The burning of an author’s books…has always been the tribute that an ignorant age pays to the genius of its time — Joseph Lewis
In his 1821 play Almansor the German writer Heinrich Heine wrote (referring to the burning of the Muslim holy book, the Koran, during the Spanish Inquisition): “Dort, wo man Bucher verbrennt, verbrennt man am Ende auch Menschen” –“Where they burn books, they will end in burning human beings.” A century later, on May 10th, 1933, Heine’s books were among the thousands of volumes publicly hauled out and burned in the streets by the Nazis in Berlin’s Opernplatz (Bebelplatz). A violent outburst that did, in fact, foreshadow the blazing ovens of the Holocaust.
Wikipedia defines ‘book burning’ as the “practice of ceremoniously destroying by fire one or more copies of a book or other written material.” The practice, usually carried out in public (like public hangings in Medieval times) is generally motivated by moral, religious or political objections to the material. Some notable and particularly destructive book burnings have included:
- the destruction of the Library of Alexandria;
- burning books and burying scholars (they mean ‘live burying’, folks!) under China’s Qin Dynasty (3rd Century);
- Cathar texts in the Lanquedoc region of France in the 13th Century;
- the Talmud in Paris by the French crown in 1242;
- Arabic and Hebrew books at Andalucia, Spain, in 1499;
- Servetus’s “heretical” writings along with the writer in Geneva in 1553;
- Maya sacred books in Yucatan (1562);
- Tyndale’s New Testament by the English authorities in 1525 and 1526;
- Luthar’s Bible in Germany (1624) as ordered by the Pope;
- Robespierre’s destruction of religious libraries in 1793;
- anti-communist books by the Bolsheviks in 1917;
- Jewish, anti-Nazi and “degenerate” books by the Nazis in the 1930s and 1940s;
- Communist and “fellow traveller” books by Senator McCarthy in 1953;
- The Satanic Verses by Muslims in the UK in 1988; and,
- Harry Potter books in various American cities, 2001-2005.
In the 1967 introduction of his novel, Fahrenheit 451 (based on his novella, The Fireman), Ray Bradbury implied that the Nazi book burnings inspired his story. I found his statement both eloquent and powerful: “It follows then that when Hitler burned a book I felt it as keenly, please forgive me, as his killing a human, for in the long sum of history they are one in the same flesh.” For those of you who haven’t yet read his novel (one of my favourite books, ever), this cautionary tale explores a fictional future society that has institutionalized book burning in an effort by authorities to maintain order and ‘happiness’. In Bradbury’s fictional world, firemen don’t put out fires; they start them. The story begins with Montag, an ordinary fireman:
“It was a pleasure to burn. It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blackened and changed. With the brass nozzle in his fists, with this great python spitting its venomous kerosene upon the world, the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history…Montag grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by the flame. He knew that when he returned to the firehouse, he might wink at himself, a minstrel man, burnt-corked, in the mirror.”
Bradbury wove a multi-layered political and social tale that followed one man’s journey to find his soul. Fahrenheit 451 explores the theme of intellectual freedom using censorship as his plot device. Montag is “everyman” who must make a choice for personal freedom at the expense of the “good censored life”. It is the choice all artists must make. In choosing freedom, we make an obligation to respect and tolerate those with whom we disagree; otherwise we are just tyrants and not really free.
The American Library Association defines intellectual freedom as the right of every individual to both seek and receive information from all points of view without restriction. It also encompasses the freedom to hold, and disseminate ideas. Intellectual freedom is the basis for our democratic system. We expect our people to be self-governors. But to do so responsibly, our citizenry must be well-informed. Libraries — and the free internet — provide the ideas and information to allow people to inform themselves.
John F. Kennedy once said that “a nation that is afraid to let its people judge the truth and falsehood in an open market is a nation that is afraid of its people.”
Censorship suppresses ideas and information that certain people — individuals, groups or government officials — find objectionable or dangerous. Censors pressure public institutions, like libraries, to suppress and remove from public access information they judge inappropriate or dangerous, so that no one else has the chance to read or view the material and make up their own minds about it. “Censorship … creates, in the end, the kind of society that is incapable of exercising real discretion,” said Henry Steel Commager.
When does simple disapproval turn into active disallowing; when does banning of books turn into burning of books?
I believe that censorship occurs when one submits to fear and insecurity: the bully being bullied and ruled by his own fear. Okay, we all fear; that’s only natural. We’re animals and fear is a survival instinct we all need and use. But, we don’t live in caves and hunt sloth anymore; that fear can be tempered by a civilized educated culture. Without the benefit of a nurturing faith and belief in the goodness of humankind, fear will lead to prejudice, racism and a general isolationist paranoia.
Winston Churchill said: “You see these dictators on their pedestals, surrounded by the bayonets of their soldiers and the truncheons of their police. Yet in their hearts there is unspoken–unspeakable–fear. They are afraid of words and thoughts! Words spoken abroad, thoughts stirring at home, all the more powerful because they are forbidden. These terrify them. A little mouse–a little tiny mouse! -of thought appears in the room, and even the mightiest potentates are thrown into panic.”
The danger comes when an organized group subscribes to a common fear. It is often driven by a charismatic leader, who has somehow captured that fear, harnessed its raging force then propelled it like a projectile. One’s anonymity and shared (and supposedly diluted) responsibility within the “mob” may compel the individual to commit irrational acts of atrocity he/she would never otherwise contemplate on his/her own. How many of us have been caught up in the mass enthusiasm of a sports match? We’ve all felt it; the power of the mob, its energy crackling in the air around our pounding hearts and cries. To yield to a mob-mentality is to subscribe to a condoned insanity, within which the ‘mob’ takes on its own irrational personality that is more than the sum of its parts…to become a kind of autopoietic entity that swiftly and ruthlessly dispenses its own perverse form of justice.
Perhaps for this reason more than any other, I see the artist’s path as a singular one, part of, yet apart from, the crowd. Neither leader, nor follower; rather, a wizard and a “trickster”, a shining beacon, both reviled and honored simultaneously. We are our books.
It was Victor Frankl, survivor of Auschwitz, who said, “what is to give light must endure burning.”
In her acceptance speech for a lifetime award by the NBA, author Ursula K. LeGuin said:
“I think hard times are coming, when we will be wanting the voices of writers who can see alternatives to how we live now, and can see through our fear-stricken society and its obsessive technologies, to other ways of being. And even imagine some real grounds for hope. We will need writers who can remember freedom: poets, visionaries–the realists of a larger reality. Right now, I think we need writers who know the difference between production of a market commodity and the practice of an art…The profit motive is often in conflict with the aims of art…We live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable; so did the divine right of kings… Power can be resisted and changed by human beings; resistance and change often begin in art, and very often in our art–the art of words. I’ve had a long career and a good one, in good company, and here, at the end of it, I really don’t want to watch American literature get sold down the river… The name of our beautiful reward is not profit. Its name is freedom.”
Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books.