viewBook Review: Matthew Lewis' "The Monk"
Personal Notes:
I started reading this book about a few months ago. What initially attracted me to pick up the book was the cover on the Oxford Classics Series; it had an eerie picture of a monk from what seems to be the Middle Ages, and to make it even more creepier, the picture had a sepia filter— and sepia filters make everything creepier. I didn’t read the summary of the book, but with the foregoing facts stating the cover of the book, and its title, I assumed it was a horror story about a Monk set in Medieval Times. And me being an enthusiast of all things haunting and Medieval, immediately added this book to my wishlist on Book Depository. However, as I was browsing the free Classics catalogue on Amazon, I stumbled upon a free copy of said book. I really wanted to buy a physical copy of it because of the cover, but I will later learn that the adage “never judge a book by its cover” proves accurate in this case. Because of my attraction to the cover, and because the circumstances concerning Covid-19 made Book Depository temporarily cease delivery to my country, I reneged on my initial plan to buy a hard copy. Hence, I downloaded the free e-book, The Monk onto my Kindle. As I will later learn, this was a wise decision, and saved me precious money and space on my bookshelf. I read the book intermittently for around three months before a sudden spurt in energy allowed me to finally finish the book in one day. In the end, I rated the book four (4) stars, which is rare because, if I like a book, I have no qualms rating it five (5) stars. I know the books I want, and the books I need, so if I rate it less than 5 stars, that only means that there was something about it that I found to be problematic, terrible, or simply, boring and formulaic. If I could encapsulate this book in one sentence, it would be: It has some exciting parts, but for the most part, mildly disappointing.
Summary and Review of the Book:
The Monk is a Gothic novel set during the Inquisition period in Madrid, Spain. There are several protagonists, the foremost of which is Father Ambrosio, a young, comely, monk who gained popularity in Madrid because of his saintly piety. He was an orphan adopted by the Monks, who eventually grew up to be an intelligent and gifted priest; because of his charisma and mysterious background, rumors abound that he was sent as a baby to the Monastery by the Virgin Mary herself, but as I later learned, this trifle, seemingly offhanded, would become a tragic detail by the end of the book. Other protagonists include Antonia, Agnes, Don Raymond, and Lorenzo. Antonia is a young and beautiful maiden whose beauty would be the cause of her own downfall. Agnes and Don Raymond are lovers whom terrible circumstances will attempt to separate, but are fated to reunite in the end. Lorenzo is Agnes’ brother and betrothed to Antonia, but their love will unfortunately end in tragedy.
The story uses an omniscient point-of-view, and being a Gothic novel, has horror elements in it. The story begins with Father Ambrosio preaching at the pulpit with an almost fanatic passion, while his audience, the people of Madrid were enthralled. Among the audience is Antonia and her aunt, Leonella. Like the rest, they couldn’t resist Ambrosio’s charm, moreso Antonia, who, because of her innocence, set aside the ominous gut feeling she felt at the sight of Father Ambrosio. Two men relevant to the story were also present in the audience, but for different reasons. They were Lorenzo and Don Raymond. It should be noted that in the first chapter, the tone of the novel was rather light, and even allowed for some humor, especially on the part of Aunt Leonella. Also, I appreciated that all parts of the novel, even those that at first seem to be off-tangent to the story, all work in the end to push the story to its denouement and are germane to the novel’s plot. One such seemingly irrelevant passage is the part about Don Raymond’s adventures in the German Black Forest and its subsequent events. Like a typical gothic novel, it invokes ghosts and other spiritual elements for a little bit of scare, including haunted castles and monasteries, although I should say, these typical features rather made the novel tied to its time, or in other words, outdated. However, this is not enough reason to outright dismiss the novel, for it has its redeeming qualities, and lessons that especially resonate with today’s world.
The ties that bind Ambrosio, Antonia, Lorenzo, Don Raymond and Agnes is the Church. Ambrosio is the shining star of said church, and Antonia a devout believer, often goes to church, and it is in there that she first sees Ambrosio. Agnes, meanwhile, was forced to become a nun in the church by her aunt because of jealousy, and her lover, Don Raymond, together with Lorenzo, her brother, is determined to get her out of there. There are also little details here in there, that while they are typical of a gothic novel, contribute a lot to the ominous pace of the story: among them include the part about the gypsy fortune teller auguring Antonia’s tragic fate, and Don Raymond’s mysterious healer (whom I believe is the mentor of the character Matilda who will later on be the cause of Ambrosio’s downward spiral) who made use of sorcery to rid him of the Bloody Nun’s ghostly visits every night.
The pacing of the novel in the first three chapters was a little bit slow for me, but one should take note that I am a huge fan of the linguistic calisthenics almost always present in Modernist and Postmodernist novels, so this might not be the same case for other people. However, I think it’s unfair for me to compare a classic gothic novel with modern ones, so I will set that aside and focus on the novel as it is. The story starts to pick up after the third chapter with the introduction of the character of Rosario, whom, although my knowledge in the theories of literature is meagre, I identify as the Antagonist. Rosario, whose real name is Matilda, is a woman disguised as a monk, who confesses her love to Ambrosio. And Ambrosio, at first, was horrified at the discovery that the soft-spoken monk he doted on was all along a woman, and a woman who is in fact in love with him! Another common theme of gothic stories is the focus on the turbulent dilemma of the human soul in its tug-of-war between good and evil, hence the ubiquitous presence of the Devil in this story. And the Devil was very much present when Matilda succeeded in seducing the pious Ambrosio; once Ambrosio’s lust was awakened, he ventured to have more, and when his eyes fell on the lovely Antonia, he vowed to stop at nothing until he captures her in his arms, even if it entails turning to witchcraft, a practice very much against his religion, and would cause him his life, especially since the story was set during the time of the Spanish inquisition. However, for Ambrosio, the lust of the loins had more gravity than his faith, and seeing that he took the plunge in allowing himself to be seduced by Matilda, he was persuaded by the same to engage in witchcraft to get what he wanted.
The most exciting parts of the novel for me is found in Ambrosio’s downward spiral from being a saintly monk to becoming an unrepentant sinner lusting after Antonia. It showcased the fallibility of man, and how easily the Devil is able to drag one down to the pit of one is not on guard against him. While Ambrosio may be a monk of high standing, still, he is human after all, and as the Devil’s monologue at the end would reveal, his piety is a result only of vanity rather than sincerity, which made him an easy target for temptation. I have to admit, in spite of the many crimes Ambrosio committed in the novel, I still felt sorry for him, at times even rooting for him to denounce his sinful ways during the parts when he was having conflicts with himself as to whether or not accept Lucifer’s offer of buying his soul in exchange for freedom. This is probably why I didn’t like the book as much as I wanted to: I liked that it featured the question of evil, but it also seems to propagate the notion that God is so much an unmerciful deity to allow one of His children to fall in the trap of the Devil without His Intervention, and that He, as Our Father is again so unmerciful as to not forgive Ambrosio’s sins, knowing that the Devil was actively doing what it can to make sure that Ambrosio’s soul is lost to the fires of hell. A Christian who has knowledge of the Bible would shake his head at the ideas that this book seems to lay bare. God promised us in the Bible that “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” (1 Corinthian 10:13) In the Monk’s case, it looked like God did not extend a helping hand to Ambrosio during the times that he was being played for a fool by the Devil. Although it is hinted that there would have been a light at the end of the tunnel for Ambrosio had he heeded his conscience (which after all is the voice of God) and refused Lucifer’s offer, he sadly, and ultimately, succumbed to temptation. There was no redemption for the monk, as the story made it clear that he had sold his soul to the Devil. Taken as it is, the idea of a soul damned to hell is chilling enough to warrant it a good trope for a gothic novel, and I believe such was the author’s intention, but realistically speaking, it goes against the teachings of the Bible. For what sin could God Almighty not forgive? It is as bleak as Atheism to believe that God is so weak that he is incapable of forgiving even the blackest of sins. The crimes that Ambrosio committed, though they are indeed heinous, were set up by the Devil, albeit the monk is still at fault for not exercising proper discernment and self-control to resist sin. Thus said, this is one of the main reasons why this book feels outdated, namely, it is stuck in a Medieval concept of a vengeful God.
The book is generously peppered with servings of Medieval themes like witchcraft, sorcery, Monks, and Auto Da Fe’s, which is engaging to readers who love their reads flavored with the richness of history. Furthermore, the author succeeds in justifying the book’s claim to be within the Gothic genre with its unsettling imagery and descriptions of catacombs, putrified corpses, and of course, the Devil. I admit to not being well-versed with gothic or other horror sub-genres, although I do read some every now and then, but on a superficial basis, The Monk seems to me to be entry-level should there be a comparison with other novels from the Gothic genre. Again, I might be on the side of error with my inability to appreciate what makes a good horror novel due to my lack of research and sophistication.
Readers with short attention span might find some parts of this book slow-paced; but I reiterate that those who love history not just in the macro sense, will find it a delight to read if only for the reason that the book is a product of its time, a faded photograph that captures the sensibilities of its milieu, it being that it was published during the time when Romanticism was the de rigueur genre in Europe— a glimpse into what kinds of books did readers in the past hold in high regard. It is a classic for a reason, but as I compared it with a photograph, I’d go further and say that even the classics are not immune to deterioration over time. Had ‘The Monk’ been published today, it would have appealed only to a niche audience, and would be overlooked, only to resurface again in charity or thrift shops. This is not an insult to a classic, it is rather a report on how times (and tastes) have changed since the Romantic period. The past, no matter when, will always be a simpler time. To unfaithfully reincarnate in this post the ideas of Schopenhauer, the great pessimist did say that the past (and the future), though romanticized, is but an empty dream; the lens through which we view the past and all that remains within it, are clouded with the haze of longing to return to a more carefree time. And with the current situation of the world going through a pandemic, this book despite its chthonic themes managed to bring a bit of warmth to my heart because it revealed to me that people in the past were still so close to Divinity that matters beyond the scope of the earthly had an effect in their day to day lives. Some people may call this simply as “superstitious,” but I call it “spiritual”, and I prefer it to today’s materialistic world where everyone is pressured to succeed according to society’s standards. Make no mistake, people of today may laugh at the concept of the Devil, relegating it as a relic of the past, but in no other period of history are people more willing to sell their souls to him in exchange for material gain. However, they may not be aware of it, for the Devil goes under a different name—it’s a case of same shit, different asshole.
Going back to the actual review, The Monk, as far as the story goes, may be theologically unsound, but its merits lie in its aesthetics; throughout the book there is an ambience of impending doom that lovers of horror may find credible, and the prose, at times a bit dragging, is neither purple nor beige, it is just the right amount to keep one turning the pages (or in my case, the kindle pages), and if one pays enough attention (given that they held on to reading the book in spite of the initial boring chapters), some parts are sufficiently gripping to make those turning pages fly off the spine (well not literally of course) until one reaches the bitter, but satisfyingly haunting end.
The last pages of the book had Ambrosio negotiating with Lucifer, and when the latter succeeds in obtaining the former’s soul in exchange for freedom, the Devil whisks Ambrosio away from his prisoner’s cell and onto the edge of a cliff; here, the Devil has a little monologue about how he plotted everything from Rosario’s appearance, to the rape of Antonia (who turns out to be Ambrosio’s sister) in order to bring about Ambrosio’s downfall. The Devil goes on to say that there is no redemption nor atonement for Ambrosio’s crimes and proceeds to whisk the monk in the air one last time before he drops Ambrosio down the cliff to meet his terrible demise. The last scene wherein Ambrosio lay dying, bloody from the fall and blind from having birds peck out his eyes, reminded me slightly of the last scene in Malcolm Lowry’s ‘Under The Volcano’ wherein that book’s main character also died at the foot of a cliff. The image of falling down a cliff in both stories was probably employed to emphasize both characters’ living on the edge and falling from the edge. In Ambrosio’s case he was made to suffer a little bit more. Humiliated and deoculated, he is beyond saving, and as the torrential rain swept his corpse away on the river, I could almost hear the Devil mocking God, telling the Almighty that he has won this round. God’s silence is deafening, and I had to stop and think: how many downtrodden souls believed in their dying moments that they were or are beyond the scope of God’s mercy and forgiveness? Now that is a terrifying thought, and is the main reason why I think this book succeeded as a Gothic classic—the idea of being irredeemable certainly would make even the hardest of hearts tremble, hence as defense mechanism, man decided to erase the ideas of God and Devil in our modern lives, for how could we be beyond redemption when there is no redeemer, and furthermore, no reason or cause to ask for redemption in the first place? Remember my friends, the greatest trick of the Devil is to have us believe that he doesn’t exist. The real horror takes place when we are caught off-guard and deceived in a similar vein like Ambrosio. In this way, the book is relatable, and upon closer inspection, even serves as a warning.
All in all, I give this book a rating of four out of five stars. As I’ve said, I know what I like and I tend to rate books highly, so that should be a caveat. To sum up, despite having some minor gripes, I still think ‘The Monk’ is a good read, and I recommend it to those who are looking for a book that is pretty straightforward both in plot and prose, and as a book that has cemented its place in the annals of Romantic literature (note the capital ‘R’), one could never go wrong with it—it’s a classic for a reason.