15. Saturday by Ian McEwan

I read this book hoping that it would get better, or, rather, that the sluggish pace of ordinary events would pick up. But, having finished the book a few hours ago and looking back, I enjoyed the long, lazing moments of the main character, the British neurosurgeon Henry Perowne, as he tries to have a wonderful Saturday. Things fall apart, in both little ways and small ones, and then things fall together again.

One of the more interesting facets of the book, for me at least, is the moment in time. It's London, February 2003, and the characters spend a lot of time discussing the prospects of the impending Iraq War. McEwan published the book in 2005, so he has some hindsight, but not as much as we do now, making it interesting just to see how conflicted the characters are about it. I suppose I found it even more interesting because I was so young at the time and thus locked out of the debate. I'm glad to know that it happened.

There was one moment where I felt kind of awesome: Henry's daughter Daisy is a poet, and at one point she read aloud one of her poems from her book. He describes it in a very hazy way -- he's a man of science and has spent a lot of time reflecting on how he doesn't "get" poetry. Anyway, in his hazy description, I thought to myself, "Wow that almost sounds like that one poem about the cliffs of Dover." Anyway, it turns out that she wasn't reading her own poem, but reciting the memorized "Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold, the poem I'd been thinking of. It's worth a read, and McEwan includes it at the books end. It's fitting, because the book's themes reflect those of the poem -- the cruelty of the world, but the solace found in those you love.

All the quotes that adorned the front and back cover seemed to be about a different book thought -- it was an okay book, but not great. It was interesting, but not at all a page turner. I didn't exactly "need to know" how it ended, but I'm glad I stuck through the whole thing -- it gets better as it goes.

Next up: The Art of Fielding, which I'd started before I started this one, but my little brother wanted my mom's Kindle so he could read Catching Fire.