I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I am embarrassed to have not perviously read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. First published in 1969 and alternatively classified as autobiography or autobiographical fiction, it covers the early life of the poet and playwright Angelou. According to that well of unquestioned information, Wikipedia, not only does the book act as a critique, challenge and expansion of the autobiography genre, it was first written as a dare given by friend James Baldwin and editor Robert Loomis. A good thing they did, Caged Bird is an incredible read. Angelou, through her honest introspection and quiet writing, covers themes of identity, sexuality, rape, and racism carefully through the prism of her experience. So many books strive to cover similar ground and are the worst for it, resorting to "tell" when Angelou so deftly "shows."

With scenes of religious dissatisfaction, premarital sex, rape, unwed cohabitation, racism, and violence, it is little wonder that Caged Bird sits so prominently in the top of many challenged book lists; #3 of 100 most frequently challenged of 1990-2000, #5 of 100 of 2000-2007, and in the top ten of books banned from high and junior high school classrooms. What makes the book so powerful, and dangerous to those who think so, is the simple and personal way these themes are communicated to the reader. Rather than beat the reader over the head with the racism of American Slavery and subsequent Jim Crow, Angelou crafts the moment where, rebelling against her white employers re-naming her Mary and thus defining her identity, Marguerite smashes the china plates "from Virginia." Each note, each topic in the book is experienced, internalized, and expressed though the person of Marguerite. Doing so not only results in a character that leaps off of the page into the imagination of the living, but more poignantly expresses that the good and bad of the books themes, whether literacy or racism, are not academic or abstract ideas but enacted on the body and identity of real individuals.

To borrow from Opal Moore, the book "... Though easily read, [it] is no 'easy read.'" This unassuming presentation of difficult themes and vivid scenes seems to be a common mark for censors, especially when place on school curriculum. I'm confident that the Twilight series, if only because of its popularity and subject matter, will appear on the next list of challenged books, much in the same way the Harry Potter series did before. I shy away from claiming some books are worse to ban than others, but the attempt to control what students learn about and think is especially grim.

Up next: Go Ask Alice by Anonymous

The Chocolate War

Unlike many of the top ten banned or challenged books as identified by the ALA, The Chocolate War is a book I had never heard of, and incorrectly assumed based on the title and categorization as young adult fiction was in line with How to Eat Fried Worms or something similar. I was shocked at how the story progressed and pleasantly disturbed by its climax and conclusion.

Published in 1974 by Robert Cormier, it was made into a movie in 1988 and despite a slow start, is now a highly regarded work of young adult fiction. For fun, I jotted down the images or content I assumed could result in the books challenges, including but not limited to parents death, parents malaise, lying or manipulative teachers, adolescent masturbation or sexual urges - including alternatively violent sexual urges and homosexuality, hazing, and, of course, smoking and bad language. I'm sure something on this list peeved of some parent, but I think something at the core of the book is much more challenging and keeps the book in the top five of banned books, going back to 1990.

If Holden Caulfield represents the young anti-hero that I thought I identified with and secretly emulated, Jerry Renault is the anti-hero of a much more sinister and bleak world-view. Whereas Holden questions his peers, his society, and his place from perspective of privilege, examining what is ultimately a personal crisis, Jerry is forced to ask these questions when faced with aggressive and malicious external forces. As the plot progresses Jerry routinely looks to a quote by T.S. Eliot "do I dare disturb the universe?" printed on a poster in his locker. It is the fundamental question of the book - who dares to upset the norm, the status quo? Early in the plot, Jerry is challenged by hippies and admonished for being "square." Yet he is the only character who continually, through self examination and introspection, makes his own decisions. Other characters, including those inside of the secret society charged with maintaining and manipulating the status quo of the student body, often internally rail against the character of Archie and the manipulative environment he has created, but do nothing. Their half-hearted attempts are brushed aside and the characters return to the security of power and fitting in.

This pressure to avoid upsetting others or the norm, "peace at all costs," is exploited by the villains of the story. Even the sympathetic characters, the Goober and Brother Jacques, fail to enact lasting protests against the pressures of the system, instead capitulating after brief moments of sympathetic action. And this I feel is the most sinister aspect of the book. Not only do the good characters fail to be good and are cowed into submission, the protagonist Jerry is broken by the end of the book. The villain's deeds go unpunished, the plot unresolved, characters continue to enact the rigid structure of behavior, and Jerry himself no longer sees the benefit of his individuality:

"They tell you to do your thing but they don't mean it. They don't want you to do your thing, not unless it happens to be their thing, too. It's a laugh, Goober, a fake. Don't disturb the universe, Goober, no matter what the posters say."

So the book ends with the hero literally broken by a bully and mob rule, mentally no longer daring to upset the universe, while Archie and his accomplice the acting headmaster of the school Brother Leon maintain their power. A pretty harsh ending, and I wonder if adults wouldn't rather hide the fact that this group think happens everyday and the villains (often the very adults one is taught to trust) thrive, while maintaining the myth of individuality. Holden has a mental breakdown, but he's still Holden. Jerry is the tragic oppression of our secret individual selves, the death by a thousand cuts, that happens to us all everyday.

There is a Japanese proverb "the nail that sticks up will be hammered down." Terrifying, but we should all admit it is ourselves who hold the hammer. That is why this book is challenged, say what you want about adolescent sexual frustrations. It is a reality often too painful to admit.

Up Next: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark

Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is one I vividly remember from my own youth. This book and its sequels, More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, and Scary Stories 3: More Tales to Chill Your Bones, were in every library and classroom, read and passed around by everyone, and was the first to go at those Scholastic free book days that came once a year (man I loved those). Before picking up all three at the Fletcher Free Library, I could still remember vague images of the illustrations and bits and pieces of particular stories.

Reading them again, I was surprised at how grisly and graphic some of the stories are. I guess books for kids were more raw in 1986 when the first book was published than now. Remember the controversy over that video game DOOM? These books and illustrations are way harsher. Maybe not surprising that the series topped the 100 most frequently challenged book list of 1990-2000 by the American Library Association and was #6 for the 2000-2007 list.

An important detail of the structure of the books I had forgotten or lodged itself somewhere in my lizard brain is the organization of the material. The introduction of each volume describes these stories as having their origins in urban legend and folklore, and the endnotes of each story describes their variations, origins, and antecedents. For me personally, this was something of a revelation; just like the childhood museum visit or field trip, often we have no idea what the affects of such exposure will have on our interests or even careers.

Beyond the surprising academic rigor behind the content of the books, there is also the stunning illustrations by Stephen Gammell. These things have had possibly more staying power than the text (everything seems to be oozing/dripping, distorted, or tied to an equally haunting environment by webs) and I'm sure contributed to the books prominent place on challenged book lists. Given the current trend in re-appropriating material from the 80's and 90's for pop culture, I'd say these are an overlooked gem for such exploitation.

It appears that a number of factors contributed to the book's frequent challenges. Its ubiquitousness in schools and libraries, its popularity - no doubt stemming from its "dangerous" and frightening content, the graphic and wonderfully creepy illustrations, and its intended young audience are all apparent. Most of the books frequently challenged in our contemporary society appear to be those either written for younger readers or typically assigned in classrooms. In a culture where the freedom of speech and press are (at least in hypotheticals) commonly accepted, only the rallying cry of "Protect our children!" convinces the public of the legitimacy to ban a book. If a cursory glance at the list of commonly challenged books is any indication, this back-door banning of books is aimed particularly at content some attempt to control in society at large, from sex and drugs to poverty and race relations. By attempting to control what material we expose our children to, for good or ill, they attempt to pray on the instinct to protect children while enforcing a larger agenda. The next selection of books all are found at the top of frequently challenged book lists and are either intended for young readers or are common in class curriculum.

Up next: The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier

As I Lay Dying

I love that a banned or challenged book can also be an Oprah's Book Club selection, and furthermore such an endorsed edition would be in the library. Her reach is long, and, no matter you're feelings about the wielding of such power to make-or-break a book, girl can get people reading!

William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying, published in 1930, follows the death of Addie Bundren and the trials experienced by her neer-do-well husband and their five children to bring her body tobe buried in Jefferson, a distant town from their farm in Faulkner's fictional Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi.

The book follows the stream of consciousness point of view of 15 different narrators in 59 chapters, the shortest of which is only five words long. As the reader you piece together the plot and the characters through the eyes of the others. Wonderful, if sometimes puzzling.

According to the Wikipedia list, As I Lay Dying was banned in Kentucky for language and for being anti-Christian. I suppose anti-Christian covers an extramarital affair with a preacher, premarital sex, abortion, lying, desecration of a body, or taking the Lord's name in vain. Maybe that last one was covered by language. I suppose my favorite detail is the widower Anse Bundren, failing to spend any money for the benefit of his dying then dead wife or his children, getting fitted for new teeth and remarrying as soon as Addie is in the ground. Maybe that's anti-Christian, too.

I suppose, as banned books go, As I Lay Dying is sitting pretty. It does not appear on any contemporary banned book list; Faulkner received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1949, and later two Pulitzer's and two National Book Awards. And unlike other required reading for students, again Faulkner has not been banned or challenged frequently enough to make any contemporary lists. As I Lay Dying seems to be a good example of the changing and fickle tastes in challenging books. The ban does not seem to have spread beyond Kentucky, yet I wonder if frequency and availability become the lightning rods for challenging books in our contemporary era. As we will see shortly, it seems that popular books often aimed at children draw the most attention on the more current banned book lists.

Up next: Scary Stories Series by Alvin Schwartz

Little Black Sambo

"Once upon a time there was an English lady in India, where black children abound and tigers are everyday affairs, who had two little girls. To amuse these little girls she used now and then to invent stories..."

-Preface, 1900 edition

This is how author and illustrator Helen Bannerman explains the origin of her tale The Story of Little Black Sambo. In the story, the boy Sambo is outfitted with clothing and accessories by his mother Mumbo and father Jumbo. Entering the jungle, tigers agree to take Sambo's possessions in exchange for not eating him. When the tigers see each other, they fight to determine who is the grandest in there purloined finery. Biting each others tails, they run in circles until they, naturally melt into ghe butter (this is India, after all) and Sambo retrieves his clothing.  Father collects the butter, mother makes pancakes, and Sambo eats the lot.

It is not hard to see the overt and subversive racism in Little Black Sambo. In the original illustrations Sambo and his family are caricatures of Southern India or Tamil and in a later 1927 American edition the illustrations of Frank Dobias depict the characters in Black Face, with white eyes and large, ruby-red lips. While the story's structure is certainly common, many folk tales of outsmarting anthropomorphic animals for reward are told around the world, it is the depiction and characterization of Sambo that are offensive. That the story was intended to entertain little (white) girls clearly illustrates the pervasive and instructive aspects of institutional or cultural racism. The name Sambo, according to wikipedia (for what that is worth) became a racial slur, even referenced in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.  

What happens when a book becomes controversial, is maybe challenged, and then simply disappears? I remember reading Little Black Sambo as a kid and being told there was nothing specifically racist about the story. Now, I think it would be difficult to find the book in circulation in a library or for sale. These two editions came from special collections at the University of Vermont's library. Not that I would ever promote the book as a benchmark of cultural understanding, but have we "banned" the book from others by our mutual agreement not to continue its publication? The story is still  popular enough to have inspired a number of spin-off modern versions, what is our debt to the original? Granted, Little Black Sambo does not specifically call for racism or discrimination, but as a children's book it certainly establishes a basis or foundation for racist views, implying that such depictions are okay.  I suppose my question is, what should our responsibility be towards outdated, offensive, or racist views?  Why are some works treasured, or even justified, while others fade away? Should we ignore it or hold it up as a caution and reminder?  

Up next: As I Lay Dying

Correction: Little Black Sambo does appear on the ALA 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990-2000 at #90.

Fahrenheit 451, #72

For the first book in a series about banned books, why not start with the penultimate book about book censorship? For a cautionary taste of a dystopian future, Fahrenheit 451 remains the go-to book for English teachers, sci-fi junkies, and Francois Truffaut. Since its publication in 1953, the book has ironically been cut and censored by editors hoping to remove swear words when including the text in school textbook readers. The book is even #72 on the American Library Association list of top 100 banned or challenged books of 2000-2007.  So when the book was chosen for the National Endowment of the Arts The Big Read, I had to move it to the top of the list of books to read. The Big Read, I suppose, is a federally supported Oprah's Book Club, except that free copies of the book are provided to libraries, schools, and other voluntary participating institutions. I received my free copy care of the Vermont Arts Council.  What better way to begin than with a federally supported/banned book.

I haven't yet decided whether to include plot summaries or spoilers in these posts or not. I hope not to discourage others to read these books for themselves, so for now a brief introduction to the plot and themes will suffice. Fahrenheit 451 follows Guy Montag, a fireman in the speculative future where the populace live hedonistic lives and books are contraband. With fireproof homes, the firemen are employed to burn the remaining caches of books hidden by individuals in defiance of the blanket ban.  Reading itself, it seems, is not banned; newspapers and other text are still commonplace, and Guy's wife Mildred participates in her TV programs with a provided script.  Instead, the ban on books is a suppression of dissent and free-thinking.  Reading the book 56 years after its original publication, I am struck by the similarities between our current society and Bradbury's dystopia.  In the book, living rooms are dominated by multiple wall-size television screens with programs designed to include viewer participation.  How similar to our current home entertainment centers and reality television or YouTube.  In the story, people are rarely without their "seashell" ear radios - comparable to our Ipods, earbuds, or ever present media capabilities on our cell phones.  A future where few people are pedestrians, true to our current suburban society, must have been an uncomfortable prediction in the early 50's.  

Censorship of a book about censorship is a funny thing.  Aside from challenges for language, banning a book for its lesson about the dangers of narrow-minded thinking is insidious and depressing.  The book encourages free-thinking and the development of one's own opinions, even to question the value of the opinion itself. A challenge against the book is a statement of distrust in others to form their own opinions.  While the book's antiestablishment message to couched in terms specific to the speculative future the characters inhabit, it does encourage the reader to engage in critical thinking beyond one's comfort zone, to participate in a phenomenological study of subjective themes and feelings. And any questioning of the status quo would, invariably, come under attack.  

Bradbury himself has a more hardline approach to challenges to his or anyone else's work, regarding any editing, self-censorship, or cultural pressure on the production of an aesthetic work, even critique on behalf of minority or under-represented populations, unacceptable.  

Up next: The Story of Little Black Sambo

Banned!

Welcome to Banned and Burned: Reading Challenged Books in Public. Fascinated by any attempt to restrict information, I decided to read as many banned books as possible, borrowing as many as I can from local libraries. In reading I hope to uncover, whether obvious or not, the subversive or questionable elements these books present to the various organizations who in turn seek to keep anyone else from experiencing. I'll be using a couple of resources to compile my list of banned books: Wikipedia has a list of commonly challenged and banned books and the American Library Association publishes a list of most frequently challenged books and authors each year. Additionally, the Banned Book Resource Guide is published every three years. Using these, I hope to develop a better picture of the books someone doesn't want you to read. I'll post what book I'm reading now if anyone cares to join in. 

Up Next: Fahrenheit 451