This post was originally published at the Mad Genius Club on June 3, 2017. The situation has not improved.
There was an amusing bit of fallout after my post last week. You would think that calling for recommendations of books for a pair of young ladies would hardly be controversial, yes? I mean, I don't know about you, but there are few things I like more than a chance to talk about books I have known and loved since I was a girl. I was just comparing notes last night on social media with a friend about how nice it is to go wayback into memories and read authors like Grace Livingston Hill, LM Montgomery, Georgette Heyer, and others for sweetness and happiness in what seems to be an ever-more bitter world.
But I digress a little. I had occasion, after an angry accusation was made, to look up what the word censorship meant. I thought I knew what it meant, after all, but I wanted to be sure, because what it was being used about wasn't what I'd have defined as censorship...
Censorship is the suppression of speech, public communication, or other information that may be considered objectionable, harmful, sensitive, politically incorrect or inconvenient as determined by governments, media outlets, authorities or other groups or institutions.
So why was I being accused of being a censor by an incensed reader? because I and others were including warnings about books containing graphic and potentially inappropriate content, in a discussion about books for preteen children. So parents who want to know what is in their children's books are guilty, according to this person, of censorship. It's not the first time I've been accused of censoring content for my children's sakes. When I wrote about the prevalence of what can only be called victim worship, or torture porn, in YA books, I was blasted for my stance against the graphic portrayal of abuse. I responded to that with science, laying out the fact that children need tools to cope, yes, but glorifying pain (and suicide, as in the recent Netflix hit 13 Reasons) is not a good thing for those who are trying to crawl out of the abyss. So why do I take this unpopular stance?
Perhaps because as a culture we now embrace pop stars who writhe all but naked on the stage, books that advocate ephebephilia and incest, but reject values, morals, and chivalry? I am not a perfect person, but I do believe that there should be personal responsibility in this world, a duty to protect the children, and the honor to stand up to bullies in any form or age.
I'm a mother who now has three teens and one almost-teen under her roof. Do I say 'you can't read that!' and yank a book out of their bewildered hands? (and how do you confuse hands... oh, never mind) Am I truly a censor, using this blog as my 'group or other institution' to suppress information?
Not.
Actually, I think I can successfully argue that rather than censoring those books, I am doing the opposite. I am adding information to them, not blacking the 'bad bits' out. It's no different than the rating systems we use for films and video games. Something meant for mature consumption is possibly acceptable for some who are younger, but that's something their parents need to make a decision on. Not I, and certainly not the incen(sor)ed reader who was indignant that we were talking smack about books she read as a young girl and didn't see any harm at all in.
I'll tell a little story on my girls, here. When my Otaku Princess (who now adores anime and anything DC Comics-related) was a small girl-child with silky copper penny hair, she was absolutely terrified of a G-rated cartoon. It gave her nightmares every time her siblings watched it (we owned it on VHS, to date it) and she would run crying from the room when the gnomes appeared in this made-for-TV animation of Ozma of Oz. On the other hand, my Jr. Mad Scientist was taken to see Batman: The Dark Knight when she was only six years old by a doting great-grandfather who undoubtedly thought he was taking the tiny nut-brown girl to an Adam West show, all Bop! Bam! Biff! and he never even looked to see it was rated R. She didn't bat an eye at that level of gore and horror.
Every kid is different. But only you, the parents, know which kid is yours and what they are ready for. When you look at a book like Robin McKinley's Deerskin, you want to know that it has graphic accounts of child abuse, incest, and miscarriage in it. You, the parent, can then determine if that's a book to be read now, or one that should perhaps wait a few years until the developing mind that is in your care is prepared to grasp that not all bad things end in bad times, they can come out to survival and triumph. Personally, that book shook me to the core and I can't re-read it. On the other hand, her other earlier stories (I've never been able to read her after Deerskin) were brilliant, and I have bought copies to give to my girls. Some censor, I.
Some times a book isn't right for an age level. I had a book rejected from being added to a school library due to content concerns. I didn't think once that I was being censored, or cry out "I'm being banned!" to all the media. There is a scene in my YA book The God's Wolfling that portrays the heroes as they are captured by drug dealers when they stumble into someplace they shouldn't have been. The elementary school in question explained that they couldn't have any books in their library that portrayed 'drug culture' in any way. As I'd never intended that pair of books for juvenile (under 12 years) readers, I shrugged and went on with life. Have I, an author, been censored? Yes. Did it harm me? No. Would that scene (spoiler: the teen heroes make it out intact and the drug idiots pay dearly) have harmed some young impressionable mind? Well, probably not. But that's not my call to make. The school has a responsibility to parents, and parents are the ones tasked with raising their children. Not, thank goodness, angry people on the internet.
I don't think there are many children reading this blog. To be honest, I'd be surprised if that number was greater than one. There are rather a large number of parents and grandparents who read and write here. With all of those, I suspect that a primary goal is for us to raise readers. Not to restrict them, but to guide them and feed them good, tasty books, until they can be weaned and off to a diet of meaty books full of stories that will satisfy them, mystify them, and make them think more until their brains stretch out a size or three. And the best way to accomplish that is to talk about books which are beloved and find ones the children will read all up until they cry out for 'more! more'! and that's when you know you can come here, asking for ideas when you're out, and we'll tell you about the books we loved. Which includes a word of warning about things you might want to know so you aren't up in the middle of the night with a case of reading indigestion and a crying child.
Excellent! Thank you. I agree that what you describe is not censorship. And your response to the school declining your book was more than reasonable.
Some books are not fit for humans in general, let alone children.
One can in fact craft malice into physical form seperate from a human. Now, people always have a choice, a book of poisonous words cannot force a person to do anything, but given that one wouldn't listen to a person you know to be a liar, why should allowances be made for books?
No, anti-censorship is a Trojan horse for kelpies, and many are the useful idiots that let mould and rot fester in the name of freedom of expression.
This teller is in favour of safely harrowing children and even adults as only stories can, but there's a world of difference between that and books that are just screams of torment or worse spells meant to enchant and delude.
Certainly it's nice to be nice, but sooner or later, the answer to the various excuses for filth that people raise must be rejection. To declare that there is in fact legitimate and illegitimate, good and evil.
Some books are unworthy to be seen by human eyes.
Some deserve nothing but flame.
This then, produces greater terror than calls of censorship.