Mob Vs Man in Huckleberry Finn and To Kill a Mockingbird

Huck Finn and Scout Finch are two of the most memorable and endearing storytellers in American literature. One of the reasons they offer such fresh perspectives on the world is that they are still at an age where wiping your hands on the tablecloth is a forgivable offense. In other words, the fact that they are only partially “civilized” not only gives them an alien perspective on community, adulthood, and social conventions, but also allows them to criticize their findings with a certain level of immunity.

While the two stories have a lot of thematic overlap (i.e. boisterous preteen storytellers dealing with racism and social conditioning), one of the most interesting points of comparison is their depiction of the crowd mindset, which is inherently tied to the broader general social behavior that Huck and Scout are actively resisting. In Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, a mob of lynch mobs develops in response to the gunshot of a good-natured drunkard. Gathering makeshift weapons and clotheslines, a faceless, leaderless crowd huddles in the front yard of the shooter, Colonel Sherburn, who then proceeds to do … absolutely nothing.

Sherburn looks over the crowd and laughs and comments that “a MAN is safe in the hands of ten thousand of his kind, as long as it is daylight and you are not behind him.” Sherburn then explains that a mob is a) the “most pitiful” thing on earth, b) it only succeeds if at least one real “man” is present, and c) “UNDER mercy” without any man leading it. With the spell broken, the crowd disperses like cockroaches, including Huck (though he insists he “could stay if [he] wanted “).

Instead of appealing to the individual humanity of its inhabitants, Sherburn uses the fact that they are a crowd against him; By reminding all members that their power is borrowed from their numbers, Sherburn becomes the strongest person present by default. And because the mob lacks so much as an individual figure in which to look for direction (or use as a psychological scapegoat), everyone realizes their own cowardice (not to mention guilt) in the matter.

To Kill a Mockingbird offers a very different description of mob psychology. Scout Finch’s father, Atticus, has a run-in of his own after agreeing to defend a black man in a 1930s Alabama courthouse. Expecting trouble one particular night, Atticus stands guard for his client outside the jail door and does not he is too shocked when four cars pull up full of angry men. Although he stands his ground, Scout and Jem unexpectedly collide on the scene before we get a chance to see if Atticus prevails.

Picking the familiar face of Mr. Cunningham from the crowd, Scout tries to strike up a friendly conversation in the way that only a seven-year-old can, but because her proposals for friendship are incredibly out of place. , everyone is stunned in silence. Racking her head on topics, Scout tries to discuss the legal problems of Mr. Cunningham as well as his son (who was “very nice” about the fact that Scout “hit him once”) before finally getting him to speak. . Finally remembering the fact that he is a father, a family friend, and a human being, Mr. Cunningham comes to his senses, acknowledges Scout’s greetings, and tells the mob to end the night.

In contrast to the Sherburn mob, Atticus’s mob dismantles itself by reminding him that it is not just an anonymous group; every man in him is the father, brother, uncle, son, husband, friend, etc. someone, just like Atticus Finch himself. Furthermore, the fact that the daughter of their future victim is not only unable to conceive of what they intend to do, but also wants to make friends is a surprising splash of water all over their faces.

However, in the event that you don’t have an adorable seven-year-old on hand, simply calling everyone a bunch of cowards is fine too.