When you fly into Edinburgh, the usual route takes you round the eastern side of the city and out over the Firth of Forth with Fife to the right of you and the very distinctive features of the capital to the left. It's a view I never miss, spotting landmarks, trying to pinpoint home, watching the scenery as we descend.
Making that journey last week I was completely oblivious to my surroundings, never so much as glancing out of the window, because I was so engrossed in my book I couldn't lift my eyes from the page. I was at the end of To Kill a Mockingbird, and having read it several times before I knew what would happen, but I would not interrupt it, I would not miss a beat of the story for anything.
Yes, it is that good - every bit as wonderful as I remember: funny, poignant, serious, wise, straightforward, incredibly moving. If you haven't read it, I'd urge you to do so, and if you haven't read it for years, then re-visit it soon.
Set in Alabama in the 1930s, the story is told by young Scout Finch, surely one of the finest narrative voices in literature. She lives with her older brother Jem and their lawyer father Atticus in the small town of Maycomb where things are mostly quite sleepy, and together with their friend Dill (said to be based on the author's childhood friend Truman Capote) they get into scrapes, some of which revolve around their mysterious, reclusive neighbour Boo Radley, a man they've never seen but one who is the subject of much local gossip and legend. Life in Maycomb goes on just so until a black man, Tom Robinson, is accused of raping a white woman, and Atticus undertakes Tom's defence.
In a predominantly closed-minded, inherently racist society where class divisions create a strict hierarchy, Atticus' advocacy is, for many, a shocking thing and a deeply divisive act which will put his whole family in danger. He's a courageous man, right-thinking, wise and commanding deserved respect. He's a fine father, too, a model of tolerance, dignity and measured response. Never would Atticus refuse a case such as Tom's, and as his children watch him at work so they come to understand why he has taken on a seemingly impossible task.
This book - which presents a big issue on a very small stage - does so more powerfully than any politician or campaigner could do. It's no wonder that when asked why she had published nothing else, Harper Lee stated that in this one work she had said all she had to say. She could not have said it more eloquently.
You have tempted me to read again. Thank you x
Posted by: Sarah Salway | 26 July 2010 at 03:21 PM
I haven't read this for donkey's years and now wish I could!
Posted by: Harriet | 26 July 2010 at 04:34 PM
I re-read TKAM last week. I thought I remembered every last nuance of the plot but discovered I had forgotten that powerful moment when Scout drops her tomboy ways to help her aunt graciously serve tea during a time of crisis.
Like you, Karen, I was totally engrossed in the story, all the while knowing what was going to happen. The recounting of the long walk home from the high school was just as harrowing as the first time I read it.
Here's what I wrote about TKAM on my book blog: http://juliesbookshelf.blogspot.com/2010/07/another-milestone.html
Posted by: Julie Fredericksen | 26 July 2010 at 05:00 PM
I have just had to replace my original copy of TKAM dating back to the 70's because it was in imminent danger of falling apart having been passed around my family for years.
Your post has made me want to give the new copy its inaugural reading as soon as possible. Thank you.
Posted by: LizF | 27 July 2010 at 10:37 AM
Isn't it good? I thought the father/daughter relationship was drawn so beautifully - for me, that is the central piece of the novel. Before I read it, I thought it was all about the trial - but that really forms quite a small part in a portrait of their life. (And proves that lawyers can be nice ;-))
Posted by: Simon T | 27 July 2010 at 10:48 AM