The Scarlet Letter II and Sumptuary Laws

The thread I have been following here runs like this: Hawthorne, throughout the Scarlet Letter, drops in phrases or clauses which are easily overlooked but which, when subject to close scrutiny, enrich our understanding of literature and even encourage us to adopt a certain personal style. In this case, by mentioning the sumptuary law in passing, Hawthorne "hints" at a reality which really is quite arresting when you study it more closely. We study that law for five minutes and learn far more about Colonial MA than we perhaps ever have known. And we are full of questions. Why would the sumptuary law in the religious commonwealth have such a "social-status" flavor to it? How were religion and social status related in this society? Was this law passed over the opposition of many people? Was it really ever enforced? Does this social-class piece of legislation tell us something about ourselves as a people, or was the flavor of the law swallowed up in "democratic" America of the late 18th and 19th centuries? So it is one small word in Hawthorne's narrative that opens up worlds of questions and understanding to those who listen closely to texts. And so we realize the power of understatement for those with "ears to hear."

Returning to the Scarlet Letter

We left on this pleasant detour into the 1651 MA sumptuary law because we were trying to understand the effect of Hester's coming into the light from the dark prison confinement and having all around see the finely embroidered "A" on her dress. By sewing this finely embroidered "A" on her garment, an "A" that greatly exceeded what was allowed by the sumptuary law, Hester was flouting the colonial authority structure even as she obeyed their law. She was, as it were, giving an "in your face" reaction to the magistrates while, at the same time, ostensibly following their requirements.

When she was ordered to sew the "A" on her dress, it surely looked as if the authorities had the upper hand. She had been "caught"--not in the act of adultery itself but with the "fruit" of adultery growing daily in her belly. She now fell into the clutches of the community leaders. But there was hypocrisy in their singling out the woman to punish (and not the man), and there was also hypocrisy in their having her bear a permanent mark of her "sin" when others, mostly men (and maybe her condemners), would not have to bear the same weight of obloquy. One could argue in addition that the sin of having a sexual relationship with someone other than one's husband might not be as serious an offense as oppressing workers or abusing a spouse, but as Lincoln famously said, repeating the words of Jesus, in his Second Inaugural Address, 'let us judge not, lest we be judged.'

So, Hester was condemned to a term in prison, where she sewed the letter "A" on her garment. Perhaps she took some time on the scintillating letter because while sewing it she had a reminder of that special relationship which led to her special child. In that regard, she probably could be grateful to the selectmen who required her to sew the "A" on her garment: they were the unwitting instruments of pleasant memory for her.

So, she complied with the requirements of a demeaning rule--by sewing the "A" on her garment, but by sewing it with style and material that was "greatly beyond what was allowed by the sumptuary regulations of the colony," she also disobeyed another law. That is, she complied with one by disobeying another. And Hester probably knew that by doing this she was putting the magistrates in a bind. If they were to let her proudly wear her "stylish A," they would be permitting an "up yours" reaction from an "uppity" woman. If, however, they were to tell her to remove the "A" or to "resew" the garment, they would draw people's attention away from the rule requiring her to sew the letter and onto the sumptuary law. And, indeed, that might have been the agenda of Hawthorne/Hester in this passage. The magistrates would know that such a sumptuary law was unpopular, especially among the class of people (women as well as men, but generally more women than men) who wanted to be more "stylish" dressers.

If the magistrates had forced Hester to "change the A," then, they would risk retaliation against themselves by bringing attention to the sumptuary law. The attention would then be off Hester and onto them. Thus, Hester has cleverly shifted the balance of power in the relationship with the magistrates, the representatives of the law and morals of the community, by putting her own "twist" on their requirement to sew the "A" on her dress.

But this brings up another question, not mentioned by Hawthorne. Who was it that got her the fine thread to use in sewing the "A." Did someone "smuggle" the thread into her? Was it perhaps a sympathetic jailer or perhaps a matron who saw to her feminine needs? Or did she have a "stash" of it herself, collected rapidly before the passage of the sumptuary law and kept safely against the advent of some kind of "social emergency," like the one Hester was experiencing? Maybe someone stole it from a rich person. Maybe, however, like cocaine or other illegal drugs in our culture, all you needed to do was to go down to certain corners in Boston or Salem and ask someone in the know and you could get all the fine threads you wanted.

Conclusion

In any case, when Hester appeared at the door of the jail, attired with the arresting crimson "A," she was as much of a rebel against he colony as when she had committed the act of adultery. She was a woman of sensuality and passion, who wasn't going to let the fumbling machinations of the grim-visaged colonial authorities interfere with her sense of inner freedom. In this one arresting phrase, then, about the sumptuary regulations of the colony, Hawthorne has given us a brilliant cameo of an unforgettable woman.

I can see two results of this reading of chapter 2 of the Scarlet Letter for me. First, it will make me much more conscious of the way I try to construct arguments and be persuasive. Subtlety of words, gentleness of hints, precision in writing and speaking--all these are my goals more than ever before. But, finally, I end this essay with a smidgen of despair. I simply cannot read a good book anymore. Too many things stop me in my tracks and make me follow them where they want to lead me. And, truth be told, I never return to the "track" where I departed. I always am dumped off on another part of the trail. And I just keep walking.

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