Discovering Richard Russo

One hot July day last summer, I was browsing through books at a street sale when I found a book called She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders, by Jennifer Finney Boylan.  As I have a transgendered (FTM) cousin, I was interested to read about this woman's struggle with gender issues, so for two bucks I bought it.

She's Not There was well-written, human, and touching.  Boylan told her story in mostly matter-of-fact tones, and I empathized with her struggle to come to terms with her gender identity.  The most intriguing part of the narrative, for me, was how her loved ones coped with her transformation, specifically her wife, Grace, and her best friend, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Richard Russo.  Both stood by her; both came with her to Wisconsin for her reassignment surgery, and legally, as far as I can tell from Boylan's website, she and Grace are even still married.  Talk about quasi-happy endings (happy for Jennifer; I still can't help wondering how Grace really feels).

Happy Birthday, To Kill A Mockingbird

Okay, I'm a few weeks late, but I want to wish my favourite novel of all time a happy 50th birthday.

To Kill A Mockingbird is a literary achievement far beyond scope of more prolific authors.  The solitary output of reclusive (Nelle) Harper Lee of Monroeville, Alabama, the book is one of the most banned books in America.  It shares this distinction with novels such as The Catcher in the Rye, The Grapes of Wrath, and 1984.  You have to bear true meaning, touch a lot of minds and hearts, to engender that much fear in small-minded people.

Several years ago I wrote a little piece called "Five Books for Fiction Writers."  Of course Mockingbird was one of the five.  I can't do better than to reprint what I wrote then:

This is the finest novel ever written in the English language. It executes every element of the novel– plot, theme, setting, characterization, voice, and point-of-view. The plot is easy to follow, yet far from simplistic. The themes, racism and the destruction of innocence (and innocents), are and (sadly) will be relevant forever. The setting perfectly evokes a small Southern town of the 1930s. True social change will not come for three more decades, yet we see the how the seeds of the coming revolution are sown.

Each character is fully-drawn, and none is a stereotype (except perhaps Miss Stephanie Crawford). Aunt Alexandra epitomizes this; just as we come to believe she represents the social standards of the day, we see her humanity in her love for Atticus. But the voice is the crown jewel of Lee’s achievement. The voice of the narrator, Jean Louise “Scout” Finch, changes seamlessly from a child’s to adult’s perspective throughout the book, and the reader always knows who is speaking– the adult or child. It blends perfectly with the point of view of the author, whose biographical details closely match Scout’s. This book is everything a book should be– absorbing, meaningful, witty, readable, intelligent, and technically close to perfection.

For many years I longed to hear that another book was coming from Lee, but alas, it will not be.  At 86, Lee now lives in an assisted living facility after a stroke. I would write her a fan letter, but she prefers anonymity to adulation, and what could I say to her that hasn't been said a thousand times before?  I'm not the only one who sees this book as the novel of the 20th century (and possibly the 21st).  I'm not the only one who puts it at the top of top-ten lists.  Still, gratitude dictates that I say "thank you" for the enjoyment and enlightenment that this work of art has given me.  I will insist that my children read it when they are old enough to appreciate it; I will insist they see the movie too.  Great art inspires thought, and thought inspires change.  As long as this book remains read and in print, people will give consideration to the great themes of good and evil, prejudice and ignorance, innocence and understanding, that are at the heart of this book, and at the heart of the human condition.