Number of Utah teenagers who will not be able to read Margaret Atwood’s “Oryx and Crake” or “Forever...” by Judy Blume now that those books have been banned from all public school libraries: Zero.
Number of Utah teenagers who will familiarize themselves with public libraries, bookstores and Amazon in order to read “Oryx and Crake,” “Forever…” or any of the other books that have been, or will be, removed from their schools: Many.
Benefit to Utah teenagers from a few public officials making war on hugely popular authors, distracting us all from overcrowded, underfunded schools with no nurses, too few counselors, too much racism and disappointing test scores: None. (Except for the unintended consequences described in the previous paragraph.)
Number of news articles and online journals around the world pointing out how afraid of literature and of their own children Utah’s leaders are, making us a global laughing stock just when we should be basking in the glow of winning the 2034 Winter Olympics: Too many.
Atwood, best known as the author of the increasingly relevant “The Handmaid’s Tale,” used just the right tool to respond to the situation: Mockery.
“Wow, I’m the most dangerous little old lady of 84 you’ve ever heard of!” Atwood tweeted. “Oh alas, whatever will I do? Hit Utah with my cane?”
Utah’s absurd law sets out specific reasons — basically too much sex — a school district or charter school can use to ban a particular book from its libraries. And it says that whenever at least three school districts, or two school districts and five charter schools, have by this process found a book sufficiently offensive, not only does that book get swept from that district’s or charter’s collection, it also must be removed from every public and charter school library in the state.
It is a horribly undemocratic policy, rightly opposed by state and national freedom-to-read groups. It encourages a handful of activists — who may only be reacting to an online post of a brief passage from a book they haven’t read — to decide for a state of more than 3.3 million people what books may and may not be found in school libraries.
These 13 books apparently contain some detailed descriptions of sexual longing and behavior by young characters. Many good people, teen and adult, may find them offensive. They don’t have to read them. Unless they want to claim the right to judge them.
Parents (and caregivers) have the right to veto any book they don’t want their own students to read. This has always been the case. Of course every parent should have the final say over the children they are raising. They should not, however, be permitted to censor the book choices other families make.
As described in published essays and reviews, these books deal with many real and common youthful emotions and dilemmas. Desire, yes, but also angst, embarrassment, fear, shame, regret, love, confusion.
That is, the normal stuff of being human, always proper subjects for literary exploration and in many cases actually instructive and reassuring.
Young readers may see that whatever they are feeling, whatever mistakes they may have made or be contemplating, whatever aggression they may have been the victim of, they are not alone. We may hope that they come away with an improved ability to set their own boundaries, resist pressure to make bad choices and report people who abuse them.
The state school board has the power to overturn these bans. Its members should quickly get into the habit of actually reading challenged books before making a decision.
This law supposes that, out of all the parents, teachers, librarians, school board members and lawmakers in the world, only a few Utahns are perceptive enough to see how damaging these books are to growing minds. It is a theory both laughable and dangerous.
And it becomes less dangerous the more we laugh at it.
