then the guilt we feel due to original sin is com-
pounded by our need to repay Jesus for his sacrifice.
Indeed, religion has historically played an impor-
tant role in the development of the concept of guilt.
Arthur Dimmesdale, in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s
The scarLet Letter, is a good example of guilt
driven by religious beliefs. The Puritan code under
which Dimmesdale lives confines him so that he
cannot admit his affair with Hester (who cannot
hide the evidence that she has sinned). Although
engaging in adultery would certainly break the rules
of his society, he is so stifled that he further com-
pounds his guilt by refusing to admit the truth and
claim Pearl as his child. Hester, on the other hand, is
not consumed with guilt, adhering to her own moral
code, which appears more natural in comparison.
For some, Christianity puts too much emphasis
on the sinful (and thus guilty) nature of human
beings. This is arguably a distortion of the mes-
sage of Jesus Christ, which emphasizes love and
goodwill toward other humans. One explanation for
this distorted emphasis is that for Christian leaders,
keeping their flocks “in line” is one of their most
arduous tasks. Convincing the faithful that they
must constantly atone in order to be admitted to the
kingdom of Heaven keeps them from complacency.
In “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,”
Jonathan Edwards elucidates the horrors of hell,
invoking the wrathful Old Testament God rather
than the New Testament Christ. This has the effect
of scaring the listeners into prayer, which will help
to balance their inherently guilty natures.
This balance, which can also be described as a
kind of repayment, is what differentiates guilt from
its close counterpart, shame. The American philoso-
pher John Rawls believed that in order to experience
guilt, another must have been harmed in some way.
Guilt, said Rawls, is also localized—that is, it is
about our transgressions—whereas shame is about
who we think we are as people. Thus, repayment and
punishment are appropriate only to guilt, not shame.
Hamlet, in William Shakespeare’s haMLet, feels
guilty that he cannot immediately avenge his father’s
death. He says,
Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my
cause,
And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whose property and most dear life
A damn’d defeat was made. (2.2.566–571)
He resolves to reveal Claudius’s guilt and kill him,
thus ending his own guilt, repaying his father as it
were. In Edith Wharton’s ethan FroMe, Ethan
spends his entire life unable to escape his loveless
marriage. He feels guilty, first because he does not
love Zeena and then because he has fallen in love
with Mattie. He then spends his life punishing
himself by staying married to Zeena. Ironically,
when he tries to end his life (and Mattie’s) things go
horribly wrong and he is further doomed, trapped as
an invalid being taken care of by Zeena, consumed
by guilt over what has happened both to her and to
Mattie.
Ethan ends his life unable to restore the balance
created by his transgressions in love. Sethe, in Toni
Morrison’s beLoved, is also unable to restore the
balance. She murdered her child to keep her from
slavery, and her guilt haunts her, literally, in the
form of Beloved. Sethe tries to assuage this guilt by
showering Beloved with attention, but her grow-
ing obsession with this manifestation of her dead
daughter threatens to kill her. The horrors of slavery
have wrought crimes so great no balance can be
restored. The community comes together to exor-
cise the ghost and help Sethe to move on.
The destructive behavior that Sethe exhibits
is common for those suffering from guilt feelings.
According to the psychologist E. Mark Stern, guilt
that is long-lasting and preoccupying can inter-
fere with our cognition and promote additional
self-destructive behaviors. Stern demonstrates that
this behavior contributes to a vicious cycle, stating
that “the more a person blames himself or herself
for unacceptable behavior, the more unacceptable
behavior the person will perform” (260). The Scarlet
Letter’s Dimmesdale is an example of this kind of
self-destructive cycle. He tortures himself, carving
his own scarlet letter into his breast and wasting
away from the torments through which he puts
himself. In Charlotte Brontë’s Jane eyre, Mr.
Rochester, too, hides himself away in lonely despair
46 guilt