If you pick up A Maggot by John Fowles expecting a standard historical drama, you’re going to be deeply confused within about twenty pages. It’s a strange book. Honestly, it's a bit of a nightmare for anyone who likes their plots linear and their genres neatly labeled. Published in 1985, it was the last major novel Fowles released before his death, and it feels like he stopped caring about what the critics wanted and decided to dump every obsession he had—religion, feminism, science fiction, and the nature of truth—into one massive, shifting puzzle.
The title alone throws people off. In the 18th-century sense, a "maggot" wasn't just a larva. It meant a whim, a quirk of the mind, or an obsession. Fowles is playing with you from the very first word.
The Setup That Isn't a Setup
The story starts in 1736. A small group of travelers is riding through the English countryside. There’s a mysterious lord, his servant, a middle-aged man, and a young woman named Rebecca who is pretending to be someone she’s not. They look like characters out of a Jane Austen novel if Jane Austen had a dark, occult streak. They’re heading toward a cave in Devon. Then, the "Lord" disappears, his servant is found dead by suicide (or was it?), and the whole narrative shatters.
Most of the book is told through legal depositions. It’s basically a 18th-century "true crime" transcript. An investigator named Henry Ayscough is trying to piece together what happened in that cave. He’s a man of logic, law, and rigid social structures. But the witnesses he interviews—especially Rebecca—start describing things that don't fit into the 1700s. They talk about a "silver ship." They talk about visions of a future world.
Is A Maggot John Fowles’ Foray into Sci-Fi?
This is where the book gets controversial among literary circles. Rebecca’s account of what happened in the cave sounds suspiciously like an encounter with a UFO. She describes a metallic, mechanical chamber. She sees visions of a "New Jerusalem" that looks a lot like a high-tech, egalitarian future.
Fowles never confirms if this was a literal alien encounter or a religious hallucination. That’s the brilliance of it. For Rebecca, who becomes the mother of Ann Lee (the real-life founder of the Shakers), there is no difference between a miracle and a machine. She lacks the vocabulary for technology, so she uses the vocabulary of God.
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It’s a brilliant move. Fowles forces us to confront how much our "truth" depends on the tools we have to describe it. Ayscough, the lawyer, thinks she’s lying or mad because his "maggot"—his obsession—is the law of the land. Rebecca’s "maggot" is a spiritual awakening that transcends the misery of her life as a former prostitute.
Why the Structure is a Total Mess (On Purpose)
You’ll notice something weird as you flip through the pages. Every few chapters, Fowles inserts actual pages from The Gentleman’s Magazine from 1736. He includes real news reports of the era—executions, tax disputes, smallpox outbreaks.
Why? Because he wants to ground the weirdness. He’s contrasting the dry, brutal reality of the 18th century with the soaring, impossible visions of his characters. It makes the book feel like a found-footage horror movie before that was even a thing.
The sentence structure in these sections is dense. It’s hard to read. You have to slow down. Fowles isn't interested in a "page-turner" in the modern sense. He wants you to feel the weight of the past. He wants you to feel the claustrophobia of a society where women were property and "truth" was whatever the man with the highest title said it was.
Rebecca as the Ultimate Fowles Heroine
If you’ve read The French Lieutenant’s Woman, you know Fowles loves a woman who defies her era. Rebecca in A Maggot is Sarah Woodruff on steroids. She starts the book as a "disposable" person—a prostitute hired to play a part in a nobleman’s weird ritual. By the end, she is the most powerful person in the story because she is the only one who has seen the "light."
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She’s the one who bridges the gap between the 18th century and the Shaker movement. Fowles was fascinated by the Shakers because they believed in gender equality and communal living. In the context of 1736, those ideas were more "alien" than a silver ship in a cave.
Key Themes to Keep in Mind:
- Dissent: The book is a love letter to people who say "no" to the status quo.
- Epistemology: How do we know what we know? (Spoiler: We usually don't).
- The Male Gaze: Ayscough’s interrogation of Rebecca is a masterclass in how men try—and fail—to categorize and control female experience.
The Reality of the Shaker Connection
One of the most impressive things about A Maggot is how Fowles weaves in real history. Ann Lee, the founder of the Shakers, was a real person. She really did preach that God was both male and female. She really did lead her followers to America to escape persecution.
Fowles takes the "maggot" of history—the tiny, overlooked details—and grows a whole universe out of them. He’s suggesting that the madness of one generation becomes the religion of the next. It’s a wild, ambitious theory that makes the book feel much larger than its plot.
The "UFO" in the Room
Some readers hate the sci-fi elements. They feel it "ruins" a perfectly good historical novel. But that’s missing the point. If Fowles had just written a story about a girl who joins a cult, it would be boring. By introducing the possibility of time travel or extraterrestrials, he forces the reader into the same state of confusion and awe that the characters feel.
You aren't just reading about a miracle; you’re trying to figure out if it's a miracle or a trick. That’s the exact tension of the 18th century—the Age of Enlightenment bumping up against the remnants of the Age of Faith.
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Getting Through the "Hard" Parts
Let’s be real: this isn't an easy beach read. There are long stretches of legal jargon. The 18th-century English is thick. Sometimes Fowles goes on tangents about the nature of the novel itself.
But if you stick with it, the payoff is massive. It’s one of those books that changes how you look at history. It’s not just a series of dates; it’s a series of psychologies. It’s a reminder that people in the past were just as complicated, horny, terrified, and imaginative as we are.
Actionable Insights for Reading A Maggot
If you’re planning to tackle this beast, don't try to speed-read it. You’ll lose the thread. Here is how to actually enjoy A Maggot by John Fowles without getting a headache:
- Read the Gentleman’s Magazine inserts. Don't skip them. They provide the necessary "boring" context that makes the "crazy" parts work.
- Focus on the voices. Notice how Rebecca’s voice changes throughout the depositions. She goes from being a victim to being a visionary.
- Accept the ambiguity. Fowles is never going to give you a "scooby-doo" ending where he explains how the ghost was just a guy in a mask. The mystery is the point.
- Research the Shakers afterward. Seeing how the fictionalized Rebecca aligns with the historical rise of Shakerism makes the ending hit much harder.
John Fowles didn't write A Maggot to be liked. He wrote it to be reckoned with. It’s a book about the birth of a soul, the death of a nobleman, and the weird, thin line between insanity and revelation. It's a difficult, brilliant, frustrating, and ultimately rewarding piece of literature that proves Fowles was one of the most daring writers of the 20th century.
Stop looking for a straightforward plot and start looking for the "maggot"—that tiny, persistent idea that changes everything. It’s in there, buried in the depositions and the Devon mud, waiting for you to find it.