Rappaccini's Daughter

“It was strangely frightful to the young man’s imagination, to see this air of insecurity in a person cultivating a garden, that most simple and innocent of human toils, and which had been alike the joy and labor of the unfallen parents of the race. Was this garden, then, the Eden of the present world?—and this man, with such a perception of harm in what his own hands caused to grow, was he the Adam?”

This paragraph uses irony to set the stage for the plot’s development. The narrator uses the phrase “most simple and innocent” to refer to gardening through Giovanni’s eyes, knowing that Rappaccini’s garden is anything but simple and innocent. Here the author alludes to Adam and Eve, drawing a parallel between Rappaccini and Adam. By this logic, then, Beatrice is Eve. Such a reading is strengthened by the fact that Beatrice is created from Rappaccini, the way Eve was—from Adam’s rib. Such parallels to the biblical story would also suggest a potential incestuous relationship between the doctor and his daughter. Additionally, in this scenario, Giovanni plays the part of the serpent, feeding Beatrice a terrible substance.

“She looked redundant with life, health, and energy; all of which attributes were bound down and compressed, as it were, and girdled tensely, in their luxuriance, by her virgin zone. Yet Giovanni's fancy must have grown morbid, while he looked down into the garden; for the impression which the fair stranger made upon him was as if here were another flower, the human sister of those vegetable ones, as beautiful as they—more beautiful than the richest of them—but still to be touched only with a glove, nor to be approached without a mask.”

This passage is Giovani’s first glimpse of Beatrice. From the beginning the young man dehumanizes her, seeing her as another flower rather than a human being. This type of thinking allows him to treat her with suspicion and distrust. This highly subjective and negative view of Beatrice could be prompted by her vibrant, but suppressed sexuality, which threatens Giovanni’s masculinity and self-control.

“His patients are interesting to him only as subjects for some new experiment. He would sacrifice human life, his own among the rest, or whatever else was dearest to him, for the sake of adding so much as a grain of mustard-seed to the great heap of his accumulated knowledge.”

This rare glimpse into Rappaccini’s work and character is presented by Baglioni, his rival. There is no other source of information as to the doctor’s motivations, so it remains unclear if Baglioni’s opinion is in any way accurate. As someone who holds an academic position that does not seem to involve actual practice, the professor’s objections to experimentation and innovation seem suspect. The text makes no mention of his work, so his misgivings seem born from fear of change and loss of prestige rather than ethical concerns.

‘“Give me thy breath, my sister,’ exclaimed Beatrice; ‘for I am faint with common air! And give me this flower of thine, which I separate with gentlest fingers from the stem, and place it close beside my heart.’”

This excerpt shows Beatrice embracing her unusual nature and treating the plants as if they are her relatives. It is possible her behavior is motivated by the need to socialize and converse with someone, as she is confined to the house and garden and does not seem to have any other companions. Additionally, Beatrice might also be acknowledging that she is as much a product of her father’s experiments as the plants surrounding her.

“Guasconti had not a deep heart—or at all events, its depths were not sounded now—but he had a quick fancy, and an ardent southern temperament, which rose every instant to a higher fever-pitch.”

One of the more unusual elements of the story is Giovanni’s character. Unlike typical Gothic heroes, he is not noble and brave. The narrator clarifies that the young man is not a hero because he is too weak to be a nonconformist. This character is in line with Hawthorne’s other works, such as The Scarlet Letter (1850), but goes against the typical Romantic and Gothic expectations for a protagonist.

“It was not love, although her rich beauty was a madness to him; nor horror, even while he fancied her spirit to be imbued with the same baneful essence that seemed to pervade her physical frame; but a wild offspring of both love and horror that had each parent in it, and burned like one and shivered like the other.”

The narrator underlines that Giovanni’s feelings are not true love. They arise from a mix of fascination and repulsion, two emotions connected to the physical rather than the spiritual. He seems unable to look beyond Beatrice’s outer appearance and the strange powers of her personality.

“‘This must not be,’ said Baglioni to himself. ‘The youth is the son of my old friend, and shall not come to any harm from which the arcana of medical science can preserve him. Besides, it is too insufferable an impertinence in Rappaccini thus to snatch the lad out of my own hands, as I may say, and make use of him for his infernal experiments. This daughter of his! It shall be looked to. Perchance, most learned Rappaccini, I may foil you where you little dream of it!’”

This passage is a rare glimpse into Baglioni’s mind. While he seems concerned for the young man, he is just as interested in getting the upper hand over his professional rival. Moreover, Baglioni sees both young people as possessions without free will. According to him, Giovanni can be “snatched,” as if the young man is incapable of making his own decisions. He also refers to Beatrice as “this daughter,” as if an object rather than a person. It is unsurprising that Baglioni is willing to risk their lives to prove his intelligence and cunning.

“The aspect of one and all of them dissatisfied him; their gorgeousness seemed fierce, passionate, and even unnatural. There was hardly an individual shrub which a wanderer, straying by himself through a forest, would not have been startled to find growing wild, as if an unearthly face had glared at him out of the thicket. Several, also, would have shocked a delicate instinct by an appearance of artificialness, indicating that there had been such commixture, and, as it were, adultery of various vegetable species, that the production was no longer of God's making, but the monstrous offspring of man’s depraved fancy, glowing with only an evil mockery of beauty.”

This paragraph describes the garden in more detail. It becomes clear that Rappaccini is experimenting with cross-pollination and other horticultural techniques. On the surface, the description presents the garden as repulsive, the consequence of an artificial process rather than an example of authentic nature. It is unclear, however, whether this excerpt is narrated from the author’s or the protagonist’s point of view. The passage begins with the word “seemed,” which suggests subjective perception rather than factual observation. While Giovanni finds the garden unnatural and monstrous, this response reflects his limited understanding and fear of the unknown.

“‘I do so bid you, Signor!’ she replied. ‘Forget whatever you may have fancied in regard to me. If true to the outward senses, still it may be false in its essence. But the words of Beatrice Rappaccini’s lips are true from the heart outward. Those you may believe!’”

These words, uttered by Beatrice, contain some of the story’s moral. Giovanni is attached to the physical and attempts to understand the world only through his sense. Beatrice gives him a hint that human perception is limited and fallible and that shape and content do not always match. She is also talking about herself. Both her beauty and her deadliness are but an outer layer that does not define her inner spirituality. Giovanni is unable to take her at her word and keeps doubting and fearing her, leading to his deadly attempt at redemption.

“She was human: her nature was endowed with all gentle and feminine qualities; she was worthiest to be worshipped; she was capable, surely, on her part, of the height and heroism of love. Those tokens, which he had hitherto considered as proofs of a frightful peculiarity in her physical and moral system, were now either forgotten, or, by the subtle sophistry of passion, transmuted into a golden crown of enchantment, rendering Beatrice the more admirable, by so much as she was the more unique

This is the point where Giovani’s desire overshadows his misgivings and fears. As long as he does not feel threatened by Beatrice’s abilities, he is willing to embrace her strangeness and see it as attractive. His acceptance is conditional, however. The young woman is “human” as long as she conforms to his ideas of femininity. Once the protagonist realizes he is unable to control her, however, he again begins questioning her status as a fully-fledged human being, calling her a “thing.”

“But, with her actual presence, there came influences which had too real an existence to be at once shaken off; recollections of the delicate and benign power of her feminine nature, which had so often enveloped him in a religious calm; recollections of many a holy and passionate outgush of her heart, when the pure fountain had been unsealed from its depths, and made visible in its transparency to his mental eye; recollections which, had Giovanni known how to estimate them, would have assured him that all this ugly mystery was but an earthly illusion, and that, whatever mist of evil might seem to have gathered over her, the real Beatrice was a heavenly angel.”

This passage, in the narrator’s omniscient voice, condemns Giovanni’s lack of faith, suggesting that his inability to see beyond the physical reflects his sinful nature. The young man cannot recognize Beatrice’s pure soul; similarly, he must be unable to truly believe in the divine. This problem encapsulates the contrast between faith and knowledge, as well as between truth and perception. Giovanni’s understanding is limited, and his inability to transcend his mortal, physical nature condemns him to a shallow passion.

“Besides, thought Giovanni, might there not still be a hope of his returning within the limits of ordinary nature, and leading Beatrice—the redeemed Beatrice—by the hand? Oh, weak, and selfish, and unworthy spirit, that could dream of an earthly union and earthly happiness as possible, after such deep love had been so bitterly wronged as was Beatrice's love by Giovanni's blighting words!”

The fact that Giovanni thinks of Beatrice as needing redemption demonstrates how shallow and self-centered he is. Morally, she is superior to him. Her only crime is being her father’s victim and not conforming to social expectations. Giovanni, whose earlier words reveal his cowardly and coarse nature, is no one’s savior. His idea of redemption is also compromised. He is not worried about Beatrice’s soul but about her social status. Consequently, his attempt to “redeem” her ends in her death. At the end, his moral failures become symbolically embodied in his newly acquired poisonous nature.

“‘My daughter,’ said Rappaccini, ‘thou art no longer lonely in the world! Pluck one of those precious gems from thy sister shrub, and bid thy bridegroom wear it in his bosom. It will not harm him now! My science, and the sympathy between thee and him, have so wrought within his system, that he now stands apart from common men, as thou dost, daughter of my pride and triumph, from ordinary women. Pass on, then, through the world, most dear to one another, and dreadful to all besides!’”

This is the only instance in the story where Rappaccini speaks in his own voice. Like Giovanni, he dehumanizes Beatrice, equating her to the plants he cultivates. Furthermore, despite any potential concern for her wellbeing that might have motivated his experiments, Rappaccini’s choice of such words as “pride,” “triumph,” and “dreadful” indicate that he sees her as an extension of his ambition rather than a human being with independent desires.