What new marvels would the evening bring?
A few of my favorite quotes/snippets to appease the Captain....
“What’s your birthday, Cal?”
“I just have it on Christmas, it’s easier to remember that way—I don’t have a real birthday.”
These little windows in Calpurnia's life are so bittersweet. On one hand, Calpurnia is a mother to Jem and Scout. She loves them, cares for them, and they mind her and love her back. On the other, they have no idea about her life, her background, or her history.
Back to the perfect writing for a second: can you think of a better detail to describe Calpurnia's situation as a Southern African-American working woman at this time than not knowing your own birthday? Once again: short, sharp, and bursting with meaning.
“Cal,” I asked “why do you talk nigger-talk to the—to your folks when you know it’s not right?”
“Well, in the first place I’m black—"
For a little girl so aware of language, I'm sure the code-switching was confusing. I'm glad that Lee doesn't make Scout an angel--she's a product of her culture as well and her own languages belies that. I love Calpurnia's patient answer as she continues....
“It’s not necessary to tell all you know. It’s not ladylike—in the second place folks don’t like to have somebody around knowin’ more than they do. It aggravates ‘em. You’re not gonna change any of them by talkin’ right, they’ve got to want to learn themselves, and when they don’t want to learn there’s nothing you can do but keep your mouth shut or talk their language.”
“How can you tell?” asked Dill. “He looked black to me.”
“You can’t tell sometimes, not unless you know who they are. But he’s half Raymond, all right.”
“But how can you tell?” I asked.
“I told you, Scout, you just hafta know who they are.”
“Well how do you know we ain’t Negroes?”
“Uncle Jack Finch says we really don’t know. He says as far as he can trace back the Finches we ain’t, but for all he knows we mighta come straight out of Ethiopia durin’ the Old Testament.”
How Americans determine who is and isn't black versus who is and isn't white or any other so-called race is one of the great mysteries of our culture. Classification is a dangerous act. Although the whole topic will now always remind me of Dave Chappelle's racial draft. Go Wu Tan Clan.
“Never, never, never, on cross-examination ask a witness a question you don’t already know the answer to, was a tenet I absorbed with my baby-food.”
It took me two years of debate to learn the truth behind this...if only I had absorbed it with my baby food....
On the way home from the trial…
“I was exhilarated. So many things had happened so fast I felt it would take years to sort them out, and now here was Calpurnia giving her precious Jem down the country—what new marvels would the evening bring?”
“What’s your birthday, Cal?”
“I just have it on Christmas, it’s easier to remember that way—I don’t have a real birthday.”
These little windows in Calpurnia's life are so bittersweet. On one hand, Calpurnia is a mother to Jem and Scout. She loves them, cares for them, and they mind her and love her back. On the other, they have no idea about her life, her background, or her history.
Back to the perfect writing for a second: can you think of a better detail to describe Calpurnia's situation as a Southern African-American working woman at this time than not knowing your own birthday? Once again: short, sharp, and bursting with meaning.
“Cal,” I asked “why do you talk nigger-talk to the—to your folks when you know it’s not right?”
“Well, in the first place I’m black—"
For a little girl so aware of language, I'm sure the code-switching was confusing. I'm glad that Lee doesn't make Scout an angel--she's a product of her culture as well and her own languages belies that. I love Calpurnia's patient answer as she continues....
“It’s not necessary to tell all you know. It’s not ladylike—in the second place folks don’t like to have somebody around knowin’ more than they do. It aggravates ‘em. You’re not gonna change any of them by talkin’ right, they’ve got to want to learn themselves, and when they don’t want to learn there’s nothing you can do but keep your mouth shut or talk their language.”
“How can you tell?” asked Dill. “He looked black to me.”
“You can’t tell sometimes, not unless you know who they are. But he’s half Raymond, all right.”
“But how can you tell?” I asked.
“I told you, Scout, you just hafta know who they are.”
“Well how do you know we ain’t Negroes?”
“Uncle Jack Finch says we really don’t know. He says as far as he can trace back the Finches we ain’t, but for all he knows we mighta come straight out of Ethiopia durin’ the Old Testament.”
How Americans determine who is and isn't black versus who is and isn't white or any other so-called race is one of the great mysteries of our culture. Classification is a dangerous act. Although the whole topic will now always remind me of Dave Chappelle's racial draft. Go Wu Tan Clan.
“Never, never, never, on cross-examination ask a witness a question you don’t already know the answer to, was a tenet I absorbed with my baby-food.”
It took me two years of debate to learn the truth behind this...if only I had absorbed it with my baby food....
On the way home from the trial…
“I was exhilarated. So many things had happened so fast I felt it would take years to sort them out, and now here was Calpurnia giving her precious Jem down the country—what new marvels would the evening bring?”
posted by Erica at 5:27 PM
3 Comments:
Good snippets, your Grace. I had a lot of those marked for comment, too.
As I was reading the 'cross examination' passage just now, I thought of playing Clue. Sort of the same strategy there.
Keep it coming!
ok, is it a sign of addiction to Comedy Central that once I read your Wu Tang Clan reference all I could think of was the skit about the Wu Tang Financial Group? :)
lol. I totally need to focus.
Wu Tang Financial Group was hilarious...we need the Wu Tang Library....
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