I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett and I was heartbroken to read the last sentence. Not because the last sentence was particularly sad, but because it was the LAST sentence. It’s not often I’ve been so sad to see a book end. Some books have practically elicited a “Hurrah! It’s over!” - like Atlas Shrugged - an interesting, incredibly long-winded book that I never want to read again. Or Henry James. Have you ever actually read Henry James? Take my word for it. Read Stephen King instead.
The Help was delightful from beginning to end. Stockett managed to give so much life to her characters that I could practically feel them standing next to me. Having grown up in Nashville and being a History major, I am always drawn to historical stories but many times the history takes over the story. Stockett manages to tell a small part of Civil Rights history in a way that feels like you are right there with Abilene, Skeeter and Minny. I was so thrilled to read a book that made me laugh, cry, chuckle, and fume. The story elicits the feel of the 1960’s and the changing times without being heavy-handed.
Mrs. Stockett, I applaud you. And I thank you.
I promptly gave the book to my fourteen year old daughter to read. I can barely wait for her to feel the sadness when she finishes it.
