W. Somerset Maugham was an exceptional observer of the human condition, and his novels are a consistent reflection of this fact. His characters are frequently depicted as having notable fragmentations and faults, and the arc of their journeys are seldom predictable in that respect. Moral ambiguity is something that features quite large in many of his stories, with characters typically struggling to locate virtue while simultaneously trying to navigate their place in the world.
In his book The Painted Veil (1925), he gives us a seemingly shallow socialite by the name of Kitty who, in her desperate attempt to avoid the cultural prejudices of early spinsterhood, ends up marrying Walter Fane, an introverted bacteriologist who works for the Chinese government. As it happens, Kitty’s boredom and blatant lack of admiration for her new husband leads her into the arms of Charlie - another married man. Walter soon finds out about their affair and, upon this discovery, makes arrangements for him and Kitty to relocate to a remote town in the Far East, at the very heart of the cholera epidemic. What ensues is a very unexpected, spiritual awakening for Kitty.
Among other things, Kitty is forced to make the best of a bad situation. Her greatest trauma in this respect is not the fear of exposure to disease, but rather the agonizing absence of social stimulation – not to mention the sheer longing for the man she left behind. She is challenged to make peace with her loyal (but under-stimulating) husband, and orient herself to some kind of meaningful existence in the jungle civilization. She eventually comes into contact with a small group of nuns working in the village and finds herself inexplicably drawn to their unusual devotion and faith.
Though Kitty remains decidedly agnostic in her religious outlook, she nevertheless finds herself inspired by the way in which the nuns are able to eschew all forms of self-preservation. To her, these sincere, faithful women are the ultimate example of altruistic behavior. She is humbled by their devotion. Haunted by it, even. In a short matter of time, she is moved to volunteer her services in their missionary work and eventually becomes a fixed part of their community.
Over the course of her time in the remote, disease-infested village, Kitty also becomes increasingly aware of her husband’s notable reputation in the community. She discovers that he is both respected and dearly loved by these vulnerable and helpless people. Time and again, Kitty is reminded of the positive impact her husband is having, and the significance of his selfless ambition as he labors night and day to better understand and help eradicate the epidemic. Consequently, as Walter’s sense of morality becomes ever more developed in Kitty’s eyes, she likewise begins to recognize the shallow and emotionally-stunted nature of her former lover, Charlie.
What follows, however, is not your typical romance story. Told exclusively from Kitty’s perspective, we witness an unfolding situation where a young woman is faced with the proposition of doing the right thing even though it flies in the face of convenience and natural passion. And while her sense of honor becomes significantly more evolved as a result of her unusual circumstances, she doesn’t necessarily benefit from a fully transformed heart. In many respects, Kitty is still the same person she always was, but instead of simply giving in to her lusts and self-absorbed tastes she chooses to venture forward with a mind to live as meaningfully as she can – all the while remaining cautious of her propensity to slip back into the depravity of her former character.
In some ways, the precariousness of her new devotion is symbolized by her own unexpected pregnancy in the novel. She has no way of knowing whether the father of her unborn child is her husband’s or her lover’s. Similarly, she is given no guarantee as to the future and, as such, all she has left in her power is the ability to choose how she will conduct herself, regardless of the conditions that have brought her to this point.
Kitty’s quest is, in sharp contrast to the flippancy of her selfish habits, to simply be honest with herself as she pursues a natural sense of peace. Maugham depicts her transition in the following way:
She hoped with all her heart that she had learnt compassion and charity. She could not know what the future had in store for her, but she felt in herself the strength to accept whatever was to come with a light and buoyant spirit.
Among other things, The Painted Veil can be appreciated for how it associates the act of contribution with spirituality. Kitty is a person who struggles to comprehend her place within her community. She is accustomed to satisfying her appetites (both sexually and socially) and, finding herself thrust into an unfamiliar set of circumstances without any of her typical comforts, she is forced to look outside of herself for a much deeper sense of purpose.
While she doesn’t consider herself a religious person, she recognizes something in the local nuns that she clearly envies – but in a meaningful way. She is stunned by their unusual sense of humanity and selflessness, to the point where she sees no other option but to join their ranks of service and to commit herself to a cause that is greater than herself. At the very least, she commits herself to a profession of sacrifice and compassion, even though she remains decidedly unconvinced of the nuns’ theological doctrines. But that was never really the point for her
anyhow.
Like Kitty, we have difficulty existing when we lack a sense of purpose. For some people, that sense is conveniently satiated with fleeting pleasures and distractions, though I wouldn’t say that such a lifestyle is truly fulfilling. Life is never really experienced when all we’re doing is ‘killing’ the time we have, no matter how stimulating the activity might be. As the famous Irish playwright Dion Boucicault once said, “Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them.”
Maugham’s book is a timeless portrayal of mental wellness. You could even say that this theme lies at the very heart of the story itself – evidenced in the way in which the main character is challenged to forsake what is most comfortable to her and to face the very thing which demands her greater potential. And even over the course of meeting such a challenge, we are taught the sober lesson that commitment doesn’t always guarantee consistence of behavior; it doesn’t promise the perfection of character, and Kitty is a well-developed example of this fact – as the story reveals. As can be argued from the book, what ultimately matters is that a person applies themselves to the aspiration of something that makes better use of their humanity; something that tasks them to make their space in the world actually mean something. Such a pursuit is not merely a powerful resistor to depression and anxiety, it is an antidote to pointlessness.
We live in a strained and stressed world by virtue of the fact that we are sensual creatures with complex appetites, and there are simply too many individuals who cater to those appetites indiscriminately. To resolve ourselves to this baser part of our nature is to exacerbate, on an individual level, the pointlessness of our race. But by contrast, when we choose to apply ourselves to an act or to an idea that either reduces pain or inspires better thinking, we become contributors of a better-functioning world. We effectively raise the bar from primitive survival to something significantly more amplified. And we can feel the difference.
But this is not to say that we need to reach for unreasonable flamboyance in our achievements. As we see in Kitty’s character, she simply recognized a gap and felt compelled to fill it, in her own personal way. So too can we apply ourselves to something that is wanting in our community, or even in our own families – to begin with. The point is that we feel considerably healthier and more alive when we position ourselves in relation to a need that exists somewhere. This is where ‘spirituality’ can really be exercised. It is the moral principle to give one’s self to something that is of value, and to experience a wholesome benefit as a result.
But most importantly, the benefit of this type of exercise doesn’t come through external validation or from the praise of others. It can only come from within.
As Kitty’s friend, the Mother Superior, advises her:
One cannot find peace in work or in pleasure, in the world or in a convent, but only in one's soul.
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