Sunday, 29 November 2015

Selling Your Humanity

Original cover to Goethe's Play
If Gothic Literature has become timeless in one aspect, the Faustian Pact has subsisted throughout history. Since the last temptation of Christ, as long as the Devil has been believed in, there will always be stories of him or his representatives tempting fallible mortals into selling their souls. Humanity and selling one’s soul is usually considered when a Faustian pact is made. Using examples from Gothic Literature, there are noteworthy elements of the character, after selling their soul, loses what is means to be human. They may kill close friends, ruin the lives of the innocent and eventually be stripped down to a shell of the character they were at the start of the story. 
Selling one’s soul was first popularised by the German legend featuring the scholar, Faust, which gave the deal its infamous name. Since then many authors have given their own interpretations to the legend. One of the earlier adaptations was by that of Christopher Marlowe in the play Doctor Faustus. It is either due to the mannerisms of Marlowe, or the legend itself, which has proceeding interpretations with the mortal’s story ending with eternal damnation. Rare is the ending in which the deal is escaped. The only two notable exceptions for the common Faustian pact would be Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe’s play in 1790 which has Faust redeem himself; the second is the 1937 reworking of The Devil and Daniel Webster. With the redemption of the Faustian character being so few and far between, it is interesting to see the fragility of human nature explored in these narratives. After all, seeing someone become increasingly flawed, rather than increasingly virtuous, will always be more popular.

Vanity and lust are human vices often exploited in drama and reality. Naturally these imperfections would be exploited by the Devil when he buys his soul from a mortal. Oscar Wilde and Matthew Lewis explore vanity and lust respectively in The Picture of Doran Gray and The Monk. Both novels revolve around the aforementioned condemnation of the titular characters, otherwise known as a fall from grace.
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Wilde’s version is unique in that there is no direct appearance of the Devil. After Dorian, upon seeing his newly finished portrait, says in passing:

‘How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June…If it were only the other way! If it were I who was to be always young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that—for that—I would give everything! Yes there is nothing in the whole world I would give my soul for that!’ (The Picture of Dorian Gray, p.25)

It would have been easy to have a scene in which the Devil grants just that. Instead, the reader and Dorian is left not discovering that the deal has been made until he has snubbed Sybil. The more Dorian wrongs people or is swayed into immorality by those around him, the more the portrait changes. At first Dorian sees this as an advantage until curiosity keeps bringing him back to look at the painting and every time it is different. Nothing that Dorian does from then on is done selflessly. Without his soul, Dorian acts with vanity, even when trying to be true to his newest conquest, Hetty. Hoping that the painting will revert back to normal if he becomes a good person is itself an act of vanity which only leads to his death when he attacks the painting, thus killing himself.


He could see no change, save that in the eyes there was a look of cunning, and in the mouth the curved wrinkle of the hypocrite. The thing was still loathsome—more loathsome, if possible, than before—and the scarlet dew that spotted the hand seemed brighter, and more like blood newly split. Then he trembled. Had it been merely vanity that had made him do his one good deed? Or the desire for a new sensation, as Lord Henry had hinted, with his mocking laugh? Or that passion to act a part that sometimes makes us do things finer than we are ourselves? Or, perhaps, all these? (The Picture of Dorian Gray p.186)

Ultimately, Dorian brings his own downfall, breaking the deal only by ending his life with the same blade he used to kill Basil. The interesting fact is that Dorian may have sold his soul to remain forever young, but he had always the option to do good but always acted immorally, suggesting that the decisions which brings someone to their ultimate fate is of their own choosing.

Lewis, on the other hand, focuses more on the fallibility of human nature. Ambrosio is arguably the kind of person that the Devil preys upon the most because, as the most moral abbot in Madrid, he has the furthest to fall. Lust is often a vice for antagonists, protagonists and deuteragonists, not only used in Gothic Literature. When said lust is conflicted with religious duty, especially Catholic celibacy, it is always an interesting imbalance in a character arc. Like Dorian, Ambrosio also has a fall from grace, even before he sells his soul when he sleeps with Matilda, who encourages him to continue pursuing Antonia. His inability to fight temptation doesn’t necessarily come from lack of a soul, more Lucifer draws upon his infallibility which no mortal is above. Furthermore, it is debateable that Ambrosio’s actions didn’t need the deal with Lucifer to condemn him. He still would have forced himself on Antonia and killed her to silence her anyway. Lucifer’s offerings were merely to quicken his downfall, which he later mocks Ambrosio for.

Fool that you were to confide yourself in a Devil! Why did you not stipulate for life, and power, and pleasure? Then all would have been granted: Now your reflections come too late. Miscreant, prepare for death; You have not many hours to live!’ (The Monk, p.441)

It seems only fitting that Ambrosio dies in a barren place in utter agony, mirroring the misery and suffering he has caused, especially where Antonia and Agnes is concerned. Like most Faustian pacts, it insists upon the need never to give in to temptation.
Sebastian Michaelis in the anime adaptation of Black Butler
Following the misdeeds of Dorian and Ambrosio, post-nineteenth century authors have developed their own versions of the Faustian pact, exploring all vices and infallibilities of human nature. It is interesting how this concept has become culturally universal. Usually some legends are alien to other cultures, for example, Grimm’s fairy tales are not as well known in Asia as they are in Europe. Meanwhile the Faustian Pact has reached as far as Japan, as portrayed in the Japanese Manga, Black Butler. This explores another reason why a mortal would sell their soul: vengeance. In the manga, Ciel Phantomhive strikes a bargain with a demon, known only as Sebastian Michaelis, in order to avenge the murder of his parents and get retribution for those who have wronged him. Sebastian has not yet taken his soul, the deal will only be settled when Ciel is properly avenge; however Ciel’s vain, demanding, and cynical nature demonstrates why Sebastian made the offer in the first place.

If there’s one thing that authors will not stop exploring, it’s human nature. Faustian Pacts, where a mortal gives away what it means to be human for a fleeting gain will always be a strong way of exploring that. Through Faust’s pride, Dorian’s vanity, Ambrosio’s lust and Ciel’s cynicism, narratives will always exist to either explore humanity or make a critique on human nature itself. This is a narrative concept that is overall timeless and can be applied to any culture or any time.

References:
Anderson, Matthew Gregory Lewis Howard, The Monk: A Romance (London: Oxford University Press, 1980)
Dawson, Terence, The Effective Protagonist in the Nineteenth-Century British Novel (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004)
Julian, Philippe, Oscar Wilde (London: Paladin, 1986)
Kingsolver, Barbara, The Poisonwood Bible (New York: Harper, 1998)
Lewis, Matthew, The Monk (Oxford: Oxford World Classics, 1796)
Praz, Mario, 'The Metamorphoses of Satan' in The Gothick Novel, ed. by Victor Sage (Hampshire: Macmillan Press, 1990)
Smeed, J.W., Faust in Literature (London: Oxford University Press, 1975)
Toboso, Yana, Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) (Tokyo: Spuare Enix, 2006)
Von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang, Faust (London: Penguin Books, 2001)
Wilde, Oscar, The Picture of Dorian Gray (Oxford: Oxford World Classics, 1890) 

1 comment:

  1. Faustian Pacts are quite an interesting subject, especially when one thinks about what is actually gained through the deal for both parties. One of the examples I thought of whilst reading through your blog was the old tale ‘Bearskin’, in which a man lives for years in a disgusting state (unrecognisable from a monster) with the promise of happiness at the end of the ordeal. Obviously, the devil in question doesn’t believe the protagonist will stick to his promises, which would lead to the devil taking his soul from him, but when he is successful, he causes the suicides of two girls (from jealousy), thus giving the devil two souls instead of his own. In instances like this, it is hard to say if there is truly a winning party. The devil gains two souls, but has to grant a man a lifetime of happiness, which is obviously out of character, while our protagonist gains happiness, but has caused evil through the suicide of the girls.

    Other interesting examples to think about (the former of which I’m surprised you didn’t address) include Death Note and Little Shop of Horrors. The first in interesting to think about because of the harm (or arguable good) that the protagonist inflicts upon humanity, while in the second, the protagonist survives but after having caused great harm (although again, he does good in the process by eliminating evil).

    ReplyDelete