You enter the lives of a group of characters.

Each of them is engaged in a fierce struggle to understand the complex web of their existence, adapt to the ever-changing circumstances that surround them, find a sense of purpose that gives meaning to their days, and even manage to enjoy the precious moments of their lives.

Interestingly, there isn't a traditional, linear plot that guides their journey. Instead, the characters know each other only circumstantially, brought together by the random twists and turns of fate.

They all find themselves at crucial junctures where they need to make important decisions that will shape their future.

Amidst this chaos, an unexpected manipulator emerges, taking precedence over a supposed enchanter. This unexpected turn of events adds an element of mystery and intrigue to their already tumultuous lives, leaving them to grapple with the consequences of this new power dynamic.

As you follow their story, you are drawn into a world of uncertainty, where the characters' fates hang in the balance and the outcome remains to be seen.

Bb's first encounter with Iris Murdoch! One day, I randomly selected this book from my shelf, hoping to detox from the intense and hasty reading that I usually do on my Kindle. However, it turns out that it's not the Kindle's fault. I raced through this book, almost intoxicated by Murdoch's strange scenarios and elegant observations.

To truly appreciate this work, I felt that I had to disconnect my brain from the plot and learn to view all interactions and characters as allegories for something, perhaps obsession or enchantment. If you are interested in a neatly constructed plot with well-behaved characters treating each other nicely, then this is not the book for you.

Murdoch's writing style is both captivating and challenging. Her use of language and the depth of her characters make for a unique reading experience. It forces the reader to think and analyze, rather than simply following a linear narrative.

Overall, I'm glad I picked up this book, despite its initial challenges. It has opened my eyes to a new way of reading and understanding literature. I look forward to exploring more of Iris Murdoch's works in the future.

What I enjoy most in a book is to get partway into one and find that I'm reading something quite unlike anything I've read before. This novel is very much like that.

I have been stalking the used bookstores for years looking for a copy of Under The Net, and have not found one. But fate had something else in store for me. I did find this particular book and quickly picked it up.

Very soon afterwards, I was writing to a friend, telling her that I was reading a strange book, but a good one, that was very unusual. It belongs to that small handful of books that glide along on a well-crafted narrative. From one bizarre scene piled on top of the next, it takes the reader on a wild ride. By the time you've come to the end, you feel as though you've been to the carnival, filled with excitement, wonder, and a sense of having experienced something truly unique.

This book has managed to capture my attention from the very beginning and has held it firmly until the very end. It's a testament to the power of good storytelling and the ability of a book to transport its readers to another world.

I absolutely adored this book!!!! Just like in "The Bell", the characters seem to leap off the page and take on a life of their own.

The author has a remarkable talent for interconnecting the various characters in the most unexpected ways. She carefully selects only three or four of them to use the omniscient voice, and those particular characters truly capture your attention and make you eager to return to the story.

I found Mischa to be extremely intriguing. I really wished that the author would have used the omniscient voice with him as well. However, perhaps that would have diminished his power. I had the impression that he was the Enchanter, and maybe keeping his thoughts and motives somewhat mysterious added to his allure.

Overall, this book was a captivating read that kept me engaged from start to finish. I can't wait to see what the author comes up with next.

The fifties were a truly strange time in England and on the continent.

In England, there was a sense of post-war recovery and a newfound optimism, yet there were also underlying tensions and social changes. The country was still dealing with the aftermath of World War II, but at the same time, there was a growing interest in new forms of entertainment and culture.

On the continent, the fifties were a time of significant political and social upheaval. Many countries were experiencing rapid economic growth and modernization, but this also brought with it challenges such as rising inequality and social unrest.

Overall, the fifties were a decade of contrasts and contradictions, a time when the old was giving way to the new and the future was full of both promise and uncertainty. It was a time that would have a profound impact on the development of both England and the continent in the decades to come.

At first, I was truly perplexed about what this book was trying to convey. There is a substantial number of characters, each playing crucial roles, and I simply couldn't fathom how it all fit together. Of course, from the title, it was evident that there was one person who bound everyone in some manner, but his character was as elusive as his actual self was to the other characters within the story.

The conclusion I ultimately reached was that everyone in the story looked to Mischa Fox for answers and guidance. They each depended on him in different ways (except, arguably, one character who was the most independent and self-assured of them all), regarding him as Fate, the one who could determine their destinies. Once they relied on him, they abandoned themselves and allowed themselves to be carried away. However, in the end, Rosa Keepe realized that it was never Mischa – it was always her own decisions. But it's easier to convince oneself that one's decisions are being made for one, that there was no other way, that one didn't really mean to do this or that, but was compelled to do so. People aren't like tropical fish in a large bowl, insects on the ground in Italy, or animals on a tapestry. People are living, breathing, autonomous beings who make their own choices and must be responsible for them, facing the consequences and maintaining agency. They can't blame others for their decisions. Rosa has to face the photograph, Annette has to accept her worldview, John has to admit how he really feels, Hunter has to grow up, and Nina had another option.

It turns out that the enchanter isn't the obvious choice – Mischa – but oneself. If we're always fleeing from ourselves, we'll never be happy. We'll never accept the weight of our decisions and choices and bear the responsibility. There comes a time when everything has to stop, we have to face it, and we have to keep going. No more flying, just living.

For me, this book isn't nearly as beloved as Under the Net, but I did enjoy it. Murdoch had this remarkable gift for making me eager to read more, for making me feel connected and wanting to piece everything together. Her writing is so strange – these bizarre things occur in real-world settings, yet they somehow make sense within the context of her stories. I love that she goes there. Her writing is detailed, and in this book, sometimes perhaps even superfluously so, but it also has momentum. I wanted to know what would happen next. She builds up suspense in interesting ways. In this book, there is a great deal of commentary about society and culture, which I found quite enjoyable. The immigrant issue is prominently featured, and I love the contrast between Nina's story and that of the Lusiewicz brothers (and I just noticed the alternate spelling "Lucifer" and now wonder about that name...) in this context, especially considering what Calvin Blick tells Rosa in the end, that England wouldn't really deport the immigrants, but that those who were bad people would essentially deport themselves out of fear. There is also the feminist newspaper that isn't really feminist anymore and the whole storyline with John Rainborough and his secretary, Miss Casement, and what happens in their corporation. Then, there's the subtitle, "A story of love and power," which can be interpreted in various ways.

So, this book is truly interesting and thought-provoking. I enjoyed reading it, and I recommend it if you like a detailed, layered story with abundant symbolism, various social issues being dissected from strange angles, weird action scenes, and characters you may or may not even like but may learn, as I did, to enjoy reading about and even to sympathize with.

4.5 stars

One of the interesting aspects of reading an author's work in sequence is the opportunity to observe how their style and voice evolve with each book, or which elements remain consistent. After delving into Iris Murdoch's first novel, Under the Net, The Flight from the Enchanter presents a rather distinct experience. Similar to the first novel, there are moments of wild hilarity, like the Artemis magazine shareholders meeting. There is also a mystery centered around an enigmatic character, and the class structure of the era plays a role. Additionally, at the conclusion of the novel, there is a sense that the central characters haven't advanced significantly, despite getting rid of house guests, studies, or jobs, yet it is implied that change will occur beyond the book's end.

What is notably lacking in the first novel, however, is a sense of menace and malice. This begins with Rosa and her disturbing relationship with the two Polish men, intensifies with the creepy John Rainborough, and culminates with the sadistic Calvin Blick, the henchman for the enigmatic yet equally menacing Mischa Fox. There were parts of the novel, especially those involving Anette, where I felt deeply uncomfortable with the treatment of the women. I was extremely relieved when Mrs. Wingfield and her cronies made an appearance, providing some momentary light relief. Iris Murdoch is highly skilled at altering the mood between chapters, alternating the more serious elements with the gentler or comedic ones.

The book commences in a fun and lighthearted manner as the young and beautiful Annette decides to leave school and learn from life. However, she stumbles from one disaster to another and finds herself embroiled, like Rosa, Nina, and Rainborough, in situations that seem nearly impossible to escape. All of them are 'fleeing' from something, not necessarily the 'Enchanter,' which I presume to be Mischa. How these four extricate themselves from such predicaments varies widely and concludes very differently, perhaps serving as a commentary on the greater options available to those with rank and wealth compared to those who are poor or immigrants - a relevant observation for our own times.

In addition to class, the book has a great deal to say about gender and power, ranging from Mischa and Rainborough's distasteful discussion about taming women to the women of the shareholders board overriding Mischa's wishes. The intrigues of the women in the SELIB board, who are working their way up through hard work and intelligence against the good old boy network, are both amusing and insightful, and once again relatable to our own era of unequal pay and workplace harassment.

It is a complex book, and I understand why Liz, who introduced me to Iris Murdoch, has reread the books numerous times. I'm certain there are many intelligent things that can be said about it, as the introduction to my Vintage edition demonstrates, but I will leave that to those more qualified. Ultimately, despite the occasional discomfort, I thoroughly enjoyed Murdoch's wonderful writing and her characterizations, and I am eagerly looking forward to continuing my literary journey next year with The Sandcastle.

A bunch of queens were having a diva-off for no reason. It was a rather strange and unexpected scene. These queens, each with their own unique charm and attitude, seemed to be competing with one another in a rather intense and flamboyant manner. They strutted around, showing off their glamorous outfits and exaggerated gestures. Their voices rose and fell as they engaged in a battle of wits and words. It was as if they were determined to outshine each other and prove who was the ultimate diva. But despite the competitiveness, there was also a sense of fun and playfulness in the air. Maybe they were just having a good time, indulging in their love for drama and showmanship. Or perhaps there was some deeper motivation driving their diva-off. Either way, it was a spectacle that was both entertaining and captivating.

This was a reread for me.

Although I had forgotten the plot, many of the vivid images and, in particular, the menacing nature of some of the characters had remained firmly in my mind.

This was her second novel, and for me, it contains some very interesting early explorations of ideas that she later handled with great dexterity.

Today, I was reflecting on how much I liked the part where one of the characters contemplates the unfairness of demonizing the Minotaur.

Yet, this book is all about monsters and monstrous behavior.

Unintended consequences can be truly devastating, especially when one is constantly immersed in a self-induced drama.

How does one avoid hurting others? The answer seems to lie in contemplating something outside of oneself, something beautiful and self-sustaining.

Dreams and fantasies color our perception of reality, making it either more menacing or more beautiful depending on the nature of the dream.

They can also be more terrifying or self-inflating depending on one's position in the hierarchy of power.

There is a subtle comment about how the war affected populations from the east in such different ways compared to the English characters.

Most of the English characters spend their time in various futile attempts to make sense of the world, while the non-English refugees are in full flight from an all-consuming horror.

The blatant selfishness and the impulse to survive contrast sharply with the muddled, self-deluded, and vaguely well-meaning behavior of the English, who flirt with danger and self-harm.

These are unfocused ramblings for a review, but they are better than writing nothing at all.

I am contemplating a reread of Murdoch's entire oeuvre in the coming year.

This book was published in 1956, and when I checked, it helped me understand why the women were wearing petticoats as a matter of course.

The experience was truly surreal, filled with a disturbing rapey sub-text that had me feeling altogether uncomfortable at various moments.

It was quite evident that the work was written from another era, a time that I am extremely glad not to be living in.

The very essence of that bygone era seemed to seep through the words, presenting a perspective that was both foreign and disconcerting.

The cultural and social norms that prevailed then, as reflected in the text, were far removed from what we consider acceptable today.

It served as a stark reminder of how much society has evolved and how fortunate we are to have moved beyond such archaic and uncomfortable ideas.

While it may offer some insights into the past, it also makes one appreciate the progress that has been made in terms of gender equality and respect for human dignity.

This is a brilliant book.

Even though it was written way back in 1956, it doesn't give the slightest impression of being outdated.

The character of Mischa, whom everyone holds in awe, seems only imposing to the other protagonists.

However, from my perspective, he appeared almost as normal as they were, aside from his considerable wealth.

His wealth might have set him apart in some ways, but in terms of his personality and behavior, he didn't seem overly extraordinary.

Perhaps it's because the author did such a great job of fleshing out all the characters that Mischa didn't come across as an unapproachable figure.

Overall, this book is a great read that manages to captivate the reader despite being written several decades ago.

Murdoch appears to possess an almost boundless talent for steering any concept, no matter how potentially promising, onto the wrong path.

This might be related to her penchant for drawing parallels with mythology and the classics.

The issue here is that one cannot pursue archetypes in such a tenacious way.

They inevitably evade the direct approach, and more often than not, the author is left in a rather helpless and frustrated state.

It seems that Murdoch's inclination towards these mythological and classical references sometimes leads her astray, causing her to misinterpret or misapply them in her work.

Perhaps a more nuanced and flexible approach would be beneficial in order to truly capture the essence of these archetypes and avoid the pitfalls that she seems to continuously encounter.

Only by doing so can she hope to bring her ideas to fruition in a more successful and meaningful way.