The Scarlet Letter: Part 4

Fairies: myth or reality? I’m David Attenborough and in today’s chapter I’ll be your guide as we observe the strange greeting ritual of the emotionally stunted Puritans.

Our scene opens with a juvenile Puritan playing in the woods. Although she is a member of a species traditionally feared by nature, she has developed a unique symbiosis with her surroundings. She quietly stalks through the underbrush gathering flowers, leaves, and other adornments. These she uses to disguise herself as a forest nymph. The clever ruse works and the scene turns to a Snow White musical number: flowers sing to her, foxes hop up for head pats, and birds fly around with streamers. No mention is made of an earlier scene in which she was torturing small animals on the beach. The juvenile is truly a master of disguise.

She hears her mother calling to her but she has is with an adult male Puritan with unknown intentions. She is also disconcerted from her mother’s loose hair and lack of the traditional scarlet letter. She had observed the mating ritual known as “conversation” occur between them while she was gathering her forest decorations, but the outcome of the ritual is uncertain. Is he friend or foe? She refuses to cross the small brook to join them.

The mother attempts to draw her near, but the juvenile simply stands pointing at the place the scarlet letter once rested. Attempts at reassurance are met with primal wails of anger. The mother responds by retrieving the letter and fastening it in the traditional place. She tucks her hair back under a cap, and at last the juvenile is mollified. The mother attempts to introduce her to the newest pack member, but this unwelcome rival is not accepted by the juvenile. This may happen in time, but for now the reluctant trio move on to continue foraging. They must be ever watchful of rival herds marking their own territory. Now that the pack has the addition of a supremely timid male, their chances for survival are significantly diminished.

This has been David Attenborough, signing off.

The minister continues on his forest journey back to town and begins to make plans for their departure. Hester is to secure passage for them on a Spanish vessel that is currently in the harbor. It is set to depart for Bristol in four days time. The minister finds this timing quite fortuitous as he is to give an election sermon¹ in three days time, and is satisfied that he can leave the town having competed his duties.

Anticipation for a new life puts a new spring in his step and instead of the weary shamble he had before, he straight up Tarzans through the woods to home, swinging on branches. He bursts into the town square and it takes every ounce of self restraint not to be all “Howdy losers! There’s a new Dimmsdale in town!” He is so done with this town and its bullshit that he wants to whisper horrible things to everyone he meets until he runs into Mistress Hibbins.

I realize I may not have adequately explained Mistress Hibbins, as she has only played a minor role thus far. She is based on a real, historical figure who was suspected of being a literal, actual witch who practices sorcery and worships the devil in the woods. She is also the sister of Governor Hibbins, which is probably the only reason she has not been hanged yet. I say yet because in real life she did get hanged for witchcraft after the events of this book. All good spells come to an end I suppose.

Hibbins: Yo Dimmsdale! I see you were hanging out in the woods. You should bring me along next time and I can give you a proper introduction to the devil!

Dimmsdale: Nah, I’m good. No devil worship today, just came back from seeing my buddy Eliot who was out taming the savages and all that. As we definitely embody righteousness and not judgmental vengeance we are definitely the best suited for that role.

Hibbins: Riiiiggghhht. Well next time you need to go “tame the savages” [wink wink] let me know.

She walks off chuckling while he wonders if he has sold his soul to the devil and that’s why he has all these nasty thoughts. He rushes home and enters his room with a sigh of relief. After a few moments his rest is interrupted by a knock on the door and old Chillingworth strolls in.

Chillingworth: Welcome back! You’re looking sickly as usual. Want some help from your old buddy to nurse you back to health for your sermon.

Dimmsdale: Nah, actually I’m doing pretty good. The fresh air and seeing the tamed savages did me good. I don’t think I need your help anymore actually.

They have a stare off. Chillingworth realizes that Dimmsdale knows they are enemies. Dimmsdale realizes that Chillingworth knows that he knows they are enemies. The narrator realizes that Dimmsdale knows that Chillingworth knows that Dimmsdale knows. The reader realizes that the narrator knows that Dimmsdale Knows that Chillingworth knows that Dimmsdale knows.

Of course one of the rules of a melodrama like this is that no one is allowed to let on to the fact that everyone is fully aware of where everyone else stands. Thus the play continues.

Chillingworth: Sure you don’t need some help? Need to be big and strong for your election sermon you know. Wouldn’t want the townsfolk to think you won’t be here come this time next year.

Dimmsdale: Oh I will totes be gone. To a better world I hope. But for right now I am fine, thank you.

Chillingworth: Good to hear! Perhaps all my ministrations have taken effect and now I can take all the credit for curing you!

Dimmsdale: Right, let’s hope so.

Darth Chillingworth leaves, and Dimmsdale writes a big long sermon. What it includes is yet to be seen.

1. According to this article, an election sermon was basically a come to Jesus lecture about how America and freedom were delivered to them by God and it was their duty to be worthy of such gifts.

People have come from far and wide for the election sermon. The new governor is to be appointed after the death of the old one. In proper pious fashion he is throwing a parade for himself. Hester wears all grey and hides in the background. She inwardly smirks about the fact it is the last anyone will see of her. The close observer might notice her muttering “You’ll see. You’ll ALL see,” but no one is paying that much attention.

Demon Child is excited by all the commotion.

Pearl: What’s all the hubbub about? Is it a play day for everyone? Look, the blacksmith is all cleaned up and wearing his Sunday clothes. He looks like he would be having fun if only someone would show him how.

Hester: There will be a big parade for the governor and ministers and all the important people. That way everyone can admire how humble they are.

Pearl: Will Dimmsdale greet us?

Hester: No, not now, and we can’t greet him either.

Pearl: What a sad, strange little man. He greets us in the dead of night and has us stand on the scaffold with him. He welcomes us in the forest when we are all alone, but here in broad daylight he ignores us. So strange.

Hester: Never you mind about that. Let me distract you by pointing out how happy everyone is! Or at least attempting to be, since being happy is a very foreign concept for them.

And indeed they are happy! Well, less miserable at least. As Hawthorne explains it: “Into this festal season of the year…the Puritans compressed whatever mirth and public joy they deemed allowable to human infirmity; thereby so far dispelling the customary cloud, that, for the space of a single holiday, they appeared scarcely more grave than most other communities at a period of general affliction.”

See? Not happy as much as just miserable instead of extra miserable. Moderation in all things of course. Juggling and singing are too much like witchcraft, after all. Still though, it was more fun than the next few generations had, since they still had a dim memory of people being actually happy at festivals back in England. The next couple of generations were about as fun as a witch trial. Literally.

It’s a different story off to one side, where a group of Spanish sailors have come ashore to watch the spectacle. They are described as straight up pirates, who work part time at Pirates of the Caribbean in Disneyland, so it’s said. One of the flashiest pirates, with an eye patch and matching parrot, strolls into view talking with Darth Chillingworth. They finish talking and the pirate, who is the captain, strolls up to Hester to inform her that Darth Chillingworth will be joining them in their voyage!

In utter shock, she turns to look at Chillingworth, who grins back at her with his signature lack of decency. Well that’s a plot twist that neither Hester nor I saw coming!

Before Hester has a chance to gather her thoughts about this disturbing turn of events, the parade starts. First are the soldiers, but considering that they don’t have an actual army, it’s basically just a bunch of veterans from various foreign wars in hodgepodge armor.

Next come the magistrates. In those times, as in pretty much every other time, important people in government and religion are instantly recognizable by their ornate hats. The bigger the hat, the more important the person. You might be an idiot, but if your hat is big enough, that makes you important. Let me tell you, the hats the magistrates are wearing are nothing to scoff at. They are impervious to scoffing. They are unscoffable.

After that comes Dimmsdale. He’s all full of afterglow from the forest meeting and looking all energized and excitable. It’s a totally different man than they saw in the forest. So much different that Heater and Pearl wonder if it is Dimmsdale at all and not an imposter from the evil twin universe. At this point, Mistress Hibbins, the actual witch, strolls up to Hester.

Hibbins: Look at Dimmsdale! So lively after his meeting with you in the woods.

Hester: No idea what you’re talking about.

Hibbins: Pfffttt, please. You can’t play a player. I know all about hidden evil. You wear yours on your chest but we both know that Dimmsdale has a secret of his own. Ever wonder what he is hiding with his hand on his chest all the time?

Pearl: I do! What is it?

Hibbins: Come broom riding with me some night and you’ll find out. We’ll visit your father and then you’ll know.

She walks off cackling as the sermon begins. The church is jam packed so they stand by the pillory. They are too far away to make out the words, so they just get the general tone of voice, which is full of remorse and regret. This is met with resounding success since the audience’s favorite past time is suffering, and they are eating it up.

While all of this is going on The Demon Child is prancing about the courtyard like the forest nymph she is. She stops by the pirates to gawk. They are so smitten that the pirate leader tosses her a gold chain that really ties her outfit together. He asks Pearl to tell her mother that Darth Chillingworth will be escorting the minister aboard, so they needn’t worry about him.

That dire message will have to wait until the next chapter though. While Pearl has been prancing about, Hester has become a circus attraction for all the people who have heard of the Scarlet Letter but not seen it themselves. Some of the pirates come along too because it is an excuse to stare at her bosom.

The sermon comes to a close and everyone filters out and starts to talk about how awe inspiring it was. No one can do justice in describing the ineffable wonder they felt. The best they can do is give it a 5 star review on Ye Olde Yelp. They also mention the sad undertone they all felt in his words, and that he ended the sermon with a prophecy of his own imminent departure from this world.

The ministers and soldiers and all the important people begin their procession from the chapel to the town hall for an end-of-day feast. Feeling self righteous is hungry work, you know. The minister joins them but is in pretty bad shape. He used up all his energy sermoning. Sermonizing? Acting sermoniously? He is trailing the procession but starts to stumble towards the pillory like a drunken monkey. Reverend Wilson and others reach out to help him but he pushes them away.

Dimmsdale: Hester! Pearl! Come help me up the scaffold to the pillory.

[Rushes up to help him]

Chillingworth: [realizing Dimmsdale is about to confess and ruin his fun] Slow motion noooooooo!!!!

Dimmsdale [to Hester]: Isn’t this a way better idea than our original plan?

Hester: Not really.

Chillingworth: Don’t do it! You’ll die having spoiled both your name, and my ability to torture you more!

Dimmsdale: Yep, that’s the plan. Now I will address the people:

Yo, listen up here’s a story

About a little guy

That lives in a Puritan world

And all day and all night

And everything he sees is just sin

Like him inside and outside

Sin in heart

With a Scarlet little letter

And a secret inside

And everything is sin for him

And himself and everybody around

Cause he ain’t got nobody to listen

With that he rips open his shirt Superman style and reveals his own scarlet letter etched in scar tissue on his chest. Darth Chillingworth yells in anguish because Dimmsdale ruined all his fun. Dimmsdale asks Pearl for a kiss, then tells Hester goodbye.

Hester: But won’t we see each other in eternity?

Dimmsdale: Pffft. God’s #1 mission in our theology is to make sure everyone feels super guilty all the time, even in the afterlife.

Hester: Fair point. Guess I’ll just keep suffering.

Dimmsdale: That’s the spirit! With that, I shall die dramatically. [Exaggerated death sigh]

Meanwhile the audience looks on in shock and awe.

Among the townsfolk the prevailing theories for the origin of Dimmsdale’s scarlet letter are:

1) Self inflicted as a means of penance.

2) Applied by Roger Chillingworth through magic and poison, as it is now quite obvious that he is a necromancer.

3) Ever present remorse literally gnawed it out of his heart.

4) There was no mark whatsoever on his chest, and his dying words were his attempt to demonstrate one last time how we are all sinners and even those we view as righteous are really the worst.

I should point out these are all actually in the book. Even the necromancer one. I especially like number four. It is such a cheerful thought.

Since revenge was the only thing keeping Darth Chillingworth alive, upon Dimmsdale’s death he immediately shriveled up and died himself within the year. In an interesting turn of events he bequeathed the majority of his estate to Pearl, making her quite wealthy. Suddenly the Puritans no longer thought of her as the Demon Child and all wanted to be her friend. Weird how that happens. Sucks to be them though since Hester and Pearl dipped out that same year. Their story grew to legend, and no reliable reports of their whereabouts were ever received.

Years later Hester returns, again for vaguely explained reasons, to spend the rest of her years in the sad lonely she-shed. Remember, of course, that everyone has to live in the place that makes them the most miserable, because Hawthorne says so. Pearl is never seen again, though letters with fancy seals and expensive gifts arrive periodically. When Hester finally dies, she is buried next to the minister.