While people object to books all the time - there are, apparently, cranks in the world with lots of time on their hands, as well as some controversial titles - only a few are found universally insulting enough to warrant the "Form 286" that brings it before the panel. if the panel rules against a book, it will in some cases be taken out of circulation and, in the case of Brooklyn, "tucked away in the Hunt Collection, which are kept in a vault-like room accessible only to staff members" and made available by appointment only.

If you worry that this sounds like shades of Fehrenheit 451 - or at least Banned Books Month - you're not alone: the ALA, after all, states on its site, "Policies should not unjustly exclude materials and resources even if they are offensive to the librarian or the user...Toleration is meaningless without tolerance for what some may consider detestable." But that's easier said than done, especially for those working with children's material: some public schools have rendered controversial titles to be "parent checkout book only" while one former librarian quoted in the piece claims that some of his colleagues would take such touchy titles out of circulation on vague pretexts. (Although this would be anathema, I should add, to the librarians I know, difficult as dealing with people can be.)

There are very few people who would argue that Tintin au Congo's relegation to the "Hunt Room" - especially in its original, unexpurgated form - is "unjust." By any standard, the portrayal of Africans is racist. And the truth is, a children's section should be a place of some safety. But it's a slippery slope; the article mentions that objections have been lodged to the presence of everything from Beloved to Eloise in Paris. And while obviously these complaints have been dismissed, censorship is always just that. The problem with the system is that you won't find such a book - indeed, know it exists - unless you look specifically. And a library should be about discovery, too, even if it is not always pleasant. Racism and ugliness existed, and exist, and hiding history somewhat arbitrarily is a form of white-washing. Tintin has come to people's attention because it's famous: how many other old books, as offensive, more offensive, remain on the shelves? No one thinks that this book should be where a child can stumble upon it (there's a difference between adult and kids' books) but even something so overtly ugly is an opportunity for questions, discussion, and facing the reality of cultural heritage. Maybe we have enough teachable moments in this world without needing to introduce more: but maybe that's a library's job.

A Library's Approach To Books That Offend [NY Times]

Here's the story: In 2005, FBI agents demanded that a group of Connecticut librarians on a committee of a librarian association present them with "any and all subscriber information, billing information and access logs of any person or entity". The agents didn't have a court order but something called a national security letter, designed to "protect against international terrorism" and rendering the librarians unable to reveal "to any person that the FBI has sought or obtained access to information or records." Admirably, librarians George Christian, Peter Chase, Janet Nocek and Barbara Bailey decided to fight for their patrons' privacy and challenge the constitutionality of this practice, becoming the unlikely center of an FBI investigation themselves. As Chase explains to Mother Jones, "People say very confidential things to our reference librarians...They have medical issues, personal matters. What people are borrowing at a public library is nobody's business."

About those national security letters: The MJ writers, Amy and David Goodman, describe them as "a little-known FBI tool originally used in foreign intelligence surveillance to obtain phone, financial, and electronic records without court approval." Since 9/11, they've been employed a lot — and, unsurprisingly, often abused. "An investigation last year revealed that the FBI had broken regulations governing NSLs in more than 1,000 cases... Even when an investigation is closed, information gained through an NSL is kept indefinitely in the FBI files," say the Goodmans. And because the four librarians had read the letter, they were now "a threat to national security", legally barred from appearing at the hearings or from speaking publicly, and had to be known as "John Doe" when they engaged the ACLU to challenge the NSLs and lift their gag order.

Although the Patriot Act was subsequently reauthorized, soon thereafter the Justice Department dropped the gag order case and was ordered by the Supreme Court to unseal the court documents in the case. Then, last September, a federal court ruled NSLs to be unconstitutional, calling them "the legislative equivalent of breaking and entering, with an ominous free pass to the hijacking of constitutional values." Not shockingly, the Bush administration has appealed the decision.

Everyone loves a good "little guy takes on the Man" story, and this is a great one. In combination with Ms. Baker, frankly our profession-crush on the library sciences is growing by the second. Obviously it's not all heroics, but when you consider the cultural importance of the library in our history — it's a real trust, kids. It would have been so easy to have given up records that were,for the most part, probably pretty innocuous - the fact that anyone is willing to put themselves at this kind of risk for principle makes me actually choke up a little bit. (And for the first time, kind of get the point of Banned Books Week, which always struck me at my school as kind of preaching-to-the-choir-ish.) Sexy librarians, indeed!

America's Most Dangerous Librarians [Mother Jones]
Mayor Palin: A Rough Record [Time]
Sarah Palin, Book Banner? [MediaBistro]