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LITR 5431 American
Romanticism 2010 Student Midterm Samples #1 long essay w/ instructor's bolds & comments |
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Elena Luquette
A Gothic Transcendence into the Sublime
I have never been
a fan of American literature. I made it a point during my undergraduate career
to avoid it at all costs. Unfortunately, one of the requirements to graduate was
to take an American literature course—I chose a class on the American novel. I
was not impressed. We read Deerslayer,
Moby Dick and
Beloved to name a few. I passed the
course with an A, but with an even greater, overwhelming hate for American
literature. I was not annoyed by the landscape descriptions, I wanted to fill my
mind with philosophy and politics. For me, literature is about transcendence. It
should inspire change and forward-movement. I was never moved reading American
literature. However, you should be happy to know, that I have been moved,
inspired, and my prejudices overcome. American novels remain, for the most part,
uninteresting to me—but the short stories, the essays, the “personal
narratives,” are fantastic. After further analysis of our course objectives,
particularly the study of the gothic, transcendence, and the sublime, I
understand how they all connect in the texts we have read. Hawthorne’s fantasy
is thought- provoking, Emerson’s poetic essay appeals to the soul and Jonathan
Edwards’ scare-tactics inspire the reader (or congregation) to change.
We can begin with
Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown,” a short story, almost a parody, about early
Puritan beliefs, which were on the rise again. Hawthorne wanted to illustrate
for his audience, the hypocrisy he found in Puritan logic. He satirized their
belief in original sin and their insistence that everyone is evil inside. He
highlights the issue concerning public displays of piety and righteousness
meanng nothing in relation to the
darkness that dwells in the hearts of men. Hawthorne’s point (one of them at
least): if everyone is evil inside, then the
Puritan’s are as well. Who are they
to accuse? Why should anyone listen to them, when they are just as evil? He uses
gothic imagery to illuminate the dark and unknown path toward the devil, where
everyone is evil. (On a side note, the name of Goodman Brown’s wife, Faith, is
one of the greatest metaphors I have ever encountered. It is comical and
effective.) Hawthorne writes, “He had taken a dreary road, darkened by all the
gloomiest trees in the forest, which barely stood aside to let the narrow path
creep through, and closes immediately behind.” The road to the devil is dark and
narrow, and yet everyone takes it. The black staff, “which bore the likeness of
a black snake,” is creepy enough. When Goodman Brown gets a hold of it, insanity
breaks loose. He has lost his Faith and “maddened with despair, so that he
laughed loud and long, did Goodman Brown grab his staff and set forth again.”
It’s interesting that the dark clouds above move and the sky is clear just when
Goodman Brown turns to the dark side. Here, Hawthorne presents his case, the
maddened man, destroyed by the knowledge that good and pious Christians by day
are worshipping the devil by night. He is forever changed by this knowledge and
forever suspicious of everyone around him. Hawthorne wants his audience to see
the irony in that—Goodman Brown has lost his faith in people, because he
believes that they have all been unfaithful to God. According to Hawthorne, this
is a product of Puritan logic. He uses gothic imagery to highlight the flaws
inherent to Puritan beliefs. He uses the gothic to bring about change.
Emerson, in his
essay, “The Over-Soul,” also intends to inspire change. His tactic is a little
different though. He beautifully describes the feeling of the sublime (even
though in many philosophical discussions, beauty and the sublime are
antithetical to one another, it’s quite effective here). He describes “Man is a
stream whose source is hidden. Our being is descending into us from we know not
whence.” His essay is filled with heightened language, and yet the reader rarely
feels intimidated by it. He resolves that man’s soul is more than just a piece
of a whole, but it is one with the whole and yet the whole is greater than man.
He writes, “From within or from behind, a light shines through us upon things,
and makes us aware that we are nothing, but the light [shining through us] is
all.” Emerson uses language of the sublime in order to provoke desire toward it.
He describes a transcendence in the soul of man, “The soul’s advances are not
made by gradation, such as can be represented by motion in a straight line; but
rather by ascension of state, such as can be represented by metamorphosis.”
Later, he writes, “We distinguish the announcements of the soul, its
manifestations of its own nature, by the term
Revelation. These are always attended
by the emotion of the sublime. For this communication is an influx of the Divine
mind into our mind.” When man comes to the realization that God is in him and
all around him and still over him, he changes, he transcends into a state of the
sublime. Emerson’s method is really very effective. He does not want to scare
anyone into change, but coax them in, lure them with his words. Though different
than many other authors, Emerson’s essay is beautiful and awe-inspiring none-
the- less. It epitomizes the sublime as the grand, sometimes frightening, but
awesome experience that the classical philosophers described it.
This brings me to
Jonathan Edwards. I know that it seems I am working backwards, chronologically.
But I really think that Edwards, although he wrote in the Pre-Romantic period,
really made the most use out of all the major ideas we seem to have been
discussing in this course; the gothic, transcendence, and the sublime are all
evident in his work. When I first began this course, I had a difficult time
understanding the meaning of the word
sublime. I could not fully wrap my mind around the concept of pleasure in
pain. Although I had experience in prior readings about religion and philosophy,
something seemed to be missing. Even class discussion seemed useless to me and
eventually I gave up. Frustrated with the problem, I did a little research. I
read about Burke and Kant and Schopenhauer—all philosophers I had read before,
only this time it was different. I had literature to support their notions.
Before, it had just been theory, intangible, un-relatable; there was no
supporting evidence, no example to explain their ideas. I then went back to the
texts I had been reading for class—that’s when things started to make sense. I
was finally able to understand (to an extent) the nature of the sublime and even
how it relates to the gothic (another term that I struggled with). It occurred
to me that, in several of our readings, the gothic was a tool, or a catalyst,
that transcends the reader to a more elevated state, in hopes of achieving the
sublime.
Edwards’
Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God
was at first disturbing. Having been raised Methodist, his fire and brimstone
approach shocked me. By the time I finished reading the sermon, I was angry and
confused. I began to read his Personal
Narrative and found myself even more lost. How could a man that spoke so
violently about the people in his own congregation write so beautifully about
peace and love and God? This is where the research came in handy. I took another
look at Edwards’ sermon to the sinners and came to the realization that his
words were more than just a scare- tactic. When read in conjunction with his
Personal Narrative, they were a
catalyst—the catalyst I had been searching for in American literature. He used
the gothic imagery to frighten his congregation into change. He wanted them to
transcend beyond their current modes of life so that they could feel and
understand the truly sublime relationship he had with God. In an attempt to
bring back the traditional values of Puritan life, he detailed a death more
painful and everlasting than anyone could ever dream of. Reminiscent of James
Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young
Man, his sermon inspired awe… and fear. On the sinners, spared by God alone,
he writes, “The old serpent is gaping for them; hell opens its mouth wide to
receive them; and if God should permit it, they would be hastily swallowed up
and lost.” Later, he continues, elaborating on the notion of original sin,
“There is laid in the very carnal nature of men, a foundation for the torments
of hell.” This is exactly the kind of ideology that Hawthorne was trying to
persuade against in “Young Goodman Brown.” Hawthorne’s work was almost in
retaliation to Edwards’, though they used similar tactics. Both used the gothic
to instill fear and inspire change. The imagery Edwards provides is frightening
and might scare many into conversion. His plea is for men to repent and become
reborn again (and again and again). He believes that although many claim to be
Christian, they have fallen out of Christ. Like Hawthorne, he is disgusted by
the public displays of righteousness when many return home from church only to
sin again. However, Edwards truly believes that evil resides in everyone’s heart
and until they all come to this realization, they will never transcend to a
higher understanding of faith.
Sinners, alone, was not
effective for me. As I said, it made me angry more than anything. After reading
his Personal Narrative, however, I
understood the whole story. In this piece, Edwards describes his transcendence
into the sublime. He admits that it took several “rebirths” to get to the point
he had achieved and that he would have to do it again and again. Not to be
callous, but it kind of reminded me of a twelve step program. After finally
reaching the twelfth step, the alcoholic must return again to step one and start
again from the beginning. With each rebirth, the alcoholic builds a stronger
foothold to walk upon. His journey will never be complete, but his faith
stronger (both in himself and with God). This, to me, is what Edwards
describes—a life journey on a slippery slope. Sometimes, often more than we
would like, we must return again to the beginning and start anew. He reminds me
of Petrarch and his story about climbing Mount Ventoux. Petrarch meets several
obstacles along the way and frequently begins to turn back, only to find a
better path to the top. When he reaches the top, he realizes that he must look
inside, towards his soul, rather than at the aesthetic world around him.
Edwards looks to God and his infinitely complex, yet subtly simple
relationship with him. He writes, “But in process of time, my convictions and
affections wore off… and [I] returned like a dog to his vomit, and went on in
the ways of sin.” Each time he thinks he has achieved some sort of
enlightenment, he is set back, but each time he is also more aware of the
dangers that await him.
Edwards pours
himself sweetly and completely into his faith, further strengthening his
relationship with God. His evolution is detailed by benchmarks in his faith. He
first accepts the sovereignty of God, then allows himself to see heaven a sweet
and holy place, only to come to believe it to be much more than he ever
imagined. His idea of Christianity changes and develops into a more and more
sublime understanding and (to steal Emerson’s word) unity with him. He later
illustrates the awesome and grand nature of God. He writes, “The soul of a true
Christian… appeared like such a little white flower as we see in the spring of
the year; low and humble on the ground, opening its bosom to receive the
pleasant beams of the sun’s glory; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rapture.”
The most beautiful and most telling example of Edwards’ notion of the sublime is
when he writes, “My heart panted after this—to lie low before God, as in the
dust; that I might be nothing, and that God might be
all, that I might become as a little
child.” This is sublime. This is what Edwards hoped for his congregation to see:
God is everything, all-encompassing, and everywhere; we are nothing compared to
him; we are tiny dots on a grid of spectators admiring his work. That’s a scary
thought-- overwhelming, intense and beautiful. The pleasure comes with the
horror that we are all nothing… and He id everything. Edwards’ gothic imagery in
Sinners was meant to inspire
(granted, through fear) a change in them. He wanted them to transcend their
sinful lives and attain the sublime.
Hawthorne,
Emerson and Edwards all share the common goal to encourage change in their
audience. They intended to provoke transcendence into a better understanding of
life, religion, philosophy, etc.
Each author used a different method, but the goal remained the same. Whether you
call it change, or evolution or transcendence, it is what makes humanity human.
This is a characteristic not only of the Romantic era, but of the way of
American life.
.
. . your paragraphs are so long, crowded, and disorganized that I got dizzy and
spun out more than once, but to your great credit I always found reasons to pick
up and try again. You’re an energetic and sometimes eloquent writer; your
writing seems to rise from the heart and come to terms with your mind,
especially your discussion of Edwards. You make the discussion matter, not only
by taking it seriously and personally as well as intellectually, but also
because you keep returning to the discussion and working with it till you’re
satisfied—which your reader shares.
That gift can’t be taught, but you need to start teaching yourself some standard
paragraph organization:
http://coursesite.uhcl.edu/hsh/Whitec/INST/paragrafs.htm.
Welcome to review. I can’t be anything but encouraging of your talent, but you
have to measure out your gift in manageable units.
