Rating: 
Summary: He Said, She Said
Review: The Collector was John Fowles's first published novel. It is the tale of a misunderstood nerd named Fred Clegg, a clerk and butterfly collector who wins a substantial sum of money, and Miranda, the beautiful young art student he becomes obsessed with. The first section of the book is written from Fred's point of view, and you get a good view inside the mind of the insane as he makes it seem reasonable, almost inevitable, when he kidnaps her and keeps her prisoner in his hidden basement. Even though it is obvious that he is mad, the reader can't help but feel some sympathy for him, even as he deteriorates into his criminal acts.
The suspense of the novel is very well done, and from the beginning, it's hard to put the book down. Fred tells Miranda his name is Ferdinand, because he thinks the name sounds more sophisticated and exotic. So we have Ferdinand and Miranda. Get it? We got it. Evidently, so did Miranda, because in the second section of the novel we get her point of view, and she refers to him as Caliban in the journal she keeps during her captivity.
Much is made of the class difference between the two in their own point of view narratives. Fred kidnaps Miranda because he doesn't have a chance with girls of her type, and in her captivity, she comes to know him, and they have a strange relationship of jailer and prisoner, tormentor and victim. As she comes to know him, she finds herself almost seeking his company as the only human being she has seen since he took her. But she is still held prisoner, as much a part of his collection as the butterflies pinned to his display trays.
The pacing of the book is so quick, it was over before I knew it. The writing is intense, and the point of view of the captive and captor are both explored in a startlingly realistic, in-depth character study, examining human emotion, connections, religion, art, and the driving need for freedom. The ending is foreshadowed from the beginning, so although it's not really a surprise, the suspense of following the events from both perspectives keeps the reader riveted.
Rating: 
Summary: A Journey into Minds
Review: This book cherishes freedom, not to act, or to think, but to live and to breathe. If you haven't been giving this kind of freedom much thought, this book is going to unsettle you. With Fowles I was on a journey into two minds, with their untold obsessions, their uncertain hopes and their personal insecurities to a point where, in reaching the final destination, I was seriously alarmed. This book takes innermost human thought to the furthest possible end. Need I say more?
Rating:
Summary: Good read
Review: The Collector, by John Fowles, illustrates a man obsessed with a woman to the point of insanity. Ferdinand, the antagonist of the novel, is a misfit of society. Growing-up as a loner, he develops a passion for collecting butterflies. He feels the need to possess the beautiful creatures with no concern for their freedom and beauty displayed in nature. After secretly observing Miranda, the protagonist of the novel becomes crazed with desire to trap her and add her to his collection. Miranda's beauty and grace as well as her life are destroyed during Ferdinand's possession of her.Love is an underlying destructive force in The Collector. Both characters believe that Ferdinand's "love" for Miranda is what is keeping her prisoner but only Miranda knows it will destroy both of them. Miranda by death and Ferdinand by insanity.
Rating:
Summary: A Must Read
Review: I took a chance on this book, having thoroughly enjoyed The Magus I felt it was a safe bet. I was amazed at how Fowles could get me to feel such compassion for Clegg inspite of himself. I truly believe he did love Miranda in the only way he knew how. It obviously was not a healthy love, more of an obsession really, but I felt sorry for him more than anything. THen you get to part two and take on Miranda's side of the equation. It was the tugging of the heart strings on both sides that made this a beautifully written novel. Fowles gives humanity to both characters and because of this makes The COllector impossible to put down. Definitely a must read.
Rating:
Summary: Depressing
Review: John Fowles is the man responsible for the greatest novel of the twentieth century, The Magus. He hasn't published a novel in fifteen years; literature's great loss. Fowles deserves profound admiration. His skill is astounding, his command of narrative is unsurpassed. Perhaps my own favourite aspect of his fiction is the manner in which he handles sensational material in a highly artistic fashion. The Collector is a good example of this. A middle class girl is kidnapped by a working class clerk, the collector of the title, who keeps her captive in his basement. The novel is probably the most depressing work of fiction ever published, after Ian McEwan's The Child in Time. The Collector is intense, claustrophobic, frightening, finally almost unreadable. Fowles is his two characters. His skill at presenting them is matchless. And this is the problem. He's too good. The book provides no sunshine, no resolution, not even a sliver of faith in the human capacity for kindness. It is relentlessly bleak and pessimistic, but only because (paradoxically) Fowles is such a good writer. Read The Magus instead; a joyous celebration of storytelling, suspense and mystery.
Rating:
Summary: As a Novel--Pure Bliss!
Review: I hadn't read much in my eighteen years on earth when I found myself in the navy, and a shipmate handed me a dog-eared paperback of John Fowles' THE COLLECTOR. He thought I'd like it. He was right. I read it, and it unleashed joys I could scarcely fathom. Reading that book was like seeing something for the first time, and right away I knew I had found my great interest in life. It was like a key turning in a lock. Or falling in love for the first time. The difference between what my teachers had previously told me about literature and what I discovered in Fowles' novel was like the difference between being told about germs and then actually seeing them in a microscope, squirming around and alive. The door to the mysteries of literature had opened. And what a mysterious room it was!
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Summary: Department of Morbid Details
Review: A copy of this book was found in the "inner sanctum" room of the concrete torture bunker operated by monstrous serial killers Leonard Lake and Charles Ng in the mid-'80s. A painted plaque on the wall of the bunker read: "Operation Miranda."
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Summary: a strong novel about extreme weakness
Review: John Fowles was way ahead of his time when he released The Collector in 1963. After coming across this title in serial killer/true crime books over the years, I decided to find out why so many authors felt the need to refer to The Collector. After reading it, I fully understand the connection. The Collector is a flawed, but brilliant first novel. The weaknesses of the predator and of the prey dominate the text. Your sympathies will be divided before they are finally erased altogether. The two main characters have few, if any redeeming characteristics, which is the element that fills this novel with gothic shades of gray. The Collector is easily realistic enough to be a true crime masterpiece. Forget Kiss The Girls and books like it. This is the original...the best of its kind. This one left me feeling cold and empty, not unlike the feeling I was left with after reading Albert Camus' The Stranger. This is not a race against time mystery. It is a delicate exploration into the realm of misery and desolation.
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Summary: "Hell is other people."
Review: Fowles's first novel got a lot of notice when it was published in 1963. It still packs quite a punch, although two of his later novels (THE MAGUS and THE FRENCH LIEUTENANT'S WOMAN) are far more highly regarded. Nevertheless, much of Fowles's sense of life is here in this smaller-scale novel. The tragedies of this book are quiet, private ones. The deliberately banal voice of the kidnapper balances against the frantic, emotional voice of the victim in her diary. Neither seems able to reach out to others, and their limitations control them. It's not hard to place this book's existential themes (Fowles was always interested in philosophy), but I've never shaken the statement he made about the title character of this book--that the man isn't at fault or responsible for what he does. I think that lets him and far too many people like him off the hook. There are many more like him around now almost 40 years after the book was published, and they won't take responsibility for the damage they do to others. If they're not responsible, who is?
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Summary: JUST A NOTE
Review: Just a quick note to the "reader from Singapore": Why did you give away the ending of the book in your review? For Goodness sakes this system is supposed to let people review and critique, not ruin the book for others. Try to be a little more responsible when ranting on in an online review.
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