Il Primo Libro

Hurrah! My first book has just been published and is ready for you and your children's enjoyment. You may find it by clicking on the title of this posting (found above).
I would love to hear your thoughts about the plot and/or how you think it reads for children. Hopes of continuing to write so your critiques are most necessary. Cheers tutti!

Reflections Upon Franklin’s Savages

In Benjamin Franklin’s essay “Remarks Concerning the Savages of North America,” he contrasts the American and the Native American peoples, showing how their ideas regarding “politeness,” (226) or accepted civilized behaviors, vastly differ. He objectivity shows how the American idea of politeness is not necessarily the best standard to follow nor that is it superior to that of the Natives. By pointing out the hypocrisy of the impatient American and the genuinely kind and generous Savage, Franklin forces one to ask themselves “What makes one civil? What makes one savage?” Writing in defense of the Natives, Franklin proves that indeed, Americans have much to learn from the Natives on how to be polite. However, this writer’s perspective is that both the Natives and the Americans have something to learn from each other. While Franklin rightly reveals the good found among Native Americans, he does not equally express the good that American people can give to the Natives. On the one hand, Americans need to learn how to treat different people with respect and common courtesy, while the Natives needed to learn the importance of education and the means of how to live among contemporary society.
Although Native people are labeled Savage, Franklin nevertheless shows them to be more polite than the typical “civil” American. Franklin justly represents how the Natives posses qualities worthy of imitation. For example, he explains how the Natives take great care to show respect towards others. They have something they call the “rule of politeness” which means one is “not to answer a public proposition the same day it is made; [since] they think it would be treating it as a light matter”(227) if they do. They take to heart the relationships they have with others to try and maintain that sense of formality, thus showing their sincerity. Furthermore, when they conduct public councils, the man to speak rises while the “rest observe a profound silence”(227) They believe “[t]o interrupt another, even in common conversation, is reckoned highly indecent”(227). Comparing the Natives’ meetings to those of the British House of Commons, Franklin states “how different from the mode of conversation in many polite companies in Europe, where if you do not deliver your sentence with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it…”(227). Indeed, this aspect of politeness escapes the minds of “polite” society and is something people even in our own day still need to learn.
Another quality they possess is their deep sense of hospitality. Whenever travelers found themselves along the Native villages, the Natives saw they had a “vacant dwelling” (229) to rest in. They would provide them with complimentary “victuals, and skins to repose on” (229), have communal conversation, and extend them free service if they desired it. Contrarily, when the Natives entered American villages for their needs, the people asked “Where is your money? and if [they] have none, they say ‘Get out you Indian dog’”(230).Such an exchange demonstrates the fact that hospitality was not a strong virtue among “polite” society and that verily, the “Savage” often proved themselves the more civil, or polite, of the two peoples.
While the Natives were good in many respects, they did have need for the knowledge the Americans possessed. Their life and culture had to adjust to modern society which was rapidly enveloping their world. If the Natives were to assimilate into this new world, they needed to be educated. Franklin does not offer his opinion on the subject; instead, he provides the narration of an Indian and his opinion of what happened to Indians who studied in the American education system. The Native states “when they came back to us, they were back runners, ignorant of the means of living in the woods, unable to bear cold and hunger, knew neither how to build a cabin, take a deer, or kill an enemy[…]they were totally good for nothing”(227). This passage reflects the Native belief that, if one could no longer perform certain actions in their community, they were of no use. Yet, this is false reasoning; the Natives could be educated and still retain their identity and usefulness. Indeed, it was good for them to learn how to live outside of the wilds of nature; it was good for them to be introduced to a world that provided them with the laws of truth relating to religion and science; it was good for them to open their minds to reality instead of error and myth. Again, while Franklyn does not insinuate his opinion, it might be assumed that he, being a man of such learning, would probably want to see these people instructed so to help them in the ways of modernity. While one cannot know for sure reading his essay, it makes for a worthy reflection. Regardless of his opinion, however, the truth remains that these people needed to grow in truth, in knowledge and in grace which the western world was able to extended to them.
So yes, while Franklin validly acknowledges the Native’s natural politeness which many Americans did not imitate, he fails to acknowledge the fact that Americans also had much to offer. The Natives had a need to be educated in the ways of truth so to be assimilated into the modern world which they could not escape. Ideally, if the Americans had learned manners from the Natives and the Natives the knowledge from the Americans, both would have been much better off, for such would have been acts of true human politeness.

Romantic Eyre's

In the twenty-first century, when a person is told something is romantic they almost always visualize one individual expressing their love to another by means of sweet and simple (or sometimes not so simple) acts of affection. Receiving flowers, writing hyperbolized letters of amorous sentiment, eating dinner by candlelight or sailing on a gondola down a Venetian lagoon while sipping Chianti are a few examples of what contemporaries might define as romantic. However, though this current view of romanticism is not incorrect, it does not provide the most complete explanation of the concept. For in truth romanticism is a profoundly multifarious concept, though not to the point of inconceivability. To best illustrate the fullness of the word’s meaning, one can look to a piece of literature written from the professed “Romantic” period; one such piece is Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. This novel is romantic for it truly represents the complexity, the depth and the richness found in the minds of men during this period of literary history. By reflecting upon the time in which Brontë wrote and then comparing her piece with other author’s from this period such as William Blake, William Wordsworth and Lord Byron, one can see what it historically meant to be a romantic and that indeed Jane Eyre justly falls under that category. Through her stress upon the simple man, nature and feelings, Bronte helps paint a new picture in the minds of readers as to what it means to be romantic and thus that the two ideas of romanticism, both the old and the new, can be harmonious and work together to create a beautiful masterpiece of literary art.

The first romantic aspect of this piece is its emphasis upon the simple man. Jane Eyre is a piece set in the early nineteenth century, a time of great industrial change. Most romantics were known to be anti-industrial since they saw the injury industry caused to the common folk and thus they emphasized the importance of the simple man in their works. Jane Eyre portrays this. Jane Eyre herself is a commoner. She is not wealthy. She is plain and is, in fact, an orphan, yet she is the protagonist of the story. She is the focal point of this portrait we study. The fact that Brontë chose her to write about is proof of her sympathy for and her glorification of the simple or common man/woman. This emphasis upon the simple folk predominated many minds . This theme can also be seen in such works as “Chimney Sweeper” and “We Are Seven” by the free thinking William Blake. Both his poems and Jane Eyre regarded the people of England such as they were. They exposed the abuse, the neglect and the sufferings endured by the innocent people due to the conditions which they were forced to embrace. People died and suffered the loss of those they loved: Jane’s parents both died in her early infancy, her best friend, Helen Burn, died of tuberculosis at a young age and Jane herself nearly lost her life after leaving Thornfield in her attempt to start over. Times were merciless for the poor and little pity was given to them, however the writers from this period were not blind their miseries and thus they wished to highlight the importance and the power of the simple and stressed that these people were worthy of recognition by society.

The second romantic aspect in the novel is the importance of nature. Nature for the romantic was what wine was for the drunk. Nature was where all things came to life; it was where the soul could breathe and find itself. Brontë likes to use great desciptive imagery when telling the tale of Jane Eyre. This importance of the country and of nature is pivital to the romantic since it was meant to encourage people not to destroy the beauty of creation but to preserve it. With industialization claiming the land, many individuals wanted England to stop pushing for progress and to stay in the natual setting for it was here that man was truly “enlightened”. Bronte it appears was one who sided more in favor with this reform than not. Jane, though a very precocious young lady and loved to study, nevertheless wanted an escape from all she knew. She wanted to experience life, she wanted to be in nature and see the world for the majestic splendor it possessed. One of her favorite spots at Thornfield was on the roof of the house, overlooking the courtyard and the green valleys. And by no coincidence did Jane both meet and consent to marry Edward Rochester in a “natural’ setting. This impression of nature and its power upon the soul was seen in other works of romantics during this time. One such poet, William Wordsworth, was notorious for his belief in and infatuation with nature. Nature for him was everything. It was where the spirit of creation conceived itself in the minds of people. As with Brontë, his works emphasized the simple man, but simple man in nature. His famous poem “Tables Turned” epitomizes Bronte’s idea of finding oneself in nature and that books are not where true wisdom is gained. It is in nature that one is touched and learns who one really is. For Jane the importance of nature was not as overtly intimate as was the case in Wordsworth, yet nevertheless she allowed nature to play a vital role in her development as a woman. Nature was her mother, it taught her how to love and to say yes to love through its powerful influence upon her.

A third concept frequently noted by romantics is the power of feelings (or passion) over reason. This idea is one of the more predominant themes of this time and is one continually recurring in Jane Eyre. When Jane was a girl she voiced her opinion to her Aunt, Mrs. Reed, and in a paroxism of emotion told her what she truly felt though she knew she could easily be scolded for doing so. This free expression of emotion was clearly encouraged by Brontë. Now as Jane matured, though she no longer yelled her opinions at others, she however believe in making herself understood, especially in regard to Mr. Rochester. In point of fact, it may have been her frankness with him that made her win his love. Additionally Mr. Rochester, the man of complete emotional expression could be rightly called passion incarnate. He was not a man to be restrained by reason; he did what he wanted regardless of the consequences. He knew that he was married, but would have married Jane adulterously. He detested formalities, he played games with life, he was a true example of what writers called the Byronic hero. This dark, chauvanistic character originated from yet another romantic poet, Lord Byron. Another work from this period which used this classic romantic figure was Byron’s famous comic epic, Don Juan. The type of man who seduces women by ego and force is one image of what was attractive to the romantic writer. Brontë uses both passion and the Byronic hero, two powerful tools to mold her story and chisel into the minds of her readers the significance of emotion and of doing what one feels is right over what one thinks is right. That Jane decides to marry Edward after all that happened, knowing him to be blind and deformed yet still choosing to give herself to him regardless of her reputation is representative of this kind of mentality that love or emotion conquers all. The power of the heart is greater than gold and nothing should discourage a person from seeking or from doing what in their heart they feel is right.

Therefore in looking at Jane Eyre one will see that it is a novel that fulfills both definitions of what it means to be romantic. It touches subjects such as the power of the simple man, the importance of nature and the power of feelings while also telling a moving story of two people who are madly in love with each other. This story can then be poetically called the marriage of the old with the new since it unites the two understandings of romanticism so seamlessly that it would seem as if all stories were meant to be written this way. Jane Eyre is romantic and hence it is an artistic masterpiece in literary form.

The New Me

Wow, I feel as though returning to this blog I am revisiting an old room I once lived in and yet long to return to and sit and peruse through the pages of entries and just reminisce upon the many places I have been since I was last within its walls. I must admit that although I have these feelings currently, I had been absenting this blog deliberately, why I cannot quite explain, but it will suffice to say that I felt its call long enough and am now here to revivify it once again. I am forcing myself to sit down and write about something, anything, I just need to write! Now what about? Well, I have since been married, am expecting my first baby, have moved to another state, am a stay at home wife and am going absolutely crazy with boredom! And that's all I wrote and have no idea why.
I'll leave it at that, because I never did get back to writing this blog entry until today, which is three years later. Briefly, I survived a hellish beginning of much rushed into marriage, and God be praised I did as I am stronger person for it. Gray hairs abound, but that's what fighting vanity is all about, right? I wish I had written more at the time since I think it would have helped me melt the interior walls that I built around me at that time and that have only recently begun to fall.

Anyway, the point I want to make is that it's never advisable to do anything out of guilt or pity for another person, esp getting married. Take this advice and never settle, not for anything. Your life will be much better for it.

This is not a post to rant on about the woes of married life because it can be beautiful, but not always. For those who like myself are not in a happy marriage, here is one comforting thought to remember -- if you look back at the lives of married saints, most of them were in bad marriages as well. And what does that teach us? That although life is hard and you just want to run away from that person and never look back, that they are an instrument of God and can lead you ever closer to that eternal paradise where no tears fall and where sadness dissipates like the morning dew of spring. Take comfort in your sorrows for you know that this burden is a weight meant to lift you higher and not to taken you down. You can get terribly distracted and emotionally bruised if you don't keep this in mind when you're suffering so take heart and know that you are not alone, and that God is with you, even in those most frightful of moments.

Interpreting Apparent Meanings in Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini’s Daughter”

For those of you out there in cyber world wondering if I fell off the earth or fled to Mt. Athos, well I;m still here, but am about to become a newly married woman very shortly and hence my time has been consumed preparing for this new wondeful change of vocations. I ask you all to please keep me and my beloved in your prayers. Hence, until my life settles down a bit, I thought to post an essay I wrote on the position of Nathaniel Hawthorne towards feminism and the scientific age as seen in his short story "Rappaccini's Daughter"( a veritable masterpiece). Although the topic discussed is not of particular interest to me, I thought I did a descent job presenting my arguement. I leave it now for you to decide....Ciao.



When reading a story, the personal opinions or biases of an author can often be assumed through the ways in which a text is written. By looking at a story’s characters, conflicts, climax and conclusion, the reader can usually distill basic ideas regarding the attitudes of the writer and their positions on topics surrounding the text. However, while this notion is true in some instances, it is not true in all. There are those occasions when a text can mislead a reader by giving them a false impression about the author, thus encouraging them to presume things that are not true. Such is the case with Nathaniel Hawthorne and his famous 19th century short story, “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” In this narrative, it can be argued that Nathaniel Hawthorne is both feminist and anti-scientific, due to the way he constructs his characters and the conflicts that arise between them. The way Hawthorne represents science, men and the victimized woman in this tale, one cannot help but believe that he held such positions. However, when looking at the personal life and letters of Hawthorne, these impressions must be disregarded; for indeed, Hawthorne does not possess the attitudes towards women and science which might be supposed. After researching this subject, it can be concluded that although there is objective justification to support the idea that Hawthorne was feminist and anti-science, such was not the case. Hawthorne did not in fact support the idea of any kind of feminism nor did he oppose the workings of science and the advancement of technology, demonstrating that his text’s meaning will never be fully known.

The first action to take in trying analyzing this topic is to understand the plot surrounding “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” The story opens introducing Giovanni, a young handsome medical student who comes to Padua, Italy to study. Residing in an apartment beside the garden of the “tall, emaciated, sallow, and sickly-looking man,” Signor Giacomo Rappaccini, Giovanni often looks out into the garden to view the beautiful flowers which he discovers are created by the hands of this “famous doctor” (Hawthorne). Upon seeing the beautiful Beatrice, Rappaccini’s daughter, he falls immediately in love and wants to get to know her. However, because Beatrice is unable to survive outside the garden, being that her father has poisoned her by means of corrupt scientific experimentation, she tries to keep a physical distance from Giovanni while developing a Platonic relationship with him from afar, though within the garden walls. With little hints as to the reality of her poisonous nature, such as when the healthy bouquet of flowers dies by her touch, Giovanni wonders about the nature of this delicate living beauty. A friend of Giovanni’s father, Pietro Baglioni, a “professor of medicine,” knows of Rappaccini and warns Giovanni of his affiliation with his daughter, stating she is instructed “deeply in [Rappaccini’s] science”(Hawthorne). He explains that Rappaccini is a corrupt scientist who uses his daughter in scientific experiments, and that Giovanni himself is the new subject of one of his malicious investigations. Giovanni, however, being enticed by Beatrice’s innocence, beauty and mystery, refuses his counsel and becomes intimately involved with her, visiting the garden regularly, slowly becoming immune to the poison which surrounds him. After some time, Giovanni realizes he himself is poisonous and has been bated by Rappaccini through his daughter. Wanting to kill Beatrice and blaming her for his vile state, he yells:
"Yes, poisonous thing!..Thou hast done it! Thou hast blasted me! Thou hast filled my veins with poison! Thou hast made me as hateful, as ugly, as loathsome and deadly a creature as thyself--a world's wonder of hideous monstrosity!"(Hawthorne)
Yet, Beatrice sincerely loving him, tries to explain the situation and tells him she wanted no harm to come to him:

I dreamed only to love thee and be with thee a little time, and so to let thee pass away, leaving but thine image in mine heart; for, Giovanni, believe it, though my body be nourished with poison, my spirit is God's creature, and craves love as its daily food (Hawthorne).

Ultimately, Giovanni tries to help her but ends in only making her worse. For not only does Beatrice become a victim of her father’s science, so too does she becomes a victim of Giovanni and Baglioni who together, give her an elixir which Giovanni thinks will heal her, yet which Baglioni (though not overtly stated) knows might kill her. Moments after she drinks the fluid, she ends her life, while saying with her last breath “Oh, was there not, from the first, more poison in thy [Giovanni’s] nature than in mine?" (Hawthorne).

From this very basic overview, it is not illogical to perceive Hawthorne as a feminist and anti-science/anti-Industrialist activist. The very premise of the story supports this reasoning as it surrounds itself around a young, innocent girl who dies as a result of two sources: one, selfish men who seek to possess, control, or subvert her, and two, corrupt scientific experimentation. Clearly one would think Hawthorne would subscribe to these aforementioned positions. Yet, before making any judgments, one must first locate texts which treat the potential correlation between the author and these corresponding subjects, and then look at how Hawthorne himself reacted towards these issues within his personal life.

Concerning Hawthorne and feminism, there are many articles which discuss the relationship between him and his “feminist” texts. One work by Richard H. Millington focuses upon how Hawthorne addresses the male-female relationship in his works such as “Rappaccini’s Daughter” and “The Birth-Mark.” He states:
In these encounters, male characters--their underlying anxiousness and aggression disguised as ambition or obsession--refuse the invitation to full, complex, and humane life offered by their female counterparts. These acts of neurotic refusal punish--and even kill off--the women and yield to the male characters the utterly empty lives they seem all along to seek (Millington).

Certainly, looking at Beatrice this statement appears valid. The three men involved with her, whether directly or indirectly, punish her for the purpose of their own selfish ends, only to return to their lives of loneliness and dissatisfaction. Beatrice is the one thing in all three men’s lives that is pure and truly innocent, yet, they do not allow her to remain so. Thus, by wanting to possess or protect Beatrice’s beauty, virtue or knowledge, all three men ultimately destroy her. While Beatrice is truly not who Giovanni or Baglioni want to avenge, they nonetheless use her as the scapegoat for their wrath towards Rappaccini. In truth, Beatrice is the “Pascal flower” sacrificed for the sake of all three men’s pride.
Supporting this supposition is commentator Richard Brenzo, who comments in his article “Beatrice Rappaccini: A Victim of Male Love and Horror,” about the perverted relationships all three men have with Beatrice. The three-fold relationship Beatrice has with these men (her father, lover, and professional rival), shows the ways in which she “becomes a focus for these men’s fantasies, fears, and desires, and is credited with (or at least punished for) various evil intentions which in fact spring from within the minds of the three men” (Brenzo 153). Explaining how the men are the truly poisoned figures, he writes:

Each man represents a typical male role might find a woman threatening, and might therefore try to destroy her. Giovanni, her lover and almost-husband, desires her sexuality, yet fears its power to dominate and destroy him. Baglioni, her professional rival, feeling insecure about his university position, tries to neutralize her by diverting her energies to woman's proper sphere, marriage. Her father wants her beautiful enough to win a husband, dependent enough to remain in his home, obedient enough to do his bidding, and compliant enough to be molded to his standards. None of these men could have been portrayed as feeling these same fears, with the same intensity, about a man. Notice, for example, that Baglioni views his struggle with Rappacini almost as a game, with a rather gentlemanly tone. Only with Beatrice does he play for keeps (Brenzo 151).

Basically, these commentators make readers ask themselves, “Who has the more guilt: the poison or the poisoner?” While Beatrice is poisoned, it is not by her own doing, but by those around her. She is the victim of the poison, though not the poisoner. Additionally, the poison she claims is merely external, whereas the poison the men possessed, though not externally fatale, was nonetheless deadly. Ironically, although Beatrice could have been the perfect femme fatale figure, she respected the power of science and did not use it to kill. She chose rather to love and to seek love, and yet she could not find it except in death.

By reflecting over these interpretations of “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” one could easily perceive, and perhaps even support, the feminist argument that Beatrice is the paradigm of what innocent women suffer a the hands of dominating men, and thus contend that Hawthorne was undeniably an early feminist sympathizer. In the face of such opinions, however, one must ask themselves, “Am I getting the whole picture here? Is there more to this that is not being said? What does Hawthorne himself think and/or say about women outside of his fictional works?” Researching the life of Hawthorne regarding his opinion of women writer’s for example, he does not infer any evidence that he himself is a closet feminist, let alone a feminist activist.
While Hawthorne had a great love for women and respected them as any true gentleman would, he nonetheless proved himself to be a man deeply against having women write for the public, and deeply resented the fact they did at all. At a point in his life when he was struggling to get his writings in print, he wrote a letter addressed to his publisher, William D. Ticknor in 1855 stating:

America is now wholly given over to a damned mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash--and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumberable editions of The Lamplighter [by Maria Susanna Cummins], and other books neither better nor worse? Worse they could not be, and better they need not be, when they sell by the hundred thousand (Baym).

Clearly there is no implication of feminism in these words. Hawthorne has no desire to provide women the same opportunities he enjoys. Verily, he wishes they did not written at all as they are competing, and succeeding, in gaining the publics attention. Moreover, when writing to his wife about his impressions regarding this escalation of female writers, he comments:

My dearest, I cannot enough thank God, that with a higher and deeper intellect than any other woman, thou hast never—forgive the bare idea!—never prostituted thyself to the public, as that woman [Grace Greenwood] has, and as a thousand others do. It does seem to me to deprive women of all delicacy; it has pretty much an effect on them as it would to walk abroad through the streets, physically stark naked. Women are too good for authorship, and that is the reason it spoils them so (Baym 24).

Hawthorne illustrates that he does not wish women to write since , as he says, they are too good for it. To be sure, this is not a man a feminist would dare tolerate. His way of crafting women as merely delicate creatures unfit for the honest exposure writing has upon their minds and hearts, would most likely not be well received by a feminist of any generation. Therefore, while “Rappaccini’s Daughter” alludes to Hawthorne’s projected state of mind, it must be remembered that such statements boldly refute such assumptions.

Similarly, with regard to the subject of science, the apparent impression that Hawthorne was adamantly distrusting of science and the booming age of Industrialism is not to be held. Not surprisingly, Hawthorne did not dislike science to the extent “Rappaccini’s Daughter” suggests. As Dave Berry retorts in his essay “Hawthorne and the Scientific Mind,” “Hawthorne didn't hate science. He recognized its great power, and the great benefits to be derived from a proper use of it. The problem stems from the fact that science is a human tool and therefore subject to human abuse.” So science, for Hawthorne, was a good which could be used for one’s own selfish desires and therefore needed to be respected with a certain fear. Elsewhere, as Henry G.Fairbanks acknowledges in his work “Hawthorne and the Age of the Machine”

Towards the machine as such, as toward the scientist in se, [Hawthorne] never displayed unenlightened hostility. It was only when the spirit of the savant, or the operation of the machine, effected an unnatural subversion of the human element that Hawthorne spoke with accents that might seem to identify him with the laudatory temporis acti. Hence, science could be used for the advancement of the good of others, so long as man did not use science as a a means to “arrogate to [one]self a totalitarian control of both man and the universe”(Fairbanks 163).

The possibility for corruption within science troubled him more than the mere presence of science in the modern world. Additionally, being a friend of the Transcendentalist movement, Hawthorne wished to evolve with the times and yet still retain the elements of the spiritual and the natural worlds which were elemental aspects of man’s existence. As Fairbanks well asserts:

His strong sense of integration compelled him to regard the whole experience of man steadfastly and to see it according to an ancient hierarchy which placed spiritual values uppermost. It was not, then, that he admired the scientist or his machine less, but that he loved man more.

Science was not to be despised or condemned, rather it needed to be utilized by people to increase the for the good and not towards evil which is what he might have implied in “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” It appears Hawthorne believed man was to be blamed for the corruption of science and not science for the corruption of man, since science was merely the tool of the wrongdoer and not the wrongdoer itself. This would be much like blaming the gun for a murder instead of the murderer himself. This distinction must be noted, for the alleged meaning within the text might lead one to believe Hawthorne completely disregarded the benefits to be found within modern science, which he surely did not do. Science had its place in the world which Hawthorne undoubtedly recognized, yet which he also acknowledged as a potential threat to humanity if put in the hands of crooked men.

Thus after reviewing the story’s plotline, considering its apparent meanings, and then comparing these meanings with essays discussing the actual opinions held by Hawthorne, one can distill how the work does not accurately reflect the mind of its author. This clear contradiction between the text’s seeming objective implications and its author’s personal position on the matters addressed, indicates that a work, though replete with possible personal perspectives of the author, can indeed be a false assumption. Thus, when reading works which appear to argue certain positions, be careful not to claim these ideas the author’s own, for such could very well be one’s false attempt to interpret a writer’s apparent meanings where indeed there is none.








Works Cited
Baym, Nina. “Again and Again, The Scribbling Women.” Hawthorne and Women. Ed. John Idol
Jr. and Melinda Ponder. Amherst: U of Massachusetts Press, 1999. 20-33.
Berry, Dave. “Hawthorne and the Scientific Mind.” Brave New World: The Portrayal of Science in the Writings of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. 20 Oct. 2007. U of British Columbia. 7 Nov. 2007 .
Brenzo, Richard. "Beatrice Rappaccini: A victim of Male Love and Horror." Nathaniel
Hawthorne. Ed. Harold Bloom. New York: Chelsea House Publishers. 1986. 151-153.
Fairbanks, Henry G. Hawthorne and the Machine Age. American Literature 28 (1956):155-163. JSTOR. U of Dayton, Roesch Lib. 31 Oct. 2007
< http://www.jstor.org>.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. “Rappaccini’s Daughter.” Classic Reader. 2001. 9 Oct. 2007
< http://www.classicreader.com/read.php/bookid.260/sec.>
Millington, Richard H. “The Meaning of Hawthorne’s Women.” Hawthorne In Salem. North
Shore Community College. 8 Nov. 2007 .

Underlying Ethics in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

When reading a piece of literature, it may occur that something about a text captures a reader’s attention, thus making them want to investigate the potential implications surrounding the work’s intention. Indeed, an author may frequently suggest particular themes in their novel that encourage a reader to delve more intently into the message the author wishes to assert. While many texts can create this interest, one in particular draws the reader’s attention in very poignant ways; this novel is Mary Shelley’s famous 19th century thriller, Frankenstein. After reading the text, one begins asking what Shelley wants to say to the reader. Is this a fantastical text meant to simply please the audience, or is there a more significant meaning Shelley wants the reader to consider? Indeed, Shelley raises a series of ethical questions through the actions of the novel’s protagonist, Victor Frankenstein that cannot be ignored. While Shelley writes addressing many areas of ethical importance, this essay will focus upon two of the most notable: this includes the importance of creative responsibility in parent-child relationships and in the world of modern science in general. The claim this author wishes to make therefore, is that by looking at the life of Mary Shelley, Victor Frankenstein and his creature, and modern society, one can perceive a strong correlation between the underlying ethical questions Shelley raises in her work with problems now seen in today’s contemporary society. In truth, Shelley warns her reader that when humans ignore ethical responsibility, horrific consequences will likely ensue.
Before discussing these ethical concerns within Frankenstein, one should be given a summary of the novel and the context surrounding the work. Essentially, the story involves a young, motherless Victor Frankenstein who leaves his idyllic home in Geneva where his father and adopted sister Elizabeth dwell, in order to study chemistry and natural philosophy at the university in Ingolstadt. After reading the works of Cornelius Agrippa, the sixteenth-century scholar of occult sciences, Victor becomes obsessed with discovering how to create new outside of natural means. Spending endless hours consumed with this endeavor, Victor “abandons his family and friends in attempt to win fame”, though ultimately finding the “cause of generation and life” through “physiological engineering” using electricity (Segal 861). From here, he begins gathering body parts to create his very own creature. Upon success, Victor rejects his creation due to its grotesque deformity and flees its presence. The maddened Frankenstein then becomes ill with guilt and is later told his youngest brother, William, has been murdered. Suspecting the death is due to his monster, he returns home and finds the creature crossing his path, thus confirming his suspicion. With a family friend, Justine, tried and unjustly killed for murder, Victor is again sickened with blame and leaves for the mountains to retreat and recover from the loss. While there, the creature approaches him and tells his tale, requesting he be given a companion out of justice and mercy. Upon serious deliberation and nearly completing the request, Victor ultimately refuses and destroys the female cadaver he produces. Consequently, the creature retaliates and kills those closest to Victor, going so far as to kill Victor’s bride, Elizabeth, on his wedding night, thus leaving him alone and desperate for the rest of his days. Victor, determined to kill his monster, chases him as far as the North Pole until he is rescued by a seaman to whom he tells his tale. There he dies and is then greeted by the creature who grieves over his maker and goes off into the sea to die.
The context surrounding the work is as follows. The year is 1816 and Europe is soon to embark upon the rise of the Industrial revolution. The age of science has driven men to explore aspects of life which have never been attempted. Mary Shelley, age nineteen, and knowledgeable in the areas of literature, philosophy and “familiar with the emerging trends in chemistry and electricity,” is married to the famous poet and secret “mad-scientist” Percy Bysshe Shelley (McCurdy 262). In the summer of that same year, Mary, after recently losing a child, vacations with friends Lord Byron and Dr. Polidori in Geneva, Switzerland where they each discuss composing a “horror story” (Mellor 40). With their lengthy ponderings upon the science of galvanism and the success of a Dr. Erasmus Darwin who made vermicelli move voluntarily, Mary has a frightful dream (Kemp). She describes her “waking” nightmare:
When I placed my head on my pillow, I did not sleep, nor could I be said to think. My imagination, unbidden, possessed and guided me, gifting the successive images that arose in my mind with a vividness far beyond the usual bounds of reverie. I saw – with shut eyes, but acute mental vision, -- [a pale] student of the unhallowed arts kneeling beside the thing he had put together. I saw the hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion (Lienhard).
With this horridly vivid vision deeply impressed upon her mind, Mary begins writing her tale.
However, is there more purpose to her creating this text than to simply compose a fantastic horror story based off her frightening dream? For what reason does she write this work? Is it for creative pleasure, or are there deeper ethical messages she seeks to convey to her reader? When looking at the life of Mary Shelley and the world she lives in, one perceives there is more than purely creative intention for her writing this work. With European scientists like Giovanni Aldini and Andrew Ur trying to “infuse the spark of life into [a] lifeless thing” using electrical currents (Kemp), Shelley recognizes that the attempt to create life from death is not uncommon. Yet, while she knows of these realities, she does not necessarily agree with them. Shelley states, “Frightful it must be; for supremely frightful would be the effect of any human endeavor to mock the stupendous mechanism of the Creator of the world” (Kemp). In this insightful remark, Shelley warns society of the dire consequences that can result when humans crosses ethical lines, and how without creative responsibility, man can become worse than the “monster” Frankenstein seeks to destroy. With this simple contextual background, one may now look at the ethical implications Shelley addresses.
Reflecting first upon the ethics of parental responsibility in relation to the life of Shelley and her novel, the reader will see how Shelley speaks her position through Victor Frankenstein’s character, warning society to avoid his moral crime. The necessity of parental influence and affection is elemental for children who wish for future happy relationships; this is seen in the life of Shelley. Having lost her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, at birth, Shelley is left to be raised by her father William Godwin, a philosophical revolutionary of his time (Mellor 2). As biographer Anne Mellor comments, “[w]atching the growth of this baby girl into the author of one of the most famous novels ever written…, we can never forget how much her desperate desire for a loving and supportive parent defined her characters, shaped her fantasies, and produced her fictional idealizations of the bourgeois family”(1). The role of the family and the responsibility the parent has towards its child is something that Shelley was well aware of. For when Godwin remarries to Mary Jane Clairmont Godwin, a certain jealousy engenders towards her new stepchild and her relationship with her husband, which she attempts to thwart by “limiting access to the father” (8). Though this divide does not completely separate Godwin from his daughter, it does greatly affect his relationship with her. Being home-schooled, Mary does receive attention from her governess, Louisa Jones, which gives Mary much joy as a young girl (9). Yet, despite Louisa’s fondness, Shelley feels the loss of her father’s affection. Godwin reveals his disinterest for his only biological daughter when he describes her as being “singularly bold, somewhat imperious, and active of mind” (Mellor 13)- descriptions not becoming for a young child.
As author Lisa Nocks relates, Shelley’s parents are the source of Mary’s influence for her later writings that reflect her opinions regarding the need for familial companionship. She explains how Frankenstein, particularly, is a “a source of Mary’s own feelings of abandonment which are attributed to her mother’s death, and to her father’s subsequent marriage” (Nocks 144). After becoming a young woman, having an illegitimate love affair with Percy Shelley, and then escaping the Europe to elope, William Godwin refuses to see his daughter (Claridge 18). From this time forward, their relationship never quite heals, thus impacting Shelley’s perception on this ethical subject.
This ruptured relationship with her father seemingly influences her choice to marry Percy Shelley. For despite Percy being an immoral and uncaring of a man (he abandons his pregnant wife, Harriet Westbrook, to elope with Mary), Mary follows her heart and unfortunately learns the true character of Percy, which later influences her text. For instance, Percy believes in “free and communal love” (Mellor 29) which dramatically impacts Mary’s life and relationship with her husband. For although Mary’s is pregnant, Percy fosters a love affair with Claire, Mary’s stepsister, and furthermore encourages his friend, Thomas Hogg, to have one with Mary against her wishes (30). Additionally, the disinterest Percy expresses to Mary as she grows increasingly irritated with his relationship with Claire while she suffers from the death of her newborn child, shows the lack of discernment Mary possessed in choosing a good man to marry which again, likely results from the lack of familial attention she required from her father. Yet regardless of this fact, Mary sees the necessity for a strong nuclear family with parental involvement, which she then incorporates into her work (32).
With this understanding, one can reflect back upon the novel and see this theme of the importance of parental love and responsibility being transmitted into it. Through the sequence of events Shelley constructs, she clearly represents her beliefs on parental responsibility and the side effects that can ensue when this necessity is denied. In having Victor play the role of the rejecting father, and treating his creation with repulsion and disgust, one can see how Shelley makes her reader aware of the moral evil involved in parental neglect. These implications are noticeable from the first comment Frankenstein makes in recalling the night of the creature’s incarnation. Frankenstein states, “How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? ... I beheld the wretch—the miserable monster whom I had created (Shelley 34-5). Evidently, these are not words of love and acceptance one expects from a loving parent. Furthermore, Frankenstein does not give his creature a name, but refers to him as “the filthy daemon, to whom I had given life” (Shelley 48). Not to name one’s child is a sign of gross parental rejection and something the creature wrongly suffers because of his unchosen hideous deportment.
When evaluating Frankenstein’s reasoning behind creating this being, they appear thoroughly egocentric and obviously unconcerned about the subject who would suffer the consequences of his maniacal designs. Frankenstein comments, “A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs” (Shelley 32). Is it any surprise then that a person called a “devil” and a “vile insect” (Shelley 65) by its parent retaliates against humanity, or that they become destructive after being rejected not only by society, but by the very man who created him? Surely, the defense Shelley has the creature give Frankenstein for his malevolent behaviors shows the relationship between Victor’s neglect and his bad actions. The creature pleads
Oh, Frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon
me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection,
is most due. Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam,
but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous. (Shelley 66)
In this exchange, Shelley raises the question, if a person is not wanted by a negligent parent, and knows only violence and rejection, what kind of future can that person have, but to want to cause violence and pain for others? Can they really be blamed? To illustrate how Shelley’s insights concerning the dangers of parental neglect still exist, one can look at current society.
By applying the aforementioned questions to modern society, one can discern how these ethical issues have not only gone away, but moreover support the ethical claims for parental responsibility Shelley makes in her novel. Within the past decades, the crisis involving the need for parents to show love and acceptance towards their children has not only grown significantly, but has also spawned similar tragic consequences within society. In the United States, the rise of child neglect has grown to an astronomical degree. Studies report that in 1994, there were 2.9 million reports of suspected child abuse or neglect (Carter). Interestingly, a study found by the Family Violence Prevention Fund relates that “[e]arly childhood victimization, either through direct abuse [or] neglect… has been shown to have demonstrated long-term consequences for youth violence, adult violent behavior, and other forms of criminality”(Carter). The neglect or direct abuse of children is not something to overlook since modern research shows the strong correlation between neglect/abuse and violent behavior. Interestingly, one characteristic that increases social rebellion in youth is their sense of “community cohesion” (Carter). Thus, while parental abuse can seriously damage a child, so too can community rejection. This is evidenced in Frankenstein when Shelley sees that the creature becomes violent only after society rejects him and Frankenstein’s denies him a helpmate (Nocks 146). The point to emphasize is that people need people that vital sense of belonging, acceptance and love, which allows one to live well and behave suitably within society.
As Psychiatrist Selma Fraiberg writes in her book Every Child’s Birthright, “the unnurtured, the unloved child grows into the aberrant adult—the criminal who seeks to negate his overwhelming sense of nothingness by inflicting pain on others—a scream that ‘I exist, I am’” (Claridge 21). Her insight suggests that had more criminals or juvenile delinquents been given love by their parents, their lives might not have been as wayward. Again, one must remember that the innate need of a child is to be loved. Any person, if they are to survive and function among others, must have these foundational needs met, otherwise the risk for such grave results increases significantly. In relation to Victor, he unfortunately cannot see that his “monster” acts violently due to his “overwhelming sense of despair [from] lacking human connection” (21) which Victor should have provided him. Victor therefore speaks to the point Shelley’s makes regarding the bad parent so to remind her audience of the ethical duties parents have towards their children, and furthermore to warn them of the potential repercussions irresponsible parenting can have if they fail in this regard.
The second major underlying ethical concern Shelley raises in the minds of her readers is that of the place of science within the world and the catastrophic consequences its ethical irresponsibility can have not only on individuals, but on society as a whole. While Shelley was no scholar in the study of science, she did have personal experience with those who dabbled in scientific experiments, which allowed her to see how science can potentially corrupt the minds of people. Her husband, Percy, often experimented with magic and witchcraft, becoming greatly preoccupied with electricity. In fact, Thomas Jefferson Hogg, a personal friend, comments in Percy’s biography that “amongst his other self-sought studies, he was passionately attached to the study of what used to be called the occult sciences, conjointly with that of the new wonders, which chemistry and natural philosophy [physical science] have displayed to us” (34). Interestingly, he is also said to have been Mary’s model for Frankenstein’s character, for he was the man who would “arrogantly use chemistry and electricity to create a monstrosity” (McCurdy 262). Although Mary Shelley marries him, he is not (as already described) the ideal husband, for he was “intense, radical and hotheaded” (262) and can be called the encapsulation of what one critic described as the “aspiration of modern masculine scientists to be technically creative divinities” (262). This image of the scientist making himself a type of “creative divinity” plainly reveals itself in Mary’s work. Having such personal experiences with and witnessing the effects of science (as seen through her husband), it is not surprising that she would address the subject in the novel as she herself observes the effects of this ethical danger.
In examining the text, one reads that when Victor first goes to Ingolstadt, he becomes self-absorbed in his endeavor to discover the “Vital Spark” God used to create new life (Nocks 140). Frankenstein admits a “resistless and almost frantic impulse urged me forward; I seemed to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit” (Shelley 32). However, from this crazed fixation comes side effects not only for the monster, but for Frankenstein himself. Frankenstein transforms into a man he formally was not. He is motivated by an egotistical drive that blinds him from judging things rightly. He confesses to Walton, his sea companion, “No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world” (Shelley 32). He insinuates that by his discovering the source of life, he would be enlightening the world by his intelligence. Victor reveals his rather prideful desire to manipulate the powers of life, a responsibility not meant for mortal man to possess. Blinded by his pride, Frankenstein begins to see life as something for him to toy with and, as a result, starts changing his perspective on how he looks at people.
This is apparent in the way Victor later associates with his beloved family. Although he claims to love his family to “adoration” (Shelley), he consistently ignores their request to come home. In fact, it is only upon the death of his brother William, six years later, that he sees them again. In Lisa Nock’s essay “Frankenstein, In a Better Light,” she discusses this topic, stating how the most “disturbing parts of the narrative have to do with Victor’s gradual withdrawal from his family into an isolated working frenzy in which the corpses he uses lose their significance to him as human beings and become nothing more than raw materials” (139). Verily, Frankenstein changes not only in his relationship with his family, but he also slowly starts to dehumanize those around him due to his science. For instance, Frankenstein sees his creature not as a human, but rather as a lump of human parts used for his scientific advantage and thus does not consider the ethical responsibilities he has to care for him. Consequentially, Frankenstein runs head first into disastrous and irresponsible creative experimentation.
To illustrate this truth, one can look at Frankenstein’s logic surrounding the way he constructs the body. Frankenstein is more concerned with the speed with which he makes his new creation than he is with the creature’s overall appearance. As professor Harriet Hustis explains, Frankenstein “acknowledges his unwillingness to allow seemingly insignificant minutiae to impede the progress of his creative impulse; he is interested in the principle of ‘life’ only as an abstraction.” For Victor, the creature’s appearance is insignificant; accomplishing the task takes precedence over such minor or secondary considerations. And yet, when the creature comes to life, it is precisely because of its appearance that Victor abandons it. Indeed, Victor’s scientific irresponsibility makes him more abhorrent than the victimized “monster” he seeks to destroy.
But this theme of man losing his sense of ethical boundaries and becoming monstrous through the abuse of life and science has not disappeared in the last 200 years; sadly it has only grown to astronomical proportions. Since Shelley’s time, a plethora of ethical concerns have surfaced regarding the role of science in the modern world. One underlying issue that applies to modern day is that of doctors performing an abortion, now a legal practice performed in nearly every country. Ironically, Shelley prophetically alludes to this contemporary problem when she has the creature lament, “I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on (Shelley 155). This problem of women conceiving children who they want to abort is currently a point of gross contention between people around the world and is causing much discussion in the world of ethics. Is this it okay for a woman to destroy a little baby simply because it is undesired, burdensome or possibly malformed? Can science or medicine be used to kill unwanted people?
As Shelley foresees, from the time of the scientific revolution, a Frankenstein-like mentality has increasingly spread around the world inspiring people to objectify and dehumanize others due to their convenience, their appearance, or their social function. Resultantly, such people have begun unjustly denying innocent people their right to life and liberty, deeming it their right to decide the life or death of others. Today it is estimated that approximately 46 million abortions occur every year around the world for social reasons such as its being merely unwanted (Abortion Facts). Furthermore, some individuals reason other humans are better off not existing because of physical handicaps, such as Down’s Syndrome. Because handicapped individuals look and act differently people assume that “handicapped persons cannot live meaningful and even happy lives” (Beckwith) and thus should be aborted. However, as long as there is someone to love them they can in fact live very happy and fulfilling lives. As former U.S. Surgeon General C. Everett Koop notes, “Some of the most unhappy children whom I have known have all of their physical and mental faculties, and on the other hand some of the happiest youngsters have borne burdens which I myself would find very difficult to bear” (Beckworth). Yet, because of this Frankenstein-like mindset, people ignore these facts and do as Victor did and dehumanize, neglect, abandon or abort these innocent children simply because they are different or unwanted.
One ethical issue that spawned from the abortion debate is how to develop the perfect child; how to genetically engineer people without physical defects, psychological problems or academic difficulties; how to rid the world of people who are defective and to produce the perfect eugenic race. The issue has now reached the point where scientists in the U.K. are attempting to artificially create the perfect “disease free” human baby by using DNA from three parents- one male and two female donors (Hutchison). Adding to this, technological advances now allow couples to create their very own “designer children” (Sandel). People can determine whether their child’s sex, hair and eye color, height, intelligence, etc. But the question begs, should they? Is it right for scientists to create a designer child for a couple? These are questions that cannot be ignored and must be thought of in light of Frankenstein, since both relate to the same issue; this being, what happens when science plays with human lives? Is it right to trust scientists to this task or are there limitations that must be upheld?
Harvard professor, Michael Sandel, discusses the threats such risky scientific liberties can have on society. He warns how similar ideas of the creating the perfect people proliferated through figures such as Adolf Hitler and Margaret Sanger (founder of Planned Parenthood). He states that while they endorsed a more aggressive form of eugenics, or the creation of the perfect human race, that no form of eugenics should be accepted in society. He argues that having high ideals and expectations for children is not realistic and can encourage people to be less able to love them unconditionally. However, this occurs when science, by playing God, encourages such contingencies between parents and children. For what happens when the child does not meet the parents’ expectations? Will they no longer provide the child with self-sacrificing love, as Frankenstein demonstrates? Sandel explains, “[t]he problem of genetic engineering lies in the hubris of the designing parents. Even if this disposition doesn’t make parents tyrants to their children, still it disfigures the relation between parent and child and it deprives the parent of the humility, the human sympathies, and the openness to the unbidden.” Essentially, by science having the ability to make children “to order,” parents potentially lose the openness to accept whatever child comes to them. Additionally, this mindset continues to promote the dehumanization of people and the fostering of the flagrant abortive mentality so widespread. Sandel also adds
What makes us most uneasy about the use of genetic engineering to enhance or to create something, has to do with the fact that the drive to create children of a certain character reflects an aspiration to freedom, mastery, and control, and to exercise our human will and our ability to remake human nature to serve our purposes and satisfy our desires.
Give people some unethical freedom, and they will want more to gratify their selfish interests. Such is the nature of humankind. Unfortunately, despite the ethical dangers associated with this subject, the interest gradually increases among couples and scientists throughout the world. The caveat of Shelley and other professionals is silenced by the glamour of scientific exploration and creative irresponsibility. The societal repercussions these ethically precarious actions will engender are still to be seen, but one hopes that the fate of Frankenstein can be prevented in our world by those who see the threats and fight against their proliferation.
After delving more deeply into the two issues of parental and scientific responsibility and comparing them with the life of Shelley, Frankenstein and modern society, one can better perceive that indeed, there is a significant correlation between these three latter subjects with the two former ethical issues. The question of what Shelley wants to express to her reader can, therefore, be said to express the dangers that threaten society when ethical responsibilities are not upheld, and how Frankenstein’s character speaks to this danger. In truth, people must be accountable for the actions they make and must recognize that individuals cannot act in ways that do not respect the dignity of the human person which all innately deserve. As Frankenstein rightly cautions, “Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example” (Shelley 31). Learn from Frankenstein not to do that which humanity should not, for indeed the world and society are better for it, as Shelley would rightly agree.
(References available upon request)

Concerning Icons

In modern society, it is challenging for people to comprehend and/or appreciate that sense of sacred Tradition which was preserved and defended by Christians for hundreds of years which they passed down from one generation to the next. However, though it might surprise many in the western world, there still exist those Christians who have not lost this love and respect for sacred Tradition and the importance it has in the life of a Christian. One such group of people call themselves Orthodox Christians and they have been carefully safeguarding and practicing many sacred Traditions which today have nearly forgotten. One such Tradition is that of venerating sacred icons, which entails kissing or praying before holy images. Objectively, it would appear that this simple act of veneration could easily be overlooked as just sentimentality, artistic obsession, or even idolatry. However, upon greater reflection, one will find that not only is the role of the icon essential to the practice of the Orthodox Christian faith, but that it also has a very important theology surrounding it, thus making the icon a far more significant component of the faith than one might assume. The intention of this essay will therefore be to explain icons origins and their function in Orthodox practice to prove that icons are truly elemental to Christianity and are more than mere pieces of ancient artwork.
Before explaining the origin of the icon, however, one must first define what exactly an icon is. For centuries lovely images of Jesus, the Theotokos (or Blessed Virgin Mary), and holy saints and angels were painted or created to decorate the interior of churches throughout the Christian world. These images, whether they were tiles, frescos, mosaics or wall sculptures are all considered icons. By definition, the Greek word είκώυ, or icon, means “likeness,” “image,” or “representation” (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). The Greek word for iconography combines είκώυ with the word γράφειυ, or writing, thus denoting that those who made icons were image writers (New Catholic Encyclopedia). This was such since these artists not only created images, but also told stories through their paintings, mosaics, sculpture, etc. Icons were often used in both the eastern and western churches and served as a tool to lead the faithful towards better understanding the faith through visual art and raise their minds towards the greatest reality; this being God. Yet, to state this alone would be a great oversimplification. Therefore, the first fundamental issue to delve into is the origin of these fascinating pieces of holy artwork.

So where did icons come from? Did people simply create them for nostalgic purposes or was there a more significant purpose for them? Actually, the tradition of icons is rooted in some of the earliest days of Christianity. The proof of the use of icons can be found in archeological findings in places such as Rome and Alexandria that date back to as early as the second century (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). The most notable are those discovered in the catacombs. The catacombs were underground tombs where the Christians performed sacred rites of worship during persecution, most commonly the Eucharistic sacrifice. On the walls of these vast crypts deep within the earth, there were images that reflected Christian beliefs. Some of these images included doves (symbolic for the peace of Christ), the Good Shepherd, the chi ro (the first two letters of the Greek word "Christòs" meaning Christ), the XTHYS ( ichtùs) or fish, the Alpha and Omega (the two Greek letters representing God eternity), and others (Christian Catacombs of Rome, 1997). From these symbols, the Christians saw visual signs that supported their faith and illustrated some of the basic tenets of Christianity. This custom eventually spread throughout Europe after the legalization of Christianity by Emperor Constantine in 313 (Cavarnos, 1992, p.13). However, the catacombs are not the first place the Orthodox look to when considering the icon’s origin; indeed, the Orthodox look as far back as 1st century Jerusalem. The name of the artist was Jesus and the image created was His own. The icon referred to here is formally known as “the Holy Face” in the west, or “the icon not made by human hands” in the east (Ouspensky, 1992, p.51). Tradition states that a King Abgar in Edessa requested Christ to visit him to heal him of his leprosy. However, while Christ chose not to visit him, He did send him a piece of cloth which He wiped His face upon that left His sacred impression. Upon Abgar receiving the Christ’s linen cloth the king was immediately healed and veneration for this icon has existed ever since. But, this act of Christ creating an icon of Himself, or more accurately, of the invisible God making an Incarnation of Himself, was for many Orthodox, a major justification for the use of icons and the reason for its emphasis in the Orthodox faith. But the question is why?

Upon the Incarnation of the Word made flesh, the faithful followers of the true God could now be confirmed in their desire to make representations of Him. Formerly, the Old Testament covenant forbade any such manifestation of God or the saints. The book of Deuteronomy illustrates this when it cites God saying:

Beware lest you act corruptly by making a graven image for yourselves, in the form of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any beast that is on the earth…And beware lest you lift up your eyes to heaven, and when you see the sun and the moon and the stars, all the host of heaven, you be drawn away and worship them and serve them…(4:16-19).

This passage makes it apparent that to create icons would be idolatrous and offensive to God and thus sinful. However, to show how this command no longer applied to Christians upon Christ’s coming, Saint John of Damascus in his famous work Concerning Holy Icons, explains Christians must now have a change of perspective on this subject. He contends:

[This passage] is clearly a prohibition of representing the invisible God. But when you see Him, who has no body become man for you, then you will make representations of His human aspect. When the Invisible, having clothed Himself in the flesh, becomes visible, then represent the likeness of Him who has appeared.... When He who, having been the consubstantial Image of the Father, emptied Himself by taking the form of a servant (Phil. 2: 6-7), thus becoming bound in quantity and quality, having taken on the carnal image, then paint and make visible to everyone Him who desired to become visible. Paint His birth from the Virgin, His Baptism in the Jordan, His Transfiguration on Mt. Tabor.... Paint everything with words and colors, in books and on boards (Ouspensky, 1992, p.44).

Furthermore, commenting on the reason for the Old Testament covenant not allowing representations of God, but why now it was acceptable, Russian icon commentator, Leonid Ouspensky, relates that

[the Israelites had] ...a mission consisting in preparing and prefiguring that which was to be revealed in the New Testament. This is why there could be only symbolic prefigurations, revelations of the future. 'The law was not an image,' says St. John of Damascus, 'but it was like a wall which hid the image. The Apostle Paul also says: "The law was but a shadow [skian gar echon o nomos] of the good things to come instead of the true form of these realities" (Hebrews 10:1).' In other words, it is the New Testament which is the true image of reality.... That which David and Solomon saw and heard was only prophetic prefigurations of that which was realized in the New Testament (Copple).

Hence, God was not stating not to ever have icons, but to wait until the time of the Incarnation to allow for their reproduction. In short, the icon was to be part of the fulfillment of the old law and therefore, because it was fulfilled, should allow the new law to take precedence and be promoted and observed by all. God wanted this change and thus icons were introduced into the Christian world. But there is still more to be said regarding the significance of these icons.

A second point which Saint John Damascus well perceives is the impact in icon has on the individual. Speaking not from his own opinion, but in the name of holy Tradition, Saint John clarifies one of the essential purposes for the use of icons. He writes:

We who do not see Him [Christ] directly nor hear His words nevertheless listen to these words which are written in books [Bible] and thus sanctify our hearing and, thereby, our soul. We consider ourselves fortunate and we venerate the books through which we hear these sacred works and are sanctified. Similarly, through His image we contemplate the physical appearance of Christ, His miracles, and His passion. This contemplation sanctifies our sight and, thereby, our soul. We consider ourselves fortunate and we venerate this image by lifting ourselves, as far as possible, beyond the physical appearance to the contemplation of divine glory (Ouspensky, 1992, p.48).

Here Saint John Damascus stresses the importance that icons have in the life of an Orthodox believer. Icons are not just pictures the faithful look upon, no, they are also a means of worshipping God Himself. As the Holy Father St. Basil explains, “the honour of the icon passes to the prototype” (Dragas, p.60). The icon is like the vehicle that takes one to their destination. This act of veneration towards the icon can thus lead the individual soul closer to God as they reflect upon whom it is they are looking. For just as people hear the word of God read to them and are sanctified, so too when seeing the holy icons, people are being led towards holy contemplation (Ouspensky, 1992, p.48). As Orthodox writer, Paul Evdokimov explains in his book The Art of the Icon, “these images are drawn statements” (173). He declares that the icon is more than art; it is also the Word offering Himself “for contemplation in the ‘visual theology’ of the icon” (174). This is elemental in the life of an Orthodox Christian since the purpose of life is to come to full union through deification and icons are a medium through which person can enter into this process. Through this “visual theology” that Evdokimov describes, the faithful are able to be drawn to Christ since God can reach a soul not only through hearing the Word, but also through seeing Him in iconic representations.

As we have already explained, the origins of the icon are not insignificant and have great importance for the Orthodox Christian. While the Orthodox recognize that the icon is not only aesthetical, they do not deny the fact that icons are pieces of art. The Orthodox, acknowledging the icon’s multi-functions, wants to ensure that their churches are adorned with the most beautiful images and decorations possible to show their love for God and His Bride, the Church. The distinction here is that they do not love beauty for beauty’s sake, but in truth, for God’s sake. To illustrate this love for the ‘house of God’, there is a hymn chanted on the vigil of the Triumph of Orthodoxy from the Triodion which expresses this reality. The context of this chant involves the celebration of the overthrow of iconoclasm and it reads:

The Church of Christ is now embellished like a bride, having been adorned with icons of holy form; and it calls all together spiritually; let us come and celebrate together joyfully with concord and faith, magnifying the Lord (Cavarnos, 1992, p.30).

To decorate the Church is therefore a sign of one’s love for God. Nevertheless, an Orthodox Christian will never segregate the icon’s beauty from its fundamental purpose; icons must always be used to lead the faithful towards holiness, towards the end of its function, and not simply towards artistic appreciation. Working together, the objective beauty along with the subjective meaning of the icon is meant guide a person into a potentially deeper and higher relationship with God and ultimately divine union with Him.

Therefore, in tracing the icon’s origins and the place it has in the life of an Orthodox, it becomes apparent that the icon is more than ancient art. With the theology and the beauty buried deep within the icon, it is clear that the icon is a truly necessary part of the Orthodox Christian’s belief. From it an individual can come to perceive the truths that the Christian faith contains and open for them a means of both knowing and loving the Incarnate God in a more profound way. Veritably, the icon is one of the most unappreciated traditions which exists in the present world and which will hopefully again take the place of prominence it deserves among Christians of all denominations.