The Razor’s Edge by W. Somerset Maugham (Review)
A dear friend recommended this book, which is generally what it takes for fiction to make it on my reading list. Fortunately, there is a great deal to think about in this unique and engaging story of Larry Darrell and the varied acquaintances in his life. The Razor’s Edge is unique because it is told from the perspective of a narrator who is the author. W. Somerset Maugham created a fictionalized character who he spends the story interacting with and observing. Consequently, he is not an omniscient narrator but unfolds the layers of a Larry and the many concepts he wrestles with: war, death, life, marriage, profession, and more.
Larry is a former WWI pilot who returned to Chicago a changed man. The death and destruction he observed changed him, and placed a barrier between him and all the friends he had before the war. The experience caused him to think deeply about what he valued, and the result is a story that is contemplative and engaging. I wholly enjoyed the book and recommend it to anyone. Even if the thinking elements are not a draw, the story itself and exploring how things would turn out for Larry make The Razor’s Edge a compelling read.
As suggested above, there was much to think about in Maugham’s book, and here are some of my observations:
I enjoyed this line as Maugham described the engaged couple, Larry Darrell and Isabel Bradley: “she not only loved him but was fond of him.” It seems like concurrently holding both those postures is far too rare in relationships, yet it is a great joy when it exists.
Maugham offered the following advice to Larry: “I never went to Cambridge as my brothers did. I had the chance, but I refused it. I wanted to get out into the world. I’ve always regretted it. I think It would have saved me a lot of mistakes. You learn more quickly under the guidance of experienced teachers. You waste a lot of time going down blind alleys if you have no one to lead you.”
Larry Darrell: “You may be right. I don’t mind if I make mistakes. It may be that in one of the blind alleys I may find something to my purpose.”
Yet Larry didn’t know his purpose. Maugham sensed that Larry was wrestling with something. What we find soon is that Larry wanted only to loaf.
When Larry mentioned without detail that his best friend in the war died saving his life, I immediately thought of the brilliant line from the BBC’s, Sherlock: “By saving my life, she conferred a value on it. It is a currency I do not know how to spend.”
Isabel asks Maugham why Larry would learn so much without a purpose. Maugham responds: “Some people have a disinterested desire for knowledge; it’s not an ignoble desire…perhaps it will be sufficient satisfaction merely to know…or a step toward something further.” That desire for knowledge has been a core element of what I want to pass on to my children. There are few principles more compelling than a desire for wisdom.
When Maugham was juxtaposing passion and love, he argued that love cannot continue once passion is extinguished. He intertwined passion with sexual attraction and noted that once passion fades, love become something else: “affection, kindliness, community of taste and interest, and habit—especially habit.” Sex might continue after passion fades but it’s merely functional. As Maugham continued describing passion, he notes the critical element is pursuit and impediment, not satisfaction. Passion seizes the heart and convinces of love. It seems ironic that Maugham, a bachelor in the story, claims expertise on the subject. Relatedly, Larry too speaks often of love, yet he lives a life with almost complete detachment from others. Such an approach runs counter to loving well. As Maugham observed, Larry might be the only person who is truly and wholly disinterested.
Elliot Templeton, Maugham’s friend and Isabel Bradley’s uncle reminded me often of The Great Gatsby, because of his integration with Europe’s high society. Elliot had a deep longing for something he could not find irrespective of the heights he achieved amid the elite, and Maugham’s storytelling of this angle struck me as far more compelling critique than Fitzgerald’s. Relatedly, Eliot’s end of life was pathetically sad in his realization that investing his life in societal climbing led to no satisfaction at the end.
When Larry described his disappointment at not marrying Isabel (years after the fact), I found myself skeptical in light of how he actually responded when they canceled their engagement. There seemed to be complete indifference.
Larry had two points that perplexed him and hindered his faith: (1) God’s preoccupation with being praised—he couldn’t believe that God cared about receiving praise from mankind; and (2) the preoccupation in Christianity with sin. Larry thought the bad people he knew were bad because of heredity or society. How could they be condemned for such a lot? Larry continued by asking, “If an all-good and all-powerful God created the world, why did He create evil?” The monks said that it was so man could conquer sin and thus he made worthy of God’s grace. Inversely, Dr. William Lane Craig argues that evil is not a created thing but a privation of reality. He likens it to cold, which is the absence of heat. Cold is not illusory; for you know it is cold when there is no heat. Similarly, God’s rightly order can be ignored and defied because of what God created: free will.
I’ve heard this phrase used repeatedly and found it interesting when the Indian swami spoke to Larry: “A god that can be understood is no god.”
Larry later said that he found it pathetic that the founders of religion made it a condition of salvation to believe. He also said that knowledge and reason is also a path to salvation (Vedanta). An irony of Larry’s exploration is that he described his pursuit as one of reason, yet his description of each realization was always one of complete sensory experience and feeling—not belief grounded in reason. The idea he pursues is self-perfection according to his own standard.
As suggested above, The Razor’s Edge was an excellent and engaging story that I enjoyed. Yet the author also tackled a bevy of philosophical issues that offered opportunities to think about many of the elements that people wrestle with (or should wrestle with) today. I am quite choosy when it comes to reading fiction, and this book is one that I’m certainly pleased to have read.
