To Kill a Mockingbird. What can I say? I loved it, loved Scout, loved Atticus, loved Capernicus and Jem and Dill and Boo Radley. I loved following Dill, Scout, and Jem through a long summer in the deep South as they speculate about the town recluse Boo Radley. And when the kids are sitting in that hot, humid courtroom watching Atticus pace back and forth, take off his jacket, hook his thumbs under his suspenders - I could hardly breathe. The book didn't let up after the trial either. I stayed up late to finish the last bit. It was just a perfectly framed story and the pacing was brilliant. At times, it made me feel like I was in the midst of one of those deliciously long summers that only exist in childhood, where the days stretch on with nothing much to do, but during the trial and the fight scene, the pacing was break-neck. The only criticism I have about the book is that it felt a tad heavy handed at times, as when Scout compares the Southerners to the Nazis. I thought I could feel the author's presence there, standing over Scout's shoulder. But by then I could forgive her for anything. The brilliance of the book is the realistic, likable characters. Atticus is capable of living in a bigoted society - chatting on the corners about the damned Yankees, griping about the War of Northern Aggression, demanding that his children read books to a sickly old racist woman - despite his outrage and condemnation of their bigotry. How do you live in a society that is backward and get along with, even love, people whose beliefs conflict entirely with yours? That's the most universal struggle that exists. But the conflict of the book, large and life-threatening and heart-breaking as it is, never takes away from Scout's childhood, which includes all the wondrous things about childhood that I miss - the safety of a parent's love, the innocence, the adventure, the fun.