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In preparation for this series of \u00a0Blogging the Classics, I went through all the SparkNotes comments on \u00a0The Scarlet Letter<\/em>:<\/p>\n This is fair. In all likelihood you did not \u00a0choose<\/em> to read this book. \u00a0There it was on your syllabus, slapped between the more palatable Of Mice and Men<\/em> and \u00a0Jane Eyre<\/em>, \u00a0the literary equivalent of finding walnuts in a perfectly good brownie. \u00a0Hawthorne \u00a0gets his bad rap from \u00a0being \u00a0incomprehensible. I get it. I mean, once \u00a0I \u00a0counted seven commas in one of his \u00a0sentences and \u00a0there’s really no \u00a0excuse for \u00a0that kind of syntactical \u00a0catastrophe.<\/p>\n But the long and short of it is that you can’t just watch \u00a0Easy A<\/a> \u00a0<\/em>and expect to ace your English quiz. I \u00a0appreciate a romcom that confronts the pervasive double standard of \u00a0slut-shaming as much as the next person, but my main takeaway from that movie was the chorus \u00a0of \u00a0“Pocket Full of Sunshine<\/a>” \u00a0and nothing more.<\/p>\n If you’re reading this, chances are you’re either \u00a0looking for something to make the Scarlet Letter \u00a0<\/em>journey a lot easier, or you’re my mom. Either way, there is \u00a0strength in numbers, so dip \u00a0the chip on your shoulders in medium-hot salsa and trust that we \u00a0will \u00a0get \u00a0through this tome \u00a0together. Because “literature books” do not have to be “ugh” “these days.”<\/p>\n Allow \u00a0me to begin by hooking you \u00a0with a \u00a0description<\/a> of Hester Prynne as “the embodiment of deep contradictions: bad and beautiful, holy and sinful, conventional and radical.” \u00a0In other words, Lana Del Rey minus the flower crowns. ALSO: \u00a0Hester is something of a \u00a0proto-feminist heroine \u00a0in a deeply patriarchal Puritan society, \u00a0and Hawthorne wrote about her SEVENTY years before women could even vote.<\/p>\n If that doesn’t make you feel better about reading this, here’s a list of things to look forward to:<\/p>\n Just covering my bases. \u00a0Alright, from the top:<\/p>\n Introduction: The Custom House<\/strong><\/p>\n Unfortunately, \u00a0the \u00a0adultery we were all promised is not in this chapter. This is probably because the country \u00a0was one nation under God in 1850 and Nathaniel didn’t want to poke a \u00a0beehive \u00a0by opening \u00a0his novel \u00a0with a saucy violation of \u00a0the tenth commandment.<\/p>\n We are \u00a0launched directly \u00a0into a \u00a043-page introduction by a nameless ex-employee of a United States customs port. I will henceforth \u00a0refer to him as “Nathaniel 2.0,” because I googled it and it turns out this \u00a0intro is \u00a0semi-autobiographical. \u00a0Nathaniel 2.0 \u00a0gains our trust by declaring that he hates a lot of things, most of all \u00a0government bureaucracy. Classic!<\/p>\n Actually, the first thing we learn is that even though he hates talking about himself, this is the second time in his life that he’s had no other choice but \u00a0to write an autobiography. To clarify, we’re on Nathaniel 2.0’s second autobiography. He \u00a0has a \u00a0lot of opinions, starting with how frustrating it is that he keeps moving \u00a0back to his hometown of Salem, Massachusetts, even though he hates it:<\/p>\n It would be quite as reasonable to form a sentimental attachment to a disarranged checker-board.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n If you were wondering what he \u00a0thinks of you moving back in with your parents after college: \u00a0“Human nature will not flourish, any more than a potato, if it be planted and replanted, for too long a series of generations, in the same worn-out soil.” (If you’re a potato, I’m a potato.)<\/p>\n We also learn \u00a0that there is a special place in Nathaniel’s \u00a0heart for his ancestors, a place that he has ripped out and stabbed with a Basilisk fang \u00a0one hundred times over because he comes from a long line of terrible people. \u00a0The first of these people \u00a0to come to America \u00a0was a judge who convicted lots of women in the Salem witch trials. Nathaniels \u00a0begat Nathaniels, and all the Nathaniels \u00a0thereafter “inherited the persecuting spirit.”<\/p>\n Even though they would’ve thought he was a total loser (his words, not mine), our \u00a0narrator feels personally responsible for \u00a0the misdeeds of these Nathaniels and prays that whatever curse was placed upon their house \u00a0is now long gone.<\/p>\n Nathaniel 2.0 rambles a little about Salem, which is hard to understand because he \u00a0uses way too many goddamn commas. [Let me pause here to give you the only useful piece of advice I have in this fleeting \u00a0mortal life: ignore most of Hawthorne’s \u00a0commas and he will \u00a0make 80% more sense.]<\/p>\n It becomes \u00a0clear that most of his coworkers \u00a0are old farts with “moudly jokes” who sleep on the job\u2014the exception being his boss, the Inspector. Even though the Inspector is disturbingly \u00a0shallow \u00a0and lacks a moral compass, Nathaniel 2.0 \u00a0has the hots for him.<\/p>\n [He was] certainly one of the most wonderful specimens of winter-green that you would be likely to discover in a lifetime’s search. With his florid cheek, his compact figure, smartly arrayed in a bright-buttoned blue coat, his brisk and vigorous step, and his hale and hearty aspect, altogether, he seemed\u2014not young, indeed\u2014but a kind of new contrivance of Mother Nature in the shape of man, whom age and infirmity had no business to touch.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n \u00f0\u0178\u201d\u00a5\u00f0\u0178\u201d\u00a5\u00f0\u0178\u201d\u00a5<\/p>\n He admits that he might’ve spent too much time talking \u00a0about the Inspector, but he’s not sorry about it. In fact, he “should be glad to dwell at considerably more length.” After all \u00a0this, he says \u00a0the Inspector is \u00a0not important to the story. \u00a0Frankly I don’t believe him \u00a0on this one, but okay.<\/p>\n The next person we’re introduced to is the Collector. I kid you not that he \u00a0takes five pages to explain to us the \u00a0specifics \u00a0of how and why this man \u00a0was “mild and kindly.”<\/p>\n Nathaniel 2.0:<\/strong> \u00a0If the Collector ever killed a man, he probably killed him in a mild and kindly manner. \u00a0If he were \u00a0a murderer, he’d be a philanthropic murderer. He likes FLOWERS, is what I’m saying.<\/p>\n I’m confused by this emphasis on flowers, so I’m assuming it’s a metaphor.<\/p>\n Next, he \u00a0says that even though he respects \u00a0his intellectual equals\u2014Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow\u2014he’s sick of them because they all have \u00a0the saaaame, boring Kantian opinions. Guys, did Nate \u00a0just roast \u00a0his real-life transcendentalist bros? In any case, this is his \u00a0explanation for \u00a0taking a million pages to describe the refreshingly inferior people he worked with \u00a0at the Custom House.<\/p>\n During this time, he alleges that he stopped reading and writing \u00a0because he was preoccupied with work, but it’s pretty clear that “work” refers mostly to dreaming about the time he \u00a0heard \u00a0the Inspector \u00a0smack his lips<\/a>.<\/p>\n Okay, so \u00a0he wasn’t engaging in any ~intellectual pursuits~ at the Custom House. \u00a0Next line:<\/p>\n “But the past was not dead.”<\/em><\/p>\n\n
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\nYoutube – Scarlet Letter<\/a>\/Lana Del Rey<\/a><\/em><\/small><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n