As a penetrative analysis of a great sculptor's motive it is unequalled
by any modern writer on art, and this is set forth with a grace and
delicacy worthy of Praxiteles himself. The only criticism which one feels
inclined to make of it is that it _too_ Hawthornish, too modern and
elaborate; but is not this equally true of all modern criticism? We
cannot return to the simplicity of the Greeks any more than we can to
their customs. If Hawthorne would seem to discover too much in this
statue, which is really a poor Roman copy, he has himself given us an
answer to this objection. In Volume II., Chapter XII., he says: "Let the
canvas glow as it may, you must look with the eye of faith, or its
highest excellence escapes you. There is always the necessity of helping
out the painter's art with your own resources of sensibility and
imagination." His cursory remarks on Raphael are not less pertinent and
penetrating. Of technicalities he knew little, but no one, perhaps, has
sounded such depths of that clairvoyant master's nature, and so brought
to light the very soul of him.
The "Marble Faun" may not be the most perfect of Hawthorne's works, but
it is much the greatest,--an epic romance, which can only be compared
with Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister."
HAWTHORNE AND HAMLET.
_A Reply to Professor Bliss Perry._
To compare a person in real life with a character in fiction is not
uncommon, but it is more conducive to solidity of judgment to compare the
living with the living, and the imaginary with the imaginary. The chief
difficulty, however, in Hamlet's case, is that he only appears before us
as a person acting in an abnormal mental condition. The mysterious death
of his father, the suspicion of his mother's complicity in crime, which
takes the form of an apparition from beyond the grave, is too much of a
strain for his tender and impressible nature. His mental condition has
become well known to physicians as _cerebral hyperaemia_, and all
his strange speeches and eccentric actions are to be traced to this
source; and it is for this reason that the dispute has arisen as to
whether Hamlet was not partially insane. If the strain continued long
enough he would no doubt have become insane.
As well as we can penetrate through this adventitious _nimbus_, we
discover Hamlet to be a person of generous, princely nature, high-minded
and chivalrous. He is cordial to every one, but always succeeds in
asserting the superiority of his position, even in his conversation with
Horatio. If he is mentally sensitive he shows no indication of it. He
never appears shy or reserved, but on the contrary, confident and even
bold. This may be owing to the mental excitement under which he labors;
but the best critics from Goethe down have accredited him with a lack of
resolution; and it is this which produces the catastrophe of the play. He
must have realized, as we all do, that after the scene of the players in
which he "catches the conscience of a king," his life was in great
danger. He should either have organized a conspiracy at once, or fled to
the court of Fortinbras; but he allows events to take their course, and
is controlled by them instead of shaping his own destiny. Instead of
planning and acting he philosophizes.
Of Hawthorne, on the contrary, we know nothing except as a person in a
perfectly normal condition. His wife once said that she had rarely known
him to be indignant, and never to lose his temper. He was the most
sensitive of men, but he also possessed an indomitable will. It was only
his terrible determination that could make his life a success. Emerson,
who had little sympathy with him otherwise, always admired the perfect
equipoise of his nature. A man could not be more thoroughly himself; but,
such a reticent, unsociable character as Hawthorne could never be used as
the main-spring of a drama, for he would continually impede the progress
of the plot. A dramatic character needs to be a talkative person; one
that either acts out his internal life, or indirectly exposes it.
Hawthorne's best friends do not appear to have known what his real
opinions were. This perpetual reserve, this unwillingness to assimilate
himself to others, may have been necessary for the perfection of his art.
The greater a writer or an artist, the more unique he is,--the more
sharply defined from all other members of his class. Hawthorne certainly
did not resemble Scott, Dickens, or Thackeray, either in his life or his
work. He was perhaps more like Auerbach than any other writer of the
nineteenth century, but still more like Goldsmith. The "Vicar of
Wakefield" and the "House of the Seven Gables" are the two perfect
romances in the English tongue; and the "Deserted Village," though
written in poetry, has very much the quality of Hawthorne's shorter
sketches. "And tales much older than the ale went round" is closely akin
to Hawthorne's humor; yet there was little outward similarity between
them, for Goldsmith was often gay and sometimes frivolous; and although
Hawthorne never published a line of poetry he was the more poetic of the
two, as Goldsmith was the more dramatic. He also resembled Goldsmith in
his small financial difficulties.
In his persistent reserve, in the seriousness of his delineation, and in
his indifference to the opinions of others, Hawthorne reminds us somewhat
of Michael Angelo; but he is one of the most unique figures among the
world's geniuses.
End of Project Gutenberg's Cambridge Sketches, by Frank Preston Stearns