I fell in love with Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter when I was in ninth grade. It was slow going initially, two weeks for the first half of the book, but once I got to the scene in the forest, I couldn't put it down till I finished it.
All in all, I probably misread the book, finding romance, love conquers all, and such glorious tragedy.
Subsequently I read The House of Seven Gables, The Blithdale Romance, and even The Marble Fawn, disappointed that they held not the magic of The Scarlet Letter.
Here in May, the Sullivan County library held its book sale, and I found Twentieth Century Interpretations of the Scarlet Letter and the Twayne series biography of Hawthorne. How could the library part with such jewels, but they have now come into my possession, at $1.00 each. They show little signs of wear, a little highlighting, maybe.
I have taught Hawthorne many times, most notably his short stories. My favorites are "Young Goodman Brown" and "Rappaccini's Daughter." Currently I'm reading The Jane Austen Book Club, and I'm reminded how much Hawthorne has influenced my own life. His theme of love and redemption weaves through the complexity of life. Just when you think you know the answers, life throws you new and perplexling challenges. If your guiding principle is love, you're probably doing it right.
There's one interpretation of The Scarlet Letter that I don't find here. Somewhere I read a theory that Chillingsworth was actually poisoning the man he was treating, suspecting the preacher had seduced his young bride. But Hawthorne is certainly not explicit on this point.
Anyway, whatever the critics say, I remember D. H. Lawrence's advide: "Trust the tale, not the teller." Maybe my ninth grade reading will stand muster after all: Love conquers all.
But I can't leave Hawthorne without one further story. I was teaching "Ethan Brand," the story of a man who went in search of the unpardonable sin. He searched the whole world over, but found it finally in his own heart. His heart was a heart of stone. On one quiz, I had asked, "For Hawthorne, what is the unpardonable sin?" It was a simple question, I thought. "There is no unpardonable sin," a student had written. Just as my pen was poised to mark it wrong, I read on: "Because, if you ask forgiveness, you will be forgiven." Of course. The unpardonable sin was Faust's, Dr. Faustus's, PRIDE, the worst of the seven deadly sins. To be too proud to admit your sin and ask forgiveness, that was the unpardonable sin. It was the sin of Goodman Brown, the young man who lost his Faith. And for Hawthorne, that was the sin of the Puritans, to see themselves as superior to their fellow beings. They and they alone were saved, and everybody else was damned to hell. Predestination! Even the Presbyterian church took that belief off its list about 1906, or so a Presbyterian minister told me once. Hawthorne ends "Young Goodman Brown" with this judgment: "And his final hour was gloom."
As a teenager, as a young college student, I saw a lot of hypocricy. I still do. With Hawthorne, I vot
All in all, I probably misread the book, finding romance, love conquers all, and such glorious tragedy.
Subsequently I read The House of Seven Gables, The Blithdale Romance, and even The Marble Fawn, disappointed that they held not the magic of The Scarlet Letter.
Here in May, the Sullivan County library held its book sale, and I found Twentieth Century Interpretations of the Scarlet Letter and the Twayne series biography of Hawthorne. How could the library part with such jewels, but they have now come into my possession, at $1.00 each. They show little signs of wear, a little highlighting, maybe.
I have taught Hawthorne many times, most notably his short stories. My favorites are "Young Goodman Brown" and "Rappaccini's Daughter." Currently I'm reading The Jane Austen Book Club, and I'm reminded how much Hawthorne has influenced my own life. His theme of love and redemption weaves through the complexity of life. Just when you think you know the answers, life throws you new and perplexling challenges. If your guiding principle is love, you're probably doing it right.
There's one interpretation of The Scarlet Letter that I don't find here. Somewhere I read a theory that Chillingsworth was actually poisoning the man he was treating, suspecting the preacher had seduced his young bride. But Hawthorne is certainly not explicit on this point.
Anyway, whatever the critics say, I remember D. H. Lawrence's advide: "Trust the tale, not the teller." Maybe my ninth grade reading will stand muster after all: Love conquers all.
But I can't leave Hawthorne without one further story. I was teaching "Ethan Brand," the story of a man who went in search of the unpardonable sin. He searched the whole world over, but found it finally in his own heart. His heart was a heart of stone. On one quiz, I had asked, "For Hawthorne, what is the unpardonable sin?" It was a simple question, I thought. "There is no unpardonable sin," a student had written. Just as my pen was poised to mark it wrong, I read on: "Because, if you ask forgiveness, you will be forgiven." Of course. The unpardonable sin was Faust's, Dr. Faustus's, PRIDE, the worst of the seven deadly sins. To be too proud to admit your sin and ask forgiveness, that was the unpardonable sin. It was the sin of Goodman Brown, the young man who lost his Faith. And for Hawthorne, that was the sin of the Puritans, to see themselves as superior to their fellow beings. They and they alone were saved, and everybody else was damned to hell. Predestination! Even the Presbyterian church took that belief off its list about 1906, or so a Presbyterian minister told me once. Hawthorne ends "Young Goodman Brown" with this judgment: "And his final hour was gloom."
As a teenager, as a young college student, I saw a lot of hypocricy. I still do. With Hawthorne, I vot
RSS Feed