"I was trying to capture the white noise of the man moving through the city on his day off work." -- [Ian McEwan]

Novel by English author [Ian McEwan]. Published in [2005] by [Jonathan Cape], [Random House]. 320 p., ISBN: 0224072994.

What it's about (without spoilers):

The [Saturday] in question is [February 15th, 2003]. A huge [anti-war] march takes place in [London]. Hundreds of thousands of people are protesting against the invasion of [Iraq]. Our hero, Henry Perowne, is a [brain surgeon] who may or may not be on the brink of a [mid-life crisis]. He probably isn't. We follow him for twenty-four hours as he negotiates his way through a [London] packed with threats. Flaming hunks of metal come hurtling though the sky. The roads are chaos. Alarming characters from the capital's [underworld] come chasing after him. His [father-in-law] arrives. His son becomes an adult. His daughter has some life-changing news. He loses a game of [squash].

It seems, at first, that nothing at all wrong with Henry Perowne. He's not even ordinarily [comfortable]. His profession is one which is cited as an example of [genius]. He loves his beautiful, gifted wife. She loves him back. His son and daughter are both extremely talented and original artists. He lives in a luxurious [townhouse]; drives a ridiculously expensive [Mercedes|car]. You might be sizing him up, like I did, and asking the obvious question: "ah, but is he really happy"?. Sorry to disappoint but yes, he really is happy.

Tales of [happy families] do not make for great reading. There wouldn't be much to get your teeth into if [Ian McEwan]'s latest novel recounted a day in the life of a happy man. Fear not. It is not inner turmoil that makes [Saturday] readable, rather all the external [chaos] which infringes upon the mind of an otherwise boringly contented man. The reader feels as though he is watching Perowne scuttle across [London] on this important day, as if he were running an [obstacle course]. He tries to keep his head down: he doesn't take part in the [demonstration], he refuses to postpone his habitual [squash] game. He does all he can to preserve his perfect [bubble], and succeeds up to a point. As the novel progresses, however, it becomes increasingly difficult to remain oblivious to the happenings around him.

Henry Perowne becomes plagued with thoughts of the impending [war in Iraq]. He feels he's being cajoled by others - his children, his colleagues - into having an opinion on the issue. [Ian McEwan|Mcewan] has said that [Saturday] was his attempt to write about [September 11th]. Being a novelist and not a journalist, he does so in a rather round-about way. Along with breathtaking descriptive passages, [psychoanalysis] is what [Ian McEwan|the author] does best. The result, then, is not statements on the state of the world in [2005], but the more subtle study of the impact global events can have on the small, tidy world of one of its citizens.

This is not the only threat to Henry Perowne's glossy bubble. A minor road accident leads to an encounter with Baxter, the spokesman for that [underworld] I referred to earlier. The man is not well. Perowne's professional skills complicate the situation further. In the novel's evening, Baxter presents a dreadful threat to both Henry's perfect family life and his successful professional life. I want you to read the book, so I'm not telling you what happens.

What's wrong with it:

There are flaws in the novel. There were a couple of moments when I found myself thinking things like "bloody hell, when's he going to have his lunch?". Writing three hundred pages about one day is not an easy task, but [Ian McEwan] does a grand job on the whole. This is a problem of plot and not style. Another thing I found difficult were the extended, detailed descriptions of [neurosurgery]. It's commendable that the author researched his subject so well - spending a lot of time watching Neil Kitchen, a real-life [brain surgeon] work. Still, a little tiring to read. There are also a few rather unlikely plot twists. Do we really believe that a [poem] could convince a mentally-ill [petty criminal] to change his bad ways?

What's right with it:

Despite these weak moments, I greatly enjoyed [Saturday]. [Ian McEwan] is one of the most gifted writers of our time. His talent with words redeems any criticisms I have. This novel is worth reading, even if it is only to enjoy the craftsmanship of an author who has mastered his art. It is fascinating to see a writer who spends so much of his texts analysing his characters' mental problems to take the next step and see what might be physically wrong with people's brains. [Atonement] covered a vast time span of almost a century, while [Saturday] recounts the events of a single day. That both novels are so beautifully written is testament to [Ian McEwan|Mcewan's] skill.

Sources:
[The Guardian] 15/01/05
The book itself
www.ianmcewan.com
www.randomhouse.com
www.powells.com

Saturday (thing)