Nonetheless she has lumbered her characters with some of the more choice (i.e. insoluble, fascinating, humiliating) problems her philosophical alter ego has been exploring lately. After an uncomfortable situation with an ex-girlfriend from London, Arrowby encounters his first love, Mary Hartley Fitch. The pair have not seen each other since their teenage years when Mary 'jilted' Arrowby after he left to go to a theatre school in London. Arrowby develops an unhealthy obsession with Mary; he romanticises their teenage relationship while demonising Mary's current husband. What follows is the essence of tragedy. Though you may read it as pure farce, as coincidence piles upon coincidence and everyone starts behaving in still more unbelievable ways. Arrowby doesn't fit in particularly well among the town people, but he prefers to live in his odd isolation anyway.

With nothing to do but "learning to be good", it is inevitable that Arrowby will create some drama even in this isolated spot; and this he does by attempting to draw his former lover Lizzie into his new life while trying to destroy the marriage of his childhood sweetheart, Hartley. Other visitors congregate at his new abode, shedding light on Arrowby's past and present: his Buddhist cousin, James (of whom he has always been profoundly jealous), and various theatrical ex-lovers and ex-friends. Their relationships reveal the shallows of Arrowby's self-knowledge – as well as his ability to manipulate.

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Occasionally he tries to refocus his thoughts, and we get a potted history of his early rather dull life with his mother and father, and his more glamorous and outgoing Aunt Estelle, Uncle Abel and cousin James, whom he says he detests, but clearly envies. He tells us about his theatrical life with charm, and describes his many relationships with women, professing to not understand his undeniable attraction and appeal for any female he meets, yet obviously making sure he leaves us in no doubt about it. Increasingly Charles has little grumbles about the privations of his self-imposed exile, reporting spooky goings on. He half imagines there is a poltergeist, as things keep mysteriously getting smashed. In the event this turns out to be a red herring. An old girlfriend had been indulging in a spot of mischief-making. He reassures both himself and the reader that this could be due to a solitary experiment with mind-altering drugs in his youth, thus rationalising the weird "supernatural" experiences that he has. There is an ambiguous attitude to the supernatural here. Sometimes it seems as though there can be no logical explanation for the events; yet at other times a delayed reaction to LSD seems more than likely. Several of the horrific and malevolent impressions Charles reports, are bound up with his feelings about the sea. He is terrified of a monster of a creature - a thirty-foot eel-like serpent which coils up out of the sea. But is this after all merely what used to be called a "bad trip"? The elements of mysticism in the book all come together and are given expression by James. Through having a position of command in the Army, he has spent a great deal of his live travelling through Tibet. He is a Buddhist, deeply involved yet rather secretive about the various ancient religious traditions he has experienced there. Towards the end of the novel, perhaps when he knows that it will cease to matter any more, he becomes much more open. Felt a little depressed but was cheered up by supper: spaghetti with a little butter and dried basil. (Basil is of course the king of herbs.) Then spring cabbage cooked slowly with dill. Boiled onions served with bran, herbs, soya oil and tomatoes, with one egg beaten in. With these, a slice or two of cold tinned corned beef. (Meat is really just an excuse for eating vegetables.)” Arrowby, who usually can get any woman he wants to do his bidding, finds he has a harder time here.

The journal is a useful device, telling us much of the history we need to know, and developing our ideas about Charles's character, as well as giving us an indication of his attitudes towards some of the other people who will enter the novel. It is also presented in a totally believable and authentic way. An amateur, unpractised writer, starting with a vague idea in retirement, may well start off with one idea, and go off at various tangents, being diverted by other ideas. However this early part of the novel does seem to be a little tedious and self-indulgent. It is rather too full of lengthy speeches and conversation; there are great long swathes of emoting from the characters, and it's all very angst-ridden. Nothing much seems to be happening, and a modern reader cannot help wishing this first part of the novel had been edited. Don’t marry! Maybe don’t cohabit. There are no happy couples in this book, and marriage is a dark and unknowable institution.I am not in a relationship with Lizzie," I declared. Rosina did not believe me and drove off angrily into the night. And in her headlights, I saw her. Hartley. I woke to find some letters. Hartley and Ben had emigrated to Australia; James had willed himself to death in a Tibetan trance; Perry and Rosina were going to Ireland and Gilbert and Lizzie were doing something else. I swam naked in the calm waters of the sea, the sea – the monster replaced by seals.