In the long list of books I never read in high school, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird is probably the one I most always meant to read. It’s not that I didn’t read it because I was lazy, it just wasn’t ever assigned and there’s something about “school classics” that causes kids to not read them unless forced to do so.
I guess it’s because if a book is deemed acceptable by teachers, students assume a lack of substantial violence, substantive nudity, substandard language, and substance abuse.
Invariably, many of us who stuck with trashy sci-fi novels when given the choice, grow into adults who eventually pick up and read the few “school classics” that weren’t assigned (To Kill a Mockingbird, A Separate Peace, Fahrenheit 451, etc) and yet somehow remembered. As an adult, it’s easy to see why so many teachers assign these books, and I always wish I’d read them when I was younger, but then I wouldn’t have read the other “school classics” that I was assigned to read.
Can’t read ’em all, I suppose, but dammit, I’m gonna try!
So I finally read To Kill a Mockingbird so that I could finish teaching it to a group of students who had already started it with another teacher. Couldn’t put it down. I knew, generally, what it was about, and I had seen the movie years ago, but the book really struck me.
I wasn’t prepared for the humor underlying Scout’s dry observations of both life in a southern town and her own family. She’s a great narrator, and Harper Lee does a nice job letting the story of a racially-charged trial play out from the point-of-view of someone who is barely old enough to understand it.
In many ways the book is less about racial injustice and more about the process of growing up in a world that is less certain than it seemed when the most important things in life were playing in the yard with friends. Scout and her brother, Jem, come to see that the society that they live in is geared to favor white kids like themselves. It’s a world that she sees as grossly unfair as she comes to admire her father Atticus’s attempt to actually defend the black man who has been charged with raping a white woman. Of course, not even Atticus Finch can overcome the predjudices that exist in the hearts of the townsfolk, creating a dangerous situation for him and his family.
Growing up is a painful process for anyone, but especially difficult when one of your parents is someone who bucks the system. Atticus’s quiet courage and admonition to walk in someone else’s shoes before judging them is a powerful lesson for Scout or anyone who reads this book, which ultimately becomes a gentle reminder that people are not always as they seem.
I often wonder what I would have made of the “school classics” that I missed if I had read them when I was in high school. I suspect I would have enjoyed To Kill a Mockingbird, but perhaps not as much as I did last week, reading it with more than sixteen years of experience under my belt. But then most books are probably that way, generally getting better the older we get.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
[…] The Lost Book Club: To Kill a Mockingbird I actually read To Kill a Mockingbird earlier this year (post here) so I’m not rereading it, and yes, I know it was the movie not the book that was referenced in last week’s episode “The Cost of Living,” but either way, I thought I’d post my thoughts on how it intersects with Lost. […]
I think you’re making a very good point there