Passages from the French and Italian Notebooks, Volume 2

In Short

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s European travel journal captures his final months abroad across Italy, France, Switzerland, and his eventual return home to a nation at war. As he explores famous churches, private studios, and mountain paths, he records his sharp observations on art, architecture, and local customs. The record shifts between aesthetic appreciation, physical fatigue, and deep personal reflection. It has endured as an intimate, unvarnished portrait of an iconic American author confronting European antiquity while searching for his own creative direction, offering a clear window into his creative process during the composition of The Marble Faun.

The Story

The narrative opens in Florence, where Hawthorne spends his days navigating the endless corridors of the Uffizi and Pitti galleries. He regularly records his reactions to Renaissance masterpieces, balancing genuine moments of religious and artistic awe against a growing sense of exhaustion with time-worn canvases and cold marble. Between museum visits, he explores local landmarks like the Church of San Lorenzo and the Ponte Vecchio, while also observing public festivities such as the Feast of Saint John, which he finds surprisingly lacking in true festive spirit.

His routine in Italy includes visits with American sculptors like Hiram Powers, who subjects classical works to rigorous technical criticism, and eccentric expatriates such as Mr. Kirkup, an old man living in a romanticized, ghost-haunted palace with a young child. Hawthorne also takes time away from active sightseeing to sketch out his own new fiction, finding that the heavy labor of literary composition diminishes his energy for daily journaling.

As autumn approaches, the family leaves Florence, traveling through ancient towns such as Radicofani, Bolsena, and Siena. Hawthorne registers deep disgust at the dirt, poverty, and fleas of the Italian countryside, yet remains captivated by the layerings of Etruscan and Roman history built into the rugged stone houses. Upon arriving in Rome, he reconnects with old friends, including former U.S. President Franklin Pierce, whose aging appearance and political career he contemplates with quiet empathy.

Leaving Italy behind, Hawthorne sails along the coast of France to Marseilles, experiencing both the wild beauty of rocky Mediterranean islands and the anxiety of passing through foreign customs with heavy luggage. The journey continues through the Rhône valley and into Switzerland. In places like Avignon, Valence, and Geneva, he compares the towering heights of French cathedrals with Italian architecture and marvels at the majestic snow-capped peaks surrounding Lake Leman.

Eventually, the record shifts to London, where the busy pace of social life unexpectedly revives his failing health and spirits despite his natural desire for quiet. The journal concludes back in New England during the summer of 1862. Visiting Maine amidst the opening stages of the American Civil War, Hawthorne observes a nation transformed by military enlistments, reflecting on the solemn spirit of the volunteers and the inescapable pull of history unfolding at home.

How It Unfolds

The galleries of Florence Hawthorne spends long hours wandering through the Uffizi and Pitti palaces, examining endless rows of Renaissance paintings while searching for genuine emotional connections to the art.

Conversations in the studio Visiting the sculptor Hiram Powers, Hawthorne listens to detailed critiques of classic statues like the Venus de' Medici, contrasting technical rules with the magical illusion of beauty.

Excursions through Italian towns Traveling through Siena, Radicofani, and Bolsena, the author encounters ancient Etruscan ruins and fortress-like villages, noting the sharp contrast between glorious history and modern discomfort.

Reunions in Rome In the Eternal City, Hawthorne visits holy shrines and walks through historic streets alongside former President Franklin Pierce, reflecting on friendship, political ambition, and the passage of time.

Voyage across the Mediterranean Sailing toward Marseilles past dramatic sea crags, Hawthorne observes fellow passengers, including an English nobleman translating Tasso, before continuing by rail into France.

Among the Swiss lakes and alps Riding steamers across Lake Leman, he marvels at the cloud-wrapped peaks and clear blue waters, contemplating how natural splendor far exceeds human effort.

A nation in arms Back in America, Hawthorne travels through Maine during the Civil War, recording the sights of young volunteers, military bounties, and a country undergoing a painful transformation.

The People

Nathaniel Hawthorne The author and narrator wants quiet, inspiration, and meaningful encounters with beauty, but he is constantly thwarted by physical weariness, hot weather, and the sheer volume of sights. He ends up recognizing that continuous novelty can numb the senses, leaving him eager to process his thoughts through fiction.

Hiram Powers An American sculptor living in Florence who approaches art with analytical precision. He wants to demonstrate the flaws of antique masterpieces, relying on his practical eye to pull apart classic statues. He remains firmly confident in his own realistic standards over traditional artistic reveries.

Mr. Kirkup An aged, frail antiquarian who lives in an old Florentine palace near the Arno. He seeks communion with the spirit world through a pale young girl and a Persian kitten, bound to his dark surroundings by an old man's reluctance to change.

Franklin Pierce The former United States President and close personal friend of Hawthorne. He seeks rest after his term in office while contemplating whether to run again. He appears worn by care and personal tragedy, though his warmth toward old friends remains intact.

Lord J------ An English nobleman met aboard a ship bound for France. He seeks solace from his wife's illness by translating Tasso's poetry, bringing a simple, earnest dedication to a project that gradually absorbs his full devotion.

In Its Own Voice

"Occasionally to-day I was sensible of a certain degree of emotion in looking at an old picture; as, for example, by a large, dark, ugly picture of Christ bearing the cross and sinking beneath it..."

Hawthorne reflects on his muted emotional response while walking through the Uffizi gallery in Florence.

"When the material embodiment presents itself outermost, and we perceive them only by the grosser sense, missing their ethereal spirit, there is nothing so heavily burdensome as masterpieces of painting and sculpture."

The author describes the profound fatigue that sets in after months of endless sightseeing among famous works of art.

"Everywhere some insignia of soldiership were to be seen,--bright buttons, a red stripe down the trousers, a military cap, and sometimes a round-shouldered bumpkin in the entire uniform."

Hawthorne notes the pervasive presence of newly enlisted troops while traveling through Maine during the American Civil War.

What It's Really About

Beneath its everyday travel itinerary, the journal explores the complex relationship between an American observer and the overwhelming weight of European history. Hawthorne continually questions whether classic art and ancient ruins possess a genuine spiritual life or if their value is merely sustained by tradition. He examines how physical discomfort, crowded sight-seeing, and mental fatigue can blind a person to true beauty, showing how easily masterpieces turn into mere burdens when the viewer loses emotional connection. Additionally, the final entries contrast the dusty tranquility of Europe's past with the urgent, violent realities of a young America torn apart by civil war, probing how individual lives are shaped by national destiny.

Why Read It Today

This volume appeals to readers who enjoy honest, unvarnished travel writing and candid glimpses into the mind of a major classic author. Rather than offering a polished guidebook, Hawthorne presents an authentic account of travel filled with quiet awe, sharp irritation, and humorous domestic details. The writing feels remarkably immediate, capturing the awkwardness of foreign customs, the exhaustion of museum-going, and the vivid landscapes of 19th-century Europe.

Readers must navigate the era's unedited attitudes, including occasional blunt judgments about rural poverty and foreign populations that reflect mid-nineteenth-century prejudices. The prose moves at a relaxed, unhurried pace, characteristic of personal diaries not originally intended for immediate publication. What lingers long after reading is Hawthorne's remarkable clarity—his willingness to admit when a world-famous statue leaves him cold, and his steady, compassionate eye for human character, whether observing a fellow author, an old political ally, or young soldiers marching off to war.