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A review by bhnmt61
Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee
4.0
If you didn’t grow up in the south, you’re probably not going to fully understand this book. You’re not going to get what it’s like to feel deeply, deeply embedded in a place that is home, and then to slowly, painfully become aware as you age that it is profoundly flawed. And you either find a way to make peace with that— as Jean Louise does— or you don’t (me). It’s so much more complicated than it looks from the outside. My solution— to move across the country and visit for 3-5 days once or twice a year— is not necessarily the best option. But Jean-Louise’s solution is not one that would work for me. It’s.... oh, it’s just so complicated.
Anyway. This is not a perfect novel. It is famously not a final version— it’s the version an author turns in to their agent or editor knowing full well it still needs a lot of work. There are scenes that sing, and scenes that go clunk. But it comes the closest of any book I’ve ever read to capturing the way your heart breaks into a million pieces when you finally realize that your home isn’t home anymore. And maybe it never was the place you thought it was.
There are the stifling expectations of young women in the pre-feminist South. There’s racist rhetoric that turns your stomach. Lee presents quite clearly the legacy of both casual and systemic racism that we are still trying to overcome today. Sadly, by today’s standards, Jean Louise is only a few steps more aware than her elders. It stirred up feelings of outrage and sadness that were far stronger than I usually allow myself to feel. I’m glad I read it. I’m not sure if I recommend it.
Anyway. This is not a perfect novel. It is famously not a final version— it’s the version an author turns in to their agent or editor knowing full well it still needs a lot of work. There are scenes that sing, and scenes that go clunk. But it comes the closest of any book I’ve ever read to capturing the way your heart breaks into a million pieces when you finally realize that your home isn’t home anymore. And maybe it never was the place you thought it was.
There are the stifling expectations of young women in the pre-feminist South. There’s racist rhetoric that turns your stomach. Lee presents quite clearly the legacy of both casual and systemic racism that we are still trying to overcome today. Sadly, by today’s standards, Jean Louise is only a few steps more aware than her elders. It stirred up feelings of outrage and sadness that were far stronger than I usually allow myself to feel. I’m glad I read it. I’m not sure if I recommend it.