Some critics complain
of the extent to which Roman scenery and the artistic life in Rome have
been introduced; but, to my mind, there is scarcely a word wasted in the
two volumes. The "vague sense of ponderous remembrances" pressing down
and crowding out the present moment till "our individual affairs are but
half as real here as elsewhere," is essential to the perspective of the
whole; and nothing but this rich picturesqueness and variety could avail
to balance the depth of tragedy which has to be encountered; so that the
nicety of art is unquestionable. It is strange, indeed, that this great
modern religious romance should thus have become also the ideal
representative of ruined Rome--the home of ruined religions--in its
aesthetic aspects. But one instance of appreciation must be recorded
here, as giving the highest pitch of that delightful literary fellowship
which Hawthorne seems constantly to have enjoyed in England. His friend
John Lothrop Motley, the historian, wrote thus of "The Marble Faun,"
from Walton-on-Thames, March 29, 1860:--
"Everything that you have ever written, I believe, I have read many
times, and I am particularly vain of having admired 'Sights from a
Steeple,' when I first read it in the Boston 'Token,' several hundred
years ago, when we were both younger than we are now; of having detected
and cherished, at a later day, an old Apple-Dealer, whom, I believe, you
have unhandsomely thrust out of your presence, now that you are grown so
great.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301