This is the story of John Marcher and May Bartram’s warped relationship. Honestly speaking, given the hoopla for the book and the fame of the author, I expected something much more exciting and legendary. The story has depth and is literary all right, but John Marcher’s confused egoism was a bit much to bear.

Marcher and Bartram meet when in their early twenties and might have fallen in love, but Marcher denies it and Bartram doesn’t acknowledge it when they meet years later. Bartram inherits some money and buys a house in London where the two meet often as friends. One day, Marcher tells Bartram a big secret of his that he hasn’t told anyone. The secret is that he has a belief that a beast in the jungle is waiting for him, and that beast in the jungle is an enormously important event or thing that he can’t exactly put his finger on.

Bartram seems to understand him and doesn’t betray his confidence in her. Marcher on the other hand suspects that Bartram knows about that event better than Marcher himself does, but Bartram denies any knowledge of such event, and she dedicates herself to their friendship.

Years pass. Neither develops any other serious relationship with other people, but Marcher keeps visiting Bartram in her London home, while his only focus is on himself and his life.

Finally, they both get old, and a blood disorder resulting in a serious illness is discovered in Bartram. On one of their last meetings, when Bartram can hardly walk, she approaches Marcher and tells him that it is never too late, but Marcher is still involved with his own self, his own feelings, thoughts, etc. and misses Bartram’s point. Then Bartram tells him that the event has already happened and Marcher missed it, so he should reconcile himself to this fact.

When Bartram dies, Marcher is distraught and disappointed that Bartram’s family members do not acknowledge him as they were not lovers or were married and they do not know how significant Marcher was to Bartram’s life.

After the funeral, Marcher travels abroad but finds his life dull and missing something, even though he still feels he is different from and maybe better than anyone else. So, he returns to London and keeps visiting Bartram’s grave. On one of those visits he meets another grieving man who has lost a wife. The pain and passion of this man makes Marcher realize that he loved Bartram and she loved him back but he missed the point, and that his beast in the jungle was this fact, the love between the two. Bartram knew it but couldn’t get through to him due to his egoism and self-importance.

The story is written in third person, and the narrator’s voice is mostly distant from the characters. The tone is somber and the voice is detached and aloof.

The theme of the story is Marcher’s obsession even though he can’t put his fingers on it as to what it is. Bartram is important as she is the catalyst of Marcher’s obsession, even though she feeds his obsession and doesn’t really come out and say openly what it is between them, which results in their incomplete relationship.

To tell the truth, for me, that “beast in the jungle” was an annoying swivel in the story. I understand about missed opportunities but this much of it that lasts a lifetime without the main player not catching on to it is inconceivable.

As to the characterization, I think the author is a genius, but it is also irritating to read about such a character like John Marcher who cannot know himself, look and see outside of himself, and who misunderstands his own inner truth and motives. When he does understand what happened to him, only after seeing the other grieving man, then it is too late. Now he is stuck with a life not lived.

the literariness of the storytelling.

who the characters were. Stupidity is not cute.

is Henry James (1843-1916), the son of the religious philosopher Henry James Sr. and brother of the psychologist and philosopher William James, published many important novels including Daisy Miller, The Wings of the Dove, The Golden Bowl, and The Ambassadors.

I neither recommend nor not recommend this book. It only made me furious at the main character. Maybe it is a guy thing, but how can anyone be such a blockhead!
Then May Bartram, too, should have just come out and say it instead of beating around the bush. But then, it was the old British society and they can be quite uppity.

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Created Aug 30, 2020 at 4:50pm • Submit your own review...