How John Fowles Wants One to Read the Magus, Suggested by the Conchis - Nicholas Relationship

John Fowles portrays in The Magus a world specifically tailored to and woven together for the main character Nicholas Urfe, an intelligent young man from London who at the beginning of the novel is trying to find his place in the world. After deciding on a teaching position on the Greek island Phraxos, Nicholas encounters the strange old man Conchis who would appear to have created a fantastic psychological '" or fictional or novelized - experience just for Nicholas, one which after much skepticism and questioning Nicholas sinks his teeth into. The way Conchis presents this illusory world is at first very much similar to a staged play (as pointed out several times by Nicholas in the beginning of his encounters with Conchis), but as the experience continues to develop it becomes more apparent that the relationship between Conchis and Nicholas is one more akin to the author or novelist toward at first the reader then later the protagonist of that novel, with Conchis' "god game" being very novel-esque in nature. Several quips between Conchis and Nicholas allude to this sort of relationship between them, with Nicholas playing the role of the questioning reader toward the beginning then becoming the "god game's" central protagonist later. Through this relationship Fowles suggests several things about the process of reading novels as a whole, the results of which can be seen in the "god game's" effects on Nicholas.
At first Nicholas takes the role of the reader, constantly questioning the scenario Conchis was building much as how a reader would like to know what is going on in a novel. When reading a novel, the reader does not generally like being kept in the dark; they keep reading to find answers to the questions that they build up throughout the course of the novel. Without this sense of mystery and intrigue and the demand to know the answers to the questionable situations presented to them, the reader has nothing to fix their attention on and the novel gets stale, this sense of questioning keeps the story going (a novel that introduces a bunch of confusing questions or elements and fails to explain them would be ultimately considered a failure). Nicholas gets hooked into Conchis' game in this exact way; he is initially confused by the thought of an eccentric and clearly rich man living on the other side of the island, but he continues to investigate and falls victim to the reader-author relationship, as seen by his excitement during his time away from the game: "It was not in the least a literary feeling, but an intensely mysterious present and concrete feeling of excitement, of being in a situation where anything still might happen" (Fowles, 160). The fact that Nicholas is unsure of the answers to all of his questions about the game up until this point coupled with the fact that he is unsure of what could possibly answer these questions drives his excitement for the game, keeping his mind fixated on it. Without these questions, a relationship comparable to the reader with a novel who has questions to ask, Nicholas would simply see Conchis as a strange old man with an extravagant house on the other side of the island and would essentially stop playing the game, or reading the novel.
Fowles' commentary on this relationship based on questions is strange, however, resulting in him suggesting a unique and unorthodox way (conflicting with the way readers usually read novels) for readers to take on novels. In his reader-like role early on, again Nicholas is constantly questioning everything around him and nearly every illusory aspect of the game. Notably though, he is questioning these things only in his head, because as soon as he starts to actually ask Conchis (the author) about what is going on around his estate, Conchis instantly demands that Nicholas cease all questions and simply believe. This dismissal can be seen when Nicholas inquires about one mysterious element to the story '" Conchis' background: "How did you first come here, Mr. Conchis?' 'Will you forgive me if I ask you to not ask me questions?" (Fowles, 88). This agreement to keep his questions to himself continues through their relationship and evolves into a conversation held later, when Nicholas questions a different element of the game in the form of voices in the night. Conchis responds with: "I do not ask you to believe. All I ask you is to pretend to believe. It will be easier" (Fowles, 140). It seems that the idea Conchis is trying to get through to Nicholas is not to question every element of the game / story around him and instead just let them unfold before his eyes '" from there Nicholas can choose whatever he wants to believe to be true. Without asking these questions, what is driving the reader (in this case Nicholas) to continue? This idea puts a lot of weight toward the notion that Nicholas must trust in Conchis' ability to explain to him every element of the story at some point since not only would it be selfish of Conchis to expect Nicholas to blindly agree with and follow his story, but if Conchis by the end has failed to answer these plot questions then his story would be considered a failure. This suggestion of the suspension of disbelief in the Conchis-Nicholas relationship could be applied to the relationship Fowles has with us as readers, meaning that for at least this novel the reader, like Nicholas, also should not ask questions and that we should place our trust in Fowles, believing that Fowles will fulfill all of our expectations before the end of the story. Fowles continues with this idea later in the novel in another scene which condemns Nicholas' notion of asking questions. After interrogating Lily about who she really is and her general background, they have an exchange which results in Lily shouting: "Why must you always know where you are? Have you never heard of imagination?" (Fowles, 201). Through Lily in this scene Fowles extends his argument from a matter of trust between the reader and the author to that of a lack of imagination '" the reader always asks questions to try and relate the story to their own life / reality (doing this would help the reader in understanding the fantastic situation portrayed), and through this idea Fowles challenges the reader's ability to simply accept an unrealistic idea, or an idea of fiction.
The interpretation of fiction or the unbelievable is another idea which can be found in Fowles, an opinion of his which comes out through Conchis in a few passages. Conchis several times expresses his disdain for fiction as a whole; when Nicholas argues that reading novels and fiction should be for fun Conchis rips back "Fun!' He pounced on the world. 'Words are for truth. For facts. Not fiction" (Fowles, 99). He later explains this further, saying "I do not object to the principles of fiction. Simply that in print, in books, they remain mere principles" (Fowles, 236). Conchis' biggest problem with novels and fiction is that they offer too few words of wisdom or really points of actual meaning, and whatever words of wisdom a novel or work of fiction actually contains seem not to be put into practice '" readers simply read them and move on without applying the lesson learned.
Combining this interpretation or purpose of fiction with Conchis' vocalized stance on questioning plot elements presents an interesting juxtaposition on how to properly read a work of fiction or novel. One should not question every element of a story presented to them as if they were looking for realistic answers; instead they should be focusing on the true meaning of the story '" that is, the few morals the work is trying to get through to the reader. Constantly questioning every element of a story distracts the reader from understanding the important implications of the work. If the reader simply focuses on trying to get the real meaning behind the story, they would not need to question every detail around them and in turn they can trust that the author will make sense of everything by the end. If the author of a novel writes with the intention of conveying a certain point to the reader (as Conchis calls a "principle of fiction," since every fictitious work usually has a statement to make), we can trust that the author is going to try his best to get us to realize that point. He is going to set up the story with that statement at the end of it all, and whatever confusion may come the reader's way we can trust there is a specific reason behind it, to help us get toward that ultimate point. It would seem that as Conchis expects of Nicholas this way to read the "god game," Fowles expects of us as readers to read The Magus, since we are put through the same confusing situations as Nicholas due to the fact that we are encountering the fantastic elements of the island as Nicholas is. As confusing as the novel may get, Fowles wants us to stick it out and not focus on every specific confusing element of the story since surely he is trying to get us toward some underlying point.
Assuming this interpretation of the text, it would appear that the Conchis-Nicholas relationship is structured as it is to reinforce the trust between Fowles and us as readers of The Magus. Just as Nicholas at first is confused of the stage-like performances and overall supernatural elements of the "god game," we are confused by many of the same aspects of the novel when trying to get a grasp of things like the real setting or the true motives behind characters; and similar to how Conchis wants Nicholas to trust in his "god game" Fowles wants the reader to trust in The Magus since both ultimately have a point to make, and the authors of each plan on doing their best to get us and Nicholas toward that point. This non-analytic and trust-based way of reading a novel is quite unique, but both the "god game" and The Magus appear to deliver on their promises of getting us to a certain moral or purpose.