Had time while away to read Saturday by Ian McEwan, one of that long list of critically acclaimed novels I never quite get around to. It's a thought-provoking life in the day of consultant neurosurgeon Henry Perowne, set against the gathering storm of Iraq during 2003.
The writing has a slightly dreamy quality, emphasised for me by a setting that I walk around every day of Fitzrovia and Bloomsbury. The graphic descriptions of brain surgery were less interesting than Perowne's reminiscences of his children growing up and his relationships with his wife and dying mother. The poetry of Perowne's daughter is echoed by the lyrical quality of McEwan's writing.
Recommended even if you are not interested in the details of removing a blood clot from between the brain and skull!