This is true Liberty when free born men
Having to advise the public may speak free,
Which he who can, and will, deserv’s high praise,
Who neither can nor will, may hold his peace;
What can be juster in a State then [sic] this?
Euripides, The Supplant Women
October is the month of autumn, cooler weather, goblins, apple picking, and yes, banned books week. Specifically, banned books week is 4-10 October, and all that week, and this month, brings out all the demigorgons to scare people out of their wits: librarians, booksellers, publishers, journalists, teachers, and readers. The whole point of the week and the month is to warn everyone that books are being banned, with libraries displaying said banned books. The irony is lost on the lot of them: how can they be “banned” when they are still accessible to all?
Right here in River City, we have this very matter being discussed. From published reports that Comus has seen—newspapers and radio—we are on the verge of a reading apocalypse. We are told that the York County Library Board, with pitchforks and matches, is ready to burn books even as I write. Some on that board warn us fiercely (and hopefully, it seems) that a lawsuit is imminent, as if no one ever has filed a frivolous lawsuit.
Let us disambiguate this, as grammarians are wont to say.
First, the books in question were challenged by patrons and then moved to a different location in the library by the York County Library Board; hence, they are not “banned.” To say so is a trigger word meant to raise hackles. A banned book means it is not available. Even the Internet gets this right: “A banned book is a book that has been completely removed from a school curriculum, school library, or public library system because someone objected to its content.” These books, however, are still in the library; they are still available to anyone, even to children if their parents agree by signing off on a universal checkout card. This card takes all of perhaps sixty seconds and can be done by either a parent or the child’s guardian. Moving books from the juvenile section to the adult section means that parents who do not want their children reading these books can be assured that their children will not read them, even if the child is left in the children’s section to browse.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but the 2022 federal (Fifth Circuit) lawsuit (Little v. Llano County) ruled that public library patrons “do not have a First Amendment right to receive information that stops local officials from curating or removing collection items.” When taken to the U.S. Supreme Court, the Court declined to rule, allowing the Fifth Circuit ruling to stand. Banning means making totally unavailable, and so, when, for example, Russia banned Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, Samizdat underground publications arose because said books were not available anywhere. Not only did this not happen with the YCL Board, but the board is lawfully within its right to curate as it did. Whatever lawsuit some board members are hoping for is a velleity not based on law. Even Island Tree Union Free School District No. 26 v. Pico (457 U.S. 853, 1982) held that schools have the right to remove books that are “educationally unsuitable.”
But why do they need to be moved at all? This is the second reason: South Carolina law. The content of the materials and Proviso 27.1 provide the answer. Proviso 27.1 demands that public libraries “certify to the State Library that their county libraries do not offer any books or materials that appeal to the prurient interest of children under the age of seventeen in children’s, youth, or teen book sections of libraries and are only made available with explicit parental consent.” “Prurient” is further defined in SC Code § 16-15-305 (2023) as “a shameful or morbid interest in nudity, sex, or excretion and is reflective of an arousal of lewd and lascivious desires and thoughts.” The law goes on to outline in graphic detail what this means.
The books moved by the board—not banned—contain these very objectionable acts, and so the books violated Proviso 27.1. I urge readers to look into these books and see for themselves. While the books do not dwell on various sex acts–oral, anal, orgasms, and the like—some books do touch (no pun intended) on these acts. To violate Proviso 27.1 jeopardizes the library’s state funding. Parents who wish their children to read these books can easily make that possible. (Parents who do not, may want to be more vigilant about their children’s friends who do read them.)
Sadly, the State Library of South Carolina equivocates on Proviso 21.1 in its press release on the Proviso (which, by the way, has the effect of law until overturned) by arguing that the Miller Test is still in effect. It is not. One reason behind Regulation 43-170 for school libraries is the impotence of the Miller Test. Miller allows for all sorts of vulgarisms so long as the book has “literary merit” and is not the sole point of the book. The works of the Marquis de Sade are allowed under Miller. Nothing in either the Proviso or the accompanying law says anything about the “book as a whole.” This is a prevarication on the part of the State Library to avoid doing what the legislature mandated.
Authors often argue that these prurient sections are a very, very small part of the book. This is often true in books that are hundreds of pages long. What begs the question, however, is why such “small” and “insignificant” passages must be included at all. The passages do not even serve what authors refer to as McGuffin episodes, random episodes that have no bearing on the storyline, its theme, or value, to move the story along. Take, for example, one book in which the characters, male boys, discuss how a female character orgasms. Why are such scenes important or needful at all if they are really only a small, insignificant part of the book?
Here’s a picturesque way to think of it. If I offer you a cup of punch from a punch bowl that contains a few soiled shoes, are you willing to allow me to fish around those shoes, and give you a cup of bilge-watered punch?
Here’s the oddity that faces us. One hundred years ago, public library librarians were the stalwarts of book selection, making certain that books chosen were age- and developmentally appropriate. Sometime around the 1960s (of course, of course), that began to change, and now librarians, many of them, are crusaders at the vanguard of progressivism and free sex for everyone. Let that sink in fully before you go vote to return to the Clinton-Obama-Biden mores. Remember: when people cease to practice virtue privately, they begin to practice vice publicly.
York County residents should cheer the York County Library Board for its willingness to protect all children.
