Doris Lessing repeats herself so often in her latest novel that her words are like waves washing over us, over and over again, each differing only slightly from the last.

The main thrust of her theme is fascinating - confusing, too. Through the lips of an old Roman senator, she recounts the history of the Clefts, an ancient community of women living in a coastal wilderness, who reproduce without men.

So far so good, as these women appear resourceful and able to cope with their lot. They are the kind of women one would expect this remarkable novelist to describe. Then things change when they confront the monsters - the babies they allowed the eagles to spirit away when they discovered they had been born with a strange pipe and peculiar lumps between their legs.

These monsters were saved by the eagles and grew into men, though some had painful and misshapen parts which were torn and twisted when the women tried to remove them at birth. Others, perfectly formed, stared at the women with a strange longing in their eyes. It was a look that the women did not understand at first. Nevertheless, they learned how to satisfy the monsters' needs.

All the while, the old Clefts lay like sea slugs on the sea shore, waiting for the young women to feed them and attend their needs.

By addressing the peculiarities of gender, Doris Lessing places us on this sea shore and allows the waves of repetition to wash over us. Women who expect more from this mature author will probably put this book down half way through and let the waves carry it away.