Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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13 of 16 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
What did A.N.Wilson reckon he was doing here?, 29 Jan 2005
In the closing pages of this book, A.N.Wilson writes: "Her novels, more than any other, inspired me to want to be a novelist"; and then: "Millions of individuals throughout the world are in her debt. They see her as a compellingly readable novelist who describes better than any other the strange things which happen when people fall in love [...]" My personal late-adolescent discovery of Iris Murdoch [I compulsively went on to read all her novels, many of them more than once], corresponds very closely to that of A.N.Wilson. Her evocations of falling in love are surely unequalled. And at first sight it consequently would seem totally laudable that A.N.Wilson should suggest that we return to the novels for our understanding of Iris Murdoch's ideas, and leave behind the Alzheimer's victim represented in Richard Eyre's film and her widower John Bayley's idiosyncratic written evocations of her final years.
Then why did A.N.Wilson have to produce this clumsy, often - by his standards - badly written, badly constructed and repetitive book, in which he constantly makes contradictory assertions about both Iris Murdoch and her husband? The headline of the Observer review of the hardback edition, "Tittle-tattle trader" was in my mind all the time as I persevered with it. Having enjoyed Wilson's cleverly plotted comic novels of the early 1980s, with their clear indebtedness to Iris Murdoch [the first one, "The Sweets of Pimlico" is even dedicated to both her and Bayley], I had at least expected him to state his case cogently and persuasively. But for pages at a time Iris Murdoch herself actually completely disappears from sight, and instead we get largely pointless cameos of various Oxford eccentrics, irrelevant and confusing references to the history of philosophy, and, worst of all, self-pitying references to the tormented moments of Wilson's own private life. Not to mention the mean references to the squalor in which Murdoch and Bayley - apparently of their own free will, it should be pointed out - opted to live, and to their physical appearance.
It is perfectly possible to write a sensitive and understanding biography of someone with a highly unconventional private life: Victoria Glendinning did it memorably in the case of Vita Sackville-West. Whereas Wilson, returning time and again to this aspect, simply cannot help being insensitive, prurient, judgmental and mean. That would appear to be his nature: all spite and no compassion.
It is inevitably difficult to separate admiration from envy, and envy from jealousy. Clearly not having managed to do this in the case of Iris Murdoch, A.N.Wilson would have been well advised to leave this book unwritten, instead of just badly written. Those wanting to discover or rediscover Iris Murdoch, warts and all, should turn [back] to the fiction. And if they really want the biographical background, there is the official biography by Peter Conradi, occasionally stodgy, but at least coherent, and at all times loyal to its subject. And not bother with this peculiar mish-mash which is neither one thing nor the other.
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9 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
compelling biography, 3 May 2005
By A Customer
A short while ago I finished a turgid biography of Oscar Wilde. At the end I knew a few more facts but very little about the real person. This book is completely different. Right from the start I found it highly engaging and a very compelling read. It has very little of the tedious account of details that tends to plague biographies, and yet presents a full and wonderful picture of Iris Murdoch.Much of the book is about A N Wilson himself, but that does not detract from it. It serves to give an insight into two lives rather than one. He is an avowed admirer and devotee of Iris Murdoch's works, but still retains sufficient distance to provide a critical evaluation both of the books and the author. Perhaps what is most attractive is that he does not contain his passion, and it is the consequent revelations that make this book so enjoyable. A N Wilson has provided a very different style of biography, but a very special one. When I had finished with it, I felt that I had walked with Iris Murdoch for a while. To my mind that makes a great biography.
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11 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
yes, but isn't it just a little bit interesting????, 11 Mar 2004
I agree with other reviewers who found this book horrible in a number of ways. Firstly, there are several parts where even ill-educated little ole me can see that the English language has been hurried into publication without sufficient checking. It's just a bit personal and unstylish in places, which I didn't expect from AN wilson, who I think we'd all concede has written some good books, especially his biography of Tolstoy.
However I don't think this book is without interest. To begin with I think we have at least to consider Wilson's position that John Bayley's 'invasion' of Murdoch's privacy, by writing about her last illness, is worth debating. Whether or not you hate/love/etc John Bayley's books, Iris Murdoch was an intensely private person, and I think that's worth being reminded of.
In addition, AN Wilson manages to create a version of himself in this book (which is MUCH more about him, really, than about Murdoch or Bayley) who is almost some terrible creation of Nabokov. He follows the Murdoch-Bayleys around like John Shade in Pale Fire, constantly putting his own interpretation on things but managing inadvertently to leave us with a much fuller impression than he means to, of what a pest he's being. I really enjoyed reading this book because I enjoyed disliking the detestable part AN Wilson has given himself and wondering about what had 'really' happened!
And frankly, once you've begun reading gossipy books about Iris Murdoch, you might as well finish the job...
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