This column is part of our ongoing Opinion commentary on faith, called Living Our Faith. Find the full series here.
Twenty years had passed since the last time I’d read Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter. A novel doesn’t change, no matter how much time goes by. But a reader changes. And the world does, too.
Last summer, when I returned to this classic — the bane of many a high school student — as part of a project of editing and annotating a series introducing classics to Christian readers, I was taken aback by something I had never seen in the book before.
Like most readers, I’d always understood The Scarlet Letter to be a story about adultery. After all, the assumed meaning of the titular “A,” pinned as a badge of dishonor to Hester Prynne’s breast, is to mark her for that particular sin. But what I realized upon this recent reading is…
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