Rating: 
Summary: The kind of book you reread a thousand times . . .
Review: . . . or maybe two thousand. I am another person who read this book because a friend had read it, and was so enthusiastic about it that I could not bear not knowing what she was talking about. That was two months ago. I've read it twice since then, and started college, and any myriad of other things.In brief: It's a traditional tale; young man of means (Charles) is engaged to socially acceptable, safe young woman (Tina). He meets enigmatic, enticing other woman; finds her incredibly attractive; his life changes utterly and completely because of this. (Sounds a bit like _The Age of Innocence_.) Ah, but as a reviewer said about another eminent author, describing the plot does not begin to describe the novel. The plot is to the book as noodles are to tuna noodle casserole: important, but not half of it. The book is set in Victorian England; it is rife with philosophical speculation, but not in such a way as to make you feel that you are reading a textbook. He sets forth Charles's experiences and his changing worldview in such a sensible way, letting you draw Charles's conclusions with him. Fowles does an amazing job of showing you his mind, as well as those of lesser characters. Which brings me to another point. Even if you do not like the philosophical side of it, TFLW is worth reading for the language and the style. It is written in Victorian English, with a strange twist of modernity (mid-twentieth century and ageless modernity). Fowles is amazing at showing-not-telling (as the English teachers counsel) and his descriptions will blow you away. On top of all that, it is a good story. It is not a happy story, really, but it is not, in truth, depressing. It's romantic, it's elating, it's sad, it's powerful . . . It is the kind of story you want to reread immediately. Which I did.
Rating:
Summary: Words fail me....
Review: ...or not quite, as this review stands as a testament to the fact that I do have something to say about 'The French Lieutenant's Woman'. It is a quite brilliant novel: wise, stimulating, compelling, sad, extraordinary. Fowles is a twentieth century author the equal of George Eliot, Jane Austen and Elizabeth Gaskell. He is an acute social commentator who regularly achieves what few authors are capable of - he creates a compelling story with real moral weight and makes the reader apply the questions at its core to themselves. He is a moralist without Eliot's tendency to preach, unfettered by the moral code of the nineteenth century writers, yet still not shying away from the complexities of his characters' situations. 'The French Lieutenant's Woman' brings a twentieth century view to a nineteenth century story quite brilliantly, showing how a century can change the code a society operates under, but not what drives its human beings: the need for acceptance and the desire for intimacy. Sarah is one of the great enigmas of twentieth century fiction, and casts a spell over the reader as much as she does over Charles. I shan't go into the details of the plot, but suffice to say that Fowles' prose is exemplary, his characters complex and charismatic, and his narrative masterly. And again, the denouement is astonishing.
Rating:
Summary: In my memories, one of my favorite books.
Review: In college, I loved this book. Since then, much has changed. I've gotten married, and have
three kids, a big mortgage, etc.
Oh well, forget all that for a moment. This is still a great book. It brings you back into the
time of Victorian England with such vivid detail that you feel like you've just visited the place.
The prose is wonderfully poetic, but never falls in love with itself. The plot is the classic tale of
the Mysterious Woman, beautiful, forbidden, hauntingly distant, and yet so temptingly near. Just
what is she really thinking? Just what does she really want? Charles is the young bachelor, torn by duty to marry the
Proper Woman, versus his love (or is it just lust?) for the French Lieutenant's Woman. The
novel manages to bring this all to a brilliant conclusion while leaving you hanging in suspense.
When the movie came out, in the early 1980's, with Meryl Streep, I rushed out to see it, and
was appalled. I have never forgiven Meryl Streep for taking the role of the French Lieutenant's
Woman, and ruining the book; to this day, I refuse to see any of her other movies. The movie's
producers also helped to trash the novel by changing the entire structure of the story. But, most
importantly, the role of the French Lieutenant's Woman should have been played by someone
with real sex appeal and a hint of danger and mystery. In that era, it could have been someone
like Charlotte Rampling; later, someone like Michelle Phillips. Anybody but Meryl Streep!!
I remember this book now in the context of the success of "The English Patient". With a set
of terrific actors and actresses, and a gifted director and producer, the movie was far better than
the book, making people take interest in what was otherwise a pretentious and over-written piece
of fluff. Conversely, I think that because the movie version of "The French Lieutenant's Woman"
was so bad, people have gradually forgotten this book. Too bad, it is still a great book
Rating:
Summary: Kicks A.S.Byatt's derriere!!!
Review: A novel that can be read on a multitude of levels this is a masterpiece. As a deconstruction of textual boundaries, as best represented by the Victorian romance novel, and as a reconciliation of polyphony (multiple text sources/styles) Fowles work here places him amongst the greats of the century. He has taken some of the great questions of modernist and postmodernist writing and answered them experimentally but also accessibly. The sucess of this final point is best demonstrated by the masses of readers who happily devour this novel as a tragic romance. As a sidetrack I disagree with the reviewer from Ottawa, the film version is fine if you divorce it from the novel(as it is always healthy to do when viewing adaptations). As to my keyline I am referring to the spare prose of Fowler which shows up Byatt's somewahat flowery attempt at the same field of reinterpreting the romance.
Rating: 
Summary: Is it possible to have negative stars?
Review: After reading this book for a college history class, i can only say that john fowles is an unrivaled bullsh*t artist. while exploting victorian stereotypes to justify his own obivous perversion, he also is under the misconception that he is intelligent. he is not. he talks about leaving elements of the plot "open" as if he has just invented the concept. his conversational style makes you feel as if he is in the room with you as you read the book. while some may consider this an advantage, my being in a room with mr fowles would produce 2 effects: projectile vomit and an assault&battery conviction. only an moron would be impressed by his idiotic postmodern-pseudointellectual comments about how the characters act indepently of his writing. i have wasted precious brain cells reading this glorified chick flick. i cannot believe that i have taken the time to even review this garbage, but, after seeing so many 5-star reviews, i feel that it is my moral duty to add some intelligence to this page.
Rating: 
Summary: Book vs. Movie
Review: Alternate endings, authorial interjections, primary source documents, epigraphs; just a few techniques John Fowles uses to turn his Darwinian novel, The French Lieutenant's Woman, into a unique resurrection of classic Victorian literature. With all of the literary devices that Fowles employs in his novel to make it-according to one reviewer-"so utterly compelling," it comes as no surprise that this novel does not adapt easily to the screen. In fact, the screenwriter, Harold Pinter, completely disregards the true intended nature of the aforementioned rhetorical strategies in his adaptation of the novel.
Instead of portraying these essential elements as Fowles wrote them, Pinter creates a "movie within a movie" by constructing a passionate affair that the actors portraying Sarah and Charles involve themselves in while filming the screen version of Fowles' novel. He then cleverly weaves the two stories-one taking place in the 1860s and '70s, the other in the late-1970s/early-1980s-in and out of each other. He does so in order to give the audience a sense of the comparing of times that Fowles produces by interjecting 1960s views-on subjects including politics, religion, and social customs-in the classic style of the Victorian novel. Pinter sees this as an opportunity to use both of the novels endings, as well-the "happy" ending for the screen lovers, and the more realistic for the "real" lovers. Despite the deliberate effort to make the endings seem as genuine as possible, the do not invoke in the audience the "Mystery of the True Ending" that the novel does. And by utilizing the double-romance technique, Pinter falls prey to time constraints.
Pinter realizes that he must sacrifice plot developments and some of the other devices that make this Fowles novel unique. For example, Pinter discards of Fowles' use of the epigraphs and primary documents (including case reports) that give The French Lieutenant's Woman its Darwinian flair. Again, Pinter hopes to achieve this sense of evolution and historicism by comparing the Victorian love story with the modern one, but for anyone that has read the novel, the film just seems to lack that "something." Pinter also cuts what many readers consider key plot points from the story. This makes grasping character motivations very difficult, despite the obvious attention to detail given to keeping the dialogue consistent with that in the novel. For example, not a single frame of the film mentions Charles' uncle and the fact that Charles will no longer inherit his uncle's estate. Nor does the film address the lengths to which Sam goes to try to ensure his and his soon-to-be-bride's financial security. Without Fowles' rhetorical ingenuity and sub-plots that reveal characters' drive, the film slips further into the pattern of slaughtering the makeup of the author's creative skill.
Surely anyone who's read the book will most likely concede that they would rather adapt virtually any other book for the silver screen than The French Lieutenant's Woman. John Fowles' narration technique, designed to involve the audience in the story by speaking directly to them, and the infamous alternate endings present the most difficult aspects of the novel to overcome in the rewriting process. Surely there must exist a better way to show these aspects of the novel than the way that Pinter ultimately released it. Perhaps a narrator or even Shakespearian-inspired, one-man chorus could narrate the film in a truly Darwinian fashion, making it almost seem like a romantic documentary. Therefore, it would not seem absurd to include some of Fowles' side comments, and the narrator could then even plug in a few epigraphs or primary document excerpts. The problem of the alternate endings would then also be solved: the narrator would present them as John Fowles does in the novel. Obviously this version of the film would last longer than the two hours that Pinter's version fills, but without the second, parallel love story, the new version would occupy less time than one might think. Even so, this new longer, documentary-like version would probably not reap the same fiscal benefits that the 1981 blockbuster did, but at least the film would uphold the integrity of Fowles' novel.
Despite paltry attempts to portray Fowles' literary flair on screen, the film version of The French Lieutenant's Woman comes off as nothing more than a summary of the dominant plotline with a few glimpses into the lives of people that readers of the book have no acquaintance with. Do not misconceive this, however, as a complete bashing of the film. In deed, the film portrays Lyme Regis in an extremely visually stimulating manner, having been shot on location. And the cast, including Jeremy Irons and Meryl Streep, did an outstanding job playing the well-dialogued characters that, due to unfortunate adaptation circumstances, had very little motivation to guide them. But what does exemplary acting and an aesthetically pleasing setting matter if no one makes an effort to uphold the artistic integrity of the piece that inspired the film? The novel's authorial interjections, alternate ending, epigraphs and primary source documents give the novel its reverence in the literary world. Without them, the film completely fails to capture the essence of the novel, no matter how well it portrays the dialogue and visual aesthetics of the book.
Rating:
Summary: A Masterpiece
Review: Although not widely discussed, the themes in this novel exemplify the human experience from the point of view of an existential philosopher. One could sit and read works by Sartre or Kierkegaard and never understand the true meaning of existentialism; yet by reading this book, the essence of the underlying philosophy becomes clear. This book vividly illustrates important aspects of our lives as human beings - with and all its trials, tribulations, and choices. The French Lieutenant's Woman inspires insight for the reader and a deeper understanding of life, love, and free will.
Rating: 
Summary: not worth my time
Review: Although some of the imagery and reminders of a bygone era were nice, I found this book rather annoying. This is partly because for one I think Victorian England is a very pathetic period of our existence (so why did I read a Victorian-esque novel? Hmm...), and two, I didn't like the author's style of interjecting himself into the story. Just as you start to get into the book (which took me 100 pages), he devotes an entire chapter to explaining how the story isn't real after all, how it's all made up, explaining the creative process, bla bla bla. For someone who doesn't much like fiction to begin with, this about ruined any further effort to continue reading.
I found Sarah Woodrough's character unconvincing, and the language excessively wordy (but again, that is a Victorian thing, back when writers were paid by the word for the works they produced). So I guess Fowles wrote a good book, if you enjoy spending hours reading about how a woman's reputation was ravaged because she dared show her ankles to a stranger (ok, a bit exaggerated, but not far from the truth). Overall, to paraphrase Shakespeare, an alternate title for the book should have been "The French Lieutenant's Woman, or, Much Ado About Nothing."
But hey, I think most fiction is a waste of time, so don't listen to me. Many readers here seem to think it warranted 5 stars.
Rating:
Summary: Intriguing Work of Art
Review: Fowles exploits worn out themes to a near masterpiece level. "The French Lieutenant's Woman" is certainly my preferate (out of his writings), so utterly Hardyan in nature, from characters to plot. If it wasn't about the last Chapiter, I would rate this novel as "goodly enough", nothing more. The falsely pessimistic way it ends was perhaps the best reading experience of my life. Yes, "falsely pessimistic"!!! Despite the excrutiating sorrow, despite the deep humiliation, Charles finally is about to make a choice, whether to kill himself or continue living, but on different parameters. Following the second option, he might come with the conclusion I've reached in a similar situation: all principles, even our most beloved, are relative. Love is what we label as such, under our own principles which might be different, even opposing to what "SHE" feels and dreams about.
Rating:
Summary: Incredible - but a disappointing ending
Review: Fowles' writing style is incredible; lucid and honest. He demonstrates a deep knowledge and understanding of the Victorian era and this really comes through to the reader. I was utterly engrossed in the story of Charles and Sarah but was really disappointed in the ending. It didn't seem to fit and after reading the rest of the book it was a let-down. But it was worthwhile even so, just for the experience of the great ninety percent of the FLW.
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