You won’t believe what they’re burning.
What books should be burned? Are there any?
If so, name them.
Are some books so gravely perilous — both to the reader and to society — that burning them could be construed as a righteous act?
What about books throughout our history that have triggered terrible political tyrannies, or world wars responsible for the deaths of tens of millions of innocent people? What about books with highly-objectionable content we might consider revolting? Are there books on subject matter so vile, that torching them would be acceptable?
Allow me to propose a few candidates for the flames: How about “Mein Kampf,” by Adolf Hitler? That would seem to be a pretty popular choice, and a safe bet — except in some parts of Alabama. What about an obscure text containing images of child pornography? No one would dare argue against burning that, right? What about something (which actually exists), called “Kim Kardashian’s Selfie Book?“
Ding! Ding! Ding! Winner! I think we have our first kindling. Anyone got a match?
Seriously, would you ever burn a book? If so, what books might those be?
Of course, burning a book packed with nothing but Kim Kardashian self-taken photos would be pointless, ridiculous even, unless of course, we could somehow persuade the worst human being on the planet to cozy up to the flame and roast some marshmallows, then give her a gentle shove. But, I digress. I can be such a hater, sometimes. It’s easy to get caught up, excuse the pun, the heat of the moment.
On a more intellectual level, my initial response to the query was and remains — no. I don’t believe in burning books simply as a matter of practice. Not at all, no matter how harmful or vulgar the content might be. That objection is based on fine lines, and more precisely — the ambiguity of precisely where to draw them. The bigger issue perhaps becomes this — who gets the draw the lines? Ah yes, there’s the rub. Once books start getting burned, lots of crazy shit starts to happen. We’ve seen it way too often throughout history. Books, witches, Catholicism, Nazis, the Red Guards, the American South, on and on — the evidence is simply overwhelming. And frightening.
Then again upon further deliberation, it’s hard to think of any valid reason to protect something promoting vile acts such as child pornography, acts of torture, animal cruelty, or other disgusting behaviors. Why would anyone object to such deplorable content being erased forever from our collective consciousness? Not just books, the same goes for websites, too, which (hard to believe) exist in considerable numbers on these very subjects (most located offshore beyond the arms of reachable jurisdiction).
For the purposes of further discussion, however, let’s put aside those terribly awful disgusting things (which I think most agree are books that should be burned and websites that should be shut down because they are both universally illegal and acutely harmful to innocents). Instead, let’s discuss books that are entirely oriented towards ideas. Now, we’re onto what should be a far more interesting discussion and potential division.
I’m certain the majority of citizens in many American communities would have no problem burning “The Koran,” especially given the scourge of international terrorism and fears of radical Islam. Think I’m going overboard? Anyone who thinks the book burning frenzy of 1930’s Nazi Germany couldn’t possibly happen here in America (right now) might want to look at our own history, which has lit up some pretty benign materials — including Beatles records and comic books.
Think I’m joking?
Some 49 years ago this month, The Beatles were among the most famous faces on the planet. John Lennon gave an interview to a British magazine reporter (actually some months earlier, before it appeared in print during the summer of 1966) where he proclaimed “We’re more popular than Jesus, now.” Although probably true at the time, particularly among youth culture, the offhand remark wasn’t intended to demean religion, as much as point out the deleterious impact of celebrity infatuation and obsession with fame. The reaction to Lennon’s remark was incendiary. Bonfires popped up in many parts of the United States, where Beatles records were tossed by crowds into piles and burned. Lennon’s new book, which had just been released, “A Spaniard in the Works,” also was torched in some quantity.
So, fascism isn’t possible in America? Okay, whatever.
Albums, books, and pictures of The Beatles take the heat in Georgia in 1966.
It’s hard to fathom that we’ve somehow gone from John Lennon calmly talking about Jesus, all the way to Miley Cyrus parading hee ass on national television and Kanye West behaving like a jerk. If ever there was the perfect “what happened?” respite from sanity, this is it. Here and now. Forget my request for a match. We may need a box of matches, assuming Miley Cyrus can write, and someday pens a book. As I said, we’re all subject to emotions susceptible to a destructive mob mentality. I plead guilty, at least to the temptation.
But let’s go back in time again, just for a bit. I never knew this until I attended something recently called “The Amazing Meeting,” held just last month. The annual conference here in Las Vegas attracted some of the greatest thinkers in the world, mostly affiliated with what’s called the modern-day Skeptics’ Movement. Zach Weinersnith, one of the speakers, gave a lengthy presentation on the history of comic books, which much to my surprise included many periods of censorship throughout American history. The feds even got involved at one point. Congressional hearings were held on the supposed “corrupting influence” of comic books, and laws were enacted which prohibited the publication of certain content. Who could possibly want to censor comic books, you ask? Apparently, a majority of citizens. Yes, it happened. That, and more.
Go ahead: Google “comic book burning” and read the links and check out the images. Excuse me while I go ballistic for about five seconds: THEY’RE BURNING COMIC BOOKS! IN AMERICA! And some of those book burners are still around.
Nope. No way such a close-minded totalitarian culture could materialize in the United States:
Comic books were burned all over the U.S. in the late 1940s. At the time, comic books served somewhat like the does Internet today. Comic books included popular topics such as crime, politics, fantasy, fiction, and the other influences of the time.
Odd isn’t it, that we still equate book burning with the supreme manifestation of evil, Nazi Germany. Then, we somehow expunge our own periods of embarrassing guilt when we’ve done the same thing. Makes you go, hmm.
As you continue pondering the books you still wish to burn, the websites you would prefer to be shut down, the words and ideas you feel don’t believe should be spoken, nor printed, nor read in a civilized society — returning once again to my original inquiry — perhaps the far more revealing answer isn’t in the book selections you’re now contemplating tossing into an open flame. It’s the very prospect that you would ever agree there are thoughts and ideas which deserve eradication, at all.
I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in.
“Fahrenheit 451,” a science-fiction novel written by Ray Bradbury (later made into the 1966 film directed by Francois Truffault) tells the story of a futuristic society where life’s essential challenges and troubles have pretty much all been erased. This modern society has little crime, no mass rebellion, no dissent, nor any poverty. All basic human needs are met, conflicts have been resolved, and all boredom amused. However, there’s a catch: Citizens of this Utopian society are forbidden from reading. All books have been banned. Possession of any book or written literature of any kind subjects the person to immediate arrest. When they’re found, books are destroyed instantly.
How?
They’re burned. In fact, firefighters don’t extinguish fires anymore because everything that’s made is flame retardant. Instead, these futuristic firefighters build fires. When books are reported to be found, the local fire squad is dispatched immediately, the books are found and gathered up, a fire pit is created out in a public square for the public to witness, the books are burned, and the criminal is arrested. Proust. Joyce. de Cervantes. Melville. Shakespeare. Tolstoy. Homer. Fitzgerald. One by one, slowly but gradually, the greatest works of literature by these so-called troublemakers disappear forever.
One inquisitive fireman becomes increasingly curious about what’s being burned and why, and so he begins smuggling the literary contraband away from the very bonfires he helps to ignite. Book burner by day, the rebellious fireman teaches himself to read during the night and eventually becomes a champion of the resistance movement.
That futuristic society in “Fahrenheit 451,” named so because that’s the temperature at which paper ignites into flame, saw the demise of newspapers one at a time, the closing down of book stores, the eradication of long-form literature in favor of superficial amusement requiring much shorter attention spans, interactive game shows intended to tickle the public fancy, and the materialization of a new, far more ominous medium for mass communications called television. It’s a society that’s become affixed and intoxicated thereupon by what happens within the small window of an electronic screen beaming out imagery 24/7.
Good thing that was all just fiction.
Ray Bradbury’s Dystopian science fiction masterpiece written in 1951, “Fahrenheit 451” — made into a movie shown here.