I Watch To Kill a Mockingbird: Filling Big Shoes
by Hadley Ajana

I spent last Sunday morning running through literary, historical, and philosophical figures, as well as great men I have known, trying to come up with an individual I admired enough to name my child after. My first attempts were fruitless. Everyone I respect for some reason I dislike for another. After letting the issue percolate in my unconscious for a few days, a name surfaced. There is one man I deeply admire in every respect. I know nothing less than perfect about him. That's probably because he's a literary creation. Still, he's as real to me as any man I've every known: Atticus Finch.

Harper Lee's novel To Kill a Mockingbird is told from the point of view of Atticus's youngest child, Jean Louise. She narrates her experiences of two summers in the early 1930's in Maycomb County, a small southern town. Scout, as everyone calls Jean Louise, is six years old when we meet her. She has a brother, Jem, and a summertime playmate, Dill Harris, older boys obsessed with a neighbor rumored to be mentally ill and held in chains in a nearby home. While Scout, Jem, and Dill absorb themselves with Boo Radley's situation, Atticus, a widowed lawyer, agrees to take on the case of a black man wrongly accused of raping a white woman. The Pulitzer Prize winning semi-autobiographical novel was made into a movie in 1962.

Gregory Peck won the Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of Atticus Finch, a role he poured his soul into. "I put everything I had into it, " he explained in a 1989 interview, "all my feelings and everything I'd learned in 46 years of living, about family life and fathers and children... And my feelings about racial justice and inequality and opportunity." Largely through Peck's performance, Atticus became an American symbol not only of quiet dignity, honor, and kindness, but also of bravery, courage, and heroism. What intrigues me is this particular combination of characteristics. Would one properly call this hero an introvert or extrovert? Can one be an introvert who embodies courage, bravery, and heroism? Is it possible for an extrovert to be quietly dignified, honorable, and kind? I watched the film again recently with this question in mind: Is Atticus Finch an introvert?

Most American cinematic heroes are known for their physical bravery and courage. Here's a sampling of movies from the American Film Institute's "Greatest 100 Movies of All Time": Patton, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Star Wars, Ben-Hur, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Jaws. As you recall the protagonists of these movies, you are reminded of their physical prowess or courage in a life-threatening situation. Atticus, too, shows this type of courage. When Tom Robinson is transferred to the town's jailhouse the night before his trial (the defendant had been kept out of town for his own protection), Atticus camps out in front of the man's cell overnight. His resolve to protect his client is tested by a lynch mob. While Atticus does show courage in facing an angry crowd, it is not what he does with his body that makes him a hero. Anyone familiar with the scene would agree that Atticus's moral courage is emphasized, not his physical bravery. The question that I am concerned with, though, is whether this willingness to take on the mob makes Atticus an extrovert.

No. Here's why. Interestingly, little Jean Louise Finch acts as a foil for her father when she shows up at the confrontation between Atticus and the mob. Scout is undoubtedly an extrovert concerned with figuring out her place in the outer world. We are first introduced to Jean Louise as she plays outside her house one morning. A poor farmer, Mr. Cunningham, drops by to leave a payment on his entailment to Atticus. Scout bombards the obviously embarrassed Cunningham with greetings, offering to get her daddy to come out and say thank you for the produce. Atticus tells Scout not to call him anymore when Mr. Cunningham comes by and tries to explain that a poor man doesn't need his indebtedness emphasized. Scout then wants to know if she is poor, too. Later, she peppers Jem with questions about their mother as they fall asleep. Scout wants to know if she was pretty, did she love them, did Jem love her, if she was kind.

When Jem and Dill talk Scout into sneaking out of the house and going downtown one night to find out what Atticus is up to, it comes as no surprise that she darts through the lynch mob to take her place next to her daddy. While Atticus's courage and calm under pressure is impressive, it is Scout's singling out of Mr. Cunningham that leads to a resolution of the confrontation. "Hey, Mr. Cunningham," she says as he tries to blend back in with the crowd. "I go to school with your boy Walter." "Don't you remember me?" repeats Scout innocently until the man remembers himself and breaks up the crowd. The daughter acts as a foil here because although Atticus is displaying physical and moral bravery, it is Scout, the extrovert, who really saves the day by reaching out in a way no introvert could.

When we are introduced to Scout and Jem, we learn that they are not too impressed with their daddy. As Scout struggles to understand why Mr. Cunningham doesn't want to be thanked, Jem refuses to come down from a tree until his dad agrees to play football for the Methodists. Upon being told one more time that his father is just too old for that sort of thing, Jem protests that Atticus, as even his children call him, is too old for everything. A neighbor across the street tries to convince Scout and Jem that their daddy's ability to write a will so tight no one could break it is just as admirable a skill as playing football. She tells them to be grateful to have a father who knows himself. Is there any more astute observation one could make of an introvert? Both Jem and Scout agree that Atticus could explain anything to anybody, but they are looking for something more exciting from their daddy whose introversion leads him to downplay his talents and skills.

Scout and Jem's relationship to their father changes unexpectedly one day when a mad dog appears on their street. A strong theme of this story is violence. Atticus has been very firm with Scout, a tomboy, that she is not to settle her differences at school by fighting. We learn from Jem that he wants a gun which his daddy won't buy him. Imagine the children's reaction when Atticus is asked by the town sheriff to kill a rabid dog that's been menacing the neighborhood -- and he does so in one shot. "Didn't you know your daddy is the best shot in Maycomb County?" asks the sheriff of the stunned boy and girl.

This is the turning point of the kids' relationship to their father. When Walter Cunningham comes for lunch one day, he tells the Finches that he and his dad feed the family by hunting squirrel and rabbit. Atticus recalls his first gun and the advice his father gave him about it: shoot all the blue jays you want but never kill a mockingbird. Atticus speculates that it's because mockingbirds never do anything but sing for our enjoyment. This point is probably lost on Scout and Jem who think their father's reluctance to play football and buy a gun for Jem are reflections of his cowardice. They learn from the dog-shooting incident that Atticus is no coward. They had misinterpreted his restraint as fear. We, too, must interpret Atticus in light of this information. Is he an extrovert who knows his limits or an introvert who knows the value of action? Considering his reluctance to discuss the event with his children, Atticus is probably the latter.

Consider a few more incidents for proof of Atticus's introversion. When the town judge comes to ask if Atticus will take the case of Tom Robinson, the widower seems embarrassed by any small talk about his children. Atticus is obviously a private man who does not divulge his feelings easily. As the lawyer prepares to leave one night for Mrs. Robinson's house to deliver some bad news, Jem asks to come along. It's obvious that at such a difficult time, Atticus would prefer solitude - a sure sign of an introvert - although he does give in and let Jem accompany him out to the country. Probably most convincing to me is Atticus's poise and grace. When confronted with Mr. Ewell, the man behind the false accusation of Tom Robinson, Atticus is not rattled. Even when Mr. Ewell menaces Jem and spits in Atticus's face, the father tells his son not to be scared; "he's all bluff," the lawyer explains. Atticus's estimation of what Mr. Ewell is capable of turns out to be wrong, of course, but I take this as another reflection of Atticus's inward orientation. He greatly underestimates the decency of others in his community, including Mr. Ewell. Extroverts err in not knowing themselves well enough; introverts fall short by failing to know enough about others.

Considering the total picture of Atticus given in To Kill a Mockingbird, it's clear that he is an introvert. He is a shy, soft-spoken man, intensely private and self-possessed. He knows himself and his limits. While he demonstrates some extroverted characteristics like physical bravery and beautiful verbal articulation, he is far more introverted. He speaks only to communicate. He enjoys his solitude. He is a rarity in literature, as in life: an introvert who knows the value of taking action. This makes him a unique hero.

Atticus told his daughter one afternoon, "You can never really know a man until you walk in his shoes." By giving my child his name, I am asking him to walk in the shoes of a man named the No. 1 hero in movie history in a recent American Film Institute poll. Could any man be big enough to fill those shoes?

more reviews by Hadley Ajana