Descriptive Essay Examples from Melville to Lincoln

Melville's Spouter Inn

Some of the best descriptive essay examples can be found among the writings of the greatest authors. Consider a chapter in Moby-Dick by Herman Melville: every chapter of that book is like a mini descriptive essay. Look at the way Melville uses description to create atmospheric effect in the first line of Chapter 3: "The Spouter Inn" from Moby-Dick: "Entering that gable-ended Spouter-Inn, you found yourself in a wide, low, straggling entry with old-fashioned wainscots, reminding one of the bulwarks of some condemned old craft." Melville uses words like "condemned" to convey a sense of foreboding and doom, and the adjectives "wide, low, straggling" produce a claustrophobic effect on the reader — one that pulls him in with force.

Melville also uses consonance, assonance, and alliteration to make the words flow more enjoyably and give the description a kind of musical quality. Go to any chapter in Moby-Dick and you will find a master novelist using this format at virtually every turn, which makes the book a perfect example of descriptive writing done well.

From Oates to Kingston

Nordquist (2017) provides numerous descriptive essay examples from a variety of authors, ranging from Joyce Carol Oates to Maxine Hong Kingston. These examples are worth a look and can help you visualize the possibilities that are open to you, whether you seek to describe a person, place, thing, or experience. Read these examples and consider which approach would best be suited for your subject.

Hawthorne's Description of Abraham Lincoln

What are some other good descriptive essay examples? Consider Nathaniel Hawthorne's essay on shaking hands with President Lincoln during the Civil War. Hawthorne supported the Northern cause but confessed to not understanding what the war was about, and even wrote: "It would be too great an absurdity to spend all our Northern strength, for the next generation, in holding on to a people who insist on being let loose." In order to better understand the situation, Hawthorne traveled south to do what any good writer should do — see with his own eyes. Hawthorne and his publisher headed to Washington prior to the Second Battle of Bull Run to get a look at the war up close. While there, a delegation had arrived to present the president with a gift, and Hawthorne was invited to join them in the presentation and meet Lincoln at the White House. It was just the sort of opportunity Hawthorne had been looking for. He arrived at the pre-arranged time and waited with the others for Lincoln to come, shake hands, and accept his gift.

Hawthorne's description of Lincoln was so vivid and unabashed that The Atlantic Monthly refused to publish it. Instead, the passage was edited out, and the rest of Hawthorne's account of his visit to the Capitol was printed for readers. The missing section was filled in by the editors, who stated:

We are compelled to omit two or three pages, in which the author describes the interview, and gives his idea of the personal appearance and deportment of the President. The sketch appears to have been written in a benign spirit, and perhaps conveys a not inaccurate impression of its august subject; but it lacks reverence, and it pains us to see a gentleman of ripe age, and who has spent years under the corrective influence of foreign institutions, falling into the characteristic and most ominous fault of Young America (Atlantic editors, 1862).

Hawthorne was, of course, upset — and he grumbled, "What a terrible thing it is to try and let off a little bit of truth into this miserable humbug of a world!" (Carlson, 2011). The truth Hawthorne had meant to establish was simply a description of his Commander-in-Chief: the way Lincoln walked, talked, looked, and expressed himself through his eyes. It was an honest and accurate description — neither flattering nor derisive, but true — complete with both the president's shortcomings and his more admirable traits, such as his ability to show wisdom and affection in a wrinkle of his face. The publication said it lacked "reverence" and was therefore unfit for public consumption. But for readers today, it only makes us want to read what Hawthorne wrote all the more.

So what was his description of Lincoln? Carlson (2011) fills us in with a glimpse at the missing sections. Here is how Nathaniel Hawthorne described President Lincoln — whom he called "Uncle Abe" — upon seeing him up close for the first time:

He was dressed in a rusty black frock-coat and pantaloons, unbrushed, and worn so faithfully that the suit had adapted itself to the curves and angularities of his figure. He had shabby slippers on his feet. His hair was black, still unmixed with gray, stiff, somewhat bushy, and had apparently been acquainted with neither brush nor comb that morning, after the disarrangement of the pillow; and as to a nightcap, Uncle Abe probably knows nothing of such effeminacies…. The whole physiognomy is as coarse a one as you would meet anywhere in the length and breadth of the States; but, withal, it is redeemed, illuminated, softened, and brightened, by a kindly though serious look out of his eyes, and an expression of homely sagacity, that seems weighted with rich results of village experience.

Here was an authentic vision of the president: an astute description of a man unlike others in appearance in nearly every way — tall, lanky, awkward, yet not without wisdom and sense. Let us look at some of the ways in which Hawthorne paints Lincoln so effectively that it frightened The Atlantic into editing it out.

Lincoln's attire is described first — which makes sense. After all, the way a man presents himself to the world is most evident in the manner in which he clothes himself. A vagrant is easily distinguishable from a gentleman by his garments. So it is with the president: the august dignitary whom Hawthorne no doubt expected to see in finer dress and with more consideration for his appearance. Hawthorne's first descriptive word is "rusty" — a word that carries both denotative and connotative meaning. Denotatively, rusty refers to something old, brittle, corroded, and exposed too long to the elements. Connotatively, it conveys carelessness, neglect, and disregard. To say that Lincoln's black frock-coat is rusty is to suggest that the president's appearance is not in top form, to say the least.

Hawthorne moves on to Lincoln's pants, calling them "unbrushed" — meaning wrinkled and unkempt. The president has taken no care to tend to his accoutrements but has rather felt comfortable wearing the same pair of pants day in and day out without concern for their condition. Instead of simply stating that Lincoln's suit was worn out, Hawthorne writes that it was "worn so faithfully that the suit had adapted itself to the curves and angularities of his figure." Hawthorne's eyes then travel to Lincoln's feet, where he finds the president wearing not shoes but "shabby slippers." The portrait thus far is of a man seemingly unaware of the dignity of his office, his person, and his general appearance. For a publication seeking to support the president in all his aims, it is perhaps no wonder that The Atlantic chose to edit out this description.

Hawthorne then directs his gaze upward to Lincoln's hair — "black, still unmixed with gray" — indicating that the signs of wisdom and old age had not yet appeared. He comments on the hair's appearance through personification, giving the reader the impression that the hair was like a person with acquaintances — and that, unfortunately, it had not met Mr. Brush or Mr. Comb that morning "after the disarrangement of the pillow." This humorous aside suggests that the president had entered the room to greet his visitors with "bed head," as though he had just rolled out of bed. Hawthorne does not tell us this directly but rather shows us through imagery and literary devices.

Having identified a number of negative aspects of the president's appearance, Hawthorne moves on to something more flattering: he notes the "illuminated, softened, and brightened" quality of Lincoln's "kindly" but "serious" eyes. Hawthorne describes it as "an expression of homely sagacity, that seems weighted with rich results of village experience." The compliment is somewhat backhanded: "homely sagacity" means unattractive wisdom — as though the depth of Lincoln's knowledge and understanding is not reflected well in a face that remains far from appealing in many ways. Hawthorne continues the backhanded compliment by qualifying Lincoln's wisdom as being formed by the "rich results of village experience" — meaning that Lincoln is, at bottom, a country bumpkin, exactly as his clothes and manners suggest.

Yet, in spite of these details, Hawthorne retains some respect for the man — if only because he is able to look deeply into Lincoln's eyes and see something of the soul within. Hawthorne does not go on to describe that soul — their meeting was too brief — but his description of Lincoln's outward appearance certainly has the ring of truth. For a writer of a descriptive essay, this ring of truth is all that really matters: so long as the details are accurate and the humorous asides are offered without too snarky a spirit, the writer will keep the essay within the bounds of propriety.

Conclusion

These examples of descriptive essays should help you see all the different ways you can approach your own. Every writer has a perspective, so don't be afraid to let yours show. The descriptive essay is exactly the type of writing that encourages you to reveal your perspective — in fact, that is the whole point. Notice in the essay about the tree house how it is written in the second person, putting you the reader in the place of a young child who believes in magic and adventure, never once questioning the unreality of these ideas. That is how your descriptive essay should be: put the reader into a place, a room, the company of a person — someone you have met before — and give the reader the impressions he or she is supposed to have.

References

Atlantic editors. (1862). Chiefly about war matters. The Atlantic. Retrieved from https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1862/07/chiefly-about-war-matters/306159/

Carlson, P. (2011). Nathaniel Hawthorne disses Abe Lincoln. American History, 46(4): 16.