( 7 reviews )
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Posted: Aug 15 2009
We all have them. Secret thoughts. Secret feelings. Individually, they are mostly trivial. Mostly, they go unsaid, unwritten, unknown. Not so with this novel. Thanks to Iris Murdock, we are privy to the innermost thoughts of her lead character, Bradley Pearson, the Black Prince. Frequently what he says contradicts his actions-----Makes you wonder about some of those political polls, doesn't it-----And, yes, though her 'say whatever is on my mind without really thinking' approach to writing a novel may be madness, there is indeed method in it. What to call it? Let's start by defining what it is not. It's not simple or straightforward. It's not obvious or to the point. Murdock is definitely not from the KISS school of writers. And, don't look for hidden metaphors. You can leave that to others such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway or Flaubert. No, while Murdock's rendition of her character's prissy psyche may be impossible to PowerPoint, in the end, you'll know exactly who Pearson and the other characters all are. There are no hidden meanings because their minds are laid bare. It's like spelunking with Lamont Cranston-----Who knows what evil lurks in the minds of men----The Shadow does. And, now, so do we. To be sure, this is deep stuff. Even frightening. It's not for children. It's not for the faint of heart. But, if you want to discover new insights about human nature, about who you are, spend a few hours spelunking---er, reading-- the Black Prince.
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Posted: Aug 15 2009
What is Truth? Is it necessary in Art? In Love? Iris Murdoch probes these questions in her first-person narrative. Many will no doubt write of this book's intellectual commentary on Love and Art. And for those, Brits and intellectuals mostly, who can pick up all the literary references, it certainly can be read that way. I'm not among that group. For me, these lengthy commentaries were less interesting than the story of Bradley Pearson and his life, which seems to push him toward some fatal incident. I found the story of this self-absorbed, rather fussy, man, always ruminating on his failed art, difficult to like at first. When, however, I began to see him as a character in his own movie, played perhaps by a 60ish Peter O'Toole, I began to enjoy it. He's befuddled by the unexpected circumstances which confront him: the revelation by his friend, Arnold, that he may have killed his own wife; the return to London of Bradley's own divorced wife, Christian; the appearance on his doorstep of his sister, Priscilla, red-eyed and tearful, in flight from her own dysfunctional marriage; and his own long dead "urges" for sex and love. Bradley is incapable of coping with all the chaos and high emotion. His bumbling attempts to handle the situations are both humorous and sad in their naivete and lack of empathy. He finds himself sucked ever deeper into the quicksand of emotion and "drama" that his friends and family have created. Ultimately, he looses himself in fated love for a capricious girl, barely out of her teens, setting in motion the series of events that overwhelms him. She is Beauty, and unspoiled Love. And he falls, headlong, into his own fantasy. Told in Bradley's voice, his veracity is always in question. Are the words he attributes to others accurate, or does he mishear and misinterpret? Is he manipulated by those around him? Final commentary by all the principals reveals how each views the "story," and Bradley, through his/her own egocentric lens. So what it truth? Does anyone in the book know how to love? Is Bradley a fiend, a pawn, or a victim of his own lack of sensibility? You decide.
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Posted: Sep 22 2007
One of the best books by one of the best novelists of the 20th century. The story of the heinously bitter and unreliable Bradley Pearson is rich with complexity of character and situation. Between the bitterness and the self-justification, answers to the questions about "what really happened" become almost unknowable- the only "truth" in the book is emotional truth, which rings from every sentence. I want to reread the book now because once I understood what the main text really "was" I felt like I needed to go back and look at it all again in a completely different light
