"Rain" by Somerset Maugham

On social media, or even in conversation, I've noticed that my acquaintances tend to be primed and ready to point out certain kinds of weaknesses in people who claim to be Christian, using labels such as self-righteous or sanctimonious; narrow-minded or bigoted; and -- above all -- hypocritical.  It is not uncommon for such labels to be applied reflexively, and with a sneering assumption that some hidden and warped sexuality underlies expressed moral principles or aspirations.  (Particularly true with labels such as sadistic or puritanical, for example.)

One of the most fascinating aspects of "Rain" is that Maugham manages to describe the medical missionary Mr. Davidson -- and his many failings -- without resorting to labels.

These labels have such power in our culture that it is almost difficult to summarize Davidson's character in neutral, non-stereotypical terms.  Here's my best effort: Davidson is revealed to us as controlling, vindictive, and utterly lacking in compassion.  Indeed, it becomes increasingly clear that he is not distressed by the suffering of others, nor merely indifferent to it, but is instead grimly pleased by it. 

Maugham shows us all this, and more, through Davidson's words and conduct, and through the reactions of Dr. Macphail and others -- not through labels.  The author trusts us to read between the lines and make the necessary inferences.  When Davidson's hypocrisy blossoms (off-stage) into a physical form that even he himself cannot mistake, it destroys him; largely because his own personal version of "Christianity" lacks mercy, pity, and the opportunity for redemption.

This strikes me as a powerful way to tell a story; it does not have the sweeping effect of generalized ad hominem attacks (all Christians are bad unless proven otherwise), but it brings to life a very particular, individualized danger which Christians ignore, perhaps, at their peril.

As for the Macphails, I will probably need to meditate further on the story before I fully resolve their characters to my own satisfaction.  They start, of course, somewhat dazzled by the Davidsons' relative social standing: "Mrs. Macphail was not a little flattered to think that she and her husband were the only people on board with whom the Davidsons were willing to associate, and even the doctor, shy but no fool, half unconsciously acknowledged the compliment."  Dr. Macphail's attempts to intervene are sporadic and ineffectual, and I'm left thinking of the Yeats line ("The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.").  But there may be more to it than this.