McEwan wanted to write a novel dealing with the social turmoil of the 1970s, and Sweet Tooth is to a large extent based on his own life.

The story explores the relationship between artistic integrity and government propaganda, and addresses competing approaches to literature; the boundary between reality and fiction is tested throughout.

[2] Critical reception was mixed; some reviewers found the novel moving and poignant, while others saw it as weaker than much of McEwan's previous work.

Serena Frome ("rhymes with plume"), the daughter of an Anglican bishop, shows a talent for mathematics and is admitted to the University of Cambridge.

While at Cambridge she becomes romantically involved with Tony Canning, a professor, who before abruptly ending the affair secures a position for Serena with MI5.

The job is low-level, but a more exciting opportunity appears when Serena is offered a chance to take part in a new covert programme codenamed "Sweet Tooth".

To counter Communist propaganda during the Cold War, the agency wants to offer financial assistance to young writers, academics and journalists with an anti-Communist bent.

[6] Several of McEwan's acquaintances from this period also make cameo appearances in the novel, including his friend Martin Amis, his first publisher Tom Maschler, and his mentor Ian Hamilton.

[1] McEwan plays with these differences, firstly by placing himself in the novel and blurring the line between author and character, and secondly by writing what appears to be a straight first-person narrative, only to distort this perception at the very end.

"[7] For the United Kingdom it was a turbulent period, with striking miners, energy crisis, escalation of the conflict over Northern Ireland, repeated states of emergency and several shifts of government.

Operation Sweet Tooth is entirely fictional, but the story is inspired by the actual scandal affecting the conservative literary magazine Encounter, which in 1967 was revealed to have received covert funding from the CIA.

[13] Julie Myerson of The Observer enjoyed the "Russian doll" of the novel's multiple layers, and its "keen emotional pull."

"[5] Benjamin Errett, writing for the National Post, pointed out how McEwan had blended spy fiction and literary criticism to a combination that was both exciting and intellectually stimulating.

"[16] James Lasdun of The Guardian found that there were "momentous political questions" raised in the earlier parts of the novel, which were not fully addressed by the end.