Percy's Violin: Symbol Analysis in What We Can Know

What Is Percy's Violin?

Percy's violin is a handmade copy of the famous Vieuxtemps Guarneri violin of 1741, built by luthier Percy Greene in his Headington garden shed. Unlike his commissioned work, this violin was a personal passion project — a recreation in maple and spruce that Percy undertook for the sheer pleasure of craft. After Percy's death from early-onset Alzheimer's, Vivien Blundy kept the instrument wrapped in a tablecloth in a drawer of her study. Decades later, the violin is buried in a steel container on a remote island, alongside a folder of prose that becomes Vivien's confession. In McEwan's novel, the violin functions as a concrete symbol of hidden personal history, the enduring power of memory, and the tangible links to the past that survive catastrophe.

Where the Violin Recurs and How Its Meaning Changes

The violin first appears in Chapter 10, recounted in Vivien's journal after the fateful Second Immortal Dinner. She recalls the violin stored in her study, a memorial to Percy's presence. At this point, the violin represents lost love — a remnant of a marriage that ended in disease and grief. It coexists with her current life with poet Francis Blundy, but remains a private, unspoken treasure.

The violin resurfaces in Chapter 19, where Tom Metcalfe reads Percy's old emails. These reveal Percy's meticulous work on violins and his deep affection for Vivien. The violin is no longer just a memento but part of a larger story of a man defined by kindness, craft, and a temperament that delighted in existence. The instrument embodies Percy's philosophy, echoing William Carlos Williams's line "no ideas but in things" — a phrase Percy adopted as a personal motto.

The most dramatic recurrence is in Chapter 21: Tom and Rose, guided by a clue in Vivien's notebooks, dig on an island and unearth the steel case. Inside, they find Percy's violin and a prose manuscript — not the lost poem they expected. The discovery shatters Tom's assumptions about Vivien's intentions. The violin here transforms from a private relic into a public artifact of withheld truth. It reconfigures the narrator's understanding of the past and catalyzes a reconciliation in his strained marriage.

Character and Theme Connections

Percy Greene: The violin is the most intimate expression of Percy's identity as a craftsman. His work reflects his attentive love of materials and his generous spirit. Vivien's journals in Chapter 10 note that Percy taught their nephew Peter to work with wood, and the violin project was a bond between them. The instrument survives as the purest remnant of Percy's character — big, kind, and quietly joyful.

Vivien Blundy: For Vivien, the violin is a container of grief and love. She keeps it but never displays it; its existence is hidden even from her second husband. By burying it with her prose confession, she creates a time capsule that challenges the public narrative of her life. The violin forces a reassessment of her compromises and her true loyalties. It becomes a tool of posthumous revelation.

Tom Metcalfe and Rose Church: Tom, the narrator-researcher, is obsessed with uncovering the lost poem "A Corona for Vivien." The violin's discovery humbles him: it makes him realize that the true object of his search was not a poem but a person's hidden story. Rose, who shares his knowledge of Vivien's journals, recognizes the violin's emotional weight immediately. Her tears upon seeing it mirror the moment they learn she is pregnant — a symbol of life continuing beyond loss.

Themes: The violin is intertwined with the novel's central questions of knowledge and uncertainty. What does Tom know about Vivien? The violin proves he has been pursuing the wrong artifact. It also deepens the theme of memory and historical empathy: the object carries the physical presence of Percy's hands, bridging a century of time. In the context of love and betrayal, the violin represents Vivien's enduring love for Percy, a love that exists alongside her marriage to Francis — a form of fidelity that the poet's corona could never capture. The theme of art and ephemerality is embodied in the violin's survival: unlike the lost poem, this crafted object endures. Even within a world of environmental collapse and derangement, the steel container preserves the violin on a remote island, awaiting discovery.

Study Questions and Answers

1. Why does Vivien keep Percy's violin after his death, and what does this reveal about her feelings?
Vivien stores the violin wrapped in a tablecloth in her study — a private act of reverence. She never mentions it to Francis. This concealment shows that her emotional core remains tethered to Percy; the violin is a touchstone of a love that illness and death could not erase. The journal entry in Chapter 10 confirms she still physically misses Percy's presence, and the violin becomes the stand-in for that lost body.

2. What does the discovery of the violin alongside a prose manuscript suggest about Vivien's intentions?
Tom expects to find the lost poem, but instead finds a prose confession. The pairing of the violin (a symbol of Percy) with written prose (not poetry) suggests that Vivien intended to offer a truth that her husband's poetic art could not convey. She buried her own story, not Francis's. The violin functions as her seal on this alternative history, directing future readers toward her authentic account.

3. How does the violin's discovery affect Tom and Rose's relationship?
The shared ordeal of digging and the emotional unveiling of the violin breaks the tension between Tom and Rose. In the aftermath, Rose reveals her pregnancy — an announcement of new life and reconciliation. The object forces them out of their mutual evasions and into a moment of genuine connection. The violin, as a symbol of hidden treasure, becomes the catalyst for them to rebuild trust.

4. In what way does the violin comment on the theme of knowledge in the novel?
The novel's epigraph from Richard Holmes asks what we can know, believe, and love. The violin embodies a form of knowledge that is not textual: physical, handmade, and sensuous. Tom's academic methods nearly miss it. The violin teaches that true understanding of another person often comes not from documents but from the things they loved and left behind. It challenges the reliability of written records and affirms that touch and material presence are forms of knowing.