Read full post at Scholars & Rogues. Excerpt:July 11 is the 46th anniversary of the publication of Harper Lee's iconic novel about Southern race relations,
To Kill a Mockingbird.
This particular anniversary seems a bittersweet one, since the Jena 6 case suggests the central issue that Lee's novel explores - the inability of Southern whites to see blacks as fellow Americans with equal rights - hasn't changed:
Why reasonable people go stark raving mad when anything involving a Negro comes up, is something I don't pretend to understand. - Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird
The novel is something of a roman a clef, with fans, critics, and scholars having pored over Harper Lee's life to look for the real life counterparts to the novel's characters. Everyone knows that Scout Finch is based upon Harper Lee herself, that Dill is based upon Lee's cousin, writer Truman Capote, and that Atticus Finch, Scout's father and the "hero" of the book, is based on Lee's father Amasa, an Alabama attorney.
The novel's scenes of contrasting cultures - the threatening white lynch mob defused by Scout's chat with the father of a school mate among the lynchers, the warm visit by the Finch children at their black maid Calpurnia's church - paint a picture of two separate realities overlapping lovingly at some moments, colliding viciously at other moments. Lee's details evoke a South - with its mannerliness, its bigotry, its affectation of honor and its indifference to the suffering of part of its citizens - that everyone from Wilbur J. Cash to Bill Clinton has tried to suggest will disappear/is disappearing/has disappeared. To Kill a Mockingbird may be Harper Lee's only novel, but it is a masterwork.
But then we have Jena, Louisiana...