Interview with a Philosophy Student, Dylan Byron

Dylan Byron is a senior at Hunter High School on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, and will matriculate as an undergraduate at Princeton University in the fall. He lives in New York.

Do you think Ichabod and Brom are supposed to represent the battle between good and evil?

I don't see anything so epic as a conflict between good and evil in “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” which is basically a very literate example of the Gothic short story that was so popular in nineteenth-century American literature.

Ichabod and Brom are both mildly ridiculous characters. Ichabod is an amalgam of amusingly paradoxical qualities: a prim schoolmaster delighted by plump country girls, a learned man utterly in thrall to twittering Dutch matrons and rural superstitions, lean and frugal but consumed by thoughts of cakes, roasts, and the harvest. Irving does an excellent job of accenting Ichabod's physical absurdities, likening, exempli gratia, his dancing to “clattering.” Ichabod is much too ridiculous to play the hero, even a tragic one.

Brom, on the other hand, is really of a kind with the bashful farmer boys, only Brom is physically imposing and cocksure. I imagine him as a kind of town jock, tormenting Ichabod as he does. He's imposing, to be sure, but it's difficult to take him seriously. When one thinks of evil in literature, one thinks of characters like Milton's Satan – proud and wicked (although Milton's Satan is very purposively made a sympathetic character), but profoundly so, and oftentimes fiendishly clever. Brom isn't really wicked, not in a profound way. He certainly isn't intelligent. He's an overgrown child, really. Brom is a gadfly and a bully, but ultimately lacks the gravitas necessary for a convincing portrayal of evil, which is, after all, a potent force.

Were you surprised by the ending?

No, not particularly. The ending very nicely illustrates the tension between fact and fiction that is present throughout the story. On the one hand, it's very reasonable to conclude that Brom is responsible for the assault on Ichabod. Irving lays the groundwork for this line of thinking earlier on: Brom is a skilled rider, with a powerful, black steed, and he's the only one to claim firsthand knowledge of the Hessian. None of the Horseman's other victims are among the living. Of course, the story also closes with some very strong hints to this effect, namely that Brom heartily chuckles at the mention of Ichabod's demise.

On the other hand, we can't be entirely sure. Truth is sometimes talked about as if it's whatever we can agree on, and the villagers are full of doubt, fear, suspicion. Certainly they're in no way willing to ignore the possibility of the Horseman's involvement. There's nothing, as far as the internal evidence goes, to rule out the intervention of the Horseman. Really, we just don't know. In fact, we're not even sure what happens to Ichabod. He may be dead; he may be a successful New York jurist.

What conclusions do you think Washington Irving intended you to make at the end of the story?

That is, do I think he favored one of the two possible deductions in particular? Well, speculating about an author's intention is a tricky business. I can't say with any certainty, but my best guess would be that Irving relished the dark uncertainty of his ending as it stands. It was certainly within his power to offer a single, clear answer, but that's not what he chose to do, is it? That's what makes the story Gothic, really. If it were perfectly explainable in terms of human action, it would just be a diverting bucolic tale. If it explicitly embraced the supernatural, confirming outright the presence of actual ghosts and devils or what have you as characters, then it would be a ghost story.

Dutch settlers always told stories of ghosts and witchcraft. Do you believe that it is possible for some of their tales to be true?

No, no, absolutely not. I don't believe in any supernatural entities, be they ghosts, tooth fairies, or Platonic forms. Of course, I have to remain open to the (extremely slight) possibility that someone will come forward, maybe in a few decades, with evidence that's compelling enough to make me re-evaluate my position. That's how science works. Newton, you know, had his doubters. But do I think it's going to happen? No. I find the supernatural quite preposterous, a relic of an age when man needed inventive, anthropomorphizing fictions to explain away death, illness, etc. – all very frightening things, and especially so in a pre-scientific society. When one puts a bit of effort into thinking about how the world really works, such fantasies dissolve.

How significant do you think it is that the story is about Dutch immigrants?

Interesting question. Certainly Ichabod is convinced that the comfortable abundance displayed by the Van Tassel family is uniquely Dutch. There is something very typically Dutch – at least in the stereotypical way that we think of the Dutch in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries – about the focus on material comfort. Holland was essentially a commercial republic, and I think something of this rubs off on Dutch art, or art that attempts to capture something essentially Dutch. On analogy, think of the visual arts. Seventeenth-century Dutch genre painting is filled with paintings that highlight the delicious fruits and spices brought to Holland by Dutch traders. Would Poussin have ever taken great heaps of oranges and opulent silverworks as the theme of a painting? Certainly not!

How do you feel about Katrina? Do you think it was cruel of her to lead Ichabod on when, really, he didn't have a chance?

Well, there are two ways I could answer that question. Considered strictly as a literary character, she's convincingly if briefly developed, and is integral to the plot – which, by the way, I quite like, and is still read because it is in fact rather entertaining. She's morally rather slight, but you can't have her without that quality; she's billed as a coquette, it's essential for her role. So in that sense, I like her. But would I have her over for dinner? No.

What do you like most in the story?

I'm partial to the descriptions of pastoral abundance, especially that of the Van Tassel farm. Irving's English is very good. He has a diverse vocabulary, but wields his words very carefully, producing very exact, frequently vivid description. His strong, omniscient narrator is convincing. He reminds me a bit of Henry James. But then there are very rustic, American touches. These ground the story, which is, after all, about simple people. Henry James would never say, for example, “slap jacks” or “higgledy-piggledy.”

Can you relate to any of the characters?

I think I have a certain amount of sympathy for Ichabod. He's a splendid caricature of a desiccated nineteenth-century schoolmaster. But do I think I'm very much like him? Hopefully not in any serious way.

Thank you for your time and effort, it has been most helpful.

You're very welcome. It was my pleasure.