Rating: 5/5 stars.
Nathaniel Hawthorne is the coolest name ever.
I can see why people dislike this book, though. Hawthorne doesn’t hesitate to use a lot of words. He prefers to perforate his readers’ craniums with an extensive utilization of verbose language, thus intimidating and irritating those whose literary palettes do not include grandiose diction.
Reading The Scarlet Letter relieved me. I’d take rambling paragraphs and stocky sentences over quadratic equations and piecewise functions any day. Besides, his writing is beautiful. A little grandiloquent, yes, but still absolutely brilliant.
Not to mention that it must’ve required courage to publish a book like this. It’s openly feminist and psychological, two things that I’m sure were not comfortable dinner topics in the 1850’s. Hawthorne skilfully delves into the themes of legalism and guilt, and the story is one to think about. Apparently he wrote the book (and changed his last name from Hathorne to Hawthorne) because his uncle was an executioner at the Salem witch trials – kind of sounds like something I would do…