Feb. 13: Fowles #3
Not so much about love as inadvertent deceit…
which in a way threatens all forms of love Fowles
surprised me with his equally realistic and histrionic portrayal of the Sarah
and Charles saga. His skilled and witty
way with words continually delighted me, and Fowles seems to have a perception
about the human heart and mind that thoughtfully animates his characters and
seamlessly fuses them into a history based in reality. Though there are many lines I have highlighted
and noted as credit to Fowles's genius, they only go
so far in aiding my full acceptance of his writing style. Though I am tempted to write on several
subjects, I will narrow it down to the Charles's humorous religious conflictions
in the last 100 pages of this book. It
has been established in earlier chapters that Charles is an agnostic and finds
his only solace in a sort of spirit in nature and the unknown. He and Grogan's Darwinian status made Charles
feel as if he "was one of exalted superiority" with "an intellectual distance
above the rest" of his "fellow creatures. (Ch. 19. 132)" Charles's disdainful
opinion of organized, hypocritical religion coupled with his status as a
gentleman set him apart from the regular Victorian ruled by dogma, and it
wasn't until he "needed faith" that he comically made attempts at resurrecting
a personal belief in religion (Ch. 48, 282). Charles
obviously was very guilty about the whole Sarah ordeal, and I'm sure his
inability to root his sins and guilt anywhere but himself was troublesome. Throughout
his life, Charles "quite happily learned to do" without faith, so the moments
after he stumbles out of Endicott's hotel are his last attempts to run from a
truth that he believes in and that had dictated his actions up until this
point. He finds himself at a church,
and the curate decides to let Charles in after an inspection that confirms him
as "A gentleman. (Ch. 48, 281)" Alone in the church, Charles mindlessly
recites the Lord's prayer, and then composes "a special prayer for his
circumstances. (281)"
His pleas for Christ's forgiveness were all spoken in vain, and
seemed an attempt to clean away his own conscious rather than an appeal to be
forgiven by anyone else. "Forgive me my
dissatisfaction with myself" seems to sum up the basis of his prayer, and as
Sarah's image interrupted his thoughts and overcame the image of Christ,
Charles makes the unhappy realization that his prayer "was not heard. (Ch. 48,
281)" "His own inability to speak to
God" has been "like coming to a bottomless brink," and so Charles tried
desperately to rationalize a nearly hopeless philosophy by analogizing Jesus
with "a victory brought about by, and in, living men and women. ( Even
though Charles realized that there was no afterlife, he still was inclined to
pray, though "very irrational," to those dead, nonexistent ancestors he so
triumphantly threw off moments earlier. ( Charles's
actions were religiously sinful, and many would have founded their fault from
religious texts and creeds. His breaking
his engagement with Ernestina was merely a societal taboo punishable by law,
but the infidelity behind it was equally religiously and naturally
condemnable. He lied to, deceived, and
emotionally devastated another human being.
Mr. Grogan, a man ruled by science and reasoning, viewed Charles's
actions as unforgivable, and states his opinion not on the grounds of religion
or law. He wishes that any person of the
rational and scientific elect must still be ruled by decency, and any members,
past or present, "have introduced a finer and fairer morality into this dark
world. ( |