This book gets better as it progresses, and it's definitely worth persevering, even if it may feel too long in places.

If you have read Ian McEwan's work before, you know what to expect- really well-written characters but not particularly plot-driven reading. You have to let yourself sink in with the story and the characters, and enjoy the small moments as well as the big ones. A good life lesson overall!

I particularly enjoyed the expansive historical backdrop and the way the story is interwoven with modern history. That kept me going when the plot wasn't pulling me into the book.

A worthwhile read, I'm glad I finished it, but probably not one that I will be re-reading.

I am desolate at the fact that much as I have loved almost all of Ian McEwan's previous work I had to give up on Lessons. It was just tedious ploughing through it. My favourite works include On Chesil Beach, Amsterdam etc and Lessons just did nothing for me. Thanks to NetGalley and Jonathan Cape for the opportunity to read the book but I can't give it a review as I didn't finish it. Sad.

I love Ian McEwan’s writing and so was excited to read this new book. Yet part way through I nearly gave up! The book seemed to be trying to be too many things…a history of an entire life, looking at both the personal/relational, as well as the political and existential.

Parts 1 and 2 felt long winded, although at times I was enraptured and felt it was back on track, only for it to drag and jump around again.

Part 3 was much better and made me glad I persevered. McEwan was able in some manner to bring it all together, although I still feel this could have been 3 or 4 books to deal with each aspect fully! Given the amount if history covered there was no time for full explanations and maybe this is why I struggled in places as I had not lived those parts nor studied them.

On one hand this is a tale of a long life, which is beset by abuse, love, family and choices. On the other it is look at history, what lessons we have learnt or ignored and what we should do about it.

Roland is largely an unlikeable character, although I warmed you him more by the end. There was a vast cast of peripheral characters who I struggled to keep up with at times.

Not my favourite if McEwan’s books, but I am definitely glad I continued to the end. Plenty of food for thought.

The story
Roland is the son of an expat Army man, stepbrother to his older siblings who live in the UK. A childhood in Libya, boarding school back in England, a life led with false starts, regrets. A German wife who leaves him with his 7 month old son. A life that stretches into old age, the world evolves and muddles along, we see the world from Roland’s eyes and heart.

My thoughts
Like most people’s lives, the inane mingles with the extraordinary. We see things, we love, we cry. We lose people we love, we have regrets. Halfway through, I was struggling to keep reading and still unsure of my feelings about this story. Towards the end, Roland deals with buried truths, and I started to enjoy the story. But this is not an easy read. It’s detailed and deep and takes time. And there should be a mammoth list of trigger warnings. A bit like life itself.

Never has Ian McEwan been as ambitious in his writing projects. Due to be published on September 13, Lessons is a refreshing and rewarding opus spanning several generations and historical (un)doings. It resists 'collective amnesia' with the indefatigability of its (re)-turns to historical events. But this act of counteroblivion is also symptomatic of love and keen curiosity. In this respect, McEwan reveals the mechanics of his project rather matter-of-factly (as per his preferred mode) towards the end of the novel: Roland Baines, in his seventies, is said to be contemplating what we could call, with Blanchot, the 'Book to Come' -- an 'imaginary history' of the hundred years of the twenty-first century, most of which lie beyond his reach. How he desires to peruse this as yet inexistent book's contents page, if nothing else!

This desire is key: the full thrust of this novel is located in the assumptions underlying this magnetic immersion in history. What McEwan accomplishes in Lessons, through Baines's personal-historical and multi-memoiristic narration, is indeed epic in scope: the protagonist relays the revised entirety of his existence, alongside the story of his family, friends, lovers, and alongside that of the twentieth century, in a metahistorical-cum-literary replica of that very same book-to-come. Indeed, it is most tempting to suggest that another mechanism, or thematic-structural layer, is at work here, through McEwan's trademark back-and-forth narrative mode, which further sustains the idea of continuity and consistency in seeming or momentary rupture. In a deliberate move, in fact, it becomes progressively tougher to identify, distinguish, and decipher the textual points in which the different strands spill over into each other. Elegantly and superbly executed, these piling transitions accumulate echoing stories and take McEwan's seamless storytelling to an unprecedented, new level entirely, laying bare -- as I would wish to suggest -- the full force of its magnificence. In every solid, lengthy chapter, and on every wholesome page, he explores with controlled yet delightful passion bordering on obsession the notion that the historical is also personal, and that the personal is also, indeed, historical. 'Controlled yet delightful' is what makes this an important 5+ stars for me: in this novel, perhaps urged by its autobiographical components, McEwan surrenders more generously to his number one skill -- storytelling. This is not to say that it does not require preparation and presence of mind: McEwan will be McEwan. But the narrative's sheer amplitude does indeed soften -- subtly diluting -- his characteristic, rigorously defined framing of his shorter novels. (Think Amsterdam or On Chesil Beach, for instance.) In this sense, therefore, the length and breadth of Lessons is -- I am inclined to argue -- fully motivated. Not only does it diffuse that laconic crispness and allow for tenderness to prevail, but it also and additionally contributes to the sheer joy of storytelling -- both individual and collective -- which makes it downright irresistible.

The title itself is equally suggestive: it is as simple as they get, no doubt, and yet it is made to penetrate the nooks and crannies of all the narrative folds, and is reinterpreted at every pit stop of Roland's narration. Lessons, of course, marks the momentous event in Roland Baines's life, the very same that 'rewires' -- as is suggested several times -- his brain: that is, his piano lessons with Miriam Cornell when he was eleven years old -- to her mid-twenties -- attending Berners Hall boarding school, and the ensuing life-defining passionate affair. An intimacy never again experienced, for both parties, which was consummated when Roland was fourteen years old, afflicted and alarmed by the thought of his life possibly coming to an end -- because, in history, the early 1960s delivered their own momentous event, the Cuban Missile Crisis.

In this fashion, Roland retraces history's steps by and while retracing his own steps; his first wife (Alissa) and her steps, leading up to complete desertion of the family and devotion to her literary endeavours; their previous generations' failings; and the equally trying steps of the future generations -- his son Lawrence and his own children. Through Jane's journals -- Alissa's mother -- he delves into the White Rose and existence-resistance during the War, while setting the tone for Alissa's decision to break the cycle of past departures from one's own ambitions. Through Alissa's German friends, Ruth and Florian, he narrates the unjust, horrific suffering brought about by the Berlin Wall, and the rush of possibility collectively experienced in 1989, which in turn allows him to ponder the 'so many lessons unlearned' by and within history, with the displaced walls emerging in New Mexico, for instance. The polar ends of the novel too refer to this personal-historical movement: the driving force of the initial present of the narrative is the general concern around nuclear power and radiation, and in its concluding part it remembers the ominous, unpredictable, and discomforting present of our COVID age. Moreover, his son and wife, Ingrid, hail in a generation inevitably far more conscious of and invested in the issues raised by climate.change: this is one of the main fields Lawrence takes interest in and pursues, which also introduces him to oceanographer Ingrid. This is McEwan, of course: nothing is left to chance. And yet, more than ever, McEwan seems to be ready to concede that, indeed, chance bends and moulds lives in impossibly minute ways and details. (Missed) lessons and reckonings are the foundations of life...and history.

McEwan readers, do not fear! The literary territory meticulously fabricated by this magnificent writer in all his previous novels is actually further refined and extended in Lessons. Sustained cultural references of all sorts -- music-related and literary, of course, but also political, and variously historical -- find their rightful place in Roland's narration. Added to this is the brilliant McEwan wit and erudition, which return to amuse the captives of good literature. Interestingly, there is much displacement at work in this novel. Though Roland writes poetry and dabbles in journalism from time to time, it was not in McEwan's interest to present him as one of the most accomplished authors of his time. No, Roland is your relatively average, fairly underachieved, inconstant human being, telling his tale of youth (the extended parallelism with Conrad's Marlow in 'Youth' is particularly striking), ageing, and encounters with death (most notably through Daphne). But he will carry out his metaliterary duty, as it were, through other characters -- in his reflections on Alissa's publications and her literary fame, in particular. Stylistically, Roland's own narration is also firmly introspective, without however disrupting the established narrative flow, suspended as it is between the most ordinary aspects of existence and its most momentous events. Incredibly, McEwan never loses sight of this, nor does he take unnecessary detours.

As I sit here writing -- bedazzled by his latest offering, and feeling positively bereft at its close -- it strikes me that there remains only one story to tell: of a 17th novel, by this author, (im)possibly being his best one yet...With the very best traits of his very best novels, combined in one Best Novel, and enhanced.


Many many sincere thanks go to NetGalley, publisher, and even greater ones to McEwan, for the advance copy of this brilliant novel. These are but a few stray initial thoughts on what will undoubtedly be a much talked and written about work.

I must confess I am usually a big fan of Ian McEwan but this novel confuses me. Yes, it’s well written, it covers lots of the 20th and 21st century partially from a micro level through the eyes of Roland and at the macro level in what feels like lists of events that are now historical. Was Roland meant to appear as such a self-centred, self-absorbed and selfish character and totally boring too boot?

I have reread the publishers blurb and realise I gained very little of the lessons contained in the story. To me it was rather tedious tale which I had to force myself to finish.

Highly autobiographical, McEwan takes us on a journey from childhood to adolescence, by travelling the world. Full of highs and lows, twists and turns, the great storyteller has done it again. Gut wrenching and heartfelt, I didn't want this book to end.

Thank you to NetGalley for sending me an ARC!

Roland is 37 when his wife leaves him and their 7 month old son, Lawrence. She leaves him a note telling him that she has been living the wrong life.
Roland is a poet and is now a single parent, he has reported his wife missing, DI Brown is puzzled by the postcards she sends Roland, and Roland finds himself under suspicion.
Roland struggles with insomnia, and finds his mind wandering back to his school days, his music teacher and what happens between them when he is a young teenager.
I found the story difficult to read, boring in places, sometimes I liked Roland and other times I wanted to scream at him. I have enjoyed some of Ian McEwan’s previous books, he is a master at setting a scene and drawing the reader in but unfortunately I didn’t enjoy this one and I gave up half way through.
Thanks to Net Galley and Random House UK for an ARC of this book in exchange for a review.

I have read numerous books by Ian McEwan, Saturday is my favourite, he is without doubt one of most talented writers we have. That said, two of his books have missed the mark with me, this is one, the other is Chesil Beach. His scene setting, character development is usually second to none but I'm sorry to say that I found this book overlong and actually boring. Roland is such a weak, unlikeable character. Most of the others aren't much better. Yes, I know he suffered a traumatic event as a schoolboy but he drifts through life without seeming to ever make a decision. The reason I've liked the majority of McEwan's books is because he takes one one moment in time, one decision that changes the course of his character's life. It's so real and true to life. In this book you get the event but there is so much else going on that at no point do you really get the sense that this has shaped the rest of Roland's life. I don't mind a bit of introspection but almost the entire book is nothing else. McEwan is a clever man and he clearly has strong opinions on 20th / 21st century events and I felt that this book was just a vehicle for his beliefs and so a bit self indulgent. Its valid but it makes it quite a slog of a book and gives the impression of being lectured to.
Not for me I'm afraid.

Ian McEwan has a wonderful gift of bringing to life well fleshed, flawed and multi faceted characters. Nobody is ever just "good" or "bad" as he captures how imperfect mankind is in all his writings.
Lessons focuses on the lifetime of Roland Baines, born on the tail end of WW2 and on the cusp of moving to boarding school after a lifetime of jumping from army base to army base with his parents. He is encouraged to start piano lessons and his first encounter with his piano teacher initiates a relationship that will echo and impact his life.
The base of the story begins in the mid 80s in London as Roland is finding his feet as a newly single parent. As this timeline progresses alternating chapters bounce back to seminal moments in his earlier life as we begin to understand him more.
True to form McEwan sprinkles his stories with historical moments and figures, which I always enjoy
I struggled with this for the first third of the novel as while a lot happens it is definitely slow paced, where it got to the point I may have left it aside. However I am so glad I pushed through as the final two thirds of Lessons are exquisite.
This is an honest review in exchange for an ARC, thank you to the publisher and author

Not only an essential late work, but quite possibly McEwan's best novel. Huge in sweep and emotional reach, and possessing both the compulsiveness of classic, top-form McEwan (Atonement, Enduring Love) and a return to early intricate, depraved nastiness (The Cement Garden, The Comfort of Strangers), Lessons is an exceptional, mesmerising odyssey, all the better for being so unexpected after comparative fiddle-abouts like Nutshell and The Cockroach.

On one level this is, to put it very succinctly: a volatiley fragile predator destroys a young boy's life. But it's so much more.

Thank you to NetGalley for this advance copy, in return for an honest review.

‘Bookends, the end of books,’ muses the protagonist of Ian McEwan’s The Lesson as he tosses the journal notes of a lifetime into a fire pit. His quip could raise a giggle in the long-running BBC comedy show ‘I’m sorry I Haven’t a Clue,’ a quiz billed as ‘the antidote to panel games.’ In a similar spirit, The Lesson aspires to be a sort of antidote to the Bildungsroman, at least a British version beset with the peculiarly British conceit of being at the centre of all things.
The novel is drawn out but fast-paced, in the sense of crisp short sentences that slot together with the precision of Tetris. But it is Tetris, set to a mode that always lets you win, and where is the fun in that? Despite its brio, at the novel’s core is desperation. A sense that pleasures and intrigues cannot on their own make a story, let alone a life. There must be resolution—the last piece of the jigsaw lost and later found on the floor. Like his youthful protagonist, a prodigy, McEwan is a virtuoso reluctant to fulfil his potential—“He mumbled his way round the accusative forms of the definitive article.”
This prose enchants you and leads you into stories, novels within stories, inner-lives, and the stories within them. The narrative threads, there are many, cross the surface, register, and are consigned to carry on beyond awareness in foreign places. Lives are passed around like babies from hand to hand. Lovers renege. Their needs never entangle. With love-making, it is normally easy to uncouple.
The big title lesson is little more than an awareness of folly; folly that can’t be unlearned or sniped off.
The book kicks off with romance that turns out to be coercion. But, McEwan kneads and softens it, aligning it with the pornographic trope of the music teacher who leans in to grab the attention of her pupil. In this world, perversion, even paedophilia, is a rhetorical figure, something interesting to think about. After that, there is the lesson of desertion. Giving up love for art, where life can be narrated more vividly than it can be lived. Turn the page, and there is the lesson of being falsely accused, of living without knowing the truth. These and other lessons are cooked up in a delirious swirl of Miss Marple village life and cold-war Berlin, a historical sweep from the Tripartite Aggression, through Thatcherism, to the pandemic. It’s a portrait in worthy detail as much of a desperate nation as a life lived there. You could carry away the idea that a self-made author would be the saviour of such a place. A lone independent voice empowered to see and tell. Because so many complications offer lessons that are not easy to convey. McEwan is prepared to chip away at the problem until, in the end, the protagonist’s inability to be anything more than somewhat fascinated by the life-long effect of his childhood abuse is all that’s left. It’s a weak capitulation as if taking stock of a situation is equivalent to finding a new equilibrium.
Men, like the book’s narrator, imagine the heroic fight for a better life. They drag things out and leave them in a mess for someone else to fold and tidy up. They marvel at the magic. Instead of doing anything, instead of standing to get the job done, they cogitate. When it comes to mistakes, in this book, it’s the traditional British stiff upper lip approach, denial. McEwan gives the lip modern botox treatment. It makes for a great read, but it is cosmetic.

Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for this advanced copy in return for an honest review.

This book is excellently written and takes you on a full and complete journey of the last 100 years or so. It was completely immersive and captivating. It felt a little bit long at times but I found I was still eager to read on and find out about Roland and his life. There are sections that go into great detail about other characters and how they shaped and had an impact on Roland and his family’s life.
There was an almost melancholy feel to the book as the character explores major historic events and their impact on his life particularly the more difficult aspects but I was overall left with a warm and uplifting impression of this characters long life and history.
Really glad I took the time to read this immense and epic story of one man’s history.

Sadly requested this not realising it wasn't an audiobook.
I reallllllly wanted to read this but I will wait and hope for an audio version.
Being registered blind it is becoming increasingly difficult to actually read!
Sadly I will not be giving feedback as unable to 'read' - such a shame!
Sorry Netgalley but I thank you as always for an opportunity and hope this ARC is available soon!

When I read a new Ian McEwan I wonder will this one be as good as Atonement ? They almost never are, but this one nearly is. An expansive story of Roland Baines' life from more than 70 years ago to the present day and the slow disclosement of the complexities of his life and family. The title refers to the piano lessons he had at boarding school which had such an influence on the whole of his life. Its a considerable achievement

I am a massive fan of Ian McEwan, and his work has never disappointed me, so I approached this work with trepidation. The length, as well as the description of an introverted character juxtaposed with world events over many years, suggested this might not work.

I was pleasantly surprised and as gripped by this as any other McEwan work. The premise sounds contrived, and in the hands of another writer, it might not work, but I found this flowed freely, and the references were interwoven carefully and appropriately and added to the narrative.

This is very character-driven, and as well as Roland, other characters stayed with me long after the last page. There is a beautiful empathy in the prose, which could be explained by the autobiographical elements.
There is so much in this book that I would love to see Lawrence's story further explored in another work in the future.

As a musician, I appreciated the accuracy of the detail around the music performances - this is not always the case in general fiction.

A lovely example of how history can be explored through fiction.

Thank you, Net Galley, for the ARC

I have read other books by Ian McEwan, so was pleased to receive an ARC of this one. It was offputting that the book was so long, but it was well written and kept my interest throughout. The book concerns Roland's life, from childhood until advanced age. His life was never boring though at times there were questionable decisions. The book also describes world events which affected life in the UK and Europe, such as the reunification of Germany, the Cuban missile crisis.
One of the baby boomers, born just after the war, the book highlights the differences in attitudes throughout a relatively short period of time. He finds out about his parents lives after his father passes away. The descriptions of school are also interesting and cast consequences into his adult life.
Thanks to Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review

After a rather heavy start, I really enjoyed this book. Well written and assured, it details the life of Roland Baines, in interwoven episodes, mixing past with present, which I found rather awkward at first. However once the rhythm of his family history and his uncomfortable early life has been established, the novel starts to engage and capture the interest. I found some of the historical references and political stances overlong in places, although they reflected and informed his character and actions, and added a solid period backdrop to the narrative. Well worth sticking with the book and getting to the not-unexpected end for an absorbing and enjoyable read.

Not my favourite McEwan. It was well written but overly long and could have done with another edit. I also would have liked to connect with Roland more, he was a bit distant for me.

Another hit from Ian McEwan. Meditative and transporting - 'Lessons' is one of my favourites of his from the last 15 years or so. It seems more grounded than his recent work - and the mix of relatability with a mystery makes for fantastic reading