Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Collector



The Collector is an engrossing psychological thriller from John Fowles. The plot is simple enough, but the sophistication inherent in some of the themes this novel presents make it an incredible first novel.

Frederick Clegg is a socially awkward young man who collects butterflies and lives with an aunt and cousin after the deaths of his parents. He fantasizes a life with a local girl, Miranda Grey, who is far out of his league. By chance, Frederick wins the pools and no longer need worry about income. He buys a secluded country house, packs the aunt and cousin off to Australia, and puts into play a plan to realize his fantasy of a life with Miranda by kidnapping her off of a London street.

The first half of the novel is written from Frederick's point of view. His even, almost emotionless tone and awkward formality and Victorian sense of virtue make's one forget from time to time that he is a psychopath. He makes much of the fact that he does not violate Miranda sexually, and believes that this makes him a good person.

The second half is told from Miranda's point of view. The incidents are the same, but her explanations (in a hastily scrawled journal) show the motivations behind her interactions with Frederick. She longs, of course, for freedom, but she also analyzes her relationship with the much older artist G.P. and comes to a series of conclusions regarding art, beauty, and those who do and do not understand them.

The theme of imprisonment runs throughout the book. There is Frederick's physical imprisonment of Miranda as well as the fact that he is imprisoned by his set way of thinking. Miranda is imprisoned by her social and artistic elitism; she is a snob in the worst way. She not only disdains those of lower social status, but those 'new people' with their middle class wealth who do not and cannot properly appreciate art and culture the way that she and her high-minded friends can. The story is a journey for her as well as for Frederick, although the results for both are unexpected.

A creepy novel with a provocative ending for the early 1960s. A film version with Terence Stamp was also made.

3 comments:

Elise said...

Weird... my boyfriend just watched the movie yesterday, and liked it quite a bit. I read the book several (actually, probably over ten) years ago, and I remember feeling creeped out through the whole thing.

Mike said...

Good write-up. It's been years since I read it, but I remember that imprisonment theme.

The Magus is one of my favorite novels, if you want more Fowles. It's so compelling you'll plow through its 600 pages like a 12-year old with a new Harry Potter book.

Dave said...

I just made the connection between this book and the song 'Butterfly' by Weezer. The song is from one of my favorite albums, Pinkerton:

Yesterday I went outside
With my mama's mason jar,
Caught a lovely butterfly
When I woke up today
Looked in on my fairy pet
She had withered all away
No more sighing in the breast

I'm sorry for what I did
I did what my body told me to
I didn't mean to do you harm
Everytime I pin down what I think I want it slips away
The goal slips away

Smell you on my hands for days
I can't wash away your scent
If I'm a dog then you're a bitch [pause]
I guess you're as real as me
Maybe I can live with that
Maybe I need fantasy
Life of chasing butterfly

I'm sorry for what I did
I did what my body told me to
I didn't mean to do you harm
Everytime I pin down what I think I want it slips away
The goal slips away

I told you I would return
When the robin makes his nest
But I ain't never coming back
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm sorry