This book is truly infuriating.

I found myself constantly cursing at both the book and the characters within it. However, despite my frustration, the story itself is incredibly intriguing.

It doesn't put on any false pretenses but rather tells a story about characters that, in a strange way, make sense. This story truly mirrors reality because, let's face it, people often don't make sense in real life either.

This is precisely why I ended up liking the book. Nevertheless, I did not like the ending one bit.

The character of Blaise Gavander is so annoying that he makes everyone want to slap his face repeatedly. It's as if the author deliberately created him to be a source of irritation.

Overall, this book is a complex mix of emotions, with its engaging story and frustrating elements.

I really struggled with how to rate this book. On one hand, I absolutely hated the ending. It was so unexpected and dissatisfying that it actually made me angry. It felt like all the build-up and anticipation throughout the story was for nothing. On the other hand, up until the last 30 pages, I truly loved reading this book. It was engaging, thought-provoking, and held my attention from start to finish. It gave me a lot to think about and I found myself constantly reflecting on the themes and characters. In fact, I couldn't put it down. I was completely immersed in the story and eager to see what would happen next. So, in the end, I'm still not sure how to rate this book. Do I let the disappointing ending overshadow the rest of the book? Or do I focus on the enjoyment and value I got from the majority of it?

I have been reading all that has been translated into Spanish by this author. Some I like more and others less, but none have disappointed me so far.

It is a novel of characters, love, moral dilemmas, deceptions, falsehood, cynicism, and selfishness. In this novel, you will not like any of the characters. Surely they will seem unpleasant to you, and this relationship that is generated with the reader is also the one that the characters themselves have, in which selfishness predominates above all else. In the end, it is a reflection of what happens in relationships when we are not able to look beyond ourselves and of what we are capable of justifying in the name of love.

The importance of context in establishing relationships and shaping people is also underlying in the text. In the end, social class matters whether we like it or not.

Reading Iris Murdoch is always a guarantee of philosophizing about man and the way we relate.

Each book I read by Iris Murdoch I like more than the previous one. And I don't necessarily mean that it's a better book or that I like the plot more. Instead, once you get a sense of her way of narrating, of her recurring characters and arguments, you enjoy it twice as much.

In "The Sacred and Profane Love Machine", we again have the elegant tangle: love, deceit, sexual desire, a lot of reflection and lofty conversations. Abrupt endings and repeated beginnings. A theatrical coming and going of characters who seek meaning in their lives or who simply survive. A perfect puzzle with a rounded ending.

Murdoch's writing is like a rich tapestry, weaving together complex emotions and ideas. Her characters are vivid and flawed, making them relatable and engaging. The stories she tells are not always easy, but they are always thought-provoking.

As I read her books, I find myself drawn into her world, experiencing the joys and sorrows of her characters along with them. I am constantly amazed by her ability to create such a rich and detailed fictional universe.

Overall, I highly recommend the works of Iris Murdoch to anyone who loves literature and wants to explore the depths of the human condition.

A good story as usual with Murdoch, where the main character is a self-made unqualified psychiatrist.

All the characters, except one, seem to be plucked from such a psychiatrist's list of patients. And that one exception ends up in a worse state than the others after her attempts to deal with the events created by those around her.

On reflection, after reading the book, it's remarkable how the two children in the book have no shown interaction with grandparents or peers. No wonder they have mental health issues!

Also remarkable is how Murdoch seems to avoid any details of the profane aspects of the book. It's like reading a George Elliot novel where such matters can only be surmised. But these omissions allow Murdoch to focus on her strengths and keep the storyline focused and stimulating.

She manages to create a complex web of characters and relationships, exploring the depths of human nature and the consequences of our actions. The lack of certain details actually adds to the mystery and intrigue of the story, making the reader more engaged and eager to uncover the truth.

Overall, it's a captivating read that showcases Murdoch's talent for storytelling and her ability to create a world that is both believable and thought-provoking.

Iris Murdoch never fails to amaze me.

Another author might handle a situation like this, where a married man who has been having an affair with another woman for years finally confesses, in a rather ordinary and uninteresting way. It could be a typical melodrama where he simply leaves his wife or abandons the mistress, and there would be nothing particularly captivating about it.

However, Murdoch never makes it so straightforward for anyone. Instead, the man attempts to hold onto both women. And Murdoch adds in a son for each woman, a scheming friend of the mistress who meddles, a beautiful 17-year-old girl who is eager to lose her virginity, and several other curious onlookers.

While most domestic dramas seem to be solely about the immediate people involved, Murdoch's books always give the impression that they are about, without sounding overly pretentious, the complex and often absurd human condition.

Moreover, her books are always such a delight to read. If I pick up one of them and read just a single page, I find myself compelled to read the entire thing all over again.

Her unique storytelling and rich character development make her works truly stand out.

My first encounter with Murdoch. I am delicately referring to Iris Murdoch, one of our most杰出的storytellers in the twentieth century.

Unfortunately, she shares the surname with Rupert Murdoch, who represents the lowest common denominator in the twenty-first century, an absolute arsehole.

Unlike Iris, Rupert could never support humans with a decent story or one of truth, dare he even try.

This book took me some time to complete. To be completely honest, the lifestyles of the wealthy crowd and their grand drawing-room dramas, which of course support great white men, really irked me.

That's not to say that Iris Murdoch is rich. Far from it. Her command of words and her clever analysis of characters are so superior that it would make you hesitate to engage in hobby writing and updating Goodreads.

She is truly a master of the craft, and her work is a testament to her talent and creativity.

I look forward to exploring more of her books in the future and delving deeper into her unique world of storytelling.

Finished this one, and I was left thinking, "What on earth did I just read?"

What was the point of it all? Was it really suggesting that we're all just like dogs? That sex and love can drive people to do truly dark things?

Why did the author kill off the character she did, and in such a strange way? And what on earth is supposed to be happening with the boy?

In this novel, Murdoch's prose style is truly splendid, and her characters are intriguing. However, her dialogue can sometimes go on for so long that I found myself wondering if she ever had any editing done.

I often had to put the book down just to take a break. It was an interesting read, but I'm extremely glad that I don't live in that incredibly bleak world.

If you enjoy novels that are intellectual and dark, then this one is recommended.

4,5 stele.

The title of the novel is inspired by the famous painting Sacred and Profane Love by Titian, which is located in the Borghese Gallery in Rome. However, there is no reference in the book to this work of art, but to another painting, equally enigmatic, located in the National Gallery in London, namely The Tempest by Giorgione. In this painting, the main characters are Saint Anthony and Saint George, positioned at a distance from each other so that they do not interact at all. And exactly "in the center of the clearing, in the middle of the bright haze, in the transparent, burning and yellow air, in the middle of the ungraspable without name... a ridiculously fragile, poetic, vibrating tree, at the same time a special and unique tree, on a special and unique evening, when it happened (how strange) that those two saints fulfilled their respective missions (ignoring each other)..." This tree that seems to come from another world is actually the central character of Giorgione's painting, and it is also the source of Harriet Gardner's fascination. At that moment, she is absolutely convinced that her life is very stable and cannot be affected by a major change. Obviously, this will prove to be nothing but a great illusion.

Although the dreams of the central characters in the novel play an important role in the narrative, the novel is not essentially a dreamy one, but they contribute to the creation of a hazy atmosphere that gives the sensation of unreality. Moreover, it is not at all accidental that everything begins on Midsummer Night, when the appearance of a boy at Hood House, the residence of the Gavender family, is noticed by Harriet and her son, David. The two are amazed by the fact that their seven dogs, usually very active, did not bark. Later, the identity of the boy will be revealed. He is none other than Luca, the eight-year-old son of Blaise Gavender, Harriet's husband, who is a psychiatrist, and whose mother is his mistress, Emily McHugh. In short, Harriet has no idea that her husband has had a nine-year relationship with another woman and has a son with her. Blaise's secret life now threatens to come to light, and the consequences of this revelation are impossible to anticipate.

Another important character is the Gavender family's neighbor, the successful thriller writer Montague Small (Monty), whose wife, Sophie, died two months ago because she was suffering from cancer. At first, Monty seems to be devastated by the loss of his wife. Later, things will become much more nuanced.

As expected, the theme of the novel is love in all its forms, marital or adulterous, heterosexual or homosexual, etc. Incidentally, there is an interesting detail that appears in the first pages of the novel and which, whether we like it or not, has a connection with homosexuality, namely the fact that one of Harriet Gavender's seven dogs, "a small black poodle", is named Ganymede. Why would a married woman who simply adores her husband name one of her beloved cats with the name of someone who represents a symbol of homosexual love? The answer is simple: because Iris Murdoch is a writer with a fierce intelligence, but also with an unruly tendency to play with the reader's mind and emotions, so that she constantly makes such underground references (Ganymede is, in Greek mythology, the son of Tros, the founding king of Troy. Due to his beauty that no other mortal could equal, Zeus took him with him to Olympus, where Ganymede became his lover and cupbearer). Like the Trojan hero who bears the same name, Harriet's poodle is not taken by his mistress to Olympus, but home, but "it proved impossible to teach him how to behave indoors". So Ganymede the dog remained outside with his breed, in contrast to Ganymede from mythology, who remained in Olympus forever with the gods.

In conclusion, The Sacred and Profane Lover is another excellent novel by an unrivaled writer. A pleasant read!

Iris Murdoch is a renowned author who has written many poignant books.

One of her notable works is "Living on Paper: Letters from Iris Murdoch, 1934-1995", which offers a unique insight into her life and thoughts through her letters.

"Iris: A Memoir of Iris Murdoch" provides a personal account of the author by those who knew her.

"Iris Murdoch: Dream Girl" delves into the fictional world created by Murdoch.

Some of her other popular novels include "A Severed Head", "The Sea, the Sea", "The Black Prince", "The Bell", "Under the Net", "The Italian Girl", "The Sandcastle", "The Sacred and Profane Love Machine", "A Fairly Honourable Defeat", "The Nice and the Good", "The Philosopher's Pupil", "The Good Apprentice", and "The Red and the Green".

Each of these books explores different themes and ideas,展现了 Murdoch's versatility as a writer.

Her works continue to be widely read and studied, making her an important figure in the world of literature.

A later Murdoch novel, specifically her sixteenth one, titled The Sacred and Profane Love Machine. I went into it completely blind, not having any prior knowledge about it. In terms of atmosphere, it creates a unique blend that reminds me of a cross between A Severed Head and The Nice and the Good. Just like in A Severed Head, it has a play-like feel with a few recurring sets. There's Hood House, where the Gavenders - Blaise, Harriet, and David - reside. Their next-door neighbor Montague Small's house is another significant setting. And then there's the apartment where Blaise keeps his mistress, Emily McHugh, and their eight-year-old son Luca.

The story has a sizeable cast of characters that radiates out from the central love triangle. There are lodgers, neighbors, other family members, mutual friends, and quite a few dogs. Blaise, a psychoanalyst, considers himself a charlatan as he lacks a medical degree and is thinking of going back to study to rectify this. Harriet is similar to Kate from The Nice and the Good, a cheerful but mildly unfulfilled matriarch who loves to be in control. Their son David, 16, looks like a Pre-Raphaelite god and is often disgusted by the reality of the physical world. Montague writes successful but formulaic detective novels and is mourning the recent death of his wife.

One interesting aspect is how, on the first introduction of most characters, we hear about the dreams they've just awakened from. These dreams involve mermaids, cats, dogs, and even a monster with a severed head. David remarks to Monty that dreams can be marvellous, with even the awful things in them having a certain style. Scenes often open with these dreams that feel so real to the characters that they could easily deceive the readers into believing them.

Blaise knows he can't continue his double life, especially after Luca stows away in his car a couple of times to see Hood House. When he confesses to Harriet via a letter, she initially seems to handle it well, almost glowing with self-righteous pride over her reasonable response. However, both she and Emily end up resentful. They question why Blaise should 'win' by keeping both his wife and mistress. Emily taunts him, saying he must feel like the Sultan of Turkey. This leads to a lot of back-and-forth, will-they-won't-they drama that can get a bit tedious. Throughout the book, I noticed overlong sections of internal monologue and narrator commentary on the relationships.

There's a common misperception that Murdoch's books are slow-paced with not much happening, perhaps because her canvas is often small and domestically oriented. But this novel is undoubtedly eventful, including a Shocking Incident. Foreshadowing had hinted that someone was going to die, but it wasn't who or how I expected. When it actually happens, Murdoch presents it in a completely matter-of-fact way: "[X] had perished".

One of the joys of reading a Murdoch novel is seeing how she reworks similar situations and subjects. In this book, I enjoyed tracing the mother-son relationships. There are at least three of them, two of which are quite similar, being smothering and almost erotic. Harriet later tries to subsume Luca into the family as well. I also looked out for the recurring Murdochian enchanter figure, first Blaise, for whom psychiatry is all about power, and then Harriet.

I really enjoyed the first 100 pages or more of the book, but my engagement with it gradually decreased as it went on. Overall, it falls somewhere in the middle for me among the Murdoch novels I've read. (For a full ranking and links to all my previous reviews, see my blog.)

A favorite passage (this is Monty on the perils of working from home!): “If I had an ordinary job to do I’d have to get on with it. Being self-employed I can brood all day. It’s undignified and bad.”

Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.

I was truly intrigued by the premise of the story, and I found the characters to be quite enjoyable.

However, in my personal opinion, Murdoch seems to devote an excessive amount of time to explicating what the various characters are thinking and feeling. Instead of presenting the reader with action that allows them to observe (and decide for themselves) how the cast evolves.

Those numerous pages dedicated to explaining introspection could have been more productively utilized in developing the aspects of the story that the author rushes through. Or, even better, giving the supporting characters more to do than simply ruminating on their emotions.

This would have added more depth and complexity to the narrative, making it a more engaging and satisfying read for the audience.