Thanks from a Grateful Reader
Maycomb was an old town, but it was a tired old town when I first knew it. In rainy weather the streets turned to red slop; grass grew on the sidewalks, the courthouse sagged in the square.
I first came across To Kill a Mockingbird in Mrs. Curley's eighth grade English class in 1981. It was fall and Chapter 10, the mad dog chapter, was included in our English textbook. There was an illustration, too, of Atticus which made him look like a cross between Max Van Sydow and Yeats if I remember correctly. I was charmed by the chapter and must have told my mother about it for a few nights later she pointed out that the movie of the book was playing on the late show and she said she'd let me stay up to watch it with her as a special treat. My mom was not a reader but loved movies. She was a night owl too and every night we kids fell asleep to the muted sounds of commercial television drifting up the stairs.
Like most people I love the movie but I don't remember that being my first reaction. Having only read the one chapter I had no idea about the legal battle that forms the framework of the story and so was completely shocked no, appalled by Tom Robinson's fate.
(SPOILER ALERT. Please, if you don't know the story do yourself a favor, stop here and instead of reading this blog go read the masterwork that inspired it.)
He didn't do it! How could they find him guilty when he didn't do it? (The whole reason why Mr. Ewell would need a scapegoat kinda went over my head. What can I say? 1981 was a different time.) 14 year olds are very hung up on fairness, as you may remember. It wasn't till I read the book again, repeatedly, as an adult that it became more to me than just the brightest cherished memory of a motherless daughter.
What many don't remember is how unsentimental and laugh out loud funny the book is. The movie that Horton Foote wrote, though lifting much dialogue absolutely intact, is considerably sweeter than its source. Scout in the book is one of the most clear eyed, sharp tongued protaganists in all of modern literature. Doubt me? Try listening to the audio book as narrated by actress Sissy Spacek.
"See what you've done?" he said. "Hasn't snowed in Maycomb since Appomattox. It's bad children like you makes the seasons change."
I wondered if Mr. Avery knew how hopefully we had watched last summer for him to repeat his performance, and reflected that if this was our reward, there was something to be said for sin. I did not wonder where Mr. Avery gathered his meteorological statistics: they came straight from the Rosetta Stone.
Few pieces of art hold up over time. To last a piece must continue to offer something new with each visit. After 28 years-years of being called Boo myself, the To Kill a Mockingbird mousepad, the Maycomb Neighborhoodie, reserving the name Harper in multiple families in case a had a daughter of my own-I still haven't reached the bottom of this book. And I hope I never will.
So Happy Anniversary Nelle Harper Lee-50 years after its publication your book still rocks my world.
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