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Why State Lawmaker's
Proposal to Ban Books Will Not Work
(The Daily Corinthian, 11 December 2004) |
Tennessee
Williams? In a hole? In the ground?
While Tennessee Williams himself
should be resting peacefully deep in the ground in St. Louis,
one might question whether some of his books belong in the ground
as well. Williams, a native of Columbus, Mississippi, was a playwright,
the author of such gems as "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,"
"The Glass Menagerie," and "A Streetcar Named
Desire," among some of the best-acclaimed Broadway performances.
Williams' plays are also considered part of the canon of great
American drama, studied widely in high school and university
English classes.
But if Gerald Allen, an Alabama
State Representative from Cottondale, Alabama, has his way, putting
some of Williams' best plays in a hole in the ground is exactly
what we ought to do.
Allen, a supporter of the recently
hyped ban on gay marriage, is now proposing that we ban novels
with gay characters from public libraries, including university
libraries. And Tennessee Williams, who was a gay man, is likely
one of the most notable authors for including gay characters
in his work. Allen suggests that we remove such books from library
shelves. And then what do we do? "I guess we dig a big hole
and dump them in and bury them," he proclaims. He has now
written a bill proposing the removal of such works from library
shelves and pre-filed it in advance of next year's legislative
session, beginning February 1st.
The knee jerk reaction in me, of
course, makes me want to respond with my own proposal. Instead,
I say we remove narrow-minded, unrealistic, ignorant lawmakers
from their posts and dig a big hole in the ground and dump them
in. However, as an educated person, I know I've got to be more
logical.
But it never ceases to amaze me
how some people think we can rid society of any element they
deem offensive simply by removing its manifestation from public
consciousness. Certainly, Allen's proposal smacks of nothing
more than censorship.
And, as best I can recall from
my American history classes, the idea of outright censorship
is antithetical to the notion of intellectual freedom that we
seem to purport in our country. Otherwise, why not do as the
Nazis did? Our President, like the Nazi regime, might appoint—as
part of his Cabinet, perhaps—a Minister of Propaganda who
would be responsible for eliminating any offensive material.
Mr. Allen from Alabama might be a fine candidate for the job.
Accordingly, communities could
hold book burnings nationwide. And if the bonfires also offered
feasting, I think it just might work. After all, Americans love
to eat, don't they? Apparently so, considering our rapidly expanding
waistlines.
Therefore, I propose all-out book-burnings,
coupled with All-You-Can-Eat rotisserie chicken. Patrons bring
the most offensive book they can find, pulled straight from a
public library shelf. They pay, say, five dollars at the gate.
In turn, they get to see their most abhorred book go up in smoke,
while devouring a tasty chicken leg. It might bring out the masses
in droves, turning out to be the next greatest thing since Monday
Night Football.
But I exaggerate. Why? Because
such a ridiculous proposal that Allen offers deserves a ridiculous
response.
Besides the problem of intellectual
freedom that our country holds dear and which is granted by our
Constitution, the other problem here is the question of who becomes
the ultimate arbiter of offensiveness.
Someone might advocate banning
Adolf Hitler's "Mein Kampf" because it contains offensive
Nazi propaganda and reminds us of a nasty blight on our world
history. Someone else might advocate banning Mark Twain's "Adventures
of Huckleberry Finn" because it reminds us of a time when
black Americans were treated as little more than animals, a nasty
blight on our national history. And someone else, like Allen,
might advocate banning Tennessee Williams' "Cat on a Hot
Tin Roof" because it presents us with a gay character and
makes us come to terms with how we conceive of homosexuality,
an issue that has recently been brought to the forefront of our
national consciousness.
However, erasing or removing the
manifestation of the idea, the book itself, does not erase the
idea, does not negate the fact that, say, the Holocaust did really
happen or America did espouse slavery at one time or that there
really are gay people who live in the world. Nor should it.
To try to do so would be akin to
the fictional world described by George Orwell's "1984."
We cannot rewrite history or change the reality of the world.
And, no matter what one believes about homosexuality, such a
proposal is simply un-American. And that is why Allen's bill
will never pass.
I am glad. I'd much rather have
the works of Tennessee Williams and other such writers stay where
they belong: on the shelves of our nation's public libraries—so
that they can be appreciated for their artistic and social merit,
as they should be.
(Stacy Jones, a Southerner,
is a Master of Fine Arts student in fiction writing at The University
of Memphis. She is a native of Guys, Tenn., and her columns,
which appear on Saturdays, are archived at Southern-Drawl.com.) |
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