Saturday by Ian McEwan

[WICKES]

(Plot spoiler alert)

Henry Perowne, the central character, is a British neurosurgeon living in London. We follow him through one saturday of his life, set against the backdrop of the imminent invasion of Iraq. He is happily married with two children, a son and a daughter. The daughter is returning home that afternoon, while the son still lives at home. He sets off to buy food to celebrate her homecoming, plays squash with a colleague, has a car accident, returns home. That evening, cooking and chatting with his children and father in law, two of the young men involved in the accident appear in his home with a knife. For a while they bully and terrorize the family, but eventually one flees and the other is thrown down the stairs by the son. Perowne then saves his life in the operating theatre, and the novel ends with Perowne musing on the future, both personal and national, as the day comes to a close.

I'd be very interested to hear the views of others. Personally, I wasn't impressed. The first problem is the main character: a dull, middle aged, middle class, pasty Englishman. Throughout the novel I simply pictured McEwan himself (also a dull, middle aged, middle class, pasty Englishman). Unless they are about to see their life fall apart or are brilliant, witty, life-loving hedonists like Falstaff, happy characters are always less interesting. But Perowne is worse than happy- he is content. Who wants to read a novel about a content, middle aged man? He is as bland as a lump of doe. The family itself is just too happy and successful to be believable- I mean a daughter who is an Oxford-educated, published poet and a son who is a brilliant blues musician about to go on tour! Oh, and a wife who is a hugely successful barrister... why not! Let's make the dog a crufts champion while we're at it.

I could also live without the McEwan/ Perowne middle-class, guilt-ridden love of multi-cultural London. For example, on his ward there is a black teen whose foul-mouthed, violent, aggressive attitude has upset the nurses. But Perowne "admires her spirit"...groan. Why not have him secretly wanting to throw her out the window, or occasionally stealing morphine, or being secretly in love with one of the Fillipino nurses? If you are going to deal with multi-culturalism (a huge issue in contemporary Britain) then you have to give both sides of the argument. This is typical of Perowne's utterly predictable and uninteresting character.

I didn't hate the novel though. The moments of tenderness and love between the family I found touchingly real, in particular Perowne's love for his children: his dutifully following his daughters reading lists, the moment after his son saves his life in which he "has never looked more beautiful" to his father. The final ten pages are also wonderful and worth the whole novel. Perowne can't sleep, he leaves his bed and, standing at the bedroom window, allows his mind to wander, to see the future unfolding. At the very end he becomes, almost, interesting.

[Emil Miller]

(Plot spoiler alert)

Henry Perowne, the central character, is a British neurosurgeon living in London. We follow him through one saturday of his life, set against the backdrop of the imminent invasion of Iraq. He is happily married with two children, a son and a daughter. The daughter is returning home that afternoon, while the son still lives at home. He sets off to buy food to celebrate her homecoming, plays squash with a colleague, has a car accident, returns home. That evening, cooking and chatting with his children and father in law, two of the young men involved in the accident appear in his home with a knife. For a while they bully and terrorize the family, but eventually one flees and the other is thrown down the stairs by the son. Perowne then saves his life in the operating theatre, and the novel ends with Perowne musing on the future, both personal and national, as the day comes to a close.

I'd be very interested to hear the views of others. Personally, I wasn't impressed. The first problem is the main character: a dull, middle aged, middle class, pasty Englishman. Throughout the novel I simply pictured McEwan himself (also a dull, middle aged, middle class, pasty Englishman). Unless they are about to see their life fall apart or are brilliant, witty, life-loving hedonists like Falstaff, happy characters are always less interesting. But Perowne is worse than happy- he is content. Who wants to read a novel about a content, middle aged man? He is as bland as a lump of doe. The family itself is just too happy and successful to be believable- I mean a daughter who is an Oxford-educated, published poet and a son who is a brilliant blues musician about to go on tour! Oh, and a wife who is a hugely successful barrister... why not! Let's make the dog a crufts champion while we're at it.

I could also live without the McEwan/ Perowne middle-class, guilt-ridden love of multi-cultural London. For example, on his ward there is a black teen whose foul-mouthed, violent, aggressive attitude has upset the nurses. But Perowne "admires her spirit"...groan. Why not have him secretly wanting to throw her out the window, or occasionally stealing morphine, or being secretly in love with one of the Fillipino nurses? If you are going to deal with multi-culturalism (a huge issue in contemporary Britain) then you have to give both sides of the argument. This is typical of Perowne's utterly predictable and uninteresting character.

I didn't hate the novel though. The moments of tenderness and love between the family I found touchingly real, in particular Perowne's love for his children: his dutifully following his daughters reading lists, the moment after his son saves his life in which he "has never looked more beautiful" to his father. The final ten pages are also wonderful and worth the whole novel. Perowne can't sleep, he leaves his bed and, standing at the bedroom window, allows his mind to wander, to see the future unfolding. At the very end he becomes, almost, interesting.

Thanks for a proper review rather than the less than revealing entries that often characterise this spot. I haven't read the novel but judging from the reviews in the media when it was first published, your own seems to bear out the lack of enthusiasm that I recall at the time. This seems to be indicative of an increasing inability to make characters or plot lines interesting. Does anyone really care about these angst-ridden little men and their pallid existence? For real characters and readable stories one has to return to the days of Maugham, Wells, Hardy etc., all of whom leave the recent nonentities standing when it come to telling a memorable tale in a distinctive style.
Not long ago, I made the mistake of buying A Week in December by Sebastian Faulks. I read it in a couple of days and gave it away to a charity shop for anyone who wants a signed copy of a very tedious hopelessly contrived novel and, yes, there was the usual multi-cultural angle with a black female underground train driver getting hooked up to a white middle class lawyer, and a Pakistani youth who becomes part of a group of Muslim fundamentalists who plan to blow up some installation or other.
There may be exceptions but, judging from their reviews, the rule seems to be a string of ho hum writers going back several decades.

[Dodo25]

I read this one a long time ago, so I can only recall the vague sentiment I had at the time of reading it:

I liked the premise of the novel, rational protagonist with a rational perspective on life. I love when Chorea Huntington is used as a plot device, the series "House" does it well, as does the book "Galapagos" by Kurt Vonnegut.

But overall, the book left me a bit disappointed. It was good, but not as good as I expected. I think I agree with the OP that it was uninteresting at times. Maybe some would call it "subtle", but that's not my preferred style.

Also, some of the internal dialogue of Perowne seemed too predictable to me. It kinda takes you out of the story when you notice how and why the author picked a specific scene to make a point you're already familiar with.

Again, decent book, but not nearly as good as i.e. "Atonement".