« The Suffering Continues | Main | An Expression of Masculinity »

May 30, 2006

Comments

nullo

"Anna Karenina, that kind of thing"? your mistake is to think that books like Anna Karenina belong to a kind, and then you find yourself wondering about Saturday (a pleasent read, by the way). Leave McEwan to himself, and go back to Tolstoj, I say.

DaninVan

"a pleasent read, by the way", says 'nullo'.
Kind of sums up what our host was saying about 'Saturday'. By the sound of it, too pleasant by half. Thanks for the heads up, M.H. :)

Backword Dave

"It's nicely symmetrical - first the science, then the art..." I didn't spot that, but you're right. That's what he's going for.

I thought it was a very poor novel (and a remarkable drop in quality by McEwan) for much the same reasons. I borrowed my copy from the library, so I can't check, but I think McEwan describes Perowne as "like a god" twice, which was nauseating the first time. In the final scene, IIRC, Perowne is also drunk. He may feel sober, but the champagne he's had would make him unfit to drive, let alone perform brain surgery.

As for the blues-playing son, oh please. Are there well adjusted blues players? The squash game was rubbish as well.

The only bits I liked were with the grandfather, who was a bit of a sod, but at least he seemed real. I have worried that my disappointment was coloured by my attitutude toward the war. It's nice to find someone pro Iraq who didn't like it either.

Esbonio

I was very kee to read this book after all the positive comments I read/heard in the media. I was disappointed.

The comments to this entry are closed.