ARTIST'S STATEMENT
Burn a book? Never. I can barely bring myself to give
them away or even lend them. But when Pen USA, the international
writers’ rights organization, asked me to set ablaze
and photograph seven of the best books ever written, in
the name of artistic freedom and the First Amendment, I
agreed very quickly. Pen USA holds a benefit reading (Forbidden
Fruit) during which actors read from seven selected titles
on the American Library Association’s list of one
hundred most challenged books of the preceding decade.
A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials
based upon the objections of a person or group. Challenges
do not simply involve a person expressing a point of view;
they are an attempt to remove material from the curriculum
or library, thereby restricting the access of others to
that book. Between 1990 and 2000, 6,364 challenges by groups
or individuals were reported to the American Library Association’s
Office of Intellectual Freedom. In 2005, Judy Blume was
the most challenged author in America.
These attempts at censorship do not always succeed. But
sometimes they do. Municipalities do ban books from their
public libraries and school libraries in America. On rare
occasions, instead of ordering the school janitor to shred
the book or disposing of it in the used book marketplace,
members of a community have been allowed to publicly burn
the books. In February, 2005, “concerned” parents
in Norwood, Colorado, actually burned Bless Me, Ultima
by Rudolfo Anaya after succeeding in having the book banned
from the middle school curriculum and library. They believed
the book promoted paganism. And did they see the false
idols dying in the flames of Bless Me, Ultima?
In my previous series of photographs and sculptures, Shot
by the Writer, I fired live ammunition through final drafts
of all the assigned worked I had done as a screenwriter
for hire but did not own or control. I had been well paid
for the writing. But this work did not and never would
belong to me again. I found my own, altogether different
visual terms for these creative efforts re-creating them
as lost wax bronze sculptures and archival prints from
large-format transparencies.
When Pen USA asked me to burn great books for them, I
was honored and surprised that a higher use had been found
for the creative schematics and visual skill sets I had
honed with Shot by the Writer. Sanctioned by renowned supporters
of writing to commit this forbidden act, I plunged forward
and began acquiring and burning books so that they might
never be burned again.
Continues below.
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Technically, I schooled myself on the challenges of working
with live fire. A book on fire is dangerous and fast moving.
It’s gone in twenty minutes. From a visual standpoint,
I understood the dramatic visual interplay that ash, flames
and smoke would have on printed words. But I needed to
explore the effect of fire on different kinds of editions.
Months earlier, I had acquired a copy of Billy Bathgate
by E.L. Doctorow which I discovered was a first edition.
As I began to read it, I found myself very sensitive to
the quality of the paper, the design of the letters, the
feel of the excellent cloth-covered, hard bound edition
with its clean, fresh dust jacket; how good binding elevates
a text, adds presence, weight to the act of reading. I
fantasized about seeing my own novel presented within such
a sumptuous container. I would never again pick up a book
in quite the same way. The text -- the book -- is paramount.
But a good book deserves to be printed and bound properly,
mythologized in its packaging.
With this heightened palate, I inventoried the used book
stores within driving distance. I cyber-rummaged Amazon.com
and the various used-book off-shoots of Amazon Marketplace.
As I acquired multiple copies of the designated victims,
I was filled with sadness and regret, yet commissioned
with a license to transcend the implicit wickedness, the
malicious sickness of the action. Burning books is a taboo.
Picking up the last few copies of these volumes at the
handful of excellent used book stores in Los Angeles, I
was greatly stricken. The owners of these stores select
books to sell because they are worthy. They are the keepers
of the good books – which I was assigned to destroy.
I was acquiring copies that would be martyrs, dying so
others might live, a challenge to the challengers, because
free people read freely.
Editions of the seven chosen books began piling up in
my office: Old paperbacks, first editions, brand new commemorative
volumes, used trade paperbacks, retired library editions.
I burned the books, not to suppress them, but to promote
them. Fire is passion. The greatest passions are never-ending
fires. And so it is with great books and the great ideas
they convey. As they flickered away and turned to ash,
I fought time and nature to capture some part of the soul
of the text in the camera before it went up completely.
Book lovers and book haters share knowledge of the quality
different editions possess. In hand or in flames, cheap
paperbacks move fast. Hardcover books tend to burn more
slowly. Opened up, on fire, the pages turn langorously
on their own. Corners turn evocatively. The spine stands
alone once the pages turn to ash. Trade paperbacks are
deceptive. Sometimes they go up like cheap paperbacks.
But often, they hold the staying power of hardbacks.
Ironically, I had just completed my own first novel. To
study fiction technique, every evening before bed, I habitually
read a short story or a chapter from a novel. Over the
last year and a half I have read the collected works of
William Trevor, Alice Munro and Flannery O’Connor.
These authors have rekindled my love affair with the printed
word, its power to convey so much to the imagination in
ways no other medium can. I had begun to appreciate anew
the act of reading, the magic of the book, the power of
great writing to take hold of us and stimulate thought,
feeling, emotion. My own novel, The Bad Version, is also
about a text: A screenplay. In my story, this fictional
screenplay matters in the world only because it has meaning
for one single reader.
There are those who would deny us the opportunity to read
books which they deem objectionable. They must understand
well that books change lives, elevate minds, illuminate
details of existence like no other art form can. Fearing
that this power will somehow do damage, they seek to eliminate
controversial books from their communities, our world.
I burn copies of these challenged books, with the hope
that the firelight will somehow illuminate the tyrannical
nature of these challenges. These fires are set as a challenge
to their challenges. We will not ban their right to challenge
but we will do our utmost to prevent the banning of these
books we cherish or any books at all in our world.
Fire does fascinate. It creates dynamic visual effects
on paper which are extraordinary to document photographically.
The censors who burn these books must watch the flames
with sanctimonious glee, sure they are doing the right
thing. We must more than match the passion of the censors
who would burn to negate. As I precisely and carefully
burned their targets for them, safe in the knowledge that
there was no shortage of these publications and that I
was not denying access to these works to anyone, I attempted
to shed light on these attempted crimes against freedom.
There are people in America who want to destroy the parts
of our culture of which they disapprove. They would withhold
To Kill A Mockingbird, Slaughterhouse Five, Beloved, Leaves
of Grass, Always Running, A Wrinkle in Time, A Light in
the Attic and hundreds of other books from everyone. Free
people read freely. The paper may burn but the words, the
ideas, the dances of thought and imagery they convey linger
in the smoke and ash. I can read the words within the fire
and ash. They linger even after the paper is all gone. |
