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Scarlet Letter  Nathaniel Hawthorne
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                                      1850                                  
                                                                            
                             NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S                          
                               THE SCARLET LETTER                           
                                                                            
                                by Sara Sheldon                             
                                                                            
                                 SERIES EDITOR                              
                             Michael Spring, Editor                         
                      Literary Cavalcade, Scholastic Inc.                   
                                                                            
                                ACKNOWLEDGMENTS                             
        We would like to acknowledge the many painstaking hours of work     
          Holly Hughes and Thomas F. Hirsch have devoted to making the      
                          Book Notes series a success.                      
                                                                            
                                                                            
            (C) Copyright 1984 by Barron's Educational Series, Inc.         
                                                                            
   Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1993, World Library, Inc.     
                                                                            
CONTENTS                                                                    
                               CONTENTS                                     
                  SECTION.......................... SEARCH ON               
                                                                            
          THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES................. HSCAAUTH                
                                                                            
          THE NOVEL                                                         
          The Plot................................. HSCAPLOT                
          The Characters........................... HSCACHAR                
          Other Elements                                                    
               Setting............................. HSCASETT                
               Themes.............................. HSCATHEM                
               Symbolism........................... HSCASYMB                
               Structure........................... HSCASTRU                
          THE STORY................................ HSCASTOR                
                                                                            
          A STEP BEYOND                                                     
          Tests and Answers........................ HSCATEST                
          Term Paper Ideas......................... HSCATERM                
          Glossary................................. HSCAGLOS                
          The Critics.............................. HSCACRIT                
                                                                            
          Advisory Board........................... HSCAADVB                
                                                                            
          Bibliography............................. HSCABIBL                
                                                                            
AUTHOR_AND_HIS_TIMES                                                        
                       THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES             (HSCAAUTH)      
-                                                                           
  It was a brash, bustling, energetic country in which Hawthorne            
grew up and carved out his writing career. The covered wagons were          
rolling West, with signs that bravely declared "California or bust!"        
The first passenger railroad opened, and the trains went huffing and        
puffing along at the (then) incredible speed of 20 miles an hour.           
Jackson was elected president, throwing the conservative statesmen out      
of office and ushering in the age of democracy and the common man.          
  It was an age between wars, when America, having beaten England           
for the second time- in the War of 1812- was flexing its adolescent         
muscles. Hope was in the air, and also a feeling of impatience with         
the imported, second-hand, European way of doing things. "Down with         
the past" might have been the slogan of the time. Americans sensed a        
fresh, creative task at hand in the building of a new country. It           
was a task that called for strong backs, clear eyes, and open minds.        
  There were experiments in living going on to match the experiments        
in politics and technology. Starry-eyed intellectuals gathered outside      
Boston to thrive on a vegetarian diet at Alcott's Fruitlands.               
Thoreau conducted his own private experiments in a life close to            
nature at Walden Pond. Horace Mann planned to change the world by           
changing education.                                                         
  Where was Hawthorne while all this excitement was going on? In his        
bedroom in Salem, reading a book. You get the distinct feeling about        
this man that, so far as the great adventures of his time were              
concerned, he simply wasn't paying attention. Hawthorne was gazing          
intelligently off in another direction. Most of his generation              
looked expectantly toward the future. Hawthorne kept his eyes on the        
past.                                                                       
  He was an introvert, almost a recluse, this native son of Salem,          
Massachusetts. After graduating from Bowdoin College, he spent close        
to twelve years at home in his room, reading and learning his writer's      
craft. For subject matter, he turned not to life but to books and to        
his own family history. When he was a boy, his Puritan ancestors had        
haunted his imagination. And now, he read voraciously about early           
New England history, fleshing out his childhood dreams.                     
  Perhaps Hawthorne read so much about the Puritans that their              
concerns became his. More likely, his reading struck a chord in him         
that was already familiar. Hawthorne thought about sin. He thought          
about guilt. He thought about the dark side of the soul. He pondered        
questions that few other men of his time thought or cared about-            
questions like: What happens to people who nurse a secret sin               
throughout their lives? Or, is it true that the evil taint of a             
crime lingers forever on the soul?                                          
  Hawthorne had a wide, unconventional streak in his soul, and he           
didn't like it. Some part of him was always at war with the recluse         
and pessimist in himself.                                                   
  Hawthorne even briefly flirted with Utopianism. He joined Brook           
Farm, a community near Boston, in the hopes that a life in the open         
air, in communion with other writers, would be congenial to him. But        
milking cows and raking manure proved too much for Hawthorne. He            
left after a year to resume a private writing career.                       
  Hawthorne made other attempts to put himself in touch with the            
currents of his time. At the age of 35, he sought- of all things- a         
political appointment. Hawthorne went to work in the Salem Custom           
House, where his nose was really rubbed in the grimy details of trade.      
  There was a good reason for that particular choice. Hawthorne had         
met his future wife, Sophia Peabody, and he needed money to marry           
on. He was never a best-selling author, and a lack of funds was a           
problem he would wrestle with all his life.                                 
  The question of money would rear its ugly head again in 1846 when         
Hawthorne, now a husband and a father, returned to the Salem Custom         
House as Surveyor. He spent three mildly discontented years there,          
to be thrown out in 1849 when a Whig victory ended the Democrats'           
reign. (Hawthorne was a member of the Democratic party.)                    
  Hawthorne was bitter at such high-handed treatment. But his               
dismissal from the Custom House proved a blessing in disguise. He           
was free to write again. Indeed, he had to write in order to keep a         
roof over his head. He set immediately to work and produced The             
Scarlet Letter, published in 1850.                                          
  Perhaps the novel served as a kind of creative trigger, for the           
famous works now followed quickly, one on the heels of another: The         
House of the Seven Gables in 1851, and The Blithedale Romance in 1852.      
  We can talk about the later events of Hawthorne's life: the birth of      
more children, a consulship to England, the publication of The              
Marble Faun in 1860. And yet, if we do, we will get no closer to the        
man. Hawthorne lived a decent, middle-class, intellectual sort of           
life. He wrote, he served his country in minor capacities, he had           
children, he worked to support them. And yet, there was something he        
held back, a part of himself he showed only to the four walls of his        
room.                                                                       
  Nathaniel Hawthorne was a man, for instance, who married a                
genteel, delicate woman, a woman to whom love meant the sweet sound of      
violins. But the creator of Hester Prynne knew a different side of          
things; knew just as surely as he lived that there were dark, erotic        
temptresses out there with eyes a man could drown in.                       
                                                                            
PLOT                                                                        
                              THE NOVEL                                     
-                                                                           
                               THE PLOT                     (HSCAPLOT)      
-                                                                           
  The year is 1642. The place is Boston, a small Puritan settlement.        
Before the town jail, a group of somber people wait with stern              
expressions on their faces. They are expecting Hester Prynne, a             
woman convicted of adultery and condemned to stand on the village           
scaffold for three hours of public shame.                                   
  Hester appears, carrying an infant in her arms, and wearing a             
scarlet letter A (for Adulteress) as a badge of her disgrace. A             
careful look at Hester's face, however, shows she is not contrite,          
as the crowd expects, but rather quietly defiant. Three hours on the        
scaffold do little to change her attitude. When pressed by the              
magistrates to repent of her crime and name her lover to the                
authorities, Hester answers with a silence that echoes through the          
market-place. She scorns her judges. To one man alone does she show         
any sign of fear.                                                           
  That man is Hester's husband who has just arrived in town, having         
sent Hester ahead from Europe two years before. Taking quick stock          
of the situation, he disguises his identity and assumes a new one,          
that of Roger Chillingworth, physician. Before Hester's ordeal is           
over, Chillingworth has made his plans. He will stay in Boston and          
search out his unnamed rival.                                               
  That night, Chillingworth visits Hester in prison to secure her           
promise of secrecy. The world must not know him as her husband. Hester      
agrees to Chillingworth's demands, partly out of exhaustion, partly         
out of fear that her husband will indeed find and expose her lover. It      
is a promise she will live to regret.                                       
  The years go by. Hester, released from prison, moves with her             
daughter Pearl to a small cottage on the outskirts of town. There           
she earns a meager living as a seamstress. Though Hester's conduct          
is now quiet and modest, her life is made hell on earth by the              
unforgiving citizens of Boston who shun her, or insult her, as the          
woman of the scarlet letter.                                                
  There is even an attempt, led by the Governor himself, to take            
Hester's child from her. But the attempt fails when Hester goes to the      
Governor's mansion to fight in person for Pearl. There she enlists the      
aid of Arthur Dimmesdale, the colony's revered young minister, who          
argues convincingly on Hester's behalf. In the meantime, Chillingworth      
has made quite a name for himself as a doctor. He has approached            
Dimmesdale, who is not well, with an offer of his services. Dimmesdale      
is gently pressured into accepting medical treatment. And                   
Chillingworth takes the opportunity to cement first a professional          
relationship and then an intimate friendship with the minister.             
  What is Chillingworth up to? He has his suspicions that Dimmesdale        
is the man he is looking for, the man who should have stood by              
Hester's side on the scaffold. Chillingworth now watches, listens,          
tests, and probes, until he finds what he is looking for: an A on           
Dimmesdale's chest (we might call it a psychosomatic sign) just like        
the letter worn by Hester Prynne.                                           
  Dimmesdale is the guilty man; he is also a guilt-ridden one. The          
secret the minister carries within him is burning to get out. He            
starts to confess in his sermons, but cowardice holds him back. He          
reels to the scaffold to stand vigil where Hester has stood and goes        
to the telltale spot, unseen, in the dead of night.                         
  Dimmesdale's torment is increased by Chillingworth, who takes his         
revenge by playing on the minister's guilt. It is Hester who calls a        
halt to the physician's ugly game. She has seen how suffering has           
wasted Dimmesdale away. She accuses herself of leaving him-                 
unknowing and unaware- a victim in her estranged husband's hands.           
  Hester meets Dimmesdale in the forest to tell him the truth about         
Chillingworth. The meeting reawakens passionate feelings in them both.      
Hester and Dimmesdale plan to escape. They will go to England, where        
Chillingworth cannot follow, and there they will build a new and            
better life.                                                                
  Between the meeting in the forest and the day planned for escape,         
however, something snaps in Dimmesdale. The minister has a change of        
heart. He is a dying man, and he knows it. He holds himself together        
long enough to give the most triumphant sermon of his life. Then he         
mounts the scaffold (this time in daylight) to confess his sin and          
to die in Hester's arms.                                                    
  The story has a postscript. Chillingworth dies with his victim and        
leaves his money to- of all people- Pearl. Hester and her daughter          
leave New England for Europe, where Pearl marries an aristocrat.            
Hester, now alone, returns to Boston where she resumes, of her own          
accord, the scarlet letter. Years later, when she dies, she is              
buried in a grave next to the minister's, where one tombstone, with an      
engraved letter A, serves for them both.                                    
                                                                            
CHARACTERS                                                                  
                            THE CHARACTERS                  (HSCACHAR)      
-                                                                           
  HESTER PRYNNE                                                             
  Hester Prynne is one of the most enigmatic characters in all              
literature. As the wearer of the scarlet letter, she may be expected        
to possess some definitive insight available to no one else. Yet her        
final word on the subject is "I know not. I know not."                      
  Is Hester a glorious heroine, standing up to an unduly repressive         
society in the name of love and freedom? Or is she a sinner who has         
broken a basic and sacred law? And if she is a sinner, does sin lead        
her in the direction of evil or of good?                                    
  Let's look at Hester from a number of different viewpoints:               
-                                                                           
  1. Hester is a magnificent woman fighting for her natural rights          
to love and freedom. To know what Hawthorne means by his heroine,           
you have only to look at her. With her flashing eyes, her rich              
complexion, and her abundant hair, she stands for what a real woman         
should be beside a crowd of tight-mouthed Puritans.                         
  It is true that during the years of her punishment, Hester tries          
to subdue her spirit and sensuality, hiding it all (with that               
wonderful hair of hers) beneath a sad cap. But she can't do it. One         
breath of fresh air, one ray of sunlight, one moment alone with her         
lover in the forest, and she is herself again, reaching passionately        
for a life of freedom and fulfillment.                                      
-                                                                           
  2. Hester Prynne, if not the out-and-out criminal the Puritans            
believe her to be, is still a woman who has deeply sinned. She is,          
after all, guilty of adultery- no small matter, even today.                 
  As Hester herself admits, she has irreparably wronged her husband.        
And so she bears some responsibility for the corruption of                  
Chillingworth's soul.                                                       
  She has also shattered Dimmesdale's peace. She has lured the              
minister- admittedly, with his full cooperation- from the straight and      
narrow path of orthodoxy, where it was surely in his interest to stay.      
-                                                                           
  3. Hester is, indeed, a sinner. But her sin is a cause not of evil        
but of good. Suffering disciplines Hester, so that she grows strong.        
Sorrow awakens her sympathies, so that she becomes a nurse.                 
  In fact, the best deeds of Hester's life come about through her fall      
from grace. Her charity to the poor, her comfort to the                     
broken-hearted, her unquestioned presence in times of trouble are           
the direct result of her search for repentance. If Hester had not           
sinned, she would never have discovered the true depths of                  
tenderness within herself.                                                  
-                                                                           
  4. Hester is neither a heroine nor a sinner, but something in             
between. She is a flesh-and-blood woman in tragic circumstances,            
trapped in a loveless marriage and in love with another man. Whichever      
way she moves, there is bound to be a sacrifice of some vital part          
of herself, either her honor or her deepest need.                           
-                                                                           
  ARTHUR DIMMESDALE                                                         
  Dimmesdale is a coward and a hypocrite. Worse, he is a                    
self-confessed coward and hypocrite. He knows what he has to do to          
still the voice of his conscience and make his peace with God. He           
simply cannot bring himself to do it.                                       
  Dimmesdale is somewhat pale and weak from the first moment we see         
him. And he grows paler and weaker by the minute, as he lives ridden        
with guilt, a guiltmonger by his side. By the time the minister             
comes to the forest, he barely has the strength to throw himself            
down on the leaves in the hope that he can lie there forever. He lacks      
the will even to wish to live or die.                                       
  When we read such a description, we cannot help wondering what            
Hester ever saw in the man.                                                 
  Yet there is a presence in the minister that demands a live audience      
and knows how to sway one. We see it in his eyes- large, brown, and         
melancholy- which seem to search out men's souls. We hear it in his         
voice- sweet, deep, broken- a finely tuned instrument for touching          
women's hearts.                                                             
  Were Dimmesdale just a little stronger, a little more energetic,          
we would say he has charisma. And probably, in his own time and place,      
he did. Ministers were the Puritan culture's heroes. Hester would have      
met Dimmesdale first as the revered idol of the community, the              
object of worshipping glances from every girl in sight.                     
  We sense in Dimmesdale this split between his private and his public      
self, his purity and his passion. We wonder, was the split always           
there?                                                                      
  To some extent, Dimmesdale's story is the story of any sensitive          
young man's initiation into sexuality, especially in a society that         
treats sexuality with ill grace. But his problem is enormously              
complicated by the fact of Hester's marriage (for him no                    
technicality), and by his own image of himself as a cleric devoted          
to higher things. Unlike other young men, Dimmesdale cannot accept his      
loss of innocence and go on from there. He must struggle futilely to        
get back to where he was.                                                   
  By the time we meet Dimmesdale, he has lost (if he ever had it)           
the simplicity of an earlier time. He has bitten into the apple and         
destroyed his old sense of oneness with God. The split in the man's         
nature is deepened by his situation. If he wishes to continue in his        
ministerial role, he must bury his sensuality and wrap himself up in a      
cloak of sanctity. He must wear one face for the world, another for         
himself.                                                                    
  What happens to a man who struggles to hide a terrible sin in the         
depths of his heart, but who believes profoundly in a God that sees         
and loves the truth? That is a question Hawthorne surely asked himself      
in creating the character of Arthur Dimmesdale.                             
  If the minister is a brilliant study in guilt, it is because he           
believes with all his soul that his sin is terrible, and that a             
concerned, personal God is watching every move he makes.                    
  Torn between the desire to confess and atone and the cowardice which      
holds him back, Dimmesdale goes a little mad. He takes up some              
morbid forms of penance- fasts and scourgings- but he can neither whip      
nor starve the sin from his soul. In his agony, he staggers to the          
pulpit to confess, but his words come out as generalized,                   
meaningless avowals of guilt.                                               
  Dimmesdale knows what he is doing, of course. "Subtle, but                
remorseful, hypocrite," he is nothing if not self-aware. But the            
dark stain he perceives on his soul is spreading now, sapping the           
meaning from life, the strength from his will.                              
  By the time the minister meets Hester in the forest, he is ripe           
for an invitation to flight. Perhaps flight is the only way out. And        
anyway, he wonders, for a moral wreck like himself, what does it            
really matter whether he goes or stays?                                     
  If he stays, there is Chillingworth, whose gloating eye he does           
not know how to escape. There is duty, too, that endless round of           
tasks he has always gone about without complaint. But the tasks seem        
hollow now, since (as he believes) he is unfit for his office, since        
his actions are no longer informed by any sustaining faith.                 
  If he goes, there is Hester and the dream of love he has not              
permitted himself for so long. A glowing face in the firelight and          
an embrace (has he not just felt it?) that is like an infusion of           
strength. There is England, too, with the sweet, deep-sounding bells        
of Cambridge, and the winters soft after New England's penetrating          
cold. And minds of his own calibre! The chance, after nine or ten           
years, to really talk!                                                      
  Dimmesdale nearly buys the shining vision of a new life that              
Hester holds out to him in the woods. And yet, with his last ounce          
of strength, he rejects it. He crawls to the scaffold- and confession-      
instead.                                                                    
  Is Dimmesdale right to choose confession over escape; the shreds          
of his religious belief over Hester and love? Your answer will              
depend on your own definition of the good life, and on where you think      
Dimmesdale has been headed all along.                                       
  Some readers believe that Dimmesdale's decision is the only possible      
ending to his long and tortuous struggle to return to God. Others           
see it as a desperate flight from his true, but never acknowledged,         
self.                                                                       
  Let's look at the second argument first. According to this view,          
Dimmesdale found out something essential about himself when he fell in      
love with, and made love to, Hester Prynne. He found out he was not         
a pure, ethereal scholar-priest, but a man with a man's heart and a         
man's desires. What should he have done about it? What all men do,          
when they are ready to grow up. Accept responsibility for a wife and        
child. Marry the woman (or live with her, in this case) and keep a          
roof over her head.                                                         
  The first argument runs somewhat differently. The real Dimmesdale         
(it goes) is no lover at all, but a Puritan minister from the top of        
his head to the tips of his toes. In Hester's arms, he may have             
yielded temporarily to the claims of the flesh. But he never altered        
his basic commitment to the spirit, and to God. The point is not            
whether we believe that Dimmesdale's love for Hester is sin. The point      
is that he believes it, with all his heart. There is only one way he        
can expiate that sin. And that is to stand on the scaffold and              
confess.                                                                    
  The chilling fact about either argument is that it leaves half of         
Dimmesdale out. The flesh has to go or the spirit. There is no way          
of integrating both. Dimmesdale is given a stark choice, and he is          
given it by Hawthorne: To deny love and desire (and their consequent        
human commitments) in the only final way possible, in death; or to          
live, and submerge his finer qualities in a life too closely tied to        
earth.                                                                      
-                                                                           
  ROGER CHILLINGWORTH                                                       
  Sometime in your study of literature, you've probably heard the           
distinction between flat characters and characters in the round. Round      
characters, or three-dimensional ones, leap out from the page with all      
the vigor and complexity of life. Flat characters, or                       
two-dimensional ones, stay firmly imbedded in the work of which they        
are a part. Flat characters have a specific literary task to                
perform. They never get away from their function long enough to assume      
a life and a will of their own.                                             
  The distinction between flat and round characters is important            
with regard to Roger Chillingworth because most critical discussions        
address the question of just how convincing a character he is. He           
is, in part, an evil type that Hawthorne has used in his fiction            
before: the cold heart that observes and does not feel. (As the             
character's name implies, Chillingworth is worth a chill.) But does he      
ever become anything more than a type? Does he, like Hester and             
Dimmesdale, take on human dimensions?                                       
  There are two radically different answers to that question. You will      
have to decide between them.                                                
-                                                                           
  1. To some readers, Chillingworth is a creature right out of              
melodrama. Hawthorne might have borrowed him from a grade-B horror          
film. Chillingworth's very appearance is a hackneyed convention for         
villainy. A misshapen shoulder- shades of Richard III! As if that           
weren't enough, there are Chillingworth's smoldering eyes and his           
dark, sooty face. Why, the man is even less than a real villain. He is      
an imaginary fiend.                                                         
  Chillingworth's appearance aside, his very singleness of purpose          
is inhuman. For seven years, he has only one thought: to find and           
torment the man who has betrayed him. Now who is there among us who         
eats, sleeps, dreams, and breathes revenge?                                 
-                                                                           
  2. Other readers say that, despite the demonic imagery surrounding        
him, Chillingworth remains very much a man. He is, after all, a             
wronged husband, a figure the 17th century held up to ridicule and          
abuse. His lust for revenge is therefore not unnatural, and his method      
of revenge not hackneyed at all. No sword or poison for Chillingworth.      
He takes the psychological approach.                                        
  There are also hints in Chillingworth of a character more complex         
than any simple, straightforward villain would be. He has the gift          
of irony, for instance. And by turning the cool light of irony on           
himself, he is able to share the blame for Hester's infidelity. The         
learned scholar, as he says to himself, should have seen it coming,         
should have read about it in his books.                                     
-                                                                           
  The really interesting question about Chillingworth is why Hawthorne      
felt he had to clamp down on this character, hammer him into place          
with nails, and slap a label of "fiend" upon him. Why didn't he just        
leave Chillingworth free to grow in life and reality, the way he            
left Hester Prynne? The answer seems to lie in Hawthorne's terror of        
Chillingworth's hungry and far-reaching mind.                               
  Chillingworth, we must recognize, is a brilliant scientist. It is no      
accident that the doctor takes Boston by storm. He has the capacity-        
rare in any age, unheard of in Puritan New England- to observe the          
world without preconceptions, and then to put his observations to           
work.                                                                       
  Consider. Chillingworth finds himself beached after a shipwreck, a        
prisoner among the Indians. What does he do? Does he turn up his            
nose at a pack of half-naked savages? Does he mutter incantations           
against demons and black magic? Does he even quote to the                   
uncomprehending red man passages from the Bible or from European            
medical texts? Not at all. Chillingworth considers the possibility          
that the Indians may have something to teach him. And he sets               
himself to learn New World medicine from the Medicine Man.                  
  It is amazing, really. Just how amazing, we can see by comparing          
Dimmesdale and Chillingworth. How alike the two men are, and yet how        
different! Both are scholars, somewhat too committed to midnight oil        
and dusty books. But Dimmesdale is orthodox. Eventually, he shies away      
from new and upsetting ideas to seek refuge in his faith.                   
  Chillingworth, on the contrary, has a brave and adventurous mind. He      
has profited from life in post-Renaissance Europe. He has seen              
nature yielding its secrets to the scientific method. He knows that         
the future belongs to him and to men of his kind.                           
  And yet, Chillingworth's is a mind untempered by mercy, humanity, or      
compassion. He is all head and no heart. His probing intellect, as          
we know from his dealings with Dimmesdale, recognizes no "Stop" or          
"Caution" sign.                                                             
-                                                                           
  PEARL                                                                     
  Pearl. She is Hester's treasure, the pearl of great price, purchased      
with her mother's peace of mind and position in society.                    
  Pearl. She is no treasure to the critics. She has caused many a           
reader to recommend murder as the only way to deal with such a              
maddening character.                                                        
  What is it about Pearl that gets normally sober men and women so          
riled up? The character presents problems because we can never relax        
and enjoy her as a normal child. We must always be on the alert for         
what she means.                                                             
  Pearl is a fascinating experiment, an attempt by Hawthorne to yolk a      
symbol to a human being and make them live comfortably together in one      
body. Sometimes the experiment is successful. Sometimes it's a flop.        
Let's look at two scenes in The Scarlet Letter that represent the           
two ends of the spectrum. Where does Pearl "work"?                          
  She works particularly well in the forest scene in the chapter            
called "The Child at the Brook-Side." If you look at Pearl's actions        
here, they are perfectly understandable without any symbolic                
interpretation.                                                             
  She cries, she stamps her feet in the resentment any child would          
feel at seeing a proper and decorous mother suddenly blossom into           
sexuality. Little girls don't like sexy mothers suddenly thrust upon        
them. Nor do they welcome brand-new and unexpected fathers. Pearl is        
saying what any petted, spoiled child would say under the                   
circumstances: either you love him (that strange, sad man over there),      
or you love me.                                                             
  In the forest scene, the real child can carry the symbol, because         
Pearl's narrative meaning and her symbolic meaning so neatly coincide.      
The child points an accusing finger at Hester, and so does fate. The        
child says, go and pick your own letter up. And fate echoes, the            
scarlet letter is your burden to carry and yours alone. We feel the         
magic of the double role, but not the strain.                               
  Now let's look at a more gruesome incident, Pearl's first appearance      
in her tunic of crimson and gold. We know, because Hawthorne has            
told us, that Puritan children just don't run around dressed that way.      
  Admittedly, Pearl is no run-of-the-mill Puritan child. She is the         
daughter of an outcast, a renegade. But whatever Hester is, she             
loves her daughter and wants to keep her. And in order to keep              
Pearl, Hester has to prove her conformity to the grimmest and sternest      
of Puritan magistrates. It is hardly proof of conformity to arrive          
at the Governor's mansion, where everyone will be dressed in black,         
with a little girl outrageously decked out in scarlet. (Suppose             
Dimmesdale hadn't been around to explain?)                                  
  There is a tug-of-war going on here between Pearl's symbolic              
function and the psychological demands of the story. Unless we make         
a great imaginative effort, we simply don't believe what is going           
on. We are distracted, so to speak, by the creaking of the symbolic         
machinery.                                                                  
-                                                                           
  MISTRESS HIBBINS                                                          
  Mistress Hibbins is a witch. Come on, you'll say, there is no such        
thing as a witch. Not around the corner from your house, perhaps.           
But there were witches in 17th-century Boston. Or, at least, there          
were women who thought they were witches and who conversed regularly        
with the devil.                                                             
  Mistress Hibbins, as the Governor's sister and a woman of birth           
and breeding, raises an interesting question. Why would a lady of           
means and education choose to be known as a witch, when she was likely      
to end up at the stake?                                                     
  Probably the principal appeal of witchcraft lay in its freedom.           
Alone among the women of this rigid, strait-laced society, witches          
could say and do as they liked.                                             
  They could express violent hatred, blatant sexual desire, and a slew      
of other emotions virtuous women had to suppress. Above all, witches        
enjoyed a rare privilege in a society that buried so many things-           
the privilege of telling the truth.                                         
  As you will see, Mistress Hibbins not only says what she likes. What      
she has to say is right. She has a sharp nose for secrets, this             
elegant old hag. She knows just which shy virgins or modest young           
deacons have been dancing in the forest, when Somebody was the              
fiddler.                                                                    
  Now, truth can be a nuisance. Who wants to be reminded all the            
time of midnight deeds and secret thoughts? The historical Mistress         
Hibbins, on whom the fictional character is based, was, in fact             
executed for witchcraft in 1656.                                            
                                                                            
SETTNG                                                                      
                            OTHER ELEMENTS                                  
-                                                                           
                               SETTING                      (HSCASETT)      
-                                                                           
  There are two ways to talk about setting in The Scarlet Letter.           
One way is to look at the meaning or emotional overtones of specific        
places. A second and broader way is to examine the whole Puritan world      
in which Hawthorne has set his novel. Not just the time and place,          
Boston in the 1640s, but the values and beliefs that define Puritan         
society.                                                                    
-                                                                           
  THE MARKET-PLACE AND THE FOREST                                           
  Far and away the most important scenes in The Scarlet Letter take         
place in two locations, the market-place and the forest. These are          
presented to us as very different places, reflecting very different         
human aspirations.                                                          
  The market-place is public. It lies at the very heart of the tiny         
enclave of civilization the Puritans have managed to carve out of           
the vast, untouched continent. The market-place contains both the           
church and the scaffold- institutions of law and religion. It is where      
criminals like Hester are punished, where penitents like Dimmesdale         
confess, and where men put on the faces they wear for the world.            
  The forest, on the other hand, is dark and secret. It is where            
people come to let loose and be themselves. The forest track leads          
away from the settlement out into the wilderness where all signs of         
civilization vanish. The forest track is precisely the escape route         
from the dictates of law and religion to the promised land to the west      
where men can breathe free.                                                 
  The market-place and the forest are symbols of the choice that            
confronts the major characters in the novel. The choice is not as           
simple as it seems.                                                         
  For all its restraints, the market-place is safer and warmer than         
the forest. And you can't get into so much trouble there. In the heart      
of the settlement, there is the comfort of values that are shared,          
of laws that are laid down and respected. Above all, there is the           
comfort of people who care.                                                 
  The open air of the forest is exhilarating, but cold. Nothing is          
known in the wilderness, everything is up for grabs. There is no one        
around to stop you from going to the devil. And when you do, he is          
right there waiting for you.                                                
-                                                                           
  THE PURITAN WORLD                                                         
  Surely the setting of The Scarlet Letter- the stern, joyless world        
of Puritan New England- is one of the grimmest on record. It is all         
gloom and doom. If the sun ever shines, we hardly notice. The whole         
place seems shrouded in black. A question comes to mind as we read the      
novel. Why did Hawthorne choose this dark world for his masterpiece?        
  Perhaps we can tackle that question by asking another one. Why did        
Hawthorne reject the contemporary scene? Even if he chose to ignore         
the richly suggestive American settings of the 1820s and '30s, (the         
Erie Canal, for instance, or the Alamo), he had first-hand material to      
draw on in his own life and career.                                         
  Part of the answer, of course, is that Hawthorne could write about        
the contemporary scene. He did write about it in "The Custom House."        
But what he could write was comedy. The pathetic old Salemites who          
worked for Uncle Sam lent themselves not at all to the tragic work          
he had in mind.                                                             
  Perhaps if Hawthorne reached back to Salem in the 1600s, he would         
find more figures invested with the same dark and dusky grandeur, more      
men and women who would speak as directly to his creative imagination.      
  The Puritan world of the mid-17th century apparently gave                 
Hawthorne something he badly needed- people who lived their lives to        
the full instead of snoring them away. In the pages of The Scarlet          
Letter, the Puritans emerge from the shadows of an earlier time, broad      
shouldered, ruddy cheeked, firm of step, and direct of speech.              
  They were a stern people, of course, and repressive. They probably        
put the lid on more natural human impulses and emotions than any            
society before or since. But just for that reason, emotions boiled          
over, passions a novelist could seize at red heat.                          
  More important, the Puritans had a moral vitality never again             
found on the American scene. For a writer like Hawthorne, intrigued         
with the subject of conscience, here were people with conscience to         
spare.                                                                      
  Whatever their faults, the Puritans at least knew the difference          
between right and wrong. And that was the sensibility Hawthorne was         
after.                                                                      
                                                                            
THEMES                                                                      
                                THEMES                      (HSCATHEM)      
-                                                                           
  LAW VS. NATURE                                                            
  We live in a permissive society. By and large, the law only               
bothers us when we bother the other guy. There is no law to tell us         
what to wear, how to think, or whom to love. In Puritan New England,        
life was vastly different. There, laws covered just about every aspect      
of life. Not surprisingly, human nature revelled against such strict        
supervision. Certain impulses and emotions, passion foremost among          
them, would not be denied.                                                  
  In the love of Hester and Dimmesdale, Hawthorne tells the story of        
one such rebellion. In a very real sense, the lovers are criminals.         
Their passion is a violation of the rigid Puritan civil and                 
religious code. As wild as the forest which shelters it, the love of        
Hester and Dimmesdale asks us to weigh the justice of society's laws        
against the claims of human nature; that is, against men and women's        
most deeply felt desires and needs.                                         
-                                                                           
  THE INDIVIDUAL VS. SOCIETY                                                
  The individual vs. society. Law vs. nature. These are really just         
different terms for the same basic conflict. Hawthorne is a Romantic        
writer with a Romantic subject: a rebel who refuses to conform to           
society's code. Most of us instinctively side with the rebel, the           
nonconformist. But society in this novel has a good deal to be said         
for it. It has assurance, dignity, strength. We can argue that              
Hester is right in her assertion that fulfillment and love are worth        
fighting for. And we can argue, with just as much validity, that            
society is right in its joyless insistence that adultery is a crime         
deserving of punishment.                                                    
-                                                                           
  SIN AND REDEMPTION                                                        
  Hawthorne, as a descendant of Puritans of the deepest dye, is the         
heir to a strong tradition of sin. Puritan theology began with the          
thoroughgoing conviction of sin. After Adam's fall, every man and           
woman was thought to be born an awful and vile sinner, who could be         
redeemed only by God's grace (not by good deeds or by any actions           
which lay within human control).                                            
  Now, Hawthorne is a 19th-century man of enlightenment. He is not a        
Puritan. Nevertheless, he is, morally speaking, something of a chip         
off the old block. As a writer, he is utterly immersed in sin, in           
the wages of sin, in the long odds on redeeming sin.                        
  The Scarlet Letter is a study of the effects of sin on the hearts         
and minds of Hester, Dimmesdale, and Chillingworth. In every case, the      
effect is devastating. Once these characters stumble into evil, they        
flounder about as if in a morass. Sin changes the sinners. It               
darkens their vision and weakens the spirit's defenses against further      
temptation.                                                                 
  And yet, sin also pays some unexpected dividends. Sin strengthens         
Hester. It humanizes Dimmesdale. Hawthorne, departing from his Puritan      
ancestors, considers the possibility that sin may be a maturing force.      
  If sin is an encompassing shadow in the The Scarlet Letter,               
redemption is, at best, a fitfully shimmering light. Chillingworth          
never seeks redemption at all. Hester looks for it in good works,           
and fails to find it.                                                       
  Dimmesdale alone undergoes the necessary change of heart to find a        
doubtful peace.                                                             
-                                                                           
  THE HEART VS. THE HEAD                                                    
  Is there really a war waging inside us between our emotions and           
our reason? Hawthorne thinks so, and he's pretty sure which side he         
wants to win. The heart leads Hester and Dimmesdale astray, but the         
intellect- untempered by feeling, mercy, humanity- thoroughly damns         
Chillingworth. Hawthorne comes down on the side of the heart.               
-                                                                           
  THE PUBLIC AND THE PRIVATE SELF                                           
  Hawthorne's Puritan New England is a world which encourages               
duplicity. So much is forbidden that almost everyone has something          
to hide. Hawthorne's characters walk around in daylight with pious and      
sober expressions on their faces. But once they get home at night           
and lock the door, they pull out their secret thoughts and gloat            
over them like misers delighting in a hidden stash of gold.                 
                                                                            
SYMBOLISM                                                                   
                              SYMBOLISM                     (HSCASYMB)      
-                                                                           
  Let's talk a little bit about what a symbol is. The common                
definition says that a symbol is a sign or token of something. A lion,      
for instance, is a symbol of courage. The bald eagle is a symbol of         
America. A white bridal gown is (or used to be) a symbol of purity. We      
take symbols like these pretty much for granted. They are a part of         
our everyday experience.                                                    
  In literature, matters are a little more complicated. Literary            
symbols usually don't have instantly recognizable meanings. Rather          
they take their meanings from the works of which they are a part.           
  In The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne gives us a symbol, a red letter A        
whose meaning has to be deciphered. What does the scarlet letter mean?      
It is a question repeated by almost every character in the novel who        
is confronted with the blatant red token and who has to deal with           
it: by Hester herself, as she sits in prison, decorating the emblem         
with golden thread; by Reverend Wilson, who addresses the crowd at the      
scaffold with such terrifying references to the scarlet A that it           
seems to glow red with hellfire; by Pearl, who asks about the letter        
so often that she threatens to drive her mother (and all of us) mad.        
  The symbol's meaning is hard to pin down because it is no passive         
piece of cloth, but a highly active agent. The scarlet letter provokes      
hostile feelings in the citizens of Boston, who shun Hester and insult      
her as something tainted and vile.                                          
  Society's response to the letter, in turn, affects Hester. On the         
surface, she becomes a patient and penitential figure. She looks            
like someone seeking to live down the sin that the scarlet letter           
represents. But beneath the surface, rebellion is brewing. Society's        
insults make Hester angry and bitter. She becomes a scornful critic of      
her world. Hester takes the letter to herself. She becomes in fact the      
renegade she is labeled. Hester breaks free of conventional ideas and,      
as we see in the forest scene, she opposes Puritan truths with some         
devastating truths of her own.                                              
  The point Hawthorne is making is that our lives are inevitably            
shaped by our past actions and by the signs of those actions- be            
they medals or badges of infamy- which we wear. Symbols like the            
scarlet letter shape our perceptions and our temperaments. They             
determine the kind of people we become.                                     
  Over the years, the scarlet letter and its wearer blend into one.         
The letter, whatever it means, is the summation of Hester's life.           
But a letter is a remarkably ambiguous symbol. It can stand for any         
word beginning with A.                                                      
  Does the A stand for Adulteress, surely the intention of the              
magistrates who imposed it in the first place? Does it stand for            
Able in recognition of Hester's devotion as a nurse? Does it even mean      
Angel, with the consequent suggestion that Hester has risen above           
the society which condemned her?                                            
  There is danger and excitement in the uncertainty. If we knew for         
sure that the A stood for Adulteress, we would have Hester neatly           
pegged. We would know we were supposed to condemn her. But Hawthorne        
is not content to let the matter rest at that. He asks us to look at        
Hester from other, very different, viewpoints. We are never altogether      
sure whether we should condemn Hester or admire her.                        
                                                                            
STRUCTURE                                                                   
                              STRUCTURE                     (HSCASTRU)      
-                                                                           
  The Scarlet Letter began life as a short story. (Hawthorne was            
advised to expand it into a novel, which he did.) In many respects, it      
retains the characteristics of a short story. The Scarlet Letter has        
the tightness and the economy we generally associate with the               
shorter fictional form.                                                     
  Hawthorne's novel has only one plot. There are no subplots- no            
secondary love stories, for instance, such as you find in the novels        
of Jane Austen. It also has only one setting: Boston in the 1640s.          
Although Pearl and Hester eventually sail off to Europe, the reader is      
not invited to follow them there.                                           
  The Scarlet Letter has only four main characters: Hester,                 
Dimmesdale, Chillingworth, and Pearl. All the other characters are          
really part of the historical tapestry against which the action             
takes place.                                                                
  Perhaps most important of all, The Scarlet Letter has one                 
predominating mood. For this, the lighting is largely responsible.          
We move in a world of darkness which is relieved only occasionally          
by a ray of light. (The darkness sets in early, with the beadle's           
presence obscuring the sunshine in Chapter 2. It continues to the           
end of the novel, with the legend on Hester's tombstone: "so somber...      
and relieved only by one ever-glowing point of light, gloomier than         
the shadow.")                                                               
  Since Hawthorne's novel is such a spare and unified work, it is           
curious that readers disagree about its heart or structural center.         
Some critics believe that the heart of the book's structure is the          
scaffold, or penitential platform, to which Dimmesdale finally              
brings himself to stand by Hester's side. According to this view,           
the scaffold scenes alternate with the pivotal forest scenes, where         
the lovers confront the critical choice of escape from society or           
return to it.                                                               
  But no less an authority than Henry James (the novelists' novelist        
and the acknowledged master of form in American fiction) disagrees.         
James dismisses the forest scenes- and indeed, any of the scenes where      
Hester plays a major part- as secondary. The Scarlet Letter, James          
says, is no love story. It is the story of retribution. And its center      
is the relationship between Dimmesdale and Chillingworth, the guilty        
lover and the sinister husband whose sole purpose is to keep that           
guilt alive.                                                                
                                                                            
INTRODUCTORY                                                                
                              THE STORY                     (HSCASTOR)      
-                                                                           
                    THE CUSTOM HOUSE: INTRODUCTORY                          
-                                                                           
  Unless you are specifically assigned otherwise, you should save "The      
Custom House" until after you have finished reading The Scarlet             
Letter.                                                                     
  Frankly, you will find the introduction rough going. It is long.          
It is plotless. It depends for its effect on a sense of humor that          
is far removed from modern comedy shows like Saturday Night Live. In        
addition, "The Custom House" is not really an integral part of the          
novel proper. It was added by Hawthorne as an afterthought on the           
advice of his publisher. The piece was supposed to add a light touch        
to an otherwise heavy work, and thereby increase sales.                     
  "The Custom House" purports to be an explanation of how Hawthorne         
came to write The Scarlet Letter. In fact, you can read the piece           
twice over without discerning the truth. Hawthorne was fired from           
his job as Custom House Surveyor when the election of 1849 ousted           
his party from office. As the Custom House was a political appointment      
which depended on the good graces of the administration, Hawthorne was      
out of work.                                                                
  In a way, the Custom House job did lead Hawthorne to The Scarlet          
Letter. The losing of it drove the novelist back to his original            
trade. What's more, Hawthorne's appointment as Surveyor brought him         
back to Salem. It put him, once again, in touch with his roots.             
  Salem had a firm hold on Hawthorne, even if it was a hold he              
sometimes struggled to break. The place had been native soil to his         
family for generations. Hawthorne's father had been born there, and         
his father before him- sailors all, who helped to build the great           
New England shipping trade. And there were earlier and grander              
Hawthornes than that: John Hathorne (the w came later), the                 
notorious hanging judge of the Salem Witch Trials; and John's               
father, William, one of the original founders of the colony, who had        
come over from England with Governor Winthrop in 1630.                      
  In short, Hawthorne's roots in Salem went back just about as far          
as American history. On the western side of the Atlantic, that ranks        
as quite a family tree.                                                     
  It was not the present Salem, however, with its decayed wharf and         
its equally decrepit inhabitants, that gripped Hawthorne's                  
imagination. It was the town as it used to be: the bustling                 
18th-century port where the white-sailed dippers came to rest after         
their long voyages to the Indies, and the 17th-century village where        
grim-faced Puritans, swathed in black, trod the narrow streets with         
Bible in hand.                                                              
  How could Hawthorne reach back into Salem's past and mine this            
rich vein for the characters and stories he wanted to write about? The      
Custom House pointed the way. The place, with its ancient officials,        
turned out to be a sort of local archives.                                  
  Hawthorne found that his co-workers, if they chose, had some              
fascinating stories to tell. The General, for instance, had fought          
in his youth in the War of 1812. He had even become a legend in his         
own time by uttering, when ordered to charge a British battery, a           
simple but courageous phrase. "I'll try, sir," the young officer had        
replied.                                                                    
  On a more mundane level, the Inspector also had a positive genius         
for summoning up the past. Why, the man could recall gourmet dinners        
he had eaten sixty or seventy years ago! As an appetizer, the               
inspector was better than an oyster. He could make your mouth water         
with descriptions of long-since-devoured turkeys and roasts.                
  The officials aside, the Custom House itself was a repository of the      
past. On the second floor, a little-used cobweb-covered room housed         
a collection of ancient records. One day, while rummaging through           
the rubbish heaps, Hawthorne found a small package, neatly wrapped          
in yellowing parchment. It had apparently been overlooked by                
generations of previous Custom House employees.                             
  Unwrapping the package, Hawthorne found "a certain affair of fine         
red cloth," shaped like the letter A. And along with that curious           
piece of cloth, he discovered a manuscript, which upon examination          
proved to date from Colonial times, recording the story of Hester           
Prynne.                                                                     
  Such, at any rate, is the story Hawthorne tells, for the discovery        
of the letter and the manuscript is a fabrication. Or perhaps, it is a      
metaphor for a far less poetic truth. The Custom House job was a            
relatively undemanding one that left Hawthorne with a lot of time on        
his hands. He used that time to continue his exhaustive research            
into the history of early New England. And in that research, or rather      
in the blend of historical fact with his creative imagination,              
Hawthorne found the story of The Scarlet Letter.                            
  If the Custom House gave Hawthorne the chance to find his subject         
matter, it also gave him a stiff case of Writer's block. Hawthorne          
couldn't write while he was still employed as Surveyor. There were too      
many distractions, too many petty details to attend to, to much             
jobbing and inefficiency about the place. The Custom House was no           
atmosphere for a Romantic writer. Hawthorne needed, as he                   
recognized, a more ethereal ambiance of moonbeams and firelight.            
  Perhaps we may see "The Custom House" as a sign of departure in           
American literature. Hawthorne was working his way out of a                 
realistic tradition. He was reaching- it was the subject of every           
one of his prefaces- for a special blend of the actual and the              
imaginary. The imaginary is what pulled Hawthorne away from sunlit          
contemporary scenes, where the details were too sharp and clear,            
toward ancient shadowy places: prisons, castles, primeval forests.          
(Poe had arrived there shortly before him.)                                 
  Hawthorne would later distinguish between the novel, a type of            
work closely tied to historical fact, and the romance, a slightly           
different genre that gave the creative writer more elbow room. He           
would position himself as a writer of romances and demand all the           
license that the term bestowed.                                             
  There is another sense in which we can see "The Custom House" as a        
break with tradition. When he wrote the essay, Hawthorne was being          
anti-Progressive, critical of commerce, skeptical about the American        
dream. His was not the usual optimistic note of American writers. Only      
fifty years before, for example, Benjamin Franklin had gloried in           
the financial opportunities offered by the New World. He had chosen         
for his subject what we now call upward mobility. Here in America-          
unheard of in Europe- was the chance for a son to rise above his            
father's station in life.                                                   
  Franklin fairly oozed with confident assurance that people could          
better themselves through hard work and perseverance. "The early            
bird catches the worm." "A penny saved is a penny earned." Listen to        
Poor Richard, and you were practically guaranteed success in life.          
  Hawthorne was not of Franklin's mind. He was not an optimist. He          
distrusted easy guarantees. And he questioned the whole definition          
of success when it was presented to him in economic terms. For              
Hawthorne, commerce was not the upward climb to affluence. It was           
the path of descent from higher concerns.                                   
  We can see Hawthorne's slant in "The Custom House." His contemporary      
Salem fostered, not financial growth, but spiritual decay. Once New         
England's trade had smacked of adventure. But now the old sailors           
sat on the Custom House porch, warming their hides in the spring            
sun. Wards of the government, they had lost the vitality which              
characterizes men who live by their own efforts. They had sunk, in          
their dotage, into corruption and laziness.                                 
  Even the one efficient man in the outfit- shall we call him the           
Clerk or the Accountant? Hawthorne gives him no title- tended to            
confuse good bookkeeping with good morals. His integrity was really         
a matter of fastidiousness. A stain on his conscience would bother him      
in much the same way as an ink blot in his accounting book.                 
  Compare these Custom House officials, if you will, with the Puritans      
in the opening chapters of The Scarlet Letter. These early inhabitants      
of Salem enjoy a robustness and vitality their descendants have lost.       
  Grim the characters may be and forbidding, severe even to cruelty in      
their treatment of Hester Prynne. But they keep their sights not on         
receipts of purchase, but on the eternal truths revealed to them by         
God.                                                                        
  The Puritans have belief, conviction, faith- choose whatever word         
you like to convey that inner force which makes a human being stand         
for something larger than himself. Perhaps you will say the Puritans        
have soul, if you mean by that an inviolate spirit.                         
                                                                            
CHAPTER_1                                                                   
                      CHAPTER 1: THE PRISON-DOOR                            
-                                                                           
  Hawthorne opens The Scarlet Letter just outside the prison of             
what, in the early 1640s, was the village of Boston.                        
  Ask yourself what you know about a novel that begins in a prison.         
You probably suspect you are reading the story of a crime already           
committed, of characters whose lives are already darkened by guilt and      
disgrace. And, in the case of The Scarlet Letter, you are quite right.      
  Look carefully at the details of the opening scene: "The sad-colored      
garments" of the spectators; the prison-door itself, "heavily timbered      
with oak and studded with iron spikes." These details create a              
somber mood; they paint a cheerless picture. And they hint, as well,        
at a society that places punishment far above forgiveness on its scale      
of values.                                                                  
  One note of color relieves the gloom. A wild rose bush blossoms by        
the prison door. A natural thing, the rose bush suggests a world            
beyond the narrow confines of the Puritan community, where beauty           
and vibrant color flourish and crime finds tolerance and pity.              
  You will not know it yet. But even this early, Hawthorne has              
marked the thematic boundaries of his novel: law and nature,                
repression and freedom. In the following chapters, his characters will      
move back and forth between them.                                           
                                                                            
CHAPTER_2                                                                   
                     CHAPTER 2: THE MARKET-PLACE                            
-                                                                           
  You will find much of The Scarlet Letter descriptive and analytical.      
But not the central scenes. These are dramatic enough to take your          
breath away.                                                                
  "The Market-Place," for instance, is some curtain-raiser. In one          
vivid image, you have the whole story. The lines of conflict are            
drawn, the issues defined, the characters placed in relation to one         
another.                                                                    
  The image Hawthorne gives us is that of a young woman taken in            
adultery, and standing on a scaffold in the midst of a hostile              
crowd. (Wait a minute. An adulteress on display in the market-place?        
Yes. This is Puritan Boston, where private wrongdoing is public             
business.)                                                                  
  The woman has been brought to the scaffold for an ordeal of shaming,      
an ordeal she endures with stubborn pride. She does not drop her gaze,      
but instead responds to the angry stares of the crowd with quiet            
defiance.                                                                   
  In her arms, the woman carries an infant, one emblem of her sin. And      
on her breast, she wears another: a scarlet letter A (for Adulteress),      
intended by the magistrates to be a badge of shame, but already the         
subject of curious speculation.                                             
  On a nearby balcony, seated in a place of honor among the judges, is      
the woman's lover, the man who is supposed to be standing on the            
scaffold by her side. And on the outskirts of the crowd an                  
interested observer, the woman's secret husband, watches, his keen          
eyes searching for his rival, his thoughts already turned to revenge.       
  It is a scene fraught with tension, brimming with possibilities.          
Let's explore some of them further.                                         
  In this first encounter in the market-place, the young woman, Hester      
Prynne, and the Puritan community are in fierce if silent conflict.         
They take the measures of one another. They bring into play opposing        
values.                                                                     
  On the one side is a woman who has violated a strict social and           
religious code, but who has sinned (if indeed, she has sinned) in an        
affirmation of love and life. On the other side is a grim and               
forbidding crowd which seems, nonetheless, to possess a certain degree      
of dignity and authority.                                                   
  You will have to determine which side claims your sympathy- and           
Hawthorne's. The choice is not as cut-and-dried as it seems.                
  Let's take a closer look at the Puritan spectators waiting by the         
scaffold with such apparent eagerness to condemn one of their               
number. The severe expression on their faces, Hawthorne tells us,           
would be better suited to greet an infamous murderer (a Jack the            
Ripper, say) than an adulteress. He quickly adds, however, that this        
stern and unbending crowd would glower just as fiercely at a                
mischievous child brought before the magistrates for whipping.              
  We quickly sense in these Puritans a lack not only of sympathy but        
of discrimination. In their eyes, all crimes are equally                    
reprehensible. And all criminals are to be treated with the full rigor      
of the law.                                                                 
  What about mercy? we wonder. What about that injunction not to            
cast the first stone? Not for this crowd. They can be downright             
bloodthirsty, especially the women. One hard-faced matron suggests          
branding Hester Prynne's forehead with a hot iron as a more                 
appropriate punishment than the wearing of the scarlet letter. And a        
second woman goes further, calling for the death penalty.                   
  It is tempting, when we hear such talk, to dismiss these Puritans as      
hard-hearted fanatics, to sense beneath their severity a strain of          
bigotry, and to cheerfully consign them to the hell they so                 
fervently believed in.                                                      
  It is tempting, but it is probably premature.                             
  If we read this chapter carefully, we will see a more measured            
assessment on Hawthorne's part. Time and again, we find the author          
treating the Puritans like a coin of doubtful value that he turns over      
and over in his hand. If one side of the coin comes up dross, the           
other has gleams of real gold.                                              
  Let us turn now to the subject of all this unflattering attention,        
to Hester Prynne herself. She makes a striking contrast to the grim,        
joyless crowd of spectators. She walks into their midst with a              
radiance undimmed by her stay in prison. She carries herself with a         
stately, natural grace.                                                     
  Hester is beautiful, of course. And her rich, deep complexion and         
her glossy black hair suggest a sensuality that- given the occasion-        
must have struck the self-righteous bystanders as a slap in the face.       
  Her first gesture on leaving the prison shows extraordinary dignity.      
Repelling the arm of the beadle (a minor town official), Hester             
steps of her own free will into the open air. It is the move of a           
woman who, even in the hands of the law, chooses to be seen in control      
of her own destiny.                                                         
  Under the pressure of the moment, a lesser woman might have burst         
into tears or appealed for mercy, welcome signs to the magistrates, at      
least, of a lost sheep eager to return to the fold. But all these           
Puritan worthies get from Hester Prynne is a "burning blush," together      
with a haughty smile and a glance that refuses to falter in shame.          
  Hester does not speak. To get at her in this crucial moment of her        
life, we have to read the signs: her expression, where pride                
predominates in a mixture of emotions; her clothing, rich beyond the        
allowance of the colony's laws; and the scarlet letter, sewn by Hester      
in prison and worn this day by order of the Governor and the                
ministers.                                                                  
  And what a letter it is! Made not out of simple red flannel used for      
colds and rheumatism, as one irate woman observes, but elaborately          
embroidered with threads of gold. A badge of shame that looks more          
like a sign of defiance, thrown in the magistrates' teeth.                  
  What are we to make of that letter? And its wearer, with her beauty,      
her daring, and her pride? Is Hester magnificent, a woman bravely           
standing up to unwarranted punishment? Or is she outrageous, flaunting      
her shame in the community's face?                                          
  Whatever she is, she is extraordinary, as she stands there on the         
scaffold, the focus of all eyes. And we are compelled to wonder what        
has brought her to this pass. Hawthorne obliges us with a few precious      
clues about Hester's past.                                                  
  She is the daughter of impoverished English gentry, wed as a girl to      
an old, misshapen scholar who spent his days poring over dusty              
books. Sent on ahead of her husband to the New World, she found             
herself neither widow nor wife in a rugged frontier community where         
a woman alone had no place and no life. When we first encounter             
Hester, she has spent two years waiting for a man who may never             
come, a man whose arrival, in any case, cannot be welcome to her.           
                                                                            
CHAPTER_3                                                                   
                      CHAPTER 3: THE RECOGNITION                            
-                                                                           
  As Hester Prynne stands on the scaffold, thinking of her husband, he      
appears before her startled eyes at the edge of the crowd. And his          
first gesture is indicative of the man. Whatever shock or dismay he         
may feel at seeing his wife on the scaffold, the object of public           
reproof, another man's child in her arms, he immediately suppresses         
his emotions and makes his face the image of calm.                          
  By the time Hester's eyes meet his own, he has plotted his course of      
action. His plans demand secrecy. He indicates as much, and no more,        
to his wife by raising a finger to his lips.                                
  What kind of man is this who can face the desecration of his home,        
the stain on his own honor (the 17th century was not kind to the men        
it called cuckolds) with hardly a raised eyebrow? Hawthorne gives us        
some clues in Chillingworth's face.                                         
  The glance he bends on Hester Prynne is keen and penetrative. Here        
is someone used to observing life rather than participating in it. His      
is a "furrowed visage," a face lined with years of thought and study        
by dim candle light. Chillingworth looks like a man who has cultivated      
his mind at the expense of an other faculties- a perilous                   
enterprise, in Hawthorne's view. Where his overbearing intellect            
will take him, we will see in later chapters.                               
  Chillingworth's finger raised to his lips, commanding Hester's            
silence, begins a pattern of secrecy that is the mainspring of the          
novel's plot.                                                               
  Even as we meet Chillingworth, he goes underground. He assumes total      
ignorance of Hester and her situation. He takes on a new identity,          
that of a recently arrived physician, seeking the shelter of                
civilization after a stay among the savages.                                
  As Chillingworth's conversation with the townsman indicates, he will      
use his new position to solve the mystery that confronts him: the           
identity of his wife's lover. (Hawthorne did not know the word, but         
perhaps he would not object to our thinking of Chillingworth, in the        
language of modern espionage novels, as a "mole," or long-term              
secret agent.)                                                              
  We now have two characters in hiding, a concealed husband and a           
concealed lover, the one gone into hiding to ferret out the other.          
We are hearing a lot of proud talk in this market-place about the           
godly colony of Massachusetts, where "iniquity is dragged out into the      
sunshine." But we should note that, so far, something pretty                
sinister is doing a good job of keeping itself under wraps.                 
  The magistrates now address this question of hidden evil in their         
own fashion. Turning to Hester Prynne, they attempt to prevail upon         
her to reveal the name of her partner in sin.                               
  In a ringing voice that echoes through the crowd, the Reverend            
John Wilson, religious head of the colony, calls upon the adulteress        
to forego her "hardness and obstinacy" and identify the man who led         
her into error. But encountering only silence, Wilson admits defeat.        
He turns to Arthur Dimmesdale to second his appeal.                         
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Wilson's urging of Hester Prynne is not merely investigative        
police work. In the Puritan scheme of things, Hester is a lost soul         
whose only hope of salvation lies in sincere and thorough                   
repentance. Confession, in Wilson's own words, would be the "proof" of      
repentance, and the "consequence thereof." If Hester were truly             
sorry for her fault, she would not hesitate to put her lover, along         
with herself, on the path of open contrition.                               
  Well, it is a sticky moral point, this business of naming names. The      
great Salem witch hunt was shortly to come, when men and women would        
be asked to prove the pristine cleanliness of their souls by soiling        
the reputations of their friends and loved ones. In later chapters,         
Hawthorne will skirt the issue, sensibly enough, by putting the onus        
of confession where it belongs. It is not up to Hester Prynne to            
name her lover; the man should come forward himself.                        
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Wilson's words turn our attention to Arthur Dimmesdale, seated on         
the balcony with the magistrates, but somehow apart from the rest.          
Dimmesdale is younger than the men who surround him, and softer.            
Against the icy sternness of the Puritan elders, he appears, if             
anything, too sensitive. There is a frightened look about the eyes,         
a certain trembling of the mouth.                                           
  The magistrates, we note, are men of action. Dimmesdale is a              
scholar, fresh from the great English universities. He is not at            
home in the market-place. He prefers the seclusion of his study. Right      
now, he would give a lot to be at home with his books.                      
  The minister seems to be frankly troubled to be witness to this           
spectacle at all. His presence has been required; it has not been a         
matter of choice. His intervention in the proceedings is also               
involuntary. He speaks to Hester Prynne only at Wilson's insistence.        
  Dimmesdale's appeal to Hester is quieter than Wilson's and far            
less self-assured. His call for confession is conditional; it leaves        
some freedom of choice. "If thou feelest it to be for thy soul's            
peace," he tells Hester, "I charge thee to speak out the name of thy        
fellow sinner."                                                             
  Dimmesdale's arguments are also more personal than Wilson's,              
presumably closer to the heart of a woman in love. He urges Hester          
to confess for her lover's own good. She should not be silent out of        
misguided pity or affection. "Take heed how thou deniest to him-            
who, perchance, hath not the courage to grasp it for himself- the           
bitter, but wholesome, cup that is now presented to thy lips."              
  It is a moving appeal, a compelling line of reasoning, and a totally      
amazing speech, once we realize that Dimmesdale is talking against          
himself.                                                                    
  Every word the minister utters is charged with double meaning.            
Each inflection of his voice has one significance for the crowd of          
spectators, another for Hester Prynne who alone knows that                  
Dimmesdale himself is the man the magistrates so urgently seek.             
  Dimmesdale is in a tight corner, one of the tightest in which a           
man of the cloth can find himself. He is a public official, under           
orders to elicit Hester's confession. He is also the private lover who      
benefits from her silence. As Hester's pastor, Dimmesdale has a             
moral obligation to seek the salvation of her soul. But as a man            
with a lot to lose, his interests lie in her continued resistance to        
religious authority.                                                        
  Do you think Dimmesdale is sincere- or self-serving- in this plea he      
makes to Hester Prynne? It isn't easy to decide. Part of Dimmesdale         
seems truly to envy Hester the comparative luck of an open shame.           
But the deadly irony of his position takes much of the force and            
fire from his words.                                                        
  Hester- either in accordance with or in opposition to her lover's         
real wishes- maintains her silence. Her refusal to speak gives us an        
opportunity to measure her generosity of spirit.                            
  Another woman, exhibited for hours on the scaffold and left alone to      
bear the burden of public shame, might have decided, humanly enough,        
that two could bear the burden better than one. But Hester lifts the        
entire load onto her own strong shoulders. Looking straight into            
Dimmesdale's troubled eyes, she says, "Would that I might endure his        
agony as well as my own."                                                   
  Dimmesdale, who should know, takes her silence for love. But we           
may sense, as well, an element of scorn in Hester's defiance of her         
judges. Wilson, who should have read her character better, makes her        
an offer that is little short of a bribe. If she names her lover to         
the authorities, they will consider a reversal of sentence. Confession      
may remove the scarlet letter from her breast.                              
  Hester has understood, better than the magistrates, the meaning of        
the badge of shame they have forced upon her. For the first time            
(but not the last) in the novel, she claims the letter for her own,         
clutching it to herself with a mixture of pride and despair.                
"Never!" she answers Wilson, "The letter is too deeply branded. Ye          
cannot take it off."                                                        
  She will forget that truth only once in her life, at an enormous          
cost.                                                                       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_4                                                                   
                       CHAPTER 4: THE INTERVIEW                             
-                                                                           
  "The Interview" brings together the estranged husband and wife in         
the comparative privacy of the Boston prison. Chillingworth has come        
to the prison in his role of physician, sent for by the jailor who can      
no longer control his overwrought charges, Hester and Pearl.                
(Chillingworth, as we shall see, always manages to be sent for. It          
is part and parcel of his cleverness never to simply arrive.)               
  When Hester sees Chillingworth, she becomes as still as death. Her        
heart leaps into her throat. Hester has steeled herself to bear the         
day's trials, but her husband's unlooked-for arrival throws her             
completely off base.                                                        
  Hester's bravado, which carried her through the ordeal in the             
market-place, deserts her now. She can barely look Chillingworth in         
the face. She feels all the shame and terror she never felt before the      
magistrates. This man has a right to punish her, perhaps even to            
take her life.                                                              
  Hester, in fact, believes that Chillingworth has come to the              
prison with murder in his heart. When the physician hands her a             
draught of medicine to calm her down, Hester visibly hesitates,             
wondering if there is poison in the cup.                                    
  Poison? Don't be silly, Chillingworth replies. He adds that, if he        
wanted revenge, there were better, subtler ways than poison. After          
all, Chillingworth asks Hester, when have his purposes ever been "so        
shallow"?                                                                   
  Kind actions. Deep and subtle purposes. There is apparently a big         
difference between what Chillingworth does and what he means. What          
he does in this scene is just what we would expect of a skilled and         
kindly physician. He soothes Hester and her child with calming              
potions, quite possibly saving the infant's life. (In doing so,             
Chillingworth accomplishes what no other man in Boston is equipped          
to do. He has come to the prison with Sagamore remedies, medicines          
he has forced the New World to yield to his inquiring mind.)                
  And Chillingworth goes beyond the relief of physical suffering.           
For one brief moment, he offers Hester a fair measure of                    
understanding. The ill-used husband takes on himself a share of the         
blame for his wife's downfall. "It was my folly, and thy weakness. I,-      
a man of thought,- the bookworm of great libraries,- a man already          
in decay,- what had I to do with youth and beauty like thine own!"          
  Yes, it was folly, especially in a scholar like himself. Surely he        
had read enough about December-May marriages to have foreseen the           
disastrous ending of his own. Men called him wise, but wise he clearly      
was not. And here they both were, with this grievous mess on their          
hands.                                                                      
  What have we here? A self-aware human being? A man, among all             
these self-righteous Puritans, capable of seeing life not in black and      
white but in various shades of gray. It is a fascinating glimpse of         
a character that might have been, a Chillingworth who might have            
commanded our respect, if not our sympathy.                                 
  But it is only a glimpse, and then Hawthorne shuts the door. We           
are left, instead, with a villainous thing whose fingers scorch             
Hester's flesh as they brush the scarlet letter, and whose glowing          
eyes threaten to read the secrets of her innermost soul.                    
  All this demonic imagery is a sign of evil intent, for                    
Chillingworth's real purpose is coming to the fore. He is planning          
revenge, though not against Hester. It is her lover he seeks.               
Chillingworth has come to the prison to ask the man's name. Does            
Hester refuse it? No matter. The man shall be his in any case. His for      
some unspeakable form of revenge: not murder, not dishonor,                 
something worse.                                                            
  Somewhere along the line, Chillingworth has crossed a boundary. He        
is not in the human realm any more, but in the demonic sphere of            
soul possession. Hester senses it. She says, underscoring the split in      
Chillingworth we have felt all along. "Thy acts are like mercy, but         
thy words interpret thee as a terror!"                                      
  A terror he is indeed. Why then does Hester promise Chillingworth         
the shield of her silence? Perhaps guilt comes into play.                   
Chillingworth is asking to be spared the dishonor of a cuckold, and         
Hester feels she owes him at least this much. Perhaps fatigue also          
plays a part. Hester is no match for Chillingworth after the                
turmoils of the day.                                                        
  But Hester's main motive is to spare her lover the scaffold. She has      
no doubt that Chillingworth will ferret him out. And Chillingworth has      
threatened, should Hester reveal his secret, that her lover's name and      
reputation will be forfeit.                                                 
  "I will keep thy secret, as I have his," Hester swears to                 
Chillingworth.                                                              
  Nonetheless, Hester has qualms. Having given her word, she wonders        
if she has been lured into a pact with the devil that will prove the        
ruination of her soul.                                                      
  "Not thy soul," Chillingworth answers, implying that another soul         
than Hester's will be damned. Chillingworth means the soul of Hester's      
lover, but, as we shall see, it turns out to be his own.                    
                                                                            
CHAPTER_5                                                                   
                   CHAPTER 5: HESTER AT HER NEEDLE                          
-                                                                           
  For Hester's violation of the Puritan code, the magistrates               
inflict two punishments: first, the hours of shame on the scaffold;         
and second, the life-long burden of the scarlet letter.                     
  In this chapter, Hawthorne turns to the long, gray years following        
the turbulent scene in the market-place. Do the years show us a             
different Hester Prynne?                                                    
  Many readers of The Scarlet Letter see the start of a great change        
in Hester, a move away from the fierce defiance of the opening              
chapters towards a growing acceptance of her fate. As evidence of a         
new softness and contrition, they point to:                                 
-                                                                           
  1. HESTER'S DECISION TO REMAIN IN PURITAN BOSTON  She might,              
Hawthorne tells us, have left the narrow-minded colony to start life        
all over again in a place where no one knew her story. The sea leads        
back to England or, for a woman of Hester's strength, the track             
leads onward into the wilderness. But Hester turns her back on these        
escape routes. She stays in the settlement, shackled, as if by an iron      
chain of guilt, to the scene of her crime and punishment.                   
  2. HESTER'S SEDATE APPEARANCE  Hester has changed the rich                
clothing of the scaffold scene for a modest, nondescript dress. In her      
rejection of finery, she is more severe than her Puritan neighbors,         
who employ Hester's needle for such occasional luxuries as christening      
robes and gorgeously embroidered gloves.                                    
  3. HESTER'S CHARITY TO THE POOR  Hester uses her spare hours not for      
the detailed work she loves, but in the making of coarse garments           
for the colony's indigent. It is an act of penance for which she            
gets small thanks. The poor receive her gifts with insults.                 
-                                                                           
  Hester now moves quietly and usefully through the community,              
bowing her head as indignities are heaped upon it. Have we a newly          
chastened woman? Some readers think so. Yet others question just how        
deeply Hester has been stained with the Puritan dye and imbued with         
the Puritans' somber vision of life. They see hints of the old fire,        
that inflammable mixture of passion, recklessness, and despair. They        
argue:                                                                      
-                                                                           
  1. Hester has chosen to stay in the Puritan settlement for a              
reason she dares not admit, even to herself: the man she loves is           
there. Here is the tie she feels to Boston, an unblessed union to be        
recognized in the next world, if not in this one.                           
  2. Hester subdues her taste for the beautiful out of a guilty             
conscience. She knows all is not well with herself, so she has come to      
reject as sin all that she finds natural or pleasurable. The sewing of      
beautiful things would be innocent enough outlet for the sensuous           
streak in her nature. But she denies herself innocent outlets, only to      
bottle up feelings that will one day explode.                               
  3. Hester's acts of charity are a camouflage for anger and                
bitterness. Though she sews for the poor, she wishes them to the            
devil. She may show outward patience when insulted and abused, but          
inwardly she is stung to the quick.                                         
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: With her consummate skill as a seamstress and her taste for         
the gorgeously beautiful, Hester is an artist. Or the nearest thing to      
an artist that Puritan New England allows. In this capacity, at least,      
she has Hawthorne's full sympathy. An artist himself, Hawthorne has         
suffered imaginary, but painful, reprimands from his Puritan                
forebears. He knows, and wrestles, with the fact that his work is at        
best trivial, at worst dangerous, in their eyes. (See "The Custom           
House.")                                                                    
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Perhaps we can sense a struggle in Hester Prynne to define her new        
relations with the society she has offended. Once she engaged the           
Puritan world in head-to-head combat. Now the conflict has moved            
within herself.                                                             
  We can learn a lot from Hester's choice of a home. She moves into         
a small cottage on the outskirts of town. She lives not within              
shouting distance of her neighbors, but still within the boundaries         
that define the settlement.                                                 
  It is a narrow foothold that Hester maintains in a community that         
offers her no support or human warmth, but that does not entirely cast      
her off.                                                                    
                                                                            
CHAPTER_6                                                                   
                           CHAPTER 6: PEARL                                 
-                                                                           
  This chapter introduces us to the most problematic character in           
The Scarlet Letter. Pearl is half child, half literary symbol. And          
to many readers, she is no child at all.                                    
  You will have to decide for yourself how successful Pearl is as a         
literary creation. Does she seem to you a living, breathing being,          
or a cardboard figure, stiff and unreal?                                    
  One thing is certain. In appearance and temperament Pearl reflects        
her origin. The product of a broken rule, she will not obey rules           
herself. Born of a runaway passion, she has a wild and stormy nature.       
  Pearl's high coloring and warm complexion are the gifts of her            
mother. They also suggest the fiery state of Hester's emotions              
during her term of imprisonment.                                            
  To some extent, Pearl reflects the common folk wisdom that                
love-children are more beautiful and more passionate than the issue of      
a stale marriage bed. But the matter goes deeper than that.                 
  Pearl's uncontrolled rages at her Puritan peers- priggish little          
brats that they are- and the hostile playmates she invents with her         
fertile imagination, express her sense of alienation, her                   
recognition that she is an outcast's child.                                 
  With her outbursts of temper, Pearl is a constant reproach to Hester      
for bringing an innocent being into an adverse world. She is a              
reminder of the far-reaching, unthought-of consequences of sin. But         
nothing that Pearl does causes Hester so much anguish as the child's        
uncanny fascination with the scarlet letter.                                
  The letter is the first object of Pearl's consciousness. As her           
infant hands reach for the threads of red and gold her face takes on a      
knowing smile, "a decided gleam." The letter is the subject of her          
play. She makes it a target for a barrage of flowers which she hurls        
at her mother, jumping up and down with glee, each time a missile hits      
home.                                                                       
  Does Pearl understand what she is doing? Does she realize what the        
letter means? Hawthorne doesn't say, though Hester half humorously,         
half despairingly, credits her child with preternatural (more than          
natural) intelligence.                                                      
  The effect of Pearl's behavior, whatever the cause, is to keep            
Hester's sense of shame fresh and acute. The wound is not allowed to        
heal. Even in the privacy of her cottage, away from the prying eyes of      
the community, Hester is not for a moment safe.                             
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: There are many suggestions in this chapter and the following        
ones, that Pearl is not a human child. Her light, eerie laughter            
reminds Hester of an elf. At times, an imp or a demon looks out of          
Pearl's eyes. Governor Bellingham will say that the child has               
witchcraft in her. And some people in the colony call Pearl the             
devil's offspring.                                                          
  This method of characterization, by multiple suggestions, is used         
often in the novel. But Hawthorne is up to something rather special in      
Pearl's case.                                                               
  He wants to take Pearl out of the ordinary human realm- the dark          
Puritan world of guilt and sorrow- and present the child to us against      
the rich and colorful backdrop of nature.                                   
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_7                                                                   
                    CHAPTER 7: THE GOVERNOR'S HALL                          
-                                                                           
  "The Governor's Hall" contains one of the most detailed and fully         
realized settings in The Scarlet Letter. To write it, Hawthorne had to      
do his homework, in-depth historical research.                              
  There really was a Governor Bellingham in mid-17th-century Boston.        
Hawthorne found an accurate description of his home in one of the most      
creditable books on the period, Snow's History of Boston.                   
  What Snow gave Hawthorne was an altogether prosaic description of         
a wooden house covered with plaster. The plaster was dotted with            
bits of broken glass from common junk bottles. There were also              
drawings on it of squares, diamonds, and fleur-de-lis.                      
  If you turn to Hawthorne's description in paragraph nine, you may         
get some clues as to how his creative imagination works. (The               
paragraph begins, "Without further adventure, they reached the              
dwelling of Governor Bellingham.")                                          
  Hawthorne has taken the house he found in Snow, and he's romanced         
it. The broken junk bottles have become fistfuls of diamonds. The           
humdrum tracings in the plaster are now cabalistic (secret and mystic)      
messages. Instead of a local relic, we have a palace from Arabian           
Nights.                                                                     
  The hint of oriental magnificence is admittedly playful. More             
serious, is the double historical perspective from which Hawthorne          
observes the house. He stands with one foot in the 17th, one foot in        
the 19th, century.                                                          
  He describes the house first, as if it were right there before            
him, a 200-year-old mansion. And then he imaginatively strips it of         
the accretions of time- the moss, the dust, the emotional residue of        
lives- to show us the house as it was in 1640, sparkling, clean, and        
new.                                                                        
  Inside the mansion, the Chronicles of England lies open on the            
window seat, as if someone has been called away in the middle of a          
page. A large pewter tankard has a foamy bit of ale in it, as if            
someone has just taken a draught and put it down. A suit of armor,          
fresh from the London armorer, stands polished and ready for use,           
not for show.                                                               
  The whole effect is like walking into the preserved home of a famous      
historical figure and watching what we thought was a museum spring          
magically to life.                                                          
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: The armor in Bellingham's hall has a second purpose. It is a        
distorted mirror that magnifies the scarlet letter on Hester's dress        
and diminishes the woman who wears it. Here, in the Governor's              
mansion, at the heart of the Puritan establishment, Hester Prynne, the      
individual, vanishes behind the symbol of her shame.                        
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Hester has come to Bellingham's home, disturbed by rumors of a            
movement afoot to take Pearl away from her. The leaders of the              
community, the Governor chief among them, have decided that the             
child's welfare would be better served if she were placed in                
worthier hands.                                                             
  Hester arrives determined to fight for her rights as a mother. But        
the outfit in which she has clothed Pearl is a doubtful argument in         
her favor.                                                                  
  Pearl wears a crimson velvet tunic, embroidered with gold. It is, to      
put it mildly, an outlandish costume in a society where black and gray      
are the going colors. Bellingham will find in the child's outfit all        
the more reason to place Pearl in a home where she will be "soberly         
clad."                                                                      
  Why has Hester dressed her daughter so peculiarly? Just in case we        
miss the point, Hawthorne makes it explicit. Pearl is the scarlet           
letter "come to life." Hester has lavished all her skill as a               
seamstress on a dress that points out the likeness between the two          
emblems of her sin.                                                         
                                                                            
CHAPTER_8                                                                   
              CHAPTER 8: THE ELF-CHILD AND THE MINISTER                     
-                                                                           
  We come, in this chapter, to a second contest between Hester              
Prynne and the magistrates, this time over Pearl. Hester is so              
strong in her sense of natural right- the right of a mother to her          
child- that she seems almost a match for these stern and rigorous           
law makers. Almost.                                                         
  At the first sight of Pearl, the magistrates gathered in the              
Governor's hall are taken aback. They don't know what to make of the        
high-spirited child. In her red velvet tunic, Pearl seems to them like      
an apparition from another- and an older and gayer- world.                  
  She reminds Wilson of the glowing reflections cast by the stained         
glass windows of the high Gothic cathedrals in Europe. And she recalls      
to Bellingham the unruly children of the English court theatricals.         
(Neither association is flattering. The Puritans in England wrecked         
the ornate churches and closed down the theatres in the belief that         
luxuriant art and bawdy drama alike corrupt the soul.)                      
  The old men are kindly to Pearl, but clearly disapproving. When           
the child fails to recite her catechism properly, they consider the         
question of Hester's continued custody to be closed. Pearl will be          
taken from her mother.                                                      
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: When Reverend Wilson asks Pearl, "Who made thee?" the child         
replies that she was plucked by her mother off the wild rosebush            
that grows by the prison door.                                              
  Though Hawthorne suggests a realistic explanation for Pearl's answer      
(her response was triggered by the red roses in the Governor's              
garden), he clearly wants us to perceive a kinship between Pearl and a      
wild thing in nature. Like the rosebush, Pearl is exempt from rules         
and regulations. She flourishes outside the realm of human law.             
  Bellingham and Wilson are understandably shocked by Pearl's reply,        
which shows an apparent lack of religious training. But they are            
somewhat less shocked than they would be if they could read its full        
meaning (the full extent, that is, of Pearl's claim to freedom).            
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  In their decision to put Pearl in a proper, God-fearing home, the         
Governor and Wilson have not reckoned with Hester Prynne. The mother        
is prepared to fight like a lioness for her cub. Clutching Pearl            
tightly in her arms, Hester cries out her defiance. They shall not          
take Pearl from her. She will die first.                                    
  Hester's entreaties, however, fall on deaf ears. She turns in             
desperation to her one possible source of help. She has spied, in           
Arthur Dimmesdale, a potential ally in the enemy camp.                      
  Hester has sensed Dimmesdale's presence all along, though she has         
not acknowledged it until now. Probably she would leave him out of the      
quarrel, if she could. (She has never cashed in on their former             
intimacy to ask the minister for favors.) But she cannot afford that        
luxury at the moment. Having little choice, she turns to the clergyman      
with a "wild and singular" appeal. It is, in fact, less an appeal than      
an ultimatum.                                                               
-                                                                           
  'Speak for me! Thou knowest- for thou hast sympathies which these         
men lack- thou knowest what is in my heart, and what are a mother's         
rights, and how much the stronger they are, when that mother has but        
her child and the scarlet letter! Look thou to it! I will not lose the      
child! Look to it!'                                                         
-                                                                           
  Here is the second private exchange between Hester Prynne and Arthur      
Dimmesdale that has taken place in full view of an uncomprehending          
audience. Hester is addressing Dimmesdale, of course, not as her            
pastor, but as the unnamed father of her child.                             
  Although she does not explicitly threaten to give Dimmesdale away,        
the implication is there. Don't drive me too far, she is saying, or         
who knows what I'll do. Her words remind the minister of the sacrifice      
she has made to keep him in a position of influence. He had better use      
that influence to help her now.                                             
  (Is this the same Hester Prynne who promised Dimmesdale her               
silence from the scaffold and who has protected him from exposure           
for so long? The fact that Hester is willing to threaten the                
minister now suggests that nothing- not her pride or her generosity-        
matter to her as much as Pearl.)                                            
  Dimmesdale, honestly moved by Hester's distress and perhaps just          
as honestly frightened by her implied threats, comes forward to             
intervene on her behalf.                                                    
  Dimmesdale succeeds in swaying Bellingham and Wilson where Hester         
has failed. In part, he uses Hester's arguments and lends them-             
suspect as they are in her mouth- the force of his moral authority. He      
speaks of the solemn miracle of Pearl's existence. The child, he says,      
is a gift from God, meant for a blessing and retribution, too. Because      
Hester loves Pearl so dearly, he implies, the child can touch her           
mother's heart with an agony far more exquisite than any inflicted          
by the scarlet letter. (Pearl is doing the job you wanted done, he          
might almost have told them. Let it be.)                                    
  So much Hester has said herself. But Dimmesdale sees further. He          
recognizes that Pearl is Hester's one remaining link with humanity,         
a responsibility that will save her from the reckless actions to which      
she might be tempted as an outcast from society.                            
  Dimmesdale's belief is quickly vindicated by a strange interview          
between Hester and Mistress Hibbins, the Governor's sister, a woman         
suspected by Puritan Boston (and herself) of being a witch. Mistress        
Hibbins invites Hester to dance in the forest that night. And Hester        
declines, saying she must stay at home and watch over Pearl.                
                                                                            
CHAPTER_9                                                                   
                         CHAPTER 9: THE LEECH                               
-                                                                           
  If you look up the word leech in the dictionary, you will find the        
meaning you expect: a blood-sucking insect. But you will also find          
an archaic meaning, that of physician. In past centuries doctors            
were known as leeches because of their common practice of bleeding          
patients. (It was thought to rid the body of bad humors.)                   
  The title of this chapter is characteristically ambiguous. It             
points, on the one hand, to Chillingworth's newly assumed career as         
a doctor, and, on the other hand, to his role as emotional parasite.        
He is now a man who lives off another's suffering. Like                     
Chillingworth himself, the title has a surface meaning as well as a         
deeper one.                                                                 
  Let's look at the surface meaning for a moment. As a doctor,              
Chillingworth is entirely convincing. His professional manners are          
impeccable. He does not seek Dimmesdale out aggressively. He                
approaches the clergyman by way of the upper echelons of the ministry,      
leaving it to what we would call the church's board of directors to         
recommend his services.                                                     
  Chillingworth is courteous and self-effacing. His overtures to his        
reluctant patient are low-key. When Dimmesdale, denying his need for a      
doctor's care, says that he would be well content to die if it were         
God's will, Chillingworth is quick to attribute to the minister only        
the best, and least personal, of motives. "'Ah... it is thus that a         
young clergyman is apt to speak... saintly men, who walk with God on        
earth, would fain be away, to walk with Him on the golden pavements of      
the New Jerusalem.'"                                                        
  Such comments are ingenious. They reflect the community's                 
reverence for Dimmesdale, and so keep the minister off guard. But they      
also offer just that hint of overpiety that cuts the grounds for            
objecting to medical care from under Dimmesdale's feet. (If Dimmesdale      
is in such a hurry to die, Chillingworth is suggesting, he must be          
awfully sure of a place in a better world.)                                 
  By such careful handling of Dimmesdale, Chillingworth maneuvers           
himself into the position of intimate friend and constant attendant.        
He becomes a sounding board for the minister's ideas, a recipient of        
confidences- medical and otherwise. He hears Dimmesdale's thoughts          
as they pass all but uncensored from his lips.                              
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: We can learn a lot from Dimmesdale's initial reaction to            
Chillingworth. The minister is, at first, fascinated by the breadth of      
the physician's mind. Though orthodox himself, Dimmesdale has a             
sneaking fondness for radical ideas in others. In the stuffy                
intellectual atmosphere of Boston, he has had no such stimulation           
for a long time. Perhaps we can see what originally attracted him to        
Hester Prynne. Here was one woman, among a hundred dull and                 
strait-laced girls, who dared to think for herself.                         
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  If you think you spy in Chillingworth the familiar outline of a           
modern psychiatrist, you are perceptive- and half right. There was          
no science of psychiatry in Hawthorne's day, but Chillingworth casts        
on the wall the shadow of things to come.                                   
  Hawthorne knew what could happen if a doctor attuned his mind to a        
patient's, listened quietly to his revelations, registered no shock or      
surprise at his thoughts, however monstrous. He knew, and he found          
such cold scrutiny repulsive.                                               
  Perhaps a benign motive on the physician's part would redeem such         
investigative procedures. But Chillingworth's motives, as we know, are      
entirely malevolent.                                                        
  Chillingworth is guilty of more than a betrayal of friendship or          
an abuse of a doctor's privilege. He is trespassing on holy ground,         
entering with irreverent curiosity the sacred precincts of another          
man's soul.                                                                 
  He is also shoveling away all of Dimmesdale's virtues to find the         
lode of evil he suspects. And while he is digging, he begins to show        
signs of getting dirty. Rumors are rife in Boston. Popular opinion,         
which first proclaimed the doctor's arrival a miracle, now has taken a      
different turn. The fires in Chillingworth's laboratory are said to be      
fed with infernal fuel, and his face is getting dark and grimy from         
the smoke.                                                                  
  You can accept popular opinion. You can view Chillingworth as an          
arch villain or even a fiend. But you also see him as something more        
interesting than that: a man playing a deadly game with his enemy,          
deadly in a way he does not even suspect.                                   
  Chillingworth, after all, has made his own life dependent on              
Dimmesdale's. Revenge is his sole reason to exist. As the title of the      
chapter reminds us, a leech is a parasite that dies along with its          
host.                                                                       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_10                                                                  
                CHAPTER 10: THE LEECH AND HIS PATIENT                       
-                                                                           
  Hawthorne portrays the relationship between Chillingworth and             
Dimmesdale with such intensity, we tend to forget that it covers a          
span of years. Chillingworth has worked with silent caution,                
consolidating his position as Dimmesdale's friend and counselor. The        
doctor now shares the minister's quarters, the better to keep his           
patient under his wing.                                                     
  Perhaps Chillingworth feels sure enough of his position to take some      
calculated risks. We come upon him now as he broaches a dangerous           
and volatile topic: hidden sin.                                             
  The doctor has come in with an ugly weed plucked from a nearby            
graveyard. He tells Dimmesdale that the weed represents some guilty         
secret that was buried with the corpse.                                     
  Dimmesdale takes the bait. In his experience, the minister says, men      
find great comfort in confession. Undoubtedly, the dead man longed          
to tell his secret, but could not do so.                                    
  The discussion is, on the surface, remote, theoretical. But we            
read it with the same feeling of suspense we would experience if we         
were watching the two men wrestle at the edge of a cliff. Will one          
of them, we wonder, lose his balance and fall?                              
  Dimmesdale, with less control, is in graver danger. As Chillingworth      
intends, the discussion is getting to him. The minister begins to           
talk, not about men in general, but about himself. He offers a              
justification for silence that lies close to his heart.                     
  Perhaps men shrink from confession, Dimmesdale says, because once         
they have sullied their reputations, they no longer have a hope of          
redeeming past evil with future good deeds. Confessed sinners put           
themselves beyond the pale of society, where they can no longer             
serve God or their fellow men.                                              
  What do you think of Dimmesdale's argument? Is there truth in what        
he says? Are good intentions a valid reason for presenting a false          
face to the world?                                                          
  Chillingworth dismisses Dimmesdale's reasoning as pure                    
rationalization. Such men deceive themselves, the physician replies.        
If they wish to serve others, let them do so by showing the power of        
conscience in their own lives. "'Wouldst thou have me to believe, O         
wise and pious friend, that a false show can be better- can be more         
for God's glory, or man's welfare- than God's own truth?'"                  
  Here is the other side of the argument, neatly phrased and                
incisively put. A lie is never good, and never leads to good. Do you        
find Chillingworth's argument more convincing than Dimmesdale's?            
Perhaps the minister does, too. And yet, Chillingworth remains unmoved      
by his own words. He is uttering these pious truths only to play on         
Dimmesdale's guilt.                                                         
  It bothers Chillingworth not one iota that he, as much as                 
Dimmesdale, is living a lie.                                                
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: The question of just how to take Chillingworth's statements is      
one we shall encounter often in the novel. The man is evil and              
insidious, yet his words often have the pure, crystal ring of truth.        
Are we to trust Chillingworth's judgments, even though we distrust the      
man? Or to put it another way, are we to take scripture on faith            
when the devil quotes it for his own use?                                   
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  The tense discussion between Dimmesdale and Chillingworth is              
interrupted by the merry laughter of Pearl that comes floating in           
through the window. The child is up to her usual tricks. She is             
playing with the scarlet letter, outlining the red token on Hester's        
dress with burrs that prick less than her own cool indifference. The        
look of pain on Hester's face suggests to Chillingworth a question          
that directly relates to the topic under discussion. Is Hester the          
less miserable because her sin is known, her shame open?                    
  Keep that question in mind. It will reoccur throughout The Scarlet        
Letter, with answers that vary from a firm yes to a tentative maybe.        
Dimmesdale now replies that Hester is comparatively lucky in the            
freedom she has to show her pain. (We remember he has said much the         
same thing in his speech to Hester in the market-place. To the              
minister, the grass always looks greener on Hester's side of the            
fence; that is, until he seriously considers joining her there.)            
  Chillingworth now turns to the subject of Dimmesdale's health. Has        
the minister revealed all the symptoms of his illness? The doctor           
has the physical signs well in hand. But are there spiritual                
disturbances as well, which he should be aware of?                          
  The question touches a raw nerve in Dimmesdale. The storm breaks,         
one that has been brewing since the beginning of the scene. In a rage,      
Dimmesdale turns on Chillingworth. The doctor is out of his                 
province. Earthly physicians have no business meddling with the ills        
of the soul.                                                                
  The two men have reached a critical point in their relationship. For      
a moment, Dimmesdale has seen the malice in Chillingworth's eyes. He        
has recognized his enemy. But he backs down, filled with self-doubt.        
  Chillingworth, too, has had a glimpse of what lies beneath the veil.      
He has penetrated Dimmesdale's reserve and found the streak of passion      
he's always suspected in the man. And he finds something else.              
  Coming upon Dimmesdale in the deep sleep of exhaustion that               
follows this draining scene, Chillingworth thrusts aside a piece of         
cloth that, up to now, has always hidden the minister's chest from          
sight. And he sees- well, you know what he sees: a letter over the          
minister's heart that corresponds to the one on Hester's dress.             
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: In the closing image of Chillingworth- stamping his feet and        
throwing his arms toward the ceiling in joy and wonder at his               
discovery- we have an explicit comparison of the man to the fiend.          
We have come a long way, in a single chapter, from the upright man,         
"calm in temperament, kindly, though not of warm affections," to            
Satan, rejoicing in the damnation of a soul. To a large extent, this        
is the turning point in Hawthorne's portrayal of Chillingworth. The         
devil in him will be in the ascendant from here on.                         
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_11                                                                  
                 CHAPTER 11: THE INTERIOR OF A HEART                        
-                                                                           
  We have been watching a split in Chillingworth between the inner and      
outer man. Now we turn to a similar division in Dimmesdale. This            
chapter explores the widening gap between the saintly minister              
perceived by the community and the abject sinner Dimmesdale knows           
himself to be.                                                              
  The title of the chapter is important. The interior of a heart is         
where reality lies. It is a dark interior in these guilt-stricken           
characters of Hawthorne. The author leads us into the dim recesses          
of the minister's mind, as if he were entering a cavern, bearing a          
torch.                                                                      
  In the gloom, we find despair and self-loathing so extreme, the case      
borders on insanity. Dimmesdale is living a lie. Worse, he is living a      
lie in the sight of a God who knows and loves the truth. As a               
priest, Dimmesdale meant to guide his thoughts and actions by a             
higher, clearer light than other men. But here he is cowering in the        
dark, as if the dark could hide him.                                        
  Dimmesdale's agony is only intensified by the appalling irony of his      
situation. The worse he feels, the better he appears in the eyes of         
his congregation.                                                           
  It's tough to deal with a reward you haven't earned, tough even if        
you aren't a Puritan with a tender conscience. Dimmesdale, remember,        
is not just a Puritan, he's a Puritan minister. And hypocrisy is not        
an occasional fault of his. It's become a way of life.                      
  Dimmesdale grows pale and thin. Why, he's too pure to eat! His            
sermons take on a new and moving note. Ah, the people of Boston think,      
Heaven has chosen their minister for its mouthpiece. Dimmesdale even        
confesses from the pulpit. But his general avowal of sin is so much in      
line with Puritan orthodoxy (a conviction of sin was supposed to be         
the first step towards grace) that the impression of his purity is          
only heightened.                                                            
  Dimmesdale is not even successful at lying to himself. He recognizes      
his vague confessions for the cheats that they are. His                     
self-contempt only increases with every half-hearted attempt he             
makes to set himself                                                        
right.                                                                      
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: The increasing power of Dimmesdale's sermons should perhaps be      
considered separately from the other effects of sin on his life. The        
Scarlet Letter is a book about the wages of sin, and the wages of           
sin can be surprising. In Dimmesdale's case, the immediate                  
experience of guilt and sexuality have given this scholar-recluse           
the necessary common touch. He has come out of his ivory tower and          
down to earth. Sin has put him on a par with his parishioners. As a         
result, he can talk to them instead of down to them.                        
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Dimmesdale now indulges in some morbid forms of penance. He takes up      
fasting and fasts until he faints. He takes a whip to his shoulders         
and beats himself until he bleeds.                                          
  Is this sheer masochism? Perhaps. Some readers believe the                
minister takes a perverse delight in self-torture. But there are other      
possible explanations for Dimmesdale's near-pathological behavior.          
To starve or scourge the sin from his soul would be an easier solution      
than tarnishing the bright image of himself which he sees reflected         
daily in the eyes of his congregants. And there is something else. The      
whips and fasts might give Dimmesdale the chance to feel something          
real again, even if what he feels is only real hunger and real pain.        
  Life for the minister has become increasingly shadowy. Lacking            
substance in himself, he finds substance in nothing. The world no           
longer gives him a handle to grasp. The very objects of his                 
bedchamber- the heavy leather Bible, the thick oak table- have lost         
their heft and solidity. Dimmesdale begins to see through things,           
almost to walk through them, like a ghost.                                  
                                                                            
CHAPTER_12                                                                  
                   CHAPTER 12: THE MINISTER'S VIGIL                         
-                                                                           
  This chapter brings Dimmesdale to the scaffold to stand where Hester      
Prynne has stood, in a frank and open declaration that he is the man        
who belonged by her side seven years before. A frank and open               
declaration, yes. But one made in the middle of the night, when no one      
can see.                                                                    
  Another incomplete act of penance! But Dimmesdale is getting              
closer now. The old fastings and scourgings took place in the               
privacy of his bedroom. This vigil is in the market-place, downtown         
Boston, so to speak. Someone might come along.                              
  Someone does come along, quite a few people, in fact, given the           
lateness of the hour. The first person to pass unsuspectingly by is         
Reverend John Wilson, on his way home from Governor Winthrop's              
deathbed.                                                                   
  Seeing the gleam from Wilson's lantern, Dimmesdale is seized by a         
mad impulse to jest with the old clergyman. "'Come up hither...' he         
nearly calls out, 'and pass a pleasant hour with me!'"                      
  If Dimmesdale had spoken aloud, we can easily believe the sober,          
gray-haired Wilson would have dropped his lantern in astonishment,          
shocked as much by the uncharacteristic joke as by Dimmesdale's             
presence by the pillory.                                                    
  And we are as surprised as Wilson would have been. We hardly know         
what to make of this lurid fit of playfulness, so much at odds with         
Dimmesdale's usual sad manner. Is the minister going mad at last? Or        
is this just a spell of gallows humor, the kind of mood that seizes         
people at moments of great danger and makes them laugh? We can't be         
sure yet. But we should note for future reference the unaccustomed          
energy that buoys Dimmesdale up when, as it seems, the devil is in          
him.                                                                        
  Meanwhile, more visitors intrude upon the minister's privacy. But         
this time, they are welcome. Hester and Pearl, also returning from          
Winthrop's bedside, mount the scaffold at Dimmesdale's pressing             
invitation.                                                                 
  The three figures, outlined against the night sky, make a dim,            
obscure picture, a shadow show of the real scene of confession which        
should take place in daylight. The shadow show is enough for                
Dimmesdale, giving him the first measure of peace he has known in           
years. (Like so many of us, the minister will settle for                    
half-truths, where possible.) But it is not enough for Pearl.               
  Twice the child demands of the minister, will he take her hand and        
her mother's "tomorrow noontide"? On hearing Dimmesdale's reply- no,        
not in the light of this world- Pearl struggles to withdraw her hand        
from the minister's and run away.                                           
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Once again, Pearl is operating on two levels. We can see her        
as a very normal child, an orphan whose persistent questions reflect a      
search for identity. Pearl has found a father or father-figure in           
Dimmesdale. And she resents what she correctly interprets as his            
rejection of her. A fleeting caress in the moonlight is not enough for      
Pearl. She wants to be acknowledged in broad daylight.                      
  We can also see Pearl operating as a symbol, a flesh-and-blood            
counterpart to the scarlet letter. On this level, she has a mission to      
perform in Dimmesdale's life, just as she has in Hester's. She is a         
constant reminder to the minister of a deed not done, a truth not           
admitted.                                                                   
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Pearl's departure is halted by a meteor that floods the night sky         
with an unearthly light. The figures on the scaffold stand illuminated      
now, as if on the Day of Judgment- the minister with his hand over the      
A on his heart, Hester wearing her scarlet A; and Pearl, herself a          
symbol, between them- under a fiercely glowing A in the sky.                
  It is a perfect symbolic tableau, a set piece rather like medieval        
painting where each of the figures has an allegorical meaning. It is a      
perfect symbolic tableau, that is, if there is an A in the sky at all.      
Dimmesdale has read the dull red lines of the letter in the meteor's        
trail, but "another's guilt might have seen another symbol in it."          
  What is Hawthorne up to? Why does he give us a symbol, ring all           
the changes on it, and then say he doesn't mean it? (Or only half           
means it. The sexton, we note, also sees an A in the sky, but he            
interprets the letter as a sign that Winthrop has become an angel.)         
                                                                            
CHAPTER_13                                                                  
                  CHAPTER 13: ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER                        
-                                                                           
  In many ways, "Another View of Hester" picks up where "Hester at Her      
Needle" left off. This second portrait of Hester presents us with many      
of the same questions as the first. How far has Hester traveled on the      
road to repentance? To what extent does she now accept the tenets of        
Puritan religion and law? Have all the years of suffering and good          
works brought about in Hester the change that the magistrates               
originally sought?                                                          
  On the surface, Hester's submission to society has deepened. She          
lives more than ever in conformity with the rigid Puritan code. With        
no reputation to lose, Hester has conducted herself with such               
circumspection that not the busiest gossip in Boston can find a hint        
of scandal to report. Hester's charity to the poor continues, and           
she accepts, without complaint, the ill usage she receives at their         
hands.                                                                      
  What's more, Hester has taken new steps to redeem herself in the          
eyes of God and man. She has become a self-ordained Sister of Mercy.        
Her new role is that of tender and competent nurse to the colony's ill      
and dying.                                                                  
  The scarlet letter has become a sign of Hester's community with           
people in trouble. In households darkened by sorrow, the red token          
glimmers with comfort. A grateful, if fickle, public has invested           
the scarlet letter with a new meaning. The A no longer stands for           
"Adulteress." It now means "Able."                                          
  Had Hester been a Catholic, following the exposure of her guilty          
love she might have entered a cloister and taken the veil. In fact,         
she becomes the nearest thing to a nun that Protestant New England          
allows. She rejects love as firmly as she rejects all other worldly         
pleasures. In the crucible of fire through which she has passed, her        
sensuality seems burned away. With her austere dress and her demure         
cap that hides every strand of rich, luxuriant hair, Hester seems like      
a marble statue, unlikely as stone to seek or return an embrace.            
  It is a cold and joyless woman Hawthorne gives us in this chapter, a      
woman whose life has turned from feeling to thought. An innocent            
enough pastime, you might suppose, compared with the seduction of           
saintly ministers? Not in Puritan Boston. Not on your life!                 
  Condemned as an adulteress, Hester has become a free thinker,             
something far more dangerous in this stuffy, illiberal world. Once she      
was a dissenter, a person who broke with her society over a single          
law. Now she is a heretic, a person who questions the basis of every        
law.                                                                        
  In an earlier chapter of the novel, Hawthorne told us "The                
scaffold of the pillory was a point of view." And so it is. From            
that doubtful eminence, Hester has observed her society and found it        
wanting. She has always possessed a vision of a richer, warmer,             
freer existence than any permitted by the Puritans. And now, she is         
critical, too, of the dismal position that women hold in her world.         
  Are we to see Hester's intellectual independence as a good or bad         
thing? To quarrel with it goes against the American grain. Freedom          
of thought and conscience is the essence of our tradition. We are           
reluctant to deny anyone this first prerogative in life.                    
  And yet, there is another side to the coin of free speculation.           
Someone like Hester, an outcast from society who lives on the edge          
of the wilderness, has no recourse to other minds and ideas, even in        
books. She has nothing to go on but her own rum experience, her             
admittedly distorted view of life. It is possible to argue that even        
the Puritan beliefs- stringent and mean as they are- have more              
validity than Hester's own. (Hawthorne will later say that shame,           
despair, and solitude have been Hester's teachers, and they have            
taught her "much amiss.")                                                   
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Once again, a cultural debate of the 19th century informs           
Hawthorne's fiction. Emerson and the optimists of his party believed        
in intellectual self-reliance to the exclusion of everything else.          
In their eyes, traditional religion was unnecessary, social conformity      
counter-productive. All a person needed to do was to listen                 
attentively to the voice of his or her conscience.                          
  Hawthorne's answer to Emerson, by way of Hester Prynne, was that the      
uninstructed voice of conscience could be misleading. We needed all         
the help we could get from religion, society, history, philosophy, and      
law. A mind in isolation ignored cultural truths at its peril- and          
could turn out to be dead wrong.                                            
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  We should note that Hester's criticism of society ends in                 
speculation and stops short of action. She never becomes a reformer or      
what we might call an advocate of women's liberation. Perhaps you will      
view Hester's silence as a failure of nerve. But to Hawthorne, it is        
clearly a saving grace. His view of women is conservative. He believes      
(wince, if you like) that a woman's proper province is the home and         
not the soapbox. Bad enough that Hester has become an intellectual. He      
will never make her an activist.                                            
  Male chauvinism aside, it is important to realize that we have in         
Hester yet another character with a gap between thought and feeling, a      
split between the inner and outer self. Hester's emotions are crushed,      
or buried deep within her. Her ideas in her society are literally           
unspeakable. As a result, Hester, like Dimmesdale and Chillingworth,        
is leading a double life.                                                   
                                                                            
CHAPTER_14                                                                  
                 CHAPTER 14: HESTER AND THE PHYSICIAN                       
-                                                                           
  The sight of Dimmesdale on the scaffold has given Hester a shock.         
She never knew the minister was so demoralized. She realizes now that,      
by her silence, she has left Dimmesdale far too long under                  
Chillingworth's evil influence. She will seek out her husband to            
prevent what further damage she can.                                        
  Why has Hester never thought of speaking up before? Perhaps               
because she felt a bit resentful toward Dimmesdale. She has imagined        
him in a cozy position of honor and respect, while she was all the          
while suffering disgrace. She realizes now that she has misread the         
man. Clearly Dimmesdale has been suffering, too.                            
  Before you go on with "Hester and the Physician," flip back to            
"The Interview," the earlier confrontation between Hester and               
Chillingworth. You will find that the balance of power has changed.         
The soft creature who could be manipulated by her husband is gone,          
replaced by a woman almost frightening in her strength.                     
  If Hester has grown, Chillingworth has diminished. The years have         
shriveled him up. He stoops now when he walks, and his face has a           
dark, furtive look.                                                         
  Hester, noting the change in her husband, is stricken with guilt.         
She believes Chillingworth's deterioration is, in part, traceable to        
herself.                                                                    
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: You will notice that Hester is willing to shoulder an enormous      
burden of responsibility. She feels guilty about Dimmesdale because         
she has left him, an unknowing victim, in Chillingworth's hands. And        
she feels guilty about Chillingworth because her betrayal of him has        
turned him into a nasty, vindictive man.                                    
  You will have to decide how much of this tragic situation is              
really Hester's fault, and how much of it is due to a weakness in           
Dimmesdale and a lack of mental balance in Chillingworth. In the            
meantime, you should realize that Hester is reaching for                    
responsibility, while Chillingworth is trying to evade it. Much of          
what is said and done in this chapter reflects a very different             
attitude, on the part of these two characters, toward moral                 
accountability.                                                             
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Hester now turns to her purpose. She has given Chillingworth a            
promise of silence that she now regrets. She has left her husband in a      
position to watch Dimmesdale day and night, to poison the minister's        
thoughts, to play on his heartstrings. She will retract that promise        
now.                                                                        
  Chillingworth, at first, denies Hester's accusation. "'What evil          
have I done the man?'" Chillingworth asks. Why, no evil at all. In          
fact, Chillingworth asserts, he has lavished on Dimmesdale medical          
care fit for a king. It is only thanks to the physician's care that         
Dimmesdale is still alive.                                                  
  The argument would be quite convincing, if we didn't know better.         
But we know, and Hester suspects, that Chillingworth has only been          
pretending to minister to Dimmesdale's ailments while in reality            
adding to his distress.                                                     
  Chillingworth now hurries on to reveal his true intentions, to            
make explicit the evil within him, and to pass a rather unexpected          
judgment on himself.                                                        
  Yes, Dimmesdale has suffered, Chillingworth now admits. He has            
suffered hideously, and he has never known why. With monkish                
superstition, he has imagined himself visited by a fiend.                   
-                                                                           
    "Yea, indeed!- he did not err!- there was a fiend at his elbow! A       
  mortal man, with once a human heart, has become a fiend for his           
  especial torment!"                                                        
-                                                                           
  Well, Chillingworth has said it himself, though we may wonder if          
fiends are inclined to label themselves for our convenience. He             
stops in horror at his own words. But the horror leads him not to a         
reversal of his position but to a recommitment to his ugly methods          
of revenge.                                                                 
  Contemplating just how far he has fallen from grace, Chillingworth        
knows there is no turning back. Once he was a decent man, kindly,           
honest, just. But now he is a hellish creature, given over to               
another's torment. Like Macbeth, Chillingworth has waded in evil so         
far that he can't imagine returning to shore. Hester pleads for             
pardon, but her words are thrown back by the winds. Chillingworth is        
too far out to sea to hear.                                                 
  Overwhelmed by a sense of futility, Hester gives way to despair. She      
will not stoop to plead with such a creature as Chillingworth, even         
for Dimmesdale's life. She will do as she must. She will go to the          
minister and reveal her husband's secret, though all the while she          
will expect the worst. "'Do with him as thou wilt! There is no good         
for him,- no good for me,- no good for thee!... There is no path to         
guide us out of this dismal maze!'"                                         
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Hester's cry of despair is worth stopping for, since it is one      
of three significant quotes that occur in the short space of a              
single chapter. All these quotes sound like term paper topics;              
quick, easy summaries of the meaning of The Scarlet Letter.                 
  It is important to remember, under this barrage of aphorisms, that        
we are reading dramatic dialogue. Hester and Chillingworth are both         
speaking out of full hearts and under the pressure of the moment.           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Chillingworth's eyes light up at the sheer magnificence of                
Hester's despair. He feels a thrill of admiration for her capacity          
to look truth so cooly in the face. What a woman, he thinks to              
himself. And he says (it is the second of those significant quotes),        
"'I pity thee, for the good that has been wasted in thy nature."'           
  Once again, Chillingworth seems to hit the nail on the head. His          
words echo within us. They express our fear that Hester has, indeed,        
lived for nothing- for a few weeks of love, perhaps, and then for           
the long years of emptiness.                                                
  Is Hester a waste? Some readers say yes, appalled at the lonely life      
which seems so contrary to her passionate nature. Others say no,            
impressed by the spiritual growth which gives meaning to her                
existence. You will have to draw your own conclusions, remembering          
that it is Chillingworth, no trustworthy critic, who has called Hester      
a waste in the first place.                                                 
  Chillingworth closes the chapter with a moral shrug of the                
shoulders. He cannot change, he will not pardon. For the desperate          
straits in which he, Hester, and Dimmesdale now find themselves, there      
is really no one to blame. It has all been fate, or (here comes that        
third quote) "dark necessity."                                              
  What does Chillingworth mean? He is referring to a dark,                  
fatalistic strain in Puritanism, the idea that we are all damned or         
saved by God, even before we are born. Since our future is                  
predetermined, Chillingworth is saying, why worry about it? We do what      
we are destined to do.                                                      
  Now the Puritans did believe in predestination. But they never for a      
moment argued that we are therefore absolved of the obligation to live      
the best possible lives. In fact, they insisted on quite the                
reverse: goodness and morality every waking minute.                         
  Chillingworth is being heretical in his views. But you don't need to      
be a religious expert to question Chillingworth's opinion. You only         
need common sense. Chillingworth wants to believe that it is                
impossible for him to pardon. And so, he goes to his religion for a         
doctrine to confirm his desire.                                             
                                                                            
CHAPTER_15                                                                  
                     CHAPTER 15: HESTER AND PEARL                           
-                                                                           
  Watching Chillingworth depart, all but scorching the countryside          
as he goes, Hester makes one of the private judgments that mark her         
lately as an independent thinker: "'Be it sin, or no,'... 'I hate           
the man!'"                                                                  
  She wrestles with the thought for a moment, because she knows she         
has no business hating anyone, especially a man she has wronged.            
Moreover, she has just described pardon to Chillingworth as a               
"priceless benefit." She knows she should be searching for that golden      
vein of forgiveness within herself. But the bitter memories that            
come flooding in are too strong for Christian doctrine.                     
  Hester recalls with something close to horror the early days of           
her marriage, when she and Chillingworth would sit by the fire,             
exchanging smiles that represented lukewarm affection, perhaps, but         
surely not love.                                                            
  She believes it her own worst sin that she consented to a marriage        
of contentment- or worse, convenience. And she judges it                    
Chillingworth's foulest crime that he cheated her, when she was too         
young to know better, into thinking herself happy at his side.              
  As you read this description of Hester's thoughts, you may feel           
that, at long last, she has come into her own. She has ceased to            
struggle with imposed morality (hate may be sin, but she doesn't            
care). And she is finally confronting the truth of her own emotions.        
The Puritans may have condemned her for adultery, but her real sin (as      
she now believes) lay in being false to herself.                            
  On the other hand, you may feel that the force of Hester's emotion        
has thrown her off balance. After all, she has just turned all her          
previously held moral convictions upside down. In only the last             
chapter, Hester accepted responsibility for Chillingworth's                 
deterioration. Now she is blaming him for her own mistakes. "'He            
betrayed me!'" she says to herself. "'He has done me worse wrong            
than I did him!'"                                                           
  What has caused Hester to swing in this wide circle? Perhaps we           
should see in her sudden fierce condemnation of Chillingworth no moral      
conclusion at all, but the passionate reaction of a woman who has           
suddenly realized she is still in love with another man.                    
  Whatever you decide about Hester's state of mind- whether you             
think she is being true to herself or false to something better- you        
should realize that the very next thing she does is to lie. And lie to      
her daughter, whom she loves, on a subject of great importance.             
  Pearl has, as usual, been thinking about the scarlet letter and           
incorporating it in her games. But this time, there is a special            
earnestness in her manner that makes Hester wonder whether Pearl has        
reached the age to be trusted with some of the truth. Holding her           
mother's hand and looking with unusual thoughtfulness into her              
mother's eyes, Pearl asks the two questions that have troubled her all      
her life: What does the scarlet letter mean? And why does the minister      
keep his hand over his heart?                                               
  Hester hesitates, tempted to tell her daughter something of the           
story of her sin. But at the last moment, she backs down. She gives         
the child a shamefully false and silly answer. Hester tells Pearl           
she wears the scarlet letter for decoration, for the "sake of its           
golden thread."                                                             
  Pearl, of course, knows she has been lied to. The sympathy and            
earnestness vanish from her face. She becomes a total nuisance on           
the subject of the letter, never letting the matter drop.                   
  Pearl repeats her questions day and night until Hester is driven          
half-mad. Plagued by these constant reminders of her cowardice she          
threatens to lock the child in a closet.                                    
  Hester's unaccustomed harshness suggests she regrets the lost             
opportunity. The moment of trust and closeness may not come again.          
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Pearl's questions about the scarlet letter, though always on        
the tip of her tongue, are inspired in this chapter by a green              
letter A that she makes from seaweed found on the beach.                    
  On this occasion Pearl seems to show a child's ignorance, rather          
than an imp's supernatural intelligence, on the subject of the letter.      
As Hester points out, the green A on Pearl's chest is essentially           
meaningless. It suggests freshness and innocence, rather than anything      
smacking of evil or experience.                                             
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_16                                                                  
                      CHAPTER 16: A FOREST WALK                             
-                                                                           
  Having faded to move Chillingworth from his purpose of revenge,           
Hester decides to seek out Dimmesdale and reveal to the minister            
himself the true character of the physician.                                
  She has learned that Dimmesdale has gone to visit the Apostle Eliot,      
a missionary among the Indians. She decides to meet the minister in         
the forest on his homeward journey.                                         
  The forest is a very different sort of setting from any we have been      
reading about. We are far away from the market-place, the safe heart        
of the settlement. We are deep in the primeval woods where the only         
sign of humanity is a narrow footpath, hemmed in by the trees.              
  Perhaps we can view "A Forest Walk" as a stage director's efforts to      
create a set and arrange the lighting for the crisis of his play.           
The forest will shortly be the setting for a love scene, a setting          
as wild and as fundamental as the passion that seeks its shelter.           
  The forest, we should note, shows different faces to different            
people. To Hester, the woods are dark and somber, but she welcomes the      
darkness as an assurance of privacy. She has come here to meet              
Arthur Dimmesdale far away from prying eyes.                                
  To Pearl, the forest is a friendly place. The brook babbles to her        
like a playmate. The sun caresses her, finding in her brightness and        
gaiety a spirit that matches its own.                                       
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: The fickle rays of sunshine follow Pearl, but flee from Hester      
because of the scarlet letter. The letter shows that Hester carries         
into nature a burden of guilt imposed by civilization. Society's token      
is not recognized in the woods. In the great realm of nature, it is         
the insignia of a foreign power.                                            
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  To the Puritans, as Pearl reminds us, the forest has a darker             
significance. Here witches dance among the trees, and the devil             
walks abroad to claim souls for his own.                                    
  Pearl is, of course, repeating an old wives' tale, a story she has        
heard from a withered crone, huddled in the chimney corner for              
warmth on a cold spring night. But is the story just an old wives'          
tale? Or does it hold a kernel of truth?                                    
  The forest, we must remember, is free. Nobody watches in the woods        
to report misbehavior to the magistrates. Here people do as they like.      
And what they like is breaking rules.                                       
  To independent spirits like Hester Prynne's, the wilderness sings         
a siren's song: "Throw off the shackles of law and religion. What good      
have they done you anyway? Look at you, a young and vibrant woman,          
grown old before your time. And no wonder, hemmed in, as you are, on        
every side by prohibitions. Why, you can hardly walk without                
tripping over one commandment or another. Come to me, and be                
masterless."                                                                
  Hester will soon respond to that wild note of the forest. But she         
gives no sign of hearing it yet.                                            
  In the meantime, we discover, Pearl has heard more than a general         
tale of devils and witches from that old crone in the chimney               
corner. She has heard a very specific reference in the story to her         
mother. Is it true, Pearl asks, that the scarlet letter is the Black        
Man's mark? And does it glow red at night when Hester meets him in the      
forest?                                                                     
  Hester responds to Pearl's question with one of her own: Has Pearl        
ever awakened at night and found her mother gone from the cottage?          
  It is possible that Hester is being evasive, answering one                
question with another. But more likely, she is claiming simple justice      
from her daughter. We remember that Hester has, in fact, been               
invited to the forest by Mistress Hibbins. And she declined the             
invitation, choosing instead to stay at home with Pearl.                    
  In any case, Pearl will not be put off, she repeats her questions.        
And this time, Hester does not lie to her daughter. She answers with        
something at least like the truth. "'Once in my life I met the Black        
Man!... The scarlet letter is his mark!'"                                   
  Does Hester believe what she is saying? Or is she only agreeing to        
this version of her story because it is an explanation that Pearl           
can understand? Hester will have a different tale to tell in the            
next chapter, one we will have to measure against this.                     
                                                                            
CHAPTER_17                                                                  
              CHAPTER 17: THE PASTOR AND HIS PARISHIONER                    
-                                                                           
  After carefully setting the scene in "A Forest Walk," Hawthorne           
brings us to the long-awaited meeting of Hester Prynne and Arthur           
Dimmesdale. It is a reunion that will span the next three chapters and      
provide the most dramatic and heart-rending moments of the novel.           
  Seven years have passed since the lovers have met in private,             
years that have taken a frightful toll on the minister, even as they        
have strengthened and disciplined Hester.                                   
  Not surprisingly, the two find a kind of unreality in the moment.         
They see each other through a mist that only clears with the chill          
touch of Dimmesdale's hand on Hester's.                                     
  Hawthorne tells us that it took a lot of small talk- remarks about        
the weather and so on- before Hester and Dimmesdale could open up to        
each other. But small talk is not what we hear. Only questions and          
answers of stunning simplicity: "'Art thou in life?'" "'Hast thou           
found peace?'"                                                              
  Perhaps we can learn something about the characters' state of mind        
by looking at those questions, one at a time.                               
  "'Art thou in life?'" "'And thou, Arthur Dimmesdale, dost thou yet        
live?'" Hester may mean something rather different by this first            
question than Dimmesdale does. The minister has been far too wrapped        
up in himself to keep tabs on Hester. He has seen her only once in          
recent years, the night of his vigil on the scaffold, when she              
appeared like an image summoned by this thought. He really does not         
know whether she is still alive.                                            
  Hester, on the other hand, has had good reason to be anxious about        
the minister's health. She has just seen him collapsed upon a bed of        
forest leaves. Her question really means, does Dimmesdale still have        
the strength to live.                                                       
  "'Hast thou found peace?'" Hester believes this second question           
deserves only a dreary smile and a passing nod to the scarlet               
letter- that emblem of torture- on her breast. But Dimmesdale seizes        
the occasion to relieve himself, at some length and to the only             
possible listener, of the agony that has been eating away at his            
heart.                                                                      
  He is weary unto death of his false position, he tells Hester. He is      
doubtful of the efficacy of his work and bitter in his soul at the          
contrast between what he is and what he seems. "'Of penance, I have         
had enough! Of penitence, there has been none!'" he says, rather            
neatly expressing the difference between the futile acts of contrition      
he has taken up and the real change of heart he has never yet               
experienced. (Dimmesdale is an orator with a gift for the nicely            
turned phrase.)                                                             
  Dimmesdale then gives Hester the opening she is looking for. If only      
he had a friend- or even an enemy- who recognized him for what he was,      
the worst of sinners. To see himself truthfully reflected in just           
one pair of eyes a day might save him.                                      
  Hester has come to the forest expressly to tell Dimmesdale that he        
has such an enemy. She speaks her piece now, though with great              
trepidation. She believes that her deception of the minister has            
been a dire wrong. As she confesses it, she throws herself, in an           
unusually demonstrative gesture, at Dimmesdale's feet.                      
  Dimmesdale does not come off well in the next few moments. He             
turns to Hester in anger, accusing her of nothing short of betrayal.        
The raging minister tells Hester she has left him indecently exposed        
to his enemy. Thanks to her, his suffering has been witnessed by the        
very eye that would gloat over it.                                          
  Dimmesdale might have remembered that Hester has had her own              
trials to bear, trials in which he offered her no aid.                      
  But Dimmesdale's fit of anger passes, leaving him quieter than            
before. He is now willing to make a kinder judgment on both Hester and      
himself. "'We are not, Hester, the worst sinners in the world. There        
is one worse than even the polluted priest! That old man's revenge has      
been blacker than my sin. He has violated, in cold blood, the sanctity      
of a human heart.'"                                                         
  It is characteristic of Dimmesdale that, smack in the middle of a         
love scene, he can make us stop and think. In his priestly way, he has      
just made a comparative moral judgment, one to be weighed and               
measured. Dimmesdale is saying that Chillingworth is guilty of a            
premeditated crime. The old man has turned the cold light of his            
intellect on human suffering and, what's more, has sought to                
increase it. Dimmesdale's sin, on the contrary, is the result of            
runaway passion. Once desire overcame his scruples as a clergyman. And      
since then, cowardice has taken over.                                       
  For once, guided by Hester and not by Chillingworth, Dimmesdale           
can see the human element in his situation. He can offer himself a          
small measure of forgiveness.                                               
  Hester confirms Dimmesdale's judgment. But, as usual, she pushes the      
minister further than he is ready to go. "'What we did...'" she             
reminds him, "'had a consecration of its own. We felt it so! We said        
so to each other!'" Dimmesdale, frightened as much by Hester's              
audacity as by the memory of those heady days, tells her (not for           
the last time in the novel) to hush.                                        
  Hester and Dimmesdale sit quietly for a while, grateful for this          
brief respite in their troubles. The path lies before them back to the      
settlement where Hester must take up her burden of shame and                
Dimmesdale his life of hypocrisy. But not yet. They linger in the gray      
twilight of the forest, charmed by the novelty of letting go, of            
laying down the guards they carry before the world.                         
  Dimmesdale is the first to break the spell. He comes back to reality      
with a start. What, he asks Hester, is he to do about Chillingworth?        
Now that he knows the physician's true identity, he can no longer live      
under the same roof with the man. But then, he sees no escape except        
to crawl under the leaves and die.                                          
  The deterioration in Dimmesdale becomes evident now. He is                
childish in his confusion, too weak to make the most basic decisions        
about life. He turns to Hester as a small boy might turn to his             
mother, placing all responsibility in her hands. "'Be thou strong           
for me,'" he pleads. "'Advise me what to do.'"                              
  Hester is appalled by her lover's disintegration, but she accepts         
the opportunity his weakness provides. Perhaps she feels that if she        
cannot have a man, she can at least have her way. She starts to             
exercise what Hawthorne calls "a magnetic power" over Dimmesdale's          
shattered spirit.                                                           
  Is Hester manipulating Dimmesdale and taking unfair advantage of his      
moral collapse? Or is she legitimately seeking to put heart into her        
lover? It is hard to be sure. Whatever Hester's purpose, she makes one      
of the most moving and eloquent speeches any woman has ever made to         
the man she loves.                                                          
  Don't lie there and talk about dying, Hester tells Dimmesdale.            
Pick yourself up and go. Go out into the wilderness or over the sea to      
England, and build yourself a new life. Don't be deceived by this           
false appearance of doom. See farther, and see with my eyes. You say        
the forest track leads back to the settlement. Well, so it does. But        
it goes on from there. Deeper and deeper into the wilderness, until         
all signs of civilization vanish. There you will be free of                 
Chillingworth and free, too, of the guilt that has been eating away at      
your heart.                                                                 
  It is a magnificent speech, a clarion call to freedom. And in it,         
Hester has captured the whole premise of America. The New World             
meant precisely escape from the past, one's own past included. What         
Hester holds forth to Dimmesdale is what the frontier offered every         
man: a shining vision of a new life, waiting somewhere just to the          
west, where the grass glistens in the morning dew as if in the first        
sunrise of the world.                                                       
  Yes, it is a magnificent speech, but one we should read with              
caution. For Hester's speech raises two questions that are                  
absolutely central to The Scarlet Letter: Is escape from the past           
possible? And even if possible, is escape an ethically acceptable           
choice?                                                                     
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: Hester's speech bears a remarkable resemblance to one of            
Dimmesdale's own sermons. The verbs are overwhelmingly commands.            
"'Begin all anew!'... 'Preach! Write! Act!'"                                
  The rhetorical devices, too, are those a minister might use to            
sway a doubtful audience. The questions, for example, seem to have          
obvious answers, but when properly considered, they yield unexpected        
and illuminating insights. "'Whither leads yonder forest-track?             
Backward to the settlement, thou sayest! Yea; but onward, too!              
Deeper it goes, and deeper, into the wilderness... until, some few          
miles hence, the yellow leaves will show no vestige of the white man's      
tread.'"                                                                    
  We remember that the chapter is called "The Pastor and His                
Parishioner," and we appreciate the irony of the title now. The             
roles of pastor and parishioner are reversed. Dimmesdale is seeking         
guidance, and Hester is giving it, with all the skill of a Puritan          
divine.                                                                     
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  To Dimmesdale, Hester's vision of the future seems like a dream.          
Perhaps he has an inkling of the truth, that the wilderness will            
hold for him only what he brings to it. And he can bring very little        
now.                                                                        
  Dimmesdale protests that he is too weak to start a new life. He           
has moral objections, too. He would feel like a sentry deserting his        
post.                                                                       
  But his protests are feeble. He is all the while angling for              
something. Twice he says to Hester that he is unable to consider            
such a venture alone.                                                       
  Hester is at the starting gate, waiting for him. It is the                
invitation, even if only half-expressed, that she has been hoping for.      
  She whispers to her minister, "'Thou shalt not go alone!'"                
                                                                            
CHAPTER_18                                                                  
                   CHAPTER 18: A FLOOD OF SUNSHINE                          
-                                                                           
  "'Thou shalt not go alone.'" Hester's words echo in Dimmesdale's          
mind. His heart leaps with joy, but hypocrite that he is, he is             
appalled at Hester's boldness in speaking out loud what he himself has      
barely hinted at.                                                           
  Nonetheless, Dimmesdale decides to go, a decision over which              
Hawthorne draws a curtain of silence. Let us peer beneath the               
curtain for a moment and see if we can figure out what is on                
Dimmesdale's mind. Then we'll go back and see what Hawthorne                
actually says.                                                              
  Dimmesdale, as we know, is in no shape for a calm and rational            
decision. He is exhausted and emotionally overwrought. He is wide open      
to the power of suggestion. He will grasp at any solution Hester            
offers him.                                                                 
  And what does Hester offer him? Something very much like escape from      
death row. Dimmesdale must feel, at this point, rather like a man           
who has been imprisoned in a dungeon for years. Suddenly, a guard           
appears and unbolts the door. The guard says- the words are like music      
to the prisoner's ears- "It is all a mistake. You are free to go."          
  Such a prisoner might doubt his senses for a while. But he would not      
send the guard back to check on his release. He would not ask too many      
questions either. He would stand on his wobbly legs and go.                 
  In effect, that is what Dimmesdale does. And Hawthorne now has a few      
things to say. At this point in the chapter, the author breaks into         
the flow of the narrative to provide a commentary on what has taken         
place.                                                                      
  The section of commentary begins with the second paragraph ("But          
Hester Prynne, with a mind of native courage....") and continues for        
four paragraphs more (through"... the clergyman resolved to flee,           
and not alone"). It is a section that has caused problems to many a         
reader.                                                                     
  Problem 1: In the middle of a love scene, this section seems dry and      
analytical. We have just been carried away on the wings of Hester's         
enthusiasm. And here is Hawthorne, calling us back down to earth.           
Problem 2: After the warmth and emotive power of the dialogue, the          
section is preachy and didactic. It is a sermon, if you like, to            
counter Hester's own.                                                       
  Hawthorne wants to explain, it seems, that all that wonderful             
rhetoric of Hester's was really just the talk of a renegade. Society        
has outlawed Hester Prynne. As a result, she has wandered "without          
rule or guidance, in a moral wilderness." Hester has been set free          
as a savage to criticize all that is sacred in religion, all that is        
venerable in law. We can admire Hester's courage, Hawthorne tells           
us, for daring to venture into intellectual wastelands like these. But      
we cannot admire her conclusions. Her conclusions are wrong.                
  If Hawthorne is critical of Hester, he is much rougher on                 
Dimmesdale. For running away from his responsibilities, the minister        
has not a shadow of an excuse. Unlike Hester, Dimmesdale has never          
been left to his own moral devices. The best we can say of him is           
that- weakened by guilt, confused by remorse- he chooses open flight        
over a life of sham.                                                        
  What are we to make of this tidy moral lecture thrust into the            
middle of the forest scene? Some readers simply dismiss it. Hawthorne,      
they say, is really on the lovers' side, but he's worried about             
offending the tender sensibilities of his Victorian readers. So he          
throws in this little critique of illicit passion just to be on the         
safe side.                                                                  
  Other readers latch on to this moral lecture as the meaning of the        
forest scene. However attractive Hawthorne finds the romantic               
option, they say, he knows it is wrong. Look: Hawthorne expresses           
his opinion clearly- in black and white- just so there won't be any         
mistake.                                                                    
  Still a third group of readers sense a split in Hawthorne himself.        
The artist in Hawthorne- the Romantic half, let us say- sympathizes         
with the lovers and recognizes the claims of emotional intensity.           
But the moralist in Hawthorne- or the Puritan half- believes that           
passion justifies nothing and that giving into it is sin.                   
  You will have to decide where you think Hawthorne stands, weighing        
the drama of the forest scene against the didacticism, the force of         
the lovers' passion against their perilous moral position. But not          
just yet, for Hawthorne has returned to his story.                          
  We rejoin the narrative to find Dimmesdale lifted up on a wave of         
joy. Surely, he feels, such happiness must have a blessing on it. He        
has flung himself down, "sin-stained" and "sorrow-blackened" on a           
bed of leaves. Now he has "risen up, all made anew." The minister           
feels, in the language of fundamentalist sects, born again- but in          
love, not in Christ.                                                        
  Dimmesdale uses religious terms to express his sense of                   
exhilaration. Hester, as we might expect, has a different method.           
She unpins the scarlet letter from her dress and tosses it toward a         
nearby stream. (The letter, we note for future reference does not           
quite make the water. It lands on the bank of the stream.) Hester's         
gesture is a proclamation: The past is dead and the slate is wiped          
clean. "'With this symbol, I undo it all,'" she says, "'and make it as      
it had never been!'"                                                        
-                                                                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
  NOTE: You will want to compare Hester's words with those she spoke        
to Reverend Wilson in the market-place in Chapter 3. Then she told the      
clergyman that the scarlet letter was too deeply branded to be              
removed. Was she right then? Or is she right now?                           
---------------------------------------------------------------------       
-                                                                           
  Taking off her cap, Hester unlooses her hair. As the dark strands         
cascade down her back, she becomes a woman again. Her eyes grow             
radiant. A flush comes to her cheek. The sensuality of the early            
chapters returns.                                                           
  The sunlight, which previously shunned Hester, now seeks her out. In      
her present state, she is at one with nature. The forest glows in           
the golden light, rejoicing with the lovers, sharing their mood.            
  We sense that something vitally important has happened in this            
scene, a possibility barely even hinted at before. Hester and               
Dimmesdale have come to life again. The minister, half-dead when he         
first lay down in the forest, is buoyed up, hopeful, energetic. The         
woman of marble that was Hester Prynne only a few pages ago is now all      
tenderness and fire.                                                        
  We are, of course, swept away. As the saying goes, everybody loves a      
lover. And who could resist such lovers as these, lit up like               
Christmas trees after years of darkness?                                    
  And yet, we may suspect it is all too easy. As Dimmesdale himself         
wonders, if the high road to freedom has always been open, why have         
they not taken it before? There is a hitch in this beautiful scheme of      
theirs. The hitch is Pearl.                                                 
                                                                            
CHAPTER_19                                                                  
               CHAPTER 19: THE CHILD AT THE BROOK-SIDE                      
-                                                                           
  Hester turns to Dimmesdale, saying it is high time he knew his            
daughter. Pearl has wandered off in the woods somewhere. She is busy        
picking flowers and playing with small animals: squirrels, partridges,      
and the like.                                                               
  Dimmesdale, we notice, is hardly the proud father that Hester             
might have hoped. Selfish as always, he worries that people may have        
noticed the striking resemblance between Pearl and himself. Hester,         
who knows how to handle her nervous lover, soothingly reminds him           
that, in a little while, he need not be afraid to be recognized as          
Pearl's father.                                                             
  The minister, however, is still jumpy. Children are not at ease with      
him, he says. They never volunteer to kiss him or climb on his knee.        
(And we can see why. He is just the kind of man to complain about           
noise when he is trying to study, or a spot on his shirt left by a          
child's sticky hands. Men like Dimmesdale are not born for                  
fatherhood.)                                                                
  In the meantime, Pearl has come back.                                     
  As the child approaches, Hester and Dimmesdale are struck by her          
wild beauty. Decked out with flowers, Pearl resembles a native              
spirit of the forest.                                                       
  When Pearl stops by the bank of the stream, she is reflected in a         
pool of water, so that there are two Pearls, both shimmering in the         
gloom. The double image has a kind of unreality. And Hester is              
seized by the fancy that Pearl has wandered off into another world, on      
the far side of the brook, where she will be forever cut off from           
her mother.                                                                 
  Hester's idea proves to be no fancy at all but nothing short of           
the truth. Pearl stubbornly refuses to obey her mother's command to         
jump across the stream and make friends with the minister.                  
  Instead, the child points an accusing finger at the vacant spot on        
Hester's dress. She frowns, she stamps her foot. And when Hester            
begins to scold, Pearl throws herself into wild contortions and utters      
piercing shrieks that echo through the forest.                              
  It is all too much for Dimmesdale's nerves. He begs Hester to do          
something- anything- fast. Hester has no choice but to pacify Pearl.        
She knows what the child misses, and she wades into the stream to           
retrieve the scarlet letter.                                                
  What is happening in this scene? On a narrative level, Pearl is           
behaving like the petted and spoiled child she is. She is furious to        
find herself faced with a rival claimant to her mother's affections.        
She understands that the change in Hester's appearance signals a new        
state of affairs- one she heartily dislikes. She registers her              
disapproval by means of a temper tantrum.                                   
  On a symbolic level, Pearl is acting out the role of a fierce little      
nemesis. Her pointing finger is the accusing finger of fate. Pearl's        
mission in life has always been to remind Hester of the consequences        
of sin. She will not let her mother escape those consequences now.          
  Pearl's silent message, as she stands there on the far side of the        
stream, is that there is no return from experience to innocence. She        
will not recognize her mother until the scarlet letter is once more in      
place and Hester's luxuriant hair, that radiant sign of young               
womanhood, is once more imprisoned beneath the restraining cap.             
  Do you find something cruel in Pearl, something merciless in her          
insistence that Hester forego her newfound youth and sensuality?            
Perhaps Hawthorne does, too. But the cruelty lies not so much in the        
child as in the situation. Hawthorne believes that there is                 
something final and irrevocable about sin. But he does not necessarily      
love the Providence that has decreed it so.                                 
  Pearl is now willing to greet her mother, but she will have               
nothing to do with the minister. When Dimmesdale plants a nervous kiss      
on her forehead, she runs back to the stream to wash it off.                
  Hester and Dimmesdale draw aside to discuss their plans for the           
future. But we know now, for we have just been warned: this is a            
marriage that will never come off.                                          
                                                                            
CHAPTER_20                                                                  
                  CHAPTER 20: THE MINISTER IN A MAZE                        
-                                                                           
  Dimmesdale returns home from the forest to the settlement. As we          
watch him go, we are struck by the change in the man. The minister who      
went to the woods was weak to the point of death. The minister who          
returns is nothing short of frenzied. In fact, he seems a little mad.       
  Dimmesdale's journey home is a progress fraught with peril, for at        
every step, he is tempted to do some outrageous thing or other: preach      
heresy to his deacon, corrupt an innocent girl, teach dirty words to        
children, exchange lusty oaths with a sailor.                               
  The minister is terrified and amazed at himself. What, he wonders,        
has happened to him?                                                        
  What, indeed?                                                             
  You may take a modern, psychological view of Dimmesdale's case.           
You may decide he's simply been living too long under a rigid form          
of self-restraint. Seeing Hester was like lifting the lid off a             
boiling pot. It isn't surprising that the man is letting off steam. If      
you take this view, you will probably be somewhat indulgent toward          
Dimmesdale. After all, some of the actions he envisions are really          
only schoolboy pranks.                                                      
  On the other hand, you may see Dimmesdale's crisis in religious or        
moral terms. If so, you will probably accept Hawthorne's statement          
of the case. Dimmesdale, having chosen what he knew to be sin, is           
becoming every minute more of a sinner. The minister is on a roller         
coaster ride in hell. Having once mounted the infernal machine, he          
careens onward, powerless to get off.                                       
  This latter interpretation receives some support from Dimmesdale's        
encounter with Mistress Hibbins. Devil's familiar that Hibbins is, she      
now recognizes in Dimmesdale a kindred spirit. A little bird has            
told her, apparently, that the minister has signed his name in the          
Black Man's ironbound book.                                                 
  Now, we have learned to trust Mistress Hibbins' opinion. Long ago,        
in front of the Governor's mansion, she spotted in Hester a likely          
candidate for the wild forest dance. And sure enough once Hester got        
to the forest, her demure appearance vanished. Her hair tumbled down        
and a wild light shone in her eyes.                                         
  Yet, Mistress Hibbins' "hail-fellow-well-met" greeting to the             
minister raises a question. Are we really supposed to see the forest        
meeting of the lovers as some sort of infernal pact with Hester in the      
role of evil temptress? If we balk at this construction of events,          
it is only the beginning of our troubles. We come smack up against          
another dilemma in the minister's newfound strength.                        
  If Dimmesdale has indeed sold his soul to the devil, he has come out      
ahead in the bargain. When he was "good," he was weak and lethargic;        
good, perhaps, but certainly good for nothing. Now that he is "bad,"        
he is energetic, ready for action, capable of doing something, if only      
of raising hell.                                                            
  In Dimmesdale's behavior, Hawthorne has sensed a truth that has (for      
him) chilling implications. The minister's energy sources are               
closely linked to his sensuality. When the sap rises in the man, he is      
raring to go. But passion, Hawthorne has said (see "The Pastor and His      
Parishioner"), is the part of Dimmesdale the devil claimed. Only the        
higher, purer qualities are directed toward God.                            
  Is the choice, then, between a virtuous torpor and an active,             
creative evil? For Dimmesdale? For all of us? If so, it is the devil's      
own choice.                                                                 
  Hawthorne now brings Dimmesdale home where he does two interesting        
things. First, he lies like a trooper to Chillingworth, concealing (if      
has any hopes of concealing) the knowledge of Chillingworth's true          
position that Dimmesdale has gained from Hester Prynne. Here is a           
change from Dimmesdale's old simplicity, the sign of the serpent            
upon him, indeed.                                                           
  But the minister does something else, something that points in a          
different direction. He begins anew that piece of work which is so          
important to him, the Election Sermon. He channels, almost by               
accident, the dubious energy sparked by the forest meeting into his         
true calling, the saving of souls. He works like a man inspired (or         
a man possessed) until the next morning, when the sermon lies finished      
before him on the study floor.                                              
                                                                            
CHAPTER_21                                                                  
                 CHAPTER 21: THE NEW ENGLAND HOLIDAY                        
-                                                                           
  In this chapter, Hawthorne shows us a lighter side of Puritanism. We      
have come to think of these first colonists as unreservedly gloomy.         
Here we find them in a brighter, gayer mood.                                
  We come upon the colonists in a highly unusual act: celebrating.          
To mark the election of new magistrates, the colony has set aside           
its work. The citizens of Boston have gathered in the market-place          
to make merry as best they can. There is a parade planned, with music,      
and wrestling matches, too.                                                 
  Hester and Pearl are part of the celebration. Though Hester stands        
on the sidelines, wearing her usual austere dress and her usual             
stony expression, the note of celebration echoes in her heart. Beneath      
her poker face, Hester is exultant. She has come to the                     
market-place, she imagines, wearing the scarlet letter for the last         
time. She silently invites the crowd of spectators to look their            
last on her badge of shame. In a little while, the letter will lie          
at the bottom of the sea. And Boston won't have Hester Prynne to            
kick around any more.                                                       
  Hester has made plans to leave the colony that very day. She has          
booked passage for Dimmesdale, Pearl, and herself on a ship, now            
berthed in the harbor, that is due to sail for England with the             
evening tide.                                                               
  Yes, Hester is triumphant, but her triumph is premature. The holiday      
mood of the market-place is deceptive, so far as she is concerned.          
As Hester speaks to the shipmaster, she discovers that Chillingworth        
has booked passage on the same boat. The leech will stick to his            
patient all the way to England. There will be no shaking him off.           
  Hester is shaken by the shipmaster's news. As she digests this            
unwelcome piece of information, she catches sight of Chillingworth          
on the other side of the square. He is watching her across the mass of      
gaily chattering people. On his face, he wears the implacable smile of      
fate.                                                                       
                                                                            
CHAPTER_22                                                                  
                      CHAPTER 22: THE PROCESSION                            
-                                                                           
  We are still in the market-place. There is a lot going on to catch        
our eye.                                                                    
  We see the magistrates on parade: firm, stalwart men who in times of      
peril have stood up to protect the colony like rocks against the tide.      
  We see Pearl in her bright red dress, flitting among the                  
spectators like a great wild bird. She is wilder in her nature, we are      
reminded, than the pirates and the Indians whom she runs to inspect         
with her childish curiosity.                                                
  But our attention is really fixed on Hester- or rather on Hester          
watching Dimmesdale as he passes by in the procession. This is not the      
man she left in the woods. His step is firm and energetic now. And          
he is as indifferent to her presence as if he were a million miles          
away. Not a glance, not a nod of recognition does he give her. And          
this is on the eve of their planned escape! Hester is crushed and           
desolate as she watches her lover retreat into that private world of        
his own, where she cannot follow him.                                       
  Dimmesdale's preoccupied air is also noticed by Mistress Hibbins,         
who corners Hester for an intimate little chat. Now who would believe,      
the old witch asks, that this saintly minister, who looks as if his         
head has been buried in his books for months on end, has in fact            
just returned from an airing in the woods?                                  
  How does she know, wonders a startled Hester. It is a question we         
also ask ourselves. And we're about to get an answer. In a moment,          
Mistress Hibbins will reveal the source of her privileged information.      
  When Hester protests that she cannot speak lightly of the pious           
Mr. Dimmesdale, Mistress Hibbins turns on her indignantly. Come on,         
Hester, she says, don't lie to me. Do you really think I've been to         
the forest so many times and can't tell who else has been there,            
even if no tell-tale twigs or leaves still cling to their hair?             
  What the old witch is saying is that she needs no black magic to see      
into the minister's heart. Experience itself is an eye-opener.              
Mistress Hibbins can read guilty thoughts in other people because           
she has had them herself, and so she recognizes the symptoms: a             
certain spring to the walk, perhaps, or a certain gleam in the eye.         
The forest leaves its mark on everyone, witches and ministers alike.        
  Mistress Hibbins bursts into shrill laughter and walks away.              
Hester draws near the meeting house to hear Dimmesdale's Election           
Sermon. As the place is packed, she stands outside by the scaffold          
of the pillory, listening to the rise and fall of Dimmesdale's voice.       
  Does Hester understand Dimmesdale's meaning, even though she              
cannot hear the words? Most likely, for she is in complete sympathy         
with her lover. She has not withdrawn from him, as he has from her.         
And what she hears is "...the complaint of a human heart,                   
sorrow-laden, perchance guilty, telling its secret... to the great          
heart of mankind."                                                          
                                                                            
CHAPTER_23                                                                  
                      CHAPTER 23: THE REVELATION                            
-                                                                           
  Dimmesdale's Election Sermon is the triumph of his life. The crowd        
in the market-place is ecstatic. Never has a preacher been so               
inspired. The spirit of prophecy has lifted Dimmesdale to new               
heights from which he foretold a glorious future for the people of New      
England.                                                                    
  Yet it is a future that their minister will not share. The                
citizens of Boston sense that Dimmesdale is dying. He has spoken            
like an angel ascending to heaven, who has shaken his wings and sent        
down "a shower of golden truths" upon them.                                 
  Hawthorne is being ironic, but his irony has a tragic edge.               
Dimmesdale is no angel, but he is a dying man. He has carefully             
nurtured his strength to get through the Election Sermon. But now that      
it is over, he is as limp as a rag doll. He staggers, he totters,           
but he keeps himself on his feet. Before he dies, he has a job to do.       
  Dimmesdale approaches the scaffold and calls out to Hester and Pearl      
to join him. The child flies to his side, for this is the public            
sign of recognition that she has been waiting for.                          
  Hester moves slowly, unwillingly, forward. She knows what is coming.      
She is about to lose her lover a second time. And this time, the            
pain is sharper because it is unexpected. He has come so tantalizingly      
within reach, and now he is about to vanish- forever.                       
  Chillingworth is equally surprised and appalled by Dimmesdale's           
obvious intention. He rushes forward to stop the minister from              
making a public confession. If Hester is losing a lover, he is              
losing a victim. He cannot play on Dimmesdale's secret guilt once it        
is no longer secret.                                                        
  Chillingworth makes a last, frantic appeal to the minister's              
cowardice (or to his common sense). Dimmesdale's life and honor can         
still be saved, the physician assures him, if only he will stop now.        
  Dimmesdale, however, brushes Chillingworth aside. He is no longer         
listening. He is living on another plane now. He no longer sees a           
man before him, but only the evil the man represents. "'Ha, tempter.'"      
the minister answers, addressing both Chillingworth and the Prince          
of Darkness he serves, "'Methinks thou art too late.'"                      
  Dimmesdale stretches forth his hand to Hester to ask for her              
support. He no longer has the strength to mount the scaffold alone.         
But now that he has brought himself to the brink of confession, he          
hesitates. "'Is this not better... than what we dreamed of in the           
forest?'" he asks. It is a real question, not a rhetorical one, for         
the minister's eyes are filled with anxiety and doubt.                      
  What does Dimmesdale expect Hester to say? If he is waiting for a         
nod of approval from her, he has the wrong customer. Hester is the          
last person on earth to say that death is better than life, that            
sorrow and repentance are better than love and happiness. Much as           
she loves Dimmesdale, much as she may be tempted to ease his last           
moments, she cannot bring herself to call his choice anything but           
selfish. Better? she says. Yes, it's better, provided we both die           
and Pearl along with us.                                                    
  It's all very well for you to confess, Hester is telling Dimmesdale.      
You won't have to face the consequences. But what about me? What about      
Pearl? There's no escape for us now. When you are gone, we'll still be      
left to pay the piper.                                                      
  Nevertheless, she gives Dimmesdale her arm. The minister,                 
supported by Hester and Pearl, climbs to the wooden platform where          
he confesses his sin to the people of Boston. It is a dramatic              
speech with an unforgettable ending. As the minister concludes, he          
tears away the cloth that covers his chest and reveals to the crowd         
the mark, shaped like a letter A, which has eaten into his flesh.           
  The market-place is in tumult. But on the scaffold, Dimmesdale is         
calm. He turns to Pearl to ask for the kiss she refused him in the          
forest. The child complies. As she leans her face toward her father's,      
a great change comes over her. She is truly touched for the first time      
in her young life. The wicked imp vanishes, replaced by a little            
girl with a heart.                                                          
  Hester, having lost the lifetime she planned with Dimmesdale, now         
bargains for second best. Will they at least share eternity                 
together? she asks her lover urgently. Dimmesdale is once again             
frightened by Hester's audacity. Hush, he tells her (for the second         
time in three days). Remember we have sinned. God is merciful, but          
perhaps not that merciful. Better not to look ahead. Better not to ask      
too much.                                                                   
  Dimmesdale sacrifices many things- love, life, honor- to make his         
peace with God. Does he find the peace he is looking for? We read           
his last words, and we wonder. "The law was broke!- the sin here so         
awfully revealed!- let these alone be in thy thoughts! I fear! I            
fear!'" The minister makes a statement of faith. He leaves his fate to      
God. But he turns to heaven at the end darkly, doubtfully.                  
                                                                            
CONCLUSION                                                                  
                              CONCLUSION                                    
-                                                                           
  Are conclusions supposed to wrap things up? This one surely doesn't.      
In fact, it raises more questions than it answers. Perhaps that is the      
only fit ending for a novel that has never invited us to be                 
complacent.                                                                 
  Let's see what happens to the central characters after                    
Dimmesdale's confession and his death. In the first place, there is         
some disagreement about the meaning of Dimmesdale's last actions. Some      
observers of the scaffold scene deny the minister's guilt. They say         
there was no mark on his chest and that he died in Hester's arms to         
show that we are all sinners alike. Hawthorne, thank God, doesn't           
support that view. If he seriously asked us to consider it, we              
wouldn't know what to think.                                                
  Chillingworth dies, too. Well, that is no surprise. He has built his      
life around Dimmesdale's, trained all his energies on tormenting the        
minister, and now he has nothing left. So Chillingworth shrivels up         
and blows away with the wind.                                               
  In his will, however, Chillingworth names Pearl as his heir.              
Pearl! The daughter of Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale! Now,            
that is a stunner. Why would Chillingworth want to do a favor for           
Pearl? Is this a gesture of apology to Dimmesdale, made by the              
torturer to his victim from the grave? Is it a statement of faith in        
Hester, a declaration that any daughter of hers must do well, if            
properly launched in life? Is it an ironic joke, a legacy                   
Chillingworth knows will keep him in Hester's mind forever as an            
unsolved mystery?                                                           
  We will never know. But Chillingworth's bequest makes us take             
another long, hard look at a character we thought we had all sewn up.       
  Pearl, floated by wealth, sails to Europe where she marries well.         
She is one of the first American heiresses to trade money for a title.      
In later centuries, especially Hawthorne's own, it became common            
practice for the daughters of American millionaires to save the             
noble houses of Europe with hefty infusions of dollars. We can imagine      
how this girl, who never minded her manners even in Boston, fared in        
the far more formal European courts.                                        
  Having seen Pearl nicely settled, Hester returns to New England           
where she resumes the scarlet letter. Now, we can easily understand         
why Hester leaves a beloved daughter abroad and comes home. Boston          
is the place where her life has been the fullest- where she has             
loved Dimmesdale, lost him, and buried him.                                 
  But why, once rid of the scarlet letter, does she take up the             
hated token and wear it again, when nobody tells her to?                    
(Interesting that she never pitched it into the sea, as she promised        
to.) Does Hester wear the letter now in acceptance of                       
self-restraint, in a long-delayed affirmation of society's sentence         
upon her?                                                                   
  Maybe. Maybe not.                                                         
  We have seen Hester once before in the novel clutch the scarlet           
letter to herself with a fierce mixture of despair and pride. (Way          
back in the market-place, she told the magistrates that they would          
never take the letter from her.) Hester's gesture is quieter now,           
but its meaning may be much the same. The scarlet letter is the symbol      
of Hester's difference from all the people around her. It is a sign         
not only of sin but of freedom. The letter marks Hester as one of           
life's wounded, but it also says, to those who have eyes to see,            
that here is someone who has dared to live passionately, beyond the         
limits of society's sad little rules.                                       
  When Hester dies, she is buried beside Dimmesdale, under a tombstone      
that serves for both graves. On the tombstone, the letter A is              
engraved like a heraldic device. So much life and suffering have            
gone into the symbol that the sign of adultery has become a sign of         
nobility. Hester has earned her coat of arms.                               
                                                                            
TESTS_AND_ANSWERS                                                           
                            A STEP BEYOND                                   
                          TESTS AND ANSWERS                 (HSCATEST)      
-                                                                           
                                TESTS                                       
-                                                                           
  TEST 1                                                                    
-                                                                           
  _____  1. Hester's crime of adultery                                      
-                                                                           
            A. was greeted with mixed reactions in King's Chapel            
            B. made her liable to capital punishment                        
            C. made her infamous throughout the thirteen colonies           
-                                                                           
  _____  2. Hester and Dimmesdale disagreed on the                          
-                                                                           
            A. morality of elopement                                        
            B. power of prayer                                              
            C. possibility of redemption                                    
-                                                                           
  _____  3. Hester believed that humans have a "right to happiness"         
            and that                                                        
-                                                                           
            A. her love for Dimmesdale was sacred                           
            B. her child was her salvation                                  
            C. she owed nothing to contemporary morality                    
-                                                                           
  _____  4. Chillingworth was willing to violate human and spiritual        
            realities                                                       
-                                                                           
            A. because of his warped interpretation of religion             
            B. in pursuit of his egotistical vengeance                      
            C. because the law and the church had failed him                
-                                                                           
  _____  5. In branding Hester with the scarlet letter, the community       
            was                                                             
-                                                                           
            A. affirming its own self-righteousness                         
            B. doling out well-reasoned justice                             
            C. inviting holy retribution                                    
-                                                                           
  _____  6. Hawthorne adds to the fascination of the scarlet letter         
            by telling of                                                   
-                                                                           
            I. an A in the sky                                              
           II. historical sinners who wore similar marks of shame           
          III. the different ways in which it affected people               
-                                                                           
            A. I and II                                                     
            B. I and III                                                    
            C. II and III                                                   
-                                                                           
  _____  7. In "The Custom House" introduction, Hawthorne                   
-                                                                           
            I. provides authenticity for the scarlet letter story           
           II. tells us of his New England roots                            
          III. discusses Puritan frailties                                  
-                                                                           
            A. I and II only                                                
            B. II and III only                                              
            C. I, II, and III                                               
-                                                                           
  _____  8. Good and evil do battle for Dimmesdale's soul in the            
            forms of                                                        
-                                                                           
            A. Pearl and Mistress Hibbins                                   
            B. Hester and Chillingworth                                     
            C. Governor Bellingham and John Wilson                          
-                                                                           
  _____  9. A theme (or themes) of the novel is (are)                       
-                                                                           
            I. sin cannot be hidden from God                                
           II. sinners should fear God's justice                            
          III. there is nothing more reprehensible than adultery            
-                                                                           
            A. I and II only                                                
            B. II and III only                                              
            C. I, II, and III                                               
-                                                                           
  _____ 10. Hawthorne is helped in the telling of his tale by the           
-                                                                           
            A. public's interest in marital infidelity                      
            B. harshness of the Puritan ethic                               
            C. eloquence of his major characters                            
-                                                                           
  11. Describe the forest and the market-place and explain their            
significance as settings.                                                   
-                                                                           
  12. It has been said that Hawthorne is interested in sin not as a         
theological subject, but as a psychological force in the lives of           
the early New England colonists. Describe the psychological effects of      
sin on one of the major characters in The Scarlet Letter.                   
-                                                                           
  TEST 2                                                                    
-                                                                           
  _____  1. Roger Chillingworth's sin was                                   
-                                                                           
            A. inciting the hatred of the colony toward poor                
               Dimmesdale                                                   
            B. refusing to stand up for the woman he loved                  
            C. his decision to play God                                     
-                                                                           
  _____  2. The older Hester Prynne so impressed her neighbors that         
            they were willing to say her scarlet letter stood for           
-                                                                           
            A. Atonement                                                    
            B. Able                                                         
            C. Angelic                                                      
-                                                                           
  _____  3. An ironic touch in the novel is seen in                         
-                                                                           
            A. Hester's ascent and Chillingworth's descent                  
            B. the colonists' acceptance of Puritan morality                
            C. the colonists' cruelty toward little Pearl                   
-                                                                           
  _____  4. According to Hawthorne, Hester's exemplary behavior in          
            later life proceeded from                                       
-                                                                           
            A. the cumulative effect of her punishment                      
            B. her desire to emulate Dimmesdale's sacrifice                 
            C. God's grace in her heart                                     
-                                                                           
  _____  5. Chillingworth dies,                                             
-                                                                           
            A. with the knowledge that the sinners would be punished        
               in the next world                                            
            B. having been cheated of his vengeance                         
            C. after a reluctant apology to the man he had tormented        
-                                                                           
  _____  6. Hawthorne belonged to the Calvinists, who believed that         
-                                                                           
            A. sinners do not deserve redemption                            
            B. redemption followed forgiveness                              
            C. eternal damnation was reserved for atheists                  
-                                                                           
  _____  7. Hester's tomb was graced with                                   
-                                                                           
            A. a scarlet letter                                             
            B. words from a Biblical psalm                                  
            C. the phrase "Rest, rest, perturbed spirit"                    
-                                                                           
  _____  8. Chillingworth's goal was to                                     
-                                                                           
            I. disorganize and corrupt Dimmesdale's spiritual being         
           II. ensure Dimmesdale's damnation                                
          III. keep Dimmesdale from procuring grace through                 
               repentance                                                   
-                                                                           
            A. I and III only                                               
            B. II and III only                                              
            C. I, II, and III                                               
-                                                                           
  _____  9. The Reverend Dimmesdale's physical problems were                
-                                                                           
            A. related to his moral crookedness                             
            B. directly attributable to Chillingworth's cruelty             
            C. magnified in his own mind                                    
-                                                                           
  _____ 10. Dimmesdale's decision to ascend the scaffold was                
-                                                                           
            A. decried by old Chillingworth                                 
            B. welcomed by Governor Bellingham                              
            C. "Heaven's own method of retribution"                         
-                                                                           
  11. Analyze the character of Arthur Dimmesdale. Support your              
conclusions with evidence from at least three different chapters.           
-                                                                           
  12. Discuss Hawthorne's use of the scarlet letter as an open,             
ambiguous symbol.                                                           
-                                                                           
                               ANSWERS                                      
-                                                                           
  TEST 1                                                                    
-                                                                           
  1. B     2. A     3. A     4. B     5. A     6. B     7. C                
  8. A     9. A    10. B                                                    
-                                                                           
  11. The market-place, with its penitential platform, lies at the          
heart of society. Here the Puritans demand conformity of Hester             
Prynne. Here Dimmesdale comes to confirm his acceptance of society's        
moral vision. In the forest, which lies beyond society's reach,             
freedom seems possible. Here nature takes over, and passion is given        
full sway.                                                                  
  The Puritans distrusted the forest. They knew that evil could             
flourish there, unchecked by law or religion. Hawthorne retains that        
distrust. In The Scarlet Letter, the forest is still the devil's home.      
(See the discussion of setting and "A Forest Walk.")                        
-                                                                           
  12. You may choose Hester, Dimmesdale, or Chillingworth. Decide           
how sin changes your character, affects his or her thoughts, feelings,      
perceptions.                                                                
  You will also want to decide whether sin is a positive or a negative      
force in your character's life. About Chillingworth, there is little        
question. About Hester and Dimmesdale, there is a good deal. If sin         
isolates Hester, it also makes her strong. If sin turns Dimmesdale          
into a hypocrite, it also gives him the necessary human touch. (See         
the discussions of individual characters and, depending on the              
character you write about, "Hester at Her Needle," "Another View of         
Hester," "Hester and the Physician," "The Leech," "The Leech and His        
Patient," "The Interior of a Heart," "The Minister in a Maze.")             
  Here is a sample answer:                                                  
  Sin is a double-edged sword in the life of Hester Prynne. The             
effects of sin on her character are powerful and formative, but they        
are also ambivalent.                                                        
  The first and most obvious effect of sin on Hester is to isolate her      
from the community. From the very beginning of the novel, Hester            
stands alone. On the scaffold of the pillory- with the scarlet              
letter on her dress- Hester is marked as someone apart from the             
menacing crowd that represents the society she has outraged by her          
crime.                                                                      
  How does Hester feel, labeled as an adulteress, condemned by the          
angry spectators in the market-place? A blush of shame on her cheek         
combines with a flashing look of defiance. Hester's ambivalent              
reaction to her sin, and to society's appraisal of that sin, continues      
throughout the book, with defiance growing under the cloak of shame         
and repentance.                                                             
  After the scaffold scene, Hester assumes compliance with the rigid        
Puritan code. She looks and acts like someone trying to atone for           
her fault. She takes up acts of charity to the poor and patiently           
bears their insults. Over the years, she becomes a Sister of Mercy,         
giving generously of herself to the sick, the dying, the troubled.          
  But Hester's seeming admission of her sin, and her gestures of            
penitence, are if not hypocritical at least superficial. She has never      
"bought" society's assessment of her love as a vile crime. She has          
said and believed that what she did had a consecration of its own.          
That never-quite-suppressed belief combines with society's high-handed      
insults to turn Hester into a rebel.                                        
  There is an old proverb that says it is better to be hanged for           
stealing a sheep than a lamb. That proverb can tell us a lot about          
Hester. Condemned as a sinner, never permitted to atone for her sin by      
society, Hester becomes an outlaw in earnest.                               
  Though she continues to sit in her cottage quietly sewing, though         
she walks the streets of Boston with a patient, down-cast expression        
on her face, Hester thinks thoughts that are like a dagger pointed          
at society's heart.                                                         
  Hester rejects a social code, a religious creed, that permits the         
cruelty she has endured. She creates a whole rationale- a party             
platform- for what the Puritans call deadly sin. By the time she meets      
Dimmesdale in the forest, she is strong enough to turn common morality      
on its head. She nearly succeeds in convincing the minister that            
flight from duty, and commitment to a life-long adulterous union,           
are goods to be reached after and fought for.                               
  Sin, as some critics have pointed out, turns Hester into a beautiful      
but terrible and polluted goddess, at least while she is young. Do age      
and Dimmesdale's death change her? Maybe. Maybe not.                        
  Hester's return to Boston in later years and her resumption of the        
scarlet letter may be signs of her final acquiescence to society's          
verdict. Perhaps she is giving repentance one last try. Or perhaps she      
is wearing the letter in age, as she did in youth, with pride in her        
difference from other people. Hester's message at the end may be "I am      
a sinner," a statement made at last with conviction. Or it may be,          
what it always was, "I am passionate and free."                             
-                                                                           
  TEST 2                                                                    
-                                                                           
  1. C     2. B     3. A     4. C     5. B     6. A     7. A                
  8. C     9. A    10. A                                                    
-                                                                           
  11. There are a number of ways to approach a topic like this. You         
can talk about Dimmesdale as a hypocrite who suffers from hidden sin        
or as a scholar-recluse who falls out of his ivory tower. You can           
ask yourself whether Dimmesdale is a better or a worse person than          
Hester Prynne. Or you can begin by examining the relationship               
between Dimmesdale and Chillingworth. Whichever way you decide to           
tackle Dimmesdale, you should look at his speech to Hester in the           
market-place, his quarrel with Chillingworth in Chapter 11, his             
moral collapse in the forest, and his confession at the end. (See           
the discussion of Dimmesdale under Characters, and also "The                
Recognition," "The Leech and His Patient," "The Interior of a               
Heart," "A Flood of Sunshine," "The Minister in a Maze," and "The           
Revelation."                                                                
-                                                                           
  12. You will want to trace the shifting meanings of the scarlet           
letter from its first appearance on Hester's dress to its final aspect      
on her tombstone. You should ask yourself some questions about the          
letter, such as: Why is it embroidered with golden thread? Why is it        
so fascinating to Pearl? Why does Hester try to throw it away in the        
woods? And why can't she get rid of it? How do different characters in      
the novel perceive the letter? How do their perceptions change over         
the years? Think about those questions, and then take a look at the         
section on Symbolism.                                                       
                                                                            
TERM_PAPER_IDEAS                                                            
                           TERM PAPER IDEAS                 (HSCATERM)      
-                                                                           
  1. Who is the main character in The Scarlet Letter, Hester Prynne or      
Arthur Dimmesdale? Explain.                                                 
-                                                                           
  2. Contrast Dimmesdale and Chillingworth as scholars and men of           
intellect.                                                                  
-                                                                           
  3. Compare Hester and Mistress Hibbins as women on the fringes of         
society.                                                                    
-                                                                           
  4. Hester Prynne: The best or worst citizen of Boston 1642-1649.          
-                                                                           
  5. Roger Chillingworth: Man? Fiend? Or both?                              
-                                                                           
  6. Governor Bellingham: A typical Puritan?                                
-                                                                           
  7. Discuss the double life of any leading character in the novel.         
-                                                                           
  8. Write an entry in Hester Prynne's diary during any of the years        
covered by The Scarlet Letter.                                              
-                                                                           
  9. Arthur Dimmesdale: A study in guilt.                                   
-                                                                           
  10. Chillingworth to Hester: "I pity thee, for the good that has          
been wasted in thy nature!" Is Hester a waste?                              
-                                                                           
  11. Discuss a significant name in The Scarlet Letter.                     
-                                                                           
  12. Write a legal defense of Roger Chillingworth. Assume                  
Chillingworth does not die but is, instead, called before the court of      
Massachusetts to answer for his crimes. Make up a legal plea on his         
behalf.                                                                     
                                                                            
GLOSSARY                                                                    
                               GLOSSARY                     (HSCAGLOS)      
-                                                                           
  ADAMS, THE ELDER  Second President of the United States (1797-1801).      
-                                                                           
  ALCOTT, AMOS BRONSON  19th century Transcendentalist philosopher and      
founder of the vegetarian Utopian community Fruitlands. He was also         
the father of Louisa May Alcott, author of Little Women.                    
-                                                                           
  ANTINOMIAN  A heretic, according to the Puritans; Antinomians             
believed that God's grace freed men and women from the obligation to        
follow civil and moral law.                                                 
-                                                                           
  APPLE-PERU  A plant of the nightshade family; in literature, if           
not in botany, nightshade is always poisonous.                              
-                                                                           
  ASSABETH  A river near Concord.                                           
-                                                                           
  BACON, COKE, NOYE, AND FINCH  Late 16th-early 17th-century legalists      
who made major contributions to British common law.                         
-                                                                           
  BEADLE  A minor parish official whose duties included keeping order;      
here the beadle seems to function as a town-crier.                          
-                                                                           
  BELLINGHAM, GOVERNOR  Governor of Massachusetts on three different        
occasions during the 1640s, 50s, and 60s. Hawthorne keeps him in            
office for reasons of economy and simplicity; also, for his sister's        
sake. One historical source listed Mistress Hibbins, the witch, as          
Bellingham's sister.                                                        
-                                                                           
  BLACKSTONE, THE REVEREND MR.  The first settler on the land that          
later became Boston. He was a church of England man who didn't get          
along with the Puritans. He sold out and moved away to what is now          
Rhode Island.                                                               
-                                                                           
  BRADLEY, ENDICOTT, DUDLEY  All governors or deputy-governors of           
the young New England colony. Bradley's wife was the Puritan poet,          
Anne.                                                                       
-                                                                           
  BROOK FARM  A Utopian experiment that flourished outside of Boston        
in the 1840s. Hawthorne joined the commune for a year, but left             
disillusioned. He later made Brook Farm the subject of a novel, The         
Blithedale Romance.                                                         
-                                                                           
  BUNYAN'S AWFUL DOORWAY  The entrance to hell in Bunyan's The              
Pilgrim's Progress, a popular allegorical work of the late 17th             
century.                                                                    
-                                                                           
  BURDOCK  A coarse weed with burrs.                                        
-                                                                           
  CHANNING, WILLIAM ELLERY  A Unitarian minister and social reformer        
who was involved in the anti-slavery movement.                              
-                                                                           
  CHRONICLES OF ENGLAND  Holinshed's history of England, written in         
1577.                                                                       
-                                                                           
  DIGBY, SIR KENALM  17th-century chemist and founder of a science          
circle in Paris.                                                            
-                                                                           
  ELECTION SERMON  A sermon preached after the annual election of           
magistrates in Boston.                                                      
-                                                                           
  ELIOT, THE APOSTLE  A Puritan minister who became a missionary to         
the Indians.                                                                
-                                                                           
  EMERSON, RALPH WALDO  A Transcendentalist philosopher who believed        
in the virtues of nature and self-reliance. He is an unmentioned            
presence throughout The Scarlet Letter, for it is principally his           
beliefs that are being tested in the character of Hester Prynne.            
-                                                                           
  FIRST ANCESTOR  William Hathorne, Hawthorne's great-great-great           
grandfather, who was one of the original founders of Salem. He came to      
New England with John Winthrop in 1630. (The w was added to the name        
later.)                                                                     
-                                                                           
  GENEVA CLOAK  A black cloak worn by members of the Calvinist clergy.      
Puritanism was an offshoot of Calvinism, which originated in Geneva,        
Switzerland.                                                                
-                                                                           
  GOSSIPS  Originally friends or close acquaintances, but here perhaps      
used also in the modern sense of idle chatterers.                           
-                                                                           
  HIBBINS, MISTRESS  The wife of a wealthy, Boston merchant, listed by      
one historical source known to Hawthorne as the sister of Governor          
Bellingham. She was hanged as a witch in 1656.                              
-                                                                           
  HUTCHINSON, ANN  A religious dissenter who was excommunicated by the      
Puritans and expelled from Boston in the 1630s.                             
-                                                                           
  IRVING'S HEADLESS HORSEMAN  The ghostly figure who frightened the         
schoolmaster, Ichabod Crane, in Washington Irving's The Legend of           
Sleepy Hollow.                                                              
-                                                                           
  JOHNSON, ISAAC  One of Winthrop's original company in 1630. He            
came to America just a few months before he died. He was the richest        
man in Boston of his time.                                                  
-                                                                           
  KING JAMES  Protestant son of Mary, Queen of Scots, who followed          
Queen Elizabeth on the throne of England. His reign marked the              
beginning of a creeping decadence in the court that the Puritans            
heartily disliked.                                                          
-                                                                           
  KING'S CHAPEL  An 18th-century Boston landmark. Founded in the            
1750s, it was the first Episcopal church in America.                        
-                                                                           
  KNIGHTS TEMPLAR  Medieval order whose task it was to oversee              
pilgrims on their way to the holy land.                                     
-                                                                           
  LETHE  The river of forgetfulness in Hades, the Greek underworld.         
-                                                                           
  LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH  Popular 19th-century poet and fellow         
student of Hawthorne at Bowdoin College.                                    
-                                                                           
  LORD OF MISRULE  Officer of the English court appointed to oversee        
the Christmas revels. As the name suggests, the revels were an              
occasion for turning court decorum upside down.                             
-                                                                           
  MARRY, I TROW  Truly, I believe.                                          
-                                                                           
  MILLER, GENERAL  A hero of the War of 1812. When asked if he could        
take a British battery, the young officer replied, "I'll try, sir."         
-                                                                           
 NEPENTHE  A drug thought by the ancient Greeks to cause forgetfulness      
and loss of pain.                                                           
-                                                                           
  NEW ENGLAND PRIMER  A moralistic little book from which                   
generations of American children learned their ABCs.                        
-                                                                           
  OVERBURY, SIR THOMAS  The subject of an infamous 17th-century murder      
case. He opposed the marriage of Robert Carr to the divorced Frances        
Howard. He was sent to the Tower of London, where he was poisoned by        
Lady Howard's agents.                                                       
-                                                                           
  PEQUOD WARS  A series of raids on the Pequod villages, conducted          
in 1637 by the Massachusetts settlers, in revenge for the murder of         
one John Oldham, a member of the colony. Hundreds of Indians were           
burned alive.                                                               
-                                                                           
  SIMPLES  Medicinal plants.                                                
-                                                                           
  SUMPTUARY REGULATIONS  Laws of the colony governing expenses,             
especially for personal luxuries like food and clothing.                    
-                                                                           
  TAYLOR, GENERAL  Zachary Taylor was the 12th president of the United      
States. His election in 1848 cost Hawthorne his job as Surveyor of the      
Customs.                                                                    
-                                                                           
  THOREAU, HENRY DAVID  Author of Walden. He was a Transcendentalist        
and a friend of Hawthorne's and other members of the Concord                
literary circle.                                                            
-                                                                           
  TURNER, ANN  A brothel-keeper involved in the murder of Thomas            
Overbury. She delivered the poison to the Tower of London.                  
-                                                                           
  WHIG  In Hawthorne's time, the political party opposed to the             
Democrats.                                                                  
-                                                                           
  WILSON, JOHN  A Cambridge scholar who abandoned law in favor of           
the ministry. He came to America in 1630 and became a teacher at First      
Church in Boston. Hawthorne presents him as a leader, or senior             
member, of the Boston clergy.                                               
-                                                                           
  WINTHROP, JOHN  Official first Governor of the Massachusetts Bay          
Colony. He was the acknowledged leader of the group of Puritans who         
came to New England in 1630, the group that included Hawthorne's            
great-great-great grandfather.                                              
                                                                            
CRITICS                                                                     
                             THE CRITICS                    (HSCACRIT)      
-                                                                           
  THEME                                                                     
  In The Scarlet Letter, passion justifies nothing, while its denial        
justifies all. The fallen Eden of this world remains fallen; but the        
sinful priest purges himself by public confession, becomes worthy of        
his sole remaining way to salvation, death. Even Hester, though sin         
and suffering have made her an almost magical figure, a polluted but        
still terrible goddess, must finally accept loneliness and                  
self-restraint instead of the love and freedom she dreamed.                 
                          Leslie A. Fiedler, "Achievement and Denial"       
        Twentieth Century Interpretations of The Scarlet Letter, 1968       
-                                                                           
     You have your pure-pure young parson Dimmesdale.                       
     You have your beautiful Puritan Hester at his feet.                    
     And the first thing she does is to seduce him.                         
     And the first thing he does is to be seduced.                          
     And the second thing they do is to hug their sin in secret, and        
       gloat over it, and try to understand.                                
     Which is the myth of New England.                                      
                                                      D. H. Lawrence,       
                         Studies in Classic American Literature, 1923       
-                                                                           
  PURITANISM                                                                
  Hawthorne was morally, in an appreciative degree, a chip off the old      
block. His forefathers crossed the Atlantic for conscience sake, and        
it was the idea of the urgent conscience that haunted the                   
imagination of their so-called degenerate successor. The Puritan            
strain in his blood ran clear- there are passages in his diaries, kept      
during his residence in Europe, which might almost have been written        
by the grimmest of the old Salem worthies.                                  
                                         Henry James, Hawthorne, 1879       
-                                                                           
  SYMBOLISM                                                                 
  "The Custom House" throws light on a theme in The Scarlet Letter          
which is easily overlooked amid the ethical concerns of the book.           
Every character, in effect, re-enacts "The Custom House" scene in           
which Hawthorne himself contemplated the letter, so that the entire         
"romance" becomes a kind of exposition on the nature of symbolic            
perception. Hawthorne's subject is not only the meaning of adultery         
but also meaning in general; not only what the focal symbol means           
but also how it gains significance.                                         
                                              Charles Feidelson, Jr.,       
                              Symbolism and American Literature, 1953       
-                                                                           
  CHARACTERS                                                                
  Above all it is Hester Prynne whose passion and beauty dominate           
every other person, and color each event. Hawthorne has conceived           
her as he has conceived his scene, in the full strength of his feeling      
for ancient New England. He is the Homer of that New England, and           
Hester is its most heroic creature. Tall, with dark and abundant            
hair and deep black eyes, a rich complexion that makes modern women         
(says Hawthorne) pale and thin by comparison, and a dignity that            
throws into low relief the "delicate, evanescent, and indescribable         
grace" by which gentility in girls has since come to be known, from         
the very first- and we believe it- she is said to cast a spell over         
those who behold her.                                                       
                                      Mark Van Doren, Hawthorne, 1949       
                                                                            
ADVISORY_BOARD                                                              
                            ADVISORY BOARD                  (HSCAADVB)      
-                                                                           
  We wish to thank the following educators who helped us focus our          
Book Notes series to meet student needs and critiqued our                   
manuscripts to provide quality materials.                                   
-                                                                           
  Murray Bromberg, Principal                                                
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-                                                                           
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-                                                                           
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  Suffolk County Community College, Selden, New York                        
-                                                                           
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  State University of New York at Stony Brook                               
-                                                                           
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  National Council of Teachers of English Student Guide Series              
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-                                                                           
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  Tamalpais Union High School District                                      
  Mill Valley, California                                                   
-                                                                           
  Marvin J. LaHood, Professor of English                                    
  State University of New York College at Buffalo                           
-                                                                           
  Robert Lecker, Associate Professor of English                             
  McGill University, Montreal, Quebec, Canada                               
-                                                                           
  David E. Manly, Professor of Educational Studies                          
  State University of New York College at Geneseo                           
-                                                                           
  Bruce Miller, Associate Professor of Education                            
  State University of New York at Buffalo                                   
-                                                                           
  Frank O'Hare, Professor of English                                        
  Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio                                     
-                                                                           
  Faith Z. Schullstrom, Member of Executive Committee                       
  National Council of Teachers of English                                   
  Director of Curriculum and Instruction                                    
  Guilderland Central School District, New York                             
-                                                                           
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  Chicago Public Schools, Chicago, Illinois                                 
-                                                                           
-                                                                           
                    THE END OF BARRON'S BOOK NOTES                          
               NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S THE SCARLET LETTER                     
                                                                            
                                                                            
                               BIBLIOGRAPHY                 (HSCABIBL)      
                                                                            
SCARLET_LETTER                                                              
                           FURTHER READING                                  
-                                                                           
  Titles marked with an asterisk (*) are available in paperback.            
-                                                                           
  Feidelson, Charles, Jr. Symbolism and American Literature.                
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1953.                                 
-                                                                           
  Hawthorne, Julian. Hawthorne and His Circle. Darby: Folcroft Library      
Editions, 1903.                                                             
-                                                                           
  Hawthorne, Julian. Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife: A Biography.         
Weston, ON: R. West, 1973; first published, 1884.                           
-                                                                           
  Hawthorne, ed. A. N. Kaul. (Twentieth Century Views Series).              
Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1966.                                
-                                                                           
  James, Henry. Hawthorne. (English Men of Letters Series). London:         
Macmillan & Co., Ltd., 1879.                                                
-                                                                           
  * Lawrence, D. H. Studies in Classic American Literature. New             
York: The Viking Press, 1961; first published 1923.                         
-                                                                           
  Levin, Harry. The Power of Blackness. New York: Alfred A. Knopf,          
Inc., 1958.                                                                 
-                                                                           
  Lewis, R. W. B. The American Adam. Chicago: University of Chicago         
Press, 1955.                                                                
-                                                                           
  Matthiessen, F. O. American Renaissance. New York: Oxford University      
Press, 1941.                                                                
-                                                                           
  The Scarlet Later, ed. John C. Gerber. (Twentieth Century                 
Interpretations Series). Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1968.       
-                                                                           
  The Shock of Recognition. "Volume I: The 19th Century," ed. Edmund        
Wilson. New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1943.                                   
-                                                                           
  Stewart, Randall. Nathaniel Hawthorne: A Biography. New Haven:            
Yale University Press, 1948.                                                
-                                                                           
  Van Doren, Mark. Hawthorne. (American Men of Letters Series).             
Westport: Greenwood Press, 1973; first published 1949.                      
-                                                                           
                         AUTHOR'S OTHER WORKS                               
-                                                                           
  * The Blithedale Romance (1852)                                           
  * The House of the Seven Gables (1851)                                    
  * The Marble Faun (1860)                                                  
    Mosses from an Old Manse (1846)                                         
    Twice-Told Tales (1837)                                                 
-                                                                           
  Also:                                                                     
-                                                                           
  * The Portable Hawthorne, ed. Malcolm Cowley. New York: Penguin,          
1977.                                                                       
-                                                                           
-                                                                           
         THE END OF THE BIBLIOGRAPHY FOR BARRON'S BOOK NOTES                
               NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S THE SCARLET LETTER                     
                                                                            
                                      1851                                  
                                                                            
                             NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE'S                          
                         THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES                      
                                                                            
                               by Linda Corrente                            
                                                                            
                               SERIES COORDINATOR                           
                          Murray Bromberg, Principal                        
                Wang High School of Queens, Holliswood, New York            
      Past President, High School Principals Association of New York City   
                                                                            
                                ACKNOWLEDGMENTS                             
         Our thanks to Milton Katz and Julius Liebb for their advisory      
                      assistance on the Book Notes series.                  
                                                                            
                                                                            
            (C) Copyright 1985 by Barron's Educational Series, Inc.         
                                                                            
   Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1993, World Library, Inc.     
                                                                            
CONTENTS                                                                    
                               CONTENTS                                     
                  SECTION.......................... SEARCH ON               
                                                                            
          THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES................. HSEVAUTH                
                                                                            
          THE NOVEL                                                         
          The Plot................................. HSEVPLOT                
          The Characters........................... HSEVCHAR                
          Other Elements                                                    
               Setting............................. HSEVSETT                
               Themes.............................. HSEVTHEM                
               Style............................... HSEVSTYL                
               Point of View....................... HSEVVIEW                
               Form and Structure.................. HSEVFORM                
          THE STORY................................ HSEVSTOR                
                                                                            
          A STEP BEYOND                                                     
          Tests and Answers........................ HSEVTEST                
          Term Paper Ideas......................... HSEVTERM                
          Glossary................................. HSEVGLOS                
          The Critics.............................. HSEVCRIT                
                                                                            
          Advisory Board........................... HSEVADVB                
                                                                            
          Bibliography............................. HSEVBIBL                
                                                                            
AUTHOR_AND_HIS_TIMES                                                        
                       THE AUTHOR AND HIS TIMES             (HSEVAUTH)      
-                                                                           
  In our late teens, many of us have to make career decisions. Will we      
prepare to be engineers, ballet dancers, composers, professional            
athletes, fashion designers? Nathaniel Hawthorne at age 17 was at that      
very crossroads of his life.                                                
  In a letter to his mother, written in 1821, Hawthorne ruled out           
joining the clergy ("Oh, no, mother, I was not born to vegetate             
forever in one place and to live and die as calm and tranquil as a          
puddle of water"). Becoming a lawyer didn't seem to be a wise choice        
either ("...one half of them are in a state of actual starvation").         
And as to medicine, Hawthorne could not contemplate making a living         
"by the diseases and infirmities of my fellow creatures." Instead,          
he tentatively suggested, "What do you think of my becoming an              
author and relying for support upon my pen?"                                
  We don't know how his mother responded, but the millions of               
readers who have enjoyed Hawthorne's work are pleased, no doubt,            
that he pursued his goal, ultimately taking his place as one of the         
leading figures in all of American literature. In addition,                 
Hawthorne is seen today as a writer of great influence on subsequent        
generations of storytellers. The effect of Hawthorne's creation of          
isolated and withdrawn characters, and his probing of the psychology        
that led to their alienation, may now be seen in the novels of such         
various writers as Henry James, William Faulkner, Albert Camus, and         
Robert Penn Warren.                                                         
  Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in 1804 in Salem, Massachusetts, a city      
already infamous in American history for its campaign in the 1690s          
against "witches." In The House of the Seven Gables, Hawthorne uses         
references to Salem witchcraft in his examination of the forces that        
motivated some of the characters in his novel.                              
  Young Hawthorne had a slight limp that hindered him enough to keep        
him from engaging in sports, and so he turned to reading- showing a         
special fondness for William Shakespeare, the English poet John             
Milton, and the novels of the French writer and philosopher Jean            
Jacques Rousseau. This interest in literature later led to his              
rejection of other possible professions in favor of becoming a              
full-time writer.                                                           
  After graduating from Bowdoin College, in Maine, at the age of            
twenty-one, Hawthorne returned to Salem, and for the next twelve years      
he lived there in relative seclusion. He had made a personal                
commitment to the literary life and spent that famous hibernation time      
developing his craft. Hawthorne had no regrets about investing that         
much time in honing his skills: "If I had sooner made my escape into        
the world, I should have grown hard and rough... and my heart might         
have become callous by rude encounters with the multitude. But              
living in solitude till the fullness of time was come, I still kept         
the dew of youth with the freshness of my heart."                           
  Hawthorne was drawn out of his long isolation when he fell in love        
with Sophia Amelia Peabody, of Salem. Before they were married in           
1842, he spent six months at Brook Farm, a commune outside Boston that      
attracted people who were in search of a utopian society. There he          
talked with such intellectuals as Henry David Thoreau (both men had         
a great deal in common since they enjoyed solitude and simplicity) and      
Ralph Waldo Emerson.                                                        
  Brook Farm was just one expression of the liberal spirit of the           
times. Under Emerson, The Transcendentalist Movement tried to change        
the way people thought about themselves. The Transcendentalists             
believed that people are basically good and ultimately perfectible.         
They believed communion with nature, reading literary classics, and         
studying Eastern religions were important elements in elevating the         
human condition. Thoreau, also a Transcendentalist, chronicled his own      
experiment in returning to nature at Walden Pond.                           
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Electronically Enhanced Text (C) Copyright 1991 - 1993 World Library, Inc.

