Throughout Atonement, characters put substantial stock into the use and meaning of individual words. This motif is especially associated with Briony, who fixates on the power that specific words can have on the people who read and hear them. Throughout the first part, the narrator alludes to certain words by actively avoiding using them. Combining the motif of forbidden words with personification and metaphor, McEwan reproduces children's view of language.
Briony's preoccupation with language is informed by her self-image, given that she first and foremost sees herself as a writer. Early in the first chapter, the narrator captures her fascination with the world-building made possible by language: "falling in love could be achieved in a single word—a glance." In the third chapter, she feels awe to think that "You saw the word castle and it was there." Over the course of the novel, Briony learns that words can have much more dire consequences. They can inspire fear, they can turn people against their friends, and they can even convict innocent people. In the third part, she thinks about how "the words that had convicted [Robbie] had been her very own."
The novel's first forbidden word is "divorce," an "unthinkable obscenity" that the Quincey children fear. In the fifth chapter, Pierrot and Lola freeze when Jackson says that they can't go home because their parents are going through a divorce: "The word had never been used in front of the children, and never uttered by them." As the oldest of the siblings, Lola attempts to discipline the boys' language use: “You will never ever use that word again. D’you hear me?”
The novel's second, and much more significant, forbidden word appears in the vulgar letter draft that Robbie accidentally sends to Cecilia via Briony. As he struggles to articulate himself in the eighth chapter, he writes the following sentences on a whim: “In my dreams I kiss your cunt, your sweet wet cunt. In my thoughts I make love to you all day long.”
As Cecilia reads the letter, she is struck by the "unit of meaning whose force and color was derived from the single repeated word." Similarly, Briony feels as though she has "seen an unspeakable word." Already, the actual word ("cunt") has been replaced by the label "word." This sets the standard for the way the narrator refers to the letter in the rest of the novel, evoking the shock that Briony and Cecilia felt when reading it. The letter is reduced to a single word, and the specific word is reduced to the general linguistic category to which it belongs.
In the 10th chapter, McEwan uses personification and metaphor to represent Briony's distress and disgust. The word dances through her thoughts like "a typographical demon, juggling vague, insinuating anagrams." Just like the Quincey children know that their parents are going through a divorce despite the label never having been used in their presence, Briony has no doubt about what the word references, even if "she had never heard the word spoken, or seen it in print" and "no one in her presence had ever referred to the word’s existence." This is not only because of the context, but also because she feels that "the word was at one with its meaning, [...] almost onomatopoeic." This rich passage shows that Briony's preoccupation with individual words is not only informed by her writerly disposition, but also also by her intermediary position between childhood and adulthood. Her fear of the body and uncertainties regarding sex manifests itself as a fear of language itself.
Over the course of the novel, particularly the first part, McEwan describes the world through the perspective of young people. In certain instances, the narrator abstracts ideas and concepts that children do not fully understand. McEwan describes one such concept—divorce—through layers of metaphor and personification in order to simulate how children might conceive of it. Through this figurative language, divorce becomes both a forbidden word and an abstract idea.
Divorce plays an important role in the first part, as Lola, Jackson, and Pierrot come stay with the Tallises because their parents, Hermione and Cecil, are splitting up. Nevertheless, this circumstance goes unnamed for the children—no one has ever uttered the word "divorce" out loud around them. Yet, even if the Quincey children have yet to receive a direct and thorough explanation, they still have a sense of what is going on. When adults neglect to use language in clear ways to help children make sense of confusing ideas or challenging situations, children often rely on imagination or storytelling.
All three of the Quincey children are horrified when Jackson utters the word for the first time. McEwan divides their experience of the word into several layers. First, they confront the word simply in terms of its sound: "The soft consonants suggested an unthinkable obscenity, the sibilant ending whispered the family’s shame." Then, they understand the word for its effect rather than for its meaning: "for all he could tell, saying it out loud was as great a crime as the act itself, whatever that was." As Lola attempts to reprimand her little brother, the word "divorce" is not repeated. Rather, she refers to it as "that," "that word," and "the word." When Jackson threatens that he will "tell The Parents" if Lola hits him, the narrator metaphorically describes his invocation of their parents as "a ruined totem of a lost golden age." In this metaphor, divorce is implicitly understood as a destructive force that destroys relics of history—and empties them of the influence they once held. The Quincey children abstract divorce to manage their fear of it.
Although it doesn't impact her directly, Briony also conceives of divorce through abstraction. Situated on the sidelines of the upheaval in her cousins' lives, Briony sees them as "refugees from a bitter domestic civil war." Although this metaphor is rather dramatic, the narrator underlines that Briony is not all that touched by their predicament. In a second metaphor, the narrator describes divorce as "a mundane unraveling that could not be reversed." Briony, who is fixated on how the people and events around her might contribute to her writing, finds this mundane unraveling to offer "no opportunities to the storyteller." She sees storytelling as a way to instill order and lacks interest in divorce because it belongs "in the realm of disorder." The narrator also uses personification to capture Briony's conception of divorce, stating that "it showed an unglamorous face of dull complexity and incessant wrangling." Briony's limited empathy for her cousins is partly informed by her view of divorce only through figurative terms.
In the novel's first part, the Triton fountain—an allusion to Bernini's Fontana del Tritone in Rome—consistently exists in the background. McEwan uses personification and simile to develop the fountain motif, imbuing it with an ambiguous presence.
In the first part, the narrator regularly mentions the fountain in descriptions of the estate and characters' movements around it. As a result, the fountain witnesses both the everyday monotony of the Tallises' lives and the confused chaos that leads to the novel's climax. Initially, it symbolizes the family's aspiration for continuity and wholeness. In the third part, however, it becomes apparent that the fountain is easily broken—and moreover that its destruction doesn't matter much to anyone.
It is telling that the Tallis family chooses to have a replica of a 17th-century Roman statue in their yard. Depicting a Greek sea god frequently alluded to in both classical and modern literature, the fountain is a way for them to emphasize their worldliness and culture. However, the first detailed description of the fountain reveals that the sculpture of Triton, though muscular, emanates neither power nor culture.
The muscular figure, squatting so comfortably on his shell, could blow through his conch a jet only two inches high, the pressure was so feeble, and water fell back over his head, down his stone locks and along the groove of his powerful spine, leaving a glistening dark green stain.
In this passage, McEwan's personification serves to mock Triton. Despite its classical allure, the fountain is relatively pathetic. The low water pressure prevents the fountain from doing its job, which makes Triton seem feeble. Rather than a rushing flow of water, the main effect of the fountain is a stain. However, despite failing to exude power, it is still a nice addition to the estate—the narrator writes that Triton and his dolphins are "beautiful in the morning sunlight."
The narrator suggests that Cecilia, who otherwise seems bothered by her familiar surroundings, likes the fountain:
As she stepped out into the brightness, the rising scent of warmed stone was like a friendly embrace. Two swallows were making passes over the fountain.
The simile, comparing the smell of the fountain to a hug, indicates that the Tallises take pleasure in the fountain. Although it is somewhat dysfunctional, there is nevertheless something reliable to the fountain's continued presence—much like the Tallis family itself.
Many years later, however, it turns out that the fountain was not only fragile but also unimportant. In the third part, Emily tells Briony about the destruction of the fountain in a letter.
The oldest of the children, a thirteen-year-old boy who looked no bigger than eight, had got into the fountain, climbed onto the statue and snapped off the Triton’s horn and his arm, right down to the elbow.
During the war, the Tallises host a number of evacuees from London in their home. As Emily explains in her letter, one of the children of the evacuated mothers breaks off Triton's arm. Although Jack believes that the fountain can be fixed, the part goes missing. Nothing more comes of the situation.
In the same letter, Emily reveals that Betty accidentally shattered Uncle Clem's Vase. The destruction of the fountain and the vase, both symbols of the Tallis family, reveal the emptiness of the family's apparent wholeness and continuity. Within a few short years, after the children have grown up, the members of the family are splintered and estranged in various ways. Alongside this, things that mattered a lot to them collectively come to lose their significance.
In the novel's first part, the Triton fountain—an allusion to Bernini's Fontana del Tritone in Rome—consistently exists in the background. McEwan uses personification and simile to develop the fountain motif, imbuing it with an ambiguous presence.
In the first part, the narrator regularly mentions the fountain in descriptions of the estate and characters' movements around it. As a result, the fountain witnesses both the everyday monotony of the Tallises' lives and the confused chaos that leads to the novel's climax. Initially, it symbolizes the family's aspiration for continuity and wholeness. In the third part, however, it becomes apparent that the fountain is easily broken—and moreover that its destruction doesn't matter much to anyone.
It is telling that the Tallis family chooses to have a replica of a 17th-century Roman statue in their yard. Depicting a Greek sea god frequently alluded to in both classical and modern literature, the fountain is a way for them to emphasize their worldliness and culture. However, the first detailed description of the fountain reveals that the sculpture of Triton, though muscular, emanates neither power nor culture.
The muscular figure, squatting so comfortably on his shell, could blow through his conch a jet only two inches high, the pressure was so feeble, and water fell back over his head, down his stone locks and along the groove of his powerful spine, leaving a glistening dark green stain.
In this passage, McEwan's personification serves to mock Triton. Despite its classical allure, the fountain is relatively pathetic. The low water pressure prevents the fountain from doing its job, which makes Triton seem feeble. Rather than a rushing flow of water, the main effect of the fountain is a stain. However, despite failing to exude power, it is still a nice addition to the estate—the narrator writes that Triton and his dolphins are "beautiful in the morning sunlight."
The narrator suggests that Cecilia, who otherwise seems bothered by her familiar surroundings, likes the fountain:
As she stepped out into the brightness, the rising scent of warmed stone was like a friendly embrace. Two swallows were making passes over the fountain.
The simile, comparing the smell of the fountain to a hug, indicates that the Tallises take pleasure in the fountain. Although it is somewhat dysfunctional, there is nevertheless something reliable to the fountain's continued presence—much like the Tallis family itself.
Many years later, however, it turns out that the fountain was not only fragile but also unimportant. In the third part, Emily tells Briony about the destruction of the fountain in a letter.
The oldest of the children, a thirteen-year-old boy who looked no bigger than eight, had got into the fountain, climbed onto the statue and snapped off the Triton’s horn and his arm, right down to the elbow.
During the war, the Tallises host a number of evacuees from London in their home. As Emily explains in her letter, one of the children of the evacuated mothers breaks off Triton's arm. Although Jack believes that the fountain can be fixed, the part goes missing. Nothing more comes of the situation.
In the same letter, Emily reveals that Betty accidentally shattered Uncle Clem's Vase. The destruction of the fountain and the vase, both symbols of the Tallis family, reveal the emptiness of the family's apparent wholeness and continuity. Within a few short years, after the children have grown up, the members of the family are splintered and estranged in various ways. Alongside this, things that mattered a lot to them collectively come to lose their significance.