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“The above screenshot comes from an article of The Guardian, which was linked on Twitter. If you have anything to say about trigger warnings, now is your chance. But you might want to read the article first.”

 

Wow. This is one hell of a Wicked Wednesday prompt. Where, oh where do I start?

Firstly, by saying that I don’t believe in the censorship of books. Period.

Secondly, that I’m well aware that this liberal view of mine comes at a price. There’s no question that there are grotesque things out there in written form, things that I have no interest in reading. Ever. But I know that for freedom of expression to be truly ‘free’, then we must allow writing on all subjects, whether or not they offend us. When we start drawing lines, defining what is and isn’t okay from a personal viewpoint – and, ultimately, all censorship comes down to an individual (or individuals’) own set of judgements and beliefs – we risk getting ourselves into serious trouble: persecution, marginalisation, oppression.

The beauty of freewill is that we get to choose what we read. And what we don’t. You only have to look at the various books that have been banned over the years to see just what a blunt instrument censorship is. It doesn’t understand fine detail, it doesn’t make subtle distinctions. It is wrecking ball that smashes its direct target but also tends to take out everything else within a hundred-mile literary radius.

So, then. Trigger warnings. We’ve all seen them. In fact, it’s actually becoming increasingly difficult to purchase a book without being hit in the face with one. They run the gamut.

From the very simple:

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To the incredibly detailed (A.K.A. ‘the entire book in a paragraph’):

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To the vaguely humorous:

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But if we accept that we’re not going to censor the written word, that we’re going to allow the publication of books of all kinds, regardless of whether we personally abhor or champion the content, shouldn’t we as readers expect to be explicitly warned about potentially distressing content (in the manner of the above) lest we encounter something we’re not prepared to deal with?

Well, no, actually.

Because giving a reader a pre-emptive Get Out of Feeling Free card has the ability to be more harmful than exposing them to potentially controversial content.

If we are only ever advised to read books that detail the safe and happy and benign, are warned away from texts that have the ability to shock, challenge and make us question our beliefs, our conduct – our morality – then are we not devaluing our humanity? Our ability to feel? Our ability to make our own informed choices?

The idea that reading should spare us tough or difficult emotions, that we should live in a perfect bubble where we pretend nothing bad ever happens, frankly, scares the living daylights out of me because it suggests that we could very easily become a society that doesn’t acknowledge or deal with anything difficult. An apathetic human race.

Just think about what that would look like for a second.

I’m personally guilty of using trigger warnings in my own work. Have employed them in the past to alert readers to content that I think they might not be expecting – pseudo non-consent in my short story Frostbite, for example. In writing this post, I’m actually starting to feel a little unsure as to whether I should have done so. My intention was to ‘protect’ readers who may have stumbled across my blog (and thought they were going to get something light and fluffy and ‘floral’) from an unwanted textual encounter. But in using trigger warnings, have I not made assumptions about their expectations? Censored their experience of my writing? Pushed them away and told them that I don’t believe that they’re capable of making a decision about a story’s content for themselves having read the first few lines?

The irony is that I pay little attention to trigger warnings when I’m deciding what I, personally, do and don’t want to read because I’m not prepared to rely on another person’s judgement of a text. I am my own barometer and I’m far, far more concerned with writing quality, an engaging story and an author’s ability to engage my head and my heart. My emotions.

It’s our reactions to books to books that count.

Hate.
Compassion
Distress.
Peace.
Anger.
Love.

These are normal human feelings. And we shouldn’t be warned away from them.

 

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2 thoughts on “Wicked Wednesday: Pulling the trigger

  1. Bravo! I have used a trigger warning and I have posted some pretty edgy stuff. I hope that it has made people feel something, even if it is revulsion at least I didn’t bore them. We are meant to feel shit, good and bad, and warning people… this piece of writing might make you feel something… which is basically what a trigger warning is, when you come down to it…. seems to defeat the whole object of reading and fiction completely

    Mollyxxx

    Reply
  2. I so agree with this: “The idea that reading should spare us tough or difficult emotions, that we should live in a perfect bubble where we pretend nothing bad ever happens, frankly, scares the living daylights out of me because it suggests that we could very easily become a society that doesn’t acknowledge or deal with anything difficult. An apathetic human race.”

    Said absolutely perfectly and I totally agree, I want to feel, to be challenged, I want books to make me think about myself and my beliefs. I don’t want them to have trigger warnings, because I want to decide for myself what I read and what not. So yes, I totally agree with this post. Thanks for voicing your opinion :)

    Rebel xox

    Reply

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