Today, I rediscovered my copy of "To Kill a Mockingbird"
Apparently, it fell down the Piano in the living room. By a unique stroke of luck (or perhaps by a decree of the fates), I found it, dog-eared and dirty.
My love affair with this book started when I was 14. My aunt was a subscriber of Reader's Digest and she often deigned to let me read the magazine after she was through with it.
I forgot the date of the pertinent issue, but I do remember flipping the pages idly, till I chanced upon an article written about the book's impact on the American society. Despite never having read the book at that time, I still read the whole article. Having read almost every issue produced since my birth, I knew that RD would not feature a simple book unless it had a "something" into it. My curiosity piqued, I vainly searched for the book in our province, to no avail.
Months later, I had the opportunity to visit another province, which was much larger than ours, and finally, I was able to purchase a copy there. My companion remarked to me that she had read the book in college, and that was a good one. Glad for her assurance, I thanked her but decided to postpone reading it till I was home.
The first chapter of the book was a disappointment for me. I had not expected an introduction that was fast-paced, charging full throttle at the reader. I was puzzled by the technique of storytelling Lee employed, and I put it down, only to forget all about it.
A few months later, I tried to read it again. This time, I told myself that it would all probably make sense if I read it all. From then on, I was hooked. Jem, Scout and Dill seemed like long-time friends, and I totally fell in love with Maycomb.
One more thing that I really love about the book is it's utterly surprising, yet totally believable twists and turns. I lay totally shocked at Tom Robinson's conviction and death, and was totally exuberant about the ending; until then, I had totally forgotten about Boo Radley and was totally fuming about Bob Ewell.
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