Atticus Finch: American literature’s most celebrated rape apologist

With the increasing focus on sexual assault, if “To Kill A Mockingbird” were taught in women’s studies classes today, Finch would have to be labeled the villain of the book for not accepting at face value an accuser’s tale of rape and for posing difficult, painful questions to her on the witness stand.

Finch was the defense attorney for Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a white woman, Mayella Ewell. Ewell and her father both claimed that Robinson beat and raped her, but Finch dared question the account.

He was hostile toward Heck Tate, a witness for the prosecution who was the first person the Ewells called to the scene. Never mind that Tate didn’t actually witness the alleged rape — he was testifying on behalf of an alleged rape victim, and thus should have been treated with more compassion.

Instead, Finch insisted and demanded to know why neither Tate nor the Ewells called a doctor following the reported incident.

“It wasn’t necessary,” Tate told Finch. “She was mighty banged up. Something sho’ happened, it was obvious.”

Rape kits were not available in the early 1930s, when Ewell’s alleged rape occurred. But if we were to look at this as a modern tale of victim-blaming, questioning an alleged victim (or her witnesses) about why she didn’t immediately go to a doctor would be heresy.

Then Finch began trying to poke holes in Tate’s description of the night the alleged rape occurred. Finch asked Tate to describe Ewell’s injuries — he even asked which of her eyes was bruised. Tate first said it was Ewell’s left eye, but Finch, practically badgering him at this point, made him rethink his answer, which he changed.

Next on the stand was Ewell’s father, Bob. The Ewells had been described as low-class degenerates. “No truant officers could keep their numerous offspring in school; no public health officer could free them from congenital defects, various worms, and the diseases indigenous to filthy surroundings,” the description read. Feminists would question whether that made them less deserving of justice.

Even the judge was hostile, putting Bob in his place right out of the gate after he made a subtle joke about his deceased wife. When Bob described the screams his daughter made on the night of the alleged rape as sounding “like a stuck hog inside the house,” the judge gave him a stern look of disapproval. How was Bob supposed to feel comfortable and sufficiently supported to testify about the horrifying rape of his daughter, today’s activists might ask. It was as if the entire judicial system was rigged against him and his daughter from the beginning.

Bob explained that he heard his daughter scream and rushed to her, only to find Robinson sexually assaulting her. Bob said the room looked like there had been a fight and his daughter was lying on the floor. He said Robinson ran as soon as he was seen, but Bob knew it was him.

Then Finch began questioning Bob, with the same hostility he had provided Tate. Finch tried to poke holes in Bob’s description as well, asking why the father of an alleged rape victim didn’t immediately call for a doctor since his daughter was injured.

Bob said he had never called a doctor before and mentioned that it would have cost him $5. Bob also said he stood by Tate’s description of his daughter’s injuries.

Then, in a stunning display of condescension, Finch actually asked Bob whether he could read and write. Finch even asked Bob to prove it by writing his name.

“You’re left-handed, Mr. Ewell,” the judge said, yet again doing Finch’s job for him and badgering a witness. How dare Finch and the judge embarrass the father of an alleged rape victim in front of his peers, today’s activists would surely grumble.

Finally, Mayella Ewell took the stand and began crying. The judge, finally doing his job, tried to calm her down and asked her why she was afraid. Ewell pointed to Finch.

“Don’t want him doin’ me like he done Papa, tryin’ to make him out lefthanded,” Ewell said through tears.

The judge tried to be reassuring, but he just came off as a patriarchal victim-blamer again, telling Ewell that she was “a big girl” and to “just sit up straight” and tell the court what happened.

Ewell said she asked Robinson to help her chop up an old chiffarobe for kindling, and that she would pay him a nickel for his trouble. She said that when she went into the house for the nickel, Robinson grabbed her by the neck and hit her before raping her.

Now it was the prosecution’s turn to indulge in victim-blaming. Horace Gilmer, the prosecuting attorney, actually asked Ewell whether she screamed and whether she fought back. What kind of question is that? Gilmer must have been trying to show the victim-blamers in the jury that Ewell fought back against her accused rapist, but even asking the question puts the onus on the victim to prove she was actually raped. And if she didn’t fight back hard enough — and who is to say how hard one must fight to be considered “enough” — then the implication is that Ewell couldn’t have been raped, is it not?

Ewell, now having to prove she was raped (instead of the burden rightfully being placed on Robinson that he didn’t rape), said she “kicked and hollered loud” as she could.

That apparently wasn’t enough to satisfy Gilmer, who asked her whether she had fought as hard as she could. Ewell again said she had.

Gilmer then asked Ewell whether she was sure she had been raped. Seriously, today’s activists would ask, how is he still allowed to practice law asking questions like that?

Then it was time for Finch to question Ewell. He stood up and at first didn’t even walk over to Ewell, instead going to the window. He paused before going to Ewell and asking her to repeat her age. He also told her he’d ask her questions she had already been asked. And when Ewell complained that she was being made fun of, the judge told her she was wrong. As today’s gender studies professors might ask, when did it become a judge’s place to tell an alleged rape victim how to feel?

Then came Finch’s questions. He was clearly trying to show that Ewell had a terrible home life — the implication being that she somehow deserved to be raped or brought it on herself. Finch even asked whether Ewell had any friends!

Finch then asked Ewell whether her father ever hit her, as if that had any relevance. Tom Robinson was on trial, not Ewell and not her father.

Finch asked whether Ewell had ever invited Robinson onto the property to help her before. Again, this is more victim-blaming. Just because Ewell may have invited Robinson onto her property before does not give him the right to rape her.

Finch then continued trying to poke holes in the story by questioning every minute detail about the account, as if anything Ewell didn’t remember was somehow evidence she hadn’t been raped.

“You seem sure enough that he choked you,” Finch said. “All this time you were fighting back, remember? You ‘kicked and hollered as loud as you could.’ Do you remember him beating you about the face?”

Mayella Ewell had gone through a traumatic event in which she was punched in the face. Just because she didn’t remember that punch doesn’t mean she was lying, today’s college women would be taught.

Finch asked her again when she didn’t answer. Ewell then said she didn’t remember whether Robinson hit her, but quickly changed her story to say he did hit her. Then she cried.

The brain reacts to trauma in unpredictable ways. Just because an accuser’s story changes doesn’t mean there’s evidence of a lie — activists never let us forget this fact. For all we know, Robinson could have held Ewell with his right hand and punched her with his left, which would have accounted for her right eye being bruised.

Finch then forced Ewell to look right at her alleged attacker, even asking Robinson to stand up. Robinson had a deformed left arm, and maybe he couldn’t have punched her on the right side of her face. But should a detail like this one take away from the anguish that rape victims suffer?

Finch again abused Ewell on the stand by asking her to consider the chain of events that night “calmly.” Should an alleged rape victim be required to recount her tale without tears, an activist might wonder. Wouldn’t she then be questioned about her lack of emotion?

Finch made Ewell run through her traumatic experience yet again and tried to trip her up by asking whether Robinson hit her left eye with his right fist. As if a rape victim was paying attention to such a detail. Finch is lucky she remembers anything at all.

Then Finch really got into victim-blaming mode. He pointed out that Ewell was “a strong girl” and asked whether she just stood there while Robinson raped her. He asked why she didn’t run (see, he didn’t think she fought back hard enough); why, if she had screamed, her brothers and sisters didn’t run to her aid; he asked whether she was screaming the whole time or just when she saw her father through the window and then dared to ask her whether it was her father who actually beat her up.

Ewell, fed up with practically being accused of asking to be raped, called the white men of the court “yellow stinkin’ cowards.”

Conversely, Finch was completely cordial to Robinson — an alleged rapist, mind you. Finch asked Robinson politely what his age was and about his past criminal record (Robinson had been in jail previously).

But then Finch allowed Robinson to tell his side of the story with little prodding or interruption, in direct contrast to how he treated Ewell. Robinson claimed he had broken the chiffarobe in the spring, not in November like Ewell said. Robinson said that had been the first time he helped Ewell and that she kept asking him for help after that.

Robinson said Ewell invited him onto her property the night he allegedly raped her. He didn’t see any manual labor that needed to be done like there usually was, and that Ewell told him a door was broken inside the house. He said he checked the door but it was fine, but Ewell closed the it in his face.

Normally the Ewell house would be loud, Robinson said, because there were so many children, but that night there were none. Robinson said Ewell told him she had sent the children into town.

Robinson claimed he tried to leave since there was no work for him, but Ewell asked him to get a box down from a chiffarobe (not the same one he had broken). Robinson said when he was standing on the chair reaching for the box that Ewell grabbed him around his legs. He jumped off the chair, knocking it over.

After some gentle coaxing from Finch and the judge, Robinson said Ewell hugged his waist and kissed the side of his face, telling him she had never kissed a man before — well, except her father. Ewell allegedly told Robinson to kiss him back and prevented him from leaving by blocking the door.

Robinson claimed he pushed Ewell and told her to let him pass, but then Bob showed up and called Ewell a “whore.” Robinson said he ran out the door.

Asked point-blank, Robinson said he did not rape or harm Ewell, but that he resisted her advances. That’s as clear a case of victim-blaming as you’ll ever find.

So what if Robinson couldn’t have hit Ewell’s right eye with his deformed left fist? The facts of the case don’t matter as much as the narrative, which is that Robinson raped Ewell and there is a rape epidemic.

The jury saw through Finch’s patriarchal rationalizations and found Robinson guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. This is the sort of verdict that today’s advocates want to see more often.

As for Finch, he is a villain. He might as well have raped Ewell himself.