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• Authors : Hawthorne, Nathaniel : SFE : Science Fiction Encyclopedia
• The Atlantic Crossword
• Hawthorne, Nathaniel (1804 - 1864)

I think not. The book does not move us to tears; it awakens no sense of shuddering awe such as follows the perusal of the great tragedies of literature; it is not emotional, in the ordinary acceptance of the word, yet shallow or cold it certainly is not. I cannot but wonder at his coolness in respect to his own pathos, and compare it with my emotions when I read the last scene of The Scarlet Letter to my wife, just after writing it, -- tried to read it, rather, for my voice swelled and heaved, as if I were tossed up and down on an ocean as it subsides after a storm.

What curious trait in his writing, what strange attitude of the man toward the moral struggles and agony of human nature, is this that sets him apart from other novelists? I purpose to show how this is due to one dominant motive running through all his tales, -- a thought to a certain extent peculiar to himself, and so persistent in its repetition that, to one who reads Hawthorne carefully, his works seem to fall together like the movements of a great symphony built upon one imposing theme.

I remember, some time ago, when walking among the Alps, that I happened on a Sunday morning to stray into the little English church at Interlaken. The room was pretty well filled with a chance audience, most of whom, no doubt, were, like myself, refugees from civilization for the sake of pleasure or rest or health. The minister was a young sandy-haired Scotsman, with nothing notable in his aspect save a certain unusual look of earnestness about the eyes; and I wonder how many of my fellow listeners still remember that quiet Sabbath morn, and the sunlight streaming over all, as white and pure as if poured down from the snowy peak of the Jungfrau, and how many of them still at times see that plain little church, and the simple man standing in the pulpit, and hear the tones of his vibrating voice?

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Opening the Bible, he paused a moment; then read, in accents that faltered a little, as if with emotion, the words, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? I do not know what induced him to choose such a text, and to preach such a sermon before an audience of summer idlers; it even seemed to me that a look of surprise and perturbation stole over their faces as, in tones tremulous from the start, with restrained passion, he poured forth his singular discourse. I cannot repeat his words.

He told of the inevitable loneliness that follows man from the cradle to the grave; he spoke of the loneliness that lends the depth of yearning to a mother's eyes as she bends over her newborn child, for the soul of the infant has been rent from her own, and she can never again be united to what she cherished. It is this sense of individual loneliness and isolation, he said, that gives pathos to lovers' eyes when love has brought them closest together; it is this that lends austerity to the patriot's look when saluted by the acclaiming multitude.

And you, he cried, who for a little while have come forth from the world into these solitudes of God, what hope ye to find?

Authors : Hawthorne, Nathaniel : SFE : Science Fiction Encyclopedia

Some respite, no doubt, from the anxiety that oppressed you in the busy town, in the midst of your loved ones about the hearth, in the crowded market place; for you believe that these solitudes of nature will speak to your hearts and comfort you, and that in the peace of nature you will find the true communion of soul that the busy world could not give you. Yet are you deceived; for the sympathy and power of communion between you and this fair creation have been ruined and utterly cast away by sin, and this was typified in the beginning by the banishing of Adam from the terrestrial paradise.

No, the murmur of these pleasant brooks and the whispering of these happy leaves shall not speak to the deafened ear of your soul, nor shall the verdure of these sunny fields and the glory of these snowy peaks appeal to the darkened eye of your soul: and this you shall learn to your utter sorrow. Go back to your homes, to your toil, to the populous deserts where your duty lies. Go back and bear bravely the solitude that God hath given you to bear; for this, I declare unto you, is the burden and the penalty laid upon us by the eternal decrees for the sin we have done, and for the sin of our fathers before us.

Think not, while evil abides in you, ye shall be aught but alone; for evil is the seeking of self and the turning away from the commonalty of the world. Your life shall indeed be solitary until death, the great solitude, absorbs it at last. Go back and learn righteousness and meekness; and it may be, when the end cometh, you shall attain unto communion with him who alone can speak to the recluse that dwells within your breast.

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And lie shall comfort you for the evil of this solitude you bear; for he himself hath borne it, and his last cry was the cry of desolation, of one forsaken and made lonely by his God. I hope I may be pardoned for introducing memories of so personal a nature into an article of literary criticism, but there seemed no better way of indicating the predominant trait of Hawthorne's work. Other poets of the past have excelled him in giving expression to certain problems of our inner life, and in stirring the depths of our emotional nature; but not in the tragedies of Greece, or the epics of Italy, or the drama of Shakespeare will you find any presentation of this one truth of the penalty of solitude laid upon the human soul so fully and profoundly worked out as in the romances of Hawthorne.

It would be tedious to takeup each of his novels and tales and show how this theme runs like a sombre thread through them all, yet it may be worth while to touch on a few prominent examples. Shortly after leaving college, Hawthorne published a novel which his maturer taste, with propriety, condemned.

Despite the felicity of style which seems to have come to Hawthorne by natural right, Fanshawe is but a crude and conventional story. Yet the book is interesting if only to show how at the very outset the author struck the keynote of his life's work. The hero of the tale is the conventional student of romance, wasted by study, and isolated from mankind by his intellectual ideals. There is, too, something memorable in the parting scene between the hero and heroine, where Fanshawe, having earned Ellen's love, deliberately surrenders her to one more closely associated with the world, and himself returns to his studies and his death.

From this youthful essay let us turn at once to his latest work, -- the novel begun when the shadow of coming dissolution had already fallen upon him, though still not old in years; to that "tale of the deathless man " interrupted by the intrusion of Death, as if in mockery of the artist's theme. The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower Unfinished must remain! No extract or comment can convey the effect of these chapters of minute analysis, with their portrait of the old apothecary dwelling in the time-eaten mansion, whose windows look down on the graves of children and grandchildren he had outlived and laid to rest.

With his usual sense of artistic contrast, Hawthorne sets a picture of golden-haired youth by the side of withered eld: "The Doctor's only child, poor Bessie's offspring, had died the better part of a hundred years before, and his grandchildren, a numerous and dimly remembered brood, had vanished along his weary track in their youth, maturity, or incipient age, till, hardly knowing how it had all happened, he found himself tottering onward with an infant's small fingers in his nerveless grasp.

It is the picture of a bewildered man walking the populous streets, and feeling utterly lost and estranged in the crowd: so the old doctor "felt a dreary impulse to elude the people's observation, as if with a sense that he had gone irrevocably out of fashion; Between Fanshawe , with its story of the seclusion caused by youthful ambition, and The Dolliver Romance , with its picture of isolated old age, there may be found in the author's successive works every form of solitude incident to human existence.

I believe no single tale, however short or insignificant, can be named in which, under one guise or another, this recurrent idea does not appear.

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It is as if the poet's heart were burdened with an emotion that unconsciously dominated every faculty of his mind; he walked through life like a man possessed. Often, while reading his novels, I have of a sudden found myself back in the little chapel at Interlaken, listening to that strange discourse on the penalty of sin; and the cry of the text once more goes surging through my ears, "Why hast thou forsaken me? Perhaps the first work to awaken any considerable interest in Hawthorne was the story -- not one of his best -- of "The Gentle Boy". The pathos of the poor child severed by religious fanaticism from the fellowship of the world stirred a sympathetic chord in the New England heart, and it may even be that tears were shed over the homeless lad clinging te his father's grave; for his "father was of the people whom all men hate.

No one who has read them has ever forgotten the dying man's fateful words: "Why do you tremble at me alone? Tremble also at each other! Have men avoided me, and women shown no pity, and children screamed and fled, only for my black veil? What, but the mystery which it obscurely typifies, has made this piece of crape so awful?

When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend, the lover to his best beloved; when man does not vainly shrink from the eye of his Creator, loathsomely treasuring up the secret of his sin; then deem me a monster, for the symbol beneath which I have lived, and die I look around me, and, lo! The Lady Eleanore has come to these shores in the early colonial days, bringing with her a heart filled with aristocratic pride She has, moreover, all the arrogance of queenly beauty, and her first entrance into the governor's mansion is over the prostrate body of a despised lover.

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Her insolence is symbolized throughout by a mantle which she wears, of strange and fascinating splendor, embroidered for her by the fingers of a dying woman,—a woman dying, it proves, of the smallpox, so that the infested robe becomes the cause of a pestilence that sweeps the province. It happens now and then that Hawthorne falls into a revolting realism, and the last scene, where Lady Eleanore, perishing of the disease that has flowed from her own arrogance, is confronted by her old lover, produces a feeling in the reader almost of loathing; yet the lady's last words are significant enough to be quoted: "The curse of Heaven hath stricken me, because I would not call man my brother, nor woman sister.

Hawthorne, Nathaniel (1804 - 1864)

I wrapped myself in pride as in a mantle, and scorned the sympathies of nature; and therefore has nature made this wretched body the medium of a dreadful sympathy. She but suffered for electing freely a loneliness which, in one form or another, whether voluntary or involuntary, haunts all the chief persons of her creator's world.

It is, indeed, characteristic of this solitude of spirit that it presents itself now as the original sin awakening Heaven's wrath, and again as itself the penalty imposed upon the guilty soul: which is but Hawthorne's way of portraying evil and its retribution as simultaneous, -- nay, as one and the same thing. But we linger too long on these minor works of our author. Much has been written about The Scarlet Letter , and it has been often studied as an essay in the effects of crime on the human heart.

Other poets have laid bare the workings of a diseased conscience, the perturbations of a soul that has gone astray; others have shown the confusion and horror wrought by crime in the family or the state, and something of these, too, may be found in the effects of Dimmesdale's sin in the provincial community; but the true moral of the tale lies in another direction. Itis a story of intertangled love and hatred working out in four human beings the same primal curse, -- love and hatred so woven together that in the end the author asks whether the two passions be not, after all, the same, since each renders one individual dependent upon another for his spiritual food, and each is in a way an attempt to break through the boundary that separates soul from soul.

From the opening scene at the prison door, which, "like all that pertains to crime, seemed never to have known a youthful era," to the final scene on the scaffold, where the tragic imagination of the author speaks with a power barely surpassed in the books of the world, the whole plot of the romance moves about this one conception of our human isolation as the penalty of transgression.

Upon Arthur Dimmesdale the punishment falls most painfully. From the cold and lonely heights of his spiritual life he has stepped down, in a vain endeavor against God's law, to seek the warmth of companionship in illicit love. He sins, and the very purity and fineness of his nature make the act of confession before the world almost an impossibility.

The result is a strange contradiction of effects that only Hawthorne could have reconciled.

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By his sin Dimmesdale is more than ever cut off from communion with the world, and is driven to an asceticism and aloofness so complete that it becomes impossible for him to look any man in the eye; on the other hand, the brooding secret of his passion gives him new and powerful sympathies with life's burden of sorrow, and fills his sermons with a wonderful eloquence to stir the hearts of men. This, too, is the paradox running like a double thread through all the author's works. Liz marked it as to-read Jan 29, Michael marked it as to-read Feb 23, Maxfield Allison marked it as to-read Nov 11, Steven marked it as to-read Dec 03, Patrick Smith marked it as to-read May 27, DZMM added it Oct 14, Simon marked it as to-read Jan 12, Michael marked it as to-read Mar 30, MrAniki marked it as to-read Aug 16, Simon marked it as to-read Feb 19, Drix Tabligan marked it as to-read Feb 22, There are no discussion topics on this book yet.

About Nathaniel Hawthorne. Nathaniel Hawthorne. Nathaniel Hawthorne was a 19th century American novelist and short story writer. He is seen as a key figure in the development of American literature for his tales of the nation's colonial history. Shortly after graduating from Bowdoin College, Hathorne changed his name to Hawthorne. Hawthorne anonymously published his first work, a novel titled Fanshawe , in In , he published Twice-Told Nathaniel Hawthorne was a 19th century American novelist and short story writer.

He worked at a Custom House and joined a Transcendentalist Utopian community, before marrying Peabody in The Scarlet Letter was published in , followed by a succession of other novels. A political appointment took Hawthorne and family to Europe before returning to The Wayside in Hawthorne died on May 19, , leaving behind his wife and their three children.

Many persons went thither in just the same frame of mind. From a distance, the life that was led there has a very pretty and idyllic look. There was teaching, and there was intellectual talk; there was hard domestic and farming work in pleasant companionship, and a general effort to be disinterested. The young women sang as they washed the dishes, and the more prepossessing and eligible of the yeomen sometimes volunteered to help them with their unpoetic and saponaceous task. The costume of the men included a blouse of checked or plaided stuff, belted at the waist, and a rough straw hat; and the women also wore hats, in defiance of the fashion then ruling, and chose calico for their gowns.