"A" Study in Scarlet

Is Hester in Hawthorne's work a heroine? Some critics argue that Hester's silent endurance of the scarlet letter's shame deviates from traditional heroic archetypes. Yet it must be emphasized that Hester was never intended to conform to conventional protagonist norms. She is guilty, and in the eyes of her contemporaries, such individuals deserved no sympathy. Hawthorne's decision to stage the inner world of such a character was undoubtedly rebellious. If we momentarily abandon traditional frameworks, it becomes evident that Hester remains a hero throughout the narrative.

Initially, the "A" signifies adultery. Yet when emerging from prison, Hester shows neither self-abandonment nor shame. Hawthorne specifically highlights her composure: "And never had Hester Prynne appeared more lady-like, in the antique interpretation of the term, than as she issued from the prison" (Chapter 2). As Romain Rolland observed: "There is only one heroism in the world: to see the world as it is and still love it." Here, Hester transforms shame into strength, becoming her own hero. Puritan society weaponizes the scarlet "A" as violent semiotics to fix her identity as the signifier of "Adulteress." Yet through her embroidery, Hester converts it into "a specimen of her delicate and imaginative skill" (Chapter 2), using aesthetic practice to dismantle the symbol's punitive function. She refuses to be crushed by shame, instead wielding the letter to declare that authorities hold no jurisdiction over her inner world. They may destroy her physically, but never conquer her spiritually.

Exiled to "a small thatched cottage on the town's outskirts" (Chapter 5), Hester unexpectedly gains spiritual liberation. Like Cosimo in The Baron in the Trees who voluntarily ascends to the branches, Hester achieves a unique interactive relationship with villagers. No longer fully belonging to their world, she attains equal footing with the social order itself. To villagers, Hester becomes an anomaly: Why did she sin? Why doesn't she submit? Why won't she leave? Their assumptions about those bound by social order collapse before her. Compelled to re-examine her without prejudice, they gradually transform her into "the public nurse, counselor, and confessor" (Chapter 13) . Her cottage is a refuge for those seeking temporary escape from societal constraints.

To the innocent Pearl, her mother is undeniably heroic. Without paternal support, Hester single-handedly raises Pearl through hardship. Yet Pearl as "the living scarlet letter" (Chapter 6) embodies both the mark of past shame and a symbol of future freedom. Again, Hester converts a stigmatized symbol into a source of power — this time one actively generating meaning. Through nurturing Pearl, Hester gains self-worth without requiring social validation. Puritan society attempts to imprison her in a linear timeline of "sin-punishment-redemption," but Hester transforms punishment into resistance and even happiness. As Camus reimagines Sisyphus: "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a human heart." Each embroidery stitch becomes Hester's act of seizing the present, converting disciplinary time into creative duration. Through labor, she triumphs in the master-slave dialectic between humiliation and empowerment. Here, the "A" evolves into "Able."

Another unintended consequence of Puritan punishment is Hester's acquisition of an outsider's perspective, enabling critical examination of societal norms. She emerges as a figure of feminine subjectivity. In conversations with Dimmesdale, she critiques Puritan legal severity and envisions a future of female autonomy. Hawthorne foreshadows her progressive ideals: "The angel and apostle of the coming revelation must be a woman...whose wisdom shall not be bought by dusky grief, but borne aloft by ethereal joy" (Chapter 24). Though acknowledging societal limitations, Hester's vision of gender equality establishes her as a proto-feminist. She refuses to flee Boston, choosing instead to confront her past ("Here had been her sin; here, her sorrow; and here was yet to be her penitence," Chapter 24) — manifesting her resolve to forge new identities on her own terms. Thus emerges the final layer of "A" as "Angel" — the herald of truth ushering in a new world.

(It's a somewhat casual essay, but I'm very satisfied with it.)