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My banned book pick is Farenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury (1953).  While there are so many amazing books to choose from (Lord of the Rings, James and the Giant Peach, Cat's Cradle, etc.) I couldn't resist choosing Bradbury's classic novel.  Set in a future in which free thought and expression are discouraged and books are illegal, I can't help but point out the bizarre irony of banning a book about the evils of censorship and book banning.  On the surface, Farenheit 451 was banned because the author used "hell" and "damn" in the text, but it seems pretty clear concerns about the book's message about ran deeper.  The book was published in the era of McCarthyism, yet it encouraged the average person to oppose government's suppression of freedom of speech and expression.  Sadly, over 50 years later, it's still an important (and potentially threatening) message.  I feel lucky to have read Farenheit 451 (twice so far), and to live in a time and place where I can do so openly, and in public.  If we heed Bradbury's warning, and take up his message, I hope to not have to hide my copy in the walls of my air vent any time soon. “A book is a loaded gun in the house next door...Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man?” ― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 

My favorite banned book is also the subject of one of my favorite First Amendment cases (and one of my favorite ACLU cases). In Ulysses, James Joyce attempts to capture every moment of everyday life, in as much detail as possible, and everyday life (at least according to Joyce) includes a great deal of frank thought (and a small bit of explicit action) of a sexual nature. Characters notice the physical qualities of one another, they recall sexual situations from their pasts, and they plan sexual encounters for their future. There is infidelity, there is masturbation, and a sizable chunk of the end of the novel takes place in a brothel. All of this made the publication of Ulysses in 1922 an exceedingly unlikely event. The typesetting of the novel was done in France, by printers who did not know English. This made it easier to avoid censorship, though it did result in a comically high number of typographical errors. Import of Ulysses was banned in the United States under the obscenity laws, and in 1933 Random House and the ACLU arranged a test case to challenge the obscenity ban. Customs was notified that Ulysses was going to be shipped into New York, and the book was seized upon arrival. This led to the court case, United States v. One Book Called Ulysses. James Joyce and the First Amendment were both enormously fortunate that the case was assigned to U.S. District Judge John Woolsey. The government's claim against Ulysses were based on the argument that it was obscene, that it was blasphemy, and that it expressed coarse and barbaric thoughts (essentially, that the book was socially subversive).  Judge Woolsey approached these arguments in just the way one would hope a judge would. First, he read the novel (no easy feat). Then, he sought out other people who had read Ulysses (which was still banned in the entire English-speaking world), and he read commentaries on the novel, which were just beginning to appear. Judge Woolsey concluded that Ulysses was not obscene. "The words which are criticized as dirty," he noted "are old Saxon words known to almost all men, and, I venture, to many women, and are such words as would be naturally and habitually used, I believe, by the types of folk whose life, physical and mental, Joyce is seeking to describe."  Of the sexual scenarios detailed in the book, Judge Woolsey counseled that, "In respect of the recurrent emergence of the theme of sex in the minds of his characters, it must always be remembered that his locale was Celtic and his season Spring." It may seem obvious to us now, but it was a rather novel idea in law at the time that there could graphic descriptions of sex that were not designed to titillate. But, Judge Woolsey concluded that while "the effect of Ulysses on the reader undoubtedly is somewhat emetic, nowhere does it tend to be an aphrodisiac." The history of this case is documented in a wonderful book called "The Trials of Ulysses." And there are a number of great web resources about Ulysses. But, the best way to celebrate banned books week is to just read it. It is not easy, but its totally and completely worth it.

Nobel Prize winning author Toni Morrison’s first novel, The Bluest Eye, stands out as one of my favorite banned books. The novel examines the consequences of social beauty norms enforced by an “outside gaze” that leads people to believe they lack beauty. Specifically, the story follows a young black girl named Pecola who adores Shirley Temple and thinks that blue eyes would make her lovable. In the afterword, Morrison says that her inspiration for the novel came from a conversation with an African-American elementary school girl who longed for blue eyes.   Though published in 1970, the novel broke the top five most banned books as recently as 2006.   

On this day in 1957, my favorite banned book was found to have “some redeeming social importance” by a judge in San Francisco who ruled that it was officially “not obscene.” That a full trial was held to determine such a thing about a book of poems is less a testament to the content of the writing than it is a sad commentary on the role of censorship in the United States during the middle of the last century.   The book, Howl and Other Poems, would hardly seem “obscene” or even controversial by today’s standards, but 55 years ago its countercultural poems were so worrisome to the government that the U.S. Customs Department confiscated 520 copies of the book and police arrested the publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, after undercover officers purchased it from him at his bookstore.   To Ferlinghetti’s rescue came the ACLU, which bailed him out of jail and provided him legal defense in what became a well-publicized trial with lasting implications. Nine experts were called upon to speak to the literary value of the book of poems, and eventually the judge agreed that it was not obscene. As is often the case with censorship, the government’s attempt to keep the public from reading Howl backfired. The trial brought significant attention to the poem, and it went on to become one of the most famous of its generation. The author, a young Allen Ginsberg, was likewise catapulted into fame and continued to influence other writers for decades to come.   Though the “other poems” included in the book are wonderful and noteworthy, it is Howl that is most famous, and perhaps most groundbreaking. Beginning with the iconic opening line – “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,” – Ginsberg proceeds to describe American society in blunt and unvarnished terms. He writes of “dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, with alcohol and cock and endless balls,” and “platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills of Empire State out of the moon, yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars.”   Passages like that – many with overt and unfiltered references to drugs and gay sex – helped cause the uproar over the book’s publishing. But it wasn’t just the content that riled the status quo; the poem’s structure was also a threat. Howl broke new poetic ground not only with its intense and psychedelic imagery, but also with its stream-of-consciousness style, including a 2,124-word sentence that cast aside traditional meter and rhythm like never before.   Today Howl is considered a classic, and rightly so. It is also precisely the type of writing that needs protection from the First Amendment. Its subject matter is intense and wild and rebellious. Its message runs counter to the prevailing themes being pushed by the government, yet it rings true and speaks to the real concerns of a complex society. While at first it was met with doubt and charges of obscenity, over time it became recognized for its ingenuity and innovation, and its influence has grown ever since.   It makes me proud that in 1957 the ACLU was there to defend Ginsberg and Ferlinghetti against the government’s misguided effort to silence them. It speaks not only to our organization’s firm commitment to the ideals of free speech and free press, but also to our longevity. We’ve been fighting this fight for a long, long time. As we celebrate Banned Books Week, poems like Howl remind us why it is so important to challenge censorship, and why the ACLU plays such a critical role in doing so.   I hope you’re enjoying our staff’s “favorite banned book” series, and please join in the fun by sending us your favorites as well. We’d love to hear which banned books mean the most to you, so e-mail me your pick at [email protected] or follow us on Facebook and post your choice in the comments section.

I love a good love story, especially a feminist love story.  Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston is a great love story.  Alice Walker said, "There is no book more important to me than this one."  The narrative moves swiftly, while at the same time compelling the reader to pause and ponder.  Ideas like:  "There are years that ask questions and years that answer."  Followed by questions: "Did marriage end the cosmic loneliness of the unmated?" I don't understand why the book was challenged in Brentsville, VA in 1997.  That was the same year Beloved by Toni Morrison was challenged by a Madawaska School Committee member.  Both books were challenged on the basis of language and sexual explicitness.  The language in Their Eyes Were Watching God is powerful.  Hurston moves flawlessly between two voices, one traditionally literary and one idiomatic, making a powerful statement about what it means to be a black woman in a white, male-dominated culture, while telling a universal love story.