OCT. '25 | THE COLLECTOR - JOHN FOWLES
finished oct. 5
This book was SICK and I LOVED it!!!!!111!! I’m not usually someone who minds being spoiled, but I do believe that this is the kind of book where you really should go in blind. So, as a big warning, spoilers are in this review! It was written with the assumption that the reader has already read this book. And it gets a little personal.
I wanted so badly to know what was going to happen to Miranda. I was balancing hopeful optimism and bracing myself for a bleak reality— and of course the latter happened. With every word Miranda said, I rooted for her more and more. It wasn’t just the desire to see someone escape a hopeless situation, it was the fact that she was so real.
Miranda was a person with a desire to do things. To see the world, to make it better, to “learn and learn and learn and learn” (her own words!). She had so much to live for and yet her entire being was flattened by Frederick. The first time Frederick talks about Miranda, it’s about her looks. And every time afterwards, it’s never about her thoughts or how she feels— Miranda’s nothing more than a butterfly to pose and pin. There’s a special kind of disgust I feel for people who believe that they’ve found someone who understands them while they do nothing to return that understanding. I’ve been through that before, and I saw myself in Miranda *so* much. “But I’m other things. I have other things to give.” Of course, her situation as a whole would automatically make anyone feel sympathy. But the dynamic between Miranda and Frederick was too fucking real. Every time she wished to be recognized for something other than her looks, I felt it. Because it’s so belittling— and dare I say dehumanizing— to only be superficially wanted.
From the attempts at conversation that Miranda makes, it’s clear that Frederick never really tried to understand her. She NEVER asked for anything that happened to her. But you see her words and actions twisted into whatever Frederick wanted them to mean, and I think about how the same thing happens all the time. It’s happened to me. It’s probably happened to you. And being able to see myself in her place made it all the more sickening to watch.
I loved this book because it was sick and it made me feel so angry. I realize that it provided commentary on an abundance of things, from class to the desolate state of the world (which sadly holds up to this day), but Miranda’s character was what I liked most about it. Getting to the ending only to see that Frederick had come out of the situation smarter and would most likely be doing the same thing all over again just had me going “fuuuuuuuck”. But reading that didn’t feel like defeat. It just made me even more determined to live like Miranda should have. It was great. Would recommend.
Here’s a handful of my favorite quotes from the book (sorry, I read this on an e-reader so no page numbers)
“He wants me living-but-dead. I felt it terribly strong today. That my being alive and changing and having a separate mind and having moods and all that was becoming a nuisance.”
“Anyway, I couldn’t respect anyone, and especially a man, who did things just to please me. I’d want him to do them because he believed they were right.”
“It’s him. And it’s this weird male thing. Now I’m no longer nice. They sulk if you don’t give, and hate you when you do. Intelligent men must despise themselves for being like that. Their illogicality.” This quote in particular struck me because I wasn’t expecting to see a man be described as illogical by a book written in the 60’s and particularly by a male author. So often it’s the opposite, you know?
“It’s me he wants, my look, my outside; not my emotions or my mind or my soul or even my body. Not anything human.”
“I love honesty and freedom and giving. I love making, I love doing. I love being to the full, I love everything which is not sitting and watching and copying and dead at heart.”
