I had to read this book for English. It's horrible, hawthorne is busy doding in and out of the past and present that the reader gets overwhelmed. The book would be fifty pages long if he just stuck to the f*ing plot instead of side-tracking himself all of the time. He also tries wayyy to hard to be fancy. No one required him to be fancy, so why is he? Were he alive today, I'd slap him and make him wear the letter B for "Boring Bastard."
