. . . its events could have taken place only in a world where man considers himself superior to woman. In what the Americans call "a man's world." That is, a world governed by brute force, humourless arrogance, illusory prestige and primeval stupidity. (M 420)
"Un débauché de profession est rarement un homme pitoyable": this epigraph from the Marquis de Sade has been the root of much attention for The Magus. The De Sade epigraph has been used in arguments both attacking and defending the protagonist, Nicholas Urfe. However, in defining Fowles's feminism, one must regard the epigraph for what it is, a warning to the reader not to become enslaved to the protagonist's self-pity and self-justification, but rather to judge Nicholas's character and actions from an objective distance. Considering Fowles's view that "common man is the curse of civilization . . . And he needs education, not adulation" [emphasis added](CO 219), one can see the same idea being developed in the novel. The narrator uses his distance from the action to comment on his decisions. Such narration suggests that there are two Nicholases, an early Nicholas and an older one who has become more authentic. Even though the novel is a type of confession, Nicholas's character remains under close scrutiny at the end of the novel. That Nicholas's and Alison's future is uncertain forces the reader to consider what has occurred throughout novel.
Structuring the novel in three parts, London-Greece-London, Fowles suggests a circular movement through space; however, thematically the return to London presents a "new" Nicholas. To make sure that this movement is noticed, Fowles uses a few lines from Eliot's "Little Gidding": ". . . to arrive where we started/And know the place for the first time"(M 71). The development of Nicholas and, to a certain extent the reader, is the central concern of the novel. That the action of the central portion of the novel takes place on an island suggests that the "island" of the self is where one is able to combat the nemo. What Fowles attempts to explain is the necessary procedures for educating the "Adam-consciousness" out of society.
Examining the power relations in The Magus, this chapter addresses Fowles's idea of feminism, his desire for an "Eve-consciousness". First, the narratology of the novel, the use of mise-en-abyme and the open ending, reveal several themes of the novel, most importantly the need for plurality. That the novel is, in Foucault's terms, a "confession" enables Fowles to suggest his own views on feminism and society and to foreground the reader's responsibility. To understand fully the importance of Nicholas's education in relation to Fowles's feminist concerns, one must investigate Conchis's role in the process. The second aspect of this chapter focuses on Conchis as the voice of the "educated" male, the male who has confronted the "nemo" and drained the "calibanity" from his self. What these investigations lead to is Fowles's own politics and feminism. Because of the process that Nicholas undergoes, the idea of the "few" and the "elect" is considered both in social and political terms. That Nicholas is "elect" suggests his character has potential to become aware of his "calibanity." His education is the most important aspect of creating a healthy society. Yet, it is not only Nicholas who is educated, but also Alison. The education of Nicholas and Alison and the coming of the "new magus" are the final concerns of this chapter. The narrator now has the part of "magus" and attempts to educate his audience by re-creating the maze that he himself has gone through.
One of the most complex features of The Magus is the narrative technique employed by Fowles. The narrator, Nicholas, looks back on his life and his role in the "godgame," commenting on his decisions and actions from an "objective" distance. Creating somewhat of a confession, Nicholas includes Conchis's narratives to illustrate his own development. This Chinese-box structure, along with the openness of the ending, both commonplace in postmodern fiction, allows the reader to become a participant, creating a two-way discourse. The novel becomes what Catherine Belsey calls an "interrogative text . . . invit[ing] the reader to produce answers"(91). Through the narratology of The Magus Fowles is able to foreground his political philosophy concerning power struggles.
The opening paragraph of the novel introduces not only the subject of the discourse but also the object of it. The first-person pronoun suggests that the narrator and protagonist are one and the same; however, there is a distinction between the two. After being told that Nicholas was born of middle-class parents and attended a public school, the narrator emphasizes the fact that at Oxford he "began to discover that [he] was not the person [he] wanted to be"(M 17). This suggests that the character undergoes some form of development, for it appears that the narrator intends to discuss his growth. Distinguishing between the naive Nicholas and the experienced narrator is essential to understanding the novel.
Michel Foucault says that the confession is a "ritual of discourse in which the speaking subject is also the subject of the statement"(1978 61) and that it produces "intrinsic modifications" (1978 62) in the speaker. What occurs in The Magus is Nicholas's initiation into the "elect." Again, the use of the confession suggests that there are two different time periods employed. The time lapse between Nicholas's visit to Greece and his re-telling of his initiation is not stated, but it certainly is considerably later. He says of Greece: "It took me many months to understand this, and many years to accept it"(M 51). The use of binaries in the novel reinforces the dual identity of Nicholas. At school, Nicholas led "two lives"(M 18) and Alison had "two voices"(M 26). That Alison is included in the binary is discussed later in reference to her development.
An important aspect of the pluralism of the novel is the role of the reader. Again, considering Foucault's ideas on confession, the reader is included not only in the process of constructing the novel but is given the privilege of authority. Foucault says that confession is
a ritual that unfolds within a power relationship, for one does not confess without the presence (or virtual presence) of a partner who is not simply the interlocutor but the authority who requires the confession, prescribes and appreciates it, and intervenes in order to judge, punish, forgive, console, and reconcile.(1978 61-62)
The authority in The Magus, in terms of its use as a confession, would be the reader who "hears" Nicholas's story. Having read the text, the reader then is obliged to respond to the ideas that Fowles has laid bare if the novel is to work. In The Aristos Fowles says, "I state; you, if you wish, refute"(A 13). This idea recurs in his novels as well. Not only is the reader forced to contemplate Fowles's own views, or politics, but also to re-consider his or her own.
The text draws the reader into an active role using a "mystery-story" plot, raising interest in the "godgame," practically forcing him or her to play along with Nicholas. It is understood that the narrator is aware of all the events that occurred at Bourani, but he retells them the way they happened, revealing a little of the mystery each time. The suspense created by such a technique engages the reader in the action. The novel becomes absorbed in what can be called Fowles's socialism. Particularly, the idea of individual freedom within society is foregrounded in the novel; thus the reader's own views are brought into question in the novel. The two main ways that Fowles presents his own definition of feminism in the novel are through the characters of Nicholas and Alison. Conchis is important in this aspect as well, but this is discussed later in conjunction with Nicholas's education.
Nested in the narrative of Nicholas's experiences is the story of the magus, Conchis. Described as having the eyes of a "chess player who has made a good move"(M 87), this surrogate author is central to the book. Aspects of his past are presented throughout the novel, exposing the process through which he himself has learned to be elect. His retelling of these events demonstrate Conchis's new role as the magus, his responsibility to educate others. Unlike Nicholas, who is introduced as wanting some noble ancestry, Conchis claims that he has "forgotten" his English name. The contrast between these two characters establishes the central issue of power-relations in the novel by polarizing the two extremes: the Adam and Eve figures. Conchis presents himself as Prospero controlling his domain, whereas Nicholas characterizes himself as "not the person [he] wanted to be"(M 17) in the beginning. The purpose of Conchis's character in the novel is twofold: he acts as "divine" intervention in Nicholas's life while exemplifying the product of the education process.
Conchis's story is presented as a narrative foil to that of Nicholas. Three episodes are particularly relevant: the loaded dice experience in World War One, the religious experience at Seidevarre, and finally the experience in World War Two when Conchis is faced with having to kill the Greek prisoners. Although the novel is primarily concerned with Nicholas and his education, Conchis himself has been through a parallel process of learning. Fashioned as a mise-en-abyme, Conchis's narrative is a "nested or embedded representation, occupying a narrative level inferior to that of the primary . . . narrative . . . this nested representation resembles . . . something at the level of the primary . . . world"(McHale 124). By establishing Conchis as a man who has recognized his own potential, his right to be the magus, Fowles implies that Nicholas's education will help him to do the same.
Conchis's experiences during World War One force him to see war as a play "on our pride in our own free will"(M 125). Although such a statement appears ambiguous, Conchis clarifies it when discussing the "loaded dice" that he presented to Nicholas. He says: "'Patriotism, propaganda, professional honour, esprit de corps--what are all those things? Cogged dice"(M 129). Clearly Conchis is commenting on the impact that national ideology has on society, especially during wartime. Moreover, he is attacking the power that ideology has over one's own freedom of choice. Concerned with action, the emphasis in The Magus is "quite clearly on beginnings, not endings [but] on the moment of choice which initiates action"(Olshen 919). Conchis attacks such an ideology when he says that "it was a thousand times better that England should be a Prussian colony" than to have a "butcher's shop of war"(M 127). Conchis developed a "mad lust not to be killed"(M 127) during the war. What he indicates by these comments is the essential desire of an individual, the desire to live; "[t]he word 'being' [is] no longer passive . . . but [becomes] active"(M 133). The result is the defeated nemo, the knowledge that "we [do] not 'not exist'"(A 49).
Conchis's visit to Seidevarre is the second experience that has an important influence on him: it presents a complicated "religious" ceremony that helps to define the meaning of the word "elect." When Nygaard is sighted at the water's edge, Conchis understands the power of Nygaard's beliefs: "He was meeting God"(M 314). Something was happening to Nygaard that only he could understand. Conchis realizes that he, too, could have a similar experience, an epiphany, for on that night he "bridged a dozen years"(M 315). This moment of recognition for Conchis forced him to reconsider reality, not in a spiritual way, but in a way that allowed mystery. Henrik Nygaard shows Conchis the meaning of freedom and the truth of authenticity. "'Henrik was a Jansenist, he believed in a divine cruelty'"(M 308), Conchis states. Through election Nygaard believed that he was "chosen to be punished and tormented"(M 308). However, what he did not understand was that "destiny is hazard"(M 308). The concern with punishment and cruelty plays an important part in Nicholas's education as well.
The final experience that helps to form Conchis as the magus occurs during World War Two. Specifically, it is the incident when he is called upon to execute the Greek prisoners that establishes Conchis's new philosophy. After being ordered to execute the prisoners, Conchis holds the gun up "blindly" and shoots. The unloaded gun does not fire and he realizes that he is meant to club the prisoners to death. What forces Conchis to decide not to kill the prisoners is a word that he heard one of the guerillas yell: "Eleutheria: freedom"(M 441). This is the epiphany Conchis experiences. Being the only person left on the island with the freedom of choice, Conchis chose not to kill. He says that his "reason has repeatedly told [him] that [he] was wrong. Yet [his] total being still tells [him he] was right"(M 442).
That Conchis assumes the role of magus indicates that he has assumed some form of power also. The allusions to The Tempest and in particular to Conchis as a Prospero figure suggest that he does embody a special kind of power. This power originates in self-knowledge and entails a responsibility to "accept one's limited freedom, to accept one's isolation"(A 214). With this acceptance comes the obligation to guide and lead others. Unlike Shakespeare's Prospero, who has a twofold agenda, to protect his daughter Miranda and regain his dukedom, Conchis's role is singular; that is, to educate so that his student becomes authentic. The power that Conchis possesses is an invited power, for Nicholas chooses to go to Bourani in the first place, and is always free to leave. What Conchis's actions accomplish is to help Nicholas to recognize his own flaws and his own potential. The absence of Conchis at the end of the novel is important to show that Nicholas is capable of returning to his old world as a "new" man. Nicholas must confront the nemo alone and be his own "magus."
As his name suggests, Conchis can be considered in terms of "consciousness." Characterizing him in this way, there are two aspects which need to be emphasized. As the magus, the "new male," Conchis symbolizes a collective male consciousness, or what it might become. Being a "feminist," he is the ideal of the proper social education. However, in terms of process, Conchis may be a more abstract symbol of Nicholas's own consciousness. In both cases, one of the primary concerns is the birth of a "new male consciousness." Michael Boccia claims that in "The Magus Fowles makes his strongest statement about the female and male roles in our culture"(60). However, all Boccia concludes is that "the purpose of the Godgame is to educate Nicholas to be feminist and a humanist"(60). What exactly "feminist" and "humanist" mean never receives much discussion. Finding a definition of these terms, particularly "feminism," is essential to an understanding not only of this novel, but of Fowles's other works as well. The main voice of feminism in the novel is Conchis, through his own words and actions and those of his "actors." His views on war are directly related to the differences between men and women. Conchis believes that the two sexes are different, that females have an "intuitive humanity"(M 301) that males do not. That women see these relationships makes them a better choice for occupying power positions as they would be able to see the already existing relationships in our society that now are often ignored. Such a change would allow men to be taught to acknowledge these associations as well.
The feminism of Fowles is more than just a plea for sexual liberation of females in our society: it is also a call for mass education. Fowles says:
. . . the education in humanity, which must be designed to alleviate a chief cause of all crime, the sense of inequality that makes social irresponsibility almost a courageous revolutionary gesture, is plainly best suited to establishing such control. (A 161).
However, the novel also suggests that because of male domination in society the female must also be educated. The effect of male ideology on the female has restricted the positive elements of femininity: "To the Adam in man, woman is no more than a rapable receptacle . . . anything not based on brute power is rapable"(A 166). Therefore, caliban societies are not progressive as all "progressive philosophies are feminist"(A 166).
Placing the protagonist of The Magus, Nicholas Urfe, in a middle-class background, Fowles brings social conditioning to the forefront of the novel. The reader is immediately made aware of Nicholas's obsession with his social environment when he states that his parents were "born in the grotesquely elongated shadow, which they never rose sufficiently above history to leave, of that monstrous dwarf Queen Victoria"(M 17). Nicholas discovered that he "lacked the parents and ancestors [he] needed"(M 17); instead, his father was a man who valued "Discipline and Tradition and Responsibility"(M 17). These references suggest Nicholas's dislike of conformity; nonetheless, he seeks some form of identity in a "wishful tradition"(M 17) of his family. Later he learns that his earlier reactions against his parents and their views were not authentic actions, but only for the sake of revolt itself.
Class consciousness and environment have created a psychological effect on Nicholas, what Fowles refers to as the "nemo." When in Greece and thinking of Alison, Nicholas contemplates suicide; he tells us:
I hated myself. I had created nothing. I belonged to nothingness, to the néant, and it seemed to me that my own death was the only thing left that I could create; and still, even then, I thought it might accuse everyone who had ever known me. (M 62)
At this point Nicholas does retreat into the hills to kill himself. As he points the gun at his head he looks "into the black O of [his] non-existence"(M 63). Both of these references allude to "man's sense of his own futility"(A 49), his "nemo." The relationship between the concern with the "nemo" and the politics of the novel is again complex. In The Aristos Fowles discusses the political nemo in terms of women's emancipation. He claims that our actions are a result of social defining and that to oppose these definitions would place one "outside" the status quo; therefore, woman may be fickle because she has "never been allowed or expected or conditioned to be anything else"(A 57). The nemo is the result of social ideology conditioning individuals and Nicholas must learn to recognize it in order to progress. The narrator has faced his nemo; he realizes: "It was a Mercutio death [he] was looking for, not a real one"(M 64). Even Conchis is aware of this "failure" in Nicholas's character and tells him that he is "a disaster. So defeated. So pessimistic"(M 149).
Nicholas also attended Oxford, where he and his classmates "argued about being and nothingness"(M 19) and mistook "metaphorical descriptions of complex modes of feeling for straightforward prescriptions of behaviour"(M 19). The narrator is aware of his own mistaken behaviour at Oxford and is commenting not only on the philosophy itself, but also the naiveté of many university students who felt at the time that they were opposing the "system." Concerning himself with the social structure in which his protagonist is raised, Fowles establishes his concern with social conditioning. He says: "The petty, cruel and still prevalent antifeminism of Adam-dominated mankind . . . is the long afterglow of the male's once important physical superiority" (A 166).
In the early stages of the novel Nicholas recalls the time immediately preceding his employment in Greece. As Nicholas searches for work the reader learns that he wants to leave England, one of the reasons being that there was "also a girl [he] was tired of"(M 20). That he was "also tired" of Janet indicates a condescending view of her, and of women in general. Leaving England is his way of separating himself from Janet without having to face her himself. Nicholas's sexist attitude is described again when he indicates that his "'technique' [with women] was to make a show of unpredictability, cynicism, and indifference. Then . . . [he] produced the solitary heart"(M 23). Furthermore, he "didn't collect conquests . . . It was like being good at golf, but despising the game"(M 23). His boredom and the need for the belief in having control are symptoms of the nemo.
The first relationship that the reader is exposed to is Nicholas's affair with Alison. The day after their first meeting, and their sexual encounter, Alison asks him if he thinks she is a tramp. "Yes, you are a tramp," he thinks to himself," and even worse, you exploit your tramp-hood"(M 32). That Nicholas is employing the traditional double-standard, assuming that she is a tramp for acting the same way he has, indicates his true feelings about Alison: he sees her as a sexual toy, nothing more. He even says that she is "cheaper than central heating"(M 38). As the relationship progresses, Nicholas's attitude does not change much. He still remains the individual who is in control; he says: "I felt I was teaching her, anglicizing her accent, polishing off her roughness"(M 37). In fact, he seems to be trying to create the "acceptable" woman; however, it is she who does the teaching when it comes to sexual matters. This fantasy relationship for Nicholas exemplifies his characteristic chauvinism, his inability to view women as individuals. Nicholas's feeling upon leaving Alison, and England, is one of escape and a "desire to celebrate [his] release"(M 50). Nicholas's fear of his nemo ultimately drives him away from responsibility. At the end of the novel, Nicholas appears to have exorcized his nemo. He recalls his meeting with Mitford, the student Conchis could not help: "I disliked Mitford because he was crass and mean, but even more because he was a caricature, an extension, of certain qualities in myself"(M 627).
Realizing that Nicholas's character has been defined in terms of a sexist upon his arrival in Greece is important. His mother never argued with his father and "always behaved as if [his father] were listening in the next room"(M 17). This type of female "obedience" indicates the "caliban" childhood in which Nicholas grew up. The lengths to which Fowles goes to establish this fact suggests that the education he receives from Conchis at Bourani is meant to help Nicholas develop towards a more "progressive" or "Eve-consciousness." Nicholas's education begins when he meets Maurice Conchis and is told he is "elect," with "many things to discover"(M 90). What "elect" means is rather ambiguous. At first Nicholas is elect because Conchis chooses him to be elect. Conchis tells Nicholas that "Greece is like a mirror. It makes you suffer. Then you learn"(M 101). Conchis has not been successful in all his attempts to educate. However, if one is to learn, apparently one must pay a price.
Nicholas's education has been one that has not been without pain. At one point Nicholas says that for "weeks [he] had the sense of being taken apart, disconnected from a previous self"(M 393). This statement suggests both the pain that he experiences as well as the potential for growth. However, Conchis realizes, because he himself is elect, that it is his responsibility to help Nicholas, and that the pain is a small price for education. Conchis is the one who sets up the "metatheatre" at Bourani and brings Nicholas through the initiation. By allowing Nicholas to experience a number of episodes in which he must make choices, Conchis pushes Nicholas to confront life and death. The first test that Nicholas encounters occurs in the dice-throwing episode. Throwing the dice and risking death suggests a willingness to reach for something, to be able to say, "I risked death"(M 128), and survived. Both his willingness to play the game and his refusal to accept death by swallowing the poisoned pill after he loses imply that Nicholas wants an active "being," an authentic existence.
The main vehicle for Nicholas's education at Bourani is Julie. Upon first seeing her, Nicholas is intrigued by her beauty; and Conchis uses this fact to educate Nicholas. Acting as an innocent pawn in Conchis's "godgame," Julie seduces Nicholas to the point that he believes he is in love with her. At one point he is lying in bed and imagines "Julie coming to [him] there . . . a willing rape"(M 238). What is important is that Nicholas believes that Julie desires him sexually. This fantasy permeates the novel, even when Conchis warns him against it. Conchis knows that Julie will never be a victim to Nicholas, as were many other women. Even more importantly Conchis knows that by telling Nicholas not to indulge in his fantasies about Julie, he will. This form of manipulation is what lures Nicholas further into the godgame.
The next episode that Conchis establishes for Nicholas involves hypnotism. Similar both to Conchis's lessons during World War One concerning "being" and Henrik Nygaard's experience with "god," the hypnotism allows Nicholas to confront that which he has "no desire to state or define"(M 244). Under hypnosis, Nicholas stares into the night sky at a star "both breeding and needing the void around it"(M 242). He recognizes a similarity between the star and himself: "We were poised, exactly equal weights"(M 242). This illusion is broken by a wind breaking over his face, blowing "from all directions at the same time"(M 243). At this moment Nicholas realizes that life is inter-connected, that the wind became light and that light "became mere secondaries, roads to the present state . . . of pure being"(M 243). This "religious" experience shows Nicholas that mystery, "or unknowing, is energy"(A 28) and is essential in life, that life is dominated by hazard. He was "aware of existing, and this being aware of existing became more significant"(M 243).
The final, and most important, stage of Nicholas's education is the trial. It is here that Nicholas, and the reader, are given several "psychological" analyses of his character in terms of sex and power. These three analyses constitute more than a characterization of Nicholas, for they also represent definitions of certain ills in society. In the one selected here, Dr. Ciardi, one of the actor/psychiatrists, says:
I predict that breast-fixated men like the subject will become the norm. We are entering an amoral and permissive era in which self-gratification in the form of high wages and a wide range of consumer goods obtained and obtainable against a background of apparently imminent universal doom will be available. (M 520)
Apart from the economic aspects of this analysis, the idea of "Adam-consciousness" is apparent, although overstated and constructed to cut deeply into Nicholas. That mere self-gratification is becoming the "norm" suggests a social illness, one that is also found in Nicholas and his attitudes towards women. Such passages indicate the political nature of the novel, that Nicholas's "selfishness and social inadequacy have been determined by his past"(M 521). In his education at Bourani, Nicholas has been told that it is "the self that must not be betrayed"(M 135), that he must recognize the dividing line within the individual.
Following the different analyses of himself, Nicholas is given the opportunity to seek revenge on Julie for using him the way she did. His opportunity comes in a flogging frame and whip. Nicholas is given the chance to flog Julie because she represents why he feels betrayed. As with Conchis's decision not to shoot the villagers during the war, Nicholas also chooses not to act. His motivation is not quite clear: because he thinks his action is being double-guessed by the others, his decision is influenced by this knowledge. Despite his anger, he realizes that he "was not holding a cat in [his] hand in an underground cistern, [he] was in a sunlit square ten years before and in [his] hands [he] held a German sub-machine-gun"(M 526). Again "doubling" becomes important in the parallel with Conchis. The magus's experience implies that the decision Nicholas makes will decide whether he is truly "elect" or not. It appears that Nicholas is successful in his decision, for it is the same decision Conchis himself made: his "freedom too was in not striking"(M 526).
A final stage of Nicholas's education is his "disintoxication." The purpose of this process is to free him from his attachment to Julie and allow him to return to his regular life, void of emotional anger and hatred. This is achieved in part by forcing him to watch a film of Julie and Joe having sex. However, he claims that he now knows Julie's "real name" and that he does not forgive her but feels more rage with her. Bruce Woodcock suggests that her real name is Eve, which would lead one to think that Nicholas has not changed very much. However, considering Fowles's own version of the myth of the Fall, this idea becomes more complex. Woodcock says that "Eve, the fatal woman, was made responsible"(66) for the Fall of man. One must remember that in Fowles's mind Eve represents "the assumption of human responsibility, of the need to progress and the need to control progress"(A 165). Julie, at this point, represents for Nicholas his own lack of authenticity, his need to be defined.
At the heart of Nicholas's education process lies Conchis, the magus. Not only does he serve as a teacher, but he is also the example that Fowles provides to illustrate a male who recognizes both the need for the emancipation of women in society and the responsibility he has because of this knowledge. As with The Collector, Fowles alludes to The Tempest in this novel. The role of Prospero is performed at first by Conchis with the meta-theatre at Bourani. His seeming manipulation of Nicholas is similar to Prospero's control over Ferdinand and Miranda. Conchis, like Shakespeare's character, exercises his control in order to aid Nicholas on his journey. Both Ferdinand and Nicholas participate in "tests" to evaluate their character. There is finally an implication of a third Prospero figure, Nicholas's own self. In The Aristos, Fowles says that "the dividing line between the Few and the Many must run through each individual, not between individuals"(A 9-10). To this end Conchis attempts to educate Nicholas. Nicholas's early inability to recognize this is the reason for his unwillingness to remain in a relationship and his ultimate attitude towards women. Again, one recalls his upbringing amidst Victorian values and realizes the impact of his family's "wishful tradition"(M 17) that they were descendants of the aristocratic Honoré d'Urfé. Nicholas's progress has allowed him to seek his identity not in the past but in his own present self, where a dividing line between the "few" and the "many" is forged.
More than a simple teacher for Nicholas, Conchis is also an instructor for the reader. A relevant aspect of his teachings for our purpose is on war. Conchis equates war with the fact that men are in a power position in society. With biting satire he says that "men love war because it allows them to look serious. Because they imagine it is the one thing that stops women laughing at them. In it they can reduce women to the status of objects"(M 420). He continues by saying that the difference between men and women is that men "see objects, women see the relationship between objects," and that war is "a psychosis caused by an inability to see relationships"(M 420). What Fowles is discussing here is the "Eve-" and "Adam-consciousness" that are working in society. The overstatement employed by Conchis forces the reader to consider the "Adamic" society in which he lives. That Nicholas chooses not to whip Julie shows he has begun his journey "to learn one's particular powers, and then with them to humanize the whole"(A 214).
Along with the education of Nicholas there is also that of Alison. Although Alison's process is not depicted in the novel, one is aware of some differences in her character at the end of the book. Early in the novel Alison is described as being nemo-ridden. The guilt she feels because of her sexuality makes her think that she will be an "Australian slut for ever"(M 31). Again, as with Nicholas, Alison claims to want to commit suicide because of her anger with Nicholas for thinking she had slept with Pete, her old boyfriend. What Alison is actually angry with is herself. She is, at this point, being defeated by her own nemo. What Fowles has done with Alison is create a foil, another "doubling," for Nicholas. While Nicholas is being educated at Bourani, he is told that Alison has died. The exact situation of her "death" and "rebirth" is not revealed to the reader, but the suggestion is that Alison has also undergone some sort of "godgame". When Alison returns at the end of the novel, she appears to be without her old feelings of inadequacy. Instead, when Nicholas slaps her she turns to him and tells him she hates him. This simple gesture is quite different from what one would have expected from the earlier Alison, who would have thought that she deserved such treatment.
If we can assume Conchis is a Prospero figure, then there ought to be a Caliban and Ferdinand as well. Nicholas fills both of these roles quite well. Assuming Julie is Miranda, then one can view him as Ferdinand because of the game that "Prospero" plays with the two "lovers." However, considering Nicholas' attitudes towards women early in the novel, he, like Clegg, resembles Caliban. In The Collector the protagonist does not appear to develop in any way at all due to his inability to change, but Nicholas shows at least a few signs of developing an "Eve-consciousness." By the end of the novel it is not clear how far Nicholas has progressed in his metamorphoses, but the fact that he retells his story many years later suggests that he has progressed. Like The Tempest, The Magus contains elements of the traditional "comic structure," suggestive of marriage. That Miranda and Ferdinand are to be married in the play suggests a similar conclusion for the novel. The possibility of a "marriage" is suggested by the final words of the novel: "cras amet qui numquam amavit/quique amavit cras amet"(M 668), which can be translated as "May he who has never loved love tomorrow, and may he who is loved love tomorrow." The union expected at the end of this "comedy" is found in the form of "an anagram made flesh"(M 668). Nicholas has begun the journey to become the new "magus" and, by recounting his experiences, is attempting to teach his audience.
The relationships with Alison at the beginning of the novel and the liaison in Athens indicate Nicholas is a Caliban figure. He uses Alison for his own personal enjoyment, like Shakespeare's character wanting to "people[] . . . [t]his isle with Calibans"(I.ii.350-1). Caliban is offensive to society--he attempted to rape Miranda--and Nicholas does assume this role in the early part of the novel, claiming quietly to "rape the island"(M 65). In the play, Prospero educated Caliban to use language but his "profit on't/Is, [he only knows] how to curse"(I.ii.363-364). In The Magus, Conchis's education gives Nicholas the choice to be authentic. However, at the end of the novel it appears that Nicholas is ready to accept Alison for who she is. Unlike Caliban, Nicholas has found a sense of his own identity in Conchis's lessons. Nicholas's writing of the story suggests he has found a new language of self.
In light of Fowles's theory that the nemo is a "human psychic force"(A 48), one realizes that his feminism not only includes the education of the male but also the female. Alison is introduced into the novel with "calibanity" in her character, just as Nicholas was. That she must change suggests that the modern woman has the responsibility to adjust her own "maleness" or "Adam-consciousness." Changing the cause of masculine ideology is not sufficient; one must also seek to repair its effects. Here Fowles reaches one of his most political statements, claiming that society defines what we are, and to change society also requires changing those in it.
Nicholas's slapping of Alison at the end of the work does not allow the reader to accept Nicholas readily as the "new male." However, that the story is being told many years after the action suggests that, now, he has become one of the "few." The narrator even calls the earlier Nicholas the "antihero"(M 657), suggesting a critical awareness of his past mistakes. One concludes that the narrator and the character at the end of the novel are not necessarily at the same point in their development. That is, the narrator has obtained his freedom. Seemingly a humanist novel, The Magus subtly mixes concerns of individual freedom with socialism. The political nature of the novel allows the reader to become engaged in the novel, and, through the "godgame," life.
Feminism in The Magus may be,
as Boccia claims, Fowles's strongest statement about power relations in
society. However, the novel is also a textbook on educating "Adam-consciousness"
out of people and allowing them to realize their potential and the potential
of society. The main social illness in our society is the lack of a female
voice, of progress. The Magus is John Fowles's political statement on social
change and individual freedom. According to Fowles, allowing individuals
their freedom is the only way to unite those same individuals. Both Nicholas
and Alison have become members of the group he labels the "few." Their
self-realization has allowed them to return to where they began, and "know
the place for the first time" (M 71).