My 'Go Set A Watchman' Experience

Okay, I finished the much heralded 'Go Set A Watchman', which is the sequel to the classic 'To Kill A Mockingbird' today, whilst I was on an exercise bike at the gym where I drag my middle aged carcass several times a week.  Thankfully, there were some young men there today.  Not because I wanted to perve, nay, they were not my type. My gratitude stems from the fact one of them loosened the section of the leg curl so I could adjust the cushioned area, and slide my calves under it, and ergo do some leg curls to exercise the old glutes.  I was very thankful to this  young man, because the thing was still wedged tight from whoever the meat-headed flog was who tightened it beyond all laws of physics last week.  The young man, reasonably robust of bicep, actually had trouble dislodging it.  And if he had trouble, then I ran the grave risk of dislodging an internal organ.  I'm sure he went home and said he'd done his good deed for the day, i.e., helping out a senior citizen at the gym.

But yes, I sat on the exercise bike and read the final pages.  My verdict?  Enjoyable.  I love the narrative style, and I enjoyed the interesting character development where - POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT - Jean Louise (she's Jean Louise now, not Scout) realises her father is a man with feet of clay.  As a writer, I know it is important to have characters grow, and not be two dimensional.  I suppose had Atticus remained the paragon, he might have been a bit, well, two-dimensional.  Don't get me wrong; he's not evil in this one or anything like that.  He's just, well, human.  But I loved my Atticus from the first one.  When lecturing on any aspect of creative writing, I often use 'Mockingbird' as an example to illustrate my point.  A particular favourite of mine is when having characters in a tricky situation, an unknown talent in a character can save the day.  Of course, I refer to the scene where there is a rabid dog meandering down the street, and everyone is shit scared, and Sheriff Heck Tate and Atticus Finch are in the street, and to his children's amazement, Atticus is handed a gun by the sheriff who says, 'You take him, Mr Finch.'  'Why Heck, I haven't shot a gun in twenty years.'  'Well, I'd feel mighty comfortable if you did now.' And he does.  And the children gawp.  And the Sheriff says with a grin to Jem Finch, 'What's the matter, boy?  Didn't you know your daddy was the best shot in Maycomb Country?'  And I just love it.  And I just love the courtroom scene.  And I just love Atticus.  But as a writer and a reader, I respect the decision and direction taken by Harper Lee in this book.  Still, I did love those parables and adages from the first one.  'Let the dead bury the dead, Mr Finch'.  'Why Scout, you never really know a person until you've walked around in his skin.'  Hey, in regards to that second one, could that be where Buffalo Bill in 'Silence of the Lambs' got inspiration?  Heh-heh.

Would I read it again?  Most likely.

Now, next on my reading list is another sequel of sorts, and it relates to the lamentable 'Fifty Shades Of Utter Crap On A Page, um, Grey' book.  It's 'Grey', and it's told from the POV of the knot-tying fuck-up that is Christian Grey.  I've read about five pages thus far, and got dizzy from my rolling eyes.  I will persevere, and no doubt deal myself an uppercut for doing so.  I have never actually thrown a book across the room, but I almost did with the first one in this series. 

Guilty pleasure of the day: I've been listening to 'Yellow River' by the Aussie band Autumn.  So sue me.