(Published by Vintage)
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It is with reluctance that I tell you anything about this story. Ideally I would say “go out, buy it, read it, I think you may very well like it”.
But if I have to tell you anything I’ll tell you how it all begins.
Blue skies, green grass, a picnic, a bottle, two lovers – Joe and Clarissa – reunited after a six week work-related separation and a “helium balloon drifting dreamily across the wooded valley”. A pre-tragedy idyll. The balloon comes down in the field with the pilot caught up in the ropes, a child remains in the basket. Joe runs to the basketeers aid, as do four other men; two passing motorists and two farm labourers. They grab ropes and try to hold down the balloon containing the frightened child. The balloon rises off the ground and starts floating towards a steep decline. One by one the men drop to the ground causing the balloon to surge even higher leaving one man still clinging on to the basket with the child. He floats off into the distance, the remaining men and Clarissa watch him dangle from the rope and then drop to his death. (The child manages to bring the balloon down safely some miles away).
It is a life-changing tragedy but in both expected and unexpected ways. Joe and Clarissa are left reeling in its aftermath. Joe is faced with a situation that threatens to decimate his relationship, pushing him to his limit and leaves Clarissa doubting his sanity.
This strange and tragic event is the beginning of a psychologically taut and gripping tale. The reader is caught between believing the first person narrator and turning it on its head as an illusion of post-traumatic stress. We are compelled to keep going to find the point of truth and resolution. Running through the fabric of story is a weft of science, psychology, religion, human nature, culture and love.
This is a page-turner but not one of car chases and heists. Here, the gripping suspense comes from the depiction and understanding of human psychology, relationships and weaving a tapestry of words that are utterly fraught and believable. McEwan’s prose is both beautiful and stomach-muscle-tightening.
This is a cross genre book that will suit many types of reader; those who like thrillers, literature, psychological drama. Since reading it I have purchased a further four McEwan books. I look forward to diving into them.
So go out, buy it, read it, I think you may very well like it. 
Amsterdam by Ian McEwan
