Saturday

Here is a small synopsis:

"The protagonist, Henry Perowne, a 48-year-old neurosurgeon, has planned a series of chores 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".


The first five chapters talk about his day. And while the book is very well written, it wasn't that enjoyable to me. It finally gets interesting 200 pages in (when it becomes horrific and all the book comes together). And while there is great character development, I can honestly say I didn't really care about any of them. There are some terrific quotes, wonderful opinions on the state of people and our present day society, that McEwan writes..but I just couldn't get into this. One chapter is devoted to the protagonists squash game. And for what purpose? It had potential!

When I read books like this, I tend to doubt myself and think "well, maybe I just didn't get it". Maybe it was too "smart" for me. But for this book, I'm not going to do that. I got it. It just wasn't great. This book was completely unrealistic, boring, and I'm wondering what the editor was thinking. A great writer can write a terrible book just like a great actor can be in a terrible movie (hello, Johnny Depp?). And this novel is one of those examples.