Ian McEwan

Saturday

Set in Fitzrovia, central London, on Saturday, 15 February 2003, as a large demonstration is taking place against the United States' 2003 invasion of Iraq, Saturday is a novel about one day in post-9/11 London. The protagonist, Henry Perowne, a 48-year-old neurosurgeon, has planned a series of errands and pleasures, culminating in a family dinner in the evening. As he goes about his day, he ponders the meaning of the protest and the problems that inspired it; however, the day is disrupted by an encounter with a violent, troubled man.

a novel

Mary Baldwin

Not a book to read if you're looking for pure entertainment, a thrilling page turner or even a philosophical tale. But, if you are willing to treat the book like a very detailed recipe, you'll be wholly satisfied with what comes out of the oven at the end.

I must admit that section four felt a little bit wooden for me, but I trust McEwan so much that it didn't really turn me off.

Saturday. I read the title but it took me a long while to catch on that it literally is ADITLO, in this case, the life of a neurosurgeon, his immediate and extended family. The story follows his day in exquisite detail, be it the ways he is intimate with his wife in a morning, his feelings towards his lead anaesthetist or the best way to chop monkfish - it's all there. It is cleverly blended with a plot that despite being very simple, has its own turns (not so much twists) and to my mind finishes wonderfully. 

I didn't appreciate it entirely during the book, but now having finished it I can fully imagine the family and each character - how they would respond to a particular situation and what motivates them. All that was fed through the interactions with one person, so it's a pretty special feat. 

Simply, it has emotion, introspection, characterisation and even some action. It's a lovely book and one I would strongly recommend.

Melody Izard

What an odd point of view this short McEwen novel uses to tell us this story of the day in the life of Henry Perowne. It is told all in third person, but the narrator has all the goods on Henry. So even though it is not from Henry’s point of view – we are in his car, we play squash with him, we operate on his patients, we visit his mom. And like Henry we begin to see that every little event has such rippling effects on his world and beyond. And at the same time, some things, no matter how hard we want them to and how hard we try to make them, some things cannot be changed and maybe they are not fair and maybe they are just a damn shame – but they will come to pass. 
So Henry wants a regular Saturday. He wants to make love to his wife, who he is still deeply in love with after all these years of marriage. He wants to play squash with his mate – even though he is feeling the effects of getting older and knows he must soon, very soon, stop playing squash and stop running marathons. He wants to visit his mother in the nursing home – well maybe he does this out of a sense of duty because his mom doesn’t know who he is or where she is. He wants to hear his son’s new song. He wants to get ready to cook dinner because his daughter, Daisy is coming home to reconcile with his father-in-law after a disagreement about poetry for god’s sake. But because there are war protesters in the street and a cop gives him a wave to come on across a closed road, and because some poor, down and out chaps come zipping out of a lap dance bar and hit his car, events change. Henry had already woken up in a very inward-looking mood and Baxter (the driver of the other car) causes his thoughts to go even deeper. 
It’s been quite a while since I thought a book deserved a five star rating – but I must have been in the mood for introspection.

Trevor Berrett

Who else can write about playing a game of squash, cooking some soup, and performing brain surgery and still keep the reader enthralled? McEwan is one of the best writers writing today. While I didn't like this book as much as Atonement, I still thought it was profound and very compelling. McEwan has a way of describing emotion, even its contradictions, in such way that makes the reader say, yes, that is exactly how it feels.

zilver 

3-3.5 (rewrote this a little bc my english was trash the first time 'round)

okay, so. this book wasn't boring, but it really wasn't very fast-paced either. the book is set to play out in 24 hours, so i knew going in that it was likely going to be lots of contemplation and Thoughts. i like getting into character's heads, and maybe this is where the whole i'm an eighteen-year-old girl and this is about a fifty-year-old guy comes into play again, because while i really didn't mind being in perowne's head all the time i was also wishing i could get a bit of distance from his old man thoughts after 20 pages. 

in general, my thoughts about henry perowne ranged from dude really? to just don't care one single bit to sort of an okay guy throughout the book (not specifically in that order). he thought his kids were great and supported them and so did i so we bonded over that. 

the way the last 60(?) pages were handled saved this book imo. it didn't get trope-y, which is what i was sort of afraid of. well done book. 

all in all not my fav but also no Disgrace so that's always a plus.

TINY SPOILER but that moment??? when he suddenly becomes sherlock holmes and in literally a split second deduces that this guy that's about to punch him in the freaking face  has huntington's disease? .... right.

Jackie Cunningham

Helen Bright

Will Vunderink

Sara Käfer 

Klaus Eck

Michael Springer

Anja Hansen

Sang Park

Fran Lewis

Tim Pennington-Russell

Celestine Taevs-Nakaya

Robert Yang

Kayla Walters

Neta Steingart

Henry Perowne es un hombre feliz. Tiene cuarenta y siete años, es un reconocido neurocirujano y está casado con Rosalind, una abogada que lleva los asuntos legales de un importante periódico. Y ambos disfrutan con su trabajo, se quieren y quieren a sus hijos, un prometedor músico y una joven poeta, y gozan de una confortable vida de placeres tranquilos e íntimas satisfacciones. Es sábado, el comienzo del fin de semana de descanso de Henry. Y es 15 de febrero de 2003, el día de las grandes manifestaciones contra la inminente guerra de Irak. Henry se despierta antes del amanecer, va hacia la ventana de su dormitorio, y en la fría media luz de la mañana que empieza ve un avión en llamas, o eso le pa­rece, que sobrevuela Londres muy bajo, en una trayectoria inesperada. Y en estos tiempos de estrépito y miedo, Henry teme lo peor: un acciden­te terrible, un ataque terrorista. Más tarde, escuchando la radio y toman­do café con su hijo, que vuelve de un concierto y aún no se ha acostado, sabrá que se trata de un aterrizaje forzoso, de un avión de mercancías ruso en dificultades. Y Henry volverá a dormir, y hará el amor con su mu­jer, y se irá luego a su partida de squash semanal. Pero la visión nocturna no habrá sido sino el presagio de la realidad, de esa realidad azarosa, bru­tal, ciega, que irrumpirá en la plácida burbuja de su vida tan armoniosa...

Saturday

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