the others. ‘Yes fact, gentlemen. The harsh fact is that censorship is not a dramatic issue, because the average man, even though he will grumble about the dangers of provocative smut, finds it difficult to relate a book to all the crimes in the streets. A book is inanimate. To begin with, not enough people know books or read them. And when they do, it is difficult for them to realize that printed pages can in any way threaten their security or their personal lives. In fact, some of them may resent us for interfering with their right to read what they wish or to be titillated by what they read. By interfering in this way, we’ve satisfied only a handful of bluenoses and Grundys who couldn’t swing an election one way or another. Look, I sincerely believe some of the. salacious stuff found today in books passing as literature is evil and corruptive, and my office fries to ciamp down on the worst of it. But what I believe about this has nothing to do with the possibility of turning censorship censoring a book, into a major problem of passionate concern to the, general public. Moreover, initiating this kind of indictment is hardly image-building. What does it do at best ? It pits the District Attorney of a great city against some title two-bit bookseller and against some obscure printed words that not one person in a thousand will ever read or maybe even hear about. Gentlemen, that’s a wild mismatch, and it makes me look like a bully. Fortunately not many people out there are going to know about it, because it was too dull an issue to get space. I say we’ve got a dead issue, and I suggest we bury it as fast as possible. In fact, I half promised this bookseller’s counsel I’d let the case expire quickly and quietly. Gentlemen, believe me, you’re not going to excite millions of voters with the proposition that a book can do them grave harm.’
‘But a book can do grave harm.’ It was Harvey Underwood speaking from the far end of the sofa. Duncan looked at him sharply, and the other two gave him their attention. Underwood pawed at one bushy eyebrow. ‘I was thinking,’ he went on. ‘As you were speaking, Elmo, I was thinking of books that have been earthquakes, have moved masses of men and whole civilizations to do evil, to create change, to become good. How many millions of human beings died because of a book called Mein Kampf, by Adolf Hitler? How many people died or were enslaved because of
a book called Das Kapital, by Karl Marx? How much violence was instigated, for better or for worse, by a pamphlet or book called Common Sense, by Thomas Paine; by an essay in a book called Civil Disobedience, by Henry Thoreau; by a book called Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe?’ He paused. ‘Elmo, don’t underestimate the incendiary power of a book.’
Duncan frowned, knuckles tightening on the back of the chair. ‘I won’t argue with you about those books, about some books. However, you’ve left out one factor. Those books you mentioned - they were effective in creating or helping create violence, revolutions, wars, protest, because each was linked directly to an immediate need among masses of people. Those books fulfilled or agitated or inflamed because they were aimed at live issues. Hitler’s book told the Germans why they were in trouble and showed them how to get out of it. Marx’s book gave a hungry Russia, ripe for revolution, a recipe for eating again. Thoreau’s writings gave Gandhi a new weapon stronger than British arms, and it freed his country, and this same Thoreau essay gave American youth the same weapon to use in resisting the military clique in the United States. Certainly a book that is explosive can be used as a piece of dynamite. But what are we working with? What have we got? An obscene sex novel written by an author long dead. A nation filled with people frightened for their lives because of lawlessness and violence. Can we say to those people - We’re going to convict this
‘But a book can do grave harm.’ It was Harvey Underwood speaking from the far end of the sofa. Duncan looked at him sharply, and the other two gave him their attention. Underwood pawed at one bushy eyebrow. ‘I was thinking,’ he went on. ‘As you were speaking, Elmo, I was thinking of books that have been earthquakes, have moved masses of men and whole civilizations to do evil, to create change, to become good. How many millions of human beings died because of a book called Mein Kampf, by Adolf Hitler? How many people died or were enslaved because of
a book called Das Kapital, by Karl Marx? How much violence was instigated, for better or for worse, by a pamphlet or book called Common Sense, by Thomas Paine; by an essay in a book called Civil Disobedience, by Henry Thoreau; by a book called Uncle Tom’s Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe?’ He paused. ‘Elmo, don’t underestimate the incendiary power of a book.’
Duncan frowned, knuckles tightening on the back of the chair. ‘I won’t argue with you about those books, about some books. However, you’ve left out one factor. Those books you mentioned - they were effective in creating or helping create violence, revolutions, wars, protest, because each was linked directly to an immediate need among masses of people. Those books fulfilled or agitated or inflamed because they were aimed at live issues. Hitler’s book told the Germans why they were in trouble and showed them how to get out of it. Marx’s book gave a hungry Russia, ripe for revolution, a recipe for eating again. Thoreau’s writings gave Gandhi a new weapon stronger than British arms, and it freed his country, and this same Thoreau essay gave American youth the same weapon to use in resisting the military clique in the United States. Certainly a book that is explosive can be used as a piece of dynamite. But what are we working with? What have we got? An obscene sex novel written by an author long dead. A nation filled with people frightened for their lives because of lawlessness and violence. Can we say to those people - We’re going to convict this
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