I read the first half of the book very quickly.

However, then I ground to a halt. I found that I didn't immediately want to carry on. Instead, I read a few other things before returning to it.

I think that her books are rather like very rich food. They are tasty at first, but rapidly lead to queasiness and indigestion.

The main problem, I think, is that it is far too long. There is an amazing amount of repetition. The main character does the same things over and over and over again. This may have been deliberate, but it just becomes so wearisome for the reader.

Apart from that, I found the whole story to be utterly unbelievable. The characters are ridiculous and the style is tedious. Her writing has dated very quickly. It's hard to believe that she had such a great reputation.

It's overblown nonsense. When I got to the end, my main reaction, apart from intense relief, was one of: "So what?" Deeply disappointing.

A good 'un indeed.

The first half of this piece has a rather similar exasperation factor to that of "The Sea, The Sea," what with its insufferable male narrator who also happens to be the central character. One can't help but feel a certain degree of annoyance as one delves into his self-centered world.

However, things take a turn for the better once the guy's world starts to crumble. It then becomes highly satisfactory, not because the guy is being tormented per se, but rather due to the moral conundrums that spring up. These conundrums add a layer of depth and complexity to the story.

Somehow, they are resolved, which gives a sense of closure and makes the reading experience all the more fulfilling. An alternate title for this could be "British People In Cold Weather," perhaps hinting at the cold and unforgiving nature of the situations the characters find themselves in.

Overall, it's a piece that manages to engage the reader, despite its initial flaws, and leaves one with something to think about.

The second book written by Madame Murdoch that I am reading and which completely takes me out of reality. For me, the novel has a strong theatrical character, so I couldn't label it as being implausible or soap-opera like, as I have seen in some comments, even though it abounds in pathetic dialogues and paroxysmal scenes. Reading it through a realistic filter does it a great disservice. It is surely a masquerade, but an absolutely brilliant one.

The characters that populate it are not the ordinary people around us, we are not them, they are paper people, people constructed only of words and a long-cultivated imagination. It makes no sense to try to humanize them more than necessary. Hillary is odious. (And it's hard for me to believe that I gave 5 stars to a narrative that brings such a character to the forefront). Crystal is a shadow. Thommy is a bad one. Laura is ridiculous. Kitty is frivolous. Arthur is gullible, Clifford, an eternal suicidal, Cristopher always floats in the clouds of marijuana, Gunnar is (perhaps) vindictive. Is there any likable character? Maybe Annie's staff. (I'm kidding). There remains, then, Biscuit with her safaris.

These labels only matter to the extent that you want to do an exercise in imagination and place them all, in different combinations, around a table. What enormities would they say? How many secrets would they hide? How many sentences would remain unfinished? What intrigues would they weave? The truth is that I loved their dinners like crazy, the ones rigorously planned and full of charm (given by the countless impositions). Yes, they eat a lot, they drink, they have fun. They also complain a lot. The river of tears produced by the Scotch more than I imagined it as an affluent of the Thames. (Oops) They also die. Suddenly and stupidly, but also symbolically.

And I must also admit that never before has London seemed more enchanting to me than in the pages of this novel, and I say this from the position of a slightly anglophobic reader. Come on, departures. Brilliant.

Only Iris Murdoch has the remarkable ability to transform what is essentially a melodramatic soap opera into a profound and serious drama.

The story is told from the perspective of a first-person narrator, an unlikable, lonely, and socially awkward middle-aged man. He clumsily handles and ruins multiple love relationships, not only his own but also those between other characters.

Throughout the narrative, he gradually learns some extremely painful lessons that force him to confront his flaws and grow.

I have a great admiration for Murdoch's writing style. Her words have the power to draw readers in and make them fully invested in the complex and often tumultuous lives of the characters.

This book is truly a very good read, offering both entertainment and deep insights into the human condition. It makes one reflect on the nature of love, relationships, and personal growth.

Murdoch's skill in creating such a vivid and engaging story is truly impressive, and it is no wonder that her works are highly regarded in the literary world.