Banned Books

Last year, I signed up for a subscription to “The Great Courses,” which I’ve been enjoying a great deal. I tend to listen in the car on my way home from work or when I’m travelling to an event that I’m going to set up at.

If you’re not familiar with Great Courses, it’s a company that offers some really amazing and varied courses. And for the cost of your subscription, you can listen to—or watch—any of them. For me, it’s been listening. I tend to go back and forth from courses about great books, such as an entire course dedicated to Dante’s Divine Comedy (which I found enthralling) to history, such as the Roman Republic and its sister-course, the Roman Empire.

Recently, I listened to one about banned books.

Prior to that, though, I had something happen which set me off in that direction.

As any of you who have read my books know, I tend to write “clean.” By that, I mean I don’t curse much, there’s no explicit sex scenes, not even much gore. I have no real problem with those things, and will happily read books containing any of it, as long as I like the story and the writing. It’s simply not the way that I’ve chosen to write.

Having said that, I was set up at a show in the early spring. It doesn’t really matter which show or where it was. At the back of my booth, I had a 6-foot-tall stand-up banner that advertises my Lilly the Necromancer omnibus, “Life With the Dead.”  It features a young, blond woman as Lilly, and the tag line, “When the dead rise, don’t tell anyone it’s your fault.”

I thought it was funny when I came up with it. And a lot of people who have walked by over the years laugh at it. That’s all it is.

Well. I was watching as one woman started to walk by, read the banner, then stopped and shook her head, her frown deepening. I didn’t say anything. To each their own. Or so I would think.

She glanced at me, then said, “I know you saw me out here shaking my head.”

“I did,” I politely replied.

She gestured at my sign. “I just don’t understand why people have to do all this sort of stuff.”

“What sort of stuff?” I was truly curious as to what she thought she was looking at.

In a tone of pure disgust. “All this witchcraft and stuff like that.”

“Actually,” I responded, still staying pleasant. “Everything I write is just fantasy. None of it’s real. I’m not trying to push any sort of agenda or belief. I just try to tell a good story.”

She frowned deeper, then pointed at the first book of “The Black Friar Quest.”

“I see you have demons right there.”

She wasn’t wrong. The book is titled “How to Trick a Demon.”

“True,” I told her. “But the demons in those books are like a race of fantasy monsters, not really from a Christian Hell or anything. They don’t like elves and elves don’t like them.”

I laughed when I said this, to try to get her to lighten up a bit, but… no luck.

“I don’t like it. It’s not something I’m going to be reading.”

At this point, I have to admit, I was already getting a little tired of the judgmental attitude.

“That’s fine,” I told her. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I’m a big believer in people being allowed to read what they like, though.”

She blessed me, which somehow sounded sarcastic, and walked off.

Here’s the thing. That’s not the first time this has happened. Not to me, and not to other authors I know who sell their books at live events. People will stop, just to purposely tell us that they don’t approve of our books or our covers or whatever. It’s always struck me as a little odd.

So, fast-forward to a few weeks ago when I started listening to “Forbidden Literary Works,” the course I mentioned above.

The sheer number and variety of books that have been banned over the years, by schools, governments, parents’ groups, and others is mind-boggling. Starting all the way back with Shakespeare, who has been subject to censorship since he first wrote his plays.

Before listening, I was an avid believer that no book should be banned, ever. Quite frankly, I still am. However, that doesn’t mean that I feel that every book is suitable for every person, especially when it comes to children.

Kids’ books have come under challenge more than any other group, by a large margin. A lot of the challenges to them have come from a place of caring, I believe; a desire to protect young minds from concepts, situations, or language that they might not be ready for yet. I can agree with that.

I’ve never read the book “Lolita.” I thought I had an idea of what it was about, but it turns out to be much more distressing than I thought it was (and what I’d thought was bad enough). It’s never been a book I really cared to read, no matter how much some might call it one of the greatest novels of all time.

But—and this is the “but” that I think my friend at the spring show didn’t understand—just because I don’t want to read it doesn’t mean others can’t. Do I feel it should be assigned as required reading in a high-school class? I don’t. I do, however, think it should be available in the library or bookstores. Some kids are more mature than others. Some parents would allow it to be read, and I don’t really think an eighteen-year-old needs to be told what they can and can’t read, anyway.

The professor made a very good case for why some of these books are taught in schools. Books that involve racism or class-struggle or gender identity. It’s a way for kids to be exposed to experiences that are not their own, which in my humble opinion is a good thing. It’s also a place where these things can be discussed in a controlled, mature environment.

All well and good, but—this post is just full of “buts,” isn’t it?—I can also see why some parents take umbrage with it. There is something about your child being exposed to ideas you’d rather not have them be, before you are ready to address it with them.

The issue with that is, your kid is going to learn about this stuff whether you like it or not. Maybe not from a book that you find distasteful, maybe not from a movie you don’t want them to watch, but they will be. At a friend’s house, on the bus, in the hallways. Somewhere.

Which brings me back to my friend above. She didn’t really care what I had to say. She had made up her mind as soon as she laid eyes on my book covers. There would be no convincing her, not that my books were not unsuitable for decent human consumption, and not for anyone she knew, either. They simply should not have ever been written or sold.

So, where does all this lead?

To a great big, “I have no idea.”

At least for some of it, like “Lolita.” The story sounds repugnant to me. I say sounds because I haven’t read it. I’m not likely to. In that respect, I’m similar to that woman.

The difference between us is that I’m okay with you reading it. If you want to explain to me why it’s not really vile, why it deserves the praise it’s received over the years, I’m willing to listen with an open mind. Maybe you’ll convince me to give it a shot. Or not.

What I can guarantee you, though, is that I’ll back your ability to check-out or buy a copy for yourself.

Which is what it all really boils down to. When did it become okay to tell other people what they can and can’t do, simply based on what one “believes?” Not crimes, not things that hurt people, but simply because one doesn’t like it.

Make your own choices. Make informed choices for your children.

Let the rest of us read what we want to.