In ‘Red,’ local author Annie Cardi reinterprets Hawthorne’s ‘The Scarlet Letter’ for Gen Z readers
In her new young-adult fiction novel “Red,” out Tuesday, Boston-area author Annie Cardi contends with reproductive rights and spirituality. The story is a retelling of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s classic tale of Puritan society, “The Scarlet Letter” — Cardi’s is set in a modern Presbyterian church community in Virginia.
When 16-year-old Tess Pine moves to Hawthorne (an intentional nod to the 19th-century New England novelist) to be nearer to her grandparents after her father’s death, she’s relieved to unexpectedly find solace in a faith community and choir. But she’s rejected and ostracized by that same community, after she is spotted leaving an abortion clinic by her peers at a pro-life protest.
Cardi, who holds an MFA from Emerson College, is also the author of “The Chance You Won’t Return.” We caught up with her over a Zoom call in advance of the book launch.
Q. How did you decide to adapt “The Scarlet Letter”?
A. I read “The Scarlet Letter” my senior year of high school. I was always mad that Hester Prynne was shamed by her community while Arthur Dimmesdale lived his normal life. Years later I saw the movie “Easy A,” which is fantastic. I wanted to recontextualize the story again for contemporary teen audiences — a new version of “A.”
Q. What did it mean to you to take “The Scarlet Letter” to a new place? A. Abortion was the first meaning of the “A.” And then, in “Red,” like in Prynne’s story, the “A” is reframed from “abortion” to “abuse,” through following Tess. I was thinking about abuse of power, about teens’ experiences in so many settings, from religious settings to sports teams.
Q. How did you decide the setting and location that would allow for this story to be told?
A. Initially, the setting was a small town in Tennessee. With the overturn of Roe v. Wade, one of the things we were concerned about were trigger laws implemented around reproductive care. I shifted it to central Virginia — a small town, kind of Southern setting, but not too far from larger cities where you could obtain care.
Q. I liked how balanced the story was when it came to Tess navigating her relationships with the church community — it wasn’t black and white, or her necessarily leaving her faith forever.
A. I find myself drawn to conversations of morality and ethics — what do we owe to each other and our communities? I am also put off by the damage that religious institutions have done. That said, I enjoy when people don’t just want to leave an institution, they want to make change, and to make things better, where they can.
Q. It felt poignant that Tess continued to pray, in her own style.
A. I was brought up Catholic and would find myself praying in the “Are You There? God, it’s Me, Margaret,” kind of way — a personal conversation. I remember seeing a statistic from the Pew Research Center, something like 80 percent of people believe in a higher power. And that’s not represented in a lot of YA fiction. I wanted a teen who connects to that, not in the style of Christian fiction, but that feels drawn to a higher power in a more nuanced way.
Q. And for her, singing and artistic expression, in particular, played such a multifaceted role.
A. I think music is such a big part of religious experiences. It can be a way that people express their faith in an emotionally accessible way — it can be hard to put feelings around faith into words. Music is something that Tess has natural talent for, but also is, initially, a way for her to connect to faith. Then later, a way for her to find her own voice and feel empowered.
Q. Do you have fears around how people might receive this, or hopes that this could be a bridging book?
A. I hope that it’s a bridging book. I’ve seen people seem to respond well to its nuance. But I think there are still a lot of people who will see the cover copy and decide, “This book is about abortion. This is awful. We should not be giving that to teens.” So far I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the way many have responded to seeing support of faith, as well as support of reproductive rights.
Q. I appreciated how the character of the grandmother, who had seemed so judgmental toward Tess, evolved — that added a textural layer that I wasn’t expecting.
A. With her, even with people who respond in an aggressive manner, I wanted to highlight that you never know what someone has gone through. Sometimes it’s from their own trauma and how they learned to deal with it. It’s not an excuse for the behavior, but it might be a reason behind it — and there can be potential for them to feel empathy and connect.
‘I find myself drawn to conversations of morality and ethics — what do we owe to each other and our communities?’
Q. Could you speak more about working in those gray areas, finding redemptive aspects amid complicated or oppressive things happening within structures?
A. I think having any kind of hierarchical structure opens itself up to abuses of power, which is dangerous. But at the same time, that’s the human element of it. In communities that have a real imbalance of power, you’re opening yourself up to so many abuses. I think for any community to work, you have to be vigilant about that, to have checks and balances.
Q. Yes, and so often those checks and balances aren’t in place.
A. It’s two sides of the same coin — community is so necessary to connect and to support each other, but you have to constantly evaluate what is happening and work to support your members, whether to prevent abuse or to make sure that people’s voices are heard.
Q. It was chilling to read how Alden, the charismatic character who was grooming these teen girls, was presented as benign at first — especially from Tess’ perspective.
A. I reflected on my experiences and my friend’s experiences when we were younger, encountering people who were maybe in their twenties, not significantly older, but older than was at all appropriate. At the time you think, “Oh, I’m very mature, this person is complimenting me and treating me like a peer.” They don’t seem like a danger.
Q. What do you hope readers take away from this story in the aftermath of Roe v. Wade?
A. That there’s still hope. Immediately after, there was so much grief, anger, and hopelessness at what changed for us as people who could get pregnant, and the lack of safe and accessible care. But there are many groups who are dedicated to fighting, whether legally or providing resources for people to access care. I wanted Tess and her community to be an example.