[The
above video is mostly a reading of the text below, with an occasional aside
thrown in for good measure as they strike me as relevant. I
welcome questions, comments, or concerns about the material contained in this
video.]
“Confessions of a Justified Sinner” is exciting because it wears so many hats – it’s a gothic novel, a murder mystery, and perhaps most of all a trenchant critique of Calvinist thought. It consists of three parts: an objective summary of events in the novel, the events as told through the eyes of Robert Wringham, and the retelling of how the author (who also uses the name James Hogg) came across Wringham’s account of the story. True to the early eighteenth century’s Romantic fascination with all things fragmentary, broken, and incomplete, this novel uses the conceit of being a “found document,” in this case the handwritten history of Robert’s experiences.
The beginning of the novel tells of the marriage of a young, conservative termagant named Rabina to George Colwan, an outgoing, fun-loving man who is put off by Rabina’s extreme Calvinism. Their marriage effectively ends in their separation, but not before he impregnates her (probably in an act of rape), after which she gives birth to George. His father raises him well, and he grows up to be an academically gifted, well-adjusted young man. Shortly after the separation, Rabina’s ultra-conservative religious advisor Reverend Wringham moves in with her, and she soon has another child (this time probably by the Reverend) named Robert, who takes Wringham’s name. Robert turns out to be the anti-George: maladjusted, antisocial, vindictive, and hateful. The Reverend convinces Robert that he is justified in the eyes of God - that is, guaranteed to go to Heaven and be forgiven of whatever sins he might happen to commit on Earth. As one of God’s elect, he can do no wrong.
Even though they were raised separately and never allowed to see one another, sometime during early adulthood, Robert starts to stalk George through the city of Edinburgh, generally causing trouble wherever he goes. George also begins to notice that wherever he is, Robert is also very close by, as if he is being shadowed by a doppelganger. Robert’s malevolent antics do everything from strike terror into the heart of George to causing a town-wide fracas. When George is finally murdered in a drunken brawl, his step-mother encounters a prostitute who claims to have seen the incident. She says that Robert did it. Later, Robert admits to the crime in one of the most revealing confessions in all of literature, putting on full display his strange, perverse motives, obsessions and compulsions about the purity of his soul.
The second part of the novel shifts into Robert’s telling of the story, and we learn of the presence of one Gil-Martin, who has goaded and encouraged Robert’s deviance, even doing so in the name of Calvinistic sanctity and justice. Gil-Martin is also a protean shape-shifter who can assume Robert’s form at will, and commits murder while doing so. At first, Robert understands the necessity of these acts because they are in the name of the greatness of God. But eventually Robert’s doubts start to grow as to how holy Gil-Martin’s murders really are. Even the prototypical Calvinist fanatic ends up having a conscience. At the end of the novel, the reader is still left hanging as to Gil-Martin’s identity. Is he real, or merely a figment of Robert’s imagination?
Some of what I read, I read out of a sense of obligation, because I think I need to. I thought this would be one of those books, too. I was surprised to find that it moved at the clip of a modern psychological thriller, while always maintaining its literariness. If you found anything to admire in Walpole’s “The Castle of Otranto” or Lewis’ “The Monk,” I highly recommend this.
The beginning of the novel tells of the marriage of a young, conservative termagant named Rabina to George Colwan, an outgoing, fun-loving man who is put off by Rabina’s extreme Calvinism. Their marriage effectively ends in their separation, but not before he impregnates her (probably in an act of rape), after which she gives birth to George. His father raises him well, and he grows up to be an academically gifted, well-adjusted young man. Shortly after the separation, Rabina’s ultra-conservative religious advisor Reverend Wringham moves in with her, and she soon has another child (this time probably by the Reverend) named Robert, who takes Wringham’s name. Robert turns out to be the anti-George: maladjusted, antisocial, vindictive, and hateful. The Reverend convinces Robert that he is justified in the eyes of God - that is, guaranteed to go to Heaven and be forgiven of whatever sins he might happen to commit on Earth. As one of God’s elect, he can do no wrong.
Even though they were raised separately and never allowed to see one another, sometime during early adulthood, Robert starts to stalk George through the city of Edinburgh, generally causing trouble wherever he goes. George also begins to notice that wherever he is, Robert is also very close by, as if he is being shadowed by a doppelganger. Robert’s malevolent antics do everything from strike terror into the heart of George to causing a town-wide fracas. When George is finally murdered in a drunken brawl, his step-mother encounters a prostitute who claims to have seen the incident. She says that Robert did it. Later, Robert admits to the crime in one of the most revealing confessions in all of literature, putting on full display his strange, perverse motives, obsessions and compulsions about the purity of his soul.
The second part of the novel shifts into Robert’s telling of the story, and we learn of the presence of one Gil-Martin, who has goaded and encouraged Robert’s deviance, even doing so in the name of Calvinistic sanctity and justice. Gil-Martin is also a protean shape-shifter who can assume Robert’s form at will, and commits murder while doing so. At first, Robert understands the necessity of these acts because they are in the name of the greatness of God. But eventually Robert’s doubts start to grow as to how holy Gil-Martin’s murders really are. Even the prototypical Calvinist fanatic ends up having a conscience. At the end of the novel, the reader is still left hanging as to Gil-Martin’s identity. Is he real, or merely a figment of Robert’s imagination?
Some of what I read, I read out of a sense of obligation, because I think I need to. I thought this would be one of those books, too. I was surprised to find that it moved at the clip of a modern psychological thriller, while always maintaining its literariness. If you found anything to admire in Walpole’s “The Castle of Otranto” or Lewis’ “The Monk,” I highly recommend this.
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