Isherwood often wrote about people who were trying to create a private life that gratified private concerns-not a desire for material wealth or social prominence, but a desire for friendship, love, and spiritual wholeness. Christopher Isherwood began where other writers ended: with an understanding of what was of genuine importance in the world. I thought he was great, but I could understand why others might think him a minor rather than major writer: he did not genuflect before the usual ideals and idols and writers are often judged-whether we admit it or not-by their ability to carry the standards of the tribe with imagination and vigor. Christopher Isherwood might register exasperation or disappointment, but he did not indulge contempt or hatred. There was something nearly documentary about his work. Christopher Isherwood, a twentieth-century British novelist, wrote about many of the things that concerned other people, other writers-war and wealth, love and sex, among them-but did so in a way that accepted and respected human nature. I read several of Christopher Isherwood’s novels many years ago and what I admired them for was a fundamental intelligence and integrity. Death, Despair, and Dreams: Tom Ford’s film interpretation of Christopher Isherwood’s book A Single Man Bright Colors, Questionable Impressionsīy Daniel Garrett Volume 15, Issue 2 / February 2011 11 minutes (2732 words)

A single man book review