Is this book in the hand of the young child a weapon or a key? Forgive the misappropriation of a title by Dany Laferrière, but the question is nagging these days, with the banning of around thirty children’s books by Elise Gravel by the Jewish Public Library of Montreal and the destruction by flames of All naked! The caring dictionary of sexuality by Myriam Daguzan Bernier and Cécile Gariépy at the American neighbor, one year after the saga surrounding The boy with upside down feet by the late François Blais.
In the age of helicopter parents, the triumph of supervised play, teachers on probation and the multiplication of trauma warnings, have we come to prefer censorship to prescription and mediation?
We are sorry about the dematerialization which is swallowing up our young people with its seductive screens permanently open. Studies on the dangers of rampant connection are adding up at a maddening rate. The antidotes are known: whether for example by escaping into the open air or immersing yourself in a book, it is a matter of (re)taming the long term, that which leaves space for ideas and daydreams to germinate. . Is it because we frequent them less than before that we are more likely to distrust books on these essential subjects?
One thing is certain: the ease with which these lifelines can become parcel bombs speaks volumes about our times. Removing A potato on a bike, Adopt a glurp! Or The great Antonio of its shelves to hide them from view, the Jewish Public Library of Montreal made a radical gesture. It is not the multi-awarded, funny and offbeat work of Elise Gravel that is targeted, but her commitment to the Palestinian cause on social networks where her small audience… paradoxically does not have the right to be featured.
Censorship, mind you, the author knows. In 2018, the all-naked of his Stinky tribe had startled American publishers: “ too French “. His book Pink, blue and you!on gender identities, considered too doctrinaire by many, was banned in American public schools until the 3e year. This time, it’s persona of a writer-citizen-activist who is being attacked. On his social networks, his indignation is immense and some of his publications have rightly shocked. The author-illustrator apologized, corrected what needed to be corrected while refusing to contain her strong indignation at the fate reserved for children prisoners of a ferocious war.
In truth, what we follow on her accounts is the evolving thought of a human on edge, sometimes harsh, but not anti-Semitic for all that, no offense to her noisy detractors who also have their own , including in the Jewish community. In a sense, his dilemma and his doubts are reminiscent of ours since October 7. Stunned, hesitant, our collective thought still bears the shock of the brutality of the chilling terrorist attack and the merciless ferocity of the armed offensive which has continued without compromise ever since.
Our children and teenagers do not grow up in bubbles: the fury of the world is in their screens, in their schoolyard conflicts, in street corner conversations and, yes, in their books too, some of which are jewelry. Think of the extraordinary Azadah by Jacques Goldstyn or the essentials Going from afar by Caroline Dawson. Have we forgotten, children’s literature is the work of publishers who know their audiences deeply, who know where to go and when to stop, taking care to indicate the recommended ages.
The books are then chosen by adults (parents, teachers, educators, librarians, booksellers) who sometimes play the role of prescriber, sometimes that of guide. A few years ago, we were alarmed by the effect of the TV series 13 Reasons Why (and the novel from which it is taken) about adolescents. One of the most useful pieces of advice given by the experts was not to prohibit the broadcast of this story embroidered around the suicide of a high school student, but to offer accompanied listening (or reading).
The unfortunate thing is that in 2024, censoring an angry book (or an angry author) is easier than making this effort. “The fold of censorship is taken”, as Patrick Moreau wrote earlier in The duty. However, there is nothing good in anathema: it only serves to fuel fear and refusal of others and their thoughts. It is not the unanimous motion of our politicians condemning the treatment given to our youth authors last week that will be enough to change the situation.
Undoing the fold and resuming the dialogue should still be possible. Otherwise, how could we have the presumption to urge Israelis and Palestinians to find the path to dialogue if we are not even capable of arbitrating our differences in the comfort of our peaceful Quebec?
Let’s find our compass: it’s minds that need to be ignited together, not books.