This is a story that encompasses the entire gamut of love.

There is first love, that innocent and exciting encounter that sets the heart aflutter. Married love, the commitment and companionship that comes with building a life together. Illicit love, the forbidden and secretive affair that often brings with it guilt and turmoil. Forbidden love, the kind that society deems unacceptable and yet, the heart still yearns. Selfless love, the kind that gives without expecting anything in return. Selfish love, the love that is all about one's own desires and needs. Unrequited love, the pain of loving someone who does not love you back. Undeclared love, the love that remains hidden and unspoken. Long-lost love, the joy of reuniting with someone from the past.

Everyone in this story dreams of being with the love of their life, but they are at a loss as to how to make it a reality. In the end, almost no one finds themselves with the person they thought they could not live without. They come to realize the harsh truth that passion, lust, cherished memories, and beautiful dreams do not always equate to true and lasting love. It may provide a temporary escape, but not true salvation.

The book concludes with new beginnings, which is a truly beautiful and fitting ending for this story. It gives hope that even after all the heartache and disappointment, there is always the possibility of finding love again and starting afresh.

I don't know where I got this book. I must have purchased it in a used bookstore or during a book sale binge. The idea was that I had never read any Murdoch before and now was the time to start.

I started reading it as part of my weird commuting book program, and I'm really glad I did. It was a great read. The Unofficial Rose is subtitled "The Complicated, Funny, Sad Romance of Many People Lost in a Garden," and that's exactly what it's about.

It concerns a family and close friends of Hugh Peronett and the love complications that every single one of them experiences. From the newly widowed Hugh to twelve-year-old Miranda, they all find themselves in various love situations over the course of a few months.

On the surface, the book seems slight and about nothing much. It's not much different from the sort of middle-brow romance novel written by a Maeve Binchy or a Rosamund Pilcher. This surprised me, given what I had heard about Murdoch. But the more I read and thought about it, the more it stuck with me and the more impressed I became.

The Unofficial Rose is both a mediation on the nature of love and a satire on how foolish being in love makes everyone. It's reminiscent of those Shakespearian comedies where everyone is running around in the woods falling in love, being star crossed, scheming, and falling in and out of love.

The reference to being lost in a garden, and the themes of being in the garden and Randall Peronett's rose-growing business, are not-unintentional. They throw back both to Shakespeare and to the nature of being English itself. And it's also a darkly funny book. Each character is a fool about love and suffers the consequences, ending up no better than they started.

What impressed me the most, though, is how Murdoch was able to write a true and accurate portrait of the feelings when falling in love. Not the sensible grown-up love, but the ridiculous emotionality of it all. She captures precisely how life becomes more emotional, fraught, and complicated during those times.

At first, I was maddened by many of the characters and their inability to make decisions and move forward. But then I realized that this is what falling in love is like. I remembered my own experiences in college, mooning over my then ex-boyfriend (now my darling husband).

Now that I'm a happy married lady, I look back on that time and think it was ridiculous. I want to go back and shake some sense into myself. But I commend Murdoch for recreating that exact sensation for her characters. The book has made me think in the way literature is supposed to, and I will definitely read more of her work.

On an unrelated note, when I opened my copy, I found Mrs. Karen Larsen's business card. It was addressed 1-86 & 87, Dongbingoo-dong Yongsan-ku, Seoul, Korea. It had English on one side and presumably Korean on the other. This is one of the better items on my "mysterious things you have found in books" list and brings me great joy.

Iris Murdoch has her own unique style.

The novel is wonderful and possesses everything that I like in her perception of things and imagination. It is not overly wordy or philosophical, but rather elegant and full of many surprises, most of which are unpleasant. In this case, it is a huge compliment, but only someone who has already read her works would understand that.

Murdoch's writing is like a delicate tapestry, woven with intricate details and hidden meanings. Her characters are complex and multi-dimensional, and her plots are often filled with unexpected twists and turns.

Reading her novels is like embarking on a journey of discovery, where you never know what lies around the next corner. It is a journey that is both exciting and challenging, but always rewarding.

Overall, Iris Murdoch is a master of the written word, and her works are a testament to her talent and creativity.

Getting to know a new author for me didn't go very well... A couple of times I wanted to give up and probably would have done so if it weren't for my habit of finishing what I started.

There is no plot as such. There is a sketch of the life of one family, consisting of endless conversations and clarifications of relationships. Well, and, perhaps, that's all. While reading, I was always hoping for some kind of "spark" that would somehow bring this book to life. But no, it was not meant to happen, the action did not move from the dead point. There is absolutely no intrigue, the narration is slow and unhurried. There are enough characters in the book. And not a single one was memorable, did not stand out from this gray mass.

There are no special impressions, no strong emotions either. I can only say, as naive as it may sound, I didn't like it!

Iris Murdoch is one of my all-time favorite novelists. Her works have always managed to captivate me, and I have thoroughly enjoyed every single book of hers that I have read so far.

In her novels, I have discovered an abundance of interesting details that have compelled me to go back and re-read them, either in their entirety or in parts. These details have stayed with me for weeks, making me constantly reflect on the story and its characters.

One of the novels that I hold in high regard is "An Unofficial Rose." Technically speaking, every chapter of this novel is brilliant, but I have a particular admiration for Chapter One. It takes place during the funeral of Hugh's wife, Fanny. As Hugh contemplates the mourners gathered around her grave, he comments to himself on almost every character who will play a significant role in the plot.

Every detail in this chapter is significant and serves as a small seed that will later blossom into a major story arc. One aspect that is of special interest is a Tintoretto painting that Fanny inherited from her father. Now that she is dead, this painting becomes a pivot around which a major portion of the plot will turn.

The provenance of the painting is carefully established. Fanny's father was a wealthy art dealer, but the Tintoretto was the only painting that Fanny was able to obtain from her "boorish" brother after their father's death. Hugh's scrutiny of his motives for marrying Fanny is handled with great skill. We are told that perhaps he married her for the Tintoretto, and this immediately makes us suspect that Hugh's life is about to take an abrupt turn.

In contrast to Murdoch's works, the groundwork in the novels of other writers is not always so carefully laid. Murdoch's stories are expertly plotted, allowing her to add great depth of insight from the very beginning. This is what makes her novels so fascinating.

The characters in her novels are flawed but utterly convincing. Murdoch has an extraordinary ability to expose the dark workings of their minds with precision.

I have not found the same clarity of motive in the works of some other novelists. For example, Zadie Smith and Rupert Thomson, whose novels I have recently been revisiting, seem to make up the story as they go along, relying on their intuition to bring the various strands of the story to a satisfying conclusion.

Murdoch, on the other hand, always knows where the story is leading. She uses her intuition to probe her characters' perceptions of themselves and others, doing so with empathy, vivid descriptive detail, and frequent touches of dark humor.

The ending of an Iris Murdoch novel may not always be satisfying, despite the intricate plotting. In "An Unofficial Rose," the "Unofficial Rose" is Hugh's daughter-in-law, Ann. She is married to an alcoholic husband who has abandoned the rose nursery he started in favor of dubious meetings in London, leaving Ann to keep the business afloat.

Ann is portrayed as a good but somewhat dull person. She is a Christian who believes in the sanctity of marriage and perhaps lacks the spark needed to have an affair or break free from her stultifying relationship. The moral choices that she faces, which are foreshadowed in the early chapters, gradually build up to a crisis that is fully explored in Chapter Twenty-eight.

Whether or not you find the ending uplifting may depend on your personal spiritual beliefs. The various strands of the story are resolved, but the characters do not necessarily find happiness. Some do, while others do not. What is satisfying, at least in an aesthetic sense, is that the novel ends as it began, with Hugh looking back on his marriage to Fanny and also looking forward to a new life that is very different from the one he had anticipated at the end of Chapter One.

The beauty of an Iris Murdoch novel is that it is not really the end but the beginning of a deeper understanding. As you go back and re-read certain chapters, you will uncover finer points and discover new pleasures, further enriching your appreciation of her work.

This is not the best Murdoch work I have ever come across.

There are a plethora of characters, perhaps too many, who contribute very little to a plot and story that could have been neatly wrapped up in just 50 pages.

There is an excessive amount of conjecture and anticipation regarding events that may or may not occur, and characters like Ann and Hugh strike me as uninteresting.

Thankfully, Hatfield and Penn, and rather bizarrely Randall, managed to salvage the story for me.

Love and relationships are prominent themes in this narrative, but there is far too much hemming and hawing, along with overly detailed analysis, which at times makes reading this Murdoch quite a painful experience.

It seems that the story could have been more concise and engaging if some of the unnecessary elements and excessive speculation had been trimmed down.

Overall, while there are some redeeming qualities, this particular Murdoch falls short of expectations.

This is Iris Murdoch's sixth novel. I have read all six in the order in which she published them, as part of My Big Fat Reading Project.

There is less humor in this one than in the earlier books. However, like all the others, it is about moral quandaries and affairs of the heart.

The difficulty of marriage is the theme. Each major character is either caught in an unsatisfactory marriage or wishes for a partner who can be truly loved. These yearnings take the form of actual infidelity or unrequited passion.

Though this may sound like any old romance novel, Ms Murdoch confounds those expectations by the depths of her characters and the lack of happy endings for anyone. Two of the women are the scheming type, with little compunction about controlling others to achieve their aims. Hugh, the widower and main character, is the victim of both women.

An unofficial rose is one that has been left wild rather than hybridized into the special cultivated sort loved by gardeners everywhere. Hugh's son Randall runs a commercial rose nursery on the grounds of his property. It is also his family's home, inhabited by his long-suffering wife Ann and his devoted but precocious daughter Miranda.

Randall has lost the drive to keep the rose business going, so Ann does most of the work. She knows her husband sees other women but adheres to her Christian belief that marriage is a lifelong commitment as well as a sacrament. However, she is in love with another man herself. Is Ann the unofficial rose?

These and other characters, from teens to parents to the older generation, all do silly things in pursuit of love and passion. It is a fairly sexy book. Describing them all would take too long. You'd be better off reading the novel, as I am no Iris Murdoch. In a live interview from 1962, she makes it clear that she had no intention to write "comfort fiction." I like that about her because she delves into the discomforts of love and passion, yet you feel less a fool for some of the things you have done for both.

In many ways, this is a truly remarkable book. It is both a cruel, Dantean one and a fiercely moral one.

Perhaps, when judged by her own standards, it may even seem somewhat judgemental.

The author seems to have delved deep into the human psyche, exploring the darkest recesses and the highest moral ground.

The cruelty depicted in the book is not gratuitous but serves a purpose, perhaps to shock the reader into a realization of the harsh realities of life.

At the same time, the moral lessons are presented in a powerful and uncompromising way, leaving the reader with much to思考.

Whether one agrees with the author's judgements or not, there is no denying the impact that this book has.

It forces us to confront our own beliefs and values and to question the world around us.

In a sense, it is a wake-up call, a reminder that we cannot afford to be complacent in the face of injustice and immorality.

Overall, this is a book that will stay with you long after you have turned the last page.

My advice would be to pay close attention in the first chapter.

This is because it is in this chapter that the majority of characters are introduced, and their family connections are explained.

By doing so, it will likely save you some heartache later on.

The story delves into the ins and outs of relationships and the people who strive to make them work.

There were times when I wanted to slat a particular character more than once, but overall, I think it's a good book and well worth a read.

It offers a captivating look into the complex web of human interactions and the challenges that come with maintaining relationships.

The author does a great job of creating engaging characters and a storyline that keeps you hooked from start to finish.

So, if you're looking for a book that will make you think and feel, this one is definitely worth considering.

It is a truly confusing story, one that perhaps has an overwhelming number of characters and storylines.

Murdoch, however, is an undeniably wonderful and beautiful writer. Her prose is captivating and her ability to create a vivid world is remarkable.

I find myself compelled to read it again, hoping that with a second pass, the storylines will become clearer and less confounding.

Maybe on this second reading, I will be able to untangle the web of characters and plotlines and gain a deeper understanding of the story.

Regardless of how confusing it may be, I am still drawn to Murdoch's writing and eager to explore this story further.

Iris Murdoch’s sixth novel, which was published in 1962, presents a complex and diverse cast of characters.

The central and uniting figure is Ann, who, along with her husband Randall, owns a large country house and a rose nursery. Randall, unfortunately, has grown tired of his marriage and desires to be with a younger woman named Lindsay. Despite Lindsay’s startling ignorance of culture, Randall is still drawn to her.

Randall’s father, Hugh, is elderly and suffers from tinnitus. He has inherited a beautiful Tintoretto painting of a nude Bathsheba from his wife Fannie, and this painting is the pride and joy of his collection. At the beginning of the novel, Fannie’s funeral takes place. Hugh catches a glimpse of an old flame, Emma, as she disappears into a car at the end of the funeral. He attempts to rekindle their former relationship, but Emma proves to be a conniving presence, much like one of the three witches in 'Macbeth'.

There are several women in the novel who engage in scheming and are successful in manipulating the men. Lindsay refuses to accept Randall unless he can obtain a large sum of money. Hugh can’t have his way with Lindsay’s employer, Emma, unless Lindsay elopes with Randall. The narcissistic and weak Randall proposes a solution to the dilemma that causes Hugh to experience a momentary pang of conscience.

In the manor house, there is a pair of young people: Miranda, Randall and Ann’s elfin daughter, and her naive cousin Penn, who is visiting from Australia. Miranda seems obsessed with her father and performs an enchanting ritual in memory of her deceased older brother. Despite her young age, Miranda is also a manipulator.

The men in the novel are led on a frustrating dance that gradually leads to a kind of resolution. Ann is the constant throughout. She keeps the nursery going, nurturing the variety of rose cultivars whose names and descriptions offer a horticultural feast. Ann is a faithful Penelope to Randall’s randy Ulysses, never doubting that her husband will return to her, despite having temptations of her own.

As in all of her novels, Murdoch creates a rich world of characters and descriptions of place, with an admixture of ethical puzzles and psychology. This is a book that is well worth reading.

Iris Murdoch's tales are not for the faint of heart or for those with a overly optimistic view of the world like Pollyanna.

She deploys her remarkable intellect to lay bare the frailties and shadows within human conduct. For me, reading Murdoch is similar to the line from Conrad's Heart of Darkness---" . . . . the fascination of the abomination."

The reader is lured into the darkness of humanity and becomes ensnared in its web.

She is one of my favorite authors, not because I take pleasure in reading about malevolent, manipulative individuals, but because she compels me to ponder behavior and motivation.

And, to admit that not everyone is good, even those who are closest to us.

An Unofficial Rose is a classic example of Murdoch's work as it presents master manipulators who strive to manage and govern the fates of other innocent or clueless characters.

Even though I had an inkling of what to anticipate in one of her novels, the characters still had the power to astonish and horrify me.

A continuous diet of Murdoch would disrupt my equilibrium, but I cherish her books for the reminder of how intricate human beings are and how arduous life can be.