Books, Censorship, Intellectual Freedom

Banned and challenged books: Libraries take a stand

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Spring of 1975: I was an idealistic, although in retrospect naive as to how power actually works in practice, 18-year-old advocate of intellectual freedom as Grade 12 wound down and I saw the increasing efforts of Ken Campbell and his ilk attempt to ban important literature in high school libraries and banish it from the curriculum. Campbell, a Baptist evangelical from Milton, Ontario, had founded a lobby group called Renaissance Canada a year earlier in 1974. While the library and English Department at Oshawa Catholic High School were in no way disposed to buckle under to such a censorship challenge, I saw the fight was real, especially in Peterborough and surrounding area, as downtown Pentecostals, not to mention Bible Belt evangelical adherents from Burleigh Falls to Buckhorn, on the southern edge of the Canadian Shield north of Peterborough, were making rumblings and by early 1976 would publicly launch the Peterborough Committee for Citizens on Decency as their campaign vehicle to ban Margaret Laurence ‘s The Diviners, published just two years earlier in 1974, taking their fight to the public in venues ranging from signing petitions in Peterborough churches to letters to the editor in newspapers, right up to appearing as delegations before trustees of what is now known as the Kawartha Pine Ridge District School Board. Laurence was living in Lakefield near Peterborough.

In 1968 the Ontario Ministry of Education had given local school boards the authority to determine which literary works would be used in English classes. In the winter of 1976, writes Sheila Turcon, an archivist in the Mills Memorial Library’s William Ready Division of Archives and Research Collections at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario, “complaints were lodged at two Peterborough high schools against both The Diviners and Alice Munro’s Lives of Girls and Women (1971). Both books should have been reviewed by a special committee which had been established two years earlier to review complaints against other books. However, only Laurence’s book was dealt with by the committee.

“The book had been opposed by Jim Telford, a board of education trustee and member of the Pentecostal community, and Rev. Sam Buick. They and their supporters told the Globe and Mail that the novel ‘reeked of sordidness.’ The review committee did not agree and gave its unanimous support for the retention of The Diviners.”

Buick at the time had pastored the Dublin Street Pentecostal Church in downtown Peterborough for three years since 1973.

“On April 22, 1976, the full board decided ten votes to six to keep the book on its approved textbook list,” Turcon said. “Despite this ruling, only Bob Buchanan from Lakefield Secondary School continued to teach it.”

In the end, the new Campbellites did not prevail, but the fight was very public, very protracted and very nasty.

It was in the months leading up to the emergence of the full backdrop in Peterborough, living  50 miles or so down the road to the southwest in Oshawa, I took it upon myself to form a group of high school students from the half dozen or so high schools in Oshawa at the time called the Students Against Arbitrary Censorship Committee (or S.A.A.C.C.) Not the most elegant name or acronym, but I hadn’t enjoyed the benefit of a Loyalist College advertising or marketing course at that point in my life. That would have to wait until the early 1980s when I studied print journalism. So there it was, the Catholic kid, from the faith that brought you the Index Llibrorum Prohibitorum, leading the freedom-to-read charge. Poor Sister Conrad Lauber, my erudite principal. No doubt my S.A.A.C.C. and later Grade 13 high school debating activities have been almost enough on their own to merit her a get-out-of-purgatory-free card, in the unlikely event she might some day need it, simply for enduring my campaigns and playing devil’s debating advocate under the school’s banner. And while my school, and Sister Conrad, stood up, however, uncomfortably at times for my free speech rights, not all Catholics by any means did. After one of my letters to the editor appeared in the op-ed section of the Catholic Register, a gentleman from Geraldton, Ontario took the trouble to write me a handwritten letter, sending it to my home address on Nipigon Street, telling me I was heading for hell. Anonymous telephone calls crisply conveyed similar messages. Pity my long suffering parents. Aside from The Diviners, some of the books Campbell wanted to ban 40 years ago, such as J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, have remained perennial favourites of censorship advocates, and still show up on banned and challenged book list challenges.

When I said earlier I was naive at 18 as to how power actually works in practice, it is because I thought things like common sense and logic would trump know-nothing ignorance in any given debate and decision, and those advocating banning a book might actually have bothered to read it first. That sort of thing. And I didn’t necessarily think this would be a life-long struggle between the forces of intellectual freedom and ignorance, not to put too fine a point on it. Of course, I was wrong on all counts. Hence the need 40 years on in the struggle to have annual events like “Banned Book Week” from Sept. 27 to Oct. 3, spearheaded by sponsoring organizations such as the Chicago-based Office for Intellectual Freedom of the American Library Association, the American Booksellers Association, the Association of American Publishers, the National Association of College Stores and PEN American Center.

While I still feel just as strongly and passionately about intellectual freedom and taking a stand against book banners, I have also these many years on, learned to see the world, dare I say it, in many more shades of grey, than my young black-and-white 18-year-old idealist self. I may still disagree with book banners, but Campbell, who I never actually met, was something of an evangelical caricature for me as a teenager. I know real-life evangelicals now and count a fair number as good friends. They’re not all book banners. And being a Protestant (or Catholic for that matter) evangelical is not incompatible with being an intellectual. Who would have thought that at 18? Not me. And even those who would still ban books I wouldn’t, I’d be hard pressed not to concede that both the world is a nastier, trashier place in some ways than it was 40 years ago (probably the lament of every aging generation, I know) and that I really can’t always accurately judge people’s motives from the outside and what’s inside their hearts, a gift I seemed to have thought I possessed in my youth.

After spending upwards of 30 years working in print journalism, with the exception mainly of the five-year period between 1990 and 1995, when I redressed my youthful lackluster academic performance in university by returning first to Trent University in Peterborough to complete my Honours B.A. in History and then on to Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario, as an Ontario Graduate Scholar, for a couple of years to do a master’s degree in History, I had the opportunity to return in a small way earlier this year to academia working simply as a clerk at the University College of the North (UCN) new Thompson campus library here in Northern Manitoba. There is something so very Victorian in that word clerk that makes me want to pronounce it “clark,” as I imagine perhaps joining Charles Dickens over a Christmas bowl of Smoking Bishop, that particular concoction of Clementines, sugar, cloves, moderately sweet red wine and ruby port.

I am happy to note the “Mission of the University College of the North Libraries” explicitly affirms endorsing “the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which includes, along with the right to express thoughts publicly, the fundamental right of access of every person to all expressions of knowledge. The intellectual freedom fostered and protected by the enshrinement of these rights is basic to the proper functioning of the University and to the healthy development of Canadian society of which it is a part. The University College Libraries supports the principles of intellectual freedom as they are pertinent to all of its activities.”

The 10 books pictured here – Ken Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men and The Grapes of Wrath, Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye and D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover – are all found in our stacks for students, faculty, staff and community users to borrow and read. They are also books that have been banned or challenged, some perennially, in other places.  “A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group,” says the American Library Association.  “A banning is the removal of those materials. Challenges do not simply involve a person expressing a point of view; rather, they are an attempt to remove material from the curriculum or library, thereby restricting the access of others.”

The American Library Association “promotes the freedom to choose or the freedom to express one’s opinions even if that opinion might be considered unorthodox or unpopular and stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of those viewpoints to all who wish to read them.”

You can discover the “top ten frequently challenged books lists of the 21st century” to date and the methodology used to make that determination by checking out the Office for Intellectual Freedom of the American Library Association webpage http://www.ala.org/bbooks/frequentlychallengedbooks/top10#toptenlists

The Banned Books Week website “drew more than 92,000 users and had more than 207,000 page views in 2014,” Publishers Weekly noted Sept. 18. “, Banned Books Week 2015 will, for the second consecutive year, focus on a single category – this time young adult books, which dominates the list of the 311 challenged books in 2014, led by Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. (In 2014, graphic novels was the category of focus.) “There have been very serious flaps over why YA books have very dark themes,” noted Judy Platt, chair of the BBW co-ordinating committee and director of Free Expression Advocacy at AAP.”

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Mission Church

Not for the faint of heart: Father Subhash Joseph to transfer from St. Lawrence Church to the Church of St. Gertrude in Pelican Narrows and the Church of Our Lady of Seven Sorrows in Sandy Bay, both in remote northeastern Saskatchewan

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Days after he began what was originally expected to be a second three-year appointment as co-pastor of St. Lawrence Roman Catholic Church here in Thompson, Manitoba, Father Subhash Joseph, a missionary priest from India, said July 18 he is being transferred to the repair-challenged Church of St. Gertrude in Pelican Narrows, Saskatchewan, located 120 kilometres northwest of Flin Flon; 388 kilometres northeast of Prince Albert and 525 kilometres northeast of Saskatoon, and the Church of Our Lady of Seven Sorrows in Sandy Bay, at road’s end for the gravel winding road, 72 kilometres north of Pelican Narrows. The transfer, requested by Father Joseph, as he is known, and approved by Archbishop Murray Chatlain, archbishop of the Archdiocese of Keewatin-Le Pas, will probably take place in October. He will serve in Pelican Narrows and Sandy Bay by himself, replacing  Father Susai Jesu, an Oblate, also from India.

Father Joseph, along with Father Guna Pothula, his co-pastor at St. Lawrence Church in Thompson, are both from India and members of the Congregation of the Missionaries of St. Francis de Sales, founded by Father Peter Marie Mermier from Vouray in the parish of Chaumont en Genevois and the Diocese of Annecy in the Savoy region of France in October 1838 for parish mission, foreign mission and youth education. They are also known as the Fransalians. Pope Pius XI proclaimed St. Francis de Sales in 1923 as the patron saint of writers and journalists. Francis de Sales was born in France and lived at the time of the Protestant Reformation, becoming Bishop of Geneva. He had lots of exposure to Calvinism and predestination and was noted for his diplomacy in the volatile, heated religious climate of the day in Switzerland. He’s honored as one of the doctors of the Catholic Church and the worldwide Anglican Communion.

The missionary order allows it priests to live abroad for up to 10 years. Father Joseph and Father Guna arrived in Thompson together three years ago in July 2012. Their requests to have their terms extended for a further three years were approved earlier this year by the provincial superior of their missionary order in India and the local archdiocese here. Father Guna, who will be staying on at St. Lawrence in Thompson, will now be joined in due course by another priest, likely from Andhra Pradesh in southeastern India where he is from, and also a member of the Congregation of the Missionaries of St. Francis de Sales.

In Cree, Pelican Narrows  is called Opawikoscikcan, which means “The Narrows of Fear.” The community consists of the Northern Village of Pelican Narrows and Pelican Narrows 184B Indian Reserve, the administrative centre of the Peter Ballantyne Cree Nation. The combined population is about 2,700, with more than two-thirds of the population – about, 1,900 of the 2,700 residents – living on the reserve. Sandy Bay’s name in Cree is Wapaskokimawn, meaning “okimaw,” which is “boss” in Cree, or “non-native agent.” With a combined population of about 1,200, the community, like Pelican Narrows,  is also split into two parts: the Northern Village of Sandy Bay and  Wapaskokimaw Indian Reserve No. 202, with about one quarter of Sandy Bay’s combined population being members of the Peter Ballantyne Cree Nation.

Major businesses and industry in Pelican Narrows consist of the Co-op Fisheries and Fish Plant, The Northern Store, Mum’s Restaurant, Charles Confectionery, PBCN Band Store, Pearson Enterprises, Nikatosik Forestry and Pelican Narrows Air Services.

In 1876, Father Étienne Bonnald, a member of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate (O.M.I.), often known simply as Oblates, and also a missionary order, sought to establish a Catholic presence within the Village of Pelican Narrows, which had started out as a Protestant community. St. Gertrude was erected two years later in 1878.

The Church of St. Gertrude in Pelican Narrows, where 90 per cent of the parishioners are Cree, had fallen into such a state of disrepair in recent years, Catholic Missions In Canada identified it as a mission church it was going to help fund repairs for.  St. Joseph’s Catholic Parish Social Justice Committee in Moose Jaw, at the suggestion of Catholic Missions In Canada, began helping with repairs through its “St. Gertrude’s Project” in 2010. You can watch a short YouTube video on the project here at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IeLwJCejEJQ

Les Oblats de Marie Immaculée, or The Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate (O.M.I.), established the first mission at Ile-À-la-Crosse, Saskatchewan in 1860.

Another Oblate priest, Father Ovide Charlebois, arrived as pastor of St. Gertrude in 1900. While in Pelican Narrows, he constructed a new church with a bell, and a statue of Our Lady of Lourdes was erected. Ten years later,  on March 4, 1910 when the Vicariate Apostolic of Keewatin, forerunner to today’s Metropolitan Archdiocese of Keewatin Le Pas, was created from territory of the Diocese of Prince Albert, and Charlebois, elevated to bishop, was appointed as its first ordinary on Aug. 8, 1910 and installed as vicar apostolic on March 7, 1911.

The Archdiocese of Keewatin-Le Pas takes in some 430,000 square kilometres and stretches across the northern parts of three provinces – Saskatchewan, Manitoba and a small portion of Northwestern Ontario.

The farthest point west is La Loche, Saskatchewan., near the Alberta border. The farthest point north is Lac Brochet here in Manitoba. The distance from Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Cathedral in The Pas, which serves as the archdiocesan seat, to La Loche by car, is 850 kilometres – an 8 1/2 -hour drive – and the archbishop, as shepherd of the flock, has to travel through the Diocese of Prince Albert in Saskatchewan to reach La Loche in his own archdiocese on travelling pastoral visits.

The farthest point east travelled is Sandy Lake, Ont., a fly-in and Northern Ontario Winter Road Network-only remote Oji-Cree First Nations community in Northwestern Ontario, 450 kilometres northeast of Winnipeg and 600 kilometres northwest of Thunder Bay.

The distance from The Pas to Sandy Lake is a combined six-hour drive to Winnipeg, followed by a one-hour plane ride.

Lac Brochet is reached by a four-hour drive from The Pas to Thompson and then an hour flight from Thompson to Lac Brochet. En route to Lac Brochet, the archbishop sometimes stays at the rectory at St. Lawrence Church on Cree Road in Thompson overnight waiting to catch a flight.

The Congregation of the Missionaries of St. Francis de Sales has long had a presence in India, dating back to 1846.  The Visakhapatnam Province of the Congregation of the Missionaries of St. Francis de Sales in India also has missions in Trinidad and Papua New Guinea, as well as the Archdiocese of Keewatin-Le Pas here in Canada.

Father Joseph joined the seminary at the age of 16 in 1998 and was ordained a priest in 2010. He is from Therthally in Kerala on the Malabar Coast in southwestern India, which dates back  some 20 centuries to the Christians of St. Thomas, named for Saint Thomas the Apostle, also known as “Doubting Thomas,” who is believed in apocryphal literature to have arrived in India around 52AD, seeking converts to Christianity. He was martyred, it is believed, about 20 year later in 72AD, near Mylapore, India, lanced by a spear as he prayed kneeling on a stone.

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Journalism

Following the Davies’ newspaper legacy

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In largely unplanned and unforeseen ways, I found myself spending some of my earlier years in the newspaper business in the 1980s and 1990s, working in the shadow of Canadian journalism greatness at two of what had been the Davies’ family flagship Ontario daily newspapers.

It was an odd place to be situated historically, as both papers were during my stays with them one corporate owner removed from their Davies’ days, and to some degree still basking – deservedly or not – in some residual reflected glory from that earlier era, an era now sadly long dissipated many more corporate owners removed from either my time or the Davies’ time with them.

From 1992 to 1996, I worked part-time, mainly on weekends, as a reporter and copy editor at The Kingston Whig-Standard while I worked on a master’s degree in 20th century United States history at Queen’s University. Queen’s, founded in 1841 by Royal Charter issued by Queen Victoria, declaring the new school would both train students as Presbyterian ministers and instruct youth “in the various branches in Science and Literature,” remained 150 or so years later one of Canada’s Crown jewels of higher learning.

The Kingston Whig-Standard, Canada’s oldest continuously published daily newspaper, for a time had been a gem of its own as Canada’s best medium-size daily newspaper. The illustrious ownership of the British Whig had included Edward John Barker, and later his grandson, Edward John Barker Pense (both no relation to me), and then the Davies family – first Rupert, and later his sons, Robertson (yes, the iconic Canadian writer) and Arthur. Rupert Davies had purchased the British Whig in Kingston in 1925 and merged it the following year with the Kingston Daily Standard.

By 1942, Robertson Davies was editing another Davies’ family-owned daily newspaper, the Peterborough Examiner, where he remained as editor until 1955. I also worked at the Peterborough Examiner – twice – the first time from 1985 to 1989 – and again from 1997 to 1999. It was while editing the Peterborough Examiner, that Robertson Davies, considered by townspeople as an eccentric bearded figure in the small-town world of Peterborough in the 1940s, would establish himself as one of Canada’s most important 20th century literary figures with the creation and development of his Samuel Marchbanks character, mining his daily newspaper experiences in the Queen of the Kawarthas for many of the characters and situations, which would appear in his novels and plays.

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Meanwhile, back in the Limestone City, from 1978 to 1990, under Arthur’s son, Michael Davies, The Kingston Whig-Standard won eight National Newspaper Awards, four National Magazine Awards, three Nathan Cohen Awards for dramatic criticism and two Michener Awards for public service journalism.

While I loved being immersed in the Davies’ family newspaper history as a young reporter, spending hours reading dusty old microfilm in the Peterborough Examiner “morgue” anytime I find myself in danger of waxing too nostalgically, I recall the date of Dec. 3, 1995. That was the day after Robertson Davies died at the age of 82. It was a Sunday night and I was ending my weekend reporting shift at the Whig.

I had written what I thought was a pretty fine obituary piece on Canadian fiction writer and legend Robertson Davies for the next morning’s front page but I still had to call Arthur Llewellyn Davies, who had been publisher of The Kingston Whig-Standard until 1969, and at the age of 92, was 10 years older than his more famous younger literary icon brother, Robertson, and still lived in Kingston.

I wish I could say Arthur Davies gave his old newspaper, The Kingston Whig-Standard, a quote for posterity on the life and times of his more famous younger brother. He did give us a quote. But not one that could be printed. And then he hung up.

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