Ralph Waldo Emerson described Margaret Fuller «a foreigner  that with her, one would always be sensible of some barrier, as if in making up a friendship with a cultivated Spaniard or Turk»1. Some six years after her death Nathaniel Hawthorne, in Rome, infamously remarked on «her strange, heavy, unpliable, and  in many respects, defective and evil nature»2. Contemporaries and admirers of Fuller, men whom she influenced and inspired, were the same who eventually found in her a symbol of Otherness which threatened dominant assumptions of 19th century Western thought. Gendered, these valuations of Fuller's difference suggest the power relations which simultaneously informed and underwrote a Victorian American ethic of cultural hegemony.
In September 1844, in Concord, Hawthorne saw Fuller for the last time. Their friendship which began with her visits to Brook Farm in 1841 constituted, according to Thomas R. Mitchell, «the single most intimate adult relationship [Hawthorne] ever experienced with a woman apart from his wife, Sophia»3, a relationship filled with the «fullness of sympathy» (qtd. in "This Mutual", p. 113) which was to inform and interrogate the complexities of Hawthorne's most famous heroines: Beatrice in Rappaccini's Daughter (1844), Hester in The Scarlet Letter (1850) and Zenobia in The Blithedale Romance (1852). Viewed consecutively, the publication of these works over the period between Fuller's last meeting with Hawthorne and her death, map an increasingly complex and problematic envisioning of Otherness in which the female heart comes to challenge the patriarchal terms that seek to contain it. In Antonis Balasopoulos' words, the physical and ideological examples of death in these three works underline the «conformity to patriarchal culture's addiction to death over genuine inter-subjectivity» and the «community-consolidating Eros»4 which Fuller's writings advocated. Beatrice, Hester and Zenobia represent specific examples of female eroticism as exoticism, an idea of the foreign which dramatically conflates gendered unconventionality with disease, contamination, and death.
The Blithedale Romance, Hawthorne's fictional response, I will argue, to Fuller's drowning off Fire Island in July 1850, takes him back to Brook Farm, the Fourierist experiment in utopian socialism which Hawthorne briefly participated in and where Fuller often visited him. Blithedale, which gathers the characters in Hawthorne's novel, takes the author back to a romantic period in his life described as «a day-dream and yet a fact  offering an available foothold between fiction and reality» (p. 2). What, for Hawthorne, was to be dismissed as fictional daydream and what privileged as truth, becomes the contested terrain of reading the dead Fuller into The Blithedale's fantastic Zenobia. The name Zenobia refers to the famous Queen of Palmyra5 in the third century who was defeated by the Roman Emperor Aurelian in 272 for extending her territories; appropriately, the name signifies the foreign exoticism of Fuller's influence and the sense of ethnographic trespass her Italian experience, political and personal, may have represented to the dominant cultural views embraced by her male contemporaries. Like the Zenobia of Palmyra whose power in foreign lands is overcome by a reigning Aurelian, Hawthorne will dethrone his Queen to prove, as he would claim six years later in Rome, that «she fell as the weakest of her sisters might» (ce, 14, pp. 156-7).
In Rappaccini's Garden and Emerson's Concord Thomas R. Mitchell discusses Fuller's early literary concern with naming alternative symbols to «the rational light» or «scrutiny» of «the masculine sun»6 which dominated her cultural environment. Mitchell presents her two sketches of exotic flowers published in "The Dial" as Fuller's examples of a feminine principle of creativity. The Magnolia of Lake Pontchartrain and Yuca Filamentosa speak for a need to identify with «the feminine power of "the queen and guardian of the flowers"». Fuller «endows the flowers with the mythic beauty and creative force of the feminine, powers which the male featured in each sketch fails to comprehend and thus rejects» (p. 82). Prophetically, ten years later, Zenobia is characterized by the extravagant hot-house flower she wears in her hair, a symbol of her difference which Miles Coverdale finds «outlandish» and exotic, «a flower of the tropics» (p. 45). Quite taken by Zenobia's «imperial deportment», Coverdale focuses her sense of «native pride» (p. 13) on the flower; «more indicative of the pride and pomp» of her character «than if a diamond had sparkled among her hair» (p. 15), Zenobia's exoticism nevertheless signals the threat of her sexuality. «It might be» Coverdale muses, «that my feverish fantasies clustered themselves about this peculiarity and caused it to look more gorgeous and wonderful than if beheld with temperate eyes» (p. 45). Coverdale's conflation of Zenobia's sexuality with her sense of autonomy from convention suggests the ideological implications invested in what constituted women's "true" place or "real" character. Coverdale is impelled to read sex as the "natural", biological foundation of the power play that proves women's destiny to either meek subjugation or emotional and moral devastation; sexuality is the force that inevitably reinserts the master-slave relationships of fallen history in the midst of utopian radicalism (Balasopoulos, p. 114).
In Rappaccini's Daughter Giovanni is lured by the sound of Beatrice's voice into a garden of rich beauty which we, like Giovanni, discover to be one of poisoned artifice, an insane father's effort to wall in and control a daughter's nature. Thomas R. Mitchell's work on Margaret Fuller has followed the biographical chronology charted in Hawthorne's fictional responses to his five-year friendship with Fuller. Rappaccini's Daughter was published two years after a review in "The Dial" of Twice-Told Tales where Fuller urges Hawthorne to listen «to a voice that truly calls upon his solitude to open his study door»7 to the deeper experiences of the world. If Rappaccini's Daughter introduces us to Hawthorne's fictional dialogue with Fuller's view of the feminine Other, The Blithedale Romance becomes a postmortem narrative which will bury the body of Zenobia's drowned corpse, the symbol of her difference, to prove «the spirit is inestimable» (p. 244) and unchallenged by the flesh. Or, in Mitchell's words, «the desire to read the physical for the symbolic arises from the desire to gain power over a nature that one actually fears having communion with» (Rappaccini's Garden, p. 82).
Zenobia, like Beatrice, is defined by the hypnotic power of a voice which speaks her heart; it is a voice which infatuates Coverdale and brings Giovanni into Rappaccini's garden, but in both instances, it is a voice deemed suspect and finally dangerous when eroticised by the male gaze. Giovanni does not believe Beatrice's words despite the fact that she tells him they are «true from the depths of the heart»8 and Coverdale makes the early point of Zenobia's "real" nature being hidden: «It did one good to see a fine intellect (as hers really was, although its natural tendency lay in another direction than towards literature) so fitly cased» (p. 15). What is deemed natural is not Zenobia's articulated sense of herself and womankind; the voice with which she affirms her public stature is «a sort of mask in which she comes before the world » (p. 8) which, like her name «is not real». Zenobia, Coverdale tells us, «accorded something imperial which her friends attributed to this lady's figure and deportment  which, in fact, was thus far appropriate» (p. 13). The qualifying «thus far» suggests the relativity of Zenobia's claim to imperial stature. Like Beatrice's poisoned touch, Zenobia's physical sensuality, the fit encasement of her intellect, will gradually be foregrounded and treated as her downfall. If Fuller wished to revise a 19th century ideology of the male-dominated mind by introducing a discourse of the female heart, she located in her two early flower sketches a gendered vision which defined a philosophy of heart-involvement and creativity which she would, with increasing passion, embrace in her life and work. Fuller, from the start, wished to develop «a radical democratic self-consciousness»9. Always open to contact with the other, she lived her early admonishment that to be truly creative, one must «pass through» (qtd. in Rappaccini's Garden, p. 82) experience. The context of Fuller's work becomes an uneasy backdrop to the exceptionalist, even reactionary, ideology at work in Hawthorne's Blithedale community, one which subordinates the eros of the feminine heart to a Victorian ethos of domestic sentiment10.
The Native American Indian origin of the land Coverdale and his «knot of dreamers» name Blithedale, is dismissed for its «unpronounceable [and] unwritable»11 sound. It is, like Coverdale's speculation of Zenobia's past, a land once «full of weeds» (p. 44), a nature lacking in the «(agri) cultural» (Balasopoulos, p. 90) refinement of a white Puritan history which colonized the land and its native inhabitants. The imposition of Blithedale for the harsh multi-syllabic difficulties of a Native American Indian name, gets rid of the «grating (and potentially embarrassing)» which, Tony Tanner notes, begs the question of whose Utopia was this anyway? More pertinently, whose language is this and what does it legitimize by naming and render "unreal" by orientalizing? When Coverdale tells us his story offers «an available foothold between fiction and reality» (p. 2), he attempts, like the name Blithedale, to impose an ideology of order which barricades what his fantasies suggest as the primitivizing power of Zenobia's eroticism. «The native glow of coloring in her cheeks» and the hot-house flower in her hair which «appeared to have sprung passionately out of a soil the very weeds of which would have been fervid and spicy» (p. 41), speak for Zenobia's mystery and sensuality as the qualities of exoticism which will doom her.
Hawthorne's conflicted views on Fuller's pioneering work on women's rights, her ventures into the public domain of political involvement, were further complicated by her move to Italy where her coverage of the Italian Revolution for "The New York Tribune" introduced her to Giovanni Angelo Ossoli. The handsome Italian ten years her junior whom she may or may not have married but whose child she had, became the focus of the much debated question surrounding «Margaret's  moral reality» (ce, 14, pp. 155-6). As a further expression of Fuller's lifelong search for wider cultural agency, Italy provided Fuller with the landscape and experiences to do some of her most profound self-naming. Bell Gale Chevigny notes that Fuller's move to Italy was a search for a model of womanhood and lifestyle unavailable to her in her New England homeland12. Now an «active and practical participant on an international stage» ("Cultural Critique", p. 36), Fuller's Transcendentalist contemporaries in New England gradually came to conflate the «passionate force» (Blithedale, p. 79) of her unconventional womanhood with 19th century gendered notions of natural and unnatural societies of conduct. Zenobia's «generous modes of expression» and «noble courage» which «scorned petty restraints» (p. 44), echo Fuller's effort to define «a radical democratic vision» ("Cultural Critique", p. 37), a means by which to articulate American cultural involvement beyond the nation's geographical borders.
Italy provided Fuller with the cultural soil to feel herself «a citizen of the world»13, its sun waking, in her words, «a luxuriant growth that covers my mind»14. Yet Hawthorne, through Coverdale, quite literally translates that growth into weeds. As with Hollingsworth's crude masculinity, Zenobia's sensuality comes to define the terms of uncultivated Otherness; like the "ab-original" Indian name of the land the community imposes itself on, the «luxuriant growth in Zenobia's character» (p. 15) signals a destabilizing threat to «the severe culture» of an imposed Puritan order. «Her mind was full of weeds», we are told, «she made no scruple of overstepping all human institutions, and scattering them as with a breeze from her fan» (p. 44). The several references (I counted four) in the novel to «luxuriant growth» and to «weeds» are direct references, it would seem, to the words Fuller uses to express an empowered liberation from the constraints on her growth imposed within her own culture. That Hawthorne finds in Fuller's example the narrative frame (and language) to reinstate a dominant ideology of 19th century gendered values demonstrates an aggressive motion to defend a vision of cultural exceptionalism she hoped to revise.
The connection made between the "hardihood" of Zenobia's "philosophy" and the notion of trespassing is startling for the way it dismisses her intellect on the basis of its unconventionality and then conflates her mind with her body: «It was only the lack of a fitter avenue that drove her to seek development in literature. She was made (among a thousand other things that she might have been) for a stump-oratress». And then, «I know not well how to express, that the native glow of coloring in her cheeks, and even the flesh-warmth over her round arms, and what was visible of her full bust  compelled me sometimes to close my eyes, as if it were not quite the privilege of modesty to gaze at her» (p. 44). Coverdale's vision of Zenobia's exoticism becomes an expression of «imaginary imperialism» (Balasopoulos, p. 112); his hypochondriac psycho-somatic reactions to Zenobia's "fall" from intellectual self-sufficiency in her fatal love for Hollingsworth suggests a postmortem comment on her relationship with Ossoli, a man described variously as «underdeveloped and uninteresting» (w&m, p. 375), «entirely ignorant» and «extremely handsome» (w&m, p. 419).
If Zenobia's corporeal insubordination to 19th century codes of sexual conduct become the terms of her suicide, a result of Hollingsworth's choice of her archetypally passive half-sister Priscilla with «the heart of true womanhood» (Blithedale, p. 123), Hawthorne, through Coverdale, aims to comment on the undisciplined heart of socially radical and sexually unconventional women like Fuller. In Eros and Ideology John N. Miller discusses Hawthorne's depiction of eros as an «emotionally ambivalent, unstable [and] unpredictable» force»; it is, like the threat of weeds, an unchecked energy which inevitably dooms itself through its «unrestrained, savagely competing impulses» (p. 15). Fuller's transnational sense of cultural inter-subjectivity which inspired her to write from a land whose «sun» had birthed a «green [that] may be all of weeds» (lmf, p. 743) is reductively understood as a threat to a middle class domestic economy intolerant of gendered behavior apart from it. For Fuller, «weeds are beautiful in Italy» (lmf, p. 743); so far from her own land, Fuller had finally found the much sought after cultural context for what she calls, in another letter, «a means of mutual interpretation»15.
One would perhaps be more forgiving of Hawthorne's Zeno-phobic fears if the evidence of Fuller's own, articulated sense of vision were not so clear and so clearly misused to privilege the ideology in Coverdale's cover; his voyeuristic fantasies concerning Zenobia's identity implicate his sexualized view of her. The botanical associations of female anatomy which describe Zenobia's flowers, a euphemism for the vagina, are extended to describe the nature of the unstructured female heart. Balasopoulos notes, «her effusive carnality  her association with veils and sorcery, invest her with an Orientalist aura» which in turn «point to the operations of colonialism's unconscious» (p. 121). Zenobia's theatrical persona is not only a source of magic, of sorcery, but its ability to displace or confuse the "true" or "real" strengths of dominant conventions of femininity are what render it impermanent: «That flower» Coverdale tells us, «struck deep root into my memory  I can both see it and smell it » but its very physicality destroys it: «so rare, so costly as it must have been, and yet enduring only for a day » (p. 15).
While Hawthorne finds dark confusion in the actuality of physical and natural «human motives», viewing them as "ab-original" threats to «the ideal utopian aspirations» of a New England ideology of «sympathetic response» (Miller, pp. 12-3), Fuller, in Italy, defined an empathetic vision of cultural understanding. The distinction is crucial; sympathy defines itself, according to Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary as «having common feelings  [and] relationship between persons or things wherein whatever affects one similarly affects the other» (p. 1196, emphasis added). For Fuller empathy consisted of embracing diversity in empathetic understanding of the Other's difference which, as she so eloquently described it in her letters, «wakened a luxuriant growth» of cultural dialogue and «mutual interpretation».
Privileged middle class structures of family life fundamentally informed a 19th century white American vision of what was considered «the eternal order of Truth»16. Beatrice Rappaccini's heart's truth or Hester Prynne's forest scene declaration to Dimmesdale that their love «had a consecration of its own» because heartfelt, «We felt it so!»17, are silenced by the "severe culture" imposed by dominant patriarchal institutions. The Blithedale Romance comes at the end of a "trilogy" of inter-textual expressions of Fuller's lifetime influence on Hawthorne, one which seems to literally drown out the example of her alternative voice and her early vision of a «sensory, organic» (Rappaccini's Garden, p. 79) Eden of gendered and cultural mutuality. Before Zenobia takes her own life by drowning, she tells Coverdale, «in the battlefield of life, the downright stroke, that would fall only on a man's steel head-piece, is sure to light on a woman's heart, over which she has no breastplate, and whose wisdom it is, therefore, to keep out of conflict» (p. 224).
Margaret Fuller's death by drowning off Fire Island at the age of forty left certain questions about her life unanswered; what we do know is that the letters and journals which were published after her death were significantly altered by her brother Arthur Buckminster Fuller and her peers18; her original meanings were often conventionalized to adhere to a gendered middle class Victorian ideology she herself had transcended. The lack of clarity surrounding the question or fact of her marriage to Ossoli was treated as a given by those who wished to "save" her reputation. Emelyn Story, on visiting Fuller in Rome, writes of her change: «to me» she says «she seemed so unlike what I had known of her in America». Fuller apparently replied, «I am not the same person, I am in many respects, another, my life has new channels now and how thankful I am that I have been able to come out into larger interests » (w&m, p. 404).
It becomes a dark irony that Hawthorne should have Zenobia reinstate the notion of «the world's true aspect» (p. 224, emphasis added) according to the domestic ideology of truth which Fuller had redefined in her many dispatches from Italy where she read, as Chevigny explains it, «the alien terrain on its own terms» ("Cultural Critique", p. 32), or in its own truth. Fuller's ghost would continue to haunt Hawthorne's doomed heroines whose Otherness, like Zenobia's drowned corpse, expressed the socially defiant stands which inspired their author's punishing retribution. Perhaps Hawthorne's 19th century American notion of "the order of Truth" becomes the ultimate cover in Coverdale's «seemingly innocuous defense of inviolate autonomy». As Balasopoulos suggests, modern individualism with its emphasis on «total» autonomy sabotages the possibilities of «an interdependent world» (p. 133).
While Fuller in Italy worked to revise the American public perception of Italy, working to strengthen a self-consciousness which «crossed lines of race, class and nation» ("Cultural Critique", p. 37), in The Blithedale Romance Hawthorne has the many-faceted Zenobia conveniently falling for Hollingsworth's «native [male] power» (p. 167). A «rude, shaggy, swarthy man», Hollingsworth has the power, Coverdale incredulously admonishes, to make Zenobia fall in love with him. Perhaps then, not so coincidentally, when Hawthorne visited Rome with his family in 1858, Mr. Mozier's infamous gossip concerning Fuller and Ossoli uncannily echoed Hawthorne's fictionalized interpretation of the doomed Zenobia. He wrote in his journal:
The wonder is, what attraction she found in this boor, this man without the intellectual spark she that had always shown such a cruel and bitter scorn of intellectual delinquency  I do not understand what feeling there could have been, except it were purely sensual; as from him towards her, there could hardly have been even this, for she had not the charm of womanhood (ce, 14, pp. 155-6).
According to Hawthorne, Fuller like Zenobia «who took credit to herself for having been her own Redeemer, if not her own Creator» was after all «far more a work of art than any of Mr. Mozier's statues» (ce, 14, pp. 156-7). There was something in her heart, Hawthorne insists, which «she could not possibly come at, to re-create and refine», which «by and by  bestirred itself, and undid all her labor in the twinkling of an eye» so that «she fell as the weakest of her sisters might» (ce, 14, pp. 156-7, emphasis added). This epilogue to Fuller's courageous individualism proves misguided, if not insidious, given what she long considered the illusory «cheats of her culture» ("Cultural Critique", p. 28). If she prayed in her poem for a truth without illusions, Italy's sun gave her an alternative to the «"stern scrutiny" of the masculine sun» (Rappaccini's Garden, p. 82) of her own culture and the chance to redefine 19th century hegemonic views which contested Hawthorne's (and Coverdale's) gendered and cultural ideal.
Always the empathetic traveler, Fuller asked her country to respond to her depictions of Italy and the Italian revolution with the democratic promise of its own constitutional beginnings, to move toward a more complete, inclusive knowledge of the Other. In her "Dial" review of Hawthorne's Twice-Told Tales, she praises his «great reserve of thought», a strength Mitchell points out which she compares «in erotic masculine-feminine terms to being like a "noble tree" standing "untouched and self-sufficing in its fulness of foliage on a distant hill"» ("This Mutual", p. 112). Her urging that he «paint in blood-warm colors» by initiating himself in a dialogue with the feminine Other, becomes the very language of Zenobia's downfall. How tragic that Fuller's death, her prematurely silenced voice which celebrated the luxurious growth of her inclusive «contact with the other» ("Cultural Critique", p. 32) should be so «Xeno» and «Zeno» phobically interpreted as nothing more than the «ranker vegetation that grew out of Zenobia's heart» (p. 244).
1. R. W. Emerson, W. H. Channing, J. F. Clarke (eds.), Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli, i, Burt Franklin, New York 1972, (1852st; 1884nd), pp. 227-99.
2. N. Hawthorne, The Centenary Edition of the Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, ed. William Charvat et al., 14, Ohio State University Press, Columbus 1963-97, pp. 156-7. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by abbreviated title (ce), volume and page number.
3. Thomas R. Mitchell has dealt extensively with Fuller's defining influence on Hawthorne's work and argues that «(excepting Sophia alone) Hawthorne's friendship with Fuller was the single most intimate adult relationship he ever experienced with a woman». T. R. Mitchell, "This Mutual Visionary Company": Nathaniel Hawthorne and Margaret Fuller, in F. Fleischmann (ed.), Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique, Her Age and Legacy, Peter Lang, New York 2000, pp. 107-20. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by title and page number. See also T. R. Mitchell, Hawthorne's Fuller Mystery, University of Massachusetts, Amherst 1998.
4. Antonios Balasopoulos uses Freud's, Civilization and its Discontents to read a postcolonial critique of Hawthorne's, The Blithedale Romance and Melville's, Typee in chapter 2 of his doctoral dissertation; his discussion has been crucial to my reading of how the idea of the gendered Other in Rappaccini's Daughter, The Scarlet Letter and The Blithedale Romance constructs a (colonizing) vision of female sexuality which constitutes gendered paradigms of death. A. Balasopoulos, Groundless Dominions: Utopia and Empire from the Fiction of America to American Fiction, diss., Minnesota University, 1998, p. 119. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by author and page number.
5. The name Zenobia is appropriately Oriental (Palmyra), signifying the many instances in the novel when Coverdale describes Zenobia in "Orientalizing" terms; she is associated with veils, magic, sorcery, witchery and enchantment, aspects which she herself scorns: «I scorn to owe anything to magic» (p. 45), she says. Thus Coverdale's projections of her difference have more to do with the nature of his own fantasies than with her definition of herself. Mitchell has documented the many instances when Fuller was referred to as "Queen Margaret". See references to Sophia Hawthorne's journals in Mitchell, "This Mutual Visionary Company": Hawthorne and Margaret Fuller, cit. I find it significant that Hawthorne should choose the historical Zenobia to name his heroine after, because she is punished for her expansionist ambitions «after extending the territories under her control, and led captive through Rome». J. Dugdale, Explanatory Notes, The Blithedale Romance, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, ed. T. Tanner, 3 of The Centenary Edition of the Works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ohio State University Press, Columbus 1964; Oxford University Press, Oxford 1991, p. 249.
6. In Rappaccini's Garden and Emerson's Concord Mitchell discusses Fuller's identification with flowers as an alternative symbol to the masculine intellectual influences of her father and Emerson; he quotes from two sketches (Yuca Filamentosa and The Magnolia of Lake Pontchartrain published in "The Dial"): «To transcend the self, to be truly creative, man must experience the feminine power of "the queen and guardian of the flowers"». Mitchell, Rappaccini's Garden and Emerson's Concord, in Hawthorne and Women: Engendering and Expanding the Hawthorne Tradition, eds. J. L. Idol, M. M. Ponder, University of Massachusetts Press, Amherst 1999, pp. 75-91. Subsequent references to this work in the text appear by title and page number.
7. In both "This Mutual Visionary Company": Nathaniel Hawthorne and Margaret Fuller and Rappaccini's Garden and Emerson's Concord Mitchell cites Fuller's review in "The Dial" of Hawthorne's Twice-Told Tales, emphasizing, in both cases, her insistence on the necessity of a dialogue with life beyond «his study door»; only this, she wrote, would initiate his genius into «deeper experiences». What is fascinating is the emphasis she puts on the danger of «the passionless monologue» of the artist/observer's solitude, that describes Coverdale's often voyeuristic stance; the voice Hawthorne would have to listen to, Fuller continues, would be that which would endow his «unsubstantial characters» with more depth of life. She insists: «No talent at observation, no sympathies, however ready and delicate, can compensate». Review of Twice-Told Tales, in "Dial", 3 (July 1842), pp. 130-1 (qtd. in Mitchell, "This Mutual Visionary Company", cit., pp. 118-9; Id., Rappaccini's Garden and Emerson's Concord, cit., p. 86).
8. N. Hawthorne, Rappaccini's Daughter, in The Heath Anthology of American Literature, ed. P. Lauter, 3rd ed., 1, Houghton Mifflin Co., New York 1998, p. 2247.
9. Bell Gale Chevigny discusses how Fuller's belief in her own culture's ideological beginnings fueled her «ready indignation over failures of democratic policy». B. G. Chevigny, "Cheat me [On] by No Illusion": Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique and its Legacies, in F. Fleischmann (ed.), Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique, cit., pp. 27-39. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by title and page number.
10. See J. N. Miller, Eros and Ideology: At the Heart of Hawthorne's "Blithedale", in "Nineteenth-Century Literature", lv (2000), pp. 1-21. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by author and page number.
11. See T. Tanner, Introduction to The Blithedale Romance, by N. Hawthorne, cit., p. xx.
12. See B. G. Chevigny, The Woman and The Myth: Margaret Fuller's Life and Writings, The Feminist Press, Old Westbury 1976, p. 25. Subsequent references to this work appear in the text by abbreviated title (w&m) and page number.
13. See F. Fleischmann, Introduction: Cultural Translation as Cultural Critique, in Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique, cit., p. 3.
14. Letter 743 (August 15, 1848) in The Letters of Margaret Fuller, 6 vols., R. N. Hudspeth (ed.), Cornell University Press, Ithaca and London 1983-1994, v, p. 107. Subsequent references to the letters in the text appear as lmf with the letter number.
15. In Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique Chevigny quotes from Fuller's letter to James F. Clarke in which she defends her view of literature as «a means of mutual interpretation». Letters, cit., vi, p. 359.
16. T. Walter Herbert discusses the 19th century domestic ideal and its influence on the Hawthorne family who expressed an archetypal «quotidian family life against an eternal order of Truth». T. W. Herbert, Dearest Beloved, The Hawthornes and the Making of the Middle-Class Family, University of California Press, Berkeley 1993, p. 8.
17. N. Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter and Other Tales of the Puritans, ed. H. Levin, Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston 1960, p. 194.
18. See D. Z. Baker, Arthur Buckminster Fuller's (Re)Vision of the Life and Work of Margaret Fuller, in Margaret Fuller's Cultural Critique, cit. pp. 251-63.