Of Human Bondage (Bantam Classics)

It's difficult to approach this wonderful book afresh, as there have been several film versions -- none of them really satisfying -- and to tell the truth this wasn't the first time I've read it. This was my third read over a period of 50 years, and each time was like a new experience. This is a long novel -- no getting away from that -- and there are moments when the reader might wonder why Mr. Maugham didn't condense his story somewhat. But novels were long in those days (1916), and this is in the tradition of a lengthy Dickens novel like David Copperfield. There are similarities, too, with Dickens in theme and treatment: a boy orphaned at a young age, brought up by relatives inexperienced in the rearing of a shy, sensitive child, the constant struggle with poverty, the finding of one's place in the world. So yes, this is a long book but it has a magical forward thrust -- Maugham was a master storyteller -- and except for a couple of doldrums it moves right along up to its somewhat unconvincing finish. What stood out for me this time around is how shockingly self-absorbed the hero, Philip Carey, really is! Painfully shy, he is flawed in many ways, but extremely bright. The reader often wants to just slap some sense into him, wishing he would learn from his mistakes and get over himself, as we say nowadays. This is maddening, but it makes Philip a fascinating character study. He doesn't learn from his mistakes, and like many young people is completely ruled by his emotions, complicated in this case by his pride and class snobbery. In other words, he is his own worst enemy. It's interesting, and crucial to the tension of the plot, that the reader is more aware than Philip is where his self-destructive behavior will lead him. We fear for him and mourn with him when misfortune comes. Oddly, for such a long book, the character who becomes his nemesis has to wait until the volume is half over before she makes her appearance.

The central and most famous sections of the story deal with his disastrous involvement with Mildred Rogers, a selfish, ignorant virago of a woman who instinctively recognizes in Philip an unconscious masochism and uses it to manipulate him, like a puppet on a string. Her cruelty is almost beyond belief at times, and the reader learns to both dread and look forward to her appearances, like a terrible accident we're compelled to watch. And it should be said that these are the most exciting scenes in this powerful novel. The protagonist's attraction to her is a mystery even to himself, but it is undeniable. A kind of bondage. But there are other women in Philip's life and invariably he treats them quite badly. His men friends don't fare much better. He doesn't seem to have a sense of what makes people tick. He is simply oblivious to the suffering of a fellow art student who is in love with him, although her tragic end does provoke some pricks of conscience. On the other hand, despite many setbacks Philip eventually becomes an excellent doctor, sympathetic and liked by his patients. These contradictions in our hero's character are part of why he is such an enduring character in literature. For me, the most moving parts of his story are when he is forced by dire circumstance to accept help from the people who care for him. He seems surprised that they would want to, so precarious is his self-esteem. This makes Philip Carey very modern in some ways. He has to touch bottom several times before the way forward becomes clear. This is one of the great books of the twentieth century, and one of the most entertaining.

I finished Of Human Bondage within the past hour, and though I came here looking for information on various editions, I read a few of the reviews as well, prompting me to put down a few comments.

Maugham and his contemporaries were writing in a world altogether different from their recent predecessors: though set in the later-19th century, waning years of the Victorian era, the book was published in 1915. It's part of 20th-century literature, and though pre-dating the horrors of the first World War, it's got a 20th century outlook. When it's grim, it is a kind of darkness that feels quite in the middle of Dickens and the "lost generation". When it's attractive, and it is often enough, it seems to be a little more old-fashioned, but not romantic or picturesque.

Philosophically it's existentialist - that is to say, the protagonist, Phillip, evolves through the story of his first 30 years from a young man convinced of the "rightness" of the Church of England, to an atheist, and on until he embraces a philosophic outlook that he's come to pretty much on his own.

There is wonderful writing here, plenty worth re-reading immediately before moving on, beautiful things and artfully hideous things. The length of the story, the "one man's life in 122 chapters" completeness of it, can remind a reader of a Tom Jones or even a Dickensian "boy-to-man" tale. The incidents and settings can prompt similar comparisons. At various points I found myself thinking of Orson Welles' observation, "Happy endings depend on stopping the story before it's over." Sad endings, too. Change and alteration by surroundings, events and self are part of the existentialist notion, and the ending is actually always a kind of receding destination.

By the way, though psychology was in the writer's vernacular in 1915, Maugham steers clear, it seems, in favor of philosophy and religion.

The settings here grow in interest, I think - the boyhood years, especially in school, are by now such well-trod territory that they hold less attraction. The German and Paris years are entertaining, the Hospital years pretty fascinating. The secondary characters all bring something to the color and the development of the story - the development of the man, too.

" ... he seemed to see that the inward life might be as manifold, as varied, as rich with experience, as the life of one who conquered reals and explored unknown lands."

Mr. Maugham's magnum opus unquestionably lived up to the hype. For many years I had started this book, only to be dissuaded by its overwhelming somberness and what seemed to be a bleak outlook on life. But that's just how it starts out!! The rest of the novel is as dynamic and filled with as much depth and soul as "Great Expectations" or Joyce's "Portrait." A bildungsroman like no other.

The story follows the hapless Phillip Carey, as he makes his way through adolescence and young adulthood. He learns from an early age that life is brimming with tragedy: orphanned and club-footed, he is taken in by his vicar uncle and later attends a religious boarding school. These formative years, in which he experiences constant disappointment, have an irrevocable impact on his spirituality and worldview; God no longer exists for him and he's forced to search for another meaning to life. He travels through Europe, jumping from one occupation to another, ever indecisive about his calling. The novel carries through all his ups and downs, from the stimulation of Paris to the stagnation of London, from painter to healer.

He experiences one existential crisis after another, as he goes through all his trials and tribulations. An especially bitter one for him is his dalliance with the femme fatale who becomes an object of obsession for him. Mildred is an odious human being, embodying just about every negative quality imaginable, and she manipulates poor Phillip every chance she gets. Never has unrequited love been quite so embraced by anyone other than Phillip. But it is only through her pettiness and selfishness that Phillip can realize who he is.

As we see in the course of the novel, the world is a rich tapestry, and we must discover its meaning for ourselves. Phillip eventually realizes what this is, and it is this realization that allows him to endure the pain and emotional turmoil of it. It is truly an ordeal at times. But he learns to embrace another possibility, one pregnant with hope, a counterpoint to tragedy and misfortune.

Besides Phillip and Mildred, the novel is rife with Dickensian characters, from the lovable Thorpe Athelny to the histrionic Miss Wilkinson to the poetic Cronshaw and the diffuse Hayward. Maugham's heart was always in the nineteenth century, as Gore Vidal notes. The influence of that era's literature and art is unmistakeable in every facet of his writing and the characters, in particular. They are a heart-warming cast that play off of Phillip's idiosyncracies and enrich all of his life experiences.

This novel has my unreserved praise. Here is the bildungsroman at its finest, a novel that rightfully deserves its place in the canon. It exceeded all my expectations and left me craving more. What every book should be.