Yes, I love the Scarlet Letter. Or rather, I like to write about it. Below, find two essays written about the Scarlet Letter, one a few months ago, and one earlier this week...
This one was written 10/16/07. I loved it when it was written. Now I am not quite as thrilled about it, but I still like it...
The Scarlet Letter
With a combination of realism, symbolism, and allegory, “The Scarlet Letter” examines the fragile nature of the human spirit. Through examinations of conscience and character, Hawthorne presents the human nature with all of its flaws and strengths. He shows hate and love, acceptance and rejection, just by describing the scenery. Universal truths - crime and punishment - are revealed through simple actions and objects. Some small points can take pages of description. Some of the most complex are revealed with a few short lines. It sheds light on how the seemingly innocent and harmless actions can lead to great mishap or great enlightenment.
The setting of “The Scarlet Letter” is in the American colonies, in a fiercely strict Puritan society. This immediately marks Hester as an outsider. She is an independent woman, with a powerful bearing, rather than the more bitter yet insignificant presence of the other women of the town. Then, with the scarlet letter, she is marked as an adulterer. This changes her from a strange woman to one who is regarded with shock and horror. Her bastard child is another brand proclaiming her sin. This rejection from society is hard on Hester, even with her inner strength. To have the scarlet letter would have been bad enough, reminding her daily of her sin. When she is excluded from society, she has nothing at all to distract her from her constant shame. Her only companion is her daughter, Pearl, who adds to Hester’s shame with her constant attention to the letter.
Pearl is the symbol of Hester’s crime and punishment. Born of a sinful union, she is a wild elf-child. Some even consider her a demon in human guise. She treats the scarlet letter with reverence, always decorating it or touching it, never letting it pass out of Hester’s mind. Pearl frolics during her mother’s sadness, yet sometimes will show the most remarkable tenderness. Then she will scamper away, playing once more the naughty, tormenting imp. She seems to see right into her mother’s soul. Yet she is all innocence when she asks why her mother wears the scarlet letter and whether she has signed a pact with the Black Man. Hester avoids her questions, trying to hide her sins, but Pearl is constantly insistent, as if she can read her mother’s thoughts and is trying to draw them forth in words.
Hester’s strength is the contrast to her lover’s weakness. Arthur Dimmesdale is a pale, fragile man with a nervous nature. Hester carries herself proudly, wearing the scarlet letter on her breast but never touching it or drawing attention to it through motion. Others see it because it is in the open, proclaiming her sin. But she pretends not to notice it. Arthur wears his own sin in private, hidden beneath his clothing and unspoken. But he constantly touches it, drawing attention to his breast, even though others regard it as a nervous habit. He broods on his sin in private; while he proclaims to all that he is a sinner, he never names the sinner. Hester never speaks of her sin, yet she carries the brand constantly in the public eye.
“The Scarlet Letter” examines the different ways different people act in the same dilemma. Hester becomes defiant. Arthur becomes frail, mentally, spiritually and physically. Roger Chillingworth, Hester’s betrayed husband, becomes bitter and vengeful; becoming twisted both in mind and body. Pearl is an untamable spirit, acting as she will, letting nothing phase her or distract her from her purpose. These changes are revealed in these characters through various methods. Each character is described a different way, making their natures even more individual, until they seem to leap off the page as living, breathing persons, complete with all the flaws that make them human.
The second was written about Thanksgiving and the war stories of that time of year... 11/27/07
Thanksgiving and “The Scarlet Letter”
For all its joyful toutings of thanks and good will, Thanksgiving can be a living hell as feuding family members are forced together. Then all the grief that has been boarded up for a year is set free and scrap fights erupt, whether with words or cinder blocks.
Sometimes the showdown doesn’t begin until after the meal is over and the turkey carcass lies rotting in the refrigerator. Sometimes it is a few days later, as the party members brood on their hurts that were inflamed by the mere sight of their enemy. Even members of close family who see one another every day can, fueled by mashed potatoes and green bean casserole, find the energy to put the smack-down on their opposites who are equally fueled with pumpkin pie and stuffing. After any show-down, banishment ensues and thus the new hurts are carefully packed away to be displayed at the next Thanksgiving.
“The Scarlet Letter” by Nathaniel Hawthorne provides a vivid parallel for my own holiday war story. It begins with festering. Much like the people murmuring among themselves as they stand outside the jailhouse, my internal thoughts had been restlessly churning. My brothers were being twits once again and their problems, unlike wine, grow worse with age. It had been getting on my nerves for a long time, but that day it just seemed to be worse. The murmuring outside the door was growing louder. The pimple was under pressure. The fuse was being consumed slowly as the flame creeps towards the dynamite. The countdown has started.
It all came to a head when my eldest younger brother spoke to my mother. As he ages, he seems to have acquired a certain quality to his voice. Other boys’ voices crack and then become the deep bass of manhood. My brother’s voice, rather than follow norms of humanity, has become the whining drone of an angry midget trying to reach the public pay phone. It screeches. It moans. It mutters like a faulty car. But this voice’s main trait, brought on by floods of teen hormones, is rudeness. He spews out comments like water in a ditch. A two sentence conversation with him inevitably turns out nasty, no matter what the topic. The voices outside the jail had hushed now. Lester was coming out. The countdown is over.
It began very simply. A request for him to speak in a more pleasant voice when conversing with my mother. It was the squeaking of the hinge and rustle of fabric as Hester begins to emerge. Then he replied and the door was wrenched open. The festering voices had gone silent, but now open hatred spewed from the people’s eyes. My silence had ended and words were about to flow.
We sparred back and forth; me firing off criticisms of his behavior, dragging up six years of my hurts; his defensive thrusts back at me. Insults flew back and forth. The elder was speaking, laying bare Hester’s shame before all. We were stripping away the layers of the onion, looking for the core.
There was a lull and a few other events, after which the second brother joined in. This was more upsetting. He is better at arguing than the first brother and thus it becomes a battle of wits rather than who can scream the loudest. He twisted my words; taking hold of the elephant’s trunk and yanking. I became the enemy, the bad guy, the mustache-twirling villain, as I became a flaming ball of emotion. Hester had had the scarlet letter stitched to her breast.
Banishment followed. Hester is forced to live outside the village. I refused to speak to my brothers for a time and when my mother tried to console me and explain to me, I began to cry and simply became more angry. My mother took my youngest brother aside to explain why I was crying. The little twit seemed to have no idea why I was upset. He blamed me for the whole thing. The scarlet letter was gleaming in the sun of accusation.
Thanksgiving is the time for thanks. My brothers should give thanks if they manage to survive next time.
Yeah, I love "The Scarlet Letter." However, my English class is now reading "The Great Gatsby" and I do think that soon my loyalties shall be changing... *rubs hands treacherously*
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