Thank you to NetGalley for providing me an ARC of this book for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

As someone deeply interested in Christian religious history and trope use throughout history, this book was incredible! It was such a wonderful deep dive into the various historical and literary uses of the Faustian bargain and the many iterations it has gone through. The author clearly did a lot of meticulous research to prepare this book, and it shows.

It also provides some wonderful philosophical quandaries about our connection with and participation in Faustian bargains as they relate to capitalism and ethical consumption. I'll be thinking on the points it brought up for a while.

In addition to the content, the writing style was beautiful. I have added several of the author's other books to my TBR because I enjoyed both his content and style so much!

Publication date: 9 July 2024

My experience with Ed Simon's Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain was uneven. For a while, I'd be highlighting passages, putting exclamation points next to interesting new ideas. Then, I'd find myself jotting notes like "Do I believe this?" or "And he's trying to say...?" I absolutely loved the moments when the book had me thinking and making connections I hadn't made before: for example, that one reading the Dead Sea Scrolls can bring one to the conclusion that mainstream Christianity (the historical narrative that one out) is, in fact, a Faustian bargain of sorts.

As a "collector" of Fausts—opera and play performances, books, museum art—I found that Devil's Contract was well worth the read despite its unevenness. I gave myself permission to speed up or slow down, depending on my own level of engagement and found my overall reading experience rewarding.

I received a free electronic review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own.

Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain by Ed Simon is a cultural extravaganza, covering theatrical works, music, art, and literature with a dash of history, science, and technology. It would make an interesting multimedia presentation if the book were packaged with Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill Sonata” and Robert Johnson’s “Cross Road Blues,” scenes from Marlowe and Goethe plays, and art by Goya and Delacroix. After all, not all these works are familiar to the average reader.

Some early stories from the Bible and Apocrypha don’t fulfill the devil’s contract. For instance, Jesus wandered 40 days in the wilderness and rejected the devil’s tests. Simon Magus—a sorcerer who bewitched the people of Samaria—listened to Philip the Evangelist preach, believed, and was baptized. But when Simon saw the apostles laying on of hands, he wanted to buy that power, but was denied. Author Ed Simon uses these stories to set up the next stage.

During the Inquisitions and subsequent witch trials, interrogators steeped in demonology coerced victims under torture to claim relationships with the devil. That contract needed a name. So, in the late 16th century, German alchemist and sorcerer Johann Faust went from folk legend to the archetype of one who sold his soul to the devil. His supposed deed influenced writers, artists, musicians, and more. In fact, Simon even gets into a groove where his phraseology changes, skipping over verbs, waxing lyrical.

And then he comes crashing down. By chapter 10, Simon inserts his 21st century ideals onto 17th century life in the New World when writing about the 1692 Salem witch trials. He also, like many high school English teachers, gets caught up in Arthur Miller’s 1953 play, The Crucible, which rewrites actual history into a story of an affair that never happened.

Simon then trounces the Puritans and their Calvinist religion hard, with their theft of native lands, slavery, misogyny, and belief in predestination. Here, he believes that the Faustian bargain is written in the town charters, not between, say, the devil and an accused witch.

Curiously, though, by the third generation—around the time of the witch trials—many Massachusetts Bay people were moving away from Calvinism, forcing religious leaders to compromise with the Halfway Covenant and other religious principles. Plus, the dying off of the older generations—like Judge William Stoughton—also made way for more liberal ideas and beliefs, leading to another revolt of “no taxation without representation.”

But Simon doesn’t acknowledge that progress and holds Salem—not Boston, New York City, or Los Angeles—accountable for turning the United States into a Faustian Republic. Then he closes his diatribe with another religious metaphor, the Apocalypse.

Devil’s Contract begins with a journey through the Arts, then takes a wild hairpin turn. Halfway through, it’s as if Simon had a dark epiphany that changed the direction of his writing. It’s unsettling. And maybe that’s the point.

What is the difference between magic and religion, between God and the devil?

Devil's Contract is a fascinating and thought-provoking exploration of the Faustian bargain, from biblical times to the present day. Ed Simon expertly weaves broad and seemingly disparate threads across history – including witch trials, art, music, theatre, literature, cinema, the atomic bomb, and the dawning age of AI – with the central idea to compelling effect. Well-researched and presented, every chapter contains the kind of captivating ideas and topics that will send me down internet rabbit holes to learn more about.

My thanks to both NetGalley and the publisher Melville House Publishing for an advance copy of this new book that looks at the idea of making a deal that promises much, but asks for so much more, in media, religion, and even in our history, and what this tells us about ourselves.

One doesn't have to look to far in America to see people who have made Faustian bargains, sold their soul for well not rock n roll, but fame, money, and power. Turn on the news and see these people who promote the last president of this nation, the one who is on trial in quite a few states. These supporters all have the look of people who have given up, their eyes dead, knowing they made a mistake, but that little taste of power was just too much. Even in our everyday life we make deals with corporate devils. Here is the latest well super special phone. It can do amazing things, and will make your life better. Oh but it is made by exploiting children in Asia, and causing untold environmental destruction in Africa. Now, go do a little dance on TikTok. One might not lose their immortal soul, but maybe a little humanity. Or a bit of the world is gone for the next generation. So one can watch videos at full volume on an airplane. Ed Simon in his book Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain looks at the Faustian bargain, in media, religion, and unfortunately in the real world, an arrangement that so many seem to enter into, with arms wide open and consequences be darned.

The book is written as a series of essays looking at different bargains made by different people, from musicians, magicians, children of gods, and simple people trying to get a better deal. Simon begins with an explanation about how the idea of a deal to better one's life for the short term, with either an eternity of hellfire, or public scorn and becoming a joke throughout history is so important to both art and for understanding the motivations of real people. Simon starts with Christopher Marlowe's play Doctor Faustus, not the first place this idea started, but one of the more popular, and wonders what cost Marlowe payed, dying in a pub either over and unpaid bill, or because of his supposed intelligence work. A name known, but not as known as fellow playwright William Shakespeare. Simon looks at the story of Simon Magnus, and even at the book and film version of The Last Temptation of Christ, to show that even the son of God can be tempted by a good deal, even in the short run. The legend of Robert Johnson at the Crossroads, is told as well as discussions on modern media, like Robert Egger's The Witch. Simon also looks at the real world, such as the Manhattan Project, a plan that could have ended war for all time, by ending everything.

Ed Simon is a fascinating writer, with knowledge about media that mixes well with his knowledge of the esoteric. Simon is also a very good writer, and though the essays range through time and space, real to imagined, Simon keeps everything together, with both writing skill and the ability to keep making everything so darned interesting. From theaters, to buildings lost, to the Bible, to the Deep South, and the deserts of New Mexico, Simon keeps everything together, and make one think much about the life we life, and what we compromise on. In the end almost everything looks Faustian, good education, good job, big money, miss your family, get fired, lose everything, death. Maybe it is not the soul we trade, but the time that we lose is the biggest lose in these bargains we take part in.

Recommended for literary readers, philosophical thinkers, and people who like collections that make one think. I've read a few things by Ed Simon over the years, and this is the one that made me think the most, and wonder about life. I can't wait to read what Simon publishes next.

The book describes itself as being about the Faustian bargain, but it is broader than that, dealing with any deal with the Devil, real or metaphoric.

It starts with the religious basis of such deals, as is found in the Abrahamic texts and their apocrypha, then describes the quasi-historical story of Faust, including detailed sketches on his major literary interpreters: Marlowe, Goethe, and Mann. Discussing the tradition of soul-selling artists, the book then considers more metaphorical Faustian deals in our modern world, going so far as to suggest that we are exiting the Anthropocene for the Faustocene, a period of history not about our control over the world but about our unease with that control and what payment it might extract.

There is a section late in the book where the author makes a rejoinder to Adorno’s statement that no poetry can exist after Auschwitz to suggest that poetry is all there is after the first successful nuclear weapons test. And that feels true to form as regards this book, which at points feels more like poetry, an extended riff on the idea of what it means for evil to have a personage, or even an anthology of essays.

I did particularly like the sections on the underlying history of how we get to Faust. The idea of the Faustocene is fun. There were a few sections like that on the ways that these ideas intersect with the Gnostic traditions or likewise with the traditions around the Blues, that felt to short. And there were points where it felt like too much triangulation around a topic, or textual meanders, showing up since the concept itself is so broad.

I was unaware that the author was a religion writer. It feels embarrassingly self-obvious not to think about how a book about the Devil would involve religious thought. I think that this serves the text, but I do think that a reader should be aware of it in the sense that I feel like some of the sections are much more rewarding with a working knowledge of Christianity, and it might change how you appreciate the book.

It is an inconsistent book, not in quality but in topicality, moving in a sort of stream of consciousness through various representations of the Devil and their works. Its expansive reach means that I feel that the reader will matter here more than usual, because of how many different things that the book is. That makes it hard to recommend, or at least go into it thinking that you will love parts and be left out by others, and that it is less historical or lit crit than conceptual and experiential.

It may be the first time that I wished a book was a video essay, in that serialization and visual editing would provide more architecture to the text, and the rambling nature fit spoken language more.

My thanks to the author, Ed Simon, for writing the book, and to the publisher, Melville House, for making the ARC available to me.

This book is a fascinating and erudite study of the history of the faustian bargain in which an individual sells his soul to the devil in exchange for power and knowledge. Although associated typically with Christopher Marlowe play.Docor Faustus, elements of the story can be traced to stories of Christ and Simon Magus in the Bible. Traces the portrayal of the story in art, literature. music, film and politics. Index. Notes. Illustrations.

This title combines the best features of both the creative non-fiction and microhistory genres.

The Devil’s Contract is a comprehensive and entertaining a non-fiction book on this subject as one could like. In exploring the roots, advent, and legacy of the Faust legend, author Ed Simon connects threads as disparate as Gnosticism, medieval illuminated manuscripts, an assassinated Romanian intellectual, and finally the Manhattan project. Throughout the author showcases his wit and verve, adding linguistic and artistic flourishes that keep the pace lively and engaging. Like a skilled actor, the author draws you in and then takes you on a sprawling journey, compelling you all the while with the merit of his story and the artfulness of his delivery.

While I personally felt that a few of the later chapters strayed somewhat from the initial scope of the book, I can easily forgive authorial wanderings as interesting and delightful to read as these. This title should be required reading for anyone interested in the growth and evolution of the Faust legend; it demonstrates impeccably why this myth is so enduring and so central to much of later western culture.

Ed Simon's "Devil's Contract" details the history of a question underlying a bargain as old as time - Would you sell your soul to the devil? For what? And would you figure out how to reneg on it at the last moment? From Christ to Roko's Basilisk, Simon looks at where we've been and what contemporary satanic pacts may look like today. From the bible to music to the little boxes for terms and services, everything might have Mephistopheles's fingerprints on it.

My thanks to NetGalley for the advanced copy.