One thing that always seems
to intrigue me about nineteenth century author Nathaniel Hawthorne is the
way in which he sets up descriptions of characters, and the manner in which he
drags on metaphors; much like passages from Homer's epic The Iliad. "I knew that
pale, elderly face, with the red-tipt nose, and the patch over one eye... only
revealing enough of himself to make me recognize him as
an acquaintance" (Hawthorne 6). The portrait painted only goes to
show how concise, yet perfectly enthralling every detail is. This is something
that I really enjoy about Hawthorne, he uses each word in a meaningful sense
instead of just throwing in actions words. I also enjoy the unreliable narrator
aspect because it gives the novel greater depth, and lets the reader spend
countless hours ruminating over the meaning of each finely chiseled
adjective or metaphor.
Having such a
recondite style of writing is something I feel like not a lot of authors have
nowadays. Granted we have a more fast-paced societal structure so not many
enjoy reading multi-layered text, but I believe people's taste for fine
literature still lurks in their minds, rapaciously waiting for a palatable
paradigm of syntax and vocabulary. That said I think there's several points or
"morals" to be learned from Hawthorne's The Blithedale Romance, but one
that really stuck out to me was Coverdale's seemingly unusual and perhaps
even blatantly sordid habit. Yet in a way we are all too close
in resemblance to the caricature Hawthorne has pieced
together for us; maybe that's why it doesn't grab attention the first read
around. Hiding up in his sylvan fortress it would appear as if Miles is nothing
more than a forlorn observer of the private. After closing in on such behavior
though, the line between a young poet's unsettling past-times and our own
mundane hobbies begin to blur and mesh together forming a torpid
and surreptitious reality where the majority of civilization
resides.
Nevertheless,
Hawthorne's ineffably powerful plot twist simply fleshes out the obvious: in
past and present times mankind has been stuck in a wanton and utterly
pompous hierarchy controlled by greed for control and its pernicious relatives.
It's a wonder that our puerile way of life has flourished thus far. The need
for an army of veritable writers and inspirational storytellers has never been
greater, and I fear with the decline, perhaps the extinction of excellent writers endows us with an
indomitable portent; one that may in fact erode the mien of an entire
nation.
