The End of the Affair - Classic Novel by Graham Greene | Perfect for Book Clubs & Literature Lovers | Great for Reading at Home, Book Discussions & Gifts

Last night I came home from work, picked up this novel and read it to the very last page. It left a deep feeling of profundity in the air, and after setting it aside, I lay pondering about the existence of God, the concept of Catholicism and the author himself, who had converted to this faith. It was therefore eerie this morning to come to the office and read in the papers that Graham Greene had died the day before. A coincidence that I should be reading one of his books on the very day, where at last, he was perhaps going to meet this very God he believed in. - (April 4, 1991)* * *There are authors and books that come back to some of us through the years, and the late Graham Greene is a visitor here at times. There was no particular reason, or so I thought at the time, when recently I decided to read again his "End of The Affair" (1951). The story ends, or begins in London after WWII and Maurice Bendrix, the narrator is a writer who is gaining prominence among his readership. His journal, which he calls an account of hate, begins after he runs into an acquaintance, Henry Miles whom he hasn't seen in two years on a bleak wet night in January, and they have drinks together at a neighboring pub.Henry Miles, now a rising civil servant at the Ministry of Home Security, does not know that Bendrix had an intense affair with his wife Sarah for a few years, and that she suddenly left Bendrix without an explanation after one of their passionate encounters. After surviving a bomb explosion at his lodgings, he writes later in his journal: "She got up from the floor and reached for her clothes. I told her there's no point in your leaving. There must be an All Clear first". But Sarah has just made a promise to someone and he does not realize that she is now saying farewell.Two years later, Bendrix is now full of hatred for her and for Henry, having always despised the latter, and yet against the force of his will, he is anxious to get as much news of Sarah as he can from the deceived husband, whom he considers an impotent, bland and dull man. So it comes as a rude surprise when Henry tells him sadly over drinks: 'Jealousy's an awful thing'; a stinging irony that Henry for the first time now suspects Sarah, who has had affairs since their marriage, of seeing another man. Henry is sufficiently distressed, and at the risk of his impeccable reputation, about to approach a detective agency.Bendrix, in a renewed state of bitterness and jealousy, calmly offers to act on his behalf as a caring friend, and shoulder this unsavory burden by approaching the agency, pretending to be a betrayed lover of Sarah's, and ask for an investigation of his newest rival.While some readers might find this somewhat farcical if devious, Greene, with his masterful writing skills, is able to set the tone for his famous novel and portrays Bendrix in such an unflattering way, that he sounds both detestable and despicable: a difficult, complex and selfish man at odds with himself, riddled with doubts and insecurity, and so full of hatred and resentment for his lost love, that one remains sober in the reading of this affair. While he is able to describe himself accurately in his notes, he shows no intent of really wishing to change, and this in itself might be cause for an opinion of his character in itself. When we read later of this self-portrayal in the novel, we also understand why he feels at times that there is a demon at work inside himself.Graham Greene, by many accounts, was irritated to be labeled as a Catholic author, instead as an author who was Catholic, and some of his readers have been irritated in turn by his religious views, becoming disapproving at times in the process. When it comes to such a personal and sensitive matter as religion, I read carefully what the cold distant Father Crompton in this story has to say when he comes to dinner with Henry and Bendrix; the latter who finally breaks down into a rage at the end and causes a furor of a scene. But the priest remains implacable, holding his hand out to Henry and turning his back on Bendrix, as he leaves.In the second reading of this novel, I decided instead to follow the persona of Sarah in her foot-steps, for she reminds me of someone close to my heart, and Sarah is a woman with a vast capacity for love, who may never be able to find it. She has been attempting to fill an emotional void from the time of her birth, which often leaves her feeling lost in the desert. Bendrix is the only man she has truly loved, and yet she has often hated him for his inability to understand her, his relentless hounding and jealous accusations, his cruel undermining and mockery of her behavior, while attempting in his insecurity, to destroy them both in a final act of fear: Fear of losing the only happiness he has known, rather than await what he perceives as the inevitable death of their love.As for Sarah's own character, her love for Bendrix, the promise she made two years ago to someone else, the struggle to come to terms with herself and the one she is learning to believe and love, we learn more of the above from her journal which Bendrix has managed to secure, and then later much more when Bendrix takes Sarah's lost vacuous mother to dinner, who relays to his shock, what might be termed as the very beginning of The Affair.It was of deep interest for this reader to learn with compassion of the expressions of love and care that the men of import in Sarah's life have to offer her, and it is perhaps the humble but ever loyal detective, Parkis, for whom I maintain at this age a soft-spot, because he is the first to understand that Sarah is 'Good' through her many kindnesses, her aura, tenderness and impact on others.This was Graham's last romantic novel, laced with religious and autobiographical undertones, where the Dead may be the ones praying for the Living. If the pivotal figure in his short masterpiece, Maurice Bendrix, a devastated man and tormented soul, is finally able to find some inner peace and solace, some of the believers among us may feel that only one has the answer when it comes to the resolution of this final matter.For S. Curteis who once asked 'When will we ever see each other again?', an answer could be that one can always love and believe without seeing. This much we both now know is true.