Review of William Beckford's "Vathek"

[The above 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.]

William Beckford, the author of “Vathek,” led a rather remarkable life – so remarkable, in fact, that reviewers and critics are left baffled at how to interpret it other than reading it as a sort of fantastic confabulation of his life. He was born in 1760, son of the two-time Lord Mayor of London; at the tender age of ten years, his father died and left him one of the richest men in the entire country. This allowed him to pursue his interests in art, architecture, and travel, all of which he did on grand scales. His tastes were just as spectacular as his wealth, acquiring over the course of his life Giovanni Bellini’s “Agony in the Garden,” Raphael’s “Saint Catherine of Alexandria,” and Velazquez’s “Philip IV in Brown and Silver.” He took music lessons from Mozart. After very possibly having an affair with his cousin’s wife, as well as another with a boy who just happened to be the son of William Courtenay, Ninth Earl of Devon, he exiled himself to the Continent, where he lived most of his life. 

Vathek was written in 1781 or 1782, while Beckford was in his early twenties. It has heavy Gothic influences, but is very recognizable as one of the “Oriental tales” of which the English reading public could hardly get enough of at the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth centuries. Beckford originally wrote the book in French, only later to have it translated into English by Samuel Henley in 1786 and published by Oxford World Classics. 

However grotesque and bizarre the story, two of its central characters are historical. Vathek is based on al-Wathiq, an Abbasid caliph and grandson of Harun al-Rashid, and his mother Carathis is based on al-Wathiq’s mother, Qaratis. That’s where all historical resemblances end, however. Goaded on by his mother, Vathek seeks out occult learning in the sciences, astronomy, and other “black arts” that shock some of his fellow Muslims, including his counselor-vizier Morakanabad and the eunuch Bababalouk. He is tempted by a demon named Giaour who promises him riches beyond belief in a Palace of Subterranean Fire, and does a number of heinous things to please Giaour, including tossing fifty beautiful boys to appease its bloodlust. 

Vathek then meets the kind, pious Emir Fakreddin, and quickly falls in love with his daughter Nouronihar, who is already betrothed to her young cousin Gulchenrouz. Vathek’s infatuation excites Nouronihar, however, and seems equally greedy for the treasures in the Palace of Subterranean Fire. They eventually reach the Palace, ruled by Iblis (the Devil of Islamic mythology), but it turns out to be something that more resembles Dante than any kind of heavenly reward. Carathis soon joys them there, explicitly having abandoned all Hope, one assumes for eternity.

Because of all the action that takes place in an extremely short novel (this version clocks in right at 120 pages), its pace can seem hurried, confused, and frantic. This is understandable since, in several places, Beckford cites having written it in either two or three days. “Vathek” mostly seems to be a vehicle for Beckford to bandy about his criticisms of middle-class English mores and sexual morality (Nouronihar’s love interest, Gulchenrouz, is often referred to as “feminine” and “effete.”) It can just as easily be read as a very young Beckford trying to come to terms with how he sees himself and his ambitions in relation to those of society less forgiving of thoroughgoing aesthetes. Because of its length, I would recommend this for anyone interested in the ever-popular Georgian-era Oriental tale mixed with high Gothic romance. I don’t think anyone has ever accused Beckford of being a great writer – but it is not without interest, even if it is only the interest of the fascinating eccentric who wrote it.