Many influences in Hawthorne's environment served to condition and mold
him as a writer. Salem had reached its highest prosperity in all lines
and was just beginning its retrogression in Hawthorne's time; the
primeval forests of Maine produced a subtle and lasting influence on
him during his sojourn in Maine for his health; transcendentalism was
the ruling thought at the time when Hawthorne was in his most plastic
and solitary age; his interest in _Brook Farm_ brought him in contact
with all the good and bad points of that social movement; his life in
the _Old Manse_ in Concord and in the Berkshire Hills contributed
largely to the deepening of his convictions and sympathies; and over
all, like a sombre cloud, hung his ancestral Puritanic training which
penetrated and suffused all his writings. He is the most native and the
least imitative of all our fiction writers.
Hawthorne did not write on the common subjects and facts of his day,
but chose to have his readers go with him, away from prosaic life, out
into a world of mysteries where we may revel in all kinds of imaginary
sports. By this process he succeeded in producing poetic effects from
the most unpromising materials. His writings are fanciful. He enjoyed
subjects that deal with the occult, such as mesmerism, hypnotism, and
subtle suggestions. He harked back to the rigid beliefs and laws of the
Puritans, but he and his subjects are spiritually advanced far above
the crude, ponderous, and highly theological tenets of his forefathers.
Hawthorne is very provincial. He travelled little until he was fifty
years old. He naturally loved the antique and poetic countries, but he
always qualified his admiration of these foreign lands by praising
something in his own New England. He conceded that there was little or
nothing in this prosperous and crude country to inspire a writer to
produce poetry, but his patriotism was so strong that he could never
free himself wholly from its provincial effects. All his works were
produced in the stress created by this pull of opposing forces—his high
poetic ideals and his love of country.
In form he tends toward the polish of a classicist; in quality and
freedom of thought he is very responsive to the mysteries of
romanticism. He is introspective in his thinking and symbolical in his
writing. Naturally he thinks abstractly, but is compelled to construct
concrete methods of presenting his ideas. He never describes a strong
emotion in detail, but delights in using suggestions and sidelights.
His pure and refined manhood, his delicate fancy and deep interest in
moral and religious questions, his conscience in its most artistic
form, all are presented to the reader in the choicest garb of well
chosen words and attuned to a subtle rhythm that adds beauty and
attractiveness to his style.