Peter J. ConradiRecensioni

I was very disappointed by this biography of one of my all-time favourite authors, Iris Murdoch.

At over 700 pages, written and published shortly after she died, one wonders whether the urge to quickly bring out a biography won from careful research.

In my opinion, the biographer writes too much about other people who were important in Murdoch's life, and too little about Iris Murdoch and her novels.

It is to be hoped that another biographer will attempt to write a more comprehensive biography of Iris Murdoch, with more attention for her life, her ideas and philosophy, and her novels, both how they came to be written and a descroption of all her works.

Really disappointing.½

I am going to do this review a little different to my usual ones. Instead of saying what I think about the style of writing I am going to look more at the content. The main reason for this is that its non-fiction and although I have read about Buddhism extensively I am no expert. I should also add that this is the second time I have read this, I'm not sure why I decided to pick it off the bookcase, it just jumped out at me.

I will start off by saying that I really dislike the fact that in the synopsis this is labelled as a self-help book. I have nothing against self-help books, I have read a few and they all have raised some good point with me. However, as far as my experience goes, slef help books are set out in a way that it tell you what steps to take. I always think these are set up like manuals for life because at the end of the day thats what they aim to be.

This book however is more about Conradi's thoughts on how Buddhism applies to western life along with some history of the Shambhala lineage. It also contains information about how to meditate and certain aspects of Buddhist life but at no point did I find it at all preachy. I also find the mention in the synopsis that he embarks on a 'new life journey' a bit misleading with regards the content. There is no denying that his decision and luck in deciding to enquire has had a huge effect on his life. However, it does not contain 'I was rich and unhappy, I found Buddha and now everything amazing' which is what I think it is pointing towards.

I really liked the book, it lays some facts down that are often mis-understood with regards to Buddhism and also explores some of the difference in the sects. This isn't a theoretical exercise but just covers a few main differences between the differing regions without imposing what is the correct approach.

Also mixed in along the way are stories about Iris Murdoch, an author and Buddhism who became his mentor along the way. The tales he tell about her and their discussions remind me a lot of the stories about Buddhist masters and their students even though she wasn't a 'master'. The relationship is an interesting one, there is obvious mutual respect but its clear that her speech is carefully measured and she challenges him along the way. In a lot of respects he does the same to her, sometime on purpose, other times by complete accident.

The only reason I haven't given the book 5/5 is that at times Conradi's approach is a bit wordy. I don't think that this is intentional, I just think that he has a better education and grasp of the psychology of the mind. At no point is it over the top and I would say 99% of it I understood without having to consult a dictionary to confirm the meaing of certain words. I would recommend this book as the 2nd to read for anyone interested in looking at a western approach to Buddhism. The 1st I would recommend is Buddhism Without Beliefs by Stephen Batchelor which is a fantastic introdution and a book I have read many times.

Enjoying this bio tremendously so far. Not just a bio but gives a fair critique of her work for those who don't know her a good introduction. Not quite finished but extracts of her writing & journals are really inspiring me. I also had no clue she was bisexual.

Truly inspirational.

17 Mar 2010

A collection of three different works: IM's diary of a roaming theatre production just before the outbreak of WWII, her letters to Frank Thompson and those to David Hicks, during the war.

The diary is very sweet - it's earnest and young but retains our interest and has a value that not all juvenalia have. For an IM fan, it's lovely to see her relatively unencumbered, enjoying singing and acting and stretching herself, and also being very funny and a good or not so good friend.

Both sets of letters can make uncomfortable reading at times. While she doesn't, in my opinion, look foolish, IM does lay her emotions bare in what were, presumably, private letters not intended for publication. Especially in those to David Hicks, she is reduced to begging him to write and sending honest thoughts which she then slightly regrets. But who among us, especially when young, hasn't said things to a lover one would rather not have said, or embarassed ourselves a little. The last letter in the Hicks sequence is quite painfully controlled and mature, and made me feel sad on reading it, even though I knew the story of their relationship from other reading. But still, in both sets of letters you get a developing writer, thrilled to come across Simone de Beauvoir and to meet Satre, trying to learn to ski, failing at being a good administrator. And, while I vigorously subscribed to the Death of the Author theory at University, to avoid having to do much secondary reading, I did enjoy seeing the roots of her civil servants and complex love affairs with which we become so familiar when reading her novels.

A minor point, but one which did affect my reading of the book: the footnotes. Some of the actual notes seemed a little strained. Who needs the word "somnambulist" explaning? And there were some [sic]s in the text which seemed a little inconsistent, pointing out some errors and not others. Worse, was the actual proof-reading of the footnotes. On several occasions, footnotes which should have run onto the next page broke off, with the rest of the note nowhere to be found. Particularly irritatingly, this happens to the note at the end of the Frank letters - the letter itself breaks off, as we know, and then the footnote reads: "Final page missing: how Frank signed off his last letter we will probably never"! And notes appear on the page next to the one on which the footnoted text appears, which I've never seen before. In fact, on the final page of the book, instructions for contacting the publisher end: "Please quote ref. 'Short Books", i.e. missing the final quotation mark! I know it's niggly, but this did spoil my reading of the text somewhat, as it disturbed the flow.

Apart from this, an interesting read and a valid addition to my Murdoch collection.

Oh my, it's hard to review this miscellany!

I am a very big Iris Murdoch fan - read all of her novels, and most of her philosophy - so I find the subject matter intrinsically interesting. That said, I found this book to be poorly edited, misleadingly titled, and often quite disappointing. And there's no index!

But I still "liked it."

First the diary: it's really just a two-week long journal from late August 1939, about Murdoch's experience with a semi-professional theatrical troupe when she was just twenty. Not terribly interesting, either.

Then there are separate "runs" of letters from Murdoch to two of her lovers and intimate friends during the Second World War, Frank Thompson and David Hicks. Instead of "integrating" the sequences, they are presented in different "chapters" of the book - even though Murdoch's relationship with them overlapped - as would happen often throughout her long and varied romantic life. It's a peculiar editorial choice, and I think it doesn't really serve the reader - or Murdoch - well.

Actually, many letters of Thompson _to_ Murdoch are reproduced in the book as well - perhaps a few more than letters of Murdoch _to_ Thompson. These are somewhat interesting in themselves - as Thompson was a soldier and a poet and a Communist and is regarded as a great hero in Bulgaria (where he assisted the anti-Nazi Resistance movement) - but they don't really contribute much to an understanding of Iris Murdoch.

The most interesting part of this book was the concluding "chapter," the section of letters to David Hicks, a fellow writer and intellectual with whom she battled verbally, but who became engaged to her for a short while in late 1945/early 1946. She and Hicks saw each other only briefly in the period in question, so the affair was indeed carried out mostly in letters - and letters overwhelmingly from Murdoch. The authorial voice of Murdoch begins to emerge in these contradictory, frustrating, discursive, emotional and revealing missives.

Like many people, I watched the film Iris and wanted to know more about this fascinating author. This is an amazing biography and I am sure it will be the definite account of Iris Murdoch's life for some time. Because she was an extremely complex character the book is necessarily complex and in places difficult to read. (not from any failing on the part of the author, but because my brain needed to work a little harder than normal!)

It explores her books, her philosophy and her life in amazing detail, though is a little light on her relationships with other women. I suspect this is because it is the most controversial area of her life and the author knew and loved her. As an aspiring writer myself I love reading biographies of writers and this is one of the best plus I was immediately pre-disposed to like Murdoch as she spent some time with the author in my area and loved it's beauty as I do.

After reading Conradi’s exquisite and thoroughly documented biography of Iris Murdoch, I thought I would have little to learn about one of my all time favorite novelists. But these insights -- directly from the pen of Murdoch herself -- reveal much more about her. Even with Conradi’s superb effort, these journals and letters reveal inside information about Iris’ life, loves, relationships, and early life. I hope this is the first in a long series from Conradi.

This volume from England -- not yet published in the US -- will appeal to devotees of Iris and should be must reading for all serious students of her work.

If you have never read Iris Murdoch, you are missing out on one of the great novelists of the 20th century. She wrote 26 novels as well as a handful of plays, poetry, criticism, and philosophy. Murdoch is truly one of the most outstanding women of letters in the history of British literature. She ranks with Pope and only a smidgen below Dr. Samuel Johnson in my estimation. Start with her Booker Prize winner The Sea, the Sea, or The Bell, or, as I did The Book and the Brotherhood. I am about half way through her novels, and this has inspired me to read A Severed Head next. 5 stars

--Jim, 5/16/10

Sometime in 1987, a review of Iris Murdoch’s latest novel, The Book and the Brotherhood, intrigued me. I started to read it, but could not get past the first fifty pages. This was even before the days of the “rule of 50.” A couple of months later, I was in the hospital for a few days, and I asked my then wife to bring me a couple of books from the table alongside my easy chair. She misheard me, and brought the wrong pile. The only one I had not read was the Murdoch. I decided to give it another try. I was awake all night, finishing it about 8:00 AM the next morning. Since then, I have loved her work, and I am making my way through all of her 26 published novels (about 16 to go!), although after this biography, I see that I missed so much in what I read, I think I will start over and go through all of them in order.

Her novels are complex in characters, plot, relationships, and philosophy, but they are worth every single second I spend with her. From this biography, I have learned many new vocabulary words, ideas, historical events, and philosophy. This incredibly detailed and documented biography of the great (-est?) 20th century British novelist does her justice – and then some. There are 60 pages of end notes, 10 pages of selected bibliography organized by chapter, Murdoch’s complete bibliography (5 pages), and an extremely detailed index that runs to 32 pages.

An example of the detail: at one point, Conradi mentions that when World War II broke out, Iris and some friends were evacuated from Oxford, and “Iris was painting a lot; many of her paintings of the time had ladders in them. One survives: a copy of Joyce’s Ulysses – the first UK edition came out in 1936 – lying by a blue pottery jar of coltsfoot” (112). He then endnotes this detail by quoting three letters Iris wrote mentioning the “coltsfoot” growing around the area. I can only presume this is some sort of plant – pity that wasn’t explained in a note! So, to my dictionary which explained this as, “Tussilara farfara, a plant with yellow, daisy-like flowers considered a weed, but used as a cough remedy. Named for the shape of its leaves.”

On another occasion, the author mentions a professor Iris admired, and then he describes photos of this professor’s mentors hanging in his office, their names, dates, what and where they taught (118). This was truly a labor of the utmost affection and respect. Conradi was a close friend of Iris and her husband John Bayley.

Much like Murdoch’s novels, there is a lot to learn here. I have learned so much about her personal life, I know I will have a better understanding of her novels. As I read (or re-read) each novel, I think I will copy the notes from the biography and keep them nearby.

Keep Latin, German, and French dictionaries handy, because not all phrases are translated. Some are explained, some evident from the context with even a smattering of these languages, but I had to puzzle out a least a third of these quotes (usually) from her letters and journals.

This might seem boring and dry, but it is anything but! Iris was a vivacious, funny, brilliant, clever, and popular woman at Oxford in the late 30s, during the war working for the British Treasury Department, at St. Anne’s in the 50s, and later the Royal College of Art. All this detail comes out in Conradi’s delightful prose. Maybe more that a reader could ever imagine about the life of Murdoch, but if you love her novels as much as I do, it is decidedly NOT too much.

I knew how it would end, since I read John Bayley’s Iris: an Elegy, but I could not help the emotional effect of her loss as I closed the book today. Five stars

--Chiron, 5/17/08

This is the definitive biography of my favourite author, Dame Iris Murdoch.

Iris Murdoch, who died in 1999, was the author of 26 novels, including The Bell, A Fairly Honourable Defeat, The Black Prince, and the Booker Prize-winning The Sea, The Sea. In The Saint and the Artist, now fully revised and updated, distinguished literary critic Peter J. Conradi offers a lively and valuable critical appreciation of her works of fiction. He traces the way in which the zest and buoyant high spirits of her early novels gave way to a more deeply and darkly comic achievement in the novels of the 1970s. Conradi, who knew Murdoch well, suggests how her own life, transmuted into high art, provided the raw material for her novels; he also argues that they should be read as serious entertainments and as important fictions in the Anglo-Russian tradition, and not as disguised philosophy. Peter J. Conradi is the author of the highly acclaimed biography Iris Murdoch: A Life.

John Bayley

Peter Conradi's book is by far the best introduction to Iris Murdoch's work that has yet appeared,and as a critical study it will never be superceded.

It is tempting to read Iris Murdoch's novels in terms of her philosophical writings, but such an approach, Conradi argues, fails to grasp the richness of her mature fiction. He demonstrates how her concern with moral psychology and the complexity of humans is better explored in her novels than in her writing on existentialism. When first published in 1986 as Iris Murdoch: The Saint and the Artist (Macmillan), Conradi's was the first book-length study of Murdoch's fiction.