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When you think of a Nobel Prize, the first association is difficult to "Don Juan". For no other reason but for the simple fact that the media coverage surrounding the transfer Nobel Prize hides an aura of unquestioned talent and dedication to the cause that it is difficult to popularize leave from both human baseness. That does not mean that the Nobel Prizes can not be a playboy, far from it. McEwan's greatness lies in its ability to demolish a very common place, that the scholar a little 'nerd who is dedicated to little else except to their studies and that a maximum was found in the life of a devoted wife who accompanies him as a figure second floor, for a character sketch of the most consistent I've read recently.
Michael Beard is a distinguished scientist who seems to live on income of that award granted in Sweden for over ten years before and that does receive a lot of correspondence and some charge more or less interesting. When we know, however, is on the precipice of his fifth divorce, and is plagued by a sore of love that even the protagonist himself is explained, as he had lived a life of his wife and a few of countless lovers.
With the succession of pages outlining hand in hand with extreme elegance, the intimate character, the one of us can not we tell ourselves sometimes: greed for all that life has to offer, from food to wine to women's studies, but also the fears, uncertainties and clumsiness, which in the case of this scientist may not resonate with a great rationality, extreme, which is used most often to keep up a credible castles of lies that only serve to always leave open all escape routes, through relationships, situations and, ultimately, himself. An approach that, however absurd it may seem this is a Nobel Prize, Beard will not take no for his professional life.
It is precisely when these castles of nonsense at the end turn out to be false, when one senses that, like sand, a wave will sweep them away, when cornered, and the many escape routes will be reduced to a single location required, is then that our protagonist will succeed, perhaps for the first time, to give up any defense and to feel within themselves what it is, indeed, love. The plot
genius would be nothing without the language of superfine McEwan, Susanna Basso makes, as always, masterfully.
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