"She was one of those children possessed by the desire to have the world just so" (4).

In reading Peter Matthew's article "The Impression of a Deeper Darkness: Ian McEwan's Atonement "I found a passage that not only endorsed my earlier observations of the plot of the novel coinciding with the atrocities of WWII, but went a step further, likening Briony's obsession with order and her subsequent guilt at her crime to the rise and fall of Nazi Fascism:

In considering these economic relationships, the reader must also take into account that Briony's "debt," her "crime," as McEwan calls it throughout the novel, is framed by the context of World War II. McEwan brilliantly interweaves the family drama with the movement of history, making each set of crimes reflect on the other. In terms of sheer atrocity, the war easily dwarfs Briony's misdeed, but the reader never loses sight of her shameful action. For a novel that draws from some of the key historical events of the twentieth century, however, there is surprisingly little discussion of the Nazis or the rise of fascism. McEwan implies, instead, that the fascist mindset has pervaded modern culture at a much deeper, unconscious level...Briony's interest in writing, to provide a further example, is tied to a fascistic obsession with order. McEwan writes: "She was one of those children possessed by the desire to have the world just so" (4). The point is not that Briony simply reflects the fascist mindset, even though her childish but calculating nature would seem to fit the stereotype. Instead, the narrative of Atonement ends up being an account of Briony's lifelong struggle with her internal attraction to fascism—the "fascism in us all," as Michel Foucault calls it—with its external patterns of order and symmetry (xiii). [End Page 154] (https://muse.jhu.edu/journals/esc_english_studies_in_canada/v032/32.1mathews.html)

I found this comparison extremely interesting, yet slightly horrifying at the same time. It is difficult to compare the crime of a silly naive little girl to the Nazi atrocities committed during the war, however, Matthews does make a good point. Briony's thoughts and actions do parallel fascistic beliefs, and her actions in regards to Robbie could certainly be construed as such. Matthews even goes so far as to liken Briony's horror at Lola and the twins' portrayal of her play that was contrary to her expectations to the Nazi hatred of "impure races" and their subsequent "cleansing" of them through the final solution of mass murder. While I think this view may be a bit extreme, I suppose these parallels found by Matthews are accurate. In addition to likening the personal problems of these characters to the problems of the war, Matthews also explores the possibility of the unreliable narrator, Briony, changing the events of the story to placate her selfish interests - her need for secrets where in reality, none are to be found. I hope to return to this rather upsetting possibility at a later point.

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>.

"It was not reasonable or just to hate Briony, but it helped" (215).

I had completely forgotten about how Robbie explained away Briony's actions against him. I recalled Briony's insignificant mentioning of the incident, her jumping into the river to see if Robbie would prove his love for her by saving her, but I had just sort of brushed it off. Briony didn't attribute any significance to the incident, however, perhaps simply by mentioning it she is revealing her real, suppressed reason for accusing Robbie: jealousy of his love for her sister. I had never before thought of the incident in this context before, but it does make sense as a possible explanation for Briony's actions. Taking into account that Briony is the author of this, perhaps the whole reason she concocts the reason for blaming him because it "made sense," is to disguise the true, petty reasons for her actions. This could explain her extreme guilt at the end of the novel, as she can never really forgive herself for allowing something as silly as jealousy to ruin the lives of her sister and Robbie. Her covering it up could also be an example of her intense need for secrets explained at the beginning of the novel. In his article "The Impresion of  Deeper Darkness: Ian McEwan's Atonement, Peter Matthews explains Briony's need for secrets:

At the centre of the book's narrative is a secret, an obscured truth, which McEwan uses to lure the reader into the story. Like Briony, the reader is pushed toward a moral judgment by this act of concealment, even though the information necessary to make an ethically informed decision is withheld. Each secret contains two possible destinies, writes Maurice Blanchot, "The stratagem of the secret is either to show itself, to make itself so visible that it isn't seen (to disappear, that is, as a secret), or to hint that the secret is only secret where there is no secret, or no appearance of any secret" (137). The crucial quality of a secret, in other words, lies in its form rather than its content, making the source of its attraction entirely negative. The paradoxical result is that the positive content at the heart of the secret, the evidence that can be gathered and analyzed, is effectively sidelined by the act of obscuration that frames it. (https://muse.jhu.edu/journals/esc_english_studies_in_canada/v032/32.1mathews.html)

While in his article Matthews argues a much different point (that there really is no secret in the novel and the story is merely Briony's attempt to expose her secret when, in reality, she has none - something that I hope to explore later on), the same argument can be used. Perhaps Briony admits to one secret, the possibility of her crime based on her innocence rather than the real reason - her jealousy.

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>.

"First his own life ruined, then everybody else's" (204).

I haven't really thought much about this story in regards to its relation to the historical backdrop of World War, however, it is impossible to escape the horrible realities of the war in Part two, Robbie's section about his eagerness to get back to Cecilia and resume their love. Robbie and the corporals travel through the countryside, avoiding the roads in fear of air raids, making their way to Dunkirk and the (hopefully) waiting ships. McEwan describes the war in horrifyingly realistic details, trying to show something that really can only be experienced through being there. He describes the air raids, the bombs that vaporized not only the soldiers, but women and children as well. He describes the bodies littering the streets that they are forced to simply walk past. He describes the lack of food and water, the unbearable fear and exhaustion and the force of Cecilia's love the only thing that Keeps Robbie walking towards the sea.

Framing the story in this way, with the historical backdrop of the war, certainly adds an extra element to the story. The first part of the novel takes place after WWI, in the time between WWII. The first portion of the novel takes place in a time of calm, however, the faraway threat of war seems looming on the horizon. Some characters in this portion of the novel express their views on the war, some believing that there will not be a war at all and others knowing that there will be one. Paul Marshall is excited about the coming war, viewing it as an opportunity to expand his wealth with his Amo chocalate bar that he plans to be issued to every soldier. The Tallis family is shielded from the realities of war by their wealth. Robbie, too, has plans to become a doctor with the help of the Tallis family and his studies, as well as position with the Tallis family would keep him from the lower and more dangerous ranks of the war. However, all of this is changed following Briony's accusation. Robbie is sent to prison and Cecilia, estranged from her family, becomes a nurse to aid those injured in the coming war. Both of the lovers are ultimately casualties of the war, Robbie - dying in Dunkirk just before he would be evacuated and returned to a waiting Cecilia, and Cecilia being killed in one of the bombings of London. The personal tragedies of the two lovers coincide with the historical problems of the war, adding another dimension of tragedy on the story. As Robbie thinks on the road to Dunkirk, with the imminent threat of air raids at any moment, "First his own life ruined, then everybody else's" (204).

"Let's forget what you know. You're saying you saw him" (169).

"'You saw him then."

"I know it was him."

"Let's forget what you know. You're saying you saw him."

"Yes, I saw him."

"Just as you see me."

"Yes."

"You saw him with your own eyes."

"Yes. I saw him. I saw him'" (169).

With these words Briony concludes her interview, thus sealing the fate of Robbie Turner. The issue of whether or not Briony actually saw anything at all that night remains in question, and there is a discrepancy in this point between the novel and the movie. In the novel, Briony's insistence on fitting the events of the world around her into the simple, orderly world of her novels, shapes her view on the incident. As Briony the novelist writes, "...she would have preferred to qualify, or complicate, her use of the word "saw." Less like seeing, more like knowing" (159). In the time leading up to the trial, "She was like a bride-to-be who begins to feel her sickening qualms as the day approaches, and dares not speak her mind because so many preparations have been made on her behalf" (159). In Briony's description of the actual incident, she at first believes Marshall and Lola to be a bush, and then sees only a dark human form hurrying away. So she saw nothing...probably. There is the distinct possibility that, as Briony is the author of this novel, she hoped to paint herself in a more flattering light, and thus shape this younger version of herself in order to offer some sort of excuse for her actions. The police even determined that there was enough moonlight and she was close enough to them to see who it had been, "Either she saw or she didn't see" (160). She could have seen something, anything at all, which had impacted her uncertainty, however, she attests that she saw nothing. If this is true, then there is also the very slim possibility that it had been Robbie. As unlikely as it may be, judging from Robbie's character, it is possible. If Briony saw absolutely nothing, then Lola is the only witness. We are led to assume that she lied about not knowing who it was in order to protect Marshall, but what if she hadn't actually lied? Their marriage at the end of the novel is enough to convince Briony that Robbie was innocent, however, this evidence certainly would not hold up in a court of law. With no evidence to directly contradict it and the only witnesses unreliable and biased, these possibilities remain.

In the film, however, it is directly implied that Briony saw Marshall that day. Unlike the novel, Briony has a flashlight (or "torch" as the English say), and for a split second, it illuminates someone. In her surprise, Briony drops the flashlight, yet we are given the slightest hint of red hair, a mustache - very different characteristics from Robbie. It is thus heavily implied that Briony lied. It was not so much that she hadn't seen anything and instead allowed her beliefs to guide her eyes, it was that she explicitly lied. The film relies heavily on the drowning scene, asserting (falsely, I believe) that it was jealousy of Robbie's love for her sister that led her to accuse him. This incident is described in the book as well, however, it is not really given much importance. I suppose, however, that the very mentioning of it by Briony the author could be construed as significant - perhaps a freudian inclusion on Briony's part about the real reason for accusing Robbie. Regardless, the entire novel hinges on this incident, and the various interpretations of the "true" events can change one's entire view of the novel. Unfortunately, as this is ultimately a fictional work by McEwan, the "real" story will never be known - we can merely argue our various interpretations, never being able to reach a definite conclusion.

"I couldn't say for sure" (157).

In my previous post, I decided to explore the issue of Lola's consent in the events that transpired on that fateful summer day that the novel centers around. In my rereading of the novel I have found that there are many possible interpretations of every scene. As Briony is the narrator, her account is inevitably biased. In addition, she is writing about 60 years after the fact, and includes omniscient narration of scenes and person thoughts - things that she cannot possibly know. In addition, her inclusion of the imagined scene at the end, as well as her knowledge of the outcome of the story (and her frequent vague allusions to this fact), one cannot help but question the accuracy of her account of the story. In spite of the inevitable plethora of interpretations that one can derive from this novel, due to the lack of information I found on this subject, I decided it would be worthwhile to explore it a bit more.

The first allusion to Lola's probable consent is apparent in the nursery scene. At the beginning of the novel, we witness an example of Lola's character in her insistence that she play the part of Arabella in Briony's play. Briony is outraged, but ultimately yields to the older girl's bossy and commanding nature. In addition, the description of Lola's clothes (the reason why she won't sit on the floor during the rehearsal because they might get wrinkled) and her preoccupation with her hair and her appearance is reminiscent of a girl desperately yearning for maturity. This is hardly the characterization of an innocent, blameless victim. In the beginning of the nursery scene with Marshall, we are privy to yet another example of Lola's bossy and forceful character in her commanding use of the adult phrase, "'Then I'll thank you not to talk about them in front of the children"' when Marshall mentions having read of their parents divorce in the papers. After this exchange, Marshall blushes and apologizes profusely, showing Lola's apparent command over him. He then resumes his small-talk with the children, concentrating specifically on Lola. Lola is flattered by this adult attention and constantly tries to make herself seem more mature. When he compliments her trousers: 

"She was pleased rather than embarassed and her fingers lightly brushed the fabric where it ballooned out across her narrow hips. "We got them in Liberty's when my mother brought me to London to see a show."

"And what did you see?"

"Hamlet" They had in fact seen a matinee pantomime at the London Palladium during which Lola had spilled a strawberry drink down her frock, and Liberty's was right across the street" (57).

 Marshall is certainly expressing an inappropriate interest in the girl, however, Lola (in her yearning to grow up) does not discourage it. Following this is the scene absolutely oozing of sexual tension, " he crossed and uncrossed his legs. Then he took a deep breath. "Bite it," he said softly. "You've got to bite it"' (59). While Lola may not completely understand this underlying implications of this exchange, she simply laughs and dismisses the twins, leaving herself alone with Marshall.

The fact that the twins are not in the nursery with Lola and Marshall at the time that they supposedly inflicted the scratches and bruises on her directly contradicts Lola's assertion and Marshall's defense of it. In addition, her embarrassment and crying when the incident is mentioned alludes to the fact that something other than a sibling quarrel had taken place. It is possible that Marshall threatened Lola into not telling, however, it seems more likely that this commanding girl who is in such a hurry to grow up, was  finally faced with something that she did not understand and that frightened her. That, combined with the guilt of losing her chastity and her utter confusion and the discrepancy of her and Marshall's ages, contributed to her lie. I am amazed that the only adult that commented on the possibility of two little boys inflicting these injuries on Lola, was Emily, whose comment was quickly swept aside by the note from the twins that they had run away. The doctor, at least, should have commented on these injuries in examining Lola, but perhaps he simply assumed that they had been inflicted upon her by her attacker in the last incident.

Finally, after Briony frightens away Lola's attacker, she does not wait for Lola to say who it really was. Instead Briony asks, "'It was him, wasn't it?"' to which Lola nods slowly and hesitantly, yes (155). Then Briony asks her to say his name, and before Lola has time to answer, Briony bursts out Robbie's name - the culprit that most made sense to her. It is only then that Lola sees a way to protect Marshall and becomes uncertain, finally retracting her first "yes it was him" in favor of, "I couldn't say for sure" (157). Their marriage at the end of the novel ultimately shows their feelings for one another. They wait a long time before marrying, keeping their relationship a secret until Lola was of age. I view this incident as an admittance of their feelings for one another, rather than Lola being guilted into making this commitment as a result of her rape. A relationship at Lola's young age was certainly illegal and fearing that Marshall would go to prison, Lola protected him by allowing the younger girl to go forth with her accusation of Robbie:

"Briony offered her a chance and she seized it instinctively; less than that - she simply let it settle over her. She had little more to do than remain silent behind her cousin's zeal. Lola did not need to lie, to look her supposed attacker in the eye and summon the courage to accuse him, because all that work was done for her, innocently, and without guile by the younger girl. Lola was only required to remain silent about the truth, banish it and forget it entirely, and persuade herself not of some contrary tale, but simply of her own uncertainty" (158).

This statement reinforces that Lola did lie, that she knew who her attacker was and out of feelings for Marshall, allowed Briony to accuse him. These events could perhaps be interpreted as the guilt that rapists often feel, however, Lola's marriage to Marshall seems to imply some level of feelings towards him before the alleged attack. Furthermore, the continued allusions to her maturity and eagerness to "grow up" could have led her to consent to sexual acts with Marshall, realizing only after how woefully unprepared she was for the implications of this sort of relationship. Regardless their actions - Lola's lie and Marshall's violation of an underage girl as well as their silence as Robbie was accused - are simply inexcusable and unforgivable.