If you have been paying attention you may remember that this was one of the two books that I had not actually read but had put on my alphabetical list anyway. I pledged myself to read them both and this was the first one I got hold of. I remember many years ago having a go at an Iris Murdoch and not getting very far with it, but I was hoping I would stay the course this time. Alas I did not. I got about half way through and found myself struggling -- and as we all know, life is too short, and the TBR pile is too high, to finish a book when you are not really enjoying it. A pity really as I thought the beginning was very intriguing. It starts with Marian Taylor, a young and well-educated woman, arriving at a remote castle on a wild coast (which I took to be the west of Ireland, though it is never stated where exactly it is). She has been employed as a governess, or so she thinks, but it soon transpires that her pupil is in fact the beautiful young woman who owns the castle, whose husband is permanently away from home. The place is full of mysterious and rather disturbing people and there are clearly secrets that Marian begins slowly to uncover. So far so good, and I was really enjoying the first quarter or so of the novel -- the writing is very fine, with some wonderful descriptions of the location and some fascinating encounters that leave you longing to know what is bubbling under the surface. But as the work progressed, and more and more of the dark undercurrents come to light, I got less and less interested. For one thing there is a lot of deliberate allusion to medieval romances, and/or The Lady of Shalott, which I found a bit annoyingly obvious, I'm afraid. Also the secrets that are revealed seem rather crude and boring, or did so to me -- homosexuality, unrequited love and so on. Anyway, in the end I just got bored. Never mind -- at least I tried. Perhaps I will enjoy the Quiet American better.