Tuesday 11 May 2021

Reading - Territorial Rights by Muriel Spark and Under the Net by Iris Murdoch

By chance, just after finishing reading a novel by Muriel Spark and one by Iris Murdoch, I came across a review of two of their novels by John Updike in the first issue of the New Yorker in 1975. 

As so often, Updike had interesting things to say.

First of all, I was heartened to see that my experience of Iris Murdoch's novels - that they leave no lasting impression, despite being well-imagined - was something Updike also experienced. He remarked that her characterisation and story telling is:

"so vivid & impressive ... endowed with all the substance her remarkable powers of imagination & introspection could fabricate" 

and yet his impressions of what he had read:

"do not last. Miss Murdoch is less Shakespeare than Prospero, holding us enchanted as long as we stay on her island, then the insubstantial pageant fades.”

I'm not certain that his identification of Murdoch's main theme is correct or more a reflection of his own obsessions:

"Her theme is "erotic love is never still.” In some of her novels the shifts of allegiance and attraction wrought by the inexhaustible, tempestuous force of erotic love approach the mechanical and unintentionally comic; a kind of square dance passingly links every character to every other. And, as in a mystery novel the murderer can be spotted because he is the least likely candidate, so the Murdochian hero or heroine can be counted upon to love, at last, and truly, the most repulsive figure of the opposite."

Updike's observations on the two novelists and their place in the literary order are perceptive, and I particularly like his observation about the legacy they contain from Shakespeare:

"They constitute a class by themselves—both so intelligent and fluent, so quizzical and knowing, both such resourceful mixes of feminine clairvoyance and masculine generalship, both such makers. Miss Murdoch, true, is copious and explanatory where Mrs. Spark is curt and oblique; she can hardly turn around in fewer than a hundred thousand words where the other can't bring herself to exceed novella length; she is wistfully theistic rather than flatly so, and concerned with goodness instead of with faith. The two of them together reappropriate for their generation Shakespeare's legacy of dark comedy, of deceptions and enchantmеntѕ, оf shuddering contrivances, of deep personal forces held trembling in a skein of sociable truces."

I like especially the understanding exhibited by the phrase "concerned with goodness instead of with faith"

Here are my more pedestrian comments on the particular novels I read by the two women:

Territorial Rights is set in Venice, and Muriel Spark moves her characters around that city as if they were chess pieces. They inhabit the usual Spark quasi-surreal atmosphere and coincidences abound. Everybody is absurd, no one is virtuous. A recurring Sparkian element, the possibility that reality is a novel written by an unseen hand, is once again hinted at. An easy read that I suspect is not quite as clever as Spark thought it was. 

Under the Net is an amusing, baffling book with some lyrical moments and quite a few laughs. It is narrated by a cheerful, fairly  aimless soul, and I suspect the meandering story is some sort of everyman parable of life's amiable meaninglessness. Or maybe it is just a meandering story. It is quite engaging and faintly intriguing while you are reading it, but it washes over you and is forgotten in a trice. Perhaps prophetically, it contains a piece of anti-Semitism uttered by a character called Lefty. 

The book is dedicated to Raymond Queneau, which probably provides a big clue to whatever was the author's intention.

6 comments:

  1. I read Under the Net over forty years ago, and have looked into within the last ten years. Bits stuck with me over the years: the philosopher Davey Gellman looking at his hands or his reflection while he writes an article on the incongruity of counterparts; the narrator's outrage when the pedestrian French novelist he translates turns out to win the Prix Goncourt. On the other hand, I haven't gone back for more Murdoch.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. One of the main characters, I think I remember, is devoted to fireworks precisely because of their evanescence, so perhaps she could argue the evaporation of any strong impression was her intention, mirroring the effect of a firework. I wonder if she was teasing Queneau in the Prix Goncourt strand of the book.

      Delete
    2. The character Hugo owns a fireworks company, having steered the family business away from armaments. I do recall that the narrator sees the Bastille Day fireworks in Paris, but don't otherwise remember them playing that big a role.

      Did Murdoch translate Queneau? I was interested to see that G.E.M. Anscombe acknowledged Murdoch among those who had offered suggestions on her translation of Wittgenstein's Philosophical Investigations.

      Delete
    3. I don't know but I just found this, which I like & is allegedly a quotation from Murdoch:
      "“I just enjoy translating, it's like opening one's mouth and hearing someone else's voice emerge."

      Delete
  2. I wonder if Murdoch's philosophy will have a longer afterlife than her fiction. The Sovereignty of Good is really very, er, good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There's a bit in this that is a quotation from Murdoch's youthful diaries that, ever since reading it, has made her a permanently absurd figure in my mind:
      https://zmkc.blogspot.com/2010/09/men-in-tights.html

      Delete