⭐⭐⭐1/2

A little gothic tale of a magician, aka. a fictional tale staring Aleister Crowley. In the introduction Maugham accounts how he did indeed meet Crowley, and didn't appear to be a fan either. And the magician in this book is an obsese, unscrupulous demon of a man (or maybe not quite - although I suspect that wasn't the author's intention).

Set in Paris in either the late 1800s or early 1900s, we see engaged couple Arthur and Margaret. She is about seventeen or eighteen at this point and was under the guardianship of Dr Arthur Burden. Which I guess would put him at about 30 or more, considering he's been her guardian since she was ten. Margaret is living with an ex teacher, the lovely Susie, who is described as a plain woman, old but full of character. Basically past it. She's thirty we're told. Yep, she's SO old. Also, she refers to Arthur and Margaret as young things, although Arthur must either be her peer or even older than she is. A nice bit of ye olde double standards for you. Anyway, before they are to be married, Arthur's agreed that Margaret should experience a bit of life in Paris before they settle down in London. Margaret's beautiful, a bit snooty, and easily persuaded. Arthur's awfully sensible and lacking in intense passion. Everything is all very 'nice'.

Then in roles Oliver Haddo, perhaps quite literally because he is frequently described as being obese with many rolls of fat. He's not pretty on the outside or in, dresses eccentrically, is arrogant and outspoken, doesn't really have friends (surprising) and dabbles more than just a little in the occult. It is all a conjuror's parlour trick, or does he have real powers? Margaret is rather disgusted by him, although Susie is curious about him and invites him to tea, where the deciding incident happens. Margaret's little terrior jumps up and bites him on the hand (he has this effect on animals). He knocks the dog away and gives it a kick, to which Arthur gives him a good beating on the parlour floor. Now, Haddo is most definately the villian of this tale. But is it fair that their dog attacks him, and when he defends himself they beat the crap out of him? They also find out that he's never been liked, and in his youth at school, people only talked to him because he was so wierd, like a freak show or some such thing. So he's eccentric, ostracised by society, and turns into this twisted nutter, hell-bent on revenge? Does this not say something about middle class English snobbery as well. Conform or else!

Haddo takes his beating and takes his revenge. He takes control of Margaret's simple mind. She crosses over the thin line between love and hate and becomes completely obsessed with the man. She runs off with him to be married, whilst Arthur simpers along after her, convinced it's all Haddo's doing. So there are various attempts at a rescue, culminating in a visit to Haddo's attic laboratory in the English countryside where some general nasty experimentation is going on.

Rather gothic, rather creepy in a slow, quiet way, and rather uncomfortable.

So nothing really happens for the first half of the book. But then it becomes grotesque and creepy. And then the ending --- oh freaking hell what just happened??

I didn't know Somerset Maugham wrote Gothic horror with some great weird fiction touches. I feel like these are the kind of things that genre snobs gloss over. Anyway, this fits right in alongside late 19th century reads like [b:The Beetle|816740|The Beetle|Richard Marsh|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1178654437l/816740._SY75_.jpg|802628] or Doyle's [b:Lot No. 249|11430719|Lot No. 249|Arthur Conan Doyle|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348393608l/11430719._SY75_.jpg|16364113] with some touches that are at home alongside [a:Algernon Blackwood|38840|Algernon Blackwood|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1361603654p2/38840.jpg]'s early 20th century tales. It's probably a little too of its time for many modern readers. Much of the vagueness, especially about sex and violence, will bore some. There's also the Middle East Orientalism that doesn't read well today, but isn't nearly as bad as some other texts of the era. However, I love this stuff and the sections where Haddo works his magic, creeps into dreams, and the final walk through his labs made it worth the read.

It is a sad thing, I think, when an otherwise wonderful writer wastes his time excoriating someone he (justifiably) loathes. I’m no fan of Crowley, but this is mere caricature.