Saturday

Ian McEwan's Saturday is less of a novel than it is a meditation on life's changes, told through the voice of Henry Perowne, a middle-aged neurosurgeon who lives in London. Saturday tells the story of a single day in Perowne's voice, mostly through inner monologue, as he reacts to the events as they occur. That structure has its advantages and disadvantages: the advantages are that we get a rich, fully developed portrait of Perowne, who is a sympathetic protagonist, and because Perowne is intelligent and acute, we also hear his thoughts on a wide spectrum of issues that have touched and continue to touch his life. These thoughts, turned over realistically in a beautifully rendered stream of consciousness style, are at the heart of the novel. Although Perowne's thoughts range widely that day, a unifying theme is man's inevitable progression through life to his demise. Laced into that theme is a parallel exploration: what qualifies as a meaningful life, and how does one live it?When he arises before sunrise, Perowne sees a blinding flash from his window that he first thinks is perhaps a meteor, then later learns is a disabled Russian plane that has made an unscheduled landing at Heathrow. When the first news reports are fragmentary and unclear about the pilots and their motives, he wonders at first whether the plane is a terrorist attack on London, which sets him thinking about the conflict between Islamic fundamentalism and the West, the possibilities of protracted warfare between them, and how this may impact his life, and those of his children. In his detached and analytic way, Perowne eventually reasons that, although a terrorist attack could devastate London, the actual likelihood of such an event is relatively remote.Later in the day, he has a minor car accident with a thuggish man whose behavior shows that he suffers from a rare, progressive and invariably fatal disease, which prompts a series of thoughts about the inevitability of bodies decaying and ultimately failing. That theme is reinforced by his weekly squash game with a colleague, when he ruminates on his body's diminishing ability to compete at a game he clearly loves. A trip to visit his mother, who is demented and lives in a nursing home, gives him further opportunities to consider life's path. And the surprising events of his dinner with his adult children, his father-in-law and his wife again set off considerations of life's essential fragility and brevity.Perowne's thoughts reflect who he is: a serious, accomplished and methodical man soberly assessing his life and its meaning as he begins the passage from middle age to the years beyond. The strengths of the work are the brilliant depth with which McEwan realizes his portrait of Perowne, and the lucidity with which Perowne examines these serious intellectual issues. One of the great pleasures in reading any of McEwan's works is the sheer elegance of the writing. Not only does McEwan describe nuances of behavior and feeling in convincing detail, he does so in a way that is consistent for his character, Henry Perowne.The disadvantages of Saturday are equally clear: this is not a novel that presents a traditional story arc of primary conflict and resolution. It is mostly a work about ideas, and if McEwan doesn't compel your attention with the subjects of Perowne's musings, you won't like Saturday at all. To say it another way, one way of thinking about novels is that they present interesting stories, populated by interesting characters, that make you think. And on this score, McEwan only scores two out of three. In Saturday, the story is not equal to the strength of the characters or the writing. While one may care about Henry Perowne and his family, the story simply doesn't command the same level of interest. So I give Saturday four stars, and I wish I had liked it better.

Unable to sleep, Henry Perowne, esteemed neurosurgeon, loving father and husband, materially successful, stands at the window of his grand London house and sees a plane on fire heading towards Heathrow. Is he watching another terrorist attack in progress? So have our thoughts been altered since September 11, and it is the events post-911 that hover in the background of this novel that follows the seemingly normal events of Henry's usual Saturday. However, what occurs will be anything but normal. A fender bender occuring on the way to a squash game with a friend will have an extraordinary impact on Henry and his family. We watch Henry playing squash, shopping for groceries, attending a rehearsal of his blues-playing son, cooking dinner for a family reunion, as a large anti-Iraq war demonstration hovers in the background. The silent television news seems to follow Henry wherever he goes, onimnous in it's ubiquitousness. Violence, death hovers over the day. Henry's thoughts during this particular day run the gamut from music, art and literature, family matters, surgical observations of patients seen and to be seen in the coming week, and we are swept up in the details of his life. The novel is masterfully written, at times powerful at others lyrical. But in the end it is disappointing. The denouement is improbable. Henry is too good, too unflawed to be the protagonist of a novel. Fascinating protagonists are made from ambiguity.I don't wish to give away the ending, but suffice it to say that at the moment of crisis, on the cusp of violence, Baxter, the savage beast is soothed by a poem; a synapse deep within his brain triggering some sort of momentary humanity in it. The ending seems to me to be a metaphor for the blessings of forgiving those who harm us. "There is grandeur in this view of life", the author tells us both at the beginning and ending of the novel. I suppose this is the author's desire for the post-911 world. Unfortunately it is a demonstration of fuzzy headed and simplistic thinking. The book could have used a bit more fleshing out as well as some cutting. Henry's wife Rosalind is a bit of a cardboard figure. Their love-making brackets the novel, an affirmation of life. A lengthly description of a squash game could have been pared down. Still this is a book to savor, one that will linger in your mind after the book has been returned to the shelf. Fuzzy headed or not I suppose this is the mark of a fine novel.

I’m a great admirer of McEwan, one of our greatest writers of contemporary English literature, but I have to agree with those many reviewers who rate it a fail. It is too wordy, too navel gazing & - contrary to McEwan's intentions I’m sure - too elitist & self satisfied. I have no idea what his intentions were; perhaps to demonstrate that even huge privilege cannot ultimately protect you from the caprice of fate...whatever, the build up to the crisis is painfully slow, with the narrator, the neurosurgeon Henry Perowne laboriously relating the minutiae of his thought & actions. Imagine someone insisting on giving you chapter & verse about their long, meandering dream, & multiply that by 100.I won’t go into all the dreary detail as many other reviewers have ably described it. But what is particularly alienating is the portrayal of this perfect, intelligent, talented, altogether gorgeously wonderful family at their time of crisis, *spoiler alert* - overcoming the odds through sheer ‘perfect togetherness.Yes it is tense, suspenseful, but somehow McEwan has already lost our sympathy & we don’t care as much as we ought for the victims, insofar as that comprises the Perowne family. He is, of course, aware that other parties might be victims too, but that weighs very little against the experiences of the Perownes.McEwan, perhaps aware of this, rather artificially involves neurosurgeon Henry in a kind of redemptive act. This, only an hour or two after his ordeal. I’m sorry, it’s simply not credible & doesn’t redeem the book, which ends not on a bang but a whimper.This is my second attempt to read this book; at least I finished it this time. Though I’m not sure that that’s a positive.

I read this at another's recommendation, as a reprieve from my marriage to fantasy fiction. Though 5 stars is probably expected of a best seller, it is reflective of my experience reading this tale. The patience and discipline to deliver a compelling story concerning only 26 hours or so, and still grip you, is exceptional. I was astounded by the ability to take what is a normal series of events and make it extraordinary; without saying that it is so. This read is not for someone looking for a heart pounding, page turning, torch under your duvet way past your bed time tale. It deserves time and careful consideration. It deserves closing at a pause and dwelling upon. Much like art, there is joy in its creation as much as it's function. Rather than simple distraction, it can offer you a perspective you may have never know; if you let it. Recommended for a mature reader.

A day in the life of Henry Perowne, neurosurgeon, set against the background of the anti-Iraq war march in London. An apparently privileged man has his world rocked by the events of the day. Every event is told from his point of view (Mrs Dalloway?) and how it impacts on him and his family. From waking early and watching a cargo plane on fire as it flies over the city, (a terrorist attack in the making?) to his final resolve to forgive the man who desecrated the sanctity of his home and family. He gets into a quarrel with another motorist as he hurries to his morning squash match. This ends in a violent confrontation that he is able to escape by using his medical knowledge. There is bad-tempered squash match with a colleague and then shopping and a visit to his mother who suffers from Alzheimer's. All this is suffused with thoughts on the marchers and their motives, his own uncertain approach to the coming war, his family and especially his daughter (who is beginning to be published as a poet) and her fraught relationship with her maternal grandfather, who is a well known poet.This all makes a really compelling read - some lovely well drawn family relationships. He is a faithful husband very much in love with his wife and proud of his children. Beautiful evocation of living in London. A wonderful book.

Thoroughly enjoyed this book....... Starts rather slowly with much attention to detail of neurosurgery, but extremely interesting with it....... It becomes quite the thriller as the day unfolds....... Very cleverly written over one Saturday in the life of this man........... Great use of imagination and language as always with Ian mcewan............ Highly recommended and very prescient for even today's climate of uncertainty!!

Loved On Chesnil Beach, and quite enjoyed Solar.But this one...a day in the life of Henry, a wealthy brain surgeon with a colour supplement lifestyle. The character muses on life, in the way that lots of us would do, eg the way his work defines him, his relationships with family members, world events, the way he can't stop checking the news. But it's not that interesting reading a whole book about someone else musing on these things.Because the book is about one day, everything is related in detail. But unfortunately this makes the reading hard work! The account of the squash game (several pages - very hard-going for anyone but a squash devotee), the blues guitar playing, the brain surgery - all in needless detail, and very tedious for the layman. This is not the first book where the author's research (eg Sebastian Faulks and hedge funds in 'A Week in December') has made a novel worse for it rather than better.