Author’s note: For the
past two days I’ve been reading Go Set a
Watchman by Harper Lee. I am an addict of novel reading and dive in always
for the pleasure of living lives different (often drastically) from mine, and
for the joy that comes with recognizing our sameness. It was no different with
this book; my agenda and intention was clear: to have fun. Despite what I may
reveal in the following review please know that I really, truly, and deeply did
have fun.
Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
I wonder if this book was manifested by our need for it.
The story of its discovery and publication is fraught with
controversy and distrust, bringing both fear and hope to fans of Harper Lee and
her, until now, one published novel To
Kill a Mockingbird. Making a mess of the neat and tidy cozy perfection Harper
Lee had introduced to the world with the pairing of curious, indelicate, barefoot Scout
and her quiet, strong, kind, brave gentleman father, Atticus.
In Go Set a Watchman
we are introduced to Jean Louise Finch, the once upon a time six year old
Scout, on her fifth annual visit from her adult life in New York to fictional
Maycomb, Alabama, her childhood home.
The visit finds Jean Louise, and me as a reader, on the edge
of a new kind of independence; visions of the playful past, the painful past, and
the presumed past grab hold and mess with our ideas of where we come from and
who made us. Visions of potential futures fail to excite or fit us. Jean Louise
is courted by a lifetime love, surrounded by family who “gets” and celebrates
her, yet she’s at a loss to know herself independent of who they are. Especially
her father, Atticus.
The country, too, is in the midst of fighting for a new kind
of independence, a new kind of knowing itself. And for the first part of the
book I found nothing but nostalgic joy and empathy for the woman who is trying
to discover herself as a woman, amidst change and political turmoil.
But as I came to the part of the book I had been excitedly
anticipating, having read warnings and mixed feelings on this supposedly new Atticus, this racist
not-the-hero we fell in love with from To
Kill a Mockingbird Atticus, I was sent reeling into a similar past of my
own. I had been confidently prepared to go along for the ride of the disappointing
discovery and empowering understanding that comes with shedding childish
notions of right and wrong, good people and bad people. But I hadn’t been
prepared to feel and remember it.
Jean Louise secretly observes Atticus--the man who raised her and
gave her every reason to know herself as right and good-- at a meeting surrounded by men advocating for the opposite of everything she believed he believed, and
therefore she believed. The Citizens' Council is made up of almost all of Maycomb's prominent men speaking about the need for segregation, the
dangers of the NAACP (National
Association for the Advancement of Colored People), the inability of the Negro to vote in the best interest of
the country, all things she was convinced he was morally opposed to. The group of men include not only Atticus but also her lifelong
beau.
As Jean Louise felt herself die, I was transported back to
my own past where I, too, was left lost and broken and completely alone. When
my step-dad, the man who loved my mother and gave me every reason
to know I was safe, molested me I was tossed into turmoil and cut off from everyone I loved
and everything my experiences had told me to believe.
I had to put the book down, I had to breathe slowly and
remember the chaotic beauty and messy important lessons we had been nearly forced to
learn. There are those who choose not to learn, but we did, and I chose to put my faith in Jean Louise to find similar answers.
Picking up the novel again I was thrown into her world, one
of the privilege that comes with being the white daughter of a lawyer,
especially of Atticus Finch, but of disability too. Being color blind her whole
life had always made Scout different from her peers, but like with most
invisible disabilities the difference was small at first. Quirky and strange,
but acceptable. As Scout grew the differences amounted to misunderstandings and
made up morals. Jean Louise had grown into a young woman who had learned it all
wrong and now had to make sense of everyone in her life being a lie. Including
herself.
I held on tight while she bounced from family member to
family member searching for what she was missing, seeking an explanation for
her difference. I thought of so many people I love who, via their differences
and disabilities, have been able to teach me truths I may have not otherwise
known, and I applauded her and begged her to see her value. To see herself.
I felt angry, uncertain, thoughtful, and angry again. My
dear readers, there is no way to read this book without feeling angry. With so
many clashing ideologies and strong morals, there is no one who will be left
out!
It would have been easier to put the book down.
It would have been easier for Jean Louise to give herself over to the prejudice-pretending-to-be-polite interests of Maycomb.
No, it wouldn’t have. Not in the long run.
So we ventured on, Jean Louise and I.
With the support and push of her loved ones, Scout let go. With
uncertainty and a naked new freedom Jean Louise forced herself into her own
form of individuality.
This is, I believe, what we must do as a society.
We must grow up a notch.
Scout was right to put her faith in Atticus. He was consistent and kind and offered his children freedom. He always had time for them and he was a strong, honest, anchor.
Scout was right to put her faith in Atticus. He was consistent and kind and offered his children freedom. He always had time for them and he was a strong, honest, anchor.
Like Scout, I was right to put my faith in my step-father.
It gave me years of comfort and the joy of watching my mom be loved. My sister and
I felt confident and safe.
Like Scout, as fans of To
Kill a Mockingbird we were right to put the hero, Atticus, on a pedestal. It
grew us comfortably in the right direction.
But we must be Jean Louise now. We must open our eyes and
see how we’ve been fooling ourselves while we’ve been fooled. We must see that our painful past is playing with us, teasing us into thinking things like: “We”
gave “them” what “they” said “they” wanted and look what “they” do.
Like Jean
Louise we must hurt and fear and let go of the beliefs we thought were our own
and with uncertainty stand naked inventing a new freedom to think differently and form
our own inclusive individuality.
This is the messy part.
But it’s already messy, isn’t it?
So, like Go Set a
Watchman, let’s do it now. Let’s not wait until we’re perfectly edited and
let's not pay too much attention to our controversial and unknowable backstory.
I recommend reading both Go
Set a Watchman and To Kill a
Mockingbird, in any order.
The author, Harper Lee, is a woman both before and
completely of her time.
