The Evil Within and the Evil Without in 2010
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Transcript of The Evil Within and the Evil Without in 2010
Abdoulkhalak 1
“Young Goodman Brown”: The Evil Within and the Evil Without
Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest, and only dreamed a
wild dream of a witch-meeting?
Be it so if you will. But, alas! It was a dream of evil omen for young
Goodman Brown. (Hawthorne 16)
The question above reveals the extent to which an answer could determine the
full meaning of a story like “Young Goodman Brown.” However, Hawthorne’s tale, as
Mark Van Doren has put it, “is so good a story that readers of it must rarely be
tempted to decide what it means” (79). Indeed, the underlying meaning of the narrative
which is unanimously considered to be thought-provoking is “no more than” what the
reader himself “wishes to think it has” (qtd. in Van Doren 76). Therefore, the tale
should always be subject to constant critical reading and scrutiny.
This paper is an attempt to reconsider the meaning of “Young Goodman Brown”
in the light of two landmark critiques, which are, in every sense, to be viewed through
the optics of textual analysis in order to ponder the question whether the evil is within
the self or outside of it.
The intent is to compare and contrast David Levin’s article “Shadows of Doubt:
Spectre Evidence in Hawthorne’s ‘Young Goodman Brown’” and Paul J. Hurley’s
article “Young Goodman Brown’s ‘Heart of Darkness’” for the purpose of putting
both articles under focus so as to see how reasonable their interpretations of “Young
Goodman Brown” sound. The study, as a matter of fact, will be of great help to us in
answering the following questions: What do Levin and Hurley try to tell us apropos
“Young Goodman Brown”? How do they approach it? To what extent are their
Abdoulkhalak 2
arguments persuasively expressed? These questions will, in stages, ease our way
through the examination of Hawthorne’s meaning that envelops the short story.
I am going to focus upon the major ideas the two critics would like to
communicate in their articles. On one hand, Hawthorne’s use of historical elements as
external “clues to the violence and speed of Brown’s rebellious outburst” will be
scrutinised methodically to answer the above-mentioned queries (Colacurcio 50). On
the other hand, I will seek the motif behind Hurley’s belief that the pervasiveness of
evil is within Goodman Brown, and the question of whether to regard the latter’s
journey the same as Marlow’s in Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” or not. All
things considered, I shall allow myself some degree of latitude to assess the two
articles.
The paper will be arranged as follows. I intend to begin with an introduction on
the chief questions raised in this paper. Afterwards, I will dedicate myself to
comparing and contrasting the selected articles. This would enable us to focus upon
the conspicuous points brought into play in each article. The section which comes after
shall consider and question the validity and reliability of each article. Finally, I shall
perhaps be in a position to provide a conclusion of mine.
“Young Goodman Brown,” being the greatest of all Hawthorne’s tales, has been
studied extensively. It has received a wealth of responses “that pursue every possible
interpretive nuance” (qtd. in Tritt 113). Walter J. Paulits, for instance, believed that
“Young Goodman Brown” is an allegorical presentation of ambivalence rather than of
ambiguity (577-84). Richard Predmore, who read the story in the light of Jungian
theory, represented Goodman Brown’s Journey into the forest as a mythological night
Abdoulkhalak 3
journey into the unconscious, a journey in which Brown finds himself surrounded by
three archetypes: the terrible mother, the anima, and the shadow (250-57). Unlike
several Freudian critics, Michael Tritt made use of the concept of Freudian projection
to explicate Hawthorne’s tale, in the sense that its protagonist projects his own
apprehensions onto others (113-17). James C. Keil explored the construction of the
middle class world in the nineteenth century through “Young Goodman Brown” as it
accounts for the anxieties induced by the new division of the world into public and
private spheres based on sexuality and gender relations (33-55). Monica Elbert
interpreted Hawthorne’s story on the basis of Faith’s sexuality that leads her Puritan
husband to the woods, where he would join those whose carnal indiscretions have led
them to their end (23-44). John Neary went further to consider Goodman Brown’s
forest experience as a journey of “depth spirituality” rather than of “Freudian depth
psychology” (244-70). In view of this, one can conclude that “Young Goodman
Brown” criticism has covered a wide range of interpretations.
In addition to the critics mentioned above, Levin and Hurley, whose pre-eminent
articles were published in the late sixties of the twentieth century, have in turn their
own readings of the tale somehow different from each other. This, nevertheless, does
not mean that they do not have a common point, that is, Goodman Brown’s gradual
crisis of faith. Hurley writes:
[Brown’s] “devil” knows […] that belief in the morality of society must be
destroyed, rationalized away before total commitment to evil is possible
[…]. The Devil then begins a sly temptation of Goodman Brown, but it is a
puzzling temptation because the only rewards Goodman Brown is offered
Abdoulkhalak 4
are the aspersions cast on his family, his neighbours, and his church. (413-
14)
Hurley suggests that Goodman Brown’s consciousness of and admission to the
diabolical forest mission, in Levin’s words, “[invite] the Devil [to determine] the
organisation of his argument” which consists of progressively “traducing” (348) “the
three institutions to which man (i.e. Brown) is obligated: the family, society, and the
church” (Hurley 414). In doing so, for Levin, as well as for Hurley, the Puritan youth
ends up, in Joan Elizabeth Easterly’s words, “wilfully” destroying “his commitment to
his wife, the moral code of his society, and the teachings of his religion” (339).
The first point that distinguishes Levin from Hurley is the approach each relied
upon in their criticism of “Young Goodman Brown.” Levin granted “Young Goodman
Brown” a literal, historical plausibility because it permitted him, to a great degree, to
account for the tale’s meaning and, hence, to have a well-grounded understanding of
its moral implications. He looks at the story in terms of evidence that Brown is
overwhelmed by spectral images produced by the Devil himself. Brown’s total self-
deception, Levin explains, is attributed to the very power the Devil enjoys in
manipulating spectral apparitions of his “sworn disciples” (Colacurcio 56). In this
respect, Levin reports Mather’s declaration that:
The Father of Lies is never to be believed: He will utter twenty great truths
to make way for one lie: He will accuse twenty Witches, if he can thereby
bring one honest Person into trouble: He mixeth Truths with Lies, that so
those truths giving credit unto lies, Men may believe both, and so be
deceived. (344)
Abdoulkhalak 5
Because of the complexity and ambiguity that reverberate throughout the tale, it
seems to be very hard, if not unattainable, for the reader “to explain the archness of
Hawthorne’s allusions and the idle reverie of [one of his haunting] sketches” (Kazin
18-19). However, by clinging to the fact that “Young Goodman Brown” has a
historical dimension, Levin believes that constant literal hints to Brown’s callow and
fallen nature can be brought out, thereby unravelling the genuine meaning that lies
beneath the tale’s surface.
By contrast, Hurley’s article, “Young Goodman Brown’s ‘Heart of Darkness,’” is
an attempt to approach the short story from a contemporary psychological angle. Not
unlike Hawthorne’s tale, Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness,” replete with “mystery,
desolation, and sorrow,” is, psychoanalytically speaking, a pure manifestation of
Marlow’s unconscious mind (Conrad 79). It intrinsically “represents Marlow’s journey
as ‘a journey into the self,’ an ‘introspective plunge,’ ‘a night journey into the
unconscious’” (qtd. in Levenson 153). By the same token, Hurley maintains that
Goodman Brown’s journey is a sort of subconscious retreat into the dark self. Thus,
the tale should be viewed as a disclosure of drastic self-perversion:
My point here is that “Young Goodman Brown” is a subtle work of fiction
concerned with revealing a distorted mind. I believe the pervasive sense of
evil in the story is not separate from and outside its protagonist; it is in and
of him. (411)
“Young Goodman Brown’s ‘Heart of Darkness’” came as a psychological
response to a work of art which lets it be known that, following Hawthorne’s 1836
note-book, “there is evil in every human heart” (qtd. in Doren 74).
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In his critique, “Shadows of Doubt: Spectre Evidence in Hawthorne’s ‘Young
Goodman Brown,’” Levin posits that “Young Goodman Brown” portrays a spectral
“pilgrimage” into evil. During this pilgrimage, the protagonist “witnesses a spectral
performance directed by a very competent and very real devil” (Budick 220). The
latter, traditionally notorious for his wiles and powers, discourages his victim, Brown,
from making the right decisions as regards what seems firm and indisputable evidence
based on a historical argument (219). Accordingly, I would like to cite a key passage
that many critics have conceived of as a clue either to “Brown’s psychological
weakness” or to “his theological innocence” so that to justify Brown’s shadowy
journey into sinfulness (221):
“Too far! too far!” exclaimed the Goodman, unconsciously resuming his
walk. “My father never went into the woods on such errand, nor his father
before him. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians since
the days of the martyrs; and shall I be the first of the name of Brown that
ever took this path and kept.”
“Such company, thou wouldst say,” observed the elder person,
interpreting his pause. “Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as well
acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and
that’s no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he was
I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set
fire to an Indian village, in King Philip’s war. They were my good friends,
both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along with you for their sake.”
Abdoulkhalak 7
“If it be as thou sayest,” replied Goodman Brown, “I marvel they never
spoke of these matters; or verily, I marvel not, seeing that the least rumor of
the sort would have driven them from New England. We are a people of
prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness.”
(Hawthorne 6-7)
In this passage, the “traveller with the twisted staff” (7), Levin puts forward, is
portrayed as reasoning with Brown as they walk into “the heart of the dark wilderness”
(11). The former coaxingly “tries to convince [the latter] that the best men are wholly
evil” (Levin 348). To put it another way, in order to induce hopelessness, the Devil
here makes Brown awake to the true sins of his own forefathers, on the basis of which
he builds his evidence. Following E. Miller Budick, the fact that young Goodman
Brown innocently yields to what has been said about his father and grandfather implies
that he does not judge “as a [purely] seventeenth-century Puritan,” but rather “from the
standpoint of a detached, objective, ahistorical moralist” (221). Levin discloses the
foolishness of the Puritan youth, in the sense that the latter, for all his youth and
inexperience, takes the Father of Lies’ words “too” seriously “as his neighbours did in
1692,” and ingenuously speaks his mind that “Faith is the foundation of his reluctance
to become a witch” (348).
In 1966, Levin’s 1962 article was attacked by Hurley who was not at all satisfied
with Levin’s claim that the issues dealing with human nature are “beyond the limits of
fiction” (Levin 351). He—Hurley—points out that the horrible experience, which
Goodman Brown has undergone in the company of his “own personal devil” (413) to
attend the “unholy communion” (Walsh’s phrase 333), depicts the evil facet of
Abdoulkhalak 8
Brown’s own psyche. Unlike Salem Village, the forest, like the one in “Heart of
Darkness,” is associated with the dark depths of the unconscious (Guerin et al.142). As
for the Devil, he is, in Colacurcio’s terms, “nothing more than the emergence of
Brown’s most unpuritanical unconscious” (50). Within this framework, Brown’s
journey is basically a psychological journey into, as well as a tentative exploration of,
the inner self. In this case, “any belief in” the Puritan youth’s simple and virtuous
character, as Hurley argues, is destroyed—upon his departure from his wife, Faith—by
his awareness of “the sinfulness of his trip” (412). Goodman Brown says:
What a wretch am I to leave her on such an errand! She talks of dreams, too.
Methought as she spoke there was trouble in her face, as if a dream has
warned her of what work is to be done to-night. But no, no; ’t would kill her
to think it. Well, she’s a blessed angel on earth; after this one night I’ll cling
to her skirts and follow her to heaven. (Hawthorne 5)
According to Hurley, the passage is ironical, and its irony lies in the suggestion that
Brown’s own salvation is in the power of Faith (i.e. faith) rather than in his own. This
conviction emanates from “the strength of Brown’s identification of his wife as a
morally superior ‘blessed angel’” (Keil 44).
As I mentioned earlier, Hurley agrees with Levin on the fact that the end of the
gloomy journey is marked by Goodman Brown’s loss of faith after he has been
subjected to gradual doubt of and disillusionment with his own society to which “he is
morally responsible” (417), namely his ancestors who “persecuted Quakers and
murdered Indians in mass,” his highly-respected “elders who still live,” and finally his
lovely spouse, all of whom “the shadow of sin falls upon” (Van Doren 77). For both
Abdoulkhalak 9
Levin and Hurley, that conclusion—Brown’s loss of faith—is obviously based on the
protagonist’s avowal: “My Faith is gone!” (Hawthorne 11). This avowal is justified at
the end of the story, since we are told that Goodman Brown “lives out his life
thereafter a hollow shell of a man” (Pearce 232).
Levin, nonetheless, attributes Brown’s forest “visions” to the power of “the
seventeenth-century Devil” who, according to a historical fact, “could produce
spectres, with or without the consent of the people they resembled” (350). In “Young
Goodman Brown,” the Devil plays on Brown’s “lack of proper historical
consciousness” on the basis of which he makes use of spectre evidence, thus begetting
Brown’s “failure in moral decision-making” (Budick 219). In other words,
What prevents the evaporation of reality into dream, what ensures the
distance between the perceiving self in the world, and hence what restrains
the imagination from engulfing a reality that is largely at the mercy of the
individual’s perceptual authority, is historical consciousness. Historical
consciousness respects the integrity of a world outside the self […]. (218)
In the very light of the above citation, what Levin seeks to convey in his article is
that, in Buddick’s terms, Hawthorne’s tale is “an attempt to generalise the notion of
spectrality to cover the question of history” (qtd. in Colacurcio 65). Levin’s striking
point is that the process of spectral evidence, be it airy or ghostlike, stems from the
Devil’s hearsay about the misdemeanours of Brown’s Puritan forefathers. The Father
of Lies, ipso facto, dedicates himself through the rest of the journey to conjuring up
spectres of the disrespectful Goody Cloyse, of the lascivious minister’s and Deacon
Gookin’s “disembodied voices” (Levin 349), of the fateful pink ribbon, of the Arch-
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fiend, and eventually of the guilty Faith, all constituting “a storm that passes through
and through [Brown], leaving no portion of his soul unblasted” (Van Doren 76). In the
same way, James L. Williamson summarises Brown’s spectral journey:
Just so Goodman Brown’s innocent venture into the devil’s woods, and
simple concessions to the devil’s arguments will end in his permanent loss
of peace and happiness. And just so will Brown come to find himself
trapped in a world of uncertainties and spectral appearances. (156)
As a matter of fact, Levin observes that young Goodman Brown—“a prospective
convert”—is willingly convinced of all the evidence presented to him by the Devil
(350). Thus, Levin’s reading of “Young Goodman Brown” as a story “about Brown’s
doubt, his discovery of universal evil” leads him to conclude that it—the tale—is to be
a crystal-clear portrayal of “a crisis of faith and agony of doubt” (qtd. in Levin 351):
We must notice that Brown finally does exorcise the spectral meeting, but
that he can never forget his view of the spectres or the abandon in which he
himself became the chief horror in the dark wilderness. He lives the rest of
his life in doubt, and the literal doubt depends on his uncertainty about
whether his wife and others are really evil. […]. It is the spectral quality of
the experience both—its uncertainty and its unforgettable impression—that
makes the doubt permanent. (351)
Hurley, on the other hand, ascribes Brown’s “visions” of the forest incidents to
“his suspicion and distrust, not [to] the Devil’s wiles” (411). Therefore, he assures that
Goodman Brown’s night adventure can be described as “an ego-induced fantasy, the
self-justification of a diseased mind” (419). In view of this, the dark figure, described
Abdoulkhalak 11
as “bearing a considerable resemblance” to the protagonist himself (Hawthorne 6), is
“Brown’s alter ego” (Guerin et at. 142). Accordingly, the Puritan lad “cannot ‘stand
firm against the devil!’ (Hawthorne 10) because Satan is within” (Apseloff 103):
And, maddened with despair, so that he laughed loud and long, did
Goodman Brow grasp his staff and set forth again […]. The road grew
wilder and drearier and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, leaving
him in the heart of the dark wilderness, still rushing onward with the instinct
that guides mortal man to evil. […]. But he was himself the chief horror of
the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors. (Hawthorne 11)
This dark passage, as Hurley contends, is very expressive of “Brown’s ‘neurotic
predisposition’ (Levy’s phrase 375) [and] surrender to evil” (417). Psychologically
conceived, “the origins of Brown’s behaviour,” Michael Tritt writes, “lie buried
beneath his consciousness. As a result, Brown is trapped, an unwary prisoner of forces
acting from within” (117). To crown it all, completely overpowered by evil—after
having seen Faith taking part in the Devil’s communion, the final straw that breaks his
moral resistance—young Goodman Brown cannot be but entirely certain of the sour
truth that the world belongs to the Prince of Darkness. Hurley reads the story as a
complete corruption of the young protagonist’s mind and heart. He goes on to claim
that since the journey “[was] willed”, Goodman Brown, ignorant of his “own kinship
with evil,” is willing as well “not to see sinfulness but only in others” (419).
To all intents and purposes, Levin puts as much emphasis upon the function and
the perception of evil powers in Puritan society in nurturing Brown’s vision. On this
Abdoulkhalak 12
basis, the young Puritan’s unswerving conviction in the authenticity of his perceptions
evinces his own justification and capacity for sin:
Hawthorne does not tell us that none of the people whom Brown comes to
suspect is indeed a diabolical agent, but he makes it clear that Brown has no
justification for condemning any of them—and no justification for
suspecting them, except for the shadowy vista that this experience has
opened into his own capacity for evil. (351)
What Levin is trying to tell us is that Brown has no evidence that the people he doubts
are “the fiend-worshippers” (Hawthorne 14). Apart from this, Hawthorne sarcastically
informs us from the outset of the tale that Brown is already “justified in making more
haste on his present evil purpose” (5). From the seventeenth-century Puritan vantage
point, what Brown is not aware of is that what he has witnessed “may only exhibit the
inevitable imperfection of all fallen humankind, the inescapable interference of the
devil” (Budick 221).
Hurley, unlike Levin, seems not to look at “Young Goodman Brown” as a
historical fiction in that he strongly maintains that the tale is not only a “strange dream
of the subconscious” (413), but also “a kind of a debate” with the inner self (414). In
short, it is a journey not into the forest in its literal sense, but rather into the human
heart. For Goodman Brown, as Hurley is perhaps trying to say, the human heart is a
“universe to be explored” (Van Doren 85). Hawthorne describes it in The American
Notebooks:
The human heart to be allegorised as a cavern; at the entrance there is
sunshine, and flowers growing about it. You step within, but a short
Abdoulkhalak 13
distance, and begin to find yourself surrounded with a terrible gloom and
monsters of divers kinds; it seems like Hell itself. You are bewildered, and
wander long without hope. At last light strikes you. You press towards it
yon, and find yourself in a region that seems, in some sort, to reproduce the
flowers and sunny beauty of the entrance but all perfect. These are the
depths of the heart […]; the gloom and the terror may lay deep; but deeper
still is this eternal beauty. (qtd. in Van Doren 85)
Ironically, Hurley’s intention is to show us, as readers, that Brown’s “heart [smites]
him” because his secret “evil purpose” leads him only to the dark depths of his heart
and ultimately to gloomy death (Hawthorne 5).
According to Hurley, the Puritan youth journeys into his heart and finds himself
enveloped in mist of “shadow, dark, and gloom” (412); however, he never discerns
“the light” in the true “depths of the heart” (qtd. in Doren 85). He never realizes that
“the gloom and the terror may lie deep; but deeper still is the eternal beauty” (85). As
Hurley’s article’s title suggests, young Goodman Brown sees in the world only the
darkness of his own heart within which “the evil overflows” (411). This reading, as
one critic argues, unveils two noteworthy dimensions. First, Brown projects his own
sinfulness upon others. Second, Brown believes he is guilt-free (Tritt 116). Likewise,
“Young Goodman Brown” explores Hawthorne’s belief—that evil lurks in every
human’s heart—through its climactic picture of the Arch-fiend’s sacramental sermon
on “‘depending upon one another’s hearts’ (Hawthorne 15) so that to avoid
scrutinising their own” (Leverenz 117). This doubtless leads us to the resolution that
evil is also within Hawthorne himself. “Writers,” Hawthorne noted, “are always poor
Abdoulkhalak 14
devils, and therefore Satan may take them” (qtd. in Williamson 155). Hence, in
Hawthorne’s tale, the devil appears to be the spokesperson for Hawthorne’s own dark
and ambiguous ideas (156).
Levin, above and beyond all, seems not to be troubled by the question of whether
Goodman Brown’s forest ordeal is a dream or “a reality which is unquestionably
spectral” (352). Hawthorne himself leaves it a matter of question whether or not young
Goodman Brown “[has] fallen asleep, and only dreamed a wild dream” (Hawthorne
16). As for the Puritan protagonist, “being overwhelmed by the discovery of the power
of evil,” he cannot tell the difference between the real and the imagined (Levy 386). In
either case, Levin adds, “the meaning remains the same” (352), that is, faith has been
shattered and replaced by absolute doubt and desperation. The indecision is due to the
fact that, as Leo B. Levy put it,
Hawthorne recognizes that our waking life and the life of dreams are bound
up together—that life is like a dream in its revelation of terrifying truths. His
point is that the truth conveyed in the dream is also a truth of waking
experience. (376)
In essence, the reader cannot but be sympathetic with the Puritan lad in his
dilemma with regard to spectral evidence because the historical reality has been
devotedly and reasonably reproduced by “some evil force outside the self” (Budick
224). However, as Budick argues,
[P]resent and historical reality both may appear to be spectres. But spectres
reflect a solid and inaccessible selfhood that individuals can never penetrate
and that they must, consequently, always respect. Goodman Brown errs
Abdoulkhalak 15
because, like other witch hunters, he fails to respect the integrity of other
human beings; he cannot grant them the same perceptual freedom he claims
for himself. (225)
This passage clearly brings to light Brown’s egocentricity through his dismissal
of his ancestors and his “fellow Salemites,” which makes him conceive of the world as
confirmation of his self-righteousness (225). As he returns home, he places himself
“not outside the community but above it” (Pearce 237), not knowing that, as
Colacurcio has suggested, spectre evidence stands for the guilty desire he suppresses
in his inner self (58). Therefore, “human history,” Kazin pleads, “proceeds from
within, where every individual is alone with the mystery of sin” (17). This is
something I perfectly stand up for.
As a matter of fact, “Young Goodman Brown,” like many of his other tales, is
Hawthorne’s way of going down the depths of his mind where he is obligated to face
and live with evil (Van Doren 95). “From within,” Leverenz writes, “[Hawthorne]
could critique his culture, transgress himself, and affirm the play of meanings so basic
to any life of the mind” (124). In other terms, what we should be sure of is that the tale
represents some phase of New England history as well as Hawthorne’s true interest,
notably the deeper moving parts of human nature. Roy Harvey Pearce, for instance,
argues that Hawthorne’s tale is merely symbolic—“symbolism whose authority lies in
its historicity” (235). Ageless and universally self-perpetuating, Hawthorne’s real
motivations, to cut a long story short, are “not historical but human” (Colacurcio 39).
This conclusion is not to be read “as a rejection of history but as a defence against
egotism” (60).
Abdoulkhalak 16
Regardless of Levin’s and Hurley’s readings of “Young Goodman Brown,” I do
not regret having read and studied such a thematic tale, which has been well
conceived. On the whole, “Young Goodman Brown” happens to be a dramatically
mysterious work of art which, theologically speaking, pictures evil as a universal
hallmark of human nature and allows us, as modern readers, to have a bird’s eye view
of the New England past through the eyes of a proficient short-story writer. Within this
frame, I believe that historical and psychological criticism supplement one another,
and that each has its own validity and can, therefore, complement our judgement of
Hawthorne’s masterpiece. In any case, the short story is brilliant enough to prompt the
reader to pass over whatsoever narrative imperfections there might be.
Abdoulkhalak 17
Works Cited
Apseloff, Stanford and Apseloff, Marilyn. “‘Young Goodman Brown’: The
Goodman.” American Notes and Queries 20. 7/8 (Spring 1982): 103-104.
Budick. E. Miller. “The World of Spectre: Hawthorne’s Historical Art.” Modern
Language Association 101. 2 (Mar. 1986): 218-232.
Colacurcio, Michael J. “‘Certain Circumstances’: Hawthorne and the Interest of
History.” New Essays on Hawthorne’s Major Tales. Ed. with
Introduction. By Millicent Bell. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1993. 37-66.
Connolly, Thomas E. “Hawthorne’s ‘Young Goodman Brown’: an Attack on
Puritanic Calvinism.” American Literature 28. 3 (Nov. 1956): 370-375.
Conrad, Joseph. “Heart of Darkness.”
<http: //www.feedbooks.com/book/1675>.
Easterley, Elizabeth J. “Lachrymal imagery in Hawthorne’s ‘Young Goodman
Brown.’” Studies in Short Fiction 28. 3 (Summer 1991): 339-343.
Elbert, Monica. “The Surveillance of Woman’s Body in Hawthorne’s Short
Stories.” Women’s Studies 33. 1 (Winter 2004): 23.46.
Guerin, Wilfred L., et al. A Handbook of Critical Approaches to Literature. 4th.
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Kazin. New York: Fawcett Premier, 1966.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. “Young Goodman Brown.”
<http: //www.feedbooks.com/book/1675>.
Abdoulkhalak 18
Hurley, Paul J. “Young Goodman Brown’s ‘Heart of Darkness.’” American
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Keil. James C. “Hawthorne’s ‘Young Goodman Brown’: early Nineteenth-
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Goodman Brown.’” American Literature 34. 3 (Nov. 1962): 344-352.
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‘Young Goodman Brown’ and Eyes Wide Shut.” Religion and the Arts
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Pearce, Roy Harvey. “Romance and the Study of History.” Hawthorne Centenary
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1964.221-244.
Abdoulkhalak 19
Predmore, Richard. “‘Young Goodman Brown’ Night Journey into the Forest.”
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Tritt, Michael. “‘Young Goodman Brown’ and the Psychology of Projection.”
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