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Xerox University Microfilms 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 75 - 26,560 CONLEY, Brian Patrick, 1947- A FORHAL AND STRUCTURAL STUDY OF HAWTHORNE'S TALES. The Ohio State University, Ph.D., 1975 Language and Literature, modem

Xerox University Microfilmst Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 A POTMAL AND STRUCDJRAL STUDY OF HAWIHOKNE'S TALES

DISSERTATION

.Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of The Ohio State University

' - By Brian Patrick Conley, A*B., M.A.

* * * *

The Ohio State University 1975

Reading Ocmnittee: Approved By Dr. Daniel R. Barnes Dr. Patrick B. Mullen Dr. Thcmas M. Woodson

Adviser Department of English VITA

October 2, 1947 ...... p o m - St. Louis, Missouri 1970 ...... A.B., St. Louis University St. Louis, Missouri 1970-1973 ...... N.D.E.A. Fellow The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

1971 ...... M.A., The Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio

FIELDS OF STUDY

Major Field: Nineteenth Century American Fiction Nathaniel Hawthorne: Associate Professor Daniel Barnes American Folklore: Associate Professor Patrick Millen

ii TABIE OF CONTENTS

Page

VITA ...... ii CHAPTER I. STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM...... 1 II. IHE CORPUS OF THE TALES: FORM AND STRUCTURE 22 III. LACK LIQUIDATED: THE HERO AND DONOR IN CONCERT ... 62

Section One Section Two Section Three

Section Pour IV. LACK LIQUIDATED: THE SELF-SUFFICIENT H E R O 292

V. LACK NOT LIQUIDATED: THE REJECTED OR INSUFFICIENT H E R O ...... 322

VI. LACK NOT LIQUIDATED: THE ABSENCE OF A DO N O R 365

VII. CONCLUSION...... 395 APPENDIX...... 405 BIBLIOGRAPHY...... 410 CHAPTER 1 Statement of the Problem One may reasonably balk at the prospect of yet one more Hawthorne dissertation. In the last twenty years, Hawthorne ' • criticisn has experienced a population explosion that has prompted at least one prominent critic to advocate a form of critical 1 planned parenthood. Among ‘the offspring of this critical fecundity, there are many studies of folklore and myth in Hawthorne's works. In The American Novel and Its Tradition, Richard Chase refers to 2 Pearl as the eternal folk imagination. Richard Harter Fogle describes Robin of "My Kinsnan, Major Molineux" as a Yankee Theseus 3 or Hercules. Ray B. Browne states that Hawthorne catches the 4 quintessence of the folktale while, more specifically, Bernard Cohen

1 Roy R. Male in a rev. of Nathaniel Hawthorne; Identity and Knowledge, by Jac Thorpe, AL, 40 (1968), 239-40.

2 (Nfew York: Doubleday, 1957), pp. 75, 78-79.

3 Hawthorne's Fiction: The Light and the Dark, rev. ed. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1964), p. 109. 4 "The Oft-Told Twice-Told Tales: Their Folklore Motifs," SFQ, 22 (1958), 74.

- 1- 5 studies Hawthorne's debt to folk and popular legend. James J. Lynch 6 examines the folk idea of the devil in Hawthorne's tales and Grace 7 P. Wellborn investigates the use of plantlore. Antedating all of these studies is Constance Etourke's seninal book American Humor: A 8 Study of the National Character. But the two major works of folk­ lore and myth criticism are Daniel G. Hoffman's Form and Fable in 9 American Fiction and Hugo McPherson's Hawthorne as Myth-Maker: A 10 Study in Imagination. Both of these critics stress the affinity of Hawthorne's romance genre with fairytale and myth. Hoffman writes: "Their (i.e. romance writers'] uses of these cultural survivals and primitive or subconscious patterns of experience dramatize their preoccupation with the instinctual and passional farces of life, with pre-oonscious and pre-Christian values, with subrational and 11 of ton antirational formulation of meaning." McPherson echoes

5 "Hawthorne and Legend," Hoosier Folklore, 7 (1948), 94-95. 6 "The Devil in the Writings of Irving, Hawthorne, and Poe," NYFQ, 8 (1952), 11-31.

7 "Plant Lore and The Scarlet Letter," SFQ, 27 (1963), 160-67.

8 (New York: Har court Brace, 1931). 9 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1969).

10 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1969).

11 Hoffman, p. 3. Hoffman: "Unquestionably he was much concerned as moralist and thinker with problems of sin and salvation, the past, democracy, women's rights, the role of the artist, and the methods of art: but underlying these rational concerns is a deep current of drama and narrative allied to the patterns of fairytale, romance, and 12 13 myth," Even if one agrees with David J. Winslow and Neal Frank 14 Doubleday in their insistence on the primacy of written sources for Hawthorne's fiction, it seems difficult to refute Hoffman's and McPherson's assertion of the similarity between fairy-tale and

Hawthorne’s work. Just as prolific as folklore and myth studies, have been 15 investigations of the structure or form of Hawthorne's works.

12 McPherson, p.3. 13 "Hawthorne's Folklore and the Folklorists' Hawthorne: A Re-Examination," SFQ, 34 (1970), 50. 14 , Hawthorne's Early Tales: A Critical study (Durban, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1972), p.192. 15 Marius Bewley, Hie Eccentric Design (New York: Columbia University Press, 1959); Seymour Lee Gross, "The Technique of Hawthorne's Short Stories," Diss. Illinois 1954; Q. D. Leavis, "Hawthorne as Poet," Sewanee Review, 59 (1951) 179-205, 426-58; Carol Bronston Schoen, "The Pattern of Meaning: Theme and Structure in the Fiction of Nathaniel Hawthorne," Diss. Columbia 1968; Joel Porte, The Rananoe in America: Studies in Cooper, Poe, Hawthorne, Melville, and JamesTTMiddleton, Conn.: Wesleyan University Press, 1969); Hermit Vanderbilt, "Hie Unity of Hawthorne's 'Ethan Brand,'" CE, 24 (1963), 453-56; Hyatt H. Waggoner, Hawthorne: A Critical Study, rev. ed. (Cambridge, Mass,: Harvard University Press, 1963). -4-

Perhaps the most praninent of these studies is John Caldwell Stubbs' The Pursuit of Form: A Study of Hawthorne and the 16 Romance. Although Stubbs does not specifically ally the romance genre to myth and folktale, he does find it different from the pattern of the novel: "The romance, then, may be considered an approach to human experience, not a flight from it, yet an approach much more ordered, much more patterned, than the reader's chaotic 17 meeting with experience in his daily life, or even in the novel." Despite this interest in the form or structure— the two terms seem to be used rather loosely and interchangeably in criticism— and in the many studies of Hawthorne's affinity to folklore and myth, there has not been an attempt to systematically combine the structuralistic and the folkloristic approaches. This divorce between the two studies seems even more unusual when one considers the recent interest in studying folklore structures. In the United States, Alan Dundes has examined the morphology of American 18 Indian folktales, basing this structural typology on the work of 19 the linguist Kenneth Pike and on the formal analysis of folktale

16 (Urbana, Chicago, and London; University of Illinois Press, 1970).

17 Stubbs, p.6. 18 The Morphology of North American Indian Folktales, FF Oomnunicaticns, vol. 85, No. 195 (Helsinki: Suanalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1964). 19 "Beyond the Sentence,” College composition and Oonmunication, 15 (1964), 129-35. -5- 20 developed by the Russian Vladimir Propp. In literary criticism, 21 Daniel Barnes has analyzed Beowulf using Propp's morphology. Two 2T~ 23 folklorists, Kdngas and Maranda, have adapted the structural study 24 of the Errnch anthropologist and structuralist Claude LSvi-Strauss. Ldvi-Strauss and Reman Jakobson have collaborated in a structural 25 analysis of Baudelaire's Les Chats while mere recently in the United States Patricia Toibin has used Levi-Straussian structural isn 26 in an anlysis of Faulkner's Absalom! Absalom!' I propose to adapt these studies of folklore form and mythic structure in an anlysis of Hawthorne's tales [i.e. the prose

20 Morphology of the Folktale, trans. Laurence Scott and Louis A. Wagner, 2nd ed. "(Austin: University of Texas Press, 1968).

21 "Folktale Morphology and the Structure of Eoarwulf," Speculum, 45 (1970), 416-34. 22 "Structural Models in Folklore," Midwest Folklore, 12 (1962), 133-92.

23 For a Chicago school criticism of structural analysis, see: Butler Waugh, "Structural Analysis," Western Folklore, 25 (1966), 153-64. 24 Claude L^vi-Strauss, "The Structural Study of Myth," in Structural Analysis, trans. Claire Jakobson and Brooke Grundfest Schbepf (New York and London: Basic Books, 1963, 210-39.

25 _ "'Les Chats' de Charles Baudelaire," L'Hcnme, 2, No. 1 (January- April, 1962), 5-21. 26 "The Time of Myth and Hi so try in Absalan! Absalom!," AL, 45 (1973), 252-70. -6-

fiction exclusive of the longer ranances and the more descriptive sketches). Thus, my rationale for contributing to the critical expolsion of Hawthorne studies is to effect a union among the studies of folklore, myth, form, and structure. I will analyze the form of Hawthorne's tales using the methods of the Russian formalist

Vladimir Propp; I will analyze the structure of these tales by using the methods of the Pussian structuralist Claude Levi-Strauss. Earlier I parenthetically alluded to the rather loose use of the terms "form" and "structure" in criticism; I hope to be more exact in using these 27 terms. Like R. S. Crane, I will distinguish between "form" and "structure"; however, unlike Crane I will use the term "form" to refer to a syntagmatic ordering of a narrative (a Proppian study) while I will reserve the term "structure" for the paradigmatic ordering principles of each tale (a L^vi-Straussian analysis). By such a combined approach 1 hope to achieve what Homan Jakobson describes as metonymic (syntagmatic) and metaphoric (paradigmatic) 28 analysis of Hawthorne's tales. My method entails a survey of a substantial number of tales, fifty-eight, in order to determine the

27 The Languages of Criticism and the Structure of Poetry, The Alexander Lectures for 1952 (Toronto': University of Toronto Press, 1953), chapters, 1, 4.

28 Reman Jakobson, "TVo Aspects of Language and Two Types of Aphasic Disturbances," in Vford and Language (The Hague and Paris: Mouton, 1971),pp. 239-59. syntagmatic and paradigmatic gratmar of the texts. Such an analysis may establish a limited pattern or patterns in the corpus of the tales without suppressing the uniqueness of each tale. Hie interrelationship of unity and diversity will shape the balance of this study. Hie second chapter will discuss the unifying patterns of structure and form in the carpus of the tales while succeeding chapters will contain analyses of individual tales grouped into categories based upon syntagmatic classes. Although the tales will be grouped into such formal patterns, such a modus operand! in no way slights structural concerns for, as it will become apparent in the next chapter, it is invalid to enforce an artificial dichotomy between structure and form in Hawthorne's tales; the two are symbiotically related. Such an analysis may offer no conclusive evidence either to support or to refute Hoffman's and McPherson's hypothesis that Hawthorne's romance genre is allied to myth and fairytale until we know more about the forms and structures of folklore and myth; but such a study may at least suggest hew folklore and myth may help to elucidate literature. Hius, this study is a test of methodology as well as a descriptive analysis of Hawthorne's tales. Hie evidence for the relationship of Hawthorne's romance genre to fairytale and myth may very well be a function of how well a Proppian and l£vi-Straussian analysis describes these tales. In this study# as in any study of literature, there is a real danger that the assumptions of a critical approach may become petrified into unyielding dogma and extrapolated into all-inclusive generalities. Structuralian is an approach

particularly susceptible to fossilization. Although it pro­ fesses to be the most empirical of critical approaches, it seems to be better known for its theorizing on the nature of all literature than for its elucidating of specific texts. I intend ny study to be an empirical description of Hawthorne's tales: but, lest my intended empirical study becomes a thinly veiled manifesto on the nature of all literature, I will survey sane of the major assunptions of structuralism and then proceed to a more specific examination of Propp and Levi-Strauss.

A structuralist analysis differs radically from most Hawthorne criticisn since it seeks not to interpret but to describe the literary text. Roland Barthes, one of the most prominent apologists of structuralism, states that the aim of the structuralist is to outline the geometry of the work: "I/Analyse Structurale du R^cit (du mo ins telle que je la concois)

ne cherche pas k etablir [ [le] ] sens du texte, elle ne cherche m&ns pas & Etablir [ [un] ] sens du texte; elle differs fondamentale- ment de 1'analyse philogique car elle vise a tracer ce que j' apellerai le lieu geometrique, lelieu des sens, le lieu des possibles du texte... Dans ces conditions, 1 'analyse structurale ne peut £tre une methode d 1 interpretation; elle ne cherche pas 29 d* interpreter le texte, a proposer le sens proable du texte..." Barthes carries this structuralist bias to its extreme he denies content; "... the text in its entirety is only a multiplicity of 30 forms without a content." Indeed this structuralist assumption leads Levi-Strauss to oppose Jungian myth criticisn. *lhe French anthropologist contends that it is not the contents of myth— Jung's archetypes— that are unconscious, but rather that it is the 31 forms of the myth that are unconscious. Such a belief proceeds from the linguistic distinction which Ferdinand de Saussure makes between langue and parole. Saussure postulates that the linguistic sign does not unite a thing and a name but rather a concept and a

29 "L'Analyse structurale du r^cit a propos d ’actes X-XI," Recherches de Science Religieuse, 58 (1970), 23-24. 30 "Style and Its linage," in Seymour Chatman, ed., Literary Style: A Symposium (London and New York: Oxford University Press, 5371)', p.6. 31 Elements of Semiology, trans, Annetee Lavers and Colin Smith (New York: Hill and Whag, 1968), pp.24-25. -10- 32 sound image. For the structuralist what is signified when we speak or write is not a thing but rather a mental construct cf the thing. The L^vi-Straussian paradigmatic consciousness is the exterior relationship of a sign to a specific reservoir of other signs. The Proppian syntagmatic consciousness is an exterior relationship of a sign to other signs in the preceding or succeeding discourse. Thus, the structuralist's philosophy posits that there is no reality outside of an intelligible reality— that is, outside of man's mental structure. For Boland, Barthes, structuring is reality itself; for him "to write" is an 33 intransitive verb. Such a stress on forms and structures results in a criticism that concerns itself not with the interpretation of great books but rather with the examination of the validity of a coherent system of signs. Rene Wellek finds such a criticism to be far from satisfactory: "I admire the ingenuity with which Reman Jakobson and Claude L^vi-Strauss have analyzed Baudelaire's sonnet 'Les Chats.' They have demonstrated the

32 For a brief synopsis of Saussurean linguistics as related to structuralism see: Michael Lane, Structuralism: A Reader (London: Jonathan Cape, 1970), especially pp. 11-56.

33 Critical Essays, trans. Richard Howard (Evanston: North­ western University Press, 1972), p. 145. -11-

parallelisms, correspondences, reiterations, and contrasts convincingly, but I fail to see that they have or could have established anything about the aesthetic value in the poem. I agree with Michael ftiffaterre's view that 'no grammatical analysis 34 of a poem can give us more than the grammar of the poem.' ” Neither Levi-Strauss nor Jakobson would argue that they do produce anything more than a "grammar" of the poem. For the two structuralists, reality consists in these parallelisms, correspondences, reiterations, and contrasts— all of which constitute the structure of the poem. 35 For Wellek, a poem is not a structure but a structure of norms; therefore, his criticism betrays a different philosophical bias. For Wellek as well as far many other literary critics, the structuralist approach is perhaps too descriptive and too little interpretative. I do not wish to engage Wellek in a debate over aesthetics. Such a debate would far exceed the scape of my study; nor do I wish to be a defender of the structuralist

34 "Stylistics, Poetics, and Cricitism," in Seymour Chatman, ed., literary Style; A Symposium (London and New York: Oxford university Press, 1971), p.73. 35 Rene Wellek and Austin Warren, Theory of literature, 3rd ed. (New York: Haroourt, 1956). -12- faith. I yield that position to Itoland Barthes and others in the Frerch school. I vd.ll assume that a descriptive "granmar" of a text has its own value— an assumption that seems to be shared by many mo d e m schools of criticism as Lubomir Dolezel indicates: "In last decades, the study of literature has entered the stage of structural analysis. Russian Formalism, Prague structuralism, and American New Criticisn are, in my opinion, different manifestations of the same effort, the effort to attain an exact description of literary structure, and, in this way, to discover specific features of literature 36 as art." If one is willing to grant the structural and formal premise, lie may be more skeptical towards the specific formal approach of Propp and the structural approach of Levi-Strauss to literary criticism. Prcpp himself refuses to extrapolate his description of the one hundred folktales of Afanasiev's collection to an 37 all inclusive formal typology of literature. Roman Jakobson and Petr Bogatyrev insist on the fundamental differences of

36 "The Typology of the Narrator: Point of View in Fiction," in To Honor Roman Jakobson: Essays on the Occasion of his Seventieth BJxjbjxTay, vol. I (The Hague and Paris: Mouton, 1967), p.541. 37 Propp, Chapter 2, "The Method and the Material." -13- folklare forms and literary forms: "Hie typology of folklore forms must be built independently of the typology of literary forms. Et>r example, compare the limited set of fairy tale plots typical of folklore with the diversity of plot characteristic of literature. Like structural linguistic laws, the general laws of poetic compo­ sition which result in a spontaneous likeness of plots are much more uniform and strict in their application to collective creativity 38 39 than in regard to individual creativity." Though sane folklorists stress the role of individual creativity in folktale narration more than do Jakobson and Bogatyrev, for the moment I will grant the two scholars their point. Seymour Chatman also objects to proppian analysis of literature which he feels are incapable of describing 40 the rounded multi-dimensional characters of m o d e m fiction. Similarly, but with fewer qualifications, Julia Kristeva precludes the possibility of applying a Proppian analysis to literature:

38 "On the Boundary Between Studies of Folklore and Literature,11 first published in Russian in Bud Slowianski, 2 (1931), pp. 230-33, trans. Herbert Eagle in Ladislav Matejka and Krystyna Pcmorska, eds., Readings in Russian Poetics: Formalist and Structuralist Views (Caubridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1971), p.93.

39 Linda Degh, Folktales and Society: Story-Telling in a Hungarian Peasant Qaimuriity, trans. Emily M. Schossberger (Bloomington and London: Indiana University Press, 1963). 40 "New Ways of Analyzing Narrative Structure, with an Example from Joyce's Dubliners," language and Style, 2 (1969), 28. -14- "II nous semble inpossible d ’envisager une typologie des recits (ou des autres structures discursives: les drames, les ranans, 41 etc.) en fortion uniquement des situations narratives." The objections of Propp himself, Jakobson and Bogatyrev, Chatman, and £tristeva may be valid in so far as they pertain to all of literature, but it would be rather hasty to preclude a Proppian analysis of Hawthorne's tales which Hoffman and McPherson compare to fairy tale and myth. I do not intend to read Propp's

thirty-one functions into Hawthorne, but rather to adapt the Formalists1 methodology in describing the syntagmatic ordering of the tales. To answer Propp’s objections, I will be dealing with a limited number of tales which receive a narrative coherence and plan from a single author. I will base my analysis on four basic propositions that Propp formulated: 1) that functions serve as

stable, constant elements in a narrative, independent of who performs them and hew they are fulfilled; 2) that the number of functions in a narrative is limited; 3) that a new villainous action creates a new move; 4) that a mcve initiates the plot proper. By adapting Propp's methodology rather than by copying his exact work, I hope

41 Le Texte du Reman: Approche sArijrologigue d'une Structure Discursive Transfarmationelle. The Hague and Paris: Mauton, (1970), p. 70. to avoid merely extrapolating the Russian folklorist' s findings into literature. To counter Jakobson's and Bogatyrev>s objections, by restricting my analysis to Hawthorne's tales, I hope to delineate a specific literary corpus that may not display the diversity of plot character­ istic of the range of all literature. Chatman's objections pertain only to characters depicted realistically and not to the more allegorical characters of Hawthorne's romance. Julia Kristeva's absolute denial of the potential of Proppian analysis seans rather hasty and premature. Such a denial ignores the possibility of a basic distinction among literary genres. Perhaps the Russian critic Boris M. Ejxenbaum makes excessively broad cultural generalizations, but his differentiation of the short story from the novel recalls what Hoffman and McPherson say of Hawthorne's tales: The novel and the short story are forms not only different in kind but also inherently at odds, and for that reason are never found being developed simul­ taneously and with equal intensity in any one literature. The novel is a syncretic form (whether it develops directly from collections of stories or is complicated by the incorporation of manners— and— morals material); the short story is a fundamental elementary -16 (which does not mean primitive) form. The novel derives from history, from travels, the story frcm fairy tale, anecdote. The difference in principle conditioned by the fundamental distinc­ tion between big and snail form. Not only individual writers but also individual literature cultivate either the novel or the short story. 42 While it would be anachronistic in the extrene to ascribe to Hawthorne the critical principles of the Russian Formalist school, in the "Preface" to The House of the Seven Gables Hawthorne distinguishes the romance frcm the novel: "The latter form of composition [the novel] is presumed to aim at a very minute fidelity, not merely to the possible, tut to the probable and ordinary course of man's experience. The former while, as a work of art, it must rigidly subject itself to laws, and while it sins unpardonably, so far as it may swerve aside frcm the truth of the human heart— has fairly a right to present that truth under circumstances, to a great 43 extent of the writer's own choosing or creation." The laws

42 "O. Henry and the Theory of the Short Story," first published in Russian in Literatura (1927), pp. 166-209, trans. I. R. Titunik in Matejka and Pomoroska, p. 231. 43 "Preface" to The House of the Seven Gables, Centenary Edition (Columbus, Ohio: "Ohio State university Press, 1965) , p. 1. -17 that Hawthorne alludes to may be (and I stress the hypo­ thetical nature of the vrord "may”) the laws of form and structure. Perhaps the results of my study will suggest sane of the laws of Hawthorne's narrative. Like Hawthorne, Fredric Jameson is insistent on the laws which govern a short story or tale in contrast to the minute fidelity to history that the novel must display: "It follows that there are no preexisting laws that govern the elaboration of the novel as a form: each one is different, a leap in the void, an invention of content simultaneous with the invention of form. It is because the short story or the myth or the tale, on the other hand, are characterized by a specific and determinate type of content 44 that their laws can be the object of investigation." On the basis of a distinction made between the novel and the

44 Ihe Prison-House of Language: A Critical Account of Structuralian and Russian Rarmalran TPrinceton, Princeton University Press, I572y7~pT~737 -18- short story or tale, it would seem that Julia Kristeva's denial of the validity of Proppian analysis to any type of literature is overhasty. One formidable critic of Propp with special relevance to my dissertation is L^vi-Strauss himself. The French structuralist objects to Propp because the former considers the latterrs approach to be opposed to content 45 or meaning; however, formalism and structuralism need not contradict each other. The formal, syntagmatic analysis of narrative pertains to the compositional principles of ordering the actions whereas the structural, paradigmatic analysis of literature is concerned with the configuration of themes. The two approaches are not mutually exclusive 46 but rather complementary. L^vi-Strauss' paradigmatic analysis is an outgrowth of Sasssurian linguistics. Fbr the French anthropologist the signified is a mental construct rather than a thing. In his study of the Oedipus myth, L^vi-Strauss makes four essential

45 "L'Analyse morphologigue des contes russes," Inter- national Journal of Slavic Linguistics and Poetics, 3 (1960), 122-49. 46 Alsace Yen, "On Vladimir Propp and Albert B. Lord: Their Theoretical Differences," JAF, 86 (1973), 166. -19- assumptions: 1) myth, like the rest of language, consists of mental constructs which he terms constituent units? 2) these constituent units presuppose the constituent units present in language— phonemes, morphemes, and semantenes; 3) because these constituent units belong to a larger and more complex order than phonemes, morphemes, and semantenes, he names them gross constituent units; 4) these constituent units are in polar opposition: e.g. over-rating of blood relatives vs. under-rating of blood relatives: persistence of belief in the autochthonous origin of men vs. denial of 47 this belief. The Jakobson and L^vi-Strauss analysis of 48 Les Chats begins with an analysis of the gross constituent units. This Levi-Straussian analysis is far frcm being universally accepted. Lucien Goldmann objects to the technique because he doubts that linguistic studies can be "extended to the totality of signifieds, the thought

47 Levi-Strauss, "L1 Analyse morphologique des contes russes," pp. 210-39. 48 Reman Jakobson and Claude Levi-Strauss, see note 24. 5-

-20- 49 of the universe that a work is intended to express." Goldmann's objection betrays his lack of sympathy with the structuralist philosophy— that meaning inheres in structure, that structure itself is the thought of the universe. This structuralist faith may be one of the, two poles of mo d e m thought, in fundamental opposition to the other pole. Jacques Derrida reveals the difference between Levi-Strauss and Nietzsche— a difference between two systems of thought which cannot be resolved: II y a done deux interpretations de I1 interpretation, de la structure, de signe et du jeu. L' une cherche a dechiffrer, reve de dechiffrer une verite ou une origine echappant au jeu et a l'ordre du signe, et vit c a m e un exil la necessite de 1'interpretation. L'outre qui n'est plus tournee vers 1'origine, affirme le jeu et tente de passer au-dela de I ’homme ^tant le nan de cet £tre quj a trOvers l'histoire de la mita- physique ou de 1'onto-theologie, e'est- h dire de tout de son histoire, a rive la presence pleine, le fondement rassurant 1'origine et la fin du jeu. Cette deuxifeme interpretation de 1'interpretation, dont Nietzsche nous a indiqu£ la voie ne cher die

49 "Structure: Human Reality and Methodological Concept," in Richard !4adcsey and Eugenio Donato, The Language of Criticism and the Sciences of Man: The Structuralist Controversy (Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1970), p. 108. pas dans l'eathnographie, ccmne le voulant L^vi-Strauss dont je cite encore 11Introduction a I1oeuvre de Mauss 1'inspiratrice d'un nouvel humanisme. 50 Both systems have a value; both have a function. It is not necessary to deny the one in order to affirm the other. A second major criticism of D^vi-Strauss1 structuralism is its lack of an historical consciousness; in its pure form structuralism is atenporal. L^vi-Strauss analyzes the Oedipus myth in all of its major manifestations in history. Such a lack of historical consciousness vrould seem to limit the applicability of the approach to a genre so closely allied to history as the novel, but would not affect its appropriateness to folklore, nyth, and possibly to forms closely allied to folklore and nyth such as Hawthorne's tales. Perhaps theorizing affirms the play itself. The test of any theory lies in its success in elucidating the text, and this is the task of the rest of this study.

50 , L'Ecriture et la difference (Paris: Editions, de Seuil, 1967), p. 427. CHAPTER 2 The Corpus of the Tales: Form and Structure X. Structure In discussing the paradigmatic structure of Hawthorne's tales, one confronts a substantial body of criticism which does not explicitly adopt structuralist theory or terminology but which does analyze Hawthorne's achievement as the taut equilibrium or even disequilibrium existing in polar opposition. F. 0. Matthiessen speaks of the equipoise between matter and spirit, imagin­ ation and actuality, which characterizes the tales and 1 romances. Like Matthiessen, Roy R. Male insists upon the romance's inherent union of bipolar structures: "But, as he kept insisting, Hawthorne was a romancer. He did merge poetry and fiction, the imaginary and the actual, 2 the universal and the particular." In his study of "The Custom House," Larzer Ziff observes that Hawthorne's

1 The American Renaissance: Art and Expression in the Age of Emerson and Whitman (London, Oxford, New York; Oxford University Press, 1941), p.257.

2 Hawthorne's Tragic Vision (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1957), p.19.

-22- -23- definition of the romance as the meeting ground between the actual and the imaginary governs his moral 3 conclusions. Donald A. Ringe views the essence of these moral conclusions as the psychological balance between the head, the seat of the intellect, and the 4 heart, the center of human affection and sympathy. The psychological union of head and heart finds its artistic counterpart in what Richard H. Fogle terms the light, the 5 clarity of design, and the dark, the tragic complexity.

Hugo McPherson has devised a complex schema for interpreting the night and day of Hawthorne's fiction:

3 "The Ethical Dimension of 'Hie Custom House,'" MIN, 73 (1958), 338-44. 4 "Hawthorne's Psychology of Head and Heart," PMLA, 65 (1950), 120-32. See also Nina Baym, "The Head, the Heart, and the Unpardonable Sin," NEQ, 40 (1967), 31-47; C. E. Eisinger, "'Hawthorne as Champion of the Middle way," NEQ, 27 (1954), 27-52. 5 Hawthorne's Fiction: The Light and the Dark, rev. ed. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1964), p.4. -24-

"The daylight world in which the quest begins is associated with sun, flame, money, iron, pcwer, the senses, and the narrow rationalism of law> this is the empirical, the concrete dimension of nan's temporal experiences. The moonlit world which the hero enters is an insubstantial area where he will accomplish his mission 'as though in a dream'; it is associated with the air, invisibility, mirrors, fountains, and magic; this is the realm of imagination, the dusky area in which 6 the hero discovers his power." Other recent studies of Hawthorne have emphasized patterns of opposition and mean- 7 ing. Certainly there is no dearth of scholarship con­ cerning structural configurations of conflicts, as theoretically expounded in Cleanth Brooks' and Robert Penn Warren's Understanding Fiction (1943). As

6 Hawthorne as Myth-Maker: A Study in Imagination, University of Toronto Department of English Studies and Texts, No. 16 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1969), p. 15. 7 Nancy Liddel Bunge, "A Thematic Analysis of Forty Short Stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne," Diss. Wisconsin 1970; Carol Bronston Schoen, "The Pattern of Meaning: Theme and Structure in the Fiction of Nathaniel Hawthorne," Diss. Columbia 1968. - 25-

Lubcxnis Dolezel points out, structuralism has a great 8 deal in common with other varieties of m o d e m criticism. Apropos of such similarity between American New Criticism and European structuralism, it would seem legitimate to question the necessity of introducing new critical principles and terms in reading Hawthorne. Wherein lies the value? Perhaps the answer to this question lies in the L^vi-Straussian concept of gross constituent units. Whereas man/ of the analyses of Hawthorne indicate the presence of conflicts, few systematically conceive of these oppositions as being the 9 grammar of the work. Richard H. Fogle's excellent study of "The Artist of the Beautiful" implicitly adopts a theory of gross constituent units; however, he does not 10 maintain such an approach in all of his readings. Thus,

8 "The Typology of the Narrator: Point of View in Fiction" in To Honor Roman Jakobson: Essays on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday, vol.I (The Hauge, Paris: Mouton, 1967), p. 541. 9 See Ringe and McPherson for systematic analysis. 10 Fogle's readings of "Young Goodman Brown," "The Minis­ ter's Black Veil," "The Maypole of Merry Mount," "Rappaccini's Daughter," "IV Kinsman, Major Molineux," and "The Birthmark" do not employ the examination of bipolar structures. - 26-

in viewing such polarities as essential components of the graranar of the text, the structuralist approach can organize and classify the paradigms underlying the work. Secondly, by granting the premise that meaning adheres in the configuration of gross constituent units, one can understand the role of Hawthorne's narrator in the tales. As artist, the narrator helps in shaping the gross

constituent units; and, as scientist, he attempts to derive an explicit statement of the meaning inherent in such a structure. John Caldwell Stubbs analyzes the device of alternative meanings as the result of the narratorr'h becoming the interpreter of his fiction: "With Hawthorne we are engaged more with a dynamic process of probing for meaning. Hawthorne may set forth a theme or idea, only to oppose it with its opposite, or he may consider a series of alternatives as a means to resolve a given theme. Usually we are as iruch aware of the process of weighing 11 meanings as we are of any final solution." Acting as an interpreter of the structure, the narrator may be unaware

11 The Pursuit of Borm: A Study of Hawthorne and the Romance (Urbana, C&cago, London: University of Illinois Press, 1970), p.50. -27- of the meaning in his story or he may elucidate it. Accordingly D. H. Lawrence's dictum that one should 12 trust the tale and not the artist, is quite valid— provided that one does not ignore the simultaneously creative and critical renarks of the narrator. Perhaps the greatest value in utilizing the structuralist approach lies in seeing it as a ccnplement to the formal pattern of the narrative. Once the major poles of opposition have been defined, the formal movement from the initial villainy to liquidation of misfortune or to defeat may become far more lucid. The precise relation­ ship between structure and form will be discussed in more detail in the section of this chapter on the formal outline of the tales. No matter what theoretical advantages may be cited in the apology for the structuralist approach the only true gauge to its validity lies in its success in elucidating the text. In the fifty-eight tales examined in this study, there are two basic groupings of the gross constituent units.

12 Studies in Classic American Literature (London: Martin Seeker, 1927), p.2. -28- One pertains to the polarities of imagination and reality, spirit and matter, eternity and time, innocence and experience, female and male. Such polarities exist within man himself, both as an individual and as a species. The other describes the relationship of individual to group and thereby encompasses such oppositions as isolation and integration, democracy and aristocracy, self and systems. These groups and subgroups of paired opposites are closely related. McPherson's division of the tales into a daylight and a moonlit world is quite helpful in understanding the interrelationships of those gross constituent units dealing with the polarities existing in man. The empirical world of the daylight ooqarises the real, the historical, the experienced, the male world of iron, money, power, and law while the moonlit world embraces the imagination, the spiritual, the eternal, the innocent, the feminine world of beauty, flowers, and hixnan love. The relationship of man to a society or other larger system often may be integrated into one or more of the oppositions which McPherson describes. -29-

Although the paradigms of most tales conform to one or both of the patterns described above, in A Wonder book and in Tanglewood Tales there are seme stories which seem to vary from the predominant structures and to be more closely allied to structures inherent in the rryths and legends out of which Hawthorne fashioned these 13 tales. There is one more caveat in dealing with the structure of a tale. Within each one of these sub-groups of polar oppositions, an individual tale may seem to stress one of the gross constituent units, but such a stress does not necessarily mean that Hawthorne as author of the entire corpus of tales is advocating a particular pole as the positive one and the other as the negative. For exanple, within the sub-group of imagination and reality, "The Snow Inage" may suggest the precedence of the victimized imagination over the apparently tyrannically potent, paternal, and empirical reason; yet, within this sub­ group "David Swan" accentuates the positive, preserving force of everyday actuality over the marvelous.

13 This matter will be discussed in the "Conclusion." -30-

Perhaps the most famous of the tales in the grouping of imagination and reality is "The Artist of 14 the Beautiful." Fogle describes this tale as embodying the essence of the Romantic movement: "'The Artist of the Beautiful' is a Romantic affirmation of the value of art and the spiritual preeminence of the artists' imagination which intuitively penetrates to highest 15 Goodness, Truth, and Beauty," Yet within this neo- Platonic ascent to the highest plateaus of existence, the artist may lose his substance in the aetherial insubstantiality which he breathes. A blacksmith or even a baby has a power and bulk which may overwhelm the artist as the father actually does in "The Snow Image." Although Owen Warland may have overcame the threat posed by the society around him, he is an outcast. "The White Old Maid" likewise describes a pariah, but she at least has a function recognized by the community. By metaphorically embodying death she reminds the bustling

14 Because a tale is cited as exemplifying a particular opposition, this does not necessarily mean that other contrasts are not operative in the tale. 15 Fogle, p. 78. - 31- townsfolk of their ultimate end and of the moonlit realm of the imagination. Dcminicus Pike, the Yankee raconteur and tobaooo merchant of "Mr. Higginbocham's

Catastrophe," also has a social function but it is quite unlike that of the White Old Lady's? he entertains his audience (incidentally selling cigars and pipe tobaooo) with an exuberance which acorns the petty fidelity of actuality to achieve more entertaining results. Like Owen War land, Dcminicus Pike is an artist— but unlike the artist of the beautiful, the Yankee peddler yokes his imagination to the mercantile society about him. Hie imagination, though, is not only in the service of artists and Yankees, but also distorted in the minds of crazed devotees such as Oberon in "Hie Devil in Manu­ script" or the frustrated fortune hunter in "Peter

Goldthwaite's Treasure." In "David Swan," it is not a diseased or middirected imagination which possesses a negative value but the marvelous itself; however, imagination and actuality may not always be at odds. In "Drowne's Wboden image" the poles fuse momentarily as the pedestrian skill of the woodoarver yokes with - 32 - his imagination to produce an accomplishment worthy of

Pygmalion himself. In "lhe ttiree-Fold Destiny," Ralph Cranfield ultimately appreciates how his imaginative destiny is a function of his every-day, apparently mundane existence. Consequently, within this sub­ group, each tale occupies a different position on the spectrum between imagination and reality. Similarly, the relative focus of each tale developing out of the antithesis between spirit and matter is quite varied. "Circe's Palace" develops the paradox of man's dual nature. As a being endowed with reason, man is a spiritual essence; but, as a creature of flesh, man is an animal given to appetites made stronger by his "mockery" of a reason. Ulysses is able to mediate between the bifurcation, but his men are not. Nor is Leonard Doane in "Alice Doane's Appeal.” Raced with the emergence of sexual desire and possibly incestuous lust, Leonard futilely attempts to repress his flesh; finally he murders as he is no longer capable of restraining the beast within. Matter can be destructive as it is in "The Chimaera" where an earth-bound creature -33- devastates a kingdom or unsuccessfully intrudes itself upon a spiritual being as in "Sylph Etherege" or "The Gentle Bay." Matter may even be a burlesque or diminution of itself as in the characters of the earth-born Antaeus and his miniscule companions in "The Pygmies." Man's composition seems to be like that of the Antique Ring in the story of the same name: beautiful but flawed— so flawed that potentially it is in danger of destroying itself. But matter itself poses no monolithic threat; denial of the flesh can be ultimately damning for a man like Adam Colburn in "The Shaker Bridal" or Aylmer in "The Birthmark." Man consists not only of spirit and matter, good and evil but also of an innate discontent which forces him to be dissatisfied, to quest after seme form of equilibrium. Perhaps "The Intelligence Office" is only the domain of a secretary, but in its transcription it reveals much about the nature of man. Just as man must heed the exigencies of his dual nature so must he attune himself to the demands of eternity and of time. The young stranger with dreams of a lasting if not - 34- eteraal monument in "Hie Anbitious Guest" finds posterity urvnindful of him as his mortality falls victim to the mountain. "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" reveals the folly of trying to circumvent the inexorable passage of time. Time-bound nature is not always triunphant, however. After a vain quest for a bower of bliss in "The Lily's Quest,” Adam Forrester finally realizes that happiness resides not in earth's temporal sphere but in heaven's eternity. Similarly in "The Wedding Knell," Hr. EUerxwood rather dramatically convinces his bride not to wed him far the vanity of time but for the reality of eternity. On earth, art bestows sane permanence over an ephemeral existence, but in a tale such as "The Prophetic Pictures" the artist, himself a time-bound creature, seems suspect because he attempts to usurp the function of God. The passage from innocence to experience approximates the movement from an eternal, naive present to an historical, sin-burdened past. Before Pandora opens the interdicted box in "The Paradise of Children," she and her playmates live in a Peter Pan existence devoid of history and of sin, but her -35 action opens the paradise to disease, old age, and death. Yet innocence, though pastorally idyllic, is devoid of knowledge and, most importantly, of hope. In "The Maypole of Merry Mount," the movement of Edith and Edgar from the maypole to the Puritans' whipping post is an arduous one; but, as in "The Paradise of Children," it is a necessary one— just as necessary as the movement from spring to winter. The fate of Robin, the shrewd youth of "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," is less certain than that of the heroes in the other two tales, but is just as essential. Yet experience itself is no Eden, as Young Goodman Brown discovers.

It would seem that within man no pole is complete unto itself whether it consist of imagination or reality, spirit or matter, eternity or time, innocence or experi­ ence, or as will become apparent, female or male. "John Inglefield's Thanksgiving" is a portrait.-of male despair, of phallic strength and rigidity divorced frcm the know­ ledge and magic of women. Pluto's realm of hard metal initially dominates King Midas in "The Golden Tbuch," -36- but the king ocmes to appreciate the flowery realm of Proserpina through his experience. In "The Pomegranate Seeds" the masculine god of mineral wealth and the feminine goddess of vegetation affect a reconciliation with Pluto and Ceres each enjoying a reign of six months. In "The Golden Fleece," the natural gallantry of Jason and the other Argonauts coupled with the knowledge and magic of women results in a successful quest. In the group of tales stressing man's relationship to other men or institutions, perhaps the most essential opposition is between isolation from society and integration with it. In "The Wives of the Dead" there is a union of contrasting characters in love but such a complete harmony between individuals is rare. "The Hollow of Three Hills" depicts a woman severed from the most intimate bonds of human affection by sin; instead of a bustling hearth and home she is in a desolated hollow with only an old crone for a companion. "The Christinas Banquet" also depicts a character lacking integration with society but his defi­ ciency is due to nature; ostensibly successful, he proves to be hardly a man at all. Richard Digby of "The Man of -37-

Adamant" and the Reverend Mr. Hooper of '"The Minister1 s

Black Veil" alienate themselves from their fellows for

reasons apparently religious, the former physically through

his cave and the latter emblematically by his black veil.

The cantankerous Richard Digby loses all social contact

through his frenzied misreading of Scripture, but the

relationship of Reverend Hooper to his congregation is

far more complex. Paradoxically his social utility as a

pastor increases as his alienation from his fellow men

increases; in taking upon himself the burden of the black

veil, he almost becomes a scapegoat. Akin the divine is

the scientist whose labor would or could benefit all men

yet he too risks losing his human feeling through his

work. Dr. Rappaccini, and even Baglioni and Guiseppe

allow their curiosity to override their love for Beatrice,

making her the object of their experiments rather than of

their compassion. "Ethan Brand" depicts a character, a man of intellect, initially motivated by human love, who

has lost his humanity in a monomaniacal quest for the

Unpardonable sin. But men of intellect are not alone in

the alienation of human affection. In "Roger Malvin's

Burial," Reuben Bourne withdraws into himself out of a sense -38- of guilt only to gain a release from his confinement through the death of his son. Roderick Ellis ton suffers from Egotism, or the Bosom Serpent, but his renewed affection for his wife earns him a far easier reintegration with society than Reuben Bourne undergoes. It would seem that love between a man and a woman is a prime factor in determining the harmonious relationship of the self with the group. In "The Canterbury Pilgrims," characters who have never experienced this love, lose it, flee from the world to the cold security of a Shaker settlement while a couple who feel this love are on the threshold of entering this world. In the search for the Great Carbuncle, only the couple, after renouncing the selfish quest in favor of the love and support that they lend each other, can avoid the punishment of an egoistic quest. Hie danger inherent in isolation threatens not 16 only individuals but even whole groups. The iniquity

16 See Lawrence S. Hall, Hawthorne; Critic of Society (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1944); Irving Howe, Politics and the Novel (New York: Meridian, 1956). -39- of aristocracy lies in its artificial alienation of men based upon a mistaken veneration of the past. Like Feathertop in a story of the same name, the aristocrat may be little more than a mass of strutting straw; however, unlike the scarecrow, few noblemen experience the "shock" of recognition. Old Esther Dudley represents the morbid preoccupation with lineage and past glory which isolates her in the old Province House even while America is severing its allegiance to the ancient regime. In another of the "Legends of the Province House," Lieutenant- Governor Hutchinson isolates himself from his fellow Americans with his reactionary allegiance to the king instead of to the people. "Howe’s Masquerade" presents a dumb-show which presages the end of aristocratic, colonial rule. But of all the legends of the Province House, "Lady Eleanore' s Mantle" most graphically manifests the innate shame of aristocratic isolation; not even titles and fine clothes can immunize the nobility against the cannon enemy of man— the smal 1-pox. The spirit of the people will rise as it does in "The Gray Champion"; yet even democracy has its demagogues. While proclaiming freedom, the Puritan leader manifests his own degree of tyranny in "Endicott and the Red Cross." -40-

Whether the systems with which man surrounds himself are political, social, or economic, the individual must both integrate himself with it and realize that the systems themselves display the imperfections of human workmanship. "Wakefield" depicts the dangerous isolation which befalls a man when he steps aside from human systems for even a moment. For the new Adam and Eve in a tale with the same name such systems are shamefully artificial, but for Wake­ field living in mo d e m London the systems are most essential. Even for such a society as exists in "The Great Stone Face" systems of belief are vital; each man in the community, even the man who will become the Great Stone Face, posits his hopes for the ideal and for ocmnunity salvation in the realization of the folk belief. But systems are far from perfect; at times man may become / the victim of the social patterns, beliefs, and institutions which he creates. In "The Miraculous Pitcher" the villagers institutionalize communal inhospitality in contrast to Baucis and Philemon who remain apart from the group for their retention of natural virtues. -41-

Four of Hawthorne's recreations of classical nythology seem to reflect a structure more akin to the traditional narratives than to the paradigms characteristic of the other tales. "The Gorgon's Head" celebrates the victory of mobility over stasis while "The Three. Golden Apples" stresses the necessity of patient forbearance in a hero accustomed to precipitate action. "The Dragon's Teeth1' narrates the transition from a nomadic to a settled society. "The Minotaur" opposes the serenity of the sea to the turbulence of the land. Although this concludes the brief survey of the structures inherent in the corpus of the tales examined, it is not meant to be definitive but rather illustrative. Any such categorizing and classifying cannot do full justice to each one of the tales and may seem to establish a Procrustean bed of gross constituent units. One tale may utilize severed, or all of the sub-groups of meaning and both of the major categories, i.e. the dual constitution of man and the individual' s relationship to systems. "Young Goodman Brown" concerns not only the movement from innocence to experience but also the transition from 42- integration with the ooirrnunity to isolation; "The Canterbury Pilgrims" outlines the development fran the isolation of a Shaker settlement to inmersion in the world and describes a paradigm of innocence and experience. Hawthorne utilizes a whole complex of these gross constituent units in any single tale to achieve his meaning. Meaning adheres in structure and Hawthorne's meanings are complex. Although this classification of the tales into major groups and subgroups does not claim the definitiveness of scienti­ fic generic categories, it does serve to reveal the major paradigm of each tale— an indispensable function if one is to understand the formal pattern.

II. Form Just as meaning generates from the configuration of gross constituent units so does the narrative develop from the pattern of functions. For Propp, the basic unit of narration, the function, is "an act of character, defined from the point of view of its significance for the course 17 of the action." In Propp's morphology, there are thirty- one of these functions or narrative units, any number of

17 Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the. Folktale, trans. Laurence Scott and Louis A. Wagner, 2nd ed. (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1968), p.21. which may appear in a given tale, the only restriction being that the sequence of the functions is consistent; thus, after an initial situation and several preparatory functions (I-VII), a tale may open with a villainy (the eighth function), and then develop with a king or other character dispatching a hero (IX) to liquidate the villainy and with the hero accepting the mission (X).

The chanpion leaves (XLf, encounters a donor (XII) who, if the hero responds positively (XIII), bequeaths a magical agent (XIV), to assist the hero in reaching his destination (XV) and/or in struggling with the villain (XVI). Finally the champion overcomes his enemy (XVIII) after suffering a wound or receiving a brand (XVII) and thereby liquidates the initial wrong (XIX). The hero begins his return (XX) and may have to Escape from pursuit (XXI, XXII). He arrives in the kingdcm, possibly unnoticed (XXIII), and may have to prove himself against the claims of a false hero (XXIV-XXVI). Finally the true hero is recognized (XXVII) and the false hero exposed (XXVIII). The champion may be given a new appearance (XXIX) and marry and ascend the throne (XXXI), while the false hero is punished (XXX). In sane narrative -44- pattems, the first seven functions do not appear; in other patterns, the last eleven functions may not be 18 operative or a specific one may be absent. To provide further variety, an individual function may be repeated; moreover, trebling is a very common device in oral 19 narrative. Such a schema allows each tale to possess its own uniqueness of construction while at the same time to reflect a generic pattern; however, some tales exhibit a further complexity by combining "moves.” 20 Each new villainy constitutes a new move; thus, in a story manifesting multiple moves there are multiple 21 narrative patterns. Devices such as parallelism or repetition may shape the coherence of a story containing more than one move.

IS Propp, "2he Functions of Dramatis Personae," Morphology of The Folktale,pp. 25-65. 19 Propp, pp. 74-75; see also Axel Olrik, "Epic Laws of Folk Narrative" in Alan Dundes, ed., The Study of Folklore (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1965), pp. 133-34.

20 Propp, p. 92. 21 Propp,"The Tale as a Whole", pp. 92-117. -45-

Hawthome's tales manifest all the complexities of trebling and repetition as well as significant phenomena characteristic of written narration. Often there are two different narrative time lines: the sequence of Propp's functions and the points at which these functions are narrated. A tale may begin in raedias res and employ flashbacks to fill in narrative functions. Perhaps the best way to illustrate this is through a specific example. ,rIly Kinsman, Major Molineux" opens with an initial situation describing the historical environment at the time of the narrative - a frame. Then the plot begins with a journey across a river by the protagonist aided by a helper (X). Once in the town, Robin seeks someone to direct him to his kinsman's house? however, he is un­ successful in these attempts because he does not respond with the proper password. The shrewd youth is seeking a donor (XII) who will grant him the requisite knowledge (XIV) to find Major Molineux. Robin little realizes that the donor he needs must do far more for him than act as a notifier. This donor must grant him knowledge of life's ambivalence; however, unaware of the townsfolk's dissatisfaction with royal rule and the representatives of that mile, he -46- approaches these potential donors with the wrong password

(XXII-negative) and receives no answer. Finally Robin thrusts his cudgel in front of the ape-man (XI I-struggle with a hostile donor) and at last obtains his first positive answer, "Watch here an hour, and Major Molineux will pass by." At this point, Robin seats himself by the church door and dreams of the warmth and security of his father's hone— an elaboration of the initial situation. Then a kindly gentleman offers his assistance to Robin and the youth tells him that he came to the city to seek his kinsman, Major

Molineux, because his elder brother is destined to succeed to his father's farm (VIIIa-Lack) and that it is determinied that

Robin should seek his fortune in the town (IX). The shrewd youth thinks it high time to begin in the world (X) and, therefore, leaves (XI). Such a double time-line does not affect the validity of Propp's morphology for, regardless of when the functions are disclosed in the tale, they still occur logically and chronologically in the sequence out­ lined by the Russian formalist. Like trebling, parallelism, and repetition the opening of a narrative in medias res -47- with flashbacks or other descriptions filling in the necessary details is a literary convention at least as venerable as the epic. In examining the thirty-one functions, one constantly encounters such terms as hero, villain, donor, the sought-for-person, the false hero, the dispatcher, idle helper; indeed Propp has defined a function as "an act of character." In the brief discussion of "Sty Kinsman, Major Molineux," Robin appears as the hero and various characters as donors or as potential donors. Characters perform different functions and accordingly acquire different 22 spheres of activity. The hero's sphere of activity embraces Beginning Counteraction (X), Departure (XI), Response to the Donor (XIII), Wedding (XXXI); the hero may also function as self-dispatcher (IX). The villain's sphere of action includes Villainy (VIII), Struggle (XVI), and Pursuit (XXI). The donor functions in XII and in XIV, Provision or Receipt of Magical Agent. The helper participates in Guidance (XV),

22 Propp,"The Distribution of Functions Among Dramatis Personae," pp. 79-83. -48-

Lack-Liquidation (XIX), Rescue fran Pursuit (XXII),

Solution of Difficult Tasks (XXVI), and Transfiguration of tiie Hero (XXIX). The sought-far-perscn (the princess and her father) perform in the Assignment of Difficult

Tasks (XXV), Branding (XVII), Exposure (XXVIII), Recognition (XXVII) , Punishnent (XXX), and Wedding (XXXI). The dispatcher functions in IX and the false hero appears most preeminently in XXIV. The manner in which the characters in a tale participate in a sphere of activity varies. A different character may correspond to each sphere of activity or one character may function in several different spheres of activity or several characters may participate in a single sphere of activity as in the case of the multiple characters functioning as donors in

"My Kinsman, Major Molineux." Hawthorne's tales derive a great deal of their caiplexity by assigning two spheres of action to one character, especially by making the protagonist partake of the hero's and the villain's spheres of action. In 23 "The Minister's Black Veil," the Reverend Mr. Hooper both

23 Rar more extended analyses of each tale see subsequent chapters. -49- ccrmits a villainy by shielding himself frctn his congre­ gation with his veil and functions as a hero by taking action (X) against his parishioners' obliviousness to evil. Young Goodman Brown notes a lack within himself and decides to rectify it by spending one night in the forest. In liquidating this lack, however, he does far more than indulge in one last debauch? he becomes his own villain, depriving himself of human love because of his all enshrouding vision of evil. Ethan Brand engages in a similar split-participation in the roles of the hero and of the villain. In setting out on his eighteen-year quest for the Unpardonable Sin, he participates in the functions of Beginning Counteraction and of Departure, both of which are assigned to the hero; however, in the course of his quest he violates a human heart and, thus, partakes of the villain's sphere of action. In

"Rappaccini's Daughter," Giovanni would seem to be the hero rescuing the fair princess Beatrice from her villain­ ous father; yet, the hero and even Baglioni, the would-be donor, participate in Rappaccini's villainy of cold, scientific detachment. Even the Puritan hero Endicott in - 50-

"Endicott and the Red Cross" is not free from villainy. In rending the English cross from Massachusett' s banner, he serves as a chanpion of liberty; but, in unilaterally enforcing his s t e m and biased religious fanticism against those who would oppose him, he participates in the villain's sphere of action. In these and in many other tales, one character's participation in several spheres of action— especially the hero's and the villain's— interweaves the tale with a fine thread of complexity. Hawthorne renders his narrative strand even more complex by employing a great deal of repetition, parallelism, and other devices in utilizing a relatively small number of Propp's functions. Most of Hawthorne's tales focus on functions VIII or Villa (Villiany or Lack through XIX or XIX negative, Lack Liquidated or Lack-not Liquidated). Slightly less than half of the fifty-eight tales, only twenty-eight of them, employ any of the first seven functions and/or the initial situation; of these twenty-eight tales, ten manifest only the initial situation and four display only absence. Initially, the stress would seem to be to engage the tale in the move as quickly as possible; or, even with a tale such as "My Kinsnan, Major Molineux" which has an initial situation, to plunge into the narrative in medias res. Ebnctions twenty through thirty-one are also rela­ tively scarce. Of the twenty-five tales utilizing the last twelve functions, eleven employ function XX (Return) only. In contrast to the relative paucity of the first seven and of the last twelve functions, all of the tales manifest a Lack or Villainy (Villa or VU I ) ; fifty-one exhibit IX (Mediation, Dispatching); forty-four display X (Beginning Counteraction); forty-eight involve a form of journey (XI); forty-two have a donor (XII) and a response to the donor (XIII); the provision or receipt of a magical (or, as will be shown, a moral) agent occurs in thirty-two of the tales— three of these agents are insufficient to liquidate the lack, however; guidance, struggle, and branding are relatively rare except in the recreations of classical mythology; victory or defeat is quite prominent, and lack-liquidated or lack-not liquidated is as indispensable as the initial misfortune. Consequently, in most of the tales, Hawthorne uses only a limited nunber - 52-

of separate functions to convey his narrative. In establishing a move, lack (Villa) is far more prominent than is villainy (VIII). Twelve of the tales consist of one move which initiates in an internal moral lack; ten tales— seven of which are from A Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales— consist of one move originating in an external need, e.g. the head of the gorgon Medusa. Thirty-six of the tales examined involve a two-fold lack encompassing the quest for an external need such as money or position and an internal deficiency, such as a moral naivete. In "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," Fobin seeks his relation so that he can have a position in the world, but he suffers from a moral need to forego his innocent faith in his shrevdness to experience the two voices and the two faces of man. In "Lady Eleanore’s Mantle," the proud, young aristocrat goes to America because she has no family left in England; however, her American experience provides her with self-knowledge.

Through suffering in America, she realizes the immorality of her former pride. In "The Birthmark," Aylmer successfully eradicates the flaw which, he thinks, mars his wife's perfection; but, in removing this external imperfection he reveals his cwn ignorance of human nature. This paralleling of an external lack with an intemsil one reveals the complementary interaction of paradigmatic structure with syntagmatic form. The gross constituent units of "tty Kinsman, Major Molineux" consist of naive innocence and an experienced Knowledge of the world; such a paradigm quite conspicuously mirrors the general movanent from internal lack to a potential liquidation of this lack. The structure of "Lady Eleanore' Mantle" likewise supports the formal movement from aristo­ cratic aloofness to a more egalitarian stance. Similarly, the structural polarization of spirit and matter functions in unison with Aylmer'a failure to comprehend the twin poles of human nature. But structure and form harmonize not only in tales where an internal lack parallels an external one but also in narratives where only an internal or external need is present. Young Goodman Brown has a rendezvous with the devil to counterpoise his innocence with seme experience of evil, but Brown does not mediate between the poles of the innocence of evil and the experience of it. He moves from one opposite to the other, thereby camiitting another villainy. Even in a tale with an external villainy such as "The Chdmaera," the structured opposition defines the poles of villain and hero. The Chimaera is an earth-bound monster over­ come by aethereal purity represented by Bellerophon mounted upon the pure white, winged Pegasus; thus, the structure reflects and even defines the two vital functions the villainy perpetrated by the chimaera and the triumph over this monster accomplished by the hero. Neither structure nor form exists in isolation. The special nature of the lack which characteristi­ cally pertains to a moral need influences the disposition of the remaining functions. Because the need is often an internal, moral one, the hero may reveal the deficiency to himself, thereby acting as his own dispatcher. In "The Maypole of Merry Mount," Edith senses the emptiness of undisciplined revelry even before the approach of the Puritans and tells Edgar, her male counterpart, of this intuition. Young Goodman Brown sends himself into the moral as well as physical darkness of the forest, unaware of the lasting effects of what was intended as one night's whim. Perhaps like Edith he perceives an end to innocence; yet, unlike the heroine of Merry Mount, he alienates him­ self even fron his spouse, Faith. Even more so than Goodman Brown, Ethan Brand's self-dispatched search for evil trans­ forms his once gentle spirit into a demon. In tales in which there is an external as well as an internal lack, a dispatcher other than the hero will sane times send the hero on a guest for the external need while the mediation of the moral deficiency is not made explicit in the narra­ tion. In "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," the impetus for Robin's journey to the city derives from a vague consensus, "it was therefore determined," as if the family were acting in concert while he seons unaware of the moral need up to and perhaps including the gentleman's offer to help him. In "Lady Eleanore's Mantle," the consort of Governor Shute invites her relative, Lady Eleanore, to America in order to supply a refuge for her; upon the lady's arrival in America certainly neither woman perceives the moral failing which the English aristocrat suffers from. Within the corpus of the tales, there are also other -56- traditional dispatchers in the tradition of the fairy­ tale, such Polydectes in "The Gorgon's Head" and Iobates in "The Chimaera." In the tales studied, twenty- six make the hero serve as self-dispatcher; four have both a hero-dispatcher and a separate character serving as dispatcher; seventeen utilize a character other than the hero to announce the misfortune; in the rest of the tales the presence of the dispatcher is not explicit. Certainly, by frequently having one character serve in both the hero's and dispatcher's spheres of action, Hawthorne enriches the 24 narrative complexity of his work through a sparseness in the numbers of characters. The functions of Beginning Counteraction and Departure are closely allied and often narrated within the brief confines of one sentence. The most conspicuous influ­ ence of an internalized lack on these functions appears in

24 Terence Martin, "Hawthorne's Public Decade and the Values of Hane," AL, 26 (1974), 141-52. Martin maintains that Hawthorne deliberately courts sparse settings in the romances; such a thesis would seem to extend to the distribution of dramatis personae in the tales. - 57 - the form of a journey' which is not physical but mental. In any which manifests a moral change, there is a mental development which m y parallel the physical journey. Robin enters the town in search of his kinsman, but he also enters a world of ambivalence where men may have two faces as well as two voices. Goodman Brown journeys to the woods and to the knowledge of evil; even when he physically returns to the village, his mind remains in the moral depths of the forest. When the narrator of the "legends Fran the Province House" walks from the crowded, ocranercial and residential streets of Boston into the former colonial mansion, he enters a state of mind as well as a building. In same tales, however, the emphasis is almost totally on a mental journey. The Reverend Mr. Hooper enters a world of death and sin quite in contrast to the sunny mood of his congregation merely by placing a veil over his face. In contrast bo the false heroes of "The Great Stone Face" who do leave the valley to achieve an ephemeral, pseudo-heroism as victors in eminence, warfare, and politics, Ernest never ventures from his home as his heroism derives from a mental oamunion with the very soul of the mountain. - 58-

The nature of the villainy or lack affects the activity of the donor and almost determines the essence of the magical agent which is capable of assisting the hero in liquidating the lack. In tales where the lack or villainy is explicitly external and the tone is specifically that of 25 a fairytale, the donor may provide to the responsive hero a miraculous potion or charm as Medea gives to Jason in "Ihe Golden Fleece." If a donor's magical agent is to liqui­ date the lack in narratives where the lack is a moral one, the magical gift certainly must be closer in nature to the spiritual need than a ring would be. Often the donor will provide the hero with knowledge or experience if the deficiency is of the soul rather than of the body. The kind gentleman of "My Kinsman, Major Molineux" offers the shrewd youth more than paternal shelter? in posing the question, "May not a man have several voices, Robin, as well as two complexions?" 26 he offers the hero knowledge of the dual nature of man. In

25 A donor need not be a human character: "In this manner living things, objects, and qualities, from the morphological point of view, must be examined as equivalent qualities" (Propp, p. 82) . 26 The kind gentleman is not the only donor that Robin encounters. his own frenzied manner, Jervayse Helwyse offers Lady Eleanore the knowledge of the effects of her pride. Couples such as Hannah and Matthew in "The Great Carbuncle" lend each other support and love as each beccmes the donor to the other. In stories dealing with both an external and an internal lack, a donor may surface to liquidate one lack and not appear to help the hero liquidate the other. Fairies or elves may help the children enliven the Snow Image, but no donor comes to help balance their father's lack of sympathy for anything other than warm practicality. In tales in which there is no donor the hero has little chance of overcaning the villainy or of fulfilling his need. The donor cannot provide his magical agent, whether

it be knowledge or experience, unless the hero responds positively to his potential benefactor. In "The Minister's Black Veil," Hooper rejects the advice of all three missions which vainly try to convince him to lift his veil and to cane out of the darkness into which he has descended. In "The Birthmark," Aylmer ignores Aminadab's truth that man consists of fallen flesh as well as aethereal spirit. In "The Shaker Bridal," M a m spurns the human love offered by - 60-

Martha to achieve his pyrrhic triumph as head of the

Shaker oamunity. Thus, the liquidation of a lack, whether it be external or internal, often hinges upon the activity of the donor— in fact so much so that it provides a basis far organizing the narrative patterns of the tales. Within the structure of Hawthorne's tales, the paradigms which define the initial misfortunes are essentially two: Man's dual nature and the relationship of individual to system; therefore, since all heroes confront villainies or lacks, the heroes of the tales examined in this Study face one of two similar trials. Despite the fact that the protagonists encounter similar villainies, not all heroes are successful in liquidating the misfortune or lack engendered by each move. Since the donor and the hero's reaction to him are so vital in determining success or failure, the following schema suggests itself for viewing the moves of each tale: 1) lack-liquidated in which there is a positive response to a donor; 2) lack-liquidated in which there is no donor, a rather anall, special category; 3) lack-not liquidated in which there is a negative response -61- to the donor; 4) lack-not liquidated in which no donor functions. An individual tale may contain two (or possibly more) moves, one of which may be in one category while the other belongs to another group. Even within the small number of moves and characters,

Hawthorne derives great complexity from this fairy-tale structure so characteristic of his work. CHAPTER 3 Lack Liquidated: Donor and Hero in Concert

The first category is the largest and perhaps the most heterogeneous in the corpus of tales which this study includes. The tales described in this chapter contain moves in which the hero liquidates the initial misfortune through the assistance of a magical agent provided by the donor. Within this large and diverse grouping there are four sub-groups. The movement from lack to a liquidation of this lack is manifest in the first group of tales which comprise this chapter? however, many of the tales exhibit two moves, one of which results in liquidation while the other leaves a misfortune unchecked. Such tales are analysed in the second group of tales and will be cited in subsequent chapters concerning a lack which is not arrested. Perhaps the most striking example of such a tale is "The Birthmark" in which Aylmer eradicates his wife's blemish through positive interaction with his donor, science; yet the scientist does not succeed in fulfilling his need for an understanding of human nature. In the third group of tales, hero and donor interact to relieve an initial misfortune, but the cost

-62- -63- of such success is high in terras psychological and physical suffering. In "The Gentle Boy" the Puritans' initial persecution of the Quakers mellows into acceptance and the Quaker's initial fanaticism, as represented by Catharine-,, lessens so that by the end of the tale Christians can at least live together in seme form of harmony. In the process of liquidating the terrestial strife of Christians, however, the angelic spirit of I Ibrahim is driven both physically and psychologically out of the earth. Catharine subjects herself to a masochistic lust for persecution and Tobias Pearson becomes a man of sorrows. The toll that Reuben Bourne must pay to expiate his guilt in "Roger Malvin's Buirial" is the life of his son. The character who pays the highest price for the elimination of a need is Young Goodman Brown who not only liquidates a lack but does it so thoroughly that he becomes his own villain. In the last group of tales the suffering is not nearly so intense, nor is the liquidation of the lack. In "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," Robin is offered a chance to rise in the world and to learn of man's dual nature. In "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment," the water from the Fountain of Youth produces a temporary rejuvenation to the doctor's four friends, although these four reject the knowledge which the doctor is offering them. — 64 “

GROUP ONE 1 "The Wives of the Dead" "The Wives o£ the Dead" depicts the union of opposites in love which constitutes the couple in which each member functions as the donor to the other* This couple is rather unique for it does not aonsist of a man and a wcraan but rather of two women who have married brothers. They share the household with both having equal rights to the parlor and with each having privileges to one of the two bedrooms. Mary is the one of "mild, quiet, yet not 2 feeble' character" (p.599) who has married the sailor and Margaret is the one of "lively and irritable temperament" (p. 599) who has married the landsman. Both have heonme widows sharing an equal grief: "United, as they had been, by the relationship of the

living, and now more closely so by that of the dead, each felt as if whatever consolation her grief admitted were to be found in the bosom of the other. They joined their hearts, and wept together silently" (pp.598-99). Married in grief, neither will waken the other when notified of her husband's good fortune. If only a drean, the dream stresses the loving union of each of the women

1 The arrangement of tales in each chapter and in each group is aocording to earliest publishing date. 2 Etar the text to which the parenthetical page citations refer see the Appendix. -65-

for the other: "Margaret shrinks from disturbing her sister-in-law

and felt as if her own better fortune had rendered her involuntarily unfaithful, and as if altered and diminished affection must be the

consequence of the disclosure she had to make" (p. 603); "But then

she [i.e. Mary] remembered that Margaret would awake to thoughts of death and woe, rendered not the bitter by their contrast with her own felicity" (p.605). I. Absentation The two brothers have left the household. Villa. Lack The tangible lack is the loss of the husbands; the intangible lack is the loss of human companionship and love.

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident "They were the recent brides of two brothers, a sailor and a landsman, and two successive days had brought tidings of the death of each, by the chances of Canadian warfare and the tempestuous

Atlantic" (p.598). X. Beginning Counteraction The two women resolve to help each other: "United, as they had been, by the relationship of the living, and now more closely so by that of the dead, each felt as if whatever consolation her grief admitted were joined their hearts, and wept together silently" (pp.598-99). -66-

Because the counteraction does not concern embarking on a quest but rather redirecting emotional energy, there is no physical journey. XII. The First Function of the Donor Mary calls upon her sister to pray for what Providence provides: "Arise, I pray you, and let us ask a blessing on that which is provided for us" (p. 599). Mary is thereby assuming the lead in forming a new household. XIII. The Hero's Reaction Margaret's action is at first negative "There is no blessing left for me, neither will I ask for it!" (p.599); but quickly she reverses her prior response: "Yet she trembled at these rebellious expressions, almost as soon as they were uttered, and, by degrees, Mary succeeded in bringing her sisters' mind nearer to the situation of her own" (p.599). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The two women have achieved some measure of emotional stability— at least enough to sleep. Sleep provides a dream-like state which has its own restorative powers. Notification Goodman Parker informs Margaret that her husband has escaped death— or so she dreams. -67-

XIX. Lack-Liquidated The tangible lack, Margaret's husband, appears to have been liquidated according to Goodman Parker's news and in her sleep, at least, this lack remains liquidated. The intangible need, the loss of human love, is fulfilled by Margaret's decision not to break the bands uniting her to Mary:

’"Poor Mary!' said she to herself. 'Shall I waken her, to feel her sorrow sharpened by ny happiness? No; I will keep it within my own boscm till the morrow'" (p.602). By not describing the morning after, the tale stresses Margaret's affection for Mary. Notification Stephen brings news to Mary: "Why, it was your husband himself,' continued the generous seaman. 'He and three others saved themselves on a spar, when the Blessing turned bottom upwards'" (p.605). XIX. Lack-Liquidated As in Margaret's case, Mary seems to be alleviated of her tangible lack. Like Margaret, Mary decides not to break her union with her sister: "But she remembered that Margaret would awake to thoughts of death and woe, rendered not the less bitter by their contrast with her own felicity" (p.605). When the two awaken from their dreams, the magical agency of sleep will no longer promise husbands, but they can still provide each other with a shared love. -68-

"The Canterbury Pilgrims" The two worlds that meet in "The Canterbury Pilgrims" are the cold, passionless security of the Shaker settlement and the potentially warm, passionate but insecure outside world. Josiah and Miriam have experienced the warmth of love and feel that they must journey to the outside world while the poet, merchant, and countryman have either lost love or never had it. In their isolated insecurity, they feel they have no choice but to seek the frigid safety of a Shaker retreat. But Miriam and

Josiah join in love to seek the outside world. Two pilgrims from the outside world, the poet and the merchant, have never experienced true passion for they have been too concerned with themselves. The poet is a parody of the alienated artist: "The reader must understand that, for all these bitter words, he was a kind, gentle, harmless, poor fellow enough, whom Nature, tossing her ingredients together without looking at her recipe, had sent into the world with too much of one sort of brain, and hardly any of another" (p.523). The poet seans to be so absorbed the "celestial soul of thought" (p. 522) that he has forgotten his material body. But he has not forgotten the ungrateful world. At the Shaker spring he ccnposes his "Farewell to his Harp," later published with two or three other pieces, - 69- subsequeatly written, in the New Hamphire Patriot. Josiah notes that there is a likeness between the verse-maker and the merchant, "though I can't justly say where it lies" (p.526). Perhaps the similarity between the two lies in their ego. Just as the poets' chief claim to glory rests on the ungratefulness of the world so does the fame of the merchant find its climax in failure: "'Not heard of my failure!' exclaimed the merchant considerably piqued. 'Why it was spoken of on 'Change in London, and from Boston to

New Orleans men trembled in their shoes'11 (p.526). Unlike the poet and the merchant, the yeanan and his wife begin their life in passion, but like the two ego-centered men, the couple soon splits into isolated selves: "Though irty husband told you some of our troubles, he didn't mention the greatest, and that which makes all the rest so hard to bear. If you and your sweetheart marry, you'll be kind and pleasant to each other for a year or two, and while that's the case, you never will repent; but by and by, he'll grow gloomy, rough, and hard to please, and you'll be peevish, and full of little angry fits and apt to be ocnplaining by the fireside, when he comes to rest himself from his troubles out of doors; so your love will wear away by little and little, and leave you miserable at last" {p.529). Despite the advice of the poet, merchant and yeoman, Josiah and Miriam pledge to love one another. The other pilgrims move on to a oold and passionless secruity, "as in that other refuge of the world's weary outcasts, the grave" (p.530). - 70 -

Initial Situation. The narrator describes the summer moon, the artistry of the fountain, the purity of the water. Were it not far "sanething too warm and lifelike in them" (p.519) the narrator would have thought that the two were ghosts. Aside fran the warmth of the lovers, this opening soene stresses the moonlight substance of a shadowy reality, appropriate for the threshold between two worlds.

VIII. Lack The Shaker settlement lades the passion in which Josiah and Miriam have found each other, yet this love is as yet a naive one.

IX. Meditation, the Connective Incident

Josiah and Miriam function as their own dispatchers, in pledging to leave the Shaker oennunity.

X. Beginning Counteraction "Miriam and I have a gift to love each other, and we are going anong the world's people, to live after their fashion" (p.520). 3 ’ ■ XI.* Departure The couple have not yet left home, but are on. the threshold of leaving the settlement.

3 An asterisk after the Honan numeral designation of a function means that the function is significantly different fran the one outlined by Propp. For example, instead of XIX, Lack Liquidated, XIX* may indicate Lack (Mot) Liquidated. - 71 -

XII. The First Function of a Donor As spokesman for the group, the poet attempts to dissuade the couple from their entry into the world: "But sit you here awhile, and when you have heard what we shall tell you of the world which we have left and into which you are going, perhaps you will turn back with us of your own accord" (p.521).

1. The poet proclaims his tale of woe. 2. The merchant speaks of past glories and present failure.

3. The yecroan and his wife tell of their past love and present misery.

XIII. The Hero's Reaction "This siiqple story [of the yeoman] had a strong effect on the young fugitives. The misfortunes of the poet and merchant had won little sympathy fran their plain good sense and unworldly feelings, qualities which made them such unprejudiced and inflexible judges that few men would have chosen to take the opinion of this youth and maiden as to the wisdan or folly of their pursuits" (p. 528).

XIV. Provision or Receipt of Magical Agent The innocent people gain a vicarious experience of evil:

"The varied narratives of the strangers had arranged themselves into a parable; they seaned not merely instances of woeful fate that had befallen others, but shadowy anens of dissappointed hope and unavailing toil, domestic grief and estranged affection, that would cloud the onward path of these poor fugitives" (p.530). -72-

XIX. Lack Liquidated Unwittingly, the poet, merchant, yeanan and wife have united the couple more closely in love: "The lovers drank at the Shaker spring, and then, with chastened hopes, but more confiding affections, went on to mingle in an untried life" (p. 530). This ending reflects the movement from the couple's innocent and naive love to a more mature love chastened through the vicarious experience of evil. As the couple departs to mingle in an untried life, the tone of the passage recalls the ending of another tale moving from innocence to experience, Paradise Lost: The World was all before the, where to choose

Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide: They liand in hand with want'ring steps and slow Through Eden took thir solitary way (XII.p. 646-49). "Mr. Higginbotham's Catastrophe"

The only factors impeding the victorious climax of Dcminicus Pike's inquisitive and gossipy nature are facts. In the end, however, tlie facts vindicate the tobaoco-peddler' s tale and even prove him to be the hero of the story. Dcminicus Pike, the raoonteur-artist, the man of imagination, emerges triumphant over the factual skepticism of the fanner and lowyer, men of empirical reason. Once the tobacco peddler's appetite for news is satisfied by tie sketchy account of Mr. Higginbotham's murder, he quickly explains -73- txie apparent inconsistency and elaborates the narrative: "The difficulty was solved by supposing that the narrator had made a mistake of one day in the date of the occurrence; so that our friend did not hesitate to introduce the story at every tavern and country store along the road, expending a whole bunch of Spanish wrappers among at least twenty horrified audiences. He found himself invariably the first bearer of the intelligence, and was so pestered with questions that lie could not avoid filling up the outline, till it became quite a respectable narrative" (p. 129). Despite the success of a tale that has grown fran a few sentences to a half-hour narrative, one person out of twenty dismisses Pike’s imaginative recounting and demands the factuality of an affidavit. Imagination must yield to fact. The raconteur leaves the inn early in the morning, furtively fleeing fran the scene of his defeat. But a second messenger provides a stimulus for his mind and Dominicus Pike cautiously injects his news in Parker's Falls until, assured of success, he mounts the town punp in triumph. But his reign is short­ lived. Fact again intervenes in the persons of M r. Higginbotham’s lawyer and niece and the former hero becomes the scape-goat king as lie is driven fran town with the discharge of mud-balls. Although the tcwn itself, especially the Parker's Falls Gazette, had participated in Pike's flight of imagination, only the king receives the ritual punishment. Yet even in the seeming victory of fact, imagination -74- ultimately wins out: "Being a funny rogue, his heart soon cheered up; nor could he refrain fran a hearty laugh at the uproar which his story excited. The handbills of the selectmen would cause the carmitment of all the vagabonds in the State; the paragraph in the Parker's Falls Gazette would be reprinted fran Maine to Florida, and * perhaps fran an item in the London newspapers; and many a miser would f tremble for his money bags and life, on learning the catastrophe of Mr. Higginbotham" (p. 138). Finally fact joins with imagination, as the tobacco peddler beoones "a champion, blindly obeying the call of fate, like the heroes of old romance" (p. 142) and even succeeds to a throne (a large tobacco manufactory) and a princess (Mrs. Higginbotham's: niece). In the formal pattern of the tale, complexity derives fran a trebling of moves. VIII. Lack Daninicus Pike is in need of a stimulant to release his imaginative powers as a raconteur: "Moreover, as will be seen in the course of the story, the pedlar was inquisitive, and sanething of a tattler, always itching to hear the news and anxious to tell it again'

(p.127). XI. Departure The itinerant peddler is always on the move.

XII. The First Function of the Donor. -75-

XIII. The Hero’s Reaction The tobacco peddler meets a traveler on the road and asks for sane news. XIV. Provision or Receipt of Magical Agent The traveler tells Pike of the murder of Mr. Higginbotham. XIX. Lack-Liquidated The raconteur has the stimulus on which he can develop his tale: "The difficulty was solved by supposing that the narrator had made a mistake of one day in the date of the occurrence; so that our friend did not hesitate to introduce the story at every tavern and country store along the road, expending a whole bunch of Spanish wrappers among at least twenty horrified audiences" (p.129). XXIII. Simple Arrival The peddler puts up at a tavern five miles short of Parker's Falls. XXIV. Unfounded claims

The claims of fact are by no means unfounded but, by demanding an affidavit from Pike, obstruct the hero's claim to glory. The farmer is, thus, functioning as a false hero. VIII. Lack The farmer so deflates Pike's narrative that the raconteur- salesman is in almost the same situation as when the tale began. XI. Departure Pike leaves the inn early. -76-

XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction Pike asks another traveler for news. XEV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The traveler provides more news of Mr. Higginbotham's murder: "No! No! There was no colored man! It was an Irishman that hanged him last night at eight o'clock" (p.132). XIX. Lack Liquidated Cautiously Dcmincus Pike introduces his tale to the populace of Parker's Falls through a hostler; the tale is an immediate success and quickly expanded upon, especially in the Gazette where headlines, detailed accounts, and even a seventeen stanza ballad celebrate the murder. XXXI.* Ascent to Throne Dcminicus Pike mounts the town pump to become "the great man of the moment" (P. 134); however, his action is premature and does not constitute a real fruition. XXIV. Unfounded Claims The lawyer and Miss Higginbotham produce their evidence. XXX.* The Villain Is Punished Because the townspeople have accepted the factual account of the false heroes, Dcminicus Pike is driven from town with mudballs, escaping more serious punishment only through the intercession of Miss Higginbotham (XXX negative, Magnanimous Pardon). The sequence of - 77- functions in this second move is somewhat juggled - perhaps because it is a negative reflection of the third move in which Dcminicus pike does ascend the throne.

VIII. Lack Dcminicus Pike's imaginative tale is again deflated by facts; at least he has the consolation of the commitment to print by the

4 Parker's Falls Gazette. X. Beginning Counteraction "Dcminicus was now on the Kimballton turnpike, having all along determined to visit that place, though business had drawn him out of the most direct road from Morristown" (p. 138) •

Notification Through inquiry on the road, Dcminicus learns that many of the details, furnished by the two travelers he met an the road, correspond to the facts. The toll gatherer tells him of Mr. Higginbotham's ghost­ like or munxny-like complexion. XVI. Struggle XVIII. Victory "Pertain it is, however, that he rushed forward, prostrated a sturdy Irishman with the butt end of his whip, and found - not indeed handing on the St. Michael's pear tree, but trembling beneath it, with a halter around his neck - the old, identical Mr. Higginbotham!" (p.141). XIX. Lack Liquidated Dcminicus Pike's imagination is vindicated; he is a champion

"like the heroes of old romance" (p.142}. XXX. Wedding and Ascent to Throne Dcminicus weds Mr. Higginbotham's niece and then becomes the head of a large tobacco manufactory. "Alice Doane's Appeal"

"Alice Doane's Appeal" consists of two tales: Leonard Doane's encounter with good and evil and the narrator's encounter with an

audience complacently indifferent to the mystery of iniquity. In the tcile proper, the antipodes of good and evil, represented by Alice, his sister, and Walter, his brother, clash within the character of Leonard Doane while, in the prologue and epilogue to the tale, the narrator attempts to convey his knowledge of sin to an initially apathetic

audience. The surfacing of evil in Ieonard Doane is first manifest in his unconscious incestuous desire for his sister. In his "diseased imagination and morbid feelings" (p.284), he experiences a jealousy for his sister's affection which seems to entail more than brotherly concernV "The young man spoke of tiie tie which united him and Alice, the consecrated fervor of their affection from childhood upwards, their

sense of lonely sufficiency to each other, because they only of their race had escaped death in a night attack by the Indians. He related his -79- discovery or suspicion of a secret sympathy between his sister and Walter Brcme, and told how a disturbing jealousy had maddened him" (p.284). The appearance of Walter Brcme, the unknown twin, may indicate the metaphorical surfacing of these incestuous inclinations. The twins are "like joint possessors of an individual nature'' (p. 286) with Walter differing fran his counterpart only be reasons of his European, urban education and of his less disciplined nature. The two are so close that in the wizard’s puppet-like manipulation of Walter, the twin appears to be the very incarnation of Leonard's evil impulses. In murdering his brother and in futilely attempting to conceal the corpse, Leonard tries to suppress his emerging knowledge of evil - a knowledge which, according to Brcme's allegations, touches even Alice. As brother and sister approach the graveyard at midnight, evil seems to be universal as the ghosts of all the dead townsfolk assume a demonic guise. But the dance-macabre does not represent the universality of evil but only a semblance of it as the demons counterfeit the features of the blessed and yearn for a home which they can never enjoy: "At times, the features of those who had passed fran a holy life to heaven v.ould vary to and fro, between their assumed aspect and the fiendish lineaments whence they had been transformed. The whole miserable multitude, both sinful souls and the false spectres of good men, groaned horribly and gnashed -80- their teeth/ as they looked upward to the calm loveliness of the midnight sky, and beheld those homes of bliss where they must now dwell" (p. 291) • But the knowledge of evil also involves a knowledge of good which assumes its proper ascendancy "as from the sinless presence of an angel" (p.292) the demons flee from the vindicated Alice. The tie binding Leonard Doane to both an evil twin and an angelic sister manifests the paradoxical union of good and evil in man. Man may not always be aware of the two forces constituting his nature and in the narrator's ocmnunity people are prone to disregard the evil within man. The narrator's sense of history has infused him with the sense of evil. He frequents Gallows Hill and, unlike the good people of Essex, recollects a past of shadowy deeds: "For my own part, I have often courted the historic influence of the spot. But it is singular how few ocrae on pilgrimage to the famous hill? how many spend their lives almost at its base, and never once - obey the sutmons of a shadowy past, as it beckons than to the swmit" (p.280). The narrator's two companions on his walk to the scene of sin and guilt"... could but imperfectly overcome the gayety of girlish spirits" (p.281) • Indeed the entire atmosphere is singularly inappropriate for a Gothic tale of sin. The narrator and his associates take a stroll to the top of a hill during a pleasant day in June and -81- survey a scene of apparent peace and prosperity: "There are few such prospects of town and village, woodland and cultivated field, steeples and country seats, as we beheld from this unhappy spot. No blight had fallen an old Essex; all was prosperity and riches, healthfully 4 distributed" (p.281). In order to counter this sunlit world, the narrator attempts to depict a scene of midnight over a frozen land where imagination and not enpirical reason reigns: "By this fantastic piece of description, and more in the same style, I intended to threw a ghostly glimmer round the reader, so that his imagination might view the town through a medium that should take off its every day aspect, and make it a proper theatre for so wild a scene as the final one" {pp.288-89). But the narrator is only partially successful in conveying this sense of past sins; after a moment, his audience

"...began to laugh, while the breeze took a livelier motion, as if responsive to their mirth" (p.292). In order to instil this historical sense of evil, he must recall hoary antiquity with a catalogue of evil and is finally successful as his companions clutch him for support, even wishing to build a monument on Gallows Hill. They have vicariously felt the evil which Leonard Doan experienced.

4 ' For a fuller discussion of the contrast between sun and moon figures and characteristics see Hugo McPherson, Hawthorne as Myth-Maker: A Study in Imagination, University of Toronto Department of English Studies and Texts, No. 16 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1969, pp.213-44. - 82 -

I. Absentation Ble Doanes's parents are killed in an Indian raid, thus separating Leonard and Alioe from their parents (death is an intensified form of absentation) and from Walter, the brother who tempts "...his unknown sister to guilt and shame and himself perish by the hand of his twin brother" (pp.291-92) •

II • Interdiction The interdiction against incest is an implicit one in the tale.

III. Violation The sexual jealousy arising from Leonard Doane's "diseased imagination and morbid feelings" (p.284) is a violation of the taboo against incest? "Ihe young man spoke of the closeness of the tie which united him and Alice, the oansecrated fervor of their affection from childhood upwards, their sense of lonely sufficiency to each other, because they only of their race had escaped death, in a night attack by the Indians. He related his discovery or suspicion of a secret sympathy between his sister and Walter Brcme, and told how a distempered jealousy had maddened him" (p.284). Once the implicit interdiction against incestuous wishes is violated, the villain appears as Walter Brcme, the very counterpart of Leonard. With a European education and a reckless life, Walter is the moral opposite of his twin: "His education, indeed, in the cities of the old world, and mine in this rude wilderness, had wrought a superficial difference. -83- The evil of his character, also, had been strengthened and rendered prominent by a reckless and ungoverned life, while mine had been softened and purified by the gentle and holy nature of Alice" (p.285) • The two men are "like joint possessors of an individual nature" (p.286).

VI. Trickery Walter Brcme woos Alice Doane in order to tampt her: "in the course of the tale, the reader had been permitted to discover that a n the incidents were results of the machniations of the wizard, who h a d cunningly devised that Walter Brcme should tanpt his unknown

sister to guilt and shaoe, and himself perish by the hand of his twin brother" (pp.291-92). The real villain is, thus, the wizard. VII. Complicity Alice ".. .also had betrayed an indefinable, but powerful interest in the unknown youth" (p.286). VIII. Villainy Leonard Doane is unable to cope with the evileof his counterpart

Walter Braae and, thus, like Alice becom es involved in the wizard's machinations by killing his counterpart Walter. In vainly attempting to bury his twin brother in the lake, Leonard is trying to submerge the evil in himself - not only the murder but also his incestuous desires - but just as he cannot penetrate the frozen surface so he cannot repress the evil in himself. With Brcme's allegations of Alice's -84- guilt, Leonard may feel that the emerging evil in himself is all- encanpassing (perhaps like Young Goodman Brown). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Who dispatches Leonard and Alice to the graveyard in order to clear Alice of wrongdoing is unclear.

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure "Amid this unearthly show, the wretched brother and sister were represented as setting forth, at midnight, through the gleaming streets, and directing their steps to a graveyard where all the dead had been laid, fran the first corpse in that ancient town, to the murdered man who was buried three days before" (p.289). XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated The narrator hastens his tale to a conclusion and focuses these four sentences into a single sentence. The spectre of Walter Brane functions as a donor, responding to the plea of the heroine with the knowledge (the magical agent) that Alice is free of sin; following this announcement the evil disappears: "The story concluded with the Appeal of Alice to the spectre of Walter Brane; his reply, absolving her fran every stain; and the trembling aeae with which ghost and devil fled, as fran the sinless presence of an angel" (p.292). Leonard's vision of evil which would leave him in the total darkness of despair is counterbalanced by the knowledge of his sister's angelic nature. The hasty ending, however, leaves Leonard's final state of mind unclear. In the prologue and epilogue to the narrative of "Alice Doane's

Appeal," the narrator is the hero of his own story.

Villa. Lack The people of Essex lack a knowledge of history which would give than a sense of sin. The townspeople ignore the significance of Gallows Hill in the complacency of their cwn prosperity: "But it is singular how few cane on pilgrimage to this famous hill; how many spend their lives almost at its base, and never once obey the simraons of the shadowy past, as it beckons them to the sunmit" (p.290). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction

XI. Departure The narrator functions as his own dispatcher and leads his companions up the hill. XII. The First Function of the Donor 1. The tale of "Alice Doane's Appeal" functions as a potential donor to the young Ifriiea in that it offers a knowledge of evil. -86-

2. After the negative response to the tale, the narrator again attempts to offer his audience a vicarious experience of evil: "I strove to realize and faintly communicate the deep, unutterable loathing and horror, the indignation, the affrighted wander, that wrinkled on every brow, and filled the universal heart" (p. 293).

XIII. The Hero's Response 1. The ladies do not respond to the tale as anticipated: "I kept an awful solemnity of visage, being indeed a little piqued that a narrative which had good authority in our ancient superstitions, and would have brought even a church deacon to Gallows Hill, in old witch times, should now be considered too grotesque and extravagant for timid maids to tremble at" (p. 292). 2. The women respond positively the second account: "But here my companions seized an arm on each side; their nerves were trembling; and, sweeter victory still, I had reached the seldom trodden places of their hearts, and found the well-spring of their tears" (p. 294). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated The positive response to the donor grants the women seme experience of sorrow. XX Return The three return to Essex from the hill. -87-

"The (k ra y Chanpion" certainly the most conspicuous conflict in "The Gray Champion" centers on the opposition between Stuart tyranny and Puritan democracy. Perhaps the outstanding sin of the aristocrats is their sumptuous attire and haughty mien whidi separates than from the people whan they are supposed to govern: "On one side, the religious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire, and an the other, the group of despotic rulers with the high churchman in the midst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosons, all magnificently clad, flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing at the universal groan” (p.26). Although the representatives of despotian use the cross as an article of dress, they are far ranoved from the religious multitude’s dark attire. The high churchman, "riding haughtily among the magistrates in his priestly vertments" (p. 25), is unlike the Puritan ministers who do not ride above but walk with their people. If less haughty then his episcopal counterpart. Governor Andros is little less removed from the people whan he purports to govern. His deportment "elderly, but erect and soldier-like" (p.25) seems aloof when compared to the Puritan, ex-Govemor Bradstreet: "While this cry was at the loudest, the people were surprised by the well-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself, a patriarch of nearly ninety, who appeared at the elevated steps of a door, and, with characteristic mildness, besought than to submit to the constituted authorities" (p.24) • -88- The contrasts between the aloofness of the royal authorities with the integration of the Puritan leaders with their people reveals that the rmwdinai sin of aristocratic rule is the separation of the governors from the governed, thereby divorcing men from their natural human sympathy.

VIII. Villainy "James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous, had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh and unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our religion*1 (p.21). The iirmediate villainy is the staging of a military parade.

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident The drum-beat announces the villainy: "The roll of drums at that unquiet crisis seemed to go through the streets, less as the martial music of the soldiers, than as a muster call to the inhabitants themselves" (p.22). X. Beginning Counteraction The Puritans make a stand, expressing an opposition that has not yet been shaped into a specific action: ''Indeed, it was not yet time for the old spirit to be extinct; since there were men in the street that day who had worshipped there beneath the trees, before a house was reared to the God for whom they had become exiles" (p.23). -89-

XII. The First Function of the Donor 1. The Puritan ministers offer the people their leadership: "These holy men exerted their influence to quiet the people, but not to disperse them" (p. 23) . 2. Ex-Governor Bradstreet also offers the people leadership: ’"My children,' concluded the venerable person, 'do nothing rashly. Cry not aloud, but pray for the welfare of New England, and expect patiently what the Lord will do in this m a t t e r ! ( p . 24). 3. The Gray Champion emerges to give definite shape to Puritan resistance: "Suddenly, there was seen the figure of an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged fran the people, and was walking by himself along the center of the street to confront the armed band" (p.26).

XIII. The Hero's Reaction To the ccmnand of the Gray Chanpion "Stand" (p. 28) , the people respond: "They raised a shout of awe and exultation, and looked for the deliverance of New England" (p. 28).

Notification The Gray Chanpion announces that there is no longer a Popish tyrant on throne. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The Gray Chanpion brings knowledge and the very essence of the Puritan spirit. -90-

XVI. Struggle The confrontation is seen fran the perspective of the royal governor: "Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man, then he cast his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning with that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; and again he fixed his gaze on the aged form, which stood obscurely in an open space, where neither friend no foe had thrust himself" (pp.29-30). XVIII. Victory The retreat of Andros constitutes the immediate victory which presages the victory over the Stuarts and the later "triumph" in King Street, and then at Lexington and Bunker Hill. XIX. Lack Liquidated •— i Liberty merges triumphant

"The Maypole of Merry Mount" Like many of Hawthorne's tales, "The Maypole of Merry Mount" deals with a threshold experience. Edith and Edgar, the Lord and Lady of the May, pass from a single to a married state; the revelry of the Maynole yields to the severity of the Puritan whipping post; and spring 5 becomes winter. Daniel G. Hoffman views the tale as the narrative expression of the midsummer eve's rite in which the innocence of youth,

5 Form and Bable in American Fiction (New York: Oxford University Press, 1961),~pp.126-48. -91- the joy of the Maypole, and the beauty of spring must of necessity end in order to be replaced by harsher realities. In a world in which "Jollity and gloom were contending for an empire” (p. 70), the revelers of Merry Mount seem to be unaware of any threat to their seasonable and even unseasonable mirth: "Midsuomer eve had come, bringing deep verdure to the forest, and roses in her lap, of a more vivid hue than the tender buds of Spring. But May, or her mirthful spirit, dwelt all the year round at Merry Mount, sporting with the Simmer months, and revelling with Auturai, and basking in the glow of Winter's fireside. Through a world of toil and care she flitted with a dreamlike anile, and came hither to find a home among the lightsome hearts of Merry Mount” (p. 70). The world of the men who have beocme "Gothic monsters11 may be merry but it is also insubstantial and dreamlike: "Alas, for the young loversi No sooner had their hearts glowed with real passion than they were sensible of something vague and insubstantial in their former pleasures, and felt a weary presentement of inevitable change. From the moment that they truly loved, they had subjected themselves to earth's doom of care and sorrow, and troubled joy, and had no more a home at Merry Mount" (p. 75). The shower of withering roses which falls fran the maypole as Edith and Edgar feel their love - and the oonoanitant sorrow - on the midsummer's night expresses the inevitable death of spring and of spring-like revetty. The Puritans, especially Endioott, are more than ready to supply the sorrow and woe lacking in Merry Mount. The iron-clad Endicott and his troop of men appear at the end of Midsummer1 s Day, signifying the passage to a more darks one reality of shorter days and of harsher experiences: "Yes, with the setting sun, the last day of mirth had passed from Merry Mount. The ring of gay masquers was disordered and broken; the stag lowered his antlers in dismay; the wolf grew weaker than a lamb; the bells of the morris-dancers tinkled with tremulous affright. The Puritans had played a characteristic part in the Maypole mummeries. Their darksome figures were intermixed with the wild shapes of their foes, and made the scene a picture of the moment, when waking thoughts start up amid the scattered fantasies of a dream" (p. 79). Endicott soon assumes his primacy as he cuts the may-pole down and dispenses punishment. Now Edith and Edgar have their complement of joy and sorrow: "But as their flowery garland was wreathed of the brightest roses that had grown there, so, in the tie that united them, were intertwined all the purest and best of their earthly joys. They went heavenward, supporting each other along the difficult path which it was their lot to tread, and never wasted one regretful thought on the vanities of Merry Mount" (p.84). Villa. Lack The revelry of Merry Mount is unseasonable; even winter means a "frozen sunbeam" (p.77) for the revelers. The joy of the "may-pole" requires tempering before Edith and Edgar can go heavenward. -93-

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Edith and Edgar becane aware of the lack when they experience love: "No sooner had their hearts glowed with real passion than they were sensible of something vague and unsubstantial in their former pleasures and felt a dreary presentiment of inevitable change" (p.75). Becuase Edith and Edgar are passive victim-heroes rather than active seeker heroes, functions X and XI are not present. XII. The First Function of the Donor Endioott, the Puritan leader, assumes the character not so much of an historical personage as of a magician conferring his special gift - knowledge of suffering: "The leader of the hostile party stood in the centre of the circle, while the route of monsters ocwered around him, like evil spirits in the presence of a dread magician" (p.79). The Puritan leader seems to possess the knowledge of life which the couple lades as he almost sighs "for the inevitable blight of early hopes” (p.83) • Certainly the word "blight" recalls the shower of withering roses that fails on the couple and thereby stresses the seasonable nature of the transformation. In contrast to the relative passivity of the heroes, Endioott is a most active donor. He assaults the may-pole, captures the revelers, has the bear shot, and orders Edgar's hair to be cut in true pumpkin-shell fashion. Despite the activity of the donor, it would be a mistake to conclude that Hawthorne is endorsing Puritan severity. -94-

The Spring-like joy passes into winter's sorrow after the passage of Midsummer's Eve and Endioott assists this transition with his own type of magical powers.

XXII. The Hero's Reaction Both Edith and Edgar respond to the donor's offer of punishment by asking that Endicott spare the other one; but the Puritan refuses. In offering to sacrifice himself or herself for the other, the couple manifests a maturity and willingness to suffer in love. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The couple acquires a knowledge of suffering. XIX. Lack Liquidated XXXI. Wedding, Ascent to Throne (Heaven) "They went heavenward, supporting each other along the difficult path which it was their lot to tread, and never wasted one regretful thought on the vanities of Merry Mount"

(p.84).

"The Wedding Knell" As the title implies, "The Wedding Knell" concerns the 6 fusion of two fundamental rites of passage in a single act— a

6 Arnold van Gennep, The Rites of Passage, trans. Monike B. Vizedcm and Gabrielle L. Caffee (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1960). -95- threshold experience which signifies the death of Time's vain hopes and the inauguration of Eternity's truth. The time-bound lives of both Mr. Ellenwood and Mrs. Dabney are fruitless, the only difference being that the bride­ groom's is iranifestly so while the bride has gilded over her essential emptiness with the vanity of philosophical equanimity and a most unphilosophical preoccupation with staying ycung.

Mr. Ellenwood is a man of sixty-five who has meandered through life without direction: "His caprices had their origin-in a mind that lacked the support of an engrossing purpose, and in feeling that preyed upon themselves for want of other food" (p. 42). He is an anomaly among men— a man whose life is conspicuously vacuous. In contrast to such open aimlessness is the apparently eventful life of the worldly Mrs. Dabney who in all probability had taken "no inactive part" (p. 43) in arranging the marriage between herself and the eccentric, unworldly Mr. Ellenwood. Yet she gains her expertise in worldly particulars at the expense of her true feelings: "It would have been singular, if any unocnmon delicacy of feeling had survived through such a life as Mrs. Dabneys; it could not but be crushed and killed by her early disappointment, the cold duty of her first marriage, the dislocation of the heart's principles, consequent on a second union, and the unkindness of her -96- southern husband, which had inevitably driven her to connect the idea of his death with that of her comfort” (p.42). Even her supposedly philosophical equanimity cannot cope with the passage of time as she surrounds her third and final nuptial with a crowd of young followers and a bridal dress which displays her vain attempts to conquer time: "But by what perversity of taste had the artist represented his principal figure as so wrinkled and decayed, while yet he had decked her out in the brightest splendor of attire, as if the loveliest maiden had suddenly withered into age, and become a moral to the beautiful around her" (p.45). Like the "abortive life" (p.42) of her future spouse she is unable to conquer death through a vicarious life in children. All she has left is the splendid bunch of flowers who acccmpany her to the church. The funeral knell denotes the end of time and the beginning of eternity. Through it and the appearance of the bridegroom's funeral party, Mrs. Dabney abandons her foredoomed engagenent with youth: 11 'Yes!' cried she. 'Let us wed, even at the door of the sepulchre! My life is gone in vanity and emptiness. But at its close there is one true feeling. It has made me what I was in youth; it makes me worthy of you. Time is no more for both of us. Let us wed for Eternity!1,1 (p.50) . Finally confronting the fact of death, she joins her life with the formerly purposeless -97- existence of a sixty-five year old eccentric so that the marriage is not of the time-bound body but of the eternal souls:

"Amid the tears of many, and a swell of exalted sentiment, in those who felt aright, was solemnized the union two immortal souls" (p.51). Thus, the rite of passage ends in a symbolic death to the old life and rebirth in a new one. Villa. Lack (Desire) The apparent lack of Mr. Ellenwood and Mrs. Dabney lies in their separation from each other for forty years: "The marriage might be considered as the result of an early engage­ ment, though there had been two intermediate weddings on the lady's part, and forty years of celibacy on that of the gentle­ man" (p.41); however, the real lack for the groan is a sense of direction and for the brideggenuine human emotions. XX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Perhaps Mrs. Dabney functions as the dispatcher for the apparent lack: "But after forty years, when I have built my tomb, and would not give up the thought of resting there— no, not for such a life as we once pictured— you call me to the altar" (p. 50). Considering the probably not inactive role of the lady in arranging the details of the wedding (p.43), it would not sean inconsistent for the lady to summon her former -98- lcwer; however, the knell and the procession of three mourning couples, most importantly the groom’s speech announces the real lack. X. Beginning Counteraction Mr. Ellenwood heeds the apparent dispatch,""At your simnons I am here" (p.50); but Mrs. Dabney answers the summons of the real dispatcher, her future husband: "’Yes!' cried she. ’let us wed, even at the door of the sepulchre! My life is gone in vanity and emptiness. But at its close there is one true feeling. It has made me what I was in youth; it makes me worthy of you. Time is no more for both of us. Let us wed for Eternity!'" (p. 50). XI. Departure Mrs. Dabney returns to her native city for the nuptials and Mr. Ellenwood goes to the church but the more important journey of the two is the ritual movement from the threshold of the church to the altar. XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Receipt XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent In exchanging the vows of their eternal marriage, each of the two becomes the donor of the other, bestowinggupon the -99- spouse, heavenly love (religion): "But let us join our hands before the altar, as lovers whan adverse circumstances have separated through life, yet who meet again as they are leaving it, and find their earthly affection changed into something holy as religion" (p. 51). XIX. Lack Liquidated XXXX. Wadding Both superficial and real lacks are liquidated: ”... the organ's peal of solemn triumph drowned the Wadding

Knell" (p.51). "Peter Goldthwaite' s Treasure" "Peter Goldthwaite's Treasure" moves from an initial polarization of values to a final reconciliation of than. The tale opens with a confrontation between the isolated, decayed, whimsically speculative Peter Goldthwaite and the prosperous, successful, mundanely practical John Brown and closes with the union of these two men into one household. Peter Goldthwaite seems to be an aggregate of what the ideal businessman should not be. He is gaunt, grizzled, and threadbare in contrast to the "snug rotundity" (p. 428) of his prosperous ex-partner. But his worst business defect lies in the want of a sense which calculates and reasons out a problem before risking any capital on it: "The contrast between him and -100- his former partner may be briefly marked; for John Brown never reckoned upon luck, yet alvrays had it; while Peter made lutek the main condition of his projects, and always missed it” (p.429). Peter Goldthwaite is a man of imagination— or rather of whimsical fancy— engaged in a pursuit which demands rational power of under­ standing: "But, withal, this Peter Goldthwaite, crackbrained simpleton as perhaps he was, might have cut a very brilliant figure in the world, had he onployed his imagination in the airy business of poetry, instead of making it a demon of mischief in mercantile pursuits" (p.431). Peter's fanciful mind is perhaps most operative in his dreams where he envisions the decaying house transformed to a palace of gold and silver (pp.435-36); where in the perpetual youth of his mind he fancies a fairy-tale ending to his quest with a climactic marriage to the fairest maid in town (p.438). In short, the fanciful speculator seems to be a travesty of the Romantic alienated artist, questing for the ultimate speculation. 7 Like many of Hawthorne's characters of imaginative bent,

Peter Goldthwaite is isolated within the confines of his house.

7 Clifford Pyncheon is perhaps the outstanding character of this type, but there are many others; see McPherson, pp.213-44. -101-

He is linked to the house by birth even as he is allied to the old Peter Goldthwaite by the speculative temperroent. The decaying house is part of his fate: "There seemed, indeed, to be a fatality that connected him with his birthplace; for, often

as he had stood on the verge of ruin, and standing there even now, he had not yet taken the step beyond it which would have ocnpelled him to surrender his house to his creditors'' (p.430). Like Clifford Pyncheon in the eleventh chapter of The House of 8 the Seven Gables, the treasure seeker experiences a moment of truth as he looks out on the animated street scene so unlike his own isolated life in the decaying mansion: "His brief glimpse into the street had given him a forcible impression of the manner in which the world kept itself cheerful and prosperous,

by social pleasures and an intercourse of business, while he, in seclusion, was pursuing an object that might possibly be a phantasm, by a method which most people would call madness" (p. 447). But his fated birthright returns him to his house as Peter the Destroyer, "determined as Fate and as diligent as Time" (p.442). Only the heir to the Goldthwaite tradition could engage his

8 In Hawthorne: Critic of Society (New Haven: Yale University Press, i§44), pp. 6G-67,- Lawrence Sargent Hall discusses Clifford*s epiphany in a scene similar to Peter Goldthwaite' s moment of truth. -102- energy in a fateful destruction of his fated birthright. After he has succeeded in virtually destroying the house, he finds the treasure to be built on hopes as fanciful as his own. There are two forces of equilibrium which prevent the Goldthwaite mansion fran crushing the last of its heirs: Tabitha Porter and the former business partner, John Brown. For fifty- five years, Tabitha had been in the employ of the Goldthwaite family and, through all the vicissitudes of speculation, she remains the constant spirit of hearth and heme. Her position next to the kitchen fire is stable and only seldom does she move from her accustomed place. She counters the frenzied activity and dreams of her master with a nonchalance that can view his destruction of the house as a cheap source of firewood. Bnbodying the very spirit of the house, her function as helper and sustainer of her master ends when the house nears collapse. At this point her role is assumed by John Brown who shelters his former partner and Tabitha within his own house. The success­ ful businessman channels his friend's misplaced fancy into capital appropriate for castles in the air, thereby insuring that his fellow householder does not suffer the mundane consequences of speculating with a real fortune. The partnership is restarted. ^ • : ;^:.:-\-i':;:u^.v ":• .:./'V'\ Y-;;< .vor H-;---;':— -. .'V': .:•• . v; Y 'Y -Y ' ;f:S ■'''■ ..' ’ :: f • '■'■■• • ^ 'i 1',.v,riv ;K ■,■■;:• . : 'f- Y- ; '.: v , ';/.! S; :-,v " j?" ^.'r V--'--": V ■■ ’/? Pf t G o l d t h w a i t e envisions his lack asthe 'lost/ treasure of the fanner Peter Goldthwaite; however, his real lack; is a practical balance to M s speculative nature, ihMtha Porter partially alleviates this need as long as the house, with which - she is so intimately allied, remains. In seeking to liquidate the loss of his fortune, however,; her roaster destroys the house.: IX. Mediation, the connective Incident / The visit of M s former business partner reminds Peter of his destitute condition and, thus, unconsciously John Brown functions as a dispatcher; "Here then in M s kitchen, the only room where a spark. of fire took off the chill of a November evening , poor Peter Goldthwaite had just been visited by M s , rich old partner. At the close of their interview, Peter, with a rather mortified look, glanced dowmrards at M s dress, parts of w M c h appeared as ancient as the days of Goldthwaite & Brown" (P.430). * X. . Beginning Counteraction "'Hie time is come!1 said he. 'With such a treasure -104-

at carmand, it were folly to be a poor man any longer. Tomorrow morning I will begin with the garret, nor desist till I have t o m the house down!1" (p.431). He proclaims his intention two more times as he informs Tabitha of his quest (pp. 434-35). Trebling of this function in so grandiose a style is quite appropriate for so dreamy and romantic a hero as Peter Goldthwaite.

XX. Departure "Up, betimes, rose Peter, seized an axe, hammer, and

saw, which he had placed by his bedside, and hied him to the

Ijarret" (p. 436) • XXX. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hem's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated In his journey of destruction, Peter finds a piece of pardtment (p.443) and a key (p.447) which would seem to be the agents needed to provide his fortune; however, the real donor is the charitably moved John Brown who provides a fortune by buying the house and, more importantly, furnished a rational out­ let for his partner's speculative interests: "*Why, as to that,' muttered John Brown to himself, 'we must apply to the next court for a guardian to take care of the solid cash; and, if Peter -105- insists upon speculations, he may do It, to his heart's content with old PETER GOEI/mWAITE'S TREASURE'" (p.454).

"Howe's Masquerade" "Howe's Masquerade" traces the movement a£ the narrator "frcm the busy heart of mo d e m Boston into a small and secluded courtyard" (p. 272), emblematic of the colonial past, and from Washington's (or perhaps Jackson's) democracy to Howe's royal rule. In effecting these transitions, the old gentleman at Thcmas Waite's bar functions as a donor of the sense of the past while in the tale proper the role of Oolonel Joliffe and his daughter is to notify the royal governor of the mcwement towards the democratic future. Try as he may, the narrator cannot rid himself of the actualities of contemporary Boston to enter into the historical reminiscences that he desires. The very presence of Thcmas Waite's tavern obstructs the narrator's musings: "He [Thanas White] readily complied [to give the narrator a tour of the Province

House]; but, to confess the truth, I was forced to draw strenuously upon my imagination, in order to find aught that was interesting in a house which, without its historical associations, would have seemed merely such a tavern as is usually favored by the custom of decent city boarders, and old-fashioned country gentlemen? (p.274). -106-

The host seams to be more concerned with the inconveniences of this edifice for mo de m iimkeeping than with recollecting the past. A bride range of stores and other buildings of recent vintage surround the inn; even pretty tailor esses offer a momentary dis­ traction ffon entering the past* Only an old gentleman, probably a frequenter of Mr. White’s tavern, can convey the narrator hack into history with his legend of Howe's Masquerade. When the raconteur finishes his tale, clouds of cigar smoke and the rattling of a spoon in a whiskey tumbler transport the narrator back to the present. Finally he walks cut of the secluded past of the Province House and into the densest throng of Washington

Street. Unlike the narrator, Sir William Howe has no desire to witness an historical transformation. In fact, he attempts to veil the precariousness of his position with a masquerade:

"... for it was the policy of Sir William Howe to hide the distress and danger of the period, and the desperate aspect of the siege under an ostentation of festivity" (pp.276-77). Like the revelers of Merry Mount, the royalists wear antic costumes and even have a man of God, Reverend Mother Byles ,as participant in the merriment. Again similar to "The Maypole of Merry Mount," a man of st e m Puritan discipline breaks up the festivity. At -107-

first the presence of Colonel Joliffe seems merely inappropriate;

"But thither had he ocme, with a fair granddaughter under his arm; and there, amid all the mirth and buffoonery, stood this s t e m old figure, the best sustained character in the masquerade, because so

well representing the antique spirit of his native land. The other guests affirmed that Colonel Joliffe*s black puritanical

scowl threw a shadow round about him; although in spite of his saribre influence their gayety continued to blaze higher, like— (an aninous comparison)— the flickering brilliancy of a lamp which

has but a little while to bum" (p. 278). The concluding simile depicts the darkening tone which the party assumes as Oolonel t Joliffe*s scowl becomes more than just inappropriate. The Colonel and particularly his daughter become gadflies as they taunt royal hopes and ultimately the prophets of Howe's demon­ strative exit from the seat of royal power. The governor's mask of poise is shaken by their interpretation of five sets of figures representing the past rulers of Massachusetts. The final pro­ cession consists of one figure who quite unnerves Howe: "The sternness of his countenance gave place to a look of wild amaze­

ment, if not horror, while he recoiled several steps fran the figure, and let fall his sword upon the floor” (p.288). The revelry of the party yields to the gloom of the funeral pro- -108- cession of British rule. There are two narratives: that of Bomb's Masquerade and that of the narrator's journey to the past. First I will consider the narrator's story. VTIIa. Lack (Desire) IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure Hie narrator wants to visit the Province House to absorb its history; thus, he functions as his own dispatcher by revealing the desire to himself; he decides on counteraction and departs as he determines to leave the busy streets of Boston for the Province House: "I was glad to be thus raninded of a purpose, long entertained, of visiting and rembling over the mansion of the old royal governors of Massachusetts; and entering the arched passage, which penetrated through the middle of a brick row of shops, a few steps transported me from the busy heart of mo d e m Boston into a small and secluded oourtyard" (p.272). XII. The First Hinction of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Response XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Mr. Waite cannot eradicate the present in his concern -109- for his tavern business, when properly addressed (XIII), the old gentleman at the bar can: "Being of a sociable aspect, I ventured to address him with a remark calculated to draw forth his historical reminiscences, if any such were in his mind; and it gratified me to discover, that, between memory and tradition, the old gentleman was really possessed of some very pleasant gossip about the Province

House" (p.276). XIX. Lack Liquidated

Through the raconteur's tales of "Howe's Masquerade," the narrator obtains a vision of the past.

XX. Return The clouds of cigar snoke and the rattlings of a spoon in a tumbler return the narrator to the present? finally he walks out of the Province House and into the crowded streets of the present. The precise nature of the tale proper remains somewhat obscure. Colonel Joliffe does not seen to be a hero but rather the spokesman for an historical movement.

Villa. Lack Howe has attempted to conceal the danger of the times with a masquerade. Such an effort is a vain attempt to liquidate the misfortune of the royal cause (XlX-negative) and constitutes -110- a lack of knowledge of the historical movement from royal to democratic rule.

Notification XII. The First Function of the Donor Colonel Joliffe's and his granddaughter's explication of the historical movement becomes so strong that it partakes of the donor's nature, conveying a funereal mood to the masquerade.

Whether or not Hcwe accepts the import of the processions or of Joliffe's interpretation of them is unclear.

"Lady Eleanore's Mantle" The relationship of individual to group is a fundamental question which any system of government confronts and attempts to resolve. Obviously the question has found different answers in various historical epochs; major dislocations, both physical and intellectual, mark the transition from one conception of the relationship between individual and group to another. "Lady Eleanore's Mantle" narrates a threshold experience of revolution and conceptualization in colonial America where aristocratic values are being challenged by democratic ones. In the tale. Lady Eleanore's haughty mien, emblemized by her mantle, separates her from her fellow humans and in doing so betrays the inadequacy of aristocracy to account far the sympathies of nature which bind - 111-

all individuals into a common humanity. But the realization of

this failing is not immediate? Jervayse Helwyse, and even the people, can be infatuated by the glory of the nobility. The

transition from aristocracy to democracy demands a re-orientation

of society, conceptually Dr. Clarke, "a famous champion of the popular party” (p.311), poses the alternative of an egalitarian

society to a rigidly hierarchical one. Physically the anall pox epidemic levels all individuals into a common suffering, irrespective of title or rank. Lady Eleanere realizes her inherent failing at the end of the narrative as she confesses to her would be lover, Jervayse Helwyse: "The curse of Heaven hath stricken me, because I would not call man my brother, nor woman sister. 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. You cure avenged— they are all avenged— for I an Eleanore RochcliffeJ" (p. 325). Conscious of the sympathies of nature, Eleanore Rochcliffe conflicts sharply with the unchastened

Lady Eleanore of the beginning of the tale: "... since; with some noble and splended traits of character. Lady Eleanore was remark­ able for a harsh, unyielding pride, a haughty consciousness of her hereditary and personal advantages, which made her almost incapable - 112- of control. Judging from many traditionary anecdotes, this peculiar temper m s hardly less than a monomania." {p.310. During the ball held in her honor, she insulates herself within a circle of four fellow nobles: the Episcopal clergyman, the sycophantic secretary, the Virginia planter, and Captain Langford. Soon, however, the aristocratic isolation of the ball yields to the intrusion of an unexpected visitor— small pox. Despite Lady Eleanore's isolating pride, the people seem to be enamored of "seme noble and splendid traits of character” (p.310) which accompany her arrogance, even so infatuated that they applaud the lady as she steps upon Jervayse Helwyse: "Yet the spectators were so smitten with her beauty, and so essential did pride seen to the existence of such a creature, that they gave a simultaneous acclamation of applause" (p.312). At the ball, the people attempt to reflect same of the glory of the aristocracy in their own attire— an attempt which the narrator notes would be singularly inappropriate in the contemporary state of society: "The latter article of dress [i.e. waistcoat] was -113“ of great importance, since it enveloped the wearer's body nearly to the knees, and was perhaps bedizened with the amount of his whole year's income, in golden flowers and foliage. The altered

taste of the present day— a taste symbolic of a deep change in the whole system of society would look upon almost any of those gorgeous figures as ridiculous; although that evening the guests

sought their reflections in the pierglasses, and rejoiced to catch their own glitter amid the glittering crowi" (p.314). Only when the plague strikes do the people realize the sin of pride— in som eone else: "The people raved against the Lady Eleanore, and cried out that her pride and scorn had evoked a fiend, and that, between than both, this monstrous evil had been b o m " (p. 322). Like the people, Jervayse Helwyse is so infatuated with Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe that he allows her to trample upon him; however, unlike the people, he is conscious of the effects of her pride and tries to remedy his lady's haughtiness. At the ball, Jervayse*s apparently insane actions assume a wisdom that Lady Eleanore and her circle cannot appreciate. He offers her a chalice, begging his love to join in a sacramental oomnunion with her fellow creatures: "But, Lady Eleanore, in requital of that harm, if such there be, and for your own earthly and heavenly welfare, I p r a y you to take one sip of this holy wine, and then to -114-

pass the goblet round among the guests. And this shall be a symbol that you have not sought to withdraw yourself frcm the chain of human sympathies— which whoso would shake off must keep company with the fallen angels” (pp.316-17). But Jervayse*s lucidity is only ephemeral. As he returns to see his mistress, he dreams of an aristocrat unpolluted by its own corruption: "The poor lunatic, it seems probable, had cherished a delusion that his haughty mistress sat in state, unharmed herself by the pesti­ lential influence, which, as by enchantment, she scattered round about her. He dreamed, no doubt, that her beauty was not dditmed, but brightened into superhuman splendor. With such anticipations, he stole reverentially to the door at which the physician stood, but paused upon the threshold, gazing fearfully into the gloom of the darkened chamber" (p. 324). But upon recognition of the "Blasted face” (p.325), Jervayse breaks out into an "insane 9 merriment" (p.325) over the destruction of his illusions. In the end, he leads the procession of people, waving the red flag of pestilence. If the recognition of the innate evil of aristocratic

9 Laughter has many functions in Hawthorne. Insane laughter may indicate a moment of recognition. See Robert Dusenbery "Hawthorne's Merry Ocmpany: The Anatomy of Laughter in the Thles and Short Stories," M A , 82 (1967), 285-88. -115-

pride is late coming to lady Eleanore, the people, and Jervayse Helwyse, Doctor Clarke recognizes the villainy of separating oneself from the chain of hunan sympathy from the very opening of the tale. While the crazed lover is humbling himself before

the object of his adoration and while the people are applauding

Lady Eleanore's pride, Doctor Clarke warns of heaven's retribution: "But I tell you, sir, I could well-nigh doubt the justice of the

Heaven above us if no signal huniliation overtake this lady, who now treads so haughtily into yonder mansion. She seeks to place herself above the sympathies of our common nature, which envelopes

all human souls. See, if that nature do not assert its claim over her in some mode that shall bring her level with the lowest!" (p.313). While the people at the ball luxuriate in splendor of dress. Doctor Clarke exercises his professional competency to warn the governor of the danger which the guest of honor presents. At the end, the doctor allows Jervayse to see his beloved almost as if by doing so the champion of the popular party teaches a

lesson in politics: "Wilt thou still worship the destroyer and surround her image with fantasies the more magnificent, the more evil she has wrought? Thus man doth ever to his tyrants.

Approach, then! Madness, as I have noted, has that good efficacy, that it will guard you from contagion— and perhaps its own cure -116- nay be found in yonder chamber" (ppt323-24), Thus, in the narra­ tive Doctor Clarke functions as the ideological spokesman for the cause of democracy. But the physical agent of change is the plague itself j "But the disease, pursuing its onward progress, soon ceased to be exclusively a prerogative of aristocracy. Its red banner was no longer conferred like a noble's star, or an order of knighthood. It threaded its way through the narrow and crooked streets, and entered the low, mean, darksome dwellings, and laid its hand of death upon the artisans and laboring classes of the town. It com­ pelled sick and poor to feel themselves brethem then..." (p.320).

Villas Lack The apparent lack is the "gradual extinction of her family" which makes it necessary for her to accept thej necessity of coming to America. As is evident from the structure, however, the real lack derives from her aristocratic pride. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Governor Shute's wife functions as the dispatcher of Lady Eleanore on her trip to the New World: "The consort of Governor Shute, moreover, had been as a mother to her childhood, and was now anxious to receive her, in the hope that a beautiful young woman would be exposed to infinitely less peril from the primitive society of New England than amid the artifice's and -117- oorruptions of a court" (pp.309-10). As in many other tales where there is both an external and an internal, moral lack (e.g. "My Kinsman, Major Molineux"), this specific function merges with the activity of the donor. XI. Departure Lady Eleanore leaves for America. XII. The First Function of the Donor This function, as well as XIII, is trebled with the first two occurrences eliciting negative responses while the last manifests a more positive response from Lady Eleanore. There is also one other donor which operates not only on Lady Eleanore but also on the people. 1. In the first activity of the donor, Jervayse Helwyse is an unwitting one. Although at the time of his action, he may be unaware of what he is offering his love— an escape frcm her aristocratic aloofness— in the narrator interpretation he does function as an emblen of human sympathy (see the commentary under XIII. 1). Jervayse offers himself to his lady: "A pale young man, with his black hair all in disorder, rushed from the throng, and prostrated himself beside the coach, thus offering his person as a footstool for Lady Eleanore Rochcliffe to tread upon" (p. 312). 2. In Jervayse Helwyse's second activity as a donor, his madness assumes an articulate urgency which seems far saner and more sensible than the pseudo-glory of wearing gold-embroidered -118- waistcoats : "But, Lady Eleanore, in requital of that ham, if such there be, and for your own earthly and heavenly welfare, I pray you to take one sip of this holy wine, and then to pass the goblet round among the guests. And this shall be a symbol that you have not sought to withdraw yourself from the chain of human sympathies— which whoso would shake off mast keep company with fallen angels"

(pp. 316-17). 3. Jervayse visits his love for the third and last time in the tale? however, he has lost the perspipacity of his second visit and becomes again the crazed man who asks the doctor that he be allowed to kneel before the throne of Death and his mistress

(p.323). 4. The plague of anall-pox makes the people realize the danger of pride: "The people raved against the Lady Eleanore, and cried out that her pride and scorn had evoked a fiend, and that between them both, this monstrous evil had been born"

(pp. 321-22) . XIII. The Hero's Reaction 1. Lady Eleanore's reaction to the crazed, but still human, Jervayse Helwyse is most negative: "Then, though as a sunbeam on a cloud, she placed her foot upon the cowering form, and extended her hand to meet that of the Governor. There was -119- a brief interval, during which Lady Eleanore retained this atti­ tude; and never, surely, was there an apter emblem of aristocracy and hereditary pride trampling on human sympathies and the kin­ dred of nature, than these two figures presented at the moment"

(p.312). In applauding the heroine's negative response, the people, other than the doctor, became accomplices in her action. 2. When Jervayse offers the lady the catinunion cup, the Episcopal clergyman is outraged; the governor's secretary sug­ gests that the wine may be poisoned; the Virginia gentleman suggests that it should be poured down his throat; Captain Langford wants the villain turned out of the house. Unlike the more frenzied outbreaks of her fellow aristocrats, Lady Eleanore says merely "Take him out of my sight..." (p.317). 3. Eleanore Rochcliffe is far more humble upon Jervayse's third visit. She at least talks to her insane lover and admits that she was wrapped herself in pride as in a mantle. 4. Lady Eleanore has learned hunility from the equalizer, small-pox. XIV. Provision or Receipt of Magical Agent Eleanore Rochcliffe has at least learned the danger of wrapping oneself in pride as is a mantle. The gift is knowledge of basic human sympathy. -120-

XVII. Branding Hie plague leaves its brand on its victims. XIX. lack Liquidated Hie initial lack of the knowledge of human equality and sympathy seems to have been liquidated: "Hie curse of Heaven hath stricken me, because I would not call man ny brother, nor wcman sister. I wrapped myself in PRIDE as in a MANTLE, and scorned the synpathies of nature; and therefore has nature made this wretched body the mediun of a dreadful synpathy" (p. 325).

Although the people rave against Lady Eleanore's pride and b u m an effigy of her with Jervayse Helwyse leading the procession, it is not ocnpletely clear that the end of their infatuation with tyranny is permanent. "Hie Lily's Quest: An Apologue"

Hie distinction between the eternal happiness of heaven and the time-bound gloom of earthly life could hardly be more explicit than in the moralized fable of "Hie Lily's Quest: An Apologue." Adam Forrester and Lilias Fay search far a suitable location far their benple in which "... there all pure delights were to cluster like roses among the pillars of the edifice, and blossom ever new and spontaneously" (p. 495), but the melancholy shadow of Whiter Gascoigne in sable cloak and sombre hat follows - 121- them, revealing the evil that has polluted each one of the location for the tenple of bliss. In this guest the couple as­ sume that metaphoric qualities of heaven while their ccnpanion is linked to earth: "They!locked as if moulded of heaven's sunshine, and he of earth's gloomiest shade; they flitted along like Hope and Joy roaming hand in hand through life; while his darksome figure stalked behind, a type of all the woful influences which life could fling upon them" (p.496). Lilias Pay has little of the earth’s substantial woe but almost literally as well as figuratively is conposed of heaven's sunshine: "...as the setting sunbeams faded from her figure, she was exhaling away, and that sane thing of her ethereal substance was withdrawn with each lessening gleam of light" (p. 502). Like many other heroines of nineteenth century romance, Lilias Fay is too pure for this sor­ did earth of care and sorrow; thus, her death constitutes not the climax of mortality but the threshold of eternity: "'Joy! joy!1 he cried, throwing his arms toward heaven, 'on a grave be the site of our Temple; and now our happiness if for Eternity I (p. 503). The grave marks the end of the futile quest for a tenple of earthly delights and the fruitful knowledge of heavenly happiness. The very enblem of affliction, Walter Gascoigne, has no choice but to leave. - 122- v i i i . Desire. IX. Mediation. X. Beginning Counteraction. Adam Forrester and Lilias Fay desire a tenple of bliss

and decide to build one. Their naivity and innocence must be tenpered with knowledge of evil: "Two lovers, onoe upon a time, had planned a little sumrer-hcuse, in the form of an antique tenple, which it was their purpose to consecrate to all manner of refined and innocent enjoyments" (p.495). XI. Departure. "So, one breezy and cloudless afternoon, Adam Forrester and Lilias Fay set out upon a ramble over the wide estate which they were to possess together, seeking a proper site for their

Tenple of Heppiness" (p. 495). XII. The First Function of the Donor The sombre figure of Walter Gascoigne functions as a donor as he bequeaths on the couple a knowledge of earthly woe, directing the couple. 1. "Then he told the lovers how, not, indeed, an antique Tenple, but a dwelling, had once stood there, and that a dark-clad guest had dwelt among its inmates, sitting forever at the fire­ side, and poisoning all their household mirth" (p.497). -123-

2. Gascoigne forbids the couple to build a tenple an another location because a young man had murdered a girl here one hundred years ago (pp.498-99). 3. "Hie dismal shape of the old lunatic still glided be­ hind them; and for every spot that looked lovely in their eyes, he had sane legend of human wrong or suffering, so miserably sad

that his auditors could never afterwards connect the idea of joy with the place where it had happened'1 (p.499). 4. Finally Gascoigne reveals an "inscrutable smile.” XIII. ‘Ihe Heroes' Reaction Die couple guide their choice of a site for the tample by Gascoigne's advice. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated Walter Gascoigne confers knowledge of evil upon the couple which pranpts the question: '"Where in this world,' exclaimed M a m Forrester, despondingly, 'shall we build our

Tsnple of Happiness?'" (p.500). Dirough the Shadow of Affliction and Lilias' death, M a m learns of the true Tenple of Bliss: "'Joy joy' he cried, throwing his arms towards heaven, 'on a grave be the site of our Tenple; and new our happiness if for Eternity!'11

(p. 503). "The New M a m and Eve" The opposition between the world's artificial syston and the natural order posited by the narrator in the first sentence 10 of "The New M a m and Eve" finds its narrative expression in the quest of M a m and Eve to gain some insight into their circum­ stances. While on their pursuit of knowledge, they encounter the rennants of a culture which often defined itself by an artifice which sought to prevent man from seeing his natural end with God. In the midst of the city's decay, M a m intuitively recog­ nizes his proper dwelling: "'look up yonder, mine own Eve,' he cries; 'surely we ought to dwell among those gold-tinged clouds or in the blue depths beyond them. I know not how nor when, but evidently we have strayed away frcm our hone; for I see nothing hereabouts that seems to belong to us"1 (p.282). Ma m ' s intui­ tive search for the means to the sky, his proper heme, is inpaired by something which "drags us down in spite of our best efforts" (p.282), but he and Eve continue their attempt to escape from "The marks of wear and tear, and unrenewed decay which distinguish the works of man from the growth of nature" (pp. 281-82). The city itself impedes M a m frcm the sky.

10 "We who are b o m into the world's artificial system can never adequately know how little in cur present state and circumstances is natural, and how much is merely the interpolation of the per­ verted mind and heart of man" (p. 279). -125-

In the journey of A3 am and Eve through the city, the couple examine a dry goods store and a church. In both places, Adam is subject to ambivalent feelings. In the dry goods store, the cloth­ ing seems to complement their natural beauty— perhaps reflecting 11 Hawthorne's reservations about nudity— yet it also endows Eve with a witchery. In the church, the building blocks his view of the sky, but its atmosphere induces him to seek the heavens: ’"Eve, something impels me to look upward,' says Adam; 'but it troubles me to see this roof between us and the sky. Let us go forth and perhaps we shall discern a Great Pace looking down upon us"1 (p.285) . In his quest for knowledge, Adam is gradually obtaining a clearer impression of his natural destiny with God; the church at least provides some stimulus towards this end even if its physical structure blocks ultimate attairment. But if the church provides some sense of the sky, man's legal system obliterates it. As Adam and Eve see the Court of Justice, "the very symbol of man's perverted state” (p.286), the Hall of Legislation, and the prison, it would appear that God's

11 Perhaps the enthusiasm of the new Adam and Eve for clothes anticipates a caiment Hawthorne will make in the Italian Notebooks: "I do not altogether see the necessity of ever sculpturing another nakedness. Man is no longer a naked animal? his clothes are as natural to him as his skin, and sculptors have no mare right to undress him than to flay him" Passages frcm the French and Italian Notebooks in George P. Lathrop, ed., The complete Works of NathanieT Hawthorne (Boston: Houghton-Mifixri,1883), X,~T71. -126- love becomes more and more shadowed by the "stem, gray stone" (p.286) until a gallows obliterates the sky itself, "There seems to be no more sky— no more sunshine!" (p.288). If the public monuments of church and state cloud the sky, private splendor seems to ignore it. In the private mansion on Beacon Street, only the Aeolian harp and the statue of an idealized child reflect natural values. Although the traces of woman's delicacy and refinement— embroidery, pianoforte, broom— hold sane attrac­ tion for Eve, the rest of the house displays a luxury which the natural couple reject. They find little to eat and drink at the lavish dinner party; they stand perplexed in front of the grand portraits, unable to recognize the people within the lavish apparel. After experiencing the obfuscating sickness of the man­ sion, M a m is only all the more resolved to reach the sky: "Per­ haps our allotted task is no other than to climb into the sky, which is so much more beautiful than the earth" (p. 294). M a m and Eve's experience with the concrete emblons of commerce and scholarship, the Exchange and the Harvard University Library, prove more tempting to M a m than to Eve. The man is so taken with the heaps of rubbish and the volumes of times that he momentarily abandons his quest for his true home. Without Eve, M a m would find a pseudo-happiness but with her he is led to his true task: "It would be betrer to sit down quietly and look up­ ward to the sky" (p.296). -127-

Finally, in the memorials dedicated to the dead, do Adam and Eve acquire a sense of their natural destiny. The Bunker Hill Obelisk points skyward as what Adam terms a "visible prayer" (p.297). At the end of the day, the pilgrims reach Mount Auburn and metaphorically, the very idea of death. The monument of a child leads them to God: "Let us sleep as this lovely figure is sleeping. Our Father only knows whether vhat outward things we have possessed today are to be snatched from us forever. But should our earthly life be leaving us with the departing light, we need not doubt that another m o m will find us somewhere be­ neath the smile of God. I feel that he has inparted the boon of existence never to be resumed" (p.302). Initial Situation A new Adam and Eve appear as "The Day of Doom has burst upon the globe and swept away the whole race ofmen" (p. 279).

Villa. Lack The man and wonan are ignorant of where they are and of where they are going. With natural curiousity Adam asks, "Sweetest Eve, where are we?" (p.281). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Adam functions as the dispatcher when he says, "...it were well that we gain some insight into these matters" (p. 281). -128-

X. Beginning Counteraction M a m assumes the hero's role when he says, "Let us

look about us" (p.281), and when he resolves to find a path to the sky, "Perchance we way find a path hereafter" (p.282).

XI. Departure "They now set forth on a rairble through the city, in the hope of making their escape frcm this uncongenial sphere"

(p. 283). XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The activity of the donors is rather complex in this tale for M a m functions as a donor for Eve and Eve reciprocates for Adam as the couple re-enforce each other. As the following example shows, the constant interchange of knowledge and human synpathy serves to bind the two of them together on their guest: 'And now,* observes Adam, 'we must again try to discover what sort of a world this is, and why we are sent hither.' 'Why? to love one another,' cries Eve. 'Is not that employment enough?' 'Truly is it,' answers M a m , kissing her? 'but still— I know not— something tells us there is labor to be done. Perhaps our allotted task is no other than to climb into the sky, which is so much more beautiful than the earth.' -129- 'Then would we were there now,' nurmurs Eve, 'that no task or duty might cane between us I (p.294). The significance of this interchange may become more apparant if we recall the narrator's vision of the masculine and feminine roles. M a m and Eve complement each other: "On as fruitless an errand our wanders next visit a Hall of Legislation, where M a m places Eve in the Speaker's chair, unconscious of the moral which he thus exemplifies. Man's intellect, moderated by Woman's tenderness and moral senseI" {p.286). Thus, the man and woman supply the needs of each with Eve's sense of loving union countering Mam's quest for knowledge.

XVI. Struggle The monuments ot man's artifice serve as temptations to end the quest. In the pursuit of true wisdom, even the books of Harvard Library may pose a threat: "Had he lingered there long enough to obtain a clue to its treasures— as was not impos­ sible, his intellect being of human structure, indeed, hut with an untransmitted vigor and acuteness,— had he then and there becane a student, the annalist of our poor world would soon have recorded the downfall of a second M am" (pp.299-300). Eve prevails upon her husband to resume the quest, "It would be better to sit down quietly and look upward to the sky" (p.296). -130-

XIX. Lack Liquidated At the close of day, the couple readies a knowledge of God as the two find the marble child pointing to heaven: "But should our earthly life be leaving us with the departing light, we need not doubt that another m o m will find us some­ where beneath the smile of God. I feel that he has inparted the boon of existence never to be resumed" (p. 302). "Hie Antique Ring” "The Antique Ring" displays a rather episodic plot describ­ ing the varying proportions of human faithfulness and falsity. The ring itself is an emblem of man in which the dazzling purity of the diamond and the scarlet imperfection of the fiend mix as the narrator Edward Caryl theorizes: "You knew th a t I can never separate the idea from the symbol in which it manifests itself. However, we may suppose the Gem to be the human heart, and the evil spirit to be Falsehood, which, in one guise or another, is the fiend that causes all the sorrow and trouble in the world" (p.67). From Countess Shrewsbury's treachery until the antique ring comes to the New England church, there has been a funda­ mental usurpation of the gem's pure brilliance by man's reddening perfidy. Even the New England church where the gem regains the proper mixture of red stain and white lustre is not face of the union of good and evil. Deacon Trott seems to be more proud of -131-

his revenue than of his work for God: "Copper! copper 1 copper! Do people expect to get admittance into heaven at the price of a few coppers?" (p.63). On the other hand, Deacon Tilton under­ stands the moral significance of the widow's mite: "Copper may due more for one person than gold will for another" (p. 63). Of all the people who have possessed the stone since Essex, only the hurtle deacon is capable of restoring the proper balance between

gem and fiend. Perhaps the purification of the ring in a New Bigland church may be more than coincidental. There is a suggestiannthat darken­ ing flaw of the ring reflects the history of England frcm Essex's execution, through the Civil War, to the corrupt administration of Sir Robert Walpole. In contrast, once the ring is in America, it finds a speedy and, perhaps, a lasting redemption: "Purified from the foul fiend, so long its inhabitant, by a deed of unosten­ tatious charity, and now made the symbol of faithful and devoted love, the gentle bosom of its new possessor need fear no sorrow from its influence" {p.66). America offers the hope of a new start and one of the primary manifestations of this American vitality is its literature. Edward Caryl, the narrator of the tale, appears to embody the potential of American letters: "...yet no unfavorable specimen of a generation of rising writers, whose -i 32- spirit is such that we may reasonably expect creditable attenpts from all, and good and beautiful results from some" (pp.52-53). The form of the tale itself is rather loose and episodic. In the tale's first move, there is no real here— unless one would consider the fiend within the gem to be God's avenging angel— but only victims and villains. II. Interdiction Elizabeth implicitly oatmands Essex not to fall out of favor by telling him the ring's history: "She took it frcm her finger, and told me, with a smile, that it was an heirloom from her Tudor ancestors, and had once been the property of Merlin, the British wizard, who gave it to the lady of his love. His art had made this diamond the abiding place of a spirit, which though of fieixiLsh nature, was bound to work only good, so long as the ring was an unviolated pledge of love and faith, both with the giver and the receiver" (pp. 54-55). III. Violation Essex and the queen do not retain a mutual faith: "Yet the queen's favor of which this ring was the syirbol, has proved ny ruin" (p.55). IV. Reconnaissance The Countess of Shrewsbury visits Essex in prison "to glut her revenge far a deed of scorn which he himself had f o r ­ g o tte n " (p. 54). -133-

V. Delivery By telling the Countess of Shrewsbury about the ring— especially about its pcwer to plead before Elizabeth— Essex un­ wittingly contributes to his own downfall.

VI. Trickery The countess deceitfully offers to deliver the ring to Elizabeth: "Trust this precious ring with me. This very night the queen's eye shall rest upon it... (p.59X* VII. Complicity After warning the countess of the ring's pcwer, he gives it to her. VIII. Villains "History shows how foully the Countess of Shrewsbury betrayed the trust, which Essex, in his utmost need, confided to her" (p. 61). XVIII. The Villain Is Defeated In betraying her trust, the countess frees the fiend to work his evil upon her. VIII. Villainies 1. The monument of the Shrewsbury family is desecrated and the ring plundered from the tarb by one of Cromwell's ser­ geants. 2. A gay cavalier slays the sergeant, obtains the ring, and pawns it for liquor. -134-

3. Sir Robert Walpole uses the ring as a bribe. 4. "Many a dismal and unhappytale might be wrought out of its other adventures" (p. 62). XVIII. The Villains Are Defeated 1. Hie sergeant "...thus became subject to the influences of the evil spirit that still kept his abode within the gemSs enchanted depths" (p.62). A cavalier kills him. 2. Liquor brings the cavalier to his grave.

3. Not described. 4. Not described. Villa. Lack Because of all of the villainies associated with the ring, the gen has lost its lustre and has acquired a dusky red tinge: "All this while, its ominous tinge of dusky red had been deepening and darkening, until, if laid upon white paper, it cast the mingled hue of night and blood, strangely illuminated with scintillating light, in a circle round about" (p. 62). Hie gem's loss of brilliancy is interwoven with another lack once the ring readies America: Deacon Trott's and Deacon Tilton's need of money for the church. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Journey— Work Deacons Trott and Tilton preach in the hopes of raising money, actively seeking donors. -135-

XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction Someone functions as a donor to Deacon Tilton. In turn Deacon Tilton functions as a donor to the ring, restoring its natural lustre. The two deacons seek out potential donors: "Wiile the choristers sang sweetly, and the organ poured forth its melodi­ ous thunder, the deacons passed up and down the aisles and along the galleries, presenting their mahogany boxes, in which each person deposited whatever sum he deemed it safe to lend to the Lord, in aid of human wretchedness" (p.63). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Deacon Trott obtains "A handsome evening's work" (p.64); Deacon Tilton obtains the ring; the ring receives the blessing of the hunble deacon. XIX. Lack liquidated Presunbably the money raised by the two men goes for the church's charitable work and is not used to finance a jaunt to Texas. Deacon Tilton's Christian spirit restores the gem's lustre: "It was as brilliant as if some magician had condensed the brightest star in heaven into a ocnpass fit to be set in a ring, for a lady's delicate finger" (p.65). -136-

"Egotism; or, the Bosom Serpent"

"Egotism; or the Boson Serpent" studies the effects of an intense self-cultivation. Like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, Roderick Ellis ten's snake gives him the knowledge of evil, but Roderick allows this knowledge to so predominate his life that it deprives him of his humanity. Elliston can become a man only losing his ego in a re-union with his wife, thereby establishing his humanity by giving himself to another. Elliston*s snake distinguishes him from the mass of carmen humanity, establishing him as the elect in a fiendish cult: "In sane of his moods, strange to say, he prided and gloried him­ self on being marked out from the ordinary experience of mankind, by the possession of a double nature, and a life within a life. He appeared to imagine that the snake was a divinity,— not celestial, it is true, but darkly infernal, and that he thence derived an eminence and a sanctity, horrid, indeed, yet more desirable than whatever anbition aims at" (p.310). As one— if not the only one— of the elect, he assumes the mission of propagandiz­ ing his snake-cult by showing other people the serpents in their breasts: a statesman, a miser, a man of rubicund visage, a clergyman, a man of disappointed hopes, a bickering couple, an envious author, a man of inpure life, a fair young girl, two -137- wcmen of fashion, and, most of all, jealous men. By confirming the evil in the hearts of even the most respectable people and by doing little else, Elliston becomes an isolated prophet with­ out honor and even a pariah. Vttiatever social function Roderick's knowledge may serve, it manifests a cultivation of the ego: "The snake in his bosom seemed the synfool of a monstrous egotism to which everything was referred, and which he pairpered night and day, with a continual and exclusive sacrifice of devil worship" (p.309). Even in his proselytizing, he cannot emerge from himself to work for the betterment of his fellows but remains unbalanced in his insistence on evil. He points to the evil in others to confirm the reality of his own affliction: "With cankered ingenuity, he sought out his own disease in every breast" (p.310). This inherent lack of fellowship causes Elliston to lose his humanity and even to assume the physical properties of a snake: "After an instant or two he beheld the figure of a lean man, of unwholesome lock, with glitter­ ing eyes and long blade hair, who seemed to imitate the motion of a snake; for instead of walking straight forward with open front, he undulated along the pavement in a curved line" (p.304). Dur­ ing the first interview, Herkimer detects a greenish tinge over Elliston's sickly white complexion and during the second meeting -138- fancies the writhings of his friend to resemble the motions of a snake. Cnly by accepting the magic of Rosina's injunction to forget himself can Elliston regain his humanity. As she touches her husband, the sculptor "beheld a waving motion through the grass, and heard a tinkling sound, as if something had plunged into the fountain" (p. 320). Elliston's union with Rosina restores his humanity— a humanity that may have been diseased since his great, grandfather drank from the fountain and since the family mansion, separated frcm the principal street by three tiered terraces, was 12 built. VIII. Villainy Because the tale devotes so much of itself to the descrip­ tion of the villainy's effects, the roles of villain and victim are extremely important. The villainy consists of two elements: a hereditary evil descending from Elliston's grandfather and an individual evil committed by Roderick upon himself. Scipio's account of the original villainy resulting from Roderick's great grandfather drinking in the snake from the fountain would make Elliston a victim while, if the villainy is the result of a monstrous evil, he is both villain and victim. Perhaps this

12 The Elliston mansion recalls the isolation of the Pynchecn mansion in The House of the Seven Gables. -139-

anbivalenoe reflects the interdependence of original and personal

sin. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident It is not clear how Herkimer learns of his friend's

disease. Perhaps Rosina dispatches him.

X. Beginning Counteraction Certainly Herkimer responds to the request. He is particularly suited for this heroic role since ha is the only one

Roderick finds pure, "A man without a serpent in his bosom!" {p.305). XI. Departure The sculptor leaves Florence.

XII. The First Function of the Donor Herkimer hopes that God will assist him: "And new, rry poor Rosina, Heaven grant me wisdom to discharge my errand aright!"

(p.303); however, his next sentence suggests a human donor, "Vtoman's faith must be strong indeed since thine has not failed" (p. 303). XIII. The Hero's Reaction Herkimer does not seem to understand the necessary role that Rosina's faith and love are to play, but because this tale does not stress the hero's role such ignorance may be -140- understandable. In the second interview with Roderick, Rosina acts directly on the sought-for-person, bypassing the hero. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent "Rosina had emerged from the arbor, and was bending over him with the shadow of his anguish reflected in his countenance, yet so mingled with hope and unselfish love that all anguish seemed but an earthly shadow and a dream. She touched Roderick with her hand" (p. 320).

XIX. Lack liquidated "Be the truth as it might, it is certain that Roderick Elliston sat up like a man renewed, restored to his right mind, and rescued from the fiend which had so miserably overcome him in the battlefield of his own breast" (p. 321). "Drowne's Wooden Image" "Drowne's Wooden Image" presents art as the union of imaginative creativity with mechanical skill. These two forces find a brief marriage in the woodcarver's figurehead for the Cynosure, his center of attention, as love functions as the catalytic agent: "To our friend Drowne there came a brief season of excitement kindled by love. It rendered him a genius for that one occasion, but, quenched in disappointment, left hiirsagain the mechanical carver in wood without the pcwer even of appreciating -141- the work that his own hand had wrought" (p. 362). Although there is a fusion of skill and creativity, it would seem that genius is primal. In the metamorphosis frcm Yankee mechanic to Pygmalion, the painter Copley appears as the woodcarver's artistic recogni­ tion in an espousal of Rcmantic concepts. Genius is the dynamisn propelling the artist beyond traditional genres in search of the irmanent reality. Even Drowne the artist voices a theory of organic form to Copley: "The figure lies within that block of oak, and it is my business to find it" (p.353). Imagination impels the Yankee to forego supposedly classical rules of sculpture to paint his work: "'The very spirit of genius,' muttered Copley to himself. 'How otherwise should this carver feel himself entitled to transcend all rules, and make me ashamed of quoting then?"' (p.355). The very spirit of the Romantics' disregard of actually neo-Classical conventions pervades this tale.

Villa. Lack Drowne's wooden figures lack an imaginative creativity which would make them works of art. His repertoire includes carvings in which "...the benign countenance of the king resanbled those of his subjects, and that Miss Peggy Hobart, the merchant's daughter, bore a remarkable similitude to Britannia, Victory, and other ladies of the allegoric sisterhood; and, finally, that they -142- all had a kind of wooden aspect which proved an intimate relation­ ship, with the unshaped blocks of tiirber in the carver's workshop"

(pp.349-50). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident In his role as dispatcher, Captain Hunnewell rejects the customary offerings and ocnnissicns as extraordinary work: "But as nothing like the brig ever swam the ocean, so I am deter­ mined she shall have such a figurehead as old Neptune never saw in his life. And what is more, as there is a secret in the matter, you must pledge your credit not to betray it" (p. 348). He demands complete attention so that just as his ship is the Synosure, the figurehead is the artist's cynosure: "'And Drcwne,' said he, impressively, 'you must lay aside all other business and set about this forthwith. And as to the price, only do the job in first-rate style, and you shall settle that point yourself1" (p.350). X. Beginning Counteraction Drowne accepts the commission add the secret: "...de­ pend upon it, I'll do my utmost to satisfy you" (p.350). XI. Departure Drowne does not leave his workshop but he does deviate from his normal routine: "Frcm that moment the men of taste about -143- Long Wharf and the Town Dock who were wont to show their love for the arts by frequent visits to Drowne's workshop, and admiration of his wooden images, began to be sensible of a mystery in the carver's conduct. Often he was absent in the daytime..'.' (p.350).

XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. Hero1s Reaction In working on his cynosure, the wood-carver experiences a love and passion for his work: "As Copley departed, happening to glance backward from the threshold, he beheld Drowne, bending over the half-created shape, and stretching forth his arms as if he would have onbraced and drawn it to his heart; while, had such a miracle been possible, his countenance expressed passion enough to camrunicate warmth and sensibility to the lifeless oak" (p.353). His passion functions as "a magic touch" (p.354). In working with the wood and in fusing it with his passion, he responds to his donor most positively. His imagination or perhaps the oak's hama-dryad bee ernes his donor, conferring love. XIV. Provision or Receipt of Magical Pgent "He looked earnestly at Drcwne, and again saw that expression of human love, which, in a spiritual sense, as the artist could not help imagining, was the secret of the life that had been breathed into this wood" (p.355) . -144-

XIX. Lack Liquidated Ihe figure seems to have so much life that it may have walked with Captain Hunnewell, "Drowne's wooden image has ocne to life!" (p.358). Perhaps the shipmaster was walking with the

Portuguese lady, but there is still the question of the broken fan. XX. Return "And forthwith he errplqyed himself on the stolid countenance of one of his wooden progeny, and completed it in his own mechanical style, from which he was never known afterwards to deviate" (p. 361). The wood carver returns frcm his journey of the mind to his former state; the lack has been liquidated but only tenporarily. "Feathertop: A Moralized Legend"

In "Feathertop," the reality of natural composition and perception counters the shallowness of aristocratic pretense founded upon dazzling attire, insubstantial riches, and a hundred or more set phrases of gallantry. lord Feathertop acquires his aristocratic presence through the materials out of which Mother Rigby fabricates him. His spine consists of the witch's broomstick; his arms are formed frcm a disabled flail and the remnants of a chair; his legs are made of -145- a hoe handle and a stick. This framework, the essence of his lordship, would have little appeal were it not for his clothes: a threadbore, plum-colored London coat; a velvet waistcoat; a pair of scarlet breeches that once graced the lints of the French governor of Louisbourg (the knees of which had once touched the lower steps of Louis le Grand's throne) but which since fell into the legs of an Indian pow-wow who deemed them a fair exchange for

"strong" water; silk stockings, and the hat which once topped the head of Mother Rigby's husband. Before Chevalier Feathertop speaks a word, these clothes dissemble for themsebnss. The citizens, awed by the dazzling beauty of his clothes, suggest that he is of old Norman blood, or of Dutch ancestry, or that he is a Frenchman bred in the court of le Grand Mcnarque, or that he is a noble Spaniard. So much do clothes make this man that with a touch of dramatic irony one of the citizens erroneously states: "If he came among us in rags, nobility would shine through a hole in his elbow" (p.269X. Obviously Lord Feathertop requires a large income to support his wardrobe. Mother Rigby bequeaths her creation with an income as vast as it is insubstantial: a gold mine in Eldorado, ten thousand shares in a broken bubble, a vineyard in the North Pole, a foundered salt ship, a Birmingham copper farthing. -146-

Bat clothes and wealth do not make the ocrplete aristo­ crat. In creating her Pygmalion, Mother Rigby endcws him with that attribute so necessary to the true gentlemen— polite speech: "Then thou speakest like thyself and meant nothing. Thou shalt have a hundred such set phrases and five hundred to the boot of them" (p. 263). His genteel language spririkes his conversation with "original" expressions at least as old as Petrarch. To Master Gookin's daughter who has been struck with the brilliant flashing of his star, the pirnpkin-headed cavalier replies, "So do your eyes, fair lady" (p.270). Polly Gockin falls a victim to Eteathertop's stereotyped gallantry or rather to her own idea of being in love:"...the poor child's heart, it may be, was so very fervent that it melted her with its own warmth as reflected from the hollow senblanoe of a lover" (p. 275). Polly tampers with her own simplicity in order to present "as ocnplete an artifice as the illustrious Feathertcp himself" (p. 272). Artifice begets artifice as Polly and the other citizens deceive themselves into mistaking the appearance for the reality. There are two townsfolk, however, who are not victims of their own distorted perceptions: a little child and a cur. The child and the dog are joined by Master Gockin who, once alerted to the inherent deviltry of Feathertop's finery, becomes a man of -147- perspicacity: "Moreover, being a man of wonderfully acute obser­ vation, he had noticed that these painted figures on the bowl of Feathertop's pipe ware in motion. Looking more closely, he became convinced that these figures were a party of little demons, each duly provided with horns and a tail, and dancing hand in hand, with gestures of diabolical merriment round the circumference of the pipe" (p. 273) . The natural lucidity of the child and the dog and the alerted vision of Master Gookin climax in the view which the mirror offers. Uncomplicated and devoid of the pretense of a blinding inner eye, the mirror is "incapable of flattery" (p.276).

It presents Polly and more importantly Feathertop himself with an undistorted picture. Once he recognized himself, the scarecrow assumes a human reality which seans more substantial than the world itself, as even a witch can comprehend: '"Poor Feathertop!' she continued. 'I could easily give him another chance and send him forth again tcmorrow. But no; his feelings are too tender, his sensibilities too deep. He seems to have too much heart to bustle for his own advantage in such an snpty and heartless world"' (p.278). In a significant reversal, Feathertop is no longer the sham; the world is. The form of the tale consists of three moves, each one of which is signaled hy Mother Rigby's obtaining of a coal for her pipe frcm Dickon. Each time that she receives the coal he purposes changes, thereby creating a new move. -148-

Initial Situation "'Dickon,' said Mother Rigby, 'a coal for my pipe!'" (p.253).

Villa. Lack The witch needs a scarecrow: "It was now the latter week of May, and the crows and blackbirds had already discovered thir-little, green, rolled-up leaf of the Indian corn just peeping v,4 out of the soil" (p.253). / IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Mother Rigby functions as her own dispatcher.

X. Beginning Counteraction "She was determined, therefore, to contrive as lifelike a scarecrow as ever was seen, and to finish it dmnediately frcm top to toe, so that it should begin its sentinel's duty that very morning" (p. 253). Having resolved not to employ her magic she sets to work. XIX. Lack Liquidated The witch makes her scarecrow out of old material she has in her house: "Then the old dame stood the figure up in a corner of her cottage and chuckled to behold its yellow semblance of a visage, with its nobby little nose thrust into the air"

(p. 256). Initial Situation "'Dickon,' said she sharply, 'another coal for my pipel" (p. 253) . -149-

VJIIa. lack (Desire)

"That puppet yonder,1 throught Mother Rigby, still with her eyes fixed on the scarecrow, 'is too good a piece of work to stand all sutmer in a c o m patch, frightening away the crows and blackbirds. He's capable of better things" (p.257). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident The witch functions as her own dispatcher. X. Beginning Counteraction "I'll make a man of my scarecrow, were it only far the joke's sake!" (p.257). XII. Hie First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Being a witch, Mother Rigby can function as her cwn donor, lending the passive scarecrow her pipe. Each puff on the "bewitched" (p.258) pipe quickens the mass of odds and ends. After the scarecrow is alive, the witch endows him with speech, a hundred stock phrases (at least a hundred), and wealth. XIX. Lade Liquidated The scarecrow is alive. Initial Situation "'Dickon,' cried she in her high sharp tone, 'another coal for this pipe!'" (p.266). -150-

Vllla. Lade Earlier while Feathertop was still in the process of being made, the witch had mentioned Polly Gookin. The precise mission of Feathertop becomes clearer later in the narrative when

Master Gookin's debt to the witch is revealed: "This respectable old gentleman, we fear, at an earlier period of life, had given some pledge or other to the evil principle, and perhaps was now

to redeem it by the sacrifice of his daughter" (p. 274). lake Robin in "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," Feathertop begins his quest in the city as directed by his "family," but then abandons this quest as the search for self-knowledge super­ cedes the original mission. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Mother Rigby dispatches her creation: "Now depart, ny treasure, and good luck go with thee!" (p.267).

X. Beginning Counteraction Feathertop assumes the hero's role as he— rather con­ ventionally— replies: "I will thrive, if an honest man and a gentleman may!" (p. 267). XI. Departure XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent -151-

XV. Guidance Hie scarecrow leaves for town but not before the witch, functioning as donor, gives him a staff, transformed into a gold cane, which will guide him to Master Gookin. * As Feathertop enters the town, he creates an uproar over his origin (XXIII, Unrecognized arrival). He deoeives the people by assisting them in deluding themselves (XXIV, Unfounded Claims of False Hero). A 3 the mirror reflects his true image, he and Polly see the truth beneath his noble facade (XXVII, Exposure). In this case the mirror functions much like a donor— it conveys knowledge. Such a radical usurpation of the sequence of functions violates Propp's theorem that the sequence of the functions is fixed; however, Feathertop participates in the spheres of action of both the hero and the false hero. By juxtaposing his functions as hero and as false hero, the narrative stresses the appearance— reality theme. XIX. Lack liquidated Feathertop does not obtain the girl, but he does obtain self-knowledge. XX. Return Feathertop returns to the witch. -152-

XXIX. Transfiguration "Snatching the pipe from his mouth, he flung it with all his might against the chimney, and at the same instant sank upon the floor, a medley of straw and tattered garments, with sane sticks protruding fran the heap, and the shrivelled pumpkin in the midst" (pp. 277-78).

XXXI. Ascension to the Throne Ifeathertop does not win the girl, but he does assume a throne appropriate to his nature; he stands a scarecrow, ful­ filling his original purpose. "The Gorgon's Head" It would seem to be superfluous to describe the opposi­ tion in "The Gorgon's Head" as being between good and evil characters, yet it would be premture to overlook the contrasts: the hospitable fisherman and his inhospitable brother, King Polydectes; the good Danafe'and her son Perseus versus the wicked people who set them adrift and later versus King Polydectes and his subjects; Quicksilver and Minerva versus the gorgons; the young, beautiful, and co-operative Nymphs versus the old, grotesque, and squabling Three Gray Women. This opposition between good and evil characters entails a polarity between dynamic mobility and static rest. -153-

In this tale, the function of the villains is to set

Perseus in motion while they remain relatively inactive. The story opens with wicked characters setting Perseus and his mother afloat and Polydectes initiates the main movement of the tale by ordering Perseus on the quest for -the Medusa's head. Later the king remains in character as he forces Danae to flee. Thus, the king merely sits in state, issuing orders. Like their king, the people of Seriphus enjoy the sedentary, passive pleasures of spectatorship: "The king well knew that his subjects were an idle set of reprobates, and very fond of sightseeing, as idle persons usually are" (p. 33). The people of Seriphus enjoy the ultimate in stasis as they gaze upon the face of the Medusa. Even the gargoms themselves seem to be inordinately dormant. When Perseus first sights the monsters (a sight which is preliminary to action and is not an end unto itself), the three of them are sleeping. Such inactivity provides the hero the chance to act quickly just as earlier he had to grab the lone eye of the Three

Gray Women. In contrast to the negative pole of static spectatorship, or of sedentary rule, or of inactivity, Quicksilver, Minerva, and the Nymphs represent theheroic pole of dynamic motion. As his name implies, Quicksilver is all action: "He was exceedingly light and active in his figure, like a person much accustomed to -154- gymnastic exercises and well able to leap or run" (p. 14). Quick­ silver's distinctive attire stresses speed: winged shoes and hel­ met, a magical staff which can accelerate his pace. His injunc­ tions to Perseus are to move quickly, to keep up a brisk pace in order to find the Three Gray Vfcmen, to grab the eye of the three old crones quickly, to kill the Medusa swiftly. The winged god's function as helper to Perseus is to instil in the hero an exulta­ tion in speed and vitality— graces which Perseus rapidly esteems: "By the time they had ascended a few hundred feet, theyoung man began to feel what a delightful thing it was to leave the dull earth so far beneath him, and to be able to flit about as a bird" (p.26). Unlike her brother, Minerva remains invisible; however, viewing her is not the object of Perseus' quest; like her brother, she speeds the hero on his way. Similar in function to both Qucik- silver and Minerva, the Nymphs give the hero flying slippers for speed, a helmet of invisibility, and a purse to shield him frcm Medusa's gaze. Vhy does the hero so consistently align himself and be aligned by the gods on the pole of dynamic action? Perhaps the answer to this question lies in Quicksilver's early ocmmaht to Perseus: "But, on the whole, one would rather be a young nan for a few years, than a stone image for a great many" (p. 15). Per­ haps the tale is stressing the choice made by Achilles: a brief -155- but glorious life over a long but sedentary one. Certainly Perseus is young and Quicksilver and the Nymphs appear to be inrmortally so while the dragon-like Medusa seems raoe-old and Polydectes does not share in the youthful exuberance of Perseus. In this tale, youth and speed emerge victorious over age and stasis.

VIII. Villainy "And when Perseus was a very little bey, some wicked people put his mother and himself into a chest, and set then afloat upon the sea" (p. 10). XIX. Lade Liquidated The kind fisherman takes care of Danae* and Perseus. Later Perseus journeys to King Polydectes' court. VIII. Villainy, Villa. Lack In sending Perseus on what he thinks is a fatal quest, Polydectes is attempting a villainy while at the same time mani­ festing his desireffor Medusa's head. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident The king dispatches Perseus (p. 12). X. Beginning Counteraction "'I will set out tomorrow morning,' answered Perseus"

(p. 12). Notification The narrator describes the gcrgons (pp. 12-13). -156-

XI. Departure Perseus "crossed over from the island to the mainland"

(p. 14). XII. Ihe First Function of the Donor Quicksilver greets and interrogates the hero: "'Perseus,' said the voice, 'why are you sad?"' (p. 14). After Perseus answers his query, the god asks the hero to polish his shield (p. 16).

XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction Perseus complies with the request to polish the shield.

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Quicksilver gives Perseus the sward (p.16). But Perseus must acquire other magical agents from Quick­ silver. Ihe god functions as a helper in delivering theyyoung hero to the Ihree Gray Women and in advising Perseus not to accept their first response. Hie three old hags finally function as helpers to direct Perseus to the donor-Nymphs who give the hero winged slippers, the helmet of invisibility, and a magic purse (pp. 18-26).

XV. Guidance "With these words. Quicksilver's cap spread its wing, as if his head were about to fly away from his soldiers; but his whole figure rose lightly into the air, and Perseus followed..." (pp. 27-28). XVI. Struggle -157-

XVIII. Victory Perseus decapitates the Medusa (pp. 28-30). XIX. Lade Liquidated \ "'Your task is done,' said the calm voice" (p.30).

XX. Return Perseus begins his homeward journey.

XXI. Pursuit "No sooner were the Gargons broad awake, than they hurtled upward into the air..." (p.31).

XXII. Rescue Perseus employs his helmet of invisibility and winged

slippers to escape. XXIII. Siirple Arrival Perseus presents himself at the court (p. 32).

XXX. Punishment King Polydectes and the evil inhabitants are exposed to Medusa's head at their cwn insistence. "Ihe Golden Touch" In "The Golden Touch," King Midas chooses between the dur­ able wealth of Pluto's realm, gold, and the transitory and more delicate riches cultivated by his child Mary gold and governed by

Proserpina. The king first aligns himself with Pluto's wealth; -158- but, finding that human values are more closely associated with

Proserpina's kingdom, he reverses his. At first a Plutonian character, Midas chooses to spend his leisure in his subterranean treasure vaults. When the stranger asks Midas what would satisfy him, the king promptly replies that the fruition of his dreams would be to turn all he touches into gold. Midas has his dream fulfilled. Like the dreams of many fathers, his very desire to hoard up gold seems to be predicated upon his desire to hand dcwn something of permanence to his daughter: "He thought, foolish man! that the best thing he could possibly do for this dear child, would be, to bequeath her the innensest pile of yellow, glistening coin, that had ever been heaped together since the world was made" (p.40). To his daughter, Marygold, he explains the basis of his choice as a decision for the endurance of metal over the ephemeral beauty of flowers: "You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden rose like that (which will last hundreds of years) for an ordinary one, which would wither in a day" (p.49). In searching for this Plutonian permanence, he little esteems Marygold1 s quickly fading flowers or ever the sunbeam— except when it makes his gold shine. After the stranger miraculously actualizes the king's daydream, Midas would appear to be at the zenith of his success. -159-

But the realization of his dream becomes a living night­ mare. The rapid disillusionment’* with the world of golden stasis marks Midas’ move to an acceptance of Proserpina's above­ ground beauty of life. His first dissatisfaction centers on the metamorphosis of his daughter's handiwork to gold: "Somehow or another, this last transformation did not quite please King Midas. He would rather that his little daughter's handiwork should have remained just the same as when she climbed his knee and put it into his hand" (p.46). The1 king finds that his newly acquired blessing— or curse— prevents him from enjoying the simple, hunan pleasure of eating fish, hotcakes, and eggs. When the rosy' face of his daughter is turned to gold, Midas’ nightmare is complete. His passion for gold has overwhelmed his human emotions and tastes.

When the stranger returns, Midas wastes no time in lauding the simple delights nor in following the instructions to rid himself of the golden touch. He plunges into the river, signifying the cleansing of his farmer allegiance to Pluto's wealth and his baptism into the kingdom of Proserpina. Once reborn, Midas "was overjoyed to find that the delicate flower retained its purple hue, instead of undergoing a yellow blight" (p.56); he restores Marygold and her roses to their natural condition. The most important transformation has occurred within Midas himself. -160-

Hie paradigmatic structure of the tale develops along a rather simple form. At first, King Midas thinks he suffers from a lack of gold. After this apparent lack is liquidated, the nan with the golden touch realizes that his appetite for gold is a false one and that he wants to rid himself of his misfortune. In liquidating both the superficial and the real lacks, the role of the donor is essential.

Villa. Lack "Midas called himself a happy man, but felt that he was not yet quite so happy as he might be. rIhe very tip-top of enjoyment would never be reached, unless the whole world were to become his treasure-rocm, and be filled with yellcw metal which should be all his cwn" (p. 42). XII. Ihe First Function of the Donor Ihe stranger asks what would satisfy Midas (p.44).

XIII. Ihe Hero's Reaction "I wish everything that I touch be turned to gold"

(p.44). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent At sunrise, Midas acquires the golden touch. XIX. Lack Liquidated "Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and ran about the room, grasping at everything that happened to be in his way" (p. 46). -161-

Vllla. Lack Midas becomes dissatisfied over the transformation of the handkerchief that his daughter gave him and of his coffee, trout, hotcakes, and eggs; he becomes distraught over the meta­ morphosis of his daughter.

XII. Hie First Function of the Donor Hie stranger asks, "...pray, hew do you succeed with the Golden Touch?" (p.54); in order to rid himself of his gift, Midas must bathe in the river and fill an earthen pitcher with the river water according to the stranger. XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction

"You will easily believe, that Midas lost no time in snatching 15) a great earthen pitcher (but, alas me! it was no longer earthen after he touched it) and hastening to the river-side" (p. 55). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Hie river causes him to lose his touch. XIX. Lack Liquidated Midas restores Marygold and her flowers to their natural condition. "Hie Paradise of Children" like Genesis, Paradise Lost, the classical myth of Pandora's Box, and many other narratives, "Hie Paradise of Children" focuses -162- cn the movement from innocence to knowledge of evil. In this tale, innocence is expressed through a children's Eden where all enjoy a Peter Pan existence while disease, aging, and death characterizes maturity. Despite the dichotomy between the pleasures of childhood and the cares of maturity, as in Genesis and Milton's epic, the transition from innocence to experience assumes the significance of a felix culpa. The initial situation in which Epimetheus and his com­ panion, Pandora, find themselves is a paradise of children who never grew old, of flowers that never fade, and of games without quarrels. Like Adam and Eve in Eden, the two protagonists have only one ocnmandment: not to open the box which Quicksilver has entrusted to them. Yet this forbidden box is the cause of un­ rest for Pandora from her entrance into Epimetheus' cottage. One of her first questions is, "Epimetheus, what have you in that box?" (p.65). Her curiousity waxes rather than wanes: "It is probable that the very greatest disquietude, which a child had ever experienced, was Pandora's vexation at not being able to discover the secret of the mysterious box" (p.66). Even in this first part of the story, there is an opposition of carefree joy to vexing trouble. Pandora and, as will become apparent, even Epimetheus feel that their joy is not complete. -163-

Uie box which Pandora has called ugly above a hundred times exercises an increasing fascination over her (p.69). Be­ fore crossing the threshold between joy and sorrow, the heroine is both attracted and repulsed by the box. This attraction- repulsion fixation on the box, and particularly on the face in high relief seems to invest the figure with a Satanic, tempting quality: "Do not be afraid, Pandora 1 What harm can there be in opening the box? Never mind that poor, simple Epimetheus! You are wiser than he, and have ten times as much spirit. Open the box, and see if you do not find something very pretty!" (p.70). As she tries to satisfy her inquisitiveness by prying into the golden knot, a dark cloud gathers in the sky, presaging the future (p. 75). As in other narratives of a fall from innocence to experi­ ence, however. Pandora is not alone in her fascination for the interdicted object nor in guilt for the deed. Though not as transparent as the interest of his companion, Epimetheus partakes of her fascination with the box: "But Epimetheus himself, al­ though he said very little about it, had his own share of curiousity to know what was inside" (p. 75). Like Adam in Paradise Lost, he deserts his helpmate on Hie day of doom and shares in her guilt by not crying out against her action. Like Adam and » Eve, the child-couple cannot prevent the effects of their action -164-

from spreading to their fellcws. The two of them initiate the

process of aging: "And what was very singular, all of the flowers

and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of which had hitherto faded,

now began to droop and shed their leaves, after a day or two. The children, moreover, who before seemed inmortal in their childhood, new grew older..." (p. 77). Yet this movement from innocent childhood to careworn age is not a simple movement from good to evil. Just as the joy of

childhood is not without the vexation of the box, so is the care

of age not without hope: "And, to tell you the truth, X cannot help being glad— (though, to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty

thing for her to do)— but I cannot help being glad that our foolish Pandora peeped into the box. ...But then that lovely and lightsome little figure of Hope! What in the world could we do without her? Hope spiritualizes the earth; Hope makes it always new, and even in the earth's best and brightest aspect, Hope

shows it to be only the shadow of an infinite bliss, hereafter!"

(p. 81). Initial Situation As the title of the tale indicates, the opening scene presents a paradise of children. II. Interdiction Quicksilver enjoins Epimetheus not to open the box which the god gave to him. -165-

III. Violation Hie entrance of Pandora and of her open inquisitive­ ness about the box reflects a violation of Quicksilver's inplicit command not to be curious about the box. It is important to re­ call that Pandora is not alone in her interest in the box; Epimetheus shares this interest but he is more taciturn about it. She m y be the boy's alter ego and manifest his submerged wishes.

Villa. Lack (Desire)

When Epimetheus leaves Pandora (p. 68), her curiousity becomes the dominant part of the narrative and by its very nature manifests a desire to see what the box contains. Of course, this desire also evidences a villainy in which Epimetheus shares when he returns. Because of their action the two become their cwn villains. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

"Ch, I am stung" (p.76). XII. Hie First Function of the Donor Hie tapping from inside of the box and the entreaty, "Only lift the lid, and you shall see!" (p.78) indicates the presence of the future donor. XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction Epimetheus and Pandora lift the lid (pp. 79-80). -166-

XXV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

Hope is the gift given to man. XIX. Lack Liquidated The concluding words of the narrator may indicate that the real initial lack in the paradise of children is a spiritual one: "Hope spiritualizes the earth; Hope makes it always new; and, even in the earth's best and brightest aspect, Hope shews it to be only the shadow of an infinite bliss, hereafter.'" (p.81). "The Three Golden Apples" Hercules, the hero of "The Three Golden Apples," is a man "who had enjoyed very little peace or rest, since he came into the world" (p. 91). Although his wandering spirit would seem to inform the tale, it is only one of the two poles which define the paradigm of the story. Motion and immobility both as repose and as forbearance form the twin bases of the tale. Although "there was a good deal of the lion's fierceness in his heart" (p. 91), Hercules obtains the three golden apples not by fierce aggression but rather by patient endurance. Such perserveranoe is quite atypical of the hero. In recounting his adventures to the Nynphs, Hercules stresses the fierce strength of his attack: hew he strangled two serpents as a baby; hew he had killed a lion; how he held battled the Hydra; how he had chased a stag for a twelvemonth, how he had fought with a race of beings -167- half horse and half man; how he had turned the course of a river to clean the Aegean stables; how he had shot monstrous birds, caught a wild bull, and tamed wild horses; and how he had con­ quered Hippolyta, the queen of the Amazons. Is it any wonder that Hercules expects to win the three golden apples by smashing every one of the dragon's heads with his club? Yet in order to obtain these apples, Hercules must first demonstrate his perserverance by not releasing Proteus whose strategy is to capitalize an a lack of steadfastness: "When he had found himself so roughly' seized by Hercules, he had been in hopes of putting him into such sur­ prise and terror, by these ragical transformations, that the hero would be glad to let him go" (p. 100). Even the tale of Hercules' struggle with Antaeus, which seems to interrupt the narrative, re-enforoes this theme of endurance. The hero cannot slay the giant in his customary way: "Thus, the harder Hercules pounded the giant with his club, the farther he seemed frcm winning the victory" (p. 101). Similar to the way in which Hercules holds fast to Proteus or later supports the sky, the hero conquers Antaeus not by direct onslaught but by moral and physical stamina while remaining motionless. Later, while Atlas tenporarily abandons his task which detrends inexhaustible patience and ranbles to the Hesperides, Hercules switches roles to become the forbear ant supporter of the sky rather than the wandering hero. -168-

Yet, forbearance is only one aspect of the pole of immobil­ ity. Repose or leisure is the more pleasant side of the relatively motionless state. When the tale opens, Hercules is journeying on and on until he arrives at the brink of a river. Here young women whose only task seems to be the weaving of flowers into wreaths listen'to the hero. So at ease in Hercules that: "They took possession of his ponderous club, and .so entwined it about with the brightest, softest, and most flagrant blossoms, that not a finger's breadth of its oaken substance oould be seen" (pp.95-96).

Finally Hercules leaves the bower of bliss to seek out Proteus. Proteus, the old man who directs the hero to Atlas is a mixture of frenzied activity and repose. When Hercules first encounters him, he is asleep,' resembling a "stick of timber, that has been long tossed about by the waves, and has got all overgrown with barnacles" (p.98). However barnacle-encrusted he may be, the old man can quickly metamorphize himself into many different shapes. After his encounter with Proteus, Hercules roams on to Egypt where he escapes death by killing the king and then moves on to the deserts. This period of activity is followed by a lull as the hero naps in the golden cup which carries him to Atlas. But despite these periods of forbearance, of frozen action, or of repose, Hercules is essentially a wanderer. The end of the -169- tale restores a sense of equilibrium as the modulation between activity and inmobility ends with Hercules tricking Atlas as the two of them return to their customary roles. The story begins in medias res with Hercules informing by the beautiful young women by the river bank of the earlier functions (Vllla-X). Villa. Lack Hercules' cousin, the king, wants three golden apples. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident ’"A certain king, vho is my cousin,' replied he, ’has ordered me to get him three of the golden apples'” (p.92).

X. Beginning Counteraction "But it is my destiny to obey him [i.e. the king]"

(p. 92). Xt. Departure "At the time of which I am going to speak, he was wandering through the pleasant land of Italy, with a mighty club in his hand, and a bow and quiver slung across his shoulders" (p. 91). XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction -170-

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent 1. The rather lengthy dialogue between Hercules and the women (pp.92-95) culminates in the hero's proclamation, "My name is Hercules I" (p. 95). To this proclamtion, the maidens reply positively: "We do not think it strange, any longer, that you should set out in guest of the golden apples of the Hesperides. Come, sisters, let us crown the hero with flowers!" (p.95). The women cannot confer a magical agent; however, they do direct the hero to Proteus. 2. Hercules withstands his test with Proteus: "When the old fellow heard who it was that had caught him, he saw, with half an eye, that it would be necessary to tell him everything that he wanted to know" (p. 100). Proteus directs Hercules to Atlas.

XV. Guidance Hercules enters the golden bcwl which carries him to Atlas. XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent 3. Atlas agrees to obtain the golden apples if Hercules holds the sky. The hero agrees to the terms of the bargain: "'Well then,' answered Hercules, 'I will clinb the mountain, be­ hind you there, and relieve you of your burden! "' (p. 106). In -171- the transference of the golden apples to the hero, there is a com­ plication, however, as Hercules must trick Atlas in order to ob­ tain the apples. XIX. Lack Liquidated

Hercules obtains the objects of his quest. XX. Return "And Hercules picked up the three golden apples, that were as big or bigger than punpkins, and straightway set out his journey homeward, without paying the slightest heed to the thundering tones of the giant, who bellowed after him to ccme back" (p. 110). "The Chimaera" In "The Chimaera" the opposing forces are an earth-bound coarseness of both body and mind and an aetherial purity of both mind and body bound only by the stars. In the conflict between these antithetical forces, there is little doubt over which of the two triunphs as Bellerophon and Pegasus overcome the earth- spawned Chimaera; yet in the middle-aged and old-aged men's refusal to recognize the winged horse's existence and in the maiden's temerity, the earth-bound coarseness survives. The Chimaera is a heterogeneous coupling of goat, lion, and snake produced in the entrails of the earth: -172-

.. .this Chimaera was nearly, if not quite, the ugliest and most poisonous creature, and the strangest and unacoountablest, and the hardest to fight with, and the most difficult to run away from that ever came out of the earth's inside. It had a tail like a boa-con­ strictor; its body was like I do not care what; and it had three separate heads, one of which was a lion's, the second a goat's, and the third an abominably great snake's. And a hot blast of fire came flaming out of each of its three mouths! Being an earthly monster, I doubt whether it had any wings; but, wings or no, it ran like a goat and a lion, and wriggled along like a serpent, and thus contrived to make about as much speed as all three together (p. 150). Not only was the monster b o m in the bowels of the earth but he also lives there, making a cave his lair. Like the underworld in which he was bred, his element is fire and his scent "ugly, sulphurous, stifling" (p. 160). Unlike the Chimaera's horrid, havoc-creating flame, the blaze darting from Pegasus' eyes is pure: "Meanwhile, Pegasus had again paused in the air, and neighed angrily, while sparkles of a pure, crystal flame darted out of his eyes. Hew unlike the lurid fire of the Chimaera!" (pp. 163-64). VSiile the Chimaera lurks in a cave, the winged horse resides atop Mount Helicon, the home of the muses: "Oh, how fine a thing it is to be a winged horse! Sleeping at night, as he did on a lofty mountain-top, and passing the greater part of the day in the air, Pegasus seemed hardly to be a creature of the earth" (p.156). Unlike the heterogeneous monstrosity of the earth-bound Chimaera, Pegasus is a homogeneous blending of bird and horse. -173-

The opposition of earth-bound to air-borne is not re­

stricted solely to physical descriptions of preternatural beings but also describes the differing mental states of the human characters. The middle-aged oountryfellcw has a mind which can comprehend only the land on which he works: "Of what use would wings be to a horse? Could he drag the plough so well, think you? To be sure there might be a little saving in the expense of shoes; but then how would a man like to see his horse flying out of the stable window?— yes; or whisking him 15) above the clouds, when he only wanted to ride to mill? No, no! I don't

believe in Pegasus" (p. 147). The middle-aged man sees horses as valuable only when restricted to -the plow, mill, or stable; to the contrary, Bellercphon regrets even bridling the horse:

"Meeting his eyes, however, he was so affected by the gentleness of his aspect and by his beauty, and by the thought of the free

life which Pegasus had heretofore lived, that he oould not beau: to keep him prisoner, if he really desired his liberty" (p. 157). The old man is not as vociferous a spokesman for the earth as his younger countryman, yet he too refuses to acknowledge the existence of Pegasus. He seems to be too weighed down by his own nostalgia: "'I remember now,' quoth the old nan, 'I saw this winged horse once before, when I was quite a lad. But he was ten times handsomer, in those days'" (p.166). The maiden is not -174- dross as the two men are but she lacks the courage to recognize the purity of the steed, "for she had always the luck to be afraid at the wrong time" (p. 166). Only the gentle boy can assist Bellerophon for the child possesses an innocent faith which can support the trust of the hero. The boy was to become a poet and take "higher flights upon the aerial steed than ever did Bellerophon" (p. 167), graced with the pure power of imagination. Despite the powers on Mount Helicon, however, the middle-aged skeptic and the senile, nostalgic old man persist. "The Chimaera" Ihe narrative begins in medias res with Bellerophon arriv­ ing at the Fountain of Pirene. The narrator supplies the missing functions after Bellerophon finds a helper who shares in his belief— the gentle boy. ihe story focuses on the inability of the middle aged countryman, the elderly man, and the maiden to be donors and helpers to the hero because of their varying de­ grees of drossness and, conversely, stresses the imaginative power of the gentle boy which enables him to be Bellerophon1 s helper. VIII. Villainy The Chimaera devastates the realm of King Iobates

(pp. 150-51). -175-

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident "King Iobates, perceiving the courage of his youthful visitor, proposed to him to go and fight the Chimaera, which everybody else was afraid of, and which, unless it should be soon killed, was likely to convert Lycia into a desert" (p.151).

X. Beginning Counteraction "Bellerophon hesitated not a moment, but assured the king that he would slay this dreaded Chimaera, or perish in the

attempt" (p.151). XI. Departure "And this was the purpose with which he had travelled

from Lycia to Greece..." (p.151). XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. Hero’s Feaction XIV. Provision or Receipt of a Magical Agent Hawthorne’s tale does not narrate Athene's bestcwal of the magic bridle, even though Bellerophon enters with it. XII. The First Function of the Donor Bellerophon seeks information but only the maiden and especially the gentle boy are able to help him (pp. 144-148) . "Every morning, the child gave him a new hope to put in his boson, instead of yesterday's withered one" (p. 152).

Bellerophon responds to the hope expressed by the boy. -176-

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of a Magical Agent Hie boy's hope enables Bellerophon to wait patiently for tiie steed. Finally Pegasus cones.

Bellerophon clasps the golden bit of the enchanted bridle into Pegasus1 mouth whereupon the horse becomes manageable (p. 157).

By offering Pegasus his freedom, Bellerophon gains the confidence of the winged horse (p. 158). XV. Spatial Transference Between Two Kingdoms, Guidance

Bellerophon and Pegasus hasten towards Lycia (pp. 156-60). XVI. Struggle Bellerophon fights the Chimaera (pp. 161-65).

XVII. Branding "With one of its claws, the Chimaera had given the young nan a deep scratch in his shoulder, and had slightly damaged the left wing of the flying steed, With the other"

(p. 163). One side of Bellerophon's golden ringlets and Pegasus' wings are scardied (p-164). XVIII. Victory Hie Chimaera is dead (p. 165). XIX. Hie Initial Misfortune Is Liquidated XX. Return XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival

Bellerophon and Pegasus first return to the Fountain of Pirene where the middle aged man, the old man, and the maiden -177- do not recognize Pegasus. By making the hero return to the land of prospective but inadequate donors, the tale stresses this role. XXVII. Recognition Ihe Gentle Boy recognizes the hero.

"Ihe Minotaur” Although "Ihe Minotaur" seems to be little more than a succession of moves, a coherent paradigmatic structure does under­ lie the complex form. Ihe structure consists of the opposition between land and sea. In the tale, the sea appears as calm and serene while the land, especially the inner earth, is an area polluted by man's crafty and subtle inventions. If the land poses dangers, however, it also furnishes opportunities for the hero Iheseus. King Pittheus advises the hero of the essential difference between land and sea: "'Ihe roads are very bad, by land,' quoth the venerable king; 'and they are terribly infested with robbers and monsters. A mere lad, like Iheseus, is not fit to be trusted on such a perilous journey, all by himself. No, no; let him go by sea*" (p. 187), Ihe sea does not only mean safe passage, but also signifies an element of harmony which refuses the body of the villainous Scinis. Even on the journey to the Cretan bafcyrriftth, -178- the ocean is the scene of natural joy and serenity: "But, by-and- by, when they had got fairly out to sea, there came a stiff breeze fccin the northwest, and drove them along as merrily over the white-capt waves, as if they had been going on the most delight­ ful errand imaginable" (p. 199). More appropriately, the victori­ ous return voyage from Crete is an occasion for "sports, dancing, and other merriment" (p.212) and witnesses the absorption of Talus into the depths of the sea. Even the fall of King Aegeus into the foam does not disturb its harmony but rather presages the passing of rule to Iheseus. Unlike its reaction to Scinis, the sea receives the careworn king. It is no wonder that Aegeus exhausted himself in rule for the land is an area of turmoil, demanding heroic power. Theseus' achievements focus on probing subterranean secrets. His first task is to lift a huge rock to obtain his father's gifts; his most heroic labor is to penetrate the depths of the labyrinth to destroy the Minotaur. Talus, the other Cretan monster, seems to derive from the skill of Vulcan, (p. 200), the god whose furnaces are often located beneath volcanoes. The inner earth provides man with invention and subtlety which above ground find manifes­ tations in Procrustes' bed, of Medea's poisons, and of Minos' cruelty. Both on the surface and beneath it, the land seethes with dangers and with opportunities for the hero. -179-

Like the sea, Iheseus is devoid of sublety and craft and, even when cast into the dungeon (another result of man's invention), retains a natural harmony which exerts a strong influence on Ariadne: "And when she beheld the brave, spirited figure of Prince Iheseus, bearing himself so calmly in his terrible peril, she grew a hundred times more pitiful than before" (p. 203). In the victory over the Minotaur, Ariadne provides the stratagem and Iheseus furnishes the brawn. The hero is so devoid of craft that, without someone schooled in wisdom, he appears to be deficient. He forgets to change sails on the return voyage from Crete and thereby occasions his father's death. Fortunately his mother ccmes from Tnoezene to help her son: "However, he sent for his dear mother to Athens, and, by taking her advice, in matters of state, became an excellent monarch, and was greatly beloved by his people" (p. 212). In order to cope with the involuted com­ plexity of problems on land, Theseus needs the assistance of women to supply a sagacity unpolluted by crime. Obviously such a narrative lends itself to a Freudian interpretation. Iheseus' alliance with his mother and the sea, his search for his father and subsequent replacement of the latter as king, his rule directed by his mother, his probing into the secrets of the earth, his fight with a phallic monster -180-

all have oepidal associations; however, an exclusively Freudian reading may not be valid. Crete, a technologically superior civilization, utilizes its powers to build labyrinths and bronze giants while Athens appears to have a far less sophisticated

culture which relies upon Theseus' courage and women's natural 13 wisdom. The depiction of the sea as a benevolent element may

express the historical Athenian association with the water. In oedipal terms, Crete functions as the father figure, a malign,

sophisticated force, which is supplanted by Athens represented by the young, gallant Theseus aided by women. Thus, a Freudian and an historical analysis iray reinforce each other.

I. Absentation Aegeus, Theseus' father, is in Athens: "Here she often talked with her son about his father, and said that he was called Aegeus, and that he was a great king, and ruled over Attica, and dwelt at Athens, which was as famous a city as any in the world" (p.183).

II. Interdiction In Propo's schema, "A command often plays the role 14 of an interdiction." The mother seems to express the statement

13 Athene, the patron of Athens, is a fanale deity. 14 Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folktale, trans. Laurence Scott and Louis A. Wagner, 2nd ed. rev. (Austin and London: University of Texas Press, 1968), p.27. -181- quoted below as an interdiction, i.e. you may not leave until you have ny permission, while the son views it as a caimand, i.e. lift the rock and go. "But when you can lift this rock, and shew me what is hidden beneath it, I promise you iry permission to depart"

(p.184).

III. Violation Iheseus turns the rock on its side (p. 186).

Villa. Lack The lack of Theseus' father has been apparent since the beginning of the narrative. Once Theseus has overturned the rock, however, the absence becomes a lack which must be remedied,

"...the time has come.(p.186).

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

Aeiihra dispatches: her son, "...and you must stay no longer at iry side" (p. 186). X. Beginning Counteraction Theseus proclaims, "I will set out for Athens this very day" (p. 187); however, his mother prevails upon him to stay a day or two longer and King Pittheus futilely attenpts to dissuade him from a land route.

XI. Departure Theseus sets out. -182-

Now three brief moves interrupt the main narrative.

VIII. Villainy XVI. Struggle XVIII. Victory XIX. Lack Liquidated 1. Procrustes "entertains" his guests on his bed.

Theseus kills the monster for his inhospitality. 2. Scinis throws his guests over a cliff; Theseus pays the villain in kind by throwing him off the cliff. 3. Theseus defeats an enormous sew. XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival Theseus arrives in Athens where his nephews bid him to appear before his father as a stranger: "They proposed to him that he should cane into the king's presence as a stranger..."

(p. 189). XXIV. Unfounded Claims The nephews inform King Aegeus that Theseus will kill him. XXV. Difficult Task The king orders Theseus to drink the wine poisoned by Medea. XXVI. Solution -183-

XXVTI. Recognition

Aegeus withdraws the wine as he recognizes Iheseus' sword: "'My son! my son!* cried King Aegeus..." (p. 194) .

XXVIII .Exposure

"I have quite forgotten what became of the king’s nephews. But when the wicked Medea saw this new turn of affairs, she hurried out of the room... ” (p. 194) .

XXX. Punishment

Medea anticipates punishment by banishing herself, although her husband is not adverse to executing justice himself:

"The king, hearing the hiss of the serpents, scrambled as fast as he oould to the window, and bawled out to the abominable enchantress never to come back" (p. 194) .

VIII. Villainy

Ihe Athenians must pay human tribute to the Cretans by sacrificing seven young men and seven maidens to the Minotaur

(pp. 196-97) .

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

King Aegeus tells Iheseus of the villainy.

X. Beginning Counteraction "'It is because I am a prince, your son, and the rightful heir of the kingdom, -that I freely take upon me the calamity of your subjects!' answered Iheseus" (p. 197). -184-

XI. Departure Theseus leaves with the other intended victims for

Crete. XII. The First Function of the Donor Ariadne sees Theseus before her father and resolves to help him; she greets Theseus in prison (pp.203-4). XIII. The Hero's Reaction Theseus follows Ariadne. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent. Ariadne provides Theseus with a sword and leads him to the labyrinth via a secret door, and confers on the hero knowledge. She gives him a string so that he will not be lost (p.205).

XV. Guidance Using the string to mark his way, Theseus enters the labyrinth. XVI. Struggle

Theseus encounters the Minotaur (p. 20 8). XVII. Branding Theseus' left side is grazed. XVIII. Victory "Fetching a sword-stroke at him, with all his force, he hit him fair upon the neck, and made his bull-head skip six -185- yards from his human body, which fell dcwn flat upon the ground"

(p.209). XIX. Lack Liquidated "Irmediately, the noon shone out as brightly as if all the troubles of the world, and all the wickedness and the wicked­ ness and the ugliness that infest human life, were past and gone forever" (p. 209). XX. Return Iheseus sets sail for Crete. Ihe fall of Talus into the sea completes his victory.

XXI. Ascent to Hirone Ihe death of Aegeus to ascent the throne, supplanting a king who found rule difficult. In true oedipal fashion, Iheseus sends for his mother— and not for Ariadne— to assist his rule. "Circe's Palace" In "Circe's Palace" appearances can be quite deceiving. Ihe enchantress, Circe, lulls men into a false sense of ease before transforming them into animals. Ihe particular nature of her metamorphizing power is quite apt in this tale for the structure focuses on the ambivalence of man's nature. Man is an animal and yet he is not one. What distinguishes him from his fellow animals is his reason— the very faculty which Ulysses embodies. -186-

Ciroe's isle and palace reflect a tempting exterior which masks the villainy of her magic linking within. The Greek wanderers find her realm green and pleasant after their bout with the hurricane (p. 265) and in the midst of this beautiful island appears an even more impressive palace (p. 267). So far, the environment would seem most benign towards man. Even the lions, tigers, and other beasts seem to be as domesticated as household pets (p. 275). Ihe women who greet them are beautiful, but Eurylochus notices that they may not be human at all. One of the maidens has sea-green hair; another's bodice resembles bark. As an omen that all is not what it seems, he experiences a dreamy sensation. On this island, the distinction between man and animal or even vegetable apparently is breaking dcwn. In the shifting forms of the fountain, the shape of a man in a long robe becomes the figure of a lion, then of a tiger, of a wolf, of an ass, and finally of a pig (p.276). In this progressive degenera­ tion of shapes, the form of a man passes into figures of lesser animals as if there were not substantive difference. Ihe con­ fusion between man and animal seems pronounced even as a wood­ pecker voices a lament, as if he were human. Despite the mystery of these pleasing and yet perplexing appearances, all of the scouting party, except Eurylochus, do not try to probe beneath the agreeable surface of Circe's island. -187-

Such a failure to question surface reality seems most conspicuous. The adventure which Ulysses and his crew have en­ countered before chancing upon Circe's palace stress the necessity of distinguishing appearance from reality. Hawthorne's tale de­ parts from the Odyssey to stress this theme. Even though

Homer's epic locates the Sirens' call after the episode with Circe, in Hawthorne's tale, Eurylochus recalls their enticing song when in Circe's palace: "'Too sweet, indeed!' answered

Eurylochus, shaking his head. 'Yet it was not so sweet as the song of the Sirens, those bird-like cfamsels, who wanted to tenpt us on the rocks, so that our vessel might be wrecked and our bones left whitening on the shore!' " (p.276). Circe's siren-call is predominately visual and gustatory, but despite the difference in sense appeal she poses no less real a threat to the mariners. Significantly, Eurylochus recalls a danger posed by creatures who are antoiguously human; "those bird-like damsels" in art, the sirens are depicted as being part waxen and 15 part bird. Other adventures should warn Ulysses' men of the evil which may hide behind a pleasant exterior. In the fatal

15 See "Sirens" in The Oxford Classical Dictionary, eds. N.G.L. Hairmcnd and H.H. Scullard, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1970), p. 993. -188-

meetlng with the Laestrygonians, a beautiful maiden throws

Ulysses1 men off guard and into the mouths of the ravenous mon­

sters (p. 277) . The hero warns his men how the ordinary milk-diet of the Cyclops suddenly changes into an appetite for hunan flesh

(pp. 269-70). In these episodes with Circe, the Laestrygonians, and the

Cyclops, men— the carnivore— himself becomes the prey. Ulysses recognizes this reversal of the "natural" order and advises his comrades of it: "'That is a matter of taste,'said King Ulysses, 'and, for my own part, neither the most careful fattening nor the daintiest of cookery would reconcile me to being dished at last. My proposal is, therefore, that we divide ourselves into two equal parties, and ascertain, by drawing lots, which of the two shall go to the palace, and beg for food and assistance'" (p.270) . The Greek hero's plan is certainly a wise tactical decision not to commit all of his troops in a single mission but to hold seme in reserve; however, his reasoning also reflects his knowledge of the two-fold role of man as predator and as prey. Despite the experiences with the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians, his gormandizing crew lacks this knowledge. In their haste to be the eaters, they forego their reason and thereby their humanity or at least what­ ever traces of it they may have had. Circe recognized the crew's -189- failing and punishes it by transforming the feasters, sitting on kingly thrones, into the flesh that they had feasted upon, wallowing in the pig's sty: "'Wretches 1' cried she, 'you have abused a lady's hospitality; and, in this princely saloon, your behavior has been suited to a hog-pen! You are already swine in everything but the human form, which you disgrace, and which I myself should be ashamed to keep a moment longer, were you to share it with me'" (p.282). But, if Ulysses' crew deceives itself into believing that man is the predator, Circe errs in believing that man is the prey. For the enchantress, man is basically an animal. At first she cannot comprehend the Greek leader's retention of his humanity despite her spells: "'Wretch,' cried Circe, giving him a smart stroke with her wand, 'how dare you keep your human shape a moment longer. Take the form of the brute whom you most resemble!'" {p.291). When Ulysses triumphs over her, she acknow­ ledges his wisdom: '"Spare me!' cried Circe. Spare me, royal and wise Ulysses! For now I know that thou art he of whom Quicksilver forewarned me, the most prudent of mortals, against whom no enchantments can prevail. Thou only couldst have conquered Circe! Spare me, wisest of men!'" (p.292). Circe is vanquished by Ulysses' wisdcm— a wisdon which comprehends the dual nature of nan. -190-

Ihe structure of the tale defines the nature of the moral villainy— Circe's and the crew's misconceptions concern­ ing the nature of man. I. Absentation Ulysses and his crew have been absent from Ithaca for many years. II. Interdiction Aeolus has given Ulysses the bag of winds and the hero has instructed the crew not to open it. III. Violation "Ihis misfortune was entirely cwing to the foolish curiousity of his shipmates, who, while Ulysses lay asleep, had untied seme very bulky leathern bags, in which they supposed a valuable treasure to be concealed" (p.265).

Villa. Lack Ihe external lack is one of food: "Iheir stock of provisions was quite exhausted, and even the shell-fish began to get scarce; so that they had now to choose between starving to death, or venturing into the interior of the island, where per­ haps some huge three-headed dragon or other horrible monster had his den" (p. 266). Such a physical lack of food accents the principle that nan is an animal. Ihe alternatives for the men are to eat or possibly to be eaten. -191-

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Ulysses' men begin to grunfole, demanding food.

X. Beginning Counteraction "But King Ulysses was a bold nan, as well as a prudent one; and, on the third morning, he determined to discover what sort of place the island was and whether it were possible to obtain a supply of food for the hungry mouths of his oonpanions"

(pp. 266-67). XI. Departure Ulysses leaves, "So, taking a spear in his hand, he clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed roundabout him"

(p.267). XII. Ihe First Function of the Donor Ihe doleful chirp of the bird alerts Ulysses. XIII. Ihe Hero's Reaction "Its unaccountable behavior made him conclude, at last, that the bird knew of some danger that awaited him, and which must needs be very terrible, beyond all question, since it moved even a little fowl to feel compassion for a human being"

(p. 268). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Ihe magical agent consists of the knowledge that the alluring appearance of the palace is a mere mask. -192-

XIX. Lack Liquidated Ulysses obtains a partial liquidation of the lack of food by killing a stag. More importantly his reconnaissance has revealed the distinction between appearance and reality on the island. XX. Return Ulysses returns to the ship. Villa. Lack Ihe lack of crew remains as does the crew's ignorance.

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Ulysses dispatches twenty-three men, drawn by lots,

to go to the palace in search of food. X. Beginning Counteraction Eurylochus draws the lot which says "go."

XI. Departure Eurylochus and his men leave. XII. Ihe First Function of the Donor Ihe bird warns the men. XIII. Ihe Hero's Reaction Ihe men reject the knowledge which the bird offers. One of the men displays his oontenpt for anything but food by saying: "'This troublesome and inpertinent little fowl,' said he, 'would make a delicate tid~b>it to begin dinner with!"" (p.272). -193-

XIX. Lack Liquidated XIX. Lack Not Liquidated Ihe men reach Circe's palace where they fill their bellies

but leave their minds enpty. VIII. Villainy In their very feasting, the crewmen are being victimized by

Cirae's potion (pp.278-82). Because of the crew's lack of knowledge about the proper nature

of humanity, it shares in the villainy: "You are already swine in everything but the human form, which you disgrace, and which I nyself

should be ashamed to keep a moment longer, were you to share it with

me. But it will require only the slightest exercise of magic, to make the exterior conform to the hoggish disposition. Assume your

proper shapes, gormandizers, and begone to the sty!” (p.282).

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Eurylochus tells Ulysses of the villainy.

X. Beginning Counteraction "'As I am your king,' answered Ulysses, 'and wiser than any of you, it is therefore the more ny duty to see what has befallen our oanrades, and whether anything can yet be done to rescue them'" (p. 285).

XI. Departure Ulysses sets out for the palace. -194-

XII. The First Function of the Donor The bird's warnings are new insufficient, but a far mare potent donor appears in the person of Quicksilver.

XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction Ulysses recognizes the god (p.286).

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Quicksilver confers the magical flower on Ulysses as an

antidote to Circe's power.

XVI. Struggle Circe attenpts her magic on the hero but he relies on the

antidote provided by Quicksilver: "King Ulysses took the goblet with his right hand, while with his left, he held the snowwhite flower to his nostrils and drew in so long a breath that his lungs were quite filled with its pure and simple fragrance" (p.291).

XVIII. Victory XIX. Lack liquidated Ulysses draws his sword on Circe and forces her to change his men and King Ficius to their proper forms. Through his wisdom,

Ulysses has demonstrated the rational nature of man. "The Golden Fleeoe" "The Golden Fleece" is one of Hawthorne's longer and more complex

reworkings of classical nythology; nevertheless, the carp lex narrative

centers on the aid that an old woman (Juno in disguise), Athene, and -195-

Medea give to the young hero Jason. In the tale, the wisdom and magic of women complements the natural gallantry of Jason and renders it effective. Early in his infancy, Jason is deprived of feminine care to be reared by Chiron, half-horse and half-man, who instructs the hero in the ways, in medecine, and in the martial arts. Although Chiron's teaching can serve Jason until manhood, the hero needs the example of an old woman to cross a swollen stream. The old woman helps Jason on his way to King Pelias and supplements what the youth had learned from Chiron. The two spears provide Jason with balance but the old woman seems to grant him the strength necessary to cross the stream: "But the briskness of her tone encouraged the young man; and besides, he had never in his life felt so vigorous and mighty, as since taking this old woman on his back. Instead of being exhausted, he gathered strength and went an..." (p.335). Significantly Jason loses a legacy from his father, a golden-tied sandal, while crossing the swollen stream; but the old woman finds in this a reason to rejoice. Her instruction guides the young hero to King Palias* court. The assistance which the old woman lends the hero suggests that she is no ordinary mortal but one of -196- the gods. Hear eyes "as brown as those of an ox" {p.333), the pomegranate in her hand, and the peacock beside her indicate that 16 she is Juno, queen of the gods. 17 Once in the presence of the usurper Pelias, Zeus' prophet, the Talking Tree of Dodona, directs the hero to Athene's auspices.

The Oak instructs the hero to have Argo build the ship and to cut off a branch for the figurehead. An "unseen hand" (p. 342) guides the woodcarver's hand in shaping the branch into an image of Athene.

This figure directs Jason to gather all the heroes of Greece, to launch the ship by Orpheus' harp, and, while on the voyage, to scare off the birds who shoot steel-tipped arrows from their wings.

Just as Juno assisted Jason in crossing the swollen stream, so does Athene help the Argonauts in transversing the swollen seas. In both: situations, the courage and strength of men is powerless unless supported by the wisdom of the goddesses.

16 "Ox-eyed," "peacock," and the "pomegranate" are all associated with Juno. See Charles Mills Gayley, The Classic Myths in English Literature and in Art, 2nd ed.rev. (New Yorlc, Toronto, London: Blaisdell,’ 191177 pp. 22,470. 17 See "Dodona" in The Oxford Classical Dictionary, p.358. -197-

While no goddess, Medea is a woman and an enchantress; her special gift to Jason is the knowledge of how to subdue not the dangers of water tut of land. She teaches the hero to tame bulls, to plough the land, to conquer the issue of the dragon's teeth, and finally how to steal the golden fleece itself. Yet Medea herself remains a puzzle to Jason, a mystery of sex, which he cannot comprehend. Unlike the friendly ox-eyed old woman, Medea's eyes bespeak of an elusive mystery: "Gazing at Medea, he beheld a wonderful intelligence in her face. She was one of those persons whose eyes are full of mystery; so that, while looking into them, you seem to see a very great way, as into a deep well, yet can never be certain whether you see into the farthest depths, or whether there be not something else hidden at bottom" (p.355). In order to accomplish the most difficult task of his age, Jason needs his own masculine virtues ingrained by Chiron, hut the success of his quest depends upon the wisdom and enchantment which Juno, Athene, and Medea provide. I. Absentation "When Jason, the son of the dethroned King of lolcos, was a little boy, he was sent away from his parents, and placed under the queerest schoolmaster that you ever heard of" (p.330). -198-

VIII. Villain/ "But, you are to understand, he had heard hew his father, King Aesan, had been deprived of the kingdom of Ioloos by a certain Pelias, who would also have killed Jason, had he not been hidden in the Centaur's cave" (p.331). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Jason dispatches himself: "At length, being new a tall and athletic youth, Jason resolved to seek his fortune in the world, without asking Chiron's advice, or telling him anything about the matter" (p.331). X. Beginning Counteraction "And, being come to the strength of a man, Jason determined to set all this business to rights, and to punish the wicked Pelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast him down from the throne, and seat himself there instead" (pp.331-32).

XI. Departure '-With this intention, he took a spear in each hand, and threw a lecpard's skin over his shoulders, to keep off the rain, and set forth on his travels, with his long yellow ringlets waving in the wind" (p.332). XII. The First Function of the Donor The old lady asks Jason where heiis going and requests a favor: "Justto take me on your back, there's a good youth, and carry me across the river!" (p.333). -199-

XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction

Jason balks at the request but then the old woman reminds him that the function of kings is "to succor the feeble and distressed" (p. 334); Jason helps her when she enters the stream. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Jason loses a golden—tied sandal, a legacy from his father, but in doing so becomes stronger: "Instead of being exhausted, he gathered strength as he went an..." (pp.335-36). XVI. Struggle Jason presents himself before Pelias. Ihe king fears the one sandaled youth; but, instead of a battle of swords, there is a battle of wits. Pelias strikes the first blew when he says: "'What would you do, brave Jason,' asked he, 'if there were a man in the world, by whom, as you had reason to believe, you were doomed to be ruined and slain - what would you do, I say, if that man stood before, and in your power?'" (p.339).

XVIII. Victory Jason feels conp&lled to give an honest answer: '"I would send such a man,' said he, 'in quest of the Golden Fleece!'" (p.340). Pelias interprets this answer as a victory for himself but, in the course of the narrative, Jason's answer will come to mean a victory far the young hero. Villa. Lack (Desire) Jason's reply reveals the desire to obtain the Golden Fleece. -200-

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Pedlias dispatches Jason: "Go, then, and, at the peril of your own life, bring me back the Golden Fleece" {p.340).

X. Beginning Counteraction Jason replies, "I go!" (p.340).

XI. Departure Jason leaves the king's presence. XII. The First Function of the Donor Realizing that he needs magical’ help to obtain the Golden Fleece, he seeks out the Talking Tree of Dodona. The tree, or a branch of the tree carved into the shape of Athene, gives him sets of directions. 1. "Go to Argus, the ship-builder, and bid him build a galley with fifty oarsI" (p.341). 2. "Cut ms off! And carve me into a figure-head for your galley!" (p.342). 3. "Go sunrnon all the heroes of Greece!" (p.344). 4. "Seat yourselves, and handle the oars, and let Orpheus play upon his harp!" (p.347). 5. "Make a clatter on your shields" (p. 350) in order to drive off the birds who are shooting steel-tipped arrows from their wings. XIII. The Hero's Reaction Jason follcws all of the instructions. -201-

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent By following the orders of the tree and figurehead, Jason is

able to overcome the dangers of the journey. Sub-narratives on the Journey VIII. Villainy IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction XVI. Struggle XVIII. Victory XIX. Lack Liquidated 1. King Cyzicus' domain is attacked by the six-armed giants (p.348). The king tells the Argonauts of the villainy and they resolve to help him. They fight with the giants and beat them. 2. King Phineus is tormented by the Harpies (p.349). Jason and the two sons of the North Wind encounter the harpies and drive them away. Notification The two sons of Fhrixus offer to guide Jason to Colchis and inform him of the dragon guarding the Fleece. XV. Guidance Through the aid of his donors and guides, Jason reaches Colchis.

XVI. Struggle As in the encounter with King Pelias, the struggle with Aetes is one of words. -202-

VIII. Villainy IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident King Aetes obstructs Jason's receipt of the Golden Fleece by demanding that the hero tame his fire breathing bulls and that he

sow the dragon's teeth before he fights the dragon. X. Beginning Counteraction Jason accepts the tasks: "'I must encounter the peril,' answered Jason composedly, 'since it stands in the way of my purpose"1

(p.354). XII. Bie First Function of the Donor Medea approaches Jason and offers her services (p. 355). XIII. Ihe Hero's Reaction Jason promises to be grateful to Medea (p. 355). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Medea gives the hero a charmed ointment to prevent him frcm being burned by the bulls (p. 356); she throws among the warriors sprung from the dragon's teeth so that they will destroy one another (p.361); she obtains a sleeping potion for the dragon (pp.366-67).

XVI. Struggle Jason tames the bulls, sews the dragon's teeth and allows the warriors to overcome themselves; but King Aetes refuses to permit Jason to assault the dragon because the hero had received help from Medea; the hero and Medea ignore Aetes' interdiction and overcome the dragon through a sleeping potion. -203- XVIII. Victory XIX. Lack Liquidated Jason obtains the Golden Fleece. XX. Return The Argonauts set out for hone: "At sight of the glorious

radiance of the Golden Fleece, the nine-and-forty heroes gave a mighty shout; and Orpheus, striking the harp, sang a song of triumph, to the cadence of which the galley flew over the water, homeward bound, as if careering along with wings!" (p.368). -204-

GFOUP II "The Prophetic Pictures" "The Prophetic Pictures" defines artistry as a ocmplex union of paired oppositions: European education and American nature, tine and eternity, God-like creativity and demonic wizardry. The painter enbodies these conflicts, becoming a paradoxical union of God and devil, a time-bound creature iirbued with the awesome power of art. The very motive fdr the painter's visit to America is to complement the training he had received in Europe with the noble, picturesque American people and land: But he had been b o m and educated in Europe. People said that he had studied the grandeur or beauty of conception, and every touch of the master hand, in all the most famous pictures, in cabinets and galleries, and an the walls of churches, till there was nothing more for his powerful mind to learn. Art could add nothing to its lessens*, but Nature might. He had therefore visited a world whither none of his professional brethem had preceded him, to feast his eyes on visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet had never been transferred to canvass (p.194). The artist refuses the lucrative but otherwise unrewarding carniissions of much of the colonial gentry in his romantic search for the uncommon, even choosing, as Wordsworth would, a beggar or a child. He is willing to disappoint Chief Justice and Madam Oliver to paint the engaging portraits of Whiter and Elinor. Not only does he depict lew subjects but he also esteems their critical principles: "He watched the effect that each picture produced on such untutored beholders, and derived profit from their remarks, while they would as soon have thought of instructing Nature herself as him who seemed to rival" (p. 195). The American landscape finishes his education begun by the American people. His Mount Blanc is New England's loftiest mountain and Lake George and Niagara his lake country. Indians and French frontiersman

provide him with personal portraits of the noble and picturesque. Thus, the New World ocrpletes his European education: "Hie glow of perilous moments; flashes of wild feeling; struggles of fierce power, - love, hate, grief, frenxy; in a word, all the worn-out heart of the old earth had been revealed to him under a new form. His portfolio was filled with graphic illustrations of the volume of his memory, which genius would transmute into its own substanae, and imbue with immortality. He felt that the deep wisdom in his art, which he had sought so far, was found" (p.205).

The very essence of. his skill and wisdom is to transmute the time-ridden, ephemeral experience into an eternal - or at least lasting - artistic expression. Hie narrator stresses this effort of art to conquer time: "It is the idea of duration - of earthly inrnortality - that gives such a mysterious interest to our own portraits" (p. 199). Like the narrator, the artist celebrates this eternal aspect of his work, delivering an apostrophe to "Oglorious Art" (p.207) which fuses the earthly and the immortal into one expressive embodiment. But in creating his glorious art, the artist must strike through the paste-board nesk of appearance to penetrate to the very

essence of his subject - an effort that is simultaneously creative -206-

and destructive. Walter Ludlow praises the artist for catching the secret sentiments of his subjects, ironically believing that, in

painting the engaged couple, the painter will freeze the sunshine: '"There we stand,' cried Walter, enthusiastically, 'fixed in sunshine

foreverI No dark passions can gather on our faces'" (p.200); however, the artist has remained true to his profession by not freezing the sunshine but seeing through the superficial to the intrinsic truth. He sees a truth and fixes it in his work as he himself confesses: "The artist - the true artist - must look beneath the exterior. It is his gift - his proudest, but often a melancholy one - to see the inmost soul, and, by a power indefinable even to himself, to make it glow or darken upon the canvas, in glances that express the thought and sentiment of years" (p.202). Such a gift infuses his work with creativity, so much so that he regards Walter and Elinor as his cwn creations. In his own mind at least, he has the power of a

god; but, unlike a god, he has inperfect knowledge of himself: "Reading other bosoms with an acuteness almost preternatural, the painter failed to see the disorder of his awn" {p.207). Without self-knowledge, he is a being isolated from the humanity he shares with others: "He had no aim - no pleasure - no sympathies - but what were ultimately connected with his art" (p. 206). Partaking of the isolation and insight of a god and yet not being one, the artist is in peril of losing his humanity to become a demon. The mob fancies -207- him "a magician, or perhaps the famous Black Man, of old witch times, plotting mischief in a new guise" (p.195). As the artist himself recognizes, the judgments of the people are oftentimes gifted with a natural genuis, When the painter intervenes to step Whiter Ludlow from killing Elinor, he appears as a magician who toys with human lives: "He stood like a magician, controlling the phantoms which he had evoked" (p.209). In manipulating his subjects, however, the artist seems unable to comprehend the human mystery which Elinor sinply but climactically confesses, "But - I loved him!" (p.209). The tale combines two narratives which reflect the airbivalent role of the artist as hero and as villain. In one of the plots, the artist attains aesthetic fruition; in the other he is a wizard exercising his demonic power.

VIII. lack IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure The artist must oonplement his Eruopean education with the inspiration of Nature found in America; he dispatches himself to America to liquidate this lack: "Art could add nothing to its lessons?, but Nature might. He had therefore visited a world,whither none of his professional brethem had preceded him, to feast his eyes an visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet had never been transferred to canvas" (p. 194). -208-

XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction The people function as donors in their untutored critique of his work as does the land itself which reveals to him "all the worn- out heart of the old earth" (p. 205). XI/. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated Because of his interaction with the land, "He felt that the deep wisdom in his art, which he had sought so far, was found" (p.205). Fran interreacting to his vision of Walter and Elinor, he creates the prophetic pictures. Ilis painting finds prophetic and artistic fulfillment as Walter prepares to murder Elinor: "In the action, and in the look of each, -die painter beheld the figures of his sketch. The picture, with all its tremendous coloring was finished" (p.209). Initial Situation In the second plot, the artist functions as a villain. Before getting a closer view of the pictures, Walter feels that his and Elinor's sunshine has been fixed: "'There we stand,' cried Walter, enthusiastically, 'fixed in sunshine forever! No dark passions can geLther on our faces!'" (p.200). But this picture of exaggerated prosperity soon leads to another. -209- VIII. Villainy In achieving his artistic triumph, the artist has isolated himself frcm other humans and, perhaps, become a wizard: "It is not good for man to cherish a solitary ambition. Unless there be those around him by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires, and hopes will become extravagant, and he the semblance, perhaps the reality of a madman: (p.207). "The Great Carbuncle" In "The Great Carbuncle," six individuals and one couple engage in a quest for exclusives possession of a jewel. Such a quest is a specious one as the couple recognize after realizing that the mutual support which they confer upon each other leads to real happiness: "'Yes, dearest!' cried Matthew, pressing her tremulous form to his breast, - 'we will go hence, and return to our humble cottage. The blessed sunshine and the quiet moonlight shall come through our windcw. We will kindle the cheerful glow of our hearth at eventide, and be happy in its light. But never again will we desire more light than all the world may share with us'" (p. 189). Once Hannah and Matthew attain this knowledge, they are able to see the Great Carbuncle in all of its glory as if the gent itself were an etrblem of human love. The six individuals attain neither knowledge nor the jewel. Either they are punished for their lack of brotherhood or they are relegated to a life of innocuous and often rather enpty pursuits. The Seeker is turned to -210- marble for "his inordinate lust" after the Great Carbuncle. Hie O/nic becomes blind and later perishes in the great fire of London. Master Ichabod Pigsnort faces financial ruin and Indian captivity for his naked romps among his shillings. Hie poet's work suffers from a coldness. Lord de Vere fills another coffin in his ancestral hall. Dr. Cacaphodel writes the heaviest folio of the day on granite. Had all of these individuals retained the spirit of community which pronpted them to partake of a ccmnunal meal in the opening of the narrative, perhaps their frustrated search for the Great Carbuncle would have yielded to the more fruitful pursuit of human love. Villa. Lack (Desire) Hie specious quest of the six individuals and the couple is for the Great Carbuncle: "They had ccme thither, not as friends nor partners in the enterprise, but each, save one youthful pair, inpelled by his own selfish and solitary longing for this wondrous gem" (p. 173). Hie real quest of the people should be for brotherhood but the selfish longing for the exclusive possession of the gran suppresses the feeling of oonmunity: "Hiey spread their individual supplies of food on the flat surface of the rode, and partook of a general repast; at the close of which, a sentiment of good fellowship was perceptible among the party, though repressed by the idea, that the renewed search for the Great Carbuncle must make them strangers in the morning" (p. 174). IX. Mediation, -the Connective Incident -211-

X. Beginning Counteraction

XI. Departure

The narrative begins with the heroes enroute. Apparently most of them function as their own dispatchers, their motives for undertaking the quest arising out of their own characters. For his inordinate lust, the Seeker is condemned to wander the mountains.

The wilted and dried Dr. Cacaphodel wants the gem for his scientific research. Master Ichabod Pigsnort is ever on the alert to increase his coffers. The Cynic is resolved to prove that there is no such gen. The poet desires the jewel so that his intellectual powers will be infused with its radiance. Lord de Vere needs the gem to grace his ancestral hall. The couple want the gem to light up their winter evenings.

XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction

Hannah and Matthew help each other up the mountain, thereby strengthening the love that exists between them: "It was a sweet snblem of conjugal affection, as they toiled up the difficult ascent, gathering strength from the mutual aid which they afforded.

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

The couple gain knowledge of the true quest: "'Yes, dearest I' cried Matthew, pressing her trenulous form to his breast, - 'we will go hence, and return to our humble cottage. The blessed sunshine and the quiet moonlight shall come through our windcw. We will kindle the cheerful glow of our hearth at eventide, and be happy in its light. -212-

But never again will we desire more light than all the world may share with us"1 (p. 189).

XVIII. Defeat Because the six individuals have repressed their natural feelings of fellowship, they are not only unsuccessful in their quests but also either punished or abandoned to empty endeavors. XIX. Lack Liquidated Hannah and Matthew are happy for "many peaceful years" (p. 189). "The Shaker Bridal" "The Shaker Bridal" concerns the delicate balance between spirit and flesh, the two forces which constitute man. Once a man forsakes his natural human sympathy in a supposed quest for the spiritual, he loses his humanity. In satisfying his ambition, Adam Colburn suppresses his love for Martha Pierson and by doing so destroys her and dehumanizes himself. The investiture of Adam and Martha as the spiritual parents of the Shaker community is a perversion of the marriage rite for it is not the union of man and woman in love but the climax of the man's rigid anbitions: "He, indeed, had withdrawn his hand from hers, and folded his arms with a sense of satisfied arrbition. But paler and paler grew Martha by his side, till, like a corpse in its burial clothes, she sank down at the feet of her early lover; for, after many trials firmly borne, her heart could endure the weight of its desolate -213- agony no longer" (p.476). Yet Adam's villainy orginates not among the Shakers but in himself. Even before he enters the Shaker community, his concern in advancing himself supersedes his desire for union with Martha - who, unlike her fiance, places love above success - whether it consist of worldly or of Shaker accomplishment: "Even under these circumstances, Martha Pierson would probably have consented to unite her fate with Adam Colburn's, and, secure of the bliss of mutual love, would patiently have awaited the less important gifts of fortune. But Adam, being of calm and cautious character, was loath to relinquish the advantages which a single man possesses for raising himself in the world" (.471). A failure in the world, Adam finds all the success that he wants in the Shaker ccrrmunity - even if such success excludes Martha. When he relinquishes her hand at his moment of triumph, the action signifies not a marriage but a divorce. Adam is not alone in his annulment of human love. The Shaker elders, like himself, revel in a pseudo-victory over what they consider to be the weaknesses of the flesh: "They had overcome their natural sympathy with human frailties and affections. One, when he joined the Society, had brought with him his wife and children, but never, from that hour, had spoken a fond word to the farmer, or taken his best­ loved child upon his knee. Another, whose family refused to follow him, had been enabled - such was his gift of holy fortitude - to leave them to the mercy of the world" (p.474). Perhaps the Shaker men are -214- not alone in their fanatical quest to rid themselves of earthly lust. Even the foundress of the Society had to exorcise human passion frcm the founder: "Tradition whispered, at the firesides of the village, that Mother Ann had been compelled to sear his heart of flesh with a red-hot iron before it could be purified from earthly passions" (p. 474). In losing his flesh, the Shaker does not became an angel but only loses his humanity. Villa. Lack Adam Colburn conceives of the lack as poverty but the real deficiency lies in the shallcwness of his human sympathy: "But, just as they reached a proper age for their union, misfortunes had fallen so heavily on both, and made it necessary that they should resort to personal labor. Even under these circumstances, Martha Pierson would probably have consented to unite her fate with Adad Colburn's, and, secure of the bliss of mutual love, would patiently have awaited the less important gifts of fortune. But Adam, being of a calm and cautious character, was loath to relinquish the advantages which a single man possesses for raising himself in the world" (p. 471). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure Adam dispatches himself an many quests in attempting to earn money: "Year after year, therefore, their marriage had been deferred. -215-

M a m Colburn had followed many vocations, had travelled far, and seen much of the world and life. Martha earned her bread sometimes as a seamstress, seme tines as help to a fanner's wife, sometimes as school mistress of the village children, sometimes as a nurse or watcher of the sick, thus acquiring a varied experience, the ultimate use of which she little anticipated" (p. 471). XIX.* Lack-Not Liquidated "But nothing had gone prosperously with either of the lovers..." (p.471).

Villa. Lack Both lacks remain. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction "He sought an interview with Martha, and proposed that -they

should join the Society of Shakers" (p.472).

XI. Departure "Martha, faithful still, had placed her hand in that of her lover, and accompanied him to the Shaker village" (p.472). XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical -Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated XIX.* Lade Not Liquidated Their prior sufferings function as donors for Martha and Mam, bestowing strength and training which will enable them to overcome -216- their poverty and low position, but not to marry. Adam has all we d the means to marriage with Martha to become his end: "Here the natural capacity of each, cultivated and strengthened by the diffi­ culties of their previous lives, had soon gained them an important rank in the Society whose members are generally below the ordinary standard of intelligence" (p. 472). The last clause of the quotation does little to enhance Mam's triumph. XXXI.* Divorce, Ascent to Throne Adam ascends to the Shaker throne. In achieving this success, however, he does not marry Martha but rejects her: "He, indeed, had withdrawn his hand from hers, and folded his arms with a sense of satisfied airbition. But paler and paler grew Martha by his side, till, like a corpse in its burial clothes, she sank down at the feet of her early lover; for; after many trials firmly borne, her heart could endure the weight of its desolate agony no longer" (p. 476).

"The Threefold Destiny" The narrator of "The Threefold Destiny" prefaces his tale by revealing the two-fold nature of his artistry: "I have sometimes produced a singular and not unpleasing effect, so far as my cwn mind was concerned, by imagining a train of incidents in which the spirit and mechanism of the fairy legend should be combined with the characters and manners of familiar life. In the little tale which follows, a subdued tinge of the wild and wonderful is thrown over a sketch of New England personages and scenery, yet, it is hoped, without entirely -217- obliterating the scber hues of nature" (p. 257). This fusion of everyday life with imagination is the essence of the tale itself. Responding to an idea of his destiny, Ralph Cranfield begins a ten year search for three signs which would mark the fulfillment of his dreams. Once he begins this guest, he becomes a man of imagin­ ation both physically and mentally apart from the townspeople. His decade-long quest is a fruitless one for he has not fused his imagin­ ation with the reality surrounding him. Mien he returns to the town, however, he sees the three signs which mark his destiny: the tree on which he had carved Effode, the hand (p.533) , the jewel which he made for Faith Egerton, the sage of his dreams (i.e. the Squire) metamorphised "to his fancy" (p.535). At the end of the tale, dream and reality unite: "Yes, the wild dreamer was awake at last. To find the mysterious treasure, he was to till the earch around his mother's dwelling, and reap its products! Instead of warlike command, or regal or religious sway, he was to rule over the village children! And now the visionary Maid had faded from his fancy, and in her place he saw the playmate of his childhood" (p. 538). The tale begins in madias res with the return of the unsuccess­ ful hero. The earlier functions are narrated later in the story. Villa. Lack

The hero believes that he has an unfulfilled fate: "Ralph

Cranfield, from his youth upward, had felt himself marked out for a -218- high destiny" (p.528). His real lack, hcwever, centers on his in­ ability to reconcile imagination with reality. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Precisely who functions as the dispatcher remains a mystery as the narrator poses multiple possibilities. "He had imbibed the idea - we say not whether it was revealed to him by witchcraft, or in a dream of prophecy, or that his brooding fancy had palmed its own dictates upon him as the oracles of a Sibyl I - but he had imbibed the idea, and held it firmest among his articles of faith, that three marvelous events of his life were to be confirmed to him by three signs" (p.528). The multiple possibilities stress the interrelation­ ship between imagination and reality. The three destinies are described below. 1. A maid would make the hero happy with her love. He would recognize her by a heart shaped jewel which she would wear on her bosom and by her response, "This token, which I have worn so long, is the assurance that you mayl" (p.529), to his question, "Maiden, I have brought you a heavy heart. May I rest its weight on you?" (p. 529). 2. The hero would find a treasure marked by a hand pointing downward with the Latin inscription Effode written beneath. 3. The hero would acquire extensive influence over his fellow creatures. A man heading a three-member delegation would trace a figure in the air with his cane and then inform Ralph Cranfield of the "heaven-instructed message" (p.530). -219-

XI. Departure

r-“ "With this proud faith before him, in the flush of his imagin­ ative youth, Ralph Cranfield had set forth to seek the maid, the treasure, and the venerable sage with his gift of extended empire"

(p.530). He is gone for ten years.

XIX.* Lack Not Liquidated XX. Fetum "Alas! it was not with the aspect of a triunphant man, who

had achieved a nobler destiny than all his fellcws, but rather with the gloom of one struggling against peculiar and continual adversity, that he now passed homeward to his mother's cottage" (p.530).

XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival "In every foreign clime he had lost something of his New England characteristics; and, perhaps, from every people he had unconsciously borrowed a new peculiarity; so that when the world-wandered again trod the street of his native village it is no wonder that he passed unrecognized, though exciting the curiosity of all" (p.528). XXVII. Recognition Faith Egerton recognized Ralph Cranfield and calls out his name. Such a recognition is extrenely important once the unsuccessful hero has returned for it partakes of the function of a donor. As her name may suggest, Faith remains constant and together with Ralph's mother gives him a sense of home. -22G- XXXI. Wedding, Ascent to Throne Ralph Cranfield finds his destiny at home: "To find the mysterious treasure, he was to till the earth around his mother's dwelling, and reap its products! Instead of warlike command, or regal car religious sway, he was to rule over the village children! And now the visionary Main had faded from his fancy, and in her place he saw the playmate of his childhood!" (p.538).

"Edward Randolph's Portrait"

Terence Martin notes that Hawthorne courts sparse settings to 18 emphasize character. Such a nurturing of sparseness also typifies the narrator of "Edward Randolph's Portrait." In the prologue to this tale, the narrator expresses his preference for the isolated, independent buildings of the past over the presents' mass of homo­ geneity: "The buildings stood insulated and independent, not, as now, merging their separate existences into connected ranges, with a front of tirescme identity, - but each possessing features of its own, as if the owner's individual taste had shaped it, - and the whole presenting a picturesque irregularity, the absence of which is hardly compensated by any beauties of m o d e m architecture" (p. 291). Indivi­ duality has its value in persons as well as in buildings for the

18 "Hawthorne's Public Decade and the Values of Home," AL, 46 (1974), 141-52. -221- narrator prizes his informant for the singularity of his name: "As we touched our glasses together, my legendary friend made himself known to me as Mr. Bela Tiffany; and I rejoiced at the oddity of the name, because it gave his image and character a sort of indivi­ duality in my conception" (p. 293). In the tale which follows the prologue's celebration of individuality, the central opposition confronting Lieutenant- Governor Hutchinson is between duty to the people and duty to the king. Representatives of the people and of the king confront each other in the acting governor's chamber: "Ihere were the Selectmen of Boston, plain, patriarchal fathers of the people, excellent representatives of the old puritannical founders, whose scrrtore strength had stamped so deep an impress upon the New England char­ acter. Contrasting with these were one or two members of Council, richly dressed in the white wigs, the embroidered waistcoats and other magnificence of the time, and making a somewhat ostentatious display of courtier-like ceremonial" (p. 299). Ihe Captain of Castle William, another menber of the popular party, clashes with his aristocratic counterpart, the British major. But not even the contrast of Selectmen with Councilman-, nor of captain with major, depicts the poles as strongly as the "white drapery" (p.300) of Alice Vane's robe with the sable curtain covering the picture of Edward Randolph - the man who secured the repeal of -222-

the first provincial charter. Aliae who is "clad entirely in white"

(p.294) contrast with the dark hues of the royalist’s portrait. Certainly in this opposition of white and dark imagery, the colors represent moral values. The countenanoe of the portrait displays an internal sense of visible darkness; "The torture of the soul had acme forth upon the countenance. It seemed as if the picture, while hidden behind the cloud of iirmemorial years, had been all the time acquiring an intenser depth and darkness of expression, till now it gloomed forth again, and threw its evil omen over the present hour" (p.303). In this moral opposition between the white-robed Alice, the

people's advocate, and the dark hued portrait of the people's betrayer, Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson sides with the party of the devil and suffers the beathbed torment of the damned: "And as for Hutchinson, when, far over the ocean, his dying hour drew on, he gasped for breath, and complained that he was choking with the blood of the Boston

Massacre; and Francis Lincoln, the farmer Captain of Castle William, who was standing at his bedside, perceived a likeness in his frenzied look to that of Edward Randolph" (p.305). While aesthetically the narrator prefers the picturesque irreg­ ularity of the old colonial architecture over modern uniformity, politically the tale stresses the morality of modem democracy over colonial aristocracy. The tale has a moral truth which infuses it with historical validity if not accuracy. Too late, if ever, does the rational Hutchinson sense the validity of this moral truth. At -223- first he objects to the fables surrounding the portrait on the grounds of scientific skepticism: ’"These traditions are folly to one who has proved, as I have, how little of historic truth lies at the bottom,' said the Lieutenant-Governor'" (p.297). He lacks the imaginative power of his niece who responds to the moral of the traditions sur­ rounding the portrait. There are two tales in the story of "Edward Randolph’s Portrait": the tale of the narrator in the prologue and epilogue and the tale proper. I will consider the tale concerning the narrator first. Villa. Lack (Desire) The narrator wants to hear the old gentleman's historical reminiscences. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

X. Beginning Counteraction

The narrator resolves to fulfill his desire: "One idle evening last winter, confident that he would be found in the snuggest comer of the barroom, I resolved to pay him another visit, hoping to deserve well of ny country by snatching from oblivion some else unheard-of fact of history1.' (p. 291). XI. Departure The narrator goes to the Province House. XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction -224-

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

The narrator offers the old gentleman a glass of whiskey punch.

This act functions as an inducement for the donor to bequeath his special gift on the narrator: "The old gentleman's draught acted as a solvent upon his memory, so that it overflowed with tales, trad­ itions, anecdotes of famous dead people, and traits of ancient manners, some of which were childish as a nurse's lullaby, while others might have been worth the notice of the grave historian" (p. 293).

XIX. Lack Liquidated With the tale of "Edward Randolph's Portrait," the narrator's desire for historical reminiscences is fulfilled - at least for the

time being. XX. Return Hie narrator struggles home in an snowstorm. Villa. Lack Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson's villainy proceeds frcm his failure

to respond to the moral significance of the traditions surrounding Edward Randolph's portrait: "'These traditions are folly to one who has proved, as I have, how little of historic truth lies at the bottom,' said the Lieutenant-Governor" (p.297). This failure by the man of understanding to grant the validity of his imagination results in a decision to allow the fortress of Castle William to be occupied by royal troops. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident -225-

X. Beginning Counteraction Alice acts as her own dispatcher and determines to change her uncle1 s mind by evoking the spirit of the portrait: '"Care forth, dark and Evil Shape!1 cried she. 'It is thine hour!"’ (p.299).

XI. Departure Alice withdraws frcm her uncle's chairber.

XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Alice functions as her cwn donor. She may possess magical powers herself: "The Captain of Castle William fancied that the girl's air and mien were such as might have belonged to one of those spirits of fable - fairies, or creatures of a more antique mythology - who seme times mingled their agency with mortal affairs, half in ca­ price, yet with a sensibility to human weal or woe" (p. 299). On the other hand, she may be exercising the skill of renovating paintings Which she may have learned in Italy. In either event, her agency confers the magical agency of the portrait upon herself. Notification Captain Lincoln informs Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson of the portrait. XVI. Struggle Armed with the portrait, Alioe confronts Hutchinson who counters with his own skeptical laugh: "'Girl!' cried he, laughing bitterly as -226- he turned to Alice, 'have you brought hither your painter's art - your Italian spirit of intrigue - your tricks of stage effect - and think to influence the councils of rulers and the affairs of nations by such shallow contrivances? See hear!’" (p.304).

XVIII.* Defeat Hutchinson refuses to respond to the picture - to exercise his imagination - despite the efforts of Alice Vane.

Notification Francis Lincoln tells of Hutchinson's death-bed resemblance to Edward Randolph. "Old Esther Dudley" In the tale of "Old Esther Dudley," the epithet "old" is par­ ticularly apt in describing a character not only who is physically old but who also embodies the ancien regime. In this isolated absorption in the past, she serves as an exemplum of a danger confronting the narrator and perhaps Hawthorne himself. In her the imaginative re­ collection of the past becomes a crazed fancy which has little, if any correlation to the world outside of her fiction. Both rebel and royalist, Hancock and Howe, view Esther Dudley as an historical anomaly, a living fossil. Hancock could hardly be more explicit in his definition of the old woman: "Your life has been prolonged until the world has changed around you. You have treasured up all that time has rendered worthless - the principles, feelings, -227- manners , modes of being and acting, which another generation has flung aside - and you are a symbol of the past. And I, and these around me - we represent a new race of men - living no longer in the past, scarcely in the present - but projecting our lives forward into the future" (p.341). Less exuberent and more irked, even Hancock's royal counterpart views her as an antediluvian remnant: "As the General glanced back at Esther Dudley's antique figure, he deemed her well fitted for such a charge, as being so perfect a representative of the decayed past - of an age gone by, with its manners, opinions, faith and feelings, all fallen into oblivion or scorn - of what had once been a reality but was new merely a vision of faded magnificence" (p. 333). Esther Dudley's vision of a faded magnificence encompasses her whole mind so that all is distorted through the medium of her crazed imaginationi "Living so continually in her own circle of ideas, and never regulating her mind by a proper reference to present things, Esther Dudley appears to have grown partially crazed. It was found that hhe had no right sense of the progress and true state of the Revolutionary War, but held a constant faith that the armies of Britian were victorious on every field, and destined to be ultimately triumphant" (p. 337). People rumor that the old lady can suimon the shades of the past fro m a mirror? but, whether she can or not, her -228- mind itself functions as a mirror of the past reflecting cnly the images of her subjectivity. She ocnmunicates this vision in tales, legends, and sketches to her audience of children, recreating the past so that it lives again for the children: "It would seem as though they had been sitting on the knees of these famous personages, whom the grave had hidden for half a century, and had toyed with the embroidery of their rich waistcoats, or roguishly pulled the long curls of their flowing wigs" (p.336). Thus, in Esther Dudley's crazed immersion in the past, she is successful raconteur; yet, in her isolation from the community, she appears less as a human and more as a symbol of decayed history. Such a danger threatens the successful narrator of the "Legends of of the Province House who forces himself to abandon his source of literature for the dense crowds of Washington Street. Perhaps the narrator's recognition of this peril accounts for his abrupt decision to quit his informant and friend. The last sentence of the epilogue reflects a haste as if the Province House sounds a Siren call to which the narrator must not succumb: "But as no such vision was vouchsafed, I retired unbidden, and would advise Mr. Tiffany to lay hold of another auditor, being resolved not to show ity face in the Province House for a good while hence - if ever" (p. 342). Although the narrator prefaces his tale with a remark that

"The tale itself is a mere sketch, with no involution of plot..." (p.329), the tale-sketch does exhibit significant narrative elements; -229-

however, the prologue to the tale does not have as significant a role as it did in the first two legends of the Province House.

Villa. Lack Certainly for loyalists the evacuation of the British would indicate the initial misfortune; "The hour had care - the hour of defeat and humiliation - when Sir William Howe was to pass over the threshold of the Province House, and embark, with no such triurrphal

ceremonies as he once promised himself, on board the British fleet" (p. 329); however, for the loyalist Esther Dudley the specific lack lies in her absorption in the past, "as being so perfect a representa­

tive of the decayed past" (p.333). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident At first it would seem as if old Esther would announce her misfortune to Howe who in turn would heroically attempt to remedy it, but the old lady's obstinacy blockdsthis narrative pattern. Instead Howe functions as the dispatcher and Esther as the heroine (perhaps Howe's annoyance derives from his vexation over this reversal of roles). Sir William entrusts her with a duty: "Take this key, and keep it safe until myself, or some other Royal Governor, shall demand it of you" (p. 332). Earlier Howe wished that there be a bloodstain on the floor to witness loyalty to the King. Unknowingly, Esther will fulfill this wish. Significantly, however, there is no mediation of her real lack, her imnersicn in the past, until the end. -230-

X. Beginning Counteraction Although this function is not explicitly narrated, Esther does accept her task as is evident from the end of the tale: "'I have been faithful unto death,' murmured she" (p.341). XI. Departure - Work Esther remains in-the Province House as the Revolution goes on. In a sense, the world leaves Esther as she withdraws into her mental world: "So Esther Dudley dwelt year after year in the Province House, still reverencing all that others had flung aside, still faithful to her King, who, so long as the venerable dame yet held her post, might be said to retain one true subject in New England, and one spot of the enpire that had been wrested from him" (p. 334). XII.* The First Function of the Donor

XIII.* The Hero's Reaction XIV.* Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent None of these functions pertain to the real lack, but they do serve to fulfill her need of "loyal" carp any. According to rumor, she has a magic mirror (she acts as her own donor) through which she can sumron dead royalists.

XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated The entry of Governor Hancock into the Province House indicates that the British will not return and that Esther remains faithful unto death to her own isolated immersion in the past: "Your life has been prolonged until the world has changed around you. You have treasured -231- up all that time has rendered worthless - the principles, feelings, manners, modes of being and acting, which another generation has flung aside - and you are a symbol of the past" (p. 341). By her death, however, Esther Dudley has shed the blood on the portal of the Province House which Howe had called for. "The Birthmark" For all of his scientific knowledge, Aylmer's folly in "The Birthmark" lies in a fundamental misconception of human nature. His monistic aspirations for perfection cannot fathom man's dualistic union of angelic spirit and earthly substance; in attempting to render Georgiana perfect, the scientist upsets the equilibrium between spirit and matter and destroys her. The narrator frames his story with explanations of the bipolar union between spirit and flesh which constitutes man. Georgiana's birthmark, which Aylmer seeks to dissolve, signifies the mark of her humanity; "The fatal hand had grappled with the mystery of life, and was the bond by which an angelic spirit kept itself in union with a m o mortal frame" (p.69); "The crimson hand expressed the ineludible gripe in which mortality clutches the highest and purest of earthly mould, degrading them into kindred with the lowest, and even with the very brutes, like whan their visible frames return to dust" (p.50). In the midst of the narrative itself, Aminadab serves as an incar­ nation of man's physical nature, thereby countering the spirituality -232- of his master: "With his vast strength, his shaggy hair, his smoky aspect, and the indescribable earthiness that incrusted him, he seemed to represent man's physical nature; while Aylmer's slender figure, and pale, intellectual face, were no less apt a type of the spiritual element" (p.55). According to the narrator's schema, neither the scientist nor the assistant is complete within himself. In this tale of Aylmer's folly, however, it is the scientist who errs in not recognizing the role his assistant plays in constituting human nature. In his laboratory, the scientist seeks to seclude himself from the mundane, even excluding sunshine (p.56). Even Aylmer, the representative of man's spiritual element, is bound by the limitations of his flesh. His greatest scientific discoveries have a bitter-sweet quality about them, revealed in his journal: "The volume, rich with achievenents that had won renown for its author, was yet as melancholy a record as ever mortal hand held penned. It was the sad confession and continued exemplification of the shortcomings of the composite man, the spirit burdened with clay and working in matter, and of the despair that assails the higher nature at finding itself so miserably thwarted by the earthly part" (pp.61-62). Aylmer can produce airy figures, bodiless ideas, ephemeral flowers, inperfect photography, powerful coanetics and poisons, even the removal of Georgiana's birthnark; but he cannot or -233- will not realize the inherent dualisn of human nature, posited by the narrator. He has scientific knowledge but not wisdcm: "Yet, had Aylmer reached a profound wisdcm, he need not thus flung away the happiness which would have woven his mortal life of the self­ same texture with the celestial. The momentary circumstance was too strong for him; he failed to look beyond the shadowy scope of time, and, living once for all in eternity, to find the perfect future in the present" (p.69). Paradoxically, had Aylmer recognized the terrestial in man, he would have attained the celestial; how­ ever, he did not. The structure of the tale suggests a two part form. Aylmer attempts to liquidate the apparent lack of perfection in his wife and is successful. However successful Aylmer may be in perfecting his wife's beauty, he kills her. The shallow quest for perfection reveals Aylmer's lack of wisdom. Initial Situation The opening paragraph describes the intense love of science characteristic of the latter part of the eighteenth century. In this atmosphere of electrifying discoveries, Aylmer's love of science and belief in its efficacy seem fitting. With his faith in science and marriage to a beautiful wife, his happiness would seem perfect.

Villa. Lack The scientist is disconcerted over what he feels is a flaw in his wife's beauty: "'Georgiana,' said he, 'has it never occurred to -234-

you that the mark upon your cheek might be removed?"' (p.48). Such dissatisfaction with a mark of mortality reveals his own lack of wisdcm. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Georgiana functions as the dispatcher, delivering this ulti­ matum to her husband: "Either remove this dreadful hand, or take ny wretched life!" (p.52). X. Beginning Counteraction Aylmer accepts his wife's dictate, unaware that he will convert Georgiana's "either.. .or" proposition to a "both.. .and" one. He has full confidence in the ability of his science to correct Nature's inperfections: "Georgiana, you have led me deeper than ever into the heart of science. I feel myself fully competent to render this dear cheek as faultless as its fellow; and then, most beloved, what will be ny triunph when I shall have corrected what Nature left imperfect in her fairest work.' Even Pygmalion, when his sculptered woman assumed life, felt not greater ecstasy than mine will be" (p.53). XI. Departure Aylmer and Georgiana seclude themselves in the apartments where he had won scientific fame, "As he led her over the threshold of the laboratory..." (p.54). XII. The First Function of the Donor For Aylmer, science itself is the donor which will confer the magic agent. He tells Georgiana that science can discover the philos­ -235- opher's stone the elixir of life, and things perhaps greater. He himself has perfected "the most precious poison that ever was con­ cocted in this world" {p.59) as well as powerful cosmetics. For all of his exuberant boasting, however, he seems, like Dr.

Rappaccini, to be most successful in producing poisons. Aminadab could furnish M s master with knowledge of the flesh. XIII. The Hero's Reaction While interacting with M s donor, science, Aylmer has worked laboriously but not without grief: “The volume, rich with acMeve- ments that had won renown for its author, was yet as melancholy a record as ever mortal hand had penned" (p.61). The scientist disregards Amin ad ab. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

Aylmer’s relationsMp with her donor is an on-going one. When Georgiana goes to M s laboratory, he has not as yet discovered the proper magical agent: "I have already administered agents power­ ful enough to do aught except to change your entire physical system. Only one thing remains to be tried. If that fails us we are ruined" (p.64). Although M s preliminary efforts have been fruitless, he persists. Finally he returns with a crystal goblet full of a color­ less but bright liquid w M c h will be the effective magical agent. XIX. Lack Liquidated XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated The scientist abolishes M s wife's imperfection, "SuccessI -236-

Success I And new it is like the faintest rose color" (p.68). In abolishing the imperfection, he has oonanitted an unwitting villainy. In the end, we do not knew whether or not his wife's death confers the knowledge of man's dualistic nature. "Hie Intelligence Office" "The Intelligence Office" occupies a middle ground between what man is and What he wants to be. Whether for a better job or for a lost soul, people call on the grave man with a pair of myster­ ious spectacles on his nose and a pen behind his ear to inquire of their prospects. His ledger records the tension between reality and desire - the discontent characteristic of man. The syntagmatic order of this story is quite simple. Men come to the Man of Intelligence, seeking him as a donor, but he can bestow his gift of knowledge only to the one seeking truth: '"Yours is a mind,' answered the Man of Intelligence, 'before which the inner idea from the multitude vanish at once and leave the naked reality be­ neath. Knew, then, the secret. My agency in worldly action, ny con­ nection with the press, and tumult, and intermingling, and development of human affairs, is merely delusive. The desire of man's heart does for him whatever I seem to do. I am no minister of action, but the Recording Spirit'" (p.379-80). Thus, each one of the characters in the story (other than the Man of Intelligence) experiences a lack or desires something (Villa.), realizes the lack or desire (IX.), decides -237- up on counteraction (X.), visits the Man of Intelligence (XI.), in the hope of finding a donor (XII.); but only the person seeking Truth requests information which the Intelligencer can provide and asks the only question which will reveal the secret (XIII.) and receives the magical gift of knowledge (X3V.) , fulfilling the object of his quest (XIX.). "The Great Stone-Faoe" The major issue which shapes "The Great Stone Face" concerns the ability to perceive wherein moral meaning lies. Does it rest in traditional, worldly accomplishments or in a way of life more humble and more charitable? The problem of perception afflicts the people of the valley so that they vary in their ability to see the figure lucidly: "But all of them, grown,people and children, had a kind of familiarity with The Great Stone Face, although sane possessed the gift of distinguishing this grand natural phenomenon more perfectly/ than many of their neighbors" (p.413). More important in this tale, however, is the ability to perceive who is the incarnation of the principle underlying the stone monument. Aside frcm Ernest, the people mistakenly accept three different man as the embodiment of the Great Stone Face, using three different criteria of greatness: Gathergold (wealth as the standard), Old Blood-and-Thunder (military glory), and Old Story Phi is (political success and statesmanship). The people dismiss each of these versions of greatness. The people delude themselves into a false inpress ion and only Ernest maintains an empathy with the mountain which keeps his vision free of the errors of his countrymen. Even Ernest, though, cannot -238- perceive his own heroic stature. Only the poet, a man who has lived "among poor and mean realities" (p.436), can first see the image of the Great Stone Face in Ernest. Thus, paradoxically, the man who embodies true greatness - moral greatness - remains blind to his awn reality. Perhaps humility prevents Ernest from seeing himself as great. Initial Situation The opening scene describes the countenance of the Great Stone Face and the influence it exerted on the people beneath it: "It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble, and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its affections, and had room for more" (p.414). Villa. Lack "At all events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared" (p.415). Necessarily prior to the appearance of the great man is sate perception of a criterion for greatness. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Ernest's mother tells him of the prophecy. X.* Beginning Counteraction Ernest does not consciously seek to liquidate the lack and ful­ fill the function of a hero but wishes only to see the man of the prophecy, "I do hope that I shall live to see hind" (p.416). Such -239- apparent passivity does not usually distinguish the active hero who consciously decides cm counteraction. ‘.Through an unconscious as­ similation of the meaning of the Great Stone Face, Ernest becomes a seeker-hero. XI.* Departure Ernest does not make physical journey but he does undergo a pilgrimage of the mind which brings him to the very essence of the Great Stone Face: "And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was always in his mind, whenever he looked upon the

Great Stone Face" (p.416). XII. The First Function of the Donor "Yet Ernest had had no teacher, save only that the Great Stone

Face became one to him" (p.416). XIII. The Hero's Reaction The youth grows in his receptivity to the stimulus that the

Great Stone Face provides: "When the toil of the day was over, he would gaze at it for hours, until he began to imagine that those vast features recognized him, and gave him a smile of kindness and encourage­ ment, responsive to his cwn look of veneration’1 (p.416). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lade Liquidated Ernest receives the love that infuses the monument: "But the secret was that the boy's tender and confiding simplicity discerned -240- what other people could not see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, became his peculiar portion" (p. 416). The receipt of this gift of love works on Ernest in stages, culminating in his fulfillment of the prophecy. 1. "In this manner, frcm a happy yet often pensive child, he grew tip to be a mild, quiet, unobtrusive ooy, and sun-ircwned with labor in the fields, but with more intelligence brightening liis aspect tiian is seen in many lads who have been taught at famous sciiools" (p. 416). 2. "The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a young man now. ... They (i.e. the people of the Valley) knew not that the Great Stone Face had becane a teacher to him, and tliat tlie sentiment which was expressed in it would enlarge the young man's heart, and fill it with wider and deeper sympatiiies than other lie arts" (p. 421). 3. "But he had thought and felt so much, he had given so many of the best hours of this life to unworldly hopes for some great good for mankind, that it seemed as though he had been talking with the angels and had imbibed a portion of their wisdom unawares" (p.426). 4. "He was an aged man. But not in vain had he grown old: "More than the white hairs on his head were the sage thoughts in his mind..." (p.431). As the poet says at tlie end of tlie narrative, Ernest has becane tlie man of the prophecy. -241-

XXIV.* Unfounded Claims This function is trebled. Each one of the false heroes dis­ plays the traditional acoonplishments of a hero. Each leaves hone,

anasses fame and/or wealth, and returns triumphant. None of them is the true hero. 1. Mr. Gathergo Id (pp. 418-21). 2. Old Blood-and-TlHinder (pp.422-26). 3. Old Stony Phiz (pp.427-30).

XXVIII.* Exposure The people realize their error in accepting the false heroes.

1. Mr. Gathergold (pp.421-22). 2. Old Blood-and-Tliunder (p.427).

3. Old Stony Phiz (p.431). Functions XXIV. and XXVIII. actually occur in tiie narrative before XIX. is completed or before XXVII. occurs.

XXVII. Recognition The recognition of Ernest is the sphere of action of the poet who becomes the notifier and emblem of an artistic perception which can see moral greatness but not embody it; however, tlie hero does not re­ cognize his own stature. "Hie Sncw-Image" In "Hie SnovKBnage," tne fundanental antithesis governing the

tale's structure lies in the opposition of a creative imagination to a mundane practicality. The attributes of the imagination are a child­

like faith, an aesthetic nature closely allied to flowers, and an -242- appreciation of the cold while the qualities of practicality center on a predilection for warmth, hardward, and conmon-sense. The father's mundane practicality assumes the villain's sphere of action as ha in­ advertently destroys the work of the children's imagination but the two poles remain so far apart that he is not aware of his villainy. The children and, to a lesser extent, the mother possess an aesthetic nature which shapes their being. The two children seem to be flowers personified: "The elder child was a little girl, whom, because she was of a tender and modest disposition, and m s thought to be very beautiful, her parents, and other people who were familiar with her, used to call Violet. But her brother was known by the style and title of Peony, on account of the ruddiness of his broad and round little phiz, which made everyone think of sunshine and great scarlet flowers" (p. 391). Violet and Peony complement one another as a fe­ male and a male representatives of a child-like imagination. While creating the snow-image, Peony is the laborer while Violet is the guiding spirit (p.396). As observer of this flower-like dedication to beauty, the mother shares sane of the children's attributes: "The mother's character, on the other hand, had a stain of poetry in it, a trait of unworldly beauty, - a delicate and dewy flower, as it were, that had survived out of her imaginative youth, and still kept itself alive amid the dusty realities of matrimony and motherhood" (p.391). Because she had retained a "heart full of chi Id “like simplicity and faith" (p.406), she has a perspicacity that others lack. The vision -243- of the children and, on a lower scale, of the mother enable them to create a magic out of the cold snow: "To look at them, ffrolicking in the wintry garden, you would have thought that the dark and pitiless storm had been sent for no other purpose but to provide a new plaything for Violet and Peony; and that they themselves had been created, as the snow-birds were, to take delight only in the tempest, and in the white mantle which it spread over the earth"

(p. 392). On the other hand, Mr. Lindsey wants to do nothing other than to get out of the cold. He cannot understand why his family would be outside in such weather: "His eyes brightened at the sight of his wife and children, although he could not help uttering a word or two of surprise, at finding the whole family in the open air, on so bleak a day, and after sunset too" (p.404). He expends a great deal of time and effort chasing after the snow-image in order to bring the creature inside. Once he has cornered the stranger, he does his utmost to insure warmth: "I have caught you at last, and will make you comfortable in spite of yourself" (p. 407). He dresses his captive guest in worsted stockings and shawl, places her in front of a stove that heats the roan to eighty degrees, and orders a hot supper for her. In his benevolently practical concern far the snow- image's welfare, he cannot see what she really is. He is as blind to imagination as the iron-ware he sells: "With a heart about as -244- tender as other people's, he had a head as hard and impenetrable, and therefore, perhaps as empty, as one of the iron pots which it was a part of his business to sell" (p.391) . Unlike his children who have an aesthetic sense, Mr. Lindsey possesses a business sense which ultimately can only have the maid sop up the mess that the children have made. In the tale's form, the children dominate the first move and the father, functioning as villain, dominates the second move.

I. Absentation The children go out to play: "One afternoon of a cold winter's day, when the sun shone forth with chilly brightness, after a long storm, two children asked leave of their mother to run out and play in the new-fallen snow" (p.391) . Villa. Lack (Desire) IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Violet's imperative address to her brother announces her desire: "Let us make an image out of snow,— an image of a little girl,— and it shall be our sister, and shall run about and play with us all winter long" (p.393). X. Beginning Counteraction Peony's affirmative response - "Oh yes!" - initiates the work.

XI.* Departure Quite obviously the children do not physically remove themselves -245- very far from hone, but they do enter the imaginative realm of the cold and consciously separate themselves from the warmth of the parlor: "'Yes,' answered Violet; * mamma shall see the new little girl. But she must not make her came into the warm parlor; for, you know, our little snow-sister will not love the warm'" (p.393). XII.* The First Function of tlie Donor The thoughts of the mother suggest the activity of a donor: "The mother, as she listened, thought how fit and delightful an incident it would be, if fairies, or still better, if angel-children were to come from paradise, and play invisibly with her own darlings, and help them to make their snow-image, giving it the features of celestial babyhood!" (p.396).

XIII. The Hero's Reaction Violet and Peony seem to have responded to the possible donor as they "wrought together with one happy consent" (p.396). The child­ ren kiss the snow-image (p. 399). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated The snow-image cares to life and kisses Peony. The children announce their triumph to their mother: "Mammal mamma! Mb have finished our little snow-sister, and she is running about the garden with us!" (p.400). -246-

Initial Situation A substantial part of the narrative (pp.400-3) describes the joy that the children experience with their new friend before the approach of the father who becomes a villain through his blindness to imagination. IV. Reconnaissance "'Pray, what little girl may that be?' inquired -this very man" (p.404). V. Delivery ’"My dear husband,1 said his wife, 'I know no more about the little thing than you do. Some neighbor's child, I suppose. Our Violet and Peony,' she added, laughing at herself for repeating so absurd a story, 'insist that she is nothing but a snow-image, which they have been busy about in the garden, almost all the afternoon *"

(p.404). VI. Trickery In Propp's scheme, the villain may also use coercion in lieu 19 of trickery to take possession of the victim. The father asserts his authoriiy by telling the children, "Poh, nonsense..." (p.405).

19 Propp, p.20. -247-

VII. Conplicity After an ineffectual protest, the mother and the children

submit to the father's coercion. VIII. Villainy The father comers the sncw-image, brings her into the warm house, clothes her, sets her beside the stove, and orders a hot supper for her. The man of cannon sense does not even realize what he has done. "The Miraculous Pitcher" "The Miraculous Pitcher" celebrates the simple life, exempli­ fying empathy with nature and observance of the laws of hospitality. Old Philemon and his equally aged wife are separated fran the villagers by more than the short distance which divides the old couple's cottage from the town itself. The villagers respect only wealth and persecute poor travelers; Philemon and Baucis are content to share their frugal meal with the poorest person who would journey by their door.

The first paragraph manifests the discrepancy between the serenity of the old couple's elemental sympathy with nature as opposed to Ihe raucous violation of hospitality which characterizes the the villagers: "One evening, in times long ago, old Philemon and his old wife Baucis sat at their cottage-door, enjoying the calm and beautiful sunset. They had already eaten their frugal supper, and intended now -248- to spend a quiet hour or two before bedtime. ... But the rude shouts of children and the fierce barking of dogs, in the village near at hand, grew louder and louder; until, at last, it was hardly possible for Baucis and Philemon to hear each other speak" (p. 118). The barking and shouting derives from the villagers' custom of driving poor travelers from their midst with their dogs and children. The villagers will deny their fierce dogs and stone throwing progeny only to the rich so that the townsmen may profit from filling the bellies of the wealthy. In contrast, the old couple will give a crust of bread to the poor even if it is necessary to deny themselves. With such broad moral differences, the lively and loquacious Quicksilver and his elder, graver companion have little trouble in judging the respective merits of the old couple and the villagers. The latter group, whose children already resemble curs (p. 121), physi­ cally becane sub-human to parallel their moral degeneration; "'And as far those foolish people,' said Quicksilver, with his mischievous smile, 'they are all transformed to fishes. Ihere needed but little change; for they were already a scaly set of rascals, and the ooldast- blooded beings in existence'" (p. 135). On the other hand, Baucis and Philemon find their poverty alleviated by the transformation of their pitcher into a cornucopia of nectar and the metamorphosis of their cottage into a palace of hospitality. Finally, in contrast to the degeneration of the villagers into fish, the old couple extend their -249- life in the embrace of an oak and a linden-tree, emblematic of their union with each other and their empathetic harmony with nature: "It was plain enough to perceive, that the good old couple had renewed their age; and were now to spend a quiet and delightful hundred

years or so, Philemon as an oak, and Baucis as a linden-tree. And, Oh, what a hospitable shade did they fling around them;" (p. 137) . Villa. Lack The villagers' cruelty towards poor travelers indicates a lack of humanity. Because this lack seems to be a culpable one, it con­ stitutes a villainy. Baucis and Philemon also suffer from a lack— a lack of wealth and even sustenance. Because this lack is not a culpable one, it does not constitute a villainy. Indeed it seams to make than appreciative of the simple joys of nature, such as watching the sunset and to reinforce their basic humanity.

XII. The First Function of the Donor Mercury and Jupiter appear as humble and weary travelers— an implicit request for hospitality. XIII. The Hero's Reaction The villagers drive out the beggar-gods with their dogs and

children. Baucis and Philemon go out to greet the strangers, "Welcome, strangers, welcome!" (p. 122) , and then share their food with them. -250- XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The gods reward the old couple: "'As for you, good Philemon,' continued the elder traveller, - 'and you, kind Baucis - you, with your scanty means, have mingled so much heartfelt hospitality with your entertainment of the homeless stranger, that the milk became an inexhaustible fount of nectar, and the brown loaf and the honey were ambrosia" (p.135). Baucis and Philemon are granted their request to die at the same time and their cottage is transformed into a palace. Later they become an oak and a linden tree to serve as shade for their guests (pp. 135-37). XVIII. Victory The villagers' villainy is punished by their becoming fish. XIX. Lack Liquidated Baucis and Philemon no longer lack the means to satisfy their guests. "The Dragon's Teeth"

In "Hie Dragon's Teeth" there is a fundamental opposition between settlement and pursuit. Such a tension may express a vestigial tension between the nomadic life of the hunt and the more settled life of agriculture. Hie tale opens with a very simple pattern of pursuit versus sedentary rest. Europa's three brothers chase a butterfly while she sits and closes her eyes. A snow-white bull disturbs her rest. At -251- first she calls for help but soon steps as she thinks him to be harm­ less: "And the bull ran little races, and capered sportively around the child; so -that she quite forgot how big and strong he was, and, from the gentleness and playfulness of his actions, soon came to con­ sider ham as innocent a creature as a pet-lairb" (p.235). Europa can feed the animal and finally feels so much at ease that she consents to taking just one gallop "on the back of this docile and friendly animal, who would certainly set her down, the very instant she desired it" (p.232). Despite its domesticated appearance, the beautiful bull is still not under the girl's control but treacherously carries her off bo the sea, possibly implying that neither man nor animal is prepared for demostication. The bull, who in the classical myth from which the story derives is actually Jove in disguise, ' initiates a chase which lasts till the end of the tale. Significantly this tale does not stress, nor hardly even suggest, that the bull is merely a camouflage so that the king of the gods can satisfy his lust for mortal women. The motives for the animal's rape of Europa remain mysterious. The villainy initiates a pattern of action in which Phoenix, Cilix, Thasus, Queen Telephassa, and Cadmus pursue Europa and then successively abandon this pursuit to establish cities or in Queen Telephassa's case to die. While questing for the girl, the four occasionally stop to rest at farms, work for the husbandman, but do not accept payment (pp.241-42). Certainly agriculture is well estab­ -252- lished in the lands that they travel through, but they must hunt a bull, abandoning the chase only because of fatigue. Phoenix and Cilix weary of the quest and end it to establish cities— yet retain a sense of guilt. Thasus suffers a sprained ankle (a relatively minor injury in view of the length of the chase I) and stops to found a city. Later he attempts one last futile search and then settles in his throne but orders that a fire, bath, and food be ready for Europa should she cane (pp.246-47). Telephassa's hunt ends in death; signi­ ficantly the only member of the quest from the older generation dies and does not found a city. Only the young can end their hunt by establishing a new life. Cadmus remains, however. His pursuit is ended only by the oracle of Delphi which orders the hero to follow a cow until she lies down. The bull's rape of Europa initiated the action but Cadmus' foilwi n g of a cow will end it— but only after more struggle. A dragon kills his new-found companions and his hopes for a settlement:

"And here he was, after all his toils and troubles, in a solitary place, with not a single human being to help him build a hut" (p. 258). After he kills the dragon, a voice tells Cadmus to sow the dragon's teeth; thus, his city will spring from agriculture. The warriors who sprout frcsn these strange seeds are hardly fit for a ;sattled life of agri­ culture. They are more inclined towards nomadic pillaging: "The five soldiers grumbled a little, and muttered that it was their husi- -253-

ness to overthrow cities, not to build them up" (p.262). Cadmus, however, trains the five in honest labor and tries to school his children in the ways of civilization by inventing and then teaching

the alphabet. Thus, the hunt after a deceivingly domesticated bull results in the founding of cities and the advance of culture. Be­ fore the hero can settle down and asoend his throne, he must be the wandering huntsman overcoming the dangers of the chase. I. Absentation Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix set off in pursuit of a butterfly vhile Europa remains (p. 235). II. Interdiction Europa's first instinct is to fear the bull; the implied inter­ diction is that one must fear a bull.

III. Violation She foregoes her fear, thinking the bull to be as tame as a "pet-lamb" (p. 235).

VI. Trickery This function is intimately involved with both III., Violation, and VII., Complicity. The bull appears tame so that the girl will not be afraid to mount him.

VII. Complicity "But then she considered, in her wise little head, that there oould be no possible harm in taking just one gallop on the back of -254-

this docile and friendly animal, would certainly set her down

the very instand she desired it" (pp. 236-37). VIII. Villainy

The bull carries Europa off to the sea.

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident King Agenor commands his sons to find his daughter: "'Never

shall you see my face again,' cried he, 'unless you bring me back my little Europa, to gladden ms with her smiles and her pretty ways. Begone, and enter my presence no more, till you come leading her by the hand!1" (p.239).

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure The three sons, joined by Queen Telephassa, and their friend

Thasus, set out. This quest is not successful and is gradually re­ linquished by each of the heroes. The first move yields to the next.

Villa. Lack With Telephassa's approaching death, Cadmus lacks a purpose. The quest for Europa has been fruitless. IX. Mediation, the Connective Indioent Queen Telephassa tells her son: "But, when thou hast laid thy mother in the earth, then go, my son, to Delphi, and inquire of the

oracle what thou shalt do next" (p.249). -255-

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure "After performing this last sorrowful duty, he set forth alone, and took the road towards the famous oracle of Delphi, as Telephassa had advised him" (p. 249). XII. The First Function of the Donor The oracle tests Cadmus' endurance (and perhaps credulity) by telling him to follow the ccw and to establish his heme at the place where the ocw rests. XIII. The Hero's Reaction Cadmus obeys the oracle and follows the ocw. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated By following the ocw, Cadmus finds an area he can call home: "This is to be our heme. Here we will build our habitations. The brindled cow, which has led us hither, will supply us with milk. Vfe will cultivate the neighboring soil, and lead an innocent and happy life" (p.256). VIII. Villainy The dragon of the spring devours his friends.

X. Beginning Counteraction "But Cadmus was so enraged at the destruction of his friends, that he cared neither for the size of the dragon's jaws, nor far his hundreds of sharp teeth" (p.257). -256-

XVI. Struggle XVIII. Victory Cadmus Kills the dragon.

Villa. lack "And here he was, after all his toils and troubles, in a solitary place, with not a single human being to help him build a hut" (p. 258). XII. Hie First Function of the Donor "'Cadmus!' said avoid - but whether it came from above or below him he could not tell, or whether it spoke from his breast, the young man could not tell - 'Cadmus, pluck out the dragon's teeth, and plant than in the earth!'" (p.258). XIII. Hie Hero's Reaction Cadmus follows the advice of the voice in all particulars.

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. Lack Liquidated Cadmus obtains the services of the five soldiers to build his city find then receives a magnificent palace. XXXI. Ascent to Throne, Marriage. Cadmus weds Harmonia . and rules over his city. GROUP III.

"The Gentle Boy" "The Gentle Boy" develops its narrative from three basic oppositions: Quaker ungovemed and even unnatural enthusiasm versus Puritan intolerance and militaristic rigidity, pagan Christianity versus Christian barbarism, and a spiritual aspect versus an earthly 20 one. The last of these conflicts subsumes the other two as ungov­ e m e d enthusiasm, intolerance, and Christian cruelty are all parts of the chaos of earthly life while the true spiritual life manifests none of this uproar. Because I Ibrahim's gentle spirituality is not compatible with the brutality surrounding him, his death transports him to his heavenly heme. Perhaps only the rational piety of Dorothy Pearson can reconcile the dichotomy between heaven and earth to es­ tablish an integrated, truly human nature. Quaker enthusiasm manifests itself as a masochistic revelry in persecution so that it becomes a near madness: "Their enthusiasm heightened almost to madness by the treatment which they received, produced actions contrary to the rules of decency, as well as of

20 Certainly other conflicts are present. For an interesting discussion of the conflict between the Old Vforld and the New in this tala, see Michael Davitt Bell, Hawthorne and the Historical Romance of New England (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971) , pp.110-17. -258-

rational religion, and presented a singular contrast to the calm and staid deportment of their sectarian ancestors of the present day"

(p.86). Because New England offers them great risks, the Quakers flock to it, perhaps hoping for the crown of martyrdom. Catherine, Ilbrahim's mother, violates her natural, maternal concern for her

son, interpreting her abandonment of her son as a call for greater martyrdom: "I hear it, I hear it. The voice speaketh within me and saith, 'leave thy child, Catharine, for his place is here, and go hence, for I have other work for thee. Break the bonds of natural affection, martyr thy love, and knew that in all these things, eternal wisdom hath its ends"’ (p. 106). Before succumbing to her inner voice, she is drawn to her child if only for a moment: "By the words she uttered, it would seem that the indulgence of natural love had given her mind a momentary sense of its errors, and made her know how far she had strayed from duty in following the dictates of a wild fanaticism" (p. 103). Before Catharine delivers her invective against her Puritan tormentors and before she martyrs her natural affection, a Puritan divine has delivered a near two hour homily against the Quakers' ob­ stinacy in demonic error, advising his congregation of the need for severity: "He spoke of the danger of pity, in seme cases a commend­ able and Christian virtue, but inapplicable to this pernicious sect" -259-

(p.98). Ihis call for severity assumes a militaristic rigidity in the close alliance between soldier and saint which marks the Puritan society. Puritan segimentation may leave little room for tolerance. A drum roll summons the people to church; Tobias Pearson wears "the dress which marked his military rank" (p. 106) to church; “a gentle­

man in military dress, with a stout man of inferior rank" (p. 102) station themselves outside of the meeting-house door to arrest Cath­ arine; the people form a phalanx when the Pearsons bring the Quaker boy to the Puritan place of worship. Such militarism can become a sanctioned form of sadism and rigidity can be readily transformed to bigotry as it is in the governor of Massachusetts: "He was a man of narrow mind and inperfect education, and his unoqnprcmising bigotry was made hot and mischievous by violent and hasty passions; he ex­ erted his influence indecorously and unjustifiably to ooirpass the death of the enthusiasts; and his whole conduct, in respect to them, was marked by brutal cruelty" (p. 86). In contrast to the Christians' sadomasochistic targe to persecute and to be martyred, the heathen Indians and Turks exercise a remarkable degree of tolerance. The Puritans demonstrate a "gratuitous cruelty" (p.91) in not giving the Gentle Boy anything to eat - a cruelty that not even the Indians, against whom the settlers bolt their doors and wage war, would manifest: "The heathen savage would have given him to eat of his scanty morsel, and to drink of his birchen cup; but -260-

Christian men, alas! had cast him out to die" (p.92). Even more so than the Indians, the Turks display a natural tolerance for the fren­ zied enthusiasts: "Her husband and herself had resided many months in Turkey, where even the Sultan's countenance was gracious to than; in that pagan land, too, was Ilbrahim's birthplace, and his oriental name was a mark of gratitude for the good deeds of an unbeliever"

(p. 107). Paradoxically, the pagan Indians and Turks display a charity which the disordered Quakers, the persecuting Puritans, and the Catholic Inquisition— what the narrator terms "the contending sects of our purer religion (p.107)— lack. In this vortex of masochistic Quakers, sadistic Puritans, pagan Christianity and Christian barbarity, the gentle spirituality of I Ibrahim seems to be quite out of place. His features reveal a spirituality which is remote from this earth; his face is "pale, spiritual" (pp.89,93-94). His heavenly nature contrasts with the hypocritical earthiness of the Puritan congregation: "He was a sweet infant of the skies that had strayed away frcm his hone, and all the inhabitants of this miserable world closed up their impure hearts against him, drew back their earth-soiled garments frcm his touch, and said, 'We are holier than thou'" (p.97). When with the Pearsons, Ilbrahim is like a "domesticated sunbean" (p. 108) in joy. He avoids the reproach of other children because their evil scorn sems alien -261- bo his nature. When ha does approach the other children, he cannot fathom any reason for their depravity: "It was I Ibrahim who came to­ wards the children with a look 6 f sweet confidence on his fair and spiritual face, as if, having manifested his love to one of than, he had no longer to fear a repulse from their society" (p. 112). Un­ fit for the brutal treachery of this world, IXbrahim becomes "soon the victim of his own heavenly nature" (p. 113). Whatever earthiness I Ibrahim lacks is more than compensated for by the Puritan children, especially by the former invalid whom the Gentle Boy had befriended. The invalid's treachery is matched by slightly distorted physical features which contrast with the pale spirituality of IIbrahim's countenance. He has a slight distortion of the mouth, irregularly shaped eyebrows, the almost imperceptible twist of every joint, and the uneven prominence of the breast (p. 110). The Pearsons, especially Dorothy, seem to be the only ones who can mediate between the demands of the flesh an of the spirit. But even for Tobias Pearson the earthly misery he suffers is hard to re­ concile to a spiritual vision. He has the military background but not the militaristic rigidity of his fellow Puritans. He served as an officer in Cronwell's dragoons until the strife seemed no longer holy. Beneath his military dress even Catharine can detect a noticeable lade of rigidity: "The Quaker saw the dress which marked his military rank. -262- and shook her heady but then she noted the hesitating air, the eyes that struggled with her own, and were vanquished; the color that went and cane, and could find no resting place" (p. 106). the man's natural sympathy, restrained by Puritan discipline and by his own reason, seems to rest with the Quakers, When he takes Ilbrahim in, he does so prcnpted by a call similar to the Quaker inner light: "Then he told her how he had found him beneath the gallows, upon her father's grave; and how his heart had prcnpted him, like the speaking of an inward voice, to take the little outcast hime, and be kind unto him" (p. 93). His later conversion to the faith of Ilbrahim is consistent with his character but creates an internal conflict which is difficult to resolve: "But while he was thus beocming assimilated to the enthusiasts, his contempt, in nowise decreasing towards than, grew very fierce against himself; he imagined, also, that every face of his acquaintance wore a sneer, and that every word addressed to him was a gibe" (p. 114). Ignomii and misfortune, aided by his own financial failures, plaque him. In England he was unable to provide far bis growing family. In America he loses his children, finding Ilbrahim only to lose him later. He loses his wealth and position and even perhaps his peace of mind as he converts to a religion which seems more attuned to his tfaqperment. Throughout the suffering of her husband, Dorothy Pearson main­ tains her equilibrium. Morally she appears stronger than her husband -263- and does not hesitate to stand before the Puritan congregation to be the guardian of Ilbrahim: "Tobias Pearson was agitated and uneasy, but a certain feeling like the consciousness of guilt oppressed him, so that he could not go forth and offer himself as the protector of the child. Dorothy, however, had watched her husband's eye. Her mind was free frcm the influence that had begun to work on his, and she drew near the Quaker woman and addressed her in the hearing of all the congregation" (p. 104). In contrast to her husband, she has a moral strength; in contrast to Catharine, she has a "rational piety" (p. 104). This combination of reason with piety marks her as a person who can maintain an equilibrium between the demands of this life and of the next. In the misfortunes of the Pearson fanily she has the strength to endure. The syntagmatic form of the tale is quite complex, involving two pairs of interrelated moves united by the structural opposition between spirit and matter. The first pair of moves consists of the fusion of the Pearson's misfortunes with the fate of Ilbrahim, re­ sulting in a temporary liquidation. The second pair of moves con­ cerns the fatal beating of the Gentle Boy and the declining fortunes of Tobias Pearson. Pair 1 Villa. Lack In England Tobias Pearson suffers from both a spiritual and a material lack: "But when the ambitious designs of his leader began -264- to develop themselves, he quitted the army of the Parliament, and sought a refuge from the strife, which was no longer holy, among the people of his persuasion in the colony of Massachusetts. A more worldly consideration had perhaps an influence in drawing him thither; for New England offered advantages to men of unprosperous fortunes, as well as to dissatisfied religionists, and Pearson had hitherto found it difficult to provide far a wife and increasing family"

(p.94). X. Beginning Counteraction

XI. Departure The Pearsons leave far America. XIX. Lack Liquidated Pearson's inability to provide for his family is ironically alleviated by the death of his children once in America. The loss of their children does prepare the Pearsons to accept Ilbrahim. VIII. Villainy

Ilbrahim's father is martyred because of the religious bigotry of the Puritan governor and people. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Ilbrahim* s wail functions as a lamentation announcing his mis­ fortune? he tells Tobias Pearson of his father's death. Hie wailing of Ilbrahim is a private revelation of persecution. Catharine's bitter speech before the Puritan congregation is a public -265-

proclamation of misfortune, but her bitter execrations hardly con­ stitute an action fitting for a dispatcher. She calls on the chosen

ones to avenge her: "lift your voices, chosen ones; cry aloud, and call down a woe and a judgment with me!1 (p. 101) X. Beginning Counteraction Tbb&as resolves to care for the'.boy: " 'No, child, no, not while I have a roof over my head, or a morsel to share with you! exclaimed the Puritan, whose sympathies were now fully excited.

'Rise up and come with me, and fear not any harm'" (p.91).

Dorothy Pearson publicly assumes the role that her husband had

chosen privately "in the hearing of all the congregation" (p.104). Prior to Dorothy's offer, Ilbrahim offers himself as hero:

"I am here, mother; it is I, and I will go with thee to prison,' he ex&laimed" (p.102), but Dorothy's offer supersedes the boy's.

XII. The First Function of the Donor

XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent XIX. lack Liquidated The Gentle Boy has found a family to replace the one which he had lost and the Pearsons again have a child. The entire family, but especially Ilbrahim, function as mutual donors: "His airy gayety, coming to him from a thousand sources, communicated itself to the family, and Ilbrahim was like a domesticated sunbeam, brightening moody consequences, and chasing away the gloan from the dark corners

of the cottage" (p. 108). -266- Pair 2

Villa. Lack Ilbrahim is not always a domesticated sunbeam, however: "On the other hand, as the susceptibility of pleasure is also that of pain, the exuberant cheerfulness of the boy's prevailing temper some­ times yielded to moments of deep depression" (p. 108). Perhaps the prime reason for this depression is the scorn that the other children direct against him: "Hie soorn and bitterness, of which he was the object, were very grievous to Ilbrahim, especially when any circum­ stance made him sensible that the children, his equals in age, partook of the enmity of their parents. His tender and social nature had al­ ready overflowed in attachments to everything about him, and still there was a residue of unappropriated love, which he yearned to be­ stow upon the little ones who were taught to hate him" (p. 109). XIX.* Lack (Partially) Liquidated "Chance, however, at length seemed to open up a medium of oan- municatian between his heart and theirs; it was by means of a boy about two years older than Ilbrahim, who was injured by a fall from a tree in the vicinity of the Pearson's habitation" (p. 109). Ilbrahim seems to establish sane cormunication: "Nothing, hcwever, could arrest the progress of the lather's (i.e. Ilbrahim's) affection, and there were many proofs that it met with a response frcm the dark and stubborn nature on which it was lavished" (p. Ill). -267-

V U I a . Lack X. Beginning Counteraction

XI. Departure Ilbrahim decides to join the children and walks towards them:

"It was Ilbrahim, who came towards the children with a look of sweet confidence on his fair and spiritual face, as if, having manifested his love to one of the, he had no longer to fear a repulse from their society " (p.112). XVI. Struggle The children attack Ilbrahim.

XVIII.* Defeat Once his would-be savior strikes him in the mouth, the Gentle Boy drops his arms to receive all of the blows. He recovers physically but not psychologically: "Ilbrahim's bodily harm was severe, but long and careful nursing accomplished his recovery; the injury done to his sensitive spirit was more serious, though not so visible” (p. 113). XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated Ilbrahim cannot live in earthly society. He dies at the boson of his natural mother and returns to his spiritual home. Villa. Lack Tobias Pearson is caught between his Puritan training and his inclination towards the Quaker faith. But this crisis in faith is only the preliminary to a deeper, Job-like, spiritual and physical suffering caused by the villainy perpetrated on his adopted son: From my youth upward I have been a man marked out for wrath; and year by year, yea, day after day, I have endured sorrows such as others know not in their lifetime. .. .But when nty heart was desolate with many losses I fixed it upon the child of a stranger, and he became dearer to me than all my buried ones; and now he too must die as if my love were poison. Verily, I am an accursed man, and I will lay me down in the dust and lift up my head no more" (p.117). We do not know the outcome of Pearson's spiritual crisis.

Ilbrahim1 s death leads Catharine to becane more and more fanat­ ical until both the spirit of persecution and her desire for it exhaust themselves whereupon she returns to the Pearsons.

XII. The First Function of the Donor XIII. The Hero's Reaction

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Ilbrahim's spirit acts as a donor teaching Catharine true religion: "As if Ilbrahim's sweetness yet lingered round his ashes; as if his gentle spirit came down frcm heaven to teach his parent a true religion, her fierce and vindictive nature was softened by the same griefs which had once irritated it" {p. 126). XIX. Lack Liquidated A certain reconciliation between Puritan and Quaker, if not between the cruelty and suffering of earth and the kindness and serenity of Ilbrahim's spiritual heme, pervades at the end. "Roger Malvin's Burial" Structurally the poles of "Roger Malvin's Burial" are a concern for one's own life and pride as opposed to a concept of duty to maintain another person's life and esteem. Such an antithesis may suggest a -269-

Freudian conflict between the socially conscious superego and the more individual, instinctual impulses of the id. Frederick C. Crews analyzes the subjective stress in Reuben Bourne's psyche as the ten­ sion arising frcm tlie superego's condemnation of fulfilled self-cen­ tered v/ishes: "These citations from the story's first scene make it evident that Hawthorne, by 1 laving Reuben's self-seeking wishes concur with a morally legitimate but painful decision, has set in bold re­ lief tlie purely psyd»logical problem of guilt. Unlike his critics, Hawthorne daws not dwell on the moral defensibility of Reuben's leaving; rather he demonstrates hew this act appears to Rsuben as a fulfillment of his egoistic wishes, so that he is already beginning to punish himself as if he had positively brought about Roger's 21 death." Whether viewed in Freudian terms or not, however, initial­ ly Reuben Bourne seems to be incapable of mediating between his own self-concern and what he considers to be selfless devotion to others. Ironically, by repressing wliat he views as base concerns, lie is tortured by his guilt and withdraws more and more into himself, there­ by rendering himself less devoted to others. His villainy lies not in leaving Roger Malvin but in deceiving Dorcas by intimating that lie acted selflessly.

21 "The logic of Ccnqaulsian in 'Roger Malvin's Burial"' PMIA, 79 (1964), p.460. -270-

While Roger Malvin is entreating Reuben to leave, the youth's main concern seens to be not whether he should go or stay tut rather what motive can validly induce him to abandon his ccmrade. He wants desperately to be free frcm any taint of self-interest: "Nor can it be affirmed that no selfish feeling strove to enter Reuben's heart, though the consciousness made him more earnestly resist his compan­ ion's entreaties" (p.384). The youth wants to believe that in leav­ ing his friend he is doing so only to save the dying man. Clutching at phantasms of non-self-centered action, Reuben envisions himself as rescuing his friend, not saving himself: "No merely selfish motive, nor even the desolate condition of Dorcas, could have in­ duced him to desert his companion at such a moment— hut his wishes seized on the thought that Malvin's life might be preserved, and his sanguine nature heightened almost to certainty the remote possibility of procuring human aide" (p.386). Even the narrator seems to view ego-motives as temptations which prove too hard to resist: "His generous nature would fain have delayed him, at whatever risk, till the dying scene were past; but the desire of existence and the hope of happiness had strengthened in his heart, and he was unable to re­ sist than" (p.389). Thus, in this first scene, Reuben's sense of guilt (and perhaps even the narrator's) revolves not upon the physical act of abandonment but on the moral and psychological motive for this act. -271- Beuben is so as hared of his motivation that at first he is silent and then he equivocates to Dorcas: "Beuben felt it impossible

that his selfish love of life had hurried him away before her father's

fate was decided. He spoke not.... 11-iy hands were weak; but I did what I could,' replied the youth in a snothered tone. 'There stands a noble tombstone above his head; and I would to Heaven I slept as

soundly as he I'11 (p. 393). The youth1 s refusal to acknowledge the presence of "baser" motives inherent in his moral constitution forces him to equivocate to his future wife. In denying part of himself, he undergoes a metamorphosis: "His one secret thought became like a

diain binding down his spirit and like a serpent gnawing into his

heart; and he was transformed into a sad and downcast yet irritable man" (p.395). His farm deteriorates and even his ability to love di­ minishes. His melancholy assumes a deeper sense of selfislmess so that his son becomes a mere adjunct of his psyche: "Even Dorcas, though laving and beloved, was far less dear to him; for Beuben's secret thoughts and insulated emotions had gradually made him a selfish man, and he could no longer love deeply except where he saw or imagined some reflection or likeness of his own mind" (p. 396).

But Beuben destroys this reflection of his mind. According to Crews, only by the death of Cyrus, his alter ego, can Beuben feel that his guilt has been expiated: "In killing Cyrus lie is destroy­

ing the 'guilty' side of himself, and hence avenging Roger Malvin's -272- death in an appallingly primitive way. The blood of a 'father' rests on the 'son,' who disburdens himself of it by becoming a father and slaying his son. This is the terrible logic of Havr- 22 thome's tale" ; howsver, Beuben does more than just liquidate an alter ego. He kills his son. The realization that he has destroy­ ed not only a part of himself but another human enables him to break out of the mental confines of his selfishness to pray. He cannot conceal his son's corpse from Dorcas nor can his pride deny his error. Beuben must confront the truth about himself. Onoe he does this, then perhaps he can obtain forgiveness. I. Absentation Roger Malvin and Beuben Bourne go off to wajr.

II. Interdiction Roger Malvin enjoins his younger comrade: "Carry my blessings to Dorcas.. .return when your wounds are healed and your weariness re­ freshed, - return to this wild rock, and lay my bones in the grave, and say a prayer over them" (p. 389). HI. Violation VI. Trickery Beuben violates the ccnmand when he equivocally tells Dorcas: "There stands a noble tombstone above his lie ad; and I would to Heaven

I slept as soundly as he]" (p.393).

22 Crews, p.461. -273-

VII. Complicity Dorcas submits to the deception.

VIII. Villainy Reuben lives, tormented by his deception as if a snake were gnawing at his heart, perhaps suffering as Roger Ell is ton does in "Egotism, or, the Bosom Serpent": "His one secret thought became like a chain binding down his spirit and like a serpent gnawing into his heart; and he was transformed into a sad and downcast and yet irritable man" (p. 395). Reuben is his own villain. Not only does his psyche suffer but even his finances as lie faces ruin. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction Because Reuben feels but does not acknowledge his guilt open­ ly, he is not a seeker-hero consciously resolving to expiate his guilt. He does not leave in order to conquer the villain within himself but only because he has no other practical alternative be­ cause of his financial ruin. Unconsciously, however, he may seek expiation.

XI. Departure Reuben's family leaves in early May, reaching the scene of Roger Malvin's death on May twelfth, the date recognized as marking the death of Roger Malvin. XII. Hie First Function of the ©onor Here the exact nature of the donor is not very clear. Reuben hears a "supernatural voice." -274-

XIII. Tlie Hero's Reaction Upon hearing the "supernatural voice," "He trusted that it was Heaven's intent to afford him an opportunity of expiating his sin..." (p.402). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The conscious yearning to expiate may constitute the gift of the "supernatural voice" to Reuben. XVI. Struggle In killing Cyrus, Reuben is killing a part of himself; he is struggling with his own sense of guilt. XVII. Branding "At that moment the withered topmost bough of the oak loosened itself in the stilly air, and fell in soft, light fragments upon the rock, upon the leaves, upon Reuben, upon his wife and child, and upon Roger Malvin1 s bones" (p. 406). XVIII. Victory "His sin:.was expiated, - the curse was gone from him..." (p.406).

XIX. Lack Liquidated Rueben is at last liberated from his selfishness: "...and in the hour when he had shed blood- dearer to him than his own, a prayer, the first for years, went up to Heaven from the lips of Reuben Bourne" (p.406). -275- "Young Goodman Brown"

The two poles of experience confronting the protagonist in 23 "Young Goodman Brown" are the town and the forest. For Brown, the daylight world of the town represents a place where his father and grandfather are gentle men, "a race of honest men and good Christians" (p. 92) , where Good/ Cloyse and Deacon Gookin teach catechism, and where his wife has nought to do with the desire that urges him to the woods. Deciding to break from what he views as the simple goodness of his life in town, he ventures into the dark­ ness of the woods - only for one night. This journey into the forest is a journey of the mind into the knowledge of evil. But, having gained the knowledge of sin, Brown cannot integrate it into

M s being; he cannot accept a dualistic world consisting of both good and evil. After his return from the forest, he renains rigid­ ly monistic. For him the twin poles of experience stand antithet­ ical and irreconcilable. On M s way to M s midnight appointment, young Goodman Brown appears quite young and quite naive when compared to his elder travel­ ing companion: "And yet, though the elder person vras as simply clad as the younger, and as simple in manner too, he had an indescribable

23 For a similar reading, see P. J. Hurley, "Young Goodman Brown's ’Heart of Darkness'" AL, 37 (1966), pp.410-19. -276- air of one who knew the world, and who would not have felt abashed at the governor's dinner table or in King William's court, were it confined to proper table manners. He says that he knows the young man's father and grandfather on more intimate terms than the youth would suspect: "I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem, and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's war.

They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and returned merrily after midnight. I would fain be friends with you for their sake" (p.92). Like the youth's father and grandfather who allegedly, at least, were on speaking terms with the elder traveler, Goody Clpyse knows her old friend, the devil. The youth is Stunned by these revelations and rests beside a tree, thinking of the shame he would incur if Deacon Gookin and Faith were to detect his guilt. But for Brown even the censure of the deacon loses its sting as the minister and deacon ride on through the forest to meet a midnight rendezvous. At this,point, Brcwn doubts the very existence of good: "Be locked up to the sky, doubting whether there really was a heaven above him" (p.97). Yet the vision of evil is not yet complete: "With heaven above and Faith below, I will yet stand firm against the devil!' cried Good­ man Brown" (p.98). All that Brown needs to finish the transformation, -277- however, is the ambiguous presence of a pink ribbon such as Faith wears: "'My Faith is gone!* cried he, after one stupefied moment. 'There is no good on earth; and sin is but a name. Ocme, devil; for to thee is this world given'" (p.99). like another naive youth, Robin in "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," Goodman Brown greets his new­ ly aoguired knowledge with a resounding, almost demonic laugh. Like an adolescent gaining his first knowledge of the sins of his father,

Brown and the other converts see the evil of all those older people whan they had idealized frcm youth: "'There,' resuned the sable farm, 'are all whan ye have reverenced from youth. Ye deemed them holier than yourselves, and shrank from your own sin, contrasting it with their lives of righteousness and prayerful aspirations heaven­ ward. Yet here are they all in my worshipping assembly. This night it shall be granted you to know their secret deeds..." (p. 103). The knowledge imparted to the converts is meant to instruct them in the philosophy of a new religion: "Depending upon one another's hearts, ye had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream. Now are ye un­ deceived. Evil is the nature of mankind. Evil must be your only happiness" (p. 104). Only Goodman Brown's impassioned plea that Faith look up to heaven breaks the necromancer's spell or the youth's night­ mare. But the spell is not really broken for the vision of evil dom­ inates Brown's psyche to the gloom of his death. Physically he returns -278- to the town but psychologically he remains in the forest. He shrinks frcxn the minister's blessing and even from his wife's embrace. He snatches a child away from Goody Cloyse and wonders to what god does Deacon Gookin address his prayers. He becomes a "stem, a sad, a darkly meditative, a distrustful, if not a desperate man” (p.106). For him the devilish forest exists in the town. His naivete develops into despair. He seems to be incapable of accepting a unity of good and evil. I. Absentation Initially Goodman Brown thinks of his absence as a temporary, one-night affair. He leaves his wife of three months at nightfall: "Young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset into the street at Salem village; but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to ex­ change a parting kiss with his young wife" (p. 89). II. Interdiction "'Dearest heart,' whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear, 'prithee put off they journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed tonight" (p. 89). III. Violation "'My love and my Faith,' replied young Goodman Brown, 'of all nights in the year, this one night must I tarry away from thee" (p.89). -279-

Vllla. Lack The temporary absence that the young man envisions becomes a permanent one. In the course of the narrative, his innocence will turn to despair. Superficially liis lack-desire is for a one-night experience; but his moral lack consists of an innocence not yet tem­ pered with a knowledge of evil. The lack vail be liquidated with a vengeance. Faith seems to have felt a foreboding insight into the nature of her husband's journey: "Methought as she spoke there was trouble in her face, as if a drean had warned her what work is to be done to­ night. But no, no; 'tvvould kill her to thin]: it" (p.90). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction Young Goodman Brcwn resolves to go on his journey: •'Well, she's a blessed angel on earth; and after this one night I'll cling to her skirts and follow her to heaven" (p.90). XI. Departure Ihe youth leaves: "With this excellent resolve far the future,

Goodman Brown felt himself justified in making more haste on his present evil purpose" (p. 90). -280-

XII. The First Function of the Donor The donor greets and interrogates the hero: "'You are late,

Goodman Brown,' said he. 'The clock of the Old South was striking as I cane through Boston and that is full fifteen minutes agone'"

(pp. 90-91). The devil must persuade the hero to acoept the knowledge of evil by showing him the evil of other members of the ocmnunity. 1. "I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lash- the Quaker woman so snartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitchpine knot, kindled at my cwn hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Phillip's war"

(p. 92). 2. Goody Cloyse rides up and recognizes her old familiar.

3. The minister and Deacon Gookin come riding (pp.96-97). 4. Brcwn sees the pink ribbon. XIII. The Hero's Reaction Brown responds to the devil's greetings "Faith kept me bade

awhile..." (p.91). 1. Brown does not believe that his father had ever done such a deed, "My father never went to the woods..." (p.92). The devil in­

forms him otherwise. -281-

2. After Goody Cloyse appears and chats with her old friend, the young man thinks that perhaps he has gone far enough into the woods: "'Friend,' said he stubbornly, 'my mind is made up. Not another step will X budge on this errand" 1 (pp.95-96).

3. After the deacon and the minister appear, Brown seems even more resolved to reject the devil and the experience of evil: "With heaven above and Faith below, I will yet stand firm against the devil" (p.98). 4. After the appearance of the pink ribbon, the youth seems ready to respond to the devil: "There is no good on earth and sin is but a name. Cane, devil; for to thee is this world given" (p.99). XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

Goodman Brown is now prepared to share the devil's vision of evil. He signifies this acceptance by grasping the staff which the devil left for him. XV. Guidance Physically the staff brings the youth to the scene of the witches' Sabbath: "And, maddened with despair, so that he laughed loud and long, did Goodman Brown grasp his staff and set forth again, at such a rate that he seaned to fly along the forest path rather than walk or run" (p. 99). Morally, the devil transports the converts to a vision of evil: "This night it shall be granted to you to know their secret deeds..."

(p. 103). -282-

XVI. Struggle Young Goodman Brown urges his wife to resist the wicked one: "'Faith! Faith!1 cried the husband, 'look up to heaven, and resist the wicked one1" (p. 105). XVII. Branding "...while a hanging twig, that had been all on fire, be­ sprinkled his cheeck with the coldest dew" (p. 105).

XVIII.* Defeat XIX.* Lack Liquidated Goodman Brown's naivete is replaced by despair, "for his dying hour was gloom" (p. 106). lie has had his night in the forest.

XX. Return Although he returns to the town, his outlook remains in the depths of the woods: "ttie next morning young Goodman Brcwn came slow­ ly into the streets of Salem village, staring around him like a be­ wildered man" (p. 106). GROUP FOUR "My Kinsman, Major Molineux"

In "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," Richard H. Fogle observes that the town is for Robin what the forest is for Goodman Brcwn: a Spenser­ ian Maze of Error in which the young hero is introduced into the mystery 24 of iniquity. Robin's reaction to this newly acquired knowledge echoes

24 Hawthorne's Fiction: The Light and the Dark, 2nd ed.rev. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1964), p. 105. -283- the laughter of Goodman Brown in the forest, yet he is saved from the all-enocnpassing vision of evil that characterizes Brcwn by the potential for growth offered by the gentleman who functions as a helper-donor. The general pattern of movement from naive youth to wise 25 adult necessitates what van Gennep terms a rite of passage, 26 Daniel G. Hoffman sees not only Robin but also the developing state of America as undergoing maturity. Thus, the transition of the naive youth - who as a Yankee bunpkin prides himself on his 27 mother-wit - into a potential adult reflects a societal change from the paternalism of British colonial rule to the potential self-government of American democracy: In psychological terms, Male is probably right that all the men in the story are displacements or substitutions for the father, in his several aspects: as authority . (to be feared, courted, or ridiculed), and as paternity (to be loved, escaped from, and depended upon). But there are other inplications neoessary to a full involve­ ment with the tale. Major Molineux is not only the Father as Authority, he is also the past which must be rejected. Specifically, he represents British rule -

See footnote 5.

Hoffman, pp.113-25.

Hoffman, pp. 119-21. -284- in political terms he is the representative of the crown. If psychologically the Major displaces Babin's father, politically and culturally he actually displaces the King. In the cultural and political rite of passage, the Major functions as a scape-goat king, carted away in tar-and-feather dignity. Thus, in this tale of individual and social tradition the two poles center on t the innocent security of childhood or of colonialism and on the ex­ perienced independence of maturity. Initial Situation There, at the going down of the sunxner sun, it was his father's custom to perform domestic worship, that the neighbors might cane and join with him like brothers of the family, and that the wayfaring man might pause to drink at that fountain, and keep his heart pure by freshening the memory of home. Robin distinguished the seat of every individual of the little audience; he saw the good man in the midst, holding the Scrip­ tures in the golden light that fell from the western clouds; he beheld him close the book and all rise up to pray (p.635). Villa. Lack Because the elder brother is destined to succeed to the farm,

Robin needs a position. More significantly, the shrewd youth suffers from a moral lack. He is quite naive. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident "...it was therefore determined that Robin should profit by his kinsman's generous intentions, especially as he seemed to be rather the favorite, and was thought to possess other necessary endowments"

(p.634).

28 Hoffman, pp.117-18 X. Beginning Counteraction "...I thought, it high time to begin in the world" (p.634).

XI. Departure

Itabin Grosses over from the forest to the tcwn, aided by a ferryman (pp. 617-18). XII. The First Function of the Donor The function of the donors in this tale is quite complex with a nunber of characters offering the young youth a knowledge of evil. 1. A hostile creature threatens the hero: "Hhat I have authority, I have - hem, han - authority; and if this be the respect you show for your betters, your feet shall be acquainted with the stocks by daylight, tomorrow morning I" (p.619). 2. An innkeeper, thinking that Robin may be a run-away ap- rentice, warns him: "Better trudge, boy, better trudge" (p.623).

3. Robin encounters the girl with the scarlet petticoat; he is "threatened" with sexual knowledge (pp.625-26). 4. Watchman warns him: "Heme or we'll set you in the stocks by the peep of day!" (p.627). 5. Robin encounters the girl in the scarlet petticoat for the second time (p. 628). 6. Robin meets the man with two faces (p.629). 7. A friendly donor greets and interrogates the hero: "Can I be of service to you in any way?" (p.636). -286-

XIII. The Hero's Reaction 1. To the watclman's threat, Robin leaves, laughing at the olvious error. 2. Robin wonders about his reception in the inn. 3. He retreats from the girl in the scarlet petticoat.

4. He trudges on as the watchman warns him.

5. He again "resisted temptation" (p. 628). 6. Robin thrusts his cudgel in front of the ape man and de­ mands information about his kinsman; he is told to stand and wait. 7. He tells the gentleman of his difficulties.

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The gentleman conveys wisdom to Robin through his question, "May not a man have several voices, Rabin, as well as two complex­ ions?" {p.636). XV. Guidance The sound of the uproar leads Robin to his kinsnan( (pp. 636-37).

XIX.* Lade (Partially) Liquidated Robin's quest is ended with the knowledge that Major Molineux cannot help him. His laughter reveals his shock of recognition. Ap­ parently defeated, he thinks of returning to his hone (function XX.), but the kind gentleman offers Robin new hope of both financial and perhaps moral growth: '"No, my good friend Robin, - not to-night, at least,' said the gentleman. 'Seme few days hence, if you wish it, -287-

I will speed you on your journey. Or, if you prefer to remain with us, perhaps, as you are a shrewd youth, you may rise in the world without the help of your kinanan, Major Molineux1" (p.641). "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" concerns the comically futile

efforts to circumvent fate as opposed to a rather profound accept­

ance of it. In the antithetical structure of these two poles, Dr. Heidegger plays two roles. As a scientist who attempts to control

fate, he is as ludicrous a failure as his four subjects; however, as a man sensitive to the values of age and the decrees of fate,

he attains a venerable dignity which sets him apart fran the other

characters in the tale. Dr. Heidegger seems to be a burlesque of the mad scientist. He is no Rappaccini or Aylmer who pursues his scientific zeal to the point of violating luman hearts, but rather an eccentric old man who enjoys conducting rather innocuous experiments for the dubious enjoyment of his audience: "When the doctor's four guests

heard him talk of his proposed experiment, they anticipated nothing more wonderful than the murder of a mouse in an air pump, or the examination of a cobweb by the microscope, or some similar nonsense, with which he was constantly in the habit of pestering his intimates" (p.261). His villainies, if such they be, result from ineptness

rather than from malevolent design. He destroys his fiancee on their bridal evening but only indirectly and unintentionally: "Above half a century ago, Dr. Heidegger had been on the point of marriage with this young lady; but being affected with some slight disorder, she hac. swallowed one of her lover's prescriptions, and died on the bridal evening" (pp.259-60). With his skeleton in the closet, his miirar reflecting the shades of former patients, and a book of magic the doctor has the Halloween trappings of the macabre without sin­ ister power. Like his friends - Mr. Medboume the merchant become mendicant, Colonel Killigrew the sinner becane gout-ridden sufferer,

Mr„ Gascoigne the ruined politician, and Widow Wycherly the farmer beauty - the doctor is a less than successful, aging man. Unlike his friends, however, the eccentric Dr. Heidegger pos­ sesses a wisdom that makes him conscious of the vanity of tampering with fate. He is in no hurry to rejuvenate a person who had suffered many pains in aging and warns his subjects of the danger of a seoond youth: "ihink what a sin and shame it would be, if, with your pecul­ iar advantages, you should not becane patterns of virtue and wisdom to all the young people of the age!" (p.263). While the four im­ bibers of the Water of Youth cavort in total disregard-of the doctor's caveat, the scientist assumes a dignity and eminence which in his role as eccentric experimenter he does not possess: "He sat in a high-back­ ed, elaborately-carved, oaken arm-chair, with a gray dignity of aspect that might have well befitted that very Father Time, whose power had -289-

t 3 never been disputed, save by this fortunate canpany. Even while quaf­ fing the third draught of the Fountain of Youth, they were almost awed by the expression of his mysterious visage" (p.267). As Mr. Gascoigne mulls over the same age-old political ideas, as the Colonel resumes his vices, as the merchant calculates the cost of harnessing whales to polar icebergs, and as Widow Wycherly revels in her renascent beauty, Dr. Heidegger rules not as a lord of misrule but as one of the distant

Olympians, aloof from such frivolity. Even when his rose droops, he accepts his fate and the passing of an ephemeral beauty: "'I love it as well thus as in its dewy freshness,' observed he, pressing the with­ ered rose to his withered lips'" (p. 270). If his experiment is a scientific failure, it is a moral success for ham, if not for his friends who seek to conquer time through a geographic pilgrimage to Florida rather than a moral quest for truth. Villa. lack (Villainy) The apparent villainy in all four of the doctor's subjects is that they have grown far too old: "They were all melancholy old crea­ tures, who had been unfortunate in life, and whose greatest misfortune it was that they were not long ago in their graves" (p.258). But be­ cause the tale concerns an experiment, the real lack is one of know­ ledge. In offering his four friends water from the Fountain of Youth, superficially he offers them rejuvenation; however, his real offering is knowledge. The four reject the knowledge of themselves which the experiment reveals but the doctor does not. As hero, the doctor gains knowledge; as donor, he provides a magical agent which is only partial­ ly successful. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident "1 My dear old friends,1 repeated Dr. Heidegger, 'may I reckon on your aid in performing an exceedingly curious experiment?'" (p.260). X. Beginning Counteraction When proposing that his friends help him on a quest for know­ ledge, the doctor elicits a hardly enthusiastic response; hcwever, his friends becane at least passively interested at the prospect of renewed youth. Obviously the doctor is actively engaged in a pursuit of know­ ledge. XI.* Work The subjects do not leave on a journey but enter the world of the experiment. XII. The First Function of the Donor

The doctor tests his subjects before conferring upon them the magical agent which will give them youth and himself knowledge: "Think what a sin and shame it would be, if, with your peculiar advantages, you should not became pattern of virtue and wisdom to all the young people of the age!" (p.263). XIII. The Hero's Reaction The four reply by laughing at the absurdity of the test: "The doctor's four venerable friends made him no answer, except by a feeble -291- and tremulous laugh; so very ridiculous was the idea that, knowing how closely repentance treads behind the steps of error, they should ever go astray again" (p. 263). Their reply grants than the magical agent to restore their youth, but ironically indicates their lack of self-knowledge. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent The doctor provides the champagne glasses full of the Water of

Youth. XIX.* Lack (Partially) Liquidated XIX. Lack Liquidated The four subjects receive a temporary return to youth but the doctor receives a permanent increase in knowledge: "Well - I bemoan it not [i.e. the spilling of the Water of Youth]; for if the fountain gushed at my very doorstep, I would not stoop to bathe my lips in it - no, though its delirium were for years instead of moments. Such is the lesson ye have taught me" (p.270). Villa. Lack IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction Because their rejuvenation is temporary, the four subjects resolve to go to Florida to quench their thirst for youth at the magic fountain. CHAPTER 4 Lack-Liquidated: the Self-Sufficient Hero

This chapter describes narratives in which heroes achieve their purpose without the assistance of a donor. Obenon attains the fame he desires when his manuscripts literally set the town ablaze. I Owen Warland creates the beautiful despite the unsympathetic society which threatens to engulf him in its mundane practicality. Endicott achieves a symbolic freedom from England. Ethan Brand finds the Unpardonable Sin. However successful each one of these heroes may be in achieving an end, they all suffer from another need which is not liquidated (see the sixth chapter). Oberon's innate moral failing is his undiminished ego whose lust for fame ignores the consequences of setting the town ablaze. Owen Warland ranains isolated from humanity; Endicott is impervious to his own form of tyranny; Ethan Brand allows his intellect to consume his human sympathy. Just as the four men need no donor to help them in the object of one quest so do they encounter no donor to assist than in the other. They may even lack a dispatcher to make the misfortune known. With the exception of Oberon whose diseased fancy finds his ego desires satisfied by chance, these heroes are men of will. -292- -293-

Owen Warland's will remains weak and vacillatory until the final movement of the tale. Ethan Brand becomes the demonic epitome of will as he assumes his fiery throne and Endicott dominates his oannunity through the sheer exercise of his will.

’’Th e Devil in Manuscript”

"The Devil in Manuscript" concerns the delicate artistic counterbalance of imagination with reality. Like the polari­ zation between the cold of the December night and the warmth of the fire— a contrast of which the narrator writes graphi­ cally in the opening— imagination and reality are never reconciled in Oberon's fanciful mind whose purpose centers on converting the products of imagination into the reality of fane. This purpose is realized when the products of his imagination are metamorphised into the reality of fire.

O b e r o n ’s artistry does not fuse his fervid flashes with what he wrote coldly but rather blurs all into the mediocrity of a poor dream: "My Picture, painted in what seemed the loveliest hues, presents nothing but a faded and indistinguish­ able surface. I have been eloquent and poetical and tumorous in a dream,— and behold! it is all nonsense now that I am awake” (p.579). As his nsme suggests, Cberon enters the -294-

process of writing as if it were divorced frcm the world

around him. When he writes, Oberon is the solitary king of his own fanciful world: "They [i.e. the tales] have drawn me aside frcm the beaten path of the world, and led me into a

strange sort of solitude,— a solitude in the midst of men,— where nobody wishes for what I do, nor thinks nor feels as I

do. Hie tales have done all this " (p.576). Perhaps the would-be writer is too quick to blame the tales for his own innate failing. Paradoxically, M s desire

for renown among men may be what alienates him most from M s fellows. He says that the devil is in the manuscript; but M s celebration of the fire, "Huzzah! My brain has set the town

on fire! Huzzah!" (p. 583), may indicate that the fiend is in himself rather than in M s tales. When he turns M s writing— prior to M s ultimate notoriety— M s glocm focuses on M s own obscurity more so than on the quality of the tales: "Hie deed has been my fate. And what remains? A weary and aimless life,— a long repentance of this hour,— and at last an obscure grave, where they will bury and forget me!" (p.582). What galls the unsuccessful author is the total of seventeen rejection notices frcm publishers. Oberon seems too intent on converting the shadcwy, aerial essence of M s imagination -295-

into the reality of fame before maintaining a balance between these two aesthetic forces in his own work. The paradigmatic structure of the tale indicates that there is an apparent villainy, the devil in the manuscript, and a real one, the moral failure of Oberon's ego.

Initial Situation The narrator travels to Oberon's tcwn on a freezing December night and then finds the warmth of the fire so refreshing that he thinks of rolling in the hot coals. Note: the narrator does not assume one of the functions of a dramatis persona but is present strictly as a narrator. VIII. Villainy Villa. Lack Oberon conceives of the publishers and the tales them­ selves to be the villains: " But the devil of the business is this. These people have put me so out of conceit with the tales, that I loathe the very thought of them, and actually experience a physical sickness of the stomach, whenever I glance at them on the table. I tell you there is a demon in them!" (p.577). But the real failing is a moral one— Oberon's pride and desire for notoriety. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Oberon makes the apparent villainy of the tales and publishers known to himself. Unfortunately, there is no dis­ patcher for the moral lack. X. Beginning Counteraction "... for this night I mean to b u m the manuscripts, and oam it the fiend to his retribution in the flames" (p. 575)

XVI. Struggle Oberon seizes what he considers to be the villain and casts it into the flames: "He had thrown the manuscript into the hottest of the fire, which at first seemed to shrink away, but soon curled around them? and made them a part of its cwn fervent brightness" (p. 580).

XVIII. Victory When "Hie papers were reduced to a heap of black cinders" (p. 581), Oberon seems to have acquired his victory. XIX. Lack Liquidated XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated Still not realizing that the initial lack was his own egotistical theory of art and life, Oberon deems his victory canplete and his appetite for fame brought to fruition as the town bums, "My Brain has set the town on fire" (p.583) -297-

Hie Artist of the Beautiful" 1 In Hawthorne's Fiction; The Light and the Dark, Richard H. Fogle analyzes "Hie Artist of the Beautiful" as a series of oppositions between beauty and pragmatism, idealism and materialism, time and eternity, understanding and imagin­ ation, mechanism and organism. Such an analysis lends itself to a structuralist approach and, as Fogle later observes in the same chapter, these five contrasts express the opposition between a "Jfcmantic affirmation" of art and a utilitarian rejection of it; '"The Artist of the Beautiful' is a Romantic affirmation of the value of art and of the spiritual pre­ eminence of the artist's imagination which intuitively pene- 2 trates to highest Goodness, Truth, and Beauty." Fogle's study is a perceptive reading but one must recall that, within the structure of the tale, Owen Warland's triunph occurs only "in his eyes"? the antipodes are not counterpoised but polar­ ized without synthesis as the structure dichotomizes into the poles of pure art and pure pragmatism. If Owen succeeds in attaining the "highest Goodness, Truth, and Beauty" he does so as a man apart from human society.

1 2nd ed. rev. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1964), pp.70-90. 2 Fogle, p.78. -298-

Perhaps the clearest way to understand the unreconciled polarity manifest in "The Artist of the Beautiful" is to contrast Owen War land' s spiritualization of matter with the vroodcarver’s creativity in "Drowns's Wooden image". Owen Warland is the isolated aesthete whose earliest schooldays were devoted to a delicate ingenuity devoid of use: "But it was always for purposes of grace, and never with any mockery of the useful" (p.507), On the other hand, Drowns originally is one of the philistines, a mechanical carver in wood who

rises to artistic expression for a brief moment. Warland seems to be an aesthetic aristocrat, b o m to beauty, while Drowne is one of the masses. The woodcarver's creation acquires an egalitarian appeal while the creator of the Beautiful has an audience of one. Before Drowne's creation of exotic beauty, his audience experiences fear but also reverence. Although a "Puritan of the old stamp" would b u m the work of the devil (as this statue must be), the admiration of the people for Drcwne's creation is nearly universal: "The fame of the image spread far and wide. The inhabitants visited it so universally that after a few days of exhibition there was hardly an old man or a child who had not beccme minutely familiar with its aspect" (p.357). Unlike Owen, Drowne has an audience and in -299- Cdpley an admirer. With Copley serving as an artistic sounding board, the reader learns that the wocdcarver infuses his image with his own spirit and passion like the Artist of the Beauti­ ful; however, unlike Owen whose "force, whatever there may be of it, is altogether spiritual" (p. 510), Drowne succeeds not by scorning his earthly substance but by yoking it and sub­ ordinating it to his genius. Warland’s work may be a spiritual triumph, but it has little, if any, acceptance in the material world in which he lives. The syntax of the tale devolves upon the four destructions of Owen tlarland' s work. The first of these movements utilizes flashbacks to fill in earlier functions as the story opens with IV, Reconnaissance.

Initial Situation

The society of which Peter Hovenden and Robert Danforth are a part is one based on strength and concrete reality, rational understanding and time (cf. Fogle). It is deficient in a spiritual, aesthetic sense. Owen Warland is quite the opposite of Peter Hovenden.

I. Absentation

Owen is bound over as an apprentice to Peter Hovenden:

"The boy's relatives saw nothing better to be done— as perhaps -300-

there was not— than to bind him apprentice to a watchmaker, hoping that his strange ingenuity might thus be regulated and put to utilitarian purposes" (p. 508). II. Interdiction Hie implicit interdiction is one against "strange

ingenuity." III. Violation After Owen succeeds his master in the little shop, he begins to exercise his strange ingenuity: "... for if I strive to put the very spirit of beauty into form and give it motion, it is for thy [Annie's] sake alone" (p.509). IV. Reconnaissance His former master appears as the villain: "'What can

Owen Warland be about?' muttered old Peter H a v e n d e n . ( p . 504). Robert Danforth also functions as the villain on recon­ naissance: "'Well, but, Owen, what are you about?' asked his old school-fellow, still in such a hearty volume of tone that it made the artist shrink, especially as the question related to a subject so sacred as the absorbing dream of his imagin­ ation" (p. 510). V. Delivery Owen replies with a minimal arvcunt of information: "'Hie perpetual motion? Nonsense!' replied Owen Whrland, with -301- a movanent of disgust; for he was full of little petu­ lances" (p. 510).

VII. Complicity Owen feels himself polluted by contact with Danforth:

"His hard, brute force darkens and confuses the spiritual elsnent within me; but I, too, will be strong in my own way. I will not yield to him" (p. 511). VIII. Villainy But the artist does yield to the blacksmith's influence: "The vapor, the influence of that brute force,— it has bewildered me and obscured my perception. I have made the very stroke— the fatal stroke [to his creation] that I have dreaded from the first" (p. 512). Initial Situation Owen Warland conforms to the mores of the cormunity, finally achieving the pinnacle of social acceptance— regulating the clock on the church steeple. II. Interdiction Peter Hovenden advises his former apprentice: "Only get rid altogether of your nonsensical trash about the beautiful, which I nor nobody else, nor yourself to boot, could ever under­ stand,— only free yourself of that, and your success in life is -302- as sure as daylight (p. 513) . Ill. Violation Owen will not abandon his guest for the beautiful.

Villa. Lack In Owen Warland's pursuit of the butterflies, he becomes more and more aware of the beautiful which society lacks; but, in becoming attuned to the beautiful, he lacks society. X. Beginning Counteraction "Owen Warland felt the impulse to give external reality to his idea as irresistibly as any of the poets or painters who have arrayed the world in a dimmer and fainter beauty, imperfectly copied from the richness of their visions" (p.516). XI. Departure Warland steals into town at night, locking himself into his shop to work. XII.* Negative. Hie First Function of the Donor XIII.* The Hero’s Reaction The artist mistakenly believes that Annie Hovenden will provide the warmth of companionship he needs: "And what a help and strength would it be to him in his lonely toil if he -303- could gain the sympathy of the only being wiocm he loved” (pp. 517-18). XVI. Struggle XVIII.*Defeat

Annie is no donor, however. She is a representative of the world, unsympathetic to Owen's ambitions. Though not intentionally malevolent, she destroys Owen's artistry with a needle. Initial Situation The artist gains a small inheritance and lives riotously. Villa. Lack Owen's equilibrium is disturbed as his spiritual aspect fades: "But when the ethereal portion of a man of genius is obscured, the earthly part assumes an influence the more uncontrollable, because the character is now thrown off the balance to which Providence had so nicely adjusted it" (p. 519). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident A butterfly dispatches the artist on a new search for the beautiful. X. Beginning Counteraction Owen warland announces: "Then it is time for me to be at work!"; (p.520). -304-

XI. Departure By day, (Xren roams the fields; by night, he enters

the town to work. Notification Peter Havenden informs the artist of the engagement of his daughter to Robert Danforth.

XVIII.*Def eat Owen Whrland shatters his work.

Initial Situation Warland goes through an illness.

Villa. Lack "He had lost faith in the invisible..." (P.525). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident "How it [i.e. faith in the beautiful] awoke again is not recorded" (p. 525). X. Beginning Counteraction "'Now for my task,' said he. 'Never did I feel such strength for it as now'" (p. 525).

XI. Departure (Nbrk) Hie artist secludes himself with his work. XVIII. Victory

XIX. Lack Liquidated "It was his fortune, good or ill, to achieve the purpose -395- of his life" (p.527), In accomplishing his purpose, however, he has isolated himself from other men. Perhaps such seclusion is necessary to achieve the beautiful, but for the artist the outcome may be good or ill. XX. Return Hie artist returns to society, "seeking admittance to Robert Darvforth's fireside circle" (p. 527). XXIII. Simple Arrival XXIV. Unfounded Claims Expecting to return in triumph, CWen warland finds a rival center of attention: "Hie artist did not immediately reply, being startled by the apparition of a young child of strength that was tumbling about on the carpet,— a little personage who had came mysteriously out of the infinite but with something so sturdy and real in his composition that he seemed moulded out of the densest substance which earth could supply" (p. 528). XXV. Difficult Task Annie asks Warland what the secret of the beautiful is, "And is it lawful, now, to inquire what the secret is?"

(p.528). XXVI. Solution Owen produces the richly carved jewel box and then releases the butterfly. XXVII.*Recognition— Negative Owen Warland is not recognized as the artist that he is: "He knew that the world, whatever praise might be bestowed, could never say the fitting word nor feel the fitting sentiment which should be the perfect recompense of an artist who, symbolizing a lofty moral by a material trifle,— converting what was earthly to spiritual gold,— had won the beautiful into his handiwork" (p. 532). XXX.* Punishment— Negative The child smashes the butterfly, apparently destroy­ ing Owen Warland's title to aesthetic glory. The false hero would seem to be victorious. XXXI. Ascent to Throne rEhe victory of the false hero is only an apparent, superficial one. Owen Warland has achieved artistic fruition: "When the artist rose high enough to achieve the beautiful, the symbol by which he made it perceptible to mortal senses became of little value in his eyes while his spirit possessed itself in the enjojment of the reality" (p. 536). Unlike the glory of his artistic triumph, however, Owen's isolation remains -307- "Endicott and the Red Cross" In Studies in Classic American Literature, D. H. Lawrence writes: "The artist usually sets out— or used to— to point out a moral and adorn a tale. The tale, however, 3 points the other way, as a rule." In "Endicott and the Red Cross," there are two attitudes: the narrator's and the tale's [towards the Puritans as exemplars of democratic principles]. The narrator frames his tale with attestations of royal absolutism and Puritan democracy. In the epilogue, the narrator writes that Endicott's actions manifest "the first amen of that deliverance which our fathers consummates after the bones of the stem Puritan had lain more than a century in the dust" (p.494) . The prologue gives an account of the "bigoted and haughty primate, Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury"

(p.485). Despite this framework, the bulk of the tale stresses Puritan rigidity. In contrast to the milder Reverend Roger Williams, who historically found it necessary to establish Rhode Island as a refuge from Puritan intolerance, Endicott, the avowed champion of freedom, displays an adamant rigidity which seems incongrous with his speech on liberty.

3 (New York: Viking, 1964), p.2. -308-

Bnbued with a concept of his own righteousness, Endicott can sumnarily answer the ocnplaint of the wanton Gospeller: "'What hast thou to do with conscience, thou knave?' cried he. 'I said liberty to warship God, not license to profane and ridicule him. Break not in upon my speech, or I will lay thee neck and heels till this time to­ morrow!'" (p. 491). But the heretic is not the only one whom Endicott brushes aside. As the military leader of the society wielding both Bible and sword, he shares consular power with the representative of religious authority, Reverend Roger Williams; however, the man of iron dictatorially dis­ regards his partner in rule when the latter tries to temper Endiotrtt's ad haninem assault on the Stuart monarchs: "'Hold thy peace, Roger Williams! * answered Endicott, imperiously. 'My spirit is wiser than thine for the business now in hand*" (p. 492). The famous Endicott, "a man of s t e m and resolute countenance" (p. 486), sunmarily usurps power in the defense of liberty. m contrast to this stem, resolute, and imperious representative of civil power, Roger Williams presents quite a different character: "His aspect was perfectly that of a pilgrim, heightened also by apostolic dignity. Just as Endicott -309- perceived him he laid aside his staff, and stooped to drink at a bubbling fountain which gushed into the sunshine about a scare of yards fran the corner of the meeting-house. But, ere the good man drank, he turned his face heavenward in thankfulness, and then, holding back his gray beard with one hand, he scooped up his single draught in the hollow of the other" (p. 489). Unlike Endicott's harsh rebuke of the wanton Gospeller's query, "Call you this liberty of conscience?" (p.491), the minister's response seems compassionately sub­ dued: "A sad and quiet anile flitted across the mild visage of Roger Williams" (p. 491). Perhaps the real defender of liberty in this tale is not Endicott at all but the good clergyman of apostolic dignity. For all of the narrator's espousals of Puritan democracy, the spirit of Endicott rather than of Williams pervades the society. Endicott's breastplate serves as a reflection of the

Puritan ocmnunity. At the center of the theocracy is the prayer house? hcwever, not far away is the whipping post, "that important engine of Puritan authority" (p. 486). Other instruments of exorcising non-conformity are: 1) the pillory, presently gracing the heads of an Episcopalian and a suspected -310-

Catholic; 2) stocks, encircling the ankles of a man who drank boisterously to the king's health; 3) the meeting-house steps, exhibiting a wanton Gospeller and an unruly wcman; 4) shears for cropping ears; 5) branding irons far impressing malefactors of their sins; 6) a halter to ring the neck of a man as a public memento of his crime; 7) a letter "A" to display the infamy of adultery. Significantly, there is only one house of prayer while the instruments of punishment are myriad. Perhaps such an imbalance is emblematic of the existence of only one, true church and of the many forms of vice assaulting it; or, perhaps, it indicates the very lack of freedom in

Puritan society. PErhaps Lawrence is partially correct in his assessment of the Puritans who came to America: "They were black, masterful men, they wanted something else. No kings, no bishops maybe. Even no God almighty. But also no more of this new 'humanity' which follcwed the Renaissance. 4 None of this new liberty which was to be so pretty in Europe." The form of this tale is twofold. The ostensible narrative depicts Ehdicott as the hero who takes immediate action once the misfortune takes place; hcwever, Endicott also

4 Lawrence, p.5. -311- partakes of the functions of a villain as he imperiously overrides the authority— and tolerance— of Roger Williams. Initial Situation— the Ostensible Narrative The opening scene depicts the Puritan caimunity as reflected in Endicott's breastplate. VIII. Villainy IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Roger Williams brings the dispatch from Governor Winthrop to Endicott, telling of the plan to send a royal governor to New England and asking far restraint. X. Beginning Counteraction Endicott decides to take action as he addresses the people; he orders the banner to be lowered (pp. 491-93). XI.* Departure The rending of the red cross from the banner is a symbolic break frcm England. XIX.* lack (Partially) Liquidated The tyranny of English rule is partially liquidated by Endicott*s action: "we look back through the mist of ages, and recognize in the rending of the Rad Cross frcm New England's banner the first omen of that deliverance which our fathers consummated after the bones of the stem Puritan had lain more than a century in the dust" (pp. 493e94). -312-

Initial Situation— Endioott as Villain Endicott*s breastplate reflects Puritan intolerance. IV. Reconnaissance Endicott here functions as a villain surveying a challenge to his authority: "But, as Endicott glanced right and left along the front, he discovered a personage at sane little distance with whan it behooved him to hold a parley"

(p.488). VI. Trickery Endicott addresses Roger Williams in a guise of canradery: "'What, hoi good Mr. Willians,' shouted Endioott. 'You are welcome back again to our town of peace. How does our worthy Governor Winthrop? And what news fran Boston?'" (p. 489). The town is certainly not peaceful as Endicott has just addressed his troops with these wards of peace: "Let us show these poor heathen that we can handle our weapons like men of might" (p.488). later the soldier dismisses "worthy" Governor Winthrop, damning him with faint praise:

"'The Governor is a wise man— a wise man, and a meek and moderate,' said Endicott, setting his teeth grimly. 'Nevertheless I must do according to my own best judgment'" (p.490). Still later he will tell Roger Williams to hold his peace. -313-

VII. Complicity The minister remains quiet, unlike the wanton

Gospeller. VIII. Villainy Endicott usurps control: '"Hold thy peace, Roger Williams!' answered Endicott, imperiously. 'My spirit is wiser than thine for the business now at hand'" (p.492). Thus, the s t e m rigidity of the initial situation expands in power as Endicott crushes the meek tolerance of Roger Williams.

"Ethan Brand" "Ethan Brand" is a study of unbalanced human nature— a nature which should consist of an equilibrium between mind 5 and heart. In this study, not a single major character is able to maintain the counterpoise between both poles of human nature. Ethan Brand quests for the mind to the loss of his heart. Joe is a child and has the child's natural alliance to the heart. The stagecoach agent. Lawyer Giles, the village doctor, and even Joe's father are exemplars of mediocrity not in that they maintain a golden mean but in that they are

5 For a fuller discussion see Donald A. Ringe, "Hawthorne's Psychology of the Head and Heart," PMLA, 65 (1950, 120-32. -314- deficient in both heart and mind, submerging their humanity

in drink. Like Faust, Ethan Brand seeks to beccme more than a man and in the attempt loses his humanity: Then ensued that vast intellectual development, which, in its progress, disturbed the counterpoise between his mind and heart. The Idea that possessed his life had operated as a means of education; it had gone on cultivating his powers to the high­ est point of which they were sus­ ceptible; it had raised him frcm the level of an unlettered laborer to stand on a starlit eminence, whither the philosophers of the earth, laden with the lore of universities, might vainly strive to clamber after him. So much for the intellect.' But where was the heart? That, indeed, had withered,— had perishedJ (pp.494-95).

His search for the idea that informs his life, the Unpardonable Sin, leads him to conduct one psychological experiment, to be the detached observer of life rather than to participate in

it. Even the substance of this scientific cultivation of the mind may be unreal. What is in the Wandering Jew's showbox— the

Unpardonable Sin or nothing? Perhaps Ethan Brand recognizes the relationship of his quest to a dog running after a tail that is far too short to catch: "Meanwhile, Ethan Brand had resumed his seat upon the log, and moved, it might be, by a -315- perception of some ranote analogy between his own case and that of this self-pursuing cur, he broke into the awful laugh, which, more than any other token, expressed the condition of his inward being" (p.492). This laughter expresses both a self-deprecatory attitude towards himself and a scorn toward others. It is the sensory enblan of Ethan Brand's divorce from carmen humanity: "And then, without mirth in his countenance, but as if moved by an involuntary recognition of the infinite absurdity of seeking throughout the world for what was the closest of all things to himself, and looking into every heart, save his own, for what was hidden in no other breast, he broke into a laugh of scorn" (p.482). The night that witnesses his embrace of fire manifests a "fearful peal of laughter" (p.496) that arouses "dim shapes of horror and anguish" (p. 496). His laughter expresses the cacauphonous discord within his own soul; as the little boy observes, "he does not laugh like a man that is glad" (p.477). Little Joe's simple yet incisive judgment on Ethan Brand's laughter exemplifies the boy's intuitive empathy with his sur­ roundings. Although not yet a rational being, his instinctual power of perception is acute. He feels the mystery of evil -316- which infuses Ethan Brand's being: "The little boy, all in a tremble, whispered to his father and begged him to shut the door of the kiln, so that there might not be so much light; for that there was seme thing in the man's faoe which he was afraid to lock at, yet could not look away frcm" (p.480).

Joey's perspicacity is matched or perhaps excelled by his tenderness even for the sinner: "As the boy followed his father into the hut, he locked back at the wayfarer, and the tears came into his eyes, for his tender spirit had an intuition of the bleak and terrible loneliness in which this man had enveloped himself" (pp.493-94). The boy's father dismisses such sympathy as being unmanly: "You will never make a man,

I do believe; there is too much of your mother in you" (p.477). Bartram and the three bar flies, however, exhibit a lack of sensitivity and dearth of intellectuality which makes their manhood questionable. Bartram is an "obtuse, middle-aged clown" (p.477) whose lucidity appears to be no greater than the marble he bums. While his son feels compassion for Ethan Brand, he "had been making intimate acquaintance with the black bottle above mentioned" (p.493). For him, the cultivation of the heart is womanish and the growth of the mind nonexistent. -317- 6 Profits are of inmediate concern; the suicide of Ethan Brand means that his kiln is half a bushel richer. Liquor warms his heart and profits stir his brain. The stage-agent would seem to occupy a high social plateau than the lime burner yet he sublimates his humanity in cigar smoke and brandy fumes. Lawyer Giles, presently a soap boiler, drinks himself into manual labor; his greatest harm seems to have been to him­ self. He has maimed himself, losing a hand and part of a foot, yet retains seme dignity. The third representative of the village's professional men is the doctor: "Brandy possessed this man like an evil spirit, and made him as surly and savage as a wild beast, and as miserable as a lost soul..." (p. 487). His supposedly miraculous healing power may some­ times resurrect a dying man or send his patient to an early

6 Bartram wants profits while Ethan Brand quests for knowledge. Leo Marx states that such pursuits portend the demise of .American village culture: "'Ethan Brand* conveys Hawthorne's inchoate sense of the doom awaiting the self-contained village culture, not the institutions alone, but the whole quasi-religious ideology that rests, finally, upon the hope that Americans will subordinate their burning desire for knowledge, wealth, and power to the pursuit of rural happiness." The Machine in the Garden: Technolo­ gy and the Pastoral Ideal in America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1964), p.277. -318- grave. Like the others, the doctor cannot comprehend Ethan Brand. Despite their differences in social rank, these four men exhibit an animality which separates them frcm the seeker of the Unpardonable sin and the child. Such a study of unbalanced and corrupt humanity as this tfile presents manifests a twofold form. Because Ethan Brand has grasped one pole of himan experience, the intellect, he is a hero who has returned to his village with a secret knowledge. Because lie has violated his cwn heart, however, he is a villain. Initial Situation "He remembered with what tenderness, with what love and sympathy for mankind, and what pity for human guilt and woe, he had first begun to contemplate those ideas which afterwards became the inspiration of his life..." (p.494).

VIII. Villainy Villa. Lack The ostensible lade for Ethan Brand is the Unpardonable Sin. In seeking for the Unpardonable Sin and in liquidating his intellectual lade, Ethan Brand is ocrmitting a villainy against himself as his heart calcifies: "Then ensued that vast intel­ lectual development, which in its progress, disturbed the counterpoise between his mind and heart" (p. 494). -319-

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident In formulating the idea of the search for the Unpardonable Sin, Ethan Brand becomes his com dispatcher: "Many years, as we have seen, had now elapsed, since that portentous night when the IDEA, was first developed" (p.478) • No dispatcher announces the villainy he liad perpetrated upon himself. X. Beginning Counter action

Brand decides to quest for the Unpardonable Sin. XI. Depature Brand leaves on his eighteen year search for the Sin. XIX. Lack Liquidated XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated Ethan Brand needs no donor to provide liim with a magical agent to obtain the Unpardonable Sin for the object of his search is witnin his own heart: "And then, without mirth in his countenance, but as if moved by an involuntary recog­ nition of the infinite absurdity of seeking throughout the world for what was the closest of all things to himself, and looking into every heart, save his own, for what was hidden in no other breast, he broke into a laught of scorn" (p.482). But Brand cannot— or will not— counter his vast intel­ lectual development with human sympathy. -320-

XX. Return "He has found what he sought, and therefore he ocmes back again" (p. 481). Brand returns to his village.

XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival Bartran, does not recognize Ethan Brand immediately:

"Good evening, stranger,' said the lime-burner; 'whence acme you so late in the day?"' (p.480). XXVII. Recognition Once Ethan Brand tells Bartram that the stone is almost lime and asks the question, "Did you ever hear of Ethan Brand?" (p.481), Bartran recognizes him" "'What! then you are

Ethan Brand himself?' cried the lime burner, in amazement" (p.481). Bartram tells his son to tell the jolly fellows in tiie tavern of Brand's return. Because the tale is an abortive romance, the narrative function of old Humphrey's daughter and of the Jew of Nuranburg is somewhat unclear. Perhaps the latter was a fiendish donor who assisted the hero to obtain the unpardonable Sin. XXX. Punishment XXXI. Ascent to Ihrone, Wadding Ethan Brand mounts the kiln to wed fire and in doing so destroys himself: " 'O Mother Earth,1 cried he, 'who art no nxsre ray Mother, and into whose boscm this frame shall never be resolved! • • • Gone deadly element of Fire,— henceforth my familiar friend! Embrace me, as I do thee!" (p.496). Perhaps at the end of the tale, nature celebrates both the glory of a hero and the punishment of a villain. Chapter 5

Lack: Not Liquidated; the Rejected on Insufficient Donor

This chapter concerns those tales in which the hero is unable to fulfill a need because he has not responded to a donor positively or because the magical agent which the donor confers is inadequate to liquidate the lack. Cnly three of the tales involve an inadequate donor: "Edward Randolph's Portrait," "Rappaocini's Daughter," and "Hie Pomegranate Seeds." In the rest of the tales in this chapter, the hero rejects the donor.

"The Ambitious Guest"

"The Ambitious Guest" depicts the tension between man's desire to achieve irimortality and his existence in a nature of time-bound actuality which encircles and eventually destroys him. Before the arrival of the ambitious stranger, the family living in the Notch of the White Hills has effected a delicate, if perilous, relationship with nature. Ihey live in danger but not in tension for they harmonize with the environment about them. If the mountain brings cold winds and slides, it also -323- brings the wood for their warmth: Che September night a family had gathered round their hearth, and piled it high with the driftwood of mountain streams, the dry cones of the pine, and the splintered ruins of great trees that had come crashing down the precipice. Up the chimney roared the fire, and brightened the room with the broad blaze. The faces of the father and mother had a sober gladness; the children laughed; the eldest daughter was the image of Happiness at seven­ teen; and the aged grandmother, who sat knitting in the warmest place, was the image of Happiness grown old. They had found the 'herb, heart's ease,1 in the bleakest spot of all New England (p.364). But just as the daughter finishes a jest, the wind rattles the cottage's door, "with a sound of wailing and lamentation" (p.364). Heralded by this banshee-like wind, a traveler lifts the latch and enters. A3 the stranger draws his chair closer to the fire, to the very focus of the family circle, the mountain echoes with the foreboding sound of the wind that first announced the stranger's presence: "'The old mountain has thrown a stone at us, for fear we should forget him,' said the landlord, recovering himself. 'He sometimes nods his head and threatens

to cane down; but we are old neighbors, and agree together pretty well on the whole" (p.366). The guest is not content -324- to be a mountain's neighbor, hcwever, for he possesses a

"high and abstracted ambition" which impels him to seek a monument to perpetuate his memory. The youth believes that such an urge to conquer time is innate to hunan nature: '"There now!1 exclaimed the stranger; 'it is our nature to desire a monument, be it slate or marble, or a pillar of granite, or a glorious-memory in the universal heart of man'" (p.369). His analysis of man's aspiring character seems to be fairly accurate. Soon the family begins dreaming of its own ambitions. The father thinks of being a gentleman farmer; the children want to take a trip to the basin of the Flume; the grandmother wants to be a perfect corpse. As the grandmother's ambition engrosses the household's attention, the mountain does more than merely throw a rode to remind the mortals of its presence: "The Slide! The Slide!" (p.373). Whether or not there is a causal relationship between the entry of Ambition into the cottage and the slide, a tension exists between the initial scene depicting a delicate harmony between man and nature and the final scene in which nature destroys man and his ambitions. The futility of man's efforts to escape the irreversible continuum of time and nature could hardly be more vividly portrayed than in the final action -325- of the family. They run to the barricade which they have built in case of a slide only to find their grave there while the house remains untouched. The simple hearth fire itself seems to represent the antithesis of worldly ambition as the daughter tells the stranger" "'It is better to sit here by the fire/' answered the girl blushing, 'and be comfortable and contented though nobody thinks about us'" (p.368).

Initial Situation The opening scene depicts harmony between man and nature (see the earlier discussion) •

Villa. Lack The youth has a "high and abstracted ambition" (p.367) which he wants to fulfill. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure The youth means to go to Burlington and beyond to fulfill his ambition. XII. The First Function of the Donor The girl offers the youth and, as will became apparent, the family knowledge of the proper aim of man: "'It is better to sit here by this fire,-4 answered the girl blushing, -326-

'and be ocmfortable and contented, though nobody thinks about us*" (p.368)• XIII. 2he Hero's Reaction The girl's advice goes unheeded as her father, grandmother, and brothers and sisters become absorbed in their own ambitions. The father thinks of being a gentleman fanner; the children want to go to the basin of the Flume; the grand­ mother wants to be a perfect corpse.

XVIII. *Defeat. All the ambitions are buried by the slide. The family should have stayed by the hearth fire.

"The Minister's Black Veil" The essential ambiguity of "The Minister's Black Veil" rests upon whether the Reverend Mr. Hooper commits a villainy by separating himself from oonmon humanity or whether he has bestowed upon himself a magical agent of knowledge in the form of a simple black veil. Although his sin in divorcing himself from humanity is perhaps greater than his virtue in imparting the knowledge of evil, Mr. Hooper is both the villain-hero and the hero donor. He has stolen the sunlight from himself and he has granted himself the hidden knowledge which only the hero can obtain. -327-

In his role as his cwn villain, tiie Reverend Mr.

Hooper separates himself from humanity. The intnediate effect of the veil is to sever the pastor frcxn his parishioners. More than one wanan of delicate nerves has to leave the meeting

house upon the entry of the veiled Mr. Hooper. After the service, no one walks with him. Old Sguixe Sanders neglects to invite the clergymn to "dinner and the physician questions

the clergyman'3 sanity. At a wedding, the divorce of the pastor

from society manifests itself in his inability to toast the couple: After performing the ceremony, Mr. Hooper raised a glass of wine to his lips, wishing happi­ ness to the newly married couple in a strain of mild pleasantry that ought to have brightened the features of the guests, like a cheerful gleam frcm the hearth. At that instant, catching a glimpse of his figure in the looking-glass, the black veil involved his own spirit in the horror with which it overwhelmed all others. His frame shuddered, his lips grew white, he spilt the untasted wine upon the car­ pet, and rushed forth into the darkness. For the earth, too, had on her Blade Veil (p. 59). Hot only does the veil siiadow the marriage of others but it prevents his cun union with Elizabeth: "Know, then, this veil

is a type and symbol, and I am bound to waar it ever, both in -328- light and darkness, in solitude and before the gaze of multi­ tudes, and as with strangers, so with ray familiar friends. No mortal eye will see it withdrawn. This dismal shade must separate roe from the world: even you, Elisabeth, can never cane behind it!" (p.62). In removing himself from the sympathetic marriage of all mankind, the clergyman may even prevent his eternal union with God: "All through life that piece of crape had hung between him and the world: it had separated him from cheerful brotherhood and woman's love, and kept in that saddest of a h prisons, his own heart; and still it lay upon his face, as if to deepen the gloom of his darksane chamber, and shade him from the sunshine of eternity" (p.67). The black veil which he sees on every visage in his dying moment may result frcm his own distorted vision. Yet within the shadows of what may be Hooper's dis­ torted vision, a most ambiguous smile lingers. In its most demonic farm, it is a faint trace of the laughtof recognition which announces young Goodman Brown's acknowledgment of evil, or Robin's initiation into a new world in "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," or even Ethan Brand's celebration of his own villainy. When Elizabeth leaves her lover after vaihly attempt­ ing to persuade him to remove his veil, he revels in the means -329- by which he divorces himself fron her love: “She withdrew her arm frcm his grasp, and slcwly departed, pausing at the door, to give one long shuddering gaze, that almost seemed to penetrate the mystery of the blade veil. But, even amid his grief, Mr. Hooper ami led to think that only a material emblem had separated him from happiness, though the horrors, which it shadowed forth, must be drawn darkly between the

fondest of lovers" (pp. 63-63). Before and after the clergy­ man delivers his death-bed speech on the black veil covering every visage, a faint anile gliirmers on his lips. Is his

smile a mockery of the ignorance of those around him? Perhaps he has enshrouded himself within the confines of his cwn knowledge. On the other hand, the faint anile may indicate that Mr. Hooper has retained a trace of his hunanity. As the people of his church drav away frcm him, his smile may express his satisfaction at their retreat or it may manifest that his hunan sympathy has not left him entirely: “He returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and, at the moment of closing the door, was observed to look back upon the people, all of whan had their eyes fixed upon the minister. A sad smile gleamed -330- faintly frcm beneath the black veil, and flickered about his mouth, glimmering as he disappeared” (p.56). The sane ambiguity appears as the delegation from the church, quite without suacess, attempts to dissuade the pastor fron his strange course of action: "There was the black veil swathed round Mr. Hooper's forehead, and concealing every feature above his placid mouth, on which, at times, they could perceive the glimmering of a melancholy anile" (p.60). In speaking to his betrothed,

Hooper's anile appears like a "faint glimmering of light" (p. 62) beneath the shroud of darkness that wraps itself round his person. Despite the horror which his veil instills in others and in himself, he retains his smile: "But still good Mr. Hooper sadly smiled at the pale visages of the worldly throng as he passed by" (p. 65) •

The ambiguity of the smile is a visible sign of the paradox of Reverend Mr. Hooper's life: "In this manner Mr. Hooper' spent a long life, irreproachable in outward act, yet shrouded in dianal suspicions; kind and loving, though unloved, and dimly feared; a man apart from men, shunned in their health and joy, but ever suunonad to their aid in mortal anguish. As years wore on, shedding their sncws above his sable veil, he acquired a name throughout the Mew England churches, and -331- they naiitri him Father Hooper" (p.66). In veiling himself from his congregation, Father Hooper acquires the ability to reach men in sin: "Among all its bad influences, the blade veil had the one desirable effect, of making its wearer a very efficient clergyman. By the aid of his mysterious emblem— for there was no other apparent cause— he became a roan of awful power over souls that were in agony for sin" (p.65).

His first sermon under the veil breathes a "subtle power." His presence seems singularly appropriate at the funeral of a young lady— perhaps because there is some alliance between the two. Whether or not the shade of the girl walks with the clergyman, his mask emanates the shade of death and sin to his congregation. The minister’s very mission is to remind his congre­ gation of the darker aspect of life. If Mr. Hooper lives too much in the shade of his veil, his parishioners seem to live too much in the sunshine without a thought of sin and death. The initial scene presents the people with hardly a care in the world: "The aexton stood in the parch of Milford meeting-house, pulling busily at the bellrope. The old people of the village cone stooping along the street. Oiildren, with bright faces, tripped merrily beside their parents, or mimicked a graver gait, in the conscious dignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce bachelors locked sidelong at the pretty maidens, and fancied that the Sabbath sunshine made them prettier than cn Meek days" (p. 52). Yet if Father Hooper is a more efficient clergyman in ministering to the dead, dying, and sinful, he is less of a man in shielding himself from simple human affections. The veil is too long and the smile is too faint. His dying hour, like Goodnan Brown's, speaks of universal glocm unredeemed by human love. In spreading his gospel of secret sin, he has forgotten the gospel of love: "When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend; the lover to his best beloved when man does not vainly shrink frcm 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! an every visage a Black Veil!

(p. 69). The form of the tale is twofold. In one view of the tale the Baverend Mr. Hooper is the villain-hero in one narrative and the rejected hero in the other.

Initial Situation The opening saene depicts a pleasant, sunny Sunday: -333-

"2he aextcn stood in the porch of Milford meeting-house,

pulling busily at the bell-xope. Mie old people of the village

cane stooping along the street. Children, with height faces

tripped merrily beside their parents, or mimicked a graver

gait, in the conscious dignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce bachelors looked sidelong at the pretty maidens, and fancied that the Sabbath sunshine made them prettier than on week day?"

(p. 52).

VIII. Villainy 4. The Villain Seizes the Daylight "There was but one thing remarkable in his appearance.

Swathed about his forehead, and hanging down over his face, so

low as to be shaken by his breath, Mr. Hooper had on a black veil. On a nearer view it seemed to consist of two folds of

crape, which entirely concealed his features, except the mouth and chin, but probably did not intercept his sight, further than to give a darkened aspect to all living and

inanimate things" (p. 53). The minister has functioned as his own villain, stealing the sunlight from himself.

Ik. Mediation, the Connective Incident The people make their pastor aware that what he has done constitutes a villainy in their eyes. After the service -334- no one walks with him; old Squire Sanders does not invite him to dinner; the doctor questions the minister's sanity. At a wedding, a mirror announces the misfortune to the clergyman:

"At that instant, catching a glimpse of his figure in the looking-glass, the blade veil involved his own spirit in the horror with which it overwhelmed all others. His frame shuddered, his lips grew white, he spilt the untasted wine upon the carpet, and rushed forth into the darkness. For the earth, too, had on her Black Veil" (p.59). The minister's misfortune seems to spread to the entire world. XI. Departure

The Reverend Mr. Hooper does not physically leave his home and congregation; however, he does seem to separate himself frcm his fellow htmans by entering the realm of the dead, especially at the funeral of the young lady: n,I had a fancy,' replied she, 'that the minister and the maiden's spirit were walking hand in hand" (p.58). XII. The First Function of the Donor Three delegations attempt to dissuade the minister frcm continuing his self-inflicted villainy. All three dele­ gations climactjcally offer him hunan oamunion. His congre­ gation ineptly and rather uncomfortably offers him a chance -335- to rejoin the people. Elizabeth, his betrothed offers him human love. The Reverend Hr. Clark of Westbury implores that Hooper lift the veil on earth so that it will be lifted for eternity. 1. The church sends an embassy to the minister, but the deputies sit "speechless, confused, and shrinking."

2. Elizabeth asks her betrothed to "let the sun shine fron behind the cloud" (see pp. 61-62). 3. The Reverend Hr. Clark asks him to remove the veil, kill. The Hero's Reaction 1. Because the church's deputies are unable to discuss

the matter, the minister's reaction is obviously ncnocmnittal. 2. The minister rejects Elizabeth's plea: "This disnal shade must separate me frcm the world: even you,

Elizabeth, can never come behind it!" (p.62). 3. Father Hooper spurns Hr. Clark's entreaty: "When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend; the lover to his best beloved; when man does not vainly shrink frcm the eye of his Creator, loathsomely

treasuring up the secret of his sin; then deem me a monster, for the symbol beneath which X have lived

and die! I look around me, and, lo! an every visage -336-

a Blade \feill" (p. 69).

XVIII.*Defeat Mr. Hooper dies with his vision of evil.

But the Reverend Mr. Hooper may also have heroic qualities. The sunny pleasantry of the opening scene may shew

the people's lack of a sense of sin and death (Villa.). Detect­ ing this lack (IX), the minister may decide to take counter­

action (X), by withdrawing himself fron the world of his congregation. In some manner, he obtains the black veil (XII—XIV). The story opens with his return to his congregation.

XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival "With one accord they started, expressing more wonder

than if some strange minister were coming to dust the cushions of Mr. Hooper's pulpit" (p.52). XXVII. Recognition "'Of a certainty it is good Mr. Hooper,' replied the

sexton" (p. 53). XXXI.* The Hero Is Hot Married and Does Not Ascend the Uirone The balance of the tale concerns the refusal of the congregation, of Elizabeth, and of Reverend Mr. Clark to accept his rule: "Among all its bad influences, the black veil had the one desirablt effect, of making its wearer a very efficient -337- clergyman. By the aid of his mysterious emblem— fear there was no other apparent cause— he became a man of awful power over souls that were in agony for sin"

"The Man of Adamant” The basic bipolar opposition in "The Man of Adamant” focuses on the petrifying effect of Richard Digby's fanatical isolation and on the humanizing potential of Mary Gaffe’s love. The narrator adopts a broad, tongue-in-cheek irony in depicting the absurdity of Richard Digby’s quest for religion. Prominent instruments in effectingtthe zealot's salvation are sword and gun? "So Richard Digby took an axe, to hew space enough for a tabernacle in the wilderness, and some few other necessaries, especially a sword and gun, to smite and slay any intruder upon his hallowed seclusion; and plunged into the dreariest depths of the forest” (p.565). Obviously the Church Militant figures prominently in his theology. In addition to investing the Christian principle of love, Richard Digby mis­ interprets almost all that he experiences. His senses beocme perverse elements of his own misguided zeal. He seems to be tone deaf: " 'The finger of Providence hath pointed ray way! ’ -338- cried he aloud, while the tanb-like den returned a strange echo, as if sane one within were mocking him” (p.566). Even his sight fails him in the shadows of his cave: "The shadow had grown so deep, where he was sitting, that he made continual mistakes in what he read, converting all that teas gracious and merciful to denuntiations of vengeance and unutterable woe

on every created being but himself" (p.570). He allays his thirst with a drop of the calcifying moisture fron the roof

of the cave. Mary Goffe offers Richard Digby not the petrifying water but a life-giving water of human ocratimion but the per­

verted zeal of the fanatic refuses to partake of anything smacking of cannon love with humans. Before smiting down the

cup of "hallowed water," he casts dewn his Bible, appearing even more devilish while Mary Goffe beoanes more like a

"Sorrowing angel." She offers him Christian fellowship and charity through human love, but he spurns her religion for his cwn theology of isolation. 1. Absentation Richard Digby is separated fron Mary Goffe: "When

he cane a pilgrim to America, she had remained in her father's hall; but now, as it appeared, had crossed the ocean after him, -339- iinpelled by the same faith that led other exiles hither, and perhaps by love almost as holy" (p. 169) • Mary Goffe appears later as a potential donor.

Villa. lack (Desire) The lack is Richard Digby's desire to be closer to

God; however, the religious desire is ocnplicated by the zealot's lack of knowledge and belief in htman love. Unknowingly, he suffers from a physical disease which is an emblem for his lack of hunan love and fellowship: £And here I am put in mind that Richard Digby, before he withdrew himself from the world, was supposed by skilful physicians to have contracted a disease for which no remedy was written in their medical bocks. It was a deposition of calculous particles within his heart, caused by an obstructed circulation of the blood; and, unless a miracle should be wrought for him, there was danger that the malady might act on the entire substance of the organ, and change his fleshy heart to stone" (p.567). IX. Mediation, the Connective incident x. Beginning Counteraction In other words, as his creed was like no man's else, and being well pleased that Providence had intrusted him alone, of mortals, with the treasure of a true faith, Richard Digby determined to seclude himself -340-

to the sole and oonstant enjoy­ ment of his happy fortune. 'And verily,' thought he, 'I deem it a chief condition of Heaven's mercy to myself, that I hold no oannunion with those abominable myriads which it hath cast off to perish (p.564). XI. Departure "So Richard Digby took an axe, to hew space enough for a tabernacle in the wilderness, and sane few other necessaries, especially a sword and gun, to anite and slay any intruder upon his hallowed seclusion; and plunged into the dreariest depths of the forest" (p. 565). XII. The First Function of the Donor "For Mary Goffe had been buried in an English church­ yard, months before; and either it was her ghost that haunted the wild forest, or else a dreamlike spirit, typifying pure Religion" (p.570). This ghost or spirit functions as the donor, thrice offering Richard Digby a cure for his physical and moral disease. 1. .1. "Turn me not away, therefore, nor refuse ray medicine: for then must this dismal, cave be thy sepulchre" (p.569). 2. " 'Gome back with me!' she exclaimed, clasping her hands,— 'cane bade to thy fellow men; for they need thee, Richard, and thou hast ten-fdid need of -341-

them*" (p.569) •

3. She scoops 155 water frcm a bright fountain near

at hand, mingling a few tears with its water and tells her former beloved: "Do this, and thy stony

heart shall become softer than a babe's and all will be well" (p.570). XIII. The Hero's Reaction Richard Digby responds negatively (and tersely) to all three offers. 1. "Away" (p.569). 2. "Perverse wonan" (p.569). 3. He throws the Bible at his feet and throws down

the cup of hallowed water. XVIII.*Def eat Richard Digby beooraes the Man of Adamant.

"Dr. Heidegger's Experiment"

Ihe extended analysis of the tale is in chapter three, group four. Dr. Heidegger offers his friends an opportunity to gain knowledge of themselves but the four are recalcitrant and greet his offer with silence— although they are eager to respond to the scientist when he offers them youth. -342-

"Ehdicott and the Red Cross'1

The extended study of this tale is in diapter four. Endicott's arrogant self-assurance negates the possi­ bility of Roger Williams being a donor.

"The Shaker Bridal” The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. In rejecting Martha as a companion of the flesh as well as of the spirit, Adam denies himself the opportunity of binding the wanan’s sympathy and love to his drive for success.

"Edward Randolph's Portrait” The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. Although Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson sees the magical agent, the portrait of Edward Randolph, it is not sufficient to prevent him from abdicating his support of the king.

”Tte Birthmark” The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. Aylmer ignores the physical reality which Aminadab represents. Because of the scientist's blindness to his eervant, -343- he persists in his quest to eliminate his wife's birthmark.

"The Intelligence Office"

The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. Other than the men searching for truth, the characters who approach the Maui of Intelligence ask him the wrong questions.

"Rappaccini's Daughter"

The poles of Hawthorne's tale "Rappaccini's Daughter" consist of a selfish concern to satisfy one's own curiosity or fancy as opposed to an unselfish human sympathy and love; how­ ever, the poles are not in equilibrium. Because Dr. Rappaocini,

Dr. Baglioni, and Giovanni cannot mediate between their curi­ osity, or scientific interest, and love, the tale results in the sacrifice of Beatrice. Dr. Rappaccini has created his own garden of paradise, "that Eden of poisonous flowers." But in attempting to assume the power of a god, the man of science has ignored the fact that he is a man. Dr. Pietro Baglioni describes him as one who uses mankind to serve science: "But as for Rappaccini, it is said of him— and I, who know the man well, can answer for its truth— that he cares infinitely more for science than I .t.' - *• ■*• * J 3 W m •:-.i < UA-. •:h *v * -344-

Hispatients are interesting to him onlyas ^.sfejects'.'for' seine• new :ex|wriirantt* (pi 1X6). .: Perhaps; Baglioni's

■ .... professional jealousy makes his words suspect, but his insight into theextreme scientific character seem? no less valid for that reason, Er; Rappaccini is more intent on the suocess of 7 ; ' his oroeriment than on the happiness of his hurnah suspects— : even if one of them is his own daughter..; Before the fatal . conclusion of the tale, he beams with his "triumph": "As he drew near, the pale man of science seemed to gaze with d triumphant expression at the beautiful youth and maiden, as might an artist who should spend his life in achieving a picture or a group of statuary and finally be satisfied with his success" (p. 146) . In attempting to maintain complete experimental control over his laboratory, animals, hehas destroyed ids own child. ■;■ Baglioni is likewise a man of science and his villainy results from failure to recognize in himself those sane :;V characteristics which he detects in his rival, Rappaccini. She narrator suggests that Baglioni's warnings to Giovanni may stem frcm causes other than unbiased indifference: "The youth might have taken Baglioni1 s opinions with many grains of allowance had he known that there was a professional warfare ;

’1’{ { * i-'*

- T-. v.ft?;.:•'{■ -^ -y '■ -••:' ^ = ."'-V--' H 4^ ■: • • ■.'••-:.?-,f' •••■:-■-•;.-• V : •-> •;■-•-■:;■*•*. v •■V>-W;v *« ■,- ;- ^ v;;: ^ o , ;r - ;^'.::-^J-;;.v -345- . . '.:.•.:<*•/,>•> .-•••.•;•, • • ••> • iv ^ .'•• V , ■ - , • •• . -,<; V - f . ‘ ■ : / ,-• . ■ C ' -r- ■: * v , • ' •; ;.. I i.t+A*.-' i: .V r - » ' < v V ; «•'•' :■/» -;>•* -'-4j , - -- -' .'-V - ' -'•■.• ! ‘ ,■ ‘ , 1 ' ■ iY J.'• . . r'^ 'i - ' Ky^-^^of/'lDCTg'^odntlruianoQ,fj*t •, '} 4 iw.\* • ' ‘ i ' ^ "*" * L;r;. generally thought;'.to have gai

•!? (p^3j^)';^ advisej: ioe^ allow iiLs yearxiing 'fear;a^Lentl- 1, ^ faitQe tb doniijiate his decisions on men and women. Perhaps 1 ■ ’ in jest, but perhaps more seriously than he vrouM admit:, Bag-

yary conscious of Bealurioe's power as a riyal and may v . ;; ‘r evenr fear its ”... she is already qpaHfied to fill a pro- '::V fessor' a chair. Perchance her father destines her far mine!" (p.118) • Even at . the end of tiie tale, when his antidote has • • ' proven just as deadly to Beatrice as Rappaccini's poisons would to others. Professor Baglioni is more intent on baiting hiis ocropetitor than on observing the effect liis science has • on the girl— himan acropassion for her being, of course, / • "unscientific"s "Just at that moment Professor Pietro Baglioni looked forth frcm the window; and called loudly, in ■•/'.y:..;: : a tone of triftnph mired with horror, to the thunderstricken man of scienoe,— ’Rappaocini! Rappaccini 1 and is this the upshot of your experiment! *" (p. 148) • Even the student end would-be lover, Giovanni, partakes : of the scientists' shallowness of feeling. 'When first oxtering the garden, he seems to be drawn more by his curiosity tlian by . affection: ".. • and yet, strange to say, there cane across him

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T, . v *K: 1 .,*>-- ■ & M & ’ . , * i **■ t (

-346-; S S I ® # ® ® sudden;sukfeh.d^^ doubt whether. -1 this intense interest on his part | j V 'V" ' ■ '" ( ^'rV ■■ ", '■('. \ ^ ,,'t' .‘-' ■/ 1 ;"- nV- were - not; delusory? whether it were really of so deep and positive justify him in now thrusting himself into an incal- y position?, whether it were not merely the fantasy of a ■V/lr^r.v.y001^ man*s.brain,' only slightly or not at all connected with \"tl»^aaoc(Leorkl£^ perhaps more of

; ; i l . himself than of Beatrice, the young man looks into the mirror. /Che narrator notes, however, that the reflection is not at all handsome: ". •, yet, as displaying itself at that troubled and feverish moment, the token of a certain shallowness of feeling and insincerity of character11 (p. 140). The lover of himself berates Beatrice "with the same fiendish soom" (p. 144) when he realizes that his beautiful features emanate poison. v: His .selfishness destroys Beatrice as much as Dr. Bappauecini's' , upbringing and Baglioni*s antidote:: "O, weak, and selfish, and unworthy spirit, that could dream of an earthly union and earthly happiness as possible, after such deep love had been so bitterly wronged as was Beatrice's love by Giovanni's blighting wards!" (p.145) • Beatrice's last words attest his villainy: - "Oh, was there hot, from the first, more poison in thy nature than in mine?" (p. 147) •

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M$j0$ ' m f s m y m m m »'N*c-V-^ v' * ■V ■; \\;r: v v -.-v -347t - three characbersthen share in the function of the iSft&Safe \dllain..Giovaimii3 ■; net* hero enough to rescue the distressed-"-'•:. r;: ' • \ - ‘-'i -T Sj‘ t J-i--'••■-* riel-.'* ~ -j. * s :■ " ’ 4 • ' i ' V j-i ~ : ‘ - • „v v: "’■'S': % (' •■■ft - -v'V •'■•t » '-. !•' ...•'. L . ;* j . ■' ,* • certainly isolated— -damsel; nor is Baglioni's potion sufficient to deiiver Beatrice from the initial villainy oaunitted by her father.: lliere is no rescue from the underworld of tragic human action as the characters, like the former occupant of ; Giovanni*s chamber, partake of the agonies of Dante's Inferno. .V The form of this tale derives its complexity fnom^ theT number of characters participating in the villain's sphere of action. Rappaocini ccmmits the original villainy but his evil is not unique. Giovanni has the twin function of villain— as bucifer entering Paradise— -and of would be hero— as St. George unsuccessfully rescuing the lady. Dr. Baglioni acts as the insufficient donor whose gift destroys the sought-for- person rather than saves her. I. Absentation Giovanni Guasoonti comes to Padua from Naples in order to study. Notification : : Dane Lisabetta tells the student of Dr. Rappaccini's . garden. -348-

IV. Reconnaissance

From his tower, the student resembles the villain surveying his prey, a Lucifer outside of Eden. As of yet, however, Giovanni is merely satisfying his curiosity: "Giovanni still

found no better occupation than to look down into the garden beneath his window" (p. 110). This idle curiosity is an important part of the student's character and, as has been noted, is important in understanding the nature of his villainy.

V. Delivery Giovanni studies Beatrice and learns about her:

"Soon there emerged from under a sculptured portal the figure of a young girl, arrayed with as much richness of taste as the most splendid of the flowers, beautiful as the day, and with a bloom so deep and vivid that one shade more would have been too much" (p. 113). Notification: Dr. Baglioni provides more information about Dr. Rappaccini and his daughter who is runored to have enough knowledge to fill a professor's chair. Giovanni then views Beatrice embracing the shrub and also watches the lizard and insect die when they are exposed to the flower's sap and Beatrice's gaze. VI. Trickery Giovanni throws Beatrice the flcwars ostensibly so that die may "Hear than for the sake of Giovanni Guasoonti" (p. 121); however, the gift may serve only to help satisfy his curiosity. Perhaps he wants to note what effect she will have on the flowers.

VII. Complicity Beatrice accepts the flowers.

VIII. Villainy Villa. Lack (Desire) (Desire) Giovanni feels drawn to Beatrice by love and horror; (Villainy) perhaps he may be the victim of Rappaocini through the unwitting agency of Beatrice: Whether or no Beatrice possessed these terrible attributes, that fatal breath, the affinity with those so beautiful and deadly flowers which were indicated by what Giovanni had witnessed, she had at least instilled a fierce and subtle poison into his sys­ tem. It was not love, although her rich beauty was a madness to him; nor horror, even while he fancied her spirit to be imbued with the same baneful essence that seemed to pervade her physical frame; but a wild offspring of both love and horror that had each parent in it, and burned like one and shivered like the other (pp.1 2 2 -2 3 ). -350-

Notification Baglioni warns the youth that he may be the subject of

Rappaccini's experiment.

XII. The First Rmction of the Donor Dame Lisabetta offers Giovanni knowledge of a hidden entrance to the garden.

XIII. The Hero's Reaction Giovanni gives her a gold coin.

XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent

XV. Guidance Dame Lisabetta conducts Giovanni to the garden.

XIX.* Lade (Partially) Liquidated Giovanni meets with Beatrice, partially satisfying his desire sprung from love and horror: "By all appreciable signs, they loved; they had looked love with eyes that conveyed the holy secret from the depths of one soul into the depths, as if it were too sacred to be whispered by the way; they had even spoken love in those gushes of passion when their spirits darted forth in articulated breath like tongues of long-hidden flane..." (p. 134). The qualifying phrase, "By all appreciable signs," is quite significant as the shallowness of Giovanni's filing is later revealed in more explicit terms. -351-

Vllla. Lack Despite the appearances of love, there are no embraces: . and yet there had been no seal of lips, no clasp of hands, nor any slightest caress such as love claims and hallows" (p. 134). XII. The First Function of the Donor Baglioni tells Giovanni the story of the poisoned girl sent to Alexander the Great. XIII. The Hero's Reaction Because Baglioni "gave instantaneous distinctness to a thousand dim suspicions" (p. 137), the youth is at least

passively receptive. XIV. Provision, or Receipt of Magical Agent Giovanni obtains the antidote.

XVI. Struggle If Giovanni were the true hero, his struggle would be against Dr. Rappaccini's villainy alone; however, he also must struggle against his own shallowness of feeling which prompts him to accuse Beatrice of polluting him: "Giovanni's passion had exhausted itself in its outburst fron his lips. There now came across him a sense, mournful, and not without tenderness, of the intimate and pecul i.ar relationship between -352- Beatrioe and himself" (p.145) • XVIII.*Defeat Beatrice takes the antidote hut it destroys her.

XIX.* Lack (Not) Liquidated As tlie two scientists and the lover stand by, Beatrice dies. Baglioni has been an ineffective donor; Rappaccini lias lost control of his experiment; and Giovanni has been an ineffective hero, destroyed his moral inadequacy. Beatrice's last words to the would-be hero are: "Oh, was there not, fran the first, more poiscn in thy nature than in mine?" (p. 147).

"The Great Stone Face" The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. Although Ernest is the Great Stone Face, he fails to accept this fact. He does not respond to the poet's perception of this truth and thereby remains unaware of his own significance.

"The Miraculous Pitcher" The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group tws. The villagers shut their doors to Jupiter and Quicksilver hnd by the rejection of the potential donors became villains. "The Pygmies" In "The Pygmies," Antaeus and the Pygmy race, both offspring of Mother Earth, function as a burlesque of hunan strength and vainglorious pretense through exaggeration and diminution. Opposed to their pompous self-concern and monstrous power is the hero Hercules who maintains both seri­ ous and even comic aloofness from the earth-born. Antaeus is a gross exaggeration of human strength with an almost comic disposition towards sloth: "It was well for the world that Antaeus happened to be of a sluggish disposition and liked ease better than exercise; for, if he had frisked about like the pygmies, and touched the earth as often as they did, lie would long ago have been strong enough to pull down the sky about the people's ears! But these great lubberly fellows resemble mountains, not only in bulk, but in their disinclination to move" (p.223). Despite his indolence, the giant is quite ready to eliminate any threat to his monstrous dignity: "Even if he had met another giant, Antaeus would liave fancied the world not big enough for two such vast per­ sonages, and, instead of being friends with him, would have fought him till one of the two was killed" (p.217). Antaeus has so disproportionate a view of his own magnificence that -354- he cannot ccmprehend Hercules' nonchalance and uncivilly, threatens his rival in might. But the giant's strength rests solely in the earth and his threats are idle ones when he is removed from his element: "For these earth-born creatures are only difficult to conquer on their cwn ground, but may be easily managed, if we can contrive to lift than into a loftier and purer region" (p.227). Antaeus' inability to embrace the purer regions as well as the earth results in his destruction. Perhaps his one eye signifies the limited range not so much of his physical but of his moral vision.

Like their brother Antaeus, the Pygmies manifest an exalted sense of their own magnificence. When the giant scares the cranes away, the diminutive men betray their own petty vanity? "Then the Pygmy army would march homeward in triumph, attributing the victory entirely to their own valor, and to the warlike skill and strategy of whomsoever happened to be captain- general, and, for a tedious while afterwards, nothing would be heard of but grand processions, and public banquets, and brilliant illuminations, and slicws of waxwork, with likenesses of the distinguished officers, as small as like!" (p.219). After Hercules' victory over Antaeus, one pygmy addresses his fellows with all tiie nationalistic jingoism of supposedly -355 patriotic oratory. According to the pygmy spokesman, Antaeus fell fighting for the national rights and immunities of all Pygmies everywhere. Not only did he die in a just cause but he was defeated "by a miscreat who took him at disadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it can be called) in a way that neither man, nor giant, nor Pygmy ever dreamed of fighting, until this hour" (p.228). There is as much truth in this speech as there is in the Pygmies' glory against the cranes. Antaeus fought Hercules because the earth-born giant was so jealous of liis stature as a giant that he could not tolerate a brother in strength. Hercules wen in a fair fight by holding Antaeus aloft into the purer regions. Thus, by dimunizing the stature and the acocmplishnents of the earth-born tribe, the tale stresses their moral limitations, their lillipution pettiness. Hercules can enjoy Olympian laughter at the expense of the Pygmies, but lie can also appreciate their spiritual worth, even if they cannot. The Pygmy who had made the nationalistic eulogy for Antaeus tells the hero that his soul is "As big as your own!" (p.233). Hercules acknowledges the truth of this statement even while laughing off the pretense -356- of this dwarfish race. Unfortunately it seems as if the earth-born tribe retains its earthly vanity as its history, perhaps, recounts a victory over Hercules.

Initial Situation The opening scene depicts the friendship and co­ operation between the offspring of the Earth, Antaeus and the Pygmies (pp. 213-20). Villa. Lack Yet both the giant and the dwarfish tribe are given to vain pretensions about their powers; thus, the proper sense of moral perspective is the essential lack of the earth-born. Because this lack is a moral one, it constitutes a self- inflicted villainy. XII. The First Function of the Donor Because Antaeus suffers from the innate moral lack of pride in his might, the approach of another giant signals a threat. On the other hand, Hercules comes willing to bestow a sense of courtesy on the earth-born: '"You are a very dis­ courteous giant,1 answered the stranger quietly) 'and I shall probably have to teach you a little civility, before we part'"

(p.223). -357-

XIII. The Hero's Reaction XIX.* Lade (Not) Liquidated Antaeus does not appreciate Hercules' educational program: "Caitiff, you shall go no farther" (p.223). In the struggle which follows, the hero, and not the donor, is hostile. Antaeus' antipathy towards the potential donor is so great that Hercules nust destroy him.

VIII. Villainy Villa. Lack The Pygmies interpret Antaeus' defeat as a villainy perpetrated against them (see the speech on p.228); however, this sane speech reveals the diminutive tribe's own sense of exaggerated self-esteem. The salutation most inappropriately states, "Tall Pygmies and mighty little men" (p. 228). The second half of the salutation contains an ambiguity which the speaker seems to be unaware of. Both physically and morally, the Pygmies are might (i.e. "very") little men.

IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident The orator calls for action against Hercules to preserve the national honor. X. Beginning Counteraction Although the orator offers himself as champion, the -358- whole nation decides to set out against Hercules.

XI. Departure

"Accordingly, all the fighting men of the nation took, their weapons, and went boldly up to Hercules..." (p.230). XII. The First Function of the Donor

The valiant Pygm y addresses Hercules as his tribe attacks. Hercules tests this "hero" by saying, "Pray, hew big may your soul be?" (p.233). XIII. The Hero's Reaction

The Pygmy's answer may be wiser than he is conscious of, "'As big as your own!' said the Pygmy" (p.233). XIV.* (Negative) Provision, or Receipt of Magical. Agent

XIX.* Lack (Not) liquidated With Hercules' departure, the Pygmies seem to have adiieved the vindication of their honor; however, their real moral lack of self-knowledge and of humility still seens to be lacking: "In those histories, perhaps, it stands recorded, that, a great many centuries ago, the valiant Pygmies avenged the death of the giant Antaeus, by scaring away the mighty

Hercules" (p.233). -359-

"The Pcmegranate-Seeds"

The ccnprcmise effected in "The Panegranate-Seeds" whereby Proserpina would spend six months with her mother/ Geres, and six months with her abductor, Pluto, expresses the underlying paradigmatic structure of the opposition between the dark death of winter and autunn and the bright life of spring and sunnier. Morally and emotionally, this paradigm stresses that there must be a balance between joy and sorrow, tenderness and discipline. Ihe full significance of Pluto's realm is complex, encompassing vegetative death, emotional gloom, and man's artificial skill in omanenting the products of nature. Ceres' garden-world does not exist in Pluto's subterranean world for there is no sunshine there. His darkness, his emotional state as well as his physical one; for the King of the Underworld, a smile is an unnatural contortion: "But the duskier it grew, the more did Pluto's visage assume an air of satisfaction. After all, he was not an ill- looking person, especially when he left off twisting his features into a smile that did not belong to them" (p. 302).

But, if the King of Mines seems dusky and gloomy, his palace sparkles with its jewelled radiance and even his oook can -360 prepare all manner of delicacies for Proserpina. In its skillfully wrought luxuriance, Pluto's realm signifies man's ingenuity as opposed to Geres' natural growth. But for all of his inventiveness, the King of the Under­ world needs the moral and emotional sunshine that Proserpina can provide: "And, though he pretended to dislike the sunshine of the upper world, yet the effect of the child's presence, bedimmed as she was by her tears, was as if a faint and watery sunbeam had somehow or other found its way into the enchanted hall" (p.305). By making Proserpina's appeal to Pluto not sexual but emotional and moral, Hawthorne stresses a counter­ balancing of the demands of the light and of the dark. The cxmprcmise leaves Proserpina and her mother Oeres with a little gloom and Pluto with a little sunshine, thus achieving an equilibrium This yoking of joy and tenderness with gloom and severity also surfaaes during Ceres' search for her daughter. Hecate and Oeres temporarily join together; however, Hecate's addiction to despair is too strong; and, as she cannot mingle a vestige of hope with her mood, she leaves Oeres for her cave. Later in her search, Proserpina's mother can pause to be the nurse of Prince Demophoon and to show that maternal gentleness -361- must be balanced with discipline. Although ceres herself appears to be the tenderest of mothers, she upbraids the "weak teiklemess" (p.320) of Demophocn's mother because it costs the bey imnxxrtality. Even tenderness must be tempered in the fire. I. Absentation Mother Geres prepares to leave because "it was necessary to make the harvest ripen more speedily than usual" (p. 296). II. Interdiction Oeres addresses her daughters "But you must take care not to stray away from than, nor go wandering about the fields by yourself. Young girls, without their mothers to take care of them, are very apt to get into mischief" (p.296). III. Violation Proserpina violates the explicit command by straying farther and farther into the fields to gather flowers, finally pulling up a very attractive plant. In uprooting this plant, Proserpina is violating an implicit interdiction not to touch an unknown, possibly venonous plant: "But there was a deep, glossy lustre on the leaves of the shrub and cn the petals of the flowers, that node Proserpina doubt whether they might be -362- poisonous. To tell you the truth, foolish as it may seem, she was halfinclined to turn round and run away" (p.298). VI. Trickery Pluto appears; '"Do not be afraidi• said he, with as cheerful a smile as he knew how to put on. 'Cane! Will not you like to ride a little way with me, in my beautiful chariot?'" (p. 300). But Proserpina does not submit to the deception and calls for her mother. VIII. Villainy Pluto abducts the young girl, carrying her away to his dusky realm. She refuses to submit to the villainy by not eating any food (p. 305). XI. Mediation, the Connective Incident Ceres is alerted to the misfortune by her daughter's shriek: "But, at the sound of Proserpina's shriek, she started, and looked about in every direction, not knowing whence it cane, but feeling almost certain that it was her daughter's voice" (p.307). X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure Oeres leaves in search of her daughter: "So she lighted a torch and set forth, resolving never to came back -363- until Proserpina was discovered" (p.308).

Itotification 1. Hecate informs Oeres of the heavy rumbling of wheels which she heard (p. 312). 2. Pluto informs Ceres that Pluto has carried her

daughter away to his realm (p.314):. Villa. (Subplot) Lack Demophoon suffers: "The infant, it seems, was sickly, (being troubled with its teeth, I suppose,) and would take no food, and was all the time moaning with pain" (p.317). XII. (Subplot) The First Function of the Donor Ceres poses the question, "Will you trust the child entirely to me?" (p.317). XIII. (Subplot) The Hero's Reaction Metanira agrees to Ceres1 terms but violates then by taking Demophoon from the hot coals (p. 319).

XIX.* (Subplot) Lack (partially) Liquidated The lack is only partially liquidated because, although

strengthened to heroic stature, Demophoon will sicken and die.

VIII. Villainy IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

X. Beginning Counteraction -364-

XI. Departure Ceres decides to end her search and employ a new approach. Hoping to obtain lier daughter through blackmail, she catmits her own villainy by cursing the land. Tiie Olympians soon learn of the earth's blight and dispatch Quick' silver to convince Pluto to release Proserpina.

XIX.* Lack Liquidated Quicksilver is successful in persuading Pluto to release Proserpina. VIII. Villainy Proserpina finally participates in her abduction by tasting the pomegranate and swallowing six seeds.

XIX.* Lack (Partially) Liquidated A compromise is effected as Pluto and Oeres share the companionship of Proserpina, thereby mixing darkness with light and light with darkness. CHAPTER 6

Lack Not Liquidated: the Absence of a Donor

In tales having moves in which there is no donor to

assist the hero in liquidating a lack, the most frequent result

is defeat. In the corpus of Hawthorne's tales studied, man alone is far from being self-sufficient. All of the heroes of chapter four, who dispense with a donor in liquidating one lack, fail in fulfilling another, perhaps more important, one. Even Owen Warland who has achieved the beautiful, remains

tragically alone.

"The Hollow of Three Hills"

"The H o l l o 1:; of Three Hills" depicts a vonan in the midst of a Freudian conflict between her id and superego.

The old, withered woman reveals the voices of people speaking of duty to family— the voices of conscience: "And though no voice but his [i.e. the priest's] was heard to speak aloud, still there were revilings and anathemas, whispered but distinct, frcm women and from men, breathed against the daughter who had wrung the aged hearts of her parents,— the wife who had betrayed the trusting fondness of her husband,— the mother who

-365- -366- had sinned against natural affection, and left her child to die" (p.233). In contrast to this sense of duty is the urge of sex. Although the sin which forces the vranan to forsake familial ties is not detailed, certainly her sin enoanpasses a trespass of sexual mores. As the specific nature of the violation becomes more apparent, the husband is revealed, speaking of varan's perfidy, "of a wife who had broken her holiest vows" (p. 232). The physical description of the hbHow formed by the three hills is rich in sexual imagery as it is descriptive of the locale for satanic rites: Dwarf pines were numberous upon the hills, and partly fringed the outer verge of the intermediate hollcw, within which there was nothing but the brown grass of October, and here and there a tree trunk that had fallen long ago, and mouldering with no green successor from its roots. One of these masses of decaying wood, formerly a majestic oak, rested close beside a pool of green and sluggish water at the bottan of tlie basin. Such scenes as this (so gray tradition tells) were once the resort of the Power of Evil and his plighted subjects; and here, at midnight or on the dim verge of evening, they were said to stand round the mantling pool, disturbing its putrid waters in the performance of an impious baptismal rite (pp. 228-29) • The conflict results in so much grief that, in the end, the kneeling woman cannot lift her head. 1 The form of this tale is limited to Notification. The protagonist seeks to know the effects of her villainy on her family and the old crone provides her with it.

"Wakefield”

At the end of "Wakefield," the narrator outlines the tense balance that exists between individuals and systens and between systems to thenselves and to the whole: "Anid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world, individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system, and systens to one another and to a whole, that, by stepping aside for a mcment, a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place forever. Like Wakefield, he may become, as it were, the Outcast of the Universe" {p. 164) . Tb upset the delicate balance of individual to system, Wakefield needs to exercise not Promethean revolt but only a quiet selfishness and other inconscpicuous traits known only to his wife: "Only the wife of his boson might have hesitated. She, without having analyzed his character, was partly aware of a quiet selfishness, that had rusted into

1 Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folktale, trans. Laurence Scott and Louis A. Wagner, 2nd ed. (Austin "arid London: University of Texas Press, (1968), pp.71-74. his inactive mind; of a peculiar sort of vanity, the most uneasy attribute about him; of a disposition to craft, which had seldan produced more positive effects than the keeping

of petty secrets, hardly worth revealing; and, lastly, of what she called a little strangeness, sanetimes, in the good man" (p.155). Even such apparently petty, inconsequential faults

expose Wakefield to the awful doan of divorce frcm mankind. He becomes his own villain, victimizing himself as well as his wife because of his disproportionate sense of his own significance: "The crafty nincanpoqp takes to liis heels,

scared with the idea that, among a thousand such atoms of mortality, her eye must have detected him" (p. 159). In so victimizing himself, Wakefield is unaware of his villainy; he returns hone without knowledge. I. Absentation Initially Wakefield intends his absence to be temporary: "Wakefield himself, be it considered, has no

suspicion of what is before him” (p. 155). Like a child, he is going out to play.

II. Interdiction The narration provides the warning that the temporary

absence is not as innocuous as it seems: "It is perilous to -369- make a chasm in human affections; not that they gape so long and wide— but so quickly close again!" (p.157).

III. Violation Wakefield's "morbid vanity" (p.157) closes him fran lxuman affections as he decides not to return hone.

IV. Reconnaissance Wow functioning as a villain, he surveys the liouse- hold and almost enters. V. Delivery He receives information about how his wife is enduring her sorrow. VI. Trickery "Vfe may suppose him, as the result of deep deliberation, buying a new wig, of reddish hair, and selecting sundry garments, in a fashionunlike his customary suit of brown, fran a Jew's old-clothes bag" (p. 159).

VII. Canplicity In functioning as both sought-far-person and villain, Wakefield is fooling only himself: "'It is but in the next street!' he sometimes says. Fool! it is in another world" (p.160). VIII. Villainy Wakefield meets his wife but runs from her. What -370-

seemed a temporary absence— a mere venial sin of a vain man's whim— has beocnve lasting: "In Wakefield, the magic of a single night has wrought a similar transformation, because, in that brief period, a great moral change has been effected" (p. 158). Wakefield's villainy lias the singular effect "to be still involved in human interests, while he had lost his recipe

rocal influence on them" (p.162). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Wakefield functions as his cwn dispatcher, at

least announcing his physical discomfort: "Shall he stand, wet and shivering here, when his own hearth has a good fire to warm him, and his own wife will run to fetch the gray coat

and small clothes which, doubtless, she has kept carefully in

the closet of their bedchamber?" (p.163).

But Wakefield does not become aware of the original quiet selfishness and vanity which prompted his action. If

anything, his motive for returning is as selfish as ever.

X. Beginning Counteraction XX. Return Wakefield goes up the steps to his house, without knowledge of himself. -371-

"Tiie White Old Maid" "The White Old Maid” is a tale occurring in moonbeams and shadows where everyday, empirical reality becomes less real than the imaginative world projected by the half-light. Even the very indexes of success in the factual world, such as wealth and social position, seem to acknowledge the signi- * ficance, if not the primacy, of the apparently crazed imagin­ ation. The first scene of the tale occurs in the ghostly light of moonbeams illuninating the face of a corpse. Here the illusive shadows manifest a significance that far exceeds the actuality of the scene: "Was there delusion in the moon­ beams, or did her gesture and her eye betray a gleam of triumph, as she bent over the pale corpse— pale as itself— and pressed her living lips to the cold ones of the dead? As she drew back from that long kiss, her features writhed as if a proud heart were fighting with its anguish. Again it seemed tliat the features had moved responsive to her own. Still an illusion!” (p.414). Perhaps the "delusion” of this first scene is merely that and the writhings of a proud heart are only the results of a deception, readily explained by some optical illusion. But, in the shadows of the last scene, -372- if this half-light of the imaginative world consists of delusions, its effect on the townsfolk causes than no small amount of anxiety: "But the general sentiment was opposed to the idea that a third visitant had made application at the door of the deserted house. A few, however, adiiered to this new marvel, and even declared that a red gleam like that of a torcn iiad shone through the great front window, as if the negro were lighting a guest up the staircase. Uiis, too, was pronounced a mere fantasy. But at once the..whole multi­ tude started, and each man beheld his cwn terror painted in the faces of all the rest" (p.424). The patriarchal clergy­ man calms their fears but even he seems to be affected by a "dreary state" of mind as he winds his way through an imaginary throng. As the old man opens the door to a room, even the light from his torch is extinguished, leaving only the moonlight, as in the first scene, to illuminate the climax. In the end, truth itself consists not in empirical measurements but only in the ephemeral glimmer of the moonlight: '"Both dead!' said the venerable man. 'Then who shall divulge the secret? Methinks it glimmers to and fro in my mind, like the light and shadow across the Old Maid's face. And now 't is gane!'" (p.427). -373- In her benign insanity, if indeed this is what typifies her, the White Old Maid is closely allied to the light and shadow glimmering across her countenance from the moment of her pact with her proud and stately rival: "And Edith, tool Was not her white form fading into the moonlight?" (p. 416). She appears in daylight only to accompany funeral trains. Under the moonlight, she visits graves and in doing so seems to spread a magical benediction on those she graces: "Over the hillocks of those favored dead would she stretch out her arms, with a gesture, as if she were scattering seeds; and many believed that she brought them from the garden of Paradise; for tiie graves which she had visited were green beneath the snow, and covered with sweet flowers fran April to November. Her blessing was better than a holy verse upon a tombstone" (p. 417). From innocuous eccentric she rises to assure a signifi­ cant ritual role in the ccmnunity so that "the people of later generations wondered how the dead ever been buried, or mourners had endured their grief, without the 'Old Maid in the Winding Sheet'" (p.417). She becomes the very symbol of death and woe; and, as she walks through the ccmnunity in her "long, loose robe, of spotless purity" (p.419) both proud and humble stand aside. -374-

The moonlit world of death which the Vfiiite Old Maid

represents is the very antithesis to the lively world of the tcwn: "The scene was cheerful and animated, in spite of the sombre shade between the high brick buildings. Here were pcmpous merchants, in white wigs and laced velvet; the bronzed faces of sea-captains; the foreign garb and air of Spanish creoles; and the disdainful port of natives of Old England; ai l contrasted with the rough aspect of one or two back settlers, negotiating sales of timber from forests where axe

had never sounded" (p.418). But, in the end, the vivacity of the crowd deadens as the symbol of death moves through the

populace to the deserted mansion situated so very close to the heart of the town's activity. The crcwd waits only to have its interest aroused by a ooach displaying a coat of arms indicating high social rank. In contrast to the plain, pure white robe of the Old Maid, a woman in magnificent dress, obviously of lofty achievement in the daylight world, emerges from the carriage. The distinction in dress is not the only one between an epitome of worldly success and the embodiment of the moonlight world of woe and death: "As she emerged, the people saw that her dress was magnificent, and her figure dignified, in spite of age and infirmity,— a stately ruin but with a look, at once, of pride and wretchedness. Her strong -375- and rigid features had an awe about them, unlike that of the white Old Maid, but as of sane thing evil" (p.422). In the end, the moonlight reveals this aristocratic, sanewhat sinister wonan kneeling before the throne of the Old Maid, resting her forehead on the "holy knees" (p.427) of her former rival.

Hie ephemeral glitter of the shadcwy light in the old patri­ arch's mind reflects the secret of this tale, if only for an instant: "'Both dead!*said the venerable man. 'Then who shall divulge the secret? Methinks it gliitmers to and fro in my mind, like the light and sliadow across the Old Maid's face. And now 't is gene!'" (p.427). The form of the tale consists of two plots: one concerning Edith and the proud woman in a move initiated by a death and the other concerning the town and Edith in a move initiated by a lack. VIII. Villainy The corpse of the young man reveals an obvious villainy. There is a strong intimation that the proud and stately maid had more than a passive role in his death. She claims ownership of the corpse— a title undisputed by the soft and fragile girl: "'Thine!' returned the other, shuddering.

'Well hast thou spoken! Hie dead is thine!'" (p.415). Earlier -376- the proud girl betrayed "a gleam of triunph, as she bent over the pale corpse11 (p. 414). Finally she asks the fair and gentle girl not to betray her. Although the apparent villain, in subsequent functions this proud girl will perform many of the actions of a hero along with Edith. IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident Edith dispatches her rival on a quest for hardship: "Go, and live many years, and then return, and tell me of thy life. He, too, will be here. Then, if thou tellest of sufferings more than death, we will both forgive thee" (p.415). Edith dispatches herself on the far different mission of being the embodiment of the moonlit world of death. X. Beginning Counteraction "The two maidens joined their hands over the boson of the corpse, and appointed a day and hour, far, far in time to come, for their next meeting in that chamber" (p.415). XI. Departure "The statelier girl gave one deep look at the motionless countenance, and departed— yetturned again and trembled ere she closed the door, almost believingthat her dead lover frowned upon her. And Edith, too! Was not her white form fading into the moonlight? Scorning her own weakness she went forth..." (p.416). As a helper, a Negro escorts her out of the mansion -377-

"with an ugly expression of merriment," perhaps in anticipation of the sufferings greater than death which she may suffer. Edith withdraws from the oarmunity as she becomes more al 1 led to the world of the dead: "She dwelt alone, and never came out into the daylight except to follow funerals" (p.416).

XVI. Struggle XVIII. Victory XIX. Lack Liquidated Edith's initial misfortune is the death of a beloved; now she enters the world of the dead, bestowing meaning on the experience. She serves a ritual function, being a priestess of the dead. She may even impregnate graves with seeds from Paradise: "Over the hillocks of those favored dead would she stretch out her arms, with a gesture, as if she were scattering seeds; and many believed that she brought them from the garden of Paradise; for the graves which she had visited were green beneath the snow, and covered with sweet flowers frcxn April to November" (p.417).

The proud girl also set on a mission, but her success or failure is not yet detailed. -378-

Vllla. Lade (Seoord. Plot) At this point, a second move interweaves itself with tiie first. Absorbed in its everyday concerns, the bustling, daylight world of the town seems oblivious to the "sombre shadows" which the Old Maid represents: "The scene was cheerful and animated, in spite of the sonbre shadows. Here were pompous merchants...11 (p.418). IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident (Second Plot)

The passage of the White Old Maid through the crowd alerts the people to the moonlit world (p. 419) as all make way for her passage. It is questionable whether or not she can function as a donor to the town. She announces mis­ fortune but her moments of interaction with the daylight world are limited to a ritual role in funeral processions and, like the moonlight she lives in, difficult to see clearly. XX. Return XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival The White Old Maid returns to the mansion and then the proud woman arrives in a carriage indicating her high social rank. X. Beginning Counteraction (Second Plot) The venerable clergyman quiets the fears of the people and decides to lead them into the mansion (p.424). XI. Departure (Second Plot) The clergyman opens the door, enters the mansion, and moves with caution as if moving through a crowd (p.425) • XXX.*(Unclear) Punishment, Negative-Pardon XXXI. * (Unclear) Ascent to Throne The White Old Maid sits in a throne of death while the proud lady kneels and places her forehead on the holy knees of her former rival as if in supplication (p. 427). XIX.* (Unclear); lack Liquidated (Second Plot) The effect of the final moonlit scene on the tcwn is uncertain. The half-light seems too ephemeral for the patriarch to give an answer: "Then who shall divulge the secret? Me thinks it glinmsrs to and fro in my mind, like the light and shadow across the Old Maid's face. And new 't is gone!" (p.427).

"The Devil in Manuscript" Hie extended analysis of this tale is in chapter four. Qberon encounters no donor who can provide him with an agent to control his ego; perhaps he does not even experience a dispatcher to announce this lack.

"The Prophetic Pictures" The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. -380-

Although the artist fulfills his need for the picturesque through American characters and scenery, his lack of hunan sympathy and his assumption of god-like powers

find no counterforce. He even seems to be unaware of his failure in moral constitution.

"David Swan" The narrator's Garments at the end of "David Swan"

suggest that the tale is a deliberate counter to the fairy­ tale tradition of the donor who provides the hero with a magical agent (functions XII-XIV in Propp's morphology): "Sleeping or waking, we hear not the airy footsteps of the

strange things that almost happen. Does it not argue a superintending Providence that, while viewless and unexpected

events thrust themselves continually athwart our path, there should still be regularity enough in mortal life to render

foresight even partially available?" (p.218). In this story, life has a rhythm of its own which seems impervious to unexpected events— or even to unexpected interpretations.

While David Swan sleeps, a host of people pass him by, oblivi­ ous of him, scornful of him, admiring him, or making an example of his supposed intenperance. However people may construe his life, the young traveler remains himself, pausing to rest and then waking to continue his journey, all -381- the wnile ignorant of the myriad people wlio could, but do not, affect his life. Not even the fairytale's narrative of the unexpected can alter Ids course. Wealth, Love, and Death pass him by. Villa. Lack IX. Mediation, the Connective Incident

X. Beginning Counteraction XI. Departure These functions are rather hastily described as the narrator focuses his tale on the potential donors or potential villain; however, these functions are of implicit significance as they furnish practical everyday motivation for tiie hero's journey: "We have nothing to do with David until we find him at the age of twenty, on the high road fran nis native place to the city of Boston, where his uncle, a small dealer in the grocery line, was to take him behind tiie counter" (p.211). XII.* The First Function of the Donor This function occurs in potential.

1. "Yet Fortune was bending over him, just ready to let fall a burden of gold. Tiie old merchant iiad lost ids

only son, and had no heir to ids wealth except a distant relative with whose conduct lie was dissatisfied. In such cases, people seme times do stranger things

than to act the magician, and awaken a young man to splendor who fell asleep in poverty" (p.214).

But the merciiant does not act the magician. 2. "Had David formed a wayside acquaintance with tiie

daughter, he would have became the father's clerk, and all else in natural succession" (p. 216).

VIII.* Villainy Tliis is a villainy only in potential as the two rascals leave their prospective victim when they see a dog.

XI. Departure David awakens, hails the stagecoach, and continues his journey.

"Sylph Etberege" The essential bifurcation of the tale "Sylph Etherege" centers an the twin existence of Edgar Vaughan and Edward

Hamilton. In this dichotomy, the miniature of Edgar Vauglian represents an ethereal dimension of man: "Ihe beauty of the pictured countenance was almost too perfect to represent a -383- human creature, that had been b o m of a fallen and world- vrom race, and had lived to manliood amid ordinary troubles and enjoyments and must become wrinkled with age and care. It seemed too bright for a thing of dust, and doomed to crumble into dust again" (p. 512). From the fleshless language of Vaughan's letters, Sylvia Etherege finds an intellectual intimate who becomes her vision of sublimity: "She made a vision of Edgar.Vanghan, and tinted it with stronger hues than a mere fancy-picture, yet graced it with so many bright and delicate perfections, that her cousin could nowhere have encountered so dangerous a rival" (p.510). In contrast to the aerial grace of Henry Vaughan are the dark features, the mockery and malice of Edward Hamilton: "The dark-brewed Edward Hamilton, like the villain of a tale, would often glide through the romance wherein poor Sylvia walked. Sometimes, at the most blissful moment of her ecstasy, when the features of the miniature were pictured brightest in the air, they would suddenly change and darken, and be trans­ formed into his visage" (p.513). Hie dark brows of Hamilton give him an earthiness which Sylph Etherege finds to be a cloud obstructing her view of heaven; his smile and sallow complexion make him appear villainous. Yet liis villainy consists not in melodramatically foreclosing a mortgage or in -384- subjecting the girl to the fate worse than death, but rather in the "revengeful freak" of a wounded vanity which "had been countenanced by this lady [i.e. Mrs. Grosvenor] in the hopes of curing Sylvia of romantic notions, and reconciling her to the truths and realities of life" (p.515). The scheme fails because Sylph Etherege cannot reconcile the dualism of Edgar Vaughan— Edward Hamilton. Early in her life witn Mrs. Grosvenor, she preserves tiie secluded world of her imagination. She is so attuned to her ethereal world that she can

Hamilton smashes the miniature, her beauty assures its most aerial form. Unable to tolerate the terrestial, paradoxical unicn of such antithetical forces as mockery and anguish, she seems to depart for her proper element: " 'Stay!' cried lie, with a strange smile of mockery and anguish. 'Can our sweet Sylph be going to heaven, to seek the original of the miniature?'" (p.517). The paradigmatic structure of this tale stresses the importance of the sought-for person, Sylph Etherege. Because -385- the hero Edgar Vaughan and his helper, Mrs. Grosvenor, are too terrestially dualistic for the sylph-like monism of the girl, they fail in their quest. Mo donor appears to help them. I. Absentation "Sylvia Etherege was an orphan..." (p.509). Villa. Lack (Desire) The ostensible lack in the beginning of the narrative is the marriage of Sylvia Etherege and Edgar Vaughan. Both of them are at first quite passive in feeling any desire for the union because their parents had arranged the marriage: "Their future union had been projected, as the means of uniting two ricn estates, and was rendered highly expedient, if not indispensable, by the testamentary dispositions of the parents on both sides" (p.509). Through corresponding with each other, however, the two become more actively involved in feeling the lack. While maturing, Sylvia acquires such a desire and sympathy for the ethereal that she becomes Sylph Etherege. The third lack is of relatively minor significance. Edgar Vaughan lacks the polish of European education— whatever 3 might be its worth.

3 In "Alice Doane's Appeal," Leonard Doane's twin brother has a European education but it seems to liave corrupted him. XI. Departure Edgar Vaughan goes to Europe to complete his education. This distancing of the two "lovers" is quite necessary for the accelerated spiritualization of Sylph Etherege and, of course, for Edgar's later disguise. XX. Return XXIII. Unrecognized Arrival Edgar disguises himself as Edward Hamilton and presents himself to Sylph {p. 511), revealing himself to his helper Mrs. Grosvenor.

XXIV. Unfounded Claims The vision of perfection which Sylvia has created interferes with her acceptance of the disguised hero: "She made a vision of Edgar Vaughan, and tinted it with stronger hues than a mere fancy-picture, yet graced it with so many bright and delicate perfections, that her cousin could no­ where have encountered so dangerous a rival" (p.510). Edgar compounds the claims of the false hero by his rather vengeful attempts to diminish them. XXV. Difficult Task Edgar must win over Sylph from her drean-like vision. Mrs. Grosvenor appreciates the difficulty of the -387- task: "Truer if my ward could be thus laughed out of her fantastic nonsense, she might be the better for it through life. But then, she is such a delicate creature 1 And, besides, are you not ruining your own chance by putting forward this shadow of a rival?" (p.508). XXVI.* (Negative) Solution Edgar's plan does not work: "For her lover wiled

Sylvia afay fran earth, which seemed strange, and dull, and darksome, and lured her to a country where her spirit roamed in peaceful rapture, cleaning tiiat it had found its hone" (p.513). XXVII. Recognition

XXVIII.Exposure

Edgar attempts to destroy the false hero by smashing the minature: "It was I that created your phantan-lover, and now I annihilate him! Your dream is rudely broken. Awake,

Sylph Etherege, awake to truth. I am the only Edgar Vaughan!" (p.515). By projecting a false hero, Edgar seems to have destined himself for that role in Sylph's eyes. XXXI.* Wedding, Ascent to Throne Sylph Etherege m y wed, but her husband will not be Vaughan, nor will she marry on earth: "Can our sweet Sylph be going to heaven, to seek the original of the miniature?" (p.517). "Old Estlier Dudley"

The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three, group two. Esther Dudley dies, faithful to her king and impervious to the changes going on around her.

"John Inglefield's Thanksgiving" A year before tiie tale of "John Inglefield's Thanks­ giving" begins the blacksmith's household consisting of three men and tiiree women. During tiie year, however, the family lost a motlier to the grave and a daughter to sin, thus dis­ turbing not only the psyche of each member but the very consti­ tution of the group. The tenor of the household loses its equilibrium to assume a grim, grief-stricken, and rigidly masculine character. Hie waking dream of Prudence Inglefield temporarily restores a feminine balance— but only very briefly. The figure of John Inglefield dominates the Thanksgiving feast with his chiseled virility: "Being the central figure of the domestic circle, tiie fire threw its strongest light on liis massive and sturdy frame, reddening his rough visage, so that it looked like the head of an iron statue, all aglow from his own forge, and with its features rudely fashioned on M s -389- own anvil" (p.584). His journeyman, Robert Moore, shares in his physique while the son seems to have the counterpart to his father's muscular power in the strength and severity of his creed. When his daughter returns, the blacksmith rejoices but his joy is subdued by his natural austerity: "Therefore, though naturally a st e m and rugged man, lie could not speak unkindly to his sinful child, not yet could he take her to his bosom" (p.586). What gravity the son's natural constitution lacks, his religion provides: "He advanced and iield out liis hand affectionately, as a brother should; yet not entirely like a brother, for with all iiis kindness, he was still a clergyman, and speaking to a child of sin" (p.586). Affection can overcome Robert Moore's pride and resentment but lie is a lover. In this predominantly masculine scene of stem power and grave authority only the rose of Mary, Prudence's sister, counterbalances the red glcw of the forge. The waking dream of Prudence interjects a feminine presence that reminds a husband of his wife, a son and a daughter of their sister, a lover of his beloved. The figure of Prudence sits in the empty chair next to her father to once again complete the household: "And to John Inglefield she was the very image of his buried wife, such as he remembered her on the first Thanksgiving which they had passed under their own roof" (p. 586). The clergyman loses his severe demeanor to become "as frolickscme as a schoolboy" (p.589) in her presence. Mary forgets that her sister had ever left. Robert Moore experiences a renewed love. At eight, Prudence climaxes her domestic role as she pours her father's cup of herb tea. Site lias suffused the household with her joy and "bewitching pathos" (p.588) so that "John Inglefield's roughtvisage brightened with the glow of his heart, as it grew warm and merry within him; once or twice, even, he laughed till the roan rang again, yet seemed startled by the echo of his own mirth" (pp.588-89). Yet, the figure that the Inglefield household sees is only a waking dream whose penultimate glance reveals the horrible deformity of sin and evil passions and whose last look betrays a futile struggle with the fiend. Perhaps the manentary joy and harmony brings, resembles the initial macabre dance of the shadows on the wall, "with a semblance of fantastic merriment" (p.585). Even in the most scnber scene there is a phantasm of joy and even in guilt there is a waking dream of innocence. The farm is quite simple as the tale is a concentrated study of the effects of a twin villainy: the death of the mother and the sin of the daughter. Tiie liquidation of tiie lade is only temporary and illusory; it has little more sub­ stance than the dancing shadows on the wall. Villa. Lack The Inglefield household has lost its feminine counter to its now sternly masculine character. XIX.* Lack (Temporarily) Liquidated Prudence returns and with her returns joy.

VIII. Villainy The devil recalls his own: "For an instant Prudence lingered and looked back into the fire-lighted roam, while her countenance wore almost the expression as if she were struggling with a fiend, who had power to seize his victim even within the hallowed precincts of her fattier's hearth. The fiend prevailed; and Prudence vanished into the outer darkness" (p.590).

"The Christmas Banquet"

"The Christmas Banquet" is an anatomy of Ixunan dis­ content. The founder establishes his annual feast lest the joy of Christinas drown out man's misery. To replace the decorations of the merrier festival, the banquet regales in the trappings of death: curtains of deep and dusky purple, branches of cypress, artificial flowers, sprigs of parsley, a sepulchral urn of wine, a seated skeleton, and a cypress wreath for the woeful lest. Tliese ornaments of misery, how­ ever, in no way compare to the human examples of anguish. Because of his inability to respond to hunan love and sympathy, Gervaspe Hastings is the woefullest of all. In tiie epilogue, tiie sculptor observes that Roderick Elliston's characterization of Gervayse Hastings is somewhat undeveloped "because the characteristics are all negative" (p.346). Bor all of his apparent success, Gervayse is a nan in a vacuum of emotion, a case history of intellect devoid of the warmth of human feelings. Roderick describes his creation as: "... a being as I could conceive you to carve cut of marble, and some yet unrealized perfection of hunan science to endow with exquisite mockery of intellect; but still there lacks the last inestimable touch of a divine Creator" (p.323). In the first feast graced by Hastings' presence, only the idiot can fathom the reason for his misery: "Gold, cold, cold!" (p.329). During the second banquet described in the -393- stary, he retains his icy calmness when Mr. Smith dies; for him* men liave merely an aerial/ ephemeral unreality: "Men pass before me like shadows on the wall; their actions, passions, feelings are f l i c k e r i n gs of the light and then tliey vanish!"

(pp.337-38). In the final banquet scene, "His shadow had ceased to flicker on the wall" (p.345). Thus, the story does not develop a bipolar structure but anatomizes mere intellect without passion. Because "The Christinas Banquet" is essentially a character sketch and not a tale, its narrative elements are minimal. The moral lack in Gervayse Hastings intensifies as the three banquets take place. There is no dispatcher, hero, or donor, but only a victim. I have included this sketch with the tales to demonstrate tiie bleakness of Hastings' life without a hero or donor to assist him.

"The Artist of the Beautiful" The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter four. With Owen War land's realization that Annie Hcwenden cannot appreciate his work and be the oonpanion of his dreams, it is apparent that the artist will encounter no donor to help Iiim overcome his isolation frcxn the society in which he lives. "The Sncw Image"

The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three group two. The children's father experiences no counter force to his mundane practicality.

"Ethan Brand" Tiie extended analysis of this tale is in chapter four. This hero remains above— or below— any potential doners.

"The Dragon's Teeth"

The extended analysis of this tale is in chapter three group two. In the search for Europa, no donor appears for Cadmus and his company. CONCUUSION

Since the eighteenth century every discussion of folklore and folksong has presupposed an integral relationship between national literary traditions and the body of folk art produced by unsophisti­ cated or even illiterate people. The nature of that relationship, as we shall see, is susceptible of a variety of interpretations, but there has rarely been any question that it exists. Indeed even if we go back to the very beginnings of literary criticism in Western tradition we find the same idea operating. It was, for example, one of the bases for Aristotle's approach in his estimate of the development of Greek literature. 1 (Gene Bluestein, The Voice of the Folk) The relationship between folk culture and literary culture is an ever-evolving one; the two are not necessarily antithetical to each other but rather symbiotic. Within this interdependent relationship, the folk tale is neither merely the primitive basis for literature nor the Gesunkenes Kulturgut of the great writers but is a distinct mode of creativity parallel to written literature. Folklore has its own laws and disciplines as so basic a primer as 2 Brunvand's The Study of American Folklore: An Introduction points out. On the other hand, literature is neither merely folklore given the more fixed form of type of ink nor a mode of expression

1 The Voice of the Folk; Folklore and American Literary Tradition (Amherst: university of Massachusetts Press, 1972), p. 1.

2 (New York: Norton, 1968), pp. 1-27.

-395- -396-

inherently superior to folklore. Each has its function; each has its laws. Yet, in the creation of narratives and— more specifically— in the creation of Hawthorne's narrative, the two forms coalesce to produce a story which manifests the interrelation­

ship of folktale and literature most strikingly. This union is particularly apparent in the nature of Hawthorne's concept of the romance as a specific genre. In the first chapter of this study, I referred to the possible correlation between Hawthorne's formulation of the romance as a genre distinct from the novel and how this formulation is related to the infusion of folkloristic forms and structures into his tales— an infusion which is most certainly subconscious in 3 nature. As the preceding analysis has demonstrated, Hawthorne's artistry reflects a complex interweaving of Proppian functions and bipolar structures with literary conventions such as the opening in medias res and the use of a frame. When Hawthorne was composing tales that seem to be so uniquely his— "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," "Young Goodman Brown," and even "Howe's Masquerade"— he concentrated

3 For an analysis of literary influences on Hawthorne see: Neal Frank Doubleday, Hawthorne's Early Tales, A Critical Study (Durham, North Carolina? Duke University Press, 1972). -397- his narrative on a limited set of functions, eight through nineteen; yet, within this finite set, he produced a narrative so rich in texture that it is a continual source of study and appreciation. Often a tale maty begin in medias res as does "My Kinsman, Major Molineux" in which case there are two time-lines. One of these time-lines concerns the sequence of events as the reader encounters them; the other derives frcm the functions as they occur to Robin. This interweaving of time-lines is no mere nod to Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, but in its interlaced threads is an essential feature of Hawthorne's romance. Like Robin, the reader sees the past as a dynamic factor in the fleeting present. Such a relationship lies at the very core of a romance as Hawthorne himself notes in the "Preface" to The House of the Seven Gables: The point of view in which this Tale ocmes under the Ranantic definition, lies in the attempt to connect a by-gone time with the very Present that is flitting away from us. It is a Legend, prolonging itself, from an epoch now gray in the distance, down into our own broad daylight, and bringing along with it some of its legendary mist, which the Reader, according to his pleasure, may either disregard, or allow it to float almost imperceptibly about the characters and events, for the sake of a picturesque effect, the narrative, it may be, is woven of so humble a texture as to require this advantage, and, at the same time, to render it the more difficult of attainment. 4

4 Centenary ed. (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1965), p.l. -398-

This living presence of the past in the ephemeral present is one of the marks of the romance. •Hie entrance— and sometimes the exit— to this fictional world where past and present intermingle often obliges Hawthorne to employ a frame. "My Kinsnan, Major Molineux" is preceded by a brief account of the historical situation at the time the narrative takes place. "The Custom House" transfers the reader from the present world of ccrmerce and party-politics to the past world of Hester's sin and the effects of this sin. The Tangle- Vfood Tales and A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys introduce the mythic world of Greece and Heme through a description of a college student who sfc-r ds his vacations by amusing children. But of all the tales, perhaps those included under the heading

"Legends of the Province House" use the frame most completely. The narrator of these tales must physically remove himself from the distractions of mod e m Boston and enter into Thomas Waite's tavern. But a sense of place is not enough for there must be both oral tradition and written in order for "Howe's Masquerade" or "lady Eleanor's Mantle" to emerge. These tales, and more especially the tales in the context of the frames surrounding then, reveal the interwoven texture of present with past, of- modem, democratic Boston with colonial, aristocratic Boston.

What creates this tapestry is the old raconteur and the young -399- writer— the union of a folk tradition with a literary one. Not only do two time-lines converge but so do two inodes of narrative. Such a convergence of contrasting modes is endemic to the

guest of Hawthorne's heroes. Many heroes ostensibly initiate their quest for sane irnnediate, tangible end. In "My Kinsman, Major

Molineux” Robin seeks a position in the world; in "Hie Ambitious Guest," the young man seeks his destiny. Other heroes consciously seek more abstract goals such as Ethan Brand's search for the unpardonable sin or Young Goodman Brown's rendezvous with evil. Yet, no matter what the intent of these heroes, there is a second move which assumes a moral dimension, which parallels and even 5 supercedes the original guest. Thus, Hawthorne often interlaces the two traditional aims of literature: to teach and to delight.

He is simultaneously both the artist of the beautiful, creating his butterfly, and a moralist, delivering his homily: When romances do really teach anything, or produce any effective operation, it is usually through a far more subtle process than the ostensible one. The Author has considered it hardly worth his while, there­ fore, relentlessly to impale the story with its moral, as with an iron rod— or rather, as by sticking a pin through a butterfly— thus at once depriving it of life, and causing it

5 See Chapter 3, section 2, and Chapters 4 and 6 of this dissertation for more examples of this movement. -400- to stiffen in an ungainly and unnatural attitude. A high truth, indeed, fairly, finely, and skilfiilly wrought out, brightening at every step, and crowning the final development of a work of fiction, may add an artistic glory, but is never any truer, and seldom any more evident, at the last page than at the first. 6 Although not all of Hawthorne's tales manifest the twin time-lines or the dual moves, many of then do and such tales function within the conpass of the romancer's art. More significantly, the formal pattern of Propp describes an essential feature of the romance— a genre closely allied to fairy tale and myth. The magic 7 which Hawthorne speaks of in "The Custom House" is the magic of the raconteur's genius, shaping his narrative in a traditional and yet profoundly original way; imagination is at least partially the tale-creating act. In his sketches, imagination centers not on

6 "Preface" to The House of the Seven Gables, Centenary ed. (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1965), pp. 2-3. 7 "Moonlight, in a familiar room, falling so white upon the carpet, and showing all its figures so distinctly,— making every object so minutely visible, yet so unlike a morning or noontide visibility,— is a medium the most suitable for a rcmance-writer to get acquainted with his illusive guests...all these details so completely seen are so spiritualized by the unusual light, that they seem to lose their actual substance, and become things of intellect." In The Scarlet Letter: A Romance, Centenary ed. (Columbus: Ohio State University Press,”1962), p. 36. -401- the formation of the ever complex arrangenent of narrative functions but on the more lyric descriptions of time, place, and character. In the tales, however, the focus is on the imagination as expressed in a multi-textured narrative. Paradoxically, the seemingly simple configuration of Proppian functions yields a narrative rich in the complexity of its tapestry. Perhaps the most frequently cited feature of this tapestry is its ambiguity. This quality likewise often reflects a pattern of narrative described by Propp: one character may function in more than one sphere of activity. In "Rappaccini's Daughter" all three of the male characters participate in the villain's sphere. Although Gicrvanni is the would-be rescuer of the damsel-in-distress, he shares the guilt of Rappaccini for the girl's death. Even Baglioni, the prospective donor, engages in the villain's role. "Rappaccini's Daughter" is a prime example of this ambiguity resulting from the role of one character in more than one sphere of activity, but is far from being the only example. Young Goodman Brown's spheres of action embrace both the hero questing for the knowledge of evil, and the villain who exiles himself from oonmunion with humanity. Even a hero in the making of America, Endicott in "Endicott and the Red Cross," participates in both the hero's and the villain's domain. As hero, he destroys the emblem of British oppression; as villain. -402- he is himself an oppressor of "dissenting" thought. Just as Hawthorne interweaves the functions in his narratives, so does he intertwine the roles of hero and villain into one character. This fusion of opposing spheres of activity into one character creates one strand in the fabric of ambiguity. Equally significant to Hawthorne's romance and to his ambiguity is the structure of polar opposition which F. O. Matthiessen has described as an equipoise between matter and 8 spirit. A number of contemporary critics of Hawthorne have described this equipoise in terms of polar opposition: Hinge's 9 10 head and heart, Fogle's light and dark, McPherson's night and 11 day. Roy R. Male insists that the romancer's art is the union

8 The American Renaissance; Art and Expression in the Age of Emerson and Whitman (London, Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 1941), p. 257. 9 "Hawthorne's Psychology of Head and Heart," PMLA, 65 (1930), 120-32. 10 Hawthorne's Fiction: The Light and the Dark, rev. ed. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1964). 11 Hawthorne as Myth-Maker: A Study in Imagination, University of Toronto Department of English Studies and Texts, No. 16 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1969). -403- of poetxy and fiction, the imaginary and the actual, the universal 12 and the particular. Such a dynamic fusion of polarities is the very essence of Hawthorne's romance and a foundation of his ambiguity. Rather than Manichean opposition, his romances describe a paradigm of conflicting forces fused into the art work itself. In essence, the whole is much greater than the sun of its parts and therein lies the ambiguity. This romance is neither the actual nor the imaginary, neither spirit nor flesh, but a third entity which maintains these forces in equilibrium. Thus, between these oppositions the reader cannot choose; he can only enter into this fictional world and, perhaps, like Hawthorne the narrator, interpret its alternative 13 meanings. It is in the act of interpreting these meanings that one can appreciate the significance of recent studies in folklore and anthropology. Although types of human camunication and organization

12 Roy R. Male, Hawthorne’s Tragic Vision (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1957), p. 19. 13 In The Pursuit of Form; A Study of Hawthorne and the Rcanance (Urbana, Chicago, Lc553on: University oF Illinois Press, 1970), p. 50, John Caldwell Stubbs noted this phenomenon: "With Hawthorne we are engaged more with a dynamic process of probing for meaning. Haw­ thorne may set forth a theme or idea, only to oppose it with its opposite, or he may consider a series of alternatives as a means to resolve a given theme. Usually we are as much aware of the process of weighing meanings as we are of any fined solution." -404-

are distinct from one another, the nature of Hawthorne's romance and of his ambiguity dononstrate a symbiotic relationship between oral narratives and written ones, between the world of imagination and the chaotic world of daily experience, and between morality

and art. Ultimately such an equilibrium between opposing forces may defy classification; however, despite the final integrity of the art work, if this work continues to exist, it endures for a mind willing to seek structure and form. Just as Hawthorne's writing embodies syntagmatic and paradigmatic complexes, so must the reading of it. Appendix

The parenthetical page citations refer to one of two editions: 1. George Parsons Lathrop, ed., The Complete Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, 12 vols. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1883).

t A. TWice-Told Tales, vol. I. B. Mosses from an Old Manse, vol. II. C. The House of the Seven Gables. The Snow Image and

Other TWice-Told Tales, vol. III. D. Tales, Sketches and Other Papers, vol. XII. 2. William Charvat, et al., eds., The Centenary Edition of the Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne (Columbus: The Ohio State

University Press, 1962-). A. A Wonder Book, Tanglewaod Tales, vol. 7.

Each tale will be listed in its order of appearance in this dissertation and then the edition and volume number will be given. Chapter Three, Group One

"The Wives of the Dead" - Riverside, vol. 3. "The Canterbury Pilgrims" - Riverside, vol. 3. ’’Mr. Higginbotham's Catastrophe" - Riverside, vol. 1.

-405- -406-

" Alice Doane's Appeal" - Riverside, vol. 12.

"The Gray Chanpion" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Maypole of Merry Mount" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Hie Wedding Knell" - Riverside, Vol. 1. "Peter Goldthwaite' s Treasure" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Howe's Masquerade" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Lady Eleanore's Mantle" - Riverside, vol 8. "The Lily's Quest: An Apologue" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The New Adam and Eve" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Antique Ring" - Riverside, vol. 12. "Egotism; or, the Bosom Serpent" - Riverside, vol. 2. "Drowne's Wooden Image" - Riverside, vol. 2. "Feathertop: A Moralized Legend" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Gorgon's Head" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Golden Touch" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Paradise of Children" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Three Golden Apples" - Centenary, vol. 7.

"The Chimaera" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Minotaur" - centenary, vol. 7. "Circe's Palace" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Golden Fleece" - Centenary, vol. 7. -407- Chapter Three,Group Two "The Prophetic Pictures" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Great Carbuncle" - Riverside, vol. 1.

"The Shaker Bridal" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Threefold Destiny" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Edward Randolph's Portrait" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Old Esther Dudley" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Birthmark" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Intelligence Office" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Great Stone Face" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Snow-Image" - Riverside, vol. 3. "The Miraculous Pitcher" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Dragon's Teeth" - Centenary, vol. 7.

Chapter Three, Group Three "The Gentle Bey" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Roger Malvin's Burial" - Riverside, vol. 2. "Young Goodman Brown" - Riverside, vol. 2.

Chapter Three, Group Four "My Kinsman, Major Molineux" - Riverside, vol. 3. "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" - Riverside, vol. 1. -408-

Chapter Four "The Devil in Manuscript" - Riverside, vol. 3. "The Artist of the Beautiful" - Riverside, vol. 2. "Endicott and the Red Cross" - Riverside, vol. 1.

"Ethan Brand" - Riverside, vol. 3. Chapter Five "The Ambitious Guest" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Minister's Black Veil" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Man of Adamant" - Riverside, vol. 3. "Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Endicott and the Red Cross" - Riverside, vol. 1.

"The Shaker Bridal" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Edward Randolph's Portrait" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Birthmark" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Intelligence Office" - Riverside, vol. 2. "Rappaccini' s Daughter" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Great Stone Face" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Miraculous Pitcher" - Centenary, vol. 7. '"Hie Pygmies" - Centenary, vol. 7. "The Pomegranate Seeds" - Centenary, vol. 7. -409-

Chapter Six

"The Hollow of Three Hills" - Riverside, vol. 1.

"Wakefield" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The White Old Maid" - Riverside, vol. 1. "The Devil in Manuscript" - Riverside, vol. 3. "The Prophetic Pictures" - Riverside, vol. 1. "David Swan" - Riverside, vol. 1. "Sylph Etherege" - Riverside, vol. 3. "Old Esther Dudley" - Riverside, vol. 1. "John Inglefield's Thanksgiving" ~ Riverside, vol. 3. "The Christinas Banquet" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Artist of the Beautiful" - Riverside, vol. 2. "The Sncxv Image" - Riverside, vol. 3. "Ethan Brand" - Riverside, vol. 3. "The Dragon's Teeth" - Centenary, vol. 7. -410- SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY: STRUCTURALISM AND FORMALISM

Barnes, Daniel R. "Folktale Morphology and the Structure of Beowulf," Speculum, 45 (1970), 416-34.

Barthes, Roland. "L'Analyse Structurale du Recit. a Propos D'Actes X-XI." Recherches de Science Religieuse, 58

(1970), 17-37. ______. "L'Ancienne Rhetorique: aide maroire." CcnTnunications,

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