I remember seeing the book, tiny, purple cover broken up, thrown haphazardly onto the table. I picked it up curiously, trying to smooth the rips that had cut along the pages.
“Is this any good?” I asked, nodding towards the novel in my hand. My older brother’s eyes flitted towards me, shrugging. “It’s alright, I guess." I let my eyes wander over the unusual title, "To Kill a Mockingbird," and the picture of a bird flying, with a ball of yarn in a tree. It didn’t stand out too much, but the idea that it was a standard reading for the older classes stirred my interest. “Can I read it?” I asked, already tucking the book into the crook of my arm. I figured I could finish it within the next few days, pausing in my current novel, to figure out whether or not I was a fan.
“Go for it.”
Thus began my journey at the tender age of 11, into Harper Lee’s one and only, coming-of-age novel. I would end up finishing the book that night, staying up late with a flashlight, biting off whatever was left of my fingernails to find out what would happen next in Scout’s world. I didn’t understand the deeper issues of race, a broken justice system, class, and all else that was wrong with the Deep South. All I knew in that moment was that I had found a novel that I wanted to read over and over again.
Harper Lee wrote from her own experiences. She grew up in a tiny town in Alabama, spending nearly her entire life in the state. Her father was a lawyer, her best friend, Truman Capote, would visit during the summers and a major court case happened when she was just 10 years old. She would never write another novel, and after 1964 would never grant another interview. She stayed close to her hometown, and in turn, they stayed close to her and the residents protected the celebrity’s privacy from the prying eyes of the world.
On Friday, February 19, Nelle Harper Lee passed away in her sleep at the age of 89. The impact she made in this country is astronomical. Her novel is presented in most high schools and now more than ever it has opened a dialogue on the issues that present themselves. Yet, for all that she did for us, Harper Lee never asked for more than what every author has asked: to be able to reach someone out there who appreciates all the hard work she put in.
Of course, there were other novels that she worked on. A writer’s life is never complete, ideas always swirling, something always coming up next. But all those would be filed away; they weren’t good enough for Lee, and so, they weren’t good enough for the rest of the world. Last year, a "prequel" to "To Kill a Mockingbird" was published, "Go Set a Watchmen," the book Harper Lee had originally written to publish until she was asked to write a story about Scout as a young girl. There’s controversy still as to whether she was really wanting this to be published, but it put her back in the spotlight, 55 years later, no longer a young woman, but still a proud American novelist.
Harper Lee would have never known me, would have never understood the weight her novel would make on an impressionable pre-teen. I, like many, adored her, but from afar, just the way she wanted it to be. The world mourns a novelist, a family sorrows over a lost member, and myself, I remember the words that have gotten me through it all. “Things are always better in the morning.” – Harper Lee, "To Kill a Mockingbird"
