Source of book: I own this.
As
regular followers of this blog recall, I participate in an online book
club, hosted by my friend Carrie at readingtoknow.com. This is our
second year, and we are focusing on classics - an even mix of adult and
children’s books. This month’s selection was chosen by Shonya at
learninghowmuchidontknow.blogspot.com.
This is my third time through The Scarlet Letter.
The first occurred at somewhere around age ten or eleven, when my
mother read it to my siblings and me. Since I am the oldest, my brother
and sister would have been even younger. The book did make an impression
on me, as did my mother’s commentary on the Puritans and witch hunts.
(Side
note: I got my love of literature from my mother, who was an avid
reader from a young age. I remember reading Laura Ingalls Wilder and C.
S. Lewis together as some of my earliest memories. We read David Copperfield when I was all of nine - my sister would have been five. I doubt I remember everything, but I can remember Huckleberry Finn, Christy, The Prince and the Pauper. Although we didn’t read it together, my mother also convinced me to read The Octopus,
Frank Norris’ novel on the railroad monopolies, when she thought that I
was too much of a doctrinaire capitalist. This was serious stuff, and I
believe it taught me critical thinking skills early. I had to grapple
with opposing ideas and the real life consequences of those ideas. I
still look back on those days fondly, and I know that my horizons were
broadened as a result.)
I re-visited The Scarlet Letter
in high school. It was assigned as our full-length novel in American
Literature. I took a set of video courses in high school since neither
of my parents was confident teaching algebra. While the English teacher
for grades ten and twelve was excellent (Mr. Collins, I wish every
teacher was like you!), the one for grade eleven, and thus American
Literature, was merely passable. He was young, and everything was “by
the book”, so I didn’t feel like I really gained that much from the
second time through.
This
reading, at more than twice the age of the last, added a few extra
layers that I had not noticed before. I will discuss the life of Anne
Hutchinson in detail in a note below. At the time of my first and second
readings, I had also never really experienced real life Puritans, so it
was difficult to entirely relate to Hawthorne’s dislike. True, they had
this morbid focus on avoiding pleasure, and they killed (mostly) old
women in a frenzy, but surely people weren’t like that now. Were they?
And nobody really wanted to emulate them, right?
In
the intervening years, my experiences with the Christian Patriarchy
movement, and later, the events of 9/11 and what followed made this book
make far more sense. In addition, in the course of reading this book, I
have spend some additional time looking into what the Puritans
believed, and how they responded to the events and ideas of their time.
Although
Hawthorne was a contemporary of Charles Dickens, his writing is best
understood as being of the earlier Romantic Era, and thus more of a kin
to the dark works of the Bronte sisters, or the epics of Sir Walter
Scott, than the more realistic works of the Victorians. I personally
have a soft spot for Hawthorne’s other great novel, The House of Seven Gables,
which may (or may not) have the same depth of psychology, but which
explores the issues of greed, grudges, and forgiveness. Thus, it is a
mistake to approach The Scarlet Letter as a realistic work. The events are clearly too coincidental to be taken literally, and the characters are exaggerated.
Hawthorne himself commented that The Scarlet Letter
might succeed as an opera. Truly, it would have been ideal, as it
follows generally the “opera plot”, as described by the delightfully
snarky George Bernard Shaw as “the soprano and the tenor wishing to make
love but being prevented by the baritone.” (Insert the correct parts
for Hester, Arthur, and Roger here...) And certainly, such an opera
should have been composed by Verdi. There is really no other choice.
I
find it fascinating that Hawthorne had his own baggage about the
Puritans. His ancestor, John Hathorne, was the sole judge at the Salem
Witch Trials that never doubted that he was right, and felt no remorse
about the whole thing. Hawthorne was embarrassed enough that he added
the “w” to his name, to obscure the connection. I imagine Hawthorne’s
feeling was somewhat like having a Nazi ancestor who maintained the
rectitude of the Final Solution to the bitter end. (Many have written
cogently about the social implications of the burning of witches. Those
targeted were typically old women with no family to support them or
defend them, and who were thus looked on as a burden to society. Really
manly stuff there, Puritans.)
As
I see it, Hawthorne had two parallel points that he made in this book.
The first was personal, and is made explicit in the last chapter, when
he advises, “Be true! Be true! Be true! Show freely to the world, if not
your worst, yet some trait whereby the worst may be inferred.” This
call for a lack of hypocrisy is both admirable, and yet, in the context
of the narrative, unattainable.
It
is true that hypocrisy destroys. It destroys Arthur Dimmesdale most
obviously. His body cannot withstand the weight of his guilt, and all of
the good he does for others means mere death to him. It destroys Roger
Chillingworth, as whatever good he once had is subsumed into hatred for
Arthur. It destroys Puritan society. The book makes it clear that many,
many, are guilty of even Hester’s sin, and yet they ignore it, living in
hypocrisy which manifests itself - as it always does
- in the draconian shaming and punishment of those caught in sin.
However, it is far from clear that confession leads to freedom either.
Hester may gain some measure of freedom in her own conscience from her
“true” existence, but she pays a heavy social and personal price. She
can never rise above her sin, and her child continues to bear her
mother’s shame throughout the book. Likewise, Arthur’s confession
accomplishes little. He dies, and his legacy is forgotten just as it
would be with others of a more pure heart. Puritan society learns
nothing from this incident, and would go on to burning “witches” within a
few years.
As
I thought about this more, it occurred to me that in a way, Hester is
the greatest hypocrite of them all - and she has no choice but to be
one. Puritan society mandates that she play the role of the “fallen
woman”, even though the majority of her life doesn’t fit that role. The
real her, if you will, is the woman who is generous to the poor, who
comforts the suffering and dying, and supports herself and her child
through hard work. But she cannot simply be that person, because it has
been decreed that she be an object lesson to everyone else of the need
to punish sexual sin.
So
why is there no good that results? One potential answer is that there
is no forgiveness. There are two problems that arise from the Puritan
legalism. (And make no mistake, the Puritans were hard core legalists. I
allude to “preparationism” below in my note. This focus on making
oneself “worthy” of salvation is at the heart of Puritan exclusionism
and hypocrisy. ) The first problem is that a legalist focuses on the
sins of others, so that he or she feels “good” by comparison. Thus, the
legalist is able to have a self image of superiority. Second, and
related, is the inability of a legalist to forgive the transgressions of
others. After all, they are simply not worthy, or they would have been
“good” like the legalist. There is much more to be said here, but it
might have to be the subject of a full post.
Thus, Hester cannot be forgiven, despite her years of good - even saint-like behavior. She is an adulterer, and thus can never
be thought of as good. Likewise, Arthur’s reputation as a saint is both
deserved and undeserved. From the Puritan point of view, he should have
been reviled, and never allowed to hold his head up ever again. Had
they known of his sin. However, without that knowledge, his deeds were
in fact admirable. He was a good pastor, a kind man, admirable except
for his one fall. Hawthorne gets this one absolutely right. Society's
opinion of Hester and Arthur has nothing
to do with their actual merits. It has everything to do with
perception. Since the Puritan society can neither realize that it is as
sinful as Hester, nor forgive her for her lapse, it must continue to
judge based on externals rather than on the criteria that really matter.
With
society unable to forgive, the drama focuses on Hester, Arthur, and
Roger. Their thoughts, noble or dark, are on display, and we are invited
to contemplate how we would behave in each situation. Would we choose
to run, as Hester tries to do? Would we continue in hypocrisy as Arthur
does, or confess in shame as he eventually does? Would we seek to
destroy those who have wronged us, and sell our souls as Roger does?
These are not easy questions, and Hawthorne knows that there is no easy,
tidy answer.
The
second point is about society itself. I feel I missed much of this on
my earlier readings because I lacked the background knowledge, and thus
Hawthorne’s clever allusions to the issues.
First,
he sets up the societal question with a reference to the “Utopia of
human virtue” that the Puritans have attempted to set up, while he at
the same time references Anne Hutchinson as a saint. As I note below, I
completely missed this, because I had no idea who Anne Hutchinson was,
and had no internet to look it up.
Later,
Hawthorne states outright exactly what this “Utopia of human virtue”
was like in real life. When Chillingworth, Hester’s missing husband,
shows up at the moment of her public shaming, an unnamed townsman says,
“Truly, friend, and methinks it must gladden your heart, after your
troubles and sojourn in the wilderness, to find yourself, at length, in a
land where iniquity is search out, and punished in the sight of rulers
and people; as here in our godly New England.”
In
many ways, I cannot think of a more clear statement of exactly why I
fear a totalitarian theocracy. Here are united in unholy alliance, a
morbid focus on the “iniquity” of other people, and the temporal power
to hunt down and eliminate it. There is something terrifying about a
self-righteous group, sure that it alone holds the knowledge of the
truth, with the power and desire to eliminate all opponents. That way
lie the burning of heretics and witches. Lest I be accused of being
unfair to religious totalitarianism, let me note that Raymond Aron
convincingly describes Communism as a religion of its own (substituting
“the end of history,” aka fate, for a supreme being). I would note that
Nazism also qualifies under this criteria. The elements are a belief in
the inevitable correctness of one’s ideology (and morality), the
temporal power to crush all dissent, and the will to carry it through.
The Inquisition, the Witch Trials, Stalin’s purges - all of these give
evidence of the danger of the belief that it is excusable to slaughter
those who refuse to honor the orthodoxy. As I note below, it was the
trial of Anne Hutchinson - referred to by Hawthorne - that set the
Puritans on the path to the Witch Trials, which would eventually destroy
their attempts at theocracy.
Hawthorne
also notes that Pearl, a mere innocent child, is punished every bit as
much as Hester. The suspicion of bastards was hardly limited to the
Puritans, of course. The law itself sought to eliminate illegitimacy by
whatever means it could, even if it meant the starvation of bastards and
the inevitable prostitution of abandoned mistresses. (Hugo portrays
this quandary in his moving Les Miserables.) Shakespeare felt no qualms about casting the villain of Lear
as a bastard - one who would naturally be irreverent of the higher
powers. Thus, Pearl is believed to be of “demon origin.” The other
children are not permitted to play with her. She is cut off just as her
mother is. (There is a definite trend in this direction in modern
conservative Christian circles toward severe limiting of contact with
“contaminated” outsiders - something I did not notice as a child since I
had a wide variety of friends. Including children born out of wedlock.
We didn’t do the isolation dance, even when I was older. But make no
mistake, a key belief in these circles is the need to isolate children
from anyone who might be a “bad influence,” and this very much includes
those from single parent or divorced families.)
Pearl
serves as an example of this prejudice, to be sure, but she also serves
as a sort of prototype for what the author views as the strong woman
that would emerge after the fall of the Puritans. Beginning with Anne
Bradstreet, whose poems I read concurrently with this book, there arose
in the colonies, and later in the emergent United States, a feminist
undercurrent, which would eventually give rise to women’s suffrage. It
is no accident that Hawthorne mentions these ideas within the book.
Hester allows her mind to expand while she is left to her ignominious
solitude.
Much
of the marble coldness of Hester’s impression was to be attributed to
the circumstance that her life had turned, in a great measure, from
passion and feeling, to thought. Standing alone in the world,—alone, as
to any dependence on society, and with little Pearl to be guided and
protected—alone, and hopeless of retrieving her position, even had she
not scorned to consider it desirable,—she cast away the fragments of a
broken chain. The world’s law was no law for her mind. It was an age in
which the human intellect, newly emancipated, had taken a more active
and a wider range than for many centuries before. Men of the sword had
overthrown nobles and kings. Men bolder than these had overthrown and
rearranged—not actually, but within the sphere of theory, which was
their most real abode—the whole system of ancient prejudice, wherewith
was linked much of ancient principle. Hester Prynne imbibed this spirit.
She assumed a freedom of speculation, then common enough on the other
side of the Atlantic, but which our forefathers, had they known of it,
would have held to be a deadlier crime than that stigmatized by the
scarlet letter. In her lonesome cottage, by the seashore, thoughts
visited her, such as dared to enter no other dwelling in New England;
shadowy guests, that would have been as perilous as demons to their
entertainer, could they have been seen so much as knocking at her door.
That
Hawthorne considered a break in the “ancient prejudice” of the belief
in the congenital inferiority of women can be seen by the lines a few
paragraphs in.
Indeed,
the same dark question often rose into her mind, with reference to the
whole race of womanhood. Was existence worth accepting, even to the
happiest among them? As concerned her own individual existence, she had
long ago decided in the negative, and dismissed the point as settled. A
tendency to speculation, though it may keep woman quiet, as it does man,
yet makes her sad. She discerns, it may be, such a hopeless task before
her. As a first step, the whole system of society is to be torn down,
and built up anew. Then, the very nature of the opposite sex, or its
long hereditary habit, which has become like nature, is to be
essentially modified, before woman can be allowed to assume what seems a
fair and suitable position. Finally, all other difficulties being
obviated, woman cannot take advantage of these preliminary reforms,
until she herself shall have undergone a still mightier change; in
which, perhaps, the ethereal essence, wherein she has her truest life,
will be found to have evaporated. A woman never overcomes these problems
by any exercise of thought. They are not to be solved, or only in one
way. If her heart chance to come upper-most, they vanish.
This
is one reason that Hawthorne remains popular today. He understood the
sexual dynamic at work here. I was surprised to see that even this
early, Hawthorne notes a concept that I had thought of as more modern.
This is the dichotomy known as the Madonna and the Slut. A woman must
position herself in one of these two categories, or society will do it
for her. Either she fully embraces her societal role as a wife and
mother, or she is considered to be sexually dangerous. Hawthorne
specifically compares Hester on the scaffold to the Madonna, while
noting her status as a fallen woman. He has just mentioned Anne
Hutchinson, and this is no accident. Hutchinson largely fit the
“Madonna” conception. She had a large family, worked as a midwife, and
was generally accepted by society. However, she refused to stay in that
box, and started discussing and teaching theology with other women.
Before long, she was being publicly accused of having orgies. If only
one could write this off as a relic of the past. Within the Christian
Patriarchy movement, there is a strong belief against sending females to
college. After all, their acceptable role is that of wife and mother. I
also recall that there was a common fear that was used as a tool. “If
your daughter goes to college, she will be pregnant in two years.” Or
its variant, that she would become a lesbian. Someone within the
movement said that recently (I can’t find where I saw it now) but it has
been used over and over. I remember hearing it as a child even before
our time in the Patriarchy movement. I am thankful that my parents (and
my in-laws) strongly rejected this idea, and encouraged the girls to
seek an education. I will also note that college did not result in
promiscuity. It was just the pernicious dichotomy resurrected for a new
generation. (See my note below for more on this issue.)
Finally,
at the very end of the book, when Hester returns to her home and life
after Pearl is grown and married, she becomes a counsellor to young
women like her former self.
She
assured them, too, of her firm belief, that, at some brighter period,
when the world should have grown ripe for it, in Heaven’s own time, a
new truth would be revealed, in order to establish the whole relation
between man and woman on a surer ground of mutual happiness.
Hawthorne’s
own marriage demonstrated his aim in this passage. He wrote that she
"is, in the strictest sense, my sole companion; and I need no
other—there is no vacancy in my mind, any more than in my heart... Thank
God that I suffice for her boundless heart!"
I
love that he mentions his mind as well as his heart. The view of a
woman, not just as one to be loved, but an intellectual equal, was still
revolutionary in Hawthorne’s day, when most men believed that a true
intellectual friendship was only possible with other men. In Hester’s
time, it was unthinkable. Women who dared to act intellectually either
did so carefully and with subterfuge like Anne Bradstreet; or, they paid
the price like Anne Hutchinson.
I
have a few final thoughts. Pearl’s personality didn’t make much of an
impression on me during my earlier readings. Probably, I just wasn’t
that interested in seven year old girls. Now that I have daughters of my
own, I recognize her. Because one (and maybe all) of my daughters share
her traits. My middle daughter, in particular, could be described here:
In
the little chaos of Pearl’s character, there might be seen emerging—and
could have been, from the very first—the steadfast principles of an
unflinching courage,—an uncontrollable will,—a sturdy pride, which might
be disciplined into self-respect—and a bitter scorn of many things,
which, when examined, might be found to have the taint of falsehood in
them.
Perhaps Hawthorne has explained why my daughters are like this, though:
There was fire in her and throughout her; she seemed the unpremeditated offshoot of a passionate moment.
As I explain to those who jokingly ask how I ended up with five children, each of my children was conceived in a reckless moment of wild, completely irresponsible passion...
Note on the life of Anne Hutchinson:
Nathaniel Hawthorne mentions a name at the beginning of The Scarlet Letter,
a name which recurs later in the book. I do not remember noticing this
name as a child, when my mother read this book to us. Likewise, I do not
recall that it made much of an impression when I re-read the book for
my literature class in my junior year of high school. Of course, this
was before the internet became ubiquitous, so I would have been less
likely to pause and look up an unfamiliar name.
The
name is that of Anne Hutchinson. Who was she, and why did Hawthorne
draw an intentional parallel between her and Hester Prynne?
Anne
Hutchinson was one of the central figures in the “Antinomian
Controversy” of the 1630s in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Without
getting into the theology too much, the question was about the relative
roles of law and grace in salvation and the Christian life. Martin
Luther was accused of antinomianism, as were many of the early
protestants such as the anabaptists. (My ancestors, the Mennonites, were
also labeled with the epithet, as were the Quakers.) The general belief
was that salvation was through grace alone, without works, and that the
law was no longer binding after salvation. The Puritans emphasized the
need for good works for proof of salvation, and, in a key difference,
held to a doctrine of “preparationism.” This meant a list of good works
that a person should do to prepare themselves to be worthy of salvation.
In addition, the Puritans laid a great emphasis on judging a person’s
spiritual state by their outward works. I don’t have a problem with
looking for a person’s “fruit,” and neither do most “antinomians,” but
the fruit of the Spirit, as defined in Galatians, looks vastly different
from that required by legalistic groups, from the Puritans to the modern
day Patriarchists. Then, as now, there was an emphasis on unquestioning
agreement with authorities, bans on dancing and holidays, restrictions
on acceptable clothing, and rigid gender roles.
As
would be expected, there was no love lost between the groups. The
Puritans accused the free grace group of being libertines (although
there is no evidence that they actually lived differently from the
Puritans) while the free grace group accused the Puritans of adhering to
a “covenant of works.” If this had been the sole source of
controversy, it probably would not have boiled over the way it did. The
free grace group also advocated for a degree of equality for women,
particularly in spiritual matters. Anne held studies at her house,
wherein she and an eventually large group of women discussed scripture
and sermons and theology. This was not considered a particularly proper
role for a woman - at least by the Puritans. Things went downhill from
there, particularly regarding the accusations thrown at Anne, who by all
accounts was a virtuous and charitable person, much like Hawthorne’s
portrayal of Hester Prynne. Nevertheless, the worst of the accusers
claimed she hosted orgies at her house, and communed with the devil -
the usual rot directed at non-conformist women at the time.
Feeding
all of this was a political feud between former governor Henry Vane
(who supported the free grace group) and current governor John Winthrop,
a prominent Puritan. This fatal combination of church and state led to
things boiling over in a war of rhetoric and accusations about who was a
qualified minister - or wasn’t.
Hutchinson
was put on trial for what boiled down to heresy, along with ministers
John Cotton and John Wheelwright, who were also accused of sedition (for
publicly speaking against the established pastors. At that time,
pastors were paid by the State, and were thus government officials.)
Poet Anne Bradstreet’s husband Simon, who would later become governor
himself, was technically on the prosecution side, nevertheless
sympathized with the defendants, and would later advocate for free
speech rights. It is his record of the trial that is the source of much
of what we know about the dispute.
At
first, during the trial, Hutchinson was able to deflect most of the
accusations. Unlike her co-defendants, she had never committed herself
in a public forum, speaking only in her own home. Winthrop, who seems to
have taken a violent dislike to her personally, grilled her on
theology. (Much of this was recorded by Simon Bradstreet) The general
consensus is that she held her own quite well, and probably bested
Winthrop in her knowledge of the Bible and of theology. Winthrop did not
take this well, and spent pages in his diary pouring forth bile about
her. However, it is unclear how the trial would have ended had Anne not
made a fatal misstep. She requested permission to address the court and
tell it the truth. (Lawyers everywhere are slamming their heads on their
desks at this point. It is NEVER a good thing when a client in a
criminal matter wishes to take the stand. Bad things just happen.) Anne
took the opportunity to say exactly what she thought of Winthrop, the
Puritans, and predicted that God would avenge her. This was definitely
not the best course of action, particularly once she attacked elected
officials such as Winthrop and the state-employed clergy.. (We forget,
living in a nation with the right to criticise those in power, that this
was once a serious crime.) As a result, she was banished from the
colony. She would also face a church trial, at which she refused to
recant, and was excommunicated.
She
and her family fled, settling first in the fledgling colony of Rhode
Island (founded to provide freedom for religious dissenters), and
eventually in what is now the Bronx, but was savage wilderness at the
time.
Soon
after her exile, she suffered from what we now believe is a
hydatidiform mole, a pregnancy gone wrong. (She had had fifteen
children, and was nearing menopause.) Winthrop, in what has to be the
low point of his career, wrote a particularly vicious and gloating
letter, claiming that deformed doctrine led to deformed pregnancies,
also mocking another woman in the movement for having a miscarriage.
The
saga has a sad ending. Anne and her younger children were murdered by
Native American raiders, along with a number of other residents of the
area. John Winthrop undoubtedly would have considered this a fitting end
for a disgraceful heretic.
History
did have the last laugh, however. Hutchinson would be the ancestor of
no fewer than three United States Presidents: Franklin Roosevelt, George
H. W. Bush, and George W. Bush. Also descended from her are
presidential candidates Stephen Douglas and Mitt Romney and Chief
Justice of the Supreme Court Melville Weston Fuller. Most interesting of
all, from a lawyer’s perspective, her bloodline would unite with that
of Anne and Simon Bradstreet in the person of Supreme Court Justice
Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., to this day one of the most influential
American justices.
The
Puritans did not fare so well. About fifty years later, they would
follow up the figurative witch hunt against the outspoken Anne
Hutchinson with a literal witch hunt that would leave dozens of innocent
women dead, and faith in the wisdom of the Puritans forever shaken. As
historian George Lincoln Burr would put it, "More than once it has been
said, too, that the Salem witchcraft was the rock on which the theocracy
shattered." From that point on, the colonies would begin to amend their
constitutions to allow religious toleration, and move toward a
consensus of freedom of speech, association, press, and religion which
would eventually become the First Amendment of the Constitution of the
new nation.
Additional note on Patriarchy and the Puritans:
Let
me give a little more of my personal history here. I attended two “home
churches” during my early twenties, before my wife and I began dating.
The first was one that my family formed out of the blow-up of a small
church caused by the pastor’s abusive behavior - and his attempted
seduction of a church member. That group contained families that had
been hurt, but was not solely those of us affiliated with the Gothard
organization. It lasted for a year or so, at which point all of us went
our separate ways amicably.
The
next experience was not so positive. The group was a geographic
spin-off of the home church led by Jonathan Lindvall. (My wife’s family
spent time in that group. Perhaps some day I can convince her to share
her unpleasant experiences there.) In
my lengthy post on Patriarchy and White Supremacy, I laid out the
connection to theologians writing prior to the Civil War. These
theologians were in turn influenced by Puritan writers. The modern day
Patriarchy movement venerates the Puritans, particularly their views on
theocracy and the establishment of a utopian Christian society. They
also mirror the Puritan's views of the proper place of women.
During
the time I attended, a big meeting was held, triggered by a request
that the leaders of the group clarify what women could and could not do.
At that time, young and naive, I honestly believed that they would be
open to considering the whole of scripture, rather than a single
passage, so I accepted the invitation to participate. The decision,
which was pretty much a foregone conclusion, was that women were not
permitted to speak at all. They could not read scripture. They could not
share what God had laid on their hearts. They could not ask questions.
They certainly
could not discuss theology. In fact, it was pretty well agreed that
they should not discuss theology with each other - after all, women are
naturally prone to be deceived. If they had questions, they could ask
their husbands, and that was the end of the matter. I do recall that
women were begrudgingly allowed to sing along with the music, but that
was less due to a belief that they had that right than the fact that
they sang better than the men, on average, so our singing would be
terrible without them. I kid you not. “Quietness” was interpreted to
mean utter silence. I can tell you that this is not unusual in Christian
Patriarchy.
Need
I even mention that no women were invited - or welcome - at this
meeting? Their input was not desired, or considered of any value.
This
was not the only parallel to the story of Anne Hutchinson and the
Puritans that I observed. The groups that I was in viciously punished
any and all women who failed to stay in their place. If a woman wanted
to go outside her sphere and discuss things either intellectual or
“male” such as cars or sports, she was quickly put in her place, and
told that those topics were off limits. In addition, just as in the case
of Anne Hutchinson, she would soon be accused of sexual misconduct.
“Flirting” with the young men, for example. And unless she agreed to
subsume her desires and stay in her box, she would eventually be cast
from the group.
I
discuss above the “Madonna/Slut” dichotomy, and it is my experiences
and observation while part of these groups that let me to formulate
something of this sort, although I did not actually discover that it was
an idea propounded many years ago. It is completely predictable within
these groups. The failure of a woman to conform and stay in the domestic
box leads rapidly to a spurious accusation of sexual offenses. Every
single time. Actual evidence doesn’t matter.
In
a strikingly similar manner, any argument with a legalist over the
meaning of grace will quickly move to the “orgy” argument. Every single
time. Try it - and bring your stopwatch. The argument - just as it was
with the Puritans - and those before them - is that if you don’t enforce
the rules, the next thing you know, everybody will be having orgies. Or
become lesbians. Or have lesbian orgies or something.
And,
unsurprisingly, the “rules” are never about love, joy, peace, patience,
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, or self control. Instead,
they are about externals. Dressing a certain way. Avoiding undesirable
people. Reading only certain books. Not celebrating Christmas (hello
Puritans?). And more than anything else, keeping women in their box.
Soon
after this, I left the group, asked an intelligent young woman on a
date, and joined the Evangelical Free Church that we attend together
with our family to this date. The Puritans would undoubtedly consider
our theology to be dangerously antinomian. Even worse, we refuse to take
a dogmatic position on predestination, so we have both Calvinists and Arminians in the same congregation. But don’t worry: we don’t have orgies.
For a fascinating article on the parallel lives of Anne Bradstreet and Anne Hutchinson, see this post by the Poetry Foundation.
