Free pdf Saturday – Albawater.co

Saturday is a masterful novel set within a single day in FebruaryHenry Perowne is a contented man a successful neurosurgeon, happily married to a newspaper lawyer, and enjoying good relations with his children Henry wakes to the comfort of his large home in central London on this, his day off He is as at ease here as he is in the operating room Outside the hospital, the world is not so easy or predictable There is an impending war against Iraq, and a general darkening and gathering pessimism since the New York and Washington attacks two years beforeOn this particular Saturday morning, Perowne s day moves through the ordinary to the extraordinary After an unusual sighting in the early morning sky, he makes his way to his regular squash game with his anaesthetist, trying to avoid the hundreds of thousands of marchers filling the streets of London, protesting against the war A minor accident in his car brings him into a confrontation with a small time thug To Perowne s professional eye, something appears to be profoundly wrong with this young man, who in turn believes the surgeon has humiliated him with savage consequences that will lead Henry Perowne to deploy all his skills to keep his family alive My star rating of Saturday is a reminder of the days when I still liked his writing style enough to give him the benefit of my suppressed doubt I will let those stars remain shining here to remember what kind of strange magnetic power this author has to make me try, again and again, to discover the evasive genius that seems to be hiding just around the next sentenceI do hold a personal grudge against one of the last scenes in Saturday though I have never been able to fully forget the te My star rating of Saturday is a reminder of the days when I still liked his writing style enough to give him the benefit of my suppressed doubt I will let those stars remain shining here to remember what kind of strange magnetic power this author has to make me try, again and again, to discover the evasive genius that seems to be hiding just around the next sentenceI do hold a personal grudge against one of the last scenes in Saturday though I have never been able to fully forget the terrible shame by proxy that I felt when I was forced by my own imagination to identify with the vulnerable exposure of the naked pregnant young woman And of course the shame is not towards the psychopath, but towards those with whom one should be feeling comfortable, caring and loving the family, that is Life is truly a strange mix of ordinary and extraordinary occurrences, and these Ian McEwan condensed nicely into one Saturday.Happy Saturday out there, my dear fellow readers I hope you hadof the ordinary stuff today, and lots of coffee and chocolate And possibly an Ian McEwan book at hand as well, as he is for lazy days Hello everybody,I m Henry Perowne and welcome to a day in my life a Saturday to be precise I m a good natured sort of chap, if I were famous I d probably be saddled with the tag of thinking women s crumpet , but personally I take myself much to seriously to acknowledge that kind of thing I m a successful neurosurgeon who enjoys long, descriptive and adjective laden games of squash with my erudite and debonair colleagues Today, for once in my incredibly lucky and wealthy life, I had a spot Hello everybody,I m Henry Perowne and welcome to a day in my life a Saturday to be precise I m a good natured sort of chap, if I were famous I d probably be saddled with the tag of thinking women s crumpet , but personally I take myself much to seriously to acknowledge that kind of thing I m a successful neurosurgeon who enjoys long, descriptive and adjective laden games of squash with my erudite and debonair colleagues Today, for once in my incredibly lucky and wealthy life, I had a spot of bad luck and pranged my top of the range Merc This led to an encounter which can, at best, be described as unpleasant The thugs in the red BMW gave me a bit of a pasting which left me with a cracking haematoma over my sternum However, my extensive medical knowledge allowed me to diagnose one of my attackers with a genetically inherited degenerative disease on the spot This allowed me to escape, quick smart, while they brooded over their own mortality.Later, after welcoming home my improbably talented and successful 16 year old Blues Musician son and my improbably talented and successful published poet daughter there was another small altercation This time however the ebb and flow of violent modern day life breached the walls of this englishman s pricey Georgian Castle and things took a turn for the worse Needless to say, my calculating surgeons mind and spirited, courageous family pulled together to best the simian like thugs Ironically it then fell to me to save said thug with an emergency neurosurgical procedure Life s funny that way I wrapped up the whole day the way it began by making love to my improbably talented and successful wife and then having a little bit of a wistful ponder about my own mortality while considering it in perspective against a backdrop of modern foreign policy Godawful Saturday was ponderous, labored, rhetorically thick and therefore perhaps to my mind pretentious, or do I mean pompous It was like a big bloated beer gut, but a beer gut bloated indeed, rendered distended, turgid, and tumescent by the finest chardonnays, Gewurztraminers, and Sauvignon Blancs, sipped quaffed while listening to Bach Partitas It was bereft of conciseness, brevity, midgetude, terseness, laconism, abbreviation, and pith, its rather meaningless, hollow sentences cu Godawful Saturday was ponderous, labored, rhetorically thick and therefore perhaps to my mind pretentious, or do I mean pompous It was like a big bloated beer gut, but a beer gut bloated indeed, rendered distended, turgid, and tumescent by the finest chardonnays, Gewurztraminers, and Sauvignon Blancs, sipped quaffed while listening to Bach Partitas It was bereft of conciseness, brevity, midgetude, terseness, laconism, abbreviation, and pith, its rather meaningless, hollow sentences curled around each other like vines choking a tree trunk, maybe a turkey oak Paragraphs wended, labyrinthinely, toward a ridiculous and pat conclusion Even when things happened, they were narrated along with the protagonist s meandering thoughts and by thoughts, I mean those electrical impulses traveling from synapse to synapse between the neurons and glial cells in the nodes of the brain as he moved through that last day of the week, also known as Saturday This is how I would describe the book if I were writing in the style of, say, Ian McEwan Jonathan sits before his reliable laptop, gathering his thoughts on how to begin a review of Ian McEwan s Saturday He has already made up his mind as to how he shall write this review, a mediocre attempt at emulating Mr McEwan s third person, present tense style, will suffice Yet he struggles with the concept of how best to begin the review Shall he mention the plot, the themes or the beautiful writing He knows at this point that he will refer to why he talks as an omniscient narrator for th Jonathan sits before his reliable laptop, gathering his thoughts on how to begin a review of Ian McEwan s Saturday He has already made up his mind as to how he shall write this review, a mediocre attempt at emulating Mr McEwan s third person, present tense style, will suffice Yet he struggles with the concept of how best to begin the review Shall he mention the plot, the themes or the beautiful writing He knows at this point that he will refer to why he talks as an omniscient narrator for this review yet he lacks words and ideas to allow him to begin His fingers hover over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration in order to begin a review different from others previously attempted.It comes to him now, he will open with a tale of how he came to be reading Saturday He smiles wryly, the smile sliding to the very corners of his mouth He certainly had never planned to read the novel He had not set a reservation for the novel nor had he picked up from the shelf Saturday with the intention of reading it He had believed the plain covered book to be a version of Ted Hughes Birthday Letters, compulsory reading for his literature course It seems to him now so ironic that he could have grabbed Saturday without realising that it was not a poetry collection, although it talks enough about that subject Jonathan remembers back as to how he decided, upon realising his mistake, to read the novel He had always intended to read some of Ian McEwan s work, Atonement being a particular novel he had considered, and the fact that the book was on the 1001 books to read before you die list now 1200 books convinced him he should actually read it.And so he had read the book and he had found it entertaining The prose, he considers, had been particularly beautiful in its simplicity Though there had been far too many medical terms dished out by the author as unconstrained information Here , McEwan had said, have neurologist , aneurysm , dopamine and biopsy to keep you company, I don t care whether you understand or care about such terms Jonathan certainly did understand those terms, yet he wonders whether the way they were flung about would detract other thoughtful readers Then there was also the matter as to whether other readers would care enough about a novel set on one single day Would readers want to know about one man s solitary day left separated from the context of a single lifetime Would other readers care enough about the prose and the entertaining aspects of the novel would they care about neurosurgeon Henry Perowne and his family, his squash game, his home invasion Then, Jonathan questions, would they notice the themes of the novel The ideas about how languages connect people The suggestion that poetry could shape the lives about others and as an afterthought the connection between language and music through poetry Would they see an idea about how our past deeds may come back to haunt us and how it is therefore important to question and challenge what we are doing in the moment And would they see the idea of how a single day may be both everything and nothing in an individual s lifetime Jonathan stares at his laptop and then begins to write He writes until he has completed his review He writes until his thoughts are spread out before him like blood pouring from a wound He looks then at what he has written and asks himself onequestion Have I informed everyone enough about what I think about this novel that I like it and yet do not consider it a masterpiece in order to make others consider at least reading this He pauses for a moment, then he lets out a sigh He has written a decent review he considers, let potential readers make the decision as to whether they will read this literary text He scans his work onceand then directs his cursor to the single save button