Books With Baggage

About a year ago, I wrote a blog post about representation of marginalized identities in fiction that made some readers uncomfortable. In the example I shared, I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter, many readers found the character portrayals to be accurate and enlightening, while others found them to be stereotypical and negative representations. This brought up a question: what makes fair or accurate representation, and what should readers do when representation in a book seems offensive or uncomfortable? The answer wasn’t a straightforward one and involved encouraging readers to analyze their discomfort and seek out others’ perspectives, and today I’m going to be revisiting this idea in relation to another controversial topic: offensive or controversial creators.  

In I am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter, the discomfort or disagreements around potentially offensive representation happened within the book itself, but book controversies don’t stop there. In recent years, discussions in articles, on social media, and amongst authors and publishers about what we do when authors are deemed problematic have become more frequent. With the rise in social media especially, many readers can develop parasocial relationships with authors and feel very strongly, not just about the books but the authors themselves, making it even harder when that author is accused of wrongdoing. This wrongdoing sometimes comes in the form of authors who openly hold racist, transphobic, or otherwise prejudiced views, like that of present-day writer J.K. Rowling or cosmic horror author H.P. Lovecraft. It also sometimes comes in the form of creators that are accused of harmful behavior like sexual assault or similar, such as recent allegations against the largely beloved author Neil Gaiman. It can even happen with organizations that support authors, rather than authors themselves, like with recent calls to boycott NaNoWriMo over policies related to AI and protecting authors’ creative works. Each of these examples have nuance related to accusations or behaviors of the author or organization, but they all stem from problematic behaviors related to the creator themselves, rather than the work they are creating.  

All of which leads us to the question of how we as readers handle books that aren’t offensive or problematic themselves but have creators that are. Does a great book by a horrible author deserve recognition? Does the positive impact on the many readers outweigh the negative impacts the author may have had on a few people? Does it matter if that author is still profiting from the work, or if they are long dead?  

The answers to these questions might be different for each person reading this blog, and for each reader of these controversial authors’ works. Some may find that they are happy to separate the art from the artist, while others may find their knowledge of the author’s behaviors taints any joy that they might have gotten from engaging with their works. Some may have a more middle-of-the road approach and still read the books but do so in a way that doesn’t put more money into the author’s pockets, such as borrowing a copy from the library or picking it up at a thrift store where profits won’t return to the publisher and author. And some readers may do a mix of all these approaches, depending on what book it is, what controversial thing the author has done, and how personally meaningful the book is to the reader.  

For those grappling with how to navigate reading titles by authors that make them uncomfortable, one way to approach it is considering ongoing harm, as well as personal value. For example, is keeping a beloved childhood copy of Mists of Avalon that was purchased before Marion Zimmer Bradley was accused of sexually abusing children causing ongoing harm? There’s no money going towards her estate since it was already purchased, and if it was a personally meaningful book, it may be the right choice to keep it. Alternatively, for someone that is a victim of sexual abuse, even having this book around may be too painful of a reminder and could cause ongoing personal harm. The only person that can make this decision is the reader themselves.  

Another approach besides looking at ongoing harm and personal value is considering if there is a way to engage with the positive content or themes in a book without supporting that author at all. This sometimes means things like keeping an old copy or checking out the item from the library, but it can also mean engaging with works inspired by these authors, but from new and less problematic creators. Maybe a reader has determined they won’t read any H.P. Lovecraft works, but gladly dive into books inspired by Lovecraft, like that of Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero. Maybe a reader never buys another book or memorabilia related to Harry Potter, but supports works like the Simon Snow series by Rainbow Rowell. With organizations like NaNoWriMo, maybe an aspiring author utilizes another organization or simply a local writer’s group to have the same gamified or competition-based motivators, without supporting an organization making decisions the author doesn’t abide by. Supporting the works that were inspired by problematic creators but not giving money or direct recognition to them can be an opportunity to enjoy their creative legacy that works for many people.  

Whatever route readers choose, whether it’s separating the art from the artist or boycotting an author entirely, the library is here to support each patron’s reading goals and interests. Reading should be about joy and exploration, and we want to encourage readers in whatever genres, authors, and books help them achieve this. A common phrase that librarians stand by is that a good library has something in it to offend everyone, but the inverse is also true: a good library has something in it to support everyone.