How can a novelist achieve atonement when, with her absolute power of deciding outcomes, she is also God? There is no one, no entity or higher form that she can appeal to, or be reconciled with, or that can forgive her. There is nothing outside her. In her imagination she has set the limits and the terms. No atonement for God, or novelists, even if they are atheists. It was always an impossible task, and that was precisely the point. The attempt was all.
In Ian McEwan's "Atonement," the question arises about a novelist's capacity for atonement within the dominion of her narrative power. With the ability to dictate every outcome, the novelist also embodies a god-like authority without any greater power to turn to for reconciliation or forgiveness. This unique position creates a paradox; as she crafts her characters' fates, there exists no external entity that can offer absolution for her actions or decisions.
The challenge becomes one of self-imposed limits and terms within her imagination. The pursuit of atonement remains an unattainable endeavor for both authors and deities, regardless of their beliefs. This difficulty reflects the core of the narrative's exploration: the journey toward atonement may be fraught with impossibility, yet the very act of striving for it carries profound significance. Ultimately, it is the effort and struggle that define the quest for reconciliation.
