By Laila Freeman
I’m a firm believer that just because you can do something, it doesn’t mean you should. Take the Manhattan Project, for instance. I know it’s an extreme example, but hear me out. Some of the most advanced scientists such as J. Robert Oppenheimer, Enrico Fermi, and Ernest Lawrence came together to create the atomic bomb. Because they knew they could do it, they went ahead and did. The repercussions of their invention have been beyond tragic.
I think writers need to be held accountable in the same way. Maybe think twice before writing something particularly alarming. I am wholeheartedly against censorship, however, I believe there is a major responsibility that rests on the shoulders of those in the arts and media.
Rage by Stephen King
Stephen King even banned his own book once (he requested his publisher remove it from further publication). In 1977, he published Rage, under the pseudonym Richard Bachman. The novel follows a high school senior who holds a classroom of students hostage and even murders a teacher. Since 1988, there have been several violent instances on school grounds that were incited and/or attempted by students who owned a copy of Rage:
[I deliberately did not include the names of these perpetrators out of respect for the victims and their families. I included hyperlinks in case you’d like to be informed on these instances.]
I’m not saying that Rage is the sole reason for these boys’ despicable behavior, however, it clearly had some influence on them. The LA Times reported that the 1988 attempted-murderer read Rage over and over again before threatening his humanities class with an AR-15. The 1993 killer had written a sympathetic essay on Rage that had concerned the very teacher he murdered. In the 1996 incident, the shooter murdered his algebra teacher, just like in Rage.
Stephen King released a nonfiction essay titled, “Guns,” shortly after the Sandy Hook tragedy in 2012, which also addressed the boys inspired by Rage. Here’s what King had to say:
“It took more than one slim novel to cause [the shooters] to do what they did. These were unhappy boys with deep psychological problems, boys who were bullied at school and bruised at home by parental neglect or outright abuse.”
“My book did not break [them] or turn them into killers; they found something in my book that spoke to them because they were already broken. Yet I did see Rage as a possible accelerant which is why I pulled it from sale. You don't leave a can of gasoline where a boy with firebug tendencies can lay hands on it.”
He further explains why he pulled his book from further publication in 1998: “...in my judgment it might be hurting people, and that made it the responsible thing to do. Assault weapons will remain readily available to crazy people until the powerful pro-gun forces in this country decide to do a similar turnaround. They must accept responsibility, recognizing that responsibility is not the same as culpability.”
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Another book that needs examination is The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, which allegedly influenced John Lennon’s killer.
After shooting Lennon on Dec. 9, 1980, Mark David Chapman sat on a curb and read his copy of The Catcher in the Rye, while awaiting arrest according to Slate. The New York Times even reported that Chapman urged others to read the book because it would “help many to understand what has happened.”
In an Apple TV+ documentary, “John Lennon: Murder Without a Trial,” Chapman revealed how much he looked up to Holden Caulfield, the book’s main character. Caulfield grapples with his teen angst and adults he deems “phonies” in the story.
In the documentary, Chapman states, “I thought I would turn into somebody if I killed somebody. I thought I would turn into Holden Caulfield.”
Chapman believed Lennon was a “phony,” just like the ones Caulfield complained about. He found Lennon’s messages on love and nonmaterialism hypocritical to the former Beatles star’s lifestyle. Chapman was a previous mental patient who, allegedly, attempted suicide two times before he murdered Lennon.
I’ve read The Catcher in the Rye, and while it wasn’t my cup of tea, I know many people who love this book, and they’re not deranged or violent. It reminds me of what Stephen King said in his essay, “Guns” about Rage’s effect on school shooters: “My book did not break (them) or turn them into killers; they found something in my book that spoke to them because they were already broken.”
Chapman most likely was also not made into a killer by The Catcher in the Rye, but instead, found a solace in Holden Caulfield that emphasized his brokenness and ultimately led to violence.
So, should writers hinder their creativity and imagination out of fear of the mentally disturbed finding harmful motivation in their work?
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
The other day, I explored this ‘writers should be like scientists’ concept with some writer friends of mine, and Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov was brought up. I’ve never read this novel, nor do I plan to. I think its subject matter goes unsaid, so I won’t be providing a synopsis.
The work inevitably brings up the question—why did Nabokov write it? Lolita has been labeled as an exploration of the human psyche or as a satire like in The New Yorker article from 1958.
For Literary Hub, Author Monika Zgustova dissects the parallels between Lolita and Nabokov's memoir titled, Speak, Memory, where he talks about his experience as a young boy with his inappropriate uncle.
Zgustova writes, “Nabokov never intended to write a pamphlet, although between the lines he made it clear for those who know how to read that he rejected the unworthy seducer of minors and that Lolita was a victim, like Nabokov himself.”
In 1959, Encounter Magazine featured Nabokov’s “On a Book Entitled "Lolita"” which is supposed to answer the question of why he wrote it, and yet, still left me unsatisfied. Here are some moments in the excerpt I found interesting:
“No writer in a free country should be expected to bother about the exact demarcation between the sensuous and the sensual; this is preposterous; I can only admire but cannot emulate the accuracy of judgment of those who pose the fair young mammals photographed in magazines where the general neckline is just low enough to provoke a past master’s chuckle and just high enough not to make a postmaster frown.”
“I am neither a reader nor a writer of didactic fiction, and, despite John Ray’s assertion, Lolita has no moral in tow. For me a work of fiction exists only in so far as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm. There are not many such books.”
Nabokov states that “every serious writer” finds the presence of their published book to be comforting and goes on to say, “I have not reread Lolita since I went through the proofs in the winter of 1954 but I find it to be a delightful presence now that it quietly hangs about the house like a summer day which one knows to be bright behind the haze.” — This part definitely raised my eyebrows.
“On the other hand, my creature Humbert is a foreigner and an anarchist, and there are many things, besides nymphets, in which I disagree with him.” — This is the only time in the article that Nabokov bluntly states that he disagrees with his main character’s twisted desires.
In Lolita’s first three weeks of publication, it sold over 100,000 copies. As of 2018, the novel has sold over 50 million copies worldwide. I know this book can be found in different curriculums, but doesn’t this alarm anyone else? Who knows how many people have used Lolita as their perverse manifesto.
There are critics that do find Lolita to be a fascinating social commentary that can be “misinterpreted,” so the question raised in the discussion with my writer friends was, “whose shoulders does a poor misinterpretation fall on? The author or the reader?”
Final Thoughts
This creates a new gray area, but it’s one worth considering. I’m against censorship, nor do I want to tell writers what they can and cannot write. I’m simply encouraging mindfulness.
I agree with Rick Rubin’s sentiment that “the audience comes last” when creating, but if you’re creating something exceptionally polarizing, you should at least consider the repercussions, especially if it could perpetuate harm against others.
As a writer, my imagination sometimes takes me to obscure and grotesque places that on one hand, could make for interesting stories, and on another, could also be grossly imitated by people or be used as justification for atrocities. Just because you can create something, doesn’t mean you should because you have no idea what horrendous events it could inspire.
