It’s true, it is, that Miette has bought something special to aid in her PodCASTing, though in the true ghetto style she so cherishes, she (or rather, I, Miette), didn’t do much to prevent the background sounds of discs spinning up, or dogs turning to dervish, or other random technospatter. Still, a special night deserves a special reading, and what could be more special than the only piece of short fiction we have from the haunting Ms. Murdoch, a piece which, as many have pointed out, could well be a lost chapter from Dubliners?
This story made me feel almost as sordid as the subject matter. I mean that in a good way, of course.
Iris has that effect on people. Amazing, that. Always those you -shouldn’t- sympathise with, or pity in the slightest, if only they didn’t reflect us at our own most pitiable. In a good way, of course!