English 5571 - American Transcendentalism
Here is my first full-length graduate paper (whatever that means. I would have liked to have been able to work on it a little more. As it is, however, I choose to be content.
Jason Hudson
Dr.H--
English 5571
6 May 2003
Emerson's Clarion Call: Is It Practical?
Nathaniel Hawthorne has been called an "Emersonian Romantic" (Bell 12). On one hand, he lived among the American Romantics and was influenced by the German philosophy and English poetry of the 19th Century. On the other hand, and perhaps more ironically, he was consumed by the inescapable elements of Ralph Waldo Emerson's Transcendentalism, a fact that he "could no more have avoided [. . .] than [being] a New Englander" (12). It does not logically follow that Hawthorne became one of the most important critics of Emerson and the movement known as American Transcendentalism or Emersonian Idealism. According to Millicent Bell of Brown University, Hawthorne spent a great deal of his life's energy tinkering with the ideas of the Romantics until its philosophical weaknesses were open to the elements (13). It may be helpful to consider Hawthorne's antagonism toward Transcendentalism as similar to Byron's incongruence with the Romantics. Neither writer shared the "view of the imagination" adopted by both Romanticism and Transcendentalism (14). As a result, Byron and Hawthorne failed the "standard qualifications" for entry in each respective movement (14). Nevertheless, the quality of Emersonian Idealism that captivated Hawthorne to the point of submission is its notion of the individual as divine creator. In his short story, "The Artist of the Beautiful," Hawthorne permits Emerson's genius to impregnate the artist-Hawthorne's creator of the object of beauty-and allows him to ascend to the Ideal.
The bulk of Hawthorne's criticism against this Idealism comes forth in his published works where "his most important judgments of life are anti-Romantic" (13). In his short story and satire of Pilgrim's Progress, "The Transcendental Railroad," he likens Transcendentalism to a "terrible giant" feeding his victims "smoke, mist, moonshine, raw potatoes, and saw-dust" (Hawthorne 1279). Although theoretically appealing for its emphasis on the self, Hawthorne felt he must finally reject Emerson's "dangerous self-delusion" for its impractical nature and its inability to fulfill its optimistic promises of an ideal existence (Bell 174). To the skeptic, the Transcendental resource of divine inspiration that leads to perfection seems hard to come by.
Further proof of Hawthorne's dislike of Emersonian Idealism comes from F.O. Matthiessen's groundbreaking treatise on the American emergence of art and literature. Matthiessen quotes Hawthorne as saying that although he "admired Emerson as a poet of deep beauty and austere tenderness," he "sought nothing from him as a philosopher" (193). Hawthorne was suspicious of the philosophy that knowledge comes from the god within. But there is evidence that his "dissatisfaction with [. . .] Emerson" was reciprocal in Emerson's evaluation of Hawthorne as a writer (194). He said of Hawthorne, his "writing is not good for anything" (194). This mutual distaste for what the other had understood was less hate and more a picture of two men practicing "extreme individualism" (194). Perhaps there was not enough room in New England for the both of them.
Nevertheless, the vitality and "durability" of Emerson's words are as potent today as they were in 19th Century America (Bradley 1061). After nearly two centuries, the ideas that plagued Hawthorne's sensabilities still flourish in the soul of the American scholar. Today the speculative man lives with a sense of individualism that finds its heritage in the notion of self-reliance. The American intellectual views this reliance of self as the endorsement of both spirit and mind. Like in English Romanticism, there was a departure from staunch classical intellectualism. In its place a hybrid of both the mind and the soul took form. These odd bedfellows have since spawned a history of artistic expression that can only be described as distinctly American.
Hawthorne was uncomfortable with what we recognize today as the freedom of the artist. He persistently spoke against the egotism that rose out of the growing "social individualism" of the day, regarding it ultimately as perilous (Bell 4). Because of his Puritan roots, the old doctrine of man's total depravity continued to factor into his thinking. But because of the influence of the Transcendentalist Movement, Hawthorne's final analysis is that the artist of genius indeed encompasses the Emersonian Ideal.
Those who have attempted to define the framework of American Transcendentalism have done so cautiously, remarking that any definition is more adequate than accurate, more instructive than comprehensive. This elusive term requires examination from a historical point of view in order to grasp its significance in society. One method of getting at its meaning is to contrast Idealism with its antithesis. American Unitarianism, the religious affiliation from whence Emerson emerged, clings to Lockean psychology, which, like neo-classicism, teaches that "all human knowledge is derived empirically [and] through the experience of the senses" (Buell 4). The American Transcendental movement was a drastic departure from this doctrine and emphasized instead the notion of intuition or reason. For Emerson and others like Thoreau, Fuller and Channing, "all knowledge comes from the divinity within" (Matthiessen 194). This idea is not exclusive to the American however. In fact, the dichotomy between the material and the ideal are conventions "pervasively present in all the great Romantic poets" (Fogle 76-7). But old-time religion and the European tradition are, according to Emerson, the culprits who made the spirit of the American what it was: "timid, imitative, [and] tame" (Rowe 73). During his address in 1837, Emerson sells his optimistic perspective to young Cambridge intellectuals, coaxing them to rely on something other than "the courtly muses of Europe" (73). In Emerson's lifetime, a substantial number of the transcendentalists forsook the office of "Unitarian ministers or [. . . ] lay preachers" and embraced the school of Transcendentalism (Buell 21). This school teaches that the faculty of reason is fed through "a unifying, essential soul" that allows all men to be inspired on a "moment-by-moment" basis (330). As man acts according to his genius, he becomes part of the Over-Soul, "not 'increas[ing] the individuality, but the community' of his mind" (Matthiessen 26). The soundness of the message, however, has been challenged through the centuries by its share of willing adversaries, Hawthorne not the least of them.
Hawthorne, noted as an "anti-Emersonian writer," takes Emerson's Idealism to task in the short story "The Artist of the Beautiful" (Marr 22). Here, Emerson's ideal man is exemplified in the character of Owen Warland, a watchmaker (22). Owen illustrates Emerson's "Man Thinking," by exhibiting the qualities, thus: a soul that is connected with nature, the susceptibility to inspiration, and the decision to act in order to create an object of beauty (Rowe 59). He is called an "ideal artist," one who must have the ability to handle fragile ideas with care (i.e., the conception of a mechanical butterfly), likewise, exhibiting fortitude when in "contact with the practical" (i.e., the persecution of Peter Hovendon and Robert Danforth) (Appelabum 81). This same skill is detailed by Emerson as he condemns the inaccurate impression that every scholar is "a recluse, [. . .] unfit for [. . .] labor" (Rowe 64). He states that one manifestation of fear appears in the scholar's inability to act. This axiom coincides with the struggle that Owen experiences throughout most of the story when he cries out like the prophet Isaiah, "I am ruined!" (Appelabum 81). But the ideal man must also possess a "heroic mind," so that he can continue to imagine the impossible (Rowe 64). Owen shows this kind of persistence during each time of catastrophe. The narrator says in each case that "[Owen] must keep his faith in himself while the incredulous world assails him with its utter disbelief; he must stand up against mankind and be his own sole disciple, both as respects his genius and the objects to which it is directed" (Appelabum 81). Owen's heroism is detailed especially at the end of the story when he understands that he has a divine ability to create an object of beauty.
The task at hand, then, becomes to discuss the parallel between Emerson's ideal man and Hawthorne's ideal artist. Because Hawthorne can be trusted as one who understands the transcendental mind, the validity of Emerson's philosophy will hinge upon the success or failure of Owen the artist. By showing that they are very much mirror images of one another and that Owen is successful in the transcendental framework, it becomes necessary to relent along with Hawthorne any antagonism against the idea that the artist is a divine creator. Emerson's Ideal is indeed found in Hawthorne's artist.
As aforesaid, "[T]he American writer in the nineteenth century stays within the social ontology of Emerson's American Scholar" (Marr 22). This statement brings forth two observations. First, Hawthorne lives within a certain paradigm, showing a limitation on his part to write anything detached from his experience. Second, this realization breeds gratitude for the curious observer of the 20th Century who is far removed from Emerson and the ideas developed in the 19th Century. These writers are sources of wisdom to generations to come, as if they were "instructive" tutors in a classroom. (22).
The parts of Emerson's address will be juxtaposed to Hawthorne's ideal artist here, showing that the ideal man is realized in Owen Warland. Emerson criticizes the scholar for his lack of productivity. With the desire to stimulate motivation for change, Emerson describes America as a nation of inactivity. So here is the learned gentleman, celebrating another year of hope (for progress), but "not enough of labor" (Rowe 58). He tells them in his introduction that "the time has already come" when the scholar should present a poetry and philosophy of America. Emerson's rhetoric creates a sense of urgency here by establishing a lack of vision from the busy American. He states that the occasion for which they are gathered should now be something more than a time to celebrate the voices of the past and offer the next generation with "the sere remains of foreign harvests" (58).
Emerson's solution is for man to realize the potential of his soul as a creative force. As one begins to worship the divine soul within, he moves toward office of creator (60). Emerson makes it clear that an invaluable influence on the mind is nature. By observing nature, one can better understand himself. Not only are "[p]articular natural facts [. . .] symbols of particular spiritual facts," as stated in Emerson's Nature (1836), but nature, like spirit, is boundless (33). Emerson speaks of nature thus, "There is never a beginning, [. . .] never an end, to the inexplicable continuity [. . .], but always circular power returning into itself" (60). Emerson argues that just as nature is "boundless," so one's spirit is an endless system. "Therein," reveals Emerson, "[nature] resembles his own spirit" (60). Lawrence Buell affirms in his book, Literary Transcendentalism: Style and Vision in the American Renaissance, that there is a very real "relationship between nature and the creative imagination" for the transcendentalists (144).
As a child, Hawthorne's artist, Owen, would wander "through the woods and fields, [. . . and] he found amusement in chasing butterflies" (Appelabum 83). His willingness to involve himself with the natural world around him brings Owen closer to his own soul. The physical act of chasing the butterfly in flight mirrors Owen's spiritual pursuit of the beautiful. Hawthorne remarks that "[t]he chase of butterflies was an apt emblem of the ideal pursuit in which he had spent so many golden hours" (83). But the question remains for the time-being: "[W]ould the beautiful idea ever be yielded to his hand like the butterfly that symbolized it?" (83). In other words, and more importantly for Emerson, would Owen act upon his impulse to create that which is beautiful?
Emerson also praises the use of books as a means of inspiration (Rowe 61). It is good to glean strength from books, for "precisely in proportion to the depth of mind from which it issued, so high does it soar" (61). In other words, the deeper the mind travels through the discovery by education, the higher the truth is revealed through the scholar. Emerson affirms a kind of search for truth that men of every generation share in the following excerpt from "The Poet":
All that we call history attests that the birth of a poet is the principle event in chronology. Man, never so often deceived, still watches for the arrival of a brother who can hold him steady to a truth until he has made it his own. With what joy I begin to read a poem, which I confide in as an inspiration! (191)
Too few people take the knowledge they receive from people, experience or education, and act upon it. Emerson urges the scholar not to worship books or other men's thoughts (61). Owen "was apt to discourse at wearisome length of the marvels of mechanism that he had read about in books" (Appelabum 88). Owen follows Emerson's model, and his fascination about mechanics becomes fuel (inspiration) for his artistic progress.
Further, Emerson warns the scholar not to be intimidated by the genius minds of the past because that same genius is offered to every man within his own soul. "[T]he book, the college, the school of art, the institution of any kind," insists Emerson, "stop with some past utterance of genius[, . . .] [b]ut genius looks forward: [. . .] genius creates" (Rowe 62). The ideal here is to practice creative reading (63). The force that creates is found in the soul that utilizes the natural world and experience as a source of inspiration. Emerson says, "Colleges and books only copy the language which the field and the work-yard made" (65).
Hawthorne draws a distinction between those who create "by the book," and those who "aim at the hidden mysteries" of their craft (Appelabum 78). He says of Owen, "He did not, like the crowd of school-by artisans, construct little windmills on the angle of a barn or water-mills across the neighboring brook" (78). Instead, he "sometimes saw reason to suppose that he was attempting to imitate the beautiful movements of nature as exemplified in the flight of birds" (78). Here we see a connection between Emerson's notion that nature is a symbol of spirit, but also an indication that Owen is dissatisfied with mere observation. At a time when Owen is completely disillusioned, "[i]t might be fancied that the bright butterfly, which had come so spirit-like into the window [. . . is] indeed a spirit commissioned to recall him to a pure, ideal life that [has] so etherealized him among men" (86). Thus, just as books are to be a source of inspiration, the butterfly, another tangible object of experience awakens Owen's spirit.
Emerson says, "Action is with the scholar subordinate, but it is essential" (Rowe 64). In other words, the proper order of life for the scholar is first to think, then to act. What good is it for the intellectual minds of the world to merely think? This is precisely the criticism of the laborer against the scholar. Emerson uses this complaint as an appeal to the scholar's sense of dignity as he recalls, "so-called 'practical men' sneer at speculative men" for their propensity for inaction (64). One must look at the man of labor and emulate him to a degree. Without action, according to Emerson, "thought can never ripen into truth" (64). Likewise, if there is no act of creation, there is no object of beauty to behold.
The model of the practical man's complaint is illustrated in Hawthorne's short story. First, there is the antagonistic verbal exchange against Owen. Peter Hovenden, his former employer, "cause problems for [the] artist" (Shulman 177). He looks at the object of beauty "with a sneer upon his face that always made people doubt [. . .] in everything but a material existence" (Appelabum 93). Robert Danforth, the blacksmith, remarks about Owen's object, "I put more main strength into one blow of my sledge-hammer than all that you have expended since you were a 'prentice" (80). Peter, who gives his daughter to Robert in marriage cannot see past the physical action of the laborer. In his experience, the immediate gratification that comes from the laborer's hand is preferred over the "fruitess" tinkering of the artist. Contrary to Annie's wishes that her father change the subject, he remarks, "[g]ive me the worker in iron after all is said and done. He spends his labor upon a reality" (77).
Second, these derogatory comments inhibit Owen's genius. After one brief exchange with Robert, Owen mutters, "His hard, brute force darkens and confuses the spiritual element within me" (80). This confusion confounds Owen to the point that his productivity halts after months of work, "shattered and annihilated by contact with the practical" (81).
Third, Owen realizes where his source of action comes from, and he is determined to follow his dream of creating his machine. He says, "My force, whatever there my be of it, is altogether spiritual" (80). He also vows that if he were to comprehend the mystery of perpetual motion, he would not use it for practical purposes (80).
Emerson seems to indicate that more importantly than the action is the memory of it. In his view, "the final value of action, like that of books, and better than books, is that it is a resource" (Rowe 66). He likens the action like that of a caterpillar, thus:
Henceforth it is an object of beauty, however base its origin and neighborhood. In its grub state, it cannot fly, it cannot shine, it is a dull grub. But suddenly, without observation, the selfsame thing unfurls beautiful wings, and is an angel of wisdom. (65)
Further, "[o]nce a past action becomes a thought of the mind, it is "transfigured" (65). These images of metamorphoses seem appropriate for Owen and his mechanical butterfly. A "happy transformation" occurs in Owen when he begins to be productive on a practical level (Appelabum 81). Owen feels "the impulse to give external reality to his ideas 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" (83). But after his object of beauty is destroyed and becomes a memory, Owen is content knowing that it had been a reality (95).
"A contemporary British reviewer observed in Tait's Edinburgh Magazine that if Emerson had written a short story, he would have written "The Artist of the Beautiful" (Bell 94). Bell says "the tale seems to be composed in the intellectual language of Romantic [T]ranscendentalism" (94). Although Hawthorne struggles against much of the transcendental ideas of his day, this one short story is evidence that Hawthorne is ultimately unable to disagree with them completely. In particular, Hawthorne gives "most sympathetic treatment of the idealistic view of artistic creation" (94). The artist creates something of such exquisite beauty that there is little doubt that something supernatural occurs. Owen looks "with singular distaste at the stiff and regular processes of ordinary machinery" (Appelabum 78). He dreams, instead, of fashioning something "other-worldly." Owen listens to the divine soul within himself, and is assisted by it in his operation.
In a way, the genius of the ideal artist is as fragile as the art that he creates. If the artist merely thinks and does not act, he is in danger of missing out on divine creation. When Owen hears of Annie's engagement with Robert, "[I]t was as if the spirit had gone out of him" (88). Hawthorne is saying that the world (i.e., Peter, Robert and Annie) is a hindrance to genius. To survive against such antagonism, the artist must sometimes detach himself from the world and plug into the divine Over-Soul that genius has access to. Hawthorne's narrator says, "In an atmosphere of doubt and mockery [the object's] exquisite susceptibility suffers torture, as does the soul of him who instilled his own life into it" (94). Owen experiences his share of torture. But unlike the American scholar who had "not enough of labor," Owen makes his dream a reality (Rowe 58).