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Bradley Pearson, an unsuccessful novelist in his late fifties, has finally left his dull office job as an Inspector of Taxes. Bradley hopes to retire to the country, but predatory friends and relations dash his hopes of a peaceful retirement. He is tormented by his melancholic sister, who has decided to come live with him; his ex-wife, who has infuriating hopes of redeeming the past; her delinquent brother, who wants money and emotional confrontations; and Bradley's friend and rival, Arnold Baffin, a younger, deplorably more successful author of commercial fiction. The ever-mounting action includes marital cross-purposes, seduction, suicide, abduction, romantic idylls, murder, and due process of law. Bradley tries to escape from it all but fails, leading to a violent climax and a coda that casts shifting perspectives on all that has preceded.… (more)
User reviews
1. The book is largely written in the first person by an envious, pretentious loner of a failed highbrow novelist.
2. The narrator's prose is often
3. The book's theme is a middle-aged man's falling for his best friend's daughter. It is, thus, a reworking of certain elements of "Lolita," but without the pedophilia (the girl is an older teenager, not a nymphet).
4. The construction is, in part, that of an unreliable narrator.
One could go on. I won't. I'll just end by stating my opinion: this book is a complete success, and certainly one of the author's best efforts. Highly recommended.
Now, where can I get some postcards of the Post Office Tower...?
In The Black Prince, the narrator Bradley Pearson, is living a quiet, uneventful life on his own long after a bitter divorce. One day, in a very funny farcical scene, just about everyone Bradley knows arrives at his flat either wanting to leave their current spouse or wanting to renew their relationship with Bradley. His sister has left her husband, his ex-wife is back in town and her brother has come to warn him, his long time friends Arnold and Rachel are fighting and each wants him on their side while their daughter Julian desperately wants his advice because she wants to be serious writer like Bradley, not a hack novelist like her father. Bradley wants them all to go away and basically tells them so in so many words.
There are several major twists in the novel; in the first Bradley, age 58, suddenly and completely falls in love with Julian, the teenage daughter of his friends Arnold and Rachel. He has just endured a failed attempt at an affair with Rachel after years with no serious interest in women, so this sudden attraction to Julian is a surprise. When it happens he simply falls face down on his hall carpet and stays there for several hours, unable to move. This is where an Iris Murdoch novel becomes extreme and where, in my opinion, her writing is bravest. She does not shy away from such inappropriate attractions, nor does she move her plots towards comfortable resolutions. She is interested in finding out just what would happen in such cases if the characters involved really went all out and made every attempt to get the love they want. Bradley abandons his sister who needs him, the friends who want his attention, and runs off with Julian. What follows is both very comic and tragic. Love has it's price, is a recurring message in Iris Murdoch, but it can also be worth the price it exacts.
What makes The Black Prince even more interesting than the typical Iris Murdoch book is that its narrator, Bradley Pearson, is wholly unreliable. He is a very funny curmudgeon in the first third of the book, but the reader tends to believe his opinions about the other characters and to sympathize with him. Once he falls in love with Julian, it became clear to me that I could not trust anything Bradley was saying about any of the characters actions and even about his own motives. The comic tone of the book's first part remains, though Bradley is less and less aware of it as the novel continues.
On the last page of the novel there is jaw-dropping plot twist that I will not reveal it here, but it is satisfying enough to make some of the books tougher sections worth reading, and it does fulfil the promise of the back cover which promised and ending that would "cast a shifting perspective on all that has gone before." The book closes with postscripts written by each of the surviving characters and the editor who may or may not be Bradley Pearson. Together these each call into question most of what Bradley has told us and much of what we have come to suspect about him.
Sections of The Black Prince are a bit of a slog to get through. Bradley is a fun narrator, but one of his problems is that he is in love with his own voice. He is trying to prove his innocence by writing the novel and Ms. Murdoch gives him free reign. This makes for a long read, but the ending is completely worth the effort. I'm giving The Black Prince by Iris Murdoch four out of five stars. If you only read one Iris Murdoch book in your life, read The Sea, The Sea, but if you read two, consider giving The Black Prince a try.
Bradley Pearson, British writer, is suffering from a writer's block. He has waited all his life to write his masterpiece. Finally, he feels, the time has come when he can leave his small time job as a revenue officer, and go away from the city din to write. However, his fellow writer friend, Arnold Baffin, Arnold's wife Rachel, daughter Julian, Pearson's ex-wife Christian, ex-brother-in-law Francis and sister Priscilla all tug at his attentions in various ways to make Pearson's escape impossible. Each character has his own version of the series of incidents in the novel. Murdoch ingeniously builds the complications of these incidents or accidents into a delightfully painful and humorous story of erotic abandon. The mind remarkably colors the incidents of the novel to project a story that fits each character best. Julian comfortably forgets the intricate details of an embarrassing romance, Rachel feels that Bradley is madly in love with her while Arnold believes that Bradley is jealous of his success.
This is one of her very best, about mad love, and it justly won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize.
but towards the end, the first hand wins.
Murdoch cuts down the massive layers of the text(that recalls the
The psychlogic motives of the characters are moving towards the extreme cynic farce,where everyone is mainly concern on it's own ego and perspective.
not totaly new with it's ideas,but great with structure and Murdoch delievers well the irony and paradox of human behaviour. recommended.
I read a few
I will tell you that the book improved dramatically halfway through, and continued to get better and better as it bounced along toward the ending. And then I will tell you that the ending really did redeem the whole book, made it very retroactively interesting in terms of what a writer is, what fiction is, what "truth" is, what a reliable narrator is and isn't, and other complex questions.
The book is very smart, and it does at the end pull back its scalp and reveal there is a large and whizzing brain inside, which has been there all along, under that peeling, sparse scalp. The problem here is, friends, that you have to read a whole lot about the ugly and small agendas of a lot of people you'd rather not get to know, in order to understand the point that's being made about art. As to the apparently thrilling (to critics) question about whether or not the narrator is a homosexual in denial, I don't think that's really interesting or relevant. I'd rather hear more people discussing whatever the heck happened to him at the end, and who P.L. was. All that seemed much more mysterious than the gayness. But then, discussions of whether people are gay or not don't tend to fascinate me (take note, friends, this extends to Herman M.).
The Black Prince is a book I enjoyed having read, but not a book I enjoyed reading. It is an experimental book, all the more so because it appears to be a very traditional book. Things are not always as they seem -- take heart if you are toiling through this novel by choice or on order from an educator -- there will be a payoff, and it will all end eventually.
That being said, let me say that I enjoyed this book and thought it was a great work. The reference book for 1001 calls it a literary thriller and I think that is accurate. It is a book of “what is the truth”. Yes, all
Other characters:
Arnold Baffin, a successful author, somewhat younger man. Arnold Baffin is untrustworthy, too.
Rachel Baffin, wife of Arnold, depicted as plump woman who is in the shadow of her successful husband who also is abusive and cheats on her. The only feminine female.
Christian, Bradley’s exwife (masculine name)
Francis, brother to Christian, gay, a doctor who has lost his license (feminine name)
Julian: only daughter of the Baffin’s (masculine name)
It is really a question throughout the book of where the title of the book comes from. The story is built around Shakespeare’s Hamlet, yet the black prince is not in that play. There is a murder, but then there is the question of who really is the killer. We have what the author (Bradley) tells us and then we have points of views by Christian, Rachel, Francis and Julian. I found it fun to try to form my own idea from what we are given. I believe that in general, Bradley has told the story close to the truth. I think Christian is way off the mark, I think Rachel is calculating in her response, I think Francis is the next who is closest to the truth and I think in what Julian has to say, you can surmise that there was something between Bradley and Julian from the fact that she repeats much of what Bradley has said and she never really says anything because she has learned that art is secret. It is very interesting that even though these people make Bradley into a unlikeable, awkward, unsuccessful man, they all claim that he loved them.
The novel is also unique for its structure. The central story is bookended by forewords and post-scripts by characters within the story. I think the differences in the various post scripts does represent a fact that reality varies from person to person. I think I liked this part the most but without the main story, it would not have worked. The themes of homosexuality along with Freud and phallic symbols and philosophy of truth, art are all a part of this story with a twist. I liked it, but it isn’t an easy or fast read but well worth it unless you have to have likable characters.
The narrator, Bradley Pearson, talks the reader through this book at intervals as if commenting on his own biography, although at the end Murdoch discombobulates us and leaves us to our own devices in terms of whether to believe him or not.
As Bradley
This was my second Iris Murdoch novel, and I enjoyed it even more than The Sea, The Sea. Clever, funny and engaging - what's not to love about this book.
4.5 stars - wonderfully darkly comedic, with a cast of terrific characters.
I went out slowly and closed both doors and began turning lights on. The apparition of Francis was still sitting on the stairs. He smiled an isolated irrelevant smile, as if he were a stray minor spirit belonging to some other epoch, and some other story, a sort of lost and masterless Puck, smiling a meditative cringing unprompted affectionate smile.
The plainness of the first sentence with its twinned ands. The hissing, stuttering second sentence: sh, s-s, st, st, st. Then that incredible unwinding, that thought circling buzzardlike around its prey, the assonance of lost and masterless and that dive-bombing adjective pile-up as we zoom in on Francis's smile, smile, smiling, smile. Those absurd smiles!
So of course I inhaled The Black Prince like I have the other six or seven Murdochs I've read. Of those, this felt closest to The Sea, the Sea, with the crucial difference that there's never any real doubt as to the insanity or possibly even non-existence of its central character. For all its flair it's wholly heartless and academic, its Hamlet leitmotif ultimately thudding and wearisome. Maybe I've come to expect too much of Iris?
I've read two books by Murdoch now and enjoyed neither. This might be the last one.
The reader will need to pay close attention to the details of the story in order to figure out what to believe. Bradley admits that he lies to the other main players. He makes excuses. He does not accept responsibility for his actions. He often behaves atrociously. He seems deluded in many ways. He says he has learned something through his ordeal, and we want to believe him. But he also seems reprehensible and hypocritical in his actions.
We spend lots of time in Bradley’s thoughts, and these thoughts meander into ponderous inner dialogues about life, love, art, marriage, morality, self-deception, jealousy, and suffering. The characters are well developed. It contains elements of both comedy and tragedy.
The story is written in such a way that spurs the reader’s curiosity. I came up with a satisfactory interpretation and I think part of the fun of reading this novel is analyzing it at the end. Published in 1973, this is the second novel I have read by Iris Murdoch. I very much enjoy her writing style and plan to read more of her works.
Memorable passages:
“People who model their experiences on works that they admire are all too likely to be egocentric lovers, seeking to cast the beloved into a scenario dreamed up inside their own fantasy.”
“We are always representing people to ourselves in self-serving ways…that gratify our egos and serve our own ends. To see truly is not the entirety of virtue, but it is a very crucial part.”
“If one is prepared to publish a work one must let it speak for itself.”
“She [Julian] had filled me with a previously unimaginable power which I knew that I would and could use in my art. The deep causes of the universe, the stars, the distant galaxies, the ultimate particles of matter, had fashioned these two things, my love and my art, as aspects of what was ultimately one and the same. They were, I knew, from the same source. It was under the same orders and recognizing the same authority that I now stood, a man renewed.”
“Art is not cosy and it is not mocked. Art tells the only truth that ultimately matters. It is the light by which human things can be mended. And after art there is, let me assure you all, nothing.”