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35
had become infatuated with a French dancer"), yet they have no para-
digms with which to understand the man. No one seems to.
Dirk Stroeve and his wife come into the story as perfect foils to
show us the next set of depths to which Strickland's fate binds him. That
Stroeve forgives Strickland in the end for ruining his wife to her death
brings out Strickland's character even more so.
Strickland becomes a paradox ("He was a sensual man, and yet
was indifferent to sensual things") yet you begin to get a better picture
of him from description to description ("He did not seem quite sane. It
seemed to me that he would not show his pictures because he was really
not interested in them. I had the idea that he seldom brought anything
to completion, but the passion that fired him, he lost all care for it.")
The more possessed Strickland appears, the more you understand him.
An important distinction that surprised me was that Strickland
was not an elegant speaker:
He used gestures instead of adjectives, and he halted. He never
said a clever thing, but he had a vein of brutal sarcasm which was not
ineffective, and he always said exactly what he thought."
He is shut in a tower of brass, and can communicate with his fel-
lows only by signs, and signs have no common value, so that their sense
is vague and uncertain.
Like a sculptor, Maugham reveals Strickland's character piece by
piece:
For choice he sat on a kitchen chair without arms. It often exas-
perated me to see him. I never knew a man so entirely indifferent to his
surroundings.
The emotions common to most of us simply did not exist in him,
and it was as absurd to blame him for not feeling them as for blaming
the tiger because he is fierce and cruel.
36
Strickland was indifferent to his surroundings, and he had lived
in the other's studio without thinking of altering a thing.
When I imagined that on seeing his pictures I should get a clue to
the understanding of his strange character I was mistaken. They merely
increased the astonishment with which he filled me.
With Strickland the sexual appetite took a very small place. It
was unimportant. It was irksome. His soul aimed else where. He had
violent passions, and on occasion desire seized his body so that he was
driven to an orgy of lust, but hated the instincts that robbed him of his
self-possession. I think, even, he hated the inevitable partner in his de-
bauchery. When he had regained command over himself, he shuddered
at the sight of the woman he had enjoyed.
Strickland was an odious man, but I still think he was a great
one.
When Stroeve's wife stated that she was in love with Strickland
we get one level deeper. This episode shows a nice love/hate attraction,
which emphasizes Strickland's paradoxal nature.
The shift to the island gave the book a new dimension and kept it
fresh. This is a nicely balanced book, you do not get bored in any set-
ting of it, it has a motion all the way through. As strange as the island is,
it was a place which Strickland needed:
Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels
that he belongs. Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid
scenes that he has never seen bfore, among men he has never known, as
though they were familiar to him from his birth. Here at last he finds
rest.
He painted and he read, and in the evening, when it was dark,
they sat together on the veranda, smoking and looking at the night.
had become infatuated with a French dancer"), yet they have no para- Strickland was indifferent to his surroundings, and he had lived
digms with which to understand the man. No one seems to. in the other's studio without thinking of altering a thing.
Dirk Stroeve and his wife come into the story as perfect foils to When I imagined that on seeing his pictures I should get a clue to
show us the next set of depths to which Strickland's fate binds him. That the understanding of his strange character I was mistaken. They merely
Stroeve forgives Strickland in the end for ruining his wife to her death increased the astonishment with which he filled me.
brings out Strickland's character even more so. With Strickland the sexual appetite took a very small place. It
Strickland becomes a paradox ("He was a sensual man, and yet was unimportant. It was irksome. His soul aimed else where. He had
was indifferent to sensual things") yet you begin to get a better picture violent passions, and on occasion desire seized his body so that he was
of him from description to description ("He did not seem quite sane. It driven to an orgy of lust, but hated the instincts that robbed him of his
seemed to me that he would not show his pictures because he was really self-possession. I think, even, he hated the inevitable partner in his de-
not interested in them. I had the idea that he seldom brought anything bauchery. When he had regained command over himself, he shuddered
to completion, but the passion that fired him, he lost all care for it.") at the sight of the woman he had enjoyed.
The more possessed Strickland appears, the more you understand him. Strickland was an odious man, but I still think he was a great
An important distinction that surprised me was that Strickland one.
was not an elegant speaker: When Stroeve's wife stated that she was in love with Strickland
He used gestures instead of adjectives, and he halted. He never we get one level deeper. This episode shows a nice love/hate attraction,
said a clever thing, but he had a vein of brutal sarcasm which was not which emphasizes Strickland's paradoxal nature.
ineffective, and he always said exactly what he thought." The shift to the island gave the book a new dimension and kept it
He is shut in a tower of brass, and can communicate with his fel- fresh. This is a nicely balanced book, you do not get bored in any set-
lows only by signs, and signs have no common value, so that their sense ting of it, it has a motion all the way through. As strange as the island is,
is vague and uncertain. it was a place which Strickland needed:
Like a sculptor, Maugham reveals Strickland's character piece by Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels
piece: that he belongs. Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid
For choice he sat on a kitchen chair without arms. It often exas- scenes that he has never seen bfore, among men he has never known, as
perated me to see him. I never knew a man so entirely indifferent to his though they were familiar to him from his birth. Here at last he finds
surroundings. rest.
The emotions common to most of us simply did not exist in him, He painted and he read, and in the evening, when it was dark,
and it was as absurd to blame him for not feeling them as for blaming they sat together on the veranda, smoking and looking at the night.
the tiger because he is fierce and cruel.
35 36
