By Iris Murdoch
"A exceptional entertainment." (Harold Bloom, the hot York occasions booklet assessment) Edward Baltram is crushed with guilt. His nasty little prank has long gone horribly improper: He has fed his closest buddy a sandwich laced with a hallucinogenic drug and the younger guy has fallen out of a window to his loss of life. Edward searches for redemption via a reunion along with his recognized father, the reclusive painter Jesse Baltram. humorous and compelling, the great Apprentice is instantly a supremely subtle leisure and an inquiry into the non secular crises that afflict the trendy international.
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Extra info for The Good Apprentice (Classic, 20th-Century, Penguin)
The room, Midge’s taste, for Thomas was unconscious of his surroundings, was brilliant with flowers, upon the curtains, upon the wallpaper, upon the oriental carpet, even in plaster wreaths upon the ceiling, as well as serenely and more ephemerally present in jugs and vases. Yet each flower knew its place, and the tall stiff brigades of yellow-eyed narcissi, whose perfume filled the room, did not put the discreet little wallpaper roses in any way out of countenance. Upon the walls here and there, stemming the floral tide, were airy views of Berkshire by Midge’s (and Chloe’s) deceased father, Cleve Warriston, a minor painter and follower of Paul Nash.
He wandered around Soho and looked into the windows of sex shops and at the photos outside strip joints. But he had not the nerve or particularity of will required to enter any of these establishments. He brooded over the cover pictures of terrible little magazines which had been soiled by eager hands, then slouched guiltily on, afraid of being visible. He wandered a good deal in London, vaguely hoping he might be run over. He stood in underground stations and watched the merciful tube trains thunder in.
Harry was by now so used to feeling that Edward did not hear what he said that he spoke as if the boy were absent. The door bell rang. ‘Midge will go,’ said Thomas in his high fastidious Edinburgh voice. A woman’s tones were heard. ‘That’s Ursula. ’ Stuart Cuno, four years older than Edward, had lately startled his family and friends by refusing to continue his education. Established as a graduate student with distinguished honours in mathematics, offered a coveted teaching post at a London college, he had announced that he was leaving the academic world in order to do ‘social work’.