Saturday - Ian McEwan

This novel follows Henry Perowne, neurosurgeon, through a single Saturday in which not much really happens. Okay, that isn't entirely fair. Perowne does change emotionally/mentally and there is a traumatic encounter for his family. However, looking at plot alone, there isn't much going on. This was another novel assigned for my cosmopolitanism class and the second most difficult to read.

I'm not the biggest fan of Ian McEwan (whose most well-known work in the U.S. is probably Atonement). I don't care for his writing style, which can seem a bit condescending, especially in this novel. McEwan researched with an actual neurosurgeon for two years, which I highly respect, however the novel is at times weighed down by lengthy medical jargon. Throughout the titular Saturday, Henry frequently drifts into memories of procedures he has completed and they are needlessly complicated. To be fair, the climactic moments of the novel hinge on Henry's ability to perform a complex procedure, but for the most part, I could have done without the technical language.

That being said, I could understand why this novel was included in a class on cosmopolitanism. It takes place not long after 9/11 in London and in the opening scene, Henry sees an airplane rapidly descending through his bedroom window. His first thoughts are that it is another terrorist attack. Later in the day, the central conflict is indirectly caused by an anti-war parade blocking a main street.

Henry's family is unrealistic. Henry himself is a successful neurosurgeon, his wife (if I remember correctly--it has been a while since I read this one) is a successful lawyer, his daughter a successful poet, his son a successful blues musician, his father-in-law a renowned, award-winning poet. They are all attractive and well-liked. The apparent perfection of the Perowne family complicates the cosmopolitan aspects of the novel because they are ensconced in their own little upper-middle class world and even though there are moments where they think of other people in the world (Daisy, the daughter, for example vehemently protests the war for humanist reasons), they are undoubtedly privileged.

Their perfection actually makes them unlikable to me, the reader, because I can't relate to any of them. If you like McEwan, you'll probably enjoy this one, but keep a medical dictionary handy because you'll need it!