![]() ![]() Yet at every turn he is beset by complications. The first two hundred pages amble along as Bradley Pearson, recently retired from a career as an Inspector of Taxes, dreams of retreating to the country to write his magnum opus. Murdoch never allowed anyone to edit her work and at times this results in awkwardly paced, idiosyncratically phrased works. The prose is smooth and natural, and the imagery wonderfully symbolic. Murdoch masterfully constructs her plot to rework aspects of Hamlet and bookends it with forewords and postscripts by the characters which counterpoint, clarify, and question what has taken place. Yet they are comprehensively drawn and engaging. The characters are often unappealing: petty middle class middle age creatures driven by duplicity and jealousy. You read it engrossed, though at times wonder why. Part metaphysical enquiry into the nature of art and truth, part romantic liaison, part psychological thriller. It is a fascinatingly strange novel, slippery and difficult to put down. So concludes The Black Prince, Iris Murdoch’s fifteenth novel which many consider her best. And after art there is, let me assure you all, nothing.” It is the light by which human things can be mended. Art tells the only truth that ultimately matters. ![]() We’re pleased to welcome back guest reviewer Sam Ruddock with the second of his regular monthly reviews. ![]()
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