Paula Reed

The Scarlet Letter is a story I've re-read at different times in my life and responded to differently based on maturity and experience. In my opinion, one must really be able to relate to Hester's point of view in order to really get all there is to get out of The Scarlet Letter. Yeah, you can be the scorned and bitter type and get Chillingworth, you can be the self-hating man with a martyr complex and get Dimmesdale, but to get Hester, you've got to understand redemption. You've got to "get" grace. Not everyone who reads Hester sympathizes with Hester. You sort of have to have been Hester to get it and the more life experiences I have that draw me closer to her character---all of her character---the more I cherish the story.

Reed pretty much butchers everything Hawthorne built in the character of Hester. Granted, there were some great story line themes but I was disappointed overall. As one who usually doesn't enjoy continuations, I was willing to come into this one with an open mind. I started out really admiring the new, stronger Hester; but as the author destroyed her strong and sure character more and more as the book progressed, I ended up highly disliking and disrespecting her.

It's interesting that one character trait that many reviewers seem to despise was the one thing about her that seemed completely real and believable to me. Because of her experience with the consequences of sin, Hester has the ability to see the sins of others. I, too, see hypocrisy and hidden sin in people. It's a discernment that God gives to some---a trust so one can pray and possibly speak into the situation at the appropriate time. And yes, it requires a little bit of, "it takes one to know one." Hester describes it as a mantle that they wear---I see it as a name or title they are given. As a Christian, I know that God desires us to walk with the character of Christ. When we sin, he doesn't desire to call us by that sinful name, but to give us a new name that symbolizes our redemption and salvation through him (Rev. 2). When I see a person burdened by their secret sin and that sin is named to me, I am able to privately pray into that specific situation, usually without the person ever realizing I know, in a way that not everyone can. Hester's "ability", as well as the way she was treated because of it, seems perfectly plausible to me as I have operated in this fashion to varying extents for years.

Now for all the stuff I didn't like...

Hester's deep and regular involvement in aiding Cromwell seems *a bit* contrived and overdone. Her discernment of peoples' motives and private sins was an interesting twist at first, but the author turned it into something seemingly unbelievable when she made Hester, a commoner and a woman without a male head, a most trusted aid to Cromwell. This is the 17th century we're talking about. At best, she would have been thrown out of the Wright's home to avoid scandal on their good name. At worst, she would have been condemned as a witch. Never would she have been, one day and seemingly without much thought, private confidant, and later conscience, (what????) of the Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell.

I was also really annoyed with her free and easy sexual nature. The author wanted the opportunity to bring in a Libertine character since that was a big Charles II "thing", but the derogatory sexual escapades and language that Hester uses change her from a woman with passions who had already learned to bridle them to something cheap and nasty. The author seemed to think Hester had to have some kind of "release" and thus took up with the character of John. But seriously, if she was so desperate for more illicit sex, wouldn't we have seen that crop up in The Scarlet Letter, where she lived alone and shunned, rather than later on when she had friends and the respect of those around her?

It would have been nice to see Pearl learn from her mother's mistakes, but instead we have to follow the predictable "sins of the fathers" trope and watch her fall into the lust trap---only to be rescued in probably the most ridiculously contrived part of the story. (Except for maybe the part about Charles II and his entourage taking regular dinners with Hester and Pearl in their little townhouse in Buges.)

Speaking of tropes, I get so tired of the "every man will betray you" garbage. Hester lectures Pearl about her ignorance toward men and assures her that even her beloved new beau will betray her before long. Men just can't. be. trusted. Sure, that might be true---but no one bothers to point out that women betray their men in the same ways. It's called being human. You stay with someone long enough and they will hurt you at some point. No matter how true in spirit they are. Can we get off the man-hater wagon...or, at the least, acknowledge we women are no better when it comes to disappointing the ones we love?

Anyone who is a fan of Hawthorne and The Scarlet Letter will probably want to read this one---regardless of how lousy the reviews are. If you go into it ready to chuck plausibility, historical accuracy, and depth of character growth out the window, you'll surely find something redeemable about the story.… (meer)

The first and last time I read The Scarlet Letter was the summer before junior year of high school. It, along with a list of other books, was assigned summer reading for AP English. I didn't much care for it, and didn't think much about after I was done and the assignment turned in. I honestly wasn't sure what to expect when I started Hester. I contemplated re-reading The Scarlet Letter first but dismissed the thought based on bad associations of forced summer reading journals. After reading Hester, I am reconsidering. Reed takes a well-known classic book and adds more depth to the characters, giving them more purpose, more plot, and more life. It was interesting having flashes of Hawthorne's book coming back to me as I read.

Towards the end of Hawthorne's novel, Hester takes her daughter and leaves for England. Time passes and she eventually returns alone to New England and settles back down into her old cottage. Reed's book tackles the gigantic question of what happened in between. She invents a backstory for Hester, a loving childhood friend who takes her and Pearl in, and expands upon the insight the red "A" gifted Hester so that she can see a person's guilt and sin. Her friend is married to a member of Oliver Cromwell's circle, and Hester soon finds herself compelled to use her sight on Cromwell's behalf and becomes embroiled into the politics of the Roundheads and the Royalists.

I really liked the book. I didn't expect to and I did. There is loads of political intrigue, lots of introspective self-reflection on Hester's part, history, and even a spot of romance or two. And character growth by the truckload. Reed brought Hester alive in a way that Hawthorne never did for me.

Review copy courtesy of the publisher via Goodreads First Reads… (meer)

This story tells about the missing years in Hester's life and gives you an idea of what happens to Pearl. After Roger Chillingworth dies and leaves his estate to Pearl, Hester takes her back to England. While in England, Hester becomes involved in affairs of state in a way that is unexpected. You get to see men of history like Oliver Cromwell through Hester's eyes. I found the storyline to be interesting and especially loved Pearl's character. I liked the way this book went along with The Scarlet Letter. I was surprised to find myself really involved in Hester's life and overall loved this book.… (meer)

This is a curious little book. My survey of fashion history has been guided mainly by Pinterest and Google Images, so maybe I've acquired a skewed perception of the Fifties. I mention this because Reed's book does not parallel my perception. Because of that, it overcame my initial disappointment with it.

I buy fashion books for the pictures. This one has 102 pages (not counting front and end matter), and half of them are pictures. It's laid out in facing-page pairs (50 of them plus an intro pair), text on the left and picture on the right. Each pair is addressed to a single aspect of Fifties fashion, few of which are what I would consider to be a "look." The vast majority are people as groups or individuals, a few are articles of dress, and a couple actually are what I'd call a "look."

The people includes some I'd heard of (not all of whom I associate with Fifties fashion, or even with fashion at all), several I had not, and several omissions that astonished me. For example, Dovima is on the dust jacket and nowhere else—not even a mention.

I am glad to have heard now of many of the people I'd not heard of at all, so that's all right. Then there are the interesting atypical takes on people I *had* heard of, like Grace Kelly. And then there are the people I didn't associate with fashion. With some, like Alfred Hitchcock, she makes a decent case for their influence. Others, like the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, still perplex me.

The writing style is breathless, there are more than a few suspect statements, and it manages to contradict itself: the page on synthetic fibers describes them first as "easy care" and later as "hard to keep clean." On the other hand, there are times when Reed didn't say enough: I'm perfectly willing to accept that Gossard made a new corset better suited to Fifties dresses than its predecessors—but how was it better, or at least why was it worth the mention? Still, there is enough seemingly legit stuff that interests or is new to me that I didn't resent the flaws. I genuinely appreciate the book, even if it is mainly for giving me new people to wish I looked like.

Now I would like to complain about the title, specifically the "changed the 1950s" part. Those things did not change the Fifties, they made the Fifties (as far as fashion is concerned). The Fifties began as a blank slate that was filled in as it passed. One cannot change what does not yet exist, one can only change from what has been. (I don't think Reed called anything "timeless," though, so she gets points for that.)… (meer)