Some Notes on the Physical Descriptions of Characters
Dimmesdale’s weakness is highly sexualized in that peculiar way that the Victorians and the eighteenth century Romantic poets were so endeared to. Dimmesdale’s description, with his “large, brown, melancholy eyes” and “mouth which, unless when he forcibly compressed it, was apt to be tremulous” evokes the sensitive, suicidal heroes of Shelley, who were eager to waste away for wont of their unattainable love – but he is by no means one of them. Instead, Dimmesdale is wasting away from sexual and spiritual guilt. He’s a mockery of the archetype: instead of his sensitivity being an extension of his extreme purity, it’s the outward product of his spiritual weakness. Susceptible to sin but to cowardly to confess; expecting, even in the very first scene, Hester to take responsibility for the confession of both of their sins. Even his guilt is impure – it would seem that he is less remorseful for his part in Hester’s than for the perceived blemish his sin leaves upon his soul.
Perhaps especially in the second half of the Scarlet Letter, I found there to be something of a reversal of gender roles, at least where Hester and Dimmesdale are concerned. Hester attempts to take their affair under her control – it is she who suggests they run away together, she who organizes the plan, in a manner much more suited to the hero of a Victorian romance than heroine. Dimmesdale, on the other hand, is a nervous wreck, and becomes hysterical (ha ha, loaded word choice there) when confronted with his own guilt and the inevitability that he must take action.
The physical descriptions of all the characters in The Scarlet Letter are very telling. There is a wonderfully polarized contrast between Hester and her husband. Hester is “tall, with a figure of perfect elegance on a large scale”, while poor Chillingworth is “small in stature, with a furrowed visage”. Hester takes pride in the finery of her needlework, Chillingworth’s attire is “a careless arrangement” of “heterogeneous garb”. And of course, there is his slight deformity: one of his shoulders is higher than the other. Significantly, it is the left shoulder – noting an elevation of the sinister in his character (as if the name “Chillingworth” weren’t enough!). This all certainly seems to put Hester on higher moral ground than he, and indeed, they have little in common, other than their fierce commitment to individualism. Even in this, they differ, however, in a way that reminds me very much of their respective sense of style. While Chillingworth cares nothing for the opinions of the mob and seeks to make himself an individual through isolation, Hester draws power from her differences. She does not want to be ignored.
February 25th, 2013 at 2:48 pm
In my own post I also focused a lot on Hester’s newfound power in the latter half of the book, and in reading yours something has occurred to me in regards to the divergence between Hester and Dimmesdale’s characters. Hester is able to find strength in forest because physical remoteness compliments her social estrangement; Dimmesdale however, remains dependent and in need of perpetual reassurance from Hester. Why is that? Well, Dimmesdale gains only a portion of the knowledge Hester does throughout the book. Both gained knowledge from committing their sin, but only Hester’s knowledge grew beyond that because she endured being ostracized for seven years while Dimmesdale hid from the prospect. Without being socially cast off, Dimmesdale couldn’t find his own personal truth, power, and knowledge. Thus, in the forest, we see him relying on Hester’s abundance of these qualities.