Allegedly. I admire (and envy) McEwan as a writer, but don’t think of him as a funny man, even in comparison to an old devil like Kingsley Amis, and doubt that his novel will turn out to be hilarious, despite this inspiring scene:
The impetus for this novel came in 2005 when he was part of an
expedition of artists and scientists who spent several weeks aboard a
ship near the North Pole.
"While I was on board I soon realized that the boot room, where we all
changed our clothing and left our shoes, had turned into a scene of
social chaos," McEwan said, describing how the eminent scientists, who
were gathering down the hall to talk earnestly about the future of
humankind, were also capable of stealing each others’ footwear and
regarding their colleagues with deep distrust.
"I realized that it’s all about human nature. The way to write about climate change is through writing about human nature."
Well, can’t argue with that. But McEwan’s characteristic seriousness comes through in another piece in the Guardian, in which he looks at the apocalypse through the "posthumous irony" of Susan Sontag.
Oy. If we’re going to be serious, with all due respect to the hard-working and brilliant Mr. Ewen, give me The Road.
Kit Stolz 