Open letter to Puffin Publishing House


Dear Sir/Madam

It has come to my attention that in your new print run of Roald Dahl books you have deemed it appropriate to make excessive edits in line with what you presumably see as a positive societal direction towards inclusivity.

Regardless of the rightness or wrongness of this movement, it seems to me that you have forgotten that you are the distributors of literature, not the creators; a company, not a political, philosophical, educational or religious establishment. Yet here you are, acting as the final arbiters in one of the most important cultural debates of our time.

By all means, refresh your covers and layouts, but your assertion that it is not unusual to ‘review the language’ is insidiously vague, reading a little like a literary get-out-of-jail-free card for whatever slavery to the system you engage in. And yes, I use the word slave in full awareness that for many it is an emotional catalyst. Well, good! What respect I must have for these others, to imagine that they can take responsibility for their own feelings. I believe that this micro-management of language is unbearably naïve; to remove the word ‘slave’ from the lexicon does not abolish slavery. To omit reference to fatness does not make fat people feel any better. Where do you think this path leads? I note that you still have a section for children’s books – how insensitive to the infertile!

Your reasoning (and I use the term loosely) is that the books can now be ‘enjoyed by all’. Well, I can disprove that theory immediately by stating that you have categorically crapped upon my enjoyment. The particularly juicy, now amended phrase “Aunt Sponge was terrifically fat, and tremendously flabby at that”, has always been a favourite of mine, regardless of whatever body issues I’m grappling with – and do you know why? Because my issues are mine alone. I am responsible, not Dahl, and certainly not a supposedly well-meaning yet insufferably meddlesome publisher.

You may argue that with all that is happening in the world, getting so irate about this affair may be extravagant, but I see your actions as part of a much larger problem inherent in ‘woke’ culture (truly an oxymoron, as the main activity of wokeness seems to be deletion and revision of others’ work rather than creation of new); it is the idealization of comfort, the need to wrap humanity’s feelings in cotton wool – perhaps to further our resemblance to the sheep we are swiftly becoming.

If the pen really is mighty, then what folly to hand such unwarranted power to these 21st century soldiers in the guise of ‘sensitivity writers’ (a job description that gives me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies). For they are not the people who will elevate our spirits and deepen our experience, nor articulate the most subtle, intricate parts of human existence, including the monstrous and mischievous – something in which our beloved old Roald excelled. Do not imagine we are fooled by your bland assertion of working for the good of all – you are simply censoring, and as Bradbury stated, there is more than one way to burn a book.

Yours dispiritedly,

Dr Josephine Davies

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Delighted Mind

Image
  I woke myself up the other night laughing at something in a dream. I mean really laughing, stomach muscle involvement laughing. It’s stayed with me all week – not the dream, that fled immediately, leaving only the vaguest vestige of an innocuous looking pigeon – but the feeling of delight in my own mind. That I can, in my most unguarded moments, be utterly unburdened and able to enjoy the simplicity of the mind at play. It strikes me that this is to be treasured as one treasures those moments of joy or hilarity with a friend, for the feeling of fondness toward myself quickly dissipated along with the dream, becoming replaced by the old familiar self-critique. Elizabeth Gilbert speaks of practising ‘stewardship’ towards oneself, an idea so enormous and beautiful that I dropped a saucepan in my excitement upon first encountering it, but have since not known what to do with, holding it in my outstretched palm like a sweet yet timid little bird that is liable to expire at any mome...
Read more

Polarities 1: Intuition & Intellect

Image
  I’ve been contemplating this little nugget from Nietzsche: “Ultimately, no one can extract from things, books included, more than he already knows. What one has no access to through experience one has no ear for.” I have always based enormous value on my intellect. As a child in a chaotic home, my ability to reason, analyse, and structure my mind was of utmost importance. Fortunately, this way of being is one that our culture celebrates and rewards, in fact demands . Suffice to say, good grades abounded, certificates were granted, academic success was guaranteed. I now place enormous value on my intuition. As an adult in a chaotic world, my ability to imagine, create, and let go of mental structures is of utmost importance. Unfortunately, this way of being is one that our culture denigrates and dismisses, in fact fears.   Suffice to say, arguments abound, points are rejected, social success is not guaranteed. When I say I know something intuitively, this is often argu...
Read more

Polarities 3: Death & Taxes

Image
  I know these are usually yoked together as the only two things in life of which we can be certain, but I think they also offer an interesting polarity. I like doing my tax (sorry to those of you on a deadline, but if that’s you, then this is some excellent procrastination). In the focused specifics of a tax return I enjoy, temporarily , the absence of critical thinking, artistic endeavour, metaphorical understanding, and general striving towards Eudaimonia . I like seeing all the little numbers lining up and coming to the expected total. I savour the feeling of being both participant, in the placing of these numbers, and witness to their universal quality. I need only avoid error, and they will reveal themselves in their perfect simplicity. So neat. So pleasing. Of course, I wouldn’t want to do my tax every day. Neatness is the winsome rural scene that makes one smile when passing through but tarry too long and the initial charm leads quickly to existential crisis. And so ind...
Read more