Banning books: keeping our children safe from the perils of free thinking

Burning books is not funny. Neither is banning them, or challenging their right to sit on a library shelf. That being said, sometimes people find reasons to hate books that are so absurd, I can’t help laughing. It is in this spirit of mocking exasperation that I present a list of books that have been banned, burned or challenged for totally ridiculous reasons.

Children’s Books:
Black Beauty, by Anna Sewell, is famous for calling attention to animal cruelty. Narrated by the title horse, it tells the tale of the kindness and cruelty experienced by Black Beauty throughout his life. South African officials were apparently so busy trying to figure out apartheid that they never got a chance to read the book and take in its positive message. It was not banned for profane content or cultural insensitivity, but because it had the word “Black” in the title. Also banned: black licorice, black chessmen, professional baseball player Bud Black and black-forest chocolate cake.

Shel Silverstein makes the list twice. First for A Light in the Attic, the book of imaginative poems and quirky drawings generally adored by children. The Cunningham Elementary School in Beloit, Wisconsin, challenged the book in 1985 because the poem “How Not to Have to Dry the Dishes” was said to "[encourage] children to break dishes so they won't have to dry them." Wisconsin officials call this unacceptable, I call it creative problem solving. The next year it was challenged by an elementary school library in Mukwonago, Wisconsin, because the poems "glorified Satan, suicide and cannibalism, and also encouraged children to be disobedient." Perhaps the ban prevented a gang of disobedient seven year-olds from laying siege to the peaceful community. Anarchy.

Silverstein incurs the wrath of more school libraries for Where the Sidewalk Ends, a collection of poetry similar to A Light in the Attic. It must have been popular to ban Silverstein in Wisconsin, because in 1986, West Milwaukee school libraries challenged the book, saying it "suggests drug use, the occult, suicide, death, violence, disrespect for truth, disrespect for legitimate authority, [and] rebellion against parents." In 1993 it was challenged by the Central Columbia School District in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania, because it included "Dreadful," a poem that repeats the line “someone ate the baby.” Officials were terrified that reading the poem would inspire young children to partake in the habit of cannibalism. But this is a serious issue; if they hadn’t taken a stand, an impressionable child would have tried to eat his baby brother or sister. Lives were saved.

Where's Waldo? is a favorite among kids who hate to read but love looking at pictures. It was removed from school libraries in East Hampton, New York, in 1993 after it was discovered that among the thousands of tiny little people drawn meticulously on each page, the beach scene featured a drawing of a woman sans bikini top. I can actually see how this happened: the illustrator is cloistered in a room for days, months, years, drawing hordes of small people. When he finally nears the end of the dreadful assignment, he’s cracked; muttering under his breath, rocking back and forth, looking shifty-eyed and crazy. In a desperate act of impotent rebellion, he draws a topless lady, giggling to himself. I’m pretty sure that’s how it happened.

Louise Fitzhugh’s Harriet the Spy was challenged by school libraries in Xenia, Ohio, in 1983. Those lobbying for its ban claimed it was "dangerous" because it "teaches children to lie, spy, back-talk and curse." It’s not enough that poor Harriet’s spy notebook falls into the wrong hands and all her friends turn on her, children need to learn that spying is dangerous. Maybe Fitzhugh could insert a scene where Harriet is hung upside-down by her ankles and threatened with scary knives and pointy needles until she reveals what she knows. That’ll teach 'em.

Classics:
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee, a Native American history of the West by Dee Brown, was removed from shelves in Wild Rose, Wisconsin, in 1974. A district administrator called it a "slanted" account of events, and followed up by saying "if there's a possibility that something might be controversial, then why not eliminate it." Good point. Let’s get rid of women in the military, civil rights and Madonna, too.

Henrik Ibsen’s not-so-feminist play, “A Doll’s House,” was challenged by the Alabama State Textbook Committee for promoting feminist views. Nora, the protagonist, abandons her home and family after years of being referred to as a “little squirrel” by her husband. I’d leave too. Considering the obsession with portraying good family values, it’s not shocking that it was challenged. What is surprising is that allegations of feminism were were enough to challenge the play in 1983.

Irony of ironies: Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is about censorship and book burning in a bleak alternative society. In Irvine, California, parents were surprised to find  their middle school students had been issued censored copies; the objectionable passages had been crossed out with black marker.

Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d'Arthur was published in the late 15th century, and is one of the most important works of literature in English. In it, Malory records and revises tales of King Arthur that had previously been passed around by oral tradition, and combines them with his own stories about courtly culture. It is still a principal source for literary critics researching Arthurian Legend. In 1997, the Somerset, Kentucky, school district attempted to ban the renowned work, calling it “junk.” Perhaps the school district should consider placing a ban on anything published before 1990.

Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut, wasn’t just banned, it was burned. In 1973, Residents of Drake, North Dakota, found the content of the novel so offensive that they built a fire and used copies of the book as kindling. It was later banned in Rochester, Michigan, because it "contains and makes references to religious matters." In 1985, it was challenged by the Owensboro, Kentucky, High School library because it contained "foul language [and] a reference to 'Magic Fingers' attached to the protagonist's bed to help him sleep.” They also took issue with Vonnegut’s explanation that “'The gun made a ripping sound like the opening of the fly of God Almighty.'” Finally, in 1996, the Round Rock, Texas, Independent High School deemed the book too violent, and petitioned for its removal from the reading list, though they lost.

This list is far from complete, so if your favorite tale of book banning or burning isn’t here, leave a comment and share it with the masses.