The Sense of an Ending: A Novel

I quite enjoyed this exquisitely crafted short novel, which reflects on the way we reshape our memories, creating a self-justifying narrative that might lead us away from the complete truth. On page, the protagonist, a retirement-aged man named Tony who's led an unremarkable, solidly upper-middle-class British life, recounts what sounds at first like idle reminiscences of his schoolboy and university days in the 1960s. We learn of a brilliant schoolmate and friend named Adrian, a former girlfriend named Veronica, and the falling out that drove them out of each other's lives and towards different fates.

However, an enigmatic letter in the present day brings the half-forgotten past back to life, forcing Tony to come to new terms with what happened and why. As the story progresses, it becomes evident that we're hearing more than just a casual recall of long-ago events, and that Tony might not be the reliable narrator he wants to believe he is. Or connected to events in the minds of others the way he wants to be.

Like Jonathan Franzen's last novel (and what I remember of Flannery O'Connor's short stories), this is the sort of literature that relies on discomfiting the reader, first testing our sympathies for the characters, then making them cross some ill-defined frontier of reasonable behavior where we ourselves would probably not go. The implicit question, naturally, is: how far would we go? And when would our self-deceptions become apparent to us? This kind of literary screw-turning doesn't work for every reader, of course, but given the book's short length, I think it's bearable.

Both the writing and plotting are marvelous, the story winding delicately around a hidden truth that's not fully revealed until the last page. Each unwinding puts previous information in the story in a new light, until even the seemingly throwaway exchanges between smarmy British prep students and pedantic schoolmasters raise questions about how a mind might plant its own evidence in the past while searching for clues about it. Or, as one character puts it, how “history is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.”

All in all, a complex, self-enfolding work of fiction, showing that the acts of rearranging the future and rearranging the past are never disconnected, and even a path towards reconciliation and sincerity can hold its own subtle self-delusions. Like other brilliant examples of the craft, it feels satisfactorily ended but leaves me with questions that continue to swirl in my mind.

"Time...give us enough time and our best-supported decisions will seem wobbly, our certainties whimsical."

There are novels that disturb, provoke, upset, invigorate and submerge the reader -- all at the same time. Barnes is a master of language; not a comma or ellipsis is wasted in this tight, beautiful novel. For such a compact piece it seems to drift without waste, to pause and breathe without slowing. It is both an examination of memory, time, nostalgia, history, and the meaning of life ... AND a beautiful portrait of a man probing the mysteries and responsibilities of his own life. 'The Sense of an Ending' is one of those novels where once you've read twenty pages, you can't put it down or rest until it is finished.

This is a very well written book, and there were times I wanted to savor the words by rereading them. Depends on how you are playing the audible book, but my device does not make it easy to go back just a little. So, my recommendation to a friend would be to read it but do so in print. That said, it is a worthwhile listen, and one of those books that you want to discuss afterwards with someone else who has read it.

Perspective on a Life.

The reader really helps this story. He conveys both the youth and maturity needed for the central characters and the rest of the characters are nicely differentiated and balanced.

It's a wonderful ending, and it will string you along the whole way. Once you have finished the book, I highly recommend listing to the first 20 minutes again so the jigsaw you are presented in the beginning can all fall into place. It's an elaborate metaphor for memory, and it works.

There is a letter read many years later from the central character. This letter shapes the rest of the book. It's a shock and quite incredible.

From the book: "It is a statement with an eye to the future that is often the most suspect." "History is the lives of the victors, and the self-delusions of the defeated." or "History is that certainty when the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation."

A great listen.

This book is about all the ambiguities of life, of memory, of meaning in life. It is the kind of book that many say they need to read (listen to) twice. I did go back and listen to the beginning and will probably buy the print copy.

That said, it is worth it to buy the audio version because the reader, who was an award-winning actor, gives it something extra.

The first half of the story recounts various events from the narrator's life. In the second half, a former girlfriend and a document from his earlier life reappear. The former GF and he also share new events. The narrator then needs to reassess the meaning (or even veracity) of events as he remembered them against the new perspectives of an older person with evidence that these events did not really occur in the way he remembered.

This reminds me of Kundera and of Remains of the Day. If you liked those, you will probably like this. Otherwise, consider carefully. This book is not for everyone. If you prefer a strongly plotted novel, this may not be your cup of tea (or coffee for Americans).

The sad thing is to learn that the narrator has died.

Fascinating, complex, compelling

When Tony's wife told him he was on his own now..... profound - for him

Margaret - actually, the only character I can say I liked!

The end, when Tony realized his mistakes, regrets, that he'd never change, but that he was alright with it all. Resigned to his life and content.

This was a book group read - our first of the season. For such a relatively short book, it sure had a lot going on. Our book group members are (almost) all in our 60's and could relate to Tony's musings at the end of the story, as well as being young women in the beginning days of the sexual revolution. There was lots to discuss and several differing opinions, but to a person, we all liked the book very much.

The gentle, sad voice of the narrator added to the lovely prose. I did not like every moment of the story, mostly because it is such a stark view of getting older and having regrets--I am at an age where I felt some empathy. With that in mind, probably not a book for a young person; or, at least, if you are young and you have explored this book, be sure you revisit it in twenty or thirty years.

Julian Barnes is not really my cup of tea, so if you're a big fan, disregard this review. This book was very much in his usual vein; fussy, extremely detailed examinations of the main protagonist's inner processes and reflections. Personally I thought the characters' reactions and behaviors were unrealistic much of the time. One character is so incredibly unpleasant (at least if she has appeal it isn't conveyed) that it's impossible to see why anyone would waste time with her, let alone obsess for 40 years about her. Another character feels personally responsible for someone else's personal tragedy for almost no reason. And a romance between two 15-year-olds is treated like the love-story of a lifetime. There are a few interesting plot twists. It was not bad, but I can't say I thought it was good either. I enjoyed some of his other books more.

In business, I often remind managers that they really do not know where people are coming from or what is happening at a given moment in a given life. Is he waiting for test results from the doctor? Lost a relative? Facing bankruptcy?

Well, this book is a stinging look-back at what we miss.

I have some early chapters in my own life that cause me to squirm upon review.

This book hits this subject so beautifully I lack the words.

Now here's the caveat. If you are under 30 or maybe even 40, you may not really understand this book. Not yet anyway. So don't judge too harshly until you've gone a few miles...

Recommend this book?

Yes, highly.

To whom? Everyone though the younger one is, the less it might be understood.

Chris Reich, TeachU

First, I'll say this review is chock full of spoilers, so if you haven't read the book yet, don't read this. Part of the beauty of the book is letting it unfold as it happens, so don't ruin that for yourself.

When I first started this book, it feel pretentious and trite to me because of the predictable feeling, very Tobias Wolff's Old -School, of the (perhaps unrealistic) uber-literate school boys who compete to see who can be the smartest. But then, Barnes presents the boys as they grow up and we see the rest of Tony's (oh, how he'd hate that bit of familiarity, wouldn't he?) story.

Story is so important to this book. It seems the living (almost breathing) embodiment of Joan Didion's idea that "we tell ourselves stories in order to live." How true that statement is for Tony, who lives his life based on how he sees and how he presents his story, complete with his visions and revisions (can great reviewers steal too, Eliot?). What's most interesting about Tony's story is that we really only know HIS story. There are no magical devices or unrealistic events that unfold so that we can know it all; we only know what Tony would know, even as unsatisfying as that may feel at first.

We don't really have an ending, just a sense of an ending, as the title tells us. But, isn't that life? We ourselves do not find it all out. There are stories that exist that we'll never know, yet we carry on. And, isn't that Margaret's point, when she tells the story about the nanny and the diary? Sometimes we seek to know it all, to find out the ending, we end up learning things that we'd be better off not knowing. Yet, from Adrienne's choices, we see that trying to create your own perfect ending, with his philosophically justified suicide(which seemed by the end to be as silly as the boys saying things are "philosophically self-evident"). Adrienne's choice to commit suicide and create this ending is undermined by his actions with Veronica's mother (Veronica who ended up quite damaged after all, almost all because of her interaction with Tony). Through his son, Adrienne's life and story continue on, just as our lives never really end, but live on in some way, however indirect.

The other interesting part of the book is the way history is presented. We often think of history as the BIG events where "something happens" either before, during, after, or because of times of "great unrest." Barnes shows history as personal. And, in this personal account, we see how fragmented, revised, changeable and malleable history can be, even at a personal and perhaps somewhat insignificant level. If this is what happens to our own histories, then how much more complex and complicated is our presentation of larger and more influential historical events?

I loved almost all of the 4 hours and 38 minutes of this book, except for a bit of the masturbation stuff. Maybe I'm just being a prude, but other than showing just how "sex hungry" (a quote from the book's description) Tony was as a young man, some of it just felt well, masturbatory, with no real significance to the book.