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3.85 AVERAGE
3.85 AVERAGE
this book came upon me one day as i was listening to a true crime podcast that chronicled the accounts of leonard lake and charles ng, essentially two deranged men who abducted women and tortured them in a bunker they had created, a perfect torture chamber to execute their snuff films. leonard lake has since left behind, not only the disturbing videos of evidence but this book, one that apparently inspired him to also capture women, to know what it is to Have one.
but to say that this book’s true accomplishment is inspiring such a serial killer would be trite; it is chilling psychological journey into the capabilities of human evil, as well as an analysis of class, power dynamics, art, and what it means to be alive.
there are many metaphors and recurring themes to be considered in this book, the collector as captor, the abhorrence of art collecting, of killing the life of art, the hypocrisy of miranda (more forgivable because of her innocence and budding self awareness), etc.
but what stuck out to me, annoyingly so, something i realize could have been the most irritating part of this novel, is miranda’s strange and intoxicating obsession with g.p., an older artist around the age of her father who acts as if he is the beholder of all that is true and honest in this world that has been poisoned with the New People, as he calls it, who do not feel art but see it, do not feel love but name it.
but i think my fascination with their dichotomy had more to do with personal relatability than anything else, of needing that approval and love from a man who withholds while feeding you whatever knowledge he holds that you desire for yourself. it is easy to fall into the traps of a man so elusive and seemingly all knowing, and to ridicule a character such as frederick who is, beyond his evil, dull and surface level. in the end it is all just “sour men and wounded women.”
there is too much to say about frederick and his delusional, pitiful internal monologue throughout this novel but he Is simply a freak of nature, a collector of beauty incapable of actually seeing beauty for what it is, as something that is Alive.
the ending is tragic but to me, a little expected. considering every metaphor for life and death and beauty in this book, i would not see it ending in any other way besides miranda falling ill and into death. her captor is a murderer of beauty and no violence is necessary on his end to kill her, as she is slowly suffocated by his illness of greed for a beauty he cannot understand. like the butterflies he collects she is nothing more than a spectacle he can fixate on and feel is his, as no beauty can truly live inside such a person.
but to say that this book’s true accomplishment is inspiring such a serial killer would be trite; it is chilling psychological journey into the capabilities of human evil, as well as an analysis of class, power dynamics, art, and what it means to be alive.
there are many metaphors and recurring themes to be considered in this book, the collector as captor, the abhorrence of art collecting, of killing the life of art, the hypocrisy of miranda (more forgivable because of her innocence and budding self awareness), etc.
but what stuck out to me, annoyingly so, something i realize could have been the most irritating part of this novel, is miranda’s strange and intoxicating obsession with g.p., an older artist around the age of her father who acts as if he is the beholder of all that is true and honest in this world that has been poisoned with the New People, as he calls it, who do not feel art but see it, do not feel love but name it.
but i think my fascination with their dichotomy had more to do with personal relatability than anything else, of needing that approval and love from a man who withholds while feeding you whatever knowledge he holds that you desire for yourself. it is easy to fall into the traps of a man so elusive and seemingly all knowing, and to ridicule a character such as frederick who is, beyond his evil, dull and surface level. in the end it is all just “sour men and wounded women.”
there is too much to say about frederick and his delusional, pitiful internal monologue throughout this novel but he Is simply a freak of nature, a collector of beauty incapable of actually seeing beauty for what it is, as something that is Alive.
the ending is tragic but to me, a little expected. considering every metaphor for life and death and beauty in this book, i would not see it ending in any other way besides miranda falling ill and into death. her captor is a murderer of beauty and no violence is necessary on his end to kill her, as she is slowly suffocated by his illness of greed for a beauty he cannot understand. like the butterflies he collects she is nothing more than a spectacle he can fixate on and feel is his, as no beauty can truly live inside such a person.
Incredible. Fowles captures the revolting misogyny that permeates so many and amplifies it into a perfectly written tale of an extreme desire for control. The way he writes the captor as so whiny, so pathetic, and Miranda as so intelligent and strong is wonderful.
Everybody should read this. It spares little details, which is something a really respect from a piece discussing a really horrible thing that really happens to thousands of women. I also really appreciate that GP is never her perfect escape away from her captor. The reader is initially introduced to him as the most wonderful man by Miranda’s writing. Soon, Fowles blends G.P.’s misogyny and violent outbursts into the captor’s, perhaps a final solidification of the book’s stance on men and masculinity. “You’re just the daughter I’d like to have. That’s probably why I’ve wanted you so much these last few months.” He patronises her and forces her to leave because he is in love with her, without a second thought for her feelings. He wants control of her just like her captor.
I also found it to be a really interesting dive into masculinity and innocence. The captor s ‘sheepish’ ‘lily white’ and ‘absolutely sexless’, still described as innocent, a pure victim, despite the kidnapping. The fact that he believes he could be doing so much worse to Miranda, and his lack of sexual intent, culminate in his belief in his innocence. This is a lack of masculinity in its own way. Even right at the end, he makes countless excuses for not caring for her, and they all basically culminate in a pity party for himself and how hard all of this has been for him. Miranda wishes he was ‘a man’ implying again that his lack of sexual intent makes him lack masculine traits. From her perspective, she she wishes he would be ‘a man’ so she could understand his intentions. Or perhaps she has an idealised view of masculinity. She believes that if he were a ‘real’ man, he wouldn’t be so cruel to her.
Will think about this one for a long time.
Everybody should read this. It spares little details, which is something a really respect from a piece discussing a really horrible thing that really happens to thousands of women. I also really appreciate that GP is never her perfect escape away from her captor. The reader is initially introduced to him as the most wonderful man by Miranda’s writing. Soon, Fowles blends G.P.’s misogyny and violent outbursts into the captor’s, perhaps a final solidification of the book’s stance on men and masculinity. “You’re just the daughter I’d like to have. That’s probably why I’ve wanted you so much these last few months.” He patronises her and forces her to leave because he is in love with her, without a second thought for her feelings. He wants control of her just like her captor.
I also found it to be a really interesting dive into masculinity and innocence. The captor s ‘sheepish’ ‘lily white’ and ‘absolutely sexless’, still described as innocent, a pure victim, despite the kidnapping. The fact that he believes he could be doing so much worse to Miranda, and his lack of sexual intent, culminate in his belief in his innocence. This is a lack of masculinity in its own way. Even right at the end, he makes countless excuses for not caring for her, and they all basically culminate in a pity party for himself and how hard all of this has been for him. Miranda wishes he was ‘a man’ implying again that his lack of sexual intent makes him lack masculine traits. From her perspective, she she wishes he would be ‘a man’ so she could understand his intentions. Or perhaps she has an idealised view of masculinity. She believes that if he were a ‘real’ man, he wouldn’t be so cruel to her.
Will think about this one for a long time.
dark
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Just. Oh my god
Content Warnings
Graphic: Misogyny, Toxic relationship, Violence, Kidnapping, Stalking
Disturbing look into the mind of a sociopath, which is not a happy place. Miranda’s idealistic ideas — from the viewpoint of a pampered, upper-class student with the pretensions of an artist — are annoyingly trite but sound true to both the times and a woman that age, which can only mean author John Fowles is brilliant.
dark
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
dark
tense
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Ma tahaksin...
oksendada
karjuda
nutta
rääkida
vaikida
ükskõikselt ühmata
talle ja ainult talle kirjutada
ja siis samas ka mitte kunagi enam talle kirjutada.
Mulle ei meeldinud lõpp, sest tänapäev ja 'You' rikkusid kõik veidikene ära. Aga karakterid! Ja pinge! Ja sisemonoloogid - ilus! Ja millised sümbolid/ paraleelid/ intelligents!
oksendada
karjuda
nutta
rääkida
vaikida
ükskõikselt ühmata
talle ja ainult talle kirjutada
ja siis samas ka mitte kunagi enam talle kirjutada.
Mulle ei meeldinud lõpp, sest tänapäev ja 'You' rikkusid kõik veidikene ära. Aga karakterid! Ja pinge! Ja sisemonoloogid - ilus! Ja millised sümbolid/ paraleelid/ intelligents!
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced