Discussion, Not Destruction
Dear Sir, I Intend to Burn Your Book.
This is a powerful sentence indeed. Book burning is a destructive act of utmost contempt, and has historically been carried out by those in power. That is why this case is such a curious one. Roy Groenberg, chairman of Foundation Honour and Restore Victims of Slavery in Suriname, took umbrage with the title of Lawrence Hill’s novel and declared his intent to set it aflame, not from a place of power, but from the perspective of a minority fighting for respect and fair representation.
Groenberg’s anger over the title, “The Book of Negroes”, is justified. The word “Negro” carries a very long and painful history in its two syllables. The title seems to be an attack, an ignorant insult. Yet this was not Hill’s intent. “The Book of Negroes” is named for a historical document that records the names of African Americans who fled to Canada after the American Revolution. That is all.
But words have meaning.
They are not just a random collection of letters that convey a single concrete concept. As clichéd as it is, words hurt. Especially if they carry with them a history of degradation and cruelty.
This seems to be why Hill has no simple answer to Groenberg’s threat. He instead responds with an articulate thirty page explanation of his feelings towards discrimination, his novel, and book-burning. Though Hill agrees that Groenberg has every right to be angered by the use of the word “Negro” in his title, he is adamant that censorship is not the answer, and that discussion and healthy argument is.
On the one hand, Hill strongly empathises with Groenberg’s anger over damaging portrayal of Black people, citing relevant examples of grossly offensive representations. One of his strongest examples of this is that of Holland’s own Zwarte Piet (or Black Peter). The subservient companion of Saint Nicholas, Piet is often played by a white man in blackface (which, alone, is already vastly distasteful) and is dressed in the page-like uniform of a slave, acting like a bumbling idiot. He has also historically been the evil counterpart to Saint Nicholas, the one to deal out punishments while Nick doles out rewards. As one might imagine, this is problematic representation at its finest. Using this example, Hill shows that he understands why Groenberg, whose country commits injustices such as these to little uproar, is angered by the usage of the word “Negro” in his title. By showing that he is informed on the context behind Groenberg’s threat, Hill demonstrates that he is arguing from a place of empathy, not one of privileged ignorance. He too, agrees that history has never been kind to Black people, and therefore Groenberg’s anger is justified.
It is important to note, however, that Groenberg has not read the novel, and is basing his judgement solely upon a single word in its title, and so, though author and activist alike agree on the issue of hurtful representation, Hill argues that book burning is, and has throughout the worst of history, been an act of oppression. He explains the typical causes and effects of censorship, emphasizing that the effects are rarely positive ones. Firstly, censorship is based on the false assumption that one has the right to decide what others may read. It is used to filter out content that one deems harmful, which may seem innocuous enough as it parades itself around disguised as protection, but when Hill brings up historic examples of reasons why books were burned: eyes are opened and opinions are swayed. The Talmud was burned because its contents were deemed blasphemous, the Nazis threw countless books to the flames simply because they were written by Jews. Then Hill moves on to more contemporary instances of censorship: a preacher burning a copy of the Qu’ran, books being pulled from school shelves due to obscenity, vulgarity, and the naive wish to protect the children from these evils. The causes of censorship are always hate, or ignorance, or a belief of moral superiority. And the effects are rarely any happier. As Hill says: “The act seems to say: “You will not be tolerated. Your ideas will not be discussed. We must protect society from your toxic mind, and so we are lighting this bonfire.””. The effect is not one that promotes understanding, or tolerance, but simply an absolute refusal to acknowledge another’s point of view. This is why Hill does not believe it a solution to the problem of offensive literature. Discussion, not destruction is what is needed.
Despite the serious nature of Hill’s topic, he does not refrain from sprinkling his writing with the style expected from a writer of his caliber. When he discusses trying to use the word “Negro” on the streets of Brooklyn, he advises to ensure that you are traveling with good health insurance. He uses this hyperbole to both to add a touch of humour and also to accentuate the point that the word carries serious weight in American culture - stemming from years of being slung as an insult. Hill also incorporates a rhetorical question into his dissertation when he asks: “Who wants to be associated with a writer who will cause trouble, or stir controversy, or attract vigorous public criticism?” With this question, he drives home the point that the effects of book burning stretch far beyond the destruction of a single book. Once an author has a target on them for offensive content, they can lose everything.
This is Hill’s opinion, his defense of a novel that he made for the same reasons that Groenberg justifies burning it. And while he provides a compelling argument in a beautifully written way, I’m sure you are all wondering what I, an uninvolved third party, have to say about the matter. If so, simply sit at your electronic device and twiddle your thumbs until I upload my next post.
- A.M. Ham
