The Sorrows of Satan

A fascinating and unintentionally hilarious book that illustrates wonderfully the difference between a book being popular and a book being good. Marie Corelli was perhaps the first best selling author (brought about by a move away from the library system to a private buyer system) and she wrote the equivalent of what airport thrillers are today.

A struggling writer is is saved by making a deal with a mysterious stranger, and he begins to descend into vice under the guidance of said stranger, a Byronic Lucifer as the story quickly reveals (and which the title gives away). Along this journey we also meet Mavis Clare, an obvious self-insert of Marie Corelli who opines that if only authors wrote the truth, like she does, they would become show more great like her. She also rails against reviewers and expounds that the people are the ones who recognize true brilliance. Additionally, Clare proves so virtuous and pure a character that Satan himself is utterly powerless to do any harm to her. The devil even admires her virtue.

The character of Mavis Clare would be funny on its own as a blatant example of narcissism on the part of Corelli, and as a sample of the delusion authors fall under concerning their own abilities once they become famous, but what really pushes the novel over the top is the contemporaneous reviews the novel includes. At least in my edition the final pages of the book included several reviews of the book from when it was first released stating that, while the book was sure to be a crowd pleaser, it lacked literary merit and would not stand the test of time. The reviewers were right on the money, which makes the ego trip of Mavis Clare retroactively hilarious. Read this book for a chuckle, not if you're looking for something of actual quality. show less

A terrible, terrible, terrible book. Did I mention that it's terrible?
Actually, it's so terrible that it's nearly hilarious.

An interesting book from a different time, I'll have to re-read it in order to reveiw it more effectively. There's deffinately something a wee bit faustian about it.

Just couldn't get through the awful writing and mystical crap.

Also have a copy Amherst Press, c. 1980, 264 pp. paperback

An enjoyable read of classic horror.