How often do we tell our own life story? How often do we adjust, embellish, make sly cuts? And the longer life goes on, the fewer are those around to challenge our account, to remind us that our life is not our life, merely the story we have told about our life. Told to others, but—mainly—to ourselves.
-Julian Barnes, ‘The Sense of an Ending’.
What’s the story?
Tony, a 60 yr old divorcee living a cheerful life receives an envelope on a regular day which contains will of his ex-girlfriend’s mother who’s left him 500 pounds and two document (one containing a letter from Mrs. Ford and the other diary of his best friend Adrian, which is still in possession of his ex-girlfriend Veronica). Now Tony takes a nostalgic trip to find the reason for this special gift and plot a plan to get back his friend’s diary.
What do you think must have happened?
Da…that’s philosophically self-evident.
But it’s not.
This story will make you question your memory, teach you about the paradox of life, re-think about perception. It makes you realise how easily one may break hearts and how enigmatically someone may be attached to you.The author tells you about the wisdom granted with age and the memories we hold together to suit our triumph. You finally understand how history is written and who holds the pen.
I loved the narration and the literary flair of the author…Hhmm interestingly the book is also a 2011 Booker Prize Winner so I’m not the only one who’s flattered by the author’s prodigious style.
Throughout the book the author talks to you in first person, comically, like an old man he talks gibberish and let you know, he talks about unimportant character, bores you at a point and let’s you know, he admits to go off plot and yet you wouldn’t want to miss any sentence; coz every paragraph makes sense as you ascend.
And at last at the end you sense the sense of an ending.
TBH even though I’ve unraveled the mystery I would read the book again and again.
It’s one of those belletristic literature.
Bombay Reader 