Chapter 13Another View of Hester

Hester Prynne was seriously shocked when she saw Mr. Dimmesdale. He was a wreck. His nerve was totally shot. His moral strength had crumbled into, like, childish weakness. It was just pathetic, sprawled out on the ground.

But his mind was still sharp - maybe even sharper, like a weird, sick energy that only illness could give. Knowing everything she knew about what had been going on behind the scenes - stuff no one else knew - she figured he wasn't just dealing with his own guilt.

Something else was tearing him down, still. She remembered what he’d once been, and felt a jolt of terror when he reached out to her - the outcast - for help, knowing she was his only hope. She decided he deserved her full support.

She wasn't used to judging things by anyone else’s rules, living all alone like she had. But she felt - or at least thought she did - that she had a duty to him, a responsibility that she owed to no one else. All the connections she used to have - the pretty ones, the fancy ones - were gone.

But this one was different: the iron link of their shared secret, something neither of them could break. And just like any connection, it came with obligations.

Hester Prynne wasn't in the same spot we first saw her, back when things were rough. Years had passed. Pearl was seven now. Her mom, with the scarlet letter shimmering on her chest - that crazy, detailed stitching - was a familiar sight to the townspeople.

People tend to get used to someone who stands out, especially if they don’t cause trouble or get in anyone’s way. A kind of respect started to build up around Hester Prynne. It's cool how people are more likely to care than to hate.

Even hate can turn into love, unless something keeps poking at that original feeling of anger. There was nothing like that with Hester Prynne. She never fought back, just took whatever the town threw at her.

She asked for nothing in return for what she's been through, and didn’t push on anyone’s sympathy. Plus, her totally clean life over all these years of being set apart for shame worked in her favor.

With nothing left to lose, and no hope - or even a desire - to gain anything, it was just a real appreciation for goodness that brought her back.

People noticed that Hester never asked for much - just the chance to breathe and make a living for Pearl and herself with her own work. But she was always ready to connect with others, especially when they needed help. She was the first to give what little she had to anyone struggling.

Even if someone was rude or tossed insults when she brought them food or clothes - stuff she could have made for royalty. Hester was the first to step up during sickness. Basically, whenever bad stuff happened, Hester showed up.

She didn't feel like a guest; she belonged there, like the darkness somehow let her connect with everyone. You could see the embroidered "A" glowing, like a comforting light. It wasn't a mark of shame anywhere else, but in a sick room, it was a beacon.

It even helped people at their lowest point, showing them which way to go when things were fading and they hadn't seen what came next. That’s when Hester’s heart showed - warm and generous, always ready to help, no matter how much was needed.

Her chest, with its mark of shame, just became a softer place to rest a weary head.

She basically made herself a Sister of Mercy. Or, maybe it's more like the world just did it to her, when neither she nor anyone else saw this coming. The letter was her sign, her calling card. She was seriously helpful - like, so much power to do things and to feel what others felt.

A lot of people stopped seeing the scarlet A as what it originally meant. They said it meant "Able," you know? Like, she was just that strong - a woman’s strength, for real.

The only place that could hold her was that dark house. When the sun came back, she was gone. Her shadow had vanished across the doorway. The helpful inmate had left, not looking back to collect any thanks - if anyone even had any to give for all she's done.

Running into people on the street, she never looked up to acknowledge them. If they insisted on stopping her, she’s just point to the scarlet letter and keep walking. Maybe it was pride, but it felt so much like humility that it made everyone feel softer towards her.

The public can be totally unfair; it can deny someone what’s rightfully theirs if they push too hard. But it's just as likely to give someone way more than they deserve if they play the victim, like despots love.

Seeing Hester Prynne acting this way, people started to be nicer to her than she really wanted - or maybe even than she deserved.

The town leaders and the smart folks took longer than everyone else to see how great Hester was. They had their own biases, backed up by a bunch of complicated thinking, making it super hard to change their minds.

But little by little, their grumpy faces started to soften, and over time, they almost looked kind. This was true for the important people too - they felt responsible for keeping the town's morals in check. Meanwhile, regular folks had totally forgiven Hester for her mistake.

They even started seeing the scarlet letter as a sign, not of the one bad thing she’d done, but of all the good she’d done since. "Hey, see that woman with the fancy badge?" they’d ask visitors.

"That’s our Hester - the town’s own Hester, who’s so sweet to the poor, helps the sick, and comforts people who are struggling!" Of course, people still gossiped, bringing up the old scandals.

But it was still a fact that, in the eyes of these same people, the scarlet letter was like a cross on a nun's dress. It gave Hester a kind of holiness, letting her move through any danger. Someone even said an Indian shot an arrow at the badge, but the arrow bounced off and fell to the ground.

People believed it, too.

The effect of the symbol - or, rather, what it said about her place in society - really messed with Hester Prynne's mind. Everything bright and lovely about her personality had shriveled up under that hot-red brand, and had long since fallen away, leaving a sharp, bare outline.

It could have been off-putting, if she's had anyone around to bother with it. Even her looks had changed a lot. Maybe it was because of how plain she dressed, and maybe it was because she didn't show much emotion.

It was a sad change, too, that her thick, gorgeous hair was either chopped off or completely hidden under a cap, so not a single strand ever caught the sunlight.

It was due to all that, but even more to something else - there was just nothing left in Hester’s face for Love to find; nothing in her form, though she looked grand and statue-like, that Passion would ever dream of holding; nothing in her chest to ever be a pillow for Affection again.

Something essential had left her, something that had to be there to keep her a woman. That’s often what happens, and that’s the hard way people change, when a woman goes through something really tough. If she’s all soft and sweet, she’ll just fade away.

If she makes it through, that softness will either be crushed out of her, or - and it looks the same on the outside - crushed so deep inside her heart that it can never show. The latter is probably the real story.

A woman who was once a woman, and isn’t anymore, could become a woman again if there was just the right touch to change her. We'll see if Hester Prynne ever got that touch, and that transformation.

A lot of Hester’s icy vibe came from the fact that her life had shifted away from feelings and more toward thinking. She was totally on her own - no relying on anyone, just little Pearl to look after.

Hopeless about ever getting her old life back, even if she’d wanted to, she just tossed aside the pieces of a broken chain. Society's rules? They didn't matter to her. It was a time when people’s brains were finally waking up, thinking bigger than they ever had before.

Swords had taken down nobles and kings. Even bolder thinkers had knocked down and rebuilt - at least in theory, which was their real world - all the old beliefs that were tied to important principles. Hester Prynne soaked up this vibe.

She started thinking freely, like it was normal, which was happening over in Europe, but if our ancestors had known about it, they’d have thought it was a worse crime than the scarlet letter. In her quiet cottage by the sea, she had thoughts that didn’t visit anyone else in New England.

These were like shadowy guests, super risky if anyone had even seen them knocking at her door.

It's wild, right? People who come up with the craziest ideas often just totally play by the rules. Their thoughts just exist in their heads, no need to actually do anything. That felt like Hester.

But if Pearl hadn't shown up - sent from somewhere else, you know - things could've been totally different. She might’ve gone down in history with Ann Hutchinson, like the founder of a whole new religious group. Maybe she would’ve been a prophetess, even.

And she probably would've faced serious consequences - maybe even died - for challenging the Puritan system. But raising Pearl gave her a place to put all that energy. Providence, basically, gave Hester this little girl to nurture and help grow up, even though it was super tough.

Everything was working against her. The world was against her. Even Pearl herself seemed a little...off. Like something was wrong, a reminder of Hester’s own rebellious past. It made Hester wonder, sometimes, if bringing Pearl into the world was even a good thing.

The same kinda dark question popped into her head, like, all the time, when she thought about women in general. Was life even worth living, even for the happiest ones? As for her own life, she’d already decided it wasn’t, and she’d moved on.

Thinking too much, even if it keeps both women and men quiet, just makes you sad. She realized it was a hopeless task. First, the whole system of society needed to be torn down and rebuilt.

Then, the way men are, their long-standing habits - basically, their nature - had to change a lot before women could even have a fair shot at a decent position.

And even then, after all the other problems were sorted, women couldn't take advantage of those changes until they themselves changed even more. Maybe even the core of who she was, her true self, would just...disappear. Women don’t solve these problems by thinking them out.

They can’t be solved, or really, only in one way. If her heart took over, they just vanished. So, Hester Prynne, whose heart wasn't beating normally anymore, wandered around lost in a confusing maze of thoughts.

Sometimes she’s blocked by a huge wall, other times she’s scared of falling into a deep hole. Everything around her felt wild and spooky, and there was no place to feel safe or comfortable.

Sometimes she wondered if it would be better to just send Pearl straight to heaven and let her own fate be whatever Eternal Justice decided. The scarlet letter hadn't done its job.

Now, her interview with the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale, on the night of his vigil, gave her a new thing to think about - something worth fighting for. She’d seen the intense misery he was battling, or, really, had stopped battling. He was on the edge of losing it, if he hadn't already.

It was clear that whatever pain his guilt caused, a deadlier poison had been added by the person offering him comfort. A secret enemy had been constantly by his side, pretending to be a friend and helper, and using the chance to mess with Mr. Dimmesdale’s mind.

Hester wondered if she’s messed up from the start, lacking honesty, bravery, and loyalty, by letting him get into a situation where so much bad could happen, and nothing good could be hoped for.

Her only excuse was that she couldn't see a way to save him from worse than what she's been through, except by going along with Roger Chillingworth’s plan to hide his identity. She’d made her choice then, and now it seemed like the worse of two options.

She decided to fix her mistake, as much as she could. Stronger after years of tough, serious trials, she didn't feel as helpless as she did that night - when she was crushed by sin and half-crazy from the shame that was still new. They’d talked together in the prison-chamber back then.

She's come a long way since. The old man, though, had brought himself closer to her level, or maybe even below it, by the revenge he’d chased.

Hester Prynne decided she’s gotta find her old man and do everything she can to help the guy he’s got in a serious bind. It wasn't long before she got the chance. One afternoon, strolling with Pearl in a quiet spot on the peninsula, she spotted the old physician.

He was lugging a basket and using a walking stick, bent over, searching for roots and herbs to make his potions.