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The School. Reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird' in Russia

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-Ponyatno ( I see- MS) – said Kolya, “It is a social book. Our folks here only translate the books which describe the tough life in the capitalistic society. Negroes are oppressed in America, right? In this book that Negro Robinson was accused of something I do not fully comprehend and found guilty. I also do not understand why that guy Ewell attacked the kids after that. And what is with that Boo? Strange book.”

-Alabama, where is it?

-I’ve got a map. Here, it is, down South, close to Florida.

-South, huh? Remember in that movie ‘The Circus’ that white woman had a child from a Negro and she had to flee because of all those Southerners. She had to flee up to here. --When was it?

-In the 30s, before the war. Guess what, you’re right- this book is also about that time. Remember how they talked about Hitler and stuff. Funny, for them Hitler was something so far away.

We looked around. The Red Corner was full of war photos, memorabilia of our grandfathers, their uniforms, group photos on the tanks, in the German cities, etc. Hitler, yes, we knew about him.

- OK, let’s go home. Too bad we have no Negroes here to ask about this book.

-My cousin Tanka, she knows some of them. Those are foreign exchange students, We can ask her to bring one. It will cost us a box of chocolates.

4. The Negro

The man was very tall. He towered over petite Tanka like a giant from the fairy-tales. And he knew Russian. His name was William and he was from South Africa.

-You said you needed a guy from the South,- said Tanka,”Where are my chocolates?”

-Here, choke on them!. What’s the use if he is not from the US?

-I know this book,-William said. He took it from me and started turning pages slowly, deliberately. I noticed that he had remarkable hands: slim, long- fingered, like those hands we were shown in the museum of arts.

-I know this book, he said again, “It’s a book of Death.”

-What Death. That Ewell dude?

- And Tom Robinson, and Mrs. Dubose, and love and justice and that dog. They all died. And one man became a murderer.

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A writer is a rogue goose. All other gees fly in a flock formation; every goose knows his place and time for honking. The rogue goose is undisciplined. He leaves the formation indiscriminately to have a look at it from aside. He roams back and (more...)
 

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I see...I think... by mikel paul on Wednesday, Aug 6, 2008 at 5:59:57 PM
Soroka by Oh on Thursday, Aug 7, 2008 at 7:57:14 AM
Mark by Jan Baumgartner on Thursday, Aug 7, 2008 at 11:51:38 AM
wow by Cheryl Biren on Wednesday, Aug 13, 2008 at 2:20:17 PM
Thanks by Mark Sashine on Wednesday, Aug 13, 2008 at 7:10:31 PM
What a treat! by Mikhail Lyubansky on Saturday, Sep 6, 2008 at 10:38:43 PM