"Children in Time·McEwan" original text

Summary of the work

One winter morning, Stephen took his 3-year-old daughter Kate to the supermarket for shopping. When he went to the checkout to pay, Kate was gone. The loss of his daughter was a huge blow to Stephen and affected his life. His relationship with his wife broke down and he became slack at work. Eventually Stephen and his wife separated. Living alone did not revive Stephen, but instead made him more depressed and decadent. But Stephen never stopped looking for his daughter. Two and a half years later, Stephen and his wife met and couldn't resist their need for each other and embraced. His wife had an unexpected pregnancy, and Stephen went to his wife's house when she was about to give birth. The two understood each other while waiting for a new life. After the birth of the new baby, Stephen finally emerged from the shadow of the past.

Selected Works

Kate is at that age where the rapid expansion of her language and the consequent elucidation of her ideas give her nightmares. She couldn't describe these nightmares to her parents, but it was clear that they contained familiar elements from storybooks: talking fish, large rocks holding towns, lonely monsters longing to be loved. That night she had nightmares again and again. Julie had to get out of bed several times to look after her, and was unable to fall asleep again until after dawn. Now she is sleeping. Stephen made breakfast and began to dress Kate. Although she was tortured in her sleep, she was still active and full of thoughts about sitting on a supermarket trolley and browsing the shops. There was unusual sunshine on such a cold day, which undoubtedly aroused her interest. For the first time, she obeyed and put on her clothes. She stood between his knees and he pulled her into winter underwear. Her body is so strong, so white and flawless. He lifted her up, buried his head on her belly, and pretended to bite her. Her little body smelled like milk, and also exuded the smell of a warm bed. She screamed and writhed away. When he lowered her to the ground, she begged him to do it again.

He buttoned her woolen shirt, helped her put on a thick sweater, and tightened her coarse trousers. She began to hum vaguely and carelessly. One moment it’s improvisation, the next it’s nursery rhymes or Christmas carols. He put her on the chair where he was sitting, put on her socks and tied her shoelaces. While he was squatting, she reached out and stroked his hair. Like many little girls, she has a strange protective mentality towards her father. Before they go out, she always checks to see if her father's clothes are all buttoned.

Stephen brought tea to Julie. She was still half asleep, hunched over, her knees drawn up to her chest. She muttered something, but the sound was lost among the pillows. He put his hand into her nightgown and gently stroked her lower back. She turned over and pulled his face to her chest. As they kissed, he tasted the thick metallic smell in her mouth that was characteristic of deep sleep. Outside the dark bedroom, Kate was still humming her collection of songs. For a while, Stephen even considered canceling the trip to the store and grabbing a few books for Kate to prop up in front of the TV. In this way, he could get into the thick quilt and lie next to his wife. They had made love since dawn, but only vaguely and not fully. She was teasing him now, watching his dilemma with amusement. He kissed his wife again.

They have been married for six years. This is a period of slow and subtle adjustment. The two people are gradually becoming more harmonious in terms of physical pleasure, family responsibilities, and necessary solitude. If any one of these aspects is ignored, the others will be weakened or confused. So as he gently pinched Julie's vagina between his thumb and forefinger, he was still thinking. After a night disturbed by nightmares and a morning trip to the mall, Kate was bound to be drowsy by noon. Until then, they would have some uninterrupted time. In the years of regret and sadness that followed, Stephen would always try to return to this moment, crawl back through the crevices of countless events, crawl into bed, and change his decision. But time - who knows, maybe not necessarily objective, but more limited by subjective thoughts - paranoidly denied this second chance. There is no absolute time in the world. His friend Sherma once told him that there is no independent entity, only our individual superficial understanding. Stephen decided to delay pleasure and succumb to duty first. He took Julie's hand and stood up. In the living room, Kate came towards him, holding a frayed toy donkey and talking loudly. He bent down and wrapped the red scarf twice around her neck. She stood on tiptoes to check whether his coat was buttoned properly. Before they even walked out of the door, their hands were already held together.

They seemed to have walked into a storm as soon as they went out. Main Street is a main traffic line leading to the south. The traffic on the street is fast and steady. This day shrouded in severe cold and high pressure will become a memory that will haunt him forever. The bright, sunny weather is like a mocking eye watching every detail. Under the sun, lying next to the steps was a crushed Coca-Cola can, with the straw still full and stuck in place. Kate went to pick up the straw, but Stephen held her back. There was a dog standing next to a tree in the distance. It seemed as if its body was translucent. Its waist and legs were trembling and it was defecating. There was a dazed and excited expression on its face.

The tree was an old oak, its bark looked freshly cut, its raised markings delicate and shiny, its dents hidden in the deepest shadows.

It’s only two minutes from home to the supermarket. Just take the zebra crossing across a four-lane highway. Next to where they were waiting to cross was a motorcycle sales office where riders from all over the world met. Men wearing shabby leather jackets, with watermelon bellies sticking out, were leaning on or riding on parked cars. Kate took out the finger she had been sucking in her mouth and pointed forward. The low sun illuminated her steaming little finger. Yet she couldn't find the words to describe what she saw. They finally crossed the street, and a large group of cars waited impatiently behind them, roaring away as soon as they reached the safety island in the center of the street. Kate looked for the children's passing counselor, and she recognized Kate every time. Stephen had to explain to her that today was Saturday and students were not in school, so she didn't come. There were a lot of people. Stephen held Kate's hand tightly and walked towards the supermarket entrance. Amid the cacophony of voices, calls and the clatter of cash registers at the counter, they found a cart. After Kate sat down comfortably in her seat, she laughed happily to herself.

Supermarket shoppers fall into two categories, as sharply defined as tribes or nations. The first type of people have their own houses, which are some modern Victorian flat-roofed houses in the area. The second type of people live in some local high-rise buildings and municipal housing. The first type of customers mostly buy fresh vegetables and fruits, brown bread, coffee beans, live fish from the counter, wine and spirits. The second category of customers buys canned or frozen vegetables, baked beans, prepared soups, sugar, cupcakes, beer, liquor, and cigarettes. The second group includes pensioners who buy meat to feed their cats and biscuits to eat themselves. There are also some young mothers who look thin and haggard due to overwork, with cigarettes clenched in their mouths. Sometimes they would get into a fit at the checkout and slap the kid on the ***. Most of the people in the first group are young couples without children, dressed in gorgeous clothes, and at worst they look a little rushed because they are in a hurry. There are also mothers who lead the family servants around the store, and fathers like Stephen who do their part by buying live salmon.

What else did he buy? Toothpaste, paper towels, detergent, good bacon, a leg of lamb, steak, green and red peppercorns, radishes, potatoes, tin foil, a liter of Scotch whiskey. As he reached for these items, who was standing there? As he pushed Kate down the aisles lined with merchandise, someone followed them. Who stood a few steps away from him when he stopped, pretending to look at a trademark, and then continued to follow him as soon as he moved? He thought back a thousand times, seeing his hands again, the shelves, the piled goods, and hearing Kate chatter. He moved his eyes as hard as he could, freeing them from the weight of time and opening them to the hidden figure at the edge of his vision. That person is always next to him or a little behind, controlled by weird desires, calculating the opportunity, or just waiting for the opportunity. But time kept his sight forever on the trivial things he was doing at that time, and the uncertain shapes around him floated away, decomposed, and became unrecognizable.

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing at the cashier. There are eight parallel cash registers. He got in the short line closest to the door because he knew the cashier was quick. He stopped the cart and there were three people in line in front of him. He turned around and lifted Kate out of her seat, no one lined up behind him. Kate was enjoying herself and was reluctant to move. She complained, hooking her feet on the seat. He had to lift her high to get her feet off the seat. He could see that she was a little irritated, which gave him a vague sense of satisfaction - a sure sign that she was tired. Kate's little struggle was over, and now there were only two people left in front of them, one of whom was getting ready to leave. He walked around to the front of the cart so he could place the item onto the conveyor belt. Kate was on the other side of the cart, holding on to its wide bars as if it were a cart. There was no one behind her. The man in front of Stephen was a hunchback paying for several cans of dog food. Stephen picked up the first item and placed it on the conveyor belt. He stood up straight, perhaps realizing at this moment that there was a man in a black coat standing behind Kate. But this was hardly a consciousness, but only the faintest suspicion born of hopeless recollection. The coat might be a dress, or a shopping bag, or it might even be pure imagination. He was busy with the things at hand and wanted to get them done as quickly as possible. He was simply not an alert man.

The person in front took the dog food and prepared to leave. The cashier had already started working, with the fingers of one hand dancing on the keyboard and the other hand taking Stephen's items. He took the salmon out of the cart, glanced down at Kate, and winked at her. She imitated him awkwardly, wrinkled her nose and closed her eyes. He put down the fish and asked the cashier for a shopping bag. The cashier reached under the shelf and pulled one out. He took the bag and turned around. Kate is missing. There was no one behind him in the line. He pushed the cart aside leisurely, thinking she might have ducked behind the counter. Then he took a few steps and looked around at the only passage she could reach.

Then he returned to where he was and looked around. On one side were rows of customers, on the other was open space, chrome turnstiles, and automatic doors leading to the sidewalk. A man in a coat may have been hurrying away from him, but at the time Stephen was looking for a 3-year-old child and immediately began to worry about the danger that vehicles on the street might pose to her.

This is a hypothetical, just-in-case worry. When he pushed his way through the crowd onto the wide sidewalk, he knew Kate wouldn't be there. Kate is not adventurous in this regard. She is not a wandering person. She's so gregarious. She prefers to be with the people around her. Besides, she is also afraid of traffic. He turned back and breathed a sigh of relief. She was still in the store, so there couldn't be any real danger. He expected to see her emerge from behind the line of customers at the checkout. In the first moment of worry, it is common to miss something because you are looking for it too eagerly and in a hurry. However, when he walked back, he felt nauseous, his throat tightened, and the soles of his feet felt annoyingly light. He ignored the cashier's impatient gestures and walked past all the counters, a chill rising to the top of his stomach. He set off at a measured pace - still wary of appearing foolish - down all the aisles, past piles of oranges, toilet rolls and soup stock. It wasn't until he returned to the starting point that he threw away all etiquette, took a deep breath, and shouted Kate's name loudly.

Now he took big steps, shouted his daughter's name loudly, walked heavily to the end of the passage, and walked towards the door again. Everyone around him turned to look at him. No one mistook him for a drunk who stumbled in to buy cider. His fear was too obvious, too strong, and the emotional heat filled the entire cold, shiny physical space, making it impossible to ignore. For a moment, all shopping activities around came to a halt. The handbaskets and carts were put aside, and people gathered around, talking about Kate's name. Somehow, everyone quickly learned that she was only 3 years old and was last seen at the checkout counter wearing green denim pants and holding a toy donkey. The mothers' faces tightened, alert. Several people had seen the little girl sitting in a cart. Some people still remember the color of her sweater. This nameless store has become a fragile and thin shell. Under it, people are constantly discussing, inferring, and remembering. A group of customers surrounding Stephen walked towards the door. Next to him stood the cashier girl, her face concerned and serious. Then there are the supermarket managers in brown, white or blue coats who are suddenly no longer warehouse managers, assistant managers or company representatives, but fathers, potential or real fathers. They were all out on the sidewalk now. Some people gathered around Stephen to ask or comfort him, while others - who were more helpful - scattered in different directions and went to the door of a nearby store to have a look.

Lost children belong to everyone. But Stephen was alone. His eyes passed through the faces of the kind-hearted people who kept approaching, and fell in the distance. They have nothing to do with him. Their voices did not reach him, and they blocked his view of Kate. He had to push them aside and swim through them to find Kate. He felt suffocated and couldn't think. He heard himself utter the word "abduction," and it was immediately carried to the outskirts of the crowd, to passers-by attracted by the commotion. The tall, nimble cashier, who looked so strong, was now crying. Stephen couldn't help but feel disappointed in her for a moment. As if summoned by the word he said, a white police car splattered with mud drove over and parked beside the roadside guardrail. The official appearance further confirmed the disaster, which made Stephen sick. Something rose in his throat and he doubled over. Maybe he was sick, but he didn't remember it at all. Next came the supermarket, this time the people accompanying him were selected in the spirit of order and propriety: a manager, a young woman who might be a personal assistant, a deputy manager, and two policemen . Everything suddenly went quiet.

They were walking quickly toward the back of the spacious floor. After a while, Stephen realized that he was not the leader, but the follower. The store has been cleared and there are no customers left. Through the plate glass window to his right, he could see a policeman standing outside taking notes, surrounded by customers. In the silence, the manager spoke quickly, half making assumptions and half complaining. That child—he knew her name, Stephen thought, but his position prevented him from calling it out—that child might have slipped away into the stockroom. They should have thought of this from the beginning. No matter how many times he advised his subordinates, the freezer door sometimes remained open.

They quickened their pace. A short, garbled voice came from a policeman's walkie-talkie. They went in through a door at the cheese section. Here, all masks are taken off. The plastic tile floor gave way to a concrete floor, with mica gleaming coldly on it. A few bare light bulbs hung high on the invisible roof. A forklift parked next to a mountain of crushed cardboard boxes. Stepping over a puddle of dirty milk, the manager hurried toward the open-door freezer.

They followed him into a low, narrow room. The two passages inside were hidden in half-darkness, and cans and boxes were piled messily on the shelves on both sides. In the center of the house, huge animal carcasses hung from meat hooks. They split into two groups and walked into the passage. Stephen followed the police. The air-conditioning smell smelled like frozen cans, and it went straight into the nose. They walked slowly, scanning the space behind the boxes on the shelves. One of the policemen wanted to know how long someone could stay in there. Looking through the gap in the big piece of meat between them, Stephen saw the manager glance at his subordinate. The young man cleared his throat and replied tactfully that as long as you kept moving, there was nothing to worry about. The hot breath coming out of his mouth immediately turned into clouds of steam. Stephen knew that if they found Kate here, she would be dead. The two groups met at the end of the passage, and no one was found. Stephen breathed a sigh of relief, but felt extremely empty. He detached himself in an active and measured way. If she was going to be found, then they could find her, because he was going to search with all his might. If she wasn't going to be found, then, sooner or later, he would have to face it rationally. But not now.

They walked out and walked towards the manager's office, suddenly feeling like they were in a tropical jungle. The policeman pulled out his notepad and Stephen began to tell his story. Both the narrator and the listener, who pay attention to details, have a very positive attitude. Stephen had controlled his emotions quite well, and he was even pleased with his concise expression and clever organization of relevant facts. He looked at himself and saw a man under great pressure, still acting with admirable self-control. In the detailed and accurate description of his daughter's clothing and appearance, he temporarily forgot about Kate. He also liked the dogged, routine questions of the police, and the smell of oil and leather from their polished holsters. They were united with him in the face of unspeakable difficulties. One of the officers relayed his description of Kate into a walkie-talkie, and a garbled response came from a nearby patrol car. It's all very reassuring. Stephen was almost elated. The manager's personal assistant spoke to him with a concerned tone that struck Stephen as inappropriate. She held his forearm and urged him to drink the tea she had brought. The manager was standing outside the door, complaining to a subordinate that child abductors always chose supermarkets to commit crimes. The personal assistant pushed gently with her foot and closed the door. With this sudden movement, a scent emanated from the folds of her plain clothes, and Stephen couldn't help but think of Julie. My mind suddenly went dark. He held the armrests of the chair and waited until his mind went blank again. He felt he had control again and stood up. The interrogation is over. The policeman also started to pack his notepad and stood up. The personal assistant offered to take him home, but Stephen shook his head vigorously.

Then, without any obvious interval or any connected events, he arrived outside the supermarket and stood on the zebra crossing with six other people, waiting to cross the street. He was carrying a full shopping bag, which reminded him that he hadn't paid yet. The salmon and tinfoil were free gifts as compensation. Passing cars on the street slowed down and stopped reluctantly. He crossed the street with other customers, trying to reconcile himself to the fact that the world was still going on as usual. He saw that the matter was actually very simple: he and his daughter were shopping together, her daughter was lost, and now he went home alone to tell his wife. The motorcyclists are still in the same place, with the same Coca-Cola can and straw in the distance. Even the dogs were still squatting under the same tree. As he was going up the stairs, he stopped beside a broken step. There was a loud roar in his head and a severe tinnitus in his ears. He stood there holding on to the railing, and the roar gradually disappeared. However, as soon as he moved around, his head was filled with chaos again.

He opened the front door and listened for a moment. The air and light in the room suggested that Julie was still sleeping. He took off his coat and was about to hang it on the clothes rack when his stomach suddenly tightened and a stream of acidic water - he thought it was black acidic water - which was the coffee he drank in the morning, came out of his mouth. He quickly closed his hands, spit it into his palms, and ran to the kitchen to wash his hands. Doing so stepped over Kate's discarded pajamas, but that didn't seem to be a problem. He walked into the bedroom without any thought of what he was going to do or say. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Julie turned over to face him without opening her eyes. She touched his hand. Her hands were so hot that it was almost unbearable. She murmured sleepily about how his hands were so cold. She took his hand and tucked it under her chin, still closing her eyes. She enjoyed the sense of security that his presence brought her.

Stephen looked down at his wife, a devoted mother to her children, a loving parent—these clichés seemed to take on new meaning and become more substantial. The words were useful, dignified, Stephen thought, and had stood the test of time. A small strand of curly black hair lay neatly on her cheekbone, just under her eye. She is a quiet, attentive woman with a lovely smile. She was passionately in love with him and willing to tell him so. He has built his life on their close relationship and has come to rely on it. She was a violinist and gave lessons at London's Guildhall.

She formed a string quartet with three other friends. They began to receive acting contracts and received minor acclaim in national newspapers. The future was once bright. His wife rubbed his wrist with her left hand, and he could feel the rough calluses on her fingers. He was looking down at her now as if from infinite distance, from hundreds of feet away. He could see the bedroom, the Edwardian flat, the sloping, crusty gutters and tarred roof of the rear extension, the chaos of south London, and the hazy arc of the earth. Julie looked like nothing more than a speck in the pile of sheets. He was still rising, faster. He thought that at least high up in the thin air, watching the city below arranged in geometric patterns, his emotions would not show and he could remain calm.

At this moment, Julie opened her eyes and saw his face. It took her a few seconds to read his expression. She immediately rolled over and sat up in bed, gasping and letting out a squeal of disbelief. For a moment, explanation was neither possible nor necessary.

(Translated by He Chu)

Appreciation

"Children in Time" is the representative work of the British writer McEwan. The novel uses the loss of a child as a clue to tell the story of a father's self-blame and regret after losing his beloved daughter, and finally finds hope in the birth of a newborn.

The writer tries to tell us through the novel that adults and children are interdependent and indispensable. This is not only reflected in the dependence of children on their parents, but also in the dependence of parents on their children. The story opens two years after Kate disappeared. Time may dilute a person's memory, or even make people forget the past completely, but it cannot make Stephen, a father, stop recalling his daughter, nor can it make him forget what happened on the day his daughter was lost.

The word "time" appears repeatedly in the novel, and its existence is relative. Stephen's time was taken away from him from the moment Kate disappeared. His memory was always brought back to the day Kate was lost. For him, time stopped on that day.

The author uses a daydream in a work meeting as an opportunity to vividly express Stephen's longing for his daughter, as well as his self-blame and regret. He described this daydream in a slightly warm tone: On a winter morning, his energetic daughter and his half-asleep wife seemed peaceful. It was an ordinary weekend, and Stephen went to the supermarket to buy something as usual. However, he lost his daughter in the supermarket. McEwan is trying to tell the story of the fact that misfortune can happen to people, and through no fault of their own, their lives are forever changed. Stephen was originally happy. He had a complete and happy family. But happiness is based on one simple fact: the existence of her lovable daughter Kate. It is children who make a family complete. It is children who give husbands and wives an additional responsibility for the family. It is children who maintain a happy life every day. Parents need their children as much as children need their parents. Fathers and mothers who have lost their children, and families who have lost their children, are no longer complete but broken. After Stephen lost his daughter, he could only find temporary satisfaction through daydreaming. And the short-term satisfaction brought by this memory is far less than the regret and pain that comes with it.

Time not only connects the past and present, but also connects parents and children, adulthood and childhood. The loss of his daughter not only makes Stephen live in the pain of memory, but also distorts Stephen's time. The novel describes him going to see his estranged wife, traveling through time and space while walking through wheat fields, and arriving at a tavern. He saw a young man and woman talking through the window of the tavern, and gradually realized that they were his parents, and he was not yet born at that time. He sensed something in their gestures that frightened him. It was his parents discussing whether to abort their unborn child, the unborn Stephen. Stephen and Kate, Stephen and his parents, two generations living in different eras are connected through the distortion and overlap of time. The author hints at the uncertainty of the future through his treatment of time. Even in the past, there are many unknown factors that affect the present and the future. The "child in time" refers not only to the lost Kate, but also to Stephen. In the flow of time, everyone was once a child. This is also reflected in Stephen's friend Charles - an adult who has returned to being a child. Charles was successful in his career, but he gave up everything and allowed himself to remain in the phantom of his childhood. In his eyes, childhood is endless and full of fantasy and happiness. Time seemed to work a miracle on him, bringing him back to his childhood.

Another characteristic of time is that it heals pain. The passage of time not only eased Stephen's pain, but also brought new life. Its passing made Stephen understand that Kate would not come back, and also made him understand that there was a new life that needed his care. Time becomes a kind of giving here, it brings hope. As Stephen's wife went through the labor pains, she truly felt that Kate was leaving, that the new child would not be the second Kate, that they would never be the same. They will love this child with the same love they have for Kate. A parent's love for their children becomes a force almost as powerful as time. Two people who could not forgive themselves were relieved because of love. At this point, the author has completed the interpretation of "children in time" and the elaboration of the mutual connections and ties between parents and children, adults and children.

McEwan is a writer who is passionate about life. He appreciates the details of daily life with his unique vision: the slightly lazy feeling in winter mornings, the sunshine in cold seasons, and the warmth of bed. The breath inside. These seemingly random words create the mundane atmosphere of the weekend, which contrasts sharply with the tragedy that follows, highlighting Stephen's ignorance of the impending doom. Stephen's regret for losing his daughter is also described in detail: the streets with endless traffic, the soda cans next to the steps in the sun, the dog next to the tree on the street... These details combine Stephen's regret for what happened on this day. It manifests itself in an almost forced recall manner. Detailed descriptions not only enrich the plot, but also make the characters full-bodied and give them real feelings. For example, the selected article describes Kate's actions of checking whether her father's clothes are buttoned before going out, and humming a tune that she doesn't even know why. The writer captures the children's seemingly endless energy, the girl's unique protective psychology towards her father, and her innocence.

The writer's writing is simple, restrained yet tense, and can fully reveal the characters' thoughts in just a few sentences. The words describing life situations are particularly real and intimate in the writer's writing. The husband's dedication to work and family, the wife's care for her children and her husband, and the children's curiosity about the world and life described in the novel can all make readers feel ** *Ming.

(Wu Fang)