Virtues and flaws are two sides of the same coin when it comes to human nature. Kindness is a virtue that can bring out the best in people, while cruelty is a flaw that can have devastating consequences. It is a fact that humans are flawed by nature, and this is something that we must come to terms with.
However, just because we have flaws does not mean that we cannot strive to be better. We can work on cultivating our virtues and minimizing our flaws through self-reflection and self-improvement. By being kind to others and showing compassion, we can make a positive impact on the world around us.
At the same time, we must also be aware of the potential for cruelty within ourselves and others. We need to be vigilant in recognizing and addressing any signs of cruelty, whether it is in our own behavior or in the actions of those around us. By doing so, we can help to create a more just and peaceful world.
In conclusion, while humans may be flawed by nature, we also have the capacity for great virtue and kindness. By working to cultivate our virtues and address our flaws, we can strive to be better individuals and make a positive difference in the world.
Behind this drama centered around relationships and family in late-1960s London lies the forest from A Midsummer Night's Dream. We have two distinct couples. Rupert and Hilda, who have been married for a long time, are happy and prosperous, yet a bit complacent about the good life they've attained. Simon and Axel, in love and committed, carry the painful burden that comes with being gay men in that era and place. Additionally, there's Hilda's sister Morgan, a Tom and Daisy Buchanan-like figure, careening around, causing damage by crashing into others and taking no responsibility for it. Julius is the Puck-like trickster, but he seems more malevolent than Puck and far less capable of undoing the harm his mischief has wrought. While Puck has magic and a fairy king to assist him in resolving things at the end of the play, Julius thinks (or claims) he can reverse things whenever he pleases, but in reality, he can't. And perhaps, he doesn't truly want to.
The book also delves into the more philosophical question of the nature of goodness. Does it exist? What would it resemble? Is it possible to live as a good person? The main characters exploring this are Rupert, who has been penning what sounds like a rather fatuous book on precisely those questions, his and Hilda's son Peter, who yearns for goodness in a brainless, idealistic teenager's way, and Tallis, Morgan's abandoned husband, who lives in squalor and serves as a sort of moral touchstone for the other characters.
Warning: The way some characters discuss race in this book can be truly very nasty. The nastiness is not endorsed by the book itself, but it is indeed present.
A novel that delves deep into the essence of being human and the inherent flaws that come with it, while also serving as a profound study of relationships and their power dynamics, all set against the backdrop of the white, middle-class suburbia of the 1970s. Murdoch masterfully manipulates her characters, much like a Shakespearean puppet show, with Julius as the main puppeteer. He weaves his web seamlessly, driven by a captivating curiosity about what people will do when under pressure and when marred by vanity, greed, and self-doubt. His lack of conscience and remorse, along with his glib charm, are portrayed with great brilliance. The consequences of his actions have the victims second-guessing their own deeds and responses, while he seems to remain unfazed. However, Murdoch cleverly plants a breadcrumb here, making us eager to understand the motives behind his actions. I did feel that the novel leaned a bit too heavily on the first half, but once I reached the final third, it became a page-turner with a wonderfully open yet sinister ending.