Mid-February is upon us once again, and with it comes the day of heart shaped candy and spikes in Hallmark card sales—Valentines. In the traditional North American sense, the day is all about romance, heart-shaped-candy, boxes of chocolate, and other lovey-dovey stuff. In Finland, however, the day is aptly called ‘Friendship Day’. Now, I may be biased, but I’ve always preferred that interpretation, and as the saying goes “When in Rome…”.  In embracing this age-old mood, I will now tell you about one of my most cherished relationships, and in doing so, I hope to give back to a kinship I’ve been so lucky to be a part of.

Literature.

No, you did not have a stroke, yes, you really did read that correctly. Literature has been one of my most cherished and arguably longest relationships. Now, I understand that to some this might seem ludicrous, and there might be an impulse to call me crazy, which is fair enough, but I for one am convinced this is on the saner side of statements I have made. See, for me, there’s nothing as comfortingly familiar as picking up a book I’ve devoured countless times over, feeling the spine of it bending and crinkled, falling open to your favorite passage under the weight of habit. For me, books have transcended the mere function of inanimate objects, and become a part of the mosaic that has built a rapport and relationship with the very person I find myself to be this day. And though the ever-growing collection of works of literature that sits on my bulky IKEA shelve takes up crucial storage space integral to studio-living, and though dragging heavy paper bound in alluring covers from house to house through one move to another awards me disgruntled looks and muttering from family and friends volunteering as moving company tribute, I cannot bare to entertain the idea of giving my books away.

And look—before the accusations of materialism come calling, it’s not that. I’m not typically particularly attached to most material things, yet when it comes to my books, those faithful companions, I cannot help but feel attached. Each one of them have enabled me to widen my horizons in ways that nothing else can compare to. My love of literature has provided me with many new acquaintances—as fictional as they may be—who in turn have allowed me to see through new perspectives, experience the minds and hearts of another, and to find kindred souls in most unexpected worlds. I have been exposed to such unique voices and stories that have taken me through the entire scale of human emotion. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve read books I’ve absolutely despised, been privy to characters I cannot stand, and yet, I do not regret having the chance to meet them. They’ve left me with thoughts if nothing else. 

So, when I talk about my love for literature as a relationship, I truly do think of it as such. It is not a monologue, but a rapport that is one of a kind, and subjective to each reader. Throughout my life, I have found myself seeking advice, comfort, adventure, and yes, company from the inked pages of my favorite books.  I simply do not know where I would be today if I had not fallen in love with the written word. Even as I try to imagine it now, the task proves utterly distressing, as I think of all the different voices, I’d have never had the pleasure to hear, the perspectives I’d be left blind to…the sheer lack of it all is discouraging.  

Having said all this, I know the love of literature is not exactly the kind of thing you’d expect to read about on the Valentine’s Day issue of BTSB. I may have found a simpler task in writing about just about anything else entirely. Yet, there are two reasons that compelled me to write this particular piece: The first has to do with the lack of social interaction and the isolation humankind has been subjected to over the pandemic that has made me appreciate the company literature offers in a whole new way, and the second…requires a deep breath and happy thoughts before getting into.

Let me start by saying this, I avoid American news. It gives me a headache. Without sounding over the top, I’ll just say the latest developments have me feeling like I’m observing the strangest Telenovela. Yet, thanks to the beast that is social media, news regarding the ongoings of the U.S.A. seeps its way into my awareness from time to time. On this occasion, the news is rather bleak, as the very thing so near and dear to my heart appears once again to be under attack. Exhibit A:

 Book Ban Efforts Spread Across the U.S. (Harris and Alter, 2022). 

Trust me, exhibit A does not make me a happy camper. In fact, it makes me a miserable camper, middle of the woods, no shelter, bear attack, strung-by-bees kind of camper. And yet, it does not exactly shock me. For the sake of carrying on the delightful camping analogy, in terms of banning books, the U.S.A. has a history that reads like the longest, most arduous camping trip you could ever imagine. However, one hopes—if only secretly—that we’d move on from banning books, especially when its educational institutions we’re banning them from. And yet the above mentioned New York Times article (Harris and Alter, 2022) reveals that books are being challenged by various sources—including  but not limited to, parents, politicians, and activists—in  amounts that could justifiably be called ludicrous. What’s more, the article puts emphasis on the way this phenomenon is being approached. Though the U.S.A. has a history of banning books, it seems to have been taken up a notch (or two…million) as the tactics in getting books banned appear highly politicized and pursued through legal means. And here’s the kicker, it’s at the point where teachers and librarians are proverbially having to sleep with one eye open lest they face legal consequences for the hideous crime of providing or teaching arguably notable literary works. 

There’s no shortage of books that have been or are at risk of being banned from school libraries or learning modules across the U.S.A. However, the majority of those under fire focus on gender, sexuality, and race—topics that are important, if not essential to discuss in the educational context. Yet, the award for most startling—and let’s be honest, mindboggling—ban goes to McMinn County Board of Education in Tennessee for their unanimous decision to remove the graphic novel Maus (Spiegelman, 1997) from an eighth-grade—wait for it—Holocaust (yes, you read that correctly)—Holocaust—module. And for what reason? —You might ask. As Harris and Alter so eloquently summarised it “because of nudity and curse words”.

If you’re anything like me, you might be feeling a bit gobsmacked. I’m not one to usually be left speechless, but something about this very unsurprising piece of news had me surprisingly ticked. Ticked enough to want to pick the brains of those more familiarly acquainted with the American experience TM and who had some academic street cred. Lucky for me I had the opportunity to discuss this topic with our very own members of the English Department, Elizabeth Peterson, PhD and Howard Sklar, PhD, who also conveniently have firsthand experience of being American. 

As it just so happens, I am currently taking Dr. Peterson’s course on Language and Gender, which touches on many of the topics I found myself contemplating when faced with the news of the new wave of book banning taking place in the States. Though the course would more accurately be described as having focus on linguistics rather than literature, it has drawn attention to the very real impact language has on society, especially when marginalized groups are considered. Now, considering that the majority of the books under threat are those that discuss issues of gender, race, and sexuality, I thought it only appropriate to inquire Dr. Peterson’s thoughts on the subject.

Unsurprising—comes her initial response, though not for the lack of acknowledgement that the entire affair feels wrong. Yes, that we can agree on. The whole ordeal of banning books hardly comes as a surprise, yet it feels icky. However, Dr. Peterson explains that just because a title is banned, doesn’t mean it is out of reach for those who wish to read it. She says that even having grown up in one of the arguably most conservative areas in America, the kids who wanted to, would find a way to get the information they wanted, be a title banned or not. This is surely truer now more than ever, considering just about every middle-to-high school kid has access to the internet and all its horrifyingly vast amount of information. In fact, Dr. Peterson suggests that the efforts to ban books from schools just seem futile, redundant. In some ways I am inclined to agree, the act feels performative at best. Part of me wants to laugh at the idea, knowing that content on sites like Archive of Our Own would make most banned books seem like an episode of the Teletubbies, all the while being freely available just a few meager clicks away. Yet the mere notion of censoring literature, especially in the context of education, triggers somewhat of a fight or flight response in me.

Futile as banning books in some schools across the pond in the U.S.A. may feel, it does speak to a larger pattern. Dr. Peterson suggests the act of banning books could stem from the fear of giving visibility to that which is different or other. Similarly, in my discussion with Dr. Sklar, the idea of avoiding uncomfortable topics came up in rationalizing the push behind specific titles being banned. Now, I should probably mention that in my six years of being an English student, I’ve just about taken all –save for one—literature courses taught by Dr. Sklar. Some of them I attended by pure coincidence, but the optional ones I gravitated to because of the specific topics—Immigrant Literature/Disability Literature— neither of which I would describe as comfortable or uncomplicated. All this, and the fact that Dr. Sklar is in charge of teaching most of the American Literature included in our degree, I was very excited to hear his thoughts on the topic of banning books. 

Dr. Sklar says he is not a fan of censorship in general. Having taught in the American school system, he is no stranger to the strain that banning works of literature puts on the educators responsible for teaching subjects such as English and Drama. However, during our conversation Dr. Sklar points out that his approach to teaching literature is not that of dismissing or ignoring works that deal with uncomfortable or controversial topics. It is true that even works that are highly praised and rightfully so, can still be arguably problematic. Titles such as To Kill a Mockingbird and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and even Maus have been celebrated staples in some syllabi, yet they too are not without fault in contributing to harmful stereotypes. Dr. Sklar clarifies that to teach literature, especially the kind that discusses difficult and ethically problematic themes, as important as it is, requires the educator to provide their students with the proper context in which to unpack and explore the text. It is not enough to simply chuck a book at students and send them on their merry way.

I think this is a lesson I’ve inadvertently learned in my relationship with literature, as I’ve definitely read works that are questionable in one way or another, but that does not diminish their value, if they are handled in the right way. There’s no shame in questioning or critiquing a book you’ve enjoyed reading. In fact, if one is to look at their relationship with books as being similar to that of one with friends, is it not the duty of good friends to call each other out when they say or do something completely out of pocket? I’d rather like to think it is.

Now, I clearly find it important to discuss literature being censored. I mean, duh, I’ve dedicated an entire Chief Editor’s note to my love of literature. Obviously, I hold my relationship with literature very close to my heart. There are books I’ve read, most in my middle school and high school years, that have made me feel less alone, taught me about myself, and made me feel seen. It troubles me to think that someone feeling lonely, confused, or invisible, might miss out on the friendship, comfort, and validation a good book can offer, simply because those who would rather not discuss uncomfortable topics that do not conform to a very narrow world view would have a volume banned. But I suppose it is a valid question to ask. Why should we, outside of the U.S.A. concern ourselves with what they do with books? Why should we care? I posed this simple but loaded question to both Dr. Peterson and Dr. Sklar. Both suggest we should care, because despite banning books in America, might seem like a U.S.A. problem only, it is the undeniable truth that we are all a part of a global community, and it is important to remain vigilant with such matters. It would be foolish to dismiss the massive cultural and political influence the U.S.A. has, especially considering that movements and symbols native to the U.S.A. have spread across the globe. 

We here at BTSB try to give everyone a voice, which can be seen in our diverse archive of written content, and thus find ourselves invested in the wellbeing of literature and the freedom of expression. Now, we may not have the influence to impact decision makers in Tennessee school districts, but what we can do, is offer our readers some food for thought. In fact, this Valentine’s Day, I’d like to encourage you, for the love of literature, introduce yourself to a new book—who knows, it might be the beginning of a lifelong love story!

In the meantime, we here at BTSB are happy to provide you with some brand-new content to quench your reading cravings. Our special Valentine’s Day menu includes an assortment of poetry, creative writing, articles on friendship and love, listicles, and even an interview of SUB’s new president.

Happy Reading!

Sources cited:

Harris, E.A., Alter, A., 2022. Book Ban Efforts Spread Across the U.S. N. Y. Times.