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37
He was an extraordinary figure, with his red beard and matted
hair, and his great hairy chest. His feet were horny and scarred; so that
I knew he went always barefoot. He had gone native with a venge-
ance.(!)
The ending has a Dorian Grey touch, as if Strickland's looks and
leprous condition began to show the deterioration of his soul. Then a
visitor comes to the house and finds that Strickland, even though
blinded from leprosy, had painted the inside walls of his cabin as he
died. Here you get the last clues into the depths of Strickland's pos-
sessed soul:
His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and now he was
seized by an overwhelming sensation as he stared at the painted walls.
He knew nothing of pictures, but there was something about these that
extraordinarily affected him. From floor to ceiling the walls were cov-
ered with a strange and elaborate composition. It was indescribably
wonderful and mysterious. It took his breath away. It filled him with an
emotion which he could not understand or analyze. He felt the awe and
the delight which a man might feel who watched the beginning of a
world. It was tremendous, sensual, passionate; and yet there was some-
thing horrible there too, something which made him afraid. It was the
work of a man who had delved into the hidden depths of nature and had
discovered secrets which were beautiful and fearful too. It was the work
of a man who knew things which it is unholy for men to know. There
was something primeval there and terrible. It was not human. It brought
to his mind vague recollections of black magic. It was beautiful and ob-
scene.
The moral issue comes up again. Strickland was a bastard of a
person, but was his life complete? Was he true?
38
The characters are sharp in this book. Maugham is a master at
this. For instance, you get full, bright concepts of Stroeve's character in
descriptions like this:
I suggested that he should get a thermometer, and a few grapes,
and some bread. Stroeve, glad to make himself useful, clattered down
the stairs.
He looked like an overblown schoolboy, and though I felt so
sorry for him, I could hardly help laughing.
Stroeve stopped again and mopped his face.
I begged Stroeve to behave more wisely.
Fine writing. Enjoyed the book.
Edward Tanguay
He was an extraordinary figure, with his red beard and matted The characters are sharp in this book. Maugham is a master at
hair, and his great hairy chest. His feet were horny and scarred; so that this. For instance, you get full, bright concepts of Stroeve's character in
I knew he went always barefoot. He had gone native with a venge- descriptions like this:
ance.(!) I suggested that he should get a thermometer, and a few grapes,
The ending has a Dorian Grey touch, as if Strickland's looks and and some bread. Stroeve, glad to make himself useful, clattered down
leprous condition began to show the deterioration of his soul. Then a the stairs.
visitor comes to the house and finds that Strickland, even though He looked like an overblown schoolboy, and though I felt so
blinded from leprosy, had painted the inside walls of his cabin as he sorry for him, I could hardly help laughing.
died. Here you get the last clues into the depths of Strickland's pos- Stroeve stopped again and mopped his face.
sessed soul: I begged Stroeve to behave more wisely.
His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and now he was Fine writing. Enjoyed the book.
seized by an overwhelming sensation as he stared at the painted walls. Edward Tanguay
He knew nothing of pictures, but there was something about these that
extraordinarily affected him. From floor to ceiling the walls were cov-
ered with a strange and elaborate composition. It was indescribably
wonderful and mysterious. It took his breath away. It filled him with an
emotion which he could not understand or analyze. He felt the awe and
the delight which a man might feel who watched the beginning of a
world. It was tremendous, sensual, passionate; and yet there was some-
thing horrible there too, something which made him afraid. It was the
work of a man who had delved into the hidden depths of nature and had
discovered secrets which were beautiful and fearful too. It was the work
of a man who knew things which it is unholy for men to know. There
was something primeval there and terrible. It was not human. It brought
to his mind vague recollections of black magic. It was beautiful and ob-
scene.
The moral issue comes up again. Strickland was a bastard of a
person, but was his life complete? Was he true?
37 38
