Fathers and daughters. Racism and reality. Family and phantoms. Accusations and disingenuousness. Lust and lies. Rape and righteousness. And rites of passage.

Simplicity is the only way I can describe To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s so fervently ingrained in me that Scout is the simplest of characters who teaches us complex lessons about life in her innocence, that I can only think of one other character in literature that comes close, but even he has a wordliness to him that I can’t put him in her class.

Nope. Don’t bother asking me in the comments who he is. I’ll tell you later.

The only novel ever written by Harper Lee and published in 1960 just prior to the apex of the Civil Rights movement, it’s a book that has had its fair share of criticism. Not for nothing, either. Lee accurately portrays events that happened all over the United States at the time when race issues were spurious at best in the media. Her reasons for not publishing another novel are, according to her, quite simple. In a rare interview she basically said that she said what she had to say. I adore the decisiveness of that statement.

The narrative style appeals to me and has since I first read it. It is the only book in my collection that I re-read every year. Every. Single. Year. I can pick it up just about anywhere and start to read and I’m instantly involved in the story. Having seen the movie version too many times to count, I also happen to read it in my head with a southern accent and Atticus Finch is, without a doubt, Gregory Peck. I can’t even think “Atticus” without thinking of Peck’s portrayal of him.

I think it’s also the history of the southern towns that Lee depicts that appeals to me. It can be just about anywhere and you would find similar characters and situations, though I caution many of my students who decide to read it that they must stick with the beginning chapters of the book where she describes life in those towns to appreciate what will happen later on in the story. They have all returned to me and said, “Hey. You were right about that beginning part.”

Even though there is simplicity in making a 9-year old girl named Scout the narrator of an important novel, there is genius in it as well. We hope for her, root for her, and ultimately, look up to her for making things simple. For taking Boo by the hand. For being a sassy tomboy who doesn’t understand why she must wear dresses. For teaching us that standing up for people is SO RIGHT that nothing else need be considered.

There is no doubt that Tom Robinson, the black man falsely accused of rape, should be found innocent*. And in a moment of shock and disgust at the jury’s finding of him, I plainly weep at the minister who turns to Scout as her father sadly leaves the courtroom and calls her by her Christian name to show honor to her father and quietly utters, “Stand up, Jean Louise. Your father’s passing.”

My favorite chapter, by far, is chapter 11. I don’t want to like the racist Mrs. Dubose. I want to hate her. She embodies such ugliness that by the time I get to the end of the chapter I am in tears for bothering to have compassion for this woman, but Jem, Scout’s brother, shows us how if, for nothing else, than pity.

For no other reason than I can, I’m simply adding two of my favorite quotes from the book. Take away from them what you want:

Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy . . . but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.

He turned out the light and went into Jem’s room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.

To Kill a Mockingbird is anything but simple. And it should be anything but banned.

*edited when I realized my faux pas.