The first chapter in this novel is one of the most immediately gripping pieces of writing I have ever read. The sickening inertia of the events and the narrator's constant diversions, which suggest an unwillingness to relay the horror he has experienced, all come together brilliantly. Fastidious and poetic description convincingly evoke a very mundane and believable tragedy. After reading it, I was convinced that McEwan had experienced something similar. Could something so vivid really be narrative invention?

Unfortunately, after this promising beginning, McEwan's narrative quickly skews toward the uninteresting, unlikely and puerile. If it were not for McEwan's prose, which is often lovely, I would have abandoned this book.

Still, I would recommend seeking out this novel, even if it is just to sneakily read the first chapter while you're pretending to browse at your local bookshop. When you're done, you're not going to miss anything good by setting it back on the shelf.