censorship | Seattle Book Mama

If ever a clarion call were needed in defense of the First Amendment in general and libraries in particular, that time would be now. Amanda Jones is an educator in a small Louisiana town, where she has lived all of her life. When a censorship battle presented itself, primarily at the behest of organized outsiders with an agenda, she turned up and spoke in a public meeting; in doing so, she unwittingly entered the most chilling chamber of horrors one might imagine.

My thanks go to Bloomsbury and Net Galley for the review copy. This book is for sale now.

Amanda describes herself as a committed Christian and a political moderate; she blushingly confesses to have voted for Trump in 2016. How could a Southern Baptist teacher and librarian suddenly find herself at the heart of a maelstrom, being referred to online as a pedophile, a groomer, and a member of the “woke” left? In a place in which outsiders hold less credibility than those with longstanding roots, how could so many native residents be convinced that pornography is being peddled to children by one of their own? Of course, the only way to create such an atmosphere is through fear and convincing lies.

“Book censors will often say there are books containing pornographic, or sexually explicit, material in children’s sections of the library to rile up public fear. They decry the need to protect children from the evil smut they say is next to Dr. Seuss books. As if a kid could be looking for The Very Hungry Caterpillar and whoops, there’s The Joy of Sex or The Kama Sutra right next to it. That’s never the case. Libraries have collection development policies for ordering books, and appropriate books are placed in the appropriate section. Public libraries do not purchase pornography. Adult books are not in the library’s children section, and to suggest otherwise is ridiculous.”

The American Library Association has guidelines for challenging books. This is essentially what Amanda tells those in attendance at the meeting called by book burners that evening. She is one of more than twenty other locals that show up for the same purpose.

What occurs at this meeting turns out to be a formula frequently used by the extreme right. A page of alarming material is blown up on a big screen for attendees to see. The presenter explains that this very book was found in an area easily accessed by children, right here in the public library in Livingston Parish. It’s a lie. The book isn’t there at all. But most people are decent and tell the truth most of the time; it doesn’t occur to audience members that this is a complete fabrication.

Why Amanda was chosen by these sinister visitors to be the sacrificial lamb is anyone’s guess. Perhaps she is more persuasive than others, or better organized in her remarks. Who knows? By the following day, social media has blown up with vile, horrifying accusations against her. Worst of all, there are people that she has known all of her life and considered friends, that add approving reactions to these poisonous lies. People she always believed would stand up for her, disappear instead, or join the opposition. Her family, her closest friends, and her fellow librarians across the country are the core of her defense, which eventually finds its way into the courtroom. Fellow educators at work? Not so much.

Although this takes place in the deep South, Amanda points out that these challenges are taking place across the country, with the ultimate goal of defunding public libraries. She mentioned a challenge in my hometown, Seattle, Washington, and I gasped. And so, this is an issue that must be monitored, and libraries and free speech defended, by all liberty loving readers everywhere.

The first half of the book is beautifully organized and compelling. I believe my jaw dropped when she wrote of sleeping with a shotgun under her bed, and checking for bombs or tracking devices on the undercarriage of her car. Death threats? Oh honey. Yes. The second half is also good, but could probably use a bit of tightening up. However, were I in her shoes, I would no doubt ramble endlessly.

This would make a terrific movie, and if well done, would certainly deliver the message to still more people.

I wholeheartedly recommend this memoir to all readers that support libraries and the First Amendment.

It was my daughter, a woman in her early twenties, that explained QAnon to me. When she was done, I watched her face for signs that I was being played. Nope. I repeated it back to her, because surely nobody would be dumb enough to believe anything so far-fetched. Instead, she told me that this is it, and that a number of U.S. senators and other highly placed politicos swear it is all true.

My thanks go to the author for the review copy.

If you are still dazed from this business, then Robert Guffey has written a book just for you. In readable yet well researched fashion, he lays it all out: where it began, who, why, how. He can’t make it go away for you—or me, for that matter—but he can make the whole bizarre business a bit less confusing.

As with most nonfiction, this book has its limitations. It won’t persuade anyone that believes in this myth, and Guffey doesn’t try. And he doesn’t have a plan or a recommended way forward out of this morass. But sometimes it helps to pull a thing out of the attic, dust it off and see what it actually is, and he does a fine job of that. The tone is congenial, and at times, darkly funny.

One thing I appreciate is his view on censorship:

These days, the inability to deal with reality as it exists—and not as one wishes it to exist—is the biggest challenge facing the right and the left. The reaction to QANON, pre-insurrection, is the perfect example of this trend toward puritanical solipsism. The attitude seems to be: If we block out (or “deplatform”) people with whom we disagree, then the Evil Nasty Ones will magically—poof!—disappear simply because we can’t see or hear them anymore. Like tossing a bucket of water on the Wicked Witch of the West or running a lightsaber through some cloaked asshole at the end of a Star Wars film. I hate to break it to you, kids, but that’s not the way the real world works.”

Sometimes it helps to have basic information, and if that’s what you’re looking for, this book is what you need. Get your fire lit, your cup of coffee (or something far stronger,) curl up (in fetal position, if necessary,) and prepare to learn.