Thursday 4th December

I have read most of his books and enjoyed them all, some more than others.  He does seem to have a knack of getting to the nub of things, the very core of what it is to be a person. This book is one of his very best.  It is centred on a high court judge Fiona Maye who presides over cases in the Family Division.  Her own comfortable settled life has just received a jolt and she has to deal with an emergency hearing of a complex and heart-rending nature.  I won’t tell you any more of the story except to say that she makes an error of judgement, her own not in a legal sense and gets involved too personally in a case before her.

The book is wonderful and full of compassion and understanding.  It very cleverly too points up the different lifestyles and moral values of those who sit in judgement and those they hand down judgements to.  McEwan does nothing spectacular with his writing, no clever phrases, no witty word-play, but somehow he pulls you in, and most importantly he makes you care.   There was a time when I scoured the Sunday papers for new “Literature”, attempting in my own way to read everything of value.  I rarely buy “best-sellers” now, even from the most lauded and prize-winning of authors.  I am slowly making my way through Anthony Trollope’s 57 novels, most of which are very good reads and intersperse these with detective books featuring Wallander or the novels of Elizabeth Von Arnim (I know, no-one has heard of her either).   But occasionally I am seduced by my old friends like Ian McEwan.  Nine out of ten I would say.