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A review by piedwarbler
The Black Prince by Iris Murdoch
5.0
I read this book having read The Sea, The Sea during Lockdown, and it confirms my view that Murdoch is both a fiercely talented writer who has original ways of saying things you know are true, but in a totally unique style, and as mad as a box of frogs. And I love her for it.
Bradley Pearson is a 58 year old bloke looking for a woman. He appears to light on anyone female within the vicinity, with the exception of his ex-wife Christian, whom he propounds to hate. First Rachel, the wife of his rival, catches his eye, then it’s the turn of Rachel’s 20 year old daughter Julian.
I loved the twists and turns in this wildly nutty plot. Someone throws themself out of a moving car at one point which made me gasp in alarm and astonishment. Someone takes their own life which was suddenly very serious and tragic. Someone attempts murder. It’s just a whole bunch of ludicrous plot points which somehow hang together in a joyous examination of what art is, and some of the very best descriptions of how it feels to fall in love that I think I have ever read.
Bonkers, but also deeply thought provoking. There’s some lovely writing about love, and death: “The hand of death modelled him speedily, soon made his head a skull.”
The foreword by Sophie Hannah to the Vintage Classics edition was an additional source of joy for me.
Bradley Pearson is a 58 year old bloke looking for a woman. He appears to light on anyone female within the vicinity, with the exception of his ex-wife Christian, whom he propounds to hate. First Rachel, the wife of his rival, catches his eye, then it’s the turn of Rachel’s 20 year old daughter Julian.
I loved the twists and turns in this wildly nutty plot. Someone throws themself out of a moving car at one point which made me gasp in alarm and astonishment. Someone takes their own life which was suddenly very serious and tragic. Someone attempts murder. It’s just a whole bunch of ludicrous plot points which somehow hang together in a joyous examination of what art is, and some of the very best descriptions of how it feels to fall in love that I think I have ever read.
Bonkers, but also deeply thought provoking. There’s some lovely writing about love, and death: “The hand of death modelled him speedily, soon made his head a skull.”
The foreword by Sophie Hannah to the Vintage Classics edition was an additional source of joy for me.