Religious Right Censors’ Worst Nightmare: Why We’ll Miss Judith Krug
Judith Krug raised awareness of book censorship in America and devised strategies to combat it.
It’s pretty easy these days to walk into mostly any public library in the country and check out J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye or John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. You can do that in a large part thanks to a woman named Judith Krug.
Judith, who ran the American Library Association’s Office for Intellectual Freedom since 1967, was a life-long censorship foe who conceived the now internationally famous “Banned Books Week.” She raised awareness of book censorship in America and devised strategies to combat it.
Judith died Saturday at age 69 after a battle with stomach cancer. We are all a little poorer for that.
Not surprisingly. Judith’s work brought her into conflict with the Religious Right. In 1995, Religious Right activists in Virginia tried to start a new group targeting public libraries. They called it “Family Friendly Libraries.” The organization, which was in cahoots with Focus on the Family, proposed taking all of the books fundamentalist Christians didn’t like – tomes dealing with human sexuality, “the occult,” “non-traditional” families and so on – and isolating them in a special room or getting rid of them entirely.
Judith would have none of that. I interviewed her for a story about the Religious Right attack on libraries, and her views were clear: Censorship was not the answer. Rather, she said, parents should get more involved with their children and make sure the library materials they choose are appropriate.
It was – dare I say it? – a rather conservative solution.
A few years ago, when Religious Right activists nationwide went after J.K. Rowling’s popular “Harry Potter” books, Judith again rushed to the ramparts. Judith knew there was something special about a series of books that had captivated even reluctant readers, and she was not going to let the Religious Right take them away from children. The anti-Potter campaign soon collapsed under the weight of its own silliness.
To Judith, censorship was simply a lousy idea – no matter the reason. When some people called for removing The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from public schools because of its racially insensitive language, Judith was the first one to point out why that’s misguided. She’d rather we examine the times that produced the book and learn from that.
Judith helped me understand that despite our hallowed First Amendment, book censorship has a long lineage in America. For many years even in the 20th century, “Societies for the Suppression of Vice” worked in concert with conservative religious groups to attack material deemed “blasphemous” or “sacrilegious.” The books attacked were in no way pornographic; in fact, many are today considered classics. Yet book store owners could be criminally prosecuted for selling them.
Courts eventually began to strike down laws like this, and Judith and other activists worked hard to make sure there was no backsliding.
I’m going to miss Judith. If you would like to honor her memory and annoy the Religious Right at the same time, I have the perfect suggestion: Read a banned book.