Sample answers to question 1 on desire & loss

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 American Romanticism is clearly distinguished from other periods in literature by characteristics such as rebellion, individualism, transcendence, nostalgia, and idealism.  While all of these traits are significant in their own right, they often converge in Romantic works to produce the recurrent theme of desire and loss.  In virtually all romances, a character’s separation from some object of desire causes much pain and sorrow, because the attainment of a person’s desire must almost always be exchanged for some type of loss.  Beginning with James Fenimore Cooper’s Romantic captivity narrative, The Last of the Mohicans, the hero of the novel must sacrifice himself in an attempt to save the woman he desires.  Continuing even into the Realistic and Modern periods in American literature, contemporary versions of the desire and loss theme are evidenced in Thomas Wolfe’s “The Lost Boy” and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “Winter Dreams.”

            In The Last of the Mohicans, Cooper utilizes desire and loss as the central driving force of his romance narrative.  Although the entire novel is concentrated on this theme in that the loss of the Mohican tribe is imminent, perhaps the most passionate, yet concealed desire is that of Uncas’ subtly amorous feelings for Cora, the eldest daughter of Colonel Munro.  Upon their initial meeting, Uncas’ “dark eye lingered on her rich, speaking countenance,” causing Cora “to look up in admiration and astonishment” (56).  From the beginning of the novel, Uncas reveals his affection for Cora and his desire to protect her.  For example, when their party is in danger of being discovered by the treacherous Magua and his Huron tribe at Glenn’s Falls and Cora insists that Uncas leave in order to save his life, he simply replies, “Uncas will stay” (79).  Thus, although she eventually convinces him to leave in order to seek help from her father, Uncas reaffirms the magnitude of his desires in that he feels compelled to defend her, even at the expense of his own life.   

            This cycle of desire and loss is repeated throughout the story, as Cora is captured by Magua and rescued by Uncas.  At the end of the novel, however, though Uncas’ desires for Cora have unrelentlessly impelled him to follow her wherever she is taken, she is viciously murdered by one of Magua’s men and Magua himself stabs Uncas in the back.  Although he is dying, Uncas still avenges Cora’s death as he “arose from the blow, [. . .] and struck the murderer of Cora to his feet, by an effort, in which the last of his failing strength was expended” (337).  With this, Uncas’ desire to be with Cora and protect her from harm eventually results in the loss of both their lives and any possibility of a romantic relationship between them.   

            Although not classified as a typical “romance narrative,” the theme of desire and loss is also evident in Thomas Wolfe’s short story “The Lost Boy.”  Although this particular story does bear some similarity to The Last of the Mohicans in that desire and loss is represented as a cycle, it differs in its emphasis on nostalgia and the loss of childhood innocence.  “The Lost Boy” tells of a family’s poignant desires to revive their deceased brother Robert, even if only in their minds.  In particular, the narrator travels back to the house in which his brother died in hopes of filling some sort of void in his life: “So I waited for a moment for a word, for a door to open, for the child to come.  I waited, but no words were spoken; no one came” (1705).  Although he does fulfill his desires to go into the room where Robert died and relive some of his childhood memories, he nevertheless experiences a tremendous loss, as “It all came back and faded and was lost again” (1709).  In realistic fashion, the world that the narrator thought he knew has changed and will never be the same again.

            In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s modern romance “Winter Dreams,” the author again presents the romantic element of desire and loss as a cycle, but does so in an urban, materialistic setting unlike Cooper’s primitive wilderness.  In this story, a young entrepreneur named Dexter desires to marry the beautiful, yet capricious Judy Jones.  However, in contrast to Uncas’ character, Dexter is not satisfied with the possibility of a relationship with Judy; he desires the reality of actually having her: “Already he was playing with the idea of going East to New York.  He wanted to take Judy Jones with him” (2137).  Unfortunately, the cyclical pattern of desire and loss immediately ensues as Dexter loses Judy, and she does not return to him again until after he is engaged to another woman.  Although he does resume his relationship with her for a short time, he eventually realizes that “He loved her and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving—but he could not have her” (2141).  Finally, seven years later when Dexter learns of Judy’s regrettable situation, he experiences his final loss as he simply states, “The dream was gone” (2142).  At this moment, he comes to a complete recognition that the past is over and the present is all he now has; the woman that he had so desired is lost and is never coming back.

            As evidenced by the texts of Cooper, Wolfe, and Fitzgerald, desire and loss is not only a prominent aspect of American Romanticism, but is also distinctly prevalent in both Realism and Modernism.  Though it occurs in many forms, intense desires and tremendous subsequent losses are ideas that any reader can easily relate to.  Perhaps the reason that this theme appears so frequently in American literature is because of the fact that it is so adaptable and central to the romantic spirit of our culture. [Kina Siriphant-Lara]

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Through our study of Romantic writers, common themes have appeared and then resurfaced as our study progressed through the era.  Themes are noteworthy—reoccurring elements cause us to pause and reevaluate texts as we attempt to puzzle out how a common thematic element might be telling of the Romantics in general.  One such theme is the element of desire and loss, which can be found in Mary Rowlandson, Edgar Allan Poe and Harriet Jacob’s Romantic works. 

            Technically, Mary Rowlandson’s “Narrative of Captivity” is pre-Romantic since Rowlandson died in 1711.  This early example’s thematic elements of desire and loss spin around actual events, but still hold to a familiar desire/loss pattern that would become more developed as the Romantic era wore on.  Rowlandson first mentions her initial loss at the hand of the Indians: 

At length they cam and beset our own house, and quickly it was the dolefulest day that ever mine eyes saw.  The house stoo upon the edge of a hill; some of the Indians got behind the hill, others into the barn, and others being anything that could shelter them; from all places they shot against the house [...]    (Rowlandson 136)

 Rowlandson’s loss is brought on by real-life nightmarish circumstances beyond her control.  Rowlandson’s description of the ordeal is controlled, but there is a sense that Rolandson has lost more than family and friends and home—there also seems to be evidence that she has lost her Eve-like innocence.  Her home in the garden has been destroyed, when according to Rowlandson, “I have seen the extreme vanity of this world: One hour I have been in health, and wealthy, wanting nothing.  But the next hour in sickness and wounds, and death, having nothing but sorrow” (151).  Interestingly enough, the Indians themselves seem to represent this tragic loss of worldly and spiritual loss; Rowlandson’s portrayal of them is drawn in vivid gothic imagery.  She calls the natives “hell-hounds, roaring, singing, ranting, and insulting as if they would have torn our very hearts out [...] (136).  This use of Gothic imagery gives the Indians a dark, mystical quality, making them seem less human and more like caricatures of hellish creatures who are capable of destruction and causing Rowlandson pain. 

            Much like elements of her loss, Rowlandson’s desire is often spiritual in nature: [...] Still the Lord upheld me with His gracious and merciful spirit, and we were both alive to see the light the next morning (139).  Rowlandson’s strength comes directly from her faith in God, and after losing most of her worldly possessions, she understandably longs to transcend earthly boundaries:

And I hope I can say in some measure, as David did, ‘It is good for me that I have been afflicted.’  The Lord hath showed me the vanity of these outward things.  That they are the vanity of vanities, and vexation of spirit, that they are but a shadow, a blast, a bubble, and things of no continuance.  (151)

The human spirit must desire in opposition with loss.  To cope, Rowlandson must devalue her loss—in doing this she must place value on a replacement. Rowlandson’s choice is to strive for the spiritual realm and break her connections with earthly things. 

            Another Romantic example of desire and loss can readily be found in Poe’s Ligeia.  Unlike Rowlandson, the opposition of desire and loss is not a physical reality for the author but a stealthy literary device.  Other Romantic elements are, of course, a part of “Ligeia,” such as transcendence, the gothic and the sublime, but “Ligeia” is full of elements of desire.  For Poe’s character, desire only becomes relevant after loss of Ligeia has occurred: “But in death only, was I fully impressed with the intensity of her affection” (Poe 708). 

Poe’s desire teeters between reality and madness until the character must leave reality, transcend if you will, to attempt to gain what has been lost.  In this fully Romantic work, it can be difficult to separate where Poe’s thematic elements of loss end and where desire truly begins—his gothic tale is an example of the intertwining of both desire and loss in violent opposition--chaotic opposition. Often in the story, it is difficult to tell the narrator’s desire from his loss—the two seem inextricably defined by one another—the result is a tale that is primarily psychologically gothic, yet appeals to readers on the most basic human level.  Romantic characters are defined by their humanness and their human struggles to escape a world that seems to spiral out of their control.  According to Poe’s narrator, “there was a mad disorder in my thoughts—a tumult unappeasable” (713). Perhaps Poe realized this interplay between primal human desires and cataclysmic devastation created the tension and horror he was seeking to cause in his reader.  Poe’s sensationalistic tightrope between desire and loss are ultimately telling of a genre of literature that defines humanity, then seeks answers by transcending out of it. 

Another, perhaps even more complex example of desire and loss can be found in Harriet Jacob’s “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.”  Another narrative, Jacob’s tale seems to avoid categorization.  For Jacobs, desire seems to equal to freedom, however, she does not have a desire for freedom until she experiences loss.  This loss is in the form of the shattering of the innocence of childhood—until Jacobs realizes that something has been taken from her, she apparently has little desire for freedom:

I was born a slave, but I never knew it till six years of happy childhood has passed away [...].  My mistress was so kind to me that I was always glad to do her bidding, and proud to labor for her as much as my young years would permit.  I would sit by her side for hours, sewing diligently, with a heart as free from cars as that of any free-born white child.  (Jacobs 813-815) 

Jacob’s desires are minimal in this Eden-like state of childhood innocence.  After her realization (or her loss) that she is in bondage, she begins to desire.  However, this desire is complex and can be found on a multitude of levels.  Her desires seem to manifest themselves in three primary ways, the first being the desire to love. 

            Because Jacobs cannot choose a partner for herself, her very act of loving and being loved in return are controlled.  Jacob’s laments, “why does a slave ever love?  Why allow the tendrils of the heart to twin around objects which may at any moment by wrenched away by the hand of violence? (816). 

            Next, Jacobs has the desire to own her own body.  On page 818, Dr. Flint begins his plans to move Jacobs to Louisiana with him as his mistress.  “In the blandest tones, he told me that he was going to build a small house for me, in a secluded place, four miles away from the town.  I shuddered; but I was constrained to listen [...].” 

            Lastly, Jacobs has the desire to be respected as a person with “white” individual rights.  According to Jacobs, “the more my mind had become enlightened, the more difficult it was for me to consider myself an article of property; and to pay money to those who had so grievously oppressed me seemed like taking from my sufferings the glory of triumph” (832).  Jacob’s desires are a product of the loss she has suffered, but also her story seems triumphant at the end because she obtains the object of her desires. 

            The Romantic opposition between desire and loss seems twofold.  First, used as a literary device, desire and loss serve to heighten the tension between an individual and the corruptive outside world.  Fundamentally Romantic, after a falling away of innocence, the Romantic must pull away from outside corruption and seek refuge in isolation from that corruptive influence.  For Rowlandson, she pulls away from the material world and looks toward the spiritual.  For Poe, the narrator in Ligiea pulls away from reality to indulge in isolation in the form of madness.  For Jacobs, she attempts to disentangle herself from a corrupt culture that seeks to keep her shackled in its injustice.

Secondly, the play between desire and loss appeals to large audiences who are suffering in their own way and able to relate to characters disenchanted with culture and society.  This is still true—Romantic themes will continue to be studied as long as people in pain desire to transcend their surroundings. [Emily Masterson]

[complete email essay]

As Romanticism evolved, its ability to re-invent itself and find new meaning within different contexts is clearly discernible in the post-Romantic period.  In writers such as Jewett, Wright, Hurston, and Fitzgerald, the influence of Romanticism can clearly be traced in the developing movements of Realism and Modernism.

            In Jewett’s “A White Heron,” both the setting of the story and the characterization of Sylvia resonate with romantic transcendence.  In the idyllic setting of the woods, Sylvia communes with nature as she determines to protect the heron while seeking refuge in the trees. The idea of nature as a sanctuary, a refuge from “civilization,” echoes the tenets of transcendentalism, a basic romantic concept.  Sylvia, as her name suggests, is a child of nature, completely at ease in the natural environment that supports and nurtures her spiritually. As she climbs the tree in search of a literal truth, she transcends the temporal, moving closer to a sense of oneness with the universe.  Yet the strains of reality remain a constant presence, as the outside world intrudes in the form of the hunter with his gun and the ornithologist in search of scientific truth. Thus, the elements of Romanticism and Realism are juxtaposed, revealing the harsh abrasiveness of life and the need for escape.  Similarly James Wright’s poem, “A Blessing,” reflects an inner spiritual response to the horses, creatures of nature, in a brief respite from the mundane reality of everyday life.  In personifying the horses, the speaker reflects the emotional complexities of modern life – loneliness, love, happiness, alienation – and the desire to transcend the norm in search of a pure, almost poetic experience. In both Jewett and Wright, Romanticism provides opportunities for escape and reflection, nurturing the soul in an otherwise sterile environment.

            As Realism and Modernism gained momentum, the natural setting receded in the rise of the fast-paced urban landscape.  Yet the intrinsic desire to escape the here and now remains evident, though in different terms, in the works of Hurston and Fitzgerald.  In “the Gilded Six-Bits,” desire manifests itself in the want of material things; thus, Missie May jeopardizes her marriage by committing adultery.  Moreover, Joe’s desire for his wife is partly predicated on her value in the eyes of others.  Basically, the husband’s desire for his wife and the wife’s desire for money become the new equation for modern love.  Even though Hurston’s characters eventually rebuild their relationship, something is lost in the process, echoing the romantic elements of desire and loss.  Similarly, in Fitzgerald, Dexter’s desire of Judy arises, in part, from his sense of her worth as the ultimate prize.  For Dexter, transcendence comes in his ability to dream, to move beyond the here and now. However, in the modernist’s view, dreams are simply dreams.  When Dexter confronts the loss of his illusions, he confronts the reality of a cruel world.  While Missie May and Joe find solace in the birth of their child, a symbol of innocence and promise, Dexter can only move in a twilight world without the romantic possibility of hope.

Resoundingly, elements of Romanticism surface in post-Romantic works, creating a keen awareness that material gain inevitably creates the loss of the ideal. [Yvonne Hopkins]

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 . . . There appears to be a constant that humankind must come to terms with and that is things will change.  We must let go of the people we love, the places we remember and the unavailable future. . . .

In the film “Out of the past,” by Jacques Tourneur, a hero is brought into circumstances where others control him and his desires for the femme fatale, Kathy, who becomes a distorted reality.  This film allows the viewers to creep inside the mind of the manipulated hero, and share the turmoil associated with his desires and his loss. [Holly Anderson]

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If an object is desired, obtained and kept, its value/emotion diminishes over time. The object becomes common place and is taken for granted.  A separation, or the potential for loss, is needed to revive the desire and passion. . . .

            In The Last of the Mohicans, Cooper continuously brings Cora and Alice close to their father only to have them taken away again and again.  In doing so, the reader is carried along on an emotional rollercoaster along with the characters. The characters are never given time to grow tired of one another before they are separated again. [Chris Lucas]

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Uncle Tom’s Cabin is a roller coaster ride of desire and loss; everyone wants something and loses that which they’d rather keep.  The most obvious are Tom and Eliza, who both lose their home and family.  While the story centers on those two primary characters, every character introduced, particularly the slave characters, suffer a fundamental loss that affects their lives and how they interact with those around them.

Stowe’s slave characters suffer the most losses and yet all have only one desire, freedom, except Uncle Tom.  A fundamental quality to any literature, especially a romantic narrative, is for the reader to be able to experience the journey, to feel the same loss and desire as the characters.  But Uncle Tom himself is extremely hard for a twenty-first century African American to bond with, because Tom doesn’t seem to yearn for his freedom.  He misses his family, he misses his former master, but he doesn’t seem to miss being free.  Given he’s never known freedom, but human nature would seem to demand that an oppressed person would want to be free of that oppression.  This raises the question of whether Tom’s failure to desire freedom is why most African Americans consider Uncle Tom to be anathema?  They fail to be able to relate to what it is that he does desire, because he seems to desire a continued slave existence.  This is the one place that the desire and loss theme within Uncle Tom’s Cabin falls apart for me as a reader. [Rosalyn Mack]

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            The theme of desire and loss play an undeniably strong role in American Romantic texts.  It would seem that this is so due to the intrinsic part desire and loss plays in the individual narrative itself.  Desire and loss are two powerful forces that shape the human experience.  It is our desire which drives us, which has brought about the rise of vast civilizations, and it is desire, which lies behind human motivation towards action.  Since the world which we must live in is finite, everything is doomed to return at some point to the oblivion from which it sprang, but because we as thinking being carry to some extent the shadow of what was, worlds exist in the human conscience long past their demise.  It is this human capacity for reflection and projection that give desire and loss such power in our lives and in the stories we tell ourselves about our lives.  We have the ability to both recall yesterday in perfect clarity, though it is lost to us, and yearn for tomorrow, which we cannot yet reach.  This temporality, which is the basis of our existence, lends itself to romantic expression, in fact giving the romance the internal tension that leads to the desire for expression.  Without desire and loss, what would we have to write about?  Where would the imagination be with yesterday and tomorrow.  In the role of author, or story teller humankind tells and retells it its story of desire for what tomorrow may bring and regret at the loss of yesterday.

            Perhaps at least some of the lasting appeal of Whitman is his ability to cross the boundary of time as he does in "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry."  In it he blurs the line both between himself and time, and well as himself and others.  He captures both a sense of loss and nostalgia when he imagines the people who will cross the ferry just as he is doing, and yet as the poem continues the sense of nostalgia dissipates as the since of union between people separated by generations takes place.   "What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks/in my face?/Which fuses me into you now, and pours meaning into you?"  He reaches out and effectively imagines the future he desires to behold. . . . [Thomas Parker]

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Romantic literature, be it American or European, has a special place among the great literary movements.  It is, perhaps, the movement which speaks most directly to every reader.  The novels and poetry of the period are some of the most beloved and reread works of all times.  Romanticism owes its appeal to the fact that the major themes inherent in the movement are ones which speak to the very hearts and souls of its readers.  One such theme is the theme of desire and loss.  Desire and loss can occur on various levels–spiritually, psychologically, physically, and emotionally.  But regardless of the form which they take, desire and loss represent one of the most significant themes of Romanticism because they help to explain the enormous appeal and rhetorical effect of Romantic works.  By examining works written around the American Romantic period, desire and loss can be studied on each of the previously mentioned levels.  From the pre-romantic period, desire and loss can be studied on a spiritual level in “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”  The Gothic-Romantic tale, “Ligeia” demonstrates the power of desire and loss in the psychological realm.  Slave narratives, including Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl present a dramatic look at desire and loss on a physical level.  Finally, in the post-Romantic period, Wolfe exhibits the Romantic quality of desire and loss as it is manifested emotionally.

Beginning in the Pre-Romantic period, the broad appeal and rhetorical effect of desire and loss can be seen in “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” by Jonathan Edwards.  Edwards is appealing to the spiritual desires of his audience while at the same time creating a terror over the potential loss of their immortal soul.  What makes this use of desire and loss particularly interesting is that Edwards really determines the audience’s desire for them by showing them what their loss will be.  Edwards wants his audience to desire salvation.  Knowing that they may not necessarily have the sense of urgency he wants them to, he forces a choice–desire salvation or lose your soul.    In this example the fear of loss fuels the desire.  This is but one example if the versatility of the theme, but the power of the desire and loss theme is already being established and it will soon be adopted by the Romantic movement. [Kristy Pawlak]

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Wanting “anything besides the ‘here and now’ or ‘reality’ marks a basic component of the romantic spirit.  A yearning for something other than what one has and a vision of a better way often lead to a “quest or journey that involves crossing boundaries,” or a flight, capture and then escape.  The character finds, creates or escapes to the place of their dreams and/or suffers terrible pain and nostalgia when the ideal space is lost or destroyed.  The desire for the perfect state the Romantic can envision and the sense of loss over not having or losing this imagined, heavenly state (i.e. suffering the post-Fall mentality) serve as the emotional engine propelling the composition.

            Alas, examples of “desire and loss” can be identified in nearly every piece we read this semester.  For instance, in “White Heron,” Sylvy feels fear and sadness when the hunter arrives and shoots the birds he encounters, and they drop to the ground, lifeless.  The loss of life of creatures she adores and respects fills her with dread and a sadness and seems symbolic of a larger invasion of technology taking away innocence, killing defenseless birds.  Indeed, the larger loss is the destruction of nature through the overpowering use of technology against it. 

            A similar movement occurs in Cooper’s Pioneers with the invasion of the hunters who use technology--rifles--to shoot Passenger Pigeons indiscriminately until the birds are extinct, resulting in the literal loss of an entire species of bird. [April Patrick]