A personal essay about reading, revelations and growing up (a little).
To Kill A Mockingbird was published in 1960 by Harper Lee. It is based on the infamous case of the Scottsboro boys. Lee borrowed characteristics from the little Southern town she grew up in to create the novel that was to become an American classic.
The story is told by a little girl named Scout Finch. Scout observes the racial attitudes of the people in her small town of Maycomb, Alabama, when a black man named Tom Robinson is accused of rape and put on trial. He is defended by Scout’s father Atticus Finch.
The subplot is the story of Boo Radley, the mysterious next-door neighbor. The title of the novel derives from a conversation Scout’s brother Jem has with her father in which Atticus tells Jem that it is a sin to kill a mockingbird- because they never cause any trouble, they are harmless.
******
I first read the book at the age of twelve. It was recommended to me by my Great Grandmother, just before my family moved to Georgia. The next time we were in a store, my mother told me to pick one thing that I wanted and she’d buy it. Of course, it was a book and this was that book.
This was not just me picking a book because I love books and I wanted it. Our house in North Carolina had been foreclosed upon and my father had only packed what furniture he could. I knew he had to leave some stuff behind. I didn’t know what. I didn’t know how many books I had left, I didn’t know where we would end up or whether we’d get to the library soon or when we’d have money to buy another book.
We stayed nine months in hotels before we were able to afford a home. In that time, I had only three books with me. I stretched them out, reading as slowly as I could, one word at a time, letting each word sink into my heart like stones into a pond.
This is the way that castaways ration food.
******
If some nameless monster came for my books in the middle of the night (I dream about this and wake up badly shaken), this is one of the ones it would have to pry from my cold, dead fingers. Before I read it, I had been told of the evils of prejudice and heard the lip service people pay to tolerance and harmony.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!