Tedious, arid, and unconvincing are the words that come to mind as the reader trudges through the nearly 400 pages of Ian McEwan's Sweet Tooth. Writing about an attractive woman in her early 20s in the first person must have been done on a dare; even at a remove, McEwan couldn't vivify such a person in prose to save his life. And his sex scenes are as awful as ever. No steak; not even any sizzle.
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