Very few books manage to combine psychological insight, an understanding of both external social interactions and the internal mechanics of emotion, and metaphysics or existential philosophy.

This particular book, however, accomplishes this feat with great finesse. It is equally strong in all of the above arenas, presenting a comprehensive and engaging exploration of these complex topics.

Not only that, but it is also extremely well-written, with a prose that is both accessible and profound.

Shallow readers, who are not interested in delving deep into the human psyche and the nature of existence, will likely be bored by this book.

However, those who are patient and receptive to these things will find themselves captivated by its ideas and arguments.

This is truly a thinker's book, one that challenges its readers to think deeply about themselves and the world around them.

It is a must-read for anyone who is interested in psychology, philosophy, or the human condition.

I initially had a certain degree of liking for this. However, as I delved deeper, it just didn't quite hit the mark.

It seemed to read like a rather cheesy soap opera that was somehow inspired by the classic "Wuthering Heights", yet with the added element of airplanes thrown in for good measure.

To be honest, it just didn't do it for me. The story lacked the depth and authenticity that I was hoping for. It felt more like a cheap imitation rather than a unique and engaging piece of work.

Overall, I can't say that I'm a fan of this particular offering. It failed to capture my imagination and left me feeling rather disappointed.

I guess sometimes you win some and you lose some when it comes to reading different books or stories. This one, unfortunately, just didn't make the cut for me.

In some ways, this Gothic tale of captivity and philosophical musings is truly the perfect Quarantine Read.

It has the potential to transport readers to a different world, filled with mystery and intrigue. However, disappointingly, the plot seems to take a backseat to the existential philosophical debate, religious allegory, and melodrama that充斥 the story.

As a result, I was ultimately left feeling confused and unsatisfied. The story seems to lose its focus, and the characters become mere mouthpieces for the author's ideas.

Sadly lacking in any actual unicorns, the tale also fails to deliver on the奇幻 element that might have made it more engaging.

Overall, while there are some interesting aspects to this Gothic tale, it ultimately falls short of expectations.

I was completely enchanted by the novel’s oppressive mood. It was like being drawn into a dark and mysterious world that held me captive from the very beginning. The author’s vivid descriptions and masterful storytelling made me feel as if I was right there, experiencing the emotions and turmoil of the characters.

However, as I reached the closing chapters, my enjoyment began to wane. It felt like eating too much dessert on an already full stomach. The story seemed to drag on, and the resolution felt forced and anticlimactic. I had been so invested in the characters and their struggles, but in the end, it all felt a bit underwhelming.

Despite this, I still appreciate the novel for its ability to create such a powerful and immersive mood. It made me think and feel, and for that, I am grateful. But perhaps next time, I will approach a novel with a bit more caution, knowing that even the most enchanting stories can sometimes have a less-than-satisfying ending.

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If I were asked what a novel, a book, a story must have to become one of my favorites, I would tightly hold this book in my hands and close my eyes very firmly to evoke that cliff that Marian saw when approaching Gaze and feel how the real world and magic merge. I would take a breath to explain how important the number seven is when casting a spell and would try to convince you that everything has a place between heaven and earth: mysteries, superstitions, love, will-o'-the-wisps, a swamp, a princess and her castle, a cliff, lackeys, the lovers, the bad guy, a crime, or several, and the spectators. With all this, I dare say that I have in my hands one of the most beautiful stories I have been able to read despite its tragic ending and, as if it were a race against time, everything is resolved at dawn on the seventh year when the sun rises again not knowing what the light of day will throw into the world and the whistle of the train announces its departure to a new destination.

In an unceasing attempt to save Hannah from her past and her husband, all the inhabitants of the castle of Gaze try to take her as far away as possible to cheat fate. The relationships between the characters, the arrival of the governess Marian, the return of Effingham, the way the story of the golden unicorn makes and unmakes the tangle that weaves everything... a passionate plot between dawns and sunsets that makes you read it in a kind of countdown even knowing that all this is just the expiation of all those who seek to purify their souls. <>

In spite of a distaste for it, Iris Murdoch here is dabbling in psychoanalysis.

She does so perhaps not entirely happily in the context of a ‘gothic’ story that almost verges on grand guignol.

Unless she’s very discreetly poking fun, one never quite knows with her, which is part of the fascination of course.

A somewhat tedious young woman, bored with an even more tedious boyfriend who engages in bird-watching, wears bad tweed and displays pompous pseudo-academism, answers an advertisement for a governess on the west coast of Ireland.

She soon discovers that she’s let herself in for a great deal more than she bargained for.

Hannah Crean-Smith is, to all intents and purposes, the chatelaine of a ‘castle’, not a very grand one, in a distinctly forbidding landscape.

Facing another large house a little distance away, with nothing else except an equally forbidding and dangerous sea, she has no children.

So the ‘governess’ was a lure to attract yet another worshipper to herself.

However, as quickly becomes evident, the unicorn, the belle dame sans merci, the princesse lointoine, every medieval Book of Hours figurine, is a prisoner, perhaps a slave, not only to an absent husband who, rumour has it, she unsuccessfully pushed over a cliff, but also to his minions.

Principal among them is a local boy who has elevated himself to gentleman status and keeps as his own minion the young brother of a sinister housekeeper.

It’s a very bizarre set-up and, understandably, especially to the new arrival who rather loses her head.

Even more bizarrely, the owner of the other house is an elderly Platonic scholar with a hunting-and-fishing son, a sensible daughter in brogues and a regular guest, rather a confused one, who is supposed to be intended for the daughter but promptly ‘falls in love’ with the Unicorn, as has been the case for much longer with the distance-keeping son.

Gothic drama escalates wildly and indeed violently, ending in multiple deaths, with Freud taken to an extreme.

This is an enthralling read, but perhaps not Iris Murdoch at her best.

It’s not very easy to see what she’s getting at, if anything – perhaps just an experimental amusement in a genre?

I hadn't borrowed a book for ages!

A friend was reading Iris Murdoch in the school playground while we were waiting for the kids. When I mentioned that I had never read any of her books, she lent me this one. It's an old, dog-eared copy, and I couldn't find the edition on Goodreads. It seems she has read it several times as she noted the years on the flyleaf.

I remember reading books like this when I was a teenager. Many names come to mind, such as Marguerite Duras, Milan Kundera, Herman Hesse, Miguel de Unamuno, and Kafka. It's the kind of novel written by an intellectual, highly cerebral and inclined towards philosophy. The characters overthink emotions, dissect love, and experience sex as something cosmic or teluric. Is it like D.H. Lawrence or Thomas Hardy?

The oppressive atmosphere is very effectively created. Marian arrives at an isolated house to be a cultivated lady companion to Hannah, the lady of Gaze Castle. Hannah is imprisoned in this house, watched over by an entourage of eccentric characters who adore her. She has been imprisoned by her husband, Peter, who now lives in America and is like a Godot that everyone waits for but never arrives. Hannah has learned to accept this situation. As long as she is calm, her jailers are happy to carry on as they are. Marian has just arrived and hasn't fallen under the spell yet; she wants to set Hannah free. However, she finds it difficult to engage an accomplice as they all seem to foresee that if this delicate balance is upset, they will destroy one another.

Sometimes Murdoch makes her literary references a bit too obvious for my taste. But if you pick up this novel, you're probably bound to notice them easily anyway. Courtly love, the belle dame sans merci, Sleeping Beauty, that kind of thing.

As for the meaning of this allegory, what comes to my mind is the fear that cerebral people have of giving in to emotions, losing control, and forgetting themselves. Otherwise, it doesn't end like a Shakespearean comedy, as Marian was hoping, with all lovers united; it ends up like Hamlet, a house filled with corpses.

The story is intricately plotted, taking the reader on a wild ride that is both creepy and funny.

Just when you think you have it all figured out, it takes an emotional turn that you did not anticipate.

Iris is truly crazy for creating such a masterpiece.

There is nothing but respect for a writer who has such a unique signature move.

In expressing high level metaphysical meditations, she shoves the two nearest characters together and says 'now kiss'.

This unexpected and often hilarious tactic adds a layer of depth and complexity to the story that is truly remarkable.

It keeps the reader on their toes and engaged from beginning to end.

The result is a story that is not only entertaining but also thought-provoking and emotionally resonant.

Overall, it is a testament to the power of great writing and the ability of a talented author to create a world that is both captivating and unforgettable.

Excuse me, Ms. Murdoch, but your philosophy slip is showing :-) I found this slim novel truly delightful. Although I'm fairly certain I didn't fully grasp a great deal of the existential philosophy being tossed around, it didn't in the least detract from the storyline for me. I was aware that it was making my poor brain work a bit harder to seek clarity.

Murdoch has crafted a highly allegorical and mythological gothic tale, brimming with allusions to unicorns, vampires, mermaids, Maid Marian, Christ, a captive princess - and all in the name of delving into the true nature of good and evil, guilt and redemption, duty and honor, self-imprisonment versus being held captive, external and internal forces governing one's life, what it means to live, what it means to die, and so on. Don't misunderstand me, it's not a ponderous book. The story is animated, the characters are strange and captivating, and the plot is rather odd.

And Murdoch's writing, well, I simply love it. Here's an illustration: “Tears gathered in his eyes and he blinked to release them. They were large still tears such as men weep in solitude over beautiful things. To weep like that over a human being was a most desolate homage.”

Quiet and gentle yet menacing all the same. Well done, Murdoch.

The opening of The Unicorn is strikingly similar to that of a classic gothic novel. A young woman journeys through a desolate and wild landscape towards a dark, rundown house or castle filled with strange characters. It evokes memories of works like Jane Eyre, Northanger Abbey, and Rebecca. To enhance this gothic ambiance, the novel is replete with allusions to fairytales such as Sleeping Beauty, as well as to both pagan and Christian spirituality, but with a greater emphasis on spells and magic. The concept of an Enchanter resurfaces in Iris Murdoch's fiction, and this novel is perhaps most reminiscent of Flight of the Enchanter.

The two main narrators, Marian, the young governess, and Effingham Cooper, are both outsiders embroiled in the household drama. As the novel progresses and Marian grows closer to Hannah, the lady of the house, she experiences an emotional turmoil and often appears quite innocent, even being described as the 'opposing angel' to Gerald. She is captivated by Hannah and desires to'smash up all the eerie magical surroundings'. Effingham, on the other hand, provides some rare humor in the novel. Although he goes along with Marian's plans, he undergoes a significant transformation from an obsessive lover to one who never wants to return.
Hannah Crean-Smith lies at the heart of the story, yet she seems to have the least agency. Everyone projects their own ideas onto her, as if she is an empty vessel. Effingham even remarks that Max was right, and they had all used her as an image of God, loading their own evil onto her. Is Hannah the 'brave beleaguered lady in a legend', or does she choose her suffering? Is she under a spell, resigned to her fate, or is she an enchantress playing a role?
The relationship between Max and Hannah is intriguing. Although Max doesn't appear frequently, he seems to be aligned with her in many ways. Effingham describes him as a prisoner 'of books, age and ill health' and says that he finds consolation in Hannah's imprisonment as a distorted mirror image of his own. Max is compared to an oriental sage, an ancient philosopher, and he views Hannah's beauty as a spiritual thing, referencing the unicorn (Hannah) as the image of Christ. However, he also admits that he may be suffering from his own form of romanticism and that the truth about Hannah could be quite different.
Other minor characters add to the complexity of the story. Pip is a lackluster prince, Violet is a spectral and slightly deranged figure, and Jamesie is an oppressed servant who becomes more powerful as the novel progresses. Denis, initially a darkly besotted servant, later emerges as a mystical protector. It is Effingham who initially places Hannah on a pedestal, creating a romanticized image of her as a princess in her castle. However, he also fears the violence that lies behind the legend of the sleeping beauty.
In the end, Alice breaks Effingham from the spell, representing the real world and pulling him back from the thrall of the dark powers. The novel intertwines the liberality of the sixties with the uptight atmosphere of a Victorian gothic, creating a sense of emotional instability that often turns to hysteria. There is also a growing sense of menace as revelations are made and the'spell' becomes stronger. The question of who is the enchanter in the book remains unanswered, adding to the mystery and intrigue.
Overall, while I appreciated the descriptions of the scenery, the characters felt a little like fairytale caricatures, and the overblown drama and hysteria didn't quite work for me. However, as with all of Murdoch's books, there is much to dissect and think about. I look forward to reading The Italian Girl and hoping to be enchanted once again.

I have been curious about Murdoch for years.

Recently, I found a free copy of this book. It is not one of her better-known works, but that didn't prevent the fanatical critics of the time from worshiping at its altar.

The first half of the book was very intriguing, but it was ultimately destroyed by the endless psychological insights into its not-very-interesting characters.

If it weren't so annoying, it would be silly. And yet, I love psychological fiction.

I should probably give something else by her a try, but I'm not in a rush at the moment.

Perhaps I'll wait until I'm in the right frame of mind to fully appreciate her work.

Until then, I'll continue to explore other authors and genres.

Who knows what other literary treasures I might discover?