A MAGGOT by John Fowles. Reviewed by Mark Shaw. March 31, 2008
I was prompted to seek out this novel because of a remark the late UFO
researcher Jacques Vallee made in an interview. He described it as the
most fascinating example in literature of humans interacting with a
completely non-human intelligence. I tried to read it several years ago,
but its antiquated dialogues (written in 18th Century English literary
style, ala Daniel DeFoe), and enigmatic, offbeat storyline defeated me.
Recently, I tried again with better success, and discovered why Vallee
found it so fascinating. He should; this novel's climax revolves around
a close encounter with an object (described by the main witness as
resembling a huge maggot) and its occupants, who may or may not be; a.)
devils, b.) angels, c.) aliens, d.) time travelers, e.) occultist
hoaxers, or f.) The Holy Trinity --take your pick. That we never
discover conclusively what really occurred, much less solve the novel's
pur****ted mystery is purely intentional, but leads to frustration for
many readers. Vallee would've found it very true-to-life.
Basically, A MAGGOT follows an in-depth investigation, told mainly in the
form of letters and depositions by witnesses, into the mysterious
disappearance of a man known only as "his lord****p," or "Bartholemew"(a
non-de plume), and the apparent suicide of his servant in Devon, England
in 1736. The statements are elicited by an irascible, bullying lawyer
and related mostly in "question and answer" sessions that read like trial
transcripts. Each person's deposition describes the event, or the events
leading to it, from completely different perspectives. This gives the
novel a profound resonance, especially for a researcher with Vallee's
credentials, since it ostensibly describes a UFO encounter, as well as
the investigation afterwards, complete with conflicting accounts by the
eyewitnesses, in-the-field research, analyzing of soil samples found at
the landing site, and the traumatic account of an ‘abductee'--all from
18th Century perspectives. The main witness at first relates the event
as an encounter with the Devil, but eventually interprets it as a
profoundly positive, divine experience, and it directly results in the
foundation of a religion (Shakerism, which is a real, though now defunct,
offshoot of Quakerism).
Some have accused Fowles of attempting to shoehorn a blase Science
Fiction concept into a pastiche of Literary Romanticism. On the surface,
this seems like a valid complaint, but in the richness of the material
and its open-ended ambiguity, A MAGGOT transcends so cut-and-dried an
interpretation. What begins as obscure mystery eventually becomes social
parable, and the idea of using a staple of modern tabloids as the basis
of a historical enigma (the founding of a real "cult") gives this novel
an edge like few others. History tells us actual religions were
apparently inspired or affected by encounters with unexplainable objects
and beings (Fatima and The Mormons come most readily to mind), and here,
the similarity to Christ's immaculate conception is explicit. So there's
not only Biblical but historical precedence for this idea, and Fowles
exploits it masterfully.
Obviously, the author is familiar with the literature of UFOs and the
mind altering effect they seem to have on the witnesses, for he has the
methodology of the phenomenon down pat. The novel's main protagonist,
London prostitute Rebecca Lee, experiences the same confusion, trauma and
spiritual awakening many modern UFO contactees describe, and her attempts
to make sense of the outre event leads to a striking personality change,
culminating in an unshakable (no pun intended) faith in the divine nature
of her encounter. Or does it?
In Fowles' novels, things are never quite what they seem; people even
less so. Ultimately, the implication is that the event really happened,
for two of the witnesses observe identical imagery, albeit from different
perspectives, and seem to confirm each other. But Fowles complicates
things by casting doubt on Lee's testimonies, and we must rely totally on
her observations beyond a certain point, for she is the only surviving
eyewitness to the actual close encounter with the "maggot." He paints
her as a complex, unusually perceptive woman whose thinking is decidedly
ahead of her time. She is determined to escape her former life as
prostitute, and agrees to accompany his "lord****p" solely to gain her own
ends. Fowles describes Lee's talent for deception and moreover, it is
her ability to act, to play a part, that compels the enigmatic
"lord****p" to include her in the initial charade he perpetrates, and
which directly leads to the ultimate encounter. In Lee's testimonies, we
are never sure if she might not still be fabricating and deceiving for
purely selfish motives --after all, she gives two completely different
accounts of the event to different people. Additionally, Fowles
describes Rebecca's oddly sly reactions when the novel steps out of
"question and answer" mode, and her demeanor throughout is overtly
enigmatic, which arouses suspicion, to say the least.
So is it a lie? A hallucination? An elaborate hoax perpetrated on an
innocent Lee, to create a new religion (and perhaps, alter history)? If
so, it's never clear who is responsible, or why. Many interpretations
are suggested, including time travelers, Satanists, and the implication
that his lord****p himself is perhaps not human. Even Freemasonry is
hinted at briefly. Then there's Lee's unbending (or is it?) belief that
she was chosen by God--and her innate knowledge that her child will be a
spiritual leader (which comes true, after the novel's events, in real
life). Yet these explanations seem either too pat or too fantastic to be
the truth. Apparently, the only truth is that someone or something has
staged this elaborate event for unknown reasons.
Rebecca's second account, image-wise, is a textbook example of a UFO
encounter of the "contactee" variety. Her visual description begs that
the experience is real, even if her interpretation isn't, for she
describes watching what are obviously films and being programmed by the
images shown to her. The details have no relation to anything in the
early 1700s, so it's flatly impossible she could have fabricated them.
Later, the religious interpretation espoused by the reborn Rebecca rings
false, for Fowles presents her single-minded rants as so aggressively
fanatical that the reader often sympathizes with the lawyer who has to
endure them. Some of these sequences are so blatantly dogmatic, they're
funny. Especially if Rebecca is still acting--but is she? In the end,
the reader is left to make what sense of it they may, but no absolute
answer is offered.
This is by no means an easy book to read. It's stylistically archaic and
intentionally ambiguous. It indulges in lengthy philosophical
digressions and annoying religious rants, and deceives the reader as to
its characters' actual motives and personalities--if it provides them at
all. Yet its rewards are tremendous; a successful evocation of not just
the period, but its people; a compelling revelation of mysteries within
mysteries and charades within charades. And a resolution layered with
multiple interpretations that truly challenges--and provokes ideas and
reinterpretation long after reading. In other words--a great John Fowles
novel, maybe his greatest. A MAGGOT is haunting, powerful and
DIFFICULT--and easily the most brilliant book I've read in some time.
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