Wow!

My first encounter with Murdoch's work has been an absolute revelation. It's not just a book; it's a literary masterpiece.

The story is incredibly compelling, drawing you in from the very first page and not letting go until the very end. The density of the narrative and the depth of meaning within each sentence are truly remarkable.

Despite being so rich and complex, the writing is remarkably economical, saying so much with so few words. I found myself completely engrossed, unable to put the book down.

It contains everything that literature should be - beautiful prose, interesting characters, a thought-provoking plot, and a deep exploration of the human condition. It's a minor miracle of a book, and I can't recommend it highly enough.

If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor and pick it up. You won't be disappointed.

**"The Italian Girl": A Mixed Bag of Expectations**

"The Italian Girl" by Iris Murdoch, first published in 1964, had me in a bit of a quandary. I had high hopes, especially as I'm a fan of gothic novels. The back cover promised a "gothic tale told with intelligence and wit," filled with terror, betrayal, love, and an "extraordinary amount of violence." But alas, my expectations were not fully met.

The first chapter did have some moments that could send a shiver down your spine if you let your imagination run wild. Edmund Narraway, the first-person narrator, returns to his family home in the north of England after his mother's death. The description of the dark, locked house and Edmund's inner turmoil set a somewhat spooky tone. But as the story progresses, it veers away from the gothic elements I was craving.

The characters in the book are all rather strange. Edmund's mother, Lydia, had a rather unhealthy relationship with her sons, which led to a childhood filled with jealousy and suffocation. Edmund's brother, Otto, is a drunk with self-destructive tendencies, and his wife, Isabel, is trapped in a miserable marriage. Then there's Flora, Otto and Isabel's daughter, who seems sweet and innocent at first but turns out to be something else entirely. And Elsa, David Levkin's sister, takes the cake for the craziest character with her midnight worm-dancing antics.

One thing that really puzzled me was the title of the book. The Italian girl, Maria Magistretti, or Maggie as she is always called, didn't seem important enough to merit the title for most of the novel. It wasn't until the end that her role became more significant, but even then, I'm not sure she deserved the honor.

Overall, I did like the book, but it wasn't the gothic masterpiece I was hoping for. I still wish there would have been a ghost or at least a gothic castle to add some more atmosphere. However, the story did have its moments, and the characters were complex and interesting enough to keep me engaged. If you're looking for a quick read with some strange and unusual characters, then "The Italian Girl" might be worth checking out. Just don't go in expecting a traditional gothic novel.

Instinctively, I have been keeping away from Iris Murdoch for a very long time. And when I finally reached for her book, I decided to make it the thinnest possible, just in case.

The sixth sense did not deceive me and I know that I have no right to conclude anything - this is just one book, a little book among many others bearing her name. I will not touch them, surely not in the near future.

"The Italian Girl" is a total chaos - as a plot, the revelation of the characters, as ideas, as lines that intersect, but they do it so insanely that the finale only brings relief. The story is completely implausible, the characters are all unsympathetic and seem to not tolerate any kind of development. Returning to the parental home is a favorite motif for me and I always follow with interest how it is interpreted in different works. This is one of the worst versions I have come across.

Two stars are too many, really the book deserves no more than one and a half. But I am a good and compromising person...

This is my fourth novel by Iris Murdoch, and it's quite interesting that the first and third ones ("Under the Net" and "The Sea, the Sea") immediately entered my favorite books, while the second and fourth ones ("A Severed Head" and this one) were simply said to be terrible. "The Italian Girl" is a short novel in which the characters are implausible, their motivations even more so, and almost nothing can be understood from the scattered symbolism. The story is presented to me with unearned emotionality and drama - just dropped from nowhere.

Here, as in her other books, the main hero is a man, an unreliable narrator who is slightly unpleasant, yet no one can precisely determine why. And here there are also inexplicable relationships that I can't recognize with anything from my own experience as a person who has had relationships with others. But in the other two books, this was an organic part of a somewhat quirky, even fantastic storytelling, and in their context, they sounded authentic, plausible, even logical. Here that connection is missing. It seems as if the book was written grudgingly, without much desire. In any case, I wouldn't recommend anyone to waste their time with it. It was极其boring for me. But by all means, read "Under the Net" and "The Sea, the Sea"!

This was my very first encounter with a Murdoch work, and I'm inclined to believe it was a rather poor choice on my part.

The characters within the story simply failed to engage my interest or capture my attention. It was as if they remained distant and unrelatable throughout the entire narrative.

Now, just a few days after having finished it, I find myself struggling to recall even the most basic details of what transpired. I can barely remember which character experienced what events and, more importantly, the reasons behind them.

It's quite disappointing, really, as I had hoped for a more immersive and memorable reading experience. However, based on this initial foray into the world of Murdoch, I'm left with a sense of dissatisfaction and a lack of desire to explore further.

Perhaps I simply chose the wrong book to start with, or maybe Murdoch's writing style is just not to my taste. Either way, this first impression has left me with a rather lukewarm feeling towards her works.

The Iris Murdoch writes exactly such books that I like to read - I can't say it in other words. Fortunately for me, she has written many.

Iris Murdoch is a renowned author whose works have captivated readers around the world. Her writing style is unique, filled with deep insights into human nature and complex relationships.

Each of her books is a literary masterpiece, carefully crafted to engage and challenge the reader. Whether it's a novel exploring the themes of love, morality, or identity, Murdoch's writing always manages to leave a lasting impression.

I am truly grateful that she has written so many books, as it gives me the opportunity to continuously explore and discover the beauty and depth of her literary world.

Complex characters and situations make up the fabric of our lives. At times, it may seem overwhelming, but that's just the way life is. Iris Murdoch, a remarkable author, is a true expert in描绘complicated personalities within what appears to be ordinary daily lives. She has an uncanny ability to delve deep into the human psyche and bring out the hidden aspects of her characters.

Not only is Murdoch a master of creating complex characters, but she is also a virtuoso at uncovering a situation layer by layer, revealing its true depth and significance. Her writing is like a journey of discovery, where the reader is led through a maze of emotions and experiences, gradually uncovering the truth beneath the surface.

Murdoch's works are a testament to her profound understanding of human nature and the complexity of the world we live in. Through her vivid descriptions and intricate plots, she invites us to explore the inner workings of the human mind and the hidden forces that shape our lives. Her writing is both thought-provoking and engaging, leaving a lasting impression on the reader.

A lot packed into a very slim volume!

This concise statement holds a great deal of significance. It implies that within a relatively small or slender book, there is an abundance of content, ideas, or information. It could suggest that the author has managed to compress a wealth of knowledge or a complex story into a concise format.

Perhaps it is a testament to the author's skill in distilling the essence of a subject and presenting it in a concentrated form. The slim volume might offer a quick and accessible read, yet still have the power to engage and inform the reader.

It could also pique the reader's curiosity, making them wonder what exactly is hidden within those few pages. Whether it's a work of fiction, non-fiction, or poetry, the idea of a lot being packed into a slim volume is both intriguing and appealing.

It challenges the notion that size matters and shows that sometimes, the most profound and impactful things can come in small packages.

I probably shouldn't have read this right after "Severed Head". Maybe it was a little too much Iris.

To be honest, it seemed a little simple and a little boring. For all I know, it could be considered her Gatsby. (I thought Gatsby was simple and boring too.) But it never really grabbed me.

The story is about a wood carving semi-hermit who goes back home for his controlling mother's funeral. There, he gets tangled up in his brother's adultery, unhappy marriage, and unwanted teenage pregnancy.

On top of that, there is a missing and ultimately confusing final will and testament. The philosophical point that seems to come across is one of the laziness of accepting your role in relationships.

It makes you think about how we need to be more mindful of what we are really doing. Or maybe this is just a carryover from "Severed Head". I'm not really sure.

Overall, it was an okay read, but not one that I would highly recommend.

My first experience with an Iris Murdoch novel has been quite disappointing, and I'm inclined to say it will be my last, unless someone can persuade me otherwise by recommending a truly outstanding one!

This particular book was a special offer on BookBub for just $1.99, but unfortunately, I wish I had shown more restraint and not purchased it.

Every single character in the story is truly horrid, displaying hurtful behavior and being extremely self-centered. The plot seems to consist of nothing more than a series of rather pathetic encounters between these unlikable characters.

I must admit that I could not detect any literary value in this novel at all. However, I'm always open to hearing different opinions and being told that I'm completely wrong in my assessment.

Oh, and there is one small redeeming factor - the book was relatively short, consisting of only 171 pages. At least it didn't take up too much of my time!

The exact level of chaos that I was anticipating! It was surely not my favorite Murdoch piece. However, it was really cool to witness the foundation of some of her later, more philosophical works.

It's interesting to note how this particular work may have served as a stepping stone for her to explore deeper and more profound ideas in her subsequent writings.

Even though it might not have been my personal favorite, it still holds significance in understanding the evolution of her literary style and thought process.

Perhaps upon further examination, one could uncover hidden gems and subtleties that contribute to the overall tapestry of her body of work.

In conclusion, while it may not have immediately won me over, it has piqued my curiosity and made me eager to explore more of her later, more philosophical masterpieces.

[These notes were made in 1987:] This is an early Murdoch work, and it is less complex compared to some others that I have read. However, it still showcases those curiously labyrinthine patterns of human relationships.

Here, a first-person narrator, Edmund, returns to the family he left behind. The reason for his return is the death of the dominating mother, Lydia, who continues to have a presence throughout the story. Edmund, a precise and (in his own opinion) rather sexless man, has a gross brother named Otto, an intense and frustrated sister-in-law, Isabel, and a pre-Raphaelite-looking niece, Flora.

In addition to these family members, the household also includes Otto's apprentice (he is a stoneworker) and his wild sister, Elsa. Almost every chapter astonishes poor old Edmund with a new revelation. And quietly, in the background, stands the anonymous Maggie, "the Italian girl," who is the last in a series of nurses in the family. Her secret - that she loves Edmund, as he loves her - is the very last to be revealed, both to us and to the self-ignorant Edmund.

The other secrets are complex enough: Otto is having an affair with Elsa, while her brother David has made Flora pregnant and is also sleeping with Isabel. At various moments, the supposedly asexual Edmund discovers himself attracted to all of the women in the story. This bare outline does not even begin to hint at either the tremendously skilful use of language that is Murdoch's hallmark or the complexities of feeling that lie beneath the surface in this work, as in all of her works.