Product Description

On a remote Greek Island, Nicholas Urfe finds himself embroiled in the deceptions of a master trickster. As reality and illusion intertwine, Urfe is caught up in the darkest of psychological games. John Fowles expertly unfolds a tale that is lush with over-powering imagery in a spellbinding exploration of human complexities. By turns disturbing, thrilling and seductive, "The Magus" is a feast for the mind and the senses.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #8486 in Books
• Published on: 2004-11-04
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 672 pages

Review
A major work of mounting tensions in which the human mind is the guinea-pig... Mr Fowles has taken a big swing at a difficult subject and his hits are on the bull's eye Sunday Telegraph A deliciously toothsome celebration of wanton story-telling Sunday Times A splendidly sustained piece of mystification Financial Times

About the Author
John Fowles was born in England in 1926 and educated at Bedford School and Oxford University. John Fowles won international recognition with his first published title, THE COLLECTOR (1963). He was immediately acclaimed as an outstandingly innovative writer of exceptional imaginative power and this reputation was confirmed with the appearance of his subsequent works. John Fowles died in 2005.

Customer Reviews

a familiar old place, often revisited, never quite the same
Like a lot of reviwers here, I've been re-reading the Magus at odd points throughout my life, probably about once every 10 years on average. I've always admired and enjoyed it, though not entirely uncritically, and have been fascinated at my own various reactions to it over the years, reflecting my own life experiences at given times.

I think it is essentially a novel best read for the first time in curious, impressionable, early adulthood. it definately helps to have a strong imaginative streak and your head more than a little in the clouds - I've recommended it to diehard pragmatists over the years who just don't get it at all.

Like most young people who liked the book it has turned into something of a landmark in my life - the first book which I genuinely felt opened up key areas of myself and got me thinking along more abstract lines. It let me fly, basically.

The last time I read it I had just turned 40 and realised for the first time that I could no longer really identify with Nicholas as a peer-group figure, which slightly saddened me, despite the fact that I have never particularly liked him.

It also drove home to me that it really is a book aimed directly at young people, about the whole process of growing up and realising that the world, and everything in it, is a limitless but mysterious place, beyond control and all the more intoxicating for it.

I also found myself, for the first time, being a bit annoyed by Fowles's rather irritating assumption of his readers background in classical mythology, French and Shakesperian tragedy; but I try to tell myself this only reflects the cultural and educational time in which it was written.

The Magus is, quite appropriately, many things: a coming of age story; an adventure; a mystery; a romance; an historical kalidiscope; an enlightenment; an enigma; a Pandora's Box. It is, most of all, a marvellous entertainment and an affirmation of the wonder and thrill of being young with everything to look forward to and everything to discover.

The next time I read it I will probably be middle-aged and identifying more with Conchis than with the bright young things. And maybe, like the old wizard, I too will start to take pleasure in watching youth in action, and how it can dance and take flight from the strings of others.

The most incredible book I have ever read
I first read The Magus when I was 19, and it shook my world immeasurably. I was given a copy of the original version by my father and it took over my life at the time. I remember coming off the train and reading it over dinner and then on into the early hours. On finishing it I immediately bought a copy of the revised version, and some years later re-read the original again. I envy people who embark on this literary journey for the first time, and would urge anyone who has not yet read this book to do so. It must be said however that this book is most suited for young men with a romantic nature, and not hardened cynics who prefer kitchen sink realism. This novel sparked in me a lifelong love of Greece, and encouraged me to search for and read other great novels. I particularly like Frank Delayney's The Amethysts and Pearl, Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks, anything by Milan Kundera and other Fowles novels Daniel Martin and The Collector. The Magus is the greatest of them all though...just close your eyes and imagine a deserted beach on a small Island in 1950's Greece, and the sense of anticipation when you return from your swim to find a book of poety left for you with a passage marked... 'We shall not cease from exploration'.

Fourth read - 25 years on. How stands the hill?
I have just read the Magus again, for the first time in about 7-8 years. It's the fourth time I've read the book now and I enjoy the different perspectives I get from it in relation to my own life experiences and how the book, its characters, incidents and themes now plays against the world we currently live in.

I've commented before on my general views of this book and the considerable effect it has had on me over the years. Rather than go over old ground in my reflections of it, I'd like to encapsulate my reactions to it as a reader in summer 2003, at the age of 47; about 25 years after I first read it.

Several things stand out:

For the first time it reads as a period novel. Not surprising given that it was published close on 40 years ago and takes place exactly 50 years ago. I say this not as a criticism; it is in fact all the better for it.

Reading it this time, I realised forcibly how the influence of political correctness has really taken hold of writing and thinking over the last decade. There are parts of The Magus that you know would simply not have been written as they are if first published today. This is no bad thing; I'm not entirely in favour of all aspects of PC (to quote Conchis, it needs to 'learn to smile'); but Nicholas's reactions to race and women in particular now brand him so much a creature of his time in ways that hadn't fully struck me before. His constant references to Joe as the 'Negro', his frequent intimidation and even violence towards women; these aspects for the first time conjure up a culturally far-away world - making The Magus now very much a novel of its time, despite the undoubted timelessness and universality of most of its themes. (And yes, I know that the book is, ultimately, a riposte to sexism and racism, and in many ways heralds an era of racial and sexual enlightenment long before it ever actually came about.)

I was also aware of how the book needs the literal remoteness of its time for Chonchis's 'godgame' to feasibly work. Can you imagine Nicholas being so successfully duped in this modern era of high-tech information technology; how he could possibly have had all his lines of enquiry stifled if he had a PC, internet access, e-mail and mobile phone so easily to hand? Not to mention thousands of tourists charging around his timeless island retreat! In the global village that we now live in the 1950s stands as the last era of genuine physical remoteness in the world (John Fowles briefly reflects on this in his 1976 revised edition).

I realise now that many of Conchis's philosophical musings are so much hot air and deliberate obfuscation. In the past I took his sayings seriously, now I think they're funny - and meant to be funny! He's just playing with gullible, pretentious young Nicholas.

The Magus remains a wonderfully engaging and thought provoking read. The ability to pick it up at after many years and either get new things from it or react to it in different ways is one of its great joys. These reactions tell you a lot about yourself, and the world we live in, and how both have changed over the years. It really is a book for life, which should be first encountered young and then taken out and enjoyed sparingly but profoundly.