The style of the book is wordy and ornate. Hawthorne's story is packed with figurative language, especially complex similes. For example, in Chapter 9, Hawthorne describes Phoebe's effect on the House of the Seven Gables:
[Phoebe's] spirit resembled, in its potency, a minute quantity of attar of rose in one of Hepzibah’s huge, iron-bound trunks, diffusing its fragrance through the various articles of linen and wrought lace, kerchiefs, caps, stockings, folded dresses, gloves, and whatever else was treasured there. As every article in the great trunk was the sweeter for the rose scent, so did all the thoughts and emotions of Hepzibah and Clifford, somber as they might seem, acquire a subtle attribute of happiness from Phoebe’s intermixture with them.
Hawthorne does not simply say that Phoebe brightens up the atmosphere. Instead, he goes on at length comparing Phoebe to a bit of perfume in one of Hepzibah's trunks full of clothing. The complexity and length of the simile helps the reader linger over the idea Hawthorne is trying to convey, and it amplifies the meaning. The passage asks the reader to imagine the perfume soaking into "linen and wrought lace, kerchiefs, caps, stockings, folded dresses, gloves, and whatever else was treasured" in Hepzibah's trunk. This list of intimate items arrests the reader's attention on each item and even on each part of Hepzibah's body it is meant to adorn. It invites the reader to imagine smelling, for instance, the gloves and stockings Hepzibah wears on her hands and feet. Breaking into her trunk, even imaginatively via this simile, is an invasion of Hepzibah's privacy. She does not fight it off. Just as Phoebe manages to mix up her spirit with "all the thoughts and emotions of Hepzibah and Clifford," the reader too manages to pry open the vault in which Hepzibah has long kept herself locked, seeing the vulnerable woman inside. The simile thus implies another simile: Hepzibah herself is like her trunk and like the house that has long been closed to the outside world. She and the house alike are finally being aired out.
This is just one example of how Hawthorne's language invites rereading to capture further meaning. It is almost as though he thinks of his book as an optical illusion that looks different from different angles, or as an uncanny portrait that seems always to be staring at the viewer. As he states in his preface, he does not want the book to be easily interpreted. Figurative language and winding clauses are some of the ways he forces the reader to think long and hard about the book.
