“It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all” (351).

“The problem these fifty-nine years has been this: how can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms. No atonement for God, or novelists, even if they are atheists. It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all” (350-351).

This passage, appearing on the last pages of the novel, has always been interesting to me. It is possibly the only direct reference to the title of the book, and appears in the few pages that are not "written" by thee author Briony. McEwan shows how Briony is driven and absolutely consumed by her guilt, so the idea of atonement, or reconciliation for her sins is definitely something of high importance to her. 


The dictionary definition of atonement is the “Reparation for a wrong or injury,” and perhaps in finally telling the truth about the series of events that a younger version of herself set into motion with a lie, she hoped to make some sort of amends. However, as both Robbie and Cecilia had passed away without ever having seen each other again, true atonement for Briony was simply not possible. As she says, “It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all” (351).

The word "Essay" or "Essai" in french, is derived from the french verb Essayer or "to try." I have always loved turning to the etymology of this word, because it reminds me that an "essay" is simply an attempt - it is not a definitive answer, because there are no definitive answers. This is exactly what Briony does in her novel; her quest for atonement has always been impossible, and yet she still tries to make amends for the wrong she committed all those years ago. In addition, there are several possible interpretations of the novel, and yet none of them are exactly correct. The significance is in finding this proliferation of meanings.

"Hidden drawers, lockable diaries and cryptographic systems could not conceal from Briony the simple truth: she had no secrets" (5).

In Peter Matthew's article "The Impression of a Deeper Darkness: Ian McEwan's Atonement," he analyzes the doubts brought about by the knowledge of Briony's authorship:

"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>.

She said the pieces had simply come away in her hand, but that was hardly to be believed" (262).

It's all about the vase.

The reason why I despise the inclusion of the rejection letter in part three so much is simply the vast amount of doubt that it inspires in the reader. In that long ago AP Literature class, we had a brief discussion on the inclusion of the letter, however, I just couldn't bring myself to go back to the beginning of the novel and see for myself whether or not the suggested revisions were done. I didn't care too much about some of them - she could simply have forgotten the name of the fountain, she could have been increasing the suspense by having Cecilia go in her underwear into the fountain, and the addition of the surrounding details were simply necessary to the progression of the story.

But the vase - that is the backbone of the entire story. By changing this, all the seams of the entire story are instantly unraveled. As Robinson states in his article, "Aporetic questions will always haunt such moments. Was the “real” vase the un-lifelike Ming? Was there a vase? If not, was there a fountain?" I'm inclined to take this a few steps further, were there even a Robbie and Cecilia? Was Lola actually attacked? Did Briony actually commit her crime? Was there even a story?!

As Robinson says, "The furniture of realism can be changed or removed at a stroke." The vase is the entire basis of the story. It was "Uncle Clem's vase" that he received during the war, risked his life to save, and then ultimately found its way to become the prized possession of the Tallis household. It is the thing that causes Robbie and Cecilia to realize their love, and eventually, it is the symbol of their ultimate destruction when Betty drops it, "She said the pieces had simply come away in her hand, but that was hardly to be believed" (262). The vase is the symbol of Robbie and Cecilia's love, it is the glue that hold the entire story together. If it can simply be changed from a "Ming" to a "more lifelike" Meissen, what else has Briony changed in the novel?