Mixed Feelings

I just finished reading Saturday by Ian McEwan and I have to admit that I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.

It was undoubtedly well-written. And even though the end felt like it dragged on a bit, the way it mirrors the opening scene is necessary. I’m sure many people would have felt cheated had Henry Perowne been allowed to just make love to his wife and fall contentedly to sleep. He needed that moment of reflection at the window, the moment of acceptance of the changes that are taking place in his life.

My issue is this: I really didn’t like Henry Perowne. He claims in different ways throughout the novel to be so firmly grounded in the real, the physical. He has trouble connecting with his daughter’s literary pursuits or even his son’s music. And yet he refers constantly to classical music. He’s not a reliable narrator, even in the third person, because he’s constantly contradicting himself. I don’t like him at all.

And yet I feel terribly sorry for him, for his failure to recognize himself and to truly connect with those around him. He seems very detached and lonely and awkward. But he has no one to blame but himself for the disconnect.

And seeing that, I have to wonder if McEwan ever writes characters that we can legitimately like. I loved Atonement but it had a similar problem. Briony Tallis is both loathsome and sympathetic, but in that novel you can feel the great well of remorse she feels about what she’s done and the lengths she goes to to try and atone.

I don’t know. Has anyone else found a similar quality in McEwan’s protagonists?

~Liz