itself in the pursuit of image patterns,nconsidering the detection of such patternsnas an end in itself rather than asna means Hawthorne used to explore thenproblem of moral growth.nMellow often highlights biographicalninformation that is closely connectednwith the novels and stories. Such informationncould serve as a salutary remedynfor overly ingenious formalistic interpretation.nWe must never discount thenresourcefulness and possibilities of thencreative imagination, but it is good fornus to know that something is in the storynprimarily because it was in the author’snexperience. This may temper the interpretivenuse we make of it.nA second approach to Hawthorne thatnallows for enjoyment and appreciationnwithout requiring an understanding ofnor sympathy for his Puritanism is tonfocus on the element of romance. Henmade a distinction between the novelnand the romance, preferring the latternbecause it permitted him a latitude hendesired in treating human experience.nThis is where the characteristic of thenweird enters—mystery, fantasy, abnormalnpsychology, hints of the supernaturalnand occult. The taste for suchnthings is perennial, and, judging by thencurrent vogue of fantasy, horror storiesnand science fiction, is presently at anhigh point.nBut this approach is also incomplete,nbecause it fails to recognize that thenelements of romance are only instrumental.nAs Hawthorne explains in thenpreface to The House of the SevennGables, he makes use of romance to treatnmore profoundly “the truth of the humannheart.” And he had some penetratingnand important things to say aboutnthe human heart. Many of them have tondo with the question of reform.nrdawthorne’s attitude toward reformnis hardly one to appeal to the modernnliberal. His age was one of numerous reformnmovements: agitation for peace,ntemperance, women’s rights, prison andnasylum reform, the abolition of capitalnpunishment, the abolition of slavery andnthe equalization of wealth. Contrary tonthe common misconception that he wasna recluse detached from the affairs ofnthe real world, Hawthorne was in fact annalert citizen with wide interests. Mellow’snbiography makes this clear. He wasninformed concerning reform movements,nand he was skeptical of them.nPart of his skepticism derived from firsthandnobservation of reformers amongnhis neighbors, his in-laws and at BrooknFarm.nHe seemed to share Thoreau’s opinionnthat doing-good “is one of the professionsnwhich are full.” Thoreau alsonnoted that “There are a thousand hackingnat the branches of evil to one who isnstriking at the root. …” Hawthorne,nas Arlin Turner suggests, “seems tonhave thought and to have said indirectly,nthat while the reformers were busy withnthe surface manifestations, he was probing,nin his works, at the source of allncrime and wrong and suffering.” Henbelieved regeneration must come fromnwithin—an affair of the heart, the religiousnaffections, not merely the intellect.nIn “Earth’s Holocaust” afternreformers have tossed into the conflagrationnall things that promote miserynand injustice, a “dark visaged stranger,nwith a portentous grin,” reminds themnthat the human heart remains. “And unlessnthey hit upon some method of purifyingnthat foul cavern, forth from it willnreissue all the shapes of wrong and misery—thensame old shapes or worse onesn—which they have taken such a vast dealnof trouble to consume to ashes.” Hawthornenwould be appalled by our century’snpolitical illusion that all problemsnare capable of a political solution. Fornhim, legislative fiat is insufficientnwhere the nature of man is intricatelynconcerned.nHawthorne set himself against thenreform impulse of his age not becausenits Utopian aims were undesirable, butnbecause (as he said of John Brown) itn”preposterously miscalculated the possibilities.”nMoreover, the reform impulsenwas often idealism in the abstract.n”In the grand scheme of reform,” he ob­nnnserved, “the objects of charity were ofnless concern than the charity itself.”nIdealism in the abstract is mistakennidealism that can damage human tiesnand tear the social fabric. On the whole,nhe once remarked, the conservativesn”are the best worth knowing. The others,nwith all their zeal for novelty, donnot seem to originate anything; and onenfeels, as it were, a little disgusted to findnthem setting forth their poor little viewsnof progress, especially if one happensnto have been a Brook Farmer.” It wasnimpossible for a man like Hawthorne tonbe an enthusiastic partisan. The tenornof his mind and his capacity for imaginationnput him altogether out of harmonynwith the passion of the hour. Asnone of his contemporaries whom Mellownquotes puts it, “His keen intellectnserved to show him the weaknesses andnvanities and vulgarities of the wholenclass of reformers.”nOne of the characteristics that distinguishednHawthorne from his reformernfriends was what his son Julian callednhis “unfailing humor.” It was a humornoriginating in skepticism, an ironic,noften whimsical view quick to recognizenincongruities. It often took the formnof self-effacing comments on his ownnwriting and behavior, of which Mellownhas provided a generous number of examples.nA man like Hawthorne, who didnnot take himself too seriously, was annunlikely candidate for the fervid reformingnpostures expected by his liberalnfriends and in-laws.nA third approach that allows one tonacknowledge Hawthorne’s significancenwithout confronting his Puritanism andnconservatism is to read one’s own modernnviews into his works. Like all greatnliterature, his work is complex andnrichly suggestive, and consequently pliablento adaptation to one’s own predispositions.nFor example, in doing somenhomework for his review of Mellow’snbook for Newsweek, Walter Clemons’snmind was “set on fire” by the storyn”Wakefield.” In talking about it, henuses terms like “existential abyss,”nMarch/April 1981n