The Sea, the Sea by Iris Murdoch

Winner of the prestigious Booker Prize—a tale of the strange obsessions that haunt a playwright as he composes his memoirs Charles Arrowby, leading light of England's theatrical set, retires from glittering London to an isolated home by the sea. He plans to write a memoir about his great love affair with Clement Makin, his mentor, both professionally and personally, and amuse himself with Lizzie, an actress he has strung along for many years. None of his plans work out, and his memoir evolves into a riveting chronicle of the strange events and unexpected visitors-some real, some spectral-that disrupt his world and shake his oversized ego to its very core. For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.

Whew. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through this one; though I loved the language, sometimes the plot felt pretty soap-operatic. By the end, however, I became fascinated with the central character, especially the ways in which I felt a kinship with him–which, given that he's pretty much a complete asshat, is kind of embarrassing to admit. In the end, I think I will very often think of this book when ruminating on desire and grasping, and how they affect my life.

I've had The Sea, The Sea on my radar for a looong time, years and years, mainly because the title stuck in my head and wouldn't budge. Somehow I ended up with a lot of preconceptions about this book but other than really beautiful descriptions of water, none of them were accurate. I think I was expecting something vaguely dreamy and ethereal, but The Sea, The Sea is grounded firmly in reality.

Murdoch does character studies wonderfully. She records almost every detail of the minutiae of life until it feels like we're following along in real time, but whilst in unskilled hands this would be a huge slog, Murdoch turns the mundane ins and outs of everyday living into something fascinating.

These are the notes I jotted down as I was reading:

egotist
misogynist
fantasist
bully
unreliable
weirdly focused on food
rose coloured glasses of first love
Hartley clearly has mental issues
justification of others' actions in his favour
obsessive
writing a memoir/autobiography
self declared Prospero
self absorbed
manipulative
ignorant of his own motivations

Despite all that, Murdoch managed to make me empathise with and feel sorry for this character by the end of the book. Her writing is addictive and I did not want to stop reading, though I found myself often questioning exactly why that was. I am head over heels, and really looking forward to reading more.