Between The Lines: Sensitivity and Censorship in Literature
In the realm of literature, a heated debate has erupted over the recent censorship of
Roald Dahl’s timeless stories. On one side of the argument, there stands a firm rejection of
any form of censorship, fearing a slippery slope that could lead to the suppression of
numerous literary works. On the other, proponents argue for a more selective approach,
insisting that censorship can protect vulnerable minds without infringing on the sanctity of
free speech.
I believe that selective censorship can serve as a guardian, a protective shield for the
population and a sculptor of a better world, all while delicately balancing the scale of free
speech. The example of Hitler’s Mein Kampf comes to mind, a chilling chronicle of a path
leading to genocide. This text, though unsuitable for young minds, can be a tool for
educating discerning adults. As a stark reminder of historical horrors, it provides a blueprint
for recognition and prevention of further horrors in our modern world. Banning such a
book would be a grave mistake. A crucial distinction is that – impressionable children
would not read these books but adults capable of discerning good from bad.
When I reflect on the disparate fates of Mein Kampf’s author and Roald Dahl the
dichotomy intensifies. Hitler’s legacy remains a dark and universally condemned stain in
the annals of history. In contrast, Dahl’s writing, despite his well-documented
antisemitism, did not live long enough to face the reckoning of cancel culture. Instead, he
ascended to a heroic pedestal in the eyes of the masses, revered for his literary genius. It
raises a disconcerting question – should children be looking up to the words of an
antisemite? The dissonance of this reality is unsettling, leading me to ponder that we
cannot, in good conscience, preserve Dahl’s works in its original form without
inadvertently endorsing his prejudiced views.
In grappling with the complexities of censorship, particularly in the context of
respected works like To Kill A Mockingbird, one must tread carefully. This acclaimed book
faces bans and disputes in various U.S. states, even as it stands as a poignant story
accurately portraying racial issues from the past. The question is: should we sanitize the
language within this literary classic to make it more palatable for contemporary
sensibilities? Perhaps symbolic stars on offensive words or a disclaimer at the outset could
serve as a middle ground, acknowledging their sensitive nature without erasing historical
context. Removing such language, however, risks dulling the impact and obscuring
uncomfortable truths. Balancing the preservation of impactful narratives with respect for
diverse sensitivities requires careful consideration, avoiding unintended consequences for
both mature audiences, while still educating them about realities which touch communities
to this day.
However, what awareness do children have when reading Dahl’s words such as “a
bunch of dangerous females” or “most formidable female” except to normalize this implicit
idea that women should be subservient to men or to laugh at (and not with) characters who
are “terrifically fat”? Words like “queer” which are not taken to designate a multiplicity of
identities, but rather to mean “strange” or “peculiar” at the time of writing have such a
pejorative connotation today. Such words are not essential to the plots of the stories which
would be just as interesting to children without their offensive character.
In comparison, consider the widely accepted practice of censoring swear words on
the radio to shield children from explicit language. This common practice of making radio
edits is met with minimal controversy, and on streaming networks, both explicit and edited
versions coexist. Applying a similar principle to children’s books seems rational, given that
adults typically wouldn’t be the primary readership. Removing offensive language from
these books becomes a measure to ensure age-appropriate content, aligning with the
established norm of shielding younger audiences from inappropriate language prevalent in
other forms of media.
In the delicate dance between preserving literary treasures and navigating
sensitivities the controversy surrounding the censorship of children’s books, particularly
those authored by Roald Dahl, prompts a nuanced reflection. While the initial resistance to
censorship arises from the fear of a slippery slope, parallels with other media, such as radio
edits, present a feasible option to selectively modify content. As we meander through this
thicket, we must strike a delicate balance between acknowledging the importance of
preserving impactful narratives while respecting the diverse sensitivities of readers, both
mature and tender. In this intersection of history and modernity, I think that an enlightened
approach of selective censorship champions both the essence of literature and the evolving
understanding of what is suitable for impressionable minds.
