The Man: A Story of To-day

In Short

This curious 1891 novel blends personal memoir, social satire, and mystical philosophy to tell the story of Aspasia Hobbs, a young woman struggling against the rigid conventions of late-Victorian Buffalo. After her father’s financial ruin, Aspasia encounters "The Man," a recluse who teaches her to cultivate a superior "spiritual atmosphere" to master her own destiny. While it functions as a critique of superficial society, the book is most famous for its unconventional theory that Shakespeare’s genius was actually the collaborative result of a deep, secret romantic partnership.

The Story

The narrative begins as an intimate, epistolary confession from Aspasia Hobbs to her friend Martha Heath. Aspasia recounts her suffocating life in Buffalo, where she is pressured to marry the grotesque, mustache-twirling attorney Pygmalion Woodbur. Her father, a man of limited foresight, loses the family fortune, leading to a public auction of their home and status. Cast out of her social circle, Aspasia takes her mother and their fiercely loyal housekeeper, Mrs. Grimes, to a modest cottage on South Division Street.

Seeking escape from her mounting anxieties, Aspasia takes to riding her bicycle through the countryside. During a violent storm, she loses her way and finds shelter in a remote log cabin. There, she meets "The Man," a figure who claims to be over three hundred years old. He offers to mentor her, insisting that the city’s "lower thought-currents" are killing her spirit. He explains that humanity suffers due to ignorance of natural law; if one maintains a pure, high-minded "spiritual atmosphere," one can avoid the decay of age and the suffering of ordinary life.

The Man tasking Aspasia with transcribing his wisdom for the world, believing that her stenographic skills and receptivity make her the perfect vessel. As they meet in the woods, he reveals a radical theory regarding the authorship of Shakespeare’s plays. He claims they were not the work of a single man, but the collaborative output of William Shakespeare and a woman named Harriette Bowenni—a union of masculine language and feminine insight fueled by "undying Love."

The idyll is shattered when local ruffians, stirred by the vengeful Woodbur, descend upon the woods to "rescue" Aspasia from the "desperate" recluse. The Man is arrested, and the local press frames the event as a salacious scandal involving a fallen woman and a mad hermit. Despite the public shaming and the efforts of her friend Martha to secure her release, the narrative concludes with the implication that the world is too blinded by prejudice and "lower thoughts" to recognize the truth. Aspasia, however, has been transformed by her mentor’s teachings. She recognizes that she is no longer the captive of her former circumstances, having touched a truth that provides its own kind of freedom, even if society remains committed to the destruction of those who dare to step outside its bounds.

How It Unfolds

The unwanted suitor Aspasia details her harrowing rejection of the odious Mr. Woodbur, whose clumsy romantic advances leave her feeling physically repulsed and socially trapped. This rejection exposes the fragility of her family’s standing and foreshadows her later conflict with the vindictive attorney.

The loss of all things The family’s bankruptcy is rendered through the lens of a chaotic auction, where callous appraisers pick apart their home. This sequence grounds the narrative in the harsh reality of economic instability and the cruelty of the "society" that Aspasia once occupied.

The meeting in the woods Lost in a storm, Aspasia finds the log cabin and the mysterious mentor who offers her a new philosophy of life. This encounter marks the transition from the domestic drama of Buffalo to the metaphysical quest that defines the remainder of the book.

The lessons of the master Over several Sundays, The Man explains his theories on spiritual magnetism, the renewal of the human body, and the true history of literature. These sessions serve as the intellectual core of the book, contrasting the calm of the grove with the distractions of the city.

The final confrontation The story culminates in a violent raid by local men who, fueled by gossip and malice, arrest The Man and Aspasia. The book concludes with the stinging sting of public defamation, leaving the reader to weigh the protagonist's newfound enlightenment against the relentless judgment of her peers.

The People

Aspasia Hobbs is the narrator, a sharp-witted young woman whose desire for something beyond the narrow confines of marriage and social status drives her journey. She begins as a "city-bred" victim of circumstance and evolves into an independent seeker of truth.

The Man acts as the enigmatic catalyst for Aspasia’s transformation. He is calm, wise, and profoundly detached from conventional morality. By claiming to have lived for centuries, he challenges Aspasia to view her own life through the lens of eternal spiritual laws rather than temporary material gains.

Pygmalion Woodbur is the antagonist, a man whose superficiality and ego make him the perfect symbol of the "lower thought-currents" the mentor warns against. His role is to represent the crushing weight of public opinion and the vengeful nature of those who fear what they cannot understand.

Mrs. Grimes, the aging housekeeper, provides a grounding, earthy contrast to the high-minded philosophy of the woods. Her loyalty to the Hobbs family and her willingness to sacrifice her own savings represent the "goodness" that exists in the world, distinct from the abstract spiritual ideals Aspasia chases.

In Its Own Voice

"Fair lady, have you ever been kissed with a rush, by a man with a large yellow moustache colored black? Well it’s just like being jabbed with a paint brush!"

Aspasia describes the absurdity of being courted by the repulsive Mr. Woodbur.

"Men never needed truth and teachers as much as now. I do not preach nor write, but I act through others, and during the past hundred years I have told to men many things which they have given to the world."

The Man explains his role as a hidden influence on history and literature during his first meeting with Aspasia.

"Oh man, proud man, clothed in a little brief authority, doth cut such fantastic tricks before high heaven as does make angels weep!"

The Man quotes Shakespeare to summarize the arrogance and ignorance of the critics who dismiss his work.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book is a manifesto on the power of the individual mind to overcome external circumstances. It argues that physical and social reality are merely symbols for deeper spiritual truths; by mastering one's thoughts, one can transcend the limits of age, poverty, and social rejection. The book also serves as a polemic against the "middle-class" obsession with status and the tendency of society to vilify those who deviate from the norm. It champions the idea that creativity is an act of spiritual union, suggesting that our greatest cultural achievements are rarely the work of isolated geniuses, but rather the result of profound, invisible partnerships that the public is often too small-minded to perceive.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the eccentricities of late-Victorian fiction will find this a fascinating, if occasionally jarring, artifact. The book feels like a conversation with an opinionated, intelligent, and slightly frustrated mind. It shifts abruptly from domestic comedy—such as the description of being kissed by a "paint brush" mustache—to dense, earnest philosophical lecturing.

The primary difficulty for a modern reader is the prose’s erratic tone; the narrative is frequently interrupted by the mentor's long monologues, which some may find didactic. Additionally, the period attitudes toward women’s sensitivity and the inclusion of contemporary advertisements—an oddity of the era’s publishing—give the book a fragmented, almost surreal quality. However, the core of the story remains compelling: the portrait of a woman trying to find her voice in a world that wants her to remain a silent, decorative object. It is a bold, odd little book that refuses to be categorized, and its defense of collaboration over individual ego is a strikingly modern sentiment. You will likely walk away from it unsettled by its intensity but charmed by its fierce, idiosyncratic belief that, with the right "atmosphere," anything—even the history of Shakespeare—can be rewritten.