Reading The Banned

“Interested in banned books reading?”

A friend sent me an e-mail inviting me to an event at a shop called Dear.Mom. The evening was labeled “Unbannable: Revisioning Banned Books,” and was to feature music, art, and readings. I thought about it for about 12 seconds, then replied: “Yes!”

I first met Jennifer Delgadillo when I became an avid consumer of her husband’s product, hard cider. The friendship blossomed when she invited me to participate in a program for young readers and was nourished by our mutual attendance at live jazz sessions sponsored by the cidery. And her stroking of my ego – “I know you are a great reader and also my friend” – motivated my swift response. Jennifer sent me a list of banned books, and a cursory survey of my 12 million books found that I have almost all of them.

Dear.Mom is on the near Eastside, at 2121 E. 10th Street, and when I arrived, the door was locked. I knocked and was granted entrance. I had spoken to Jennifer earlier in the day, and commiserated with her: She had developed bronchitis, and would be unable to attend. She advised me that I would be contacted by Mike Calway-Fagen, who was the co-coordinator of the event. Mike sent me an e-mail with the lineup of readers, and it was he who opened the door for me. I entered the shop, and in the rear, there was a room that had artwork on the walls, and books on shelves. I scanned the books, which were all banned somewhere, and quietly noted that the display had many of the books that I own. When I was 14-year-old page in the closed stacks of the University of Pittsburgh library, I had access to books that were not readily available to the casual visitor. It would be years before I recognized the value of that access, but I read everything, everywhere, anytime. I didn’t understand everything that I read, but I had a hunger for reading, for information about the world outside of my skin. And on Friday, December 1, I was glad to be a part of a group of people who seemed to have that same interest.

I perused the artwork by Aaron Coleman on the walls while Rob Funkhouser worked on his electronic musical instruments, as this “night of performances” was to include Rob’s music. Funkhouser’s digital equipment had some technical difficulties, so he started the evening with a reading of essays from Kurt Vonnegut’s Man Without a Country. I read excerpts from a book written by a graduate of my high school. Jesse Andrews’ Me And Earl And The Dying Girl is centered around a fictionalized version of Pittsburgh’s Schenley High School. Shelby Adams read from Yes! No! by Jessica Ralli and Megan Madison; Joan Marie Wyand finished by reading passages from How The Word Is Passed, by Clint Smith.

Jesse Andrews, the author of the book that I read from, commented in a July 2023 interview on the Florida group that agitated for a ban of the book. The book has been classified as young adult fiction, but the agitated banners, according to Andrews, because of the swearing that the high schoolers did, and a two-page “jokey riff” about a sexual act, deemed it unfit for human eyes. (My words there.) As for Vonnegut’s essays, I heard nothing that would rise to the level of offense. Yes! No! had two words that gave me pause, but not the kind of concern that would have me throwing the books into Boston Harbor.

Reading is fundamental to understanding. Fight the bans.

cjon3acd@att.net