A Masterpiece of Deceit

DISCLAIMER:

The following is merely a frame that I have chosen to adapt, for the simple sake of rendering my review more interesting to write. Although I am currently subject to one Professor O., I would never dare to deliver to her such a missive as you are about to read.

Professor O.:

Although I have only experienced one session in your promising literature class, I thought that you might be interested in some of my recent findings. As a devoted bibliophile, I have taken immense delight in most of the English department’s survey courses—despite the limited time in which to cover several unique classics. Naturally, I was under the impression that your Contemporary American Literature course, spanning the post-Civil War era to the present, would be as insightful as the other courses.

Your syllabus instructs students to read the first twenty-three chapters of HUCKLEBERRY FINN for our next discussion. However, Professor O., I quickly realized that this is utterly impossible. The first paragraph of the first chapter makes a conspicuous reference to THE ADVENTURES OF TOM SAWYER. To read the second book in a series is equivalent to abridgement—a practice that I refuse to endure. Therefore, perfectionist that I am, I decided to investigate Tom Sawyer’s most excellent wisdom, in order to familiarize myself with Twain’s writing style. After two grueling days, I can easily surmise why you did not encourage students to start with Tom Sawyer. I only hope that I may be able to find more value in HUCKLEBERRY FINN than I did in TOM SAWYER.

In order that you may know to what extent I read this non-literary pulp novel, I here produce a brief summary for your enjoyment—if such books as Tom Sawyer may be truly relished. Tom is a young boy whose chief pleasure is to raise minor havoc. Although his age is difficult to determine, he is young enough to be the proud owner of a loose tooth. His adventures lead me to believe that he is ten or eleven.

Much to the dismay of his aunt Polly, Tom engages in several questionable practices: “hooking”—that is, stealing—food, administering fiery medication to the cat, and ultimately running away. He frequently fights boys, coerces them into doing his chores, and acts deceptively in order to obtain the goal of the moment. He is saved from utter inhumanity by a fondness for his friends and a tolerance of his loving but firm aunt.

Many of Tom’s daring exhibitions are intended to win the attentions of a young girl by the name of Becky. The couple’s relationship sustains many amusing trials, most of which result from anger, pride, and many communication blunders on Tom’s part.

Trifling matters such as these, however, are put aside as Tom becomes consumed with a sense of his own “abused” state and a profound need to rise to admirable heights in the sight of the boys. For several days, he and two companions run away to a secluded island, much to the despair of the boys’ relations. ‘Tis well for American society that young children are not often exposed to this running-away concept.

The book takes a serious turn when Tom and his friend Huckleberry embark on a midnight wart-curing expedition. In a somber graveyard, they witness a chilling murder, only to hide the matter from the town. Ought Tom to testify in court against the guilty party, or shall an innocent man be condemned to death?

Further complicating matters is Tom’s boyish desire to locate buried treasure—whether in a haunted house, under a broken tree limb, or in a cave. As Tom and “Huck Finn” attempt to unearth gold and silver, they meet with extraordinary danger. Several lives—their own, and those of certain honest citizens—are jeopardized. Without giving away the ending, suffice it to say that the aforementioned murder and the quest for riches are connected. On that note, the book reaches an abrupt—though welcome—conclusion.

I daresay, Professor O., that you are somewhat shocked by my reckless demolition of this book. Seldom must an English major challenge the literary critics by classifying a time-honored novel as pulp fiction; why, to do so would be preposterous! However, I find this work entirely void of literary value. Considering the excellent standards set forth by many acclaimed nineteenth-century writers, Twain’s language is mediocre by comparison. Twain’s words contain nothing of the poetic, make allusions only to childish, popular culture (such as stereotypes about pirates), and contain little in the way of variety save endless slang on the part of the characters. While some dialectic replication has its place, the overall affect of the language in TOM SAWYER is simply childish.

Moreover, this “literary œvre” is fraught with irreverence and superstition. Tom’s spells, notions of ghosts, and belief in mystic wart-cures is boundless. He dislikes church with a passion; as Bill Gaither was known to remark, “Mark Twain … certainly couldn’t be accused of harboring any sympathies toward Christianity”.

The unrealistic adventure and abrupt conclusion render this book entirely implausible. For a non-fantasy genre, I do not feel that this book’s plot qualifies as at all literary.

With regards to the oft-raised issues of race and stereotyping, I scarcely found that this book conveyed enough of either to be controversial. True, the N-Word is occasionally employed, but racial challenges do not comprise the plot. This book is pure adventure and churlish childhood antics, with a bit of inconsequential racial commentary thrown in.

"But," says your professorial heart, "this work might encourage younger children to read." Indeed, it might be suitable inspiration for young boys. However, it may scarcely be seen to comprise morals that parents would like their youngsters to learn. So, a young boy might benefit from this if he is trapped upon a desert island with nothing whatsoever to entertain him.

Well do I know why this book does not appear on the syllabus: it is no more literature than is an early work by Shadwell. Now then, if you will excuse me, I must conquer Twain’s sequel, in the sincere hopes that THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN will prove more palatable.

Sincerely,

Nicole Brunswycke