American Literature: Romanticism research assignment Student Research Submissions 2015 Research Essay

Hanna Mak

13 May 2015

The European Role in the Romantic Definition of America

Nathaniel Hawthorne and James Fenimore Cooper both frequently lamented the shortcomings of the American past as a source of creative inspiration, deeming it far too recent and ordinary for the tenor of their romantic style (Steinbrink 27). However, in spite of this complaint—or perhaps because of it—both authors furnished the evidently lacking American identity with unique identities of their own, coloring its depiction with distinct values and prejudices that reflected their personal and artistic origins. In order to fully compare and contrast the elaborate American identities that were shaped by their literary contributions, one must duly take note of their interactions abroad. When taken together with the glaring lack of a non-native American past, the innumerable political, cultural and religious connections that existed between the Old and New Worlds rendered it impossible not to view the cultures of both side by side, and ultimately, while the patriotic instinct might have been to discount any similarities between Europe and the fledgling nation, the latter’s frequent resemblance to England was not to be ignored. The experiences of Hawthorne and Cooper overseas, particularly in regard to established foreign notions of duty, hierarchy and aristocracy, facilitated the re-contextualization and subsequent shaping of America as they understood it. While the influence of Hawthorne’s experiences abroad may be observed in marked changes to his expression of national identity, Cooper’s experiences altered his tone largely in that they intensified his beliefs, especially in terms of the rapidly growing disillusionment that he felt towards his countrymen.

In order to accurately reflect upon the ideological development that stemmed from each author’s period of residence in Europe, one must first examine the overall tone of their works prior to the majority of their travels overseas. Beginning with Hawthorne, both Young Goodman Brown and The Minister’s Black Veil are typical of his work prior to his overseas appointment via at least one major distinction—his identity as an American author during this period was almost entirely defined in terms of regionalism rather than nationalism. Instead of working towards the embodiment of a more broadly unifying national identity, during this time he largely drew inspiration from themes which reflected his personal ties to Salem and the state of Massachusetts (Clayblaugh 286). Young Goodman Brown is thoroughly representative of this point, not only in terms of its setting in Salem, which necessarily relies upon the presence of realistic details to ground the narrative in its chosen location, but also in terms of its apparent design to expose the unique brand of hypocrisy that exemplified much of Puritan culture in New England. In the following quotation, Hawthorne references actual institutions and believable personages which exemplify the author’s regionalism, affixing an approximated date and place to his fantastic moral tale: “Among them...appeared faces that would be seen next day at the council board of the province. ...Some affirm that the lady of the governor was there. At least there were high dames well known to her...Either the sudden gleams of light flashing over the obscure field bedazzled Goodman Brown, or he recognized a score of the church members of Salem village famous for their especial sanctity.” While the character of Hawthorne’s New England Puritanism in this text is decidedly regional, however, it is also unequivocally American; but it is a definition of America that originates almost purely from within, unlike those definitions which begin to emerge after his overseas appointment. Obviously, although the claim cannot be made that he ever entirely divorced himself from such regional influences, it is demonstrable through the comparison of early to later texts that his relationship to the nation would not emerge unaffected by his travels abroad.

With the groundwork laid to examine the trajectory of Hawthorne’s European influence, it becomes necessary to scrutinize the early works of Cooper for a similar purpose, albeit to a different end. The analysis of Cooper’s literary contributions prior to his European residence may easily center on two of his novels, with slightly different thematic emphases to be highlighted in each. The first novel of the two to be employed in this illustration is The Pioneers, published in 1823. In this work, Cooper reveals to the reader his idealized version of the early republic: “In short, the whole district is hourly exhibiting how much can be done, in even a rugged country and with a severe climate, under the dominion of mild laws, and where every man feels a direct interest in the prosperity of a commonwealth of which he knows himself to form a part.” Emphasizing the equal and altruistic participation of each citizen in the simple yet disciplined maintenance of the republic, he pairs the force of this noble and industrious community with only a minimal intrusion of the law into their daily lives, offering the reader a glimpse into his nostalgia for his conceptualization of the young republic through the quality of his fiction. In direct connection with this markedly nostalgic assessment of supposed past republican principles, one may observe Cooper’s habitually forceful condemnation of greed and self-interest, a sentiment that is inextricably linked with the general anxiety that he evidently felt towards the prospect of socioeconomic change (Watts 61). Directly echoing this disgust, Oliver Effingham attacked the tendencies towards self-interest that he observed in the motivations of Judge Templeton, even as a man in command of great respect within his community: “’The wolf of the forest is not more rapacious for his prey, than that man is greedy for gold,” he declared; “and yet his glidings into wealth are as subtle as the movements of a serpent.’”

The second novel in question, Cooper’s most famous publication of The Last of the Mohicans in 1826, can also be seen to illustrate a great many of the virtues which he perceived as fundamental to the construction of his flawless American ideal. However, in this analysis, the primary focus will rely upon a select core themes. One highly notable aspect of the ideal American past that is consistently established within the text is the author’s fixation upon the inherently noble quality to be found in an unmixed ancestry. For Cooper, it is a quality which is ultimately portrayed as profoundly desirable in all races; a fact which is evidenced by the repeated emphasis to be found in the examples of both Hawkeye and Uncas—two strong and capable men “without a cross.” In addition, Cooper evidently placed great value upon independence as attained through skillful self-reliance, courage and natural ingenuity. In one passage, Cora may be used to exemplify these treasured qualities, when she urges the men to abandon her and her sister via the river, in order to increase the chances of the entire party’s survival: “’You but little know the craft of the Iroquois, lady, if you judge they have left the path open to the woods!’ returned Hawkeye. “Then try the river. Why linger to add to the number of the victims of our merciless enemies?’” The pointedness of her words and the quick generation of her plan demonstrate this instance as one example of the heroic courage and ingenuity that the text consistently celebrates. Additionally, this particular example ultimately ties into the nostalgic glorification of heroic individualism that is a constant fixture throughout much of Cooper’s work. For Cooper, the habitual occurrence of heroic individualism in the actions of his characters spoke to the ability of fiction to bestow events in the past with some measure of “grandeur and nobility” which he evidently felt was “lacking in the present” (Steinbrink 29). Conclusively, the numerous individual and convergent themes to be found in both novels are thoroughly useful in the determination of Cooper’s overarching perception of the American ideal that would only intensify throughout the course of his disillusionment.

The disparate nature of the livelihoods that Cooper and Hawthorne maintained as writers undoubtedly had a profound impact upon the temper of their interactions with Europe, thereby affecting an influence upon the reflections that arose from each author in response. In turn, the particular variations to be found in their reflections produced two distinctive interpretations of an ideal American cultural and political identity, which manifested in the work which followed. In one particularly telling example in the gulf of difference that separated the course of their lives and careers, it should be noted that although both men were appointed as consuls in an official capacity, they were ultimately faced with vastly different responsibilities, and attained their government appointments under greatly different circumstances. Hawthorne’s appointment as consul to Liverpool in 1841 was granted in return for a favor that he performed for his friend, Franklin Pierce, who requested that he author his campaign biography in exchange for the opportunity (Clayblaugh 285). For Hawthorne, who struggled to support himself as a writer, this was an opportunity that he graciously accepted. In fact, prior to his publication of The Scarlet Letter in 1850, Hawthorne half-jokingly reflected that at the time he felt he could scarcely “regard himself as addressing the American Public, or, indeed, and Public at all,” due to the relatively unpopular reception of his early work (Bense 206). Ultimately, the positions of consulship during this time were being used by the government as a patronage system for the benefit of the arts, and it allowed Hawthorne to continue to support his family (Clayblaugh 285). However, his appointment as consul to Liverpool impacted his work in a number of other ways as well.

First, his involvement in the position of consul was one of the primary contributing factors towards making Hawthorne’s work less purely regional and more broadly American. Analyzing the transformation of self that he derived from public service as an “identity imposed from without,” he also wrote that while he “lost property in his own person” as a public official, he gained something substantial in return—a newfound identification with the state (Clayblaugh 287). When referred to by the title of his public office, or when he became absorbed in the process of fulfilling its duties, he wrote that his actions as a consul also made him reflect upon his nature as a representative of American literature—something that he had previously never considered himself to be (Clayblaugh 287). From his experiences abroad, he came to consider the nationally unifying quality to exist above and independent of regional ties—to be an American, one must necessarily have their regional ties, but the essence of America existed in the abstractions of duty. One textual demonstration of Hawthorne’s acute distinction between regionalism and nationalism may be found in a satirical essay that he wrote in 1862, “Chiefly About War Matters.” After the outbreak of the Civil War, Hawthorne travelled to Washington D.C., where he met President Lincoln. In the original and unaltered piece, Hawthorne describes the president in physical terms that border on the grotesque, but he discusses these physical qualities in terms of their relation between symbolic appearance and a deeper, more essentially-bound truth (Wesp 419). In his essay, Hawthorne reflects: “Western man though he be, and Kentuckian by birth, President Lincoln is the essential representative of all Yankees, and the veritable specimen, physically, of what the world seems determined to regard as our characteristic qualities.” Hawthorne seems to suggest that Lincoln holds power as an “iconic representation” of the Union’s abstract ideals, and yet simultaneously, he takes care to draw the reader’s attention to the fact that he is a “Western man” and a “Kentuckian”—in other words, not the essential American, as “the world” is “determined” to assert. In this instance, Hawthorne employs the details of regionalism in order to emphasize in its negative relation his overarching sense of abstract nationalism.

Another important impact of Hawthorne’s government appointment was that it enlightened his perspective towards both England and France in ways which greatly influenced his overall conceptualization of America. When he arrived in Liverpool as consul, Hawthorne reportedly felt that he was held in contempt by the English, but it should be noted that he felt decidedly unfriendly towards them as well, describing the aristocrats as “ordinary,” the women obese, and complaining that the city reeked like the “stench of the old order” (Clayblaugh 287). However, Hawthorne soon discovered a problem with his patriotic worldview—ultimately, the vast majority of what he valued as essential components in American culture could, in truth, be more appropriately described as aspects of Anglo-American culture. He encountered numerous Englishmen who revered the Founding Fathers for their principles, he noticed that the American Declaration of Independence was hanging proudly on the wall of a club dinner he attended, and found that he could not ignore the connection of England to his native Massachusetts in the ideals and aesthetics of the Milton club, whose Puritan values necessarily mirrored those of his home (Clayblaugh 287). Therefore, while he initially perceived the United States and England as rivals, he found that they were ultimately co-inheritors of the same political and literary traditions, lending him a heightened sense of perspective on the relationship between their two countries.

Besides gaining insight into Anglo-American interactions, Hawthorne’s period of government service in Europe also drew his attention to the impact of French and American relations as well. His observation of French society, or as he came to see it, the “French cataclysm,” heightened his already present fear towards the proliferation of fundamentally egalitarian ideals (Mendilow 133). Noting the seemingly never-ending cycle of revolution and unrest, Hawthorne ultimately believed that once true egalitarianism was achieved in a society, its impact was wholly irreversible (Mendilow 134). In conjunction with the rise of such an egalitarian society, he predicted the rapid increase of technological change, which would serve to “alienate people from one another” and their common past, as well as bind them inextricably to the overwhelming need for “economic success” (Mendilow 129-130). The Birth-Mark in 1843 and Rappacini’s Daughter in 1844 duly reflect many the author’s anxieties and suspicions in this regard, especially in terms of their relation to individual advancement via reckless scientific and technological expansion.

In The Birth-Mark, the main character, Aylmer, is a scientist who marries a beautiful young woman, Georgiana; however, the level of absorption that Aylmer exhibits in his studies directly speaks to the same alienating effect that Hawthorne feared: “He had devoted himself, however, too unreservedly to scientific studies ever to be weaned from them by any second passion. His love for his young wife might prove the stronger of the two; but it could only be by intertwining itself with his love of science, and uniting the strength of the latter to his own.” In lieu of a communal past and a shared deference for religious and hierarchical institutions, Aylmer is only able to process the love of his wife through the lens of his work as a scientist, to the detriment of both parties; unfortunately, his wife has one flaw which Aylmer cannot seem to ignore—a red, hand-shaped birthmark on her cheek. Conditioned by the nature of his work to unrelentingly strive for perfection, he eventually could not bear the sight of his wife: “seeing her otherwise so perfect, he found this one defect grow more and more intolerable… It was the fatal flaw of humanity which Nature, in one shape or another, stamps ineffaceably on all her productions, either to imply that they are temporary and finite, or that their perfection must be wrought by toil and pain.” Although his scientific attempts to remove the mark finally prove successful, they end up killing Georgiana in the process. In this post-consulate work of Hawthorne, therefore, we see his fears of egalitarian scientific progress, as influenced by his travels abroad, pushed to their extreme and tragic conclusion.

Following the examination of the impact that Hawthorne’s European interactions had upon his understanding and development of the American identity, it becomes necessary to turn one’s attention to its counterpart in James Fenimore Cooper. In stark contrast to Hawthorne, Cooper was offered the position of consul freely, due to the intensely popular acclaim that was afforded him as a result of The Last of the Mohicans; the novel readily drew the admiration of the governor of New York, who wrote to the Secretary of State with the question as to whether or not the United States had any honor similar to that of knighthoods overseas. Originally, Cooper was offered the position of consul to Sweden, but he rejected it because he felt that the responsibilities of the office would interfere with his family’s enjoyment of their travels abroad (Clayblaugh 284). In place of this unsatisfactory arrangement, the Secretary of State offered Cooper a position as consul to Lyon, with the added stipulation that a co-consul would be appointed to actually perform the duties that the post required. Through this compromise, he would not experience the inconvenience of unwanted responsibilities, but would still be able to receive what was essentially a title of honor from a country whose founders lawfully immortalized in their nation a healthy aversion to such foreign trappings of aristocratic favor (Clayblaugh 285). While Hawthorne’s consulship had a demonstrable effect upon his work in and of itself, the example of Cooper’s consular position, which was essentially ceremonial, is rather indicative of a larger trend in his European involvement that directed the intensification of his pre-established ideals.

In many ways, the nature of the consular position that Cooper held was a microcosm of his own ideological unity between aristocratic and republican values—although he earnestly supported equality in “suffrage and law” for all Americans, he also wholeheartedly believed in the importance of an established social hierarchy, with average citizens showing deference to the “natural aristocrat” that could be found in the example of the “republican gentleman” (Watts 66). In fact, he viewed the role of these “benevolent lords” as one that was vital in any truly productive, democratic society (Paul 43). In 1828, Cooper published Notions of the Americans: Picked up by a Traveling Bachelor, a work which reflected his “republican optimism” while appealing to the nation’s “European critics” (Watts 59). John Cadwallader, the native citizen who accompanied the traveling English bachelor on his journeys in America, explained the country as just such a system. Cadwallader insisted that the republic demanded political equality, with “no legal barrier to the advancement of any one” but it rejected social equality, and instead nominated “Men of Property and Character” to serve in public appointments with “the most perfect good-sense and practical usefulness.” Ultimately, while Cadwallader’s reflections on the early republic were far from rooted in historical fact, they did precisely represent Cooper’s own values, as well as his need to “create a myth of the republic’s virtuous founding and its sustenance” (Watts 60).

Cooper’s nostalgic idealization of the early American republic, as well as his continually expressed need for an established social hierarchy, share a thematic link with many of the other motifs that are common in his work. In particular, the glorification of the heroic individual, his condemnation of wanton self-interest as a violation of social hierarchy, and to some extent, his belief in the intrinsically noble quality of “uncrossed” blood come to mind. However, the manifestation of these themes in his later work often employ decidedly intensified language, and even reflect the increasing frustrations of the author. The Deerslayer, published in 1841, echoes a great deal of these early sentiments in its closing line, but is permeated with the texture of Cooper’s steadily growing disillusionment: “We live in a world of transgressions and selfishness, and no pictures that represent us otherwise can be true, though, happily, for human nature, gleamings of that pure spirit in whose likeness man has been fashioned are to be seen, relieving its deformities, and mitigating if not excusing its crimes.” In this passage, the condemnation of selfishness and greed that is prevalent in Cooper’s earlier work is present, but its impact here is much more forceful. Not only does the language found in the passage assume an uncommonly strong tone in its remonstrance, its forcefulness is augmented by the fact that it is not spoken by a character, but through the more authoritative voice of the omniscient narrator. Additionally, its position as the final statement in the text is not unremarkable. Cooper believed that the overarching message of a piece took far greater precedence over its aesthetics, and subsequently, it was important that the reader clearly understood his meaning (Paul 39). His decision to leave the reader with this memorable closing statement, therefore, is further indicative of its ideological significance. 

However, behind these marked shifts in Cooper’s tone lurked the influence of his separation from America, as well as the disenchantment that he felt in the wake of its changing society. After Cooper’s return to New York at the end of 1833, the popular author published his social novel Home as Found in 1838. In Home as Found, the Templeton and Effingham families again make an appearance, but the “republican utopia” of The Pioneers has since fallen apart, due to the citizen’s relentless pursuit of wealth (Watts 63). When the Effinghams visit Wall Street, this commentary is made: “money has got to be so completely the end of life, that few think of it as a means. …All principles are swallowed up in the absorbing desire for gain—national honor, permanent security, the ordinary rules of society, the constitution, and everything that is usually so dear to men.” Cooper’s use of the same memorable characters in such an altered backdrop highlights not only the profound changes that he experienced himself, but it also demonstrates the highly personal and emotional nature of his reaction to these changes. The fictional town of “Templetown,” which mirrored Cooper’s own “Cooperstown,” did not escape the heavy hand of change, as it too had become wrought with “vulgar scramble and heart-burnings…in the melee of a migrating and unsettled population.” Ultimately, as Edward Effingham unhappily observed, “a predominant feeling in the American nature, I fear, is to love change.”

For both Cooper and Hawthorne, their interactions with Europe influenced their work dramatically, and did so in variously different ways. Although Cooper’s stint in Europe provided him with a somewhat greater sense of perspective through the benefit of its distance, this same sense of perspective may have hindered his ability to soberly assess the reality of the national situation, forcing his perspective into a more reactionary quality. In this sense, his interaction with Europe served to heighten and solidify his pre-existing notions of the ideal America. In Hawthorne’s work, his dialogue with Europe also may have gained him greater insight, although contrary to the example of Cooper, the level of his conservatism appeared to have remained untouched. His particular concept of the American identity, however, began its expansion and development during those formative years abroad. Ultimately, it may be said that if the American people owe to its rich literary tradition for the establishment of some ideal national identity, any stubborn insistence upon the purity of its self-origination is little more than the maintenance of an illusion.

Works Cited

Claybaugh, Amanda. "The Consular Service and US Literature: Nathanial Hawthorne Abroad" NOVEL: A Forum on Fiction 42.2 (2009): 284-289. Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Gladsky, Thomas S. "James Fenimore Cooper and American Nativism" Studies in the American Renaissance (1994): 43-53. Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Steinbrink, Jeffrey. "James Fenimore Cooper and the Limits of History" Historical Reflections (1976): 25-33 Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Watts, Steven. "Through A Glass Eye, Darkly: James Fenimore Cooper as Social Critic" Journal of the Early Republic 13.1 (1993): 55-74 Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Mendilow, Jonathan. "Nathaniel Hawthorne and Conservatism's "Night of Ambiguity"" Political Theory 23.1 (1995): 128-146. Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Wesp, Edward. "Beyond the Romance: The Aesthetics of Hawthorne's "Chiefly About War Matters"" Texas Studies in Literature and Language 52.4 (2010): 408-432. Web. 20 Apr. 2015.

Paul, Jay S. "Home as Cherished: The Theme of Family in Fenimore Cooper” Studies in the Novel  5.1 (1973): 39-51. Web. 20 Apr. 2015.