Topic > Fearing miscegenation as illustrated in Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter

By the mid-nineteenth century, the young American establishment seemed to have overcome the instability of its formative stages. The citizens of what began as a disorganized and ineffective alliance of thirteen different territories managed to cultivate a nationalistic pride in the fate of their great democracy. A new generation recognized the ravages of a distant Revolutionary War and subsequent struggles for unity as mere specters of history. Yet beneath a surface of harmony and contentment, currents of discord threatened to plunge the United States into ruin and collapse. Racial tensions had remained in the public spotlight for much of the previous century, attracting widespread attention since the controversial issue of slavery first became a federally divisive issue in 1808. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay It is no surprise that the theme of ethnicity functions as a major topic in a substantial portion of the literary canon of the time. The outdoors has inevitably had its impact on human psychology, and numerous works dating from the era in question chronicle the interactions between Caucasian settlers and other peoples who populated the vast landscape of the United States. In many of these narratives, the newly mentioned individuals are of African descent, but the prejudices that Anglo-Saxons held towards their black slaves were rivaled by the paranoia whites garnered about American Indians. In its policies of forced relocation, the federal government acted on a variety of fears about Native Americans, chief among them fears of miscegenation and the pollution of American culture by the primitive influence of the savage. Nathanial Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter exemplifies the extent to which this obsession with bloodline preservation shaped national ideology and became entrenched in the intellectual productions of the 1800s. The nuances of the narrative are evident immediately after the plot begins. A rose bush outside the prison serves as the focal point of the first chapter. Signifying the elements of passion associated with the convict, the flower serves to illustrate by contrast the desolation of the rigidly civilized Puritan community and the encroachment of the surrounding wilderness upon the austerity of the city. Like the dangerous but seductive plant, the forest and its inhabitants both attract and repel the sensibilities of devoutly Christian pilgrims. From the opening paragraphs of the story, the link between the heroine's pregnancy and the Indian sphere is clearly delineated. As Hester stands atop the scaffold, her show of defiance is interrupted by the recognition of her long-lost spouse on the outskirts of the crowd gathered to watch the spectacle. Beside “an Indian in his native dress was a white man, dressed in a strange disorder of civilized and savage costumes” (Hawthorne 53). Suspicions about the paternity of the newborn Prynne are thus projected at the beginning of the story onto the man who could and should have been the girl's father. The conclusion reached by the community involves a transgression even more serious than that of faith. The potential is that Hester, obstinate in her refusal to name the accomplice to her crime, ignored the ultimate boundary: that of race. Considering the gravity of the religious crimes in question, citizens cannot know how far the sinner's depravity extends. His infidelity may have been perpetrated with one of the indigenous pagans of theForeign New World. The mysterious doctor is the outlet in which the fantasies and horrors of pale men find expression. His "motley garb" (53) is an amalgam of rumors, truths, and terrors that the Salemites have constructed to satisfy their curiosities and preconceptions regarding the scandal in question. Likewise, Hester's move to the dilapidated cottage is an active advancement into the primal chaos of the wilderness. The heroine becomes increasingly closely associated, both physically and metaphorically, with the red man's lifestyle. Hester's decision to move to the outskirts of the city is not a decision of independence but of marriage, a choice in which she marries all the dark possibilities and suggestions of the woods. Upon scrutiny of the society he is trying to escape, such behavior is indeed suspicious. The link between the fruits of the protagonist's relationship and the nomad's kingdom extends throughout the book. The little girl is bestowed with a number of properties that make her the deadly approximation of the titular sigil of shame. Pearl is such a fitting product of her mother's lawlessness that she "was indeed the scarlet letter in another form; the scarlet letter endowed with life!" (91) The little girl is red in appearance, not only in the fact that she is the incarnate emblem, but also in the singularity of her personality. The seven-year-old girl behaves with a behavior that oscillates between tantrums and docility: Above all, the war of Hester's spirit, at that time, was perpetuated in Pearl. He could recognize his wild, desperate and defiant mood, the fickleness of his character and even some of the clouds of sadness and despondency that had brooded in his heart. Now they were illuminated by the morning splendor of a child's disposition, but, later, in the course of the day of earthly existence, they could be prolific of storm and whirlwind. (81)This disconcerting tension of unpredictability reflects the notions that could easily connote the image of the bestial Indian incapable of exercising the necessary repressive devices that characterize civilized culture. Such a sense of unease is created by the ethereal sprite that "Hester could not help but wonder, in those moments, whether Pearl was a human child." (82) The city from which the pariah was ostracized totally agrees with this uncertainty. Pearl has no father, but more importantly, she has no white father. The child does not have the legitimacy of verifiable Caucasian heritage and, in the absence of racially pristine family predecessors, is incomplete. The narrator can consequently only refer to her as "an imp of evil" (83) and a "demonic spawn" (88). Dimmesdale's failure to publicly assume the responsibilities he assumes in private reiterates the extent of the effects generated by this mystery of paternity. Until the uncertainties surrounding her lineage are resolved, Hester's daughter will be as unredeemed as the pagans. When the girl declares: "I have no heavenly Father!" (87), the statement is not ironic. This progression of ideas is underlined by Chillingworth's evolution. Although initially welcomed by the village, the old doctor quickly falls out of favor with the majority of Salem. Propelled by the same insights that reflected the doctor's ties to the dishonored Hester in the third chapter, members of the congregation begin to see the former parent in a decidedly pejorative context:In summary, it has become a widely held opinion that the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale , like many other characters of special sanctity, in all eras of the Christian world, was persecuted either by Satan himself, or by Satan's emissary, in the guise of old Roger Chillingworth (114). Stress is intentional when the The author.