Amsterdam – Ian McEwan

There is no writer around better than Ian McEwan at making the chest tighten at the realisation that something really, really bad is about to happen. For the first 90% of this brief novel I felt an ever-increasing constriction, all leading up to an ending that was….well, rather silly I’m afraid. I felt really disappointed, having enjoyed the rest of it so much.

I can’t believe that this won the Booker, when The Cement Garden, Enduring Love, Atonement, Saturday etc all missed out. It was good, but by some distance I think it’s his weakest work.