My Experience as a Wallflower

Dear friend,

The package was delivered around 6 pm. I started reading around 11 pm. I finished the book around 2:45 am. By 3 I was playing The Smiths and typing. 

Now to explain a little. A couple of weeks ago my cousin Sarah suggested that I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, saying “it was just...high school.” I’d heard of the book, never giving it much thought, but welcomed her recommendation as I trust her taste in most things and added it to my mental to-read list, with no real immediacy. A few days later I actually saw an image of the cover of the book and some sort of spell fell over me. Maybe it was the minimalist cover art or the greenieish green but something about actually seeing it gave me some sort of laser-focus on obtaining the book and reading it soon. 

My much annotated copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

I consulted my local public library system. No go. In an effort to attempt to save money that I don’t have to spend in the first place I visited a local used book store. No go there either. I even asked the kind proprietor and she hadn’t even heard of the book. (This doesn’t exactly speak well of her literary street-cred in my opinion. Sure, she shouldn’t be expected to know all the books, ever, but this one is somewhat established. It’s at least 10 years old. And the movie’s coming out next year. In retrospect I should have known better. This is one of those used book stores that doesn’t have an Existentialist Fiction section. They have a John Grisham section.) Ultimately, Amazon took care of business --- though I was disappointed that my copy’s clean, green cover was besmirched by a circle of blue touting the upcoming “major motion picture.” (Very reminiscent of The Catcher in the Rye’s cover, now that I’m thinking about it, but I’m guessing that’s what they were going for.) I’m sure young Ms. Watson will be fabulous, and I’m glad to see that the author is also the screenwriter and director, but I could have done with out the plug. (Also, whoever’s in charge of the soundtrack had better do the job right.)

From the second paragraph (honestly, the second paragraph) I was enthralled. Not because there’s some great mystery to figure out. Or some big denouement you see coming down the road. It was just lovely to read. I was also radiating thoughts pretty much the entire time I was reading --- not in a distracted way but in a......I don’t know exactly, just in a good way. Said thought radiation did make me go through half a stack of post-its and move directly from reading mode to writing mode as soon as I finished up on page 213. And even though there’s a fair amount of darkness in it, the whole “Wallflower experience” was...comforting...I guess? Except when I ran out of Kleenex on page 90.

Like Sarah said, it was high school. While I wouldn’t say the book “brought back memories” exactly, it did make me remember myself, or my mindset, or my mood(s) a little better I suppose. (Wow, I really did cry a lot. Sorry friends that had to clean me up, and what not.) It was more like I was reminded of that blissful freedom you would feel when you escaped the school parking lot with plans to spend your afternoon in Little Five rather than Ms. Yates’ class. Or how I still have buried in my closet a small box of mixtapes from different people that probably wouldn’t play on my stereo even if I still had a functioning tape player on it, but are treasured commodities nonetheless. Or how I really didn’t think that other people thought things about me, until I did.

Another thing that it jogged in my memory is a recent trip to the grocery store. I think I was buying wine and the cashier made a crack to the guy bagging the groceries that I’d brought them a present. Amusing for two reasons: One - the cashier was clearly under 21. Two - give my wine away? You kidding me? I said something along the lines of “I would if I could” (a lie). She said something about being able to buy her own when she’s legal, and I replied with a “yeah it’s much better on the other side of 21” which she agreed with but then her next line threw me: “But then when you get into your twenties everybody just wishes they were back in high school.” I was rather thrown. At this point we were at the “have a good night” stage of the check out process, so I gave no real response, but I was really surprised by what she said. 

I appreciate nostalgia and shared stories of old but I don’t think I’ve ever really had that feeling. Sure, I might like to go back and NOT fall down during that fire drill that one time, but a full-on wish-you-were-back-then thing I have not felt. But Miss Teen Grocery Store now has me wondering if that’s a common thing. I didn’t hate high school but my twenties kick the shit out of my time at AHS. And if I weren’t currently into what I think I’ll refer to as my “George Costanza Period” (no job, living with mom --- but not bald, at least) I’d say my thirties were off to a good start. Really, unless I can work out some sort of put-right-what-once-went-wrong thing, I don’t want to even touch my time in high school. Too much crying, too many chemicals, and poor bathroom options. (I do really miss my first car though.)

Me, approximately midway through high school.

All that being said, the sweet sadness that The Perks of Being a Wallflower gave me, combined with me actually contemplating and rejecting the idea of returning to high school have put me, oddly, into a nostalgic mood, which I think will lead to a handful of nostalgic post. I’m not talking about “this one time I found a pumpkin seatbelted into the passenger’s seat in my car” or “do you remember that time we got kicked out of the Taco Bell because of that story about the tampon” --- both highly entertaining instances, but not what I’m feeling right now. Though, who knows? That might change. 

Love always,

Carrie

Unburdening my soul...

Those who know me well might say that I have a somewhat casual relationship with the truth. While I don’t think of myself as a dishonest person by any means, I’m not shy about “writing fiction with my mouth” when there’s a need to jazz up a story, avoid an awkward situation, or even just for sport. And while I do think I have some skill, I’m very much of the use-your-power-for-good-not-evil school of thought. I won’t lie in regard to any serious matters, nor do I have any oppressively large or convoluted lies that I have to keep a handle on. Except one. And given that I’ve decided to do this whole blog-my-thoughts thing I’m going to attempt to kick things off with a declaration of honesty; until 4:51 am on August 15, 2011 I had never read To Kill A Mockingbird.

Now, even accounting for the fact that I’m a somewhat avid reader, it’s not really a big deal that I haven’t read any particular book, even one so universally read as this one. (Though the fact that I’m not only from the southland (Georgia not Alabama) and that I’m a lawyer does make me feel like quite the fraud. I’ve always hoped that the significant amount of Matlock episodes that I have absorbed would make up for this.) I’m still uncertain as to what sort of reception I would meet were I to walk into a room full of members of the Georgia Bar and announce my unfamiliarity with Atticus Finch. Putting aside the oddity of making literary confessions at a Continuing Legal Education seminar, I’m fairly certain it would elicit some strange looks, and possibly the revocation of my license to practice law. 

My dishonesty regarding To Kill A Mockingbird stretches back well beyond even my applications to law school, though I’m not entirely sure where it began. At some point it just became a socially accepted given that everyone had read To Kill A Mockingbird or at the very least, seen the movie (I still haven’t done that by the way.) I don’t recall ever actually telling anyone “yes, I’ve read that book” or anything so direct. It was more like nodding along in conversations about it. Making a reference to it here or there. I even discussed a business venture with a former coworker involving us opening a bar in Athens called Tequila Mockingbird (you know you love it) where our signature drink would be the Boo Radley (made up primarily of bourbon --- recipe’s still in the works.) The conversations would go on for a bit, but I’d gradually change the subject --- not too quick though, because that’s a dead giveaway that you’re hiding something. Over the years my secret, unimportant though it was, just grew increasingly overwhelming. I kept thinking that I had to read it, but I didn’t want to leave a “paper trail” so I couldn’t borrow it from anyone, and I didn’t want to buy it or check it out of the library because, of course, I should already own it and who wants to deal with the public shaming that would come when the lady at the Borders straight up asks me if I’ve read it before?

Thankfully, a series of recent events led me to actually run the gauntlet and read this book, releasing me from my cage of lies: my friend Jason pushing me to read The Hunger Games series, my new daily log project, and my soon-to-be cousin Harper’s forthcoming birth. 

Jason and The Hunger Games were kind of the spark for me. I won’t go into too much detail but in the books there are birds called mockingjays which are spawned from mockingbirds, and of course if you hear/read the word “mockingbird” and you’ve been living under an oppressive cloud of literary guilt you think To Kill A Mockingbird.

My log project (as in log book, not log cabin) is a really simple thing, but it seems to have had a profound effect on me. I saw somewhere online where this person had a bunch of index cards in a file, one for each day of the year, and on each card you write one thing that you did that day, but the twist is you cycle back through the cards year after year so eventually you have a card that says “August 15 2011 - Finished reading To Kill A Mockingbird. 2012 - Went to Sweetwater Creek State Park. 2013 - Defended the Earth from alien invaders." And so on. So in addition to just keeping track of your daily goings on, after you get the first year done, you’ll get a little blast from the past each year following. I’ve never been able to keep a journal for more than a few days, but this ‘one thing a day’ deal seemed much more manageable to me so I thought I’d try it, though I’ve gone with a journal instead of index cards. The way this fits in with To Kill A Mockingbird is that keeping track of what you do every day, even the mundane stuff, makes me want to do something at least moderately interesting. It’s been a real boost to my activities (I’m actually cleaning! A little.) And I decided that I should take advantage of my new found go-getterness and read this damn book.

My forthcoming cousin, Harper, is so named by her parents after Harper Lee herself. Also, I just think Harper is a pretty cool little name --- both cute and respectable for when she’s older and dominating in whatever career she so chooses. My Baby Harper related reasons are two fold. For one, I can’t meet this little girl and not have read her pseudo-namesake book --- I’d feel like a fraud all over again. And two, there are the future gifts I plan to bestow on her. I’m not going to drown the kid in Harper Lee related paraphernalia but of course there will be some nods to her (btw, her big brother is Henry David so he gets a bit of Thoreau love.) My current lack of employment/winning lottery ticket coupled with my genuine preference for making gifts means Harper’s likely to be getting some of my handiwork. I’m a fan of a good quote, particularly when rendered in some artsy-crafty way, but I don’t love pulling a blind quote out of context when you’re unfamiliar with the source. (To clarify, I love it when Jon Stewart does it, but that’s a whole different barrel of monkeys.) I needed to read the book so that I’d know what to make for Harper. 

Now, for the actual reading. Going in, I knew I was going to love the book. Yes, it’s a classic, but that doesn’t always result in you liking it. (I mean, have you read Ethan Frome?) Sometimes you just know that you’re going to bond with a book or a movie or even a city before you’ve ever laid eyes on it. I was not disappointed. 

Since everyone else in the world has read To Kill A Mockingbird I’ll skip a review of the story. (Though are there book reviews newly written for old books? I think it’d be a nice touch to slip those in among the stuff coming out today.) I will say that I was consistently charmed by Scout telling the story but her frequently not understanding what was going on. Also, I’m amazed that I hadn’t been spoiler-ed into knowing the major events of the book, the fates of Misters Robinson and Radley in particular. Also, I love the brother-sister dynamics between Scout and Jem. It only fuels my life-long desire for a brother. It also makes me glad that little Harper is going to have her big brother Henry to look out for her and aggravate her to pieces.

PS - Shortly after I finished writing the above I find myself watching Now and Then, a movie I have seen countless times, and I’m realizing now how very like Mockingbird the plot of the movie is. I’m probably going to start seeing it everywhere now.

My now read copy of Mockingbird, complete with post-it notations.