Esther Docherty takes a controversial stance on the ongoing debate between books and film…
When I first read Ian McEwan’s 2001 novel Atonement, it was a strange experience. In contrast to what I was used to, I was reading the book of one of my favourite films, not the other way around. I have always preferred books to films, so despite falling in love with Joe Wright’s 2007 film adaptation, I was fully expectant to once again witness the triumph of literature over film.
However, I was surprised to find that in comparison, I found the book dull and unengaging; I found myself admitting for the first time that I preferred a film adaptation to the original novel.
This is not to say the novel was awful, but it was missing what novels usually have over films. The first section of the four part novel was particularly wordy and dense, whereas in the film it was brought to life fantastically by the three main characters- Briony Tallis, Cecilia Tallis and Robbie Turner, played by Saoirse Ronan, Kiera Knightley and James McAvoy respectively. Wright follows McEwan’s narrative style by filming certain scenes, such as the sexually tense moment between Cecilia and Robbie by the fountain, from more than one perspective. It differs in that whilst McEwan writes the scene from the perspectives of all three characters, making all of their feelings clear, Wright shows it from Briony’s distant perspective as she watches through a window, and then from the fountain itself, where the conversation can be heard. This enables the audience to know Briony’s feelings- confusion and jealousy- but those of Cecilia and Robbie are left ambiguous as they are not dealt with separately. This highlights one difference in the emphasis of the film; more is given to the story of lovers. Perhaps this is one reason why many viewers are less sympathetic to Briony than readers, as in the book her thought processes and motives are given more explanation.
I don’t like admitting victory for the film, but every time I watch the film I am gripped by the tension, the sadness and the foreboding sense of what is to come. On the other hand, I haven’t picked up the book again since. Perhaps I should read it again.
Esther Docherty
exeposedev 