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yanloureiroc's review against another edition
5.0
LENDO O MUNDO: Reino Unido
"Ainda está para nascer um narrador como este."
Imagina que louco ler sobre um caso de traição contado pelo ponto de vista do feto dentro da barriga da mãe
"Ainda está para nascer um narrador como este."
Imagina que louco ler sobre um caso de traição contado pelo ponto de vista do feto dentro da barriga da mãe
vezza's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
funny
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
jidkii's review against another edition
emotional
funny
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.75
The whole story being told from the perspective of a fetus in the womb was such a unique concept. However, the plot itself felt a little flat. Entertaining for sure, but I finished it feeling like something was missing.
Also, as for a Ukrainian, reading about Ukraine in the book felt really eerie considering what's happening now. I know it was written way before the full-scale invasion started, but it felt almost prophetic in a way. It definitely added an unexpected layer of tension to the story.
Also, as for a Ukrainian, reading about Ukraine in the book felt really eerie considering what's happening now. I know it was written way before the full-scale invasion started, but it felt almost prophetic in a way. It definitely added an unexpected layer of tension to the story.
fatkidatheartreads's review against another edition
dark
funny
4.25
4.25 stars 🌟 witty, observatory and entertaining. No one writes like McEwan.
I loved him while reading Atonement. I loved him when reading 'On chesil beach.' I adore him now. I mean, who else would write a whole thriller/comedy from the point of view of an unborn baby still in their mother's womb?
Just sheer brilliance!
I loved him while reading Atonement. I loved him when reading 'On chesil beach.' I adore him now. I mean, who else would write a whole thriller/comedy from the point of view of an unborn baby still in their mother's womb?
Just sheer brilliance!
jwilding's review against another edition
4.0
So entertaining. Never have I ever (up until today) read a book narrated by a wine-loving fetus. I did skim through a few of his many soliloquies. This was insanely fun and unique!
paola_mobileread's review against another edition
3.0
Very entertaining little book, though it did not manage to keep the tempo of the fist few chapters throughout - which are, however, thoroughly engrossing. Witty, beautifully written, tragicomical take on the banality of evil.
bethchatsbooks's review against another edition
5.0
A 5 star read. What a gem of a novel. Only Ian McEwan could successfully pull off such an ambitious and bizarre plot line. Trudy, the estranged wife of John, attempts to murder him with the help of her brother-in-law and John's own brother Claude whom she is also having an affair with. The only spanner in the works regarding their dark plot is the witness to their scheme, the nine-month-old resident of Trudy's womb. The novel is guided along by the narration of Trudy's unborn foetus, who offers up an intellectual and engaging reflection of the novels twists and turns. A unique re-telling of Hamlet, littered with poetry and compelling drama. A fantastic and richly dark plot. I am Blown away by McEwan's elegant writing style and the way he can make a strange concept like a foetus protagonist so utterly convincing without a hint of farce. McEwan is a hugely impressive talent. Nutshell is a wickedly clever novel. A must read for any McEwan fans!!!
trin's review against another edition
1.0
A modern retelling of [b:Hamlet|1420|Hamlet|William Shakespeare|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1351051208s/1420.jpg|1885548], narrated by the infant prince from inside his mother's womb. It is every bit as insufferable as that sounds.
Ian McEwan is one of those writers who, having been crowned an author of literature, thinks he can write any piece of cracked-out nonsense and know it will be treated as a serious work. Is he taking the piss? Who knows. What I do know is: this book is a joke. I've liked other works of McEwan's, although even my favorite, [b:Sweet Tooth|13562049|Sweet Tooth|Ian McEwan|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1344373046s/13562049.jpg|19137260], contained elements that were highly problematic -- gotta love that nasty streak of British misogyny! But really he just writes hammy melodrama, often punctuated by a "twist," and dresses them up with pretentious prose. At his worst -- which this is -- he is absolutely the M. Night Shyamalan of authors.
McEwan's main conceit -- the narrating from the womb thing -- is pretty stupid, but not entirely unworkable. Here's the first paragraph to [a:Kate Atkinson|10015|Kate Atkinson|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1363801830p2/10015.jpg]'s [b:Behind the Scenes at the Museum|28940|Behind the Scenes at the Museum|Kate Atkinson|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1436172919s/28940.jpg|29415]:
Energy! Verve! Humor!
In contrast, here's the opening paragraph to Nutshell:
Oh my god. Where's Laertes to put him out of his misery already?
There are only 197 pages of this solipsistic shit, but it feels like a thousand. I'll admit it: I knew I would loathe this book by the time I had finished the above paragraph, but I hate-read it all the way to the end. I wanted to be thorough and complete in my disdain. But I can save you the trouble. In a nutshell: what a piece of crap.
Ian McEwan is one of those writers who, having been crowned an author of literature, thinks he can write any piece of cracked-out nonsense and know it will be treated as a serious work. Is he taking the piss? Who knows. What I do know is: this book is a joke. I've liked other works of McEwan's, although even my favorite, [b:Sweet Tooth|13562049|Sweet Tooth|Ian McEwan|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1344373046s/13562049.jpg|19137260], contained elements that were highly problematic -- gotta love that nasty streak of British misogyny! But really he just writes hammy melodrama, often punctuated by a "twist," and dresses them up with pretentious prose. At his worst -- which this is -- he is absolutely the M. Night Shyamalan of authors.
McEwan's main conceit -- the narrating from the womb thing -- is pretty stupid, but not entirely unworkable. Here's the first paragraph to [a:Kate Atkinson|10015|Kate Atkinson|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/authors/1363801830p2/10015.jpg]'s [b:Behind the Scenes at the Museum|28940|Behind the Scenes at the Museum|Kate Atkinson|https://d2arxad8u2l0g7.cloudfront.net/books/1436172919s/28940.jpg|29415]:
I exist! I am conceived to the chimes of midnight on the clock on the mantelpiece in the room across the hall. The clock once belonged to my great-grandmother (a woman called Alice) and its tired chime counts me into the world. I'm begun on the first stroke and finished on the last when my father rolls off my mother and is plunged into a dreamless sleep, thanks to the five pints of John Smith's Best Bitter he has drunk in the Punch Bowl with his friends, Walter and Bernard Belling. At the moment at which I moved from nothingness into being my mother was pretending to be asleep -- as she often does at such moments. My father, however, is made of stern stuff and he didn't let that put him off.
Energy! Verve! Humor!
In contrast, here's the opening paragraph to Nutshell:
So here I am, upside down in a woman. Arms patiently crossed, waiting, waiting and wondering who I'm in, what I'm in for. My eyes close nostalgically when I remember how I once drifted in my translucent body bag, floated dreamily in the bubble of my thoughts through my private ocean in slow-motion somersaults, colliding gently against the transparent bounds of my confinement, the confiding membrane that vibrated with, even as it muffled, the voices of conspirators in a vile enterprise. That was in my careless youth. Now, fully inverted, not an inch of space to myself, knees crammed against belly, my thoughts as well as my head are fully engaged. I've no choice, my ear is pressed all day and night against bloody walls. I listen, make mental notes, and I'm troubled. I'm hearing pillow talk of deadly intent and I'm terrified by what awaits me, by what might draw me in.
Oh my god. Where's Laertes to put him out of his misery already?
There are only 197 pages of this solipsistic shit, but it feels like a thousand. I'll admit it: I knew I would loathe this book by the time I had finished the above paragraph, but I hate-read it all the way to the end. I wanted to be thorough and complete in my disdain. But I can save you the trouble. In a nutshell: what a piece of crap.
hollidayreadswithme's review against another edition
4.0
It's a very odd book, because of the perspective. I didn't really care for the drinking of the mother of the child, Trudy, but I think that was stylistically done so we should abhor the mother for potentially damaging her child. There isn't much more I can say without revealing the whole plot, but it was a good short read. It only took me about an hour. It reminded me of [b:Death: A Life|3845819|Death A Life|George Pendle|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1320532271s/3845819.jpg|3890793], which is also a very good short read.