“The Gray Champion” — The style is antiquated, not surprisingly, and the story somewhat difficult for us to follow at this later date, far removed from the injustices heaped upon the pilgrims by the redcoats and the British authorities that would engender such a myth-making of a dignified lone man confronting the Governor and his forces. Interesting, but not recommended.
“Sunday at Home” — Let’s describe this in a high concept way: imagine Rear Window meets the 700 Club. The narrator here is a bit creepy, although his (and I assume it is a he, although that’s not made clear) language is quite lofty. There’s not much plot. The narrator comments on the sun rising and shining on the church which he can see from behind a curtained window across the way, then he continues to describe what occurs at the church on the sabbath. The creepiness is exactly what he notices, like how the young girls all wear white stockings. And, of course, there’s the racism, with a particular egregious line about how the “sable” colored rejoice in the fact that once they die, they will be white in heaven.
“The Wedding Knell” — The story here is interesting: two older people are getting married, and it turns out they were lovers in their youth but the woman had spurned the man and had married two other gentlemen in the intervening decades, only now agreeing to marry him in their aged decline, to use language like Hawthorne’s. And it is that language that makes this story less than enjoyable.
“The Minister’s Black Veil” — A fairly simple story about a minister who decided to extend a sermon’s metaphor long past reasonableness. It’s interesting, but the didactic lesson to be taken from it feels to have lost some of its surprise by the length of the story, especially considering the climax is clearly laid out fairly early on.
“The May-Pole of Merry Mount” — A historical sketch of the 1600s written in the early 1800s regarding a community conflict between two different settlements of New England, one that worshipped dance and gaiety and the other Puritan and stern. Hedonism loses out to Hard Work in this analogy. The way the story is told is fairly strange, at least to today’s reader, although the concept is quite understandable. But it’s not much of a story, but a picture of a time and a place that is so very far removed from us in its writing as what it was writing about in its day.
“The Gentle Boy” — We are very removed from the time of the Puritans and Quakers at war with each other. It’s impossible to really understand why, and Hawthorne’s goal here, in not describing exactly what heresies the Quakers believed, is to have you see the futility of the religious war. I didn’t quite follow why the child had such power over the adults, and the arch style makes it difficult to fully comprehend what Hawthorne intended.
“Mr. Higginbotham’s Catastrophe” — A marvelous story about a peddler addicted to stories such that, on the basis of a small whisper, expounds it into a mad tale that he spreads, only to discover that he is spreading falsehoods. Compared to many of Hawthorne’s other stories, this one moves at a nice clip and has some really memorable scenes, such as the gentlemen who snorts smoke into the peddler’s face to inform him he’s a liar and the pelting of rocks and mud when he leaves the village. In fact, if anything, the ending is a bit rushed and “told” rather than shown. All in all, though, definitely one of my favorite stories of Hawthorne’s.
“Little Annie’s Ramble” — At once both experimental and yet not, this piece resembles a thought experiment taken shape. The narrator takes the hand of a little girl as she explores the world of her town, but the narrator is not present except in our minds, and the point of it all is to show what we forget or miss of the halcyon days of childhood when we grow old and complacent and cynical. Enjoyable.
“Wakefield” — An exceedingly strange thought experiment of a story of a husband who sets off on a normal journey one day but does not return to his home and wife until twenty years pass, instead taking lodgings in just one street over. I’m not entirely sure what Hawthorne’s purpose was in this tale and the lack of clarity—mainly regarding personal economics—means it has an atmosphere of some contemplation as a dream without attempting to realize how it actually might have occurred.
“A Rill from the Town-Pump” — Not so much a story as a lecture delivered by the most unlikely source, the water pump in the middle of town. The subject: how deleterious other drink is compared to the multi-benefits of water from a clear spring. I wonder at how experimental such a composition was in 1835, for it seems like such at this date. Interesting and short enough not to be too annoying.
“The Great Carbuncle” — An allegory about the search for something—in this case a great jewel—that it threatens to upend your life, no matter the reasons you give for searching for the thing.
“The Prophetic Pictures” — The premise is much more interesting than Hawthorne’s execution. A painter visits America, creating a small social storm in that he’s willing to paint anybody but only those whom he sees something in that makes his art worthwhile. Many people apply, but only few are chosen. A married couple sit for him and the resulting paintings worry them—there’s something dark in the man’s complexion and fear or horror in the woman’s. Yes, the title gives it away, as does Hawthorne’s heavy hand, making the ending quite anti-climatic.
“David Swan: A Fantasy” — The fantasy of the title is that of “what might have been.” A young man on the road to Boston to join his uncle’s firm takes rest in a copse of trees next to a babbling spring and falls asleep, and while he sleeps, three events occur that could have meant a much different future for him. Yet, he sleeps and knows not these dreams. Hawthorne’s purpose is to expose to the reader that such events occur all the time for each and every one of us, and no one can predict what fate might actually occur.
“Sights from a Steeple” — Not much of a story; more like a vignette describing a town and some of its inhabitants. There’s a touch more artifice here than in the other stories, with only a brief nod to a plot. Skipable.
“The Hollow of the Three Hills” — A fantasy story in which a distraught woman seeks a witch to enable her to hear the sounds of those she left behind in another place. Through three listening events, the old crone enables her to hear her parents, her husband, and what has become of her child. It’s well done, but the moral of the story is readily apparent, as the resolution of the story makes clear.
“The Toll-Gatherer’s Day” — No story here, just a description of the day in the life of a bridge toll-taker, enumerating the varied people who pass over (and in one particular case of a schooner, under) his bridge. Interesting for an insight into the world of the early 1800s.
“The Vision of the Fountain” — The story isn’t much, but the descriptions by Hawthorne are extremely vivid, something I would do well to study, as I’ve been told my own are sketchy and plain. The tale centers around the fancy of a young man who thinks he has caught sight of a lovely girl in a spring and then a rainbow, who yearns for her an entire season, then discovers her once again right before departure. A forlorn tale, for sure, but one that both highlights the intensity of young love, even imagined, and the facts of the situation.
“Fancy’s Show Box: A Morality” — This is basically a sermon about whether a human has committed a sin if they merely thought about doing it rather than performing the actual act. I’ll save you the trouble of reading it by saying Hawthorne’s opinion is that, while it takes an act to seal a person’s guilt, people should be careful not to judge those who did act, for they are stained with the strong possibility that they could have committed the crime, and the only judge is eternity.
“Dr. Heidegger’s Experiment” — Another morality tale, but a slightly more clever premise: give four old people who were all horrible in their youths and middle age the chance to turn back the years with a drink from the Fountain of Youth, and will they have learned their lesson and decide to do better the second time around? That’s the experiment, and whether the water is an actual elixir or simply a delusional drug isn’t the issue, it’s the reaction by these four and Heidegger’s interpretation of the results. The style is not the fashion of today, but the story is well done and amusing.
“Legends of the Province-House” — Four (kinda ghost) tales (“Howe’s Masquerade,” "Edward Randolph's Portrait," "Lady Eleanore's Mantle," and "Old Esther Dudley”) about the house of the colonial governors of the US, mainly interesting for the insight into that period of American history and the transition between the British governance and the newly formed country. It’s a bit like trying to read Ulysses, however, in that we are so far removed now from that time period that the names of the governors and generals don’t resonate with us as they would have for people of the time or when Hawthorne wrote this.
“The Haunted Mind” — I’ve read a lot of flash fiction recently and one of the tendencies of writers in that form is to resort to the use of the second person to try and involve the reader. Interesting to note that this is no newfangled idea, as Hawthorne did the same, addressing the reader here as one who awakes from a dream at two in the morning and then ponders on both dreams and nightmares. And, like most stories using second person, I didn’t care for it.
“The Village Uncle: An Imaginary Retrospect” — The value today for the reader of these tales is the detailed pictures that Hawthorne is able to depict of a life in the past. This particular story is especially so, the Village Uncle being an elderly patriarch of his fishing town, once a fisherman himself, who wooed and wed and built his small cabin with the jaw of a whale for the doorway, who waxes eloquently about his entire life. The listing of the fish he once caught, the fun and sad tales of what he saw overtake others, and then, finally, his view on the everlasting: one could use this story alone as the background for setting one’s own story in this past.
“The Ambitious Guest” — Well, that story went somewhere that I didn’t expect. What seems to be a simple story about a traveler coming to a place secluded under the mountain on a trail, happy to share their hearth and food, turns out to be a surprising rendition of the 17th century version of being hit by a semi when crossing the road. The point, I gather, is to note that one must live for the moment.
“The Sister Years” — Not so much a story as an extended metaphor in which the Old Year and the New Year are personified as sisters passing in the night, mainly intended as a method by which to denounce the perfidy of humans, or perhaps a warning or admonition to do better in the coming year. The amusing aside about politics, including the trouble with Texas, was the best part of it.
“Snow-Flakes” — Another “tale” that’s not much of a story but a descriptive personification of concepts, in this case, Old Man Winter and that tart, Spring. Hey, it allows Hawthorne to show off his vocabulary and imagination. But I still want more.
“The Seven Vagabonds” — Seven people gather in a wagon during a drenching rain, seven very different people, all with a purpose to go to a meeting. They share their professions, with the narrator, an itinerate novelist barely managing to gain any respect from the others: a puppet master, a bookseller, a young man and woman musicians with a slide show, a fortune-teller, and a native American. It’s not a story, but a vignette used to describe these characters of the time.
“The White Old Maid” — Every so often when reading a story these days (and I mean a newly written ones, not just the ones from a century or two ago), I simply fail to follow what’s happening in the story. That’s the case with this one. I have no idea who these two women are, what exactly their “deal,” nor how the ending resolves all of it. I’m just confused.
“Peter Goldthwaite’s Treasure” — A longish tale, but an interesting one, about a man whose treasure is said to be left him by his grandfather somewhere in the house and who then proceeds to deconstruct the dwelling until he finds it. And, when he does, what he finds the treasure consists of.
“Chippings with a Chisel” — More of a thought(ful) piece than a story, this is a series of vignettes occasioned by the narrator’s friendship with a sculptor of tombstones, commenting on the many and varied things people have carved into such for the recently or (in some cases) nearly departed. There’s a moral here, though, about the usefulness and questionable necessity of granite markers for the dead that’s not quite as straightforward as one might expect.
“The Shaker Bridal”— One gets the feeling from reading this story that Hawthorne was not a fan of the Shaker sect, for his depiction of the enforced loveless austerity of these members is not joyful or kind. The story, in fact, ends on a note that indicates at least one person regrets having joined. From a modern point-of-view, the story is interesting for how it depicts how some people can choose to set themselves apart from the world, which still happens today.
“Night Sketches” — As the title implies, this is not so much a story as an exercise in description. The would-be writer can use this kind of thing, as Hawthorn had a way with capturing the people and settings of his time, so that if one were to be writing a historical story set in this period, Bob’s your uncle.
“Endicott and the Red Cross” — Not much of a story, but at least it tries to be a story rather than a sketch like the last couple of pieces. The tale is simple: Endicott, a Puritan leader, gets news from the Governor that the King of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury intends to, by edict and more, control the religion of the colonies. In response, he takes the red cross from the flag, signifying his break with king and church. The most interesting thing about this story, however, may be an early aside describing people who had been in the pillory as well as those in observance, including one woman who had artfully embroidered a scarlet A that she had to wear on her clothing. Thirteen years later, Hawthorne would publish an entire book about her.
“The Lily’s Quest” — Quite a depressing tale of two lovers trying to find a place for the pantheon of happiness, with a sour and dour figure always finding something ugly in the past that had happened for every spot they find. It shows Hawthorne’s imagination to come up with so many ugly scenarios, as well as the overall story, which supposedly ends in a moral, but one that seems to have been undercut by the story itself.
“Foot-Prints on the Sea-Shore” — Another rumination, showing off Hawthorne’s skill in description, as he takes off for a meditative day on the beach. His ability to paint a picture of the shore is unmatched; I just wish there was a story there to accompany it.
“Edward Fane’s Rosebud” — Many of Hawthorne’s short stories talk about young lovers who were not meant to be, as the times he wrote about had ideas about the propriety of whom married whom, the colonies having inherited some of the classism of the old world even as they struggled to make their lives in a new land. This story is about the woman of such a couple, whose lover’s mother would not see him attached to a young lady not of his station, and so she is spurned to then marry a man much older than herself, becoming his nurse as his infirmities take hold, and having done that, to find her calling to be a nurse to others in the community on their death beds until, at last, her first lover also is on his. And now that I’ve summarized it for you, is it worth reading? Yes, because Hawthorne imbues all of this with much more pathos than I’ve even attempted.
“The Threefold Destiny: A Faery Legend” — It’s not really a fairy story, although there’s a fanciful quality to it. Instead, it’s about a dreamer who left the poor New England village where he grew up to explore the world, only to find that the fancies of his dreams were to be found back in the village. I liked it as much as I like “It’s a Wonderful Life”—that is, not very much. I don’t care for the moral of either.