{"id":1078,"date":"2018-01-20T08:00:46","date_gmt":"2018-01-20T08:00:46","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/websites.emerson.edu\/undergrad-students-publishing\/?p=1078"},"modified":"2020-11-09T20:20:06","modified_gmt":"2020-11-09T20:20:06","slug":"revisiting-the-scarlet-letter-as-a-queer-man","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orgs.emerson.edu\/undergraduate-students-publishing\/2018\/01\/20\/revisiting-the-scarlet-letter-as-a-queer-man\/","title":{"rendered":"Revisiting The Scarlet Letter<\/i> as a Queer Man"},"content":{"rendered":"

Kyle Labe\/\/Blog Writer<\/p>\n

When I first read Nathaniel Hawthorne\u2019s The Scarlet Letter<\/em>, I was sixteen and in the tenth grade. No one enjoyed the novel but me, and for the life of me I couldn\u2019t comprehend why. At the time, no one knew that I was questioning my sexuality and hiding the secret that I was queer. So the notion of a young woman cast off from society, and a guilt-ridden preacher drowning from his secrets was as human as it got. I read it and felt completely understood in a way I never imagined possible. Even though the novel lacks any explicit queerness, Hawthorne seemed to put into words what I had been feeling for most of my maturation. It was so unfamiliar to me, that through an adolescence of misunderstanding, that one author should voice my angst and anxiety.<\/p>\n

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The Scarlet Letter<\/em> by Nathaniel Hawthorne<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I was never introduced to LGBTQ literature as a child, so I never had authors or thinkers to whom I could aspire. I was forced to make do with what books I had. That being said, I think a huge reason as to why some of these novels are considered classic is their universality. These stories are like shared experiences of the human species, in all our flaws, mistakes, and woes. The Scarlet Letter<\/em> is no exception. Feeling alone is nothing that somebody else didn\u2019t feel at one time or another.<\/p>\n

The first time I read it, I identified with the plight of Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale. The surreptitious father of Pearl, Hester Prynne\u2019s illegitimate daughter, Dimmesdale spends the majority of the novel repressing that fact, and thus avoiding repentance and a chance at family. Closeted, I could understand. I, too, was hiding a secret of my own, one that wouldn\u2019t be accepted by society. If my sexuality came to light, it would be met with reluctance, disapproval, and isolation. Everything was thrashing inside of me until I felt subhuman. I wanted to come clean, yet everything else was stopping me.<\/p>\n

Arthur Dimmesdale is eaten alive by his secret, enough that it is implied that the letter A emblazoned itself through his flesh. The evil Roger Chillingworth, Hester\u2019s estranged husband, takes the battered man under his wing, emotionally abusing him to coerce the man to transparency. This internal battle of Dimmesdale\u2019s very much paralleled my own, having this secret seeking to find its way into the world. I very much felt like a liar during that age, but at the same time I wanted no one to know. When you\u2019re young and in the closet, it\u2019s almost as if you\u2019re playing a role that isn\u2019t fit for you. I felt guilty, torn, and scared, and Arthur Dimmesdale was like a solace.<\/p>\n

However, the second time I read it through, I moved my identifiability with Dimmesdale to the story\u2019s main protagonist, Hester Prynne. She is the character who suffers the true weight of the scarlet letter, having the stigma sewn onto her wardrobe for all to see, victim to public shame and humiliation. She is thrown onto a scaffold with her infant child to be berated by everyone she knows, and, as a result, she is outcast from all society. Hester bears the weight of isolation and solitude, but through the novel, finds inner strength, compassion, and independence. Her ignominy only imbues a sense of sympathy and kindness in her, rather than a deep hatred for those who had done her wrong.<\/p>\n

By this time, I had been out of the closet for over a year. I had embraced my identity, sharing it with the world and taking whatever drawbacks came with it. Being openly queer is a lot like walking around with a scarlet letter on your chest. It\u2019s the same loneliness, the same marginalization, the same disrespect. Not everyone will treat you well, and it\u2019ll be rare for someone to view you as a complete equal; unfortunately, that\u2019s just a reality. No matter what, it\u2019s a fact of the matter you\u2019ll learn to deal with. Sure, it gets better, but that\u2019s only because you learn to deal with things better. And, like Hawthorne writes of Hester: \u201cShe had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness…The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers\u2014stern and wild ones\u2014and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.\u201d As many setbacks as I\u2019ve had, I\u2019ve tried to practice my life by the strength I\u2019ve been taught.<\/p>\n

The fact that Hester becomes a beacon of her community always gives me hope. Through all her mistreatment, she turns into a caretaker, taking in battered women and becoming a seamstress for her peers. As Hawthorne puts it, \u201cShe wanted\u2014what some people want throughout life\u2014a grief that should deeply touch her, and thus humanize and make her capable of sympathy.\u201d That\u2019s something I\u2019ve especially found within myself. That no matter how I\u2019m treated in life, I\u2019ve sought to turn that into compassion, so maybe rather than another feeling the way I do, their experience actually may prove easier and, quite possibly, better.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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