One cannot read Lethem without sensing this solitude, its muted suffering, its desperate cheerfulness and claustrophobia, along with the other compensatory mechanisms employed to deal with it.
Jonathan Lethem’s opinions on others
Edward wants sex, Florence is sure she doesn’t. The situation is miniature and enormous, dire and pathetic, tender and irrevocable. McEwan treats it with a boundless sympathy, one that enlists the reader even as it disguises the fact that this seeming novel of manners is as fundamentally a horror novel as any McEwan’s written…