Thoughts

[[deleted user]]

- I remember hearing somewhere once that when you settle down to read a book, you are preparing to embark on a conversation with the author. And if that be so, one could do a lot worse than spend some time with Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens). Known for being anti-slavery in an era where that notion wasn't purely a given amongst the majority of Americans, Twain weaves these tensions and attitudes bluntly into his characters- even our protagonists. I appreciated that, especially as a fan of history. There was no hiding from the prejudices of Tom Sawyer's community, and that's part of the immersion process. That's an integral part of the conversation with the author, and Twain never shies away from it. It lingers amongst the village like an uneasy spectre. It's part of the conversation. Alongside the stereotypes of the 1800's, readers are also gifted glimpses into the fantastical superstitions of the South in St. Petersburg, Missouri. Dead cats tied to strings, dreams of rats, ill omens of Fridays all place us in a time far different than our own. How different the country looks separated by a mere 150 years.

- I read several reviews of Tom Sawyer, all which in one form or another portray this novel as a type of "chronicles of a naughty boy". I never got the sense that Tom was particularly naughty, but that Twain had simply written a character so well that he was unmistakably human. He is labeled naughty because we see ourselves in him, and often in the times when he is most carefree, mischevious, immature and curious. The spectacles of him acting out, running wild, behaving generally crazy to gain the affections of adolescent crushes- that was me. I did that. Mark Twain is reflecting this in the character of Tom Sawyer, and the story becomes intimate. I read many casual reviews lambasting the book for lacking a strong plot. I suppose this could be true, but does a plot need to be the strength or meaning behind every tale? With Tom Sawyer, I felt what Twain was attempting to do with his main cast- Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher, Joe Harper, Ben Rogers- was to invoke in us reminiscence to our own youths, both joy and melancholy, through the moments of his characters. Tom Sawyer's misery at painting his aunt's fence on a Saturday... Joe Harper's sickness at smoking too much tobacco... Huck Finn's reluctance to save money armed with the knowledge his alcoholic father would blow through it all... Amy Lawrence and Becky Thatcher trading jealous moments of frustration and sadness felt by young girls... These moments may not necessarily be plot points, but they are windows into the more subtle moments of our own personal histories, moments as adults we can transport back to if only for a page. In this sense, how meaningful truly is this conversation about Tom Sawyer with author Twain as it correlates with our own childhood journeys?

- I took each chapter bit by bit, as at times a chapter was a one-off story never to be returned to again. Forgetful Tom's collecting of Sunday school tickets to redeem for a Bible, purely for fame, then being made to answer questions of Scripture for honorary guest Judge Thatcher despite not knowing a thing about the Good Book is hilarious. And, never really mentioned again outside that chapter. Each chapter holds a semi-conversation, each chapter holds a salient point of sarcasm, satire, and comedy by our author. And, I was blessed to have gotten to know Twain well. Yet, outside his wit, Twain pens some incredibly powerful passages as well. Passages that really made me call out to him to pause, while I mulled over his words. To this point, I leave you with this passage about the life of a stalagmite, of all things, and see if it doesn't grab you as it relates to our own temporary histories:

"In one place near at hand, a stalagmite had been slowly growing up from the ground for ages, builded by the water-drip from a stalactite overhead. The captive had broken off the stalagmite, and upon the stump had placed a stone, wherein he had scooped a shallow hollow to catch the precious drop that fell once in every three minutes with the dreary regularity of a clock tick- a dessert spoonful once in four and twenty hours. That drop was falling when the Pyramids were new; when Troy fell; when the foundations of Rome were laid; when Christ was crucified; when the Conqueror created the British Empire; when Columbus sailed; when the massacre at Lexington was "news". It is falling now; it will still be falling when all these things shall have sunk down the afternoon of history, and the twilight of tradition, and been swallowed up in the thick night of oblivion."

-Now, that's bully.