Analysis—Chapters 1–2

These chapters introduce the reader to Hester Prynne and begin to explore the theme of sin, along with
its connection to knowledge and social order. The chapters’ use of symbols, as well as their depiction of the
political reality of Hester Prynne’s world, testifies to the contradictions inherent in Puritan society. This is a
world that has already “fallen,” that already knows sin: the colonists are quick to establish a prison and a
cemetery in their “Utopia,” for they know that misbehavior, evil, and death are unavoidable. This belief fits
into the larger Puritan doctrine, which puts heavy emphasis on the idea of original sin—the notion that all
people are born sinners because of the initial transgressions of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

But the images of the chapters—the public gatherings at the prison and at the scaffold, both of which are
located in central common spaces—also speak to another Puritan belief: the belief that sin not only permeates
our world but that it should be actively sought out and exposed so that it can be punished publicly. The beadle
reinforces this belief when he calls for a “blessing on the righteous Colony of the Massachusetts, where
iniquity is dragged out into the sunshine.” His smug self-righteousness suggests that Hester’s persecution is
fueled by more than the villagers’ quest for virtue. While exposing sin is meant to help the sinner and provide
an example for others, such exposure does more than merely protect the community. Indeed, Hester becomes a
scapegoat, and the public nature of her punishment makes her an object for voyeuristic contemplation; it also
gives the townspeople, particularly the women, a chance to demonstrate—or convince themselves of—their
own piety by condemning her as loudly as possible. Rather than seeing their own potential sinfulness in
Hester, the townspeople see her as someone whose transgressions outweigh and obliterate their own errors.

Analysis—Chapters 3–4

The town has made Hester into a “living sermon,” as Chillingworth puts it, because she is stripped of
her humanity and made to serve the needs of the community. Her punishment is expressed in violent terms.
Reverend Wilson relates an argument he had with Dimmesdale about whether to force Hester to confess in
public. Dimmesdale spoke of such an action in terms of a rape, arguing that “it were wronging the very nature
of woman to force her to lay open her heart’s secrets in such broad daylight, and in presence of so great a
multitude.”

The men who sit in judgment of Hester are not only hypocritical but also ignorant. Bellingham, surrounded by
the trappings of his office, and Wilson, who looks like “the darkly engraved portraits which we see prefixed to
old volumes of sermons,” both occupy positions where power is dependent upon self-portrayal and symbols.
They know little of human nature and judge using overarching precepts rather than the specifics of an
individual situation as their guides. The narrator tells us that these ignorant men “had no right” to “meddle
with a question of human guilt, passion and anguish.” Dimmesdale, on the other hand, seems to know
something of the human heart. He is compassionate toward Hester and is able to convince Bellingham and
Wilson to spare her any harsher punishment.

As part of its meditation on the concept of evil, the text begins to elucidate Dimmesdale’s character for the
reader. The emerging portrait is not altogether positive. Although Dimmesdale displays compassion and a
sense of justice, he also seems spineless and somewhat sinister. His efforts to get Hester to reveal her lover’s
identity involve a set of confusing instructions about following her conscience and exposing her lover in order
to save his soul. The reader does not know why Dimmesdale declines to speak straightforwardly, but Hester
does. When it is later revealed that Dimmesdale is the lover she seeks to protect, his speech becomes
retrospectively ironic and terribly cruel. In this way, The Scarlet Letter comes to resemble a detective story:
things have meaning only in the context of later information. The larger implication of such a structure is that
lives have meaning only as a whole, and that an individual event (Hester’s adultery, for example) must be
examined in a framework larger than that allowed by the categorical rules of religion. This notion returns the
reader to the book’s general theme of whether it is ethically right to judge others.

Analysis—Chapters 5–6

Chapter 5 deals with one of the primary questions of the book: why does Hester choose to stay in
Boston when she is free to leave? The narrator offers several explanations. Hester’s explanation to herself is
that New England was the scene of her crime; therefore, it should also be the scene of her punishment. The
narrator adds that Hester’s life has been too deeply marked by the things that have happened to her here for her
to leave. Additionally, he adds, Hester feels bound to Pearl’s father, who presumably continues to live in
Boston. But there seems to be more to Hester’s refusal to leave. Were she to escape to Europe or into the
wilderness, Hester would be acknowledging society’s power over the course of her life. By staying and facing
cruel taunts and alienation, Hester insists, paradoxically, upon her right to self-determination. Hester does not
need to flee or to live a life of lies in order to resist the judgment against her.

Each time she interacts with Pearl, Hester is forced to reconsider the life she has chosen for herself. Pearl is
both the sign of Hester’s shame and her greatest treasure—she is a punishment and a consolation. Pearl
reminds Hester of her transgression, of the act that has left Hester in her current state of alienation. And Pearl’s
ostracism by the community recalls Hester’s own feelings of exile. Yet, Pearl’s existence also suggests that out
of sin comes treasure. This idea is reinforced by Hester’s needlework: out of necessity born of shame, luxury
and beauty are crafted.

Analysis—Chapters 7–8

These chapters link Pearl even more explicitly to the scarlet letter. Hester dresses her daughter in “a
crimson velvet tunic of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered with fantasies and flourishes of gold thread.”
Pearl and the embroidered letter are both beautiful in a rich, sensuous way that stands in contrast to the
stiffness of Puritan society. Indeed, the narrator explicitly tells the reader that Pearl is “the scarlet letter
endowed with life.” The narrator tells us that Hester has worked to create an “analogy between the object of
[Hester’s] affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture.” This reinforces the contradictory nature of both
the letter and Pearl, for just as Hester both loves and feels burdened by Pearl, her thoughts regarding the scarlet
letter seem also to contain a touch of fondness. Certainly her attitude toward it is not one of uniform regret,
and she may even harbor pleasant associations with the deeds that the letter symbolizes. The sin itself was both
a guilty act and an act of affection, a problematic combination of love and “evil.”

The letter and the child also hold a dual meaning for the town fathers. They understand that both child and
badge function as reminders of sin and as protections against further sin. Dimmesdale momentarily
acknowledges this in his speech, but the purpose of his words is not to ponder ambiguities but rather to point to
these ambiguities as proof of the futility of all interpretation. Pearl, he says, came from God, and therefore
must be intended as Hester’s companion. According to Dimmesdale, any attempt to interpret her presence
otherwise would be in vain because no one has knowledge of God’s intentions.