I wouldn’t bother

Life, Don't Talk To Me About Life

The old believe everything: the middle-aged suspect everything: the young know everything.”

– Oscar Wilde





I have just finished reading Saturday by Ian McEwan, it felt like I had been reading it forever, not one of his better works. Neurosurgeon Henry Perowne see an aeroplane on fire fly over London in the early hours of Saturday morning, a few more pages in he has a fender bender with a nutter who threatens him, but Perowne being a top notch doctor spots that the man is ill and brings the matter up, there’s a fight and Perowne goes on to his squash game. There are then 10 pages describing the squash game, perowne goes to the market, to see his mother, to see his sons band play, then goes home. On Page 206 the nutter reappears at his home, where he threatens his family, Perowne lures him…

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