Banned

My friend slipped the book to me with the cover down, glancing furtively down the hall of our stake center.

“We can’t read it in book club,” she said, a slight flush creeping up her freckled neck. “There are some things in it … I hope you won’t be offended, but it is sooo good. I think it is one of the best books I’ve ever read.”

“I am very open-minded and hard to offend,” I assured her, thinking to myself that she didn’t know the half of it.

I slipped her dog-eared copy of the The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffinger into my diaper bag and promised to pass it along to another friend and member of our book club who would be participating in this clandestine extra-curricular reading. When I opened the book later that night, I found that my friend had helpfully censored the book, covering all the fucks and shits and some of the more explicit sex scenes with white-out. Somewhat amused and slightly annoyed I pressed on, holding the text up to the light so I could make out the grey imprint of the words behind my friend’s good intentions.

Of course, she was right about the book club. Some conservative religious communities build bonfires or try to get books banned from public libraries, Mormons censor themselves.  The book club  — a group of 10 women from the stake — had decided to meet outside the auspices of Relief Society Enrichment clubs precisely so we wouldn’t have to worry about content. But, it didn’t matter; we edited ourselves as though we were submitting our list to the  Quorum of the Twelve  for approval. It wasn’t just that we avoided books with “adult” content — no swearing, little sex, little violence — we also avoided books that featured any kind of real-life unpleasantness or ambiguity. It left us with a small, meagre list — a few classics, Young Adult novels and a lot of didactic, poorly written Deseret-published books. One time we read Dracula a somewhat controversial, but meant to be festive, Halloween pick and half of the women sat with their lips pursed, primly stating that they couldn’t get into it and hadn’t wanted to  finish it.   The women in this book club always talked about reading in terms of mindless or heartwarming entertainment. One woman repeatedly said that she only wanted books to make her feel good.

Reading, especially fiction, has long been a thorny issue for religious people. The Puritans railed against the evils of novel reading; they were afraid, not just of the questionable morals and actions of characters, but also concerned that young people, particularly feeble-minded young ladies, would be absorbing these stories that weren’t literally true — unlike the ones in the Bible — and would be damaged by them. In one of the earliest American novels, The Coquette, which was published in 1797, character Mrs. Sumner explains, “Are there not real woes (if not in our own families, at least among our own friends and neighbours) sufficient to exercise our sympathy and pity, without introducing fictitious ones into our very diversions? How can that be a diversion which racks the soul with grief, even though that grief be imaginary?” Thinking and feeling too much because of a book was a dangerous prospect, better to put novels into their proper place — as mere diversions.

(And, in case you were wondering, The Coquette illuminates just how slippery the flirting-with-boys-slope is for a teenage girl  — it is not harmless and it will very likely lead to unwed pregnancy and broken-hearted death.)

That was my last Relief Society book club. For the last four years, I’ve done all my group reading with gentiles, but an article examining Mormon movie censorship, which was published last week on Killing the Buddha, made me think about this incident and what it says about Mormon culture. Author Hillary White, herself a former Mormon who grew up in Utah, writes:

“Keeping yourself from R-rated material is one thing. What I find unsettling are the great lengths Mormons will go to do so. In some ways I understand this. In other ways I respect it. Mormons find strength in abstinence. It’s a means of self-control. To non-members they appear to do what is nearly impossible: refraining from alcohol, tobacco, coffee, masturbation, sexual activity before marriage, and so on. Not watching R-rated movies seems like a small sacrifice compared to these things, but I would argue it is the most troubling example of how Mormons separate themselves from “other” culture. That’s what bothers me. It isn’t the editing. It isn’t the films. It’s how this is a symptom of a larger problem: Mormons insulate themselves, either disregarding what they don’t like about the bigger picture-in life, on film-or stubbornly trying to change it to fit their ideals.”

While I largely agree with White, I think her evaluation of Mormons and their motivations may be too simplistic. For one thing, even if Mormons draw more lines than the average person, we all draw lines in the sand and turn away from things that make us uncomfortable or offend our sensibilities. I don’t think twice about watching most R-rated movies, but I won’t be rushing out to see the next installment of the Saw franchise or anything of that ilk. Ditto for romcoms, pornography and Harlequin Romances. Furthermore, we all have double standards. I am offended   and a little mystified by the sexist view of men and women presented by the Charlie Sheen vehicle ‘Two and a Half Men’ (Who watches that show?! How can it still be on?!), but I have to confess to loving some songs and videos with questionable misogynistic lyrics, like Jay-Z’s 99 Problems. (Damn Rick Rubin’s brilliant production!) My point is that we all have holes in our ideals.

However, I think it is more difficult to unpack the motivations of Mormons who censor themselves. I suspect that my friend  wasn’t consciously using her white out to turn away from things that made her uncomfortable. A married woman with two children, I wonder if she was really shocked by the language or sex in the book — especially given that The Time Traveller’s Wife is about a passionate love affair between a married couple that transcends space and time — a subject that might be uniquely poignant for Mormons.  I think my friend was mostly acting in faith and obedience. The real question is not the hypocrisy that her actions implied, but the fear underlying the legalistic approach our leadership takes toward art and entertainment and whether such measures really achieve the  aim of uplifting the Saints.

White says: “When Mormons use technologies like ClearPlay to change a film to fit their standards, they are only seeing what they want to see and what they already know.   You can’t do that in real life. Life is rated R, or worse. It can be unpredictable, violent, miserable, and unfair.   In trying to live “clean in thought and deed” there is a constant battle to keep things in the PG realm.   It’s not only a losing battle, but an act of willful ignorance.”White goes on to argue   that “willful ignorance” can seep into real life, making Mormons ill-equipped to deal with the inevitable ups and downs of life. Again, I don’t think Mormons are the only people to do this, but I do believe this fear is misplaced and art has the power to expand our horizons and strengthen our morality, not weaken it.

Personally,  I’ve never been any good at censoring anything I read or watch. When people at church begin their unavoidable complaining about how terrible the world is and especially the media — sometimes it seems to come up more often than Jesus — I sit on my hands, feeling offended on behalf of my beloved movies and books. My R-rated movie bans (which I’ve given up completely in the last few years) were always brief and inevitably doomed. I never even really tried to edit my reading material. I have no problem with people wanting to be entertained when they read or watch a movie; I understand the pleasure of escaping into a book that will leave no mark — intellectually or otherwise — but escapism is not the main reason I turn to books, music and film.

I turn to art to be illuminated, to explore the world, to vicariously work through the difficulties of life and increase my compassion by experiencing viewpoints that differ from my own. Even when characters behave badly, there is something hugely life affirming about seeing humanity in action and watching people work through grey areas and difficult problems. Identifying with imperfect people — adulterers, liars, users, those who are weak or selfish — helps me work through those  traits in myself and, hopefully, avoid the bad choices  characters make. In truth, my R-rated movie bans never stuck because my consumption of literature and film has always felt deeply moral and, when I’m experiencing a true work of art that conveys human beings in all their complexity, transcendent and closer to God.


Photo by DML East Branch on Flickr, licensed under the Creative Commons