Pace, character, and stakes--Murdoch's mistress of 'em all. So much changes so quickly, for reasons we understand why, and effects such different characters in such different ways because she's given us insight into their quirks and circumstances. My favorite device of hers is how she alternates chapter formats: one long, meditative chapter from the perspective of a secondary character contemplating a momentary crisis, followed by a short, narrative chapter following a primary character through many activities, followed by a chapter entirely in dialogue, depicting a group scene showing no action at all but all interpretation of the recent past, and then a furious flurry of letters in response to the action, which in turn spurs the next round of events.Funny funny funny, moving touching sweet, harrowing horrid horrid.
Iris Murdoch novels are a known pleasure, but it had been so long since I read one that I'd forgotten how delicious they are. No other author has ever made such racing narratives out of moral muddles and doubts of the metaphysical kind, and puzzling over which philosophical rants are likely to represent the true Murdochian view is half the fun. Humor and tragedy both have their moments in this novel of the sixties, which revolves around a young American man's decision to stay in England to avoid fighting in Vietnam, and we are reminded (as in every Murdoch novel) of how easily our obsession with ourselves can end up damaging those around us.
