"The novel's most famous shift of perspective is the revelation that Briony is the author of the account in its entirety. Earl G. Ingersoll writes: "McEwan's epilogue radically subverts the reader's knowledge of not merely the 'content' of the preceding narrative but its provenance as well" (248). The reality of the characters as the reader has seen them—in both a psychological and a concrete sense—is tainted by this newly gained knowledge of Briony's authorship. How are we, as readers, to believe in the validity of the innermost thoughts and motivations of these characters when, as it turns out, they are told from the perspective of someone who has a clear interest in how we judge the story?" (https://muse.jhu.edu/journals/esc_english_studies_in_canada/v032/32.1mathews.html)I have referenced this issue of the unreliable narrator many times before, however, the issue is most prominent in regards to the letter of rejection in the final section of Briony's novel. With the inclusion of this letter, as well as the recommended changes incorporated seamlessly into the novel, one is led to question the reality of Briony's account of the narrative:
"But to the wary reader Briony's comments should remain unsatisfactory, a narrative ruse designed to project once again, perhaps, the impression of a deeper darkness. The key piece of evidence is contained in Cyril Connolly's rejection letter to Briony for, as Pilar Hidalgo points out, it takes "a careful second reading of the novel to perceive that Connolly's corrections […] have been silently incorporated into the body of Atonement" (87). Having just read the first draft of the novel that is to become Atonement, Connolly congratulates Briony for her stylistic innovations but suggests that her story needs some deeper set of implications for its characters: "If this girl has so fully misunderstood or been so wholly baffled by the strange little scene that has unfolded before her, how might it affect the lives of the two adults? Might she come between them in some disastrous fashion?" (295). Connolly's battery of suggestions forces the reader to ask some crucial questions of their own about McEwan's text: Did Briony really commit the crime on which the entire narrative hinges? Is the novel perhaps nothing more than a complex but empty secret, designed to play on the reader's compulsion to head, like one of Emily's moths, toward the impression of a deeper darkness? There is no final answer to these questions, for McEwan hints that the novel may be nothing more than an act of concealment that the modern reader, armed with the pessimism of the modern age, is destined to interpret, without further proof, as a sign of guilt."The entire novel follows the suggested path of the rejection letter, leading one to question the reality of the entire novel, whether or not it is just simply, "...a complex but empty secret, designed to play on the reader's compulsion to head, like one of Emily's moths, toward the impression of a deeper darkness?" In the very beginning of the novel we are told (by Briony herself) that she has a passion for secrets, however, "Hidden drawers, lockable diaries and cryptographic systems could not conceal from Briony the simple truth: she had no secrets" (5). The novel, her crime, could be the secret that Briony so yearned for. However, the inclusion of the letter calls into problem the question of the accuracy of the entire novel. It is possible that perhaps the inclusion of the letter (by Briony herself) was an intentional act, in an attempt to hide from the reader the truth of the secret, by making it seem as if there is no secret -though it is incredibly likely that I could be looking too much into this matter.
Matthews, Peter. "The Impression of a Deeper Darkness: Ian McEwan's Atonement."Project Muse. 2006. Web. 1 Dec. 2011. <https://muse.jhu.edu/journals/esc_english_studies_in_canada/v032/32.1mathews.html>.
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