Yvonne Hopkins
American Romanticism
Dr. White
Midterm
September 29, 2003

Nature’s Place in American Romanticism

            Part of the lure of Romanticism lies in its ability to transcend the mundane, to challenge the limits of human consciousness, and to suspend reality in order to explore the imagination.  As much as Romanticism celebrates the subjective experience of the individual, it also recognizes and values nature as a primeval force. From the early writings of the pre-Romanticists to the defining work of Cooper, nature emerges as a fundamental paradox capable of inspiring awe and terror while reflecting the elements of organic, mystical, and gothic Romanticism.

As Romanticism made the transition from the old world to the new, nature gained prominence not merely as a means “for sustained reflection or meditation,” but as an integral part of the real and the imagined experiences of humankind (Bedford 417).  While European Romanticism embraces the natural environment by observing nature and exploring the dark recesses of the mind in architectural interiors, American Romanticism evolves naturally from the exterior landscapes of the forests and the formidable presence of the land. 

A glimpse of the land’s ability to enthrall emerges in Columbus’s Miltonesque descriptions of the Americas.  Presenting an image of abundant fertility, vegetation “flowering […] bearing fruit […] green and […] lovely […] fertile to a limitless degree” Columbus conveys an Eden-like setting and further suggests a connection between the earthly and the celestial with the “lofty mountains” and trees reaching “to touch the sky” (26-27).  Similarly, in the writings of Jonathan Edwards, a connection between nature and the divine materializes as Edwards reflects on God’s “excellency […] purity […] and love,” and the corresponding “divine glory” in the beauty of “all nature” (186). 

In other texts, a more Romantic vision of nature evolves from the sense of its primitive state.  Separate from divine creation, nature exists as an organic entity (Bedford 417).  Formidable and enduring, it survives as Anne Bradstreet notes, the ravages of eons, remaining “insensible of time” (18. 121-22).  In effect, while humankind may come and go, raping and pillaging the land, nature remains constant, existing beyond the control of men, “lonely” yet “dignified” (Bradstreet 21. 144).  In addition to its fundamental state, nature projects mystical qualities emanating from the magnificence of its morphology -  “arches,” “fissures,” and “parapets” - and from the terror of the unknown - its cavernous “abyss” (Jefferson).  In describing the Natural Bridge, Jefferson creates an image of natural form that transcends the earthly, “so beautiful an arch, so elevated, so light,” combining a level of ecstasy with “painful and intolerable’ violence that verges on the sublime (Jefferson).  As such, nature projects more than a mere physical presence, suggesting a natural force replete with psychological dimension.

Synonymous with the psychological aspects of Romanticism are the realm of the imagination and the emergence of the Gothic tradition.  As much as the natural landscape of the new world inspires awe and desire, in the works of Rowlandson and Irving it also invokes fear and uncertainty in the image of its “vast and desolate wilderness,” so “strange and incomprehensible” (138, 449).  In a world lacking development and infrastructure, where the desire to conquer and civilize confronts the natural barriers of the land, the subsequent connection between nature and the unknown develops as a matter of course.  Thus, as explored in Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow the natural surroundings resonate with supernatural manifestations, bearing witness to the rise of the new “American Gothic” (Rodriguez).  In the deceptively cozy “uniform tranquility” of Sleepy Hollow, nature evolves as a supernatural force, conspiring to bewitch the inhabitants (2094).  The power of nature pervades the atmosphere, “a contagion in the very air,” and echoes in the sounds of the environment, exciting “the imagination” (2094). Essentially, Irving projects nature’s ability to ensnare the imagination and inspire terror – classic Gothic Romanticism. 

In a landscape that is “mysterious and appalling,” nature’s duality reflects the archetypal images of light and dark exposing the potential for good and evil in nature as in man.  As the lines between the real and the unreal become blared, as the “fearful shapes and shadows” penetrate the “cavernous gloom,” as the trees take on a “gnarled and fantastic” form, Ichabod Crane must confront the overwhelming and terrifying power of the natural setting (Irving 2109).  Moreover, as the misshapen and horrific images emerge from the landscape, nature’s ability to mutate reinforces the sense of its power as an entity separate and distinguishable from man (Irving 2109).  Decidedly, nature projects the nightmarish visions of the human imagination; yet, as Irving suggests, in its ghostly manifestations it appears to act independently, becoming more than a figment of the imagination.  Remarkably, even in the midst of despair, nature offers a token of hope in the “wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom of the brook” (Irving 2112).  The symbol of light as a beacon of hope conforms to the idea of nature as protector; however, the arbitrariness of the natural environment resounds in the ultimate demise of Crane into the realms of the unknown, an indication of nature’s dominance. 

Resoundingly, the works of the early Romanticists present a multi-faceted view of nature as more than simply a backdrop against which humankind carves its destiny.  By the time Cooper develops his classic saga of frontier Romanticism, The Last of the Mohicans, the role of nature has become central to the struggles and the triumphs of the settlers in the new world.  As in earlier texts, the wilderness remains fraught with “hazardous chances,” and the power of nature to debilitate reinforces the sense of its psychological grip on the outsiders:  “the magnifying influence of fear began to set at nought the calculations of reason” (5, 7). 

Elsewhere, Cooper expands on the antithetical notions of nature as nurturer and foe, capable of calming, restoring, and creating “a soothing impression of security” while remaining equally capable of disarming and threatening, creating “impenetrable barriers” and “barbarous sounds” (41, 59). Thus Cora and Alice take temporary comfort in the “friendly shelter of the rocks and shrubs” and “the gloom and quiet of a lovely evening” while sharing “a painful sense of their real peril” (63, 41).  Moreover, the supernatural gothic elements that haunt earlier texts emerge in the enchanted forest with its “wild charms,” “healing waters,” and references to “specters,” “vaults,” demonic cries, and the devil-like appearance of the Indians (35, 72).

Although many aspects of nature’s role in Romanticism converge in The Last of the Mohicans, Cooper’s most significant contribution arises from his ability to create a vivid sense of the almost symbiotic relationship between man and his environment.  In Chingachgook, Hawkeye, and Uncas, nature and man merge to create a defining oneness.  In communing thus, the men of the woods assimilate into the natural environment becoming “graceful and unrestrained in the attitudes and movements of nature” (44).  As such, the men possess a fundamental knowledge not only of the physicality of the land, but also an intuitive sensory ability that connects to its spirit –definitive Romanticism.  In effect, the men glide in and out of the woodlands, blending into the natural landscape which provides for and protects them in life as well as in death: “Graves bring solemn feelings over the mind […] for myself, I expect to leave my own bones unburied, to bleach in the woods” [Hawkeye] (25).  The significance of man’s oneness with nature is further emphasized in Uncas’s connection to the mythological turtle, the giver of life.  In tracing his heritage to the turtle, Uncas establishes a noble lineage and a direct link with the natural world.  While Cooper emphasizes the noble qualities of Uncas and his companions, he also alludes to the dark side of nature in the character of Magua.  Equally adept and at one with the environment, Magua’s malevolence serves as a reminder of the duality of nature and its ability to deceive and destroy. 

Undeniably, Cooper suggests a fundamental link between the Indians, the natural inhabitants of the land, and nature itself.  Yet in the character of Cora, the potential for a similar connection develops.  Of the two sisters, Alice represents the old world, removed from nature, the inhabitant of an artificial environment.  In Cora, however, the mystery of her heritage, her dark looks, and her determination mark her as a woman suited to the challenges of the environment.  While Alice projects the damsel in distress, Cora projects the survivor, able and willing to adapt; and, therefore, eminently worthy of taking her place in the natural setting of the frontier.

Essentially, nature plays a fundamental role in the development of Romanticism from the early writings of the pre-movement to the classic form of Cooper and beyond.  Lending itself to the organic, mystical, and gothic elements of the genre, nature connects with Romanticism on many levels, providing an environment in which humans must confront not only the physical realities of the landscape, but also the psychological impact of time and place.  In laying the foundation for a connection between the natural world and the spirit of Romanticism, Cooper establishes a timeless tradition, which echoes in the works of his natural heirs, Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and D. H. Lawrence.

Works Cited

Cooper, Fenimore James.  The Last of the Mohicans.  New York: The Modern Library, 2001.

Murfin, Ross and Supryia M. Ray.  The Bedford Glossary of Critical and Literary Terms.  2^nd edition.  New York: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2003.

Rodriguez, Al.  American Gothic: Tracing the Dark Romantic Through Irving, Hawthorne, and Poe.  UHCL American Romanticism, Summer 2002.