As I read it, the spine on this old paperback copy soon disintegrated and the pages started falling out. I found myself picking off what was left of the glue until I simply had a pile of loose pages that could not be salvaged. I then recycled these as I went along – a messy and unappealing way to read.
This saga of a man who flits between two women isn’t one of my favourite Murdoch novels. Here’s one typically overwrought speech: “Your youth and your beauty are holy to me. I worship your innocence. Trust me and give it to me. It is the right time. And love me just a little in your heart without fear. I have no will to entangle you or to hold you. I will be kind to you and will set you free and even send you from me. How could I presume to speak about your mother if this were not so? I want you now and I need you now and this is something which your destiny and not mine has ordained. But I need your affection too. I have never begged for anyone’s affection before, but I beg for yours now. If you can give it to me as you love me the world will be made anew in which your manhood begins.”
People simply do not speak like this and I’m pretty sure they didn’t in 1974, either. Also, while her entangled human relationships always make for engaging material, her presentation of children is oddly unbelievable. But what the novel lacks in credibility, it more than makes up for in depth: her situations and moral dilemmas really make you think.
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