The Way of All Flesh

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 1903

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Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapters 1-19

Chapters 20-37

Chapters 38-53

Chapters 54-69

Chapters 70-86

Character Analysis

Themes

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

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Themes

Faith Versus Secularization

The Way of All Flesh charts Ernest’s transition from a believing, obedient child to a skeptical, independent adult as a natural result of Ernest’s experiences.

Throughout his youth, Ernest feels pain and sadness at his inability to measure up to his parents’ high, religiously-inflected expectations for him. Up to and even beyond the point of his ordination, Ernest never doubts the teachings of the church and his parents. The more he follows their counsel, the less happy he becomes but also the less aware he becomes of his own unhappiness, like a “very young foal trying to eat some most objectionable refuse, and unable to make up its mind whether it was good or no" (192). Only after a climactic experience lands him in prison does he begin to see a way forward.

Ernest proceeds to reevaluate everything he thought he knew through a new, rational lens. Finding inconsistencies in the Bible, he discards it as a source of ultimate truth, but he does not abandon faith entirely. Instead, the subject of his faith changes from the God of Christianity to “something as yet but darkly known which made right right and wrong wrong” (229). From that moment on, Ernest shows more interest in seeking knowledge than in enforcing adherence to any predefined system, such as the church. Though he fails to find a philosophical first principle on which all others rest, Ernest finds a certain satisfaction in doing so: “Having, in fact, after infinite vexation of spirit, arrived at a conclusion which cut at the roots of all knowledge, he settled contentedly down to the pursuit of knowledge” (253). In essence, Ernest demythologizes his search for truth, focusing on scientific inquiry and cultural analysis.

The results of Ernest’s transition from religious dogma to rationalism are subtle but significant. Morally, his opinions change surprisingly little, as he admits much of Christian morality to be “indisputable,” setting aside the miraculous elements. In his writings discussing issues facing the church, Ernest’s bold reasoning leads to conclusions that are “conservative, quietistic, comforting” (304). Ernest’s ability to write persuasively regarding religious matters, despite his own lack of religious belief, ties into his discovery that virtually all persons of various creeds share a similar ideal of the “most perfect gentleman” (230); he goes on to endorse the development of “well-bred men and women” as “the highest good” worth pursuing (305). Accordingly, Ernest seeks not to overthrow the church but to guide it and other such institutions in the direction of progress. As he says to Overton, “No man’s opinions […] can be worth holding unless he knows how to deny them easily and gracefully upon occasion in the cause of charity” (315). The advantage of Ernest’s secular ideal, then, is not the establishment of one great truth as a replacement to discarded ideas but rather the possibility it suggests of a tolerant, pluralistic society, where beliefs might vary but are not enforced tyrannically. Historically, Butler presents Ernest’s journey to an open-ended mindset as part of a wider trend, with Ernest serving as a trendsetter, suggesting the viability of such a future.

The Family as a Barrier to Individual Well-Being

Throughout The Way of All Flesh, Butler examines various family dynamics to show how they can impede individual development and well-being.

One aspect he considers is the relationship between parents and children. Using Christina and Theobald as examples, Butler draws attention to the imbalance inherent to parent-child relationships, allowing parents to dominate their children, both physically and emotionally. As Overton explains, addressing parents, “You carry so many more guns than they do that they cannot fight you. This is called moral influence, and it will enable you to bounce them as much as you please” (20). Ernest is particularly naïve, assuming well into adolescence that his parents are virtually faultless. Within this context, religion serves as a tool for parents to use in controlling their children, “lest the offspring should come to have wishes and feelings of its own” (82). So effective is the combination of church and family at perpetuating parents’ wishes at the expense of their children that it takes years of struggle and fortunate circumstances for Ernest to finally break free.

Butler also considers the relationship between marriage partners as a potential burden to one or both partners. On the day of Theobald’s marriage to Christina, he feels a sense of impending doom at the thought that he will be trapped and connected to her from then on; he proceeds to exercise dominion over her from the start, citing his privilege as husband. Christina, for her part, is a devoted wife, though Overton occasionally wonders whether her marriage to Theobald draws out her most problematic characteristics. Similarly, Ernest’s marriage to Ellen is fraught with difficulty for each of them, as Ernest struggles to support Ellen’s costly drinking even as she drowns her sorrow at her supposed inferiority to Ernest in drinking. Overton cites their partnership as a limiting factor in Ernest’s business success: “It seemed even then as though he were likely to go ahead no less fast than heretofore, […] if success or non-success had depended upon himself alone. Unfortunately, he was not the only person to be reckoned with” (254). By creating an unending link of obligations between two inherently volatile individuals, both risk coming out the worse, and Ellen is no less relieved to be free of Ernest than he is to be free of her.

Instead of presenting clear-cut solutions to the problems he raises regarding family dynamics, Butler seems content to raise questions and hint at alternatives. Alethea, who seems uniquely enlightened, chooses never to marry despite an abundance of suitors. Overton laments the fact that human generations cannot remain separate instead of going through a lengthy and difficult parenting process. Ernest resolves not to marry again, and he also opts not to raise his children, for fear of continuing the cycle of discontent established in previous generations. He looks forward to a day when the family is relegated “to the lower and less progressive” (79) communities and sets out to discover what the next chapter in the development of human society might look like.

The Influence of Circumstance on Choice

Throughout the novel, Butler shows a keen awareness of various factors that influence his characters’ choices and development.

Some of these factors are hereditary in nature. He opens the novel with an extensive look at the generations preceding Ernest to show what kind of trajectory and expectations predate Ernest in the Pontifex line. Overton considers Ernest’s parents as typical of their family lines, pointing out that, for them to be different than they are, they would have to be “born again each one of them of a new father and of a new mother and of a different line of ancestry for many generations before their minds could become supple enough to learn anew” (211). Accordingly, he describes Ernest’s “conscious self” as a “prig begotten of prigs” (101).

Butler also notes the influence of circumstantial factors on individual development. During Ernest’s interview with his parents about his activities at school, Overton describes him as being “not strong enough for his surroundings” (141) before he yields to his parents. For Ernest to overcome such an established and hereditary pattern of life, a significant external shock is necessary. Overton credits Ernest’s fall from grace and subsequent imprisonment with bringing about his change of heart: “What if circumstances had made his duty more easy for him than it would be to most men? That was his luck” (227). Ernest is thus no more responsible for his outcomes than Christina is for supposedly choosing to marry Theobald, “for that she had had a choice was a fiction which soon took root” (52), according to Overton. He suggests that she could have made an excellent landlady under different conditions.

In attributing characters’ actions primarily to the circumstances of their birth and environment, Butler reduces both the heroic nature of his admirable characters and the villainy of the less likeable characters. Mr. Shaw, the tinker, voices his opinion that Ernest, then acting as a clergyman, has good intentions but was “real bad brought up” (200). Similarly, when Overton catches himself feeling angry at Theobald and Christine, he reminds readers that the system of the church, rather than the individuals who support it, should be held responsible for spreading so much misery.

In the end, Butler does not take a definitive stance on the possibility of choice in a world where so much comes down to chance and circumstance. Nor does he view the distinction between internal and external influences as particularly meaningful, instead holding that we “must see everything both as external and internal at one and the same time, subject and object” (234). Such questions are, as Butler suggests, virtually impossible to settle. Like Ernest at the novel’s close, instead of focusing excessively on impossible-to-answer hypothetical questions, Butler offers a practical call to awareness of the role of circumstance in determining choice. This might inspire some readers to make more deliberate choices regardless of their circumstances, even if encountering the novel is, paradoxically, a matter of circumstance.