Hester Prynne is with child, but has been
without visible husband for too long to account for her condition, and in
seventeenth century puritan New England this is not just embarrassing, it is a
heinous sin.
Worse, she will not disclose the father so
has to face the ignominy alone and her penance includes the wearing of bright
red A (for adulteress?) on her clothing – the scarlet letter.
At the point of her denouncement her long
lost husband turns up but decides to keep stum about their relationship, and
swears Hester to secrecy with the threat of revealing the identity of father of
her child, which he has cleverly deduced.
Time passes. Hester gains some acceptance in
society and daughter Pearl thrives in a wild and woolly way. But the male
members of the triangle decline; one into a guilt-induced despair and the other
into a self-consuming obsession of revenge served ice cold.
This American classic is a slow burner, so
slow at the beginning that it is a wonder it ignites at all, with the ‘Custom
House’ introductory irrelevant and not very interesting. Once the story proper
starts there is power, created by the ponderous, repetitive, overblown prose,
and a growing, not tension, but pressure. This builds like a boil on the back
of an adolescent’s neck, and similarly you know the outcome will be messy and painful but bring eventual relief.
I’m glad I can now say I’ve read it, but my
recommendation is only embark on it if you seek similar satisfaction - and skip
that introductory.
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