tI stumbled upon this book entirely by accident whilst looking at a random shelf in a used books bookshop. Although I was initially put off by its sheer length – my copy is 601 pages long, and Mrs. Mudorch often resorts to one-page paragraphs –, I decided to purchase it anyway, mainly because I enjoyed the idea of reading a novel whose main characters were mostly Oxford (ex-)undergraduates.tAs several reviewers have pointed out, the storyline is crossed by very few major events; most of the action takes place inwardly, with countless pages being devoted to characters’ inner monologues and musings on themes such as love, hatred, guilt and jealousy. Nevertheless, despite its relative plotlessness, The book and the brotherhood struck me as a rather absorbing work. It is hardly a page turner, and one is unlikely to find oneself rooting for any character in particular, but Mudorch’s easy-going, almost carefree prose is gentle enough to render the book pleasurable. It’s easy to let a couple of hours slip away while you thoughtlessly let yourself be taken into her lukewarm fictional universe, in which reflections on philosophical and sociological matters are often brought to the spotlight.tIt took me some time to be able to distinguish between the central characters. All of them are presented almost simultaneously in the first section of the book – the one describing the midsummer ball and its subsequent implications. Once you get started, make sure you don’t let yourself be discouraged from proceeding further into the novel, for Mudorch’s skilled literary hand soon brings to life a microcosm of clear-cut characters, each one markedly unique in terms of his/her personality, life goals, and even inflection. This is a book with seven or eight main characters, and they’ve actually been endowed with different fictional voices, which allows the narrative to flourish into some kind of lively diversity. Although all the characters in this book struggle with the same inventory of issues – marriage, professional/political ambitions, attaching a meaning to their own existence –, one doesn’t get easily worn out. Some sections could certainly be shorter, and the book itself needn’t have been so thick – there is a sense of roundaboutness here and there –, but, all things considered, this is a very mature, very rewarding literary accomplishment.tThe narrator’s omniscience doesn’t preclude certain characters from striking the reader as essentially, inexorably unlikeable. Take Violet, for instance, or even Crimond himself. Nonetheless, everything in this book is highly contextualized, including people’s bitterness and long-held resentment. This is a tale of trauma and repentance, of watershed events with far-reaching reverberations, and ultimately of self-discovery. Characters are constantly trying to ascertain who they are, and they do so by second-guessing themselves, by surrendering to the splendid intensity of emotional outbursts, by alternately concealing and disclosing their innermost fragility. The book and the brotherhood relies on but a few major turning points, but the richness of the human condition is masterfully explored.tThe same attributes which can make this novel appealing to the more introspective reader might bore the more restless one. As I’ve mentioned, Murdoch writes in a very serene way, and even her depiction of the most ‘extreme’ episodes seems to lack a certain ingredient of… passion. This dry quality can render the book a bit tiresome at times, and one might find oneself wishing that the author had produced a less technical work. Read The book and the brotherhood during a particularly laid-back week, or when you find that you’re in need of some cooling down. Be sure of what to expect here, and the experience is bound to be an immensely gratifying one.
[These notes were made in 1990:]. Another Murdochian phantasmagoria of character and philosophy. This one is about ... oh dear me, a dangerous way to start a sentence! The central characters in this novel (that's better) are linked by having been at one time a left-leaning group together at University. Several of them are pitching in to support one of their number while he writes a major book. Trouble is, not only have their philosophies diverged over the many years it has taken, but the author has proved himself to be personally loathsome to a number of them, particularly Duncan, whose wife Jean this author (Crimond) has seduced in the past and does so again in the course of the novel. Then there's Gerard, a man going through something of an internal crisis of his own, but still the strongest personality in the group, their generally acknowledged leader. His closest friend, in a tie which finds curious expression near the end of the novel is, as it were, the runt of the litter; the unattractive, rather solitary one, Jenkin. Gerard is the subject of an undemonstrative but powerful yearning from Rose, whose long-dead brother Sinclair, a golden boy, haunts in some way most of the older characters in this book. One gets the distinct impression that much of Gerard's genuine if rather dispassionate affection for Rose is based in a stronger feeling for Sinclair. There is a younger generation as well, the most developed of whom is Tamar, a sort of niece of Gerard's, who comforts Duncan after Jean's defection to Crimond, and subsequently has an abortion and a great deal of trauma. The climax of the plot is the near-fulfilment of a suicide pact between Jean and Crimond, and in the aftermath, someone does get killed - but it's Jenkin. It sounds like an awfully sensationalistic plot, but that's somehow cushiond by the equally awe-ful and intense self-awareness of all the characters. This is, after all, the kind of novel in which the characters can ask each other in the course of ordinary conversation how and why they believe in God. I loved this novel; I got all wrapped up in it. And when I can pull myself back far enough, I enjoy just watching how Murdoch uses the language.
Do You like book The Book And The Brotherhood (1989)?
Originally published on my blog here in June 2002.The title to this complex novel suggests that it will have a religious theme, like that of The Bell. There is something in this, but it is only indirectly - the narrative reads like it is about religious ideas, but they play only a small part in the story. The book of the title is a political one, which one character, Davide Crimond, has ostensibly been writing for many years. His writing is funded by a group of rich Oxford graduates, described by one of their number as "part of the brotherhood of Western intellectuals". Even though they no longer believe in the ideals that the book was meant to enshrine, the support continues until the year which is described in Murdoch's novel.What happens in this year, something which shakes up the relationships among the brotherhood and their friends, is that one of them leaves her husband for Crimond. It is the dislocation this causes among the group, their changing relationships, that Murdoch uses to tell us about what each of them is actually like in the first part of The Book and the Brotherhood. In fact, it could be said that all Murdoch's novels are about the way in which relationships evolve, which perhaps accounts for the way that they read as though they have a sea-like ebb and flow to them. Murdoch here also uses the book to create contrast; in between dramatic events come some distinctly intellectual arguments about the politics of the book, defusing tension. It establishes the believability of the characters extremely effectively, and makes it possible for Murdoch to demonstrate the differences between them.About two thirds of the way through, though, Murdoch springs a surprise. The arguments cease (the book has been completed), and events escalate towards the melodramatic. Because of the way that the first part of the novel has been structured, this section draws in the reader, already committed to the characters, far more easily than would otherwise be the case. It seems far more real because the people who do these things, who have these things done to them, are well established in the mind, as though they are our own friends who have become involved in something out of their depth.Then, after these hectic pages reach their climax, there is another change in pace. We get to see something of the way in which the dramatic events of the winter lead to changes in the characters themselves and their relationships. Again, the careful structure of the novel (with of course the symbolism of the new life of springtime) serves to heighten its effectiveness.Perhaps in the end The Book and the Brotherhood is not as gripping nor as thought provoking as Murdoch's very best work (The Bell, say). It is still an excellent novel by anyone's standards, well deserving of its Booker Prize shortlisting.
—Simon Mcleish
My new favorite author..Iris Murdoch came into my peripheral vision from my work with Alzheimer's patients. She and her husband collaborated on a book during her demise into dementia, which I reccommended to several caregiver families for insight. Then I became aware of her huge body of work.This book was on par with 'weird', but I needed to keep reading it. Insight into the workings of the brain through the porthole of philosophy (Murdoch's training) provides intrigue beyond the usual, and more depth than I bargained for in the beginning.
—Jan
This book moves so slow, and terribly dry.Ms. Murdoch just never does get to the point with this one.She fails at causing exitement for the reader even during the most "tragic" parts of the book, which are made to seem really no more tragic than crossing the street, sucessfuly.If you want to read extensive passages regarding the colour and fibre content of a character's bargain bought pullover sweater, while she trollops about the party, across one terrace to the next; all the while doing relatively nothing at all; then this just might be the book for you.As for me, I'd sooner read The Encyclopedia Britanica, backwards.
—Alek
