Appearance
Excerpt
Excerpt from Enoch Soames: A Memory of the Eighteen-Nineties, by Sir Max Beerbohm
An authentic, guaranteed, proved ghost, but; only a ghost, alas! Only
that. In his first visit Soames was a creature of flesh and blood,
whereas the creatures among whom he was projected were but ghosts, I
take it--solid, palpable, vocal, but unconscious and automatic ghosts,
in a building that was itself an illusion. Next time that building and
those creatures will be real. It is of Soames that there will be but
the semblance. I wish I could think him destined to revisit the world
actually, physically, consciously. I wish he had this one brief
escape, this one small treat, to look forward to. I never forget him
for long. He is where he is and forever. The more rigid moralists
among you may say he has only himself to blame. For my part, I think
he has been very hardly used. It is well that vanity should be
chastened; and Enoch Soames's vanity was, I admit, above the average,
and called for special treatment. But there was no need for
vindictiveness. You say he contracted to pay the price he is paying.
Yes; but I maintain that he was induced to do so by fraud. Well
informed in all things, the devil must have known that my friend would
gain nothing by his visit to futurity. The whole thing was a very
shabby trick. The more I think of it, the more detestable the devil
seems to me.
Of him I have caught sight several times, here and there, since that
day at the Vingtieme. Only once, however, have I seen him at close
quarters. This was a couple of years ago, in Paris. I was walking one
afternoon along the rue d'Antin, and I saw him advancing from the
opposite direction, overdressed as ever, and swinging an ebony cane and
altogether behaving as though the whole pavement belonged to him. At
thought of Enoch Soames and the myriads of other sufferers eternally in
this brute's dominion, a great cold wrath filled me, and I drew myself
up to my full height. But--well, one is so used to nodding and smiling
in the street to anybody whom one knows that the action becomes almost
independent of oneself; to prevent it requires a very sharp effort and
great presence of mind. I was miserably aware, as I passed the devil,
that I nodded and smiled to him. And my shame was the deeper and
hotter because he, if you please, stared straight at me with the utmost
haughtiness.
To be cut, deliberately cut, by HIM! I was, I still am, furious at
having had that happen to me.
Explanation
Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from Enoch Soames: A Memory of the Eighteen-Nineties by Max Beerbohm
Context of the Work
Enoch Soames: A Memory of the Eighteen-Nineties (1916) is a satirical and melancholic short story by Sir Max Beerbohm, a British essayist, caricaturist, and parodist known for his wit and social commentary. The story blends supernatural elements with a critique of literary vanity, artistic failure, and the cruel ironies of fate.
The plot centers on Enoch Soames, a failed poet of the 1890s who, desperate for posthumous fame, makes a Faustian bargain with the Devil: in exchange for his soul, he is allowed to travel 100 years into the future (to 1997) to see how he is remembered. The twist is that, upon arriving in the future, Soames discovers he has been entirely forgotten—except as a minor character in a story by Max Beerbohm himself. The Devil, knowing this all along, has tricked Soames into damnation for nothing.
The excerpt provided comes near the end of the story, where the narrator (a fictionalized version of Beerbohm) reflects on Soames’ fate, the Devil’s cruelty, and his own humiliating encounter with the Devil in Paris.
Themes in the Excerpt
The Tragedy of Obscurity and Vanity
- Soames’ greatest fear—being forgotten—has come true. The narrator laments that Soames is now "where he is and forever," trapped in eternal damnation with no consolation. His vanity ("above the average") led him to make a deal with the Devil, but the punishment far exceeds the crime.
- The narrator sympathizes with Soames, arguing that while vanity deserves chastening, the Devil’s trick was unnecessarily cruel. This reflects Beerbohm’s own ambivalence about artistic ambition—both mocking and pitying those who crave fame.
The Devil as a Symbol of Cosmic Indifference or Malice
- The Devil is not a grand, dramatic figure but a petty, overdressed dandy who swings an ebony cane and acts as if he owns the world. His cruelty is bureaucratic, almost casual.
- The narrator’s rage at the Devil is not just moral but personal—he is furious that the Devil, who orchestrates eternal suffering, would have the audacity to cut (snub) him in public. This absurdity underscores the Devil’s arrogance and the narrator’s helplessness.
The Illusion of Reality and the Nature of Ghosts
- The narrator plays with the idea of what is "real." In Soames’ first visit (to the future), he was flesh and blood among "ghosts"—people who were solid but "unconscious and automatic," living in a world that was an "illusion."
- Now, in the present, Soames is the ghost, a "semblance" while the world goes on without him. This inversion suggests that time and existence are fluid, and fame (or the lack of it) determines one’s substance in the grand scheme.
Shame and Social Hypocrisy
- The narrator’s automatic nod and smile to the Devil—despite his hatred—highlights the absurdity of social conventions. Even when faced with evil, politeness takes over.
- The Devil’s refusal to acknowledge him (cutting him) is a final insult, reinforcing the power dynamics between mortal and infernal. The narrator’s shame is not just personal but existential—he has been complicit in the Devil’s world by even acknowledging him.
Literary Devices
Irony (Dramatic and Situational)
- The entire premise is ironic: Soames sought immortality but achieved only damnation and obscurity. The Devil, who knows the future, lets Soames damn himself for nothing.
- The narrator’s automatic politeness ("nodding and smiling") in the face of evil is darkly comic—social etiquette persists even when confronting the Devil.
Paradox and Contrast
- Soames was once real in an illusory future; now he is a ghost in a real world.
- The Devil is both a grand figure (ruler of Hell) and a petty one (snubbing someone on the street).
Tone: Melancholic Satire
- Beerbohm’s tone oscillates between wry humor and genuine pathos. He mocks Soames’ vanity but also feels sorry for him.
- The description of the Devil is both ridiculous (overdressed, swinging a cane) and terrifying (eternal tormentor).
Symbolism
- The ebony cane suggests the Devil’s dark authority but also his performative nature—he acts like he owns the world.
- The street encounter symbolizes the banality of evil—it doesn’t announce itself with thunder but with a cold stare.
First-Person Reflection
- The narrator’s personal involvement ("I never forget him for long") makes the story feel like a confession or eulogy. His anger at the Devil is not abstract but deeply felt.
Significance of the Passage
A Critique of Artistic Ambition
- Beerbohm, himself a successful writer, explores the dangers of vanity in art. Soames’ desire for fame leads to his ruin, suggesting that obsession with legacy is a kind of self-destruction.
- The story can be read as a warning to artists: the future may not care about you, and the pursuit of immortality is futile.
The Devil as a Literary Device
- Unlike traditional depictions of Satan as a grand tempter, Beerbohm’s Devil is a bureaucrat of damnation—cold, efficient, and slightly ridiculous. This reflects modern disillusionment with cosmic justice.
- The Devil’s snub is the ultimate humiliation because it reduces eternal suffering to a petty social slight.
The Unreliability of Time and Memory
- The story blurs the line between past and future, reality and illusion. Soames’ fate suggests that time is not a straight line but a loop of futility.
- The narrator’s memory of Soames keeps him "alive" in a way, but only as a cautionary tale.
Existential Dread and Human Helplessness
- The narrator’s rage at the Devil is also a rage at the universe’s indifference. Soames is damned not because of grand evil but because of a shabby trick—life (and the afterlife) is arbitrary.
- The automatic politeness toward the Devil underscores how powerless humans are, even in the face of obvious evil.
Close Reading of Key Lines
"An authentic, guaranteed, proved ghost, but; only a ghost, alas!"
- The repetition of "ghost" emphasizes Soames’ tragic state—he is real in his suffering but insubstantial in the world.
- The "alas!" is a mock-elegiac touch, blending pity with irony.
"The more rigid moralists among you may say he has only himself to blame."
- The narrator anticipates judgment but rejects it, arguing that the punishment doesn’t fit the crime. This challenges the reader’s own moral assumptions.
"The whole thing was a very shabby trick."
- The word "shabby" reduces the Devil’s grand evil to something petty and cheap, making it more disturbing.
"To be cut, deliberately cut, by HIM!"
- The exclamation marks convey the narrator’s outrage. The Devil’s snub is not just rude—it’s a cosmic insult, reinforcing his dominance.
"I was, I still am, furious at having had that happen to me."
- The shift from past to present tense ("was" to "still am") shows that the narrator’s shame and anger are ongoing, suggesting that the encounter was not just a moment but a revelation of his own powerlessness.
Conclusion: Why This Passage Matters
This excerpt encapsulates the story’s central tensions: between vanity and oblivion, power and helplessness, reality and illusion. Beerbohm uses dark humor and sharp observation to explore the futility of artistic ambition and the cruelty of fate. The Devil is not a grand villain but a petty tyrant, making his victory over Soames (and his snub of the narrator) all the more infuriating.
The passage also serves as a meta-commentary on storytelling itself—Soames lives on only because Beerbohm wrote about him, turning the story into a self-aware meditation on legacy. In the end, the narrator’s anger at the Devil is also a kind of grief: for Soames, for the unfairness of the world, and for the fact that even in the face of evil, human beings are often too polite (or too powerless) to do anything but nod and smile.