Internally, this is a well-plotted and absorbing novel. It delves into a rich tapestry of philosophical, psychological, and to some extent, theological ideas. Despite its depth, it also manages to be light and entertaining.

The characters are her typical blend of partially believable and partially fantastic types, belonging to a vaguely arty and upper-middle-class variety. Their feel is more reminiscent of the 1950s than the late 1970s, which is the setting of this story. I don't think this is a deliberate choice but rather a reflection of where her mindset is rooted.

I sense that Murdoch is attracted to the modern and the earthy, yet in a contradictory way, she may be more comfortable in the ancient academic ivory towers. Regardless of the contradictions, as someone who generally enjoys her writing and has read many of her novels, I found this one to be among the most enjoyable. Although all of her works are of a high standard. Therefore, it is recommended to Murdoch fans, but her writing is an acquired taste.

Out of kindness, a woman character offers a job to a feckless young man in her family circle. The job is to look after her holiday home in France. Later, due to certain circumstances, she decides to go there herself and ends up at the same place.

Just like this, any reader might suspect that she has an ulterior motive. Maybe that's the case, but she is not aware of it herself. The author is suggesting that there is an unconscious force at work through the character's consciousness. Of course, she has other rationalizations for her behavior to achieve her ends.

You might also think the same about the young man who initially went to her hoping for financial aid. He too is unknowingly driven by something. What follows is one of the most passionate depictions of sexual love that I've ever read. It's as good as any soft porn, I suppose, in the context of art.

The not quite accurate quote is from Julian of Norwich, perhaps via TS Eliot.

A note from what I presumed to be the feckless young man's girlfriend, who he thought was malicious, reveals the affair that the two lovers had agreed to keep secret. You might think it's a mistake, a sign of being too concerned about what others think. But that's rather the point of the existence of the family circle, isn't it? When the woman's love is discovered, it is found lacking. And the feckless young man does the honorable thing by leaving her and going back to his old girlfriend. Well, what else is a man supposed to do? Any port in a storm.

I should've known the quote was from The Twa Corbies makin a mane.

Tim, the feckless young man, wouldn't have expected Daisy, his long-term girlfriend, to be so vindictive as to threaten his love. I think she could be. What do you think? She's a woman! She's got him back. Then something totally unexpected happens.

Another character, an ex-nun, believes that Tim's fall would grieve no one. Poor Tim, it grieved me. 'He lay down on the floor... and howled.' Poor Tim! She says he's a sort of moral imbecile, but I like him. Her friend, the woman lover, bitterly resents him for his so-called unspeakable treachery, which I don't think was that bad. And for her own offensiveness to the shade of a male character, a shade! I don't think so. How can you be offensive to a shade! Yet another character, the Count, agrees with me. 'Poor Tim,' he says.

The Count accuses Daisy of vindictiveness. She denies it, and the author intervenes in parentheses to say that it was actually another very minor character whose drunken disclosure had been a random act of societal spite.

Words like 'integrity' and 'honour', which are new to him, occur to Tim. He wonders if they got into his head from the Count's. Could words do that? he asks himself. Not really. If one is telepathizing with a foreigner who doesn't speak English, he will understand you and you him, even if you don't speak Turkish, for example. This is because telepathy is unconscious communication that is too fast for language, although language has something to do with it. If you think to him that he's looking ill, he might receive it as he's bad looking and take offense and seek revenge by telling someone else that he had sex with you. Tch! Men! They can turn nasty in an instant. But don't worry. You know you can handle anything that the conscious mind, however clever, can come up with. They're so slow. There is no realization by Tim of any occasion of unconscious communication with the Count, and none by the Count either. That pretty much means there wasn't any, or the author would surely indicate it through some oddness of the situation between them. She doesn't quite understand telepathy or the unconscious, which is why she invokes Eros.

'Oh great!' I wrote in the margin when Tim receives a letter that prompts him to take action. 'Tim really knew that in coming to France, he had decided to see Gertrude.' (That's her name. Murdoch has a thing about Hamlet, though it would be a stretch to think Tim is like Hamlet.) 'It was just that the decision was so awful that it had to be taken in two halves, one conscious and one unconscious.' I like that, although the author puts the conscious half first. 'But now he was here, he knew he had to...' just like me going to Bonser Rd. Once there, I rationalize that I might as well knock on Rich's door and face whatever comes. 'Oh no!' I wrote in the margin beside 'He decided to turn to the right and go to the canal. 'Oh no!' as 'Tim slipped head first into the stream.' 'No!' at 'He was fully conscious he was about to die.' Finally, Murdoch has done it for me. I was so moved that my head prickled. You can't ask for more than that.

'Eheu fugaces....' – Alas fleeting.... – is a quote from Horace, as are the others.

Twice, Hannibal's failure to march on Rome is mentioned. He may not have had enough men for a siege, but he should have taken the risk after his huge victory at Cannae. In all probability, he would have taken a demoralized city.

The introducer believes that the denial of self by people like nuns and soldiers leads to a transcendence that gives a sense of eternity and infinity in our mortal life. I have to disagree with that. You get that sense when your unconscious is thinking infinitely fast in communication with another, if it can do that, that is.

I don't like the way that Iris Murdoch writes.

I've made numerous attempts to discover something within her works that I could appreciate, yet she simply doesn't resonate with me.

Her writing style seems to be too complex and convoluted for my taste.

The characters she creates often lack the depth and authenticity that I look for in a good story.

Despite her reputation and the acclaim she has received, I find myself unable to connect with her writing on a personal level.

Perhaps it's because our literary preferences are so different.

Nevertheless, I respect her as a writer and understand that others may find great value and enjoyment in her works.

But for me, her writing remains an enigma that I have yet to解开.

Each time I read Murdoch, ideas always burst into my mind: how intelligent one must be to be so entertaining. Her mastery in stretching the seams of plausibility to limits that, if we weren't under the spell of her genius, we would consider impossible. Her talent for making fate and chance take on an almost divine presence in the development of her characters. The theatrical nature of her narration in which we could understand the chapters as scenes.

This novel starts with a dying aristocrat who asks his faithful wife to be happy when he is gone while his bourgeois social circle debates how to support her in those difficult times. With that premise, Murdoch extends a plot full of surprises, ingenuity, and a touch of sweet malice; all with a remarkable rhythm.

Nuns and Soldiers is a story about love, grief, guilt, or the endless search for happiness, almost always relying on characters (all wonderful in their own way) who come and go, strengthening the theatrical essence I mentioned at the beginning of the review. Although the narration delegates almost its entirety to the dialogues and the thoughts of the characters, the brief spaces in which Murdoch allows herself to leave her mark without hiding it in the others are a treasure.

The length of the novel allows Murdoch not only to deepen the psychology of each of her many characters but also the relationships that intertwine and unwind over the course of six hundred pages. And no, not a single one is superfluous.

During the course of the novel, a quote from Blaise Pascal is used, which says that "the heart has reasons that reason does not understand." I believe that the great virtue of Murdoch lies in the deep understanding of that wonderful phrase.

My new favorite novelist has truly captured my heart and imagination.

Their writing style is a unique blend of vivid descriptions and engaging storytelling. With each page I turn, I find myself completely immersed in the fictional world they have created.

The characters are so well-developed that I feel as if I know them personally. Their emotions and struggles are palpable, making me empathize with them on a deep level.

The plots are always full of twists and turns, keeping me on the edge of my seat and eager to discover what will happen next.

I can't wait to explore more of their works and see where their creative minds will take me.

This novelist has definitely become a staple in my literary collection, and I highly recommend their books to anyone looking for a captivating read.

Early on in Nuns and Soldiers, one character reminds another that it is their duty to resist despair. I was actually quite taken aback by that. Among all the reasons to resist despair, somehow duty had never occurred to me. And I must say: it sounded good. There is something extremely appealing about that kind of simple moral authority. However, unfortunately for our ability to gain consolation, but perhaps fortunately for the quality of the novel, things don't stay so simple. As the story progresses, we see that the concept of duty is not as straightforward as it initially seems. There are complications, conflicts, and moral dilemmas that arise, challenging the characters' sense of duty and their ability to resist despair. The novel delves deeper into the human psyche, exploring the various factors that influence our decisions and actions. It shows that sometimes, what we think is our duty may not be what is truly right or what will bring us the most peace. In this way, Nuns and Soldiers offers a more complex and nuanced view of life and morality.

Reflejo de una época de UK

The United Kingdom has a rich and diverse history that is reflected in many aspects of its society. One such aspect is its architecture, which ranges from ancient castles and cathedrals to modern skyscrapers. Another is its literature, which includes works by some of the greatest writers in the English language, such as Shakespeare, Dickens, and Austen. The UK is also known for its music, from traditional folk songs to contemporary pop and rock. In addition, its food and drink, such as fish and chips, tea, and beer, are beloved around the world. All of these elements combine to create a unique and vibrant culture that is a reflection of the UK's past and present.

Iris is an author whom I truly wish were still alive and actively engaged in writing.

She was a fantastic author with a remarkable talent for creating captivating stories and vivid characters.

Her books had the power to transport readers to different worlds and make them feel a whole range of emotions.

Each of her works was a masterpiece, filled with unique plots, beautiful prose, and deep insights into the human condition.

Iris's writing style was both engaging and accessible, making her books suitable for readers of all ages and backgrounds.

It is truly a pity that she is no longer with us, as I believe she had so much more to offer the literary world.

Nevertheless, her books will continue to be cherished and read for generations to come, serving as a testament to her incredible talent and creativity.

2.5* rounded up, mainly because all the dialogue Murdoch wrote is brilliant. Her words have a certain charm and wit that can draw the reader in. However, this is not her strongest work. There are some aspects that could have been improved upon. The plot, for example, may not be as engaging or complex as in some of her other novels. The characters, while well-developed, might lack that extra depth that would make them truly memorable. Additionally, the pacing of the story could have been better, with some parts feeling a bit slow or dragging. Overall, while the dialogue is a definite highlight, the work as a whole falls short of being her best.

4.5 stars

After a series of novels with male narrators or central characters, most of which are either mildly annoying or completely unlikable, it was a refreshing change to read an Iris Murdoch novel where two of the central characters are female and aren't objectionable. In fact, there are few truly dislikable characters in the novel, and one wonders if, after "The Sea, The Sea" and Charles Arrowby, Murdoch wanted to give us a break from the obnoxious.

Nuns and Soldiers revolves around Gertrude, who loses her husband Guy in the first chapter of the book. There's also The Count or Peter, the son of Polish immigrants and another of Iris Murdoch's slim, tall, pale-eyed and colorless-haired men. Tim is a poverty-stricken painter, and Anne is an ex-nun. As the novel progresses, we get to know their thoughts and experiences throughout the year after Guy's death. There's a group of other satellite characters who come and go and help drive the action, the aunts and cousins as Guy called them, some of whom are family and some just good friends, but the bulk of the novel focuses on these four characters.

Too much detail would spoil the book, but it's safe to say that love, both requited and unrequited, plays a big part in the story, as does a lot of soul-searching about the past, friendship, spirituality, art, and how others see us. Much of the novel takes place in a cottage in the South of France, and the descriptions of the scenery and nature are beautiful, as they are in a short chapter in Cumbria. The rest of the novel is set in various flats, studios, and pubs in London, with the British Museum making one of its frequent appearances. I always appreciate Murdoch's descriptions of the flats and the fashion of the time, and I felt entirely nostalgic when reading about The Count listening to "The Archers" and "Women's Hour" on BBC Radio Four, both of which, nearly forty years later, are still on the air.

With the women playing a much larger role, we not only get their perspective but also get to see a female friendship between Anne and Gertrude, something I don't think has really appeared in one of Murdoch's previous novels. Gertrude and Anne seem so different in many ways, with Anne suppressing her feelings while Gertrude overflows with emotion and can be irritating in her desire to love and be loved by everyone, yet both are ultimately looking for a refuge. Daisy is another female character who makes a strong impression, and I appreciated the portraits of her and Tim's family and background, while their arguments, although frustrating, are often amusing. Daisy seems very much her own woman and hides any fragility or hurt behind this prickly shell that includes some wonderful outfits and makeup techniques.

The passion of Daisy and other characters in the novel contrasts with the repressed feelings of others such as The Count, who feels so much guilt about his Polish background and dreams of Warsaw during wartime. The Count is the soldier of the title and has the bearing and sense of honor of a military man, yet there the comparison ends, and his emotions are as fragile as any of the others who more openly reveal them. In this respect, he and Anne are similar, and in her role as an ex-nun, she is the confessor and support to the others around her while at the same time spending her time thinking about her spiritual life or lack thereof. Tim and Gertrude are far more childlike than these two, with their emotions on the surface, but both are appealing even in their upsets and mistakes, and the beginning of the book where Gertrude is losing Guy is heart-breaking as she vocalizes what I think many of us would feel on the loss of a partner.

It is because of Tim and Gertrude that, despite the death at the beginning of the novel and the spiritual content, this feels like a lighter novel than some of Murdoch's others. There are some wonderful group scenes where the dialogue flies and the gossip flows, and there is humor in how relationships form and come together. There is angst and depression and tortured souls, but by the end of the novel, most characters have resolved something in their lives, and the ending feels satisfying after all that has come before. Nuns and Soldiers is a long book, but I was always engaged, and so it was another successful read for me in this Iris Murdoch journey.

Some Favorite Lines

‘Earlier Tim would have married Daisy had it not been for her surprisingly ferocious hostility to the institution of marriage, which she compared with “homes and gardens and hoovering the wall-to-wall carpet and generally becoming dead.” She had a special resentment against idle women who married so as not to work, and lived lives of bourgeois selfishness. The ‘haves’ with their bloody husbands and their kiddies and their houses full of furniture!’

‘His eyes were azure, not a pale snake-blue like the Count’s but the full glowing blue of a summer sky. He could perhaps have been diagnosed as Irish by a compatriot because of a certain quirkiness about his mouth and a quick nervous vagueness about the eyes. (There is a fierce hard Irish face, and a soft gentle one, and Tim had the latter.)’

‘It was a sunny morning. London was hot and dusty, full of tired smells, perhaps the smells of Londoner’s dreams of the countryside.’

‘She recalled Guy’s saying once, we have individual virtues but general vices. No one is good all through, in all relations, for all purposes. As virtuous agents we specialize, we have to, because vice is natural and virtue is not.’

‘The Count felt a little chagrin. He did not feel, as his compatriots were sometimes said to feel, that really ‘everyone is more or less of Polish origin’. But he did feel that every intelligent person must be interested in Poland’

‘At least she knew that she must now seek solitude, innocence and the silence of being totally uninteresting.’

However, he truly believed that every intelligent individual was bound to have an interest in Poland.

We all find ourselves in a complex position. We are both the judges and the judged. We can be the victims of the casual malice and wild fantasies of others, and in turn, we are also potential sources of fantasy and malice. If at times we are unjustly accused of sins that we have not committed, then is it not also possible that there are other sins of which we are indeed guilty, but the world remains completely unaware?

This thought-provoking perspective forces us to reflect on our own actions and the role we play in the larger scheme of things. It makes us question the fairness of judgments and the hidden aspects of our own moral compasses.

Mñe.

It seems rather dramatic.

This simple statement holds a certain air of mystery and perhaps a touch of exaggeration.

The use of "mñe" is an interesting choice, as it might be an abbreviation or a unique expression specific to a certain context or individual.

The word "demasiado," which means "too much" or "excessive" in Spanish, further emphasizes the sense of drama.

It makes one wonder what exactly is being described as overly dramatic.

Is it a situation, a person's behavior, or perhaps a story?

Without further context, it's difficult to determine the exact meaning.

However, the combination of these words creates a vivid image in the reader's mind and piques their curiosity.

It leaves us eager to know more and understand the full story behind this seemingly dramatic statement.

Maybe there's a juicy tale of passion, conflict, or excitement waiting to be uncovered.

Only time will tell.