Ian McEwan; Saturday

Hello once again, recently my updates have been sparse and I am sure my five followers are bereft at this fact. Do not fear, my exams are over and I will be able to regularly blog once again, whether you choose to read it or not I leave to your own fine judgement. Anyway, on with the book!

To begin, we all know that Ian McEwan is incapable of writing a bad sentence. Saturday is no exception, throughout his use of prose is brilliant, at times bordering on being melodic. However, for all his writing may be wonderful at times this affects the progress of the story. I genuinely can't see how nearly fifteen pages describing a game of squash could be fundamental to story progression. More so, his protagonist’s obsession with his father in law wastes valuable narrative space, at the climax of the story the father in law bizarrely becomes the centre of attention rather than the men robbing his house.

It is truly a shame that McEwan's obvious talent is wasted in this novel. Perhaps worst of all is the odious family he presents us with. The surgeon father, the poet daughter and rock star son could not be more stereotypically middleclass. All in all this book is well written, but at times frightfully dull, long winded and ultimately disappointing that McEwan believes the middle-class are truly like this.
Sorry for such a short post, but now I am back in to doing it they will improve. Cheers for reading.