Book Review: "Saturday" Ian McEwan

I persist in reading the novels of Ian McEwan, although I'm not sure I actually like his work. I think I like "The Cement Garden" and "Black Dogs", I can't remember much about "Amsterdam" and "Endearing Love", and I thought "Atonement" was over-rated.

It took me three attempts before I finally finished "Saturday". I felt hugely satisfied upon completing it, not because I enjoyed it, but because it felt like an achievement to have stuck with it.

The book forces us to spend a day in the company of Henry Perowne, a successful neurosurgeon with a beautiful clever successful lawyer wife, a beautiful talented poet daughter and a beautiful talented musician son. It isn't written in the first person, but we see and hear what Henry does and are subjected to his thoughts and detailed observations.

Unfortunately, Henry isn't much fun. I've nothing against unlikeable central characters, but this one is a smug, humourless sort, and his family aren't much better. I found myself hoping that something really bad would happen to the lot of them. Something does happen, but it isn't bad enough and they still emerge with their self-satisfaction in tact.

Of course, McEwan is a great writer so it isn't all bad. There are a few passages that drew me in and gave old Perowne a glimmer of humanity, for example his recollection of how he met his wife and his visit to his mother's care home. But for the rest of the book, I don't care about him or want to be part of his world.