Tag Archives: Maurice Sendak

In honor of Banned Books Week

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banned-books-week

It’s that great time of the year when the American Library Association (ALA) celebrates the right to read without censorship. As an author and a reader of gay literature, I have a big stake in that. Books about LGBTs are particularly vulnerable to challenges by misguided factions of the public, particularly books for children and young adults.

I’ve never had any of my books challenged to my knowledge, though maybe that’s because my books could use a boost of discoverability (which is why you should ask your library to purchase eight or fifty of my titles for their collection). But if The Seventh Pleiade or Banished Sons of Poseidon was challenged because of homosexual content, they would be in prestigious company. Some of the most frequently challenged books for “homosexuality” include Stephen Chbosky’s Perks of Being a Wallflower and  Alice Walker’s The Color Purple.

ALA’s list of the most frequently challenged books includes a lot of impressive titles, many of which have been staples in english literature classes from grade school to college. To join with public libraries in raising awareness, I thought I’d share some of my favorite “banned books.”

the-handmaids-tale

 

Banned for: sexual content and being offensive to Christians

I read Atwood’s feminist, dystopian sci fi novel during my cynical, anti-establishment college years, which, come to think of it, has stretched into my 40s. I loved that the story is in the high concept, dystopian vein of some of my other favorite futuristic books (Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World and George Orwell’s 1984, both of which have also encountered banning attempts) and gives that theme an underrepresented female perspective, which was certainly unusual in the 1980s.

 

catcher-in-the-rye-2Banned for:  excess vulgar language, sexual scenes, things concerning moral issues, excessive violence and anything dealing with the occult.

Scratch me hard enough, and, probably like many guys of my generation, I’d say J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye is my favorite book of all time. I think it’s the nostalgia. While the books was written for an earlier generation coming of age in the 1960s, Holden Caulfied spoke so well to sixteen-year-old me, disillusioned, scared, and wondering where the hell my place in the world was.

 

where_the_wild_things_are_book_cover

Banned for: witchcraft and supernatural elements

I always felt there was a little something subversive about Maurice Sendak’s children’s books, which was part of their appeal. I think that comes from Sendak’s point-of-view. Beneath the dreamlike wonder of his stories, there’s a minor melody of sadness and alienation, and I feel that speaks to a lot of kids.

 

running-with-scissors

 

Banned for: explicit homosexual and heterosexual situations, profanity, underage drinking and smoking, extreme moral shortcomings, child molesters, graphic pedophile situations and total lack of negative consequences

Often compared to David Sedaris (whose books have also been challenged for high school classroom reading), Augusten Burroughs writes quirky memoirs that are a little bit edgier and I’d say more affecting (I love Sedaris as well). Both the book and the movie had me in tears.

 

naked-lunch

Banned for: drug use, sexually explicit acts, and obscene language

Given that parental warning, what teenager would not want to read William Burroughs’ graphic, counterculture book? Naked Lunch got passed around by my high school friends and blew open my world. Not that I’m recommending the book for early grade readers, but Burroughs’ psychodelic, polymorphously perverse rant against conformity was a wonderful affirmation of queerness that helped me better understand the world.

Telling Them Anything You Want: Maurice Sendak

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I recently and randomly caught the HBO documentary: “Tell Them Anything You Want: A Portrait of Maurice Sendak.” Sendak was my favorite author as a child. There’s a dreamlike and—at times—a nightmarish quality to his books, and it wasn’t until I saw the movie adaptation of “Where the Wild Things Are” that I truly understood the profoundness of his work.

Many children’s book authors succeed in channeling the wonder and imagination of childhood. Sendak does that and goes beyond, tapping into the childhood emotional experience—those dark moments of feeling lost and vulnerable. But the stories are surrounded by a sense of permission to have those feelings. The endings are not always happy in a traditional way, but the heroes stand strong amidst their hardships even if they cry during the journey.

The Sendak documentary does much to illuminate his sensibility. It came out last year before the Wild Things release and was filmed by directors Spike Jonze and Lance Bangs in 2003 when Sendak was 75. The documentary is a continuous conversation between Sendak and the directors at the author’s Connecticut home. Sendak has a caustic wit, tending to be self-deprecating in spite of his idol status.

What stood out was the permanence of his childhood imprints—the Lindbergh baby kidnapping and the accidental death of one of his playmates in Brooklyn. He admits to having morbid obsessions, an existential gloom, and you get the impression that he wishes he had a chance to live his childhood over again. And that his stories and illustrations are a method of re-experiencing, repairing what was lost to him.

My sixth grade teacher gave us the assignment to write a letter to our favorite author. I chose Sendak while over half the class chose Charles Schultz, even though the teacher warned us that Schultz never responds to fan mail. I remember my excitement when I got the response. It was just a postcard, hand-typed, thanking me for my letter and telling me about his three dogs all named after ancient Greek heroes. I remember Agamemnon and Io but I can’t recall the third. The postcard was tacked up on the bulletin board of my bedroom until I went away to college.

In the documentary, Sendak talks about how much he loves his dog (a new dog Herman). He also talks lovingly about his best friend Lynn and his longtime partner Eugene (who died in 2008). He seems a solitary figure, but this has become his family.

I think what resonated the most was Sendak’s emotional honesty. He has regrets, greedy ambitions, and he remains frightened by his gayness. That honesty is poured into his work. The documentary title “Tell Them Anything You Want” comes from his response to a question about children’s authors’ responsibility to their audience.   His longer answer is kids can handle tough subjects when they’re handled with honesty and kindness.