Ventiak
an island somewhere in the brain
The subject of pornography seems to persist. Last night our gin engendered discussions turned to it again. This time it was Rupert who was asking the awkward questions. Never let a logician loose on a question of morality.
'You can't stop people thinking things,' he said.
'What things?' Janice asked.
'Fantasies. Whatever they are. However horrible.'
'No,' Amanda agreed. 'You can't stop them.'
'Would you if you could, though?'
'Well, if they were going to do certain things...'
'But thinking doesn't inevitably lead to doing, does it?' Rupert interrupted.
'No.'
'So, if they didn't do anything...'
'Thought police!' Trevor said, grinning. For once he was enjoying Rupert's line of argument.
'No,' Amanda said. 'I guess not.'
'What if they wrote these fantasies down. Or drew pictures..'
'What for?' Janice asked.
'For their own personal amusement. Should that be a crime?'
'It is in this country,' I said. 'You're not allowed to be in possession of certain kinds of depiction.'
'What kinds?' Janice asked.
'Well, child pornography, mostly.'
'That's disgusting.'
'Yes, but I don't know that being disgusting should be a crime, should it?' Rupert said. 'I was at school with someone who really got off on wartime atrocities - photos of the Japanese decapitating prisoners or of concentration camp victims. He loved it.'
Janice pulled a face. 'Yuk!'
'Kinky place, Hutt Valley High,' Trevor said.
Rupert ignored him. 'I mean, he wasn't nice, this person. But should he have been considered a criminal?'
'The way I see it is this,' Amanda said. 'If we think that art and literature are uplifting and ennobling, we have to accept that depictions of certain things are corrupting.'
'Yes,' Rupert answered. 'But who's to censor them, that's the point.'
There was a fine gathering of pelicans yesterday evening at the children's book awards. Jim Allen, CEO of the chief sponsor gave an impassioned speech, which demonstrated that he had read a good number of the short-listed books. The round minister gave her usual speech demonstrating that she hadn't. She was, however, enormously pleased to be present at such a fabulous occasion, as we expected. And, indeed, it was a grand night for celebrating authors and publishers and readers. Barbara and I were especially gratified that our good friend Aaron Topp received an honour award for his excellent young adult novel Single Fin and there were many other friends and relations there to keep the warm fuzzies purring till midnight.
As usual with me, however, I began to speculate on the downside of the affair. It's all very well for the round minister to enthuse about about our fine writers and publishers and the fabulous partnerships that have developed with the commercial world under the auspices of the fantastically wise and all seeing Labour government but I'm afraid I miss the old days somehow, the days when writers were on the other side of the fence and were more concerned about putting the boot in than in winning prizes (that's mainly because there weren't any prizes). Perhaps the children's book awards were the wrong place for this sort of curmudgeonly thought but still.
Amanda will no doubt tell you what an ornery critter I am. She will delight in pointing out how I've spent years banging on about the government doing more to support the arts and literature and now that it's happening to some moderate degree I start yearning for the old days of bitterness and disgruntlement. Fair comment really. It's just that sometimes I wish there was a little bit more of an edge to it all.
My good friend Graham Beattie has alerted me to a piece about super-geek Bill Gates regarding the future of reading. Gates, it seems, believes all reading will be 'online' in the future. It is noticeable, though, that his comments seem directed entirely at the reading of magazines and newspapers. Possibly, he doesn't read books.
Elsewhere (in the steam-age newspaper, actually) I notice that a Korean company has developed electronic paper - sheets of plastic (presumably) that are paper-thin and can be loaded and reloaded with text or illustrations, possibly even video. It seems that the electronic book may soon be upon us - i.e. something with a binding and pages into which we can download whatever text we choose. Such a device, if it could be made to deliver print quality comparable to that of paper, would, of course, revolutionise the business of publishing. And a good thing, too, perhaps.
Clearly, though, there is going to be an interesting contest between the traditional kind of reading experience available through such an electronic book and the mixed-media whizz-bang stuff that Gates is talking about. I am fool enough to predict that the book will survive, albeit in an electronic form. This is for three reasons:
Of course, it may well be the case that fiction has fewer and fewer readers as time goes by - it may become a minority art form, like poetry - but I think the book, more or less as we know it, will still be around.