Circular Saws

In Short

This collection of short, interconnected fables functions as a satirical ledger of human nature. Through imaginative scenarios—such as kings in bathtubs, anthropomorphic household objects, and philosophical debates in the afterlife—the author interrogates concepts like war, business, love, and death. It is a work of biting wit and brevity, designed to unsettle the reader's complacency. The book has endured because its critique of human institutions—law, bureaucracy, and the vanity of the ruling class—remains as relevant and stinging today as it was in the early twentieth century.

The Story

The narrative arc is less a linear progression and more a cumulative dismantling of civilized facades. It opens with Haroun-al-Raschid being denied his right to splash in a bath, setting a tone of absurd restriction that permeates the entire work. From there, the book traverses the globe and beyond, moving from the naive belief in fairies held by a ruthless businessman, Arthur Nobbs, to the grim reality of a troll in Sweden who studies psychoanalysis.

As the chapters unfold, the stories grow increasingly metaphysical. We encounter a cat with the soul of a musician, only to find her murdered and turned into fiddle strings; we witness the "King of America" seeking a wife who knows nothing, only to be disappointed by her silence. The author engages in a running dialogue with a dismissive publisher, a framing device that emphasizes the tension between the artist’s vision and the industry’s demand for conventional, profitable stories.

The middle section shifts to the political and the international. We see statesmen meeting in hell to discuss forming a new government, their inner thoughts laid bare like exposed machinery. There is a biting sequence involving a "Wandering Jew" who carries a parcel of immense weight, seeking someone worthy to take it from him, only to be excluded by a committee of international "lawmongers."

The final movements of the book are increasingly somber. We observe the conflict between "Yes" and "No," a philosophical wrestling match where both sides are revealed to be shadows of a larger, unreachable unity. The book concludes with the realization that the conquest of death is a hollow victory, as it was only the arrival of love—and the subsequent separation of the world into dualities—that created death in the first place. Throughout, characters are consistently stripped of their defenses: a man looking into a mirror meant to show him God sees only his own face; a monkey theorist is branded a blasphemer for suggesting that men might be evolved from apes. The ending offers no tidy moral resolution, but rather a quiet, haunting admission that the struggle between opposites is eternal and that true peace is a phantom.

How It Unfolds

The authority of the absurd The collection begins by placing historical and legendary figures in mundane, suffocating situations, illustrating how life’s pleasures are often curtailed by rigid, unnecessary rules.

The critique of commerce The narrative turns toward the exploitation of beauty and art by those who see only profit, featuring characters who ruin others while maintaining a veneer of respectability.

The death of the ideal Midway through, the tone darkens as the stories move into the realm of the afterlife and the bureaucracy of heaven, where human failures and vanity follow the soul across the threshold.

The international theater The author lampoons modern politics and the hypocrisy of "peace" conferences, showing how committees and laws are used to exclude the inconvenient and mask the truth.

The metaphysical impasse The final chapters abandon satire for existential reflection, debating the nature of victory and the futility of trying to resolve the fundamental contradictions of existence.

The People

• Haroun-al-Raschid: A ruler who serves as the archetype of the frustrated potentate, learning that even a King must contend with the mundane dampening of his joy.
• Arthur Nobbs: A businessman who justifies his destruction of others by citing "fairies," representing the hypocrisy of those who cloak greed in the language of wonder.
• Princess Gurli: A character defined by her own beauty, she trades her soul for the sake of her vanity, illustrating the cost of losing one’s inner substance.
• The Wandering Jew: An elderly, white-bearded figure carrying an impossibly heavy parcel, he acts as a symbol of the burden of truth, perpetually seeking a successor among the unworthy.
• Yes and No: The two final, warring personifications. Their dialogue reveals that their fight is an internal one, a struggle for acceptance that can never truly end because they are locked in a codependent, circular embrace.

In Its Own Voice

"The higher, the fewer the pleasures of life."

The Vizier offers this grim observation to Haroun-al-Raschid, explaining why the King is not permitted to splash in his own bath.

"Truth is neither proud nor humble; it is."

Ormuzd speaks these words during a tense philosophical debate with Ahriman, distinguishing the nature of existence from the vanity of human ambition.

"Alas, before love came there was no death to conquer."

This final, whispered realization identifies the tragic irony of human connection, suggesting that the very thing we prize most is the catalyst for our mortality.

What It's Really About

The book is a sustained meditation on the failure of human systems to accommodate human reality. It argues that institutions—be they government, religion, or commerce—are "circular saws" that grind down the individual. The central tension lies in the struggle between the desire for order and the inherent, messy truth of the soul. The author asks whether the "new world" we build through conquest and law is anything more than a mask for our own fear of irrelevance. Ultimately, the work suggests that we are all, like the characters in these fables, trapped in a cycle of self-deception, unable to accept that the contradictions we fight to "win" are the very things that define our existence.

Why Read It Today

This book is for the reader who values economy of language and possesses a tolerance for—or perhaps a craving for—a sharp, existential sting. It is a work that feels like a conversation with an incredibly intelligent, slightly exhausted, and profoundly witty skeptic. It does not coddle the reader; it assumes you are sharp enough to catch its allusions and cynical enough to appreciate its biting subversion of grand narratives.

There is a distinct period flavor here, characterized by the author’s early 20th-century sensibilities and his occasional use of now-obsolete political and cultural references. Some readers may find the lack of traditional character development frustrating, as these stories serve as vehicles for ideas rather than emotional journeys. However, the prose is remarkably precise, and the shift from playful, lighthearted absurdity to deep, resonant philosophy is handled with a seamless grace that is rare in modern writing. You will not come away with a warm, fuzzy feeling, but you will find yourself thinking about the "circular saws" in your own life—the structures you serve and the truths you avoid—long after the final page is turned. It is a brief, intense experience that lingers in the mind like a cold wind.