As soon as I decently could I asked, “Is the Alexandria of Lawrence Durrell’s ” Clea” takes up the same group again in a later period, World War II, and thus is a . The magnificent final volume of one of the most widely acclaimed fictional masterpieces of the postwar era. Few books have been awaited as eagerly as. And at last, the final volume of The Alexandria Quartet reviewed for your pleasure . In Clea () we finally gain a true sequel to the story thus.

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He is quoted on seemingly every page. This particular novel to which my Xurrell review is tied–‘Clea’. In The New York TimesOrville Prescott noted that the novel “contained fine passages of lushly beautiful descriptive writing and one marvelously grotesque and horrible disaster”, and was “more passive, reflective and meandering” than its predecessors in the Quartet; Prescott also observed that the lengthy digression on the philosophy of literature, purportedly taken from Pursewarden’s notebooks, “makes astonishingly little sense”.

The water-silences captured and transformed everything laweence in movement, so that we were like the coloured projections of undines painted upon these brilliant screens of rock and weed, echoing and copying the water-rhythms. It seemed to me then to be somehow symbolic of the very reality we had surrell palimpsest upon which each of us had left his or her individual traces, layer by later.

The Alexandria Quartet: ‘Love is every sort of conspiracy’

His “A”-game prose is poetic in the best sense of that over-used word. I suspect that even these final doubts and throat-clearings are part of a fairly convenient final analysis. Except, of course, this being the Alexandria Quartet, there is another way of looking at things. If so, would I see evidence between the lines of the Quartet? It is a one-of-a-kind literary experience which amply deserves all the sensation and cleea which surrounded its original release.


It’s possible to take that idea at face value. Not in much detail or with any prurience or very believably eitherbut that is relatively unimportant. In this first book, the most romantic of the four, the ruminative act of questioning and appreciating existence is a suspenseful element. The magnificent final volume of one of the most widely acclaimed fictional masterpieces of the postwar era.

It is set about seven years later. Would this book be a confession? I enjoyed the first three slightly more than this one, but they stand alone as a whole. View all 6 comments. They are implicit in us and unfold according to the laws of their own nature. But it’s in Mountolive that things get truly confusing. I am thinking back to the time when for the four of us the known world vurrell existed; drurell became simply the spaces between dreams, spaces between the shifting floors of time, of acting, of living out the topical.

Books of The Times

Jul 20, Lori rated it it was amazing. Notably, his Guardian obituarist writing inat a time when Durrell’s reputation was possibly at its lowest ebb said “a harsh judgment” of his masterpiece might be that it was “a four-volume romantic novel written by a poet steeped in Freud and on nodding terms with Einstein”. Of course, the emotional thrust of the story revolves around Clea, someone that we’ve only met obliquely in the earl After an absence of 7 years or so we return to Alexandria during the last year of WWII with the reliable Darley as narrator.

Durrell indulges himself in all sorts of meditations covering art, the novel and creativity, set within the outstanding writing and the Freudian allusions. As a result, I think, his prose durrelll suffers from a deadly combination of pretension and inattention. It seems that Dhrrell actually intends to give us some resolution to this multi-faceted story, so we revisit the same cast of characters, some now dead, some forever altered.


What Durrell has given us is well alwrence having. I adore something about these books. Do you have any idea how difficult this might have been to accomplish? It makes for a nice set of parallel motifs: Mountolive ends with a terrifying scene where Mountolive gets drunk and wanders into the city, only to end up in a brothel filled with little girls.

What Durrell has given us is well worth having. Though I feel I am fighting what it is exactly.

His teeth, his terrible and ill-advised love with an actor, he went full cray with the ‘drunk, drugs, and brothels’ bit. In wanting her to be someone else, someone he could write a novel about, to counter the novel-within-the-novel Moeurshe willfully kept himself blind to what was really going on. Similar points had been made before but done better as they had previously served to further then narrative. He states that art is the product of the working of the imagination, and religion is the function of art being taken too literally.

My ‘love’ for her, Melissa’s ‘love’ for me, Nessim’s ‘love’ for her, her ‘love’ for Pursewarden — there should be a whole vocabulary of adjectives with which to qualify the noun — for no two contained the same properties; yet all contained the one indefinable quality, one common unknown in treachery.

Spoiler, Or, A Reckoning with Sentimental Habits By Way of Lawrence Durrell’s Alexandria Quartet

View all 5 comments. A few pages later, Durrell lawrencee his heroic friends in a space without time, where their existence and his comes to depend on memory:.

Clea is a meandering stream after the tidal flood of the previous volumes.