Last night I signed onto Facebook to find that a friend had posted
this article: http://robot6.comicbookresources.com/2015/06/student-parents-want-college-to-ban-sandman-persepolis-more/
I read it and I’ve been furious ever since. It seems a 20 year
old woman named Tara Shultz, a student at Crafton Hills College in Yucaipa,
California took an English course focused on graphic novels (the modern term
for comic books, in case anyone isn’t familiar), a course which included in its
material Neil Gaiman’s wonderful series Sandman,
which was originally published under DC Comics’ Vertigo line (a line aimed at
adult comics readers) from 1989 to 1996. Poor Miss Shultz was absolutely
shocked to learn that the graphic novels which were the subject of the course,
including Persepolis, which is, after
all, a memoir of growing up during the Iranian revolution (which means it
contains—gasp!—depictions of violence which are based on real events), feature
graphic illustrations and plot elements she found upsetting and disturbing,
which was probably exactly what the creators of the works in question intended (not in a malicious way, but because that's how effective stories are told).
And now she’s feeling traumatized, and, as so often happens in today’s far too
easily offended world, this young woman, with the help of her parents, is
protesting the teaching of these books at her college. Yes, that’s right,
instead of simply avoiding something she doesn’t like, she wants to prevent the
teacher from teaching about them and her fellow students from learning about
them. What a great example of someone missing the point of education!
So here I sit, fuming over this because it’s just so very,
very wrong. I need to express my feelings about this. I really need to let it
out. To do that, I’m writing an open letter to Tara Shultz and posting it here
on my blog. Chances are she won’t see it. And, if through some twist of the wonderfully
connected internet age, it does find its way to her attention, it probably won’t
do any good, considering what she’s already doing. But I’m posting it anyway
because I’m so tired of people thinking being offended gives them the right to
rob other human beings of potential knowledge or entertainment or experience.
Here goes.
Dear Miss Shultz,
That didn’t work out the way you thought it would, did it?
You took a college course in comic books (and yes, they’re all comic books
whether you also use the term ‘graphic novel’ or not.) And you were expecting,
as you said, “Batman and Robin.” But that’s not what you found because, as you
now know, this amazing art form that combines words and illustrations to form a
unique type of narrative is not, by any means, limited to the superhero genre
or other subjects originally intended for children. Why would it be? It’s just
another form of storytelling, and, as with film or prose or theatre or opera,
there’s no built-in limit on what sort of tales can or cannot be told using it.
So what really happened here? An experience at an institute of education took an
assumption you had and shattered it, revealing the truth about the subject
you’d signed on to study. The last time I checked, that’s what’s supposed to
happen when one takes a class. Otherwise, what’s the point? So you should be
happy to have learned something and been shown that comics, like any other art
form, have an infinite number of possible uses as an outlet for artistic
expression. Now, to be honest, I haven’t read Y: The Last Man or Persepolis,
although I would like to at some point (there’s never enough time for a reader
to read all the good stuff!), so most of what I’m saying here is my reaction to
your attempt to hissy-fit your way into Sandman
being, as you so mercilessly put it, eradicated from the system.
I’ve read Sandman,
all of it, and most of the related material that came after the original
series, and many of the other works by its writer, Neil Gaiman, and I can
honestly say it’s one of the most amazing, awe-inspiring works of storytelling
I’ve ever encountered, comics or not. It can make you laugh, cry, fear, smile,
think, hope, cringe, and nearly burst with the sheer volume of wonder Mr.
Gaiman managed to stuff into the series (with help from many of the best
artists in the comics industry). Sandman has won a World Fantasy Award and been
praised by people with names like Harlan Ellison (does his work offend you
too?). It is certainly not, as you said in what the article about you makes me
think is your usual ineloquent, judgmental manner, “garbage.” No, it’s far, far
from garbage. Sandman is a beautiful
tapestry of stories that touch upon all the essential elements of the human experience
as the author masterfully wraps his metaphors in a richly imagined fantasy
universe. Sandman examines dreams and
their relationship to the human soul and tells the tale of Dream (or Sandman or
Morpheus), who is, along with his siblings, Death, Despair, Destiny, Desire,
Destruction, and Delirium (who used to be Delight, one of the Endless, who are
all, to put it one way, incarnations of some of the basic conditions of human
life and thoughts. They’re sort of like a pantheon of gods, but not quite. It’s
been a few years since I’ve reread Sandman,
but the mere thought of that masterpiece of storytelling fills my mind with
a pageant of its best points, like its portrayal of Death as a comforting, witty,
sympathetic, lovely character; the perfection of the story “Ramadan,” which appeared
in the series’ fiftieth issue and was beautifully drawn by the great P. Craig
Russell; the breathtaking moment when the enormous sea serpent appears, brilliantly
timed at a page turn (one of those neat little tricks that the masters of the
comics medium know how to use) in “Hob’s Leviathan; the Shakespeare-related tales
scattered throughout the book’s run; and so many other memorable moments that
have stuck with readers for years after they’ve read them. Yes, Sandman is good, so good, in fact, that
I’d put it on the list of the greatest storytelling feats of the late twentieth
century, in all media, not just comics! This is an important work that should
probably be taught in every college in one course or another.
So here we are, with you upset by something you read (I hate
to tell you this, but upsetting things happen. Just wait till you get out into
the adult world. Trust me, it will make being offended by a comic book the
least of your worries), and now you’re hell-bent on changing the options other
people have about what to read, what to teach, what to experience. You’re
acting like a spoiled child.
You have no idea how the world works, and you have no idea
of your proper place in it. How dare you try to decide what others get to read,
what others get to learn, how artists and writers should express themselves,
and what audiences should get from the works of those writers and artists? How
dare you assume your personal dislike of something and your readiness to be
offended by art and literature (which Sandman
certainly is, and thousands, perhaps millions, of those who have been affected
and inspired by it will attest to that fact) gives you the right to expect that
your tantrum will result in the opportunity being taken away from others to
read such works and maybe, hopefully, be changed by the experience? Who are you
to attempt to limit the experiences of your fellow students, your fellow
explorers of this life we all live together? These are human beings—curious,
motivated, creative, living, breathing, important, wonderful, unique human
beings who are spending time and money to gain the best education they can.
Many of them wish to broaden their view of the world, and understanding the art
that flows from the minds of writers and artists is a part—a very important and
precious part—of that education, of that noble attempt to appreciate every
aspect of this world and those who inhabit it. And you think you have the right
to place limitations on how and when and what those people are allowed to
learn? Are you really trying to do something on that level of evil? Yes, I
called it evil, and I stand by that statement. Demanding that books be pushed
out of the reach of those who wish to read them, for no other reason than that
YOU find them offensive and upsetting is, at the very least, selfish and
arrogant, and, at worst, an act of unspeakably foul intellectual terrorism that
has no place on a college campus, no place in a nation that values freedom, and
certainly no place among any group of human beings who respect each other and
the right of all of us to experience the fruits of creativity and learn from
each others’ artistic endeavors.
When good, honorable, open-minded people don’t like
something, they make a choice to avoid it. And they allow others to make their
own choices. Nobody’s forcing you to read those books. You have all the freedom
in the world to drop the class and take a different one. You don’t like the
contents of the materials? Fine, it’s your right to dislike something. Then
CHOOSE to have nothing to do with Sandman or any of the other books in
question. Walk away. But don’t try to force your choice, your taste in
literature, your personal opinions (and that’s all they are, opinions) onto
everyone else. You want to get upset and offended over a book? Nobody will stop
you. You want to go home and cry to your parents about words and pictures on
pages making you feel uneasy? Go right ahead. But DO NOT come charging back to
school, assisted by your Mom and Dad, and demand that those books, those
experiences, that part of an education, be taken away from your fellow students
as if those books were not worthwhile expressions of human creativity but
matches that must be kept out of the reach of children.
Maybe in the world you WISH existed, books (and comics,
movies, plays, etc.) would contain nothing but sunshine and joy and happy
endings. But there aren’t too many stories out there in any form (at least the
ones adults read) that don’t contain some sort of conflict or problem, and,
yes, those conflicts and problems can often involve upsetting events and ideas,
and violence, and sex (and I absolutely hate that we live in a world where sex
and violence get mentioned together so frequently, as if an act needed to
assure the continuation of the human race is somehow as bad as acts that
involve us destroying each other), and pain, and heartbreak, and confusion. Now
here’s the great secret you may have missed along the road to college if your
life has been as sheltered and sanitized as it seems it must have been if you
think you can just wish some great books out of the curriculum. Are you ready
for this? I hope so, because it’s important. Stories contain unpleasantness
because art is a reflection of life (dressed up in fantastic details, of
course, but inspired by life nonetheless), and LIFE itself contains all the
conflicts and pains and horrors that so upset you in the art it inspired.
So how about this for an idea? Instead of running around
screaming and trying to ban books, why don’t you look at life and reality. I
mean really, really look at it, and find things that are truly worth being
offended by! Don’t protest the stories; protest the realities that inspire the
darkness therein. Wars are being fought and blood being spilled right now in
dozens of nations. Diseases are ravaging people and need to be cured. Children
are being abused and people are living in slavery and poverty. Religious
fanatics are blowing up people who don’t call an invisible being, for whose
existence they have no solid evidence, by the same name. We have racism,
sexism, homophobia, and bullying. Yes, it’s a cruel and nasty world sometimes.
And that cruelty and nastiness is, as is only natural, often reflected in our
art. What you need to learn to do is embrace the creative products of
humanity’s minds and hearts, both its light and its darkness, and laugh because
of it or cry because of it, but, by all means, embrace it, enjoy it, cherish
it. And balance your awareness of that with your awareness of the world’s real
problems. And once you see both sides of the coin, find a problem that really
needs solving. If you so desperately want a worthwhile cause to fight for, then
stop trying to ban books and go do something useful that will really make the
world a better place.
Good luck in life, and may your future be a more open-minded
one.
Aaron Smith
P.S. And to Neil Gaiman, if you happen to read this somewhere on
the internet, you have my sincere gratitude for all your stories.
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