My colleague Clint Margrave (author of THE EARLY DEATH OF MEN and SALUTE THE WRECKAGE) has just published an important new article entitled "Poetic Injustice and Performative Outrage" in Quillette. I highly recommend reading the entire piece. What follows is a choice excerpt....
Slavoj
Žižek argues that the totalitarian elements of modern political
correctness are much more difficult to resist than the unambiguous
totalitarianism of the past. Instead of simply dictating what a person
can and can’t do or say, political correctness uses emotional coercion
to leverage feelings of guilt and shame. We are now supposed to care
more about the collective “feelings” of the community than the
individual artist or artwork. A work no longer speaks for itself, but
for a community,
and an artist’s whole public persona—how virtuous they are, how they
behaved on a Saturday night, their correct (or incorrect) political
beliefs or opinions, and so on—can all either hurt or help that
community. This seems like a lot to ask of a writer just to remain
published in a magazine that probably didn’t even pay them.
I asked Joanna Valente, publisher of Yes, Poetry magazine,
if it should be a publisher’s business what a writer does outside of
their interaction with that publisher. “I wouldn’t say it’s a
publisher’s ‘business’ to know—and publishers aren’t private
investigators and do have lives of their own (and often, day jobs, since
most editors don’t edit full-time). However, I do think if someone’s
behavior becomes a public concern, and it does violate ethical, safety,
moral, and/or legal matters, then it should be of concern.”
No doubt Valente and the editors at cahoodaloodaling have
good intentions. But these good intentions seem to be very
shortsighted. Anyone who has ever silenced someone has done so under the
guise of “public concern.” And, while libel is a legitimate concern for
a publisher and a condition (along with personal attacks and by request
of the author) under which even [Timothy] Green [editor of Rattle] says he would “de-publish” a
poem, none of these considerations were at issue in the cases of Rachel
Custer or Anders Carlson-Wee. Call it performance or moral panic, but a
small but powerful and vocal minority of community members is seizing
control of the message—any breach of orthodoxy marks you an apostate or a
blasphemer, and then it’s off to the poetry gulags.
They
even have their own informers—members of the community who dedicate
themselves to rooting out transgressive views and behavior so they can
report it to the publisher [emphasis added--RG]. “I was so excited to be published in The Journal,”
says Custer, “which puts out such lovely work, and then I was just
heartbroken to have that work removed.” Ohio State University’s esteemed
literary magazine took down her poem after a few members of the poetry
community emailed the magazine alleging Custer was a “racist, an
Islamophobe,” and—perhaps the strangest allegation of all—that she,
“ridiculed dead children.” “Just all kinds of insane allegations,” says
Custer. “The student editor removed my work without ever talking to me
about the allegations, and never even told me the work was taken down. I
think I found out when I was updating my personal website.” The editor
told her the problem wasn’t her poem or its contents, but her personal
opinions as expressed by social media.
“If
someone reaches out to a publisher,” says Valente, “I think the
publisher, for instance, should take what that person says seriously and
act in a way they see fit. No one can tell a publisher what to do, but I
do think at the very least acknowledging what a person says is
important, and ultimately hopefully they make a decision that ensures
the integrity of their magazine and the safety of their audience.”
Wanting
to protect one’s staff from, for instance, personal harassment is
obviously understandable. But the “safety of their audience”? Whoever
said art was safe? The idea of safety is prevalent throughout the poetry
community right now—there is even a hashtag called #saferlit. But
safety from what, exactly? From a poem that might offend someone’s
sensibilities? From an idea someone else might not agree with? To
describe protection from ideas, art, or words as “safety” is a sinister
misuse of language, and it has always been the righteous excuse offered
in justification of censorship. “If a work is harming others, and
taking away someone’s humanity, then I think it’s ethical to remove the
work, because it’s not helping anyone, and just promoting dangerous
thought that has led many countries to violent wars and aggressions,”
says Valente.
This kind of reasoning may sound like a kinder and more empathetic kind
of censorship, but protecting our own best interests has always been the
benevolent justification for the banning or burning of books. And in
today’s feverish and intolerant cultural climate, a “dangerous thought”
may simply be a “thought” with which the self-appointed censor
disagrees. Too much protection makes a population naïve. Pushing
boundaries is practically a condition for creating art, and artists have
either been rewarded or punished for pushing the limits of
acceptability and challenging the voices of cultural or political
authority, depending on the political temperature of the time. And that
is why artistic censorship is always high on the list of priorities of
totalitarian regimes.
To read Margrave's article in its entirety, click HERE.
