The Ancient Modern-Day Woman: What Cleopatra's Legacy Means to Me

Recently in school I had to answer the following question: who is your historical figure, and why?

The question is not complex or demanding, and instantly I knew my answer. It is the same answer I use anytime I am asked this question. Cleopatra. To many, that may be a beaten to the ground, eye-roll inducing, cliché answer. I would agree with those people! I am not normally one to agree with the popular consensus, and yet, Cleopatra will always be my pick.

I think to some extent any high school girl has admiration for Cleopatra. When we learn the big names of ancient history, there’s Alexander the Great, Hammurabi, Xerxes, Mark Antony, Julius Caesar…and Cleopatra. Her name invokes a breath of fresh air, and her image in itself is empowering. She is the one female leader of that time period that the history books could not ignore.

Cleopatra doesn’t just receive recognition for being a woman; her accomplishments as a leader exceed the judgement of gender. Her savvy politics helped her ascend the throne and remain there for two decades until her untimely death. And although modern literature and film enjoy to dramatize her relationships with Mark Antony and Julius Caesar (which were also incredibly impressive feats of leadership and command), Cleopatra stands on her own as a historical figure. In fact, she is definitely more well-known than her two Roman companions.

The fact that she is so prominent in history has always made me gravitate towards her. But what makes Cleopatra’s legacy fascinating to me is beyond her title and her long reign; it is the fact that Cleopatra was a leader who embraced he femininity and led as a woman, and did so unapologetically in a time when that was unthinkable. In these times, I think we could use another Cleopatra, and it is sad that I think the world would have a more adverse reaction to a leader of her nature than they did in ancient times. Cleopatra was the embodiment of an ancient modern-day woman, and I am forever grateful for her rich legacy.

The Scarlet Letter: An Underwhelming Introduction to American Literature

This year in English, the focus of my class is on reading and exploring classic American literature, starting with the Puritans and The Scarlet Letter, all the way to The Great Gatsby and beyond. And while I am excited to further familiarize myself with such iconic titles, The Scarlet Letter was not all I hoped it would be. 

There were some elements of the novel I enjoyed. Hester Prynne could be a twenty-first century woman who just happens to be dealing with eighteenth-century issues. Being a single mother and the hardships and judgement that come with that are still very relevant issues today, and Hester is an excellently written female character, even more impressive is the fact that she was written in a time when women were rarely considered “complex.”

I also thought the symbolism of the scarlet letter was creative and perhaps the best developed “character” of the novel. It added an added layer of depth that helped carry the plot; the evolution of the letter’s meaning was also an interesting progression.

My gripes with The Scarlet Letter has nothing to do with the novel being “old”; some of my favorite books come from older eras. I actually love the storyline of the novel, especially when the plot finally starts to be explored. My main issues are unfortunately the fault of author Nathaniel Hawthorne himself. Hawthorne’s horrendous pacing combined with his half-baked character development makes The Scarlet Letter a great story that is hard to get through. 

First, the pacing. The first 100 pages or so of the novel are a collection of elaborate descriptions and intense discussions, none of which lead to any action. Dragging out long sentences, sometimes even paragraphs, about the natural surroundings of the character, or what they’re looking at, do little to enhance the narrative.  And once the story starts to ramp up, specifically as Hester and Dimmesdale reunite to plot against the manipulative Chillingworth, the pacing becomes rushed, and the novel comes to a very abrupt and unsatisfying ending. Loose ends were wrapped up in short and convenient little bows, with little explanation as to how or why certain things happen, like why Chillingworth leaves his fortune to Pearl when she is not even his child, or how Hester is welcomed back into the community.

I also felt that the character development was rushed, excluding Hester, who was a captivating and well-rounded character throughout the novel. Dimmesdale’s transition from the secretive and depressed reverend to the great father and “brave” confessor of sins is unbelievable; Dimmesdale’s development is extremely out of character. He works best as a character when he is the cowardly man who cannot face his sins, but does not have to because the public loves him; this works better as a foil to Chillingworth, who, although has impure motives, has strong conviction and is not afraid to stay true to his intentions. 

Pearl was also a character who fell off the map in the second half of the story, and while this was intentionally done to fit Hester’s character development, she played such a major role in the first 100 pages, and I wanted to see more of her perspective towards the end. I also thought her ending, simply getting Chillingworth’s inheritance, was anticlimactic for such a pivotal character.

Overall, I respect The Scarlet Letter and its place in American literature’s history. However, I would not read it again, and I would not recommend this book if it was not considered a “classic.” Hester Prynne deserved a more well-rounded supporting cast, and unfortunately, Nathaniel Hawthorne was too preoccupied with including nature and symbolism to give her that.