Rating: 
Summary: Down the Labyrinthine Ways
Review: "I FLED Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter". (Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven) On a damp January evening in 1946, Maurice Bendrix, a novelist, meets an old friend, Henry Miles, a senior civil servant, on Clapham Common. Miles confides to Bendrix that he suspects his attractive young wife, Sarah, of having an affair, and that he has considered having her watched by a private detective. Miles is unaware that Bendrix himself was Sarah's lover for several years, although she broke off the affair without explanation in 1944. Bendrix, who has been tortured by jealousy ever since Sarah ended their affair, and who suspects her of having abandoned him for another lover, instructs a private detective himself to watch her and to obtain her diary. From this he discovers that the truth is stranger than he had thought. During a bombing raid, Bendrix was knocked unconscious when his house was struck by a V1 flying bomb. Believing him to be dead or fatally injured, Sarah (who was baptised as a Catholic but has never previously had any religious faith) finds herself making a vow that she will end her relationship with him if God will let him live. When she realises that Bendrix has only suffered minor injuries, Sarah believes that she must fulfil what she has vowed, even though does not know whether she believes in God. Several of Greene's other novels deal with the moral dilemmas confronting those who are already believing Catholics. Characters such as the "whisky priest" in The Power and the Glory and Scobie in The Heart of the Matter can be seen as being in search of a God in whom they believe, yet who seems to elude them. In The End of the Affair, by contrast, God is in search of Sarah, although she attempts (like Francis Thompson in his poem) to flee from Him. She is very much in love with Bendrix, and her marriage to the dull and cold Henry is a dead, loveless one. She therefore tries to convince herself that God does not exist, believing that, if there is no God, a vow made to Him is not binding on her, and that she can resume her affair with Bendrix with a clear conscience. She befriends Richard Smythe, a militant atheist whom she hears making an impassioned diatribe against religion from a soapbox on the common. In a series of meetings he lectures her on the falsity of all religious doctrines, but these have the opposite effect to that intended. The more Smythe tries to persuade her (and the more she tries to persuade herself), the more she comes to believe in God's existence. Moreover, she realises that Smythe himself (whose rage against God arises from his having been born with a disfiguring birthmark) is, in his heart, a believer. True, his is an angry and resentful belief, but anger and resentment are meaningless unless there exists a being against whom they can be directed. The geometry of the novel is more complex than a love-triangle or even than the love-quadrilateral which was suggested by another reviewer. A more accurate analogy would be with an irregular, and variable, pentagon. The five corners of the pentagon are Sarah, Henry, Bendrix, Smythe (who falls in love with Sarah) and God, separated by metaphorical distances that shrink or lengthen as the novel progresses. All the characters in this novel are flawed, but none is unsympathetic. Greene (both in this novel and more generally in his work) has a great talent for eliciting sympathy and understanding for his characters despite (or because of) their human weaknesses. This is true of the three main characters, Bendrix, Sarah and Henry, and also of lesser ones such as Smythe and Parkis, the private detective retained by Bendrix, who retains a certain dignity despite the seedy work in which he is employed. (Parkis was memorably portrayed by John Mills in the otherwise unmemorable 1955 film of the book; I have not seen the more recent film). It is because the characters are sympathetically portrayed that we can believe in their spiritual journey, as not only Sarah, but also Bendrix and Smythe, are drawn reluctantly towards God. This is a short novel, of less than 200 pages, but in that short space Greene is able to explore in some depth not only the complexities of human emotions (Thompson's phrase about "labyrinthine ways" seems particularly apt) but also philosophical issues relating to faith and the existence of God. An excellent book.
Rating: 
Summary: A story has no beginning... or end?
Review: A book for anyone who has ever been left so heartbroken and frustrated that they can't even speak without launching into a bitter lament against such superficial feelings as love, faith and devotion. Greene's genius was always his ability to create lasting and believable characters that jostled with issues that were central to the writer, but also, could be understood and re-interpreted by the reader. In The End of the Affair, it is his own sense of heartbreak following a real-life affair he began during the war that acts as the central crux of the emotional and heartbreaking story, that is here, taken further by elements of fictitious fantasy, religious guilt and what must be one of the greatest uses of a self-referential narrative arc ever developed in post-war-literary history.
Here, Greene recasts himself as the dolorous writer Bendrix, who, without even realising it until it is too late, has fallen into a passionate and illicit affair with Sarah, the wife of his meek (and perhaps impotent) friend and associate Henry. Greene juggles the perspectives so that each of this troika get to express their feelings (which are actually the varied conscious voices of the author), in order to further the story, as well as acting as something of an essay into infidelity, obsession, guilt and bereavement. The story could have easily fallen into the realms of melodrama, prefiguring those turgid disease-of-the-week films like Love Story (and so on), but Greene is able to break down the melancholy with elements of a detective story, with Bendrix involving himself in unravelling an affair that turns out to be nothing but an after shock.
There are also elements of black comedy, an intelligent analysis of catholic-angst and an interesting use of character perspective, as Greene changes the view of the story mid-way from Bendrix to Sarah (then later, back again!) in order to tell the story from both points-of-view... a device that allows Greene to look at the two disparate sides of the tale, and also, to further develop the subtle nuances of the characters. The writing is fantastic throughout, with Greene ably conjuring the decaying embers of Post World War II London; whilst the blitz-set love scenes burn with a passion and intensity that few British writers (of Greene's generation) could equate (for more genius, see Brighton Rock!).
The End of the Affair is a great book that still manages to convey that all-important sense of loss, guilt and sadness with a vitriol that seems fierce enough to tear through a brick wall, whilst screaming in the face of pious notions of reminisce and forgiveness (in a typically 50's 'very-English' sort-of-way, of course). As others have said before, certain notions in regards to the politics and sociology of the piece have dated in the decades that have passed since the book's first publication, but this is hardly cause for despair. The book's reason for being has always been about the relationship between the three characters, the notions discussed above and the emotional connection created between the story, the characters and the reader. On these counts, The End of the Affair is a relevant today as it was when first created.
Rating:
Summary: Radiant Hope in the Midst of the Desert
Review: A Catholic friend of mine recommended this book as a quick but wonderful weekend read. Although the book is clearly titled "The End of the Affair," I little anticipated what I was getting into. Indeed, this book explores the winding down of a passionate affair between Bendrix (your main narrator) and Mrs. Sarah Miles. As much as I favor modern British literature, reading a tormented, neurotic man's twisted thoughts was not exactly my idea of a great weekend read. For the first half of the book, I greatly doubted my friend's reading recommendations. However, like in "Till We Have Faces," I found the second half of the book more than justified the first half's wanderings. Greene uses much of the first half of the book to set the stage; he introduces the main characters, their incredibly complex relations, and their current miseries. In light of the second half of the book, I have a heightened appreciation of the first half. This understood, the thing I truly admire in the first part is Greene's ability and willingness to capture how multi-faceted our feelings towards others often are. Novelists often tritely portray a woman's husband and her lover as bitter enemies; Greene does no such thing. Love and hate are always shown as polar opposites, but Greene shows how they are two sides of the same coin. Bendrix (and thus Greene) dwells on the characters' glaring flaws of jealousy, passivity, hypocrisy, infidelity, and vast emptiness, and yet a careful reader is able to discern that these characters are truly good. I have no idea how he does this except for the sympathy that comes from extreme transparency. I don't want to give away what happens towards the end; indeed, it is so complex that I don't know that I could relate it if I tried. However, as mentioned in other reviews, there is essentially a gravitational pull towards God despite the fact that none of the characters really believe in God. This book is in no way preachy as nothing - and I mean NOTHING - is preached to the reader as to how he should think, feel or believe. The author simply shows that through all the swirl of action and emotion, the one thing that continues to make sense is the existence and love of God. And the presence of this God suddenly hallows the characters that you instinctively knew were good all along. Greene's exploration and approach to such faith are completely brand new to me. He might have a distinct Catholic perspective or he might just revel in God's love for the realistically sinful man. Either way, I was left at the end with a strong sense that Greene was a master craftsman. He was such a craftsman that I didn't catch on to how he pulled off all he was able to pull off by the end. It's been awhile since I've read such a truly well-written masterpiece, and I am thankful to have read this one.
Rating:
Summary: Radiant Hope in the Midst of the Desert
Review: A Catholic friend of mine recommended this book as a quick but wonderful weekend read. Although the book is clearly titled "The End of the Affair," I little anticipated what I was getting into. Indeed, this book explores the winding down of a passionate affair between Bendrix (your main narrator) and Mrs. Sarah Miles. As much as I favor modern British literature, reading a tormented, neurotic man's twisted thoughts was not exactly my idea of a great weekend read. For the first half of the book, I greatly doubted my friend's reading recommendations. However, like in "Till We Have Faces," I found the second half of the book more than justified the first half's wanderings. Greene uses much of the first half of the book to set the stage; he introduces the main characters, their incredibly complex relations, and their current miseries. In light of the second half of the book, I have a heightened appreciation of the first half. This understood, the thing I truly admire in the first part is Greene's ability and willingness to capture how multi-faceted our feelings towards others often are. Novelists often tritely portray a woman's husband and her lover as bitter enemies; Greene does no such thing. Love and hate are always shown as polar opposites, but Greene shows how they are two sides of the same coin. Bendrix (and thus Greene) dwells on the characters' glaring flaws of jealousy, passivity, hypocrisy, infidelity, and vast emptiness, and yet a careful reader is able to discern that these characters are truly good. I have no idea how he does this except for the sympathy that comes from extreme transparency. I don't want to give away what happens towards the end; indeed, it is so complex that I don't know that I could relate it if I tried. However, as mentioned in other reviews, there is essentially a gravitational pull towards God despite the fact that none of the characters really believe in God. This book is in no way preachy as nothing - and I mean NOTHING - is preached to the reader as to how he should think, feel or believe. The author simply shows that through all the swirl of action and emotion, the one thing that continues to make sense is the existence and love of God. And the presence of this God suddenly hallows the characters that you instinctively knew were good all along. Greene's exploration and approach to such faith are completely brand new to me. He might have a distinct Catholic perspective or he might just revel in God's love for the realistically sinful man. Either way, I was left at the end with a strong sense that Greene was a master craftsman. He was such a craftsman that I didn't catch on to how he pulled off all he was able to pull off by the end. It's been awhile since I've read such a truly well-written masterpiece, and I am thankful to have read this one.
Rating: 
Summary: More spiritual than romantic
Review: Graham Greene's "End of the Affair" begins with an interesting premise. In war-torn London, married Sarah Miles has an adulterous affair with the writer Maurice Bendrix, but suddenly she leaves him without explanation. Later, Bendrix befriends Sarah's dull husband Henry. When Henry confides his suspicion that his wife is cheating on him, the jealous Bendrix hires a private detective to discover why Sarah left him and who has taken his place. Tracking Sarah to a mysterious meeting with another man and gaining access to her diary, Bendrix finds that his rival is very tough competition indeed. In spite of the interesting build-up, however, the plot then wanders off in several directions at once, and the result is a hodgepodge of side stories featuring the private detective and his son, the relationship between Bendrix and Henry, the spiritual awakening in Sarah's life, and a series of miracles that impact the lives of the novel's characters.
This story has semi-autobiographical overtones. Greene, a Catholic who pondered the relationship between adultery and religious belief, wrote a series of novels concerning God, faith, and human and divine love. This one is the culmination of that series, where God takes an active role in people's lives. It has also been postulated that the illicit affair between Bendrix and Sarah was modeled after one of Greene's own wartime love affairs.
There are some interesting conjectures about the nature of love and hate that provide food for thought, although Greene's repetitious phrases soon became tedious, with such dialogue as "If I hate her so much as I sometimes do, how can I love her? Can one really hate and love? Or is it only myself I really hate?" I found none of the characters in this story likeable or believable. The men were are weak-willed and indecisive. Sarah, who called herself "a phony and a fake," did not seem like the kind of woman a man would become obsessed with. Her personality was a conflicting mix of saintliness and indifference. The relationship between Bendrix and Sarah was not memorable, and there seemed to be more contention between them than love. Although the book is short, it seemed to continue beyond the logical ending point, and after a while I was more interested in the story ending than in the end of the affair. If you are looking for a novel that addresses faith and the nature of God, you will enjoy this book. But if you are looking for a good love story, look elsewhere.
Eileen Rieback
Rating:
Summary: Hating or Loving Sarah--and God
Review: Greene's introspective novel relates the personal anguish and the interplay among the characters in an intensely romantic triangle. Set in postwar London this story chronicles the desperate love affair between Maurice Bendrix--a jealous novelist--and Sarah Miles, the wife of a mild-manned civil servant. Readers must judge if she is faithful to her lover or too free with her body and her heart, for such painful issues torment the protagonist. Unfolding in greater intimacy through
the use of the first person, THE END OF THE AFFAIR is not written in strict chronological order. We bounce between the present and war-torn London, with little literary help as to the time frame. The author even presents one scene from the perspective of both characters. Also several chapters consist of diary entries, which serve to clarify--or further confuse--the past for the tormented novelist. Bendrix is somewhat passive, though he can be goaded into action, especially when it comes to playing the sleuth about Sarah's latest affair. It is naive, trusting Henry, however, who seems content to suffer in silence. Through curious twists of fate the two men--once rivals--bond over Sarah against the true common enemy: God. While not overtly religious this novel reflects a strong undercurrent of the Man versus God conflict. What did Sarah really want in the end? How best can her adoring men respect her wishes? After having made a desperate vow to God to spare Maurice's life, Sarah is torn between resentment
of God (for denying her feminine fulfillment in the desert of her life), and a secret desire for spiritual intimacy with her creator. Can a childhood baptism into Catholicism suddenly "take" decades later? Why was she seeing both a priest and an atheist on the sly? How long can Bendrix maintin his disgust for the greatest passion of his life, whom he has never gotten over? The battle for Sarah's heart is pursued vehemently
by the two former rivals--who are adamant about what they consider best for her. Is this a novel about revenge or religious vindication, with its love-hate motif, inextricably interwoven between illicit courtship and foiled schemes? Just what are the limits of our responsibility to those whom we profess to love until death? This modern classic proves a captivating, thought-provoking read.
Rating:
Summary: stunningly beautiful writing
Review: I decided to read this book before watching the film, but now I don't think I can bear to watch the film. Why? Because this was one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I have ever read, and I want to keep it as I remember it. His writing is simply mind blowing..Greene let's us peer into the minds of Bendrix and Sarah Miles, and let's us decide what is the truth. I expected a basic tragic love story,and it has turned out to be anything but basic. It is a complicated tale of many individuals struggling to "find themeselves" and to solidify their set of beliefs..whether it be about love, religion, faith, or hatred. It is a about a love that is so intense that it swings between the desire to destroy and to protect ( the pendulum that Sarah mentions...)Graham Greene's characters are some of the most fascinating in literature: Sarah Miles, Bendrix, Henry, Smythe...they are all consuming characters. It is almost written like a mystery; the reader keeps discovering the truth about each enigmatic personality. This is the perfect book to read on a rainy afternoon ( read it with a pencil! ); it is a short and brilliant read.
Rating:
Summary: The End of the affair
Review: I first read this book after seeing a documentary of Graham Greene's life and much of this book is autobiographical. It is for perhaps this reason that this book has so much realism and self-awareness to it. The two main characters, are portrayed so skillfully that Greene manages to avoid the reader feeling distaste for their affair. What emerges from this novel more than anything is a sense of love in its purest state. Husband and lover are as one in their different types of relations with Catherine. The intimacy and yet strength of the heroine makes for powerful reading combined with Greene's use of Catholiscm to offer a moral undertone to contrast againt a reaction of sympathy. Greene has managed to understand the female character in this perfectly and underlines every human doubt and indecision in the lover's minds. This book expreses everything as eloquently as a Greene novel always does but the intimacy and the undercurrent of Greene's own emotions make this well worth reading.
Rating: 
Summary: "What a dull lifeless quality this bitterness is."
Review: One rainy night, in post WWII London, writer Maurice Bendrix accidentally runs into Henry Miles. Bendrix had an affair with Sarah Miles a few years previously, but Sarah abruptly ended the affair with no explanation. Bendrix is extremely bitter about his relationship with Sarah, and when Henry confides that he suspects that Sarah now has a lover, Bendrix leaps at the chance to find out the truth. Now all of that sounds very interesting, doesn't it? And that is exactly what I thought when I bought and read "The End of The Affair" by Graham Greene. This is the 7th novel I've read by Greene, and while I loved all the others (and would happily re-read them), "The End of the Affair" left me screaming, "quick, where's the antidote?" There were pages and pages of chest-beating, nauseating, syrupy-sweet, repetitious statements such as: "I longed again to see him," "Life was going to be happy again," and "Sometimes I get so tired of trying to convince him that I love him." After a few pages of this stuff, I thought I was reading some teen-aged girl's diary. The "Romeo and Juliet" aspect of relationships just isn't Greene's specialty. Towards the end of the book, when all the love bits were over, things began to get slightly more interesting, but by this point, I really wanted the book to finish, and it was only by great strength of will that I managed to get to the last page. I am a Graham Greene fan, but "The End of The Affair" just isn't up to his usual, delicious standards--displacedhuman.
Rating:
Summary: Greene's Catholicism fetishism gets to be nauseating
Review: Some critic once described AMADEUS as a "love triangle with God at the apex". The same could be said of AFFAIR. You know how some desperate people resort to making a deal with God? "Grant me such-and-such a favor, God, and I'll do such-and-such for You." That behavioral cliche is the premise of AFFAIR.
I was impressed by the narrator's hateful jealousy: "I got no reply and then I gave up hope and remembered exactly what she had said. 'People go on loving God, don't they, all their lives without seeing Him?' I thought with hatred, she always has to show up well in her own mirror: she mixes religion with desertion to make it sound noble to herself."
But I was downright nauseated by Greene's Catholic monomania. Whereby spirituality always gets to be represented by Catholicism. Even Sarah's mother turns out to be a Catholic. Why couldn't she have been a Presbyterian or a Druid? Just to break up the monotony.
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