difficult to live together. This is another McEwan that I really liked

I read this book in its entirety, breathlessly, while on a 10 hour flight to US, the first I ever took. From the preface I couldn't bear to put it down.

This beginning of the book (the preface) is so convincing, so authentic, that it really seems like the author is speaking himself and devoid of any artifice. Only after a while you notice that it's not the author, but the main character who does the speaking. Still, this hooks you in and it makes everything so relatable that it's hard not to become engrossed in the story.

For me, it was a fascinating account of some of Europe's most turbulent moments, recounted from the viewpoint of the common man, which always makes for valuable insight. I also loved how the main character is trying to make sense of his in-laws and their relationship. This pushes you to agree more with one of them and then more with the other one, as the story's tides kick in.

In the end, everything clears up like a fog, making you see more clearly what you perhaps intuited all along, about who was right and who was aloof. This clearing of the fog isn't orchestrated by some dramatic reveal or anything like a twist; it just naturally grows from the story.

As like with most of McEwan's writing, I loved it.

Would be 3.5 stars if possible. I forgot how well he writes. Even if I usually find him/his characters pretentious and unrelatable. There were those moments in this book as well, but I resonated too closely and personally with the classic Rational vs Spiriutal, Good vs Evil, White vs Black - vs Gray inner conflicts of the soul. What do we really really wish for - what "should be" , versus what really is, and how we reconcile the two. I like how McEwan's protagonist/storytelling device, Jeremy, does acknowledge that these arguments are somewhat irrelevant and artificially constructed, because there doesn't have to be an inherent conflict between the two (or three). Loved the part where June and Bernard argued on his shoulders. I like how Jeremy's personal story and background is woven in naturally, how his abandonment as a child has affected him as a adult.

I do think McEwan leans towards June's account of Life/Purpose/Meaning. Which is comforting. But of course, Bernard would argue that comfort does not lend any credence to a belief or make it a fact, and in actuality belies a bias that works against its favor.

Fuck this philosophically mindfuddling no-answers-anywhere shit. Ok, I'm ok with my three-star review now.

I do not recommend this novel. It is trite, long and boring! 0 of 10 stars.

Prvi susret s Mekjuanom, fino smo se popričali. Ako je osovina njegove priče razlaz supružnika zbog različite ideološke opredeljenosti, pa to današnjem čitaocu može izgledati prevaziđeno (jer je velikim pričama/naracijama poodavno na grobištu izrasla trava i mahovina, a napukli spomenici se poprilično nagnuli preteći da se sruše), meni (mudrom starcu duge sede brade) te priče još drže pažnju pošto sam, avaj, imala priliku da izbliza posmatram sjaj i bedu samoupravnog socijalizma, odnosno bila sam uronjena u njega, pa zatim izbačena u nešto što nema ime niti ga zaslužuje. Pretpostavljam da ta vrsta sukoba koji može rezultirati mnogogodišnjom odvojenošću ljudi koji se zapravo vole može izgledati nerealna čitaocu koji ne shvata da su nekad postojala vremena i ljudi za koje je ideološko opredeljenje bilo povezano za sav ostali život znakom jednakosti. Danas je moguće postaviti event na društvenim mrežama kojim se pozivaju ljudi da upadnu na vojnu bazu, ali naravno da do tog upada neće doći iako će se ljudi javiti i pokazati interesovanje. Jer danas je događaj pokazivanje interesovanja za taj upad, i sva se energija za promene u svetu prazni kroz besmislene tričarije - neko će to pravdati i nazivati druženjem, a meni (mudroseru čak i bez brade) objašnjavati da ništa ne razumem o SMISLU koji jedna takva aktivnost ima za milion prijavljenih ljudi... Ali, nije uvek bilo tako (ne kažem da je bilo bolje - ideologije su upravo i donele krvave obračune u kojima su izginuli milioni ljudi, ili su bar bile katalizatori koji su pomogli pohlepi i volji za moć da se razmašu i pomahnitaju). Kažem samo da je bilo drugačije, i da je odnos prema promenama u svetu shvatan dovoljno ozbiljno da su ljudi mogli u tom haosu da zaborave na svoje lične priče. Pa i Džun i Bernard, o kojima narator piše, trudeći se da razume ozbiljnost njihovih pogleda. O tome su pisali i drugi, recimo Regina Šer u "Borovici" i Ljudmila Ulicka u "Jakovljevim lestvama"(pružajući nam, kao i Mekjuan priliku da zavirimo u vreme i pre i posle pada Berlinskog zida, datuma koji danas nikome više ništa ne govori). A možda bi mogli još malo da govorimo o tome, makar zato što su crni psi još uvek na stazama kojima pokušavamo da se krećemo ka svojim boljim životima (u pokušaju da budemo srećni ljudi koji će, gle gle, nabasati negde i na neko porodično blago, ili bar pastirsku kućicu u šumi, kućicu u koju bi se mogli povući kad nam sva buka i bes sveta pojedu i preostalu mrvu vere da je moguće osloboditi se velikih i gladnih čudovišta čiji se vlasnici menjaju iako deluje da su to jedni isti). Priča je ispričana solidnim stilom, nerazbokorenim ali i nepatetičnim; u pitanju je autor sa kojim ću se verovatno još sretati.

I still find it odd that some (if not most) people will never re-read a book. I've just re-read this one because it was my first McEwan and I was so unfamiliar with his odd story structure that the essence of the book didn’t stay with me. But that was something like ten years ago. I like to think I’ve grown as both reader and writer in that time, so I knew the book would speak volumes to me now.

It does. But given that you might not have read it, a little something about the storyline.

English couple June and Bernard Tremaine are former Communists who have married immediately following WWII, Jenny their daughter, who subsequently marries the story’s narrator, Jeremy. By the time Jeremy and Jenny marry, the parents are separated, and Jeremy is fascinated with both, who use their son-in-law as a conduit to one another. By now both have forsaken communism, Bernard for something of a secular humanist approach to life, June immersed in spiritual practices. The book's - and Jeremy’s - project is to discover the nature of their growing apart, presumably as a tool of understanding to prevent something similar from happening to Jenny and him. On the way to such understanding, Jeremy unearths the singular moment of the older couple’s division, an event occurring in France’s Midi, involving a pair of black dogs.

McEwan weaves his story back and forth in time and centers it on the heady days of the fall of the Berlin Wall. McEwan’s - and Jeremy’s - tone here is one of reasoned detachment, but that does little to erase the mystery of June’s experience with these black dogs, an event the Bernard didn’t witness and wishes to rationalize away.

Here the author personalizes the eternal conflict between human experience and humanity’s fascination with what might lie beyond such experience. It’s a skillful, tastefully told tale, measured as perhaps only McEwan can do today in giving us literary insight.

My rating: 19 of 20 stars

Φακτ 1: Δεν είχα ξαναπιάσει στα χέρια μου βιβλίο του ΜακΓιουαν
Φακτ 2: Δεν διαβάζω ποτέ κριτικές πριν τελειώσω το βιβλίο γιατί επηρεάζουν πάρα πολύ τη διάθεση μου ως προς το βιβλίο.

Η αλήθεια είναι ότι ο πρόλογος δεν με ενθουσίασε καθόλου, με άφησε με μια αμφιθυμία να μην μπορώ να καταλάβω αν ακολουθεί ένα καλό βιβλίο ή μια πατάτα. Γενικώς, ο διάλογος μεταξύ υλισμού και μεταφυσικής είναι ένας ασφαλής δρόμος προς μια μεγάλη καλλιτεχνική πατάτα.
Ο Τζέρεμυ χάνει σε πολυ μικρή ηλικία τους γονείς του και αυτό τον οδηγεί στο να περνάει καλά με τους γονείς όλων των άλλων φίλων του αντί να περνάει καλά με τους φίλους του, στην ανάγκη του να καλύψει την έλλειψη αυτή. Στο μοτίβο αυτό δένεται βαθιά και ουσιαστικά με τους γονείς της γυναίκας του, ένα ζευγάρι πρώην κομμουνιστών που μέσα στο ρου της ζωής έφτασαν να έχουν εκ διαμέτρου αντίθετες αντιλήψεις για τη ζωή. Μέσα από τη σχέση και τις συζητήσεις του Τζέρεμυ με τους δύο ξεχωριστά, διεξάγεται μια μάχη του υλισμού με το μεταφυσικό, αρκετά απολαυστική αφού γίνεται σε ένα πεδίο απαλλαγμένο από ηθικισμούς, σωστό και λάθος και χωρίς διδακτισμους από το συγγραφέα. Σε κάνει να αναρωτιέσαι αν τα ερωτήματα αυτά είναι τόσο διαχρονικά ή αν εν τέλει η εποχή μας είναι πολύ μπαγιάτικη και ακόμα μας απασχολούν τα ίδια ζητήματα με τα οποία καταπιάνεται ένα βιβλίο 30 χρόνια πριν. Whatever!
Σύγχρονη γραφή με χιούμορ. Το σημείο που γέλασα πιο πολύ όταν η Τζουν ισχυρίζεται ότι το Παρίσι είναι η πιο ωραία χώρα του κόσμου (μέσα σε ένα βιβλίο Βρετανού συγγραφέα, wtf! ). Γλυκόπικρο, παράλληλα μας κάνει και ένα ταξίδι σε σύγχρονα ιστορικά γεγονότα όπως η πτώση του τείχους του Βερολίνου.
Οκ, δεν είναι κάποιο τεράστιο λογοτεχνικό απαύγασμα αλλά είναι πολύ πολύ καλό. That's my two cents.

I read him to remind myself that less is more.

Attraverso l’inconciliabile conflitto ideologico che distrugge l’unione ma non il reciproco amore di Bernard e June Tremaine, l’autore mette in campo l’eterna dicotomia tra fede e ragione, tra vita attiva e vita contemplativa, tra materialismo e spiritualità.

Il romanzo è molto intenso e si presta a chiavi di lettura diverse e personalizzate. A tratti appare un po’ artificioso nell’espediente di collegare alle vicende personali dei protagonisti il maggior numero possibile di eventi storici; a tratti, forse, anche un po’ freddo, nella messa in scena di personaggi stilizzati, più icone idealizzate dalla memoria che persone suscettibili delle evoluzioni proprie della vita reale; tuttavia sono innegabili il valore suggestivo e il pregio letterario di certe pagine, da includere a mio avviso tra le più belle che siano mai state scritte. In particolare l’esordio del libro, in cui Jeremy, il narratore, ritrae la sua solitaria adolescenza di orfano in cerca di supplire al vuoto lasciato dai propri genitori con la frequentazione dei genitori altrui; o i passaggi in cui rievoca il legame con la nipotina Sally, sola come e più di lui in quanto vittima di una violenza familiare strisciante e segreta; o l’incontro con Jenny Tremaine, divenuta sua moglie e madre dei suoi figli, che paradossalmente, con quei genitori separati e in guerra tra loro, gli offre anche il conforto dell’unione familiare che aveva sempre desiderato.
Magnifico pure il capitolo finale, nel quale si ricompone il quadro fino a quel punto soltanto abbozzato per stralci di ricordi spesso discordanti tra loro e si tirano le fila degli eventi esplicativi. Qui la grandiosa immagine dei Cani Neri esplode e dilaga nella nostra mente in tutta la sua oscena imponenza, seminandovi sgomento e interrogativi inquietanti.
Qual è dunque la strada da scegliere “tra la ragione e la spiritualità, tra la politica e lo yoga, tra chi è convinto e chi si astiene, tra la scienza e l'intuizione”?
Jeremy dichiara di non riconoscersi in nessuna delle due posizioni o, meglio, di riconoscere le ragioni di entrambe, senza tuttavia riuscire a schierarsi totalmente né per l’una, né per l’altra.
Tuttavia, il terrificante incontro con i “cani neri” nella vicenda particolare di June, ma anche, in senso simbolico, nell’esistenza di ciascun essere umano e nella Storia, indica chiaramente l'esistenza del Male, della crudeltà, della violenza, della depravazione e dell'odio. Ognuno di noi si porta dentro questo orribile potenziale, che nessuna teoria sociale è in grado di spiegare. Perciò è solo operando su se stesso al fine di moderare e spegnere questo impulso con la forza dell'amore che l'essere umano potrà sperare di garantirsi la felicità e la pace con gli altri. Soltanto sperare, non averne la certezza.

Ma è ai cani neri che ritorno con maggiore frequenza. Mi turba il pensiero che devo loro tanta felicità, soprattutto se mi lascio andare a considerarli non come semplici animali, ma come bestie allegoriche, incarnazioni dello spirito. June mi diceva che per tutta la vita, ogni tanto tornava a vederli: la loro immagine si depositava sulla sua retina nella breve vertigine che precede il sonno. Corrono lungo il sentiero della Gorge de Vis, e il più grosso dei due lascia una scia di sangue sulle pietre bianche. Attraversano la linea d'ombra e sprofondano in una tenebra mai raggiunta dal sole [...] Poi, quando il sonno ha la meglio, si allontanano, come macchie nere sul grigio dell'alba, e svaniscono procedendo verso la montagna dalla quale ritorneranno a tormentarci in qualche angolo d'Europa, chissà quale, chissà quando.