Crescent

Last fall, novelist and memoirist Diana Abu-Jaber received an email from a teacher in Texas regarding her novel Crescent. The email, which Abu-Jaber describes on her website as "sensitive and beautifully-written" presented the author with an agonizing moral dilemma. The parents of three students had objected to the sexual content of four paragraphs in her novel, and the school had subsequently banned the book. The ban originated with the principal, but after teachers protested, he offered them a compromise. The teacher was writing to obtain Abu-Jaber's permission to black out the four paragraphs in question in order to continue teaching the rest of the book:

"If we obtain your permission to black out the four offending paragraphs … we are allowed to include the book in our curriculum….I am willing to ask you to do the unthinkable – will you allow us to mark through these four paragraphs in the interest of introducing a discussion of a culture so frequently demonized and belittled in our part of the country? Will you help me bring into a politically conservative community a sympathetic view of Iraq and Iraqi people?”

What a difficult, terrible choice for an author to have to make about their own work! On the one hand, this is obvious censorship; the ALA/OIF "Expurgation of Library Materials" clearly states that "Expurgating library materials is a violation of the Library Bill of Rights. Expurgation as defined by this Interpretation includes any deletion, excision, alteration, editing, or obliteration of any part(s) of books or other library resources by the library, its agent, or its parent institution (if any). By such expurgation, the library is in effect denying access to the complete work and the entire spectrum of ideas that the work intended to express."

On the other hand, if the teacher doesn't excise the four paragraphs, her students will continue to be deprived of the remainder of the book. Either way, the book will be censored, and the students will be denied access.

In the end, Abu-Jaber decided that while she could not condone the censorship of her novel, she supported the teacher's desire to continue teaching the book. If the school did proceed with blacking out the four paragraphs, she would post them on her website, so that students could still have access to them.

Here is Abu-Jaber's lovely and heartfelt reply to the teacher:

October 2, 2007

Thanks so much for your thoughtful and insightful email. I've spent several days considering your question.

Ultimately, I find that I can't condone your principal's offer to censor my novel in order to make it more acceptable. That said, you do have my permission, to do what you think is right for your students.

In a strange way, I suppose, I think this discussion is an encouraging thing. I find it fascinating that, in our culture of war, macabre violence, and shocking cinema, a literary novel could still carry enough of an impact as to make someone want to silence it.

My husband pointed out that censors are always with us, determining the limits of morality and conventions, in every source of art and information, from books to film to music. He argues, along with you, that it’s better to allow students to read some of a book—indeed most of a book—rather than none at all.

Even though I see the excellent sense of this argument, I couldn’t find a way to feel right about crossing out text. I became a writer in large part because I felt like I couldn’t otherwise make my voice heard. To agree to blackening out such passages feels like colluding in my own silencing.

I once had a debate with a student from Saudi Arabia. I’d complained to him that the problem with America was that nothing was sacred. He’d laughed at me and said, on the contrary, that the great thing about America was that nothing was sacred.

I worry, though, that the American problem is that the wrong things are sacred.

I won’t belabor pointing out the obvious irony of blacking out scenes of love-making in a book that’s concerned with the depiction and the violence of unjust wars and dictatorship. We all already know this—in America, love gets bleeped, the violence stays. The two main characters in Crescent are in love, the few sexual passages in the book are far from graphic. Indeed, the scenes in which they cook and eat together are nearly just as suggestive as the contested passages.

But a friend, upon hearing about this debate, postulated that the real reason the students’ parents are upset is because the book gives a human face to Arab Muslim people.

That might be the part of this that unnerves me the most – and like so many forms of subtle discrimination and racism, we’ll never really know if that’s the case or not. The people who want the book banned may not even be entirely conscious of it themselves.

So I thank you for giving me the chance to think out loud a little about such an important issue. If you decide to proceed with blacking out the passages, I’ll be happy to post the offending text on my website, so those students who might be curious, can decide for themselves if they’d like to see what the fuss is about.

Please feel free to share my response with your principal, the parents, and even with your students. It’s a wonderful object lesson in the free and open exchange of ideas vs. book banning, especially during this, Banned Books Week.

With great respect for wonderful teachers, like yourself,

Diana Abu-Jaber