Customer Reviews

Amsterdam

5 star:		(55)
4 star:		(91)
3 star:		(78)
2 star:		(76)
1 star:		(28)

 

 

Ordinarily I find McEwan's work thrilling, but was disappointed by Amsterdam. Although the writing is masterly and the plot keeps you turning the pages, the story is insubstantial and ultimately unsatisfying.

Who knows why it won the Booker Prize? Surely The Comfort of Strangers or The Innocent deserved it more. Other reviewers have suggested variously that the committee felt guilty about ignoring McEwan's previous work, or because the book featured an interplay between theme and character brilliant enough to justify the award. I interpret that to mean that the judges thought it clever that the novel's characters were shallow, and that the newspaper Vernon Halliday edited was shallow, and that the symphony Clive Linley wrote was derivative and fatally unvaried, and that ultimately the book itself was shallow, too, and so decided Amsterdam was a brilliantly self-referential piece of---I don't know, meta-fiction or something.

Maybe so, but some of the social commentary in the book reads like a magazine article rather than a novel, like a 2,000-word piece in a weekend supplement, and I expect more from McEwan: strong characters and images and themes that resonate in your head like a fascinating bad dream.

Amsterdam is light entertainment, a finely written but forgettable tale by a brilliant author who's capable of producing much, much better work.

McEwan's booker prize-winning novel traces the consequencesof a Machiavellian attitude towards work. Clive Linly a composer withan established reputation and Vernon Hailliday, editor of the struggle daily paper, The Judge, renew their former friendship at the funeral of their former lover, the larger than life forty-something year old Molly Lane.

There they meet George Lane, Molly's husband and another former lover Julian Garmony, the Foreign Secretary, who's despised by Molly's former lovers.

The novel traces the lives of the four men after Molly's funeral when they all face pinnacle moments in both their private and professional lives.

Amsterdam is a book without heroes. The characters fail to grab your sympathy, but this adds to the reader's curiosity as you try to unravel their true worth and nature. It's not a book about how the strong and ruthless survive but rather how obsession with work can turn into self-obsession and ultimately destruction as the books characters take personal desire over public responsibility.

The book's 196 pages make it more of a novella than a novel and some would argue that more time should have been given over to plot and character development. However an expansion of the books length could have faltered the quick tempo, that McEwan's rich language lends to the book, and the vagueness of the characters leads us to question rather than condemn them at the end, allowing for the books effect to linger long after the final page has been read.

This books quality has been questioned in comparison to other Booker winners but Amsterdam, a book so rich in dramatic irony should be judged on its own merits. This socio-political satire manages to examine such a thorny issue as human morality in a humorous and entertaining fashion and is a recommended read.

Ian McEwan is one of the more exciting authors writing in Britain today and his Booker Prize is well overdue. However, it is a shame he had to win it for what is by far his least accomplished novel.

Amsterdam concerns two friends who meet at the funeral of their former lover Molly Lane. One is a composer, trying to write the Millenium Symphony, whilst the other is a newspaper editor. Both enjoy great success and live the 'high life'. Upon seeing the undignified way in which their lover perished - after a long, debilitating, degenerative disease - they make a pact ensuring that each would end the other's life should it ever begin to slip away like Molly's did. A dignified death in a time where such deaths are few and far between.

Amsterdam is essentially a 'morality play' - at times funny, sad, and disturbing. It raises some complex issues, particularly the question of what it is that constitutes a life worth living. Unfortunately, however, it misses the mark, ending up shallow and lacking.

Kudos to Ian McEwan. He has finally won the coveted Booker. But how Amsterdam won when Black Dogs, The Comfort of Strangers and, most recently, Enduring Love (which wasn't even nominated) all failed is beyond me. I can't help but agree with the London Literati, who soon after the victory, labelled this one the Consolation Booker.

I've become a real fan of Ian McEwan this past year, and though I'm not completely through his catalog, I'm very impressed with his ability to have great ideas within a tight story. This may be his tightest story ... it moves very quickly, and the book can be finished in 3 to 4 hours.

The main characters, a composer and a newspaper editor, become embroiled in a political scandal that relates to the affair each has had with a recently deceased woman. Their friendship becomes strained, and the miscommunication that develops drives the story. The story moves quickly, and I disagree with those who dislike the ending -- it does work, at least for me.

I also think this book works as a good introduction to McEwan. Its spare style is indicative of his work. When you've finished this book, move on to Atonement or Enduring Love: both are excellent books.

A few general words about Ian McEwan. He pays great attention to the word choice in each sentence, but unlike some other post modern types, he has a real story with a real conflict. Among modern writers, there seems to be some dislike of plotting, but McEwan shows that you can write about interesting ideas and have a good story as well.

Two old friends meet at the funeral of charismatic, gorgeous Molly Lane. The fortyish Ms. Lane has died despicably of some unnamed degenerative disease that cruelly turned her vegetative. Molly, who had been mistress to both friends, was married at the time of her death to an immensely wealthy unlikable man. Vernon and Clive reminisced over their old friend Molly and comforted themselves with the thought she had never even liked husband George, unworthy that he was. But the bleak circumstances of Molly's death disturb the old friends with thoughts of their own mortality and cause them to enter into a peculiar pact.

McEwan's skill and craftsmanship make Clive and Vernon's thoughts and actions familiar to us, and the prose sparkles. Yet both men seem tinder dry, unengaged and hollow. Neither seemed more than his professional success; Clive an international composer---Vernon, a noted newspaper editor. The friends have a bitter falling out, and the crux of the novel, whether their friendship will be strong enough to overcome their differences plays out like a Greek tragedy.

On the down side, I never cared enough about either man to be more than academically interested in their rise and fall. The small book (193 pages) almost demands to be read in one sitting, as it is one continuous arc. Mr. McEwan doesn't fail in giving us a story, very well told, but I wished the vibrant Molly had not died before the tale began.
-sweetmolly-Amazon Reviewer

In response to the prior reviewer, a book about "silly, conceited people" is not necessarily a silly and conceited book; consider The Great Gatsby. Amsterdam is a clever book that reveals the conflicts of people who have either found or placed themselves in moral dilemmas. The central characters share the common denominator of having been lovers of Molly Lane who has recently died. They are brought together at her funeral, and as the story unfolds she seems to have been the only true and trustworthy moral compass among them. The book causes the reader to contemplate our contemporary values. What have our morals and ethics become at the end of the 20th century? Consider the "integrity" of our political "leaders"; the media's right to know vs. an individual's right to privacy; the value of human life vs. modern medical science. The characters in Amsterdam come across as opportunistic, self-centered, and morally indecisive. Do we feel more sympathy for Vernon,the editor who must publish something scandalous to keep his paper afloat or for Julian, the politician whose private indiscretion is made public? Do we feel any sympathy at all? Even Clive the successful composer is corrupted and looks away because he believes his musical genius is more important than another human being. (echoes of Wilhelm Furtwangler?) Is it more important to save the Mona Lisa, a timeless work of art, or a transient human life? Today's politicians take polls first to determine which decision or action will most likely keep them in power. Amsterdam considers all of these issues in less than 200 pages and concludes in a deliciously wicked ending.

I read "Amsterdam" after reading Ian McEwan's amazing "Atonement," and I think the key theme for both books is that bad things happen to relatively good people who commit moral wrongs, while good things happen to those who are innately or inherently bad. That's because good people are burdened with a conscience, a good person's Achilles' heel. After reading this book, I realized that no true "hero" is present in either book, unless you consider the wronged servant's son, Robbie, in Atonement, and Molly Lane, in Amsterdam. Of course, Molly appears in the book only as a reflection, since the story begins at her funeral. But she is the wronged innocent person in this story. All the former men in her life are not really evil, they are just opportunists and egoists. Worst of all, they are all rivals on some level, and that's what does two of them in. The composer Clive Linley and his editor friend Vernon Halliday actually have good intentions, but when the editor betrays Molly after her death (thanks to her now widower husband, George Lane), their intentions go awry, along with their friendship.

As in Atonement, the struggle between good and evil is chiefly internal. In Atonement, one of the main players is undone by a self righteous deed performed during a bout of heightened self importance. In Amsterdam, Clive and Vernon suffer the same fate, turning on each other when confronted by the immorality of their actions. And, as in Atonement, the more unsavory characters continue on their way, unburdened by any conflict of internal doubts. If Ian McEwan had written It's a Wonderful Life, George Bailey would have jumped into the river, after convincing himself to do something crookedly noble to replace the Savings and Loan's missing money and then having to face his conscience as a result; and at the very end, Mr. Potter would be counting his new money, having no conscience to make him second guess any actions on his part that helped lead to Bailey's death or the collapse of the Savings and Loan. "Amsterdam" is filled with dark humor, and a lesson that men of good conscience had best follow it. However, though "Amsterdam" won the Booker Prize and "Atonement" did not, I still believe "Atonement" is the far greater achievement.

In response to a prior reviewer, a book about "silly, conceited people" is not necessarily a silly and conceited book; consider The Great Gatsby. Amsterdam is a clever book that reveals the conflicts of people who have either found or placed themselves in moral dilemmas. The central characters share the common denominator of having been lovers of Molly Lane who has recently died. They are brought together at her funeral, and as the story unfolds she seems to have been the only true and trustworthy moral compass among them. The book causes the reader to contemplate our contemporary values. What have our morals and ethics become at the end of the 20th century? Consider the "integrity" of our political "leaders"; the media's right to know vs. an individual's right to privacy; the value of human life vs. modern medical science. The characters in Amsterdam come across as opportunistic, self-centered, and morally indecisive. Do we feel more sympathy for Vernon,the editor who must publish something scandalous to keep his paper afloat or for Julian, the politician whose private indiscretion is made public? Do we feel any sympathy at all? Even Clive the successful composer is corrupted and looks away because he believes his musical genius is more important than another human being. (echoes of Wilhelm Furtwangler?) Is it more important to save the Mona Lisa, a timeless work of art, or a transient human life? Today's politicians take polls first to determine which decision or action will most likely keep them in power. Amsterdam considers all of these issues in less than 200 pages and concludes in a deliciously wicked ending

When Molly Lane dies, her lovers gather at her funeral. Vernon Halliday is editor of the broadsheet newspaper The Judge and his best friend is Clive Linley, composer extraordinaire, commissioned to write a piece to mark the Millennium. Together, Vernon and Clive loathe Molly's husband, George. Also present is another of Molly's lovers, Julian Garmony, who just happens to be Foreign Secretary. Their lives are thrown into collision when it emerges that there are some rather embarrassing pictures of Garmony, taken by Molly. Should Vernon publish them despite Clive's protestations that to do so would spurn Molly's memory? And have they both become too preoccupied in their work?

'Amsterdam' won Britain's 1998 Booker Prize, despite many critics preferring McEwan's previous novel ('Enduring Love'). True enough, 'Amsterdam' starts very slowly, and seems dull by comparison. Vernon's career as an editor seems quite unconvincing, and could have done with more research. But McEwan has made all the chilli sink to the bottom... The end of the novel is delicious, and very unexpected. It may seem silly, but this is due to the large dose of Waughian black comedy. How truly do we regard our friends? Both Clive and Vernon seem like Frankensteins, unaware of the monsters they create in their work. So, did it deserve to win the Booker? The answer is undoubtedly NO. The CWA Gold Dagger would have been a more suitable award...

Amsterdam continues the persistent theme of Ian McEwan's fiction: the anguish of conflicting moral obligations. Should a composer, just beginning to sense the completion of the symphony that will define both himself and his career abandon his hard-won concentration to intervene on behalf of a woman who about to be raped?

In Amsterdam, the composer is Clive Linley, newly reunited with his old friend, Vernon Halliday, a newspaper editor. The men meet (once again) outside a London crematorium to say goodbye to Molly Lane, dead in her late forties of a painful wasting disease. A sexually generous woman, Molly had been the lover of both Clive and Vernon, as well as Julian Garmony, the Foreign Secretary, who is also present at the service for Molly.

Clive and Vernon, who were both unnerved by Molly's suffering prior to her death make a pact: If one of them develops symptoms that could suddenly leave him helpless, the other will secure the means for a peaceful euthanasia. As far as Clive and Vernon can tell, in Amsterdam, this presents no problem.

Predictably, the agreement between the two men quickly becomes murderous and the aftermath of Molly Lane's death serves to destroy an enduring friendship. One of the men is offered photographs Molly had taken of Foreign Secretary Garmony in transvestite clothing. Feeling he must publish them in order to save Britain from a reactionary politician and secure a higher good, he runs into trouble from the other man, who feels that publication would violate the trust Molly placed in them and would betray all she had stood for in life. Unfortunately, this man's ethics are also compromised, making him a less-than-reliable moral proponent.

Can these two men find a mutual meeting point? And at what cost? Although it is somewhat predictable and the characters are not fully developed (this is definitely a plot-driven novel), Amsterdam is still a chilling book and one that is filled with complex twists and turns that make it well worth the time spent.