With the submission of this paper, I thee (Spring Break) wed...
Symbolism in The Crying of Lot 49 and The Scarlet Letter
Who would have ever thought there could be so much meaning placed in such inanimate objects as an uber-geometric doodle of a “muted” horn or a red and gold piece of “A”-shaped fabric? In nearly all of the books our class has read during the course of this semester, there has been at least some semblance of symbolism (or some similar literary device) in each of the stories that all of us could identify. Having said this, I feel that two of the more recent books we have read, Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49 and Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, have exhibited not only copious amounts of symbolism, but also have displayed it in ways that (though I’m sure the authors never intended this) are relative to one another.
I would first like to discuss the “main” symbols and their meanings (and by “meanings” I mean “potential meanings, or lack thereof” since, in many cases, we are never explicitly told what they mean). I would first like to establish them as symbols of fixation. In Pynchon’s Lot 49, the muted horn surfaces fairly early on as the object of Oedipa (the main character)’s obsession – from the moment she first spots the horn penciled onto the bathroom wall (Pynchon 38), she is from then on consumed by curiosity and desire to find out what it means. Both likewise and in contrast, in Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter, the Puritan townspeople are obsessed with Hester (the main character)’s ornate crimson “A” that has been sewn front and center onto her dress and constantly mock, chastise, and shun her because of it (at least in the early part of the book). However, their fixation over the scarlet letter is not one of curiosity – everyone knows that Hester wears the letter as a symbolic reminder of the sin she has committed: adultery.
As stated previously, I would like to present some of the meanings given to these symbols throughout both books. The muted horn seems to claim multiple meanings since it has multiple groups using it as their trademark. What Oedipa feels is that it belonged to the “Trystero,” an old mail distribution organization. She believed that, after following the trail that horn left, she had possibly uncovered the centuries old conflict between the Trystero – a fictional company dreamed up by the author – and its rival company, “Thurn und Taxis” – a company which actually existed. The muted horn also served as the symbol for some sort of swingers group (being advertised on the wall of a bathroom) looking for free love and multiple partners, and again as the “emblem” for the anonymous inamorato’s “society of isolates (Pynchon 94).” Although we are given several various possibilities for the use of this symbol, we are never made known of its initial working use or of its original purpose. We could assume that its origin was that of the Trystero, but the book is so chaotic and wild-goose-chase-esque, that it is hard to tell; we are left dangling. We react similarly to Hester’s “A” in Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter in that the author never actually comes right out and says that “A = Adulteress” (or some such form of the word). I believe, however, that we can assume it is what the author wanted us to at least think it to mean. Plus, it is what the townspeople believed, and they are mightily responsible for many of the opinions produced throughout the book (of Hester’s betrayal of loyalty to her husband, of her pride, of her inability to raise her child well, etc.). On the other hand, further down the road when Hester begins to reintroduce herself into society as a working member, the townsfolk change how they interpret the meaning from “Adulteress” (assumedly) to “Able” – by that, we can guess they mean any number of things: “able to overcome adversity,” “able to make herself useful,” the list could go on and on. By the end of the story, the people of the New England town see her “A” as a symbol to be revered. So just as in The Crying of Lot 49, the symbol of The Scarlet Letter morphs in and out of different meanings, taking on new definitions constantly.
I would like to focus next on the way symbols contrast the themes (perhaps not the themes, but certainly possible themes) of their respective stories. In The Crying of Lot 49, I see a major theme of “chaos” throughout. Moving away from the muted horn, I would like to postulate the idea that the story’s “Maxwell’s Demon” can serve as a symbol of order. The issue with the Demon is that it cannot be operated because it requires a certain unattainable level of communication (or a “sensitive” person). Since another theme would undeniably be “a breakdown in communication,” I feel as though this supports my theory when including this idea of a theme, as well. In The Scarlet Letter, I see the theme of “human frailty and sorrow” handed to us at the closing of the book’s first chapter (Hawthorne 46). In contrast, the rose is portrayed as a symbol of endurance and hope, or as the author would phrase it, “some sweet moral blossom (Hawthorne 46).” Just as Hester’s “A,” we are never actually told the true significance of the rose, though it is mentioned a few more times within the story; yet, like so many things in The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne seems to like to keep some matters a secret from his audience.
Lastly, I find a similarity in the use of evocative names by both authors, whether it be blatantly intentional (like Pynchon) or perhaps not intentional at all (like Hawthorne), though we don’t know. In Pynchon’s work, the mailing system “W.A.S.T.E” is in fact a “waste” of time since only a few people actually know of it and because its users are required to deliver mail once a week even if they have nothing to say. The main character’s name is “Oedipa,” which is strikingly similar to Sophocles’ character “Oedipus,” a Theban king whose curiosity got the best of him when he dug too deep trying to find answers to a crime which turned out to be one of his own. His unearthing of the information drives him mad; likewise, Oedipa feels as though she either is going insane or perhaps already is insane by the end of her story. Her doctor, Dr. Hilarious, lives up to his surname as he does, in fact, go insane by the end of the book. The Crying of Lot 49 is rife with sexual references, and Pynchon does not limit the boundaries of said references. Oedipa’s husband Mucho’s radio station, for example, is named “KCUF,” which if read backwards, spells out a vulgar word. Mike Fallopian’s last name is an obvious reference to a part of a woman’s anatomy. Professor Dribelette, whose last name resembles the word “dribble,” is a weak character that gives information to Oedipa in spurts, much like the meaning of “dribble,” a weak, unsteady stream of saliva. Stanley Koteks shares his last name with a brand of feminine supplies. John Nefastis’ last name is fairly close to the word “nefarious,” which means “extremely wicked” – a definition I think I would happily apply to the man after he tried to force Oedipa to have sex with him. The list could obviously go on and on; there is a trick to each character’s name. In The Scarlet Letter, however, I only found a few. Hester, I noticed, is very close to the name “Esther,” a Biblical heroin, if you merely move the “h” down between the “t” and the “e.” Since Hester is the heroin of this story, I feel this to be a possible play on the name. Her husband, who decided to take on the alias name “Chillingworth,” did do his share of “chilling” the other main characters of the book, and even the townspeople since they soon were fearful of him and thought he was the devil. Dimmesdale’s name – who, if you take the first three letters of his name, you get “dim” – seems to suggest his “dimness” or weakness (physically, emotionally, etc.). Finally, there is Hester’s daughter Pearl whose name we know to be intentionally symbolic from Hester who named her thus because she was her only treasure. I also see a subtle Biblical reference in Pearl’s name that evokes allegorical device—the “pearl of great price” used in relation to Christ purchasing us on the Cross, or salvation.
In conclusion, I would like to clarify that not everything I have stated is solid fact; much of it is opinion. Yet I feel that much of the purpose of symbolism is that the reader is to take it in and decide for himself whether or not there is more to it than just its surface meaning. In both stories cases, I believe the authors have done just that: wrote riveting works that serve as excellent works of literature for both audiences – those who take the text at face value, and those who like to read between the lines.
Works Cited
Pynchon, Thomas. Crying of Lot 49. New York: Harper Perennial, 2006.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel. The Scarlet Letter. New York: Penguin Books, 2003.
(PS: Posting this, I didn't feel like going through and re-italicizing everything, so you can just imagine it to be there since it didn't copy over.)
