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    Melmoth the Wanderer: A Tale - In Four Volumes
    Melmoth the Wanderer: A Tale - In Four Volumes
    Melmoth the Wanderer: A Tale - In Four Volumes
    Ebook812 pages16 hours

    Melmoth the Wanderer: A Tale - In Four Volumes

    By Charles Maturin

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    The great-uncle of Oscar Wilde, Charles Maturin was a prolific author of the early 19th century. His "Melmoth the Wanderer" is considered by many to be the last traditional "Gothic" novel. Many of the Gothic romance and horror stories, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRead Books Ltd.
    Release dateApr 25, 2013
    ISBN9781447499787
    Melmoth the Wanderer: A Tale - In Four Volumes
    Author

    Charles Maturin

    Charles Maturin (1780-1824) was an Irish writer and clergyman. Born and raised in Dublin, Maturin was raised in a prominent Huguenot family. Educated at Trinity College, he became ordained as curate of Loughrea, County Galway, before returning to Dublin in 1903. Due to his position in the Church of Ireland, he was forced to publish his writing under a pseudonym, achieving some acclaim for his early novels. In 1816, his play Bertram was staged at the Drury Lane theatre in London. Although he was encouraged by Sir Water Scott and Lord Byron, he received a devastating review from Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who deemed the play “melancholy proof of the depravation of the public mind.” Forced to reveal his identity in order to claim his profits, Maturin was barred from advancement by the Church of Ireland and turned his attention to novel writing. In 1820, his Gothic novel Melmoth the Wanderer was published to critical acclaim, earning Maturin a reputation as a leading Romantic, influencing such writers as Charles Baudelaire and Honoré de Balzac. Controversial in his lifetime, viewed as an eccentric in his native country, Maturin would serve as inspiration to his grandnephew Oscar Wilde, as well as countless writers, artists, and aesthetes.

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    Reviews for Melmoth the Wanderer

    3.5/5

    217 ratings9 reviews

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    • 5/5
      One of the best novels ever written. It was long, tedious and a Chinese puzzle box full of wonder. You have to really stay on your toes to understand this story but when it is all done and you have wiped the blood from eyes you will thank yourself. Finishing it is a major achievement for anyone who reads on a regular basis. I wonder what this would have been like if Umberto Eco had penned it. It takes some real stamina.
    • 4/5
      Wonderfully atmospheric and gloomy with some splendidly misanthropist screeds, this novel is the apotheosis of the Romantic horror novel. The structure is contrived, with its stories nested like a set of matryoshka dolls, and the relentless anti-Catholicism is heavy handed. Still, the highlights are worth the slogs through the languors, and if this sort of thing is your cup of tea, then there's a whole Brown Betty potful of Gothic delights to be savored here.
    • 4/5
      Lonely and thought-provoking. One of the finest Gothic novels, although that may be faint praise..
    • 5/5
      One of the best novels ever written. It was long, tedious and a Chinese puzzle box full of wonder. You have to really stay on your toes to understand this story but when it is all done and you have wiped the blood from eyes you will thank yourself. Finishing it is a major achievement for anyone who reads on a regular basis. I wonder what this would have been like if Umberto Eco had penned it. It takes some real stamina.
    • 3/5
      This is a weirdly long book about which to say "I couldn't get into it," but somehow I read all 500+ pages and still feel that way. I love gothic novels, but this one just felt like it went on and on and on ... and on ... and on ... and on ... with stories-within-stories-within-stories and lots of anti-Catholic rhetoric. I don't know. I may just have to try again someday.
    • 4/5
      Melmoth had been on my radar as a book I might get around to on that ever-lengthening list of books I might get around to. Sarah Perry's book just happened to be called 'Melmoth' so I figured I should get to the Maturin before the Perry. Melmoth features a series of nested spooky stories: one leading to the next. Though somehow these slightly connected stories didn't connect as much as I thought they would by the end. I think Maturin can really look at things differently with some unique perspectives and turns of phrase. Maturin reminds me a bit of Hawthorne in this way. My Hawthorne knowledge might only extend to 'The House of Seven Gables', but it's such a great book on a psychological level. At times, the writing seemed like it might be from a much later time than 1820 and be emulating the writing from the past, for example, 'Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell' by Susanna Clarke -- if you like one, you'll probably like the other.
    • 3/5
      “Miserable wretch that I am! At this moment, a voice from the bottom of my heart asks me ‘Whom hast thou loved so much? Was it man or God, that thou darest to compare thyself with her who knelt, and wept—not before a mortal idol, but at the feet of an incarnate divinity?’”—Melmoth the Wanderer by Charles MaturinWhat a great beginning, dripping in all the best gothic goo and sticking to the back of the brain. Hidden portraits with hidden histories in houses of decrepitude and ancient sins. Torture, bloody death under trampling hooves, breaking spirits on wheels and in dungeons and looming over cliffs toward hell-tossed oceans. I wanted to love this book. And the neck had been so damn snug in that lunette. What happened? Well, while the blade went singing to that doomed soul kneeling in puddles of blood, the narrative had been hijacked and hijacked again and hijacked once more. Hi-hi-high treasonous prose! Not remaining faithful to the set-up, playing Russian nesting dolls with the plot, whisking away the cobwebs only to find that behind that rusting and molding door is another goddamn door. Goddamn! That’s right, Melmoth sold his soul to the Devil and searched the world for a sucker to take his dark mantle from off his shoulders—kind of a reverse of Diogenes with demon’s blood in the lamp instead of light. So, like many other Gothic tales of its time, I was disappointed. Yet, in awe when some powerful passage would clout me at the base of the nose when nearly nodding off. Did he just . . . ?It would take the likes of Poe to distill this kind of story into a truly affecting work. And since I’m a condenser by nature, a writer who cuts and squeezes until all the infection is out, to the detriment of the body, maybe, I couldn’t help but wish this thing move along a bit more briskly. Let the bloodletting commence! But without this kind of work, with its kind of unique power and sutured narrative to one hundred and fifty-year-old flesh, there would never have been a tradition of dark yet metaphysical literature to challenge readers and lovers of the macabre. Not all vampires are sparkly. Not all depictions of the Devil are devilish. (“The Brothers Karamazov” attests to the truth of that.) Not all narratives need be straight-forward—bent by scabrous fingers on dark designs. I just wish “Melmoth the Wanderer” hadn’t wandered so much.
    • 5/5
      There are Faustian stories about the Devil and Faustian stories about Faust, but Melmoth the Wanderer transcends the conventions (and the trappings) of both. Nested narratives that nearly defy our ability to maintain just who is speaking and who is listening spiral out of each other like smoke rising from a censer and coalescing with dreamy fog. This is the story of a man who sells his soul for a little extra time—of a man who currently has one-hundred-and-fifty years to prey on the helpless, the innocent, the guilty, the tortured, the desperate, the insane; to win them by hook or by crook into trading places with him and taking over his ultimate damnation. In Melmoth the Wanderer we are presented at times with stories within stories within stories within stories within stories—each detailing the sufferings of a mankind determined, apparently, to keep on suffering—and through it all, sparkling like a jewel in a pile of spent ashes, recurring when least needed and most expected, tying together the helpless and essentially unrelated skeins of a persecuted humanity throughout the centuries of his eerie, tormented existence is Melmoth the Wanderer.Drawing heavily on the bombastic nature of the Gothic tomes that came before him, Charles Maturin took the languid language of Mrs. Radcliffe and tempered it with the vicious cruelties of the Lewis set, the political musings of Godwin, and the surrealism of Godwin’s daughter, Mary Shelley. It is both indebted to the whole of the Gothic tradition, and hence considered the last of the great Gothic novels, and yet also an incredibly inventive and original piece of writing that is less the ‘last great Gothic novel’ and more the first in a new school that would eventually include such luminaries as Poe, Wilde, and even H. P. Lovecraft. It is also very much concerned with itself as a text, and its embedded narratives have impacted the whole of literature, whether through Maturin’s imitators or those who imitated his imitators. In fact, his format has to be read to be believed—it is a brave and eccentric way to tell a brave and eccentric story.Maturin’s Gothicism is high on theatrics, but also on subtle and sometimes overwhelmingly complex philosophy. A Protestant clergyman who moonlit as a writer of sensationalistic and sometimes overtly anti-religious fiction and drama, Maturin lived a life of contradictions. And above all, Melmoth the Wanderer explores the nature of religion in its rawest and ugliest of dimensions; seemingly a strictly anti-Catholic text, Melmoth reveals itself to have a beef with nearly every major religion, including Protestantism, and, at its heart, essentially every other aspect of the human experience. Maturin takes no prisoners. And though, in his dubious and distracting ‘footnotes,’ Maturin insinuates that the things coming out of his characters’ mouths (particularly the Wanderer’s) should not be taken for his own opinions, he has loaded his text with so many of these caustic observations that one cannot help but conclude that, even if he doesn’t agree with what he’s saying, it can hardly matter: his words stand alone. Whether Maturin intended his text to work on the levels that it does or not, Melmoth the Wanderer is a deeply antagonistic novel—not just in regard to religion, but in regard to nearly the whole of human history and thought. And, the contradiction to crown them all, it is also a book that revels in the beauty of religion at its purest: a kind of poisoned love-letter to the possibilities of justice in a world gone mad.Writers as diverse as Balzac, Dostoevsky, Oscar Wilde, and Vladimir Nabokov have referenced and admired Melmoth the Wanderer for its troubling, deeply romantic themes and its central character, who embodies them in the most hallucinatory and disturbing of ways. Melmoth, then, and Melmoth the Wanderer as a whole, serve as a mouthpiece for the rationalizations and, occasionally, the ravings of a man of uncommon considerations. It is a novel that out-Herods Herod at every available opportunity and also a novel of rare and almost incapacitating power. If a modern reader can manage to get along with its bizarre and maddening format of stories within stories, he will be rewarded with an experience that simply cannot be put out of mind: Melmoth is the stuff of nightmares, sure, but also of dreams—and visions.
    • 3/5
      Melmoth the Wanderer was a prominent ripple in the Romantic Era's flood of supernatural fiction. Devoured by schoolboys throughout the 19th Century, it gained a following abroad, too, most notably in France.Much though it appealed to the likes of Dante Gabriel Rosetti, Victor Hugo and Oscar Wilde, Melmoth has aged poorly. Today's reader is likely to find it slow-moving and prolix, as well as preachy to the point of self-parody. The author, the Rev. Charles Maturin, supplemented his meager clerical income by writing plays and novels. He feared, though, that such work would blight his career in the Church of England. That may be why he attached to this, his most popular, production an optimistic and unlikely moral. He took it from one of his own sermons, which he quotes in the novel's preface:"At this moment is there one of us present, however we may have departed from the Lord, disobeyed his will, and disregarded his word - is there one of us who would, at this moment, accept all that man could bestow, or earth afford, to resign the hope of his salvation? - No, there is not one - not such a fool on earth, were the enemy of mankind to traverse it with the offer!"The Wanderer, searching for a soul to accept that bargain, stalks through a series of nested tales, a longaevus with supernatural powers and human passions. His failures in his quest are mostly unbelievable, and there is much else to disparage: The prose, consistently overwritten, sometimes blots out the sense. Many of the characters are flat stereotypes. The author's smug anti-Catholicism grates. And the narrative stumbles to an unsatisfying stop, as if has filled its requisite number of pages and need not go on.Nonetheless, Baudelaire admired Maturin, and Honoré de Balzac called this book "the greatest creation of one of the greatest geniuses of Europe". If one makes the mental effort, it is possible to glimpse why.The title character, when not smothered in rhetorical excess, is a compelling figure: a Romantic anti-hero whose immense power is linked to despair. He has chosen to become an agent of evil, yet he retains a nostalgic sympathy for the mortals he is trying to entice into Hell. In the end, he cannot avoid falling in love, abandoning a nearly caught prey to Heaven, and yielding to old age and dissolution.Also, while much too lavish with words, Maturin is economical of special effects. He offers no profusion of horrors. Melmoth, the only supernatural being on stage, violates the laws of nature only infrequently and mostly between chapters. The dread that pervades the book rises from within the characters' minds rather than from without, and what they dread is what the young Romantics dreaded: monotony, conventionality and subordination, more than things that go bump in the night. Compared to the typical 19th Century Gothic, or 21st Century horror, novel, Melmoth is surprisingly sophisticated and subtle.So, while I cannot commend it with Balzac's enthusiasm, its appeal, though much faded, is not entirely gone.

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    Melmoth the Wanderer - Charles Maturin

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