It's like cutting down a tree, except the rings inside are multi-coloured.
In 100 pages, Fowles has included political undertones, Shakespearean references and metaphors upon metaphors. One could read this book 100 times over and still find something new to take from it.
While brilliantly thought out, it is incredibly messed up.
Throughout the book we follow the interactions between Fredrick Clegg, who represents the masses and his victim Miranda Grey, who represents the elite.
Shared from both perspectives, this book shows that their points of view are starkly different from one another, communicating in a language the other cannot understand. It almost becomes a game of sorts. One tries to manipulate the other, but both are unwilling to budge, forever at an impasse.
Miranda refers to Clegg as Caliban, a nod to Shakespeare's the Tempest. Caliban in that tale is a demon who is obsessed with Prospero's daughter who is Miranda's namesake.
Clegg refers to himself as Ferdinand, after the man who wins Miranda's (the Tempest version, not the Collector version,) affections. Whether this is intentional of Clegg or not is unknown.
Clegg is an etymologist. He collects butterflies and preserves them. Due to his loneliness and lack of social skills, he believes he can 'collect' Miranda, preserving her in a small room in the countryside.
What he neglects to understand is that when you try and keep something isolated in a cage, it doesn't last long. This applies to animals, plants and people.
If you love something, then it must be free. If you try to keep it to yourself, it suffocates.
Oddly, Clegg's character does not really develop, in that he doesn't learn from his experience, even going so far as to say that he plans to capture another girl.
I enjoy books that make me think. While this book was a device to understand social constructs, (In that people who represent the masses need to be taught out of their false sense of inferiority and the elite need to understand that their status is a responsibility, not merely a state of existence.) it was profoundly disturbing and learning that Clegg didn't learn from his mistake, nor really felt any remorse for what he did made me feel wrong, as though something inside myself had been distorted and bent out of shape.
As a debut novel, it was brilliant. Though I cannot abide lack of character development.
4 out of 5 stars.
Miranda refers to Clegg as Caliban, a nod to Shakespeare's the Tempest. Caliban in that tale is a demon who is obsessed with Prospero's daughter who is Miranda's namesake.
Clegg refers to himself as Ferdinand, after the man who wins Miranda's (the Tempest version, not the Collector version,) affections. Whether this is intentional of Clegg or not is unknown.
Clegg is an etymologist. He collects butterflies and preserves them. Due to his loneliness and lack of social skills, he believes he can 'collect' Miranda, preserving her in a small room in the countryside.
What he neglects to understand is that when you try and keep something isolated in a cage, it doesn't last long. This applies to animals, plants and people.
If you love something, then it must be free. If you try to keep it to yourself, it suffocates.
Oddly, Clegg's character does not really develop, in that he doesn't learn from his experience, even going so far as to say that he plans to capture another girl.
I enjoy books that make me think. While this book was a device to understand social constructs, (In that people who represent the masses need to be taught out of their false sense of inferiority and the elite need to understand that their status is a responsibility, not merely a state of existence.) it was profoundly disturbing and learning that Clegg didn't learn from his mistake, nor really felt any remorse for what he did made me feel wrong, as though something inside myself had been distorted and bent out of shape.
As a debut novel, it was brilliant. Though I cannot abide lack of character development.
4 out of 5 stars.
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