Challenged/Banned Books Exercise
Given our discussions on age-appropriateness and censorship, you should be ready to
prepare a statement as to whether or not a book belongs in a public middle or high school
or in the children's or YA department of a public library. Remember that public librarians
must also make critical decisions about where to place certain titles. Do middle school
titles–for instance, Neil Gaiman's Corline--go only in the YA section or could they also
go into the children’s section? What about popular cross-over titles like Kidd’s The
Secret Life of Bees or King’s The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon? Do they also deserve a
place on the YA shelves? Those librarians working in parochial and other churchsponsored schools must agonize over many of the fiction choices they make. I will
simplify the issue by requiring you to be either a public middle school or high school
media specialist or perhaps even a parent/community member who has been asked to join
a committee to determine if a book is appropriate for a certain level. Of course, this
exercise is complicated by where we all live. Robertsville Middle School in Oak Ridge is
five miles away from the middle school in Oliver Springs, but the two communities
might as well be worlds apart. Community values play an important role in which books
get challenged, but remember: all it takes is one irate parent to create a stir in your
community.
Here’s your task. Select one of the books–I have divided them into two groups–middle
schools (grades 6-8, ages 12-14) and high school (grades 9-12, ages 14-18). It does not
matter from which group you choose. Read the book thoughtfully and critically, noting
language, sexuality, violence, and other potentially controversial issues. Conduct some
research--what age group is the book recommended for? Has it won awards? Has it been
listed in BBYA? Is it recommended by H.W. Wilson's Middle and Junior High School
Library Catalog and/or Senior High School Library Catalog? Think critically about the
literary merit of the book. Now consider the community (make sure you tell me) in which
you live or work. What should happen to the book? Is it OK for regular circulation?
Should it be removed entirely? Maybe checked out only by 8th graders (for middle
school) or juniors and seniors (for high schools)? Shelved in a "parental permission" area
only? Compose an essay in the range of 3-4 pages explaining your decision. To help you
prepare for this essay, I have included a defense of Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady I
wrote a few years ago for Nick Karolides' Censored Books II. Your essay should in no
way be as long as my paper but it might employ a comparable structure and rely on
similar reasoning.
Due: July 28. This project is worth 10%.
Middle School
Anderson, Laurie Halse--Catalyst
Bardi, Abby--The Book of Fred
Bauer, Marion Dane-- Am I Blue?: Coming Out from the Silence
Block, Francesca Lia--Weetzie Bat
Brass, Joshua. The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green.
Brooks, Martha--True Confessions of a Heartless Girl
Brooks, Kevin--Lucas
Burgess, Melvin--Bloodtide
Cadnum, Michael--In A Dark Wood
Carbone, Elisa. Last Dance on Holladay Street.
Cole, Brock--The Facts Speak for Themselves
Cole, Brock--The Goats
Cooney, Caroline--The Face on the Milk Cartoon
Cormier, Robert--The Chocolate War
Crutcher, Chris--Ironman
Crutcher, Chris--The King of the Mild Frontier
Dessen, Sarah--Dreamland
Doherty, Berlie--Dear Nobody
Duncan, Lois--Killing Mr. Griffin
Frank, E.R.--Life is Funny
Freymann-Weyr, Garret--My Heartbeat
Gantos, Jack--A Hole in My Life
Geras, Adele--Troy
Going, K.L.--Fat Kid Rules the World
Greene, Bette--Summer of My German Solider
Harris, Robie--It's Perfectly Normal
Hartinger, Brent--The Geography Club
Hinton, S.E.--Taming the Star Runner
Klause, Annette Curtis--The Silver Kiss
Kerr, M.E.--Deliver Us from Evie
Levithan, David--Boy Meets Boy
McCaffrey, Megan--Sloppy Firsts
Myers, Walter Dean--Fallen Angels
Myracle, Lauren--Kissing Kate
Oates, Joyce Carol--Big Mouth and Ugly Girl
Naylor, Phyllis Reynolds--Alice on the Outside
Peters, Julie Ann--Keeping You a Secret
Plum-Ucci, Carol--The Body of Christopher Creed
Price, Susan--The Sterkarm Handshake
Rennison, Louise--Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging
Rosoff, Meg. how I live now.
Sones, Sonya. What My Mother Doesn’t Know.
Spiegelman, Art—Maus
Stratton, Allan. Chanda’s Secret.
Werlin, Nancy--The Black Mirror
Werlin, Nancy--Double Helix
Williams, Lori Aurelia--When Kambia Elaine Flew in from Neptune
Williams-Garcia, Rita--Like Sisters on the Homefront
Williams-Garcia, Rita--No Laughter Here
Woodson, Jacqueline--I Hadn't Meant to Tell You This
High School
Anderson, M.T.--Feed
Black, Jonah--Black Book: Diary of a Teenage Stud
Blume, Judy--Forever
Burgess, Melvin--Doin' It
Burgess, Melvin--Lady: My Life as a Bitch
Burgess, Melvin--Smack
Cart, Michael, ed.--Love and Sex
Chambers, Aiden--Postcards from No Man's Land
Chbosky, Stephen--The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Cormier, Robert--Fade
Cormier, Robert--Tenderness
Cormier, Robert--We All Fall Down
Crutcher, Chris--Athletic Shorts
Crutcher, Chris—Whale Talk
Frank, E.R.—Life is Funny
Frank, E.R.--America
Gaiman, Neil--The Sandman Series
Gantos, Jack--Desire Lines
Garden, Nancy--Annie on My Mind
Giles, Gail--Shattering Glass
Klause, Annette Curtis--Blood and Chocolate
Koertge, Ron--Stoner and Spaz: A Love Story
McDonald, Joyce--The Shadow People
Moore, Christopher--Lamb, The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal
Peters, Julie Anne. Luna
Plum-Ucci, Carol--Whatever Happened to Lani Garver?
Porter, Connie--Imani All Mine
Rapp, Adam--33 Snowfish
Sebold, Alice--The Lovely Bones
Thomas, Rob--Rats Saw God
Williams, Rita Garcia--Every time a Rainbow Dies
Below is my defense of Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady. Your paper does not have to
be like mine at all. I have inserted it here merely to give you some clues how to approach
your paper.
________________________________________________________________________
Not So Loathsome After All:
A Defense for Hastings and Wijngaard’s Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady
When Selina Hastings paired up with the Greenaway-winning illustrator Juan Wijngaard
to retell the Arthurian legend of The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle, the
result was simply stunning. In 1985, Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady garnered the
prestigious Kate Greenaway Medal, the award given to the best illustrations found in a
British book for children. Since then, it has achieved near classic status. One finds their
book on reading lists throughout the English-speaking world. While there is so much to
admire in these twenty-nine pages, there is also much to be concerned about—from
profanity to sexual innuendo. Wijngaard’s depiction of the gruesome Dame Ragnelle
alone is enough to distress very young children, not to mention parents and educators.
Furthermore, its explicit feminist theme is bound to offend some conservatives. Thus, I
am left with this question, a dilemma faced almost daily by practicing librarians like
myself: do the merits of this book outweigh the controversy it will create? My answer is
an unequivocal yes.
I first encountered Hastings and Wijngaard’s Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady while in
library school and have not stopped it using since. I booktalk it to help introduce a unit on
Traditional Literature and folklore. I have incorporated Wijngaard’s brilliant but at times
bizarre illustrations into a lesson on art history and styles in art. Sir Gawain and the
Loathly Lady remains the centerpiece for my annual multimedia storytelling project.
Then again, I am a high school librarian. The students who make up my audience and
who check the book out from the shelves are not horrified by the ghastly portrayal of the
nightmarish Loathly Lady. Nor does the abusive language of the Black Knight fall upon
innocent and sensitive ears. These kids have heard it all and repeated most; foul language
is not a concern. As for the sexual themes, let’s be realistic. In today’s sex-charged teen
environment, the sexual consummation of a marriage is a mild topic indeed. I figure teenaged males, as devoted fans of misogynistic rap music, could use a strong dose of
feminism. Again, I work with teenagers, and technically speaking, Sir Gawain and the
Loathly Lady is a picture storybook for children. If I were a librarian in an elementary
school or even in a middle school, I would have to ask myself, is this book ageappropriate?
Depending upon which bibliographic source one uses, Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady
is recommended as appropriate from anywhere from first grade to fifth grade, from age
nine to adult. I tend to agree with the latter. At this point, we must recognize some of the
inherent differences between the aforementioned British Greenaway Medal and its
American counterpart, the Caldecott Medal. Librarians and educators often rely upon
awards for justification of a challenged book. If a book has won a major award, then that
award alone speaks for the merit of the book. However, that argument does not
necessarily prove effective in the case of Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady. One can
argue that the British define “children” and “children’s books” more liberally than
Americans do. After all, Richard Adams’ classic Watership Down was published in the
U.K. as a children’s book. While American picture storybooks are typically designed for
the primary grades of kindergarten through third grade, British picture books are
marketed toward a broader audience. Past winners of the Greenaway Medal include
Charles Keeping’s illustrations for Alfred Noyes’ epic poem The Highwayman, Michael
Foreman’s biography War Boy: A Country Childhood, and Alan Lee and Rosemary
Sutcliff’s Black Ships before Troy. Few American educators would argue that these
books—with their mature themes and extensive text—are age-appropriate for children in
the primary grades.
The same holds true for Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady. The vocabulary alone would
make the book difficult even as a read-aloud for first and second graders. Indeed, the
library vendor Follett lists it with a reading level of 4.0. Based upon the Fry Readability
Index, the vast majority of American picture storybooks have a reading level between 2.0
and 3.0. The reading level alone should give us an indication for which audience Sir
Gawain and the Loathly Lady is best suited. Only the star readers below fourth grade
could easily handle many of Hastings’ polysyllabic phrases. Melancholy, grotesque,
rheumy, hideousness, and penitent represent but a few of the words bound to be
unfamiliar to the primary reader. My point here is simple; that in some books but
certainly not all, there exists a correlation between the Readability Index and ageappropriateness. Not only might the vocabulary of the book be confusing to the primary
reader but so also might be the story’s complex plot and mature themes. Yet that which
only so few students could read might easily be read to them. For that reason, I see this
book as a perfect read-aloud for those intermediate grades. Having established the
readability of the book does little to help us determine its appropriateness. For that, more
detailed analysis is needed.
The legend itself is simple enough. While hunting in the forest, the unarmed King Arthur
becomes separated from his party and must make his way back to Carlisle Castle alone.
As he treks through this foreboding forest, he comes to a pond. On the other side of the
pond stands the Black Knight, armored and ready for battle. Without his mystical sword
Excalibur, the king is helpless. Realizing that there would be little glory in a killing a
defenseless opponent, the Black Knight gives Arthur a riddle to solve. If the king cannot
answer the question of what do women most desire, then he will be killed, and his
kingdom will fall into the hands of the Black Knight. For the next three days, Arthur
queries every woman he sees, from high ladies of the court to the goose girls in the
market without finding a sufficient answer. On the third day, Arthur, having resigned
himself to defeat, returns to the forest to meet his certain death. He has no answer for the
Black Knight.
Along the way, he hears a voice from the forest, a voice that is calling him by name. At
the edge of the forest, he spies a creature so hideous it takes his breath away.
Hastings describes the Loathly Lady as:
Her nose was like a pig snout’s; from a misshapen mouth stuck out two rows of
yellowing horse’s teeth; her cheeks were covered in sores; she had only one eye,
rheumy and red-rimmed, and from a naked scalp hung a few lank strands of hair.
Her whole body was swollen and bent out of shape, and her fingers, on which
were several fine rings, were as gnarled and twisted as the roots of an old oak.
Wijngaard’s portrait of the Loathly Lady is, however, what brings this disgusting monster
to life. One would be hard pressed to find a more frightening portrait anywhere in the
pages of children’s literature. Even the most gruesome portrayal of Baba Yaga pales in
comparison to Wijngaard’s eerie Loathly Lady. Though abominable in appearance, she
appears to have a good heart, for she offers Arthur an exchange. If he as a king will grant
her one wish, then she will give him the solution to the Black Knight’s riddle. Desperate
beyond measure, Arthur agrees. The Black Knight had asked what do women truly
desire, and the Loathly Lady whispers the answer in his ear. She then asks for her end of
the bargain—a husband from one of the knights of the Round Table. Arthur is naturally
appalled; how can he ever ask one of his knights, loyal as he might be, to make such an
incredible sacrifice and marry his hag? At first, he refuses, stating that the hag has asked
for the impossible, but she reminds him of the honor of kings. Though deeply troubled,
Arthur agrees. He then bids the creature farewell and rides to meet his adversary, the
Black Knight.
Arthur quickly thwarts his rival by correctly answering his question. Having been bested
by Arthur once again, the Black Knight shouts “God damn you, Arthur. May you roast in
Hell!.” (Hastings, p. 16) If the word “hell” does not scare many teachers away from this
book, then “God damn” surely will. What does one expect the Black Knight, as dastardly
and malevolent opponent as one can face, to say? As the profanity is completely in
keeping with his character, then it is justifiable. A similar example is Katherine
Paterson’s controversial and often challenged The Great Gilly Hopkins. Gilly, as an
unruly foster child, curses like a sailor, but her language is consistent with her character.
The same holds true for the Black Knight. The language issue here differs substantially
from that issue we occasionally encounter in films for children—where certain characters
blurt out profanities for the sole purpose of obtaining a “PG” rating, a move designed to
broaden the audience of the movie and eliminate the “G” rating stigma associated with
films for kids. The Black Knight curses Arthur not for the sake of cursing but rather
because swearing is what Black Knights do. Would Arthur, Guinevere, or Lancelot use
such profanity? Perhaps but we must expect a character as malicious as the Black Knight
to be as vile as possible. The fact that he curses makes him just that—the antithesis of the
honorable and noble Arthur.
That Arthur is honorable brings us to the next issue in the story. He had promised the
Loathly Lady a husband from one of Knights of the Round Table. Although his knights
have sworn fealty to him, even the medieval codes of chivalry have their boundaries.
Arthur is deeply troubled; he owes his life and his honor to the hideous creature in the
forest but how can he ask even his most loyal of knights to make such a humiliating
sacrifice so as to marry this hag? Distressed to the point of tears, Arthur consults
Guinevere. He asks her how he might save his honor. Arthur does not have to wait for her
answer, for Sir Gawain, sitting nearby, has overheard their conversation. To save his
king’s honor, Gawain eagerly volunteers, thereby condemning himself to wed this
monster of monsters rather than a beautiful maiden of the court. Herein lie several of the
significant themes of the book—that a man must be true to his word, that honor should
come before glory, and that personal sacrifices must be made for the good of the whole.
Educators should always ask numerous questions of a controversial book. One of those
questions is whether or not the book contains a worthwhile theme. Ask that question of
Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady, and the answer is self-evident. We are only half way
through the book and have already encountered not less than three critical thematic
issues, those of honesty, honor, and self-sacrifice. Arthur and especially Gawain display
those personal traits and prove the merit of the story’s themes.
Having agreed to marry the Loathly Lady, Gawain goes with Arthur into the forest to
bring the bride-to-be back to the castle for the wedding ceremony. What a dismal affair
the wedding is—no dancing, no drinking, no festivity at all. Indeed, the mood seems
more like a funeral than a wedding. If there is a wedding, then there must naturally follow
a consummation of the marriage. Thus, the scene shifts from the banquet hall to the
bedroom. At this point, we have reasons for reservations once again. The sexuality in Sir
Gawain and the Loathly is very subtle. We as adults know what Gawain must do, but
sexual intercourse is never mentioned in the book. Indeed, sex is scarcely implied to by
Hastings. Thus, parents and teachers need not be overly concerned with the sexuality of
the book.
Nor should they be overly concerned with what happens next. As Gawain is a character
in an Arthurian Legend, we know that his loyalty to his king will be rewarded. His act of
marrying Dame Ragnelle alone has broken half of a horrible curse. When he turns around
in his bedroom, he sees not the deformed Loathly Lady but a stunningly beautiful young
woman. Yet he is immediately faced with a dilemma. The young maiden tells him that
she can only take her current form for half the day. Which would he prefer—that she be
beautiful during the day but hideous at night or beautiful in the evening and hideous
during the day? Again, we encounter some implied sexuality. More powerful than the
subtle sexual theme at work here is the strong feminist one. Essentially, she is asking
Gawain to choose between a “trophy wife” to parade around the castle during the day or a
magnificent woman to be his lover at night. Dame Ragnelle challenges him on both
accounts, pointing out the flaws in either choice. Frustrated and unable to decide, Gawain
gives up; he asks her to choose. Inadvertently, Gawain has broken the other half of the
spell. He has given his wife that which she most desires. A woman most desires the right
to have her own choices. That is the answer to the Black Knight’s question and perhaps
the root of more controversy.
The theme that a woman deserves the right to have her own way is stated so explicitly
and at such a critical juncture in the narrative that it cannot help but have a powerful
impact on its audience. Again, we must ask ourselves if this theme is a worthy one.
While few would deny that women should have the right to freely choose what they want,
such overt feminism—especially in a picture storybook for children—may offend some
conservatives. Here we must remember that the story is set in the Middle Ages, a time in
history when the everyday lives of women was truly “dark.” If the no longer Loathly
Lady and her husband can agree that a woman has the right to make empowered choices,
then what does that say to us in our more enlightened times? I do not wish to delve into
the issues of pro-choice vs. pro-life, but few would disagree that women still are not
always entitled to have their own way. Because the women of today are still constrained
by the rigors of a male-dominated culture, Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady could be
used in the classroom to stimulate critical thought on a sensitive issue.
In the introduction of this essay, I asked myself if the merits of Sir Gawain and the
Loathly Lady outweigh the controversy it might create. Whether or not concerned
parents, teachers, and administrators will buy into my rationale is uncertain. Indeed, any
defense of a challenged book puts the defendant in a precarious position. When I teach
censorship to my students in my children’s literature class, I always stress the
significance of community standards. That Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady has won
awards in the United Kingdom and appears on reading lists in Canada, Australia, and
New York state would be a weak justification on my part if I were defending the book in
rural East Tennessee where I grew up. To religious fundamentalists, international awards
do not equate to merit. Medals alone will not vindicate this book. Nor will reading lists.
The true measure of the worth of this book can best be determined by what appears
between its covers.
Sir Gawain and the Loathly possesses a quality I shall call—for lack of a better term—
universal intrinsic value. In essence, I am saying that this is a good book. Period. End of
debate. And what constitutes a good book? By using the word intrinsic, I am stating that
the book is valued solely on what it is and not what awards it has won or where and how
it has been used. If nothing less, the book contains Juan Wijngaard’s stunning
illustrations, illustrations so well crafted that Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady could
stand alone as an art book. Add to those illustrations Selina Hastings’ masterful retelling
of this well-known Arthurian Legend, and one has the makings of a classic picture
storybook. Hastings’ style turns a good tale into a great one. What makes this book so
successful is that it combines a work of literature—Hastings' retelling—with a work of
art, Wijngaard’s illustrations.
If a book is to have near universal appeal, then it naturally follows that its themes should
possess a universal appeal. I can safely say that the story’s feminist theme will not appeal
to everyone. However, that theme is only one of four. Let us not forget that:
Arthur kept his word to the Black Night and Loathly Lady, both honorable and noble
deeds, B) Gawain chose humility over personal glory, and C) Gawain was willing to
make an incredible sacrifice for the good of the whole. When I ask my students to
evaluate a work of literature, I urge them to consider whether or not the book has more
than one idea. Great stories have multiple themes and layers, all ripe for analysis and
discussion; the mediocre ones represent “one-idea wonders.” Because a picture storybook
contains four integral themes, I realize its value, not only as piece of quality literature but
also a tool to teach students to think critically.
Finally, my last rationale comes from the students to have experienced this book. After
my students, be they the high schoolers who check the book out from my library or the
future teachers in my children’s literature class, have read Sir Gawain and the Loathly
Lady, I know they will say, “This is a good book.” For me, that is rationale enough.
Bibliography
Hastings, Selina. Sir Gawain and the Loathly Lady. Illustrated by Juan Wijngaard. New
York: Lothrop, Lee, & Shepherd Books, 1985.