| Quote #1 In a moment, however, wisely judging that one token of her shame would but poorly serve to hide another, she took the baby on her arm, and, with a burning blush, and yet a haughty smile, and a glance that would not be abashed, looked around at her townspeople and neighbours. On the breast of her gown, in fine red cloth, surrounded with an elaborate embroidery and fantastic flourishes of gold thread, appeared the letter A. (2.10) |
Hester embraces the blame that has been cast upon her. She is nervous at first (we would be, too), but she flashes that "haughty smile" at the townspeople and shows that she accepts their punishment. In this way, it almost feels like she neutralizes the power of the scarlet letter. We also find it interesting that the narrator describes the onlookers as "neighbors" at this moment. It’s as if our narrator wants to remind us that they are Hester’s equals.
| Quote #2 "[…]Be not silent from any mistaken pity and tenderness for him; for, believe me, Hester, though he were to step down from a high place, and stand there beside thee, on thy pedestal of shame, yet better were it so, than to hide a guilty heart through life."(3.26) |
We can’t get over this moment, because the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale seems to be begging Hester to reveal her lover (a.k.a. him), and yet he won’t do so himself. Why does he give Hester the responsibility of ratting her lover out, and why doesn’t he just fess up right here and now? Even at this early stage in the book, the Reverend already seems to be wracked with guilt and grief.
| Quote #3 Calm, gentle, passionless, as he appeared, there was yet, we fear, a quiet depth of malice, hitherto latent, but active now, in this unfortunate old man, which led him to imagine a more intimate revenge than any mortal had ever wreaked upon an enemy. To make himself the one trusted friend, to whom should be confided all the fear, the remorse, the agony, the ineffectual repentance, the backward rush of sinful thoughts, expelled in vain! All that guilty sorrow, hidden from the world, whose great heart would have pitied and forgiven, to be revealed to him, the Pitiless, to him, the Unforgiving! All that dark treasure to be lavished on the very man, to whom nothing else could so adequately pay the debt of vengeance! (11.1) |
Roger Chillingworth is one chilly man. The language here gets interesting. The narrator is basically saying that Chillingworth devises a kind of revenge that is more personal and cutthroat than any other person has ever devised. Whoa. Chillingworth stops at nothing to seek out the guilty party, and in doing so, he seems to display some behavior that is not very, well, neighborly.