“It
was times like these when I thought my father, who hated guns and had
never been to any wars, was the bravest man who ever lived.” –Scout
Finch
I chose to start with To Kill A Mockingbird
because it is, in my opinion, the best novel ever written. I know that
many people would argue this point, and I myself may change my opinion
one day. That’s everyone’s prerogative. In fact, I only recently
jumped on the Mockingbird bandwagon, moving my allegiance from The Great Gatsby to Harper Lee’s masterpiece. While Gatsby will always have a special place in my heart, Mockingbird has completely moved me beyond words.
So,
if I have been moved beyond words, it is going to be exceedingly hard
to write about this novel. I will start at the beginning of my personal
Mockingbird experience and go from there. Please note, there
will be spoilers in this blog; given the nature of the beast, it would
be kind of hard to not include spoilers.
Like so many other high schoolers, I was forced to read Mockingbird.
I believe this novel was assigned during my freshman year, although I
am not 100% sure about that. Forgive me, it’s been a while. Anyway, I
read the book and thought it was alright. Nothing spectacular. It was a
courtroom novel which mildly interested me. We discussed the racial
implications of the novel, talked about the dynamics between the
characters, picked apart Scout’s role as narrator, and so on. We capped
this all off by watching the movie, which I thought was—like the
novel—just alright. So, given my very lackluster impression of the
novel to begin with, why have I suddenly proclaimed the novel to be the
best ever written? The answer is a matter of living.
A few years ago, I found a copy of Mockingbird
at Goodwill. I thought to myself, “Well, that book
was alright. It’s a classic. I guess it’s worth a quarter.” I bought
the paperback, which looked exactly like the copy I had read in high
school, and promptly tucked it away in my vast book collection. At that
point in time, I had no desire to read the novel again.
However,
this summer I have been working around my house to set up a library of
sorts. My house is overrun with books, and I am trying to rectify the
situation. While moving various books from place to place, I started
picking out some I wanted to read again. Alas, I will probably never
get the library done because I keep stopping to read the books! Anyway,
I found Mockingbird and added it to the “read again” pile on a whim. When I finally cracked the book open, I was hooked instantly.
Lee’s
prose is fantastic. Her voice is unique and clear, a true Southern
voice speaking universal themes. While the novel most certainly touches
on racial issues, the tag line on the cover has it right. The novel is
about growing up and human dignity, two things we did not discuss in
high school. Looking back, I think that we couldn’t discuss those
topics because we had not lived enough to understand them. However,
understanding those two key elements is really what makes the novel so
spectacular.
The
reader joins the narrator, Jean Louise “Scout” Finch, on this journey
into adulthood. We live this time in her life with her, as her world is
changing forever. What I really love about Lee’s use of Scout as the
narrator is the fact that Scout is so visual in her descriptions. The
narration is actually two-fold because Scout is telling the story years
after it has transpired, but is still able to capture her thoughts and
emotions as a six-year-old girl. Lee’s ability to use this type of
narration really sets the novel apart from so many other novels which
touch on similar themes.
The theme of human dignity is what I really want to focus on in this blog. At the core of Mockingbird
is the underlying idea that all humans are equal. However, while
Atticus Finch proclaims that the court of law should be the great
equalizer, we learn that what we hope for and what is true are often two
very different things. When Jem and Scout view the unfolding courtroom
drama of Atticus defending Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a
white woman, they have little doubt that Atticus has won his case.
They are seeing things through the eyes of children, or perhaps, more
accurately, with the hearts of children. Children are open and
accepting of everyone; only when we grow older and pick up on the ideas
of social stratification and class systems do we develop prejudice.
Jem, who is older, has a visceral reaction to his childhood dreams and
ideas being shattered; the guilty verdict forces him to face the reality
that not everyone understands or acknowledges the basic rights of other
human beings. Jem’s tears and cries of “It ain’t right” should be the
reaction of everyone who witnesses social injustice. However, as
Atticus says of Jem, dealing with these emotions can be “a little too
strong” for us. Rather than sticking ourselves out on an emotional
limb, we’d rather look the other way. We take the easy way out. We put
ourselves above others. We are wrong.
Poor
Tom Robinson’s attempted escape, ending in his death, was really
inevitable. While Jem and Scout were young and hoped for the best, Tom
had lived his whole life feeling the sting of social injustice. He knew
what was coming, and felt he had no other option but to run. Even
though Atticus believed there was a good chance of winning Tom’s freedom
on appeal, Tom himself had given up hope. He would rather die on his
own terms than on someone else’s. For this reason, his death mirrors
the earlier death of Mrs. Henry Lafayette Dubose. Jem and Scout, as
punishment for Jem’s destruction of Mrs. Dubose’s flowers, are sentenced
to reading to the old woman. Only after she dies does Atticus reveal
that she was a morphine addict. She wanted to die a free woman, on her
own terms, and used the time with Jem and Scout to take her mind off the
morphine. By going longer and longer periods without the drug, she was
able to kick the habit before she died. Atticus explains:
“I
wanted you to see something about her—I wanted you to see what real
courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun
in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you
begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win,
but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her.
According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She
was the bravest person I ever knew.”
Atticus’s
words about Mrs. Dubose ring true for most of the characters in the
novel, from Tom to Boo Radley to Atticus himself. Bravery comes in many
forms in this novel, but none so strange as the character of Boo
Radley.
How
exactly does this reclusive figure fit into the story? He is heavily
mentioned at the beginning, as the children try to draw him out of the
house, but then he really is overlooked while the courtroom battle
rages. He figures heavily into the final events of the novel, and then
disappears for good. Boo represents the innocent part of all of us,
damaged by the cruelty of the world (represented by Boo’s father). He
is inherently good, and tries to befriend Jem and Scout despite their
constant attempts to prod him out of his house. His little gifts serve
as reminders of human goodness. At the end of the novel, Boo kills Bob
Ewell to save Jem and Scout; it is decided to cover up Boo’s actions so
as not to bring him unwanted attention. As Scout concludes “Well, it’d
be sort of like shootin’ a mockingbird, wouldn’t it?” Yes, Scout, it
would be very much like shooting a mockingbird, a bird that lives to
make music. Boo is content to stay in his house because the world is a
cruel place. His all-consuming kindness would not stand a chance on the
outside. However, his friendship is a precious gift that neither Scout
nor Jem will ever forget.
While
many may argue with me on this point, I believe that this novel is the
story of Atticus. Even though Scout serves as the narrator, Atticus is
the central figure who ties everything together. Scout’s love for her
father certainly plays a large role in making him so prominent, but the
actions of the novel all revolve around Atticus’s desire to do good in
his community. He, like Mrs. Dubose, appears to be defeated before he
even begins defending Tom Robinson. However, Atticus continually states
that he has no choice but to defend Tom or he could never expect his
children to respect him again. In taking a stand for what he believes
is right, Atticus puts himself in direct opposition to most of the
town. In the scene when Atticus loses the case, he does not exit the
courtroom via his normal route. He makes it a point to exit under the
“blacks only” balcony, driving home his conviction that Tom has not been
treated fairly. I will not lie; when I read “the Negroes were getting
to their feet” and Reverend Sykes’s saying “Miss Jean Louise, stand up.
Your father’s passin’,” I wept. This scene, more than any other,
drives home the point which Atticus is trying to make. While many
people who would condemn Tom Robinson have shunned Atticus for his
actions, those who believe in Tom’s innocence and know that Atticus is
doing the right thing still respect him. This is the legacy Atticus is
leaving for Jem and Scout.
While
Atticus is certainly brave and good, he is not entirely so, like Boo
Radley. Atticus makes a conscious choice to be good, and I love the
scene where Jem and Scout realize this. I cannot discuss this scene
without mentioning the movie version of Mockingbird, starring Gregory Peck. I have to agree with Harper Lee (pictured at left with Gregory Peck) in saying that this movie is probably the best adaptation of a novel ever. For me, Gregory Peck is
Atticus Finch, and while the courtroom scenes are marvelous, the rabid
dog scene is Peck’s finest moment (for me, at least). In this scene,
both in the novel and the movie, Jem and Scout see their father as a
human being for the first time. They see he is capable of cruel actions
(even though shooting a rabid dog is more of a service), but that he
chooses not to be cruel on a daily basis. As Miss Maudie explains, “he
put his gun down when he realized that God had given him an unfair
advantage over most living things.”
Atticus
himself makes no comment about his marksmanship; even when Heck Tate
claims that something like that never leaves you, Atticus remains
silent. While Heck is referring to marksmanship, Atticus knows that
evil is what really never leaves a person. One must learn to minimize
the evil and fully embrace the good. Jem picks up on this lesson, and
urges Scout to not tell anyone of Atticus’s abilities with a shotgun,
stating that “If he was proud of it, he’da told us.” From that point
on, Jem is determined to be a gentleman, like Atticus. We can only hope
that we all live up to the example of Atticus Finch.
