Some folks by the name of Chad Crabtree and Brandon Woods in Eugene, OR, founded a small literary magazine last year, fittingly called Arboreal. Their titular choice was linked to their own names, but also to the notions of “going out on a limb” – presenting new and surprising work, and “evergreen” – the idea that art is timeless. I have found the occasional interesting new voice there, but also benefitted from the editors’ knowledge of poetry in general. A real enrichment for the literary landscape.
Today’s selection of poems, for example, came from one of Crabtree’s recent essays, called Rooted in Verse: Our Favorite Poems About Trees which I went back to after I had seen an unusual tree last week, a 300 year old Sitka spruce that is called the Octopus tree for its shape that lacks a center trunk but has unfolding tentacle-like limbs.
I picked the Brooke and Larkin poems because they both dwell on the fragility of life, the darkness that is impending, the hopelessness that sneaks up on you when you consider the fleetingness of it all, loss and mortality – but then they both rise to a version of hope, the possibilities of peace or new beginnings. I think that’s what we need: hope and the possibility of dawn or spring (or even a permanent cease fire), even if they are delivered by the minor poet, but golden poster boy of romantic lyricism, Brooke, or the major poet of dark snakiness and sarcastic leanings, Larkin. On average, they got it right this time!
Pine-Trees and the Sky: Evening
I’d watched the sorrow of the evening sky, And smelt the sea, and earth, and the warm clover, And heard the waves, and the seagull’s mocking cry.
And in them all was only the old cry, That song they always sing — “The best is over! You may remember now, and think, and sigh, O silly lover!” And I was tired and sick that all was over, And because I, For all my thinking, never could recover One moment of the good hours that were over. And I was sorry and sick, and wished to die.
Then from the sad west turning wearily, I saw the pines against the white north sky, Very beautiful, and still, and bending over Their sharp black heads against a quiet sky. And there was peace in them; and I Was happy, and forgot to play the lover, And laughed, and did no longer wish to die; Being glad of you, O pine-trees and the sky!
When I came across Isobelle Ouzman’s project of cutting and drawing in old books my immediate association was one of contraband. Prison administrations have always claimed that drugs, cell phones, cigarettes and the like were smuggled into prison by friends and relatives, some via books, even though the evidence suggests that it is mainly prison staff who brings these things in and sells for a mighty profit (Here are the newest data.) So let’s look at prisons and books.
In case you missed it: Reading and other educational opportunities in prison reduce the likelihood of recidivism and increase the likelihood of gainful employment once you’re no longer incarcerated. Good news.
Likely you missed it: Not just prisoners, literature is locked up as well. There is an increasing trend across states to ban books in prison, often on arbitrary grounds, or make them available only at considerable cost. I am summarizing today what I learned from a PEN America report and an overview article about the state of censorship in U.S. state and federal prison. Another good source is the Marshall Project‘s collection of links to topics around book banning. Bad news.
Here is the long and the short of it. Prisons claim security concerns as the reason to ban books, and not just those with explicit sexual or violent content. Evidence that books are used to smuggle contraband is, as I said, sketchy at best. Nonetheless, over the last 5 years, many state and federal prison administrations have banned family members, charities and other outside parties from donating books, any books at all. Used books are completely prohibited. Only approved vendors can sell, and their offerings are arbitrarily restricted by decree from administrators.
“With free books banned, prisoners are forced to rely on the small list of “approved vendors” chosen for them by the prison administration. These retailers directly benefit when states introduce restrictions. In Iowa, the approved sources include Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million, some of America’s largest retail chains—and, notably, ones which charge the full MSRP value for each book, quickly draining prisoners’ accounts. An incarcerated person with, say, $20 to spend can now only get one book, as opposed to three or four used ones; in states where prisoners make as little as 25 cents an hour for their labor, many can’t afford even that.
With e-books, the situation is even worse, as companies like Global Tel Link supply supposedly “free” tablets which actually charge their users by the minute to read. Even public-domain classics, available on Project Gutenberg, are only available at a price under these systems—and prisons, in turn, receive a 5% commission on every charge. All of this amounts to rampant price-gouging and profiteering on an industrial scale.”
If that wasn’t bad enough, prison library budgets have also been cut increasingly, making it ever more difficult for prisoners to access literature.
In states where there are no general, content-neutral bans on book donations there are still arbitrary restrictions of what type of materials are allowed in. Or perhaps not so arbitrary after all. There are blanket restrictions on books that concern Black culture, urban novels that concern African-American crime and intrigue, comics and cartoons like MANGA, and literature on the Civil Rights movement. Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye and Alice Walker’s The Color Purple, which won a Pulitzer Prize are banned in several states, Hitler’s Mein Kampf is not. Censored also are multiple books about learning Arabic, Japanese and American Sign Language, instruction manuals about learning to be an electrician or computer programmer. (Here is a typical list of all the technical materials Oregon prisons prohibit, Windows 10 for Dummies included.)
Many states do not give access to their ban lists, unless you fight for them under the Freedom of Information Act. But we do know that Texas, for example, has a list of 15.000 titles by now, Florida banned over 20.000 books, a stunning number. Racially motivated restrictions are widespread. The New Jim Crow by civil rights lawyer Michelle Alexander, for example, examines the phenomenon of mass incarceration and argues that our incarceration practices represent a continuation of our country’s racist policies of the past. After its release, the book was banned in prisons in North Carolina, Florida, Michigan, and New Jersey. Two years ago, Arizona banned Chokehold: Policing Black Men, a book on racial injustice in the criminal justice system, written by Georgetown Law School professor Paul Butler. Prison Nation, a book examining the prison-industrial complex, was banned for “security threat group/white supremacy.” The Factory: A Journey Through the Prison Industrial Complex, about a formerly incarcerated person’s time behind bars and the school-to-prison pipeline, was banned for “encouraging activities that may lead to group disruption.” Blood in the Water, a Pulitzer Prize-winning book about the Attica uprising, was banned for “security concerns-encouraging group disruption. I’m certain, the 1619 project will be next on the list.
Here is something we can do: the American Library Association keeps a list of donation programs that send books into prison libraries where still allowed.
Contributing to one, any one, is a form of mutual aid and solidarity we can all practice.
Unless we agree with ever curmudgeon-y Philip Larkin, who had nothing better to do with his Oxford degree in English Language and Literature than to write this…
A Study Of Reading Habits
When getting my nose in a book Cured most things short of school, It was worth ruining my eyes To know I could still keep cool, And deal out the old right hook To dirty dogs twice my size.
Later, with inch-thick specs, Evil was just my lark: Me and my cloak and fangs Had ripping times in the dark. The women I clubbed with sex! I broke them up like meringues.
Don’t read much now: the dude Who lets the girl down before The hero arrives, the chap Who’s yellow and keeps the store Seem far too familiar. Get stewed: Books are a load of crap.
