Notice. All boys and inexperienced men must not grind on the rest side of this stone.

 

This is one of the more intriguing of many railway signs in the Assemblage area of the new Museum of Making in Derby. Another sign warned: “Danger. Midland Railway. Gunpowder van not to be loose shunted.” Yet another read: “Midland Railway. The public are earnestly requested to REFRAIN FROM SPITTING and so help the Company to keep their Stations and Carriages clean and healthy.”

Photo courtesy of John Peacock.

My friend from my days in Macmillan Publishers, John Peacock, and I were in Derby, partly to visit the city’s museums, and also to watch Derby County (John was born and raised in Derby) play Ipswich Town (my hometown). Since the score was Derby 0 – Ipswich 2, we will pass lightly over the football and concentrate on the museums.

Derby’s biggest draw is its collection of 32 of the paintings of Joseph Wright of Derby (1734-1797). Wright worked at a time of scientific enquiry and inventions that were part of the story of the Industrial Revolution. Porcelain manufacture began at Royal Crown Derby in 1750. The valley of the river Derwent became an important centre for textile mills powered by water. A silk mill began production Derby in 1725. Further upstream, in 1771 Richard Arkwright, inventor of a spinning frame to twist thread, and of a carding engine to process raw cotton, and other processes that enabled mass production of cloth, founded a cotton mill at Cromford with his partners, the nonconformist hosiery manufacturers Jedediah Strutt and Samuel Need. Arkwright built a still larger mill there in 1776, and soon afterwards at Bakewell and Wirksworth.

Portrait of Richard Arkwright (right) and of his son Richard and his family (left) in the Wright room of Derby Museum and Art Gallery

Wright’s large portrait of an expensively dressed, self-satisfied and corpulent Arkwright hangs in the Derby Museum, a spinning frame on the table next to him. In an equally grand portrait his son, also named Richard, is attired as a man of fashion, not to say a dandy, accompanied by his expensively dressed wife and daughter. Wright’s portrait of Strutt is of a more pensive character. Scientific enquiry is represented in the Derby collection by a portrait of Wright’s friend the geologist, instrument and clock maker John Whitehurst. A volcano in the background signals the sitter’s vocation. The collection also has two of Wright’s ten self-portraits. The earliest, aged about 20, shows us a slightly apprehensive or wary young man, who nevertheless has dressed himself ostentatiously in the style of a sitter of Sir Anthony van Dyck. Some twenty years later, Wright depicted himself as an artist, wearing an elaborate turban and holding white chalk in his left hand. His expression exudes the calm confidence of a man who knows he is a success.

Wright was a fine portraitist, but he is still more famous for his paintings of scientific experiments, notably An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump (1768, National Gallery, London) and manufacturing. Unfortunately, the jewel of the Derby collection, A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery (1776) was on loan, but The Alchymist in Search of the Philosopher’s Stone, an imaginary depiction of the discovery of phosphorus was on display. The alchymist looks on in wonder as the phosphorus glows on contact with oxygen. John tells me that Wright reworked this painting over a period of many years. It clearly meant much to him.

The Alchymist in Search of the Philosopher's Stone

The Derby collection also includes some accomplished landscapes, such as Landscape with a Rainbow (1795) in which Wright demonstrates his skilful handling of light. Wright’s patrons were also buyers of romantic images drawn from literary works of the time. In an idealized image of The Widow of an Indian Chief Watching the Arms of her Deceased Husband, a gorgeous young woman looks pensively over a raging sea, storm clouds above torn by lightning, while sun in the distance promises better weather. The dead chief’s weapons hang on a tree next to her. The subject is from the writings of Laurence Sterne. An equally sentimentally tragic image is Mary and her Dog Silvio (1781), based on Sterne’s novel Sentimental Journey (1768). Mary has lost her mind after being abandoned by her lover and has only her little dog to comfort her. Less successful, apparently, was Wright’s portrayal of Juliet about to kill herself after she discovers Romeo’s body. No doubt, the wife of the Indian chief was equally grief-stricken, but that image is much less dark and tragic than the painting of Shakespeare’s couple.

The Widow of an Indian Chief Watching the Arms of her Deceased Husband

A contemporary and friend of Wright was Joseph Pickford, a prolific architect, whose Georgian family home (1770) in Derby is now a museum. Like Wright, a number of Pickford’s clients were members of the Lunar Society of Birmingham, a group devoted to scientific enquiry. Josiah Wedgwood, a helpful member of the museum’s staff informed us, commissioned a number of buildings from Pickford. Wedgewood was also one of Wright’s patrons.

The dining room of the Pickford House. The large portrait of three children is Joseph Wright's The Children of Hugh and Sarah Wod of Swanwick, Derbyshire (1789) (photo courtesy of John Peacock).

The café where we had a toasted ham and cheese sandwich before going to the art gallery had a notice advertising a takeaway Yorkshire tea, instant coffee or orange squash for what the customer can afford to pay to alleviate the cost-of-living crisis. This indication that Derby’s glory days are in its past, was supported by the jaded appearance of many of the city’s Georgian buildings. Indeed, the substantial house in which, its blue plaque informs us, John Flamsteed (1646-1719), the first Astronomer Royal, lived from 1688, and which Wright occupied from 1793 until his death in 1797, is boarded up and derelict.

 

The former silk mill, now the Museum of Making, its italianate tower no doubt a reference to the stolen industrial screts that led to its opening (photo courtesy of John Peacock).

Three hundred years ago, this city of 16,308 people (the population is now 259,000) must have seemed far more prosperous, at least to its men of business. Fortunes could be made here in textiles, porcelain and other ventures, although the workers of the mills and factories would probably have appreciated a pay-what-you-can cup of tea. This Derby is showcased in the Museum of Making, housed in the silk mill, powered by the Derwent that opened in 1717, using technological secrets acquired in Italy by the industrial spy John Lombe.  As visitors walk up the stairs to the exhibit rooms, they pass cases with items from the city’s manufacturing past, all labelled consistently When, Who, How and Why. These might be barometers, items of railway equipment, white plastic calculators used to control processes, or a beautiful work of metal filigree decorated with tiny metal birds made by a retired worker to demonstrate his skill. At the top is an enormous Rolls Royce jet engine, and below it the engine made by the firm to power the plane that crossed the Atlantic from Canada to Ireland in 1915.

 

Rolls Royce jet engine (photo courtesy of John Peacock).

1915 Rolls Royce engine (photo courtesy of John Peacock).

The visitor enters the main exhibit room to find displays relating to the textile industry and other aspects of the economy of Derby in its 18^th- and 19^th-century heyday. A narrow fabric loom is on display, as are a silk waistcoat dated to c.1780, a jar of silk thread and a reel of cotton thread made at the Boar’s Head Cotton Manufactory at Darley Abbey. The latter carries the slogan “A product of British Labour”. A piece of heavy machinery, the grasshopper beam engine made by George Fletcher & Sons Ltd. sugar machine engineers, was widely used in the Caribbean sugar industry.

 

Narrow fabric loom (photo courtesy of John Peacock).

The curators have been particularly diligent in pointing out at every opportunity that many Derby businesses benefited from slavery, which clearly was the case. Repeatedly, a label ends with two or three sentences noting that a piece of machinery, an invention or a product could not have generated the wealth enjoyed by its manufacturers were it not for enslaved labour. George Fletcher’s wealth came not just from his engine, we are told, but from the Caribbean sugar industry predicated on slave labour. The effect is not so much to inform the visitor as to lecture, much as parents once told children not to speak at the table when eating. A much more visitor-friendly and informative approach would have been a more extensive display panel that set the international context for Derby’s industrial success. For example, the exploitation of British Labour is given a panel which records the Derby silk mill lockout of 1833-1834. The workers were eventually starved back to work and union members blacklisted. It would be more informative to link the exploitation of Derbyshire labourers and enslaved workers together as integral parts of an imperial economic system, rather than treating them separately and differently.

 

Indeed, one of the smallest exhibits suggests that the international links of Derby’s industries were wide and varied. A small silver coin, overstamped with the legend “Cromford Derbyshire 4/9” was minted in the Spanish Americas and bears the portrait of King Charles IV of Spain. The coin was issued as a token to Arkwright’s millworkers instead of cash wages. It could be used only in Arkwright’s mill’s own stores. The explanatory label notes that “Spain became the world’s leading supplier of silver in the 1500s due to its colonisation and exploitation of the land and people of Central [sic: North and Central] and Southern America.” In fact, the mines of Mexico and Peru were worked by impressed Indigenous labour and African slave labour – the curators missed an opportunity to lecture the visitor here.

The Cromford silver token.

However, important as all these questions are, the exhibits are, above all, a testament to enormous human ingenuity and creativity. For example, “The Whitehurst family made pioneering scientific instruments and clocks in the 1700s.” The clockmaking tradition was continued in 1856 by one of Whitehurst’s apprentices, John Smith, whose firm still makes clocks in Derby. Derby continues to be a centre for precision engineering. A local firm makes bespoke components for aerospace and motorsport, and another produces single-use sterile medical devices. The city is also a centre of video game design. 

The microscope of Erasmus Darwin, Charles Darwin's grandfather.

 

Some objects were made out of sheer enthusiasm and to demonstrate Derby’s or an individual’s prowess. The Jones 250 Twin motorcycle, for example, was made by “Rolls-Royce employee Dennis Jones between 1953 and 1955. This one-off bike was built to challenge the Japanese manufacturers and to compete in 250cc class races. The bike was raced in the 1955 Isle of Man Tourist Trophy.”

Dennis Jones' motorcycle.

 

John Peacock’s father, Denis, was born in Oxenhope, Yorkshire. After taking an external University of London Degree in engineering at Bradford Technical College, he arrived in Derby looking for a job. Derby was then one of the main railway hubs in the UK. Denis started as a draughtsman and eventually became a Chief Scientific Officer (research engineer), specializing in braking systems. When we spotted a wooden model of a train used to test a new design in a wind tunnel in the museum’s collection, John recalled his father entertaining him by placing him in the wind tunnel. John remarked: “To this day gale-force winds and the smell of highly varnished wood still take me all the way back.”

Notices and a technical drawing from Derby's railways. The drawing is a design for a bridge on the road from Derby to Ashby-de-la-Zouche.

 

Objects from the railways constitute a large portion of objects displayed in the Assemblage. This is the equivalent of the traditional museum store rooms where objects not on display are kept, often in deep basement rooms. Here, however, the objects are on open racks, classified by material (metal, ceramics, textile etc.), as suggested by the people of Derby. There are numbers of railway lamps, dials and other control devices such as levers to change the points, and many admonitory cast-iron notices, as well as international advertising for Midland Railway, “La route pittoresque à travers le centre de l’Angleterre.” Indeed, the railway had an office at 1 Place de l’Opéra in Paris. The ceramics section’s Midland Railway dinner services are testimony to an era of railway dining long replaced by the dreaded trolley serving industrial sandwiches and terrible tea and coffee.

 

A Midland Railway advertising poster.

John tells me that many of the railway buildings and infrastructure have disappeared under redevelopment and ground clearance schemes. One building that was spared the schemes of urban planners, is the former Roundhouse, which housed a circular turntable for repairing locomotives. It is now a reading room for Derby University.

 

Derby roundhouse (built 1839) in its original railway context. The other structures and the rail tracks have been replaced by a variety of indifferent modern business buildings and roads.

Other Derby achievements documented in the museum’s collection include: the first mass-production of red pillar boxes in the late 1800s by Andrew Handyside & Co’s foundry; William Strutt’s invention in the 1800s of ceramic pots to create fire breaks between the floors of buildings and thus reduce fire risks. Haslam Foundry and Engineering Co invented refrigeration for ships in 1894, which allowed global shipping of perishable food. The curator, never missing an opportunity to inform, reminds us: “Transporting produce by sea and air [not attributable to Haslam’s invention] has serious long term implications for the environment, but such trade can benefit the economies and living standards where the good originate.” After reading this, I reflected that the benefits in terms of living standards earnestly wished for by the museum curator might not be quite what is hoped for in a world where enormous corporations control the growing and transport of those goods, produced with cheap un-unionised workers. For example, I doubt that the directors of the United Fruit Company, who had the US government depose the elected President of Guatemala, Jacobo Arbenz in 1954, acted to improve the lot of its workers.

 

A Derby pillar box.

I should also note that the staff of all three museums were uniformly friendly, helpful and well-informed. They were clearly proud of their museums and were determined to ensure that visitors enjoyed the collections. They were informative and helped us to find items that we were particularly keen to see. In the Pickford House a member of staff enabled us to examine close up a painting of 18^th-century Derby which was difficult to see from the area roped off for public viewing.

 

One display that attracted our attention in the Pickford House was a splendid collection of toy theatres. The large collection was donated to Derby’s museums by a local collector. I noticed a Dracula Theatre based on the artist Edward Gorey’s stage design for the 1977 Broadway production starring Frank Langella, published by Scribner’s Sons, New York, in 1979 (I briefly did some business with Scribner’s around that time). Indeed, an information panel informs us, the world premiere of Dracula in May 1924 took place in the Grand Theatre in Derby. The widow of Bram Stoker was in the audience. The theatre was said to be haunted by the shades of an actor and carpenter who died in a fire in 1886, which made it an especially suitable venue. Bela Lugosi played the role of Dracula at the Derby Hippodrome in 1951 “to packed out audiences and rave reviews.”

 

The Scribner Dracula theatre.

Unfortunately, by the 1950s the Grand Theatre was semi-derelict. It survived as a dance hall and later a night club. More recently, it has housed an all-you-can eat Chinese buffet called May Sum. It is now an indoor golf complex called House of Holes. In some respects, the history of the theatre seems an apt metaphor for Derby’s treatment of its heritage.

The Grand Theatre Derby, 1912 (photo by F W Scarratt).

 

Authoritarian Britain

 

Our current Conservative government has been ready to use a variety of tools at its disposal to suppress dissent and views that it considers unacceptable. For, example, museums have traditionally had considerable autonomy and curatorial freedom. When Oliver Dowden was secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport from 2020-2021, the government was distinctly hostile to those who held negative views of the British Empire and British involvement in slavery, and to movements such as Black Lives Matter. The Conservatives much preferred positive portrayals of British imperialism, to emphasize British involvement in the abolition of slavery, and to deny that institutional racism exists in the UK. Dowden wrote to Museums to tell them that any that receive government money should reflect the general views of the British public (implicitly those approved by the government). Dowden also refused to renew the appointments of some museum trustees of decidedly anti-imperialist views.

 

The censorship of unwelcome views can be extended even to those whom the government has wronged. For example, the government itself has accepted that many British citizens of Caribbean origin (members or descendants of the “Windrush Generation”) were wrongly deported, denied healthcare, dismissed from the jobs and left penniless because of gross government errors and discrimination. The government has praised itself for its determination to right the wrongs it had committed. A monument to the Windrush Generation has been erected in Waterloo railway station, compensation has been paid (slowly and inadequately to the extent that recipients have died waiting). In return, the Windrush Generation is expected to be grateful: lack of gratitude will be punished. For example, in the last financial year a number of Windrush organizations were to receive grants of £10,000 for programmes to support the Windrush victims, but officials were ordered to check that none had expressed opinions that rendered them unworthy of government largesse. Two were found to have retweeted articles from newspapers critical of government policy, so the grant programme was suspended.

 

Our government is also redefining the boundaries of civil rights to reduce, or withhold altogether, the civil and human rights of those deemed unworthy of full protection. This discriminatory approach has been applied to the right to protest. Groups protesting against the fossil fuel industry, those who finance it, and the government that subsidizes it are particularly out of favour. New restrictions have been introduced, the government argues, to protect the rights of the public not to be inconvenienced by protests. But the restrictions have been targeted not at all protest, but rather at methods recently used by anti-fossil fuel groups. There is already legislation that the police can use to clear protests that, for example, obstruct the highway by people gluing themselves to the road or chaining themselves to railings and so on. However, now the mere possession of something that can be used for such purposes with intent to use it in a protest is a criminal offence punishable by imprisonment.

 

As a matter of policy, the government has steadily reduced the incomes and living standards of public sector workers, from nurses, doctors and ambulance drivers, to teachers and officials who issue passports, for thirteen years. When inflation exceeded 11%, these workers decided that enough was enough and voted to strike. Union rights have been eroded for decades, but until now, although the legal requirements to call a strike have been tightened, the right to strike itself has not been challenged. The government’s first reaction to the strikes was to refuse to negotiate and to threaten unions with legislation to mandate “minimum service levels” (already achieved by negotiation in the case of health workers) in the event of strikes, on pain of enormous financial penalties for the unions.

 

The government judged, perhaps mistakenly, that the public would tire of striking public sector workers, but has been on safer ground when creating and exploiting animosity towards refugees. Those who arrive on what are described as “small boats”, in fact inflatables unsuited for the purpose, across the English Channel are now declared to be illegal for choosing that method of entry to the UK. These refugees, most of whom seek asylum, are, the government argues “jumping the queue” to enter the UK ahead of others who politely wait in refugee camps or detention centres elsewhere for the UK government to grant a small number refugee status. They are further said to be misbehaving by not claiming asylum in the first safe country which they enter when fleeing persecution, despite the fact that international conventions agreed by the UK stipulate no such requirement. The government and its MPs further portray these refugees as a thoroughly bad lot by asserting that they are not really refugees fleeing persecution because they are “all men” (which of course is not true: many are but not all). That this is a specious argument is disproved by the fact that a majority of those who enter the country in this way and who claim asylum are granted it by the same government that denounces them as not being “real refugees”.

 

New legislation proposes to detain all who arrive in boats and to return them to their country of origin or to a “third safe country” such as Rwanda. Unaccompanied children not be detained (but children who arrive as part of a family group will be imprisoned with their family). Thus, accompanied children are granted lesser rights than unaccompanied children. As UK child protection law requires, unaccompanied children will be provided with a safe and stable place to live until they are 18 years old, at which point, however, they will be deported. This raises two important human rights and child protection questions. Firstly, detention of children who are part of a family group is a very significant and retrograde change of existing government policy, which was introduced in law by the Conservative Cameron administration. No other child in the UK could be treated in this way. Secondly, the expulsion of unaccompanied children at age 18 contradicts current child protection laws, which require the government to provide ongoing support until the young woman/man is 25. Thus, in order to (as the three-word government slogan goes) Stop the Boats, the government is discriminating against children simply because of their manner of arrival and whether or not they arrived with family members.

 

The question of refugees and immigration, leads neatly on to sustained pressure from the Conservative Party to undermine the autonomy, and indeed as some would wish, to abolish the BBC altogether.  The BBC has long been a target for the hostility of members of the Conservative party and the privately-owned media in the UK. In the case of the former, they much prefer the generally automatic support afforded to the Conservative Party, especially by the majority of newspapers, and correspondingly hostile coverage of the Labour Party. At its best, the BBC has an unpleasant habit of questioning government policies and actions, and on occasion of exposing governmental malfeasance (in the case of both Labour and Conservative governments). Since 2010, Conservative administrations have reduced the funding the BBC receives from the license fee, obliged the BBC to take on additional obligations (e.g. providing free licenses for people over 75, previously funded by the government; paying the cost of the BBC World Service, likewise previously funded by the government).

 

The BBC has received the message: if it is deemed not to be “impartial” in its coverage of the government, the BBC will suffer severe consequences. The Director General appointed in 2020 instituted new “impartiality” guidelines. Whenever an adverse comment, however mild or reasoned, is made about government policy or actions, a presenter reads a government comment or response. This might seem reasonable if a political opponent of the government has made a tendentious or unsubstantiated comment about the government. However, if, for example, a scientist is interviewed about the causes of increased pollution of rivers, caused by the government’s failure to implement policies to control pollution, the news item will end with a government statement along the lines of: “Since 2010 we have invested record amounts in pollution prevention and are committed to ensuring that our rivers remain healthy and support a diverse and thriving range of wildlife.” While the scientist will be questioned and challenged as to the accuracy of the research findings, the government statement is read without criticism, comment or analysis. In effect, the BBC becomes a government spokesperson.

 

Recently, Gary Lineker (for my American friends: a former star footballer, now the BBC’s presenter of football coverage) criticized the government’s proposed anti-refugee measures. Lineker noted that the numbers of refugees that arrive in the UK is tiny compared to the numbers accepted by many European countries, and commented that the language used by the government is comparable in its intent to the language used by the Nazis in the 1930s. This provoked instant uproar from the government and its supporters. Lineker was (inaccurately) accused of comparing Conservative party policy to that of the Nazis (this is not what he said). The remarks of one football commentator were presented as conclusive proof that the BBC was riddled with anti-government bias. Moreover, Lineker is “only a football commentator”, “not a historian “, and therefore not entitled to his opinion. The BBC’s Director General took fright and announced that Lineker would not present football programmes at the weekend. Linker’s fellow commentators and the crews that make the programmes refused to participate if Lineker was suspended. A compromise was reached and Lineker returned.

 

In general, government rhetoric is designed to promote intolerance, hostility and fear. Asylum seekers are not real refugees, but queue jumpers or bogus asylum applicants. If you disapprove of her immigration policy, the Home Secretary Suella Braverman asserts, you are unpatriotic and in favour of open borders. Or even worse you are a lefty do-gooder. Or even worse, you might eat tofu and read The Guardian. If you voted to remain in the EU in the 2016 referendum, you are a “remoaner” and doing your best to sabotage Brexit (which needs no sabotage to be a patent disaster). And, as my MP wrote to me, you are “anti-democratic” for not accepting that Brexit is a wonderful thing.

Mexico Comes to Sunninghill

 

I recently joined a small group of volunteers who are organizing events to increase the use of our public library. Yesterday we installed an exhibition called Mexico Comes to Sunninghill. On Thursday evening we are serving a Mexican supper of ceviche acapulqueño (fish in a sauce of tomato, chiles, lemon juice, olive oil, white wine, coriander and green olives); ensalada de nopales (a salad of cactus, tomato, red onion, chiles, coriander, feta cheese and a lime and olive oil dressing); ensalada de hongos y frijoles (a bean, chile and mushroom salad); guacamole; pan de elote (cornbread); and agua de jamaica (a cordial made from hibiscus flowers). I will give a short illustrated talk about Mexican history and culture.

Sunninghill Library decorated for the exhibition

 

We have decorated the library with papel picado (the Mexican equivalent of bunting) and the Mexican national flag. The main themes are:

 

·      Time and the stars: an explanation of Mesoamerican astronomy and of the two calendars (the 365-day xiuhpoalli and the 260-day tonalpualli). The former was used for planning the year’s activities and the latter for divinatory purposes. The two calendars corresponded every 52 years, a momentous event marked by the New Fire ceremony.

·      Teotihuacan: the city in the Valley of Mexico, which by the 6th century was one of the largest in the world and much bigger than any city in Europe.

Time and the Stars and Teotihuacan

 

·      Paper and books: the display includes two paintings on bark paper and pages from Indigenous books and documents.

Paper and Books

 

·      Food and drink: this focuses on the ingredients from Mesoamerican cultures still consumed in Mexico (e.g. chocolate, tomatoes, maize, the fruit of the prickly pear cactus, grasshoppers, ants’ eggs, maguey cactus larvae); the fusion of ingredients and culinary traditions from Mesoamerica, Europe and Asia to create a unique cuisine; and the history of pulque (cactus “beer”), tequila and mezcal.

Food and Drink

 

 

A particular jewel of the exhibition are the miniatures collected by Margarita Beick de Schwedhelm, the mother of my colleague Karin Sartorius. In Aztec society children underwent a ritual which Spanish friars mistook for baptism because the infants were ritually washed. Boys were given miniature bows and arrows and tiny shields. Girls received a miniaure weaver’s loom. On their homes’ altars were placed diminutive figures of domestic gods. This tradition has expanded in colonial and modern times to create tiny, exquisitely crafted, copies of domestic objects, human figures, animals and plants. With apologies for rather poor photos (my fault) these will help you to imagine these beautiful and finely crafted miniatures.

Miniatures of animals and plants

 

A miniature mule driver and fishermen

 

 

 

A miniature mariachi serenades a miniature girl

 

   

 

 

 

Household items

                          

Donations at Thursday night's event will benefit our son Chris' charity, Pasitos de Luz: www.pasitos de luz.org

Fat or enormous: does it matter?

 

I wrote about censorship on 4 September 2022, prompted by the attack on Salman Rushdie. Recent events set me thinking about this question again.

 

There has been a minor controversy here in the UK because Puffin, the publisher of  the estate of Roald Dahl had his books reviewed by a sensitivity reader. The plan was to reissue the books with changes, such as removing references to somebody being fat. Enormous, it seems is OK, but fat not. In many cases, the changes involved replacing one term with another deemed innocuous, sometimes to the point of blandness. Other changes, for example to a short rhyme in one book, lost the rhythm of the original and were definitely inferior from a literary perspective. But then a sensitivity reader’s skillset may not require literary talent. In any case, all the changes should have been a matter for editorial judgement. The sensitivity read was prompted because Netflix had bought the rights to the book from Dahl’s estate for a large sum. Evidently, contemporary Netflix standards of propriety were applied to the books to protect the new owner’s reputation.

 

I’m not quite sure that Dahl ranks as such a classic author that his work should be inviolable on those grounds. And, of course, the proposed changes are not the equivalent of the book banning promoted by conservative groups in the USA which seek to eliminate all copies of books from local libraries. There are already large numbers of copies of Dahl’s work in homes and libraries in which “fat” survives. Dahl’s work as originally published would certainly not be lost if all new printings adopted the recommendations of the sensitivity reader.

 

Certain sections of the media latched on to this story and decried the censoring of “classic” works as yet another example of “cancel culture” (a phenomenon which I suspect lives in the minds of conservative commentators as much as in the real world). The Prime Minister told journalists that he disapproved of the changes. But it seems that the person whose view prompted the publisher, Puffin, to backtrack was the Queen Consort, who decried the changes.

 

Puffin subsequently announced: “the release of The Roald Dahl Classic Collection, to keep the author’s classic texts in print. These seventeen titles will be published under the Penguin [an adult imprint] logo, as individual titles in paperback, and will be available later this year. The books will include archive material relevant to each of the stories [to make them classics editions].  

 

The Roald Dahl Classic Collection will sit alongside the newly released Puffin Roald Dahl books for young readers, which are designed for children who may be navigating written content independently for the first time. 

 

Readers will be free to choose which version of Dahl’s stories they prefer.”

 

There are many circumstances in which a book may be altered for quite sensible publishing reasons. Book covers, and sometimes book titles, are an obvious example. For instance, American publishers frequently refuse to adopt a British publisher’s cover design, and vice versa, because the preferences in both markets are entirely different. Book covers are designed to attract attention and sell a book, but they can unwittingly cause offence. I recall once negotiating a large sale of Albert Bacell’s Catalan Nationalism: Past and Present with the Catalan government. The official I dealt with seemed unconcerned about price, which made me very happy, but insisted that the book’s cover be changed. It seems that the cover of the original UK edition was unwittingly designed with the colours of an Anarchist movement, which offended Catalan nationalists. I was happy to oblige.

 

There are circumstances in which it would be perfectly sensible to edit text to avoid causing unnecessary offence. For example, a colleague once told me the story of an Oxford University Press educational book, edited and published by the Oxford office. The book included the word “spade”, which in the USA is an offensive slang term for an African American. The entire American edition had to be pulped and reprinted, replacing “spade” with “shovel”. This was certainly not an instance no “cancel culture” avant la lettre.

 

However, on my bookshelf is Conrad’s novel The Nigger of the Narcissus (the now offensive word occurs on the cover and throughout the text). Partly because Conrad is a writer of considerable literary merit, and partly because in 1897 (the date of first publication) the term was commonly used, I do not think a publisher should sanitize the title or the text for a modern audience. I would certainly approve of a note in the front matter explaining to the reader the rationale for retaining the title and not editing the text. Other publishers might take a different view, as apparently in 2009 a US publisher did: the firm issued the work under the title The N-Word of the Narcissus. What that publisher did about the occurrences of the term in the text I do not know.

 

An interesting case concerning terminology that is no longer considered appropriate is the online catalogue of the collection of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard. Before one can search the following statement pops up: “Collections records may contain language, reflecting past collecting practices and methods of analysis, that is no longer acceptable. The Peabody Museum is committed to addressing the problem of offensive and discriminatory language present in its database. Our museum staff are continually updating these records, adding to and improving content. We welcome your feedback and any questions or concerns you may want to share. Please email us with your comments.” I assume that the notice refers to items such as a DVD entitled Primitive People: Australian Aborigines or a 1910 photo of an Atorai and Negro man.

 

There are many reasons why a publisher might reconsider the use of certain terminology. This does not mean changing terminology now considered offensive without considering each case on its merits. However, there are often good reasons to adopt new terminology to avoid causing gratuitous offence. For example, I recall that when I was publisher of The Dictionary of Art from 1985-1996, we changed to terminology used to refer to many native American peoples because the tradition terms offended them. For example, one Native American people was called in the past Anasazi, but this was the term used by the Navajo to describe people who prefer to be known as Ancestral Puebloans.

 

A similar phenomenon occurred in colonial Mexico. The Spaniards encountered a large number of people who live in small polities and spoke many different languages. The Spaniards would often ask a group what they called themselves, but also to tell them the names of their neighbours. If the neighbours happened to be out of favour, a very derogatory term might be used and often it stuck. There was once, for example, a people whom the Spaniards were told to call the Cuitlatec, meaning excrement. The last individual who spoke the Cuitlatec language died in the 1940s, so the name still sticks. However, the people often referred to as Mixtec, never called themselves that in their writings: they were the Ñudzahui. Mixtec scholars tend to prefer the latter term, while generalists like me tend to use Mixtec on the grounds that it is widely used in the literature and seems not to cause offence.

 

Censorship can, of course, go in reverse. When I was a schoolboy in the 1960s, my school used a mixture of books for studying Shakespeare. Some boys had modern Bantam editions, others a very old school edition in a blue hardback binding. When we read the play aloud in class, boys with the blue edition called out every so often “That’s not in my book.”  The blue books were expurgated editions published decades earlier and made suitable for schoolboys of that time. The modern editions were unexpurgated: a sort of reverse cancel culture.

 

The press coverage of the Dahl issue reminded me of reading to my sons a Just William story, William and the Nasties, many years ago. Macmillan were the publishers of Richmal Crompton, so we had a sizeable home library of William books that I picked up in the office.

 

Crompton (1890-1969) wrote much more genteelly than Dahl. She portrayed the irrational foibles of adults and the puzzled responses of children in an engaging, amusing and elegant prose. The books are redolent of the respectable middle-class English society of their time. For example, William’s mother insists that it is quite unthinkable to invite the butcher’s boy to his birthday party. William, to his credit, fails to understand his mother’s reasons for doing so. The books portray a society which was very much alien to 1990s boys, but they are written engagingly and seemed to entertain them. Until I came across William and the Nasties, I was comfortable reding the books to my sons.

 

William and the Nasties was first published in 1934. As often happens in Crompton’s stories, William and his friends were bored and looking for something to do. After much discussion William hits upon just the thing. They could play at being Nasties and persecute the Jewish shopkeeper. It was at this point that I began to censor the story as I read, but fortunately, when William and his friends arrived at the shop to torment its owner, they found him tied up by a burglar who was busy robbing the store. The boys rescued the shopkeeper and detained the thief. I don’t know whether this story reflected sympathy for the Nazis, or was intended as a satire, but If I were the publisher reissuing Crompton’s work, I think I would quietly drop this title, although my 1930s counterpart evidently considered it perfectly acceptable.

 

In my September piece, I recalled having to consider whether I was willing to publish images of the Prophet Muhammad. I was recently alerted to a controversy about such an image by friends who specialize in Islamic art. An adjunct professor at Hamline University, in St Paul, MN, had been contracted to teach an online course on Islamic art history. One class included an important work that depicted the Prophet as part of a comparative discussion of the depiction of prophets from various faiths. The professor told her students in advance that this image would be shown and allowed them to be absent when she displayed the image and during any discussion. However, a Muslim student attended the class, saw the image, and declared herself offended. The university terminated the professor’s contract. The Hamline student newspaper described the showing of the image as an “incident of hate and discrimination." The university administration stated that showing the image was “undeniably inconsiderate, disrespectful and Islamophobic.” The Chair of the Department of Religion, however, wrote a scholarly essay explaining the incident and Islamic stances towards figural imagery, which argued that showing the image was not in the least disrespectful or Islamophobic. However, after two days the letter was removed from the newspaper’s website.

 

The image that caused the controversy at Hamline University

The affair has caused outrage in the scholarly community in the USA and overseas. A petition signed by almost 19,000 people stated that:

“This masterpiece of Persian illustrated book arts is considered an authentic, rare, and priceless work of global artistic patrimony. It is well studied and published, and professors often include its text and images in classroom discussions in order to teach Islamic history, the biography of the Prophet Muhammad, the nature of Qur’anic revelations, and religious iconography, including how notions of the prophetic and divine are represented in various religious traditions across the centuries. Some of us also show the manuscript’s paintings in our lectures in mosques, while others are tasked with displaying such paintings in museum galleries or preserving these types of paintings and manuscripts in libraries.”

 

Fundamentally, the student who objected to the principle of showing the image espouses a view of the question which reflects the thinking of a vocal section of the Muslim community. However, her view is not accepted by all Muslims. Moreover, the artwork in question was made by a Muslim and is part of the history of Islam and of Islamic art.  Thus, one sectarian group has claimed the right to determine what other students, Muslim and non-Muslim may be taught and see about Islam and its history. The controversy has prompted publishers of college art textbooks to examine their books for possible offending images. I hope that none follow the example of the ignorant and cowardly administators of Hamline University.

 

Just to emphasize the point, in the collections of the University of Edinburgh is a striking image of the Prophet on a camel riding with Christ on a donkey towards a watchtower. The illustration is from an Iranian manuscript of 1307, Chronology of Ancient Nations by the noted astronomer and polymath Abu Rayhan Al-Buruni. The work was a compendium and chronicle of a vast number of calendars and chronological systems from a variety of different cultural and religious groups from throughout the late antique and medieval periods in the Hellenic world, Central Asia and the Near East, completed in 1000. This image is an interpretation of Isaiah 21, presenting it as a prophecy of the destruction of Babylon. Apparently, the university considered whether or not it should make the image available outside its locked vaults. To its credit, the university decided to make the image freely available on the grounds that it is an indisputably important work of Islamic and human heritage.

 

Just in case readers might conclude that book and content banning is the private preserve of Islamic groups and societies, the practice is alive and flourishing in the USA. The American Library Association keeps records of books challenged in public libraries, schools and universities in the USA. Top of the list in 2021 was:

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe
Reasons: Banned, challenged, and restricted for LGBTQIA+ content, and because it was considered to have sexually explicit images.

The same author topped the lists in 2019 and 2020 with another title:

George by Alex Gino
Reasons: banned, challenged, and relocated because it was believed to encourage children to clear browser history and change their bodies using hormones, and for mentioning “dirty magazines,” describing male anatomy, “creating confusion,” and including a transgender character.

 

Five of the Top Ten in 2021 were challenged for containing LGBTQIA+ content. Other reasons for challenges included explicit sexual content, depicting sexual abuse, providing sexual education, profanity, violence, promotion of an anti-police message and indoctrination of a social agenda, use of a derogatory term, and being considered degrading to women.

 

Books challenged in earlier years (often more than once) include:

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Reasons: Banned and challenged for racial slurs and their negative effect on students, featuring a “white savior” character, and its perception of the Black experience.

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Reasons: Banned and challenged for racial slurs and racist stereotypes, and their negative effect on students.

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Reasons: banned and challenged for profanity and for “vulgarity and sexual overtones.”

The Kite Runner written by Khaled Hosseini
This critically acclaimed, multigenerational novel was challenged and banned because it includes sexual violence and was thought to “lead to terrorism” and “promote Islam.”

To Kill a Mockingbird written by Harper Lee
This Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, considered an American classic, was challenged and banned because of violence and its use of the N-word.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, by Mark Haddon
Reasons: offensive language, religious viewpoint, unsuited for age group, and other (“profanity and atheism”)

Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
Reasons: insensitivity, nudity, racism, religious viewpoint, sexually explicit.

The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
Reasons: offensive language, sexually explicit, unsuited to age group

His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
Reason: racism Reasons: political viewpoint, religious viewpoint, violence

Harry Potter, by J.K. Rowling
Reasons: occult/Satanism, violence

 

My favourite was in the 2015 list:

The Holy Bible
Reasons: religious viewpoint

 

Publishers certainly need much more alert cultural antenna than was necessary when I started in the business in 1976. Fortunately, to some extent, this is because publishers have expanded the range of material which they publish. In the 1980s St Martin’s Press, the US subsidiary of Macmillan, was a pioneer of titles for the gay market, which at the time some publishers considered a rather eccentric venture. It is surely a healthy sign that in the 21^st century censorious American zealots have a substantial number of LGBTQ+ titles to target. I doubt that the books’ publishers are much concerned: the market for these books probably considers efforts to ban them as positive recommendations. On the other hand, the fuss about the Dahl books clearly took Puffin by surprise. However, the decision to issue the books in two versions seems to me eminently sensible and may well be more profitable. The question of images of the Prophet is clearly much more complex. I see no need to gratuitously offend anybody’s religious beliefs, but a combination of sectarian zealotry and ill-informed responses is very dangerous and must be resisted.

A Brexit curiosity

The Bank of England raised base rate today to 4%. The Bank stated that "The effects of Brexit on trade are now estimated to be emerging more quickly than previously assumed, and that lowers productivity somewhat." The principal problem of the UK economy is low growth, caused in turn by low productivity. Brexit = economic harm.

While the Bank acknowledges the damage wrought by Brexit, you will not hear anybody from the governing Conservative Party acknowledge this. It is an article of Conservative faith that Brexit is a wonderful thing and has not a single negative consequence. The damage, of course, is far more than economic. Our ability to visit our European neighbours, for British musicians, dancers and actors to perform in the EU and vice versa, student exchanges, academic and research collaboration, and many other such activities, have all be irreparably harmed by Brexit.

One little detail must have escaped the vigilant anti-Europeanism of our Brexit ideologues, however. My Parish Council included in this month's Parish Magazine a leaflet encouraging local people to stand for election to the Parish Council. The leaflet notes that to be eligible to stand you must be: "A UK or Commonwealth citizen; or be a citizen of the Republic of Ireland; or be a citizen of another Member State of the European Union." You must also be at least 18years old and to meet certain residence requirements.

I will not regain the rights of which I have been deprived by Brexit before I depart this earth and my friends and family, but at least I might be governed at the local level by fellow Europeans. 

PS: A well-informed friend tells me that: "The standing and voting in local elections was part of the agreement with the EU to protect EU citizens.  Whether we have reciprocal rights depends on the member stae as rules for third party countries are set nationally."