The Magus: A Novel

It's been about a year since I read this book. It was recommended to me by a stranger - a woman I saw once and never again. How I came across the book, which was strange in and of itself, seems in retrospect fitting. I don't know why I picked it up as quickly as I did, why I even took this woman on her word, but I'm eternally grateful to her for exposing me to this when she did. It has influenced profoundly both my writing and the way I view the world, with magnitude on par two other world-redefining books: On the Road, and Catcher in the Rye. But those are two other books- As Fowles has suggested, you will get more out of this book if you read it at 20 or 25 as opposed to 40 or 45 - not to say people in their 40s can't enjoy it, merely that the 'quarter-life crisis' as it's come to be called is a thing of relativity. If you can relate, all the better, if you're only looking for "A fireworks exhibition of fantasy...sexual love and moral awareness" as the front of the book embarrassingly describes, that's what you're going to get. I don't think a marginally intelligent person can be disappointed with this book - however, there are various levels of satisfaction, and certain people will find this book simply earthshaking. Despite being over-simplistically billed as an "erotic thriller," this book is much much more. It is first a novel of self-discovery, one in which a truly alienated protagonist searching for meaning in the tea leaves takes us along. It is then a novel of love, illustrating the dynamic between love and lust by using characters that are so believable you expect them to knock on your door. It is also billed as a surrealist sojourn - which indeed it as. So much bordering on the bizarre, much plain insanity is readily apparent as you read between the lines of life. Lastly, there is an element of eroticism, oodles of sex, and a fine dosage of unrequited feelings - as there is in life. Do not be misled by the back of the book - if you're like me, the description is off-putting, making the book sound like a campy Danielle Steele novel or some such trash. It's quite the opposite, quite wonderful, and without a doubt, a little treasure of a book that has slowly made its place near the top of my bookshelf.

The Magus took John Fowles more than two decades to complete. It was the first viable novel he began writing, but was published for the first time in 1966, and then in a revised version in 1977. The latter edition, which is by far the easiest to find these days, was the one I read. As Fowles explains in the preface, some of the details of the story are taken from his own life: for instance, like his protagonist, Nicholas Urfe, Fowles spent some time teaching at a school on a remote Greek island. From such material, Fowles weaves a fantastic story that owes a heavy debt to Shakespeare's final play, The Tempest. The Prospero character, in this instance, is Maurice Conchis, an elderly multi-millionaire who own a house on a section of the island known as Bourani. Nicholas finds himself drawn to Conchis's character, and in the hours they spend together he learns more and more about his host's past, which includes an uncertain relationship with the Nazis. Further characters are introduced, most notably a pair of beautiful twin Englishwomen and a black man, Joe. The story proceeds as a series of disjointed acts in which Nicholas, blessed (or cursed) with a critical mind, undermines and sidesteps the stories of the people he encounters. He increasingly suspects that he is taking part in some kind of masque or drama in which the others are all actors. It is through this device that Fowles causes the story to twist and turn, with new characters abruptly appearing (the German soldiers, for instance) or being dramatically recast (Joe, the twin girls) as Nicholas grapples with the line between fiction and reality. Nicholas's story is framed, in turn, by his affair with an Australian girl, Alison Kelly, whose directness and solidity are repeatedly placed in juxtaposition with the mind-games of the island drama. The story itself hums along nicely enough, but there are points in the middle of the book, especially when Nicholas is drawn into permutation after permutation of different but similar mind games, that it starts to drag a little. Let me be clear: I think Fowles is the greatest English writer of his generation. His genius lies in his incisiveness, both in terms of his storytelling ability and his utter lack of moral prudery. Nonetheless, I found fault with The Magus mostly for the character of Nicholas, whose part in the game I thought became too predictable; truly turning the tables on Conchis and his actors would have been an interesting move that Fowles does not exploit. I also felt as though the flaws Nicholas judges so harshly in his character at the end of the book were merely the markings of inexperience rather than anything fundamentally bad about him. Toward the end, the novel comes dangerously close at certain moments at being morally judgmental in this respect. Still, despite these minor flaws, The Magus is an astounding piece of fiction. Fowles clearly wrote it in a spirit of ambition that would have defeated many a lesser writer. The Magus is thus an important novel that, while it does not measure up to the true greatness of, say, The French Lieutenant's Woman , is still an enjoyable and worthwhile book to read.

Although I finished The Magus only yesterday, I wanted to jump in and tell anyone considering it just how wonderful it is. As some people have said, it is often complex and labyrinthian, but I found every page riveting. You will not put it down lightly, or long. And another, still more subversive twist appears in Fowles' introduction to the new edition. He mentions almost in passing that, if the action were not set on the island, the novel would have been comic. And I got this impression of an allegory unlike the others often mentioned of Man v. Nature, God, or Society, and so on. This one is of Man v. Grad School. Not to reduce this brilliant novel, but the comic structure is visible like a palimpsest if you first imagine Nick as a Ph.D. candidate. Conchis becomes his maddening and cagey dissertation advisor. Lily is the flirty undergrad in Nick's poetry class, toying with him for an "A" during office hours, but remaining true to her frat boy--Joe. Maria is the dour but devoted department secretary who never knows where the chairman, Conchis, is hiding. Phraxos is the enchanting world of the mind found in high academia; Bourani is the department; the Nazis are the other faculty; and the S&M trial is Nick's dissertation defense. Kemp and Jojo are Mum and sis back home in the damp grey depression of home. Allison his exasperated live-in girlfriend, and Mrs. Seitas is his advisor's sophisticated wife, who's seen other bitter grad students show up, wanting to thrash her rotter of a husband, (Conchis), and who advises him to let it go and go to Law School. All of which would be a comic novel akin to a terrific earlier novel, Lucky Jim, if not for the transformations that turned it into the incomparable Magus. It works on many levels, of course, all engaging. I loved it first to last, and recommend it highly to anyone who enjoys intelligence and mystery on every page. Radical Doubt

This book does have significant intrigue, and so if you haven’t read it yet, you don’t want to read my review now. But after you’ve read it, please get back to my review and let me know your thoughts. I love the horror genre in both literature and film. I typically like ambience and atmosphere much more than plot. This book is loaded with very strange, weird ambience. I read this while I was alone at a cabin for two weeks, and it literally scared me on occasion. It’s maybe not on the Lovecraft level, but it’s weird enough that it affected my mood even when I was not reading. I had no idea where the story was going, but it had an atmosphere of dread, danger and mystery that I really enjoyed. Unfortunately, when I finished the book, I closed it and looked at it. I felt really disappointed. I was expecting some kind of fantastic ending that really tied everything together and explained all the mystery. But this book seems almost amateurish in that it presents a of variety of occult themes, but there’s ultimately no cohesiveness or coherence at all. Fowles has just thrown in a bunch of random intrigues. What in the world was the motivation for Conchis and his group of followers to impose this experience on Nicholas? They went to great lengths and expense to freak him out, and they succeeded, but what did they get out of the deal? What did Nicolas do to deserve such bizarre treatment? He broke up with his girlfriend who seemed to have a number of her own issues, and he fell in love with Julie, understandably, because she was so captivating. I have no idea what this young man did that was so bad to deserve this torture. What benefit accrued to the members of the Godgame? What principle was advanced? This isn't some nuanced criticism or a a series of academic rhetorical questions. The book simply made no sense. What was the point in reenacting the German invasion for Nicholas that one night? What was the meaning of all the strange, lengthy, and apparently untrue, stories that Conchis told Nicholas? What was the deal with Julie having sex on the stage with a black guy at the end to taunt poor Nicolas? Weird and nonsensical. I can’t figure out anything that event might symbolize or answer. Alison seemed like a troubled young woman, I can understand fully Nicholas’s ambivalence about her. He ended up being truthful with her about his captivation with Julie, and so I don’t think he committed any crime against her. She went apoplectic, and at that point I think it was time for him to move on. And that was before Conchis, et al., concocted her suicide, which most people would find unforgivable. His relationship with Julie was new enough that I don’t think he yet had an obligation to reveal to her his short trip with Alison. Good grief, didn’t the young man deserve some time to sort out his thoughts and feelings?? Not only was the Godgame trickery unmotivated by any rational theory, they also committed highly serious crimes. Abducting somebody against their will and moving them to another location is called kidnapping. Anyone involved in that will spend many years in prison, at least in the state of California. I don’t see anything admirable, enlightened, well-intended or decent about Conchis and his crew of creepy cronies. And it was never even explained who these people were exactly. We know they weren’t really psychiatrists, and any theme of witchcraft was left completely undeveloped. Other than some voodoo-type images left hanging on a tree, and the costumes at the trial, there’s no clear explanation of how or whether witchcraft played a role. I saw no overall cohesive, unifying design in this book. It seemed to me like it was made up as he went along, perhaps while imbibing some gin and tonics. It was Fowles' first book, and so I’m not saying that’s a crime to be a little sloppy. But I can’t label this book is brilliant when it really does not make any sense in the most fundamental ways. Julie’s mother back in London, what was she about? This book just seems like it was a series of random thoughts, piled on top of one another. Hypnosis, witchcraft, Jungian psychiatry-- it’s like Fowles threw in everything of interest to him, including the kitchen sink, in a haphazard attempt to make a fascinating book. The book was indeed close to fascinating, but the story makes no sense. After almiost 700 pages,I was very disappointed that it didn't.

When I finished this book I kissed it, and perhaps that's all I need to say. However: I think the great virtue of this text is that it genuinely evokes, via its total imaginative scheme, a sense of life's large inherent possibilities--which seem always to be threatened or smothered altogether by the shrieks and nonsense of pop culture on the one side, and the routine ugliness of "Dear Leaders," Robert Mugabes, rape camps, "black sites," and God knows what else on the other. *The Magus* tells a story that manages to ascend above all of this cloud cover, and in doing so injects us with a feeling of near magical possibilities, and a kind of still, steady flame of exhilaration, that endures (accompanied, however, by some very dramatic changes of tone along the way) throughout the entire novel. The basic scenario of the novel consists of an educated young Englishman at loose ends who decides to take a one year job teaching English at a school on a Greek island. There he encounters a reclusive, rich, somewhat mysterious individual who lives on an isolated estate on the island. From there, various events occur that are, well, interesting.... That is really all you need to know. For God's sake don't read any spoiler reviews that "tell the story of the book" (no review should do this, but many do); just read it innocently, with no foreknowledge and your mind open. If any other enticement is needed, I might add that we are also told, relatively early on in the book, the meaning of life! This in the form of an image expressed by a statue. After you have digested this, you might want to take a look at the wonderful Blake poem of the same name. I was somewhat afraid that the ending, as it seems to be controversial or unsatisfying to many, would strike a wrong note but in my view it does exactly the opposite. The long, slow cadence of the final section is beautifully controlled and beautifully carried off, and in a sense (near the very end, the "end of the ending")--in its micro-definition of moments and moods--trumps everything that has gone before. A perfect ending. *The Magus* is a great adventure in a beautiful place. Like life itself is supposed to be.

This is not a full review of the book, as others have already done a much better job than I could ever do. Instead I wanted to provide some further clarity for those of you who, like me, are discovering this masterpiece for the first time and are trying to make a decision regarding "original edition" vs. "revised edition", as well as "hard copy vs. Kindle". After reading many Amazon reviews, I became a bit panicked that "I need to find an original edition!" as I am a purist and "Of course I want to read the version the author originally released! No George Lucas-like after-the-fact hatchet job for me!" I went and did just that, finding a release year (book club) edition in my local used book store. I read that version, enjoyed it very much, and then immediately bought the Kindle edition to see how the Kindle edition transferred, as well as see how the story may have been different after revision. Kindle conclusions: - The Kindle version is the updated revision (not the original) - The Kindle version looks good (i.e., the conversion to electronic was decent) Revised edition conclusions (just my opinion but I'm fresh off of reading both versions back to back as a NEW reader. I'm not one of those who read this back in the 1960's and has nostalgia for that 1960's experience): - Don't knock yourself out looking for the original version. The edits are not that significant (arguably the revised is better anyway for a new reader) - The updated version is Fowles' OWN revisions. He did them himself (in 1977) to "improve" his own masterwork, which was the first novel he ever wrote, although not the first to publish. According to him the book suffered because it was his first. He admits in the revised edition Forward, "...my strongest memory is of constantly having to abandon drafts because of an inability to describe what I wanted." - The revised version is a little more "erotic" in some of the earlier chapters (where he had original intent, but witheld because he was afraid of the books reception in 1965). - (MINOR SPOILER IN THIS BULLET) The revised version is a little "tidier" in the last chapter (he wanted to remove some unintentional vagueness, while at the same time not removing the intentional vagueness regarding the final question, "what did the protagonist do next?") My personal opinion of the book is that I'm very glad I read it. I would be just as glad with either version knowing what I know now. "The Magus" now belongs among my (unfortunately) small collection of great novels that make me take stock of myself, mull my life, think about where I've been and where I'm going, etc. (One of my favorite books in this category happens to be "Replay" by Ken Grimwood, and if anyone reads this review and knows of similar books, I would love to hear from you.).

I had no idea what to expect from this book. After reading it, I read others' Amazon comments and was quite surprised as there seems to be a theme of the reviews which I will touch upon below. LENGTH: for many it is too long. But, so are many other well written works and this element alone should not affect your decision. Lift it, read the first 100 pages, and if you decide at that time to forego the book, do as you must. ALISON: Some say she was hurt - cruelly - by Nicholas. Nicholas is the protagonist who dumps Australian stewardess Alison to work on a Greek island, Phraxos, upon completing university studies at Oxford. To enter this new adventure in life, he separates from Alison, who seeks to remain with "Nickie." When you have finished, you may decide that she was cruel to him, or that each deserves the other, or agree with the others about his mistreating Alison. But, the line of cruelty is not as well drawn as some may imply. BORING: Ths is about discourse between individuals in 1953 - before action-packed films were made, before television, and before good music systems. This book is rich with dialogue. Wonderfully so. Some describe this as a masterful work in dialogue. Deservedly so. CONTENT: You are as unaware of the lies as Nicholas. You, like he, are dragged by the ring in your nose as the people in this book take him from one scene to the next under absolutely chronic and impassioned lies. You constantly must ask yourself: would I have withstood it as well as Nicholas? Or better yet, would I have withstood it as long as Nicholas or been more like the characters who preceded him? This will all make sense if you read the book. This long, and well written novel, will take time to finish. But, it is worth every minute of your reading time. When you finish, you may be glad to be rid of the antics of his island mentor, Conchis - the cruelest person who any reader would describe as despicable to Nicholas and many others. But, you learned much from Conchis, and thankfully not at the price paid by poor, poor Nicholas.

Too long, drags without substance, way to much use of other languages without sense. I skipped about half of some chapters and still the book made "sense".