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A review by ninazlatkovic
The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
5.0
I honestly love this book and have no idea what people mean when they say it is unreadable, the language is WONDERFUL.
Here are a couple of quotes I loved:
"Continuously, and in a thousand other ways, did she feel the innumerable throbs of anguish that had been so cunningly contrived for her by the undying, the ever-active sentence of the Puritan tribunal."
"His form grew emancipated; his voice, though still rich and sweet, had a certain melancholy prophecy of decay in it"
"He now dug into the poor clergyman's heart, like a miner searching for gold; or, rather, like a sexton delving into a grave, possibly in quest of a jewel that had been buried on the dead man's bosom, but likely to find nothing save mortality and corruption."
" To the untrue man, the whole universe is false - it is impalpable - it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow or, indeed, ceases to exist."
"The truth seems to be, however, that the mother-forest, and these wild things which it nourished, all recognized a kindred wildness in the human child. And she was gentler here than in the grassy-margined streets of the settlement, or in her mother's cottage. The flowers appeared to know it, and one and another whispered as the passed 'Adorn thyself with me, thou beautiful child, adorn thyself with me!' - and, to please them, Pearl gathered the violets, and anemones, and columbines, and some twigs of the freshest green, which the old trees held down before her eyes. With these she decorated her hair and her young waist, and became a nymph-child, or an infant-dryad, or whatever else was in closest sympathy with the antique wood."
Seriously, did we read the same book?!
Here are a couple of quotes I loved:
"Continuously, and in a thousand other ways, did she feel the innumerable throbs of anguish that had been so cunningly contrived for her by the undying, the ever-active sentence of the Puritan tribunal."
"His form grew emancipated; his voice, though still rich and sweet, had a certain melancholy prophecy of decay in it"
"He now dug into the poor clergyman's heart, like a miner searching for gold; or, rather, like a sexton delving into a grave, possibly in quest of a jewel that had been buried on the dead man's bosom, but likely to find nothing save mortality and corruption."
" To the untrue man, the whole universe is false - it is impalpable - it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow or, indeed, ceases to exist."
"The truth seems to be, however, that the mother-forest, and these wild things which it nourished, all recognized a kindred wildness in the human child. And she was gentler here than in the grassy-margined streets of the settlement, or in her mother's cottage. The flowers appeared to know it, and one and another whispered as the passed 'Adorn thyself with me, thou beautiful child, adorn thyself with me!' - and, to please them, Pearl gathered the violets, and anemones, and columbines, and some twigs of the freshest green, which the old trees held down before her eyes. With these she decorated her hair and her young waist, and became a nymph-child, or an infant-dryad, or whatever else was in closest sympathy with the antique wood."
Seriously, did we read the same book?!