Saturday (Paperback) by Ian McEwan - Reviews, Discussion, Bookclubs, Lists

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11/14/07

John Brooks rated it:

Read in August, 2006

I would not qualify "Saturday" as McEwan's best work. I think the argument begins and ends with "Atonement" in terms of sheer literary achievement.

But "Saturday" is McEwan's most immediate work; the one that feels most like a significant and honest byproduct of both the time and place from which it emerged and the man from whose mind materialized. To be clear, I adore "Atonement" and, for all its heart-wrenching and visceral exploration of ob...more I would not qualify "Saturday" as McEwan's best work. I think the argument begins and ends with "Atonement" in terms of sheer literary achievement.

But "Saturday" is McEwan's most immediate work; the one that feels most like a significant and honest byproduct of both the time and place from which it emerged and the man from whose mind materialized. To be clear, I adore "Atonement" and, for all its heart-wrenching and visceral exploration of obsession and paranoia, I love "Enduring Love".

"Saturday" is an oddity because, by placing itself in the middle of one man's life, in the middle of his family, and in the middle of the most significant period of our time (that span between September 11th, 2001, and the advent of the Iraq war), it somehow manages to be about everything, the way that our own lives are *about* everything.

It is about love, family, aging, neurosurgery, home, poetry, literature, sex, violence, identity, war, fear, paranoia, despair, hope; virtually nothing is untouched, and the whole thing occurs in one day, as Henry Perowne, the flawed but amiable protagonist, recounts the minutes of this one day. This can be as banal as it sounds, and more often it is moving, even reviting, to live in someone else's mind, to have access to the ups and downs and even the dull moments, for just one day.

The Saturday in question is the one during the largest protest in human history, the London protest against the Iraq invasion, took place, and so it was never meant to be an ordinary Saturday for Henry. McEwan, true to form, makes ample use of metaphor and symbolism, reducing enormous global fluxes to personal experience. In the hands of most writers, such tactics would be cheap and cliche, but McEwan, one of the most gifted living writers of fiction, knows that he has bought the right to employ such tactics.

Because the point, ultimately, of "Saturday" is, quite beautifully, that those events that affect the whole world tend to affect each and every one of its inhabitants individually. So as the Perowne family suffers their own personal nightmare, together, as a family, it suddenly becomes simultaneously a much more *and* much less personal experience. It is as shared and universal as it is deeply disturbing and private. It is the bizarre paradox we face in this shrinking world of ours; nobody truly lives and experiences anything in isolation. It is a strange new world, but McEwan somehow reminds us how essentially similar massive, destructive global shifts are to all the trials and hardships we have always faced in our own tiny lives. It's a short, beautiful, and effective story about who we were then, where we are now, how all that changed, and how, in the end, things tend to remain defiantly the same.(less)

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01/16/08

Philip rated it:

Read in January, 2008

recommended to Philip by: My friend Mark, but I don't hold it against him.
recommends it for: no one

Many of my friends are unaware of my fondess of Rodeo Sports. (This is, I promise, a review of SATURDAY. Just go with me for a moment.) But it's true, perhaps it's my childhood in the American Southwest, or maybe some remnant love of the game seeping into my ancestral subconcious through my grandfather and namesake, the New Mexican sports announcer. Or maybe, I just like the look of those cowboys all squeezed into their denims and chaps.

For whatever reason--and PETA be damned--I ...more Many of my friends are unaware of my fondess of Rodeo Sports. (This is, I promise, a review of SATURDAY. Just go with me for a moment.) But it's true, perhaps it's my childhood in the American Southwest, or maybe some remnant love of the game seeping into my ancestral subconcious through my grandfather and namesake, the New Mexican sports announcer. Or maybe, I just like the look of those cowboys all squeezed into their denims and chaps.

For whatever reason--and PETA be damned--I love me some rodeo. Living in Chicago, however, a good rodeo's hard to come by, and I find myself having to get by with captured pieces of filmed rodeos at local bars and Mexican dives. While the man v. nature thrill of the sport suffers when filtered through the decidedly inhuman and un-natural television screen, I'll take what I can get. Often, between gulps of tonic or overlagre bites of chimichanga, I'll catch an announcer go on and on about the ferocity of the bull about to be mounted and released from its holding pen. As the cowboy--all chapped, and hatted, and encased in a leatherized bullet vest--is strapped onto the back of this beast, I'll hear the color guards expound on the virtues of the monster about to be released into the ring:

"Oh, Cougar is a true champion bull. Last week, this bull bucked three time Budweiser Champion winner, Elias Butler in less than three seconds, before stomping him repeatedly in the chest. That was--what was it?--four broken ribs for Butler?"

"I think so, Cody. And our best wishes to Butler tonight in the county hospital. We know his family's watching from his hospital bed wishing his little brother, Zeke Butler, happy riding as tonight he attempts to take on the bull that sent his older brother to the ER."

"That's right folks, now don't take your eye off of Cougar the bull. He was almost retired from the game for his umatched ferocity, but Zeke--I guess with something a grudge to settle--insisted he ride this monster. Let's watch. . . "

Or something to that effect. I mean, the announcers will go on and on about the bull. And, usually, the gate lets fly, the bull springs out like a shot, and man and bull are at once a great tilta-whirl of 4H sportsmanship.

But, every once in a while, every once or twice in a true cowboy's life. . .nature surprises even the rodeo. Though no rider likes to talk about it, sometimes this bull, this monster, this beast with so much promise. .. does nothing. No one can say why this happens, why a Cougar with notches in his hide from multiple cowboy slaughters will for no apparent reason turn gentle-hearted Ferdinand on the field, sniffing flowers and warming nicely to the frustrated cowpoke sitting pretty on his back. Perhaps most bulls are only awaiting the perfect rider, one who fits nicely on their hump and, surprisingly, improves their back with their presence. Perhaps every once in a perverted Bucking Bull's life, despite the murderous backstory, enjoys the cowboy and takes comfort in letting him sit, conflict free, and motionless on its body, not weighing it down, not causing it trouble, just sitting there, both of them, while the clock runs, and fans stand up and hiss.

And once, while watching this happen on the televsion screen at my local carneceria, I actually witnessed with my very own eyes, a giant unbucking bull squat in the middle of the ring--shame-eyed cowboy on it's rump-- and drop a dump right there in the dirt. You guys, it pooped!

Ian McEwan's SATURDAY is that kind of rodeo: all promise, but ultimately nothing but bullshit.(less)

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07/30/08

Rose rated it:

bookshelves: 1001-books, read-in-2008

Read in August, 2008

recommends it for: doctors, determinists, naturalists, those interested in the human brain

No spoilers here.

This book explores the events of Henry Perowne's Saturday, which I can kind of see as a metaphor for a person's life. You start out with nothing but potential, events happen, and each day ends with its own sort of oblivion - sleep.

As with Atonement, McEwan's prose in this book was simply delicious. At the end of this review are some of my favorite passages that I just needed to type out for my own memory's sake.

But I also think that readi...more No spoilers here.

This book explores the events of Henry Perowne's Saturday, which I can kind of see as a metaphor for a person's life. You start out with nothing but potential, events happen, and each day ends with its own sort of oblivion - sleep.

As with Atonement, McEwan's prose in this book was simply delicious. At the end of this review are some of my favorite passages that I just needed to type out for my own memory's sake.

But I also think that reading Atonement first spoiled me. I was expecting this book to wallop me just like that novel had, but it didn't pack quite the same punch. While the narration of the everyday stuff was engrossing, the narration of the actual plot points was unbelievable. And, btw, the plot points are few and far between. Also, another reviewer of this book made a point that the character of Henry Perowne had a little too much going for him. His wife was beautiful, his daughter was beautiful, his son was talented, and he was a great surgeon. It gets a little boring. And don't get me started on how annoying it gets to constantly hear that female characters are "beautiful." This has become a pet peeve of mine, but should probably be the subject of a livejournal entry or something.

Forgetting that, the book was still good. It's amazing how well McEwan can explore the themes he picks. And after reading this and Atonement, it's hard to miss what a staunch materialist McEwan is (the scientific, deterministic sort of materialist - not the kind that likes to buy stuff). Events and catalysts are all causes and effects of other things. Moods, interactions, fights from decades past, car accidents - they are all the cause of hormones, or neurons, or world leaders' actions thousands of miles away. It's impossible to chronicle every action and re-action, but McEwan artfully shows us how deterministic this world is and what we can attempt to do in our slide toward oblivion.

A couple favorite passages below demonstrate this materialism.

1.) [at a fish market] "Henry liked to put to himself when he was a schoolboy: what are the chances of this particular fish, from that shoal, off that continental shelf, ending up in the pages, no, on this page of this copy of the Daily Mirror? Something just short of infinity to one. Similarly, the grains of sand on a beach, arranged just so. The random ordering of the world, the unimaginable odds against any particular condition still please him. Even as a child, and especially after Aberfan, he never believed in fate or providence, or the future being made by someone in the sky. Instead, at every instant, a trillion trillion possible futures; the pickiness of pure chance and physical laws seemed like freedom from the scheming of a gloomy god" (pages 128-129).

2. [while pondering the workings of the human brain] "For all the recent advances, it's still not known how this well-protected one kilogram or so of cells actually encodes information, how it holds experiences, memories, dreams and intentions. He doesn't doubt that in years to come, the coding mechanism will be known... But even when it [is], the wonder will remain that mere wet stuff can make this bright inward cinema of thought, of sight and sound and touch bound into a vivid illusion of an instantaneous present, with a self, another brightly wrought illusion, hovering like a ghost at its centre. Could it ever be explained, how matter becomes conscious?" (page 262)

3. There are a few interesting thoughts developed from his trip to the nursing home to visit his mother, who is suffering from dementia. She is fixated fondly on her deceased mother: "How strange it would have been for Lily's mother, an aloof, unmaternal woman, to have known that the little girl at her skirts would one day, in a remote future, a science fiction date in the next century, talk of her all the time and long to be home with her. Would that have softened her? (page 168) There was also an amusing observation by the main character that the mundane happenings of his day would be considered extremely exciting to his nursing home-bound mother.

Okay, that's enough for now, but it's a beautiful and quick read, and I can see how this could spark a lot of discussion, so I'd recommend it. I'd especially recommend it to stone cold naturalists, of which I am one!(less)

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04/28/08

Marigold rated it:

Read in April, 2008

I loved this book! This is not a book for you if you’re looking for entertainment only, or light reading. This is a book full of layers, metaphors, parallels, & issues to think about. The thing that most reached out & grabbed me was the idea of a man going about his daily life (whether you find his daily life mundane or overly privileged or whatever), when unexpected events occur & change everything. That’s always sort of a scary theme for me! On the surface it’s the story of Henry, a succ...more I loved this book! This is not a book for you if you’re looking for entertainment only, or light reading. This is a book full of layers, metaphors, parallels, & issues to think about. The thing that most reached out & grabbed me was the idea of a man going about his daily life (whether you find his daily life mundane or overly privileged or whatever), when unexpected events occur & change everything. That’s always sort of a scary theme for me! On the surface it’s the story of Henry, a successful London neurosurgeon; his wife Rosalind, a lawyer; their daughter, a soon to be published poet living in Paris; & their son, a blues musician, also on the brink of success. It’s a story that takes place over the course of one day – Feb 15, 2003, a day just before the start of the Iraq war, when there were huge anti-war demonstrations in London & around the world. That morning, Henry wakes up in the early morning hours & goes to look out the window. He sees an airplane headed toward Heathrow airport, & it appears to be in trouble. This encounter with disaster & possible terrorism informs & affects the rest of Henry’s Saturday. On this day, he’s planned a series of ordinary activities – a game of squash with a coworker; groceries; dinner, etc. Unfortunately, a minor traffic accident interrupts his plans, & brings his life into collision with Baxter, a – what? – small-time crook? – McEwan never specifically tells us – but we know Baxter has some sidekicks who don’t hesitate to use violence. Henry sees that Baxter has neurological symptoms that he’s able to instantly diagnose as a debilitating & fatal genetic disease.
All of that is the surface story. Along the way, you get to learn about neurosurgery – fascinating! I thought the detail about this was really interesting, tho have seen a lot of criticism about its inclusion. Really? Roll with it, you might learn something! You get to learn about the game of squash, literature, poetry, genetic diseases, the aging process, music, & cooking – all parts of Henry’s day or his thinking about his day. You get to think about war & peace & terrorism & fear & politics - & how these huge issues affect all of us even as we cope with the details of our lives. (Maybe you don’t want to think about these things – in which case, don’t read this book!)
Themes to find: The need for control in our lives, what things we have control over, what we don’t, & what happens when unexpected events make us doubt our control. The fear of lack of control or losing control. Work – competitiveness – how it affects our relationships. Biological determinism – to what extent is our destiny controlled by our genes? Violence, war, & what forces are available to us to counteract violence. Seems like a lot of people were disturbed by Henry’s family being “too perfect.” Legitimate – but here’s a theme to look for – the four disciplines of medicine, law, literature & music - & how they stack up against forces of chaos & violence. There’s a whole idea to think about that has to do with Henry & how the different parts of his personality work for or against him in the particular struggle he faces on this Saturday – or do his children represent different parts of him? Or parts of a greater whole that he needs to integrate? And who is Baxter, really? Maybe he’s part of Henry too – in a sense (read the end!) – or part of that greater whole. What does his reaction to the poem that Daisy recites, mean to the story? Another theme – creativity - & what would it mean to a dying man, to have the ability to create something like a poem, that has a life of its own, & an ability to inspire particular feelings & longings in others? I could go on but this is much too long! I thought “Saturday” was FASCINATING.
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04/17/08

Siobhan added it

bookshelves: bad-books

Read in January, 2006

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

I thoroughly disliked this book. It's the only Ian McEwan book I've read and if this is typical of him, I'm not going back for me.

Each character, and each event, seems to have a massive backstory to get through before we can get back to the present moment. That got tedious fast.

As for the characters, with their perfect lives in a toney London neighborhood, they're not particularly interesting. The bad guys who do show up and give the book a little texture are caricature...more

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09/12/07

Lori rated it:

bookshelves: fiction

recommends it for: people who have trouble falling alseep

Ok. I usually force myself to finish each novel I start. (with the two exceptions so far being Catch 22 and Atlas Shrugged).. I do this (1) to at least get my moneys worth, and (2) because I know somewhere in there, there must be a part worth waiting for.

This book fell into the (2) catagory. It was an impossible bore throughout most of the novel, with one interesting fight in an alley due to a fender bender.... until you hit the last 50 pages. For me, hitting those last chapters was...more

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08/14/08

Bonnie rated it:

bookshelves: recommended, reviewed-books

Read in October, 2006

Enjoyed this much more than Atonement!

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01/15/09

Lobstergirl rated it:

(review of isbn 0385511809)

bookshelves: to-be-burned

Read in September, 2008

Godawful.

"Saturday" was ponderous, labored, rhetorically thick and therefore perhaps to my mind pretentious, or do I mean pompous? It was like a big bloated beer gut, but a beer gut bloated - indeed, rendered distended, turgid, and tumescent - by the finest chardonnays, Gewurztraminers, and Sauvignon Blancs, sipped (quaffed?) while listening to Bach Partitas. It was bereft of conciseness, brevity, midgetude, terseness, laconism, abbreviation, and pith, its rather meaningles...more

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03/16/08

Jim rated it:

(review of isbn 0385511809)

bookshelves: this-sceptred-isle

Read in March, 2008

recommends it for: Someone who already likes McEwan. Someone new to the author should choose something else.

I think McEwan took the approach James Joyce used in Ulysses, that is, to detail the events of a day, in a narrative driven by a character's thoughts. Ulysses is a stream-of-consciousness masterpiece, Saturday isn't in that league. (It's probably unfair to compare a novelist with James Joyce, but literary publicists do it all the time. McEwan has received plenty of positive comparisons with the likes of Dickens and Hardy, even Shakespeare.)

There is some beautiful writing here, and t...more I think McEwan took the approach James Joyce used in Ulysses, that is, to detail the events of a day, in a narrative driven by a character's thoughts. Ulysses is a stream-of-consciousness masterpiece, Saturday isn't in that league. (It's probably unfair to compare a novelist with James Joyce, but literary publicists do it all the time. McEwan has received plenty of positive comparisons with the likes of Dickens and Hardy, even Shakespeare.)

There is some beautiful writing here, and that kept me going. Still, I kept asking myself whether something, anything, was going to happen. Occasionally plot breaks through, specifically the protagonist Henry Perowne's confrontation with some thugs over a minor traffic scrape. When McEwan allows plot to drive the narrative, it's superb. McEwan also writes convincingly about the personal lives of his characters and the relations between them. He captures the complicated tangle of emotions we have for the people we love. For this, for style, for his portrayal of confrontation, this should get 4 stars.

Unfortunately, this book is not defined by its good bits. Admittedly the novel didn't quite match its American promotion, which tended to stress the backdrop of the post-9/11 world and the run-up to the war in Iraq. McEwan certainly uses these themes; at times they are prominent, but I didn't feel it was integral to the story. It was a subject that inspired characters' thoughts and conversations, but I didn't get the sense it was anything like the zeitgeist of the novel's world. [I'm waiting for that book, not a book about 9/11, but rather about how people live their lives in this awful new world in which we find ourselves. (I thought Jonathan Coe did a decent job of this in Closed Circle. I would like to see how someone like Nick Hornby might handle this.)]

The biggest problem I had with the book, the one that really kept me from enjoying it, was that too much time was spent focused on what Henry himself refers to as the 'white noise' of his thoughts. If the character were a real person, he would be admirable, a gifted neurosurgeon, a loving husband and father, a decent cook. The problem is that he's a bit dull.

In Ulysses, Joyce used multiple interior voices and packed in so much detail that there's always something to look at. Also, Joyce's Dublin is seen from the pavement; as pedestrians we have time to take in more. What we see of London through Henry Perowne's eyes is from his car. Mostly we're stuck in traffic. When Henry gets out of his car, he spends a lot of time thinking about his squash game or recalling time spent operating on brains. Interesting, maybe, but not sufficient to drive a novel forward.

All in all, sometimes pleasant, often frustrating, ultimately disappointing.
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03/04/08

Howard rated it:

bookshelves: books-i-reviewed-for-kirkus

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

An increasingly mellowed but no less gripping McEwan vividly portrays the thoughts and experience of a single day in the life of an upper-middle class Londoner, blessed in every conceivable way.

While crowds mass in London to protest the coming invasion of Iraq in February of 2003, Henry Perowne, a 48-year-old neurosurgeon at the top of his game, intelligent and self-aware, goes about his particular Saturday, by turns mundane and marvelous. We follow his reflections on surgeries so w...more An increasingly mellowed but no less gripping McEwan vividly portrays the thoughts and experience of a single day in the life of an upper-middle class Londoner, blessed in every conceivable way.

While crowds mass in London to protest the coming invasion of Iraq in February of 2003, Henry Perowne, a 48-year-old neurosurgeon at the top of his game, intelligent and self-aware, goes about his particular Saturday, by turns mundane and marvelous. We follow his reflections on surgeries so well detailed as to be med-porn; lazy lovemaking upon awakening and restorative sex at the end of the day with smart, devoted, lawyer wife, Rosalind, (he notes his unusual luck that he still wants no one else); a sometimes savage squash game with friend and partner Jay; a sad visit to his senile mother; and shopping for dinner. A chance encounter with Baxter, an intelligent young thug, provides the small plot; Henry escapes a mugging when he recognizes early signs of Huntington’s in the lad and takes control. That evening, at Henry’s well-appointed townhouse, in the warm glow of gathering family--father-in-law John Grammaticus, towering poet turned to drink; son Theo, a gifted young blues guitarist; daughter Daisy, visiting from Paris, a poet both newly published and newly pregnant--Baxter returns, holding Rosalind at knifepoint. While terrorized and terrified, the family through their various strengths overcome Baxter, who lands in the hospital, requiring emergency surgery from the forgiving Henry. Taken up with an active awareness of his place in the world, his love for his family and work, the contingencies that make his life his, and Baxter’s Baxter’s, and informed by a matter-of-fact understanding of the neurological processes that emerge as behavior and look like choice, Henry’s thoughts envelop us in a total immersion experience.

A sort of middle-class humanist manifesto: When you find yourself fortunate beyond all measure in a random universe, gratitude, generosity and compassion are a decent response.(less)

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08/06/07

Elizabeth rated it:

Read in November, 2007

This is a "day in the life" kind of novel: the story of a single Saturday in the life of Henry Perowne, a middle-aged London neurosurgeon. The day is both ordinary and extraordinary; we get a lot of rather mundane detail about Henry, his family, and his life. Yet the day is significant, not only because of the explosive encounter between Henry and a complete stranger, but because it's set in February 2003, on the day of a massive anti-war protest. The impending Iraq war is thus a su...more

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07/30/07

Evan rated it:

Read in July, 2007

recommends it for: no one

I have to admire McEwan's devotion to his subject matter. the details he employs to help his brain surgeon appear real are great. but the novel is a mess from start to finish otherwise.

Even though the action of the novel takes place in a day, much of the narrative exists outside of the day, recounting the history of the character. The POV is limited 3rd person, except for a mistake about 1/3 of the way in where 1 paragraph jumps into the wife's POV (an argument could be made that it...more

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12/22/08

Reid rated it:

Read in December, 2008

Atonement was a great novel, a pretty good movie as well. But Saturday is tighter, a more personal novel, more focused and perhaps more human. I originally got interested in this book as it was compared to Proust and I wanted to get the gist without slogging through thousands of pages to get that done. The action is almost entirely in Perowne's head, which really gave me a glimpse into McEwan himself. I suppose I think it's impossible to get outside one's own thoughts, I think that might be ...more

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06/10/08

Nikki rated it:

bookshelves: general-misc, literature

Read in June, 2008

Like my (upcoming) review of Perdido Street Station, this was written as I went along. My mum told me to read this book just so that I've read something of McEwan's work, to get an idea of the East Anglia style -- I was once planning to do the same writing course.

The first ten pages bored me. Blah, blah, blah, mostly medical procedure, a doctor's life is so busy, blahblahblah -- a scenario I know well as a doctor's daughter, that doesn't really seem to merit ten pages to me. It got o...more Like my (upcoming) review of Perdido Street Station, this was written as I went along. My mum told me to read this book just so that I've read something of McEwan's work, to get an idea of the East Anglia style -- I was once planning to do the same writing course.

The first ten pages bored me. Blah, blah, blah, mostly medical procedure, a doctor's life is so busy, blahblahblah -- a scenario I know well as a doctor's daughter, that doesn't really seem to merit ten pages to me. It got old fast in real life; in print, it's even worse. The prose is quite ordinary, and lingers on topics I don't find particularly interesting: pages on pages about medical techniques, a couple of pages about the main character's son's music, a paragraph about the advances in kettles, pages in which the main character denounces the value of stories, half a chapter devoted to a squash game I couldn't care less about...

Despite that, there's something about it that kept me reading. Something vaguely hypnotic. I didn't find it "dazzling... profound and urgent" as the cover promised. I found it dry, plodding, boring, stolid. By seventy-eight pages in, the guy hasn't left his home yet and the most exciting thing is the plane in flames, which is dismissed in about two pages, near the beginning.

Strangely enough, I thought it did pick up near the end. Most of the drama was anti-climatic and sandwiched between pages and pages of irrelevant detail, but I tried to read it with the view that the book is meant to be about an ordinary guy going about his ordinary life. The prose mimics that, and the pages and pages of description enforce it. It took me ages to decide how many stars to give it. I'm not sure there was much to really like or dislike. The idea could have been interesting, but I'm not sure there's realistically a way to write about an ordinary man going through his mostly ordinary day in a way that keeps someone genuinely interested throughout. The build up was needed so you could care enough about the characters, but all the build up made me bored with them. I definitely don't think this is a "modern classic" or whatever. I don't think it has the strength to last.

I might try something else of this guy's, to see if I like him better when he's not restricting himself to one day of an ordinary guy's life. Any recommendations?(less)

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06/06/08

Nikki rated it:

(review of isbn 0385511809)

bookshelves: 1001-books

Read in June, 2008

recommended to Nikki by: 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die
recommends it for: Insomniacs

Huh? Did I miss something? I must have missed something because I don't get why this book is supposedly one I must read before I die. Mr. McEwan is obviously a fine writer; there is a sense of poetry to his prose, a lulling, sleep-inducing, mind-numbing sense of poetry, but a sense of poetry nonetheless. Regardless of Mr. McEwan's talent as a writer, as a novelist, at least in this particular novel, he fails to engage. Much like in Atonement, I feel like I get what he is trying to do litera...more

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02/18/08

Beth rated it:

Has a copy to sell/swap — Read in February, 2008

recommends it for: If you are a deeper thinker than I, maybe you can explain it to me.

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

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01/21/08

Anuar Kassim rated it:

(review of isbn 0099469685)

Has a copy to sell/swap — Read in February, 2008

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.

Well, it's either "Saturday" or "Atonement". I opted for Saturday to see how this book goes as the blurp sounds interesting.

The story surrounds Henry Perowne, a successful neurosurgeon. On a Saturday, when London is preparing for an anti-war demonstration (Iraq War), Henry on his way to his weekly squash game was delayed not only by the demonstration but by an accident with some thugs, one of them having an ailment that Henry seems to have diagnosed. Fortunate...more Well, it's either "Saturday" or "Atonement". I opted for Saturday to see how this book goes as the blurp sounds interesting.

The story surrounds Henry Perowne, a successful neurosurgeon. On a Saturday, when London is preparing for an anti-war demonstration (Iraq War), Henry on his way to his weekly squash game was delayed not only by the demonstration but by an accident with some thugs, one of them having an ailment that Henry seems to have diagnosed. Fortunately, Henry was able to wiggle his way out of the incident, although shakened was able to continue with his planned activities for the day.

Well, most part of this novel centers around Henry's list of ordinary activities that he did on that day, what thoughts that went through his head, his flashbacks, among many others. I particularly like the discussion regarding the war especially his debate with his daughter, Daisy. I remembered how some of us (colleagues and family members) actually had the same kind of discussion on whether the war was justified or not and that Saddam needed to be disposed of or not. As in the novel, the discussions did become quite heated up. I also appreciate Henry's meeting with his mother at the home, who is suffering from dementia due to old age, as I reflect upon my own parents and myself on what happens if I were to grow old in future. The concern is that, for my case, who would be looking after me if this does happen as the likelihood of marriage is slim at this point of time.

I find the novel rather boring (in a way) saved only by the brief excitement that was brought into Henry's home when the thug Baxter, somehow managed to find his way to Henry's neighbourhood and intruded with an accomplice into his home at knife point. Somehow, McEwan's mundane and routine portrayal of Henry's acts through the day seems to lull the reader until at that precise moment of intrusion when the reader's adrenaline starts to run high. This however, was brief. Nevertheless, somehow, the book gets you thinking that there are thugs everywhere, at the world stage as well as at your own doorstep, so beware of the supposed tranquility.

Is this book a let down? In terms of exciting possibilities, yes but in terms of trying to see a bigger picture (whatever that you may want it to be), no, I guess. Personally like I said, the book is rather boring. Perhaps, I should have started with "Atonement" first as my friend had earlier suggested. An exerpt (pg. 66, this edition) that struck me would be Henry's thought on reading "...Nor does he really want to be a spectator of other lives, of imaginary lives,...Why make things up?" Hahahaha....(less)

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12/02/07

Lain rated it:

Rare is the author who can write a compelling story in clear prose. Rarer still is the author who can create fine and distinct layers of meaning while maintaining that clear narrative. Ian McEwan is one of those authors.

In the tradition of "Mrs. Dalloway," "Saturday" traces the ordinary activities of an ordinary man, neurologist Henry Preowne. Against the backdrop of a huge anti-war march in London, Henry goes about his daily activities -- a squash game, checking...more

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11/24/07

Jonathan rated it:

(review of isbn 0385511809)

Read in December, 2007

SPOILER ALERT

Something about this beautifully written book really spoke to me. The book's protagonist, British neurosurgeon Henry Perowne, is like many of us in the months after the Sept. 11 attacks in sensing that his life, even if personally untouched by terrorism, would never be the same again. As his nation prepares to go to war in Iraq, Henry can't escape the feeling that our already limited ability as humans to control our own destinies has been diminished. (A sentiment that Mc...more

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05/27/07

Naomi rated it:

bookshelves: расслабления

Read in January, 2007

Saturday sets out to overcome the banal fact that the details of every individual's daily work, the minutiae of their job, are virtually impenetrable to anyone else - spouse, child, best-friend or co-worker. Still more difficult to convey is the interior monologue that goes with work, the thoughts and emotions that are never expressed. In an interesting bid to overcome this incommunicability McEwan lays out before us a day in Henry's life. There is certainly an imaginative spark in the impulse, ...more

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