A few notes before we start:
The House of the Seven Gables is free to read on Project Gutenberg! If you're interested in reading it, check out this link.
If you didn't know, a gable is a triangular portion of a wall between the edges of intersecting roof pitches. I didn't know that when I started reading, so I thought it was worth mentioning. For some reason, I thought it meant land or grass or something.
This book is quite large and full of Hawthorne-esque detail and richness. There is absolutely no way I will be able to capture everything he was trying to say, so I'm going to do my best to pick out what I think is most important.
History is important. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. Oftentimes, increasingly of late, when it comes to our ancestors we only remember the bad. Nowadays people seem bent on picking apart the past, tearing down heroes, and burning every shred of pride we might have toward history. And while history does contain many controversies, and no one has a clean ancestry, does it mean we should forget or destroy it? How should we look at the past with both a critical eye yet one that understands and is able to place ourselves there? I think this is something that Hawthorne long wanted to express and explore.
First, with The Scarlet Letter, he examined hypocrisy and the many flaws of the Puritan way. While doing so, he took several direct shots at his ancestors, who he detested enough to add a “w” to his surname, displacing him from the Hathorne line. But, The Scarlet Letter isn’t one long rant on the atrocities of his ancestors, which is what we might expect from younger generations today. Instead, it is a look at the humanity of his ancestors. The two central characters in The Scarlet Letter, Hester and Arthur, are imperfect. And while Arthur is certainly the center of Hawthorne’s frustration, he receives redemption at the end rather than the write-off he might deserve. This is such a profound ending, as it shows Hawthorne’s ability to look at the past and understand how the world was and—more importantly—that people were as fallible then as they were at the time of his writing the novel. So too—but to a mildly lesser degree—is The House of the Seven Gables.
The Central Characters: Hawthorne's Reflections
The novel—or romance, as Hawthorne calls it—centers on three characters: Hepzibah, Clifford, and Pheobe, all of the Pyncheon family. Hepzibah and Clifford are siblings and Pheobe is their much younger cousin. The story begins with Hepzibah, the very aged and isolated occupant of The House of the Seven Gables. Her money is running out, and she’s forced to open a cent-shop. This is a huge indignity to her, as her family was respectable and she’s used to big money and high class. But, she does it and is quite unsuccessful. Her lack of success isn’t so much due to her abilities as a businesswoman as it is her countenance. That’s right, she’s got such a bad countenance that nobody wants to shop from her:
“We must linger a moment on this unfortunate expression of poor Hepzibah’s brow. Her scowl,—as the world, or such part of it as sometimes caught a transitory glimpse of her at the window, wickedly persisted in calling it,—her scowl had done Miss Hepzibah a very ill office, in establishing her character as an ill-tempered old maid; nor does it appear improbable that, by often gazing at herself in a dim looking-glass, and perpetually encountering her own frown with its ghostly sphere, she had been led to interpret the expression almost as unjustly as the world did. “How miserably cross I look!” she must often have whispered to herself; and ultimately have fancied herself so, by a sense of inevitable doom.”
It’s sad to see because it’s something she can’t control all that much. It’s almost like a stain on her character that she herself didn’t put there. I want to take a moment here to talk about that scowl and the effect it has, because it just might be a very significant symbolization Hawthorne is making.
Like Hepzibah’s scowl, what our ancestors do seems permanent, and—if they’ve done something truly awful—can leave a mark that automatically sets us apart from our society. In Hawthorne’s case, I believe he saw himself this way. Due to the unapologetic brutality of his Puritan ancestors, it is very possible he felt that others saw him differently for what they had done, for who he was connected to. Hawthorne, like Hepzibah, didn’t do anything to warrant this opinion, yet it was placed by some immovable feature. Hepzibah’s scowl is often a point of conflict in the story, as many turn from interacting with her because they fear the temper that may come with such a look. Hawthorne concludes his initial comments on Hepzibah’s scowl with:
“But her heart never frowned. It was naturally tender, sensitive, and full of little tremors and palpitations; all of which weaknesses it retained, while her visage was growing so perversely stern, and even fierce. Nor had Hepzibah ever any hardihood, except what came from the very warmest nook in her affections.”
Clifford, Hepzibah’s brother, is also plagued by some immovable object, this being the accused murder of his uncle. He didn’t, of course, murder his uncle, but served the sentence for doing it. This stain has been on him all of his life, and he lives as one in a shell, forever encased in something he didn’t do. That’s quickly becoming a reoccurring theme. He appears quite suddenly a little after Phoebe comes to stay at the house. Hepzibah, knowing all about his struggle, receives him warmly and does all she can for him. But even her care—which is almost obsessive—can't really help Clifford in the way he needs. Hawthorne says several times that Clifford is a “lover of the beautiful.”
“It was perceptible, even there, in the dark old parlor, in the inevitable polarity with which his eyes were attracted towards the quivering play of sunbeams through the shadowy foliage. It was seen in his appreciating notice of the vase of flowers, the scent of which he inhaled with a zest almost peculiar to a physical organization so refined that spiritual ingredients are moulded in with it. It was betrayed in the unconscious smile with which he regarded Phœbe, whose fresh and maidenly figure was both sunshine and flowers,—their essence, in a prettier and more agreeable mode of manifestation.”
This is, of course, somewhat difficult for Hepzibah, as she—being much more similar to Clifford’s own shadows and demons—is not the remedial sunshine Phoebe is. This is a strange way to describe someone, as I should think everyone likes beautiful things. But Hawthorne sticks to it and creates a very unique picture of Clifford. He seems a man so opposite to all that he values, yet happiest when it surrounds him.
Phoebe is the exception among them. She alone seems to bear no burden apart from the freedom and beauty of youth. She comes to stay with Hepzibah and Clifford for a time, and her presence alone seems to drive away the dust, despair, and lack of color from the house. I don’t know that the book ever says why Phoebe comes to stay with them, but her being with them is very central to their eventual healing. She doesn’t have as much character as the others, however. She seems mostly to be a flower, encouraging to everyone but facing very few difficulties herself apart from living with two very disgruntled old people. She is, however, a somewhat different look at the Pyncheon family. Where Clifford and Hepzibah are seemingly destroyed by their ancestry, Phoebe feels nothing. She doesn’t consider the past much and remains positive even when she does. It doesn’t hang over her as it does them. Hawthorne may be making a point here about the right to innocence we have toward our ancestors’ actions. Phoebe did none of the things her ancestors did, therefore, why shouldn’t she be happy? She shouldn’t have to suffer because they killed people. If the world worked this way, everyone—and I mean everyone—would be crushed under the weight of some atrocity down the line.
These characters, when taken together, are each important aspects of Hawthorne. Like Hepzibah and Clifford, he feels the weight of his ancestry as if he himself wore the permanent scowl or was framed for his ancestors deeds. Yet there is also a bit of Pheobe in him, something that is light and able to put away the obsessions of the past and focus on the present. Whether he meant to write himself into the story this way or not, I'm not for certain. But either way, I can't deny that their traits are too similar to his own struggles and beliefs to pass by.
Grace for Ancestry
Another central character—the crux of both Hepzibah and Clifford’s suffering—is Judge Pyncheon, their cousin. It was he who murdered Clifford’s uncle and framed him, and he is the reason Hepzibah’s funds are failing. He is connected very closely to the Pyncheon family ancestry in a different way, particularly an old portrait of Colonel Pyncheon, the initial master of the house. He bears an almost identical resemblance to the portrait, which is not altogether a good thing.
“The other adornment was the portrait of old Colonel Pyncheon, at two thirds length, representing the stern features of a Puritanic-looking personage, in a skull-cap, with a laced band and a grizzly beard; holding a Bible with one hand, and in the other uplifting an iron sword-hilt. The latter object, being more successfully depicted by the artist, stood out in far greater prominence than the sacred volume.”
This tells a lot of how Hawthorne wants us to see both the Colonel and the Judge. The Colonel holds a bible in his hand, claiming to be of good morality and character. This is something the Judge also does. Later on, it’s stated that he’s involved in many charities and good things throughout the town, yet, all we see are his evil deeds. Therefore, like the Colonel, his evil deeds are painted with “far greater prominence.” This is the Puritan hypocrisy Hawthorne so despised, holding a bible in one hand and smiting down the innocent with the other.
With more backstory than all of the characters put together, the house itself is possibly the most important character. The entire first chapter Hawthorne dedicates to the house, explaining when and by whom it was built, how it traded owners, and who lived in it up until the time of the story. And this isn’t just for world-building purposes. You see, the house was acquired unlawfully by Colonel Pyncheon, who stole it from one Matthew Maule, who he accused of wizardry and sentenced to death. Matthew, before being executed, said “God will give him blood to drink!” The Colonel thought little of it at the time, but, later came to a very sudden end in a fashion similar to that which Maule had predicted:
“The company, tremulous as the leaves of a tree, when all are shaking together, drew nearer, and perceived that there was an unnatural distortion in the fixedness of Colonel Pyncheon’s stare; that there was blood on his ruff, and that his hoary beard was saturated with it. It was too late to give assistance. The iron-hearted Puritan, the relentless persecutor, the grasping and strong-willed man was dead!”
This is a very important detail, as Judge Pyncheon—the Colonel’s replica—meets an identical end: seated in the exact same chair beneath the exact same portrait of the Colonel, with blood dripping down his beard and shirt. It is explained toward the end that a perfectly natural cause of death was given—possibly something hereditary—but Hawthorne’s connection to the two characters is very intentional. The Judge cheated Clifford out of his inheritance and placed the blame of murder on him, just as the Colonel had done to Maule. And both were rewarded equally.
Remember how I said Hawthorne looks at history with a sympathetic eye, trying to understand his flawed ancestors? Right now it doesn’t feel like he’s doing that, does it? It feels more like he's writing spiteful revenge. But, there is a strange moment in the book, one I don’t fully understand, that makes me question whether or not Hawthorne gives these characters redemption—however slight.
As the Judge is dying, there comes a scene of the entire Pyncheon ancestry (or those that lived in the house) in the form of ghosts. Whether this actually happens in the story or is just Hawthorne being playful, I’m not certain. They all come to see the painting of the Colonel, and each has some kind of fascination with it. The Colonel himself actually shows up. And strangely enough, rather than nodding approvingly that his portrait has been kept up, he shows great dissatisfaction in it. Hawthorne never gives a reason why, which allows us to consider some possibilities. One reason I entertain is that having died he realizes his faults and regrets what he did. Furthermore, he regrets that his descendants hold him in a place of respect. This is a very interesting inclusion, and—to my understanding—might be Hawthorne’s way of saying that these people were still human. After all they’d done, they most likely realized at one point or another that they had messed up. And while it was too late now, they regretted their actions. It’s a strange sort of grace he gives them, but one that I think should be weaved more into modern literature. It seems like everyone wants simply to degrade those they don’t like or who wronged them rather than try to see them as people. Another interesting moment in this scene is that Maule’s son, also named Matthew, appears alongside the ghosts. He laughs and mocks the rest, however, as if he sees that their regret is now worthless. Like I said, it’s strange, and I don’t fully understand what Hawthorne was trying to say with it.
Moving Forward
There is another scene I want to talk about, which takes up a full chapter. It’s toward the end, when Clifford and Hepzibah run away quite suddenly and board a train. Clifford, normally sullen and more dead-looking than alive, comes to an energetic conclusion that he must leave the old house. That both he and Hepzibah will only find peace and happiness away from it. Hawthorne has made it clear by this time that he means the house to be the image of Pyncheon ancestry, the collection of both their sins and legacy. By leaving it, Clifford and Hepzibah are able to find freedom and shake off the dreary history within the walls, one of which was the Colonel’s painting. It kind of reminds me of Hawthorne’s own separation from his line. By leaving it completely, he might have felt freedom and peace. This would point toward a sort of complete dejection of history, which I don’t believe is what Hawthorne wanted to do. Clifford and Hepzibah eventually return after wandering for several days. They return shortly after the Judge’s death and are much changed. Both have awakened, so to speak, and experience joy and lightness in a new way. But they do return to the house. Likewise, I think Hawthorne understood that he couldn’t and shouldn’t fully reject history nor his ancestry. He denounced it, that much is obvious, but he also preserved it. He didn’t bury it or run from it, but wrote two books on it that have done much to both preserve knowledge of Puritanism as well as his relation to it. If someone wanted to destroy the past, I don’t think this is how they would attempt it.
There is one last character I want to discuss. He’s somewhat less significant, and for me felt a little pushed. This character is Holgrave, who happens to be a descendant of Maule’s. That may be one of the most significant pieces of his character, seeing as he and Phoebe wind up together. This presents another interesting picture of Hawthorne’s perception of the past. Holgrave and Phoebe, whose ancestors were enemies, ended up together. This could signify further that Hawthorne believed in moving on from the past, that ancestral sins don’t dictate our lives and the way we see others. That, simply because Holgrave was descended from Maule, didn’t mean he should hate the Pyncheons. Likewise, Phoebe didn’t look down on Holgrave as her ancestors would have.
Also, Holgrave’s ancestor, Matthew Maule II, had a situation similar to one between Holgrave and Phoebe’s. He took advantage of a girl very similar to Phoebe in that she was pure and innocent, a ray of sunshine. But because she was a Pyncheon, Matthew Maule II took his revenge out on her, condemning her to a life alone and under his control. The means of his doing this are a little strange, and seem to be some kind of hypnotism. I understand how that could be mistaken for wizardry. Apparently, Holgrave has the same ability and accidentally uses it on Phoebe while reading to her. He is placed in a situation similar to his ancestor, one where he could take advantage of the young and innocent girl. But instead, he gently wakes her and tells her what happened. Holgrave knew about his ancestor’s ability and knew the story of his twisted manipulation. But he learned from it, and treated Phoebe with dignity and respect. This is another reason I believe Hawthorne chooses to preserve history rather than destroy it. We can learn a whole lot if we preserve history as it was.
Conclusion
All in all, the book is a strange mixture of historical and supernatural fiction. Also, it’s a romance I guess, although that part of it seemed a little extra to me. I think there are a lot of gems hidden within, bits of wisdom Hawthorne wanted to share with the world that we now have the opportunity to read and apply. Hawthorne's mature reception of ancestry and history is something I believe the world needs right now, as so often the past is being threatened with an eraser. It's important to remember both the good and the bad, so we can learn and move forward rather than repeat mistakes.
The book is certainly difficult to read (not because of material, but due to writing style), Hawthorne never was one to get straight to the point. There were many times where I found my mind wandering as he persisted for pages in describing something. During the Judge’s death scene, for example, there’s a whole chapter (16 pages no less) where he's sitting in a chair. I think he’s dead the whole time, but Hawthorne writes as if he might be alive, really dragging out every detail. Those parts were definitely difficult to get by. But all in all, it’s a great book, one I am glad I stuck with. To anyone who enjoyed The Scarlet Letter, or is looking for a good classic read, I highly suggest The House of the Seven Gables.
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