Nutshell 

Ian McEwan is a giant of English literature, who is known for intricate, detail-obsessed storytelling (Atonement), but he is also a master of small stories. His latest novel is a short murder mystery told from the perspective of a late-stage fetus who has picked up quite a lot about the outer world by listening to podcasts and conversations. His mother Trudy, it turns out, is plotting an awful scheme against her husband John. Her partner in crime is her lover, her husband’s banal and obnoxious brother Claude.

The novel does not attempt to give any plausibility to our protagonist’s observations and reflections, which makes this a less gimmicky plot device than it otherwise could be. It is simply something the reader accepts. But at times our fetal narrator’s musings on subjects ranging from Islam to identity politics are too indistinguishable from McEwan’s own Guardian editorials. Don’t get me wrong – McEwan’s a smart guy, but this stuff feels out of place in an otherwise engaging story.

It’s a short novel that keeps your attention, not because of especially surprising plot twists and clues, but because the near-helplessness of our narrator adds a layer of intimate horror to the proceedings. Nutshell is not McEwan’s best work, but still worth the read. 3.5 stars, rounded up.