Murdoch truly excels in the art of entwining the captivating tales of the heartthrobs within each character of her novel. Her masterful storytelling weaves a complex and engaging web of emotions and relationships. Each character's heartthrob story is delicately interwoven with the others, creating a rich and multi-layered narrative. The reader is drawn into the world of the novel, becoming deeply invested in the fates and desires of these characters. Murdoch's ability to handle these intertwined tales with such finesse is a testament to her skill as a writer. Through her vivid descriptions and nuanced characterizations, she brings these heartthrob stories to life, making them both relatable and unforgettable. The result is a novel that not only entertains but also touches the reader's heart and leaves a lasting impression.

A generic Iris Murdoch review would typically present a certain perspective.

It might describe the characters as discontented upper-middle-class individuals who are constantly stumbling after beautiful illusions. These illusions are presented in such a clear light that the characters seem far from being likeable.

This particular work is considered a typical Iris Murdoch piece, and it is executed well. The cruelty within the story is not overly obvious, and the underlying wires that hold the narrative together do not show too badly.

Given these aspects, it is perhaps sufficient to leave the review at this basic description. However, a more in-depth analysis could explore the themes, the writing style, and the overall impact of the work on the reader.

One might also consider comparing this particular work to others by Iris Murdoch to gain a better understanding of her body of work and her unique approach to storytelling.

Nonetheless, for a general overview, this initial assessment provides a starting point for further exploration and discussion of Iris Murdoch's writing.

This is an extremely intricate upper-class English family and friends drama that is specifically set in the sixties. It delves deep into the romantic relationships that exist among them all. There is a distinct Shakesperean feel to the story, where people are constantly attempting to manipulate one another, and everyone seems to be going around in circles, never quite reaching a resolution.

The characters in this drama act and say things that, to the modern ear, may seem very dated, frustrating, and even unlikeable. However, I think that some of this is perhaps intentional on the part of the author. It could be a way to show the differences in values and behaviors between that era and our own.

Overall, this drama reminds me of classic works such as Jane Austen's Emma or Mansfield Park, or perhaps even Vanity Fair. It has that same sense of exploring the complex relationships and social hierarchies within the upper classes. It makes one think about how much has changed in society over the years, and yet how some things, like the desire for love and the tendency to manipulate others, remain the same.

FANNY PERONETT was dead. That much her husband Hugh Peronett was certain of as he stood in the rain beside the grave which was shortly to receive his wife's mortal remains.

Hugh now found himself in a state of contemplation. With his wife gone, he couldn't help but think about returning to his former mistress. The idea swirled in his mind, a mix of longing and guilt.

Meanwhile, his son Randall had his own turmoil. He longed to break free from his shapeless marriage and find a perfect partner. The dissatisfaction in his marriage was eating away at him, making him yearn for something more.

Randall's young daughter, Miranda, was adored by her Australian cousin Penn. However, she also had attachments elsewhere. Her young heart was filled with confusion and the stirrings of different emotions.

Miranda's mother, Ann, had her own private dream. Yet, she took upon herself the strains and pains of all the others. She carried the weight of the family's issues, trying to hold everything together.

Impelled by affection, lust, and illusion, these characters found themselves searching for love within a tightly woven web. Their lives were intertwined, and their quests for love were both individual and interconnected. As they each grappled with their own desires and dilemmas, the story unfolded, filled with drama, emotion, and the complexity of human relationships.

This was just the beginning of a tale that would explore the depths of love, loss, and the search for meaning in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

Merdoch - A Genius

Merdoch is truly a remarkable individual, widely regarded as a genius.

His intellectual capabilities seem to know no bounds. He has an insatiable curiosity and a thirst for knowledge that drives him to explore and understand the most complex of concepts.

Whether it's in the fields of science, mathematics, or philosophy, Merdoch has made significant contributions. His ideas are often revolutionary, challenging the status quo and opening up new avenues of thought.

People are constantly amazed by his ability to think outside the box and come up with innovative solutions to problems. Merdoch's genius is not only evident in his academic achievements but also in his daily life. He has a unique perspective on the world and is able to see things that others miss.

His creativity and imagination are truly inspiring, and he serves as a role model for many. In conclusion, Merdoch is a genius whose influence will be felt for generations to come.

I never thought the day would come when I would give 5 stars to a book of the "romance" genre. However, this book, which claims to be "in the great tradition of the English romantic novel," was surprisingly well-written and complex.

I didn't necessarily enjoy every page of it. The characters, for the most part, were unlikeable. Selfish Hugh, narcissistic Randall, and sociopathic Miranda represent three generations of toxicity, perhaps worsening with each generation due to the neglect of the former. I had a secret liking for control-freak Emma Sands, but I knew I wasn't supposed to, and I was appalled by her more abusive excesses, such as towards Lindsay and intentionally towards Jocelyn. I was irritated by Felix and definitely by Douglas, and I felt a great deal of compassion for both Ann and Clara. However, I also felt impatient with their tendency, like all the female characters in the book, to center their lives so firmly on a man or men. In that sense, Miranda could perhaps be seen as having a reason to be so self-absorbed, as the women in the book failed to relate to each other. I was disappointed when the veil was pulled back on what seemed like a relationship between Emma and Lindsay, and they both turned out to be backstabbing each other.

It's a dystopian book about relationships, then, but it also problematizes hetero-patriarchy and the institution of marriage (and respectability).

Now I have to go and have a gin and blood orange with my son, but anyway, the book was complex and worth struggling with.

Iris Murdoch is an escapist’s nightmare.

Her works are not the kind that allows readers to simply flee from reality into a world of make-believe. Instead, they confront the harsh and complex nature of human existence head-on.

Murdoch delves deep into the moral, psychological, and emotional landscapes of her characters, exposing their flaws, desires, and the often-tumultuous relationships that define their lives.

Her writing is rich and nuanced, filled with philosophical insights and profound examinations of the human condition.

Rather than offering easy solutions or distractions, Murdoch challenges readers to grapple with the difficult questions and face the truth about themselves and the world around them.

For those seeking an escape from the real world, her works may seem daunting or even discomforting. But for those willing to engage with her ideas and explore the depths of her fictional universes, Murdoch offers a rewarding and intellectually stimulating experience.

She forces us to look beyond the surface and confront the messiness and beauty of life, making her an essential and influential figure in the world of literature.

This particular piece of writing is really not my cup of tea.

However, once I began reading it, I felt a sense of obligation to see it through to the end.

It turned out to be a rather tough and boring experience. The story revolves around a collection of individuals who are love confused and have very uninteresting lives.

Their actions and interactions lack depth and excitement, making it a real struggle to stay engaged.

Despite my initial determination to finish it, I found myself constantly looking forward to the end.

Perhaps for some readers, this kind of narrative might hold some appeal, but for me, it was just a tedious read that I'm glad to have completed.

I originally read this book as a girl and was completely enamored with it. However, 14 years have passed since then, and when I opened the cover about a week ago, I was shocked to realize that I had completely forgotten everything about it.

It seems that this book and I have drifted apart over the past decade and a half.

The story is set in a British family sometime in the 50s or 60s, after the atomic bomb. It delves into the complex web of emotions that the family members have towards one another.

Iris Murdoch is undoubtedly a great writer, and time has not diminished her talent. She is observant and has a dry sense of humor. She loves her characters, even when they do terrible things, making them relatable and sympathetic, even for a cynical reader like me.

On the other hand, the British in this novel are portrayed with repression, angst, and repressed angst. It reads like the dark side of Jane Austen, with all those rules and manners constricting the characters until they are unable to make a single decision and are ultimately unhappy. As a moderate Anglophile, I found myself unable to stomach the endless cycle of people doing and saying what was proper, only to be consumed by a sense of loss.

To be fair, Murdoch's tone is also full of reproach, not just for her characters but for the culture that produced them. She vividly描绘s a place and time dominated by groupthink to the point of suffocation. However, when read in a modern context, the main problems of the novel often seem contrived and overdone.

In part, this is due to the amount of time the narrative spends inside each character's head. A significant portion of the novel is devoted to characters thinking about doing things and weighing the consequences against their desires, rather than actually taking action. Nearly everyone in the book is neurotic to the point of paralysis, which can be frustrating for the reader.

The other issue is that without the reader's automatic acceptance of the attitudes towards things like love affairs after the death of a spouse, divorce, and love affairs after divorce, the constant rehashing of the central problems of the story can start to feel like a farce. By the end, I was shouting, "No one cares! Live your life!"

Despite its flaws, the novel does ask some thought-provoking questions about the nature of love, autonomy, and free will. The story's through line about characters making decisions only to discover that they have been manipulated by others is particularly interesting.

On this second reading, I can't say that I like this book. But I do grudgingly respect it for its honesty and its exploration of complex human emotions.

A fairly typical Murdoch, and in my opinion, that's a good thing. It charts the complex lives and reconfigured, unrequited relationships of family and friends. There's a Svengali-like figure, and it focuses on just a year or two. Most of the characters are rather lonely and broken, with a penchant for introspection. No one is truly happy for long, and few are overly likeable, yet all are intriguing.

One aspect that sets this apart from some of Murdoch's other novels is that all but one of the women are strong and take the initiative. One is the master puppeteer, while others have their own schemes. Meanwhile, most of the men just watch or react, somewhat haphazardly.

The cast is diverse. Hugh has just lost his wife. Years ago, he had an affair with his wife's childhood friend, Emma Sands, who now lives with her beautiful younger companion, Lindsay Rimmer. Hugh and Fanny's daughter, Sally/Sarah, is in Australia with her husband and four children, and another on the way. The eldest, Penn, comes to stay with his uncle Randall. Randall's wife, Ann, is rather wet and pious. They have a mysterious 13-year-old daughter, Miranda, and recently lost their son, Steve. They own a large house and run a successful rose-growing business, but their marriage is less so.

Mildred and Humphrey Finch are friends, mainly of Hugh's. They have a happy but chaste marriage, and Mildred yearns for Hugh. Her brother, Felix, is interested in Lindsay and Ann, and the vicar has a bit of a crush on Ann. There's a frisson between Penn and Miranda, and there are concerns that the gay Humphrey may have designs on Penn.

Clearly, nothing good can come of all this. As new relationships are tentatively formed, matters only become more convoluted. Penn is the obvious outsider, but in a way, each character is an outsider, even to themselves. Hugh just bumbles along, largely oblivious to everything unless it's spelled out for him.

You could almost consider Hugh's Tintoretto as a character, described as "a pearl whose watery whiteness both reflected and resisted the soft surrounding honey-coloured shades".

Like most Murdoch books, this one features someone (or more than one) pulling the strings in the lives of others, mainly for their own twisted personal enjoyment. Consequences don't seem to factor into their calculations. One man is drawn to the "moral otherness" of such a schemer.

At times, the manipulation borders on the magical. There's a sense of "fear, attraction, puzzlement and hostility, which had once together compose a sort of enchantment" and "she has drawn me here, witch-like". This theme is also seen in the way Miranda still plays with dolls. Her grandfather wonders how she "managed to combine her Peter Pannish demeanour with a knowingness which made Hugh sometimes conjecture that it was all a sort of masquerade". Even Randall still treasures his cuddly toys.

This gives the whole book a somewhat theatrical feel. Ann, for example, is "positively enjoying the atmosphere of relaxed drama which surrounded Emma. It was as if Emma made her exist more... she had an agreeable sense almost of being seduced."

There is sex in the story, but it's largely off-stage. What's more interesting are the relationships that endure yet are apparently chaste, for various reasons. Divorce was less common in 1962, and some of the characters are sincerely attempting to live Christian lives.

There are several quotes that stand out. For instance, "He could pass as a distinguished man, just as he could pass as a good husband... But the terror and the glory of life had passed him by." And "Unlike the living characters, 'Poor Fanny had no secrets. She had been a woman without mystery. There had been no dark in her.'" There's also "Miranda was as pale as her mother, but her face had the transparency of marble, where Ann's had the dullness of wax."

The book also touches on modern sensibilities. Apart from the differences in divorce rates and the prevalence of Christianity between 1962 and 2014, there are a couple of ideas that might strike a wrong note today. There's the tacit assumption that homosexuality and pederasty are the same, and a jocular rape threat issued to a woman who is being a bit of a tease.

All the characters are mourning something - people, opportunities, or experiences. Ann feels "perpetually haunted and mocked by a music of happiness which came from some inaccessible elsewhere." Hugh is mourning Fanny, and his grief "came to him with a kind of healing intensity. He burned himself with that pure pain. But he knew too that he had been touched by... some leper touch, which would work out its own relentless chemistry." He's also grappling with the guilt of not being a better husband and the wistfulness of lost opportunities.

In the aftermath of Fanny's death, Hugh goes to stay with Randall's family, who are still mourning Steve. However, it affects them all very differently. Hugh finds it oppressive, feeling that "The big indifferent house, upon which the unhappiness of him and his had made so little impression, and where the phantoms of his sadness were without a resting place."

The opening is curiously reminiscent of the famous lines from Dickens' A Christmas Carol, but it's not clear if there's further significance to it: "Fanny Peronett was dead. That much her husband Hugh Peronett was certain of as he stood in the rain beside the grave."

The suggestion is that the best chance of happiness lies in forgetting and reinventing. Overall, this is a complex and engaging novel that delves deep into the human psyche and the intricacies of relationships.

Immensely boring!

I truly love a difficult book that challenges my intellect and makes me think deeply. However, a boring book? It's a completely different story.

I was eagerly searching for meaning, for that essence that could penetrate the deep darkness of my thoughts. But alas, all I got were flat characters that failed to even evoke hatred. They were so uninteresting and lackluster.

Surprisingly, there was one thing that I did like, and it was the last paragraph of the book. But I have to say, it was a bit too late. By the time I reached that point, my patience had already been tested to the limit.

Overall, this book was a major disappointment. I had high hopes for it, but it failed to deliver in almost every aspect. Maybe I'll have better luck with my next read.

After nearly half a year of being immersed in and out of this unexpectedly enjoyable train wreck that is An Unofficial Rose, I'm finally done. What an absolute ride it was! I was anticipating the typical mindfuck, tactless affairs, with characters saying to each other (in an increasingly farcical manner) that they should consummate their romance (and lust), and having some sort of murder executed as a sudden way to hijack the already insane plot. Well, no, she has now surpassed all of this. From the start, I thought this would be a harem plot - and no, it wasn't to be a simple harem plot.

To the consternation of my already raised eyebrows, she includes a subtly cunning love triangle, an alarmingly slow-burning romance that lies somewhere between a cheesy romance trope and a possible pinnacle of classic Murdochian romance (I still can't decide), a simmering, vicious relationship that is as shamefully delicious as hearing gossip, and (wow) a depicted Oedipus complex. I can't even read another Iris Murdoch book now without putting it down and trying not to yell at these fictional characters who seem more real to me than my local grocers.

Each chapter is to be savored like a late-night TV episode. Especially this one, where your heart flutters with every word, only to be crushingly, viciously, deliciously beneath her pen:

"It was not that she had suddenly ceased to love Randall. But she was certainly able now, if she relaxed her grip for a moment, to fall in love with Felix. She felt a terrible weakness at the knees. Did love really come upon one like this? Yet this love had been long enough in preparation. Was this falling in love? It was certainly falling. Falling. Falling. She held on to the back of a chair.

As Felix inclined his head and began to move on in the direction of the door she realized with anguish that he was going to go without kissing her."

What would we do without Iris? I'm putting off the next Murdoch for another few months, maybe... I need a rest from the drama.