Question
"Book Review: 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee" by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Adapted by Newsela Staff
It would take many years for me to understand why Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" is considered an important novel. When I first read it at 11, I was simply absorbed by the way it evoked the mysteries of childhood, of treasures discovered in trees and games played with a
summer friend. I loved that the narrator was a girl named Scout, which isn't a very girly name. I loved her unsentimental nature, her sharp tongue and her humor.
She reminded me of the imagined version of myself I liked best. Her older brother Jem was very much like my brother Okey. Her small Southern American town of Macomb, Alabama, was similar to my town, Nsukka in eastern Nigeria. It was a place of open doors, where people had petty loyalties and gossiped about the one strange family in town. But Macomb was also much less sophisticated than Nsukka, in a way that was fascinating, with little boys who did not bathe for weeks and people who sealed deals by spitting into their palms and shaking hands.
The Second Part Represents A Loss Of Innocence
I was taken by how incredibly funny the novel was. Some scenes made me laugh out loud, such as when Scout's teacher at school is horrified to discover that her student can read. At 11, I read the novel with great pleasure. Or rather I read the first part with great pleasure and mostly skipped the second part. Perhaps it was because I wasn't able to understand the social and political details or because I was unprepared for the loss of innocence that the second part represents. In this half of
the novel, Scout and her brother observe their father, Atticus Finch, as he defends a black man named Tom Robinson. Tom is accused of attacking a white woman, and Finch becomes his lawyer. The racism hinted at in the first part explodes in all its savagery, and the town becomes a cesspit.
Rereading the novel as an adult, I came to admire it for its clear-eyed description of American prejudice. Few modern American novels have the confidence to take on social issues in the way Harper Lee does. Much writing today about racism is cloaked in humor or in so much poetic language that it becomes vague. Lee refuses to hide behind literary effects. Her writing is so beautiful, so steady and clear, that she could have evaded confronting prejudice head-on, but she doesn't.
Lee Creates Complicated Characters
Nor does she create perfect characters — although Atticus Finch comes close. She complicates them all, so that while Scout is the lovable narrator whose family hates racism, we are not allowed to forget that she and her family benefit from being white. When their summer friend, Dill, is upset by the cruel way that the black man is treated in court, Scout is dismissive. "He's just a negro," she says. It does not occur to Scout to question her attitudes, just as it does not occur to her to question why black adults rise in the courtroom to give up their seats to little white children. The most moving line in the novel, for me, is spoken by the accused black man Tom. When someone asks why he would be scared if he was innocent, Tom responds that if they were a black man, they'd be scared, too. That simple statement says all the reader needs to know about the larger system that Lee questions. In Macomb, being black is considered evidence of guilt.
That other great writer of the American South, William Faulkner, writes of racism as though it were something unavoidable. Lee, on the other hand, writes about racism in a way that questions its very foundation. She does so with confidence and skill that always carries the reader along. Her children characters may be politically smart, but they are still children, rather than adults in little bodies. Her anger is present, but the issues are always surrounded by a wonderful humanity.
She Writes About Class Differences Too
While racism might be America's gravest sin, class discrimination comes a close second. Macomb does not appear to have middle-class black people, or if it does, Scout does not meet them. But even within the white community, the class differences are glaring. The Ewells are racist, but they are also seen as "trash." They sign welfare checks and never bathe, and serve as a form of entertainment for the better-placed whites. The white woman who accuses a black man of attacking her is so unused to being spoken to courteously that she thinks she is being mocked. Lower-class children are clearly marked and the other children know them.
"Important Without Being Like Medicine"
Sometimes novels are considered important in the way medicine is: They taste terrible and are difficult to swallow, but are still good for you. The best novels are those that are important without being like medicine. They have something to say and are intelligent but never forget to be entertaining and to have character and emotion at their center. Harper Lee's triumph is one of those.
It would take many years for me to understand why Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" is considered an important novel. When I first read it at 11, I was simply absorbed by the way it evoked the mysteries of childhood, of treasures discovered in trees and games played with a
summer friend. I loved that the narrator was a girl named Scout, which isn't a very girly name. I loved her unsentimental nature, her sharp tongue and her humor.
She reminded me of the imagined version of myself I liked best. Her older brother Jem was very much like my brother Okey. Her small Southern American town of Macomb, Alabama, was similar to my town, Nsukka in eastern Nigeria. It was a place of open doors, where people had petty loyalties and gossiped about the one strange family in town. But Macomb was also much less sophisticated than Nsukka, in a way that was fascinating, with little boys who did not bathe for weeks and people who sealed deals by spitting into their palms and shaking hands.
The Second Part Represents A Loss Of Innocence
I was taken by how incredibly funny the novel was. Some scenes made me laugh out loud, such as when Scout's teacher at school is horrified to discover that her student can read. At 11, I read the novel with great pleasure. Or rather I read the first part with great pleasure and mostly skipped the second part. Perhaps it was because I wasn't able to understand the social and political details or because I was unprepared for the loss of innocence that the second part represents. In this half of
the novel, Scout and her brother observe their father, Atticus Finch, as he defends a black man named Tom Robinson. Tom is accused of attacking a white woman, and Finch becomes his lawyer. The racism hinted at in the first part explodes in all its savagery, and the town becomes a cesspit.
Rereading the novel as an adult, I came to admire it for its clear-eyed description of American prejudice. Few modern American novels have the confidence to take on social issues in the way Harper Lee does. Much writing today about racism is cloaked in humor or in so much poetic language that it becomes vague. Lee refuses to hide behind literary effects. Her writing is so beautiful, so steady and clear, that she could have evaded confronting prejudice head-on, but she doesn't.
Lee Creates Complicated Characters
Nor does she create perfect characters — although Atticus Finch comes close. She complicates them all, so that while Scout is the lovable narrator whose family hates racism, we are not allowed to forget that she and her family benefit from being white. When their summer friend, Dill, is upset by the cruel way that the black man is treated in court, Scout is dismissive. "He's just a negro," she says. It does not occur to Scout to question her attitudes, just as it does not occur to her to question why black adults rise in the courtroom to give up their seats to little white children. The most moving line in the novel, for me, is spoken by the accused black man Tom. When someone asks why he would be scared if he was innocent, Tom responds that if they were a black man, they'd be scared, too. That simple statement says all the reader needs to know about the larger system that Lee questions. In Macomb, being black is considered evidence of guilt.
That other great writer of the American South, William Faulkner, writes of racism as though it were something unavoidable. Lee, on the other hand, writes about racism in a way that questions its very foundation. She does so with confidence and skill that always carries the reader along. Her children characters may be politically smart, but they are still children, rather than adults in little bodies. Her anger is present, but the issues are always surrounded by a wonderful humanity.
She Writes About Class Differences Too
While racism might be America's gravest sin, class discrimination comes a close second. Macomb does not appear to have middle-class black people, or if it does, Scout does not meet them. But even within the white community, the class differences are glaring. The Ewells are racist, but they are also seen as "trash." They sign welfare checks and never bathe, and serve as a form of entertainment for the better-placed whites. The white woman who accuses a black man of attacking her is so unused to being spoken to courteously that she thinks she is being mocked. Lower-class children are clearly marked and the other children know them.
"Important Without Being Like Medicine"
Sometimes novels are considered important in the way medicine is: They taste terrible and are difficult to swallow, but are still good for you. The best novels are those that are important without being like medicine. They have something to say and are intelligent but never forget to be entertaining and to have character and emotion at their center. Harper Lee's triumph is one of those.
Answers
GPT-4o mini
**Book Review: 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee**
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie offers a profound reflection on Harper Lee's iconic novel, "To Kill a Mockingbird," expressing her initial enchantment with the story as a child and her deepened understanding of its significance as an adult. Upon her first encounter with the book at the tender age of 11, Adichie was captivated by the simple joys of childhood portrayed through the eyes of Scout Finch, a narrator whose spirit resonated with her own. The parallel between Scout's small Southern town of Macomb, Alabama, and Adichie’s own upbringing in Nsukka, Nigeria, allowed her to connect deeply with the narrative's themes of innocence and discovery.
Adichie's analysis highlights the sharp humor and relatability of the novel, focusing on Scout’s adventures and the innocence that permeates the story's first half. However, she acknowledges a pivotal shift in tone when the narrative transitions to the more complex and harsh realities of racism and prejudice embodied in Tom Robinson's trial. This second half—filled with the loss of innocence—exposes the ugly truth of societal injustices that, at 11, Adichie found difficult to fully digest.
As an adult, Adichie recognizes the bravery with which Lee addresses themes of racism. She notes that Lee's writing cuts through the often overly poetic or humorous treatment of such topics in modern literature, providing a clear-eyed perspective on deep-seated prejudices. Adichie emphasizes that Lee's characters are not perfect but are intricately flawed, reflecting the complexities of human nature, and this realism adds depth to their experiences, especially in moments that force readers to confront uncomfortable truths.
In addition to racism, Adichie points out that class differences are another critical theme explored in the novel. She articulates how Lee deftly portrays the stratification within the white community and the absence of middle-class black representation in Macomb, further complicating the social landscape of the story. The portrayal of characters like the Ewells illustrates the intersections of race and class, revealing how societal hierarchies permeate both white and black experiences.
In concluding her review, Adichie celebrates Lee's ability to weave important social critique into a narrative that never sacrifices its capacity for entertainment and emotional engagement. She asserts that the true triumph of "To Kill a Mockingbird" lies in its ability to be significant without feeling didactic, making it a timeless, essential read that resonates on both personal and societal levels. This nuanced understanding of the novel positions it not just as a story about childhood and morality, but as a powerful commentary on the enduring issues of racism and class discrimination in America.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie offers a profound reflection on Harper Lee's iconic novel, "To Kill a Mockingbird," expressing her initial enchantment with the story as a child and her deepened understanding of its significance as an adult. Upon her first encounter with the book at the tender age of 11, Adichie was captivated by the simple joys of childhood portrayed through the eyes of Scout Finch, a narrator whose spirit resonated with her own. The parallel between Scout's small Southern town of Macomb, Alabama, and Adichie’s own upbringing in Nsukka, Nigeria, allowed her to connect deeply with the narrative's themes of innocence and discovery.
Adichie's analysis highlights the sharp humor and relatability of the novel, focusing on Scout’s adventures and the innocence that permeates the story's first half. However, she acknowledges a pivotal shift in tone when the narrative transitions to the more complex and harsh realities of racism and prejudice embodied in Tom Robinson's trial. This second half—filled with the loss of innocence—exposes the ugly truth of societal injustices that, at 11, Adichie found difficult to fully digest.
As an adult, Adichie recognizes the bravery with which Lee addresses themes of racism. She notes that Lee's writing cuts through the often overly poetic or humorous treatment of such topics in modern literature, providing a clear-eyed perspective on deep-seated prejudices. Adichie emphasizes that Lee's characters are not perfect but are intricately flawed, reflecting the complexities of human nature, and this realism adds depth to their experiences, especially in moments that force readers to confront uncomfortable truths.
In addition to racism, Adichie points out that class differences are another critical theme explored in the novel. She articulates how Lee deftly portrays the stratification within the white community and the absence of middle-class black representation in Macomb, further complicating the social landscape of the story. The portrayal of characters like the Ewells illustrates the intersections of race and class, revealing how societal hierarchies permeate both white and black experiences.
In concluding her review, Adichie celebrates Lee's ability to weave important social critique into a narrative that never sacrifices its capacity for entertainment and emotional engagement. She asserts that the true triumph of "To Kill a Mockingbird" lies in its ability to be significant without feeling didactic, making it a timeless, essential read that resonates on both personal and societal levels. This nuanced understanding of the novel positions it not just as a story about childhood and morality, but as a powerful commentary on the enduring issues of racism and class discrimination in America.