Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird (2 page)

Themes and imagery in the novel receive considerable attention as well. Michael J. Meyer presents a detailed and artfully woven exploration of the images of fear and darkness that permeate the novel and leads readers to a deeper understanding of the ways in which the text demonstrates that to overcome fears, whether they be childhood fears, fear of the unknown or differences, or fear of the dark—including “dark” people of color—one must see beneath the protective “masks” the characters wear and see beyond the surface of such things as skin color. Carl F. Miller breaks new ground in his consideration of the sporting culture of the South and provides a heretofore unexamined look at the way in which Lee uses sports to establish the identities of some of the characters. Moreover, his consideration of the balance between progress and tradition in sports reflects the tension between tradition and progress that is present in Maycomb society. Other significant attention to themes and imagery in the novel is offered by Jochem Riesthuis, who discusses three episodes that contribute to Scout's development and that seem to form touchstones for the development of themes and symbols within the novel. Finally, in a particularly insightful discussion, Robert C. Evans presents a very close reading of the text and by illuminating the strong parallels that exist between Boo Radley and Bob Ewell, as well as other characters, maintains that the novel achieves its cohesion and aesthetic plan from these paired characters. The collection is rounded out by contributions from Alec Gilmore and from Derek Blair and Cecilia Donohue.

In “To Catch a Mockingbird,” Cathy Newman reports that each year the Heritage Museums of Harper Lee's native Monroe County, Alabama, produce a two-act dramatic adaptation of the novel, enacted by local people, and that this performance, in addition to the Old Monroe County courtroom where the trial was filmed, attracts upwards of thirty thousand visitors who seek a connection with Harper Lee and
To Kill a Mockingbird
. (Interestingly enough, Harper Lee herself has never seen the play.) Without a doubt, just like the knothole that Boo fills with treasured objects intended to pique the interest, curiosity, and amusement of Jem and Scout,
To Kill a Mockingbird
is full of an abundance of treasures intended for its readers. Perhaps Harper Lee, like Boo, gave the reader everything she had, and thereafter retreated back into the private quiet of her daily life as he did.

Finally, regardless of the reader's feelings or views of the book and despite the criticism and censorship it has faced,
To Kill a Mockingbird
has endured. It is hoped that the essays herein can act as intellectual keys and guidebooks to a novel that continues to leave such an indelible mark on the literature and ethos of the United States.

Works Cited

Lee, Harper.
To Kill a Mockingbird
. New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classic, 2006.

Newman, Cathy. “To Catch a Mockingbird.”
National Geographic
, January 2006, 114–122.

Shakespeare, William.
Othello
. Ed. Gerald Eades Bentley. Pelican Shakespeare Edition. New York and London: Penguin Books, 1970; 1986.

The most important things are the hardest to say because words diminish them.

—Stephen King,
On Writing

As a teacher of literature for over forty years and as a professor of American literature for the last twenty, I have been passionate about adding to my extensive library. My finished basement, in fact, boasts eight large bookcases that are completely filled with a very eclectic mix of volumes: the works gathered there range from Stephen King to John Steinbeck, from Michael Crichton to F. Scott Fitzgerald, from Garrison Keillor to Robert Penn Warren. Yet despite the number of volumes on the shelves, there are far fewer books that I actually “own,” that I claim as texts that are “part of me,” that have touched my soul and whose characters I identify with and know intimately. Such ownership on my part suggests that an author has somehow developed a very unique relationship with me, a reader.
To Kill a Mockingbird
by Harper Lee is one of those texts that has literally “come alive” for me; indeed, her fictional construct has taken root in my consciousness.

Charles Shields, in his biography of Lee entitled
I Am Scout
, draws his readers' attention to all the “real” elements in
Mockingbird
. Maycomb, Alabama, is based on Lee's hometown, Monroeville, located in the same state; Atticus Finch is based on Lee's father, Amasa Coleman Lee; Charles Baker Harris, also known as Dill, represents Truman Capote, Lee's childhood and lifelong friend; and, of course, Lee's child heroine, Jean Louise Finch, is grounded on the author herself. Moreover, real historical parallels are also evident in the story setting of the historical 1930s—an era notorious for Jim Crow laws and for racial injustices evident in such trials as that of the Scottsboro boys (1931), during which nine black men were convicted of raping a white woman and whose sentence of death for that crime parallels the fate of Lee's Tom Robinson. Mention is also made of economic deprivations during the Depression, FDR's first inaugural address, and the developing Nazi movement in Germany, highlighting the racial discrimination and persecution practiced by Hitler's Third Reich.

Yet what I wish to suggest in this preface to my collection of essays on
To Kill a Mockingbird
is that it is of little interest to readers if Harper Lee is Scout or if there is actual fact behind the fiction. What matters is that Lee has created a novel wherein her readers can create an empathetic connection between the written word and their lives, can find the ownership I spoke of previously. Thus, as I read Lee's words,
I
become Tom Robinson,
I
become
b
oo Radley,
I
become Scout,
I
become Atticus Finch,
I
become Bob Ewell. Though I may not be black or emotionally unsettled, am not a six-year-old child, am not a lawyer or an illiterate living on the fringe of society, I am Lee's characters because I genuinely identify pieces of myself in her work. That, of course, is a rare talent for an author to possess. To be able to transform readers into a gossipy old woman like Miss Stephanie Crawford, into a pretentious and overbearing aunt like Alexandra, into a repressive father like Mr. Radley, or into a nurturing black housekeeper like Calpurnia takes skill indeed.

Since the bulk of my work has primarily been as a Steinbeck scholar, I cannot resist relating an experience that occurred some twenty years ago at a 1989 conference held in Tuscaloosa at the University of Alabama and entitled “The Steinbeck Question.” As one of my first academic experiences as a recent PhD, the event remains an important one precisely because it helped me learn about the fragility of an author's reputation. I discovered somewhat belatedly that the conference had been originally motivated by an apparent decline in Steinbeck's reputation in tertiary academia. When I arrived at the first session, it was clear that several of the audience members were not convinced that Steinbeck's writing was still worth reading and, in fact, were quite hostile toward the author for what they perceived as inaccurate even derogatory portrayals of the “lower” class and the poor. The session on
Of Mice and Men
was one of the most controversial I attended as one member of the audience made it clear she felt the text was not only inferior literature but also morally objectionable. When several of the conference participants questioned this quintessential “Southern lady” about her feelings, she sheepishly admitted she had never actually read Steinbeck's novel. Her objections were based on rumor and hearsay rather than actual interaction with the text. When we asked her to return the following day—the conference was a three-day affair—after having actually read the brief 108-page novel, she agreed. As promised, she returned, but her opinion of
Mice
and Steinbeck had clearly changed. In fact, when we asked for her honest reaction after she had read Steinbeck's very concise masterpiece, she replied, “Why, them's my people!”

Harper Lee's characters are just as much my people. I find Lee's honesty amazing and engaging; I appreciate her ear for a child's voice; I consider her imagery complex and well planned; and I find myself returning to the text again and again to rediscover its nuances and to further plumb its plot and themes. While like Steinbeck, Lee has often been relegated to a middle school or high school curriculum,
To Kill a Mockingbird
is far more crafted than has previously been imagined, as the essays included here give evidence. Unfortunately, the novel continues to be seen as adolescent rather than adult fiction, and over the fifty years since its publication, only a few serious literary studies have given credence to the contention that it is a literary masterpiece—no matter that it is the author's only production—one that even mature readers can return to with pleasure, continuing to cull genuine insights into life's numerous lessons as well as to discover historical economic conflicts in the 1930s, to probe continuing discrimination against the African American race in America, and to learn about gentrified Southern customs and how upper-class value systems might differ from those of the lower class. Such historical emphases, however, do not make
To Kill a Mockingbird
a dated artifact, precisely because the prejudice against those who are “different” or who are “othered” remains quite evident even in 2010; such prejudice is reflected in the attempt of a dominant class to assert its influence and power over the less competent or the less powerful, in the persistent prejudicial treatment of gender differences, and in the treatment of differently abled individuals as inferior souls, practices that persist some fifty years after the novel's publication. Even today, readers are still called to “walk in another's shoes” in an attempt to understand those who seem to be “strange” and whom we fear out of ignorance rather than any concrete proof that they are threatening or “scary” individuals.

Hopefully, this volume will serve as encouragement for yet further in-depth study of Lee's American classic and recognition that it is hardly a child's novel, a fictional construct intended for preadolescents that features a naïve and immature narrator whose appeal is limited at best. Finely tuned by a woman whose literary talent never again reached the printed page,
To Kill a Mockingbird
remains a classic text. Despite complaints about its so-called moralistic preachiness, its “inconsistent” shift between and adult and prepubescent narrator, and its “over-sentimentalized” prose style, I believe the novel will continue to find still more readers who will “own” its characters, embrace its themes, and recommend it to another generation. I am convinced that decades from now, Scout, Jem, Dill, Atticus, Calpurnia, Tom, Boo, Mayella, and Bob will continue to live in the imagination of new readers who will own them, just as I do now.

There are so many people that have contributed to making this book a reality. Once again I need to thank David Kellam Brown for his cover illustration. His talent is incredible, and I am happy to have him participate once again in an important volume of literary criticism. Spot art was provided by Claire Walsh, and I owe her a debt of thanks as well. Without Maggie Seligman, who contributed the foreword and close readings of all the essays, I am sure that the accuracy of details and references would be less meticulous. As a person who has taught
Mockingbird
many times, Maggie was able to find numerous errors and to help contributors be confident of their accuracy both in quotes and in specific details they recorded from Lee's plotline. I am grateful for her feedback and for her willingness to spend extra time in writing the foreword to this collection. To my production editor at Scarecrow Press, Jayme Bartles Reed, I once again offer gratitude. Her sharp proofreading skills and clear editing made this second book for Scarecrow much easier than the first. To the contributors, with their various skills, I send my warm congratulations for a job well done. Deadlines were met, revisions were prompt, and the responses to suggested changes were warm and friendly. That makes an editor's job pleasant indeed. On this fiftieth anniversary of Lee's novel, I believe all readers should pause to reassess the complexity and greatness of this novel. While it is true that more has been written about
Mockingbird
in law reviews than in literary criticism, I hope this volume will mark a change in that pattern, and the opinion that
Mockingbird
is merely a children's book will become a critical assessment of the past and one that will not resurface in the future.

In order to facilitate easy location of the quotes from
To Kill a Mockingbird
, I have changed all references to the novel to a standard edition: Harper Lee,
To Kill a Mockingbird
(New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2006). Please consult this version for all quotes. The title
To Kill a Mockingbird
is shortened to
TKAM
in text citations.