Can someone please rewind time, or transport me back to a world when Iris Murdoch was alive, writing about her contemporary times?

Just like her maniacal characters, I am completely obsessed with her writing. In the simplest of languages, she has the remarkable power to create a world that simply doesn't make me want to leave it.

In a span of less than 200 pages, this woman has presented a story that will shock you, frighten you, and make you swoon with delight while being between the pages of her vivid imagination.

Here, we follow Edmund, an ageing man who has returned home to attend his mother's funeral after years of avoiding the family. In the walls of the house, disruption reeks. Otto, his brother, Isabel, his brother's wife, their child Flora, the Italian help, and an apprentice are all living lives that will ensnare Edmund. He would be caught in the web of their triangles, trying to be a mediator of sorts.

While all this is happening, Edmund himself is undergoing a moral paralysis, or perhaps a change, should we say? Well, that's for the reader to discover, I suggest.

Published in 1964, Edmund's character could potentially be a precursor to the idiosyncratic Charles from her award-winning novel 'The Sea, The Sea'. Perhaps. One is never entirely sure. That's precisely why I say, I wish she were alive. So that I could sit and talk to her over tea, overlooking a lush English garden because I am certain she would prefer nothing less.

With her vivid imagination of描绘 places, especially corners of nature with such fine details, Murdoch's settings can transform any plot that occurs under the human eye. I may be being presumptuous, further, to add that the novel made me recall Ali Smith's 2005-novel 'The Accidental'. A stranger walking into a dysfunctional family, causing more trouble and a young girl stirring the plot. Did Ali Smith unconsciously pay a tribute to Murdoch? By shifting the protagonist from an older man to a young girl? I suppose I am thinking far too much.

Whatever may be the case, all I can say is: I adored this book! It's a masterpiece in writing shorter stories where not one detail is overlooked. It's a work from which, when read attentively, a plethora of things can be learned. From writing, creating sensorial settings, to thinking about characters that are complex and well-crafted, it is a book that I will not forget in the near future. God, please bless me with the luck and rain Iris Murdoch books on me.

Someday, I'll have a profound understanding and know exactly what to say about Iris Murdoch.

Her works are like a vast and mysterious universe waiting to be explored.

For now, I still have 30 books of hers to go through.

Each page is a new adventure, filled with complex characters and thought-provoking themes.

I can feel myself getting closer to understanding her unique perspective on life and human nature with every turn of the page.

Although it may seem like a daunting task, I'm excited about the journey ahead.

I know that by the time I've finished reading all 30 books, I'll have a much deeper appreciation for this remarkable author and her body of work.

Until then, I'll continue to immerse myself in the world of Iris Murdoch and let her words inspire and challenge me.

“You know as well as I do that one can be imprisoned in one’s mind.”

This is a novella of around 170 pages, published in 1964. It strikes me as quite typical of Murdoch, having read a few of her works. She creates a group of unlikable characters and maneuvers them like pieces on a chessboard.

Edmund Narraway is the narrator. His mother, Lydia, has just passed away, and he must return to the family home, a rather large one with grounds, of course. Here live his brother Otto and Otto’s wife, Isabel. Also present are Flora (Otto and Isabel’s daughter), Maria (essentially a cook/housekeeper, the Italian Girl), David (Otto’s apprentice/helper, as Otto is a sculptor of sorts), and Elsa (David’s sister). Edmund has been away from home for quite some time as he had a falling out with his mother.

“I had no craving for luxuries and never had had, but I did not honour poverty for its own sake and disliked its indignities and inconveniences. I lived a solitary life.”

Everyone seems to be having sex with everyone else (except for Edmund and Maria), and as always with Murdoch, who is a philosopher, agency is crucial, and it all revolves around Maria, although this doesn't become evident until late in the novel. Murdoch also knows how to pen an aphorism, and since this is about a death, there are numerous reflections on it.

‘It is not punishment, it’s acceptance of death that alters the soul, that is God’.

There are plenty of thoughts on death, but another theme is hedonism versus the ethical life (neither of which is particularly appealing here).

It's all a bit gothic and melodramatic, making this rather far-fetched. It's not my favorite Murdoch, and the fairy tale element (enchanted woods and all that) didn't resonate with me either.

I was initially quite optimistic when I delved into this book. The gothic setup in the first chapter truly appealed to me. Edmund, having returned home upon the death of his mother, was skulking around the family home in the dark. It introduced us to a highly dysfunctional family structure, and Murdoch effectively demonstrated her writing skills through Edmund's internal monologue. Phrases like "she was my self-contempt" really stuck with me.

Unfortunately, things took a downward turn from there. Generally speaking, the characters, especially our narrator Edmund, were uncompelling, unlikeable, and underdeveloped. The plot lacked both substance and drive. Luckily, the book was only 170 pages long; otherwise, I probably would have given up. The titular Italian girl was virtually a nonentity, lacking any real personality or intrigue. This made the ending particularly bizarre and dissatisfying, as it lacked any build-up and failed to resolve many issues. It also felt rather creepy, considering that Maggie was Edmund's nanny as a child, and now they were supposedly in love. The dialogue "you were so very beautiful when you were seventeen" left me speechless. It was a horrible piece of dialogue. Similarly, Edmund's sexualization of Flora was extremely uncomfortable to read and just plain gross. I was relieved to have made it to the end of the book without that becoming one of the "hidden passions" mentioned in the blurb. All in all, it was a pretty disappointing read.

Even though I'm only giving it three stars, I still loved it.

It was such an engaging read that I raced through it in just a couple of days.

Admittedly, it was a bit trashier than the average Murdoch work.

However, that didn't stop me from thoroughly enjoying it.

The story had its own charm and kept me hooked from start to finish.

Despite its flaws, it had a certain allure that made it difficult to put down.

I found myself getting lost in the pages and forgetting about the world around me.

Even though it might not be a literary masterpiece, it was definitely an entertaining read that I would recommend to others.

So, if you're looking for a quick and enjoyable read, give this one a try.

You might be surprised at how much you end up liking it.

My very first Murdoch novel.

Despite its relatively slim size, this novel managed to evoke within me a wide range of emotions in just a couple of days.

It was truly a remarkable work by a master storyteller.

The way Murdoch weaves the plot and develops the characters is simply outstanding.

Each page is filled with depth and complexity, drawing the reader in and making them reluctant to put the book down.

The novel explores themes such as love, loss, and the human condition with great sensitivity and insight.

It is a testament to Murdoch's skill as a writer that she can create such a powerful and engaging story in a relatively short space.

I am now eager to explore more of her works and see what other literary treasures she has in store.

This first encounter with a Murdoch novel has truly been a memorable one.

This book truly embodies all the characteristics that are typical of a Murdoch novel. It has that certain charm and allure that is so distinctively hers. However, in some ways, it stands out as being less complex compared to her later works. There is a certain subtlety to it that is quite captivating.

Murdoch has this remarkable ability to continuously excite and entice the reader, even though her recurrent themes often revolve around death, adultery, and the darker side of human relations. It's as if she is able to draw us in, despite the often uncomfortable and challenging subject matter.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, just like I have enjoyed many of her other 'better' works. Each one seems to offer a unique perspective and a new exploration of the human condition. It's no wonder that Murdoch is regarded as such a talented and influential writer.

I had a hidden hope from this short novel. When I stepped back a little and looked at it after its end, I could say that it was neatly written and its structure was well organized. However, when I got closer, it was leaking and oozing from every corner. It was a narrative that could be accepted as the treatment of a film, decorated with extremely exaggerated family relationships and secrets; I could never understand the breaking points in the development of the characters; and it was scattered with strange catharses in abundance. This was too much. Bourgeois criticism should not be like this. While the homoerotic subtext established between Otto and David could have been dealt with in a delicious way, the author had erased and erased that too. I don't recommend it, friends. There are much better novels.

I wish you good readings.

“The Italian Girl”, Iris Murdoch, published by “Riva”, translated by Iglica Vasileva.

At the end of a busy week, I decided to pick up a thinner book, but I couldn't have imagined what universe was hidden in Murdoch's work.

I think it's appropriate to draw attention to the personality of Iris. She is a highly regarded English writer and philosopher (1919–1999), known for her numerous novels and philosophical works in the field of existentialism. An interesting personality of Irish origin, she left a significant legacy in literature and philosophy. The literary community has created an award in her honor, which is awarded for outstanding literary works or research on Murdoch's work, with an emphasis on innovative and original approaches.

1. **Iris Murdoch Award for Research** – An award that can be given for academic research related to Murdoch's work and philosophical ideas.

2. **Iris Murdoch Prize for Fiction** – Given to authors of literary fiction who demonstrate the depth and style characteristic of Murdoch's writing.

In addition, various universities and institutions dealing with literature and philosophy also organize events and competitions dedicated to her.

After all this, I will briefly talk about the book. “The Italian Girl” begins with Edmund's return to his family home for the funeral of his mother, actually Linda, because she didn't like to be called “mom”. In this short, but extremely intense book, with each subsequent page, Murdoch immerses us deeper and deeper into the story of Edmund's family, which remains to live in the house. At the same time, the author poses numerous themes related to the family, sexuality, anti-Semitism, and many other issues. The action develops with a specific rhythm, and Murdoch's rich prose elevates the experience to a different level, skillfully incorporating elements of storytelling and even magical narration.

If you like a strong dose of family melodrama, this wonderful novel, with its so complex characters who live in a reality shown as if through a distorted mirror of things, will definitely appeal to you. Despite all the chaos and destruction – one funeral, one accidental death, countless betrayals – when you close the book, there is a feeling of peace and satisfaction.

This is a book that must be read and “experienced”. Iris Murdoch is an author who, as you read, seems to secretly manage to peek into the hidden corners of the soul, where we carefully hide our secrets even from ourselves, and expose them to us.

It is extremely sad that although there are published works of hers in Bulgarian, they clearly do not manage to reach a wider circle of readers. I hope her work does not drown in the book abyss.

I feel rather bad about giving this book a 3-star rating.

To be honest, it didn't manage to capture my undivided attention as I had initially hoped.

From the very beginning, I was期待着 it to be a captivating read that would keep me hooked until the very end. However, as I delved deeper into the story, I found myself getting easily distracted.

The plot seemed to lack that certain spark that would have made it truly engaging.

Although there were some interesting moments here and there, they were not enough to sustain my interest throughout the entire book.

Perhaps it was the writing style or the pacing that didn't quite click with me.

Nonetheless, I can't deny that there were aspects of the book that had potential.

It just didn't fully live up to my expectations.

Overall, while it wasn't a terrible read, it also didn't leave a lasting impression on me.

SI VEDRÀ. NON AVERE PAURA

On the cover, the portrait of Wally by Egon Schiele.

A classic literary topos, and perhaps even more so in cinema: the return home. It doesn't have to be that of the prodigal son. Usually, it's the return of a child, whether male or female, who, upon coming into contact with their family of origin, reconnects, brings knots to the comb, and lights fuses. The distance, both geographical and temporal, of the detachment seems to vanish as soon as one sets foot in the house and reconnects with brothers, sisters, parents, and relatives. "Relatives are snakes," said Mario Monicelli, who knew well about snake pits.

Edmund returns home for the funeral of his elderly mother. The deceased woman was despotic and authoritarian. But now she is no more. Edmund would like to stay only for a few hours, but instead he stays longer. The Italian girl in the title is the maid, and now that the elderly woman is dead, she has no more reason to stay. In her, Edmund sees something he was looking for. Or, perhaps, he rediscovers it. The destination at this point is common, Rome.

The narrative voice is that of Edmund, through which Murdoch alternates pleasant dialogues with beautiful descriptions. In the text, there are also some rare, scattered words in Italian, distinguished in italics. Rome emerges as the objective in the final part: I read this novel in my first days in Rome, the beginning of a long period that is still not concluded.

A thought that is an observation without any criticism: this excellent English writer has been translated and published, but now only very few of her works are accessible. Reprint her? Unfortunately, given the rather relative success of the first editions, the new sales would not justify the investment. And so we are losing her. Sigh.

Uzun uzun düşünmelerden sonra, elime ne geçmişti ki.

I realized that I was powerless to heal the wounds of others. However, during this time, I became aware of my own wounds.

I always thought that I had transcended life, that I had overcome it. But in the end, I understood that all I had been doing was running away from life.

No, I had not overcome anything; I was nothing but a so-called religious person, a coward.

This realization hit me hard, like a punch in the gut. It made me question everything I had believed in and everything I had done.

I had to face the fact that I was not as strong as I thought I was, and that I had a long way to go in order to truly heal and grow.

But perhaps this was the first step towards a better understanding of myself and a more meaningful life.