This book addresses in a very straight forward manner the duality of man. It’s actually pretty interesting seeing a topic that is often only shown symbolically talked about so straight-forwardly. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are the same person or rather fractions of a whole. Jekyll, a chemist, is intrigued with “duality of man” and thinks man would be happier if halves good and evil could split and become separate entities, so that a man is never conflicted by conscious but always sure and unregretful in his choice of action (65). No morality means no regret; no regret translates to personal happiness.
I thought this was a good book-enjoyable if you didn’t view it in a way that was immensely complicated, just a straight and linear mystery. I took issue with the books afterward by Jerome Charyn that seemed to give a forced interpretation, adding layers to a book that works better two-dimensionally. The afterword, though, says it’s beyond “simple allegory” (92). Of course this can be argued, but the afterword author doesn’t prove this well. This idea of Hyde as a pale “scribbler” writing blasphemies is what founds his entire argument that Stevenson wanted himself to be reflected as Hyde (90). Stevenson did not follow in the footsteps of his ancestors and become a lighthouse engineer, but a writer. Charyn thinks that this proves that Stevenson wrote the character of Hyde as a reflection of himself. However, the author seems to ignore the fact that Hyde is pure evil. If Stevenson wanted to defend his choice of career why would he portray himself as evil? Hyde is not a character that can be perceived incorrectly, like how Stevenson’s family saw him. Stevenson may have hated himself or regretted his own actions. However, this is not addressed by Charyn; he believes this case of “scribbling” is enough to prove his point.
Charyn also creates a lot of argument based on doubting the reliability of the story and characters. He says “virtue wins, if you trust Jekyll’s account”. Jekyll obviously would have been an unreliable narrator. He’s too invested in the story, a man made unstable by good and evil. Utterson takes his place. He’s “long, lean, dusty, dreary” but “loveable” perfectly human in contrast to Jekyll, perfectly flawed (1). But Charyn thinks we cannot even believe virtue wins if it comes about in Jekyll’s narrative. If we cannot even believe in virtue, how does he expect us to suspend our disbelief and believe anything else of the preposterous magic/science that drives this story? He also doesn’t offer an alternative: How does evil win or does no one win at all?
This book is best enjoyed if you are willing to accept what is told outwardly, if you are not to over-analyze. I like the idea that virtue and moral standing always outs, maybe I’m being naive or unwillingly to look passed the obvious, but in a time when we’re told that the “happy ending” (if you can even call it that in this book) is clichéd, it’s satisfying to think, sometimes, good does win in the end.
