Vathek (Barnes & Noble Digital Library)

By William Beckford

This 1786 Gothic extravaganza, originally published anonymously, concerns the wicked Caliph Vathek. Vathek is addicted to power, pleasure, and, like Faust, knowledge.  Like Faust, too, his pursuit of knowledge, via supernatural means, leads him not to the exalted heights he desires but instead to the torments of hell. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barnes & Noble
• Release date: Mar 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781411444072

Book preview

VATHEK

WILLIAM BECKFORD

This 2011 edition published by Barnes & Noble, Inc.

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THE HISTORY OF THE CALIPH VATHEK

VATHEK, ninth Caliph¹ of the race of the Abassides, was the son of Motassem, and the grandson of Haroun Al Raschid. From an early accession to the throne, and the talents he possessed to adorn it, his subjects were induced to expect that his reign would be long and happy. His figure was pleasing and majestic; but when he was angry one of his eyes became so terrible² that no person could bear to behold it, and the wretch upon whom it was fixed instantly fell backward, and sometimes expired. For fear, however, of depopulating his dominions, and making his palace desolate, he but rarely gave way to his anger.

Being much addicted to women and the pleasures of the table, he sought by his affability to procure agreeable companions; and he succeeded the better as his generosity was unbounded, and his indulgences unrestrained, for he was by no means scrupulous, nor did he think with the Caliph Omar Ben Abdalaziz,³ that it was necessary to make a hell of this world to enjoy Paradise in the next.

He surpassed in magnificence all his predecessors. The palace of Alkoremmi, which his father Motassem had erected on the hill of Pied Horses, and which commanded the whole city of Samarah,⁴ was in his idea far too scanty; he added therefore five wings, or rather other palaces, which he designed for the particular gratification of each of his senses.

In the first of these were tables continually covered with the most exquisite dainties, which were supplied both by night and by day according to their constant consumption, whilst the most delicious wines and the choicest cordials flowed forth from a hundred fountains that were never exhausted. This palace was called The Eternal or Unsatiating Banquet.

The second was styled The Temple of Melody, or the Nectar of the Soul. It was inhabited by the most skilful musicians and admired poets of the time, who not only displayed their talents within, but, dispersing in bands without, caused every surrounding scene to reverberate their songs, which were continually varied in the most delightful succession.⁵

The palace named The Delight of the Eyes, or the Support of Memory, was one entire enchantment. Rarities collected from every corner of the earth were there found in such profusion as to dazzle and confound, but for the order in which they were arranged. One gallery exhibited the pictures of the celebrated Mani, and statues that seemed to be alive. Here a well-managed perspective attracted the sight, there the magic of optics agreeably deceived it; whilst the naturalist on his part exhibited, in their several classes, the various gifts that Heaven had bestowed on our globe. In a word, Vathek omitted nothing in this palace that might gratify the curiosity of those who resorted to it, although he was not able to satisfy his own, for he was of all men the most curious.

The Palace of Perfumes, which was termed likewise The Incentive to Pleasure, consisted of various halls where the different perfumes which the earth produces were kept perpetually burning in censers of gold. Flambeaux and aromatic lamps were here lighted in open day. But the too powerful effects of this agreeable delirium might be avoided by descending into an immense garden, where an assemblage of every fragrant flower diffused through the air the purest odours.

The fifth palace, denominated The Retreat of Joy, or the Dangerous, was frequented by troops of young females beautiful as the houris⁶ and not less seducing, who never failed to receive with caresses all whom the Caliph allowed to approach them; for he was by no means disposed to be jealous, as his own women were secluded within the palace he inhabited himself.

Notwithstanding the sensuality in which Vathek indulged, he experienced no abatement in the love of his people, who thought that a sovereign immersed in pleasure was not less tolerable to his subjects than one that employed himself in creating them foes. But the unquiet and impetuous disposition of the Caliph would not allow him to rest there; he had studied so much for his amusement in the lifetime of his father as to acquire a great deal of knowledge, though not a sufficiency to satisfy himself; for he wished to know everything, even sciences that did not exist. He was fond of engaging in disputes with the learned, but liked them not to push their opposition with warmth; he stopped the mouths of those with presents whose mouths could be stopped, whilst others, whom his liberality was unable to subdue, he sent to prison to cool their blood; a remedy that often succeeded.

Vathek discovered also a predilection for theological controversy, but it was not with the orthodox that he usually held. By this means he induced the zealots to oppose him, and then persecuted them in return; for he resolved at any rate to have reason on his side.

The great prophet Mahomet, whose vicars the caliphs are, beheld with indignation from his abode in the seventh heaven the irreligious conduct of such a vicegerent. Let us leave him to himself, said he to the genii, who are always ready to receive his commands; "let us see to what lengths his folly and impiety will carry him; if he run into excess we shall know how to chastise him. Assist him, therefore, to complete the tower⁷ which, in imitation of Nimrod, he hath begun, not, like that great warrior, to escape being drowned, but from the insolent curiosity of penetrating the secrets of Heaven; he will not divine the fate that awaits him."

The Genii obeyed, and when the workmen had raised their structure a cubit in the daytime, two cubits more were added in the night. The expedition with which the fabric arose was not a little flattering to the vanity of Vathek. He fancied that even insensible matter showed a forwardness to subserve his designs, not considering that the successes of the foolish and wicked form the first rod of their chastisement.

His pride arrived at its height when, having ascended for the first time the eleven thousand stairs of his tower, he cast his eyes below and beheld men not larger than pismires, mountains than shells, and cities than bee-hives.

The idea which such an elevation inspired of his own grandeur completely bewildered him; he was almost ready to adore himself, till, lifting his eyes upward, he saw the stars as high above him as they appeared when he stood on the surface of the earth. He consoled himself, however, for this transient perception of his littleness, with the thought of being great in the eyes of others, and flattered himself that the light of his mind would extend beyond the reach of his sight, and transfer to the stars the decrees of his destiny.

With this view the inquisitive Prince passed most of his nights on the summit of his tower, till he became an adept in the mysteries of astrology, and imagined that the planets had disclosed to him the most marvellous adventures, which were to be accomplished by an extraordinary personage from a country altogether unknown.

Prompted by motives of curiosity he had always been courteous to strangers, but from this instant he redoubled his attention, and ordered it to be announced by sound of trumpet through all the streets of Samarah that no one of his subjects, on peril of displeasure, should either lodge or detain a traveller, but forthwith bring him to the palace.

Not long after this proclamation there arrived in his metropolis a man so hideous, that the very guards who arrested him were forced to shut their eyes as they led him along.

The Caliph himself appeared startled at so horrible a visage, but joy succeeded to this emotion of terror when the stranger displayed to his view such rarities as he had never before seen, and of which he had no conception.

In reality nothing was ever so extraordinary as the merchandise this stranger produced; most of his curiosities, which were not less admirable for their workmanship than splendour, had besides their several virtues described on a parchment fastened to each. There were slippers which enabled the feet to walk; knives that cut without the motion of a hand; sabres which dealt the blow at the person they were wished to strike, and the whole enriched with gems that were hitherto unknown.

The sabres, whose blades emitted a dazzling radiance, fixed more than all the Caliph's attention, who promised himself to decipher at his leisure the uncouth characters engraven on their sides. Without, therefore demanding their price he ordered all the coined gold to be brought from his treasury, and commanded the merchant to take what he pleased. The stranger complied with modesty and silence.

Vathek, imagining that the merchant's taciturnity was occasioned by the awe which his presence inspired, encouraged him to advance, and asked him, with an air of condescension, Who he was? whence he came? and where he obtained such beautiful commodities?

The man, or rather monster, instead of making a reply, thrice rubbed his forehead, which, as well as his body, was blacker than ebony; four times clapped his paunch, the projection of which was enormous; opened wide his huge eyes, which glowed like firebrands; began to laugh with a hideous noise, and discovered his long amber-coloured teeth bestreaked with green.

The Caliph, though a little startled, renewed his inquiries, but without being able to procure a reply; at which, beginning to be ruffled, he exclaimed:

Knowest thou, varlet, who I am? and at whom thou art aiming thy gibes? Then, addressing his guards:

Have ye heard him speak? is he dumb?

He hath spoken, they replied, though but little.

Let him speak again, then, said Vathek, and tell me who he is, whence he came, and where he procured these singular curiosities, or I swear by the ass of Balaam that I will make him rue his pertinacity.

The menace was accompanied by the Caliph with one of his angry and perilous glances, which the stranger sustained without the slightest emotion, although his eyes were fixed on the terrible eye of the Prince.

No words can describe the amazement of the courtiers when they beheld this rude merchant withstand the encounter unshocked. They all fell prostrate with their faces on the ground to avoid the risk of their lives, and continued in the same abject posture till the Caliph exclaimed in a furious tone:

Up, cowards! seize the miscreant! see that he be committed to prison and guarded by the best of my soldiers! Let him, however, retain the money I gave him; it is not my intent to take from him his property, I only want him to speak.

No sooner had he uttered these words than the stranger was surrounded, pinioned with strong fetters, and hurried away to the prison of the great tower, which was encompassed by seven empalements of iron bars, and armed with spikes in every direction longer and sharper than spits.

The Caliph, nevertheless, remained in the most violent agitation; he sat down indeed to eat, but of the three hundred covers that were daily placed before him could taste of no more than thirty-two. A diet to which he had been so little accustomed was sufficient of itself to prevent him from sleeping; what then must be its effect when joined to the anxiety that preyed upon his spirits? At the first glimpse of dawn he hastened to the prison, again to importune this intractable stranger; but the rage of Vathek exceeded all bounds on finding the prison empty, the gates burst asunder, and his guards lying lifeless around him. In the paroxysm of his passion he fell furiously on the poor carcasses, and kicked them till evening without intermission. His courtiers and vizirs exerted their efforts to soothe his extravagance, but finding every expedient ineffectual they all united in one vociferation:

The Caliph is gone mad! the Caliph is out of his senses!

This outcry, which soon resounded through the streets of Samarah, at length reaching the ears of Carathis, his mother; she flew in the utmost consternation to try her ascendency on the mind of her son. Her tears and caresses called off his attention, and he was prevailed upon by her entreaties to be brought back to the palace.

Carathis, apprehensive of leaving Vathek to himself, caused him to be put to bed, and seating herself by him, endeavoured by her conversation to heal and compose him. Nor could anyone have attempted it with better success, for the Caliph not only loved her as a mother, but respected her as a person of superior genius; it was she who had

Reviews for Vathek (Barnes & Noble Digital Library)

[yarb_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Completely preposterous and not in a good way. I can see why this orgy of Oriental tropes would have been exciting to an 18th century European reader high on the Arabian Nights and hungry for more genies, giaours, dives, and dwarfs. It's a nauseating banquet of sherbets and cordials, served by massed ranks of eunuchs, mystics, and sacrificial first-borns, a horrible literary carbuncle melting down into a bilious slurry where plot decoheres and characters implode under the weight of their own absurdity.Here's Vathek's mom preparing a magic potion:By secret stairs, known only to herself and her son, she first repaired to the mysterious recesses in which were deposited the mummies that had been brought from the catacombs of the ancient Pharaohs. Of these she ordered several to be taken. From thence she resorted to a gallery, where, under the guard of fifty female negroes, mute, and blind of the right eye, were preserved the oil of the most venomous serpents, rhinoceros’ horns, and woods of a subtle and penetrating odour, procured from the interior of the Indies, together with a thousand other horrible rarieties. This collection had been formed for a purpose like the present, by Carathis herself, from a presentiment that she might one day enjoy some intercourse with the infernal powers, to whom she had ever been passionately attached, and to whose taste she was no stranger.

[kristelh_15 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Rating 3.6Vathek : An Arabian Tale by William Beckford, written when he was just 21 in 1782. It is a combination of a Gothic novel and Orientalism. The 18/19century was noted for an obsession of all things Oriental. Vathek is the 9th Caliph of Abassides and is addicted to the pursuit of pleasures for all his senses. His major sin is gluttony. Carathis is his evil mother who is knowledgeable in science and occult. Vathek meets up with a Indian merchant called Giaour who is really a Jinn. From that point Vathek engages in all kinds of horrors and eventually goes on a quest of of the throne of Soliman. During this quest he mistreats a host, Emir Fakreddin by taking his daughter Nouronihar. They finally arrive and find that the quest has led them to a place of great loss -- the loss of hope. A quick read that is strongly influenced by literature such as Paradise Lost and has also influence other works of literature.

[cecrow · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Vathek does a credible job of capturing the Arabian Nights tone and lush descriptive passages, based on my faint recollection. Anything mixing this and the Gothic is liable to turn incredible in places - and it does - testing a reader's patience if it's taken too seriously. But the story is still very determined to take itself seriously, notwithstanding. It never descends into comedy, and the drama can take some very dark turns as Vathek seeks out power above and beyond what he already enjoys as caliph. Given that he already has it all, and yet he's still tempted by infernal means of acquiring more, it's practically impossible to find any sympathy for him. His intermittent episodes of remorse are so impromptu and brief, and his chances to recant so many, he can't even be viewed as a victim of irresistible circumstance (or of his mother). Beckford was writing at the height (circa 1790 to 1800) of the gothic period, while Anne Radcliffe was enjoying her throne as England's pre-eminent author before modern fiction began to take over. Even so, Vathek arguably does not fit completely into the gothic genre. It's more clearly bent towards adopting an Oriental storytelling tradition, which it is said to do remarkably well. It's an oddity among English literature and it continues to stand out today accordingly. Whether it's actually still enjoyable to read without knowing this context is another question given its preposterous plotting, unlikely events and too-plain moral. I had to drag myself through it, but I'd still take this over Radcliffe any day.

[joe73-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Good story. For the time it was written in, it could be a story right out of The Arabian Nights. Vathek is despicable as is his mother.

[lgandt · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

The best part was the last 2 chapters. Just couldn't get into this one. The imagery is wonderful, but all I got from this was a bit of preaching at the end and a seemingly endless feast of food, which was fine but made me hungry.

[philsyphe · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Four years have passed since I read “Vathek” and I remember very little about it.What I do recall is that it was slow, tedious, and neither characters nor plot engaged me at all.

[dreesie-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A very Gothic late 18th century book. Caliph Vathek and his mother Catharis rule a middle eastern caliphate (?). They want power and riches, and the Genie Giaour promises it to them. There is clearly something evil going on, as Vathek gives some of the best children of his ruling to the Giaour. He then meets and falls for Nouronihar (and she for him), an emir's daughter, on a trip. He separates her from her dear cousin Gulchenrouz.Nouronihar follows Vathek. They get what they want, and so does Catharis, but it is not what they were expecting. A story about what unrestrained passions, atrocious actions, and blind ambition get you in the end.

[bayardus-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Almost works as a self-parody. Almost. And it's clear that this wasn't intentional on the part of Beckford.

[jbd1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Certainly one the odder books I've had the pleasure of reading, I can say that for it. Mostly just didn't manage to keep my interest very well, but there were some brief moments that shone through. The introduction in the edition I read, by Roger Lonsdale, was quite good, but I disliked how the annotations were handled.

[kant1066 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

William Beckford, the author of “Vathek,” led a rather remarkable life – so remarkable, in fact, that reviewers and critics are left baffled at how to interpret it other than reading it as a sort of fantastic confabulation of his life. He was born in 1760, son of the two-time Lord Mayor of London; at the tender age of ten years, his father died and left him one of the richest men in the entire country. This allowed him to pursue his interests in art, architecture, and travel, all of which he did on grand scales. His tastes were just as spectacular as his wealth, acquiring over the course of his life Giovanni Bellini’s “Agony in the Garden,” Raphael’s “Saint Catherine of Alexandria,” and Velazquez’s “Philip IV in Brown and Silver.” He took music lessons from Mozart. After very possibly having an affair with his cousin’s wife, as well as another with a boy who just happened to be the son of William Courtenay, Ninth Earl of Devon, he exiled himself to the Continent, where he lived most of his life. Vathek was written in 1781 or 1782, while Beckford was in his early twenties. It has heavy Gothic influences, but is very recognizable as one of the “Oriental tales” of which the English reading public could hardly get enough of at the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth centuries. Beckford originally wrote the book in French, only later to have it translated into English by Samuel Henley in 1786 and published by Oxford World Classics. However grotesque and bizarre the story, two of its central characters are historical. Vathek is based on al-Wathiq, an Abbasid caliph and grandson of Harun al-Rashid, and his mother Carathis is based on al-Wathiq’s mother, Qaratis. That’s where all historical resemblances end, however. Goaded on by his mother, Vathek seeks out occult learning in the sciences, astronomy, and other “black arts” that shock some of his fellow Muslims, including his counselor-vizier Morakanabad and the eunuch Bababalouk. He is tempted by a demon named Giaour who promises him riches beyond belief in a Palace of Subterranean Fire, and does a number of heinous things to please Giaour, including tossing fifty beautiful boys to appease its bloodlust. Vathek then meets the kind, pious Emir Fakreddin, and quickly falls in love with his daughter Nouronihar, who is already betrothed to her young cousin Gulchenrouz. Vathek’s infatuation excites Nouronihar, however, and seems equally greedy for the treasures in the Palace of Subterranean Fire. They eventually reach the Palace, ruled by Iblis (the Devil of Islamic mythology), but it turns out to be something that more resembles Dante than any kind of heavenly reward. Carathis soon joys them there, explicitly having abandoned all Hope, one assumes for eternity.Because of all the action that takes place in an extremely short novel (this version clocks in right at 120 pages), its pace can seem hurried, confused, and frantic. This is understandable since, in several places, Beckford cites having written it in either two or three days. “Vathek” mostly seems to be a vehicle for Beckford to bandy about his criticisms of middle-class English mores and sexual morality (Nouronihar’s love interest, Gulchenrouz, is often referred to as “feminine” and “effete.”) It can just as easily be read as a very young Beckford trying to come to terms with how he sees himself and his ambitions in relation to those of society less forgiving of thoroughgoing aesthetes. Because of its length, I would recommend this for anyone interested in the ever-popular Georgian-era Oriental tale mixed with high Gothic romance. I don’t think anyone has ever accused Beckford of being a great writer – but it is not without interest, even if it is only the interest of the fascinating eccentric who wrote it.

[jmoncton_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

After reading this book, I have to question why it was selected as one of the 1001 books to read before you die. I read this in online installments - maybe it would have been better in audio or paper... I could see how the whole plot was farcical, but unlike other books of that genre like Candide, I didn't see the point. Definitely could have used some Cliff Notes to accompany this one...

[hadriantheblind · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

What an unusual book. One of the first Gothic novels. Very orientalist.

[cammykitty · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Imagine a Heironymous Bosch painting with Caliphs and harem girls instead of the usual tortured Christians. Imagine this painting is a cautionary tale about how a debauched Caliph follows riches all the way to Castle Eblis (the devil). Yup, you've got Vathek - but Vathek isn't a painting, and it wasn't written by Bosch. It doesn't have the Bosch spark of genius that makes us wanted to look at the tortured freaks being tortured freakishly.

[veilofisis · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Surely few stranger works of fiction exist in the annals of Romantic literature than William Beckford’s dreamy, opulent, and hypnotically weird Vathek. An undeniable and outrageous breed of almost slapstick comedy mingles like wine in water with scenes of utter blasphemy and perversion. Our eponymous Caliph Vathek, tempted by the sprawling subterranean riches of Eblis (the Islamic demon par excellence), wanders a one-way path to absolute damnation in one of the most meandering and scandalous journeys of self-destruction ever penned. Supreme destination: a climax of hearts exploding into smokeless fire. A parade of phantasmagoria smatters the narrative with strange and delightful diversions: pious dwarves bearing baskets of fruit and chirping incessantly, to the great annoyance of our Caliph, their Qur’anic verses; saucy women tricking eunuchs into flinging about on swings in a perfumed harem; great feasts, examined in exacting detail, of everything from roasted wolves and boiled thistles to pistachio-stuffed lamb and drugged sherbets; an entire city kicking about a goblin who has curled into a ball and taken to rolling about through the streets of Samarra and eventually over a cliff; a woman burning bits and pieces of mummies, rhinoceros horns, and human beings on a pyre atop a dizzyingly high tower to placate the forces of evil; divining fish; one-eyed deaf mutes getting lusty with ghouls who have risen drowsily from the grave to feast on fresh corpses. This is definitely not Aladdin.Like so many other curiosities in literature, from Byron to Melmoth the Wanderer, Vathek is all the more entrancing when its unique and sometimes uncomfortably personal relationship with its author is taken into account. Its influence on the Gothic genre as a whole is evident from the first paragraph, where we are introduced to our naughty Caliph’s ability to strike men dead with a single ‘terrible’ gaze. This absurd and yet ultimately captivating sense of wonder pervades Vathek like the cloying, and yet rapturous, odor of heady rosewater. A treat for reflective minds and those interested in literary theatrics both, I count myself an ardent admirer.(A brief note on translations: Vathek was originally written, despite Beckford’s English heritage, in French. Quite fitting, really. As it stands, this is not Les Miserables, and translations of Vathek are not dramatically varying in terms of quality. That said, the translation widely available in paperback from Penguin or Oxford is admirable and a great read, but if you can track down a copy of The Folio Society’s reprint of the 1929 Grimsditch translation, you will do yourself even better. The differences are quite subtle, but they might be the difference between appreciating the novel and ‘not getting it.’ Best not to take any chances, because, and I’ll say it one last time, this is gloriously weird stuff and well worth your time.)

[amydross · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Although fascinating as a document of its time and British preoccupations with fantasies of the orient, I don't think this can be considered great literature. The prose is, at its best, serviceable.

[coffeezombie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Strange Arabian fantasia that tells the story of a caliph who overthrows all that is sacred in the pursuit of dark powers and entry into the underworld. Basic morality tale told with beautiful passages and great imagination.

[elizabethchapman · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The novel Vatek was an 18th century "cult classic," revered by Byron and later Poe, Mallarme, and Swinburne. It is a fantastical tale originally written in French by William Beckford -- "England's wealthiest son" -- at the age of twenty-one.Beckforth, inspired by the Arabian Nights and the idea of oriental exoticism, created Vatkek as an homage to Persian folk tales and as a self-indulgent escapist fantasy.Filled with splendid palaces, treasures beyond price, vengeful demons, dark magic, eroticism, and wild adventure, "Vatek" is an over-wrought confection. It's long description passages and jumbled plot make it a dizzying read -- inducing both confusion and enchantment. Whether pleasure or frustration takes the upper hand for you will depend on your personal taste.

[wubsy_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What? This novel is enchantingly bizarre, and the episodes in hell are brilliant, but too much of the first part of the novel is wrapped up in over descriptive paragraphs of the sublime, which quickly bored me. It is however, an at times outlandishly evocative novel, and one that I enjoyed.

[plappen_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Vathek was Caliph in the area of approximately present-day Iraq, at some unknown time in the past. He was generally a fair person, but woe unto him who got Vathek angry. He lived in an immense castle, with the absolute finest of everything. One day, a very strange, and very ugly, man stood before his throne. He had a hideous laugh, but didn’t speak. He showed Vathek all manner of rare and exotic items, including sabers inscribed in an unknown language, inscriptions which kept changing from day to day. The stranger was thrown in prison for his unwillingness to speak. The next morning, finding the stranger gone, Vathek totally blows his top.Finding himself outside the castle, at the foot of the nearby mountains, Vathek hears a voice coming out of a huge crevasse. It is the stranger, called a giaour, who promises Vathek all the powers of heaven in exchange for the blood of fifty young boys. Vathek provides the boys, through the guise of a sporting competition, then the giaour reneges on its part of the deal. When the people, especially the parents, understand what’s happened, Vathek has to get back to the castle and lock the doors, until the anger subsides.Later, Vathek commands the creation of a great caravan to a place called Rocnabad, home of famous springs. For various reasons, he needs to get away from the castle for a while. This is going to be the biggest, and grandest, caravan ever. On the journey, the caravan is attacked by wild animals, with a number of casualties. Vathek, his wives and senior advisers, can no longer be carried the rest of the way, because of lack of personnel, but actually have to walk to Rocnabad.At Rocnabad, there is a castle as big or bigger than the one that Vathek left behind. He meets a young woman named Nouronihar, who he wants as one of his wives (as Caliph, what Vathek wants, Vathek gets). She is promised to a man named Gulchenrouz. The lovers drink a potion that will make them look dead for several days, then, the idea is that they go and live somewhere else, away from Vathek.This is one of the very few novels set in the world of the Arabian Nights, a world of eunuchs, slaves and harem girls. It was first published over 200 years ago (in the 1780s), so the style of writing is very different than what is normal for a modern reader. Therefore, it will take some patience on the part of the reader. If you can find a copy, it is time, and money, very well spent.

[ysabeau_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Before there was Clark Ashton Smith, there was William Beckford. Without him, Oscar Wilde would have been nothing...Even Byron rode on Beckford's coat-tails. (Well--maybe)

[ragwaine · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The other stories were better than the original Vathek. It's hard to get into a story where you hate the main character. But it was very colorful and exotic. The writing was a bit purple but I like that.

[bcquinnsmom · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An interesting tale, Vathek is the story of the Caliph of the same name, who is tempted by a demon named the Giaour. Vathek had been well liked by his subjects and left the occult dabbling to his mother up until this time. The Giaour came to Vathek's palace one day promising him wealth & power & secret talismans by which to rule the world. All of this temptation was too much for the poor Caliph; with his mother offering agreement, Vathek is told to travel to a place called Istakar where he would receive his reward. Along the way he picks up a young woman named Nouronihar, whose greed & desire for power matches his own. This book tells of their adventures.A very moralistic tale, and one for which many others have made comments since its writing, I thought it was quite good. A very brief read (this edition, the Oxford World's Classics, tells the tale in 120 pages), it is a classic.