This short story originally appeared in the New York periodical "The Spirit of the Times" on December 20, 1879, as "The Magic Spectacles."
This early work by Wilkie Collins was originally published in 1879. Born in Marylebone, London in 1824, Collins' family enrolled him at the Maida Hill Academy in 1835, but then took him to France and Italy with them between 1836 and 1838. Returning to England, Collins attended Cole's boarding school, and completed his education in 1841, after which he was apprenticed to the tea merchants Antrobus & Co. in the Strand. In 1846, Collins became a law student at Lincoln's Inn, and was called to the bar in 1851, although he never practiced. It was in 1848, a year after the death of his father, that he published his first book, The Memoirs of the Life of William Collins, Esq., R.A., to good reviews. The 1860s saw Collins' creative high-point, and it was during this decade that he achieved fame and critical acclaim, with his four major novels, The Woman in White (1860), No Name (1862), Armadale (1866) and The Moonstone (1868). The Moonstone, meanwhile is seen by many as the first true detective novel - T. S. Eliot called it "the first, the longest, and the best of modern English detective novels...in a genre invented by Collins and not by Poe." Many of the earliest books, particularly those dating back to the 1900's and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions.
Wilkie Collins was an English novelist and playwright, best known for The Woman in White (1860), an early sensation novel, and The Moonstone (1868), a pioneering work of detective fiction. Born to landscape painter William Collins and Harriet Geddes, he spent part of his childhood in Italy and France, learning both languages. Initially working as a tea merchant, he later studied law, though he never practiced. His literary career began with Antonina (1850), and a meeting with Charles Dickens in 1851 proved pivotal. The two became close friends and collaborators, with Collins contributing to Dickens' journals and co-writing dramatic works. Collins' success peaked in the 1860s with novels that combined suspense with social critique, including No Name (1862), Armadale (1864), and The Moonstone, which established key elements of the modern detective story. His personal life was unconventional—he openly opposed marriage and lived with Caroline Graves and her daughter for much of his life, while also maintaining a separate relationship with Martha Rudd, with whom he had three children. Plagued by gout, Collins became addicted to laudanum, which affected both his health and later works. Despite declining quality in his writing, he remained a respected figure, mentoring younger authors and advocating for writers' rights. He died in 1889 and was buried in Kensal Green Cemetery. His legacy endures through his influential novels, which laid the groundwork for both sensation fiction and detective literature.
Brilliant story with some interesting twists. Sir Alfred receives the devil's spectacles from Septimus Notman, his father's old caretaker, who's on his deathbead now. Why did he receive those glasses? Well, in his account he refers to an Arctic expedition with a cruel detail to satisfy his hunger (Dickens also said something about that practise). Alfred gives those glasses a test and they really work. He gets cheated by the butler, a schoolfriend regards him as milk cow for money but what about his beloved girl friend and soon-to-be wife? His mother has another wife in mind for him by the way. Is she a good person... can the glasses give him good advise which woman to choose for his wife? Great story with some fine directions and an excellent ending too. Absolutely recommended. You will devour that classic tale and think about the story every time you pass by an optician's.
The motif of arctic exploration is not unique during the Romantic period in which many authors, such as Mary Shelley and Coleridge, utilize the setting of a sub-zero climate and its dangers to highlight the macabre and mysterious nature of their plots and characters. In Wilkie Collins’s short story “The Devil’s Spectacles” the artic setting is reminiscent of such Romantic literary locations where characters are confronted with what they fear most — in this case, the devil and the dark nature of humanity. Septimus Notman propels the tale by admitting on his deathbed to being a cannibal through eating his dead friend during an arctic adventure to save himself from starvation. Upon his contemplation appears the devil with a pair of spectacles for Notman, which will give him the extra push needed to turn him from borderline sinful to full-fledged brute. These spectacles allow their wearer to “read everything in [one's] mind, plain as print” and must be passed on to a different man before Notman can die.
When Notman dies, Alfred, his rich, empathetic, moralistic caretaker finds interest in the spectacles because he wants to determine whether he’s made the right choice to betroth himself to his poor maid, Cecilia, or if he should have followed his mother’s wishes to marry his young cousin Zilla. “Cecilia,” which means “blind,” proves to have some indecipherable thoughts running through her mind: either they are very deceitful, or they are completely innocent and benevolent. Alfred falls under the sway of the spectacles to believe that Cecilia is cheating on him with Sir John — a vague figure who once proposed to her and was refused. After hiding in the bushes with his mother and eavesdropping on Cecilia’s conversation with a wayward maid, they both learn of Cecelia’s noble heart and Alfred never returns to the spectacles, passing them into Sir John’s hands.
The tale is rather more drab than it pretends to be in the first chapters, but it signals a couple important transformations and continuations between the Romantic and Victorian functions of the artic adventure. Shelley’s Frankenstein, for example, exclaims of his artic trespass: “Prepare! your toils only begin: wrap yourself in furs and provide food; for we shall soon enter upon a journey where your sufferings will satisfy my everlasting hatred.” It is the scene of hellish retribution. Frankenstein here comes head-to-head with his creature-ish creation. There is, perhaps, little less than the sublime element in the arctic, and it brings about deep pain that seems to continue on into infinity.
Collins’s artic is punctuated. The devil is there — perhaps an ode to Dante’s Inferno in which Satan, weeping from his three colorful faces, is planted beneath a sheath of ice — but he doesn’t permeate beyond the artic; his malignancy is short-lived in England. England undoes some of his evil work. Here, the poor, innocent, faithful, and in-love Cecilia comes with a message to be “blind” to the devil’s spectacles; in her is the truth: in woman.
I read this short story from Delphi Classics, Complete Works of Wilkie Collins, 2012. The forward to the story quotes Collins as saying "These stories have served their purpose in periodicals, but are not worthy of republication in book form. They were written in a hurry, and the sooner they are drowned in the waters of oblivion the better. I desire that they shall not be republished after my death.".
I thought this story was quite good. It was short but other than the length of the story, the idea was a good one. The devil tempts Septimus Notman, a sailor stuck on the ice in the Arctic. He tempts him with glasses which allow him to see what people are really thinking as opposed to what they actually say. The Devil saves him from certain death in the Arctic. Later in life on his death bed, he gives the glasses away to his master Alfred.
Can a person resist temptation such as this? If you were given these glasses, would you use them first before giving them away? I think it depends on the individual. The Devil tempts man by using what he perceives as each man's greatest weakness. In this case, the Devil saw an individual that wanted to know what others thought of him and he in turn chose someone with that same weakness to pass the glasses to.
Spoiler: the glasses do work but they only show the faults of the people you view them with, not their merits. As is said in the story: "if we are to live usefully and happily with our fellow creatures, we must take them at their best, and not at their worst".
I'm working my way through Wilkie's short stories. I'm enjoying them so far, and The Devil's Spectacles was a fun one. I especially liked Septimus and his origin story.
This is fascinating. I really loved it, even though I know Wilkie Collins did not want it reprinted. It's like supernatural Jane Austen, and I'm here for it.