Julian Barnes is fascinated with memory and how it can cruelly deceive or repress the most important details of a life. The Sense of An Ending is a first-person narrative that plays on these themes, and shows how a throw-away action in one’s youth can still cause hurt decades later.

The book is split into two parts, with narrator, Anthony Webster, first looking back briefly on his school years in the late 60s. He was a precocious teen, debating all that is ‘philosophically self-evident’ with his two closest friends. When Adrian joins the school, his own philosophical nature and mysticism catches the attention of the group and he’s accepted as one of their own. The group drifts as they leave for university, and Tony meets Veronica, his first girlfriend. After a messy break-up, Tony leaves the relationship behind and continues with his life.

Forty years later and Tony is divorced, retired, and has a daughter. His life has been unexceptional, but it has been comfortable. Yet he is thrown when he receives a letter from a solicitor stating that Veronica’s mother has left him £500 and an item in her will, which is being withheld by Veronica. Tony contacts her to try and claim the item, and begins a lengthy correspondence in which the consequences of a letter that he wrote in anger – one which he no longer remembers – are revealed to him.

The text wonderfully evokes the confusion felt when a forgotten memory is revealed, first in Tony’s shock and surprise, even disgust that he was capable of such an action, before giving way to remorse, and a desire to fix the pain. The story, although short, is generally well-paced and the nuances of emotion are brought out well. There is a slight question over the narrative, as the reader never knows which memories are faded by time, and which Tony has chosen to repress or not reveal; despite his seeming honesty, the truth may still be clouded. The constant pseudo-philosophy of the younger Tony and his friends can grate slightly as it is very contrived, particularly the discussion of suicide being the only true philosophical question, but this is the shorter section and there is a gentle mocking by the narrator at the naïveté of his younger self, even a slight cringing at this created façade of the intellectual public school boy.

This is an interesting study into the nature of remembering, and although concise, is an enjoyable read. At times it can be somewhat melancholic and pessimistic, but it is laced with an element of humour, albeit a dry, self-deprecating one, that helps to balance the tone. The reader is kept guessing as slowly the puzzle is put together, yet the ending is somewhat unexpected and perhaps even unlikely. Despite this, Julian Barnes has written an intelligent story that deals well with memory, ageing and loss, showing that even the clearest memories can be false.

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