The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

A classic early settler tale of sin in the camp and the various approaches to dealing with it, the problem with Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter is that too many interpretive versions have been made and the power of the original has been lost (or at least defused). I remember sitting in a theater during college watching Demi Moore star as adulteress Hester Prynne and wondering what the big deal was - the storyline seemed awkward and pieced together. Now having read Hawthorne's original novel, it all makes sense: the stories were hardly the same and, indeed, the book is always better than the movie.

The tale according to Hawthorne begins (and doesn't pick up an hour-and-a-half into the movie with) Hester Prynne's release from prison with her new baby, Pearl, in tow. Pearl has been born out of wedlock, and this Puritan community has given Hester the chance to publicly confess her sin by naming the father, something she refuses to do. As a result, the community forces Hester to wear a scarlet "A" on her bosom, which she does for years to follow.

But, while Hester somehow makes peace with her transgression, the one with whom she transgressed does not. Hawthorne introduces us to Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale - learned scholor, trusted spiritual leader, tormented soul - who, by his position as minister, must try to help Hester publicly repent of her sin when he, thanks to his fit of passion, is trying to do the same with his privately. Years pass, and while Hester is chastised by the community because of her adultery, Arthur is lauded by them because of his role. And yet his heart begins to suffer both emotionally and physically under the burden of his burden:

"He had told his hearers that he was altogether vile, a viler companion of the vilest, the worst of sinners, an abomination, a thing of unimaginable iniquity; and that the only wonder was that they did not see his wretched body shrivelled up before their eyes, by the burning wrath of the Almighty? Could there be plainer speech than this? Would not the people start up in their seats, by a simultaneous impulse, and tear him down out of the pulpit, which he defiled? Not so, indeed! They heard it all, and did but reverence him the more. They little guessed what deadly purport lurked in those self-condemning words. 'The godly youth!' said they among themselves. 'The saint on earth! Alas, if he discern such sinfulness in his own white soul, what horrid spectacle would he behold in thine or mine!'

The minister well knew - subtle, but remorseful hypocrite that he was! - the light in which his vague confession would be viewed. He had striven to put a cheat upon himself by making the avowal of a guilty conscience, but had gained only one other sin, and a self-acknowledged shame, without the momentary relief of being self-deceived. He had spoken the very truth, and transformed it into the veriest falsehood. And yet, by the constitution of his nature, he loved the truth, and loathed the lie, as few men ever did. Therefore, above all things else, he loathed his miserable self!"

Hawthorne has much to say in the context of his story: his dislike for religion as civil law is obvious, as is what must have seemed a very progressive viewpoint on the seriousness of sin as well. Though his writing is representative of traditional mid-1800's style and somewhat ornate by today's standards, it is quite readable once adjusted to, and even pleasurable to read. But, as also with most mid-1800's literature, it is not just the writing but the strength of story and characters that make this period what it is in our American literature. The Scarlet Letter is both a good story and insightful commentary on the power of sin, confession, and need for redemption. A new favorite.