As we gradually realise the scope of Durrell's literary experiment, in this, the third of the Alexandria novels, it becomes clear how no one human can ever truly know any other human, and it's heartbreaking. Durrell's prose is often too rich, veering into a purple so rich Caesar wouldn't wear it, but for every shot that misses, three hit their mark. Mountolive's drive through the storm is rivaled for beauty only by the dust-storm sequence in "Justine", and the final chapter is a slow, pulsing, vivid depiction of the last moments before death. I'll probably give myself a few weeks to cleanse the palate before reading the final volume in the series, but I'm a Durrell convert for life, I can tell. ( )

Volume III of “The Alexandria Quartet.” As I said in my review of the previous volume, “Durrell is preoccupied with what it means to love someone, how people change over time and, finally, how “truth” depends upon one’s perspective—which, of course, changes over time but and depends on one’s “position” as well.” This volume, written from the perspective of the Mountolive, a British diplomat, is chronologically and narratively (?) straightforward, which is a distinct change of pace from the first two volumes. As did the previous volume, it fills in gaps, answers questions, and creates new ones. All from a new perspective which, of course, has its own view of people and events. The volume aptly illustrates Durrell's point about the enormous power of one's vantage point and one's knowledge on one's actions I thought the writing in volume I (Justine) was almost uniformly excellent; in volume II (Balthazar) “occasionally as brilliant as in Justine, but less often so.” The writing here is more quotidian, undoubtedly on purpose—to a point. The question is to what point. I liked the book, just not as much as the previous two volumes. But, again, the work as a whole only seems more remarkable all the time. ( )

I am slowly making my way through Lawrence Durrell’s Alexandria Quartet, four books originally published 1957-1960. I still have to read Clea, but so far, Mountolive is my favorite. It is a more straightforward and linear narrative than the first two books, Justine and Balthazar.

David Mountolive is a British diplomat who gets promoted and moves back to Alexandria. The storyline covers his initial life in Egypt, and his relationship with the Hosnani family, particularly Leila and her grown sons, Nessim, and Narouz. It covers Mountolive’s rise in the administrative ranks and sheds light on the nefarious events that have earlier occurred, such that the reader understands why one of the characters was murdered.

After the first two installments, I have gotten used to Durrell’s elaborate writing style, and after initially not liking it all that much, I am now enjoying it. I think it helped that this third book in the series is written in third person. I do not think any of these books stands alone very well, so if you are planning to read this classic set, start with Justine. ( )

The conflict between duty and personal relationships. Mountolive does what the second book could not: freed from Darley's narration and shifted to a third person perspective, it casts the first book in a new light rather than merely adding to its layers. It has the power to stand on its own, although anyone skipping the first two novels would cost this one its ability to surprise. Even Balthazar, it seems, was often treading in the dark. At first it reads only like the next link in a chain as Mountolive's story builds on our introduction to Nessim's family. Then as Pursewarden, Nessim and Justine receive further illumination, it folds back in on itself.

At the same time as the puzzle box reveals its extra facets, however, in bringing clarity to vagueness it also brings the prosaic to the artful. Darley is largely dismissed behind his back, but for the reader to do the same would be to brush away the slick presentation that Durrell brought to his first novel and (to a lesser degree) the second. This third is more fun and easy to read, but it is also more conventional and lacks the same depth. I regret Durrell had the casual propensity of tossing the "N" word into the mix. It disturbed my easy enjoyment of what's otherwise the best entertainment value of the quartet so far, if not the most skillful. ( )

There's not much I can add to these review besides my own personal opinion. I enjoy Lawrence's work, language and ability to capture a moment. The first five chapters were artfully crafted but I found the core of the book to be laboured up until the point of the last three chapters, where it felt Lawrence had a renewed energy for the prose. The characters were all a bit dreamy and I understand that the setting probably overshadowed the diplomatic intrigue and characterisation, but for me there were but few gripping interactions between them. But having said that it is by no means a bad read or poor piece of work, but I had to find a compatible setting to compliment that of the book. ( )