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袛芯屑 褋 褋械屑褜褞 褕锌懈谢褟屑懈
袧邪褌邪薪懈褝谢褜 袚芯褌芯褉薪 - 泻谢邪褋褋懈泻 邪屑械褉懈泻邪薪褋泻芯泄 谢懈褌械褉邪褌褍褉褘. 袝谐芯 锌褉芯懈蟹胁械写械薪懈褟 芯褌谢懈褔邪械褌 褌械褋薪邪褟 胁蟹邪懈屑芯褋胁褟蟹褜 锌褉芯褕谢芯谐芯 懈 薪邪褋褌芯褟褖械谐芯, 褉械邪谢褜薪芯褋褌懈 懈 褎邪薪褌邪褋褌懈泻懈. 袩芯 锌褉懈蟹薪邪薪懈褞 泻褉懈褌懈泻芯胁, 袚芯褌芯褉薪 懈屑械械褌 屑薪芯谐芯 芯斜褖械谐芯 褋 协写邪谐芯褉芯屑 袩芯.
"袛芯屑 褋 褋械屑褜褞 褕锌懈谢褟屑懈" - 芯写懈薪 懈蟹 褋邪屑褘褏 懈蟹胁械褋褌薪褘褏 褉芯屑邪薪芯胁 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟. 小褌邪褉褘泄 锌芯谢泻芯胁薪懈泻 袩懈薪褔芯薪, 锌褉懈斜褘胁褕懈泄 胁 袧芯胁褍褞 袗薪谐谢懈褞 胁屑械褋褌械 褋 锌械褉胁褘屑懈 锌芯褋械谢械薪褑邪屑懈, 薪械褋锌褉邪胁械写谢懈胁芯 芯斜胁懈薪褟械褌 锌谢芯褌薪懈泻邪 袦芯褍谢邪, 褔褌芯斜褘 蟹邪锌芯谢褍褔懈褌褜 械谐芯 蟹械屑谢褞. 袦芯褍谢邪 胁械写褍褌 薪邪 褝褕邪褎芯褌, 薪芯 锌械褉械写 褋屑械褉褌褜褞 芯薪 锌褉芯泻谢懈薪邪械褌 褋胁芯械谐芯 褍斜懈泄褑褍. 小 褌械褏 锌芯褉 薪邪写 写芯屑芯屑 锌芯谢泻芯胁薪懈泻邪 褌褟谐芯褌械械褌 锌褉芯泻谢褟褌懈械.
"袛芯屑 褋 褋械屑褜褞 褕锌懈谢褟屑懈" - 芯写懈薪 懈蟹 褋邪屑褘褏 懈蟹胁械褋褌薪褘褏 褉芯屑邪薪芯胁 锌懈褋邪褌械谢褟. 小褌邪褉褘泄 锌芯谢泻芯胁薪懈泻 袩懈薪褔芯薪, 锌褉懈斜褘胁褕懈泄 胁 袧芯胁褍褞 袗薪谐谢懈褞 胁屑械褋褌械 褋 锌械褉胁褘屑懈 锌芯褋械谢械薪褑邪屑懈, 薪械褋锌褉邪胁械写谢懈胁芯 芯斜胁懈薪褟械褌 锌谢芯褌薪懈泻邪 袦芯褍谢邪, 褔褌芯斜褘 蟹邪锌芯谢褍褔懈褌褜 械谐芯 蟹械屑谢褞. 袦芯褍谢邪 胁械写褍褌 薪邪 褝褕邪褎芯褌, 薪芯 锌械褉械写 褋屑械褉褌褜褞 芯薪 锌褉芯泻谢懈薪邪械褌 褋胁芯械谐芯 褍斜懈泄褑褍. 小 褌械褏 锌芯褉 薪邪写 写芯屑芯屑 锌芯谢泻芯胁薪懈泻邪 褌褟谐芯褌械械褌 锌褉芯泻谢褟褌懈械.
320 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1851
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37896 people want to read
About the author
Nathaniel Hawthorne
4,805听books3,395听followersNathaniel Hawthorne was a 19th century American novelist and short story writer. He is seen as a key figure in the development of American literature for his tales of the nation's colonial history.
Shortly after graduating from Bowdoin College, Hathorne changed his name to Hawthorne. Hawthorne anonymously published his first work, a novel titled Fanshawe, in 1828. In 1837, he published Twice-Told Tales and became engaged to painter and illustrator Sophia Peabody the next year. He worked at a Custom House and joined a Transcendentalist Utopian community, before marrying Peabody in 1842. The couple moved to The Old Manse in Concord, Massachusetts, later moving to Salem, the Berkshires, then to The Wayside in Concord. The Scarlet Letter was published in 1850, followed by a succession of other novels. A political appointment took Hawthorne and family to Europe before returning to The Wayside in 1860. Hawthorne died on May 19, 1864, leaving behind his wife and their three children.
Much of Hawthorne's writing centers around New England and many feature moral allegories with a Puritan inspiration. His work is considered part of the Romantic movement and includes novels, short stories, and a biography of his friend, the United States President Franklin Pierce.
Shortly after graduating from Bowdoin College, Hathorne changed his name to Hawthorne. Hawthorne anonymously published his first work, a novel titled Fanshawe, in 1828. In 1837, he published Twice-Told Tales and became engaged to painter and illustrator Sophia Peabody the next year. He worked at a Custom House and joined a Transcendentalist Utopian community, before marrying Peabody in 1842. The couple moved to The Old Manse in Concord, Massachusetts, later moving to Salem, the Berkshires, then to The Wayside in Concord. The Scarlet Letter was published in 1850, followed by a succession of other novels. A political appointment took Hawthorne and family to Europe before returning to The Wayside in 1860. Hawthorne died on May 19, 1864, leaving behind his wife and their three children.
Much of Hawthorne's writing centers around New England and many feature moral allegories with a Puritan inspiration. His work is considered part of the Romantic movement and includes novels, short stories, and a biography of his friend, the United States President Franklin Pierce.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,161 reviews
December 30, 2020
HAWTHORNE: Look at this old house. *whispers conspiratorially* It鈥檚 very scary.
ME: Ooh, why?
HAWTHORNE: What?
ME: Why is it scary?
HAWTHORNE, confused: Well, it鈥檚 -- I mean, it鈥檚 old, see?
ME: Yes, but why is it scary?
HAWTHORNE: It鈥檚 cursed!
ME: How?
HAWTHORNE, getting impatient: It just is, okay? There was this patriarch of this clan, see, and he got the deed for this land dishonestly, see, and now all his descendants are cursed, see.
ME: Cool, but how are they cursed?
HAWTHORNE, visibly upset: They can never feel joy!
ME: But -- but isn鈥檛 that because they literally never step outside?
HAWTHORNE, frantically: The windows admit no light!
ME: Yeah, but isn鈥檛 that because the shutters are always closed?
HAWTHORNE: THE HOUSE IS SO THREATENING OH THE HORROR
ME: But couldn鈥檛 they just --
HAWTHORNE: IT鈥橲! DUSTY!
ME: But --
HAWTHORNE: *pterodactyl screeching*
ME: Okay, okay, calm down. Show me the rest.
HAWTHORNE, settling: Thank you. This is Hepzibah. She has a turban and an unfortunate face.
ME, blinking: Wow, that鈥檚 --
HEPZIBAH: Woe to me! *gives a kid too much gingerbread*
HAWTHORNE: This is Phoebe. She鈥檚 wholesome.
PHOEBE, smiling brightly: Hi!
HAWTHORNE, as an afterthought: She鈥檚 also virginal.
ME: Wait, what? How does that --
HAWTHORNE: She鈥檚 wholesome because she鈥檚 virginal. Try to keep up.
ME: I don鈥檛 think --
HAWTHORNE: Hush. This is Clifford. He鈥檚 old and sensitive and delightful and quite possibly a serial killer.
ME: What?!
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HAWTHORNE: Life should only ever be gentle and kind to him! His way should be easy and perfumed with roses! Pity him, dear reader!
ME: Why on earth --
HAWTHORNE: Women aren鈥檛 as beautiful as he needs them to be. Plus a monkey looked at him once and it was a really ugly monkey and that was just really traumatizing for him.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: Also he kinda-sorta ogles his teenaged caregiver.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: But, like, in a chaste way.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: Little girls find him attractive.
ME, in a dangerously low voice: They do not.
HAWTHORNE, hurriedly: Anyway this is Holgrave. He鈥檚 pretty useless but he thinks he鈥檚 a thinker.
A PICTURE, randomly: THEY SAY I DID SOMETHING BAD!!!
ME, disoriented: Um, hello . . . ?
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HEPZIBAH: *cries in the background*
HOLGRAVE: Did you know that men can control women through hypnosis because women are virgins and have weaker spirits than men do?
ME:
ME:
ME to myself: Somebody's gonna end this man鈥檚 whole career.
HAWTHORNE, loudly: And here鈥檚 Judge Pyncheon. He鈥檚 a really upstanding old man except that he might be Satan. *shrugs* Idk. That鈥檚 none of my business.
PHOEBE: I鈥檓 gonna go visit my real family. Peace.
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HEPZIBAH: *sniffles*
PYNCHEON: I scowl. *scowls*
CLIFFORD: Hepzibah! Let鈥檚 go on a train ride!
HEPZIBAH: Wait, why?
CLIFFORD: No reason! Absolutely no reason at all! Also maybe peek in the parlor on your way out.
PHOEBE: I鈥檓 back!
HOLGRAVE: In moments of emergency, I try to remain calm and follow my first instinct, which is to draw a picture. Anyway here鈥檚 a dead body and I love you.
HAWTHORNE: It鈥檚 true love, don鈥檛 question it, the old geezer had it coming, they all move to his house in the country to more effectively spit on his memory and dance on his grave, aaAAAND SCENE! *takes a bow*
ME, screaming: HAWTHORNE WTF
ME: Ooh, why?
HAWTHORNE: What?
ME: Why is it scary?
HAWTHORNE, confused: Well, it鈥檚 -- I mean, it鈥檚 old, see?
ME: Yes, but why is it scary?
HAWTHORNE: It鈥檚 cursed!
ME: How?
HAWTHORNE, getting impatient: It just is, okay? There was this patriarch of this clan, see, and he got the deed for this land dishonestly, see, and now all his descendants are cursed, see.
ME: Cool, but how are they cursed?
HAWTHORNE, visibly upset: They can never feel joy!
ME: But -- but isn鈥檛 that because they literally never step outside?
HAWTHORNE, frantically: The windows admit no light!
ME: Yeah, but isn鈥檛 that because the shutters are always closed?
HAWTHORNE: THE HOUSE IS SO THREATENING OH THE HORROR
ME: But couldn鈥檛 they just --
HAWTHORNE: IT鈥橲! DUSTY!
ME: But --
HAWTHORNE: *pterodactyl screeching*
ME: Okay, okay, calm down. Show me the rest.
HAWTHORNE, settling: Thank you. This is Hepzibah. She has a turban and an unfortunate face.
ME, blinking: Wow, that鈥檚 --
HEPZIBAH: Woe to me! *gives a kid too much gingerbread*
HAWTHORNE: This is Phoebe. She鈥檚 wholesome.
PHOEBE, smiling brightly: Hi!
HAWTHORNE, as an afterthought: She鈥檚 also virginal.
ME: Wait, what? How does that --
HAWTHORNE: She鈥檚 wholesome because she鈥檚 virginal. Try to keep up.
ME: I don鈥檛 think --
HAWTHORNE: Hush. This is Clifford. He鈥檚 old and sensitive and delightful and quite possibly a serial killer.
ME: What?!
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HAWTHORNE: Life should only ever be gentle and kind to him! His way should be easy and perfumed with roses! Pity him, dear reader!
ME: Why on earth --
HAWTHORNE: Women aren鈥檛 as beautiful as he needs them to be. Plus a monkey looked at him once and it was a really ugly monkey and that was just really traumatizing for him.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: Also he kinda-sorta ogles his teenaged caregiver.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: But, like, in a chaste way.
ME:
HAWTHORNE:
ME:
HAWTHORNE: Little girls find him attractive.
ME, in a dangerously low voice: They do not.
HAWTHORNE, hurriedly: Anyway this is Holgrave. He鈥檚 pretty useless but he thinks he鈥檚 a thinker.
A PICTURE, randomly: THEY SAY I DID SOMETHING BAD!!!
ME, disoriented: Um, hello . . . ?
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HEPZIBAH: *cries in the background*
HOLGRAVE: Did you know that men can control women through hypnosis because women are virgins and have weaker spirits than men do?
ME:
ME:
ME to myself: Somebody's gonna end this man鈥檚 whole career.
HAWTHORNE, loudly: And here鈥檚 Judge Pyncheon. He鈥檚 a really upstanding old man except that he might be Satan. *shrugs* Idk. That鈥檚 none of my business.
PHOEBE: I鈥檓 gonna go visit my real family. Peace.
CLIFFORD: *whines indistinctly*
HEPZIBAH: *sniffles*
PYNCHEON: I scowl. *scowls*
CLIFFORD: Hepzibah! Let鈥檚 go on a train ride!
HEPZIBAH: Wait, why?
CLIFFORD: No reason! Absolutely no reason at all! Also maybe peek in the parlor on your way out.
PHOEBE: I鈥檓 back!
HOLGRAVE: In moments of emergency, I try to remain calm and follow my first instinct, which is to draw a picture. Anyway here鈥檚 a dead body and I love you.
HAWTHORNE: It鈥檚 true love, don鈥檛 question it, the old geezer had it coming, they all move to his house in the country to more effectively spit on his memory and dance on his grave, aaAAAND SCENE! *takes a bow*
ME, screaming: HAWTHORNE WTF
August 17, 2009
OHMYFREAKIN'GAWD.
Why the hell did I pick this up again? Life's too short, you say? You have 200+ other books on your 'to read' shelf and this was sucking your will to read? Give it up! You're right... all of it... and my answer is... my excuse being... because I'm freakin' stubborn. Its Hawthorne . I mean how much more New Englandy can you get? I couldn't just--- give up... I'd be betraying my countryman...
Whatever.
For a few years, in my younger days, I worked down the street from the House of the Seven Gables and I'd always get this literary stab of guilt for not having read it. I'd never fully look it in the eye, feeling the shame wash over me. Its judgmental gables peeking out at me while I'd sit by the lighthouse eating lunch. I want it all back. All those years of remorse. I could definitely put it to better use.
And you know what? It's not such a bad story, really. It's got murder, witchcraft, a creepy house, a curse, a spinster and her childlike convict brother, some mystery hottie and a fair maiden. You throw in an organ grinder and some insolent chickens and you've got the making of a great short story.
See there? What I did? I said 'short story.' But what Hawthorne does, and what irritates the fuck out of me, is draw out the narrative and then... draw it out some more. It gets to the point where you (read: me) throw the damn book down, cursing and feeling like you've just been scolded by your high school english teacher for not appreciating its nuances.
Ugh. Double frickin' UGH.
Example: Do I really need 8 pages describing the gardens? Or does he really feel he's being clever when he writes 18 pages playing out the death of one of the characters? (oops---spoiler---my bad) I get it...ha ha... yer just full o' wit there, Nate.
I will say that there was one little salacious scene that had me all a twitter and thinking that I might see some girl on old decrepit man action:
"On Clifford's part it was the feeling of a man naturally endowed with the liveliest sensibility to feminine influence, but who had never quaffed the cup of passionate love, and knew that it was now too late. He knew it, with the instinctive delicacy that had survived his intellectual decay. Thus, his sentiment for Phoebe, without being paternal, was not less chaste than if she had been his daughter. He was a man, it is true, and recognized her as a woman. She was his only representative of womankind. He took unfailing note of every charm that appertained to her sex, and saw the ripeness of her lips, and the virginal development of her bosom. All her little womanly ways, budding out of her like blossoms on a young fruit tree, had their effect on him, and sometimes cause his very heart to tingle with the keenest thrills of pleasure."
I think Nate was dipping into Fanny Hill hoping to quaff his own cup a bit... but, I was bored and of course picked up on this.
Maybe I've just read too much. Maybe I'm just expecting too much. I've said before, I grew up on Hungry Mans and the advent of the remote control. Don't pussy foot around. Give me what I want and give it to me now. Okay?
Why the hell did I pick this up again? Life's too short, you say? You have 200+ other books on your 'to read' shelf and this was sucking your will to read? Give it up! You're right... all of it... and my answer is... my excuse being... because I'm freakin' stubborn. Its Hawthorne . I mean how much more New Englandy can you get? I couldn't just--- give up... I'd be betraying my countryman...
Whatever.
For a few years, in my younger days, I worked down the street from the House of the Seven Gables and I'd always get this literary stab of guilt for not having read it. I'd never fully look it in the eye, feeling the shame wash over me. Its judgmental gables peeking out at me while I'd sit by the lighthouse eating lunch. I want it all back. All those years of remorse. I could definitely put it to better use.
And you know what? It's not such a bad story, really. It's got murder, witchcraft, a creepy house, a curse, a spinster and her childlike convict brother, some mystery hottie and a fair maiden. You throw in an organ grinder and some insolent chickens and you've got the making of a great short story.
See there? What I did? I said 'short story.' But what Hawthorne does, and what irritates the fuck out of me, is draw out the narrative and then... draw it out some more. It gets to the point where you (read: me) throw the damn book down, cursing and feeling like you've just been scolded by your high school english teacher for not appreciating its nuances.
Ugh. Double frickin' UGH.
Example: Do I really need 8 pages describing the gardens? Or does he really feel he's being clever when he writes 18 pages playing out the death of one of the characters? (oops---spoiler---my bad) I get it...ha ha... yer just full o' wit there, Nate.
I will say that there was one little salacious scene that had me all a twitter and thinking that I might see some girl on old decrepit man action:
"On Clifford's part it was the feeling of a man naturally endowed with the liveliest sensibility to feminine influence, but who had never quaffed the cup of passionate love, and knew that it was now too late. He knew it, with the instinctive delicacy that had survived his intellectual decay. Thus, his sentiment for Phoebe, without being paternal, was not less chaste than if she had been his daughter. He was a man, it is true, and recognized her as a woman. She was his only representative of womankind. He took unfailing note of every charm that appertained to her sex, and saw the ripeness of her lips, and the virginal development of her bosom. All her little womanly ways, budding out of her like blossoms on a young fruit tree, had their effect on him, and sometimes cause his very heart to tingle with the keenest thrills of pleasure."
I think Nate was dipping into Fanny Hill hoping to quaff his own cup a bit... but, I was bored and of course picked up on this.
Maybe I've just read too much. Maybe I'm just expecting too much. I've said before, I grew up on Hungry Mans and the advent of the remote control. Don't pussy foot around. Give me what I want and give it to me now. Okay?
May 1, 2022
I actually enjoyed this one. Nathaniel Hawthorne has a unique way of writing and I think it he's hit or miss. For instance I didn't care for 'The Scarlett Letter' but I really liked 'Young Goodman Brown'. This story explored themes of guilt and generational sin. I felt all the characters had connectedness yet they were all trying to either run away from each other and their past sins/guilt.
I enjoyed the darker gothic tone of the story. The dark and shadowy house played a major role and even acted as a character.
"Several days had passed over the seven gables, heavily and drearily enough. In fact, an easterly storm had set in, and indefatigably applied itself to the task of making the black roof and walls of the old house look more cheerless than ever before." pg. 192
The backstory of Salem witchcraft, a curse, and the mysterious deaths gave subtle elements of the supernatural. The descriptive imagery helped carry the story.
"the quiver of the moonbeams; they dance hand-in-hand with the shadows..." pg. 241
Overall in enjoyed this story. The reading sometimes was tedious and slow but helped with the overall story. I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys a good story. Thanks!
I enjoyed the darker gothic tone of the story. The dark and shadowy house played a major role and even acted as a character.
"Several days had passed over the seven gables, heavily and drearily enough. In fact, an easterly storm had set in, and indefatigably applied itself to the task of making the black roof and walls of the old house look more cheerless than ever before." pg. 192
The backstory of Salem witchcraft, a curse, and the mysterious deaths gave subtle elements of the supernatural. The descriptive imagery helped carry the story.
"the quiver of the moonbeams; they dance hand-in-hand with the shadows..." pg. 241
Overall in enjoyed this story. The reading sometimes was tedious and slow but helped with the overall story. I would recommend this to anyone who enjoys a good story. Thanks!
October 10, 2024
The illustrious Pyncheon family had quite a useful reign, (but that was long ago) its founder Col. Pyncheon a stout, merciless Puritan and able soldier, helped wipe out the scourge the evil threat of the abominable witches, in the honorable Salem trials of 1692. For his just reward he happened by pure accident, to take over the property of old Matthew Maule. Still a splendid , beautiful area the perfect place to set his building the magnificent Seven Gables,
the Colonel's new mansion for his noble efforts .The wicked Wizard Maule , met his proper end at Gallows Hill. Things do not stay the same unfortunately, the family and House of the Seven Gables have seen better days... In fact truthfully at one time few would argue against it being ranked among the best edifices in colonial Massachusetts. That was more than 150 years ago this building, shall we reiterate is a little run down ( a dump in reality). Hepzibah Pyncheon, an "old maid", with nevertheless a wonderful name is now all alone, the only exception a young boarder, Mr. Holgrave. A daguerreotypist, as a resident the poor Hepzibah has to open a cent store, also to make a living what a humiliating situation for an upper class woman, from a formerly prominent family. Also visiting a relative Phoebe Pyncheon, a penniless country cousin with all that implies, the girl has no idea why the brother of Miss Pyncheon, Clifford returns home after 30 years, was it for some crime ? Nobody is talking and the 17- year- old- girl doesn't ask too many questions, she is a guest after all and very grateful. Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon, a rich distinguished man once a member of Congress and his son traveling around Europe somewhere, are the last male Pyncheons, not counting the unfortunate and sick Clifford, nobody does. People stay away from the strange house rumors about ghosts and unexplained deaths, are a constant source of gossip for the dull town. The bored Clifford likes to blow soap bubbles from the second story of the mansion, one hits his haughty cousin the distinguished gentleman on the nose. The prosperous relative now has an excuse to visit, wanting to talk to Clifford, about a vague proposition but the nervous ex-inmate, blames the aloof magistrate for his troubles refuses. A dark , strange thick atmosphere engulfs the premises, the ancient crumbling House of the Seven Gables, will some sunshine ever brighten it ? A classic novel not as exciting as when it was first published, yet worth reading still. Over a century and a half after being first written, many events have shocked the world making this rather mild in comparison. Did Hawthorne's, ( author of The Scarlet Letter, a monumental work) evil ancestors involvement in the notorious Salem kangaroo trials, gullible adults fooled by emotional delusional bad children with no conscious...Did these killings of innocent people, haunt the great author?
the Colonel's new mansion for his noble efforts .The wicked Wizard Maule , met his proper end at Gallows Hill. Things do not stay the same unfortunately, the family and House of the Seven Gables have seen better days... In fact truthfully at one time few would argue against it being ranked among the best edifices in colonial Massachusetts. That was more than 150 years ago this building, shall we reiterate is a little run down ( a dump in reality). Hepzibah Pyncheon, an "old maid", with nevertheless a wonderful name is now all alone, the only exception a young boarder, Mr. Holgrave. A daguerreotypist, as a resident the poor Hepzibah has to open a cent store, also to make a living what a humiliating situation for an upper class woman, from a formerly prominent family. Also visiting a relative Phoebe Pyncheon, a penniless country cousin with all that implies, the girl has no idea why the brother of Miss Pyncheon, Clifford returns home after 30 years, was it for some crime ? Nobody is talking and the 17- year- old- girl doesn't ask too many questions, she is a guest after all and very grateful. Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon, a rich distinguished man once a member of Congress and his son traveling around Europe somewhere, are the last male Pyncheons, not counting the unfortunate and sick Clifford, nobody does. People stay away from the strange house rumors about ghosts and unexplained deaths, are a constant source of gossip for the dull town. The bored Clifford likes to blow soap bubbles from the second story of the mansion, one hits his haughty cousin the distinguished gentleman on the nose. The prosperous relative now has an excuse to visit, wanting to talk to Clifford, about a vague proposition but the nervous ex-inmate, blames the aloof magistrate for his troubles refuses. A dark , strange thick atmosphere engulfs the premises, the ancient crumbling House of the Seven Gables, will some sunshine ever brighten it ? A classic novel not as exciting as when it was first published, yet worth reading still. Over a century and a half after being first written, many events have shocked the world making this rather mild in comparison. Did Hawthorne's, ( author of The Scarlet Letter, a monumental work) evil ancestors involvement in the notorious Salem kangaroo trials, gullible adults fooled by emotional delusional bad children with no conscious...Did these killings of innocent people, haunt the great author?
March 17, 2018
Note, March 17, 2018: I edited this again slightly, just to change the formatting of a long quotation.
Note, May 14, 2016: I edited this review just now to make a slight factual correction.
During the Salem witch hysteria of 1692, when real-life accused witch Sarah Good was about to hanged, she pointed at one of the witch hunters, Rev. Nathaniel Noyes, who was looking on approvingly, and shouted, "I'm no more a witch than you are, and if you murder me, God will give you blood to drink!" (an allusion to Revelation 16:6). Years later, Noyes suffered a throat aneurism, and did die literally drinking his own blood --a fact that wasn't lost on the keepers of New England's traditions.
Nathaniel Hawthorne was born and raised in Salem (and lived there much of his adult life), a descendant of the Judge Hathorne who was one of the judges in the witch trials, and the only one who never repented of it later. (The author added the 'w' to his own name to disassociate himself from the judge, and other ancestors who persecuted Quakers, etc.) His family heritage, and the intellectual debates taking place in the New England of his formative years over the region's inherited Calvinist orthodoxy, prompted him to give a lot of serious attention to questions of predestination, original sin, and inherited guilt. The House of the Seven Gables can be seen as his most direct literary exploration of these themes. It opens with a recap of the scene described above, but with the names (and, in the case of the "witch," the gender) changed; but it then telescopes time, so that Col. Pyncheon dies of a throat aneurism soon afterwards --on the day of the planned house-warming for the great, seven-gabled mansion he's built on the land he railroaded Matthew Maule to execution in order to steal. (That house is a real structure in Salem, and still stands today, though the Pyncheons are fictitious.) Hawthorne then skips down to his own time, while noting that the intervening generations of Pyncheons have shared their ancestor's nasty personality and, often, his mode of death; bloody aneurisms have run in the family. But not all Pyncheons share the family's legacy of greedy selfishness. Clifford, Hephzibah and Phoebe are decent people, despite being Pyncheons, because they've made their own choices in life as to what kind of people they'd become; for them, inheritance wasn't destiny, and therein lies Hawthorne's major point. Like Hawthorne himself --an Arminian Christian who repudiated the moral outrages his family once stood for-- they've exercised their free will to choose good over evil. Not everybody does that; but everybody can do it, and has a moral responsibility to do it, a view totally opposite to both Calvinist predestinarianism and modern chemical/social determinism. In his narrative voice, Hawthorne addresses Judge Pyncheon with the clear language of personal moral responsibility and choice:
"Rise up, thou subtle, worldly, selfish, ironhearted hypocrite, and make thy choice whether still to be subtle, worldly, selfish, ironhearted, and hypocritical, or to tear these sins out of thy nature, though they bring the lifeblood with them! The Avenger is upon thee! Rise up, before it is too late!"
Both of my 欧宝娱乐 friends who've reviewed this novel consider it inferior to The Scarlet Letter. I'll concede that point; its plot doesn't have the dramatic tension of the latter (though it has some). It's not as strong in that regard as the author's less well known novels and , either. But it has its appeal nonetheless; it's perhaps the most Gothic of Hawthorne's novels, and it's message-driven without losing sight of the very real, often poignant human story it's telling.
Hawthorne's ornate 19th-century diction isn't problematic to me, but will be a bane to many modern readers. That's a matter of misguided self-conditioning and prejudice in most cases, though, IMO. Contrary to what many modern readers automatically assume, expanding one's vocabulary and being able to decipher complex sentences doesn't take being born with some kind of genius-level IQ; it only takes patience, application and motivation, and I think the pay-off is worth it.
Note #1: Joseph Schwartz's "Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1804-1864: God and Man in New England," contained in provides an excellent treatment of Hawthorne's often misunderstood religious thought.
Note #2: The 1940 movie adaptation starring Vincent Price as Clifford does not follow the novel very closely (big surprise, coming from Hollywood --NOT!) Among other things, the scriptwriters made Hephzibah his love interest rather than his sister. :-(
Note #3: Though I've read this book at least twice (originally as a teen), I've never read it in the edition above. The one I own and most recently read has no supplementary material except a good short biography of Hawthorne and a brief Forward and Afterword, all by Andre Norton.
Note, May 14, 2016: I edited this review just now to make a slight factual correction.
During the Salem witch hysteria of 1692, when real-life accused witch Sarah Good was about to hanged, she pointed at one of the witch hunters, Rev. Nathaniel Noyes, who was looking on approvingly, and shouted, "I'm no more a witch than you are, and if you murder me, God will give you blood to drink!" (an allusion to Revelation 16:6). Years later, Noyes suffered a throat aneurism, and did die literally drinking his own blood --a fact that wasn't lost on the keepers of New England's traditions.
Nathaniel Hawthorne was born and raised in Salem (and lived there much of his adult life), a descendant of the Judge Hathorne who was one of the judges in the witch trials, and the only one who never repented of it later. (The author added the 'w' to his own name to disassociate himself from the judge, and other ancestors who persecuted Quakers, etc.) His family heritage, and the intellectual debates taking place in the New England of his formative years over the region's inherited Calvinist orthodoxy, prompted him to give a lot of serious attention to questions of predestination, original sin, and inherited guilt. The House of the Seven Gables can be seen as his most direct literary exploration of these themes. It opens with a recap of the scene described above, but with the names (and, in the case of the "witch," the gender) changed; but it then telescopes time, so that Col. Pyncheon dies of a throat aneurism soon afterwards --on the day of the planned house-warming for the great, seven-gabled mansion he's built on the land he railroaded Matthew Maule to execution in order to steal. (That house is a real structure in Salem, and still stands today, though the Pyncheons are fictitious.) Hawthorne then skips down to his own time, while noting that the intervening generations of Pyncheons have shared their ancestor's nasty personality and, often, his mode of death; bloody aneurisms have run in the family. But not all Pyncheons share the family's legacy of greedy selfishness. Clifford, Hephzibah and Phoebe are decent people, despite being Pyncheons, because they've made their own choices in life as to what kind of people they'd become; for them, inheritance wasn't destiny, and therein lies Hawthorne's major point. Like Hawthorne himself --an Arminian Christian who repudiated the moral outrages his family once stood for-- they've exercised their free will to choose good over evil. Not everybody does that; but everybody can do it, and has a moral responsibility to do it, a view totally opposite to both Calvinist predestinarianism and modern chemical/social determinism. In his narrative voice, Hawthorne addresses Judge Pyncheon with the clear language of personal moral responsibility and choice:
"Rise up, thou subtle, worldly, selfish, ironhearted hypocrite, and make thy choice whether still to be subtle, worldly, selfish, ironhearted, and hypocritical, or to tear these sins out of thy nature, though they bring the lifeblood with them! The Avenger is upon thee! Rise up, before it is too late!"
Both of my 欧宝娱乐 friends who've reviewed this novel consider it inferior to The Scarlet Letter. I'll concede that point; its plot doesn't have the dramatic tension of the latter (though it has some). It's not as strong in that regard as the author's less well known novels and , either. But it has its appeal nonetheless; it's perhaps the most Gothic of Hawthorne's novels, and it's message-driven without losing sight of the very real, often poignant human story it's telling.
Hawthorne's ornate 19th-century diction isn't problematic to me, but will be a bane to many modern readers. That's a matter of misguided self-conditioning and prejudice in most cases, though, IMO. Contrary to what many modern readers automatically assume, expanding one's vocabulary and being able to decipher complex sentences doesn't take being born with some kind of genius-level IQ; it only takes patience, application and motivation, and I think the pay-off is worth it.
Note #1: Joseph Schwartz's "Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1804-1864: God and Man in New England," contained in provides an excellent treatment of Hawthorne's often misunderstood religious thought.
Note #2: The 1940 movie adaptation starring Vincent Price as Clifford does not follow the novel very closely (big surprise, coming from Hollywood --NOT!) Among other things, the scriptwriters made Hephzibah his love interest rather than his sister. :-(
Note #3: Though I've read this book at least twice (originally as a teen), I've never read it in the edition above. The one I own and most recently read has no supplementary material except a good short biography of Hawthorne and a brief Forward and Afterword, all by Andre Norton.
February 24, 2021
"Ya en el umbral sintieron 肠贸尘辞 su inexorable garra ca铆a sobre ellos. Porque 驴Qu茅 otra celda m谩s oscura que el propio coraz贸n y qu茅 carcelero m谩s implacable que el yo mismo?"
Descubr铆 a Nathaniel Hawthorne a trav茅s Herman Melville, uno de mis escritores preferidos. Melville y Hawthorne se hicieron grandes amigos a punto tal que Melville le termina dedicando su obra cumbre Moby Dick: "En se帽al de admiraci贸n a un genio este libro est谩 dedicado a Nathaniel Hawthorne." Melville siempre destacaba, un atributo sobresaliente de Hawthorne que seg煤n sus propias palabras "Es la negrura en Hawthorne lo que tanto me atrae y me fascina. Los grandes genios son parte de los tiempos".
Otro gran admirador de la prosa de este autor fue Edgar Allan Poe. En su rese帽a del libro "Cuentos dos veces contados", Poe resalta: "Los rasgos distintivos de Hawthorne son la invenci贸n, la creaci贸n, la imaginaci贸n y la originalidad y Hawthorne es original en todos los sentidos".
Ahora bien, todos estos cumplidos y gestos de admiraci贸n seguramente en el caso de Poe se centran en ese libro que es un volumen de cuentos, mientras que Melville lo hace puntualmente sobre sus novelas. Tal vez el estilo de escritura es lo que atra铆a a Melville, quien en algunas de sus novelas empleaba un estilo similar.
Leer "La casa de los siete tejados" es un libro de lectura lenta. Muy lenta. Hawthorne se toma demasiadas vueltas para explicar una acci贸n o para definir los rasgos de un personaje y esto hace que todo se torne por momentos exasperante, insoportable. Algo parecido me sucedi贸 con "Pierre, o las ambig眉edades", casualmente de Melville.
Dado que poseo por Hawthorne una estima que proviene de ese volumen de cuentos que tambi茅n maravill贸 a Poe, es que intent茅 proseguir de la forma m谩s estoica hasta el final de este libro, escrito en 1851 y que posee todas las caracter铆sticas de la incipiente literatura de Estados Unidos, a comienzos del siglo XIX. Debemos tener en cuenta que estos tres autores que nombro, sumado a otros de la talla de Irving, Tennyson, Longfellow o Emerson son los que se consideran como pioneros de la literatura norteamericana.
La casa de los siete tejados posee algunos destellos del puritanismo que form贸 parte de la vida ancestral de Hawthorne. Recordemos su familia, oriunda de Salem poseen una relaci贸n directa con el puritanismo extremo. Es m谩s, su abuelo John Hathorne (sin la w) hab铆a formado parte de ese tribunal de inquisici贸n que se dedic贸 a juzgar y ejecutar brujas all谩 por el tumultuoso a帽o de 1690.
Pero Hawthorne, escribe esta novela utilizando un recurso que me parece m谩s que interesante: el personaje principal de la novela no es ninguno de los miembros de la familia Pyncheon, sino precisamente La casa de los siete tejados. De la misma manera que lo hiciera Edgar Allan Poe con su cuento "La ca铆da de la casa Usher" o del emblem谩tico caso de "El castillo de Otranto" de Horace Walpole, Hawthorne transforma a la vieja y ruinosa mansi贸n en la estrella del lugar.
Este caser贸n de siete techos, enorme, ominoso y l煤gubre ya desde su fundaci贸n ejerce una opresi贸n extrema en quienes lo habitan. A partir de la muerte del Coronel Pyncheon el mismo d铆a de su inauguraci贸n, todos los descendientes de la familia sentir谩n agobio, desasosiego y asfixia al punto tal que suceder谩n las inevitables desgracias que se narran en la novela.
De todos modos, es important铆simo aclarar que este no es para nada una novela de terror, ni de caracter铆sticas completamente g贸ticas, sino que posee ciertos elementos que el autor utiliza como adornos para sostener andamiaje de narrativo y argumental.
Tan pronto termina la confrontaci贸n entre el supuesto brujo Matthew Maule y el Coronel Pyncheon, la historia avanza para centrarse propiamente en la vida de uno de los descendientes, la solterona Hepzibah Pyncheon junto a otros miembros de la familia como su anciano hermano Clifford Pyncheon, su joven sobrina, Phoebe y otro miembro que tendr谩 importancia en el relato, me refiero al Juez Jarrey Pyncheon.
Hepzibah, una mujer ya entrada en la ancianidad deber谩 afrontar la realidad de una familia venida a menos hasta caer casi en la miseria y para ellos deber谩 afrontar recursos extremos contando con la ayuda de su sobrina, quien aportar谩 algo de frescura ante tanto deterioro y abandono. Suceder谩n cosas que alarmar谩n a los personajes y que formar谩n parte de los 煤ltimos cap铆tulos del libro para llegar a un final un tanto interesante, pero que no levanta el nivel de monoton铆a con el que Hawthorne le imprime a la historia.
El arca铆smo de las frases, las eternas descripciones, la adjetivaci贸n desmesurada y el filosofismo refinado del autor entorpece el normal transcurso de la historia, haciendo que varios lectores desistan de seguir leyendo el libro y lo abandonen.
Yo estuve tentado a hacerlo, pero no soy de abandonar la lectura de un libro y tendr铆a que hacer memoria para recordar cu谩l puede ser ese libro que dej茅 inconcluso, pero debo reconocer que leer 茅ste me demand贸 grandes esfuerzos para no claudicar y es algo que por ejemplo nunca me sucedi贸 leyendo "La letra escarlata", otra de las novelas ic贸nicas de este autor.
Personalmente, creo que lo mejor de Hawthorne est谩 en sus cuentos, algunos de ejecuci贸n perfecta, como el kafkiano "Wakefield", al que considero su mejor cuento o aquellos de tenor fant谩stico, como "La Hija de Rapaccini", "El experimento del Dr. Heidegger" y "La ni帽a de hielo (un milagro infantil), que es bell铆simo.
En el caso de las novelas, creo que los lectores no acostumbrados a este tipo de autores chocar谩n con una barrera. Para libros como este es necesario armarse de paciencia y tiempo ya que como dije, su lectura es lenta, intrincada y puede tornarse aburrida y eso es lo peor que le puede pasar a un lector.
Franz Kafka dijo una vez 鈥淧ienso que s贸lo debemos leer libros de los que muerdan y apu帽alen. Si el libro que estamos leyendo no nos obliga a despertarnos como un pu帽etazo en la cara, 驴para qu茅 molestarnos en leerlo?"
Con "La casa de los siete tejados" la frase de Kafka me vino a la cabeza, pero fiel a mi estilo de no abandonar la lectura del libro no lo hice.
Tal vez por el respeto y aprecio que le tengo al querido Nathaniel Hawthorne.
Descubr铆 a Nathaniel Hawthorne a trav茅s Herman Melville, uno de mis escritores preferidos. Melville y Hawthorne se hicieron grandes amigos a punto tal que Melville le termina dedicando su obra cumbre Moby Dick: "En se帽al de admiraci贸n a un genio este libro est谩 dedicado a Nathaniel Hawthorne." Melville siempre destacaba, un atributo sobresaliente de Hawthorne que seg煤n sus propias palabras "Es la negrura en Hawthorne lo que tanto me atrae y me fascina. Los grandes genios son parte de los tiempos".
Otro gran admirador de la prosa de este autor fue Edgar Allan Poe. En su rese帽a del libro "Cuentos dos veces contados", Poe resalta: "Los rasgos distintivos de Hawthorne son la invenci贸n, la creaci贸n, la imaginaci贸n y la originalidad y Hawthorne es original en todos los sentidos".
Ahora bien, todos estos cumplidos y gestos de admiraci贸n seguramente en el caso de Poe se centran en ese libro que es un volumen de cuentos, mientras que Melville lo hace puntualmente sobre sus novelas. Tal vez el estilo de escritura es lo que atra铆a a Melville, quien en algunas de sus novelas empleaba un estilo similar.
Leer "La casa de los siete tejados" es un libro de lectura lenta. Muy lenta. Hawthorne se toma demasiadas vueltas para explicar una acci贸n o para definir los rasgos de un personaje y esto hace que todo se torne por momentos exasperante, insoportable. Algo parecido me sucedi贸 con "Pierre, o las ambig眉edades", casualmente de Melville.
Dado que poseo por Hawthorne una estima que proviene de ese volumen de cuentos que tambi茅n maravill贸 a Poe, es que intent茅 proseguir de la forma m谩s estoica hasta el final de este libro, escrito en 1851 y que posee todas las caracter铆sticas de la incipiente literatura de Estados Unidos, a comienzos del siglo XIX. Debemos tener en cuenta que estos tres autores que nombro, sumado a otros de la talla de Irving, Tennyson, Longfellow o Emerson son los que se consideran como pioneros de la literatura norteamericana.
La casa de los siete tejados posee algunos destellos del puritanismo que form贸 parte de la vida ancestral de Hawthorne. Recordemos su familia, oriunda de Salem poseen una relaci贸n directa con el puritanismo extremo. Es m谩s, su abuelo John Hathorne (sin la w) hab铆a formado parte de ese tribunal de inquisici贸n que se dedic贸 a juzgar y ejecutar brujas all谩 por el tumultuoso a帽o de 1690.
Pero Hawthorne, escribe esta novela utilizando un recurso que me parece m谩s que interesante: el personaje principal de la novela no es ninguno de los miembros de la familia Pyncheon, sino precisamente La casa de los siete tejados. De la misma manera que lo hiciera Edgar Allan Poe con su cuento "La ca铆da de la casa Usher" o del emblem谩tico caso de "El castillo de Otranto" de Horace Walpole, Hawthorne transforma a la vieja y ruinosa mansi贸n en la estrella del lugar.
Este caser贸n de siete techos, enorme, ominoso y l煤gubre ya desde su fundaci贸n ejerce una opresi贸n extrema en quienes lo habitan. A partir de la muerte del Coronel Pyncheon el mismo d铆a de su inauguraci贸n, todos los descendientes de la familia sentir谩n agobio, desasosiego y asfixia al punto tal que suceder谩n las inevitables desgracias que se narran en la novela.
De todos modos, es important铆simo aclarar que este no es para nada una novela de terror, ni de caracter铆sticas completamente g贸ticas, sino que posee ciertos elementos que el autor utiliza como adornos para sostener andamiaje de narrativo y argumental.
Tan pronto termina la confrontaci贸n entre el supuesto brujo Matthew Maule y el Coronel Pyncheon, la historia avanza para centrarse propiamente en la vida de uno de los descendientes, la solterona Hepzibah Pyncheon junto a otros miembros de la familia como su anciano hermano Clifford Pyncheon, su joven sobrina, Phoebe y otro miembro que tendr谩 importancia en el relato, me refiero al Juez Jarrey Pyncheon.
Hepzibah, una mujer ya entrada en la ancianidad deber谩 afrontar la realidad de una familia venida a menos hasta caer casi en la miseria y para ellos deber谩 afrontar recursos extremos contando con la ayuda de su sobrina, quien aportar谩 algo de frescura ante tanto deterioro y abandono. Suceder谩n cosas que alarmar谩n a los personajes y que formar谩n parte de los 煤ltimos cap铆tulos del libro para llegar a un final un tanto interesante, pero que no levanta el nivel de monoton铆a con el que Hawthorne le imprime a la historia.
El arca铆smo de las frases, las eternas descripciones, la adjetivaci贸n desmesurada y el filosofismo refinado del autor entorpece el normal transcurso de la historia, haciendo que varios lectores desistan de seguir leyendo el libro y lo abandonen.
Yo estuve tentado a hacerlo, pero no soy de abandonar la lectura de un libro y tendr铆a que hacer memoria para recordar cu谩l puede ser ese libro que dej茅 inconcluso, pero debo reconocer que leer 茅ste me demand贸 grandes esfuerzos para no claudicar y es algo que por ejemplo nunca me sucedi贸 leyendo "La letra escarlata", otra de las novelas ic贸nicas de este autor.
Personalmente, creo que lo mejor de Hawthorne est谩 en sus cuentos, algunos de ejecuci贸n perfecta, como el kafkiano "Wakefield", al que considero su mejor cuento o aquellos de tenor fant谩stico, como "La Hija de Rapaccini", "El experimento del Dr. Heidegger" y "La ni帽a de hielo (un milagro infantil), que es bell铆simo.
En el caso de las novelas, creo que los lectores no acostumbrados a este tipo de autores chocar谩n con una barrera. Para libros como este es necesario armarse de paciencia y tiempo ya que como dije, su lectura es lenta, intrincada y puede tornarse aburrida y eso es lo peor que le puede pasar a un lector.
Franz Kafka dijo una vez 鈥淧ienso que s贸lo debemos leer libros de los que muerdan y apu帽alen. Si el libro que estamos leyendo no nos obliga a despertarnos como un pu帽etazo en la cara, 驴para qu茅 molestarnos en leerlo?"
Con "La casa de los siete tejados" la frase de Kafka me vino a la cabeza, pero fiel a mi estilo de no abandonar la lectura del libro no lo hice.
Tal vez por el respeto y aprecio que le tengo al querido Nathaniel Hawthorne.
May 21, 2020
This narrative, published in 1850, starts with a preface by Hawthone explaining his concept of the Romance, which is to be distinguished from the Novel because it provides the writer with greater latitude to takes risks. The Novel is somehow more straightforward, more conservative, less flexible as a vehicle for experimentation.
The first chapter gives us the backstory in a kind of lump sum. Most contemporary novelists probably write such a backstory but often cut it, since, lacking action and character, it can seem too schematic and impersonal. Hawthorne's backstory is perhaps no exception. But, it has the virtue of being 160 years old, and that, combined with its antiquated vocabulary, deftly wielded, combines to hook the reader. The backstory spills all the beans of this fantastic narrative, including the heinous crime, the resulting curse, the astonishing event at the housewarming--and the collective guilt that is said to course through each suceeding generation of the Pyncheon family.
When we reach the action of the present day, it's a particularly low moment in the Pyncheon family's fortunes. Hepzibah, the permanently scowling seemingly sole survivor of the line, is forced to open what was at the time known as a "cent shop" in a corner of the grand though decaying house. There's nerve-wracking suspense here. Hawthorne seems to wring it from every word. His mode of storytelling is simultaneously achingly and beautifully slow. There's one scene, for example, in which he lingers over a simple breakfast. Each item seems lovingly revealed; there's a sumptuousness to the language that seems to belie the meal's simplicity. The gaze throughout smacks of the voyeuristic; as if the dead, who are no longer permitted such pleasures, were narrating.
The narrative is marked by a number of oppositions in terms of imagery: gloom and sunshine, animal and spiritual, age and youth, ugliness and beauty, exhaustion and vitality. Clifford embodies many of these. He is put forth as the spoiled and decadent figure and symbol of the family's fortunes. He is obviously homosexual, something Hawthorne, working in the era he did, could only vaguely touch upon. Yet in the end he is mindful enough to turn this clich茅 on its head. For Clifford, it turns out, is not the "symbol" of the decaying family, but an individual, just one, from whose shoulders at the end of the book all unfair connotation seems justly lifted.
Clifford has an artist's sensibility without the artistry. He is a dilettante. The Daguerrotypist, who lives beneath one of the House's gables, is referred to as "the artist." The contrast is intentional. The fellow with the so-called artistic sensibilities is not an artist at all, but one who makes his living from a simple mechanical process. Clifford, by contrast, lives for beauty. It infuses his every happy moment. Without it he is corpse-like, almost inert.
The first chapter gives us the backstory in a kind of lump sum. Most contemporary novelists probably write such a backstory but often cut it, since, lacking action and character, it can seem too schematic and impersonal. Hawthorne's backstory is perhaps no exception. But, it has the virtue of being 160 years old, and that, combined with its antiquated vocabulary, deftly wielded, combines to hook the reader. The backstory spills all the beans of this fantastic narrative, including the heinous crime, the resulting curse, the astonishing event at the housewarming--and the collective guilt that is said to course through each suceeding generation of the Pyncheon family.
When we reach the action of the present day, it's a particularly low moment in the Pyncheon family's fortunes. Hepzibah, the permanently scowling seemingly sole survivor of the line, is forced to open what was at the time known as a "cent shop" in a corner of the grand though decaying house. There's nerve-wracking suspense here. Hawthorne seems to wring it from every word. His mode of storytelling is simultaneously achingly and beautifully slow. There's one scene, for example, in which he lingers over a simple breakfast. Each item seems lovingly revealed; there's a sumptuousness to the language that seems to belie the meal's simplicity. The gaze throughout smacks of the voyeuristic; as if the dead, who are no longer permitted such pleasures, were narrating.
The narrative is marked by a number of oppositions in terms of imagery: gloom and sunshine, animal and spiritual, age and youth, ugliness and beauty, exhaustion and vitality. Clifford embodies many of these. He is put forth as the spoiled and decadent figure and symbol of the family's fortunes. He is obviously homosexual, something Hawthorne, working in the era he did, could only vaguely touch upon. Yet in the end he is mindful enough to turn this clich茅 on its head. For Clifford, it turns out, is not the "symbol" of the decaying family, but an individual, just one, from whose shoulders at the end of the book all unfair connotation seems justly lifted.
Clifford has an artist's sensibility without the artistry. He is a dilettante. The Daguerrotypist, who lives beneath one of the House's gables, is referred to as "the artist." The contrast is intentional. The fellow with the so-called artistic sensibilities is not an artist at all, but one who makes his living from a simple mechanical process. Clifford, by contrast, lives for beauty. It infuses his every happy moment. Without it he is corpse-like, almost inert.
February 7, 2023
I have read and re-read this many times.
鈥�...the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit, in a far distant time鈥�.
Thus speaks Hawthorne in the course of his book and to a large extent this summarises the theme and plot of the story.
The book is a natural progression from his previous work, The Scarlet Letter, almost an updated (by 150-200 years) sequel to it. Hawthorne began it a mere 6 months after the publication of The Scarlet Letter. Here he shows what happens as the seeds of the Salem type of puritanism germinate throughout the generations, in this case through the Pyncheon family line.
My relationship with this book goes back a very long way. I bought it as a boy in a village jumble sale (do they have such things any more?) determined to read it. Not surprisingly, I struggled, but with the aid of a dictionary and taking it slowly, I managed to read it through. I鈥檝e been hooked on it ever since, returning to it often and to my beloved Nathaniel Hawthorne.
As a boy I could identify with the characters who people the book and especially the reclusive Miss Hepzibah Pyncheon. She was, for me, my widowed grandmother with whom I spent a great deal of time. Like Hepzibah, she had virtually retired from the world, in her case on the early death of my grandfather. She rarely went out of doors. Her arthritis, which had painfully and cruelly deformed her limbs, would have made this difficult anyway. Like Hepzibah too, she could scowl. But as in the case of the former, this was frequently misinterpreted. Both women were short sighted and lovely with it. My grandmother鈥檚 house too, whilst lacking the dimensions of Hepzibah鈥檚, had been the family home for 3 or 4 generations. There was a shop attached to it too where my father plied his trade, the same as his father, grandfather and great grandfather before him. The idea of my grandmother crossing its threshold as Hepzibah did, in order to eke out a living selling a few sweets filled me with horror; not for snobbish reasons, after all we were a family of shopkeepers, but my grandmother was painfully shy.
At the risk of over egging the pudding (no pun intended鈥�.) my grandmother had a large garden, somewhat neglected like Hepzibah鈥檚, and here my father kept a few chickens. The book is altogether very personal for me and I have returned to it, almost my childhood home, many times. I sense it is very autobiographical for Hawthorne too, who as a young man/ adolescent shut himself up in his room for some years, possibly with a guilty secret?
Hawthorne is quite particular in labelling this book a romance, rather than a novel, and this gives him leeway for his mirage style of story telling; so we鈥檙e never quite sure whether what he tells us is sheer fantasy, fact, or a mixture of both. This romance is about sunshine and shadow, sadness and joy, laughter and tears, age and the future. The book will also focus on double standards and false values and justice, which Hawthorne is expert in examining.
Here鈥檚 a taster or two:
鈥淪tay a moment if you please! Said the Judge, again beaming sunshine out of his face...鈥� But appearances can be deceptive as, a page or so later, his expression has momentarily changed: 鈥淭o know Judge Pyncheon was to see him at that moment. After such a revelation, let him smile with what sultriness he would, he could much sooner turn grapes purple or pumpkins yellow, than melt the iron-branded impression out of the beholder鈥檚 memory鈥�.
Hepzibah鈥檚 brother Clifford to his sister - 鈥淲e are ghosts! We have no right amongst human beings 鈥� no right anywhere, but in this old house, which has a curse on it, and which therefore we are doomed to haunt...It is an ugly thought, that I should be frightful to my fellow-beings, and that children would cling to their mother鈥檚 gowns, at sight of me鈥�..鈥�
I spoke of sunshine and shadow. Here, as the book nears its close, an old character, much loved by the Pyncheons, who spoke often of retiring to his 鈥渇arm鈥� (the work house) says:
鈥淏ut I suppose I am like a Roxbury Russet 鈥� a great deal the better, the longer I can be kept鈥�.
I guess this is much too personal to be an objective review but what the Hell! I love this book.
鈥�...the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit, in a far distant time鈥�.
Thus speaks Hawthorne in the course of his book and to a large extent this summarises the theme and plot of the story.
The book is a natural progression from his previous work, The Scarlet Letter, almost an updated (by 150-200 years) sequel to it. Hawthorne began it a mere 6 months after the publication of The Scarlet Letter. Here he shows what happens as the seeds of the Salem type of puritanism germinate throughout the generations, in this case through the Pyncheon family line.
My relationship with this book goes back a very long way. I bought it as a boy in a village jumble sale (do they have such things any more?) determined to read it. Not surprisingly, I struggled, but with the aid of a dictionary and taking it slowly, I managed to read it through. I鈥檝e been hooked on it ever since, returning to it often and to my beloved Nathaniel Hawthorne.
As a boy I could identify with the characters who people the book and especially the reclusive Miss Hepzibah Pyncheon. She was, for me, my widowed grandmother with whom I spent a great deal of time. Like Hepzibah, she had virtually retired from the world, in her case on the early death of my grandfather. She rarely went out of doors. Her arthritis, which had painfully and cruelly deformed her limbs, would have made this difficult anyway. Like Hepzibah too, she could scowl. But as in the case of the former, this was frequently misinterpreted. Both women were short sighted and lovely with it. My grandmother鈥檚 house too, whilst lacking the dimensions of Hepzibah鈥檚, had been the family home for 3 or 4 generations. There was a shop attached to it too where my father plied his trade, the same as his father, grandfather and great grandfather before him. The idea of my grandmother crossing its threshold as Hepzibah did, in order to eke out a living selling a few sweets filled me with horror; not for snobbish reasons, after all we were a family of shopkeepers, but my grandmother was painfully shy.
At the risk of over egging the pudding (no pun intended鈥�.) my grandmother had a large garden, somewhat neglected like Hepzibah鈥檚, and here my father kept a few chickens. The book is altogether very personal for me and I have returned to it, almost my childhood home, many times. I sense it is very autobiographical for Hawthorne too, who as a young man/ adolescent shut himself up in his room for some years, possibly with a guilty secret?
Hawthorne is quite particular in labelling this book a romance, rather than a novel, and this gives him leeway for his mirage style of story telling; so we鈥檙e never quite sure whether what he tells us is sheer fantasy, fact, or a mixture of both. This romance is about sunshine and shadow, sadness and joy, laughter and tears, age and the future. The book will also focus on double standards and false values and justice, which Hawthorne is expert in examining.
Here鈥檚 a taster or two:
鈥淪tay a moment if you please! Said the Judge, again beaming sunshine out of his face...鈥� But appearances can be deceptive as, a page or so later, his expression has momentarily changed: 鈥淭o know Judge Pyncheon was to see him at that moment. After such a revelation, let him smile with what sultriness he would, he could much sooner turn grapes purple or pumpkins yellow, than melt the iron-branded impression out of the beholder鈥檚 memory鈥�.
Hepzibah鈥檚 brother Clifford to his sister - 鈥淲e are ghosts! We have no right amongst human beings 鈥� no right anywhere, but in this old house, which has a curse on it, and which therefore we are doomed to haunt...It is an ugly thought, that I should be frightful to my fellow-beings, and that children would cling to their mother鈥檚 gowns, at sight of me鈥�..鈥�
I spoke of sunshine and shadow. Here, as the book nears its close, an old character, much loved by the Pyncheons, who spoke often of retiring to his 鈥渇arm鈥� (the work house) says:
鈥淏ut I suppose I am like a Roxbury Russet 鈥� a great deal the better, the longer I can be kept鈥�.
I guess this is much too personal to be an objective review but what the Hell! I love this book.
August 21, 2022
The House of the Seven Gables 鈥� located as it is at 115 Derby Street, Salem, Massachusetts 01970 鈥� is today one of the pre-eminent historical attractions of an eminently historic city. Built in 1668, the house, also known as the Turner-Ingersoll mansion, is a treasure of colonial New England architecture. Yet today, the house is best-known for its associations with a masterpiece of Gothic literature 鈥� Nathaniel Hawthorne鈥檚 1851 novel The House of the Seven Gables.
Hawthorne is one of those early American writers who has never lost his relevance or his popularity among readers. In the United States of America, and worldwide, he is known for the way he combined a Romantic sensibility with a rigorous examination of New England鈥檚 often difficult history. As he cited his work in Salem鈥檚 U.S. Customs House as an inspiration for his first great novel, The Scarlet Letter (1850), so he used the time he spent visiting at the House of the Seven Gables (even if it actually had only three gables while he was living in Salem) as a basis for his composition of The House of the Seven Gables.
The narrator, at the beginning of the novel, describes the house itself as a presence that emphasizes the connection between the present and the past, and that might 鈥渟erve to illustrate how much of old material goes to make up the freshest novelty of human life. Hence, too, might be drawn a weighty lesson from the little-regarded truth that the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit in a far-distant time; that together with the seed of the merely temporary crop, which mortals term expediency, they inevitably sow the acorns of a more enduring growth, which may darkly overshadow their posterity鈥� (p. 2).
As The Scarlet Letter focused on the harshness of Puritan rule in colonial Massachusetts, so The House of the Seven Gables places emphasis on the injustice of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692-93, in which twenty people were executed as 鈥渨itches鈥� amidst a climate of irrational fear. Histories like Marion Starkey鈥檚 The Devil in Massachusetts (1949) have examined how 鈥渨itchcraft鈥� accusations in the Salem of those years were often nothing more than score-settling on the part of neighbors with a grudge, and Seven Gables sets forth just such a scenario:
Old Matthew Maule, in a word, was executed for the crime of witchcraft. He was one of the martyrs to that terrible delusion, which should teach us, among its other morals, that the influential classes, and those who take upon themselves to be leaders of the people, are fully liable to all the passionate error that has ever characterized the maddest mob. (p. 3)
Judged, tried, and condemned as a 鈥渨itch鈥� because one Colonel Pyncheon wants his land, Maule issues a curse upon the man who has used societal fear to bring about Maule鈥檚 death and steal his land: 鈥溾€楪od,鈥� said the dying man, pointing his finger, with a ghastly look, at the undismayed countenance of his enemy, 鈥楪od will give him blood to drink!鈥欌€� (p. 3) And sure enough, Colonel Pyncheon is later found dead, his mouth and beard stained with blood.
The Pyncheons, even though that blood-curse continues to be associated with their name, remain an important family in Salem; even as the family鈥檚 financial pre-eminence ebbs, what is left of the family continues 鈥渢o cherish, from generation to generation, an absurd delusion of family importance, which all along characterized the Pyncheons鈥� (p. 10).
The actual House of the Seven Gables, by the time in which the story is set, is home to Hepzibah Pyncheon and her brother Clifford. Hepzibah, who is elderly and is not fair of face, reflects on how grim her facial expression looks, but the narrator gallantly takes care to note that Hepzibah鈥檚 鈥渉eart never frowned. It was naturally tender, sensitive, and full of little tremors and palpitations鈥� (p. 21).
Though she is a descendant of aristocrats, Hepzibah has been reduced to opening a shop in order to make a living, and she is acutely conscious of the change in social status that this move into commercial enterprise, even if on a modest scale, entails: 鈥淟ife is made up of marble and mud. And, without all the trust in a comprehensive sympathy above us, we might hence be led to suspect the insult of a sneer, as well as an immitigable frown, on the iron countenance of fate. What is called poetic insight is the gift of discerning, in this sphere of strangely mingled elements, the beauty and the majesty which are compelled to assume a garb so sordid鈥� (p. 26).
A lodger in the house, a daguerreotypist named Holgrave, has encouraged Hepzibah in her plans to open a shop, in spite of Hepzibah鈥檚 misgivings, and tries to reassure her that her move into commerce is not to be considered unbearable or tragic: 鈥淚 find nothing so singular in life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it. So it will be with what you think so terrible鈥� (p. 29). Holgrave, who on one level represents the modern world challenging the prejudices and superstitions of the past, has on another level his own connection to the old tragedy of Matthew Maule鈥檚 unjust death and the blood-curse upon the Pyncheons.
A distant relative, young Phoebe Pyncheon, comes to help Hepzibah, in spite of Hepzibah鈥檚 misgivings. Phoebe is cheerful, optimistic, and helpful 鈥� 鈥淎ngels do not toil, but let their good works come out of them; and so did Phoebe鈥� (p. 56) 鈥� and she plays a much-needed positive role in the lives of Hepzibah and Clifford Pyncheon.
Clifford in particular 鈥� long imprisoned without just cause, because of the machinations of the recently returned Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon 鈥� has great difficulty dealing with the changes of a changing world: 鈥淣othing gives a sadder sense of decay than this loss or suspension of the power to deal with unaccustomed things, and to keep up with the swiftness of the passing moment鈥� (p. 111). Additionally, Clifford and Hepzibah feel trapped by the family curse 鈥� 鈥淔or, what other dungeon is so dark as one鈥檚 own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one鈥檚 own self!鈥� (p. 117)
Holgrave, in a tense conversation with Phoebe 鈥� who wants to be optimistic about life, where Holgrave鈥檚 outlook runs toward the grimly realistic 鈥� makes his own observations regarding the Pyncheons鈥� family dynamic:
鈥淚 can perceive, indeed, that Judge Pyncheon still keeps his eye on Clifford, in whose ruin he had so large a share. His motives and intentions, however, are a mystery to me. He is a determined and relentless man, with the genuine character of an inquisitor; and had he any object to gain by putting Clifford to the rack, I verily believe that he would wrench his joints from their sockets, in order to accomplish it. But, so wealthy and eminent as he is 鈥� so powerful in his own strength, and in the support of society on all sides 鈥� what can Judge Pyncheon have to hope or fear from the imbecile, branded, half-torpid Clifford?鈥� (p. 151)
Phoebe meanwhile justifies her interest in Hepzibah and Clifford, whom Holgrave affects to dismiss as belonging among the living dead, by saying that 鈥渕y small abilities were precisely what they needed; and I have a real interest in their welfare 鈥� an odd kind of motherly sentiment 鈥� which I wish you would not laugh at!鈥� (p. 150) Hawthorne seems to be suggesting that Holgrave, with all his awareness of the human capacity for evil, needs to learn to be a bit more compassionate; Phoebe, meanwhile, whose heart is so warm and kind, needs to understand that not everyone is as compassionate as she is, and needs to be more aware of the real human evil that can pose a threat to those whom she loves.
A narrative that sets forth supernatural forces as a possible, but not certain, explanation for key plot events gives the author of said narrative a couple of choices. Sometimes, as in Guy Ritchie鈥檚 film Sherlock Holmes (2009), a seemingly supernatural event turns out to be explainable in rational terms; at other times, as with Tim Burton鈥檚 film Sleepy Hollow (1999), a rationalist must accept the existence of forces beyond those that can be understood through the power of the reasoning mind alone.
I will leave it to the reader to discover how the Gothic elements of the plot of The House of the Seven Gables are resolved 鈥� adding only that Hawthorne seems interested in setting forth a cautiously optimistic assessment of how a society like Salem, or New England, or the United States of America, can learn from the wrongs of its past and move forward.
The real-life House of the Seven Gables, as mentioned above, remains popular: folks around modern Salem call it 鈥淗7G.鈥� The tour is well-organized and informative (the secret staircase is a highlight); the museum shop is well-stocked with H7G memorabilia. Yet ultimately, what makes this particular house stand out from other well-preserved and architecturally interesting homes is the way in which it is tied to this suspenseful, well-crafted, and thought-provoking novel.
Hawthorne is one of those early American writers who has never lost his relevance or his popularity among readers. In the United States of America, and worldwide, he is known for the way he combined a Romantic sensibility with a rigorous examination of New England鈥檚 often difficult history. As he cited his work in Salem鈥檚 U.S. Customs House as an inspiration for his first great novel, The Scarlet Letter (1850), so he used the time he spent visiting at the House of the Seven Gables (even if it actually had only three gables while he was living in Salem) as a basis for his composition of The House of the Seven Gables.
The narrator, at the beginning of the novel, describes the house itself as a presence that emphasizes the connection between the present and the past, and that might 鈥渟erve to illustrate how much of old material goes to make up the freshest novelty of human life. Hence, too, might be drawn a weighty lesson from the little-regarded truth that the act of the passing generation is the germ which may and must produce good or evil fruit in a far-distant time; that together with the seed of the merely temporary crop, which mortals term expediency, they inevitably sow the acorns of a more enduring growth, which may darkly overshadow their posterity鈥� (p. 2).
As The Scarlet Letter focused on the harshness of Puritan rule in colonial Massachusetts, so The House of the Seven Gables places emphasis on the injustice of the Salem Witch Trials of 1692-93, in which twenty people were executed as 鈥渨itches鈥� amidst a climate of irrational fear. Histories like Marion Starkey鈥檚 The Devil in Massachusetts (1949) have examined how 鈥渨itchcraft鈥� accusations in the Salem of those years were often nothing more than score-settling on the part of neighbors with a grudge, and Seven Gables sets forth just such a scenario:
Old Matthew Maule, in a word, was executed for the crime of witchcraft. He was one of the martyrs to that terrible delusion, which should teach us, among its other morals, that the influential classes, and those who take upon themselves to be leaders of the people, are fully liable to all the passionate error that has ever characterized the maddest mob. (p. 3)
Judged, tried, and condemned as a 鈥渨itch鈥� because one Colonel Pyncheon wants his land, Maule issues a curse upon the man who has used societal fear to bring about Maule鈥檚 death and steal his land: 鈥溾€楪od,鈥� said the dying man, pointing his finger, with a ghastly look, at the undismayed countenance of his enemy, 鈥楪od will give him blood to drink!鈥欌€� (p. 3) And sure enough, Colonel Pyncheon is later found dead, his mouth and beard stained with blood.
The Pyncheons, even though that blood-curse continues to be associated with their name, remain an important family in Salem; even as the family鈥檚 financial pre-eminence ebbs, what is left of the family continues 鈥渢o cherish, from generation to generation, an absurd delusion of family importance, which all along characterized the Pyncheons鈥� (p. 10).
The actual House of the Seven Gables, by the time in which the story is set, is home to Hepzibah Pyncheon and her brother Clifford. Hepzibah, who is elderly and is not fair of face, reflects on how grim her facial expression looks, but the narrator gallantly takes care to note that Hepzibah鈥檚 鈥渉eart never frowned. It was naturally tender, sensitive, and full of little tremors and palpitations鈥� (p. 21).
Though she is a descendant of aristocrats, Hepzibah has been reduced to opening a shop in order to make a living, and she is acutely conscious of the change in social status that this move into commercial enterprise, even if on a modest scale, entails: 鈥淟ife is made up of marble and mud. And, without all the trust in a comprehensive sympathy above us, we might hence be led to suspect the insult of a sneer, as well as an immitigable frown, on the iron countenance of fate. What is called poetic insight is the gift of discerning, in this sphere of strangely mingled elements, the beauty and the majesty which are compelled to assume a garb so sordid鈥� (p. 26).
A lodger in the house, a daguerreotypist named Holgrave, has encouraged Hepzibah in her plans to open a shop, in spite of Hepzibah鈥檚 misgivings, and tries to reassure her that her move into commerce is not to be considered unbearable or tragic: 鈥淚 find nothing so singular in life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it. So it will be with what you think so terrible鈥� (p. 29). Holgrave, who on one level represents the modern world challenging the prejudices and superstitions of the past, has on another level his own connection to the old tragedy of Matthew Maule鈥檚 unjust death and the blood-curse upon the Pyncheons.
A distant relative, young Phoebe Pyncheon, comes to help Hepzibah, in spite of Hepzibah鈥檚 misgivings. Phoebe is cheerful, optimistic, and helpful 鈥� 鈥淎ngels do not toil, but let their good works come out of them; and so did Phoebe鈥� (p. 56) 鈥� and she plays a much-needed positive role in the lives of Hepzibah and Clifford Pyncheon.
Clifford in particular 鈥� long imprisoned without just cause, because of the machinations of the recently returned Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon 鈥� has great difficulty dealing with the changes of a changing world: 鈥淣othing gives a sadder sense of decay than this loss or suspension of the power to deal with unaccustomed things, and to keep up with the swiftness of the passing moment鈥� (p. 111). Additionally, Clifford and Hepzibah feel trapped by the family curse 鈥� 鈥淔or, what other dungeon is so dark as one鈥檚 own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one鈥檚 own self!鈥� (p. 117)
Holgrave, in a tense conversation with Phoebe 鈥� who wants to be optimistic about life, where Holgrave鈥檚 outlook runs toward the grimly realistic 鈥� makes his own observations regarding the Pyncheons鈥� family dynamic:
鈥淚 can perceive, indeed, that Judge Pyncheon still keeps his eye on Clifford, in whose ruin he had so large a share. His motives and intentions, however, are a mystery to me. He is a determined and relentless man, with the genuine character of an inquisitor; and had he any object to gain by putting Clifford to the rack, I verily believe that he would wrench his joints from their sockets, in order to accomplish it. But, so wealthy and eminent as he is 鈥� so powerful in his own strength, and in the support of society on all sides 鈥� what can Judge Pyncheon have to hope or fear from the imbecile, branded, half-torpid Clifford?鈥� (p. 151)
Phoebe meanwhile justifies her interest in Hepzibah and Clifford, whom Holgrave affects to dismiss as belonging among the living dead, by saying that 鈥渕y small abilities were precisely what they needed; and I have a real interest in their welfare 鈥� an odd kind of motherly sentiment 鈥� which I wish you would not laugh at!鈥� (p. 150) Hawthorne seems to be suggesting that Holgrave, with all his awareness of the human capacity for evil, needs to learn to be a bit more compassionate; Phoebe, meanwhile, whose heart is so warm and kind, needs to understand that not everyone is as compassionate as she is, and needs to be more aware of the real human evil that can pose a threat to those whom she loves.
A narrative that sets forth supernatural forces as a possible, but not certain, explanation for key plot events gives the author of said narrative a couple of choices. Sometimes, as in Guy Ritchie鈥檚 film Sherlock Holmes (2009), a seemingly supernatural event turns out to be explainable in rational terms; at other times, as with Tim Burton鈥檚 film Sleepy Hollow (1999), a rationalist must accept the existence of forces beyond those that can be understood through the power of the reasoning mind alone.
I will leave it to the reader to discover how the Gothic elements of the plot of The House of the Seven Gables are resolved 鈥� adding only that Hawthorne seems interested in setting forth a cautiously optimistic assessment of how a society like Salem, or New England, or the United States of America, can learn from the wrongs of its past and move forward.
The real-life House of the Seven Gables, as mentioned above, remains popular: folks around modern Salem call it 鈥淗7G.鈥� The tour is well-organized and informative (the secret staircase is a highlight); the museum shop is well-stocked with H7G memorabilia. Yet ultimately, what makes this particular house stand out from other well-preserved and architecturally interesting homes is the way in which it is tied to this suspenseful, well-crafted, and thought-provoking novel.
January 12, 2018
4 stars for first read; 3.5 for second
In late September I toured the House of the Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts. Our guide, a knowledgeable and entertainingly wry young man, spoke of two additions made to the house after the woman who bought it decided to turn it into a tourist attraction: a room to emulate Hepzibah鈥檚 little shop and a secret stairway not mentioned in the text that Clifford must鈥檝e used to be able to suddenly appear the way he does. The latter intrigued me since I didn鈥檛 remember anything along those lines, so I decided upon a reread.
As I got further into it, I realized only the beginning seemed familiar and I started to wonder if perhaps I hadn鈥檛 finished the book that first time, though that didn鈥檛 seem right either. Perhaps it鈥檚 just that the beginning, with its legend of the Pyncheons and the Maules, and then its description of poor Hepzibah setting up shop are still the most memorable scenes. The middle is a lengthy setting-the-stage for a rather anticlimactic denouement, completed with perfunctory explanations, some of which is apparently known of due to mesmerism. I understand why I remember liking it more the first time I read it, as at times I felt that same frisson of 鈥榞othic-ness鈥� I felt while reading .
Our guide had mentioned he鈥檇 read the book numerous times, adding in a hushed tone that it wasn鈥檛 all that great, apologizing when I told him I鈥檇 read it. I think I also reread this to prove him wrong, but I鈥檓 unable to do so. The main feeling I鈥檝e come away with鈥攖hat Hawthorne struggled with inherited guilt due to the actions of his ancestor, a 鈥榟anging鈥� judge presiding over the 鈥榳itch鈥� trials鈥攊s what I discerned in that brilliant beginning.
And what of Clifford鈥檚 mysterious appearances? There鈥檚 really only one, but it is an important one; and a bit later there鈥檚 the mention of another relative having had 鈥渟ecret access鈥� to their uncle鈥檚 room: Curiosity satisfied.
As I read my old paperback copy, the edges of both the front and back covers shed pieces. (My 1985 edition has a picture of the house on the front; that cover seems to have been removed from 欧宝娱乐, though it was here not too long ago.) Last night, as I settled in to finish, the back cover fell completely off the spine. And if I count in a certain way the spaces left behind from the triangles that fell from the front cover, they number seven.
In late September I toured the House of the Seven Gables in Salem, Massachusetts. Our guide, a knowledgeable and entertainingly wry young man, spoke of two additions made to the house after the woman who bought it decided to turn it into a tourist attraction: a room to emulate Hepzibah鈥檚 little shop and a secret stairway not mentioned in the text that Clifford must鈥檝e used to be able to suddenly appear the way he does. The latter intrigued me since I didn鈥檛 remember anything along those lines, so I decided upon a reread.
As I got further into it, I realized only the beginning seemed familiar and I started to wonder if perhaps I hadn鈥檛 finished the book that first time, though that didn鈥檛 seem right either. Perhaps it鈥檚 just that the beginning, with its legend of the Pyncheons and the Maules, and then its description of poor Hepzibah setting up shop are still the most memorable scenes. The middle is a lengthy setting-the-stage for a rather anticlimactic denouement, completed with perfunctory explanations, some of which is apparently known of due to mesmerism. I understand why I remember liking it more the first time I read it, as at times I felt that same frisson of 鈥榞othic-ness鈥� I felt while reading .
Our guide had mentioned he鈥檇 read the book numerous times, adding in a hushed tone that it wasn鈥檛 all that great, apologizing when I told him I鈥檇 read it. I think I also reread this to prove him wrong, but I鈥檓 unable to do so. The main feeling I鈥檝e come away with鈥攖hat Hawthorne struggled with inherited guilt due to the actions of his ancestor, a 鈥榟anging鈥� judge presiding over the 鈥榳itch鈥� trials鈥攊s what I discerned in that brilliant beginning.
And what of Clifford鈥檚 mysterious appearances? There鈥檚 really only one, but it is an important one; and a bit later there鈥檚 the mention of another relative having had 鈥渟ecret access鈥� to their uncle鈥檚 room: Curiosity satisfied.
As I read my old paperback copy, the edges of both the front and back covers shed pieces. (My 1985 edition has a picture of the house on the front; that cover seems to have been removed from 欧宝娱乐, though it was here not too long ago.) Last night, as I settled in to finish, the back cover fell completely off the spine. And if I count in a certain way the spaces left behind from the triangles that fell from the front cover, they number seven.
February 23, 2011
A clueless group here in goodreads.com made this this its book of the month read under the "Horror" genre when there is no horror in it. The author called it, instead, a "Romance" but there is no romance in it, either, except a brief declaration of love for each other of two protagonists towards the end with all its unmistakable phoniness ("How can you love a simple girl like me?" Duh, all men profess to love simple girls!).
This is actually a sex book written under the atmosphere of sexual repression during the mid 19th century.
There is this big, old house (with seven gables, of course) which has a dark past that can be traced back to a hundred or so years. Displayed inside is a portrait of the house's builder and original owner, Colonel Pyncheon. Its present occupants are a brother and a sister, both Pyncheons too, descendants of the Colonel, both decrepit and poor. The brother, Clifford, had apparently lost his marbles and acts, at times, like a child.
They have a border, occupying one of the house's seven gables, a young, good-looking artist. Later comes for a visit (and she eventually became a occupant) another Pyncheon, a cousin of the brother and sister. She's young and pretty. And what would a story be without a villain? So we have Judge Pyncheon, another cousin: rich, powerful and a look-alike of Colonel Pyncheon in the portrait and said to be as evil as the original.
Everything needed for gothic sex is here: a big, old gloomy "house"(which, in the dictionary, can mean a brothel), reminiscent of the castle in Marquis de Sade's "120 Days of Sodom"; an unattractive sex-starved character (the sister, a spinster, with a permanent scowl on her face and with a sado-masochistic name "Hepzibah"); one with an infantile taste for sex (the brother named Clifford, off in the head); the stud (the artist/border, Holgrave), a permanent fixture in all porn films; a nubile object of delectation and ready for corruption (the young lady from the country who first came for a visit and with the equally-nubile name "Phoebe"); and a villain (Judge Pyncheon).
The first sex scene (symbolically only; remember this was in the 19th century when the Philippines was still firmly under Spanish rule) is where Hepzibah opened up her small store to earn her upkeep, like she is opening her legs for the first time in her life after she is forced to earn money by prostitution. Her first customer is the stud/artist. He asks her if he can assist her any further in her preparation. When Hepzibah--
"saw the young man's smile--looking so much the brighter on a thoughtful face--and heard his kindly tone, she broke first into a hysteric giggle and then began to sob.
"'Ah, Mr. Holgrave,' cried she, as soon as she could speak, 'I never can go through with it! Never, never, never! I wish I were dead, and in the old family tomb, with all my forefathers! With my father, and my mother, and my sister! Yes, and with my brother, who had far better find me there than here! The world is too chill and hard--and I am too old, and too feeble, and too hopeless!'"
The stud, Holgrave, however gives her words of encouragement:
"'Oh, believe me, Miss Hepzibah, these feelings will not trouble you any longer, after you are once fairly in the midst of your enterprise. They are unavoidable at this moment, standing, as you do, on the outer verge of your long seclusion, and peopling the world with ugly shapes, which you will soon find to be as unreal as the giants and ogres of a child's storybook. I find nothing so singular in life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it. So it will be with what you think so terrible.'"
The exchange then continues:
"'But I am a woman!' said Hepzibah, piteously. 'I was going to say a lady, but I consider that as past.'
"'Well, no matter if it be past!' answered the artist, a strange gleam of half-hidden sarcasm flashing through the kindliness of his manner. 'Let it go! You are the better without it....'"
For Clifford, the retard, nothing is more beautiful than Phoebe--
"He took unfailing note of every charm that appertained to her sex, and saw the ripeness of her lips, and the virginal development of her bosom."
But since he is such a child, all he can do is to touch her flower and smell it--
"His feeling for flowers was very exquisite, and seemed not so much a taste as an emotion; he was fond of sitting with one in his hand, intently observing it, and looking from its petals into Phoebe's face, as if the garden flower were the sister of the household maiden. Not merely was there a delight in the flower's perfume, or pleasure in its beautiful form, and the delicacy or brightness of his hue..."
With Phoebe by his side his little weapon comes alive--
"now with the lesson thoroughly by heart, he could with difficulty comprehend his little airy happiness. Frequently, there was a dim shadow of doubt in his eyes. 'Take my hand, Phoebe,' he would say, 'and pinch it hard with your little fingers! Give me a rose, that I may press it thorns, and prove myself awake by the sharp touch of pain!' Evidently, he desired this PRICK of a trifling anguish..."
What about the villain Judge Pyncheon? Here he is compared with the long dead Colonel Pyncheon and the clear implication is that both were as debauch and cruel as any of Marquis de Sade's sick "heroes":
"The Puritan (Colonel Pyncheon), again, an autocrat in his own household, had worn out three wives, and, merely by remorseless weight and hardness of his character in the conjugal relation, had sent them, one after another, brokenhearted, to their graves. ...The Judge had wedded but a single wife, and lost her in the third or fourth year of their marriage. There was a fable, however--for such we choose to consider it, though not impossibly typical of Judge Pynchon's marital deportment--that the lady got her death blow in the honeymoon, and never smiled again, because her husband compelled her to serve him with coffee every morning at his bedside, in token of fealty to her liege lord and master."
What is this, what is this "serving him WITH coffee every morning at his bedside" like he was her liege lord and master and which was so gross as to be the equivalent of a DEATH BLOW? My lascivious readers, your guess is absolutely correct! What could be more debasing than forcing your wife to give you a blowjob in the morning while she drinks her coffee?
This is actually a sex book written under the atmosphere of sexual repression during the mid 19th century.
There is this big, old house (with seven gables, of course) which has a dark past that can be traced back to a hundred or so years. Displayed inside is a portrait of the house's builder and original owner, Colonel Pyncheon. Its present occupants are a brother and a sister, both Pyncheons too, descendants of the Colonel, both decrepit and poor. The brother, Clifford, had apparently lost his marbles and acts, at times, like a child.
They have a border, occupying one of the house's seven gables, a young, good-looking artist. Later comes for a visit (and she eventually became a occupant) another Pyncheon, a cousin of the brother and sister. She's young and pretty. And what would a story be without a villain? So we have Judge Pyncheon, another cousin: rich, powerful and a look-alike of Colonel Pyncheon in the portrait and said to be as evil as the original.
Everything needed for gothic sex is here: a big, old gloomy "house"(which, in the dictionary, can mean a brothel), reminiscent of the castle in Marquis de Sade's "120 Days of Sodom"; an unattractive sex-starved character (the sister, a spinster, with a permanent scowl on her face and with a sado-masochistic name "Hepzibah"); one with an infantile taste for sex (the brother named Clifford, off in the head); the stud (the artist/border, Holgrave), a permanent fixture in all porn films; a nubile object of delectation and ready for corruption (the young lady from the country who first came for a visit and with the equally-nubile name "Phoebe"); and a villain (Judge Pyncheon).
The first sex scene (symbolically only; remember this was in the 19th century when the Philippines was still firmly under Spanish rule) is where Hepzibah opened up her small store to earn her upkeep, like she is opening her legs for the first time in her life after she is forced to earn money by prostitution. Her first customer is the stud/artist. He asks her if he can assist her any further in her preparation. When Hepzibah--
"saw the young man's smile--looking so much the brighter on a thoughtful face--and heard his kindly tone, she broke first into a hysteric giggle and then began to sob.
"'Ah, Mr. Holgrave,' cried she, as soon as she could speak, 'I never can go through with it! Never, never, never! I wish I were dead, and in the old family tomb, with all my forefathers! With my father, and my mother, and my sister! Yes, and with my brother, who had far better find me there than here! The world is too chill and hard--and I am too old, and too feeble, and too hopeless!'"
The stud, Holgrave, however gives her words of encouragement:
"'Oh, believe me, Miss Hepzibah, these feelings will not trouble you any longer, after you are once fairly in the midst of your enterprise. They are unavoidable at this moment, standing, as you do, on the outer verge of your long seclusion, and peopling the world with ugly shapes, which you will soon find to be as unreal as the giants and ogres of a child's storybook. I find nothing so singular in life as that everything appears to lose its substance the instant one actually grapples with it. So it will be with what you think so terrible.'"
The exchange then continues:
"'But I am a woman!' said Hepzibah, piteously. 'I was going to say a lady, but I consider that as past.'
"'Well, no matter if it be past!' answered the artist, a strange gleam of half-hidden sarcasm flashing through the kindliness of his manner. 'Let it go! You are the better without it....'"
For Clifford, the retard, nothing is more beautiful than Phoebe--
"He took unfailing note of every charm that appertained to her sex, and saw the ripeness of her lips, and the virginal development of her bosom."
But since he is such a child, all he can do is to touch her flower and smell it--
"His feeling for flowers was very exquisite, and seemed not so much a taste as an emotion; he was fond of sitting with one in his hand, intently observing it, and looking from its petals into Phoebe's face, as if the garden flower were the sister of the household maiden. Not merely was there a delight in the flower's perfume, or pleasure in its beautiful form, and the delicacy or brightness of his hue..."
With Phoebe by his side his little weapon comes alive--
"now with the lesson thoroughly by heart, he could with difficulty comprehend his little airy happiness. Frequently, there was a dim shadow of doubt in his eyes. 'Take my hand, Phoebe,' he would say, 'and pinch it hard with your little fingers! Give me a rose, that I may press it thorns, and prove myself awake by the sharp touch of pain!' Evidently, he desired this PRICK of a trifling anguish..."
What about the villain Judge Pyncheon? Here he is compared with the long dead Colonel Pyncheon and the clear implication is that both were as debauch and cruel as any of Marquis de Sade's sick "heroes":
"The Puritan (Colonel Pyncheon), again, an autocrat in his own household, had worn out three wives, and, merely by remorseless weight and hardness of his character in the conjugal relation, had sent them, one after another, brokenhearted, to their graves. ...The Judge had wedded but a single wife, and lost her in the third or fourth year of their marriage. There was a fable, however--for such we choose to consider it, though not impossibly typical of Judge Pynchon's marital deportment--that the lady got her death blow in the honeymoon, and never smiled again, because her husband compelled her to serve him with coffee every morning at his bedside, in token of fealty to her liege lord and master."
What is this, what is this "serving him WITH coffee every morning at his bedside" like he was her liege lord and master and which was so gross as to be the equivalent of a DEATH BLOW? My lascivious readers, your guess is absolutely correct! What could be more debasing than forcing your wife to give you a blowjob in the morning while she drinks her coffee?
January 5, 2022
Best book I read in December 2021
鈥淟a fe de la anciana era muy d茅bil, y la oraci贸n demasiado pesada para ascender a los cielos. La s煤plica volvi贸 a caer como un peso pl煤mbeo a su coraz贸n. La golpe贸 con la maliciosa convicci贸n de que la providencia no interven铆a en esas pat茅ticas injusticias que comet铆a un individuo contra el pr贸jimo, ni tampoco apaciguaba las peque帽as agon铆as de un alma solitaria, sino que impart铆a su justicia y su piedad con un barrido generalizado sobre la mitad del universo a un tiempo, al igual que el sol ilumina la tierra.鈥�
Lectura que se va directo al Top 12 del a帽o y por cierto, la 煤ltima en entrar al top. *
La casa de los siete tejados, publicada en 1851 y escrita por Nathaniel Hawthorne en una de las mejores etapas de su vida como escritor, es una de esas novelas en las que solo hay dos posibilidades: o la amas o la odias.
Por lo general, yo tiendo a ser partidario de recomendar todos los libros que me han encantado y los que especialmente considero mis favoritos (como este caso), pero har茅 una 别虫肠别辫肠颈贸苍 con esta obra y dir茅 que prefiero no recomendarla en general, y ahora explic贸 el por qu茅.
Nathaniel Hawthorne tiene una manera muy peculiar de escribir sus obras, y aunque he le铆do tan solo dos novelas y un cuento de 茅l, el estilo es muy parecido: siempre de afuera hacia adentro, es decir, primero nos describe toda la escena, la atm贸sfera, los l铆mites o bordes que delimita, y al final, ahora s铆, va directo al grano. Con La letra escarlata sucede, pero con La casa de los siete tejados sucede incluso m谩s veces y con mayor intensidad.
Esta es una obra densa, muy densa en algunas partes 鈥攎encionar茅 m谩s adelante un caso particular鈥�, donde lo que importa m谩s es la prosa y el estilo narrativo, que la historia que est谩 siendo contada. No dir铆a que es dif铆cil de leer, de hecho se lee muy bien siempre y cuando uno como lector se sienta atra铆do por la narrativa de Hawthorne, porque de ser as铆, no deja indiferente a nadie. Lo pondr茅 f谩cil, yo recomendar铆a esta novela 煤nicamente a alguien que es s煤per fan de leer a Nathaniel Hawthorne.
A煤n no olvido, por ejemplo, la maestr铆a con la que en el primer cap铆tulo el narrador es capaz de describirnos la casa minuciosamente, sin escap谩rsele ni un solo detalle, su historia desde sus or铆genes, as铆 como qui茅nes la han habitado. Otro caso, detalles que no suelo ver en otros autores frecuentemente, como el hecho de que un gallo y dos gallinas pasen a ser parte de la historia, y cuando el narrador habla del gallo, lo describe y de pronto entra en su mente, se pregunta 驴qu茅 nos dir铆a si pudiera decirnos algo? y ah铆 es cuando crea una situaci贸n hipot茅tica en la mente del gallo; quiz谩 sea una situaci贸n ordinaria, pero no es el qu茅, sino el 肠贸尘辞 lo que impresiona, el hecho de que, partiendo de detalles tan comunes y simples, pueda sacar conclusiones tan bien elaboradoras, lo cual dice mucho del escritor nato que era Hawthorne.
Ahora, hablando de la historia, primero me gustar铆a decir que mi edici贸n contiene un resumen en la contraportada, que no es mas que la s铆ntesis del primer cap铆tulo del libro, el cual funciona como antesala de la novela; por ende, no recomendar铆a leer esta sinopsis ya que en mi opini贸n, convendr铆a m谩s entrar a ciegas y ver lo que le depara a uno dentro. Adem谩s, la historia en s铆 misma no se centra directamente en el pasado de la familia Pyncheon como se insin煤a ah铆, sino que sigue de cerca la vida de cuatro de sus descendientes dos siglos aproximadamente despu茅s del tal infortunio.
Como sucede en La letra escarlata , donde el personaje principal no es m谩s que la letra en s铆 misma y donde el resto de los personajes giran en torno a ella, aqu铆 sucede exactamente lo mismo: la casa de los siete tejados pasa a ser la absoluta protagonista, cobra vida 鈥攏o de manera literal鈥� a trav茅s de las innumerables descripciones que nos deja ver Hawthorne de la misma. La casa, como la letra escarlata, pasa a ser el coraz贸n de la novela, la que permite que exista. Es as铆, como la historia del resto de los personajes pasa a ser un complemento y no el objetivo principal del autor; dicho lo anterior, no est谩 de m谩s aclarar que me es imposible definir la trama en un p谩rrafo, dado que va avanzando sin un fin o un rumbo espec铆ficos, donde uno como lector se deja llevar y atrapar y cuyo principal medio de arrastre es, de nuevo, la narrativa de Hawthorne. Si tuviera que definir en una sola frase lo que esta historia significa para m铆, ser铆a sencillamente: "uno no puedo huir de su propio pasado, ya que como un rayo de luz, no importa d贸nde est茅s ni a d贸nde vayas, siempre te alcanzar谩 en el presente".
Si bien puedo asegurarles que disfrut茅 cada cap铆tulo de este libro, cada uno a su manera, hay uno en particular que se ubica casi al final que podr铆a considerarse una 别虫肠别辫肠颈贸苍. En t茅rminos generales, me gust贸, pero es un cap铆tulo bastante largo y bastante denso, 20 p谩ginas que me tomaron 2 horas leer. En s铆, no es dif铆cil de leer, el problema est谩 en que el narrador se toma su tiempo para decirnos al final que un personaje, que sab铆amos que hab铆a muerto el cap铆tulo anterior, efectivamente hab铆a muerto. 驴C贸mo lo hace? A trav茅s de 20 p谩ginas describiendo todo: la habitaci贸n, con todo lujo de detalle, la posici贸n del cuerpo, lo que se escucha del exterior, del interior, los planes del personaje que ten铆a a futuro y que 驴posiblemente? no pueda completar m谩s, memorias del pasado, olores, sabores, formas, incluso una escena sacada de la propia imaginaci贸n del narrador.
Lo ir贸nico es que termina el cap铆tulo con este p谩rrafo:
鈥溌scuchen! Suena la campanilla de la tienda. Despu茅s de horas como estas, a lo largo de las que hemos soportado nuestro denso relato, resulta positivo ser consciente de que existe un mundo vivo鈥︹€�
Hasta el mismo autor sabe que ha sido denso, y s铆, para qu茅 negarlo. Me gust贸, claro que s铆, pero pienso que hay que ser muy, muy fan del autor y de su narrativa para ser capaz de terminarlo.
Como 煤ltimo punto a destacar est谩 el final. No es un final incre铆ble, de nuevo, la historia al ir dando saltos sin un objetivo final espec铆fico, uno podr铆a esperar lo que sea. El problema con el final es que se me hizo demasiado optimista con respecto a la ambientaci贸n y a la problem谩tica que se ven铆a abordando es sus previas 300 p谩ginas. No es un mal final, pero es un final que uno no se espera que ocurra. Ahora bien, de acuerdo al catedr谩tico que realiza la introducci贸n de esta edici贸n 鈥攗na muy buena introducci贸n por cierto, que recomiendo leer despu茅s de la novela porque destripa el final y puntos relevantes de la historia鈥�, Hawthorne escribi贸 este libro cuando estaba teniendo una etapa alegre en su vida personal, y cosechando un considerable 茅xito con su novela previa, La letra escarlata, adem谩s de que su propio editor le exig铆a un final feliz, acorde con el estilo literario y lo que el p煤blico quer铆a leer en la 茅poca. Si tomamos en cuenta ambos detalles, parece entenderse el por qu茅 del final, aunque decepcionante o no, debo reconocer que las 煤ltimas l铆neas son una completa maravilla, a pesar de todo.
A este punto, ya no s茅 si los he animado a leer el libro o los he espantado para que no lo hagan, pero sea cual sea la decisi贸n que tomen, es decir, leerlo o no leerlo, les aseguro que no se arrepentir谩n: si lo leen, encontrar谩n una joya para todo amante de la prosa de Hawthorne; y si no, seguro que habr谩 sido una sabia decisi贸n.
鈥淎s铆 pues esa invitada 鈥攍a 煤nica que no falla nunca a la hora de colarse, tarde o temprano, en la morada de todos los seres humanos鈥� la muerte, 隆hab铆a cruzado el umbral de la casa de los siete tejados!鈥�
鈥斺赌斺赌�
* Mi top del a帽o podr铆a verse modificado con base en lo que me depare de aqu铆 a fin de a帽o, pero por el momento, este es el 鈥減osible鈥� resultado final.
鈥淟a fe de la anciana era muy d茅bil, y la oraci贸n demasiado pesada para ascender a los cielos. La s煤plica volvi贸 a caer como un peso pl煤mbeo a su coraz贸n. La golpe贸 con la maliciosa convicci贸n de que la providencia no interven铆a en esas pat茅ticas injusticias que comet铆a un individuo contra el pr贸jimo, ni tampoco apaciguaba las peque帽as agon铆as de un alma solitaria, sino que impart铆a su justicia y su piedad con un barrido generalizado sobre la mitad del universo a un tiempo, al igual que el sol ilumina la tierra.鈥�
Lectura que se va directo al Top 12 del a帽o y por cierto, la 煤ltima en entrar al top. *
La casa de los siete tejados, publicada en 1851 y escrita por Nathaniel Hawthorne en una de las mejores etapas de su vida como escritor, es una de esas novelas en las que solo hay dos posibilidades: o la amas o la odias.
Por lo general, yo tiendo a ser partidario de recomendar todos los libros que me han encantado y los que especialmente considero mis favoritos (como este caso), pero har茅 una 别虫肠别辫肠颈贸苍 con esta obra y dir茅 que prefiero no recomendarla en general, y ahora explic贸 el por qu茅.
Nathaniel Hawthorne tiene una manera muy peculiar de escribir sus obras, y aunque he le铆do tan solo dos novelas y un cuento de 茅l, el estilo es muy parecido: siempre de afuera hacia adentro, es decir, primero nos describe toda la escena, la atm贸sfera, los l铆mites o bordes que delimita, y al final, ahora s铆, va directo al grano. Con La letra escarlata sucede, pero con La casa de los siete tejados sucede incluso m谩s veces y con mayor intensidad.
Esta es una obra densa, muy densa en algunas partes 鈥攎encionar茅 m谩s adelante un caso particular鈥�, donde lo que importa m谩s es la prosa y el estilo narrativo, que la historia que est谩 siendo contada. No dir铆a que es dif铆cil de leer, de hecho se lee muy bien siempre y cuando uno como lector se sienta atra铆do por la narrativa de Hawthorne, porque de ser as铆, no deja indiferente a nadie. Lo pondr茅 f谩cil, yo recomendar铆a esta novela 煤nicamente a alguien que es s煤per fan de leer a Nathaniel Hawthorne.
A煤n no olvido, por ejemplo, la maestr铆a con la que en el primer cap铆tulo el narrador es capaz de describirnos la casa minuciosamente, sin escap谩rsele ni un solo detalle, su historia desde sus or铆genes, as铆 como qui茅nes la han habitado. Otro caso, detalles que no suelo ver en otros autores frecuentemente, como el hecho de que un gallo y dos gallinas pasen a ser parte de la historia, y cuando el narrador habla del gallo, lo describe y de pronto entra en su mente, se pregunta 驴qu茅 nos dir铆a si pudiera decirnos algo? y ah铆 es cuando crea una situaci贸n hipot茅tica en la mente del gallo; quiz谩 sea una situaci贸n ordinaria, pero no es el qu茅, sino el 肠贸尘辞 lo que impresiona, el hecho de que, partiendo de detalles tan comunes y simples, pueda sacar conclusiones tan bien elaboradoras, lo cual dice mucho del escritor nato que era Hawthorne.
Ahora, hablando de la historia, primero me gustar铆a decir que mi edici贸n contiene un resumen en la contraportada, que no es mas que la s铆ntesis del primer cap铆tulo del libro, el cual funciona como antesala de la novela; por ende, no recomendar铆a leer esta sinopsis ya que en mi opini贸n, convendr铆a m谩s entrar a ciegas y ver lo que le depara a uno dentro. Adem谩s, la historia en s铆 misma no se centra directamente en el pasado de la familia Pyncheon como se insin煤a ah铆, sino que sigue de cerca la vida de cuatro de sus descendientes dos siglos aproximadamente despu茅s del tal infortunio.
Como sucede en La letra escarlata , donde el personaje principal no es m谩s que la letra en s铆 misma y donde el resto de los personajes giran en torno a ella, aqu铆 sucede exactamente lo mismo: la casa de los siete tejados pasa a ser la absoluta protagonista, cobra vida 鈥攏o de manera literal鈥� a trav茅s de las innumerables descripciones que nos deja ver Hawthorne de la misma. La casa, como la letra escarlata, pasa a ser el coraz贸n de la novela, la que permite que exista. Es as铆, como la historia del resto de los personajes pasa a ser un complemento y no el objetivo principal del autor; dicho lo anterior, no est谩 de m谩s aclarar que me es imposible definir la trama en un p谩rrafo, dado que va avanzando sin un fin o un rumbo espec铆ficos, donde uno como lector se deja llevar y atrapar y cuyo principal medio de arrastre es, de nuevo, la narrativa de Hawthorne. Si tuviera que definir en una sola frase lo que esta historia significa para m铆, ser铆a sencillamente: "uno no puedo huir de su propio pasado, ya que como un rayo de luz, no importa d贸nde est茅s ni a d贸nde vayas, siempre te alcanzar谩 en el presente".
Si bien puedo asegurarles que disfrut茅 cada cap铆tulo de este libro, cada uno a su manera, hay uno en particular que se ubica casi al final que podr铆a considerarse una 别虫肠别辫肠颈贸苍. En t茅rminos generales, me gust贸, pero es un cap铆tulo bastante largo y bastante denso, 20 p谩ginas que me tomaron 2 horas leer. En s铆, no es dif铆cil de leer, el problema est谩 en que el narrador se toma su tiempo para decirnos al final que un personaje, que sab铆amos que hab铆a muerto el cap铆tulo anterior, efectivamente hab铆a muerto. 驴C贸mo lo hace? A trav茅s de 20 p谩ginas describiendo todo: la habitaci贸n, con todo lujo de detalle, la posici贸n del cuerpo, lo que se escucha del exterior, del interior, los planes del personaje que ten铆a a futuro y que 驴posiblemente? no pueda completar m谩s, memorias del pasado, olores, sabores, formas, incluso una escena sacada de la propia imaginaci贸n del narrador.
Lo ir贸nico es que termina el cap铆tulo con este p谩rrafo:
鈥溌scuchen! Suena la campanilla de la tienda. Despu茅s de horas como estas, a lo largo de las que hemos soportado nuestro denso relato, resulta positivo ser consciente de que existe un mundo vivo鈥︹€�
Hasta el mismo autor sabe que ha sido denso, y s铆, para qu茅 negarlo. Me gust贸, claro que s铆, pero pienso que hay que ser muy, muy fan del autor y de su narrativa para ser capaz de terminarlo.
Como 煤ltimo punto a destacar est谩 el final. No es un final incre铆ble, de nuevo, la historia al ir dando saltos sin un objetivo final espec铆fico, uno podr铆a esperar lo que sea. El problema con el final es que se me hizo demasiado optimista con respecto a la ambientaci贸n y a la problem谩tica que se ven铆a abordando es sus previas 300 p谩ginas. No es un mal final, pero es un final que uno no se espera que ocurra. Ahora bien, de acuerdo al catedr谩tico que realiza la introducci贸n de esta edici贸n 鈥攗na muy buena introducci贸n por cierto, que recomiendo leer despu茅s de la novela porque destripa el final y puntos relevantes de la historia鈥�, Hawthorne escribi贸 este libro cuando estaba teniendo una etapa alegre en su vida personal, y cosechando un considerable 茅xito con su novela previa, La letra escarlata, adem谩s de que su propio editor le exig铆a un final feliz, acorde con el estilo literario y lo que el p煤blico quer铆a leer en la 茅poca. Si tomamos en cuenta ambos detalles, parece entenderse el por qu茅 del final, aunque decepcionante o no, debo reconocer que las 煤ltimas l铆neas son una completa maravilla, a pesar de todo.
A este punto, ya no s茅 si los he animado a leer el libro o los he espantado para que no lo hagan, pero sea cual sea la decisi贸n que tomen, es decir, leerlo o no leerlo, les aseguro que no se arrepentir谩n: si lo leen, encontrar谩n una joya para todo amante de la prosa de Hawthorne; y si no, seguro que habr谩 sido una sabia decisi贸n.
鈥淎s铆 pues esa invitada 鈥攍a 煤nica que no falla nunca a la hora de colarse, tarde o temprano, en la morada de todos los seres humanos鈥� la muerte, 隆hab铆a cruzado el umbral de la casa de los siete tejados!鈥�
鈥斺赌斺赌�
* Mi top del a帽o podr铆a verse modificado con base en lo que me depare de aqu铆 a fin de a帽o, pero por el momento, este es el 鈥減osible鈥� resultado final.
May 6, 2018
ETA: A VERY SHORT REVIEW
First the book was difficult because of dense language. Then the language lightened up and I could enjoy parts. At the end it went rapidly downhill, being slapstick in style. I could have saved myself a lot of time and just written this as my review.
****
鈥淗alfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst.鈥�
Here is the house Hawthorne is speaking of:
It is The House of Seven Gables. It exists still today, in Salem, Massachusetts, built in 1668 by sea captain and merchant John Turner. Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) lived in Salem. His cousin, Susanna Ingersoll, was at this time the house鈥檚 owner, and Hawthorne visited her there. Hawthorne has imagined a fictional family, the Pyncheons. He has drawn a gothic story about them, their lives and this house. In the tale, Colonel Pyncheon has the house built by carpenter Matthew Maule. A legal dispute arises, deeds are lost, thereafter follow gruesome deaths and talk of the supernatural. Who has the right to live there? This information sets the stage. Only thereafter does the story really begin--two centuries later, in the 1850s.We meet five Pyncheon descendants, Hepzibah, Phoebe, Clifford, Venner and Judge Jaffrey, as well as Holgrave the daguerrotypist and Ned Higgins, a child fond of gingerbread cookies. Through flashbacks we learn about the interim years and come to meet Alice and Gervayse Pyncheon, as well as the grandson of Matthew Maule.
The introductory section, the first six chapters, does not live and breathe; we are being told of previous events. The chapters serve as the background to the story that is to unfold, the story set in the 1850s. The author is our narrator, he interrupts, explains and voices his opinion on events. He is philosophical; he has a message to deliver. He is longwinded. The views expressed are at times difficult to get through鈥攑erplexing, abstruse, wordy and overblown. As the story picks up speed, humor, dialogs and lines of lyrical beauty make the prose lighter and easier to absorb. Here follow three examples of lines I like:
鈥�...and I love to watch how the day, tired as it is, lags away reluctantly, and hates to be called yesterday so soon.鈥�
鈥溾€he summer eve might be fancied as sprinkling dews and liquid moonlight.鈥�
which contrasts with
鈥渢he clamor of the wind through the lonely house.鈥�
Hawthorne has a knack for creating the feeling of a place, of the pervading atmosphere. Humor revolves around the family鈥檚 chickens and that child in love with gingerbread cookies. I even found myself enjoying some of the shorter lines of philosophical bent:
鈥淎 man鈥檚 bewilderment is a measure of his wisdom.鈥�
鈥淟ife is made up of marble and mud.鈥�
鈥淣othing gives a sadder sense of decay, than this loss or suspension of the power to deal with unaccustomed things, and to keep up with the swiftness of the passing moment.鈥�
鈥淎mbition is a more powerful talisman than witchcraft.鈥�
Very much a Gothic novel, a sense of gloom and disaster begins to permeate the tone of the novel. A sense of impending doom builds, a doom tied to the relentless manner by which the wrongdoings of one generation inexorably shape the doings of the next. It is this that is scary. In Hawthorne锟斤拷锟絪 words:
鈥淭he past is but a coarse and sensual prophecy of the present and the future.鈥�
鈥淲hat slaves we are to bygone times!鈥�
He asks:
鈥淪hall we never get rid of the past?鈥�
Then he remonstrates:
鈥淲e are not doomed to creep on in the old ways.鈥�
Clearly, Hawthorne is saying we must break free from the past. The question is if the characters will have the strength to do this. It is this that the book asks.
Many state that it is difficult to read Hawthorne鈥檚 prose. In parts it is wordy, but not in all. It is for this reason, I have included quotes. They are my proof.
I grew to like the prose style, when it lightens up a bit, once the story picks up, after the tedious start.
But then came the ending, which I absolutely detested. It destroyed everything for me. So damn gimmicky, so clash-bang-boom. I鈥檇 have to admit that many Gothic novels do end in such a manner, but I was mistakenly thinking鈥攚ow, here is a great Gothic novel that exhibits discernment and intelligence. Dear Hawthorne, it is not always necessary to end with a splash! made the whole book go down the drain for me. I recommend it to nobody. Read instead.
The audiobook is superbly narrated by Anthony Heald. I believe that a really good narrator can make difficult, abstruse prose intelligible. IF you decide you do want to pick this up, I definitely recommend that you listen to it. Be sure to listen to the audiobook narrated Anthony Heald.
When I look back on this novel, I no longer understand how I could have liked it at all.
First the book was difficult because of dense language. Then the language lightened up and I could enjoy parts. At the end it went rapidly downhill, being slapstick in style. I could have saved myself a lot of time and just written this as my review.
****
鈥淗alfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst.鈥�
Here is the house Hawthorne is speaking of:
It is The House of Seven Gables. It exists still today, in Salem, Massachusetts, built in 1668 by sea captain and merchant John Turner. Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) lived in Salem. His cousin, Susanna Ingersoll, was at this time the house鈥檚 owner, and Hawthorne visited her there. Hawthorne has imagined a fictional family, the Pyncheons. He has drawn a gothic story about them, their lives and this house. In the tale, Colonel Pyncheon has the house built by carpenter Matthew Maule. A legal dispute arises, deeds are lost, thereafter follow gruesome deaths and talk of the supernatural. Who has the right to live there? This information sets the stage. Only thereafter does the story really begin--two centuries later, in the 1850s.We meet five Pyncheon descendants, Hepzibah, Phoebe, Clifford, Venner and Judge Jaffrey, as well as Holgrave the daguerrotypist and Ned Higgins, a child fond of gingerbread cookies. Through flashbacks we learn about the interim years and come to meet Alice and Gervayse Pyncheon, as well as the grandson of Matthew Maule.
The introductory section, the first six chapters, does not live and breathe; we are being told of previous events. The chapters serve as the background to the story that is to unfold, the story set in the 1850s. The author is our narrator, he interrupts, explains and voices his opinion on events. He is philosophical; he has a message to deliver. He is longwinded. The views expressed are at times difficult to get through鈥攑erplexing, abstruse, wordy and overblown. As the story picks up speed, humor, dialogs and lines of lyrical beauty make the prose lighter and easier to absorb. Here follow three examples of lines I like:
鈥�...and I love to watch how the day, tired as it is, lags away reluctantly, and hates to be called yesterday so soon.鈥�
鈥溾€he summer eve might be fancied as sprinkling dews and liquid moonlight.鈥�
which contrasts with
鈥渢he clamor of the wind through the lonely house.鈥�
Hawthorne has a knack for creating the feeling of a place, of the pervading atmosphere. Humor revolves around the family鈥檚 chickens and that child in love with gingerbread cookies. I even found myself enjoying some of the shorter lines of philosophical bent:
鈥淎 man鈥檚 bewilderment is a measure of his wisdom.鈥�
鈥淟ife is made up of marble and mud.鈥�
鈥淣othing gives a sadder sense of decay, than this loss or suspension of the power to deal with unaccustomed things, and to keep up with the swiftness of the passing moment.鈥�
鈥淎mbition is a more powerful talisman than witchcraft.鈥�
Very much a Gothic novel, a sense of gloom and disaster begins to permeate the tone of the novel. A sense of impending doom builds, a doom tied to the relentless manner by which the wrongdoings of one generation inexorably shape the doings of the next. It is this that is scary. In Hawthorne锟斤拷锟絪 words:
鈥淭he past is but a coarse and sensual prophecy of the present and the future.鈥�
鈥淲hat slaves we are to bygone times!鈥�
He asks:
鈥淪hall we never get rid of the past?鈥�
Then he remonstrates:
鈥淲e are not doomed to creep on in the old ways.鈥�
Clearly, Hawthorne is saying we must break free from the past. The question is if the characters will have the strength to do this. It is this that the book asks.
Many state that it is difficult to read Hawthorne鈥檚 prose. In parts it is wordy, but not in all. It is for this reason, I have included quotes. They are my proof.
I grew to like the prose style, when it lightens up a bit, once the story picks up, after the tedious start.
But then came the ending, which I absolutely detested. It destroyed everything for me. So damn gimmicky, so clash-bang-boom. I鈥檇 have to admit that many Gothic novels do end in such a manner, but I was mistakenly thinking鈥攚ow, here is a great Gothic novel that exhibits discernment and intelligence. Dear Hawthorne, it is not always necessary to end with a splash! made the whole book go down the drain for me. I recommend it to nobody. Read instead.
The audiobook is superbly narrated by Anthony Heald. I believe that a really good narrator can make difficult, abstruse prose intelligible. IF you decide you do want to pick this up, I definitely recommend that you listen to it. Be sure to listen to the audiobook narrated Anthony Heald.
When I look back on this novel, I no longer understand how I could have liked it at all.
March 27, 2008
I'm so glad you're dead, Nathaniel Hawthorne.
So this is a classic horror novel in which nothing at all happens for a few hundred pages except the description of some house, an old hag selling oatmeal, and some guy who may or may not have hypnotized the other chick who's boarding there. There might be something scary but I was too busy falling asleep to notice. If Hawthorne were alive, he'd be a zombie, which I'd totally be okay with because then he could get shot in the head by zombie experts. Take that for wasting my time, you dead bastard! One star! Read it and weep!
So this is a classic horror novel in which nothing at all happens for a few hundred pages except the description of some house, an old hag selling oatmeal, and some guy who may or may not have hypnotized the other chick who's boarding there. There might be something scary but I was too busy falling asleep to notice. If Hawthorne were alive, he'd be a zombie, which I'd totally be okay with because then he could get shot in the head by zombie experts. Take that for wasting my time, you dead bastard! One star! Read it and weep!
July 17, 2017
The House of the Seven Gables begins with a preface by the author that identifies the work as a romance, not a novel. That may be the author's preference, but I think most romance fans will be disappointed if they read this book. The book is a classic by a famous American author, so it deserves to be read. Once you finish the book and look over the complete plot, you can see how romantic love has healed a 200-year family curse. Therefore, in that regard it is a romance. However, the experience of reading the book is more like wondering through a dreary haunted labyrinth. I did not find it enjoyable to read.
I suppose the book can be considered a parable with a message aimed at the stiff necked 19th Century New England descendants of the Puritans. They are a people who behave in proper ways, but have an ancestral history of executing their neighbors on trumped up charges of witchcraft. They are haunted by a secret guilt of association because of the actions of their ancestors. The story told by this book is about the Pyncheon family that parallels this New England story at large.
The book's narrative comes as close as possible to being a ghost story while still remaining within the world of realism. I can imagine that a reader who believes in ghosts can come away from this story with the impression that it is indeed about ghosts. Likewise, another reader who doesn't believe in ghosts will say the story is about people who suspect that there may be ghosts in their lives who are intent on mischief. Either way Nathaniel Hawthorne skillfully weaves a family story filled with angst.
One feature of the book that surprised me was the role of Mesmerism (today we call it hypnotism). As described in this book it appears to be occult magic. Likewise, a lot of the melancholia described in this book would today be called clinical depression. Thank goodness for the character of Phoebe in the story. Her young sunny disposition is a breath of fresh air into an otherwise dreary environment. She鈥檚 a reminder of the eternal possibility of renewal brought by young people to human society.
I suppose the book can be considered a parable with a message aimed at the stiff necked 19th Century New England descendants of the Puritans. They are a people who behave in proper ways, but have an ancestral history of executing their neighbors on trumped up charges of witchcraft. They are haunted by a secret guilt of association because of the actions of their ancestors. The story told by this book is about the Pyncheon family that parallels this New England story at large.
The book's narrative comes as close as possible to being a ghost story while still remaining within the world of realism. I can imagine that a reader who believes in ghosts can come away from this story with the impression that it is indeed about ghosts. Likewise, another reader who doesn't believe in ghosts will say the story is about people who suspect that there may be ghosts in their lives who are intent on mischief. Either way Nathaniel Hawthorne skillfully weaves a family story filled with angst.
One feature of the book that surprised me was the role of Mesmerism (today we call it hypnotism). As described in this book it appears to be occult magic. Likewise, a lot of the melancholia described in this book would today be called clinical depression. Thank goodness for the character of Phoebe in the story. Her young sunny disposition is a breath of fresh air into an otherwise dreary environment. She鈥檚 a reminder of the eternal possibility of renewal brought by young people to human society.
February 14, 2024
Back in the early 19th century the idea was to bung as many clauses as possible into your sentences 鈥� if you could interrupt yourself twelve times before the full stop, that was style. Mostly I enjoy the sclerosis of early Victorian prose, it鈥檚 like wading through barb-wired treacle but you knew what you were in for and like spelunking it can be an invigorating challenge.
But Nathaniel Hawthorne - really, this guy is too much. Here he is talking about a little kid who鈥檚 already bought some gingerbread from the shop and now he鈥檚 returned :
Ph艙be, on entering the shop, beheld there the already familiar face of the little devourer鈥攊f we can reckon his mighty deeds aright鈥攐f Jim Crow, the elephant, the camel, the dromedaries, and the locomotive. Having expended his private fortune, on the two preceding days, in the purchase of the above unheard-of luxuries, the young gentleman鈥檚 present errand was on the part of his mother, in quest of three eggs and half a pound of raisins.
This is sickly simpering stuff indeed. 鈥淭he little devourer鈥濃€�.鈥漢is mighty deeds鈥濃€︹€漢is private fortune鈥濃€︹€漸nheard-of luxuries鈥濃€� he is beating this spoofiness to death, it dies horribly long before he gets to the half pound of raisins. He thinks he鈥檚 being kindly-funny when he鈥檚 being revolting. Well, of course, that was the taste in polite humour back then 鈥� patronising little children mercilessly. And he doesn鈥檛 stop laying it on with a trowel :
These articles Ph艙be accordingly supplied, and, as a mark of gratitude for his previous patronage, and a slight super-added morsel after breakfast, put likewise into his hand a whale! The great fish, reversing his experience with the prophet of Nineveh, immediately began his progress down the same red pathway of fate whither so varied a caravan had preceded him.
We are taking the whole first page of chapter 8 to hack through all this arch blathering about a gingerbread whale and the fun stuff about Jonah and the red pathway. And he will not stop wringing every last morsel of hilarity from the small boy.
This remarkable urchin, in truth, was the very emblem of old Father Time, both in respect of his all-devouring appetite for men and things, and because he, as well as Time, after ingulfing thus much of creation, looked almost as youthful as if he had been just that moment made.
Finally the kid leaves 鈥� phew, maybe we can get back on track now.
As the child went down the steps, a gentleman ascended them, and made his entrance into the shop.
Okay 鈥� a new character. Ah, wait 鈥� in 1850 that meant that you had to spend a page describing what he鈥檚 wearing because no one in those days knew what anything looked like.
It was the portly, and, had it possessed the advantage of a little more height, would have been the stately figure of a man considerably in the decline of life, dressed in a black suit of some thin stuff, resembling broadcloth as closely as possible. A gold-headed cane, of rare Oriental wood, added materially to the high respectability of his aspect, as did also a neckcloth of the utmost snowy purity, and the conscientious polish of his boots. His dark, square countenance, with its almost shaggy depth of eyebrows, was naturally impressive, and would, perhaps, have been rather stern, had not the gentleman considerately taken upon himself to mitigate the harsh effect by a look of exceeding good-humor and benevolence. Owing, however, to a somewhat massive accumulation of animal substance about the lower region of his face, the look was, perhaps, unctuous rather than spiritual, and had, so to speak, a kind of fleshly effulgence, not altogether so satisfactory as he doubtless intended it to be. A susceptible observer, at any rate, might have regarded it as affording very little evidence of the general benignity of soul whereof it purported to be the outward reflection. And if the observer chanced to be ill-natured, as well as acute and susceptible, he would probably suspect that the smile on the gentleman鈥檚 face was a good deal akin to the shine on his boots, and that each must have cost him and his boot-black, respectively, a good deal of hard labor to bring out and preserve them.
My dear fellow goodreaders, this was page 116 and I could take it no more. Congratulations to the steelier readers who finished this novel with their sanity intact. I decamped for the austere pages of Wikipedia where I read the Plot Summary. And ugh, what thin gruel it was. All that for this?
The DNFs come thick and fast. Will I actually finish a novel this year?
But Nathaniel Hawthorne - really, this guy is too much. Here he is talking about a little kid who鈥檚 already bought some gingerbread from the shop and now he鈥檚 returned :
Ph艙be, on entering the shop, beheld there the already familiar face of the little devourer鈥攊f we can reckon his mighty deeds aright鈥攐f Jim Crow, the elephant, the camel, the dromedaries, and the locomotive. Having expended his private fortune, on the two preceding days, in the purchase of the above unheard-of luxuries, the young gentleman鈥檚 present errand was on the part of his mother, in quest of three eggs and half a pound of raisins.
This is sickly simpering stuff indeed. 鈥淭he little devourer鈥濃€�.鈥漢is mighty deeds鈥濃€︹€漢is private fortune鈥濃€︹€漸nheard-of luxuries鈥濃€� he is beating this spoofiness to death, it dies horribly long before he gets to the half pound of raisins. He thinks he鈥檚 being kindly-funny when he鈥檚 being revolting. Well, of course, that was the taste in polite humour back then 鈥� patronising little children mercilessly. And he doesn鈥檛 stop laying it on with a trowel :
These articles Ph艙be accordingly supplied, and, as a mark of gratitude for his previous patronage, and a slight super-added morsel after breakfast, put likewise into his hand a whale! The great fish, reversing his experience with the prophet of Nineveh, immediately began his progress down the same red pathway of fate whither so varied a caravan had preceded him.
We are taking the whole first page of chapter 8 to hack through all this arch blathering about a gingerbread whale and the fun stuff about Jonah and the red pathway. And he will not stop wringing every last morsel of hilarity from the small boy.
This remarkable urchin, in truth, was the very emblem of old Father Time, both in respect of his all-devouring appetite for men and things, and because he, as well as Time, after ingulfing thus much of creation, looked almost as youthful as if he had been just that moment made.
Finally the kid leaves 鈥� phew, maybe we can get back on track now.
As the child went down the steps, a gentleman ascended them, and made his entrance into the shop.
Okay 鈥� a new character. Ah, wait 鈥� in 1850 that meant that you had to spend a page describing what he鈥檚 wearing because no one in those days knew what anything looked like.
It was the portly, and, had it possessed the advantage of a little more height, would have been the stately figure of a man considerably in the decline of life, dressed in a black suit of some thin stuff, resembling broadcloth as closely as possible. A gold-headed cane, of rare Oriental wood, added materially to the high respectability of his aspect, as did also a neckcloth of the utmost snowy purity, and the conscientious polish of his boots. His dark, square countenance, with its almost shaggy depth of eyebrows, was naturally impressive, and would, perhaps, have been rather stern, had not the gentleman considerately taken upon himself to mitigate the harsh effect by a look of exceeding good-humor and benevolence. Owing, however, to a somewhat massive accumulation of animal substance about the lower region of his face, the look was, perhaps, unctuous rather than spiritual, and had, so to speak, a kind of fleshly effulgence, not altogether so satisfactory as he doubtless intended it to be. A susceptible observer, at any rate, might have regarded it as affording very little evidence of the general benignity of soul whereof it purported to be the outward reflection. And if the observer chanced to be ill-natured, as well as acute and susceptible, he would probably suspect that the smile on the gentleman鈥檚 face was a good deal akin to the shine on his boots, and that each must have cost him and his boot-black, respectively, a good deal of hard labor to bring out and preserve them.
My dear fellow goodreaders, this was page 116 and I could take it no more. Congratulations to the steelier readers who finished this novel with their sanity intact. I decamped for the austere pages of Wikipedia where I read the Plot Summary. And ugh, what thin gruel it was. All that for this?
The DNFs come thick and fast. Will I actually finish a novel this year?
March 24, 2025
The House of the Seven Gables by Nathanial Hawthorne is a classic that was written subsequent to one of my favorite classic books, The Scarlet Letter. The House of the Seven Gables revolves around a family cursed by a wronged man, Mathew Maul, of accused, tried and convicted of witchcraft and the seizure of his land upon which they built their mansion, the House of the Seven Gables. The tale links the misdeeds of Colonel Jaffrey Pyncheon to the subsequent misfortunes of the Pyncheon family as the portrait of Colonel Pyncheon looms ominously over the Pyncheon family. While for the most part, I was enthralled in the narrative and the beautiful writing, there were times that I became weary. But all in all, it was a book that I was happy that I read.
In the preface, Nathanial Hawthorne informs us that we are reading a Romance as opposed to a Novel. And as he tells us, when a writer calls his work a Romance he is claiming a certain latitude which he would not have felt himself entitled to assume had he been writing a Novel.
And what I found interesting is that there is a House of the Seven Gables built in 1668 by John Turner on Salem Harbor, designated a National Historic Landmark District in 2007. The House of the Seven Gables is best known as the inspiration for the renowned author Nathaniel Hawthorne鈥檚 1851 novel. It should also be noted that Nathaniel Hawthorne had a distant relation involved in the Salem witch trials which probably added additional interest in the writing of this gothic novel.
In the preface, Nathanial Hawthorne informs us that we are reading a Romance as opposed to a Novel. And as he tells us, when a writer calls his work a Romance he is claiming a certain latitude which he would not have felt himself entitled to assume had he been writing a Novel.
鈥淭he point of view in which this tale comes under the Romantic definition lies in the attempt to connect a bygone time with the very present that is flitting away from us. It is a legend prolonging itself, from an epoch now gray in the distance, down into our own broad daylight, and bringing along with it some of its legendary mist, which the reader, according to his pleasure, may either disregard, or allow it to float almost imperceptibly about the characters and events for the sake of a picturesque effect. The narrative, it may be, is woven of so humble a texture as to require this advantage, and, at the same time, to render it the more difficult of attainment.鈥�
And what I found interesting is that there is a House of the Seven Gables built in 1668 by John Turner on Salem Harbor, designated a National Historic Landmark District in 2007. The House of the Seven Gables is best known as the inspiration for the renowned author Nathaniel Hawthorne鈥檚 1851 novel. It should also be noted that Nathaniel Hawthorne had a distant relation involved in the Salem witch trials which probably added additional interest in the writing of this gothic novel.
鈥淲e have already hinted that it is not our purpose to trace down the history of the Pyncheon family, in its unbroken connection with the House of the Seven Gables; nor to show, as in a magic picture, how the rustiness and infirmity of age gathered over the venerable house itself.鈥�
鈥淔or, what other dungeon is so dark as one鈥檚 own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one鈥檚 self!鈥�
November 13, 2013
I adore this book. I recall reading it for the first time in my twenties, picking it up at random and being amazed how lively and picturesque the writing was, so different from the dreary Scarlet Letter I remembered from high school. The decline of the Pyncheon family after the curse of old man Maule, a fiercely independent man who鈥檇 staked a claim on land and a certain well which the progenitor of the Pyncheon clan, the old Puritan, desired to have for his own. Eventually he'd had Maule hung for a witch, so that he could come into possession of that acreage to build a fine house for his own family, but which came with a curse from the dead man. This curse played out through the generations of Pyncheons, to land in its final decline with old spinster Hepzibah, a mysterious relative and a young girl who arrives from the country, the final generation of Pyncheons to share the House of the Seven Gables.
What is especially interesting about this book, besides the fine writing and the wonderful characterizations, is the framework of the novel, in which destiny is written out over the grave of some indelible wrong, touching everyone who came after--in this case, literally on the same plot of land. Hawthorne was the grandson of one of the judges at the Salem Witch Trials, and the legacy hung as heavy over him as the legacy of slavery over the writers of the Southern Gothic tradition. He gave his name an e not to share the same appellation as his ancestor. The past, Faulkner said, is not really over. It's not even past. Love the spookiness and the charm of this book, which he called a Romance rather than a tragedy, for the themes of the resilience of the weak, and the primacy of the living. A lovely book whose delights have been too long ignored.
What is especially interesting about this book, besides the fine writing and the wonderful characterizations, is the framework of the novel, in which destiny is written out over the grave of some indelible wrong, touching everyone who came after--in this case, literally on the same plot of land. Hawthorne was the grandson of one of the judges at the Salem Witch Trials, and the legacy hung as heavy over him as the legacy of slavery over the writers of the Southern Gothic tradition. He gave his name an e not to share the same appellation as his ancestor. The past, Faulkner said, is not really over. It's not even past. Love the spookiness and the charm of this book, which he called a Romance rather than a tragedy, for the themes of the resilience of the weak, and the primacy of the living. A lovely book whose delights have been too long ignored.
June 3, 2007
Hawthorne is the equivalent of nudging someone and winking without actually thinking of anything interesting, risque, beautiful, or even useful. It is sad that a man with such a voluminous writing ability was seemingly devoid of any notion of what to do with it.
June 17, 2018
I鈥檒l admit that I am not a big fan of some of Hawthorne鈥檚 writing. At the beginning of the book it was slow going and hard for me to get into. But I stuck it out.
The things I did like about the story were the gothic undertones. If Hawthorne had focused more on those, I might have liked the story better.
I am not giving up on Hawthorne yet. Eventually I will get to the 鈥淢arbel Faun鈥�.
The things I did like about the story were the gothic undertones. If Hawthorne had focused more on those, I might have liked the story better.
I am not giving up on Hawthorne yet. Eventually I will get to the 鈥淢arbel Faun鈥�.
review-of-the-year
August 21, 2019Oh Nathaniel Hawthorne, I respect you, your time, your life, and your day, but reading one of your sentences in your carefully, long-winded, written stories wears me out. KO
馃樀
One of these days I'll make it though, Mr Hawthorne ....
馃樀
One of these days I'll make it though, Mr Hawthorne ....
September 27, 2018
渭蔚 蟺伪委未蔚蠄蔚 蟺慰位蠉 伪谓伪纬谓蠅蟽蟿喂魏维 伪位位维 蔚委蠂蔚 蟿伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 渭喂伪 蟺蔚蟻委蔚蟻纬畏 纬慰畏蟿蔚委伪 蟺慰蠀 蟽蠀谓慰位喂魏维 渭蔚 魏苇蟻未喂蟽蔚.
full review to come
full review to come
February 20, 2022
It could the more adequately be known that the soul of the man must have suffered some miserable wrong, from its earthly experience. There he seemed to sit, with a dim veil of decay and ruin betwixt him and the world, but through which, at flitting intervals, might be caught the same expression, so refined, so softly imaginative, which Malbone鈥攙enturing a happy touch, with suspended breath 鈥攈ad imparted to the miniature! There had been something so innately characteristic in this look, that all the dusky years, and the burden of unfit calamity which had fallen upon him, did not suffice utterly to destroy it.
*
Indeed, all the enjoyments of this period were provocative of tears. Coming so late as it did, it was a kind of Indian summer, with a mist in its balmiest sunshine, and decay and death in its gaudiest delight. The more Clifford seemed to taste the happiness of a child, the sadder was the difference to be recognized. With a mysterious and terrible Past, which had annihilated his memory, and a blank Future before him, he had only this visionary and impalpable Now, which, if you once look closely at it, is nothing.
*
But, as the sunlight left the peaks of the Seven Gables, so did the excitement fade out of Clifford's eyes. He gazed vaguely and mournfully about him, as if he missed something precious, and missed it the more drearily for not knowing precisely what it was. "I want my happiness!" at last he murmured hoarsely and indistinctly, hardly Shaping out the words. "Many, many years have I waited for it! It is late! It is late! I want my happiness!"
*
Indeed, all the enjoyments of this period were provocative of tears. Coming so late as it did, it was a kind of Indian summer, with a mist in its balmiest sunshine, and decay and death in its gaudiest delight. The more Clifford seemed to taste the happiness of a child, the sadder was the difference to be recognized. With a mysterious and terrible Past, which had annihilated his memory, and a blank Future before him, he had only this visionary and impalpable Now, which, if you once look closely at it, is nothing.
*
But, as the sunlight left the peaks of the Seven Gables, so did the excitement fade out of Clifford's eyes. He gazed vaguely and mournfully about him, as if he missed something precious, and missed it the more drearily for not knowing precisely what it was. "I want my happiness!" at last he murmured hoarsely and indistinctly, hardly Shaping out the words. "Many, many years have I waited for it! It is late! It is late! I want my happiness!"
March 4, 2018
韦慰 1850 慰 螡伪胃伪谓喂蔚位 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蠈谓蟿伪蟼 伪蟺慰纬慰畏蟿蔚蠀渭苇谓慰蟼 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 伪喂蠁谓委未喂伪 伪蟺蠈位蠀蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蔚蟻纬伪蟽委伪 蟿慰蠀 蠅蟼 蔚蟺喂胃蔚蠅蟻畏蟿萎 蟽蟿慰 韦蔚位蠅谓蔚委慰 蟿慰蠀 危蔚喂位蔚渭 蟿畏蟼 螠伪蟽伪蠂慰蠀蟽苇蟿畏蟼, 渭喂伪 伪蟺蠈蠁伪蟽畏 蟺慰蠀 慰 委未喂慰蟼 魏伪喂 维位位蔚蟼 蟺蟻慰蟽蠅蟺喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 蟿蠅谓 纬蟻伪渭渭维蟿蠅谓 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 蟿蔚蠂谓蠋谓 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟺慰蠂萎蟼 伪蟺苇未蠅蟽伪谓 蟽蔚 蟽魏慰蟺喂渭蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 蟺慰位喂蟿喂魏蠋谓 蟿慰蠀 伪谓蟿喂蟺维位蠅谓, 渭蔚蟿伪魏慰渭委味蔚喂 蟽蟿慰 螞蔚谓慰尉, 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 蟺伪蟻伪胃蔚蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠈 魏苇谓蟿蟻慰 蟿畏蟼 蟺蔚蟻喂慰蠂萎蟼 蟽蟿慰 蠈蟺慰喂慰 蟽蠀蠂谓维味慰蠀谓 未喂伪谓慰慰蠉渭蔚谓慰喂, 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁蔚委蟼, 蟺慰喂畏蟿苇蟼 蠈蟺蠅蟼 慰 螠苇位尾喂位 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 蠈蟺慰喂慰 蟽蠀谓未苇蔚蟿伪喂 蠁喂位喂魏维, 伪谓蟿伪位位维蟽蟽慰谓蟿伪蟼 伪蟺蠈蠄蔚喂蟼, 尾喂尾位委伪 魏伪喂 蟺慰位蠉蠅蟻蔚蟼 蟽蠀味畏蟿萎蟽蔚喂蟼 纬喂伪 蠈鈥櫹勎� 渭蟺慰蟻蔚委 谓伪 蠁伪谓蟿伪蟽蟿蔚委 魏伪谓蔚委蟼. 螒谓 魏 伪蟺慰纬慰畏蟿蔚蠀蟿喂魏萎 纬喂伪 蟿慰谓 围慰胃慰蟻谓 畏 蟺蔚蟻委慰未慰蟼 蔚魏蔚委谓畏 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 蟿伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 纬慰谓喂渭蠈蟿蔚蟻畏 魏伪喂 纬喂伪 蟿慰蠀蟼 未蠀慰 蠈蟽慰谓 伪蠁慰蟻维 蟿畏谓 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁喂魏萎 未蟻伪蟽蟿畏蟻喂蠈蟿畏蟿伪 魏伪胃蠋蟼 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 渭喂伪 慰 渭蔚谓 螠蔚位尾喂位 蟽蠀纬纬蟻维蠁蔚喂 蟿慰 蔚蟺喂魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蠉蟻纬畏渭伪 鈥樜溛课枷€蠀 螡蟿喂魏鈥� , 慰 未蔚 围慰胃慰蟻谓 苇蠂慰谓蟿伪蟼 畏未畏 蟺伪蟻伪未蠋蟽蔚喂 蟿慰 蝿螒位喂魏慰 螕蟻维渭渭伪鈥� 魏伪蟿伪蟺喂维谓蔚蟿伪喂 渭蔚 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿伪 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻萎渭伪蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 魏伪喂 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿伪 蔚蟺喂未蟻伪蟽蟿喂魏慰蟿蔚蟻伪 蟿畏蟼 螕慰蟿胃喂魏萎蟼 螞慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪蟼, 蟿慰 鈥樜Ｏ€委蟿喂 渭蔚 蟿伪 螘蠁蟿伪 螒蔚蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪'!
韦慰 蟽蠀纬魏蔚魏蟻喂渭苇谓慰 蟽蟺委蟿喂 未蔚谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬萎胃畏魏蔚 蟽蟿慰 蔚蠀蠁维谓蟿伪蟽蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 伪谓蟿喂胃苇蟿蠅蟼 蟿慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蟻魏蔚蟿维 慰喂魏蔚委慰 魏伪胃蠋蟼 蟿慰 1804 畏 未蔚蠉蟿蔚蟻畏 尉伪未苇蟻蠁畏 蟿慰蠀 危慰蠀味伪谓伪 螜纬魏蔚蟻蟽慰位 魏位畏蟻慰谓蠈渭畏蟽蔚 蟿慰 慰委魏畏渭伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 蟺伪蟿苇蟻伪 蟿畏蟼 蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 伪谓萎魏蔚 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺慰蠂萎 蟺慰蠀 蠂蟿委蟽胃畏魏蔚 (1867) 蟽蟿慰谓 魏伪蟺蔚蟿维谓喂慰 韦味慰谓 韦蔚蟻谓蔚蟻 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪蟺慰纬蠈谓慰蠀蟼 蟿慰蠀. 危蟿喂蟼 伪蟻蠂苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 20慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 伪谓伪魏伪喂谓委蟽蟿畏魏蔚 魏伪喂 蟽萎渭蔚蟻伪 位蔚喂蟿慰蠀蟻纬蔚喂 蠅蟼 渭慰蠀蟽蔚委慰 渭蔚 未喂维蠁慰蟻伪 events 谓伪 蟽蠀渭尾伪委谓慰蠀谓 蟽蟿慰谓 蔚蟽蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏蠈 蠂蠋蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 渭蔚 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈蟿蔚蟻慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰蠀 螣魏蟿蠅尾蟻委慰蠀 蟽蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰 味蠅谓蟿伪谓蔚蠉慰蠀谓 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿伪 渭维蟿喂伪 蟿蠅谓 蔚蟺喂蟽魏蔚蟺蟿蠋谓 慰喂 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏慰委 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀!.. 危蟿喂蟼 蟽蟺慰蟻伪未喂魏苇蟼 位慰喂蟺蠈谓 蔚蟺喂蟽魏苇蠄蔚喂蟼 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蟽蟿慰 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 危蔚喂位蔚渭 鈥撓勎肺� 蟺蔚蟻委慰未慰 蔚魏蔚委谓畏 蟿慰 蟽蟺委蟿喂 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位慰蠉谓蟿伪谓 渭慰谓维蠂伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿蟻委伪 伪蔚蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪- 魏 蟽蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏苇蟼 伪谓伪蠁慰蟻苇蟼 蟿畏蟼 尉伪未苇蟻蠁畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺慰蠂萎 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰 蔚蟺喂尾位畏蟿喂魏蠈 蟽蟺委蟿喂 蟽蟿蔚蠁伪谓蠋谓慰谓蟿伪谓 伪蟺蠈 蔚蟺蟿维 伪蔚蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪 慰 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓慰蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼 蠈蠂喂 渭蠈谓慰 纬慰畏蟿蔚蠉蟿畏魏蔚 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蟺伪位位蠈渭蔚谓畏 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 魏伪蟻未喂维 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 伪位位维 蔚渭蟺谓蔚蠉蟽蟿畏魏蔚 魏伪喂 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿伪 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 苇蟻纬伪 蟿慰蠀.
蝿蝿 It was itself like a great human heart, with a life of its own, and full of rich and sombre reminisces 鈥樷€� Nathaniel Hawthorne.
螆谓伪 维位位慰 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 蟺慰蠀 蔚蟺畏蟻苇伪蟽蔚 蟿慰谓 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蟽蟿畏谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬委伪 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 畏蟿伪谓 慰喂 蟺蔚蟻喂尾蠈畏蟿蔚蟼 螖委魏蔚蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠伪纬喂蟽蟽蠋谓 蟽蟿慰 危蔚喂位蔚渭 (桅蔚尾 1692-螠伪喂慰蟼 1693), 蟽蟿喂蟼 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维蟻畏蟼 蠀蟺萎蟻尉蔚 慰 John Hathorne 鈥� 苇渭蟺慰蟻慰蟼, 蔚喂蟻畏谓慰未委魏畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟺蟻蠈纬慰谓慰蟼 蟿慰蠀 螡伪胃伪谓喂蔚位- 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿苇位畏尉伪谓 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚魏蟿苇位蔚蟽畏, 蟽蟿畏谓 魏蟻蔚渭维位伪 魏 蟽蟿畏谓 蠁蠀位维魏喂蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻慰蠉渭蔚谓蠅谓.螝维蟺蠅蟼 苇蟿蟽喂 伪蟻蠂委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 畏 蟺位慰魏萎 蟿慰蠀 苇蟻纬慰蠀 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺蠈位畏 蟿畏蟼 螡苇伪蟼 螒纬纬位委伪蟼..螣 纬蔚蟻蠈 螠伪胃喂慰蠀 螠慰位 谓蠈渭喂渭慰蟼 魏维蟿慰蠂慰蟼 渭喂伪 蠁蟿蠅蠂喂魏萎蟼 魏伪位蠉尾伪蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 渭蔚蟿蔚蟺蔚喂蟿伪 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 危蟿蟻喂蟿 蟽苇蟻谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蟿伪 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎蟻喂伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 危蠀谓蟿伪纬渭伪蟿维蟻蠂畏 螤蠀谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻委伪 蟿畏蟼 渭伪纬蔚委伪蟼, 蔚谓 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蔚委伪 魏伪蟿伪蠂蟻维蟿伪喂 蟿慰 蟺蔚谓喂蠂蟻蠈 慰委魏畏渭伪 渭蔚蟿伪蟿蟻苇蟺慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 伪谓蟿维尉喂伪 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼 胃苇蟽畏蟼 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 魏 慰 维蟿蠀蠂慰蟼 螠慰位 蔚魏蟿蔚位蔚委蟿伪喂 渭蔚 伪蟺伪纬蠂慰谓喂蟽渭蠈. 螤蟻慰蟿慰蠉 尉蔚蠄蠀蠂萎蟽蔚喂 蟺蟻慰位伪尾伪委谓蔚喂 谓伪 尉蔚蟽蟿慰渭委蟽蔚喂 苇谓伪 伪谓维胃蔚渭伪 蟺蟻慰蟼 蟿慰谓 蔚蠂胃蟻蠈 蟿慰蠀, 渭喂伪 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪 纬喂伪 蟿喂蟼 渭蔚位位慰谓蟿喂魏苇蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 蟿蠅谓 螤蠀谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 伪蟺慰魏蟻蠉蟺蟿慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 苇谓伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏蠈 -魏伪喂 未喂伪蟿畏蟻蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 蔚谓 纬谓蠋蟽蔚喂 蟽蟿喂蟼 伪魏蠈位慰蠀胃蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位- 渭蠀胃蠋未畏蟼 蠂蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏萎蟼 维尉喂伪蟼. 螣 未蔚 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰蟼 喂未喂慰魏蟿萎蟿畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 螒蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏慰蠉 尾蟻委蟽魏蔚蟿伪喂 尉伪蠁谓喂魏维 魏 伪谓伪委蟿喂伪 谓蔚魏蟻蠈蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺慰位蠀胃蟻蠈谓伪 蟿慰蠀, 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟽蠀谓蔚蟽蟿委伪蟽畏 渭蔚 蔚蟺喂蠁伪谓蔚委蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀蟼 蟿畏谓 蟺蠈位畏蟼, 蔚蟺伪位畏胃蔚蠉慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰谓 蠂蟻畏蟽渭蠈 蟿慰蠀 螠慰位.
螚 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪渭蟺蠈蟽蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 螠慰位 魏伪喂 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 伪蟻纬蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 魏 蟽蔚 蔚谓蔚蟽蟿蠋蟿伪 蠂蟻蠈谓慰 蟽蟿畏谓 慰位喂纬慰渭蔚位萎 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委伪 纬蔚谓喂维 蟿蠅谓 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蠈蟺慰蠀 蟽蟿慰 蠁蟿蠅蠂喂魏蠈 蟺位苇慰谓 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 未喂伪渭苇谓慰蠀谓 魏伪蟿鈥� 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎谓 蟿慰蠀蟼: 畏 蟺伪蟻蔚尉畏纬萎蟽喂渭畏 纬喂伪 蟿慰谓 蔚纬魏位蔚喂蟽渭蠈 蟿畏蟼 伪蟺蠈 渭喂伪 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪 未蠀蟽伪谓蔚魏蟿喂魏萎 蟽蔚 慰蝿蟿喂 未蔚谓 蔚尉畏纬蔚委蟿伪喂 蟽蠉渭蠁蠅谓伪 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 未喂魏维 蟿畏蟼 蟺蟻蠈蟿蠀蟺伪, 渭伪 伪纬伪蟺畏蟿萎 魏伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟿喂魏萎 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿蔚蟼 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蠀蟿伪蟺维蟻谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 胃伪位蟺蠅蟻萎 蟿畏蟼, 畏 渭蠀蠅蟺喂魏萎 维蟽蠂畏渭畏 纬蟻喂维 螘蠄喂尾伪, 慰 伪未蔚位蠁蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 螝位喂蠁慰蟻谓蟿, 苇谓伪蟼 蟽蠀尾伪蟻委蟿畏蟼, 位维蟿蟻畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 蠅蟻伪委慰蠀 渭蔚 渭蠀伪位蠈 渭喂魏蟻慰蠉 蟺伪喂未喂慰蠉 慰 慰蟺慰委慰蟼 渭蔚蟿维 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰蠁蠀位维魏喂蟽畏 未蔚谓 蟺伪蟻伪尾纬伪委谓蔚喂 蟺慰蟿苇 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻委渭蔚蟿蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 蟺伪蟻维 渭蠈谓慰 蟽蟿畏谓 蟽蟿慰位喂蟽渭苇谓畏 伪蟺蠈 蟺蔚谓蟿维渭慰蟻蠁伪 位慰蠀位慰蠉未喂伪 渭蔚蟽伪蠀位畏, 畏 伪谓喂蠄喂维 蟿慰蠀蟼 畏 桅慰喂尾畏 畏 蠈蟺慰喂伪 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蟺喂蟽魏苇蟺蟿蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 苇谓伪谓 伪位位慰蟿喂谓蠈 蟿蠈蟺慰 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 蠈蟺蠅蟼 慰 萎位喂慰蟼 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 胃伪蠀渭伪蟿慰蠀蟻纬苇蟼 畏位喂伪蠂蟿委未蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀 谓伪 蠁蠅蟿委蟽蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 蔚蠀蠂维蟻喂蟽蟿畏 蟺蟿蠀蠂萎 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蟽伪谓 渭喂伪 蠈渭慰蟻蠁畏 谓蔚蟻维喂未伪 蟺慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿慰 渭喂魏蟻蠈 渭伪纬喂魏蠈 蟻伪尾未维魏喂 蟿畏蟼 谓喂蠈蟿畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 未委谓蔚喂 渭喂伪 慰位慰魏伪委谓慰蠀蟻喂伪 蠀蟺蠈蟽蟿伪蟽畏 蟽蔚 蠈位伪 蟿伪 蠀蟺维蟻蠂慰谓蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 魏伪喂 苇谓伪蟼 渭蠀蟽蟿畏蟻喂蠋未畏蟼 未伪纬魏蔚蟻慰蟿蠀蟺畏蟼 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 慰蟺慰喂慰 蟽蠀渭蟺位畏蟻蠋谓蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 蟿慰 蟺维味位 蟿蠅谓 伪喂谓喂纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蠅谓 蟺慰蠀 蟺位维胃蔚喂 渭蔚 蟿蠈蟽畏 渭伪蔚蟽蟿蟻委伪 魏 蔚尉伪喂蟻蔚蟿喂魏维 渭蔚纬维位慰 味萎位慰 慰 围慰胃慰蟻谓.
螒蟻魏蔚蟿维 蟺喂慰 蟺苇蟻伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 慰未蠈 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺位慰蠀蟽喂慰蟺维蟻慰蠂畏 苇蟺伪蠀位畏 未喂伪渭苇谓蔚喂 苇谓伪蟼 维位位慰蟼 尉维未蔚位蠁慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 螘蠄喂尾伪, 慰 螖喂魏伪蟽蟿萎蟼 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟺慰蠀 伪谓伪渭蠁委尾慰位伪 胃伪 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽伪渭蔚 谓伪 蟺慰蠉渭蔚 蠈蟿喂 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 蟿畏谓 蟽蠉纬魏伪喂蟻畏 渭蔚蟿蔚谓蟽维蟻魏蠅蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪谓慰蠉蟻纬慰蠀 螤慰蠀蟻喂蟿伪谓慰蠉 危蠀谓蟿伪纬渭伪蟿维蟻蠂畏 蠈蠂喂 渭蠈谓慰 蠁蠀蟽喂慰纬谓蠅渭喂魏维 魏伪喂 纬喂伪蟿委 蠂伪委蟻蔚喂 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 蔚魏蟿委渭畏蟽畏蟼 位蠈纬蠅 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 胃苇蟽畏蟼 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 蠈蟺慰喂伪 蔚委谓伪喂 蔚谓未蔚未蠀渭苇谓慰蟼 鈥撐何蔽� 伪位蠀蟽慰未蔚渭苇谓慰蟼 胃伪 位苇纬伪渭蔚 蔚渭蔚委蟼- 伪位位维 未喂蠈蟿喂 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 渭慰谓伪未喂魏蠈蟼 蟺慰蠀 伪纬蠅谓委味蔚蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 蟿慰蠀 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏慰蠉 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位 魏伪喂 魏蠀蟻委蠅蟼 未喂慰蟿喂 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 渭慰谓伪未喂魏蠈蟼 蠀蟺蔚蠉胃蠀谓慰蟼 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蔚委伪 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪蟻维未慰蟽畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 鈥樷€櫸课刮合屜兾肺嘉肯呪€欌€� 蟿蠅谓 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟽蟿喂蟼 蔚蟺蠈渭蔚谓蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼. 螤蟻慰尾位畏渭伪蟿喂蟽渭苇谓慰蟼 慰 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蔚蠉蟽蟿慰蠂伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟿畏蟻蔚委 蠈蟿喂 蔚魏蟿蠈蟼 蟿蠅谓 蠁蠀蟽喂魏蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺慰蟻蔚委 谓伪 渭蔚蟿伪尾喂尾维味慰谓蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 纬蔚谓喂维 蟽蔚 纬蔚谓喂维 渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪喂 渭蔚 未喂伪蠁慰蟻蔚蟿喂魏苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟺喂慰 蟽委纬慰蠀蟻蔚蟼 未喂伪未喂魏伪蟽委蔚蟼 蔚位伪蟿蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪 , 伪未蠀谓伪渭委蔚蟼, 未蠈位喂伪 蟺维胃畏, 未蠀蟽慰委蠅谓蔚蟼 蟺蟻慰蠁畏蟿蔚委蔚蟼. 螕喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蟺蠈魏蟿畏蟽畏 渭喂伪蟼 渭蠈谓喂渭畏蟼 魏伪蟿慰喂魏委伪蟼 魏伪喂 维位位蠅谓 伪纬伪胃蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 渭喂伪 蠄蔚蠀未伪委蟽胃畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蔚蠀蟿蠀蠂委伪蟼 慰 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 未喂伪蟿蔚胃蔚喂渭苇谓慰蟼 谓伪 未喂伪蟺蟻维尉蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 伪谓畏胃喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪, 蟿慰 慰蟺慰喂伪未萎蟺慰蟿蔚 畏胃喂魏蠈 萎 蟺慰喂谓喂魏蠈 苇纬魏位畏渭伪, 谓伪 伪谓慰委尉蔚喂 蠅蟼 维位位畏 蟺慰谓畏蟻萎 螤伪谓未蠅蟻伪 蟿慰 魏慰蠀蟿委 蟿蠅谓 未喂魏蠋谓 蟿慰蠀 蟽蠀渭蠁慰蟻蠋谓.
螌蟽慰 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蠁蠀蟽喂魏萎 蟺伪蟻慰蠀蟽委伪 蟿畏蟼 蟽蠉纬蠂蟻慰谓畏蟼 纬蔚谓喂维蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位 伪蟼 渭伪蟼 蔚蟺喂蟿蟻伪蟺蔚委 谓伪 魏蟻伪蟿萎蟽慰蠀渭蔚 魏 蔚渭蔚委蟼 苇谓伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟽蠀渭渭蔚蟿苇蠂慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟽蟿慰 渭蠀蟽蟿萎蟻喂慰 蟿畏蟼 魏伪位慰纬蟻伪渭渭苇谓畏蟼 伪蠀蟿萎蟼 螜蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼. 危蔚 未喂维蠁慰蟻蔚蟼 伪谓伪未蟻慰渭苇蟼 维位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蟽蟿慰 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓 蔚蟻蠂蠈渭伪蟽蟿蔚 蟽蔚 蔚蟺伪蠁萎 渭蔚 魏伪喂谓慰蠁伪谓萎 蔚纬魏位萎渭伪蟿伪, 蟺伪蟻伪未蠈蟽蔚喂蟼, 蟺蟻慰魏伪蟿伪位萎蠄蔚喂蟼, 味萎位喂蔚蟼, 伪谓蟿喂蟺伪位蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 魏伪喂 渭苇蟽蠅 伪蠀蟿蠋谓 渭蔚 维位位伪 伪尉喂慰渭谓畏渭蠈谓蔚蠀蟿伪 渭苇位畏 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 未蠀慰 慰喂魏慰纬蔚谓蔚喂蠋谓.
韦伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 未喂维蟺位伪蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 蠅蟻委渭伪谓蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏萎蟼 蟺位慰魏萎蟼 未喂伪蟿蠀蟺蠋谓蔚蟿伪喂 魏 渭喂伪 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺蔚喂魏蠈谓喂蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟺慰蠂萎蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪蟼 蟿畏蟼 螡蔚伪蟼 螒纬纬位喂伪蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏蟼 喂未喂慰蟽蠀纬魏蟻伪蟽委伪蟼 蟿蠅谓 魏维蟿慰喂魏蠅谓 蟿畏蟼. 螚 喂魏伪谓蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蠅蟽蟿蠈蟽慰 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 谓伪 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠉蔚喂 蟽蟿伪 渭蠉蠂喂伪 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟻蔚尾蠋未慰蠀蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼 魏维胃蔚 伪喂谓喂纬渭伪蟿喂魏慰蠉 萎 蟺蔚蟻喂胃蠅蟻喂伪魏慰蠉 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀 鈥� 魏伪喂 蟺维谓蟿伪 蟽蔚 蟽蠉纬魏蟻慰蠀蟽畏 渭蔚 蟿伪 渭维蟿喂伪 渭喂伪蟼 渭喂魏蟻蠈谓慰蠀蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪蟼 - 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 蟺慰蠀 蔚谓蟿蠀蟺蠅蟽喂维味蔚喂 蟿慰谓 未喂慰蟻伪蟿喂魏蠈 魏伪喂 苇魏蟺位畏魏蟿慰 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏. 螣 围慰胃慰蟻谓 伪谓伪未蔚喂魏谓蠉蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蟿苇蠂谓畏 蟿慰蠀 纬蟻伪蟺蟿慰蠉 位蠈纬慰蠀 蠈蟺慰蠀 畏 维蟻蟿喂伪 蟽蠀纬魏蟻慰蟿畏渭苇谓畏 魏伪喂 尾伪胃蠀蟽蟿蠈蠂伪蟽蟿畏 蟽魏苇蠄畏 蔚委谓伪喂 蟿伪 魏蠀蟻委伪 蟽蠀蟽蟿伪蟿喂魏维 渭喂伪蟼 蟽蠀谓蔚蟺慰蠉蟼 蟺伪蟻伪蟿畏蟻畏蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟿蠈蟽慰 纬慰萎蟿蔚蠀蟽蔚 魏伪喂 蟿慰谓 螠蔚位尾喂位 伪谓伪魏畏蟻蠉蟽蟽慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰谓 蠅蟼 苇谓伪谓 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰蠀蟼 蟺喂慰 慰位慰魏位畏蟻蠅渭苇谓慰蠀蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁蔚委蟼 蟿畏蟼 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓喂魏畏蟼 螞慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪蟼.
韦慰 蟽蠀纬魏蔚魏蟻喂渭苇谓慰 蟽蟺委蟿喂 未蔚谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬萎胃畏魏蔚 蟽蟿慰 蔚蠀蠁维谓蟿伪蟽蟿慰 渭蠀伪位蠈 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 伪谓蟿喂胃苇蟿蠅蟼 蟿慰蠀 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蟻魏蔚蟿维 慰喂魏蔚委慰 魏伪胃蠋蟼 蟿慰 1804 畏 未蔚蠉蟿蔚蟻畏 尉伪未苇蟻蠁畏 蟿慰蠀 危慰蠀味伪谓伪 螜纬魏蔚蟻蟽慰位 魏位畏蟻慰谓蠈渭畏蟽蔚 蟿慰 慰委魏畏渭伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 蟺伪蟿苇蟻伪 蟿畏蟼 蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰 蟺蟻蠅蟿蠉蟿蔚蟻伪 伪谓萎魏蔚 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺慰蠂萎 蟺慰蠀 蠂蟿委蟽胃畏魏蔚 (1867) 蟽蟿慰谓 魏伪蟺蔚蟿维谓喂慰 韦味慰谓 韦蔚蟻谓蔚蟻 魏伪喂 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪蟺慰纬蠈谓慰蠀蟼 蟿慰蠀. 危蟿喂蟼 伪蟻蠂苇蟼 蟿慰蠀 20慰蠀 伪喂蠋谓伪 伪谓伪魏伪喂谓委蟽蟿畏魏蔚 魏伪喂 蟽萎渭蔚蟻伪 位蔚喂蟿慰蠀蟻纬蔚喂 蠅蟼 渭慰蠀蟽蔚委慰 渭蔚 未喂维蠁慰蟻伪 events 谓伪 蟽蠀渭尾伪委谓慰蠀谓 蟽蟿慰谓 蔚蟽蠅蟿蔚蟻喂魏蠈 蠂蠋蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 渭蔚 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈蟿蔚蟻慰 伪蠀蟿蠈 蟿慰蠀 螣魏蟿蠅尾蟻委慰蠀 蟽蟿慰 慰蟺慰委慰 味蠅谓蟿伪谓蔚蠉慰蠀谓 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维 蟽蟿伪 渭维蟿喂伪 蟿蠅谓 蔚蟺喂蟽魏蔚蟺蟿蠋谓 慰喂 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏慰委 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀!.. 危蟿喂蟼 蟽蟺慰蟻伪未喂魏苇蟼 位慰喂蟺蠈谓 蔚蟺喂蟽魏苇蠄蔚喂蟼 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蟽蟿慰 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 蟿慰蠀 危蔚喂位蔚渭 鈥撓勎肺� 蟺蔚蟻委慰未慰 蔚魏蔚委谓畏 蟿慰 蟽蟺委蟿喂 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位慰蠉谓蟿伪谓 渭慰谓维蠂伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿蟻委伪 伪蔚蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪- 魏 蟽蟿喂蟼 喂蟽蟿慰蟻喂魏苇蟼 伪谓伪蠁慰蟻苇蟼 蟿畏蟼 尉伪未苇蟻蠁畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蔚蟺慰蠂萎 蟺慰蠀 蟿慰 蔚蟺喂尾位畏蟿喂魏蠈 蟽蟺委蟿喂 蟽蟿蔚蠁伪谓蠋谓慰谓蟿伪谓 伪蟺蠈 蔚蟺蟿维 伪蔚蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪 慰 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓慰蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁苇伪蟼 蠈蠂喂 渭蠈谓慰 纬慰畏蟿蔚蠉蟿畏魏蔚 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蟺伪位位蠈渭蔚谓畏 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏 魏伪蟻未喂维 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 伪位位维 蔚渭蟺谓蔚蠉蟽蟿畏魏蔚 魏伪喂 苇谓伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿伪 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 苇蟻纬伪 蟿慰蠀.
蝿蝿 It was itself like a great human heart, with a life of its own, and full of rich and sombre reminisces 鈥樷€� Nathaniel Hawthorne.
螆谓伪 维位位慰 蟽畏渭伪谓蟿喂魏蠈 纬蔚纬慰谓蠈蟼 蟺慰蠀 蔚蟺畏蟻苇伪蟽蔚 蟿慰谓 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蟽蟿畏谓 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬委伪 蟿慰蠀 尾喂尾位委慰蠀 畏蟿伪谓 慰喂 蟺蔚蟻喂尾蠈畏蟿蔚蟼 螖委魏蔚蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠伪纬喂蟽蟽蠋谓 蟽蟿慰 危蔚喂位蔚渭 (桅蔚尾 1692-螠伪喂慰蟼 1693), 蟽蟿喂蟼 慰蟺慰委蔚蟼 渭蟺蟻慰蟽蟿维蟻畏蟼 蠀蟺萎蟻尉蔚 慰 John Hathorne 鈥� 苇渭蟺慰蟻慰蟼, 蔚喂蟻畏谓慰未委魏畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟺蟻蠈纬慰谓慰蟼 蟿慰蠀 螡伪胃伪谓喂蔚位- 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿苇位畏尉伪谓 蟽蟿畏谓 蔚魏蟿苇位蔚蟽畏, 蟽蟿畏谓 魏蟻蔚渭维位伪 魏 蟽蟿畏谓 蠁蠀位维魏喂蟽畏 蟿蠅谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻慰蠉渭蔚谓蠅谓.螝维蟺蠅蟼 苇蟿蟽喂 伪蟻蠂委味蔚喂 魏伪喂 畏 蟺位慰魏萎 蟿慰蠀 苇蟻纬慰蠀 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺蠈位畏 蟿畏蟼 螡苇伪蟼 螒纬纬位委伪蟼..螣 纬蔚蟻蠈 螠伪胃喂慰蠀 螠慰位 谓蠈渭喂渭慰蟼 魏维蟿慰蠂慰蟼 渭喂伪 蠁蟿蠅蠂喂魏萎蟼 魏伪位蠉尾伪蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 渭蔚蟿蔚蟺蔚喂蟿伪 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 危蟿蟻喂蟿 蟽苇蟻谓蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蟿伪 未喂魏伪蟽蟿萎蟻喂伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰谓 危蠀谓蟿伪纬渭伪蟿维蟻蠂畏 螤蠀谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 魏伪蟿畏纬慰蟻委伪 蟿畏蟼 渭伪纬蔚委伪蟼, 蔚谓 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蔚委伪 魏伪蟿伪蠂蟻维蟿伪喂 蟿慰 蟺蔚谓喂蠂蟻蠈 慰委魏畏渭伪 渭蔚蟿伪蟿蟻苇蟺慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 蟽蔚 苇谓伪 伪谓蟿维尉喂伪 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼 胃苇蟽畏蟼 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 魏 慰 维蟿蠀蠂慰蟼 螠慰位 蔚魏蟿蔚位蔚委蟿伪喂 渭蔚 伪蟺伪纬蠂慰谓喂蟽渭蠈. 螤蟻慰蟿慰蠉 尉蔚蠄蠀蠂萎蟽蔚喂 蟺蟻慰位伪尾伪委谓蔚喂 谓伪 尉蔚蟽蟿慰渭委蟽蔚喂 苇谓伪 伪谓维胃蔚渭伪 蟺蟻慰蟼 蟿慰谓 蔚蠂胃蟻蠈 蟿慰蠀, 渭喂伪 魏伪蟿伪蟻伪 纬喂伪 蟿喂蟼 渭蔚位位慰谓蟿喂魏苇蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 蟿蠅谓 螤蠀谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 伪蟺慰魏蟻蠉蟺蟿慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 苇谓伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏蠈 -魏伪喂 未喂伪蟿畏蟻蠋谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰 蔚谓 纬谓蠋蟽蔚喂 蟽蟿喂蟼 伪魏蠈位慰蠀胃蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位- 渭蠀胃蠋未畏蟼 蠂蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏萎蟼 维尉喂伪蟼. 螣 未蔚 蟺蟻蠋蟿慰蟼 喂未喂慰魏蟿萎蟿畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 螒蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏慰蠉 尾蟻委蟽魏蔚蟿伪喂 尉伪蠁谓喂魏维 魏 伪谓伪委蟿喂伪 谓蔚魏蟻蠈蟼 蟽蟿畏谓 蟺慰位蠀胃蟻蠈谓伪 蟿慰蠀, 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟽蠀谓蔚蟽蟿委伪蟽畏 渭蔚 蔚蟺喂蠁伪谓蔚委蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀蟼 蟿畏谓 蟺蠈位畏蟼, 蔚蟺伪位畏胃蔚蠉慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰谓 蠂蟻畏蟽渭蠈 蟿慰蠀 螠慰位.
螚 喂蟽蟿慰蟻委伪 渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪渭蟺蠈蟽蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼 螠慰位 魏伪喂 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 伪蟻纬蠈蟿蔚蟻伪 魏 蟽蔚 蔚谓蔚蟽蟿蠋蟿伪 蠂蟻蠈谓慰 蟽蟿畏谓 慰位喂纬慰渭蔚位萎 蟿蔚位蔚蠀蟿伪委伪 纬蔚谓喂维 蟿蠅谓 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蠈蟺慰蠀 蟽蟿慰 蠁蟿蠅蠂喂魏蠈 蟺位苇慰谓 伪蟻蠂慰谓蟿喂魏蠈 未喂伪渭苇谓慰蠀谓 魏伪蟿鈥� 蔚蟺喂位慰纬萎谓 蟿慰蠀蟼: 畏 蟺伪蟻蔚尉畏纬萎蟽喂渭畏 纬喂伪 蟿慰谓 蔚纬魏位蔚喂蟽渭蠈 蟿畏蟼 伪蟺蠈 渭喂伪 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪 未蠀蟽伪谓蔚魏蟿喂魏萎 蟽蔚 慰蝿蟿喂 未蔚谓 蔚尉畏纬蔚委蟿伪喂 蟽蠉渭蠁蠅谓伪 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 未喂魏维 蟿畏蟼 蟺蟻蠈蟿蠀蟺伪, 渭伪 伪纬伪蟺畏蟿萎 魏伪喂 蟽蠀纬魏喂谓畏蟿喂魏萎 蟽蟿慰蠀蟼 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿蔚蟼 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蠀蟿伪蟺维蟻谓畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 胃伪位蟺蠅蟻萎 蟿畏蟼, 畏 渭蠀蠅蟺喂魏萎 维蟽蠂畏渭畏 纬蟻喂维 螘蠄喂尾伪, 慰 伪未蔚位蠁蠈蟼 蟿畏蟼 螝位喂蠁慰蟻谓蟿, 苇谓伪蟼 蟽蠀尾伪蟻委蟿畏蟼, 位维蟿蟻畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 蠅蟻伪委慰蠀 渭蔚 渭蠀伪位蠈 渭喂魏蟻慰蠉 蟺伪喂未喂慰蠉 慰 慰蟺慰委慰蟼 渭蔚蟿维 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰蠁蠀位维魏喂蟽畏 未蔚谓 蟺伪蟻伪尾纬伪委谓蔚喂 蟺慰蟿苇 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 蟺蔚蟻委渭蔚蟿蟻慰 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 蟺伪蟻维 渭蠈谓慰 蟽蟿畏谓 蟽蟿慰位喂蟽渭苇谓畏 伪蟺蠈 蟺蔚谓蟿维渭慰蟻蠁伪 位慰蠀位慰蠉未喂伪 渭蔚蟽伪蠀位畏, 畏 伪谓喂蠄喂维 蟿慰蠀蟼 畏 桅慰喂尾畏 畏 蠈蟺慰喂伪 蟿慰蠀蟼 蔚蟺喂蟽魏苇蟺蟿蔚蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 苇谓伪谓 伪位位慰蟿喂谓蠈 蟿蠈蟺慰 魏伪喂 魏伪蟿伪蠁苇蟻谓蔚喂 蠈蟺蠅蟼 慰 萎位喂慰蟼 渭蔚 蟿喂蟼 胃伪蠀渭伪蟿慰蠀蟻纬苇蟼 畏位喂伪蠂蟿委未蔚蟼 蟿慰蠀 谓伪 蠁蠅蟿委蟽蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 蔚蠀蠂维蟻喂蟽蟿畏 蟺蟿蠀蠂萎 蟿畏蟼 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺喂谓畏蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼 蟿慰蠀蟼, 蟽伪谓 渭喂伪 蠈渭慰蟻蠁畏 谓蔚蟻维喂未伪 蟺慰蠀 渭蔚 蟿慰 渭喂魏蟻蠈 渭伪纬喂魏蠈 蟻伪尾未维魏喂 蟿畏蟼 谓喂蠈蟿畏蟼 蟿畏蟼 未委谓蔚喂 渭喂伪 慰位慰魏伪委谓慰蠀蟻喂伪 蠀蟺蠈蟽蟿伪蟽畏 蟽蔚 蠈位伪 蟿伪 蠀蟺维蟻蠂慰谓蟿伪 蟿慰蠀 蟽蟺喂蟿喂慰蠉 魏伪喂 苇谓伪蟼 渭蠀蟽蟿畏蟻喂蠋未畏蟼 未伪纬魏蔚蟻慰蟿蠀蟺畏蟼 渭蔚 蟿慰谓 慰蟺慰喂慰 蟽蠀渭蟺位畏蟻蠋谓蔚蟿伪喂 魏伪喂 蟿慰 蟺维味位 蟿蠅谓 伪喂谓喂纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿萎蟻蠅谓 蟺慰蠀 蟺位维胃蔚喂 渭蔚 蟿蠈蟽畏 渭伪蔚蟽蟿蟻委伪 魏 蔚尉伪喂蟻蔚蟿喂魏维 渭蔚纬维位慰 味萎位慰 慰 围慰胃慰蟻谓.
螒蟻魏蔚蟿维 蟺喂慰 蟺苇蟻伪 伪蟺蠈 蟿畏谓 慰未蠈 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟽蔚 渭喂伪 蟺位慰蠀蟽喂慰蟺维蟻慰蠂畏 苇蟺伪蠀位畏 未喂伪渭苇谓蔚喂 苇谓伪蟼 维位位慰蟼 尉维未蔚位蠁慰蟼 蟿畏蟼 螘蠄喂尾伪, 慰 螖喂魏伪蟽蟿萎蟼 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟺慰蠀 伪谓伪渭蠁委尾慰位伪 胃伪 渭蟺慰蟻慰蠉蟽伪渭蔚 谓伪 蟺慰蠉渭蔚 蠈蟿喂 伪蟺慰蟿蔚位蔚委 蟿畏谓 蟽蠉纬魏伪喂蟻畏 渭蔚蟿蔚谓蟽维蟻魏蠅蟽畏 蟿慰蠀 蟺伪谓慰蠉蟻纬慰蠀 螤慰蠀蟻喂蟿伪谓慰蠉 危蠀谓蟿伪纬渭伪蟿维蟻蠂畏 蠈蠂喂 渭蠈谓慰 蠁蠀蟽喂慰纬谓蠅渭喂魏维 魏伪喂 纬喂伪蟿委 蠂伪委蟻蔚喂 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 蔚魏蟿委渭畏蟽畏蟼 位蠈纬蠅 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓喂魏萎蟼 胃苇蟽畏蟼 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 蠈蟺慰喂伪 蔚委谓伪喂 蔚谓未蔚未蠀渭苇谓慰蟼 鈥撐何蔽� 伪位蠀蟽慰未蔚渭苇谓慰蟼 胃伪 位苇纬伪渭蔚 蔚渭蔚委蟼- 伪位位维 未喂蠈蟿喂 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 渭慰谓伪未喂魏蠈蟼 蟺慰蠀 伪纬蠅谓委味蔚蟿伪喂 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蟺慰魏维位蠀蠄畏 蟿慰蠀 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏慰蠉 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位 魏伪喂 魏蠀蟻委蠅蟼 未喂慰蟿喂 蔚委谓伪喂 慰 渭慰谓伪未喂魏蠈蟼 蠀蟺蔚蠉胃蠀谓慰蟼 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蟽蠀谓蔚蠂蔚委伪 蟿畏蟼 蟺伪蟻维未慰蟽畏蟼 蟿慰蠀 鈥樷€櫸课刮合屜兾肺嘉肯呪€欌€� 蟿蠅谓 螤喂谓蟿蟽喂慰谓 蟽蟿喂蟼 蔚蟺蠈渭蔚谓蔚蟼 纬蔚谓喂苇蟼. 螤蟻慰尾位畏渭伪蟿喂蟽渭苇谓慰蟼 慰 围慰胃慰蟻谓 蔚蠉蟽蟿慰蠂伪 蟺伪蟻伪蟿畏蟻蔚委 蠈蟿喂 蔚魏蟿蠈蟼 蟿蠅谓 蠁蠀蟽喂魏蠋谓 蠂伪蟻伪魏蟿畏蟻喂蟽蟿喂魏蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 渭蟺慰蟻蔚委 谓伪 渭蔚蟿伪尾喂尾维味慰谓蟿伪喂 伪蟺蠈 纬蔚谓喂维 蟽蔚 纬蔚谓喂维 渭蔚蟿伪蠁苇蟻慰谓蟿伪喂 渭蔚 未喂伪蠁慰蟻蔚蟿喂魏苇蟼 魏伪喂 蟺喂慰 蟽委纬慰蠀蟻蔚蟼 未喂伪未喂魏伪蟽委蔚蟼 蔚位伪蟿蟿蠋渭伪蟿伪 , 伪未蠀谓伪渭委蔚蟼, 未蠈位喂伪 蟺维胃畏, 未蠀蟽慰委蠅谓蔚蟼 蟺蟻慰蠁畏蟿蔚委蔚蟼. 螕喂伪 蟿畏谓 伪蟺蠈魏蟿畏蟽畏 渭喂伪蟼 渭蠈谓喂渭畏蟼 魏伪蟿慰喂魏委伪蟼 魏伪喂 维位位蠅谓 伪纬伪胃蠋谓 蟺慰蠀 未畏渭喂慰蠀蟻纬慰蠉谓 渭喂伪 蠄蔚蠀未伪委蟽胃畏蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蔚蠀蟿蠀蠂委伪蟼 慰 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰蟼 蔚委谓伪喂 未喂伪蟿蔚胃蔚喂渭苇谓慰蟼 谓伪 未喂伪蟺蟻维尉蔚喂 魏维胃蔚 伪谓畏胃喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪, 蟿慰 慰蟺慰喂伪未萎蟺慰蟿蔚 畏胃喂魏蠈 萎 蟺慰喂谓喂魏蠈 苇纬魏位畏渭伪, 谓伪 伪谓慰委尉蔚喂 蠅蟼 维位位畏 蟺慰谓畏蟻萎 螤伪谓未蠅蟻伪 蟿慰 魏慰蠀蟿委 蟿蠅谓 未喂魏蠋谓 蟿慰蠀 蟽蠀渭蠁慰蟻蠋谓.
螌蟽慰 纬喂伪 蟿畏谓 蠁蠀蟽喂魏萎 蟺伪蟻慰蠀蟽委伪 蟿畏蟼 蟽蠉纬蠂蟻慰谓畏蟼 纬蔚谓喂维蟼 蟿蠅谓 螠慰位 伪蟼 渭伪蟼 蔚蟺喂蟿蟻伪蟺蔚委 谓伪 魏蟻伪蟿萎蟽慰蠀渭蔚 魏 蔚渭蔚委蟼 苇谓伪 渭蠀蟽蟿喂魏蠈 蟽蠀渭渭蔚蟿苇蠂慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟽蟿慰 渭蠀蟽蟿萎蟻喂慰 蟿畏蟼 魏伪位慰纬蟻伪渭渭苇谓畏蟼 伪蠀蟿萎蟼 螜蟽蟿慰蟻委伪蟼. 危蔚 未喂维蠁慰蟻蔚蟼 伪谓伪未蟻慰渭苇蟼 维位位蠅蟽蟿蔚 蟽蟿慰 蟺伪蟻蔚位胃蠈谓 蔚蟻蠂蠈渭伪蟽蟿蔚 蟽蔚 蔚蟺伪蠁萎 渭蔚 魏伪喂谓慰蠁伪谓萎 蔚纬魏位萎渭伪蟿伪, 蟺伪蟻伪未蠈蟽蔚喂蟼, 蟺蟻慰魏伪蟿伪位萎蠄蔚喂蟼, 味萎位喂蔚蟼, 伪谓蟿喂蟺伪位蠈蟿畏蟿蔚蟼 魏伪喂 渭苇蟽蠅 伪蠀蟿蠋谓 渭蔚 维位位伪 伪尉喂慰渭谓畏渭蠈谓蔚蠀蟿伪 渭苇位畏 魏伪喂 蟿蠅谓 未蠀慰 慰喂魏慰纬蔚谓蔚喂蠋谓.
韦伪蠀蟿蠈蠂蟻慰谓伪 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 未喂维蟺位伪蟽畏 魏伪喂 蟿畏谓 蠅蟻委渭伪谓蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 渭蠀胃喂蟽蟿慰蟻畏渭伪蟿喂魏萎蟼 蟺位慰魏萎蟼 未喂伪蟿蠀蟺蠋谓蔚蟿伪喂 魏 渭喂伪 蟻蔚伪位喂蟽蟿喂魏萎 伪蟺蔚喂魏蠈谓喂蟽畏 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟺慰蠂萎蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪蟼 蟿畏蟼 螡蔚伪蟼 螒纬纬位喂伪蟼 魏伪喂 蟿畏蟼 喂未喂慰蟽蠀纬魏蟻伪蟽委伪蟼 蟿蠅谓 魏维蟿慰喂魏蠅谓 蟿畏蟼. 螚 喂魏伪谓蠈蟿畏蟿伪 蠅蟽蟿蠈蟽慰 蟿慰蠀 围慰胃慰蟻谓 谓伪 未喂蔚喂蟽未蠉蔚喂 蟽蟿伪 渭蠉蠂喂伪 蟿畏蟼 蔚蟻蔚尾蠋未慰蠀蟼 蠄蠀蠂萎蟼 魏维胃蔚 伪喂谓喂纬渭伪蟿喂魏慰蠉 萎 蟺蔚蟻喂胃蠅蟻喂伪魏慰蠉 伪谓胃蟻蠋蟺慰蠀 鈥� 魏伪喂 蟺维谓蟿伪 蟽蔚 蟽蠉纬魏蟻慰蠀蟽畏 渭蔚 蟿伪 渭维蟿喂伪 渭喂伪蟼 渭喂魏蟻蠈谓慰蠀蟼 魏慰喂谓蠅谓委伪蟼 - 蔚委谓伪喂 伪蠀蟿萎 蟺慰蠀 蔚谓蟿蠀蟺蠅蟽喂维味蔚喂 蟿慰谓 未喂慰蟻伪蟿喂魏蠈 魏伪喂 苇魏蟺位畏魏蟿慰 伪谓伪纬谓蠋蟽蟿畏. 螣 围慰胃慰蟻谓 伪谓伪未蔚喂魏谓蠉蔚蟿伪喂 蟽蔚 苇谓伪谓 蟺蟻伪纬渭伪蟿喂魏蠈 伪蟻喂蟽蟿慰蟿苇蠂谓畏 蟿慰蠀 纬蟻伪蟺蟿慰蠉 位蠈纬慰蠀 蠈蟺慰蠀 畏 维蟻蟿喂伪 蟽蠀纬魏蟻慰蟿畏渭苇谓畏 魏伪喂 尾伪胃蠀蟽蟿蠈蠂伪蟽蟿畏 蟽魏苇蠄畏 蔚委谓伪喂 蟿伪 魏蠀蟻委伪 蟽蠀蟽蟿伪蟿喂魏维 渭喂伪蟼 蟽蠀谓蔚蟺慰蠉蟼 蟺伪蟻伪蟿畏蟻畏蟿喂魏蠈蟿畏蟿伪蟼 蟺慰蠀 蟿蠈蟽慰 纬慰萎蟿蔚蠀蟽蔚 魏伪喂 蟿慰谓 螠蔚位尾喂位 伪谓伪魏畏蟻蠉蟽蟽慰谓蟿伪蟼 蟿慰谓 蠅蟼 苇谓伪谓 伪蟺蠈 蟿慰蠀蟼 蟺喂慰 慰位慰魏位畏蟻蠅渭苇谓慰蠀蟼 蟽蠀纬纬蟻伪蠁蔚委蟼 蟿畏蟼 螒渭蔚蟻喂魏伪谓喂魏畏蟼 螞慰纬慰蟿蔚蠂谓委伪蟼.
July 31, 2007
This book dares you to read it. I hadn't thought about putting it up here, because, in fact, I have never finished it. I have the distinction of having had the book assigned to me no less than three times in various college courses, and never once read the whole thing.
The problem is I do not care about a single character in this novel. A rich family is cursed because they screwed over a poor family? Great. Where's the conflict? I hate rich people, and didn't want to see them redeemed.
The Daguerrotypist? He's a creep. Phoebe. Well, she's only "half-Pyncheon" right, Hepzibah? I had no pity for anyone in this novel, didn't care that the monkey and the Organ grinder were a metaphor for capitalism, and I certainly didn't care when Phoebe and the "artist" seemed to be the new hope for the Pyncheon line. What's in a name anyway?
Maybe it's just the extremely nineteenth-centuryness to the book. (Can't be helped really...)I've never been fond of too much pre 1900 stuff, but man, read this book and tell me how many times you find the word "countenance." This works with anything from the period, really. See also Turn of the Screw. Only I liked that book.
The problem is I do not care about a single character in this novel. A rich family is cursed because they screwed over a poor family? Great. Where's the conflict? I hate rich people, and didn't want to see them redeemed.
The Daguerrotypist? He's a creep. Phoebe. Well, she's only "half-Pyncheon" right, Hepzibah? I had no pity for anyone in this novel, didn't care that the monkey and the Organ grinder were a metaphor for capitalism, and I certainly didn't care when Phoebe and the "artist" seemed to be the new hope for the Pyncheon line. What's in a name anyway?
Maybe it's just the extremely nineteenth-centuryness to the book. (Can't be helped really...)I've never been fond of too much pre 1900 stuff, but man, read this book and tell me how many times you find the word "countenance." This works with anything from the period, really. See also Turn of the Screw. Only I liked that book.
June 11, 2018
A classic by an American novelist. I've wanted to add more classics into my reading schedule, and recently came across this one. Unfortunately, I found it too dry and slow paced. It was very detailed and full of symbolism. One that is probably used a lot in classes to illustrate imagery and symbolism in writing, but not an especially enjoyable read.
April 6, 2014
鈥� for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation鈥� Exodus 20:5
It has always been a wonder for me why punishment should be as such. Why is this idea of making descendants suffer for their forefather鈥檚 mistakes so recurring in literature? Including this passage from the bible, there are countless other works which involve this sad practice; Nathaniel Hawthorne鈥檚 The House of Seven Gables is one of the more renowned cases. With the infamous line 鈥淕od will give him blood to drink!鈥� the life of Coronel Pyncheon and his descendants are tainted with darkness and gloom. But why include the innocent? Why stain the pure with blood before they even take their first breath? It may not be as obvious as such curses, but it occurred to me that even without these often thunderous pronunciations of hexes, the lives of future generations are often so greatly affected by their ancestors that such curses prove to be superfluous in the success or downfall of a lineage. If, say, an ancestor gives you the handicap of poverty, then it is more probable that you would be born in hard circumstances. Having no material advantages at all, you would have to work infinitely to improve your living conditions. Alas, if you are given the advantage of luxury, being born in a well-endowed family, then you owe your well-being to your ancestors. A descendant is almost insured of a good life having such great advantages as money and power without working for it. It is laughable how much our life is dictated by one person鈥檚 decision two or three generations before us. This common occurrence in literature of making descendants suffer for their ancestors, in my perspective, is a tool meant to accentuate the power that an ancestor holds over his lineage. It implicates its effects by showing it in a more obvious form. In direct contrast with this lineal punishment is the practice of building a great house for posterity, this is where the house of seven gables comes in. The house, signifying Colonel Pyncheon鈥檚 good intentions for posterity, shows how an ancestor can plunge his lineage into wrong thinking of their welfare. The house, it would seem, represents everything that is wrong with the dead making decisions for the living. First, the curse that it incurred. Second, considering the number of his descendants, it proved that so large a house was unnecessary for Colonel Pyncheon鈥檚 lineage considering upkeep and maintenance. Third, like the portrait, and considering their history of gloom, it serves as a reminder for all the negativity and sadness that has haunted the home through the years. Aside from these long-term decisions, another recurring point in the novel is the feud with the Mauls. People heedlessly and often without sufficient reason are tangled into bitter conflict because of some unknown spat their grandfathers had years ago. Of course, the resolution of the two clans in the end proved to be more optimistic than expected, but the said rivalry because of lineage is one practice as contemptible as pronouncing punishment unto future generations. In the end, I can only agree with Holgrave鈥檚 discourse: 鈥溾€� a Dead Man, if he happen to have made a will, disposes of wealth no longer his own; or, if he die intestate, it is distributed in accordance with the notions of men much longer than he. A Dead Man sits on all our judgment-seats; and living judges do but search out and repeat his decisions. We read in Dead Men鈥檚 books! We laugh at Dead Men鈥檚 jokes, and cry at Dead Men鈥檚 pathos! We are sick of Dead Men鈥檚 diseases, physical and moral, and die of the same remedies with which dead doctors killed their patients! We worship the living Deity, according to Dead Men鈥檚 forms and creeds! Whatever we seek to do, of our own free motion, a Dead Man鈥檚 icy hand obstructs us! Turn our eyes away to what point we may, a Dead Man鈥檚 white, immitigable face encounters them, and freezes our very heart! And we must be dead ourselves, before we can begin to have our proper influence on our own world, which will be then no longer our world, but the world of another generation, with which we shall have no shadow of a right to interfere.鈥� Of course, one cannot be so na茂ve as to brush aside our forefather鈥檚 examples and achievements before us. We learn much by their examples and owe our comfort to them, but the daguerreotypist has a point. The living should be more accountable for decisions they make and more responsible for the changes that occur during their lifetime. That being said, we cannot discount that our ancestors will have a major role in determining whether we have our head-starts or our pits, but we should bear in mind that it is only the starting situation they influence. The rest is up to us. We can control our destiny; we have the power to do so.
鈥淔or, what other dungeon is so dark as one鈥檚 own heart! What jailor is so exorable as one鈥檚 self!鈥�
Hawthorne sought to write a story which would show guilt to be a trick of the imagination. The curse of the Pyncheons and the house of seven gables at the start of the novel is treated as folklore but slowly as the book unfolds turns into something you may consider otherwise. The calamities that befall the clan and the traceable hand that the Mauls play can make you believe the said curse. But as the book ends, a scientific and realistic explanation is given. Sometimes, we put too much weight on what people say about us that we believe it and make it so of our own accord. So that our downfall is sometimes caused by our very own volition. Nobody has power over ourselves but us, what we put into our minds is our choice. Self-pity, self-depreciation, insecurity, all these are mental states; they are but pits dug up by nobody else but ourselves, by our very hands. You dictate who you are, not what people say about you.
The house of seven gables is a good read, it shows certain tendencies of the human state that can be improved upon, and it exposes qualities especially regarding lineage and folklore that can be outlived. It shows that the power of the past is but a choice, whether we acknowledge its ruling power or not is a decision made by the present. As with anything else, it has it shares of faults. It gives too much faith on mesmerism and hypnotism despite its alleged aim to disprove myths and curses. Also, it did not live up to certain expectations. The first chapter promised something of an epic sweeping across generations, but the novel only focused on one generation and showed but glimpses of others. I was under the impression of something like of one hundred years of solitude; I got but barely a year. And, sometimes I am given the impression that Hawthorne distrusts his reader鈥檚 intellectual capacity. Especially with regards to the chapter entitled 鈥淕overnor Pyncheon鈥�, he expects his reader to be clueless about a very obvious fact. Of course, this might be considered as style; nevertheless I disliked the treatment on my part. Considering all elements of the book, I can still say that it is worth the time I gave it. The novel ends on a positive note and its optimism despite all its precedent darkness gives light to Hawthorne鈥檚 romanticism and virtuosity. In the end, I would like to note that should I sum up the nuggets of wisdom imparted by this book by a sentence, it would read as thus: Live by your own accord, then let others live by theirs.
It has always been a wonder for me why punishment should be as such. Why is this idea of making descendants suffer for their forefather鈥檚 mistakes so recurring in literature? Including this passage from the bible, there are countless other works which involve this sad practice; Nathaniel Hawthorne鈥檚 The House of Seven Gables is one of the more renowned cases. With the infamous line 鈥淕od will give him blood to drink!鈥� the life of Coronel Pyncheon and his descendants are tainted with darkness and gloom. But why include the innocent? Why stain the pure with blood before they even take their first breath? It may not be as obvious as such curses, but it occurred to me that even without these often thunderous pronunciations of hexes, the lives of future generations are often so greatly affected by their ancestors that such curses prove to be superfluous in the success or downfall of a lineage. If, say, an ancestor gives you the handicap of poverty, then it is more probable that you would be born in hard circumstances. Having no material advantages at all, you would have to work infinitely to improve your living conditions. Alas, if you are given the advantage of luxury, being born in a well-endowed family, then you owe your well-being to your ancestors. A descendant is almost insured of a good life having such great advantages as money and power without working for it. It is laughable how much our life is dictated by one person鈥檚 decision two or three generations before us. This common occurrence in literature of making descendants suffer for their ancestors, in my perspective, is a tool meant to accentuate the power that an ancestor holds over his lineage. It implicates its effects by showing it in a more obvious form. In direct contrast with this lineal punishment is the practice of building a great house for posterity, this is where the house of seven gables comes in. The house, signifying Colonel Pyncheon鈥檚 good intentions for posterity, shows how an ancestor can plunge his lineage into wrong thinking of their welfare. The house, it would seem, represents everything that is wrong with the dead making decisions for the living. First, the curse that it incurred. Second, considering the number of his descendants, it proved that so large a house was unnecessary for Colonel Pyncheon鈥檚 lineage considering upkeep and maintenance. Third, like the portrait, and considering their history of gloom, it serves as a reminder for all the negativity and sadness that has haunted the home through the years. Aside from these long-term decisions, another recurring point in the novel is the feud with the Mauls. People heedlessly and often without sufficient reason are tangled into bitter conflict because of some unknown spat their grandfathers had years ago. Of course, the resolution of the two clans in the end proved to be more optimistic than expected, but the said rivalry because of lineage is one practice as contemptible as pronouncing punishment unto future generations. In the end, I can only agree with Holgrave鈥檚 discourse: 鈥溾€� a Dead Man, if he happen to have made a will, disposes of wealth no longer his own; or, if he die intestate, it is distributed in accordance with the notions of men much longer than he. A Dead Man sits on all our judgment-seats; and living judges do but search out and repeat his decisions. We read in Dead Men鈥檚 books! We laugh at Dead Men鈥檚 jokes, and cry at Dead Men鈥檚 pathos! We are sick of Dead Men鈥檚 diseases, physical and moral, and die of the same remedies with which dead doctors killed their patients! We worship the living Deity, according to Dead Men鈥檚 forms and creeds! Whatever we seek to do, of our own free motion, a Dead Man鈥檚 icy hand obstructs us! Turn our eyes away to what point we may, a Dead Man鈥檚 white, immitigable face encounters them, and freezes our very heart! And we must be dead ourselves, before we can begin to have our proper influence on our own world, which will be then no longer our world, but the world of another generation, with which we shall have no shadow of a right to interfere.鈥� Of course, one cannot be so na茂ve as to brush aside our forefather鈥檚 examples and achievements before us. We learn much by their examples and owe our comfort to them, but the daguerreotypist has a point. The living should be more accountable for decisions they make and more responsible for the changes that occur during their lifetime. That being said, we cannot discount that our ancestors will have a major role in determining whether we have our head-starts or our pits, but we should bear in mind that it is only the starting situation they influence. The rest is up to us. We can control our destiny; we have the power to do so.
鈥淔or, what other dungeon is so dark as one鈥檚 own heart! What jailor is so exorable as one鈥檚 self!鈥�
Hawthorne sought to write a story which would show guilt to be a trick of the imagination. The curse of the Pyncheons and the house of seven gables at the start of the novel is treated as folklore but slowly as the book unfolds turns into something you may consider otherwise. The calamities that befall the clan and the traceable hand that the Mauls play can make you believe the said curse. But as the book ends, a scientific and realistic explanation is given. Sometimes, we put too much weight on what people say about us that we believe it and make it so of our own accord. So that our downfall is sometimes caused by our very own volition. Nobody has power over ourselves but us, what we put into our minds is our choice. Self-pity, self-depreciation, insecurity, all these are mental states; they are but pits dug up by nobody else but ourselves, by our very hands. You dictate who you are, not what people say about you.
The house of seven gables is a good read, it shows certain tendencies of the human state that can be improved upon, and it exposes qualities especially regarding lineage and folklore that can be outlived. It shows that the power of the past is but a choice, whether we acknowledge its ruling power or not is a decision made by the present. As with anything else, it has it shares of faults. It gives too much faith on mesmerism and hypnotism despite its alleged aim to disprove myths and curses. Also, it did not live up to certain expectations. The first chapter promised something of an epic sweeping across generations, but the novel only focused on one generation and showed but glimpses of others. I was under the impression of something like of one hundred years of solitude; I got but barely a year. And, sometimes I am given the impression that Hawthorne distrusts his reader鈥檚 intellectual capacity. Especially with regards to the chapter entitled 鈥淕overnor Pyncheon鈥�, he expects his reader to be clueless about a very obvious fact. Of course, this might be considered as style; nevertheless I disliked the treatment on my part. Considering all elements of the book, I can still say that it is worth the time I gave it. The novel ends on a positive note and its optimism despite all its precedent darkness gives light to Hawthorne鈥檚 romanticism and virtuosity. In the end, I would like to note that should I sum up the nuggets of wisdom imparted by this book by a sentence, it would read as thus: Live by your own accord, then let others live by theirs.
October 12, 2017
No s茅 si asegurar que el libro me decepcion贸, porque de cierta manera sab铆a a qu茅 me estaba aventurando desde que lo empec茅. Hab铆a escuchado una infinidad de veces que el libro no era para nada ligero, que ten铆a una cantidad exagerada de relleno innecesario, descripciones eternas de nimiedades que no le aportan a la trama, entre otras cosas. Creo que el problema radica, en principio, en que 茅sta es una novela g贸tica cuyo foco est谩 en un drama familiar, pero no puede definirse plenamente como una novela 铆ntegramente de terror.
La novela g贸tica cuenta con varias caracter铆sticas que suelen despistar al lector, haciendo que olvide la idea de "terror" durante la lectura. Algunas atm贸sferas oscuras indican que lo sobrenatural puede ocurrir, pero tambi茅n est谩 acompa帽ado de un sinf铆n de detalladas descripciones sobre cosas m谩s irrelevantes y cotidianas por cuestiones meramente estil铆sticas que hacen que uno pierda de vista algunos t贸picos de mayor envergadura. Por ejemplo, de momentos nos encontramos con p谩ginas repletas de descripciones con lujo de detalle sobre las gallinas, entre otras trivialidades. Esto sucede porque la novela g贸tica sigue esta linea: la de hacer que el lector se adentre en la trama desde el detalle de algunas cosas que rodean a los protagonistas, las descripciones espec铆ficas sobre sentimientos y situaciones por las que 茅stos atraviesan, expresiones empleadas, comentarios que denotan conversaciones mundanas, entre otros elementos que hacen que el lector se interiorice en el mundo del protagonista de una forma m谩s "personal". Y por supuesto, eso no significa que todo lo que vaya a narrarse sea de inter茅s del lector, pero parte de la literatura g贸tica consiste en tener ese car谩cter inmersivo que lo envuelve, y lo hace parte de la historia en cierto modo, y para esto en preciso contar las cosas desde cero y con alto grado de detalle.
Las historias g贸ticas son de mis predilectas, aunque con gran dolor en el coraz贸n, debo admitir que "La casa de los siete tejados" no fue lo que esperaba. No quisiera extenderme mucho m谩s sobre esto, al menos no por escrito, pero har茅 un video al respecto en mi canal para quienes gusten escuchar mi opini贸n sobre esta novela.
La novela g贸tica cuenta con varias caracter铆sticas que suelen despistar al lector, haciendo que olvide la idea de "terror" durante la lectura. Algunas atm贸sferas oscuras indican que lo sobrenatural puede ocurrir, pero tambi茅n est谩 acompa帽ado de un sinf铆n de detalladas descripciones sobre cosas m谩s irrelevantes y cotidianas por cuestiones meramente estil铆sticas que hacen que uno pierda de vista algunos t贸picos de mayor envergadura. Por ejemplo, de momentos nos encontramos con p谩ginas repletas de descripciones con lujo de detalle sobre las gallinas, entre otras trivialidades. Esto sucede porque la novela g贸tica sigue esta linea: la de hacer que el lector se adentre en la trama desde el detalle de algunas cosas que rodean a los protagonistas, las descripciones espec铆ficas sobre sentimientos y situaciones por las que 茅stos atraviesan, expresiones empleadas, comentarios que denotan conversaciones mundanas, entre otros elementos que hacen que el lector se interiorice en el mundo del protagonista de una forma m谩s "personal". Y por supuesto, eso no significa que todo lo que vaya a narrarse sea de inter茅s del lector, pero parte de la literatura g贸tica consiste en tener ese car谩cter inmersivo que lo envuelve, y lo hace parte de la historia en cierto modo, y para esto en preciso contar las cosas desde cero y con alto grado de detalle.
Las historias g贸ticas son de mis predilectas, aunque con gran dolor en el coraz贸n, debo admitir que "La casa de los siete tejados" no fue lo que esperaba. No quisiera extenderme mucho m谩s sobre esto, al menos no por escrito, pero har茅 un video al respecto en mi canal para quienes gusten escuchar mi opini贸n sobre esta novela.
November 1, 2010
An old US colloquial house with seven gables that seem to be mocking heaven. Seven main characters. The old ugly Hepzibah Pyncheon running a candy shop to earn a living for herself and her war-torn brother Clifford Pyncheon. Her face is ugly because she has to squint to see. She needs to wear eye-glasses but she is so poor that she cannot afford to have one. So customers are few except the young adorable boy Ned Higgins who loves gingerbread cookies that he comes back again and again to the candy shop ignoring Hepzibah's face. Hovering in the background is the lone tenant, the daguerreotypist (old style photographer) Holgrave that stuck it up in the house for an unknown reason.
Then the other characters come to this old decrepit decaying house one at a time as if Hawthorne is calling them up the stage one by one: the young beautiful Phoebe Pyncheon stepping on the old wooden porch, the cunning and greedy Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon insisting to go inside the house despite protestations from Phoebe, and the frequent visitor who lives nearby, Uncle Venner.
This makes this novel remarkable: the characters. Hawthorne has this masterful skill in providing contracts to his characters by highlighting their contrasts, e.g., the ugly but good-hearted Hepzibah vs the sweet-smiling but cunning Jaffrey, the young lovely Phoebe stepping on the porch of the decrepit old house, the young adorable Ned chewing the gingerbread cookies given to him by scary lady, etc. The house with glorious past hiding a dark secret. Images that are so stark and vivid that will stay with you as you close the book.
The scare here is not due to a boy and a black man being able to read other people's mind or tell what will happen next. Nor from a lady in the bath tub whose blood-smeared breasts float on the water in a bath tub. The scare here comes from realization that a man's greed that happened long time ago can have an effect to the next generations. You sow and you and also possibly your children and grandchildren reap. The scare here is about man's frailty due to money. We all know that money can be evil. And if you do not have enough of it to pay for our mounting bills, it can result to sleepless nights and can drive you and your family all crazy.
For this reason, it's Hawthorne over King.
Then the other characters come to this old decrepit decaying house one at a time as if Hawthorne is calling them up the stage one by one: the young beautiful Phoebe Pyncheon stepping on the old wooden porch, the cunning and greedy Judge Jaffrey Pyncheon insisting to go inside the house despite protestations from Phoebe, and the frequent visitor who lives nearby, Uncle Venner.
This makes this novel remarkable: the characters. Hawthorne has this masterful skill in providing contracts to his characters by highlighting their contrasts, e.g., the ugly but good-hearted Hepzibah vs the sweet-smiling but cunning Jaffrey, the young lovely Phoebe stepping on the porch of the decrepit old house, the young adorable Ned chewing the gingerbread cookies given to him by scary lady, etc. The house with glorious past hiding a dark secret. Images that are so stark and vivid that will stay with you as you close the book.
The scare here is not due to a boy and a black man being able to read other people's mind or tell what will happen next. Nor from a lady in the bath tub whose blood-smeared breasts float on the water in a bath tub. The scare here comes from realization that a man's greed that happened long time ago can have an effect to the next generations. You sow and you and also possibly your children and grandchildren reap. The scare here is about man's frailty due to money. We all know that money can be evil. And if you do not have enough of it to pay for our mounting bills, it can result to sleepless nights and can drive you and your family all crazy.
For this reason, it's Hawthorne over King.
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September 21, 2021螇胃蔚位伪 谓伪 渭慰蠀 伪蟻苇蟽蔚喂 蟺蔚蟻喂蟽蟽蠈蟿蔚蟻慰. 螖蠀蟽蟿蠀蠂蠋蟼 未蔚谓 魏伪蟿维蠁蔚蟻伪 谓伪 蟽蠀谓未蔚胃蠋 慰蠀蟽喂伪蟽蟿喂魏维 渭蔚 蟿畏谓 伪蠁萎纬畏蟽畏, 魏伪胃蠈位畏 蟿畏 未喂维蟻魏蔚喂伪 蟿畏蟼 伪谓维纬谓蠅蟽畏蟼 未喂维尾伪味伪 魏维蟺蠅蟼 未喂蔚魏蟺蔚蟻伪喂蠅蟿喂魏维 魏伪喂 蟽蔚 未喂维蠁慰蟻伪 蟽畏渭蔚委伪 尾伪蟻苇胃畏魏伪. 螚 纬蟻伪蠁萎 蟿慰蠀 Hawthorne 渭蔚 纬慰萎蟿蔚蠀蟽蔚 蟽蔚 蟺慰位位维 魏慰渭渭维蟿喂伪, 蠈渭蠅蟼 未蔚谓 魏伪蟿维蠁蔚蟻蔚 谓伪 渭蔚 魏蟻伪蟿萎蟽蔚喂 渭苇蠂蟻喂 蟿慰 蟿苇位慰蟼. 螉蟽蠅蟼 未蔚谓 萎蟿伪谓 魏伪蟿维位位畏位畏 畏 蟽蠀纬魏蠀蟻委伪, 蟺慰喂慰蟼 谓伪 尉苇蟻蔚喂 - 纬喂' 伪蠀蟿蠈 魏伪喂 未蔚 尾维味蠅 伪蟽蟿蔚蟻维魏喂, 蠁慰尾维渭伪喂 渭畏谓 蟿慰 伪未喂魏萎蟽蠅.
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