As J.M. Coetzee pointed out in Giving Offense: Essays on Censorship (1996), these constructs are held by the general population to be inviolable; no politician would challenge their importance or relevance to a society. An example of this concern about the effect of literature on children may be seen in the response to so-called ‘horror comics’ in Australia after World War II. These emanated from the United States and were thought to be a threat to Australian children’s welfare because of their depiction of violence. However, as Sara Fine has observed, ‘If we look at censorship not as a conflict of values but as a way to assert power, then censorship particularly when it comes to children, is not about their moral development; it is about the fear of losing control over them.’

Censorship is heavily influenced by cultural determinants and is indeed a shifting notion, but it essentially involves the removal of access to words or images that are perceived to be offensive.As William Albig argues, ‘censorship is a process of restraint on freedom of thought and communication imposed by the minds of individuals, by climates of opinion, and by the process of deleting or limiting the content of any of the media of communication’. Censorship may also be seen, succinctly, as an exercise in power.

Nicole Moore and Marita Bullock have carefully documented the titles of books banned in Australia from Federation. Their bibliographic listing is now available at www.austlit.edu.au. These books were deemed to be obscene, blasphemous, or seditious, the three broad categories the government, through Customs, used as criteria for banning individual items, particularly books. Since the vast majority of books in Australia until the late 1950s were published overseas, the list is of those books not permitted to circulate here. However, censorship in Australia has a much longer history. The early colonial governors, notably Darling, suppressed newspapers, and all plays had to be vetted before production. Australia thus followed the laws that the colony had inherited from Britain. The colonial authorities followed the judgment from the famous Hicklin case of 1857. This was the legal basis on which prosecution and censorship could take place. Obscenity, said Justice Cockburn, caused depravity and corruption in susceptible individuals. Leaving aside the problem of defining depravity and corruption, and determining which group in society was deemed to be susceptible, echoes of this judgment can be seen in the trial, in England, of Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1959), in which the question was asked by the prosecution, ‘would you want your wife or servant to read this book?’

In her excellent book The Censor’s Library, Nicole Moore recounts her exciting discovery of 793 boxes (filed as ‘miscellaneous’) that contained more than twelve thousand banned titles. The collection began in 1927, and new titles were added until 1988. Moore’s encyclopedic grasp of the subject has allowed her to deftly interweave the censor’s official responses to the books with their cultural importance and background to their decisions.

Moore’s examination of the role of the Post Office in seizing material and its refusal to transmit books and periodicals is worrisome. The greatest public worry, however, as discussed by Moore, is the manner in which the overarching term ‘obscenity’ was used in an overtly political manner. It must be remembered that, at the front line, seizing the books, were the Customs officials memorably described by Patricia Holt: ‘officials of the Department [Customs] whether senior or junior, were often Catholics, had little formal education, and were middle-aged to elderly’. Moore, using examples from the banned library, demonstrates how books concerning women’s health and especially contraception and abortion were targeted.

The involvement of church groups hardly needs mentioning, but what does is the argument by Deana Heath that Australian censorship régimes are ‘in large measure’ the product of the White Australia Policy. Although Moore has not found any evidence of a specific directive in this regard, there was anxiety in the European population about the future of the white man in Australia. The worldwide influence of eugenics, especially regarding indigenous populations, was of particular concern in Australia, where Aborigines were thought to be on the path to inevitable extinction.

The other standout chapter in the book involves the discussion of imported titles with homosexual characters or descriptions of same-sex acts. These titles seemed to be particularly problematic for the authorities. Homosexuality was illegal in Australia during the period discussed in the book, and was seen as a perversion and a diseased state with a trope of ‘infection’. There was great concern that those who were uncertain about their sexuality could be influenced by exposure to such material. This attitude was reinforced in a paper written by the poet Kenneth Slessor, who joined the Commonwealth Literature Censorship Board in 1965.

These are only two chapters in what is an extraordinarily comprehensive work. Other chapters deal with political censorship, and there is a good review of the ‘Ern Malley’ affair and the treatment of Frank Hardy. The self-imposed exile of Robert Close for twenty-five years after his jailing for the publication of Love Me Sailor (1945) reminds us of the drastic consequences for some authors. Close’s was a special case, but his experience demonstrates the effect censorship has on authors. Once an author’s work is no longer circulated it is easily forgotten, and without income no further publication may be possible.

While the government of Gough Whitlam may have been responsible for the final abolition of book censorship in Australia, there is still concern in the community about the availability of violent visual material and its role in real life. Many would like to see censorship in this area akin to the classification of film and video. Violence has also been a component of the terrorist manual, and Moore discusses the circumstances of eight books seized from an Islamic bookshop in 2002. The then Attorney-General Philip Ruddock attempted to have the books banned. Six were released; two remain banned, though they are available on the Internet. Ruddock’s actions suggest that the community feeling for censorship is again firm and that we can expect further pressure in the future, especially from those groups previously marginalised or powerless, such as Bravehearts, led by Hetty Johnston, who featured so prominently during the Bill Henson saga.

At the entrance to the British Library there is an impressive display of bookbindings from the royal collection. Such a prominent exhibition of Nicole Moore’s discoveries would be fitting in our own National Library. Not only is this collection of the banned books unique, it also contains many valuable items. For example, the first edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses would currently fetch more than $50,000. More importantly, it would serve as a permanent reminder of what was done on our behalf in the past, what we were denied, and the consequent cultural impoverishment of our society.

CONTENTS: MAY 2012