Please, Ban My Books
Dedicated to the Ten Members of the McMinn County School Board in McMinn County, Tennessee
Banned Books Week is once again here. It’s more than a celebration of books and reading. It’s a crusade for the freedom to read what we want when we want. At the forefront of this fight is the American Library Association, that vital organization which—among other things—monitors what books are being banned, where, why, and by who.
Yet my greatest wish is that my books be banned.
My works run a gamut from film history to the Civil War to true crime to the history of the German-American Bund, a confederation of American Nazis in the 1930s. I’ve gotten some great feedback from people who enjoyed my work. I’ve also had people contact me regarding minor factual errors, typographical errors and misspellings, and some grammar issues. In all cases, I love getting these emails. Authors spend years toiling alone in the dark, wondering if anyone is ever going to read the book, let alone sing its praises. It’s gratifying to know that I’ve connected with an audience, even those who care enough about the works to help me fix minor errors that slipped by proofreaders.
As an added bonus I’ve gotten some great hate mail for my Nazi book. You can’t write about Nazism without riling up all the usual suspects. My favorite was from a guy who took to task my depiction of German-American Bund family retreats in the hinterlands of New York, New Jersey, and beyond. He informed me that German-American Bund members were just people who just wanted to be with their own kind. Never mind their Nazi elements. What’s more, my critic eagerly informed me, during that late 1930s era the same region of New York and New Jersey was “thick with sundry Jews.” Now there’s a phrase that rolls off the tongue. On the plus side, although my correspondent was upset over my content—which had the audacity to make Nazis look like bad guys—he did compliment my vigorous writing style. Go figure.
An interesting and mixed review. Yet he did not demand what I still desire: a call to ban my books. Why would I want someone to keep my work out of other readers’ hands? Because banning books is good for business.
Maus in the House
Consider the most recent controversy with Art Spiegelman’s hybrid memoir/graphic novel/documentary comic book Maus. The two-volume work recounts Spiegelman’s conversations with his father, a survivor of Auschwitz. In this groundbreaking work, one that changed literary perceptions of comic books, Spiegelman portrays Jews as mice, Nazis as cats, as Poles as pigs. I’ll spare you my own superlatives, other than to say this is a masterpiece of Holocaust literature.
In March of 2022, a ten-member school board in McMinn County, Tennessee voted to remove Maus from an eighth-grade curriculum studying the Holocaust. Why? There were concerns on Spiegelman’s use of nudity, suicide, and foul language throughout book. One board member, Rob Shamblin, admitted that he hadn’t read Maus, but what he gleaned from reviews was good enough for him. Another board member, Tony Allman, pointed out that Spiegelman had done artwork for Playboy magazine. True enough. But if working for Hugh Hefner precludes a writer/cartoonist from creating work for young people, just wait until the McMinn School Board finds out about Shel Silverstein.
From the objections to Maus, as raised by Messieurs Shamblin and Allman, you’d think life in Auschwitz was a free-for-all sex club along the lines of Plato’s Retreat. Reading the book would encourage young people to get nekkid and engage in carnal delights based on the sexual techniques portrayed within Maus. Also, kids might cuss in the hallways.
The decision to ban Maus from McMinn County school classrooms passed with a unanimous ten votes. Shamblin and Allman were joined in decision by their colleagues on the school board: Jonathan Pierce, Donna Casteel, Mike Lowry, Mike Cochran, Sharon Brown, Quinten Howard, Bill Irvin, and Denise Cunningham You can read the transcript of McMinn County School Board meeting for yourself.
And then…
Even if you didn’t hear the news, you know exactly what happened next. McMinn County schools don’t exist in a vacuum. They are part of the United States. The story of this book banning went straight from the school board meeting to national headlines. Instead of putting the matter to an end, the ten board members were met by a country with reasoned attitudes on books and education.
Spiegelman’s work shot to the top of the bestseller charts. Meanwhile, bookstores across the country donated copies of Maus to local schools. In Knoxville, Tennessee, just north of McMinn County, the store Nirvana Comics launched a GoFundMe campaign to get Maus into the hands of any student who wanted the book. They set an ambitious goal of $20,000. Their final total was $109.998. In my hometown, the Chicago Public Library chose Maus for the One Book, One Chicago reading series.
Thanks to the actions of the McMinn County School Board Maus is finding new audiences. School kids will be learning about the Holocaust, a history that demands to be studied now more than ever, given the shocking lack of knowledge by millennials and Gen Z kids of the Nazi genocide during WWII.
The Upsides of Book Bans
At the end of the day, banning Maus worked, albeit not as the wizened authorities of McMinn County intended. In a delicious irony, a school board that wanted to stop children from learning instigated an educational movement benefiting kids and adults across the country.
What’s more it gets royalties into pockets of deserving writers and artists. Authors rarely make a living on their writing alone. Banning books, as we see time and again, can change the paradigm. Ordering people not to read certain books can great but neglected works into bestsellers and gives deserving authors a financial boost.
My books have never been subject to a ban. Am I not offensive enough? Are the true stories I write about—including Nazis getting the stuffing kicked out of them—not toxic enough?
There must be a way. Please, I beg of you. dear reader. Find something in my books that could be considered “offensive,” something that has the potential to damage a young mind. Flood local school boards and public libraries. Start your writing campaign, form picket lines, post expansive Twitter threads, Instagram outrages, and TikTok rageathons. Make some noise. Ban my books. I need the money.
What the hell, banning my books could even get me a movie deal. You never know.
What are your thoughts on book bans, Maus, and the freedom to read? Add your thoughts to the comment section or talk to me on twitter @RealArnieB
I hope you get banned! Your books are excellent!!