The Scarlet Letter

I admired this novel increasingly more as it went along. It is structurally fantastic, conservatively written, every chapter moving the story forward like perfectly wound clockwork. It is filled with careful analysis of the characters' inner lives and moral quandaries. A couple of standout chapters are especially admirable. It is only Hawthorne's ponderous style that is not my cup of tea. He is in love with words, as am I, but he presents them in immense blocks of exposition that can fill an entire page. He is very fond of telling rather than showing, so I was forced to view practically everything through his narrative voice. The stiffness might be intentional to fit the Puritanical setting, but I suspect it's just him. This alone has show more probably killed enthusiasm for the novel in more than one young scholar who has it pressed upon them.

The plot outline creates a problem by what it withholds in order to provide a hook. Or I have a problem, in being unwilling to take what an author shows me at face value. Hester has admirable traits, but her entire character rests on the true circumstances of her affair, and those are the novel's primary mystery. I had to assume that her backstory would prove sympathetic. Her daughter Pearl is an even greater enigma, born as innocent as any child but portrayed as if oddly otherwise. I judged this was a realism story and I should not read too much into that; assuming, again. Dimmesdale's implied role looked like a red herring. Chillingworth was the one character I did take as given, probably from a reader's sympathy for his want of answers. The second half of the story clears all of these problems away. I wonder whether I would have enjoyed the first hundred pages more had I known the plot in advance, but I would have enjoyed the second half less. There's some good tension as Hawthorne's 19th century mores head towards playing out in a 17th century setting - or not. With the the entire picture before me, I'm giving this a higher rating than I expected. show less

A tale of crime and punishment, one of public, another private. A beautiful examination of the human spirit, of love, pain and sin, and of the Puritan ethos.

I like reading classics because they always have an element of timeless truth or beauty - something that stood the test of time and still speaks to us. I found Hawthorne's examination of sin and remorse, love and suffering very beautiful and thorough. He clearly was writing a parable, comparing the suffering of a sin in public and in private. Hester, despite of her public shame, lived a true life and could be herself - while the private shame and public reverence destroyed her partner in crime.

The characters in The Scarlet Letter raise as much sympathy in me as do characters in a badly- filmed and overdramatic soap opera. Dimmesdale, the "hero" of the piece, is a spineless worm that deserves to be squashed. It is impossible to imagine this cringing, crawling invertebrate ever playing the part of a passionate lover. Chillingworth, the villain of the piece, has about as much depth and creativity as his name. He could have been an interestingly twisted character, but is instead reduced to a plot device to keep the action going. He has about as much depth as a villain in a silent movie who laughs maniacally and twirls his mustache as he ties the heroine to a railroad track--not that he would need to actually tie down Hester, the show more heroine. If told to stand on the racetrack, she would probably do it. The "humble narrator" (yes, he calls himself this) idolizes Hester for her return to domesticity, self-flagelation, and protection of the man who should at least share her punishment. Yet she then flips implausibly back and forth from meek and apologetic to fiery and passionate. Hawthorne has no excuse for such poor writing. Other authors of the time, such as Jane Austen, write with sparkle and interest, with tangibly lifelike characters. Hawthorne’s book is at the same level of flamboyantly unreal drama as Alcott’s The Inheritance or The Long, Fatal Love Chase. show less

Maybe it’s for the best that I never read this classroom classic in school. You have to have lived some life to understand this book. The Scarlet Letter isn’t only, as adaptations like Easy A suggest, a story of religious hypocrisy and social ostracism. It’s about what you do once society has turned its back on you and how craving for social approval will make you degrade yourself. It’s about the seduction of revenge and the throbbing hopes we carry all our lives, often never to be revealed. Hawthorne is the reader of our dark American hearts. Read him if you dare to know yourself.

I’ve been curious about this book for a while, and finally took the plunge and downloaded the audiobook. This is a fascinating story—not one I necessarily enjoyed, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I reread it sometime in the future.

The introduction to the book was CRAZY long. Honestly, unless you like rambling thoughts about what a custom house was like in the mid-late 1800s, you can skip it, and you won’t miss out on much. The main point of the introduction can be summed up as “This story is loosely based on a true story.” And really, that’s all you need to know.

Once you get into the book, you’re immediately hit by the atmosphere of the story. I didn’t realize before I read the book that this is a piece of classic show more gothic literature, but that’s definitely the case. The story, the setting, and even nature itself, as told in the story—all are on the dark, somewhat doleful side of the spectrum. And while I haven’t enjoyed every gothic novel I’ve read, I did enjoy this one in a twisted sort of way.

Hester Prynne is the kind of character you can easily sympathize with. She’s in a difficult situation, yet chooses what she deems the noblest choice in the situation, and then proceeds to live under her community’s scrutiny and disdain for years. This story is one of immense grief, of guilt, bondage, and hopelessness. But occasionally, there are glimpses of hope—if you can keep your eyes open for them. And that’s what redeemed the story for me in the end.

What impressed me the most about this story is the emotional journey you go on as you follow Hester’s story. At times, you’re forced to contend with yourself as you watch her suffer, and I was intrigued to realize how much I rooted for even the tiniest bit of hope for her, even though she didn’t always make the right decision. And the ending? It was perfect for the story.

Overall, this is a deeply nuanced book with a fascinating (if not a little doleful and gloomy) setting. I enjoyed the story, and I wasn’t sure I would. I’m looking forward to picking up other Hawthorne stories in the future when and if I have the chance! show less

I originally read this book in high school. I reread it now, with two more decades of life experience. I've lived among Christians who revere the Puritan era. I've experienced social shunning. I'm a male living in the #MeToo era where one sin of sexual harassment can lead to career demise.

In all of these situations, however, I side with Hawthorne's sympathies towards those who bear the brunt of social shunning. Or at least, I try to side. If social order must be enforced (and social order in the case of a pregnancy is an extreme but common example), then it must be enforced loosely. That's what prohibition, abortion, and the rest of the culture wars have taught us. It is foolishness to fight human nature.

At the same time, those who are show more persecuted are often ennobled by their suffering, as Hester Prynne and Pearl were by theirs. The Scarlet A became not a sign of Adultery but of Ability for Hester. Hawthorne holds her up as a model, and I follow her willingly against those (on whatever side of the left/right/center cultural battles) who hold that purity ought to be externally enforced all the time.

It is a tenuous foundation that we sit upon as Americans. We are often blind to the purity-seekers who more-or-less agree with us. Although we are considered a free country, we often bind up our fellow citizens in our quest for purity. Indeed, in so doing, we act like our forebears. Hawthorne reminds us of this well. Puritan New England is not that far away from us today. show less

This was a re-read. The last time I read it, I was in high school. I did a re-read with my daughter (who is in high school).

It's interesting to see how time changes our perception of these things, but also how little changes as well. I had very vivid memories of Dimmesdale flogging himself like, ALL THE TIME in the book but that must have been the product of my overactive imagination because it's hardly mentioned. On the other hand, I had kind of the same reaction to the relationship between him and Hester, which was the following:

Dimmesdale you f-ing dimwit, you bagged this hot, smart, talented woman who is into you and you're not even like, not allowed to get married so wtf. Just marry her. From my modern perspective, it's kind of show more hard to understand where he's coming from.

My favorite scene is when he and Hester are in the forest and he's freaking out like usual and she like, puts him in a headlock basically and smooshes his face into her boobs while their weird little kid is just like, running around eating random berries. *chef's kiss.*

Speaking of their weird kid... Another thing that hasn't changed terribly since I was a teenager is that the character of Pearl is still annoying af, but I get it. She's a symbol, she's not supposed to be realistic blah blah blah. I didn't find her as annoying as I did as a teenager, but she's still pretty ridiculous.

That being said, Nathaniel Hawthorne did a better job than most modern male authors of portraying a female protagonist (IMO) so he has that going for him, which is nice. show less