55 pages • 1 hour read
In Hester, Laurie Lico Albanese layers fiction and history until their relationship becomes unclear, creating a plausible story. The novel is rife with historical allusions (and the occasional anachronism), from the repercussions of slavery to Isobel being told, “The Peabody sisters teach needlework in their school for young ladies” (69). This reference to the Peabody sisters is something of an “Easter egg” for those who know the biography of the real Nathaniel Hawthorne, who married Sophia Peabody—one of three sisters in an influential Massachusetts family who pioneered 19th-century educational reform, developed the Common School Model upon which modern American primary schools are based, and opened the first kindergarten. These historical references ground Albanese’s reimagining of Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. Isobel is framed as the inspiration for protagonist Hester Prynne, and when Sophia Peabody burns her husband Hawthorne’s journals (based on the real Hawthorne’s burning of documents, which led to an incomplete record of his life), it opens the possibility that the real Hawthorne destroyed records of such an inspiration. Of Hawthorne’s work, The Scarlet Letter shares the least biographical details of Hawthorne’s life, which invites speculation.
Albanese also offers a view in which history affects fiction, as opposed to fiction necessarily depicting history. The novel frequently references themes and motifs—and even plots—from Hawthorne novels other than The Scarlet Letter. Isobel learns Nat’s ancestor, John Harthorne, was involved in the Salem Witch Trials, and that “[…] One of [the accused] screamed from the gallows: ‘A curse on you and your children and your children’s children—you’ll all die with blood in your throats’” (130). This curse reflects the plot of The House of the Seven Gables, Hawthorne’s 1851 successor to The Scarlet Letter. Albanese goes further, framing Isobel’s thoughts as reflecting the content that eventually makes Nat a known author. In Salem, Isobel considers “There are other ladies also veiled […] What are they hiding?” (333). In invoking Hawthorne’s 1836 short story “The Minister’s Black Veil,” Albanese all but states Isobel provided the narrative for The Scarlet Letter. Within the novel itself, the story of Isobel Gowdie plays with fiction and history, as her descendants—including Isobel Gamble—find her confession to witchcraft defiant, while in reality, it was the result of relentless torture. In both fiction and history, the characters find whichever lessons serve them.
The burden of family history weighs characters in different ways, though the novel suggests gender is a defining element in determining this weight. While Nat’s ancestor perpetuated witch trials, Isabel’s ancestress was a victim in a trial. Initially caught up in her infatuation, Isobel finds parallels between their histories: “What secrets he has—his ancestor presiding at the witch trials, the gallows and its legacy—are not so different from my own” (173). She thinks this shared history will deepen their bond yet keeps Isobel Gowdie a secret until later in the novel. In the process, she learns there is a difference in consequences when a man claims a family curse and when a woman is forced to embody one. The same logic applies to Isobel’s mother Margaret, who fears Isobel meeting the same fate as Gowdie—as both Isobels exhibit synesthesia, considered unusual at the time.
For Nat, his family curse is something he feels he can repudiate through writing: “I feel the curse of [John Hathorne’s] cruelty on me every day […] Whatever was passed down I have to cast off—if not by blood, then by ink and words” (176). He believes ink and words are a suitable substitute for blood—an exchange his privilege allows him to make. This fixation on the past and yearning to make up for it strike Isobel as inherently masculine, made possible by a world that favors men: “Why do men fixate on the past when every woman I have ever known is trying to remedy the present while she builds hope for what is to come?” (241-42). In the end, this question becomes linked to the physical burden of reproduction. When Charlotte is pregnant, Isobel thinks, “I told Nat his ancestors’ sins don’t belong to him, and I believe it. Why should Charlotte and her child bear the burden of her father’s sins?” (198). Similarly, when Isobel becomes pregnant by Nat, he proves just as willing to repeat the sins he claims to loathe—accusing her of witchcraft rather than taking responsibility. Overall, Charlotte and Isobel bear the weight of their histories because they are women living in a world set against them.
Hester reimagines The Scarlet Letter—a story in which a woman is alienated due to patriarchy—as a story about a woman finding community in spite of patriarchy, written by a woman author. This iteration contrasts with Hawthorne’s novel, in which Hester Prynne is objectified by her husband Roger Chillingworth and once lover Arthur Dimmesdale, though she elicits sympathy from fellow women in the end. While both men suffer for their sins, Hester and her daughter Pearl, also suffer, though Pearl inherits the men’s fortunes. Albanese’s novel, with its title and narration, centers the woman who inspired the character of Hester, subverting the narrative of a “fallen” woman by recentering her desires and dreams—by allowing her to feel like a real person whose life continues beyond the tragedy of her “fall.” This recentering also applies to Isobel’s friends Nell, Abigail, and Mercy, as well as other local women who come to her aid at the end of the novel.
In her Notes and Acknowledgments, Albanese notes her identification with The Scarlet Letter, first as a high school student and later as the parent of students: “Pearl was a wild child and I saw myself in her” […] “I recognized Hester Prynne’s seminal importance as a heroic woman who defies powerful men” (387). Yet she also identifies with Hawthorne: “Much like Hawthorne, I was a desultory student and voracious reader, preoccupied with family matters and the question of how I might fit into the world” (387). While Albanese transforms Hawthorne from man to character—an inverse of what Nat does to Isobel—and suggests The Scarlet Letter is not his story at all, she still writes out of respect for him—even if he wouldn’t agree. This is evident in her references to Hawthorne’s life and work.
Evidence suggests Hawthorne would have resented Albanese’s interference in his work, as she is a woman writer who gives Isobel a happy ending with Margaret and Darling. In Chapter 20, Nat says, “Ladies can scribble their poetry by the fireside and no one cares as long as they’ve done their chores. But writing is suspect activity for a strong and able man” (239). This quote invokes the real Hawthorne’s famous 1855 lament, written to his friend and publisher, William Ticknor: “America is now wholly given out to a damned mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash—and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed” (qtd. in Frederick, John T, “Hawthorne’s ‘Scribbling Women’,” The New England Quarterly, vol. 48, no. 2, 1975, pp. 231-40, JSTOR). Aside from his blatant sexism, his description of the American literary landscape was not incorrect. While The Scarlet Letter is often held as America’s first bestseller, 1850 also saw the release of the bestselling Wide, Wide World by Susan Warner. By the time Hawthorne penned his letter in 1855, Maria Susanna Cummins’s The Lamplighter (1854) had been published, as well as the best-selling novel of the century, Harriet Beecher Stowe’s 1852 Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Sentimental novels, overwhelmingly written by women, became the runaway successes of the decade. Albanese’s reimagining of The Scarlet Letter follows this tradition, suggesting the possibility of both appreciating a classic text and reshaping it to include marginalized voices.
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