Saturday - Ian McEwan

 I read Atonement when the book and movie were big news and thought very little of it.   It struck me as trivial, a little bit seedy, and overly judgmental.   It put me off reading any more McEwen until I came across Saturday, which is a wholly different kettle of fish.

Saturday is very simply a day in the life of neurosurgeon Henry Perowne, who lives in some style in a London square close by the Post Office Tower.   His day begins with sleeplessness.   He looks out of the bedroom window and sees a plane, its engine on fire, heading towards Heathrow.   This is February 2003, eighteen months after the attack on New York's Twin Towers and on the eve of the invasion of Iraq.   Indeed, an anti-war demonstration is due to take place not far from Henry's square later in the day.   So when Henry sees the burning plane his thoughts inevitably turn to Terror.   Should he phone the emergency services?   Surely they already know....?   Henry goes downstairs to watch the news on TV.   Ultimately the plane lands, no one dies, it's something and nothing and Henry considers himself justified.

He goes off to his Saturday morning squash game and gets involved in a road rage incident which does have considerable consequences later in the day.

What makes this a brilliant book is the depth which Atonement so patently lacked.   Here we become immersed in the Perowne family who, as it happens, will be gathered together on this special Saturday.   They are elite (the house is inherited from Mrs Perowne's late mother, who also owned the French chateau in which the widower, the famous poet John Grammaticus usually resides) but they are also made interesting.   Where McEwen ventures into the extraordinary is in his descriptions of Henry's work - McEwen gives detailed acknowledgement of the help he received from actual neurosurgeons.  Without this level of detail I wonder if the final story twist would be believeable.   I suspect we have to be convinced that only Henry can do what he is called upon to do.   In my case I was already stunned and sold because Henry met his wife Rosalind when she went blind as I did and had an earlier version of the same neurosurgery I had twelve years ago.   With the same positive result, I'm pleased to say.

Out of this World - Graham Swift

Swift is interesting: one of those writers from circa 1980, he won the Booker fairly early and then never really rose any higher in public perception.  He was there with Amis fils, Ian McEwen, even Salman Rushdie, back in the day, but not really now.  Scribner, however, seem to have done a substantial reissue of his backlist in these smart, clean paperbacks, and I thought I'd give him a go.

Firstly, you don't really get the title until the end.  The revelation is okay, but it's not worth waiting for.  Otherwise, the story is presented through a series of monologues, mainly those of Harry Beech, a sixty-four year-old former war photographer, and his daughter Sophie, thirty-six, who is married and living in the US.  Sophie is talking to her psychotherapist, Dr Klein.  We don't really know who Harry is talking to - himself?

Harry and Sophie have never been close.  After her Greek mother Anna died in a plane crash, Sophie has been brought up by her grandfather Robert Beech, MD of Beech Munitions Company, one-armed, holder of a Victoria Cross.  Robert, of course, fought in World War I; he was the third son, never expected to take over the family business, but both his brothers died in the trenches.  His wife died giving birth to Harry in 1918.  Robert and Harry were never close.  But the book begins with father and son in a rare moment together, watching the first Moon landing on TV.

Harry served during the second war.  He got shifted into intelligence, where he developed his photography.  Post war, he documented the Nuremberg Trials, which is where he met Anna.

In 1972 everything changes.  Robert Beech and his chauffeur are killed by a terrorist car bomb.  Both Harry and Sophie witness the explosion.  It is the beginning of their estrangement.  Harry, who coincidentally was due to fly to Belfast later that day to photograph the Troubles, gives up journalism altogether.  Sophie, due to go to University, goes off to Greece where she meets and marries cheerful Joe.  Joe is in the tourist business and in 1982, when the main body of the story is set, runs a company selling Olde England to US tourists.

By 1982 Harry is a specialist in aerial photographer, for field archaeologists, mainly.  He has met a much younger woman and plans to marry her.  He finally reaches out to Sophie, inviting her to the wedding.,  Meanwhile, the ridiculous Falklands War happens - such a stunt, such an absurd final convulsion of imperialism, that Harry is reminded of the Trojan War rather than wars he covered in Korea, Vietnam and the Middle East.  Does that make his half-Greek daughter Iphigenia?

It's a many-layered novel, touching on many themes, but mainly the disintegration of family.  It was written in 1988, is very much of his time, but none the worse for that.  It was interesting, well-written, and had several compelling male characters.  Sophie, however, is just a pampered bitch, therefore the story lacks balance.  That is probably its only fault.  I was entertained and impressed, always a good combination.  I will try more.