This is one of those remarkable books that you simply yearn to savor and read at a leisurely pace. It has this unique quality of leaving you with a plethora of questions about yourself rather than just those related to the characters. It makes you reflect on how we often discard our own happiness in a frantic search for an understanding of where we might have gone astray. We are willing to try anything, in a state of desperation, just to experience that elusive feeling of being happy and whole. I truly adored this book. At times, it was a bit of a challenge to maintain my full attention, but that was precisely because each and every thought it provoked within me sent me on a profound journey of self-forgiveness.

\\"Ah, That was it. The truth at last. Everything would have been love.\\" This simple yet profound statement seems to encapsulate the essence of the entire story and the emotions it elicits. It makes you realize that perhaps love is the key to everything, and that we often overlook its significance in our pursuit of other things.

Although there were times when this book seemed to drag a bit or was in need of an editor, overall, I was incredibly impressed with the craftsmanship, originality, and depth.

The way the story was constructed and the characters were developed was truly remarkable. I have a particular love for books that feature an unsympathetic or unreliable narrator, and this book definitely delivered on that front.

I've never read Murdoch before, but after this experience, I will definitely be reading more of her work. Even though I suspect this may be one of her lesser works, it still showcases her incredible talent.

Her ability to create complex and engaging characters, and to weave a story that keeps the reader hooked from beginning to end, is truly awe-inspiring. I can't wait to see what else she has to offer.

The original article is not provided, so I can't rewrite and expand it specifically. However, I can give you a general example to show you how to do it.

**Original Article**: I like reading books. It makes me happy.

**Expanded Article**:

I have a great passion for reading books. It is not just a hobby for me, but a source of pure joy and happiness.每当我拿起一本书，就仿佛进入了一个全新的世界，那里充满了无尽的想象和可能。

Books have the power to transport me to different places, times, and perspectives. They allow me to learn about new cultures, ideas, and experiences.通过阅读，我不仅能够拓宽自己的视野，还能够丰富自己的内心世界。

Whether it's a thrilling mystery, a heartwarming romance, or a thought-provoking non-fiction, each book has its own unique charm and value.阅读让我感受到了文字的魅力，也让我明白了知识的力量。

You can follow this example to rewrite and expand your own article. If you provide the original article, I will be able to give you a more accurate and detailed rewrite.

Hm... I really could not figure out for what reason anyone would enjoy this piece of literature. It seems like a complete waste of time and resources.

The only idea that this book presents is how to waste one's own life and the lives of others in the most meaningless way possible. The characters are completely unsympathetic, making it difficult for the reader to connect with them or care about their fates.

The behavior and story are highly unrealistic, lacking any semblance of authenticity or believability. Additionally, the book feels totally overextended, as if the author was trying to stretch a thin premise into a full-length novel.

Overall, this is definitely not the kind of book that I would recommend or enjoy reading. It's not my type of book, and the author's style and ideas simply don't resonate with me.

Wow. I truly don't know what to think.

"These are the nuttiest fuckin people I've ever dealt with" keeps popping up at the top of my mind. It's just难以置信.

And I'm completely befuddled by Hillary. I mean, really. How could these bitches just FLOCKED to him? It's beyond comprehension. And it's not even just women. He was unbearable. Clearly sporting some BDE (Big Dick Energy) that I was not feeling at all.

Sigh. I didn't hate it, but most of my motivation for finishing it was just an investment to see how it all worked out and who this MF (Mother Fucker) would abuse next. It's like a train wreck that I couldn't look away from. I just had to know what would happen next.

As some of the critics assert, Iris Murdoch possesses an extremely potent writing style.

She fearlessly makes certain affirmations regarding specific aspects of life. I truly, deeply relished the descriptions within this book.

Particularly, the portrayal of people is astonishingly accurate. The guilt, envy, and internal turmoil of a man haunted by a joyless past are not emotions that are facile to describe.

Yet, Murdoch accomplished it with elegance and remarkable courage.

Hilary Burde is the ideal subject for a psychiatrist. His life is steered by simplistic feelings that terrify.

His existence is monotony in its purest essence. He has fallen into a rut from which he cannot and will not escape.

His sister becomes a victim of his own pitiful thoughts. Although he professes to desire her happiness, he somehow obstructs it.

Throughout the book, he manages to recognize who he is, but fails to change. Nevertheless, he attains a certain kind of peace.

A peace that stems from the realization that he has squandered time and effort on nothing.

This is a book that I highly recommend, exquisitely written!

My first encounter with an Iris Murdock book has truly made me a definite fan.

Hilary, the character in the story, is despicable in numerous ways. However, Iris Murdock has this remarkable ability to make you step into his world. You start to feel a tinge of sympathy for him, and even more importantly, you come to understand him.

This book is one of those rare gems that constantly萦绕 in your mind even when you're not actively reading it. You can't wait for it to conclude, yet at the same time, you're eager to witness the end.

Iris Murdock is indeed a master writer. Her insights into the human psyche are simply amazing. She has the power to bring characters to life and make the readers engage with them on a deep level.

It's no wonder that her works are so highly regarded and have stood the test of time. I'm looking forward to exploring more of her books and delving deeper into the fascinating worlds she creates.

What on earth is this?

Why is this crazy and self-obsessed guy depicted as a hero? It just seems so utterly wrong to me.

Every single character in this book gives off a wrong vibe.

I wouldn't trust Iris Murdoch to be left alone in a room with my child.

I read this book, every single page, and I deeply regret spending my time on something so dehumanizing.

We shouldn't allow our world to be marred by labelling such things as 'literature'.

Although I'm not completely in favour of book burnings, for 'A World Child', if every copy were to be destroyed, I would feel a bit more at ease in this world.

This is simply not the way we should live.

We need to be more discerning about the kind of literature we consume and promote.

Books should inspire, uplift, and teach us valuable lessons, not make us feel disgusted and disappointed.

It's high time we reevaluated the works that are considered 'literary masterpieces' and made sure they align with our values and ideals.

Not nearly as good as A Severed Head.

This statement implies that the subject being compared falls short in comparison to the work titled A Severed Head. It suggests that the qualities, merits, or overall excellence of the other work pale in comparison.

Perhaps A Severed Head is renowned for its unique narrative, complex characters, or profound themes. It might have captivated readers with its engaging plot twists and thought-provoking ideas.

In contrast, the work in question fails to reach the same level of achievement. It may lack the depth, creativity, or craftsmanship that makes A Severed Head stand out.

However, it's important to note that this is just one person's opinion. Others may have a different perspective and find value in the work that is being compared.

Nevertheless, the comparison serves as a reminder of the high standards set by A Severed Head and the challenge that other works face in trying to match its excellence.

My favourite author is Iris Murdoch, and one of my all-time favourite books is by her.

It was winter in London, a season that holds a certain charm. When I think of it, I can't help but compare it with the London depicted in "Under the Net" during the summer.

Peter Pan is another story that comes to my mind. I remember taking the tube to Sloane Square.

I may be wrong, but I have this strange thought that the boy at the centre of the Peter Pan story actually killed himself at Sloane Square Underground station. It's a rather dark and curious idea that has lodged itself in my mind.

Perhaps it's the contrast between the magical world of Peter Pan and the harsh reality of a London underground station that leads me to this speculation.

Nevertheless, it adds an interesting layer to my perception of both the story and the city.

As I continue to explore the works of Iris Murdoch and think about these different elements, I find myself drawn deeper into the complex web of her literary universe.

A real ripper.

This simple phrase holds a certain allure and mystery. It implies something or someone that is truly remarkable, perhaps even awe-inspiring.

When we hear the term "ripper," it often brings to mind images of power, speed, and intensity. It could describe a powerful sports car that zooms down the road with lightning-fast acceleration, leaving everyone in its wake.

Or perhaps it refers to a talented athlete who tears through the competition, displaying extraordinary skill and determination. This ripper athlete might break records, shatter expectations, and become a legend in their field.

In a more figurative sense, a real ripper could also describe a person with a captivating personality or a unique talent. They have the ability to charm and engage those around them, leaving a lasting impression.

Overall, a real ripper is something or someone that stands out from the crowd, something that makes us take notice and say, "Wow, that's really something special."

Murdoch will win you over….despite yourself.

Hilary Burde has a tragic upbringing. Growing up in poverty and being abused, he is fortunate to have a tutor who notices his language skills and helps him refine them. Thanks to this, he is admitted to Oxford, where he discovers a rich learning environment and yet another dedicated tutor. He flourishes and dreams of rescuing himself and his younger sister from their difficult childhood. However, just as he is about to take flight, he commits a heinous act and his world collapses.

Burde is one of the most despicable literary characters I've ever come across. Nevertheless, Murdoch's portrayal is captivating, and her pacing is exquisite. Hillary seems to be saying, "I can't forgive myself, so it's your responsibility to, if not forgive me, excuse my bad behavior towards you. You owe me. I'm entitled to indulge my basest instincts. I hate myself so much that I'm entitled to hate and abuse you." His perspective is rather fascinating.

Murdoch's style is unique. The writing is sometimes incredibly beautiful, but the characters, especially the main one, are awful. I've read her "Black Prince" and "The Nice and the Good," which I also liked, but "A Word Child" is on a whole different plane. I wish I could say I love her books, but they are so lurid that I can't. Like all her books, "Word" has an air of exalted learning, the kind that Oxford and similar institutions are famous for. This makes it harder to relate to the action. "The educated Psychopath" could be an alternative title.

Although "Word Child" was written in the mid-80s, it could easily be mistaken for something from the fifties due to the mores and sexism that would be more appropriate in that era. Maybe Philip Roth was her proofreader, although this cast of characters shows that not only men can be misogynists. More likely, Murdoch is making a point about one individual's warped mind. Poor Hilary. Even worse off are the women who come into contact with him. The men who cross his path don't enjoy his company much either.

I almost feel foolish reviewing Murdoch's book because she writes with such depth of knowledge and understanding of people, at least a certain group of them, that her books seem beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. She is like a scientist dissecting living things to see what's inside. I don't think she's the greatest writer who ever lived, but she is extremely talented. However, she's not for everyone. Her work is dark. Her characters writhe and suffer, and they make the reader suffer along with them. It's not pretty. Well, actually, it kind of is beautiful. It's a beauty that surprises you, especially when you turn the page and encounter something even more tawdry, then flip another page and find yourself in an oasis of beauty. But even as you turn the next page, you're trembling, knowing you're going to be plunged back into the icy waters.....and it's the dead of winter. It's too late for me. This book has strengthened my dedication to Murdoch. It's not too late for you. SAVE YOURSELF.