Showing posts with label Ian McEwan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ian McEwan. Show all posts

25 March 2017

Atonement, by Ian McEwan

It is beyond my talents to aptly praise this excellent novel. It begins in an English country house where the Tallis family lives, circa 1935. A sort of tragedy occurs, or at least is perceived to occur, which changes everyone's life, but only as World War II is about to change absolutely everyone's life.

I read this in about a day. What a great piece of work.

02 January 2014

Saturday, by Ian McEwan

The entire plot of this novel takes place on a Saturday in February 2003. Neurosurgeon Henry Perowne wakes up early and has a very full day. In the course of this day he sees every member of his family, including his elderly (demented) mother and drunken poet father-in-law. In addition to the reunion, Perowne faces a serious and dangerous confrontation.

I was glad to find that this book was not like the last McEwan I read, which had a trick ending. Saturday was a thoroughly good read, with a great plot and plenty to think about. There is much debate in the book about the wisdom or folly of invading Iraq, and speculation about what the outcomes of such action--or, indeed, the outcomes of inaction--might be.

There is an issue toward the end that I don't want to be too specific about as it would spoil the book for another reader, but I do think there's an unrealistic representation of the professional behavior of a surgeon here. I doubt that the event described near the end of the story would or could have taken place in a British hospital, but I suppose I could be wrong.

McEwan includes an interesting American, Jay Strong, who has come to London to work as an anesthetist, thereby reducing his salary by a great deal, because he loves (1) socialized medicine, and (2) a British woman.

A Guardian / Observer review.

13 December 2013

Sweet Tooth, by Ian McEwan

Dedicated to Christopher Hitchens.

An e-book, from the PC Library.

copyright 2012

"My name is Serena Frome (rhymes with plume) and almost forty years ago I was sent on a secret mission for the British Security Service. Within eighteen months of joining I was sacked, having disgraced myself and ruined my lover, though he certainly had a hand in his own undoing."

These are the first two sentences of the novel.

This took me less than two days to read. It was entertaining, and quite clever. My only criticism is that it might just be a bit too clever: I'm not sure that the "trick" of this work doesn't overshadow the rest of it.

But I don't regret reading it, and may try McEwan again, just to see what else he does, if he does indeed do anything else?