A Half-Century of American Book Banning

"Anna Holmes has never forgotten reading Judy Blume's Forever as a tween. Why? Because the book, published 50 years ago this month, happily acknowledged that a teenage girl might want to have sex, and that she might even enjoy it, as Holmes wrote last week. This made the novel a magnet for adult disapproval and censorship, and "obtaining, hiding, and reading it-and then sharing it with others-was a rite of passage," she writes."

"Several decades later, the fervor over Forever might feel quaint to some: "Now teen girls can get a crash course on sex with a few keystrokes," Holmes notes. But book banning is, unfortunately, all the rage-fittingly, Banned Books Week starts on Monday. And even though we live in what Holmes called a "digital, sex-soaked era," as she noted, Blume's half-century-old novel remains a target; the Utah State Board of Education banned it for containing "pornographic" or "indecent" content only last year."

"In the 2020s, social media is a major driver of these altercations. Parents, activists, and politicians can circulate a book's most objectionable passages in posts made for virality. When a book attracts wide attention, challenges can stack up quickly. Consider Maia Kobabe's memoir, Gender Queer, released in 2019 by a small, independent publisher, which in just two years became America's most-banned book."

Forever acknowledged that a teenage girl might want to have sex and might even enjoy it. That frank depiction made the novel a magnet for adult disapproval and censorship, and obtaining, hiding, and reading it—and then sharing it with others—became a rite of passage for some readers. In recent years, book banning has expanded beyond sexual content to include works that address racism, sexism, or queerness. Blume's other novels, such as Deenie and Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret, which mention masturbation and menstruation, have also faced controversy. Social media now accelerates challenges by circulating objectionable passages for virality, enabling rapid stacks of challenges; Maia Kobabe's memoir Gender Queer became America's most-banned book within two years of release.

Read at The Atlantic