As with any post that is a political slant on pop culture, I am putting this under the pop culture category.

This post was originally written in response to someone else’s blog post. I decided to post the response here, with a tiny amount of modification.

Let me begin by saying that To Kill a Mockingbird is one of my favorite stories of classical literature ever. I love it and I truly believe it is an excellent work of art. The movie is my single favorite movie of all time. Let me repeat. Of all the modern adventure movies, the great dramas; of all the Golden Age of Hollywood movies; of all the foreign language films; of animated films. This is my single favorite movie of all time, and has been pretty much all my life. Those two things said, let’s get right to it.

First, on the subject of Atticus Finch as a White Savior, or White savior/paternalism in art, or in general, it is a good idea to give a brief description and historical context to it. White saviors are White people who provide help to non-White people in a self-serving manner. Paternalism is similar, but a more condescending idea that White people know at least as good as people of color what is needed. Some of this is done to advance the White agenda (i.e. imperialism and/or religion). It can also be done in a genuine attempt to help, but still be misguided.

Imperialists and missionaries used the concept to justify their presence in non-White lands. They could claim they were “bettering” the “natives” by educating them, by clothing them (read: Western clothing), by Western culture inculcation.  And then, once done, continue treating the “natives” as inferiors, like children (thus the paternalism expression), partly due to racism or social Darwinism, and partly cold, calculated political reasons, to maintain their power. The “their” of course, were Europeans.

White saviorism was later used as a literary trope with novels taking place in colonial lands, first with English writers such as Rudyard Kipling (“White Man’s Burden”, in addition to his Indian stories) and his friend H. Rider Haggard (best known for King Solomon’s Mines). These works were less about the White man as hero in the Atticus Finch sense, and more about local White “experts” who believed they knew more about the natives than they knew about themselves. This trope morphed into something more modern and contemporary, and became a Hollywood and American writers favorite trope. It then moved into political activism, though it is important to note that paternalistic activism also existed in the abolition movement of the early and middle 19^th century. It can be found today, this past month, in the George Floyd protests, where Whites do more than defend Blacks: many (some unconsciously) believe they know better than the Black population what is needed.

Moving to To Kill a Mockingbird (aka TKAM). A lot of people have been objecting to the material in this book for a few years now. School boards are removing it from their curriculum. Some of it is because the content is considered too strong for teenagers (this writer vehemently disagrees and sees it as the coddling of the modern teen, but that’s a different concept for a different post). Some of it is because of what many perceive as Blacks portrayed in a problematic way, or a book about racism not delving enough into its material. Harper wrote about what she knew; had she written about racism or the Black characters in depth, she may well—and more deservedly—be under fire for writing about that which she did not understand. It is an important distinction.

I do agree we don’t see a lot of real depth to the Black characters. They are broad stereotypes. Calpurnia, for example, is a Mamie-style persona, the Southern Black influencer and disciplinarian of little White Southern kids. As I point out in my post on Gone with the Wind, I had a Calpurnia in my life also. Most kids my age in the South did. Tom too has been painted in very general tropes. Of course, in his case, there is a good reason. He is a Black man accused of a heinous crime against a White woman. We are supposed to like him, sympathize with him. For Atticus’ sake. For Scout’s sake. It wouldn’t do to make him complex. Not in a pre-Civil Rights book taking place in the Depression. Especially for readers in the South, but really anywhere. Tom has to be the best he can be, and the Ewells the absolute worst, so that even many racists want Tom to win.

But I stray. This isn’t really a book about racism. That’s the rub. It is first and foremost a coming of age story. This is why Boo Radley plays such a big role, albeit in the background. After a brief introduction and meeting of Dill, the story opens with the children interested in Boo (rolling tires into the Radley yard, and us finding out Boo’s “fame” in the town), and it ends with him too. That ending is part of that coming of age, as part of growing up is distinguishing between imaginary truth, and actual truth. Kids in some ways grew up faster in previous generations, helping out on their parents’ farms, businesses, household, looking after younger family members. So this is partly a generational thing. It is also dictated by circumstances. A poor child grows up faster than a more affluent one. They are forced to. Kids in the Depression grew up a little faster. Yet always, coming of age is dictated by learning our place in the world. Not the normative. What is. Thus, it is a coming of age story set against class first, then race, then ethics and justice.

Why class first? By setting her novel in the Depression, class became the obvious classification. At the top of the class totem pole is any rich person. There aren’t many in Maycomb. It’s a poor town. Nor are they rich as we understand it today. But there are merchants and business owners who fit the bill, such as Mr. Underwood, who runs the town’s newspaper, and Mr. Link Deas, a landowner and business owner. Then come the intelligentsia, like Judge Taylor or Atticus. Some of these are middle class, some poor. Atticus is poor. The poor themselves are separated. The upper echelon, such as the Finches, are mostly town folk, have more or less steady jobs, and are better educated. Then you have the under educated country poor, as represented by the Cunninghams. A Cunningham does not have secure work, has an inconsistent paycheck, and are probably racist. But they are also hard working, honest, and can usually be reasoned with. They are mostly decent but can get out of control. The bottom of the White pile is poor White trash. Bob Ewell makes Mr. Cunningham look like Atticus Finch. The least amount of education, more likely to be unemployed in this era than not, a pretty bad person in the best of times, and these are not in the best of times. People like him cannot be reasoned with and he has a lot of hate, hate driven in part by being low man on the totem pole. Below Ewell are all Blacks; themselves separated with a Reverend Sykes at the top to a laborer like Tom at the bottom of the pole.

Part of the lesson for Scout is that everyone must fulfill their role. But they don’t. Ewell is always a danger but what turns him into a rabid dog (you didn’t think that dog’s presence was an accident did you?) is that nearly everyone looks at Tom Robinson with more respect than they do to Bob Ewell. For a man like Ewell, he will always feel the sting of condescension of people looking down on his filthy self and property, his behavior, his existence. To know many townsfolk sympathize with Tom more is the final straw. It is not only inevitable, but a lesson to Scout that you veer from the ordered world at your own risk.

Finally, this is a book about ethics and justice. If TKAM teaches Scout that sometimes the battle must be fought even if the outcome is certain, the battle must be fought; less stated (until the sequel Go Set a Watchman, aka GSAW), is that sometimes justice comes in many flavors. A man can fight for a Black in one realm, but that doesn’t mean he will in another. It is too complex for the young Scout to grasp and as we see in the GSAW, she is still grappling with it through young adulthood.

Two more things need to be addressed. TKAM does deal in stereotypes and not in great depth, as stated above. That includes White as well as Black—just look at Dolphus Raymond, and even Ewell is a broad stereotype. Of course, every writer must pick and choose what to put in and what to leave out. No book can cover everything and to try would be to create a novel the length of War and Peace! However, this does not mean that the novel does not touch on Black issues other than just Tom and the accusation from the lips of a White woman. Black labor is discussed a little. The vagaries of White retaliation against Blacks. Helen can’t work until Mr. Deas hires her, and then he must provide protection (not all people prefer Tom, after all). There is a look at mixed relationships, as touched on with Dolphus Raymond. The tightknit community of Blacks is shown. They aren’t in depth. But they are discussed.

The other item, to wrap, is a couple of comments on GSAW. It seems clear that Harper Lee was coerced into releasing the manuscript for publication. She may not have known what she was doing. [But she may have, as well.] I do think its literary value is important, more important than the respect of her wishes. It sheds light on the writing process. It sheds light on TKAM. Despite people thinking it shows Atticus as racist, I don’t think that is quite its intent, and to the extent he is, I don’t think he is in the same way we are fighting against now. Atticus seems to have an excellent grasp of systemic racism. Unlike so many now, he does not believe that too many rights at once are a good thing. He isn’t trying to prevent progress but slow it down. And while many do indeed slow things down for their own sake, it isn’t always for greed or prejudice. Sometimes it is about adapting. Atticus defends Tom because justice must be done. But his attitude in TKAM toward Tom and Tom’s family is not inconsistent with Atticus’ behavior in GSAW. This book brings a lot of needed context to the story and characters. And GSAW, no more than TKAM, is really about racism. It continues the theme of coming of age; as an adult, Scout must learn that for all of us, our heroes have feet of clay, and we must forge our own path. That is the lesson Atticus is trying to teach Scout. They can each have their separate paths. It means acceptance of who people are and a greater understanding, that did not simply end with Boo Radley on his porch.