The fault in our books?

by Justina Dobush

These days, logical arguments don’t seem to matter to people anymore, so I’ll speak with emotions and from my heart.

I just can’t understand how it is possible to blame literature and think that shaming people into reading certain books, not reading others, or trying to ban certain books altogether can solve a much bigger and more complicated problem. There are more than 2 million prisoners in the US – more than in the Soviet Union during Stalin’s purges in the 30s – and more than 200,000 of them are victims of sexual violence every year. The war on drugs is responsible for many of the victims of the criminal justice system, and really, it seems like the entire American justice system is drowning in unjust violence. Do you think that Hemingway is the problem? Do you think that in this world, where the amount of readers decreases day by day, “Gone with the Wind” is guilty in some way? Do you think that in this world of violent video games, TV shows, crime thrillers, the Kardashians and social media fakes that literature still has such power? Do you really believe that Toni Morrison can solve our problems? I could believe it if she made a YouTube channel and debated Jordan Peterson, but still. I recently read an article in which the author writes about the so-called American Soviet Mentality and can’t understand why, once again, the fucking Soviet Union has become part of the conversation. Dear Americans, please stop being so obsessed with the Soviet Union, be it romanticization or demonization. Open your eyes because there is one country that lives even more paradoxically – and it’s modern Russia. Stop talking about the cruel Soviet Union; start talking about the threateningly real Putin and his country. Read Peter Pomerantsev’s books and keep it real because when I see how white leftists are trying their best to “protect” minorities by policing language in all spheres of everyday life, I remember how Russians led by Putin decided to “protect” people in Eastern Ukraine from the “monsters” of the revolution who fought for democracy in 2014. All Ukrainian national symbols were interpreted as nazi, fascist or purely evil. They still hate Ukrainian culture and do everything to try and portray it as intolerant of different cultures and beliefs. And look at what great a job they did! Six years of war have brought happiness and peace to Luhansk and Donetsk People's Republics — you should definitely visit those places this summer. You’ll like it, as long as you don’t get murdered by Russian military forces, I promise you. So, Americans, you don’t need to venture into the past and compare yourself to the Soviet Union because modern Russia is your true mirror image.

But let’s get back to books.

Books have taught me that there are no simple answers to the questions in this world. They have taught me how to value every life in its complexity. Books have taught me to have a passionate interest in other individuals, what it means to be human, what bad habits should be erased for good, what it means to make a name for myself in this world, what it means to understand others, what it means to help, to empathize, and to be compassionate. Books have taught me to love everyone and not allow thoughts of hate or revenge to corrupt my soul. Anyone who reads books knows that revenge is not an option, nor is violence, nor is supremacy of any kind. Books have shown me how to respect others even when I think they are wrong. You can’t expect everyone to think and behave the same as you. Life doesn’t work like that. If it did, we wouldn't have crime, war, or other suffering. Books do not cause our barbarity, but they do cause our kindness, gentleness, and ability to understand each other.

The problem is not with books.

The problem is with how people choose to interpret books. You can choose to read an old book as hate speech or backward thinking but you can also choose, at the same time, to read it as a moment in history, which is now in the past. You can choose to hate those who lived before you, or you can choose to let them remain in the past. You can choose hate, but more importantly, you can choose to forgive. We can’t erase our past, but we can ensure it doesn’t define our future.

Literature is a way of seeing the past and future simultaneously. Literature allows us to remember how far we’ve come and what we must achieve. If we can’t change our beliefs, it’s not because of literature but ourselves, our mindsets, and our inability to realize the problem. One day, we glorify and exalt someone who fits into our highly subjective worldview; the next, we burn them alive. J.K. Rowling gave us a brilliant world of wizards and the triumph of good over evil. The Harry Potter books are a definitive part of almost everyone’s childhood, so what happens now? Will we burn her books because of her transphobic remarks? Why can’t we enjoy her books and condemn her remarks? Why can’t a person learn from their mistakes and grow? Why do we have to destroy them? Our values are too fragile, and our heroes nothing but toys. We don’t know what respect is, and we also don’t know what loyalty is, so be prepared. Eventually, the mob can choose you as their next enemy. No one is safe anymore.

On the other hand, I see this book-blaming as a part of something bigger. Somehow, we forget that literature is just literature, and books are not an extension of ourselves. For too many of us, books have become a tool, an argument in discussions, background material, or some accessory that proves our greatness. We turned them into our watches, guns, bags, Instagram-ready dishes, cocktails, and camera filters that soften wrinkles and cellulite, music hits, trendy shoes, and ideology. Our books are nowadays the way to think, breathe, feel, love, and have sex. We turned them into objects in our hyper-consumerist world; we buy them like cheap Chinese plastic things like they’re no different from some unimportant $2 piece of shit bought on AliExpress, or like it’s another fancy dog or cat like it’s another popular movement about which we’ll forget after one month. We turned books into kitsch with rainbow unicorns on the cover, book paper in colors of pure nirvana, the smell of paradise, and words that shine like Swarovski crystals. They should be warm, soft, and light as clouds, illuminating our lives like Latin American statues of Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary in an LSD vision of colors. They are supposed to be comfortable, decent, libertine, or super sensual, but in an allowable way so that they fit perfectly into the routines of our daily lives so that they can have more likes, comments, shares, cliches, envy, and delight. They can’t be old or unattractive; they can only smell like cacao or whatever is trendy nowadays. They are supposed to appeal to leftists, the right, conservatives, queers, LGBTQ+, eco-activists, and all of those who inhabit social media realities. Because outside of them, no one is left alive. The world outside is empty. The online world is even more empty, fast approaching oblivion. But books are our best friends; they don't support or define how to live. They just make sense — at least in my life. 

The books we read do not indicate our intelligence, sexuality, or social status; they demand the same respect as everyone else. They are more than a beautiful cover and an "important" topic. Each of them has its soul, its character, its voice. They are all unique and want to be heard, not muted by discussions, publications, reviews, presentations, book tours, promo codes, covers, and glossy paper, our point of view and the illusory purpose of their existence. Books should not be objectified. So please, don’t make them responsible for our mistakes, cruelty, and foolishness — they are not at fault.

Books can’t defend themselves, so don’t blame those who can’t answer. The fault is in our hearts and minds.

Photo by Anton Oliynyk