Harper Lee (born 1927)

Harper Lee ' was born at Monroeville, Alabama, in 1927. She attended the local public schools end the University of Alabama, where she studied law. For the past several years she has lived in New York.
To Kill a Mockingbird («Убити пересмішника»), I960, is the first novel of Harper Lee that brought her fame not only in her own country, the USA, but abroad as well. The action of the novel takes place in the late thirties, in Alabama. The title of the novel is symbolic. In many a Southern state the mockingbird, a merry songbird, symbolizes innocence and its killing is considered a sin and a moral crime.
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD
The story is told by Jean Louise Finch who remembers her child-hood when she lived with her father Atticus Finch, who was the lawyer, her elder brother Jem and the Negro cook Calpurnia. Jean Louise was a very clever little girl, kind and active.
I had to start to school in a week. I never waited more for anything in my life. Jem took me to school the first day. When we were walking Jem told me that during school hours I had to be with the first grade and he would be with the fifth. In short I had to leave him alone. "We will do like we always do at home," he said, "but you'll see — school's different."
And it was different. Miss Caroline Fisher, our teacher, was no more than twenty-one. She began the day by reading us a story about cats. 'The cats had long conversations with one another, they lived in a warm house under a kitchen floor. Miss Caroline came to the end of the story and said, "Wasn't that nice?"
Then she went to the blackboard, wrote the alphabet in big letters, turned to the class and asked, "Does anyboknow what these are?" Everybody did, but she chose me. Ї read the alphabet and she made me read most of my First Reader. Then she told me to tell my father not to teach me any more. "He hasn't taught me anything, Miss Caroline. Atticus hasn't got time to teach me anything," I said.
"Everybody who goes home to lunch hold up your hands," said Miss Caroline. The town children did so, and she looked us over.
"Everybody who brings his lunch put it on the desk." Miss Caroline walked up to Walter Cunningham's desk. "Where is your lunch?" she asked. "Did you forget it this morning?" Saying that, Miss Caroline went to her desk. "Here is some money," she said to Walter. "Go and eat in town today. You can pay meback tomorrow." Walter shook his head.
"No, thank you ma'am '."
"Here Walter, come get it."
Walter shook his head again. I wanted to help him.
"Miss Caroline, he's one of the Cunninghams," I said.
"What, Jean Louise?"
We all understood it. He didn't forget his lunch, he just didn't have any. He had none today, nor would he have any tomorrow or the next day.
"You'll get to know 3 all the country folk after a while. The Cunninghams never took anything they can't pay back, they live on what they have. They don't have much, but they live on it. Walter hasn't got money to bring you."
"Jean Louise, I've had enough of you this morning," said Miss Caroline. "You're starting off on the wrong foot in every way 4, my dear," and she told me to stand in the corner. I didn't stand long there, for the bell rang, and Miss Caroline watched the class go for lunch. As I was the last to leave, I saw her fall into her chair 5 and put her head in her arms. Had she been more friendly towards me, I would have felt sorry for her 6. She was a handsome little thing.
* * *
The second grade was no better than the first, but Jem told me that the older I got the better school would be, that he started off the same way, and it was only in the six grade that he learned anything interesting. The sixth grade pleased him from the beginning: he went through a short Egyptian Period and tried to walk putting one arm in front of him and one in back, putting one foot behind the other. He said that the Egyptians walked this way. I said if they did I didn't see how they got anything done, but Jem said they did more than the Americans ever did, they invented toilet paper and perpetual embalm
* * *
Jem and I met Christmas with mixed feeling. The good side of it was the tree and Uncle Jack Finch. Every ChristEve day we met Uncle Jack at Maycomb station; and he would spend a week with us.
Besides, we should visit Aunt Alexandra and Francis. Aunt Alexandra was Atticus's sister. I suppose I should include Uncle Jimmy, Aunt Alexandra's husband, but as he never spoke a word to me in my life except to say "Get off the fence," I never saw any reason to take notice of him. Henry, their son and his wife brought Francis to his grandparents'every Christmas.
Nothing could make Atticus spend Christmas day at home. We went to Finch's Landing3 every Christmas in my memory. The fact that Aunty was a good cook was some compensation for being forced to spend a holiday with Francis Hancock. He was a year older than I, and I disliked him because he enjoyed everything I disapof.
When Uncle Jack jumped down from the train on Christmas Eve day, we had to wait for the porter to hand him two long packages. Uncle Jack shook hands with Jem and swung me high 4, but not high enough; Uncle Jack was a head shorter than Atticus.
Uncle Jack was one of the few men of science who never terrified me, because he never behaved like a doctor.
One Christmas I was hiding in corners with a splinter in my foot permitting no one to come near me. When Uncle Jack caught me, he kept me laughing about one story. I asked Uncle Jack to let me know when he would pull it out, but he held up a bloody splinter and said he took it out while I was laughing.
We decorated the tree until bedtime, and that night I dreamed of the two long packages for Jem and me. Next morning Jem and I ran for them. They were from Atticus, who had written Uncle Jack to get them for us, and they were what we had asked for — the air-rifles.
"You'll have to teach them to shoot," said Uncle Jack.
"That's your job," said Atticus.
It was difficult for Atticus to take us away from the tree. He didn't let us take our air-rifles to the Landing and said if we made one false move he'd take them away from us for good 2.
At Christmas dinner I sat at the little table in the dining-room; Jem and Francis sat with the adults at the big dining table.
After dinner all went to the living room. Jem lay on the floor, and I went to the back yard. "Put on your coat," said Atticus dreamily, so I didn't hear him.
"Grandma's wonderful cook," said Francis. "She is going to teach me."
"Boys don't cook." I laughed at the thought of Jem in an apron.
* * *
Atticus was not a strong man: he was nearly fifty. He was much older than the parents of our school contemand there was nothing Jem or I could say about him when our classmates said, "My father..."
Our father didn't do anything. He worked in an office, not in a drugstore. He didn't play football, he was not the sheriff, he did not farm, work in a garage, or do anything that could possibly arouse the admiration of anyone.
Besides that, he wore glasses. He was nearly blind in his left eye. Whenever he wanted to see something well, he turned his head and looked from his right eye.
He did not do the things our schoolmates* fathers did: he never went hunting, he did not play poker or fish or drink or smoke. He sat in the living-room and read.
When Atticus gave us our air rifles he wouldn't teach us to shoot. Uncle Jack instructed us a little; he said Atticus wasn't interested in guns. Atticus said to Jem one day, "I'd rather you shot at cans ' in the back yard, but Ї know you'll go after birds. But remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."
That was the only time I ever heard Atticus say it was a sin to do something, and I asked our neighbour Miss Maudie about it.
"Your father is right," she said. "Mockingbirds don't do anything but sing for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us 3. That's why it's a sin to kill a mocking
"Miss Maudie, this is an old street, isn't it?"
"It's been here longer than the town."
"No, 1 mean the people in our street are all old. Jem and I are the only children around here. Miss Rachel is old and so are you and Aiticus."
"I don't call fifty very old 4. But maybe you are right, Jean-Louise. You've never been around young people much, have you?"
"Yes, at school."
"I mean young grown-ups. But you are lucky. If your father was thirty you'd find your life quite different."
"Certainly. Atticus can't do anything..."
"You don't know your father, child. But I have a lot of work to do, you'd better go home.
I went to the back yard, where Jem was practising his air rifle and joined him. I felt awfully sorry that our father could not do anything interesting.
One Saturday Jem and I decided to go out with our air rifles to see if we could find a rabbit or a squirrel. Sudden-ly I noticed that Jem was looking attentively at something down the street.
"What are you looking at?"
"That old dog down there," he said.
"That's old Tim Johnson, isn't it?"
"Yes."
Tim Johnson was the dog of Mr. Harry Johnson who drove the bus and lived on the southern end of town. Tim was a good dog, everybody liked him.
"What's he doing? What's the matter with him?"
"I don't know, Scout '. We'll better go home."
We ran back home and rushed into the kitchen.
"Cal," said Jem, "can you come down the street for a min lite?"
"What for, Jem?" said our cook. "I can't come down the street every time you want me."
"There's something wrong with an old dog down there. He is sick. He doesn't look usual."
"Are you telling me a story, Jem Finch?"
"No, Cal. I'm sure he is mad."
Calpurnia followed us and looked at the dog. Tim Johnson walked with great difficulty as if his right legs were shorter than his left legs. Suddenly Calpurnia grab-bed as by the shoulders and ran us home. She shut the door behind us, went to the telephone and shouted, "Give me Mr. Finch's office!"
"Mr. Finch!" she shouted. "This is Cal. There's a mad dog down the street, he is coming this way, yes sir,— I'm sure he's mad — old Tim Johnson, yes, sir — yes —"
She did not tell us what Atticus had said. She began to ring up all the neighbours to ask them not to leave their houses. Soon every door to the street was closed tight. We looked out of the window but did not see Tim Johnson. But we saw a black car approaching our house. Atticus and Mr. Heck Tдte got out.
Mr. Heck Tale was the sheriff of Maycomb County 3. He was as tall as Atticus, but thinner. His belt had a row of bullets sticking in it. He carried a heavy rifle. When he and Atticus reached the house, Jem opened the door.
"Stay inside, son," said Atticus. "Where is the dog, Cal?"
"Somewhere here," said Calpurnia, pointing down the street.
"Should we go after him, Heck?" asked Atticus.
"We better wait, Mr. Finch. Mad dogs usually go in a straight line, but you never can tell. Let's wait a mi
I thought mad dogs foamed at the mouth, galloped, leaped and lunged at throats ' and I thought they did it in August. If Tim Johnson had behaved like that I would have been less frightened.
We waited. I could see our neighbours' faces in the windows of their houses. Miss Maudie appeared, too. Mr. Tдte prepared his gun for shooting. Tim Johnson came into sight.
"Look at him," whispered Jem. "Mr. Heck said they walked in a straight line. He can't even stay in the road."
"He looks more sick than anything," I said.
Mr. Tдte put his hand to his forehead and leaned forward. "Yes, Mr. Finch, there's no doubt about it — he's mad."
Tim Johnson was advancing very slowly. He was not playing; we could see him shiver; his mouth opened and shut.
"He is looking for a place to die," said Jem.
Mr. Tдte turned around. "He is far from dead, Jem, he hasn't even started yet."
Atticus said, "He's quite near, Heck. You better get him now before he goes down the side street. God knows who is around the corner. Go inside, Cal."
"Take him, Mr. Finch." Mr. Tдte handed the rifle to Atticus. Jem and I nearly fainted.3
"Don't waste time, Heck," said Atticus. "Go on."
"Mr. Finch, this must be a one-shot job."
Atticus shook his hand, but the sheriff insisted and almost threw the rifle at Atticus. "I'd feel very comfortif you shot now," he said.
With great surprise Jem and I watched our father. He took the gun and walked out into the middle of the street.
He walked quickly, but I thought he moved like an underswimmer; time went very slowly.
Atticus pushed his glasses to his forehead; they fell 4own, and he stepped on them.
Tim Johnson made two steps forward, then stopped and raised his head. We saw his body go rigid.
With movements so quick they seemed simultaneous, Atticus's hand brought the gun to his shoulder.
The rifle cracked. Tim Johnson leaped and fell on the ground sidewalk in a brown-and-white heap 2. He did not know what hit him.
Mr. Tate came up to the dog, looked at him and then said to Atticus, "You were a little to the right, Mr. Finch."
"Always was," answered Atticus. He went to Mr. Tдte and stood looking down at poor Tim Johnson.
Doors opened one by one, and the neighbours slowly came alive. Miss Maudie walked down the steps.
Jem was paralysed. But when I wanted to run to Atticus, our father called "Stay where you are."
When Mr. Tдte and Atticus returned to the yard, Mr. Tдte was smiling. "You haven't forgotten much, Mr. Finch. You shoot as well as ever. They say it never leaves you."
Atticus was silent.
"Atticus?" said Jem.
"Yes?"
"Nothing."
"I saw that, One-Shot Finch," said Miss Maudie.
Atticus turned round and faced Miss Maudie. They looked at one another without saying anything, and Atticus got into the sheriff's car. "Come here," he said to Jem. "Don't go near that dog, you understand? Don't go near him, he's just as dangerous dead as alive."
"Yes, sir," said Jem. "Atticus —"
"What, son?"
"Nothing."
"What's the matter with you, boy, can't you talk?" said Mr. Tдte, smiling at Jem. "Didn't you know that your daddy is..."
"Hush, Heck," said Atticus, "let's go back to town."
When they drove away Jem and I came up to Miss Maudie. Jem could hardly speak: "Did you see him, Scout? Did you see him standing there? He looked like that gun was a part of him... and he did it so quick... I have to aim for ten minutes before I can hit something..."
Miss Maudie smiled. "Well now, Miss Jean-Louise," she said, "still think your father can't do anything? Still ashamed of him?"
"No, Miss," I said meekly.
"I forgot to tell you that Atticus Finch was the deadest shot ' in Maycomb County in his time."
"Dead shot..." echoed Jem.
"That's what I said, Jem Finch. I think you'll change your opinion now. Didn't you know his nickname was One-Shot Finch when he was a boy?"
"He never said anything about that," Jem said.
"Never said anything about it, did he?"
"No, rna'am."
"I wonder why he never goes hunting now," I said.
"Maybe I can tell you," said Miss Maudie. "Your father is civilized in his heart. Marksmanship is a gift of God, a talent — you must practise to make it perfect, but shooting is different from playing the piano. I think maybe he put down his gun when he realized that he has an unfair advantage over most living things 4. I think he wouldn't shoot till he had to, and he had to shoot today."
When we went home I told Jem we'd really have something to talk about at school on Monday. Jem turned on me.
"Don't say anything about it, Scout," he said.
"What? I certainly will. Not everybody's daddy is the deadest shot in Maycomb County."
Jem said, "If he'd wanted us to know it, he'd have told us. If he was proud of it, he'd have told us."
"Maybe he just forgot," I said.
"No, Scout, it's something you wouldn't understand. Atticus is old, but I wouldn't care if he couldn't do any', I wouldn't care at all."
Jem picked up a stone and threw it joyfully at the garage. Running after it, he called back. "Atticus is a gentleman, just like me!"

Внимание, отключите Adblock

Вы посетили наш сайт со включенным блокировщиком рекламы!
Ссылка для скачивания станет доступной сразу после отключения Adblock!

Скачать