The Magic of Words

By Maggie Ludlam

The Magic of Words

By Maggie Ludlam

“Such was the sympathy of Nature—that wild, heathen Nature of the forest, never subjugated by human law, nor illuminated by higher truth—with the bliss of these two spirits!” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186).

Great authors such as Nathaniel Hawthorne have written words of such beauty—such pathos. Words put together in just such a way to have the power to inspire—to motivate—to persevere—or even just to shed a tear. But words like these do not just simply come to an author’s mind. He crafts his words carefully—with painstaking precision.

According to Baxter (2007), the concept of “dramatic staging” (p. 11) is employed by Hawthorne in this forest scene. There is an interplay between humans and two vastly different settings—forested primitive Nature and a Puritan settlement’s civilization. The two characters, Hester Prynne and Rev. Arthur Dimmesdale, indulge in a precious moment of private conversation years after the birth of their daughter Pearl, who was born out of wedlock.  Hawthorne’s sentence from The Scarlet Letter portrays the longing of the human heart and even personifies Nature as sympathetic to the plight of the two lovers—a sympathy that civilized Puritan society does not share. The conflict which pulls at Hester demonstrates the concept from Baxter (2007) which speaks to the “congested subtext” (p. 37) of the setting, even echoing characterization and conflict—and, ultimately, theme. 

The lexical description of the forest draws a distinct line of demarcation between the Puritan settlement of civilization, which is “subjugated by human law,” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186) and Nature, “that wild, heathen Nature of the forest” (p. 186). Nature has “sympathy” (p. 186) for the two lovers; whereas, the settlement is ruled by “human law” (p. 186).  The word “human” (p. 186) implies law that is subject to fallibility—not God’s law but human law. Nature is also spelled with a capital “N” as though it were a character within the novel.  It has the human emotion of “sympathy” (p. 186) and is not judgmental, as it, too, is “wild” (p. 186) and “heathen” (p. 186)—words also directly related to Hester Prynne.  Nature, in fact, has never been “subjugated by human law” (p. 186). Furthermore, Nature is not “illuminated by higher truth” (p. 186). The implication is that there is a contrast between Nature and civilization, and that Nature lacks the “higher truth” (p. 186) that is found in civilization.  However, Hawthorne’s mildly sarcastic tone indicates that Nature’s truths are, indeed, higher moral standards and truths that offer grace and forgiveness—the “higher truth [of ] sympathy” (p. 186) instead of the harsh judgments and penalties of “human law” (p. 186). 

There is further pathos in the subtext of the words “the bliss of these two spirits!” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186). The spirits and the very natures of Hester and Arthur have been suppressed, judged, and condemned by the community, by human law, and by key individuals such as Hester’s husband.  And, yet, in this moment, the two are experiencing the “bliss” (p. 186) of being together and being seen, each one by the other, without secrets or blame. Thus, when Baxter (2007) refers to the “inner life” (p. 18), the reader can see each character is open to examination through subtext. One character goes on to grow and thrive, while the other eventually withers away slowly. However, during this dramatic moment, both characters face the same choices. They are both experiencing “bliss” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186); and yet they do not both take hold of the moment and seize the opportunity to maintain that bliss.

An interesting side note here concerns Hawthorne’s staging.  He has given his character Hester Prynne “exactly what s/he wants” (Baxter, 2007, p. 52)—i.e. Arthur Dimmesdale.  And Dimmesdale is too dim to forsake his vocation and make a new life elsewhere with her and their child. The resulting “dramatic irony” (p. 50) avoids predictability (p. 50) and surprises the reader, as Dimmesdale’s hidden guilt eventually makes him dimmer, while Hester’s utter submission to society’s rules makes her stronger.  “The game seems to be over” (p. 46) in the first chapter when Hester is led to the scaffold with her infant in her arms.   Yet, the “real story” (p. 46) has just begun, consisting of both the “outer conflict” (p. 36) of social alienation—the result of these characters’ actions—and “inner conflict” (p. 37)—played out in the very different ways in which each character reacts or responds to guilt.

“Such was the sympathy of Nature—that wild, heathen Nature of the forest, never subjugated by human law, nor illuminated by higher truth—with the bliss of these two spirits!” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186).

Finally, the beauty of the artfully crafted words is illuminated when the sentence is examined syntactically and metrically. It is apparent that Hawthorne has “braided” (Voigt, 2009, p. 65) syntax (structure) and meter (rhythm).  His “interruptive” (p.15) sentence begins with the “fundament” (p. 10)—“Such was the sympathy of Nature” (Hawthorne, 1986, p. 186). Then hyphens encase strong interrupting phrases: an appositive—“that wild, heathen Nature of the forest” (p. 186)—and two parallel participle phrases—“never subjugated by human law…nor illuminated by higher truth” (p. 186).  Both participle phrases have identical structures:  1) both past participles—“subjugated [and] illuminated” (p. 186)—are introduced by “never [and] nor”; 2) both participles are followed by prepositional phrases—“by human law [and ] by higher truth” (p. 186).  The sentence then picks up and completes the fundament with an additional prepositional phrase “with the bliss of these two spirits!”  (p. 186) referring to Nature’s sympathy with the two characters, Hester and Dimmesdale.

But beautifully crafted language does not stop there. It continues with meter. By interrupting his sentence with an appositive and adjective phrases (participles), Hawthorne syntactically arranges his words in a metrical pattern so as to emphasize key words.  Thus, the concept of braiding is the intertwining of two concepts to achieve a poetic sentence, filled with both meaning and beauty of sound (Voigt, 2009, p.65).  The metrical pattern is irregular, but, nevertheless lyrical.  Hawthorne begins on a stressed syllable.  Such was the Sym-path-y (two perfectly metered dactyls) followed by an irregular meter, of Na-ture—.  Nature sings out as a missed beat, stressing the word, much as a drummer in a marching band would stand out if he drums on the wrong down beat. Next, Hawthorne plays with his three interruptive phrases, the first being the appositive—that wild, heath-en Na-ture of the for-est,— the mostly trochaic phrase begins with an iamb, thus pitting two stresses side by side (wild and heath-en).  Who could miss the importance of those two words?  And they’re side by side, for further emphasis. Next, Hawthorne emphasizes the word subjugated and human by tripping over his metrical feet and suddenly switching from trochaic to iambic—nev-er sub-ju-ga-ted by hu-man law,—of course, ending on a strong beat with law.  The last of the three interrupting phrases highlights the words illuminated and high truth by again using an irregular beat—nor il-lu-mi-na-ted by high-er truth—this time ending with a stressed and unstressed and a final stressed syllable (higher truth).  The closing prepositional phrase contains three side-by-side accents so as to close with a strongly-worded message and an exclamation mark—with the bliss of these two spir-its!

Hawthorne’s magical language has been carefully crafted, both in word choice and lyrical quality, to place additional value on his staging and syntax.  His novels and short stories are worth reading again and again, just to hear the words ripple and roll through the mind.

References

Baxter, C. (2007). The art of subtext: Beyond plot. Graywolf Press.

Hawthorne, N. (1986). The scarlet letter. Bantam Books.

Voigt, E. B. (2009). The art of syntax: Rhythm of thought, rhythm of song. Graywolf Press.