My Thoughts on Hester Prynne

Until the reading for class, I had never before read “The Scarlet Letter”, nor had I watched the movie. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I loved it. I loved Hester Prynne, she is my new hero! Hester was a remarkable woman. So what that she committed adultery, her husband did basically abandon her. Myself, I am not an adulteress, nor do I condone it, but I can relate to Hester and the utter loneliness that she must have felt for years.

Hester walked the straight and narrow regardless of that letter “A”. She could have buckled under the shame, but she kept her head up and kept persevering. She kept her pride as a human being and a woman. Hester was a help to anyone and everyone who needed her, and she did it with no ulterior motive. She provided for herself and for Pearl without help from anyone else. She did it all!

Hester made her a place in the world, no matter the scorn she received. She, unlike them, had respect for everyone, except for her husband. Who could blame her? Hester was strong- willed and strong-minded. She had faith and a beautiful heart; she had much patience and was of quiet spirit. Hester also was most courageous and thought things out thoroughly before she spoke or acted.

I think very highly of Hester Prynne. I would not mind being the beautiful person she was- I hope to attain most of these qualities during my life; some I have, others like speaking BEFORE thinking, I need to work on! We all have flaws and have done things that we are not proud of, but we must learn from our mistakes. Hester was the most independent woman that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting! This is a story that I will not soon forget!

Dickinson, Poe, and Plath

What a cold, dreary day outside today. I love it. I enjoy morbidity and dark literature. It started as a young girl, reading Emily Dickinson. Then in about fourth grade I met Poe- I had gotten the book "Fall of the House of Usher". I was in love, I read that book many times!
I am right at home with topics such as death, suicide, and such. (No I am not suicidal-I love my life) I know what it feels like to be at the bottom and looking upward for some thing to cling onto. I know what it feels like to be spiraling out of control and just barely grasping enough sanity to try to hang on. I can relate to these poets. Their poetry makes me happy, makes me think. At the present time, I am going through a very painful divorce, painful because I do not want it, but it just may be what is best for me. Who knows? I am slowly getting through it and my depression doesn't help, but these wonderful poets do, they remind me of everything good in my life, which honestly speaking is quite alot.

I look at each day as the beginning of my life and I make the best of it. I especially like Dickinson's "I Could Not Stop for Death" because it reminds me of how short life really is and that we are not promised another day- live each day like it is your last! (One day it will be and I need to make the most I can out of each day!) Another poem I really like by Poe is "Alone"- I like the lines which read: My sorrow-I could not awaken/My heart to joy at the same tone--And all I lov'd-I'd lov'd alone--

My favorite poet of the three is Sylvia Plath (who did commit suicide). Her poem "Lady Lazarus" is a wonderful, self-revealing poem. She tells of her previous suicide attempts. She compares herself to a cat having nine times to die. I like the following stanza: Dying/ Is an art, like everything else./ I do it exceptionally well. I do too, everyday, I take it as yesterday as being dead and to be reborn everyday. I feel as though I understand what she is feeling but on a different level. I have gone through two divorces, and have "died" many times, in between. Life goes on and I look forward to each new day!

 

 

Sylvia Plath

Numb

Numb, but I hurt

Heart bleeds,

Spinning in circles

Brain racing-won't stop;

on the verge of insanity.

Numb, but I feel.

Heart, aches, is heavy; 

turning to stone.

Hate the lies, 

the deception.

Damn the numbness-

making me crazy.

Nothing is happy.

Days are dark.

To smile now,

would be to die.

So numb-

can't touch happiness.

 

This a poem I wrote during a particularly depressed time in my life, I wrote it about eight years ago. I am thankful, for it is the season of Thanksgiving, that this poem is no longer me.