Well, well well – I was worried about getting to this one as it’s traditionally been ‘the one I don’t really like’ but you could knock me down with a feather this time round (the third time of reading at very least; I can’t remember when I read them all before the time before last, unfortunately) as it wasn’t horrible! It was terribly Murdochian, full of themes and little echoes of the other books, and really not bad at all. OK, it’s never going to be my favourite, but I’m glad I ignored the friends who said, “If you don’t want to read it, don’t read it” and persisted with my Challenge!
A note on the edition: I’ve got the hardback and paperback first editions (Chatto & Windus and then Penguin) and I feel this is the only other one, a Vintage Classics one but one of the ones they didn’t do with a red spine, and with no additional introduction. It’s even the same print on the pages. Not great value and I sort of wish I hadn’t bothered. They certainly aren’t going to do this in their fancy new-new edition. Mind you, from now on it’s a first and a Penguin for all of us, as Vintage don’t appear to have ever published the final two novels.
If you’re doing the readalong or even selected books along with me, or of course some time afterwards, do share how you’re getting on and which have been your favourites so far.
Iris Murdoch – “The Message to the Planet”
(28 December 2018)
As in “The Book and the Brotherhood”, we have another loose group of friends and their friends who met at university (or art college), only this time one of them is apparently dying, believing himself cursed by Marcus Vallar, a sort of Crimond-in-overdrive who turned his hand to maths and painting then vanished. But one of the friends has tracked him down and wants to bring him to the house where Jack, successful painter and trying to introduce his latest mistress into his house, is waited on by the ever-patient Franca, the worm who will never turn. Will Marcus return and un-curse Patrick? Is he a visionary or a madman? Set between London and a very posh psychiatric hospital and the village it’s near, the book examines truth and madness, Jewishness and faith, marriage and adultery.
In themes, we have hair, with Franca’s great big complicated bun coming down at moments of stress and Marcus’ red-gold hair, cropped savagely but still shining, as does Alison’s, growing out from one of those Murdoch pixie cuts. Water is always present, sheets of it front of grand houses and and characters talk by the Thames when in London. Marcus swims in the pool while Franca and Maisie indulge in some wild swimming in the river. Stones, of course, the Axle Stone the main one and lots of stones given as gifts or picked up and chinking together in Ludens’ pocket. As usual, people give each other stones, too. Maisie loves stones and collects them at her house: a good person, if not a saint. There are no animals until the dog at the end which signals and makes real Irina’s new situation – a really beautifully drawn dog, though!
There are lots of echoes – Franca burns papers when she moves in the house, Marcus and Irina when they move from the Red Cottage. Franca and then Alison proposition Ludens. Ludens and Patrick are doubled up as servants and devotees of Marcus (although Ludens does all the work afterwards). Ludens is given two stones, and there are two great houses with ponds in front of them. Ludens thinks of Marcus as his father, so he has two fathers (both true) as well as two mothers (one dead, true, one stepmother, false).
The book has the usual foreshadowings and doominess. We are told that Ludens’ last encounter with Marcus was somehow horrific and never spoken about (and find out what it was) and this extends to Ludens’ lodger writing to him with something to tell (which does eventually come out), and Ludens feels as if he is waiting for something to happen.
Marcus is clearly the enchanter figure here. He’s introduced as such from the beginning:
‘He damaged you,’ said Jack. ‘He was a bit of a cold fish. But he didn’t harm Ludens, and he positively helped me, he set me up!’ (p2)
He is described as having “stunned admirers” (p. 8) and we continue to see him from lots of different viewpoints, stressing the effect he has had on people, with his “air of superiority” (p. 9) although it’s noteworthy that women tend to find him “awful” (IM’s emphasis). He bewitches Fanny and then of course there’s the sort of collective hysteria of the Stone People and village folk (although the woman from the pub remains unconvinced and Ludens says it’s making him in to a charlatan). Jack even calls him “That old enchanter” (p. 348)
Who is the saint? I rather think it is Franca. Surely the fact that she is described as “concentrat[ing] her attention” on what Marcus is doing when he’s reanimating Patrick is significant, given IM’s insistence on attention as a virtue. Patrick has described Franca as a saint to Alison and Alison is infuriated by Franca’s “genuine – genuine goddamn unselfishness!” (p. 447). (However, this selfishness does win out in the end). Alison later, in her letter leaving Jack, refers to her “humble, I suppose saintly is the word, courage which enables her to stay in place” (p. 525). At the end, Franca has fought the battle “and been perfectly defeated” and has not a triumphant but a “relieved exhausted defeated smile” (p. 539) and perhaps this is what gives her her sainthood. However, it is Ludens who says “We just live in bottomless chaos and have to help each other, that’s all” (p. 166) which is a good portrayal of IM writing on how to be good. Wanting to be a saint, maybe, Marcus talks about the need to be “empty yet attentive” (p. 353) but I’m not sure he achieves this. Marzillian describes Marcus in terms of what “great saints and mystics” experience, but I don’t think he can be a saint, however much he’s worked miracles, as he doesn’t absorb pain and other people’s experiences but seems to upset and control people instead. Then, what about Gildas, defrocked priest, on the edges taking in things and not passing them on, and ending up evicted and poor but planning to
try out life at the bottom and see if it is possible to help other people, a thing incidentally which he never tried to do. (p. 560)
I very much liked Marcus’ amazement at what people saw in his paintings: he “could ‘see nothing’ of the so-called ‘meanings’, some of which shocked him very much” (p. 11) which echoes IM’s own comments on the reader seeing what they want to see in her novels (cf my work on Iris Murdoch and the Common Reader). This flash of humour is an admittedly rare one in the book. The threatening figure of Marcus’ Japanese teacher, always looming around in his last flat, does raise a smile, but there’s little other outright humour that I could find (though some farce with letters, a mess made of moving Franca’s divan and some savage irony with leavings and settings-up-with). Maybe Franca is a bit amusing in a horrible way with her dead grey faces in the waves and image of dead babies while she watches Alison eating cake, and Ludens’ struggle with his trousers when preparing to go to bed with Irina is also funny for a few paragraphs. Ludens again gives us a smile as he approaches the fringes of madness:
When he had an image of the two stones fighting in his pocket Ludens decided to close down this line of thought unless he wished to become one of Marzillian’s patients. (p. 370)
IM’s feminist comments, long denied by me now seen everywhere rotate mainly around Franca and her situation. What seems almost natural in their Bohemian world is criticised strongly by the rather wonderful Maisie Tether, who also gets Franca painting again. Franca’s own art was lost when she married, and she’s seen as having lost the ability to stop all this mistresses by not putting her foot down at the beginning, although why she did not is plausibly explained: “Oh the lies women believe, and will to believe and want to believe!” (p. 171) or “too tired and too silly to realise you are able to go away” (p. 268). She has had her mother’s example, too, of course: “Her mother’s miserable docile life with that cruel man” (p. 406). The strongest words indeed are put in Maisie’s mouth:
I know about husbands, I know their little ways, I’ve watched them at work, thank God I never had one. He loves you and cherishes you but two painters in the family won’t do. You got married and decided you weren’t much good! That’s our history in a nutshell! Now isn’t it time for you to fight back? (p. 248)
So you prefer a permanent unfaithfulness to an occasional one, you collude in a situation which demeans you, and exposes him as a rotter! And if the girl enjoys it she must be a vulgar hussy! Are you living in a dream world? I find this disgusting, I pity you! (p. 250)
She even has something to say about education:
I can’t see the point of co-education, it’s always the girls who suffer, they have enough trouble with men without positively asking for it. (p. 266)
and I do like her complaint about nuns in short skirts! Alison takes to drink when she discovers “what a swindle it all was” (p. 448)
In links to other books, once again poor old Franca finds that Jack likes to see her “sewing or cooking or doing anything quiet and rhythmical in the house” (p. 22-3): I’m not sure when this sewing thing starts but it’s come up again and again in the more recent slew of the books. Patrick’s song about the silver spoon echoes the dying Guy’s song in “Nuns and Soldiers”. We have several instances of looking in and out of windows – Ludens looking in at Marcus, then Irina seen on the lawn with a bicycle. Then Ludens actually follows Irina through the twilight, and runs after the white figure of Fanny at the stone, so we’re back to flitting figures and their chasers, then Irina sees Fanny standing on the grass and later still Ludens follows Marcus through the dewy grass. There is talk by Marcus of metamorphosis – a big challenge – and Ludens wonders if he’s having to go through an ordeal (cf every main character since about “Nuns and Soldiers”) and at the end is back in London, his quest over. Marcus describes his mind as being “like fishes in a net”, harking back to the first novel, perhaps (p. 167). Jack has a bronze dancing shiva and isn’t that mentioned in “The Book and the Brotherhood” or is it just on the front of the paperback? The large grey stone on a plinth echoes the Lingam Stone in “The Good Apprentice”. We have another saintly father in Maisie Tether’s and I wonder if this is another nod to IM’s beloved father. A paragraph setting everyone in their place (p. 282) echoes a set of similar ones in “The Book and the Brotherhood”. Maisie is a lapsed Quaker, a nice link to “The Philosopher’s Pupil” where I think our last Quakers were. Another link to “The Philosopher’s Pupil” comes when Marzilian says that something like this, connected to the Axle Stone, has happened before, “something less extreme” (p. 333). Part Six, made up almost entirely of letters, recalls epistolatory chapters in other books and reminds us of IM’s art again, each voice distinct and preserved in a letter. Almost at the end we have one of IM’s prosaic explanations for mysterious thoughts or phenomena (like the bent knees of the skiiers in whichever novel that was in) – the booming Ludens hears is military manoeuvres on Salisbury Plain, Fanny tells him.
Feelings on re-reading this. I noticed and admired Franca a lot more. Once again, although their ages weren’t given, I feel I was the same age or older than the main characters. I hadn’t really noticed before that we see almost all of the action through Franca’s and Ludens’ eyes and experience their inner lives, without either being a first-person narrator, something the mature novelist IM is has the ability to carry off: I was impressed this time when we appeared to be in Ludens’ head on meeting Marzillian only for him to say with no warning that he might be Armenian. I really liked Daniel Most, the rabbi, too, someone I had hardly noticed before, although I’d remembered his name. Irina seems silly and the Stone People a bit facile, too. This has always reminded me of the last book in “A Dance to the Music of Time”, which features a guru, followers, stones and the 1980s, and it still does. Little details reminded me it is set in the 1980s – they discuss whether Patrick has Aids or “an obscure African virus” (which made me think of Bruce Chatwin and his obscure virus).
Please either place your review in the comments, discuss mine or others’, or post a link to your review if you’ve posted it on your own blog, Goodreads, etc. I’d love to know how you’ve got on with this book and if you read it having read others of Murdoch’s novels or this was a reread, I’d love to hear your specific thoughts on those aspects, as well as if it’s your first one!
If you’re catching up or looking at the project as a whole, do take a look at the project page, where I list all the blog posts so far.
Oct 18, 2019 @ 14:55:13
Hurrah! Glad the book turned out not to be horrid!
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Oct 18, 2019 @ 14:57:36
I was expecting my attitude to have changed given how different this re-reading has been, but I was very relieved! I’ve even got it reviewed relatively early in the month!
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Oct 18, 2019 @ 20:40:21
How lovely that you enjoyed this one so much more than you remembered.
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Oct 20, 2019 @ 17:44:03
Such a relief!
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Oct 22, 2019 @ 01:18:05
Thank you, Liz, for your splendid summing up of this book’s themes and the links to other books. I so enjoyed reconnecting with this one, having read it only once before, when it first came out! One unexpected consequence on this re-reading was that I began to see bicycles everywhere. I’d never realized how many bicycles are parked on my street at 6 AM.
I remember when I first read this book, I told people it was her most Jamesian. On this read, I’m not sure what I meant by that comment. Maybe I was thinking of how beautifully she details the fluctuations of thought and emotion in Ludens and Franca. Or maybe I was alluding to the philosophical conversations between Ludens and Marcus, which give me the feeling I sometimes get reading James’s later novels that I’m just barely hanging on to the thread – or possibly not even hanging on – while making intuitive leaps to understand what is being said. I am impressed on this reading with just how well she conveys through these conversations the struggles of a “philosopher’s pupil,” of sorts, trying to keep up with the mental leaps of his revered teacher, while also having to question if the thoughts are the ramblings of someone whose powers are deteriorating.
Murdoch describes these thoughts from Ludens’s point of view as “thoughts that one might die of, thoughts which might make others die,” and goes on in one of my favorite passages: “Ludens suddenly pictured Marcus’s thoughts as large black eagles hurling themselves again and again upon a vast opaque motionless sheet of glass. And yet these brave heroic thoughts would be, to almost all people, not only unintelligible but nonsensical, futile, a waste of mental power, a waste of human will – while millions starved.” At least I have the comfort of knowing if I can’t follow these thoughts, maybe I’m not expected to.
I like Liz’s description of Marcus as Crimond in overdrive. But whereas Crimond has been able to express his thoughts in the long-awaited book, Marcus doesn’t even seem interested in writing his ideas down, however much Ludens may encourage him. In this repect, the relationship recalled to me Hugo and Jake in Under the Net, but in that earlier, more lighthearted novel, the teacher’s thoughts were coherent enough that Jake could fashion a book out of them. In both novels there is the sense that mere language is inadequate to convey the truth.
Like Liz, I was struck by how limited the point of view is. After The Book and the Brotherhood especially, where Murdoch delves into so many characters’ thoughts, it came as a surprise to see this book focused on Ludens’s consciousness, with occasional forays into Franca’s point of view. It is interesting that Ludens and Franca both appear as the glue (or perhaps they just see themselves as the glue, the binding element) in their separate menages; and they become the focal points through which the other two players in the relationship are seen. Ludens binds himself to Irina and Marcus both as pupil/scribe and fiancée, while Franca shifts her relationship to Jack and Allison, becoming mother and companion, in order to preserve at least the semblance of unity. But their status in these relationships is not cut and dried, and the paths they take have very different outcomes.
In other ways Ludens reminds me of Jack. Like Ludens, Jack has played the pupil to Marcus, using Marcus’s art as a springboard for his own artistic evolution. And both Ludens and Jack operate under a questionable vision of a perfect future with the other two people in their triad. As with so much of Murdoch’s fiction, the characters seem to reflect off each other like a house of mirrors. (I am now reminded of the strange Viking cover picturing a chair reflected in two mirrors).
On rereading this I found it much easier to take in than I recall on my first reading. At the Murdoch conference this summer, I noted this work popped up in quite a few of the talks I attended. One presenter told me it was her favorite Murdoch. I’m glad to see such an interest in one of her later and lesser known works, as I think it’s a wonderfully well-constructed and thought-provoking novel, well worth reading – and re-reading.
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Oct 22, 2019 @ 07:13:50
That’s interesting about your Jamesian comment! Myself, I can’t see why I disliked this one at least twice before! I certainly agree it was easier to take in. I’ve noticed less ‘hard’ philosophy all told this time round, so either I’m better at ignoring what I don’t understand or I understand more – who knows! It is definitely worth reading and, as I’ve found out, re-reading. I like your talk of the two triads, which didn’t really coalesce in my mind as a central idea of the book but is obviously so when you point it out. And yes, maybe that funny cover on the US edition wasn’t as funny, after all!
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Oct 23, 2019 @ 02:31:22
I was happy to see after writing my review and reading the comments that I wasn’t alone in struggling with the ideas and philosophy in this one. I’ll admit I often find many of the philosophical discussions that take place in Murdoch’s novels exhausting but far more so in this one and I’m glad to hear from Peter that this might even be intentional.
Despite my frustration with Ludens, he wasn’t a truly dislikable man, I did feel empathy for him in his struggle with Marcus and his disappointment at the end, although his occasional misogyny meant that didn’t last for too long. I simply felt he wasn’t engaging enough to carry the majority of the book especially when there were other characters who were far more appealing, Franca and Maisie in particular.
I also found Gildas appealing though he plays a relatively small part, we find out at the end that much has happened to him during the course of the novel but we only get a few sentences of explanation, I’m assuming to show how Ludens obsession with Marcus excluded all else. Gildas is another one in the long line of religious men or women who have lost their faith in Murdoch’s novels and it’s interesting that Patrick says he has gone back to religion but not God, it seems as though Christ is always the focus for Murdoch’s people of faith.
I enjoyed the settings as always, the hospital, the focus on the country village and of course all the meals although I found that the Stone Seekers made this feel like more of a seventies novel than eighties. The novel as a whole seemed rather old fashioned apart from, as Liz pointed out, the AIDS reference, but perhaps I’ve simply blocked out how far away in time the eighties were!
Anyway, although it wasn’t a favorite for me, it was still superior to so much other writing and it’s always a pleasure to read everyone’s thoughts on rereading. Oh and Peter, I liked what you said about the mirror reference, I have that edition and was puzzled as to why the cover had that image.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3022071138?book_show_action=false
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Oct 28, 2019 @ 09:46:55
Yes, I agree about the setting feeling 1970s and I think the Dance to the Music of time volume that this always reminds me of was set then, too. it is funny to think we are trying to understand what Marcus is saying but it might be the ravings of an unhinged mind after all. I love, as always, the quotes you pick out in your Goodreads review. The women’s barely repressed violence and physical shopping, making, holding does contrast with the men’s cerebral discussions, doesn’t it.
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Oct 23, 2019 @ 18:37:15
I am so glad Liz enjoyed this one after her misgivings and it is lovely to read such positive reviews of this enormous book. It is not immediately a ‘page-turner’ and there are an awful lot of pages, but it certainly repays re-reading. Thank you also for such lovely rich observations on your reading – I enjoyed the hair report and the stone census as well as some perceptive points on the ideas and issues covered in the novel. I like Liz’s point that Marcus Vallar could not see what others saw in his paintings evokes Iris Murdoch’s surprise at what her readers saw in her novels. I also
Thank you also, Peter, for your thoughts on your previous perception that this was Murdoch’s Jamesian novel. I must confess Henry James is rather lost on me – I really want to see in him what others do, but, so far, I cannot get into his work at all. But I did like Peter’s subsequent revision of this and his reflection that he finds the impression that he is hanging on a thread and making intuitive leaps to understand the philosophy. This is a great way of describing the experience of reading and perhaps this is what I may not be appreciating when I try to read Henry James. The image of Marcus’s thoughts as great black eagles hurling themselves against the opaque glass really is amazing. Murdoch often does use bird images for terrible thoughts – I am thinking of Carel Fisher in The Time of the Angels imagining that the truth could be ‘like birds huddled in the dust in a dark cupboard’. As Peter argues Murdoch is showing how language does not express the truth. It seems we only get a glimpse of Marcus’s mind as he tries to face the horror of Nazi regime and the human capacity for cruelty and darkness.
The depiction of Marcus and his meditation of the Holocaust make this is a big powerful novel but it also operates on so many different levels. I am not sure what constitutes a feminist novel and although the central core of the novel is masculine – the male friends who do not include the women in their singing- there is an ongoing conversation about what it is to be female with Franca at the centre but involving Maisie as the independent feminine voice and Alison as the young desirable mistress and also Irina. Franca is complex and could in a lesser novel be seen just as the victim and at the end is but as Liz argues she is the saint because she gives attention to those around her. She keeps Jack in the end because she loves him but there is the hint that what she has gone through has changed her. The scene when she has a conversation with Jack when she appears to comply completely and calmly with his selfish proposal to move his mistress Alison into the marital home and that they can all live together as ‘a circle of love’ is followed by an extraordinary scene where she first of all lays the table for a meal which is a ceremony where she realises total love can be transformed into pure hate and she is absolutely murderous. It is a sort of sacrament and she is both terrified and rather amused by what she has made of herself.
There are references to the Christian Holy Trinity and as already pointed out there are triads who conduct the conversations in the novel, Ludens is the fulcrum of the story and Marcus stands alone, as does Irina his daughter, as she is separate from the main action. As well three male friends – Patrick, Gildas and Jack Sheerwater, and three female viewpoints Franca, Maisie and Alison, there are three Jewish viewpoints Marcus Vallar, Ludens and the Rabbi Daniel Most and three medical carers Dr Marzillian, Camilla and Terence Bland.
Jo makes a good point that the novel seems to belong more to the 1970s than the 1980s and I agree the depiction of the world outside the closed circle of the main characters is not convincing . Reading the novels chronologically I have been struck by how through the decades Iris Murdoch’s novels reflect the time in which they were written – but this one does not reflect its time. It seems Iris Murdoch is more concerned with the inner life than the world of 1989.
I must admit I felt quite a lot of sympathy for Ludens and felt at the end he was a lonely man. He is trying to find a place for himself in the world and to come to terms with his Jewishness. At the end he is mourning the death of his enchanter Marcus and his is writing destroyed, Irina is married to an English lord, and he muses that he communicated better with Irina’s dog than any other being apart from Gildas. Gildas I find a mysterious figure who exists through music but he is a good man and loves Ludens.
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Oct 25, 2019 @ 13:30:48
Thank you for your comments. I absolutely love your set of threes, very plausible and interesting and one I’d missed in looking for duos! I like your reading of Franca, too. I saw her as more layered with meanings and attributes this time around for sure. Gildas is an odd one, with his whole life going on outside the book.
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Oct 23, 2019 @ 18:43:52
I am so glad Liz enjoyed this one after her misgivings and it is lovely to read such positive reviews of this enormous book. It is not immediately a ‘page-turner’ and there are an awful lot of pages, but it certainly repays re-reading. Thank you also for such lovely rich observations on your reading – I enjoyed the hair report and the stone census as well as some perceptive points on the ideas and issues covered in the novel. I like Liz’s point that Marcus Vallar could not see what others saw in his paintings evokes Iris Murdoch’s surprise at what her readers saw in her novels. I also
Thank you also, Peter, for your thoughts on your previous perception that this was Murdoch’s Jamesian novel. I must confess Henry James is rather lost on me – I really want to see in him what others do, but, so far, I cannot get into his work at all. But I did like Peter’s subsequent revision of this and his reflection that he finds the impression that he is hanging on a thread and making intuitive leaps to understand the philosophy. This is a great way of describing the experience of reading and perhaps this is what I may not be appreciating when I try to read Henry James. The image of Marcus’s thoughts as great black eagles hurling themselves against the opaque glass really is amazing. Murdoch often does use bird images for terrible thoughts – I am thinking of Carel Fisher in The Time of the Angels imagining that the truth could be ‘like birds huddled in the dust in a dark cupboard’. As Peter argues Murdoch is showing how language does not express the truth. It seems we only get a glimpse of Marcus’s mind as he tries to face the horror of Nazi regime and the human capacity for cruelty and darkness.
The depiction of Marcus and his meditation of the Holocaust make this is a big powerful novel but it also operates on so many different levels. I am not sure what constitutes a feminist novel and although the central core of the novel is masculine – the male friends who do not include the women in their singing- there is an ongoing conversation about what it is to be female with Franca at the centre but involving Maisie as the independent feminine voice and Alison as the young desirable mistress and also Irina. Franca is complex and could in a lesser novel be seen just as the victim and at the end is but as Liz argues she is the saint because she gives attention to those around her. She keeps Jack in the end because she loves him but there is the hint that what she has gone through has changed her. The scene when she has a conversation with Jack when she appears to comply completely and calmly with his selfish proposal to move his mistress Alison into the marital home and that they can all live together as ‘a circle of love’ is followed by an extraordinary scene where she first of all lays the table for a meal which is a ceremony where she realises total love can be transformed into pure hate and she is absolutely murderous. It is a sort of sacrament and she is both terrified and rather amused by what she has made of herself.
There are references to the Christian Holy Trinity and as already pointed out there are triads who conduct the conversations in the novel, Ludens is the fulcrum of the story and Marcus stands alone, as does Irina his daughter, as she is separate from the main action. As well three male friends – Patrick, Gildas and Jack Sheerwater, and three female viewpoints Franca, Maisie and Alison, there are three Jewish viewpoints Marcus Vallar, Ludens and the Rabbi Daniel Most and three medical carers Dr Marzillian, Camilla and Terence Bland.
Jo makes a good point that the novel seems to belong more to the 1970s than the 1980s and I agree the depiction of the world outside the closed circle of the main characters is not convincing . Reading the novels chronologically I have been struck by how through the decades Iris Murdoch’s novels reflect the time in which they were written – but this one does not reflect its time. It seems Iris Murdoch is more concerned with the inner life than the world of 1989.
I must admit I felt quite a lot of sympathy for Ludens and felt at the end he was a lonely man. He is trying to find a place for himself in the world and to come to terms with his Jewishness. At the end he is mourning the death of his enchanter Marcus and his is writing destroyed, Irina is married to an English lord, and he muses that he communicated better with Irina’s dog than any other being apart from Gildas. Gildas I find a mysterious figure who exists through music but he is a good man and loves Ludens.
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Nov 06, 2019 @ 08:15:32
I’m so sorry that your comment somehow went into my spam folder, really not sure how that happened, but here you are now, and I’m glad you hadn’t dropped away! This is a good summing up of all our readings of the novel, and I’m glad you got a lot out of it, too. It’s certainly more a feminist novel than I thought the other two or three times I read it, and that’s been an interesting trend through this time around in the whole oeuvre.
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“The Message to the Planet” round-up and “The Green Knight” preview #IMReadalong @IrisMurdoch | Adventures in reading, running and working from home
Oct 31, 2019 @ 07:01:07
Apr 03, 2020 @ 17:58:06
After putting this book down, I felt pretty that I had enjoyed what I had read. I just wasn’t at all sure what I had read.
This was doubly strange because, as many of you have already pointed out, there are so many familiar Murdoch themes of faith, the teacher / enchanter and the pupil, shifting emotional and sexual relationship.
The setting is also very familiar; a group of well-educated, upper-class sophisticates moving between beautiful English countryside and London high life.
And yet, when I got the end, I wasn’t sure what I had read. Doing some later digging, I came across this quote, originally from the NYT Book Review that sums up my response: “I still don’t know whether it is a great novel, a merely interesting one, or an unclassifiable pandemonium”
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Apr 05, 2020 @ 08:40:27
Lovely to find your reviews popping through – thank you! It is a funny one, isn’t it, should be a classic IM, is somehow really peculiar.
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