A Maggot has left many a reader silently wondering what to make of it, as the novel is thematically so unlike any of previous author's books. The story leads us to the magical countryside of 17th century South-West England where we meet a strange bunch of travellers who, as we shall soon realise, are not what they seem to be. The most mysterious are the identities of a young nobleman and his deaf and dumb servant. We cannot be sure about the other three people either, although their identities are later revealed. There is a prostitute sometimes acting as a servant, sometimes making the impression of a lady of high birth. There is an elderly actor playing the role of the young nobleman's uncle. And, finally, there is a desperate drunkard and occasional actor, acting as a both braggadocio and miles gloriosus, a figure almost Falstaffian. Their roles have been prescribed by the melancholic nobleman, yet the reader can only speculate as to why and to what purpose. After their arrival to a country pub and several uncanny scenes from the night in the pub, we are told that the deaf servant was found hanged in the wood with a cluster of violets sticking from his mouth. The young nobleman disappears and his companions each follow their pursuits, apparently ignorant of the real reason of their journey. Most of the rest of the book consists of a series of interviews conducted by a lawyer commissioned by the young gentleman's father. The interviews are recorded in the form of dialogues where events are recounted several times and from different points of view. The text, freely mixing elements of the historical novel, detective story and science fiction, grants the reader no definite approach to it. The reader's position is similar to the lawyer's task - to find out what happened and give „an account" of the events. But „giving an account" means to transform the events to a generally comprehensible, rational and univocal language, which is far from being easy. The accounts of individual characters of what „really" happened indicate the elusiveness and indefinite character of the "real" story. The final part of the book is from this perspective a clash of two disparate discourses: one with a compulsion to investigate, clarify, classify and identify and the other that remains true to direct experience and facts as they have been perceived, without trying to transform them to something different. However, John Fowles is well aware of the fact that every view and account of reality is already an interpretation of it. At the end of the book the reader finds out that the text has come a full circle - as opposed to a detective story, there is no solution, but another mystery. If John Fowles had written nothing but this book, he would never became a famous author. The „historical" language is not always convincing, author's „socialism" is now and then a nuisance and the documentary intermezza (about 17th century women's underwear, for instance) are not as functional as they are in French Lieutenant's Woman. But as the whole of Fowles' work is concerned, A Maggot undoubtedly forms its integral and interesting part.