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A review by lukescalone
Wieland: Or, the Transformation: An American Tale and Other Stories by Charles Brockden Brown
2.0
This is a hard book to review--I didn't like it much but was determined to finish it. It functions almost as a "transitional" piece in English-language literature, and is one of the first good examples of an American epistolary novel. The neo-classical heritage of the book is clear and, in some ways, the writing style reminds me a little bit of [b:The Sorrows of Young Werther|16640|The Sorrows of Young Werther|Johann Wolfgang von Goethe|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386920896l/16640._SY75_.jpg|746264]. I think Brown recognizes this, and he very much looks to Germany for inspiration. At the same time, it's almost a precursor for the Gothic Romantic novel and functions on some level as a case of psychological horror.
I don't really know what to make of the message or of the characters. It took me until about a quarter of the way through to be able to focus well, and it took me way too long to realize that the narrator was a woman named Clara. Brown is scathing towards religious fanaticism here, and that's really emblematic of the Neo-Classical nature of the book, but Carwin's character is much more ambiguous. He's a villain until the very end of the novel, but this also isn't treated as a story of his redemption. Pleyel seems to be little more than a dramatic device without any real impact on the direction of the story.
Ultimately, the story isn't particularly character-driven. It's almost like they're on rails, simply playing the roles given to them without actually guiding the story. This is a shame, because the best (later) psychological horror is essentially character-driven. Nevertheless, I am glad that I took the time to read this, but I likely won't ever come back to it again.
I don't really know what to make of the message or of the characters. It took me until about a quarter of the way through to be able to focus well, and it took me way too long to realize that the narrator was a woman named Clara. Brown is scathing towards religious fanaticism here, and that's really emblematic of the Neo-Classical nature of the book, but Carwin's character is much more ambiguous. He's a villain until the very end of the novel, but this also isn't treated as a story of his redemption. Pleyel seems to be little more than a dramatic device without any real impact on the direction of the story.
Ultimately, the story isn't particularly character-driven. It's almost like they're on rails, simply playing the roles given to them without actually guiding the story. This is a shame, because the best (later) psychological horror is essentially character-driven. Nevertheless, I am glad that I took the time to read this, but I likely won't ever come back to it again.