Out of Time

As if he were penning a new novel, Pat Conroy weaved violence, humor, praise and outrage against “book banners” into a letter that slams the suspension of two of his books at Nitro High School.

In a letter to the editor of The Charleston Gazette, Conroy mostly praised English teachers and area students. Still, he blasts the Kanawha County school board, saying members shamed themselves and their community for removing “Beach Music” and “The Prince of Tides” from a high school English class.

For now, the books are suspended from Nitro High while a committee of professionals and Nitro-area residents considers whether they are appropriate for high school students.

At least two parents wrote formal protests, asking that the books not be considered proper material for upper-level English/literature classes at Nitro. Parents Karen Frazier and Ken and Leona Tyree also have publicly decried graphic scenes of child rape, violence, sexual assault, mutilation and other themes in the two novels.

Parents and others in the community joined Frazier and the Tyrees. Some want reading alternatives, disclaimers and a book rating system.

In his letter, Conroy wrote of his novels, “They contain scenes of violence, but I was the son of a Marine Corps fighter pilot who killed hundreds of men in Korea, beat my mother and his seven kids whenever he felt like it, and fought in three wars.

“My youngest brother, Tom, committed suicide by jumping off a fourteen-story building; my French teacher ended her life with a pistol; my aunt was brutally raped in Atlanta,” he wrote. “Violence has always been a part of my world. I write about it in my books and make no apology to anyone.”

Conroy e-mailed the letter to Makenzie Hatfield, a George Washington High School senior who teamed with her classmates and Nitro students to form a coalition against censorship.

“I heard rumors of this controversy as I was completing my latest filthy, vomit-inducing work,” Conroy wrote, tongue in cheek. “These controversies are so commonplace in my life that I no longer get involved.

“But my knowledge of mountain lore is strong enough to know the dangers of refusing to help a Hatfield of West Virginia. I also do not mess with McCoys.”

Although the letter was addressed to the Gazette, Conroy sent a copy only to Hatfield. He had not responded to a request for comment sent by the newspaper earlier this month to his literary agency, Marly Rusoff & Associates.

Hatfield said she e-mailed Conroy Thursday. She received a response during the weekend, when she was informed he would be sending a letter shortly.

“For me as a student, just to have Pat Conroy write you a letter, no words … can express it,” she said. “And for a generation our parents thought was apathetic, we’re pretty proud of ourselves.”

Hatfield and about 57 other Advanced Placement literature students at George Washington teamed up with 39 students in the same class at Nitro, where “The Prince of Tides” was banned.

Justin Fletcher, who first organized a student protest at Nitro, said he read Conroy’s letter aloud to classmates on Tuesday.

“It shows that it’s drawing attention everywhere,” he said. “Everybody seemed pretty excited Pat Conroy wrote a letter … to help out our cause.”

Conroy spends much of the letter praising English teachers. He conjures memories of his teacher Eugene Norris, who had introduced him to the seminal J.D. Salinger work, “The Catcher in the Rye.”

Norris also had to defend that book to his local school board, Conroy wrote.

“Few in the world have ever loved English teachers as I have, and I loathe it when they are bullied by know-nothing parents or cowardly school boards,” he wrote.

Conroy also mentions Nitro teacher Steve Shamblin, who taught from “Beach Music” and “The Prince of Tides” in his honors English and AP literature classes before the suspension.

“I’m perfectly sure that Steve Shamblin and other teachers prepared their students well for any encounters with violence or profanity in my books just as Gene Norris prepared me for the profane language in ‘Catcher in the Rye’ forty-eight years ago,” he wrote.

Shamblin says Conroy’s approach to the letter did not surprise him.

“He never defends his work outright,” he said. “He comes at it in defense of the teacher.”

Conroy saved most of his criticism for the Kanawha County school board, writing that they’ve “entered the ranks of censors, book-banners, and teacher-haters, and the word will spread.”

“Good teachers will avoid you as though you had cholera. But here is my favorite thing: Because you banned my books, every kid in that county will read them, every single one of them,” Conroy wrote. “Because book banners are invariably idiots, they don’t know how the world works — but writers and English teachers do.”

Board member Becky Jordon has largely defended teachers’ right to teach from controversial books. Her daughters have read Conroy’s books before.

“He needs to know [at least] one of them is supporting him,” Jordon said.

She favors a new policy that allows alternative books but does not bog down teachers and students in a lengthy suspension and review process.

“I just think, respect the parents who complain, … but don’t do this to everyone,” she said.

Board member Bill Raglin was not sympathetic.

“That fool, Conroy, assumes … that every person who is an English major [or teacher] is above reproach,” Raglin said. “I’m a chemist. Do I believe that all chemists are good? No.

“Maybe I should go back to school and change my major.”

He favors a book rating system or disclaimers on controversial books.

“I don’t object to anything Conroy says,” Raglin said. “I just want to give the parents who don’t want to be bothered with him the right to not be bothered with him.”

Raglin added that while he recognizes the College Board approved Shamblin’s use of “The Prince of Tides” for his class, the College Board does not necessarily recommend any of Conroy’s works. The New York-based College Board, which also administers the SAT exam, oversees curriculum for advanced placement classes.

In 1961, I entered the classroom of the great Eugene Norris, who set about in a thousand ways to change my life. It was the year I read “Catcher in the Rye,” under Gene’s careful tutelage, and I adore that book to this very day. Later, a parent complained to the school board, and Gene Norris was called before the board to defend his teaching of this book. He asked me to write an essay describing the book’s galvanic effect on me, which I did. But Gene’s defense of “Catcher in the Rye” was so brilliant and convincing in its sheer power that it carried the day. I stayed close to Gene Norris till the day he died. I delivered a eulogy at his memorial service and was one of the executors of his will. Few in the world have ever loved English teachers as I have, and I loathe it when they are bullied by know-nothing parents or cowardly school boards.

About the novels your county just censored: “The Prince of Tides” and “Beach Music” are two of my darlings, which I would place before the altar of God and say, “Lord, this is how I found the world you made.” They contain scenes of violence, but I was the son of a Marine Corps fighter pilot who killed hundreds of men in Korea, beat my mother and his seven kids whenever he felt like it, and fought in three wars. My youngest brother, Tom, committed suicide by jumping off a fourteen-story building; my French teacher ended her life with a pistol; my aunt was brutally raped in Atlanta; eight of my classmates at The Citadel were killed in Vietnam; and my best friend was killed in a car wreck in Mississippi last summer. Violence has always been a part of my world. I write about it in my books and make no apology to anyone. In “Beach Music,” I wrote about the Holocaust and lack the literary powers to make that historical event anything other than grotesque.

People cuss in my books. People cuss in my real life. I cuss, especially at Citadel basketball games. I’m perfectly sure that Steve Shamblin and other teachers prepared their students well for any encounters with violence or profanity in my books just as Gene Norris prepared me for the profane language in “Catcher in the Rye” forty-eight years ago.

The world of literature has everything in it, and it refuses to leave anything out. I have read like a man on fire my whole life because the genius of English teachers touched me with the dazzling beauty of language. Because of them I rode with Don Quixote and danced with Anna Karenina at a ball in St. Petersburg and lassoed a steer in “Lonesome Dove” and had nightmares about slavery in “Beloved” and walked the streets of Dublin in “Ulysses” and made up a hundred stories in the Arabian nights and saw my mother killed by a baseball in “A Prayer for Owen Meany.” I’ve been in ten thousand cities and have introduced myself to a hundred thousand strangers in my exuberant reading career, all because I listened to my fabulous English teachers and soaked up every single thing those magnificent men and women had to give. I cherish and praise them and thank them for finding me when I was a boy and presenting me with the precious gift of the English language.

The school board of Charleston, West Virginia, has sullied that gift and shamed themselves and their community. You’ve now entered the ranks of censors, book-banners, and teacher-haters, and the word will spread. Good teachers will avoid you as though you had cholera. But here is my favorite thing: Because you banned my books, every kid in that county will read them, every single one of them. Because book banners are invariably idiots, they don’t know how the world works — but writers and English teachers do.

I salute the English teachers of Charleston, West Virginia, and send my affection to their students. West Virginians, you’ve just done what history warned you against — you’ve riled a Hatfield.

Sincerely,