Now that J.D. Salinger is gone, Harper Lee might
be the most famous literary recluse in the United States.
In 1960, Lee published the Pulitzer
Prize-winning To Kill a Mockingbird, still one of the best-loved American books and required reading in 70 percent of
U.S. school systems.
During the same period, she helped Truman Capote
research In Cold Blood, started work on another novel and helped publicize the
1962 movie adaptation of Mockingbird (starring Gregory Peck).
By 1965, however, she had stopped appearing
publicly and refused to grant interviews. She has never published another book.
So, in 2001, when Chicago Tribune journalist
Marja Mills was sent to Lee’s hometown of Monroeville, Ala., to get background
on the town and its most famous resident, she wasn’t expecting to meet the
author.
To her surprise, when she rang Lee’s doorbell,
she was greeted by her older sister, Alice Finch Lee, who at the time was 89
and still practicing law every day. They had a long, comfortable chat, and the
next day, Mills was startled to receive a phone call from Alice’s sister, whose
full name is Nelle Harper Lee (Nelle to her friends).
“It was as if I had answered the phone and
heard: ‘Hello. This is the Wizard of Oz,’ ” Mills writes.
The two sisters and the journalist became close.
By 2004, Mills, who suffers from lupus, was experiencing so much pain and
fatigue that she could no longer work at the Tribune, and she decided to spend
more time in Monroeville researching the Lees.
Alice and Nelle suggested that the owner of the
house next door to theirs might be willing to put it up for rent.
Mills moved into the house — complete with a
deer head, a stuffed bobcat and another unidentifiable “crouching creature” —
and stayed for more than a year.
The Mockingbird Next Door details the time Mills
spent with the Lees and their friends, making daily expeditions to feed the
ducks, fishing for catfish with hot-dog chunks as bait, going to the Laundromat
and drinking coffee in Mills’ kitchen.
In a surprise turn of events this week, however,
Lee released a letter claiming that she never authorized Mills to publish anything about her.
The book is as far from an expose as one can
get. It’s a respectful and clear-eyed account that sticks to the apparent
boundaries that Lee set — which means that, among other things, it records only
Lee’s life in Monroeville, not in New York, where she continued to spend
several months a year for many years.
Not that it is sugar-coated.
Lee, 88, comes across as prickly, at best, and
capable of casual barbed remarks such as one about Capote, her former friend:
“Truman was a psychopath, honey.”
Mills counts herself lucky not to have been
subjected to the late-night, alcohol-fueled rants that many of Lee’s friends
said they have endured.
The book, despite its subject’s complaints,
should be a treat for anyone who has longed to get closer to Lee.
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