A classic tale of tolerance and childhood
In light of this book's anniversary, and the fact that I've been too busy reading to post anything yet, here's a little ditty about something I've held in deep admiration for the past 10 years.
This won't be a typical review, as this book has been given plenty of attention and praise - especially recently. Rather, I'll just pick out the things that have affected me most strongly and have stayed with me.
I first read this book as a freshman in high school. Although I associate it with a terrible experience with a socratic seminar (note to teachers of students 14 and under: spare them the humiliation) and my first brush with all-nighters, To Kill A Mockingbird is brilliant enough to transcend those bad memories and went on to become dear to me. There is much to love about the book, namely the strong characters of Atticus Finch, Calpurnia, the excitable Dill, the haunting figure of Mayella Ewell, and the ever-looming but rarely-seen Boo Radley. Personally, I think Scout is a great character and the story of her growth and how she gains an understanding of the world around her is endlessly relatable.
The message about treating those different than us with respect and dignity is at once simple and complex enough to be explored through many avenues. Although the issue of racism dominates the book, blacks are not the only people who are shown as being shunned by society: in addition, we see Boo, the white trash Ewell family, and Mr. Raymond the town "drunk" (all white people) who in one way or another do not fit in and are ignored or silenced in some way. When Calpurnia takes Jem and Scout to her all-black congregation, she gets a scolding from a woman who is offended at Calpurnia bringing "white chillun to nigger church." Scout's idealistic teacher even bars her from reading with Atticus outside of the classroom because it supposedly interferes with the offical cirriculum. Differences, whether good or bad or just neutral, have the incredible power to scare people and in turn creating a hostile environment for those who do not fit the norm. Ironically, the Finches are a family that fits in remarkably well and therefore are in a position to help those that live on the outskirts of society. Atticus never lets a chance to teach tolerance and understanding to his children, or to actively attempt to change things for the better.
Hope is a constant force, and this book is full of it, which speaks in part to its own endurance as a classic.