Banned Books Week: Tintin in the Congo

Not only do I read banned books, but I buy them as well. Let me start with a story.

At the end of August, on my final evening of a lovely trip to Cape Cod, I was checking out Herridge Books in Wellfleet. Herridge Books is a used book store tucked in a corner not far from Mayo Beach and Wellfleet Center. I was looking for Church Mice books, while my daughter wanted ghost stories. You could have knocked me over with a clam roll when I found this:

As Captain Haddock would say--blistering barnacles!

A brief history of Tintin in the Congo: it is unavailable to purchase new in the United States. Period. Despite Tintin's decades of cult status in this country, and a highly successful animated film helped raise the franchise's profile, no one can walk into their local Barnes and Noble, or log on to Amazon.com to purchase a newly minted, 2005 (which is when it was last reprinted) edition of this book. Why not? Because the American publishers of the Tintin books, Little, Brown and Company, have deemed it too offensive for this country. Or, to quote the Forward at the start of the UK edition, (which indeed the copy I bought was) Tintin in the Congo contains "bourgeois, paternalistic stereotypes of the period." And Heaven knows we can't have any of that. Particularly in a children's book. And let's not even get started on Herge's attitude to big-game hunting.

I don't mean to sound glib. The controversy surrounding Tintin in the Congo is actually quite complex, based on the book's publishing history, Belgian colonial history, and Herge's own growth as a writer and the creator of Tintin the character. (The Guardian summarizes the issues nicely in this article about a recent attempt to ban the book in Belgium.) And, truthfully, the book is bourgeois and paternalistic. Embarrassingly so. I doubt that Herge meant to offend readers of the day, or even future readers of a more enlightened period, which I'm sure we all like to think the 21st Century is. But there are readers who will take offense to this book.

Now that I have finally read it, I can see that there's not much to recommend Tintin in the Congo other than Herge's name on the front cover. But as a fan of Tintin, I wanted to read it. As a librarian interested in issues of censorship and free speech, I wanted to read it. As a mother who discusses race relations with a daughter curious about the unequal world around her, I wanted to read it. There are many reasons why I wanted to read this book, and not a single one of them had to do with actually agreeing with its content. Yet look at the extent I had to go to find it--dumb luck at a used book store.

It's very easy to stand up and support books like To Kill a Mockingbird or The Color Purple, challenged and banned books whose literary merit and social importance is inherent. But there are ugly books which need protection, too. I recently read Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 (yet another frequently challenged book,) and I came across this exchange between Guy Montag and Faber:

"My wife says books aren't 'real'"
"Thank God for that. You can shut them, say 'Hold on a moment.' You play God to it." (p. 80)

The Reader plays God to the book. Not the publisher. Not the neighbors. The Reader. Maybe it's because I believe in a God who supports free will as opposed to the manipulation of life to ensure harmony, that I found this quote so appropriate to the issue of intellectual freedom. There is a market in this country for Tintin in the Congo, and Little, Brown and Company should feel free to meet the demand of that market. They should not play God to readers by refusing to publish it. Publish the book, and let the readers play God.

For more information about Banned Books Week--it's the 30th anniversary by the way!--you can visit a couple of sites:
http://bannedbooksweek.org/
http://www.ala.org/advocacy/banned/bannedbooksweek

And if you completely disagree with everything I say, feel free not to read Tintin in the Congo (assuming you can find a copy.)

Tintin in the Congo causing trouble again

The National Coalition Against Censorship blogs today about the decision by the Brooklyn Public Library to remove Tintin in the Congo from its circulating collection. They will still keep the book, but it will now be housed in a special collection. This is basically the age-old compromise for librarians when faced with material of a "difficult" (i.e. controversial) nature: make the book available, just make it difficult to find. Although most librarians probably consider themselves as protectors of intellectual freedom (I know I do) and like to think that they would fight to the death to allow readers access to a book--any book!--(fortunately I've not yet been asked to do so,) it is probably fair to say that most librarians also choose their battles. Books like To Kill a Mockingbird, The Diary of Anne Frank, even the Harry Potter books, have cache, and it is easy to imagine most librarians standing up for these classics. But Tintin in the Congo has had a hard time finding defenders. I blogged about this issue in 2007 when Little Brown made the decision not to republish the book in the United States, despite the fact that the entire Tintin collection was at the time being reissued as a box set. And not having read the book myself (how can I? It is not easy to locate in this country,) I cannot comment on its historical or literary value. In the case of Tintin the Congo, I now have the feeling of collusion between publishers and libraries who have effectively between them made this book unavailable to anyone, buyers or borrowers. That is neither honest nor good.

Top Ten Challanged Books of 2008

The American Library Association's Office of Intellectual Freedom has released this year's list of the most challanged books (well, at least the top ten) in 2008. And Tango Makes Three is still the most challanged book. A look at our circulation records shows that it's not even raising an eyebrow here. Nor is Uncle Bobby's Wedding, which, along with Tango, can be found on our picture book shelves (as opposed to on the Parent's Shelf with all the "issue books".) Whether this lack of offense is because of geography or apathy, I couldn't say.

Bratz Busted!

Well, I can't say that I'm sorry. Scholastic's decision to drop all Bratz tie-in products from their book sale circulars is reported in the New York Times. It seems there was some concern with their hypersexualization of young girls. I don't have a problem with the fact that many of the books and other products offered by Scholastic for home retail are television or toy tie-ins (although it always grated on me when my daughter would pass over a lovely Caldecott selection in favor of a Littlest Pet Shop or My Little Pony item.) I believe in "whatever gets 'em reading." But in our house, "brat" is a pejorative term. So why would I want to purchase something which portrays a brat 'tude as cute or an intrinsic right?

Just as an aside, Susan Linn, the director of the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, which spearheaded the campaign against the Bratz products, wrote an interesting book called Consuming Kids: The Hostile Take Over of Childhood. I read a portion of the book a few years back, when my daughter was about 4. It left me with a distinct feeling of panic--the sense that my little girl was simply a moving target for advertisers. Now that she is older, with the dispensable income that an allowance provides, and the influence of other children at school who talk about the latest "it" item, I think I was correct to worry, if not panic.

Tintin on the hot seat

The news that Little Brown will not be publishing Tintin in the Congo is not really news. This story made the rounds of the blogosphere earlier in the year when the book was released in Europe. My gut instinct is to disagree with this decision, because to me it seems like historical revisionism. I can understand not marketing it as a children's book. I can even understand not including it in the box set. But to decide against publishing it altogether seems spineless and naive; spineless because the publisher's preferred to avoid a controversy, and naive because ignoring the book doesn't make what is objectionable less so. English children's novelist Anne Fine commented on the controversy in an article for The Times, citing incidents in her own writing where she has revised older texts for modern readers. If she chooses to do that to her own writing, that's her decision. And I guess choosing not to publish a book is a publisher's prerogative, but I would have had more respect for their decision to cancel publication if Little Brown said they wouldn't make any profit from the book. Everyone knows that money talks. And maybe that is what's motivating this decision, and they're not simply taking the high road.

I always come back to the opinion that if something is objectionable, don't buy it/read it/promote it. English journalist Kathryn Hughes agrees, although she is of the opinion that modern readers can learn from their unenlightened ancestors. Which takes us back to that historical revisionism thing. Tintin in the Congo is what it is: a book written when colonialism and colonialist attitudes were rampant. Eradicating racism from modern society is commendable, but eradicating all reference to it is not the way it's done.

Note on a Tirade

An addendum to yesterday's entry about patron-enforced censorship: yesterday I checked the status of our copy of It's Perfectly Normal, in light of the recent brouhaha. The catalog indicated that it was available to borrow. However, when I went into the record I noticed that the book had not circulated since mid-2004. Hmmmmm.....suspect to say the least. And sure enough, when I went to the stacks, I could not find the book. I wonder how many librarians across America had a similar experience.

Raising my Librarian Hackles

Just in time for Banned Book Week--this story has hit the airwaves. A woman in Maine has borrowed two copies of the sex education book, It's Perfectly Normal (Harris, Robbie) from two separate libraries, and she has refused to return them. The general stereotype of the spinster librarian with a bun, or at the very least, a well-placed finger in shushing position, gives absolutely no credit to the role of the librarian as the defender of intellectual freedom. Librarians are taught that every person has a right to read whatever they want. It's not our business to ask what they are reading or why. It's even considered bad form to comment on materials at checkout--"Do you like John Grisham? Me too!" So when I read stories like this one, about an individual who takes it upon herself to determine what is and isn't suitable for patron consumption.....well! I get my bun in a twist! Seriously, though, who does she think she is?

I am familiar with the book in question, although I have not read it myself (I guess she has one up on me there.) By now it is an old book, but I remember when it came out, and it caused controversy then, too. Sex ed books are easy targets for censors, and my guess is that the use of the word "normal" in the title upsets some readers because, hey, what's normal? My definition may not jibe with my neighbor's. Be that as it may, nobody has a right to tell me or anyone else what books I can or cannot read, and by removing a book my ability to choose is effectively removed, too.

Here's a story from my own experience. One day, a patron handed me a book and said, "I think you should see this." The book in her hand was The Biggest Bear, a picture book by Lynn Ward. A Caldecott winning picture book, written a long, long time ago (read "in the unenlightened past".) Someone, who clearly did not like or approve of the book, had written all over it, claiming that it glorified hunting, was violent, cruel to animals, and single-handedly responsible for the downfall of society. The book was removed--no doubt the scribbler's intent--but reordered (as a Caldecott winner, we're practically required to own it.) The thing is, the scribbler had every right to dislike that book. They even had the right to come up to me and voice that dislike. They even had the right to lodge a formal complaint (we have paperwork for that.) But there is an even simpler solution to that problem--if you don't like the book, DON'T READ THE BOOK! This is a large and vast world. And even in a place as bleeding-heart as the Boston area, there are people who probably like hunting. Or maybe they just like books about bears. Or maybe they just want to see what passed for award winning Children's literature nearly 70 years ago. All those different types of readers have the right to go into their library and look for The Biggest Bear if they want it. And pre-pubescent children who want to know about their changing bodies have a right to read It's Perfectly Normal. Heck, kids who just want to know what the other sex looks like with no clothes on has a right to look at the book. Grown-ups who want to know what's considered "normal" sex ed have the right to look at that book. Maybe they don't like what they see. Then they talk to their kids themselves, instead of leaving it up to a book. Or they say, "That book is from the hands of Satan himself! Don't read it!" At which point the child has the right to decide for him or herself if they want to take their parent's advice.

My daughter is only six, so she still pretty much does what I tell her to. If I tell her to put a book down, she generally does. That will change, and there will be things that she will want to keep secret from me. If she seeks out information from a source other than me, I would much prefer that she wanders the stacks of a library, perhaps soliciting some guidance from a non-judgemental librarian, rather than trawling the internet, with its abundant lack of organization, accountability, or expertise. However, if there are would-be do-gooders, weeding collections based on their own one-sided value system, with no regard for differing taste, opinion, or perspective, then she is robbed of the opportunity to make her own choices. And as a parent, I don't like to think that anyone is disadvantaging my daughter in anyway. So self-appointed censors--HANDS OFF! If you want to save the world, become a librarian and protect books, not destroy them.