The Library of America is providing a valuable service to all devotees of American literature by providing reliable texts of so many important American writers. Here, they have done an excellent job of presenting the three best novels of America's first professional novelist. However, Brown only wrote six novels altogether, and anyone who cares about "Wieland," "Edgar Huntly," and "Arthur Mervyn" will probably also want "Ormond" in the package, as well as the fragments "Memoirs of Stephen Calvert" and "Memoirs of Carwin, the Biloquist."

I was pleased to see that the editorial review of this (typically gorgeous) American Library Series entry stole my breath. Brockden Brown's fascinating and brutal gothic novels are the true foundation of what's dark about American literature. Perhaps even more irresponsible than Poe in his fascination with the grotesque (spontaneous combustion, anyone?), Brockden Brown long anticipates Poe and Freud (and Faulkner and Jackson and ...) in his bleak explorations of our most terrible fears, and our worst secrets. Without scenes like the axe murder in "Wieland," would we have King's (or Kubrick's) "The Shining"? Impossible. Let's hope that the ALS will add a Volume 2 to this one, including Brockden Brown's lesser known (and impossible to find) works like "Ormond."

Charles Brockden Brown is known as the "Father of the American novel" and is considered to be our first professional author. At least by those who do consider him at all. To be perfectly frank, I'd never really heard of the guy before now. But this excellent gothic tale, which was based on the true story of a farmer who thought that angels had commanded him to kill his own family, is so clearly the forerunner of the fiction of everyone from Hawthorne and Melville to Poe and Henry James to H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard right on up to Shirley Jackson and Stephen King, that it is hard to believe that his work is not better known nor taught more often.

Wieland, his first novel, tells the story of a religious fanatic who builds a temple in the seclusion of his own farm, but then is struck dead, apparently by spontaneous combustion. Several years later, his children, in turn, begin to hear voices around the family property, voices which alternately seem to be commanding good or evil and which at times imitate denizens of the farm. Are the voices somehow connected to a mysterious visitor who has begun hanging around? Are they commands from God? From demons? Suffice it to say things get pretty dicey before we find out the truth.

This is a terrific creepy story which obviously influenced the course of American fiction. Brown develops an interesting serious theme of the role that reason can play in combating superstition and religious mania, but keeps the action cranking and the mood deliciously gloomy. The language is certainly not modern but it is accessible and generally understandable. It's a novel that should be better known and more widely read, if not for historical reasons then just because it's great fun.

GRADE: A

Often ranked as "the first significant American novelist"-this is how Norman Grabo characterizes him in the Introduction to this volume-Charles Brockden Brown was an ambitious and inventive teller of tales, although an awkward literary craftsman. Brown was only in his twenties when he published this novel in 1799, but it was already his fourth book. Edgar Huntly, which takes place in rural Pennsylvania in 1787 recounts the strange adventures of a young man who sets out to discover the person responsible for killing his best friend, Waldegrave, who has recently died under mysterious circumstances. His investigations put him on the track of Clithero, an Irish servant employed in his uncle's household, but one thing leads to another and Edgar finds himself having to fight Indians and face the perils of the wilderness in order to make his way back home. Most of the story is told by Edgar himself in a long letter-some twenty-seven chapters long-that he is in the process of writing to his intended, Waldegrave's sister, Mary.
Edgar Huntly belongs to the genre of romance, the much older but somewhat less respectable sibling of the novel of social realism that had come into vogue in the eighteenth century. The romance frequently has an exotic setting, and features incidents that stretch the limits of artistic plausibility, where it does not take a plunge into fantasy, as it does in Matthew Gregory Lewis's The Monk or Charles Robert Maturin's Melmoth the Wanderer. Nevertheless, the genre enjoyed great popularity here down to the time of the Civil War, and Brown shows himself well acquainted with its conventions. He not only throws in a whole series of hair-raising encounters that pit the inexperienced Edgar with natural hazards, predatory wild animals, and marauding Delawares, but supplies a convoluted plot line that he further complicates with stories-within-the main story told by subordinate characters. Even for a romance, Edgar Huntly has an unusually tangled narrative web. It's hardly surprising the neophyte author himself sometimes has difficulty keeping track of the strands.
The reader making the acquaintance of Brown for the first time will not get any help from the note on the back cover supplied by Penguin, according to which "Edgar Huntly is the story of a young man who sleepwalks each night, a threat to himself and others, unable to control his baser passions....One of America's first Gothic novels...." I wonder whether the person responsible for these inane comments ever bothered to open the book. In the first place, Edgar Huntly is no Gothic novel. As E.F. Bleiler pointed out, it takes a castle to make a Gothic novel. But Brown explicitly distances himself from the suspicion of Gothicism in the remarkable address "To the Public" prefaced to the book, in which he prides himself on having found his materials in his native country and rejoices in not having fallen back on "Gothic castles and chimeras" in composing his work. But the statement about Edgar is not just inaccurate-it is blatantly incorrect. Edgar has at the most two sleepwalking episodes, one of which serves to initiate the most remarkable series of events in the novel, when he awakes to find himself mysteriously transported to a cave in the middle of the night. And nothing Edgar relates suggests he has a history of somnambulism in his past-nor that he is "unable to control his baser passions." In fact, the first sleepwalker to show up is the far more uncontrolled Clithero, who almost seems to have infected Edgar with his affliction.
Brown was clearly a pioneer of psychological analysis in the history of the novel. Like Edgar Allan Poe later, he probed the souls of his characters by plunging them into violent, imminently lethal situations. As a student of extreme states of the human psyche, he was not only a predecessor of Poe, but of Hawthorne and Melville as well. Yet Brown lacked the ability to apply his talent to the creation of highly individualized characters, one of the strengths of great nineteenth century novelists such as Charles Dickens, Gustave Flaubert, and Fyodor Dostoevsky. All of the characters in Edgar Huntly, the protagonist included, remain little more than phantoms inhabiting a largely crepuscular world throughout the course of the action. However, like other trailblazing figures in the early history of American fiction-James Fenimore Cooper is a perfect example-Brown had an estimable ability to create atmosphere. It is not intended as a sarcasm to say that the reader may feel he or she is turning into a sleepwalker while reading Edgar Huntly.

This book is truly one of the most interesting and purely entertaining books I've ever read. The creepy imagery of the sleepwalking man digging in the street and then the caves and indians will stick with me forever. What an amazingly creative man. An x-files-esque dreamer living in the 1790s.

First published in 1799, Charles Brockden Brown's novel, "Edgar Huntly" is an insane masterpiece. I love Brown. I read this novel for the first time a few years ago, and thought it was about time to refresh my memory. Set outside of Philadelphia in the final years of the 1780's, "Edgar Huntly," like other of Brown's works, test the new American republic's capacity to govern while balancing the needs and desires of its culturally disparate inhabitants.

The novel is purportedly a correspondence from the protagonist, Edgar Huntly, to his friend/love interest, Mary Waldegrave, in the aftermath of her brother's death. Edgar is an educated, refined, enlightened young man, disconsolate upon the death of his friend. An avid walker, Edgar frequently leaves the environs of his hometown, Solebury, returning to the scene of his friend's death, a large elm tree. Near this tree late one evening, he spots a man, conspicuously lurking, burying something beneath the tree. Suspecting this man, Clithero, of Waldegrave's murder, Edgar begins a career of surveillance and tracking, following Clithero to his residence and through the uncharted wildernesses that border his hometown. What follows is Edgar's progress in discovering the truths behind the death of Waldegrave, the history of Clithero, and the foundations of his own self-control and rationality.

Brown deals with a number of issues throughout the novel current to late 18th century America, including the dispossession of Native Americans from their land, Irish immigration, and the instability of a newly formed nation. Philosophically, Brown examines popular 18th century debates over the limits of sympathy, and the ability of sense, experiment, and observation to conclusively explain human nature. In his preface to the novel, Brown says that his novel will not exploit the then-common motifs of gothic fiction. Perhaps, but Brown, taking the example of William Godwin, moves the castles, dungeons, and murders of traditional gothic into the psyches of his characters. Dementia, paranoia, and in this novel, at least, the uncontrollability of sleep-walking, constitute the largely internal threats to personal and national safety.

So join Edgar, Clithero, Sarsefield, the Lorimers, Inglefield, Queen Mab, and an army of hostile natives, on an intricate, often horrifying romp through late 18th century America. Brown's doubts and fears about living in the new nation will entrance and mortify you, and possibly make you consider putting yourself in restraints before you go to bed at night.