Celebrate the freedom to read!

September 27, 2011

As part of our continued support, and downright excitement, about this year’s Banned Books Week (Sept. 24-Oct. 1), we have another video posted for the nation-wide virtual read-out.

EVERYONE is invited to create a video of themselves! So pick your favorite banned or challenged book (see a current list HERE) and upload it to a special Banned Books Week channel.

Find instructions on how to upload your own video is available here and more information is also available here.

Join the Virtual Read-out!

September 26, 2011

The centerpiece of this year’s Banned Books Week celebration (Sept. 24-Oct. 1) is a virtual read-out. Everyone is invited to create a video of themselves reading from their favorite banned or challenged book and upload it to a special Banned Books Week channel. Videos of challenged authors and other celebrities will be also posted on the YouTube channel. More information about the read-out is available here and here.

Celebrate the freedom to read!

Reading What’s Banned

September 24, 2011

Editor’s note: As part of our recognition and celebration of Banned Books Week, September 24 – October 1, we present a guest post by author Dorothee Kocks. Kocks will appear at The King’s English, Saturday, October 1 at 4 p.m. Visit the American Booksellers Foundation for Free Expression website HERE and check out the Virtual Read-Out dedicated Youtube channel HERE.

By Dorothee E. Kocks

My novel, The Glass Harmonica, features an early 19th century bookseller who sells obscene books, and this surprised me. I come from a liberal family but a sexually modest one. What was I doing with a character who roamed the early American countryside, hawking risqué literature from the back of his carriage, including what would become the most banned book in U.S. history, Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure?

It’s a question particularly poignant this week, as librarians and booksellers celebrate Banned Books Week. A “virtual read-out” pushes the boundaries on YouTube of what is considered appropriate reading.

I got my answer from a reader recently. She wrote that the experience of immodesty, that brazen state of a woman’s rebellion against the prescribed life, was lost to her. But last year, “for the briefest few hours,” she got it back. When she did, she wrote, “I dazzled and was electrified. And then I was shamed, and shattered, and shuffled out of the room.”

There is something good about trying out what we’re told is wrong. Something brave. At the time of my book, the generation following the Revolution, people were figuring out what freedom meant. And one thing it meant was reading what your betters commanded that you avoid.

Henry Garland, a rebel son of Puritans, sells the top two bestsellers from his carriage: The Bible, and Noah Webster’s The Book of Spelling, a dry-sounding title that was a how-to manual for teaching yourself to read. The next hot-selling book seems to have
been a tie.

The Coquette, sometimes called the first American novel, told the story of a woman torn between an upright but boring preacher and a handsome Southern rake. She ends up pregnant, shunned, but sympathetically so – and the book swiftly is banned from the new public libraries.

Aristotle’s Masterpiece, despite the lofty title, concealed a ‘granny book’ or midwife’s manual –with illustrations, and explicit instructions on how to make a woman ready to conceive.

And then there was Fanny Hill. Now a classic of erotic literature, it follows an orphaned girl into the English urban sex trade – where she has a lot of fun. It could be called that generation’s The Joy of Sex.

Not all of these books were formally banned because the government hadn’t yet taken on that role – but they were certainly forbidden. From the pulpits, in the self-censorship of the newspapers which advertised Fanny Hill obliquely as “Memoirs of –”, people got the message: Don’t go there.

So they went. What is it about the forbidden that actually can drive us to be better people, even better citizens? Sometimes the content itself is liberating. But even more, it’s the experience of navigating that border territory where right and wrong are unclear. There, you find out what you yourself feel is right. Our forebears overthrew monarchies. They did not live as they were told to do. They invented a better way. And sometimes the first step is to do what is banned. Forbidden.

Freedom requires moral courage. And moral courage often arises out of the ashes of moral failure – out of shuffling shamefacedly out of the room, as happens to my characters. You have to be lost to be found.

Dorothee E. Kocks, PhD, is the author of BewareTheTimidLife.com and The Glass Harmonica, A Sensualist’s Tale (Rosa Mira Books, 2011). She welcomes invitations to book clubs via Skype (or via other technological wonders of our age).