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JANE EYRE AND ROCHESTER: SOUL- MATES IN SEARCH OF THEIR ESSENTIAL SELVES

by Orah Rosenblatt

"Come Baby find me,
Come Baby remind me
Of where I once begun;
Come Baby show me,
Show me you know me,
Tell me you're the one....
It's like my whole life never happened
When I'm with you, as if I've never had a thought;
I know this dream It might be crazy,
But it's the only one I've got...."

(Bob Dylan, "Emotionally Yours")


     Each of us carries within us the seed of a unique plant. When circumstances conspire to caringly nourish that seed in the manner most appropriate to its true nature-- circumstances which, sadly, are as rare as they are fortunate--the germ of our original selves is likely to flourish. When, however, this tender seed receives attention which is insufficient or antithetical to its essential inclination, growth is inevitably blighted in some way. Weaker or more sensitive seedlings may wither outright; others will be irreparably stunted. Stronger plants may yet grow to imposing heights, but they will be bent and twisted at the places where their needs were unmet, and may well feel eternally compelled to somehow loosen the knot of those deforming deprivations, so as to come closer to their originally intended shapes: Jane Eyre and Rochester are two such plants; driven by an indomitable will to find and follow their essential selves, they discover in each other a vital key to the realization of that end.
     As every conscientious parent knows, a child needs both roots--love and security--and wings--belief in, and encouragement of, his autonomy--in order to mature. While gifted with the latter--the drive for self-realization previously mentioned--Jane and Rochester have been severely deprived of the foundation of the former. They are both outsiders. The identities they have succeeded in forging for themselves thus have a quality of rare integrity, for they primarily have come from within, not from the outer prompting to please and emulate others. At the same time, these characters lack the sense of security and connectedness which is the vital prop of such gifts. When the two meet, that "mysterious chemistry [which] usually links partners who are virtually psychological twins" (Napier and Whitaker, The Family Crucible, p. 116) enables them to quickly recognize their kinship, the great strength and intense neediness both share. The bond forged between them serves as a dual link for both--back to the sense of belonging which both lacked In their most impressionable years, and forward to the recognition and realization of their individual true selves.
     That one must frequently go back in order to move ahead is a principle well known in both religion and psychology. In Judaism, the word teshavah means both repentance and return. Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, an early nineteenth century sage, stresses the theme of "descents" and "ascents": Each time one wishes to rise to a new stage of spiritual development, one is generally forced to descend first, in order to reclaim the "lost sparks" of potential holiness buried in the "excrement" of prior confusion and misdeeds (Nachman of Breslov, M'Shivath Hefesh). The radical psychotherapist R. D. Laing calls this process "regression" and "progression": If the schizophrenic wishes to spend hours staring at a blank wall, well, then he should be encouraged to do so; he will eventually break through; after all, when Zen monks do it it's called the search for enlightenment (R. D, Laing, The Voice of Experience).
     In many ways, Jane appears to be further advanced than Rochester in this inner work of regression/progression. In part, this may be due to the early spiritual guidance of the saintly Helen Burns. We see evidence of Jane's increased maturity and compassion in the objective, forgiving way she re-encounters, and masters, those demons of her childhood, the Reeds. Jane has apparently come far in healing the wounds of her old bitterness and anger; this letting go of old grievances is essential if she is to move on and grow. Other events and characters in this novel similarly test Jane's ability to confront situations reminiscent of childhood conflicts, where she must weather a threatened loss of self in order to emerge with that self chastened, strengthened and renewed. During the three days she spends homeless and hungry after fleeing from Rochester, she re-experiences the utter aloneness and rootlessness of her early years yet retains her faith in G-d's will; rescued by the Rivers family, she is rewarded by Providence with the elevating discovery of a true kinship--in blood as well as spirit such as she has always longed for but never before known.
     Her relationships with both Rochester and St. John Rivers involve Jane in the regression of sexual self- surrender, threatening the immersion of her hard-won identity in theirs. Her refusal to be Rochester's pseudo-wife constitutes Jane's triumph in her most crucial spiritual test, as she makes the wrenching choice between her idolatrous love for him and her belief in G-d. Though her bond with Rochester provides her hardest trial, it also gives her the clarity and strength to successfully avoid what would have been another, probably fatal, snare to her self development--the marriage proposal of St. John Rivers. St. John, too, is stamped with an inviolate integrity of self, but he sees Jane solely as an instrument for his own ends and acknowledges only those parts of her nature which dovetail with his own designs. It is because she has experienced Rochester's sincere, if flawed, love and appreciation, that Jane is able to recognize the inadequacy and destructiveness of this proffered bond.
     Rochester, while yearning for what is good, honest and pure, and attracted to those redemptive qualities in Jane, must overcome the hubris and narcissistic self-indulgence which has goaded him into self-idolatry, placing the gratification of his own desires above the will of G-d. In his regressive flirtation with Blanche Ingram, reminiscent of his initial attraction to Bertha and his various mistresses, he re-confirms his preference for inner, rather than outer, beauty in a mate. His desertion by Jane and the subsequent loss of his arm and eyesight return Rochester to a state of alienation and despair from which only humility and belief in G-d can redeem him. In the end, by placing G-d first in their lives and accepting His chastisement, both Jane and Rochester are rewarded by reunion with one another, their separate salvations of self crowned by the redemption of re- unification on a higher level. The sense of acceptance and belonging which they experience with one another, and the recognition each feels for long-denied facets of the other's true nature--Rochester for Jane's passion, Jane for Rochester's yearning for honesty and goodness--has helped both to re-connect with their original essential selves.
     Because the love between Jane and Rochester--despite its darker, inevitable element of power struggle--is rooted in this recognition of, and respect for, each other's true selves. I found the final felicitous resolution of their relationship to be satisfying and acceptable, and was even able to wink and overlook the improbable and melodramatic route that resolution took (though I do wish it could have been reached without the taint of Rochester's disempowerment). There is something moving and beautiful about these two people, indefatigably reaching for love: like two trees in a dense, dark forest, bending, twisting and inter-twining to reach an aperture of warm, bright sunlight, more beautiful to my mind than their unblemished brothers.


CIVILIZATION AND ITS DISCONTENTS IN WUTHERING HEIGHTS

By Marsha Beitchman


      Our view of nature as a force in need of taming goes hack to prehistoric times when our ancestors recognized the need, for their own survival and the continuation of the species, to gain some control over themselves and their environment. Paleolithic man was but a small figure in a vast landscape and surely felt a strong sense of vulnerability in regards to the overwhelming odds he faced. Artifacts dating back to this period indicate man's efforts to understand, placate and hopefully subdue the often hostile yet profoundly awe inspiring forces of nature. From these attempts evolved a system of alliances and codes for interaction that we know as civilization.
      Civilization is based on cooperation. Its success depends on individuals working together for the welfare of the group. It requires a balance between our instinctual needs and desires and the demands placed on us by society. But not all individuals perform in ways that promote the general welfare, nor do all of us share equally in the benefits that civilization claims to offer.
      The powerful forces that reside within us are related to the elemental forces of nature. Civilization does not transcend or eliminate the underlying violence within each of us, it sublimates it and attempts to direct it into socially acceptable outlets. Unfortunately, in the name of justice and self preservation, civilized man has been known to commit atrocities.
      Wuthering Heights is an attempt to understand and reconcile those natural forces within us with the expectations of society. Heathcliff is an example of the effects of cruelty, deprivation and alienation that are the by products of civilization. His brutality is a direct result of his having been denied the fundamental need for nurturing that children thrive on. Abandoned as a child, uncared for and unloved, he was left to fend for himself in what must have seemed a hostile and frightening world. Constant rejection and humiliation stimulated his desire for revenge. Having been rejected he in turn rejects the system that spawned him and he sets out to destroy it. He attempts to turn the cruelty he experienced back on those whom he feels have wronged him and thereby relieve his own suffering. He substitutes hate for love, violence for peace, and disorder for harmony. He brutally separates those whom he considers his enemies from their comforts and security, their honor, and finally from those for whom they care. Unable to accept the need to control and modify his passions as a means of partaking in the love and acceptance he craves, his efforts leave him lonely and tormented. He finds himself no closer to the retribution for the love he lost nor the peace of mind for which he desperately longed.
      Heathcliff was an exile and an outsider from the first. On his arrival at Wuthering Heights, Nelly describes him as dirty and ragged, of unknown origins and speaking gibberish. He is immediately regarded as a source of discord. Catherine's reaction is to spit in his face and Nelly leaves him in the hall overnight in the hope that he will disappear. Hindley loses no time in expressing his disdain for Heathcliff; bitterly resenting his father's alienation of affection in favor of his "imp of Satan," he persecutes Heathcliff relentlessly. Hindley's treatment of Heathcliff, in Nelly's opinion, was "enough to make a fiend of a saint." In spite of this adversity Nelly remembers Heathcliff as "the gentlest child that was ever watched over... as uncomplaining as a lamb."
      Heathcliff's relation with Catherine was the only comfort he had. They formed a bond that enabled them to endure the harsh treatment they were subjected to by Hindley after the death of old Earnshaw, when Hindley became master of Wuthering Heights and vindictively reduced Heathcliff to the status of a servant. Turning to each other, Heathcliff and Catherine found acceptance and understanding and they became inseparable until the incident at Thrushcross Grange. It is here that they get their first taste of the beauty and luxury of cultured life. Catherine is immediately accepted but Heathcliff horrifies the Lintons by his appearance and his manners. They call him a thief and a gypsy, "a wicked boy at all events and quite unfit for a decent house," and Isabella wants the "frightful thing" to be put in the cellar.
      Heathcliff returns alone to Wuthering Heights and spends five lonely weeks there while he awaits Catherine's return. However, on her arrival he perceives an alteration in her attitude toward him. When the young Lintons visit the following day, already feeling a sense of rejection for his untamed ways in favor of the civilized life at the Grange, Heathcliff takes offense at a condescending remark of Edgar's and he sets off a crisis that concludes with Heathcliff's banishment from the festivities. He feels frustration at his inability to compete with Edgar, and he is furious at Hindley's humiliating treatment, so he begins to plot his revenge. His anger is further aroused when he overhears Catherine's plans to marry Edgar and, overwhelmed by what he interprets as her abandonment of him, he impetuously flees the moors.
      On his return, several years later, Heathcliff discovers that Catherine has in fact married Edgar Linton. He grows more vindictive and morose. The more pain he feels, the more sinister he becomes. He marries Isabella only to torment Edgar, his rival. He destroys what little there is left of Hindley and he takes on the `education' of young Hareton. With Catherine's death Heathcliff's anger and frustration peak and his behavior verges on madness. He is unable to consider a life without his beloved. He is incapable of being consoled and he turns before Nelly into a savage beast. He is consumed with an unspeakable sadness and in desperation he retreats from reality. He is driven on by the desire to revenge his loss and alleviate his pain. In this state of mind Heathcliff forces the marriage of his son Linton and young Cathy and in doing so his efforts to destroy Edgar are finally achieved. Shortly after young Linton succumbs to the brutal treatment he found at his father's hand. But Heathcliff's obsession with Catherine never ceases. For the eighteen years that followed her death he saw her image everywhere, just out of his reach. He confides to Nelly that "the entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her." Her physical appearance is reflected in the faces of young Cathy and Hareton, who eventually find consolation in each other. Their love is so painful a reminder to Heathcliff he can longer abide their presence and he withdraws into his own world. Close to death he makes a final desperate but unanswered plea for compassion and with this last rejection he dies a broken hearted and tormented soul. With Heathcliff's death order returns to Wuthering Heights, and with the union of Cathy and Hareton comes a rebirth of the ideals of peace and harmony on which civilization is based.
      There can be no doubt as to Heathcliff's inhuman brutality and the deliberate pain and destruction he causes to those he despises. He is not alone, however, in his cruelty. As old Joseph says, there is something of the other in all of us, and with few exceptions the characters in this novel share to some extent a degree of self absorbing pride and a disdain for what they consider to be threats to their own security and happiness that proves to be destructive.
      It is interesting to note one of the cruelest scenes in the novel is Lockwood's dream, in which he savagely drags the arm of Catherine's ghost over the broken window pane as she pleads for help. Lockwood has been treated rudely by his hosts earlier in the evening and his suppression of the fear and anger aroused by his humiliation is brutally awakened in his dream. Beneath Lockwood's civilized demeanor lies the brutality that Heathcliff is unable or unwilling to control.
      In Edgar Linton we find a sheltered, pampered and indulged youngster who grows into a rather self satisfied man, dependent on others for his own protection. His wealth, education and position bring him security, comfort and respect, but his seclusion gives him a limited understanding of the feelings and needs of those less fortunate than he. Edgar has mastered the superficial graces of civilized life but he is snobbish and often insensitive to those he feels threatened by, and his claims to superiority are offensive and cruel. Edgar's hatred and jealousy of Heathcliff are at first subdued by Catherine. But the knowledge that the "low ruffian," whose "presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous," has a hold on his wife, leads Edgar to strike Heathcliff with the violence and brutality that Nelly says would have leveled a slighter man. Hastily retreating from the scene he leaves his armed servants to eject the "offensive blackguard." Neither his education nor his civilized upbringing could restrain his passion and in his effort to separate Heathcliff and Catherine he deals the blow that leads to her illness and finally to her death.
      Edgar's condemnation of Isabella is equally tyrannical. He regards his sister's marriage to Heathcliff as the act of a traitor and he selfishly abandons her without a second thought. She is even excluded from Catherine's funeral and is forced to live out her days separated from her family and he friends. Only on her death does Edgar show her any compassion.
      In young Linton Heathcliff we also see signs of self indulgence and insensitivity to others. He whines and complains at the merest provocation. Frail and timid he is unable to withstand Heathcliff's onslaught and the harshness of the Heights itself. He selfishly and cowardly entraps Cathy in his father's scheme and unsympathetically sides with Heathcliff, who torments her. He looks forward to his uncle's death when he would become master of Thrushcross Grange, a dream that would never be fulfilled.
      Ironically it is young Cathy that remains at young Linton's side until his death. She and Hareton are the sole survivors of Heathcliff's rage. They alone are able to accept and transcend their differences. They grow to love and respect one another and thereby find the balance needed to reestablish the peace and harmony that eluded their elders.
      Civilization exacts a price from its members. Some individuals, for reasons intrinsic to society itself, pay more dearly than others. They become unwilling or unable to abide by its rules! They allow themselves to be governed by their fears and their passions and commit acts that lead to a breakdown in the social system. Students of psychology recognize that those who are made miserable tend to make others miserable. Heathcliff represents the anger and cruelty that can be produced by a system that claims superiority over untamed nature but can often be just as brutal and inhumane.


HUCK FINN'S HERO JOURNEY

by Janet House

      In his book The Hero With a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell sets forth his theory that there is a monomyth which underlies all folk tales, myths, legends and even dreams.* Reflected in the tales of all cultures, including Chinese, Hindu, American Indian, Irish and Eskimo, this monomyth takes the form of a physical journey which the protagonist (or hero) must undergo in order to get to a new emotional, spiritual and psychological place. The monomyth is a guide which integrates all of the forces of life and provides a map for living.
      Campbell breaks down the cycle into three main stages: departure, initiation and return. Within these three stages are five to six steps through which the hero moves. First, the hero must leave his world and undertake a journey into an unknown world, in effect losing himself and descending into death. Next, he undergoes a series of tests, assisted by various helpers, which can be very dangerous and threatening. These tests serve as guideposts in his journey, and from each the hero learns something which helps to move him along. Finally, the hero reaches the apex of his journey, where there*is an apotheosis or transcendence. The hero, having evolved and emerged into his best possible self, must return home carrying with him his new found knowledge or boon to restore the world.
      First, Huck as the hero is not of noble birth whereas most of Campbell's protagonists are princes, princesses or divinely chosen in some way. While Huck Finn is special, he is, nevertheless, an ordinary American boy which other American boys can identify with. Secondly, magic and the supernatural play an important role in the tales Campbell uses to illustrate the hero cycle. In The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, however, there is no magic. There is luck, coincidence (at times highly unlikely coincidence), but there is no magic or supernatural. This again brings the story to a level that Americans can identify with. Finally, Huck's return is of a different nature than the traditional journey which reflects a particularly American ideal.
      Huck Finn's adventure begins when he sees his father's footprint in the snow. Up to this point, Huck describes his daily, routine life, but the footprint signals a change. Huck's father functions, therefore, as the herald signaling the call to adventure by "the crisis of his appearance" (Campbell, 51). As Campbell states:

The herald or announcer of the adventure is often dark, loathly, or terrifying, judged evil by the world; yet if one could follow, the way would be opened through the walls of day into the dark where the jewels glow (Campbell, 53).

Huck's father is portrayed as dark (morally, not physically), loathly, terrifying and he is indeed judged evil by the world, but it also he who precipitates Huck's journey.
      When Huck's father moves him into the woods, Huck is in the first stages of his journey. He is away from all that is familiar to him and the longer Huck remains in the woods, the more he adjusts to the ways of life there. He cannot imagine going back to civilization, wearing stiff clothes, minding his manners and all the other ways he has acquired living with the Widow Douglas. According to Campbell, this alienation from his previous life is part of the cycle:
The familiar life horizon has been outgrown; the old concepts, ideals, and emotional patterns no longer fit; the time for the passing of a threshold is at hand (Campbell, 51).

      Huck's next step in his journey is what Campbell calls "The Belly of the Whale": "The hero . . . is swallowed into the unknown, and would appear to have died" (Campbell, 90 ). In order to proceed, the hero must leave his world totally and die into himself in order to be reborn again. He must relinquish his ties with this world in order to attain a higher level of existence, which is the purpose of his journey.
      Because Huck fears for his safety, he realizes that he must leave the woods. Yet he does not want to return to his previous life. Therefore, he elaborately stages his own death, planning every detail carefully so that everyone will think he is dead and will not, therefore, look for him and bring him back to the existence he has outgrown. This "self-annihilation" is absolutely crucial for the journey.
      After his "death," Huck floats down to Jackson's Island and spends three days and three nights by himself (reinforcing the theme of death and rebirth) before the next stage of his journey. Here, Huck meets up with Jim who is what Campbell refers to as "Supernatural Aid":
The first encounter of the hero-journey is with a protective figure (often a little old crone or old man) who provides the adventurer with amulets against the dragon forces he is about to pass (Campbell, 69).

      The fact that the aid often comes from a little old crone or an old man suggests that it comes from someone whom society does not value. To have someone whom society does not value provide essential elements to the journey is ironic. As the provider of "supernatural aid" to Huck, Jim, a 19th century black man, is not valued in human terms by his society. Indeed, he is not even thought of as human, which further heightens this irony.
      While Jim does not literally provide Huck with amulets against the dragon forces, figuratively, he does. As Campbell states: "what such a figure represents is the benign, protecting power of destiny" (Campbell, 71). Jim cares for and protects Huck, nurtures him and loves him, both mothers and fathers him, calling him "honey" and watching out for his safety. Most importantly, however, Jim provides Huck with a belief in humanity, where all along the river Huck sees evidence of man's corruption and cruelty. This belief is the amulet with which with Huck will fight off the "dragon forces," those forces being man's inhumanity to man.
      The Crossing of the First Threshold comes after Huck has learned that two men are on their way to the island. Up to this point, Jim and Huck exist in a kind of limbo, both having escaped their previous lives, but not going forward. At this point, they must move. Jim risks being captured and sold; Huck risks a return to the life he has outgrown. They must cross the threshold into the region of the unknown. Although this crossing is dangerous, the hero must move beyond it in order to enter a "new zone of experience" (Campbell, 82).
      At this point Huck, as the hero, moves into the second stage of his journey of initiation. It is here where he encounters the Road of Trials:
Once having traversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials . . . . The hero is covertly aided by the advice, amulets, and secret agents of the supernatural helper whom he met before his entrance into this region. (Campbell, 97).

These trials are tests for the hero which he must overcome in order to move forward in his journey. They serve as guideposts along the way, reflecting his progress and growth. By surviving these trials, the hero moves to a point of transcendence. The purpose of the trials is to gain some kind of knowledge or insight which the hero needs in order to complete his journey. This leads to the question: what is the purpose of Huck's journey? Every episode along the river in some way illustrates man's inhumanity to man. Meeting every walk of life, Huck's confrontation with this world illustrates cruelty and corruption of some kind. While some characters are obviously corrupt (the king and the duke, for example), all characters are tainted somehow. Even the most charitable characters--the woman Huck meets while dressed as a girl, the Grangerfords, the Phelps, Mary Jane--are tainted by their attitudes toward blacks or towards other people in general. However, Huck's exposure to society's corruption is balanced by the kindness he receives from certain people and by the humanity he learns from Jim.
      As a product of his society, Huck believes in slavery and also believes he is doing wrong by protecting Jim. But Huck comes to see Jim's own humanity through their friendship. Jim tells Huck that he is the best and only friend he has, the only white man who has kept his promise to him. Jim's belief in Huck's goodness is essential to Huck's physical as well as psychological journey. This relationship teaches Huck about caring for another human being in the face of ubiquitous cruelty. This is the more elevated purpose of Huck's journey. Huck learns the techniques for humane survival--how to exist in the cruel world and not be corrupted by it.
      Huck's trials finally come to a crisis when the king and the duke are attempting to swindle the Wilks girls out of their inheritance. Up until this point, Huck has remained rather passive with regard to their antics. Disgusted by their behavior, however, Huck exclaims: "It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race" (Twain, 285). He decides that he must take some action and his dilemma is over how to help the girls. Previously, Huck has lied to survive but here he realizes that his best option may be to tell the truth. This is a moment of transcendence for Huck as he rises above his experience of the past and takes a chance in telling the truth: "here's a case where I'm blest if it don't look to me like the truth is better, and actually safer, than a lie" (Twain, 299).
      This test also melds with what Campbell calls "The meeting With the Goddess." Because Huck is only a boy, there will be no "mystical marriage" with the "Universal Mother," the "incarnation of the promise of perfection." This is not to be a part of Huck's journey. Yet Mary Jane does inspire Huck. He finds her beautiful and it is because of her that he risks telling the truth and, consequently, he reaches a new level. It is obvious that she has a positive effect on him which propels him in his journey. Huck's description as he flees the cemetery and passes her house reveals this:
[M]y heart swelled up sudden, like to bust; and the same second the house and all was behind me in the dark, and wasn't ever going to be before me no more in this world. She was the best girl I ever see and had the most sand (Twain, 309).

      For Campbell, the Apotheosis occurs when the hero is raised to the level of the gods. It is a divine state which the hero attains after proving himself through his trials. Because this story is not about gods or mythic figures, Huck's apotheosis is reflected through his transcendence over his dilemma about Jim. Huck really believes he is doing wrong by helping Jim because of what he has learned in society. He even writes a letter to Miss Watson, revealing Jim's location. But Huck begins to think about Jim and his kindness, loyalty and friendship. He must choose between listening to the voice of society or his inner voice, which values Jim. He cannot violate the connection he has with Jim. However, because Huck really believes he is doing wrong by society's standards, it is a true moment of transcendence for him when he declares: "All right, then, I'll go to hell" (Twain, 309). Rising above the conventions and the level of society around him, Huck has attained a higher moral consciousness.
      The next stage in Huck's journey is The Return. After deciding to help Jim, Huck finds himself at the Phelps' farm, where they mistake him for their nephew, Tom Sawyer. This is the beginning of the "Crossing of the Return Threshold" because Huck is now back in a world which directly connects to the world he left behind.
      Tom and Huck's attempt to rescue Jim is "The Magic Flight." This is the last test, one of the purposes of Huck's journey being to free Jim. Campbell states that the Magic Flight can often become a "lively, often comical, pursuit . . . complicated by marvels of magical obstruction and evasion" (Campbell, 197). Again, the story does not involve magic, but the attempt to rescue Jim otherwise fits Campbell's description (even if the obstructions are for the most part created by Tom).
      Something interesting happens with the appearance of Tom. Huck has always looked up to Tom as the standard by which he measures himself. Yet Huck has been on a journey which has raised him above that standard. Curiously, when Tom reappears, Huck recedes, becoming passive. On the first reading, this section comes across as digressive from the normal hero cycle (and somewhat disjointed). It seems out of place with Huck's progression. But it can be reevaluated as a part of Huck's journey in that it serves to heighten the disparity between the two boys and, in doing so, we see Huck's growth.
      Huck still looks up to Tom, but he is not like Tom and does not use Tom as his model. He even calls Tom ridiculous and foolish, which is very different from his attitude towards Tom in the opening pages of the book where Tom is someone admired and respected. In this section, we see by comparison to Huck how conventional, ordinary, unimaginative and even cruel Tom is. All of Tom's ideas come from books; Huck develops his ideas himself. Tom's idea of style is to make his plans as complicated as possible and take as long as possible; Huck's solutions are always straight forward, simple and reveal his common sense. Tom even plays a trick on the slave who serves Jim which is reminiscent of the trick that Huck plays on Jim after the fog episode. However, at this point in his journey, Huck would never do this.
      Sometimes the hero is unable to return on his own. At this point, the "Rescue From Without" occurs:
The hero may have to be brought back from his supernatural adventure by assistance from without. That is to say, the world may have to come and get him (Campbell, 207).

Huck is indeed rescued from without by the Phelps, Tom and Aunt Polly. In an unlikely coincidence, they all appear as a deus ex machina whose appearance isn't logical but serves to bring Huck back.
      Huck's return is complete when the Phelps discover his identity and Huck learns that Jim is free. Huck also learns that his father is dead (releasing him from that legacy) and he still has his $6,000. There is a resurrection of his old self. Here, however, Huck's return digresses from the normal cycle. Campbell states: "the returning hero, to complete his adventure, must survive the impact of the world" (Campbell, 226). It is hard to say whether Huck accomplishes this.
      The monomythic hero, after attaining the Ultimate Boon, returns to his community and bestows his wisdom and knowledge for the good the "kingdom of humanity." Huck will not return to the Widow Douglas and he will not stay with the Phelps. He rejects their world and he doesn't want to be civilized. It seems as if he can't survive the impact of the world.
      But rather than a failed hero journey, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn reflects a particularly American hero quest, the individualistic man going west, with all the inherent dangers involved, a pioneer taming and settling the land. Rather than returning for his old world, Huck's quest is to explore new territories.

Footnotes

* Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973). All further references to this work appear in parentheses in the text.
** Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in The American Tradition in Literature, ed. George Perkins, et al. (New York: McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, 1990). All further references to this work appear in parentheses in the text.


THE VERLOCS AT THEIR FINAL ENCOUNTER

      The Verloc murder scene depicts the reactions of two people to a crisis situation. It is a significant scene in terms of revealing basic personality traits and in terms of highlighting the fragmentation that exists in the Verloc marriage. Conrad makes obvious that the Verlocs perceive their marital roles in fundamentally different ways and that they are really strangers to each other. The black veil covering Winnie's face is merely the outward symbol of the secrecy and mystery pervading the Verloc household. Significantly, when Verloc pulls the veil away, he doesn't succeed in "unmasking a still unreadable face" (p. 211).
      As this scene of betrayal and retribution unfolds, we see a husband and wife who are totally out of tune with each other's emotions and thoughts. Verloc is thoroughly enveloped in domestic considerations at precisely the time that Winnie psychologically disengages herself from any commitment to him. In progressive stages, Winnie perceives herself as being "a free woman" (p. 209), fears that Verloc will "want to keep her for nothing" (p. 211), and finally resolves that "the bargain" is "at an end" (p. 215). Verloc, on the other hand, strives to "make it up with her" (p. 215) and can't begin to imagine "that his wife could give him up" (p. 211). The height of irony is achieved when Verloc seeks to "woo" Winnie as she moves toward him with the carving knife.
      It becomes clear that Winnie has looked upon the marriage as a transaction, and that Stevie's welfare has been the basis for that transaction. In return for Verloc's support of Stevie, Winnie has been a dutiful wife. Verloc, however, genuinely believes that he is and has been "loved for himself" (p. 214). Given his superficial notion of marriage, he just assumes that any woman who married him must love him and that nothing could change that fact. Therefore, although the "bargain" has been brutally terminated for Winnie, Verloc has no conception of this and his main concern remains the maintenance of his domestic tranquility.
      Indeed, Verloc's thorough domesticity is prevalent throughout this scene. His response to what he considers to be Winnie's "sulking in that dreadful overcharged silence" (p. 213) is that she's "a master in that domestic art" (p. 213). Conrad describes Verloc as being "tired" and "resigned in a truly marital spirit" (p. 213) and even refers to his voice as a "domestic voice" (p. 212). Also, it is implicit that Verloc perceives his situation as being comparable to that of "peaceful men in domestic tiffs" (p. 212). His total domesticity leads him to draw simplistic, familiar conclusions and colors his reading of Winnie's response. Beyond that, however, his preoccupation with his domestic self-image is so strongly stressed here, that we have to assume that it has colored much of his activity in general and that it is very central to his personality structure. (Thus, it is a final irony that he should be murdered by his wife and with a domestic knife.)
      Verloc is so totally preoccupied with his own concerns and is so shallow and insensitive, that he doesn't begin to comprehend the horror of his action or the shattering effect it has had on Winnie. Verloc is portrayed as being emotionally flat in this scene. He undergoes no inner or outer turmoil and there's no sense of vitality about him. Here is a man who faces his wife after causing her brother to be blown to bits, and we get no sense of any intensity of feeling from him. He manifests no remorse--just regret that things didn't work out according to plan--and instead concentrates on self-justifications. His main sensation seems to be fatigue and we get a sense of his indolence as his lies sprawled across the couch. Conrad adds his usual ironic touch by having Verloc meet his death lying motionlessly: he dies, as he has lived, in a state of inertia.
      Winnie, on the other hand, is described as one "whose moral nature had been subjected to a shock of which, in the physical order, the most violent earthquake of history could only be a faint and languid rendering" (p. 210). That analogy describes the magnitude of her emotional upheaval, and lies in sharp contrast to Verloc's unfeeling and inert state. A dichotomy exists, however, between Winnie's internal turmoil and her quiet exterior. The two are fragmented and out of tune with each other. She doesn't scream or get hysterical. All the activity is internal. Outwardly she remains inscrutable and uncommunicative and she retains tight control on any show of emotion. We get a picture here of a woman who has a very intense emotional capacity, but who, characteristically, keeps her feelings locked tightly within her.
      For a short while, Winnie does attain a harmonious state. A change comes over her appearance as she moves toward Verloc with the carving knife in her hand. She takes on Stevie's facial expressions and Conrad writes that "the resemblance of her face with that of her brother grew at every step, even to the droop of the lower lip, even to the slight divergence of the eyes" (p. 215). This may reflect the strong hold that Stevie still has over his sister. But more significantly, I think, it unmasks the cold, dispassionate facade that Winnie has learned to present. As she commits the murder, Winnie becomes a total creature of passion and the fragmentation between her interior and exterior states disappears. She becomes like Stevie who has an instinctive emotional reaction to an injustice and who must move to correct it. For a few moments, her veil of restraint falls away.
      Conrad describes Winnie as being "capable of a bargain the mere suspicion of which would have been infinitely shocking to Mr. Verloc's idea of love" (p. 213). This description reflects the different expectations the Verlocs have from marriage and how little they know about each other. They live in their separate worlds, are guided by different and unspoken motivations, and seek to have their own needs fulfilled through their marriage. Neither seems concerned or even aware that the other has needs and priorities too. Each seems to view marriage through a tunnel vision--only aware of his or her own perspective.
      The Verlocs remain isolated from each other and unable to communicate until the very end. Even when the truth stares them in the face, the Verlocs remain oblivious to it. Winnie gives no sign of comprehension when Verloc tells her that she shares responsibility for what's happened. Verloc never shows the slightest understanding of Winnie or the reason for her violent response. Even when the knife is upon him, the only explanation this man can conjure up is that his wife has "gone raving mad" (p. 216). The Verloc marriage is enveloped in secrecy and misunderstandings. Using progressive strokes of irony, Conrad depicts the destructive nature and tragic consequences of a relationship based on hidden motives and cross-purposes.