“Let’s move on to more pleasant topics. How was your week?” she asked, nonchalantly balancing a huge bowl of popcorn on her lap. We had spent several minutes discussing the order in which we should watch the films she had lent us.
‘Slow,’ I replied, still wary of the peace we had established a few minutes ago after an endless battle over which film to watch tonight. The only notable event from our meeting was the one for the queer library. We finally had time to go through all the book donations, sorting them and weeding out any problematic ones.
‘Problematic ones?’
‚Yeah. Novels or films that haven’t aged well. For example, we had a few lesbian romances written by straight women that featured harmful stereotypes. That didn’t really surprise us, given that the work was published in the early ’90s, but still… I wouldn’t recommend anyone read it in their free time.“
As I began to give a few more examples, my girlfriend’s expression grew increasingly gloomy. In the end, she cut me off: ‚Wait, hold on… You mean you’re censoring your library?!‘
It took a few seconds for her words to register. ‘Uhm, no. What on earth made you think that?!‘
‘Well, you’re withdrawing content from your readers.’
While she was still horrified, I was just confused. ‘We’re not withdrawing content from our readers. We’ve removed harmful work that was queerphobic, or that was written by non-queer people for non-queer people who had very strange ideas about queer people. These works would be of no value to our readers, unless they were studying literature and writing an academic paper…”
‚But whether or not the content is anti-queer is something people have to decide for themselves.‘
‚Yes and no?‘ We also have queer children and young people among our readers, and they might not be in a position to judge that yet. Besides, why should anti-queer books be made available in a queer space that’s supposed to be a safe space?‘
The discussion continued, but I couldn’t convince her. Frustrated, I changed the subject to salvage the ruined atmosphere of the evening. Days later, I was still mulling over the conversation. Why on earth did she accuse us of censoring books? After all, defamation, insults, and incitement to hatred are offences under the German Criminal Code, not to mention the European Digital Services Act and the Code of Conduct+. Surely the Criminal Code applied to libraries as well, at the very least?
In a rather grumpy mood, I began my research, spending the first few minutes simply googling random words. Eventually, a specific question took shape in my mind: What is censorship?Fortunately, Germany has this government education portal that has saved my neck on more than one occasion. It has done so again, as I discovered here. From that short article, I learnt the following:
Censorship is the deliberate editing, alteration or omission of information necessary for the general public. This definition primarily applies to states and their citizens. Incidentally, German laws that prohibit insulting or defaming others, or inciting hatred, do not constitute a restriction of freedom of expression. If such content is reported and removed, this is an act of civic courage, not censorship. The reasons for this are hopefully logical. For German media outlets, this means neither publishers nor private individuals need to seek permission from the state to publish specific pieces. However, they may face criminal prosecution if they insult individuals, spread misinformation, or incite hatred against other groups. It is, however, perfectly permissible to strongly criticise those who publish such content if one holds a different opinion.
So far, so good, but what did this mean for my voluntary work?
The library I helped to run belonged to a registered association, so it was not a state body and could not exercise legal censorship. Even if we chose not to include certain books in our collection because we did not share their values, people could still borrow them from other libraries or buy them in bookshops, provided they were not illegal. That said, we only screened out books in advance that were at least partly illegal. In short, we weren’t censoring; we were curating.
It’s just like any other bookshop or library. We also had to consider what our customers might like, what would fit within our budget and where there were gaps in our range. This method does have its weaknesses, but we haven’t yet come up with a better solution. However, we have improved our model over the years! For example:
Trigger warnings! Yes, trigger warnings remain a contentious issue to this day. There are now plenty of studies showing that these warnings do not prevent those affected from being triggered. Nevertheless, some people in the community would still prefer to know what they’re getting into when reading. This is understandable to a certain extent. We have therefore decided to use content warnings, but only when dealing with truly difficult topics. We cannot retroactively add content warnings to all 800+ books, but we have made it standard practice for new additions. Among other things, we have put up a notice reminding people to let us know if they feel certain books deserve a Post-it note listing the topics covered in the book. Fortunately, more and more indie authors are also turning to content warnings, and they are appearing more frequently on publishers‘ websites, too. I recommend the following website to everyone: Does the dog die?
But what about all the GREY areas? I’m glad you asked, because we’ve covered that too, and I think we did a good job of exploring every possible shade of grey.
For example, there’s a big difference between depicting queerphobia and writing a queerphobic story. The former would receive a content warning from us, depending on how explicit the anti-LGBTQ+ content is, while the latter would be moved to our dedicated section.
Another example would be books about the darker sides of queer life, or novels featuring queer characters who behave badly, just as real-life queer people sometimes do. Both have the right to exist in our library; anything else would indeed be biased, because queer people are like every other human being: messy, complicated and sometimes just not great. The same goes for ‚the queer life‘: wherever people come together, there is drama, and one is often exposed to prejudice or discriminatory structures. Withholding these analyses and perspectives from others would be biased and would not help solve these problems.
Regarding the planned special section, this will include all books that were historically significant for the queer community, but which have not stood the test of time. Topics can range from outdated discussions about gender and sexual stereotypes to many others. Currently, however, we lack the space and a catchy name for the category.
A right that we had to fight for for much longer was the right to an 18+ library. Whenever we raised the issue, we were met with various excuses as to why this would not be possible. Some arguments were sound and fair; others were simply driven by personal opinion. Undeterred by the hollow outrage of some staff members, we methodically worked through the requirements of the Youth Protection Officer, and, sure enough, our 18+ library was finally approved. It was housed in a separate, lockable cupboard. The key could only be obtained if there were no minors in the building and an age check had been carried out beforehand. The date of birth was particularly important here rather than the name. Even then, many questions remained, such as: where does ‚pornography‘ begin and where does erotic/romantic literature end?
If we were to place educational books with an instructional approach in the 18+ section, where would we draw the line? The same applies to guides explaining how sounding or choking worked to readers. Honestly, the line is sometimes really blurry, especially with some guides. We didn’t really know what to do with them. Some went into the library, but others were very detailed, so we put them into the +18 section for the protection of minors and because some kinks are very niche and not suitable for beginners. Such topics shouldn’t be left lying around randomly in a community centre. We’re aware that youngsters can easily access the most extreme pornography online, but that is their responsibility, not ours.
Another question that suddenly arose was: who counts as kinky, and who doesn’t? Which literature should belong in this 18+ library? Should it include books featuring only queer people or heterosexuals as well? At first glance, the answer seems simple: queer things belong to queer people. Full stop. However, the history of BDSM and kink is a little more complicated. So what should we do with heterosexual people who aren’t intersex, transgender, aromantic or asexual? They aren’t queer, yet they engage in queer sexual practices and often follow alternative relationship models such as polyamory or relationship anarchy.
Consequently, one could argue that straight people aren’t as straight as queer people would like them to be. Furthermore, BDSM was classified as a mental disorder in the DSM and ICD until 2013 and 2019 respectively. Germany has not yet approved the ICD-11, which distinguishes between consensual paraphilias (including BDSM) and compulsive sadomasochism or sadism. Consequently, all kinky people continue to be regarded as ‚mentally ill‘, regardless of their sexuality, gender, or relationship status. In the European context, there is a further historical argument to consider. During the 1930s and 1940s, people who did not conform to social norms were often branded with an inverted black triangle and deported to the nearest concentration camp. This group included sex workers, who have always been paid to engage in sexual practices with clients that fell outside the norm. Nevertheless, times change. They became more progressive, but are unfortunately becoming more regressive again. However, our library remains for and by queers, which is why we continue to support queer authors who write queer erotica (with a few exceptions).
Incidentally, there was also a very small but vocal group who feared that we would become the city’s Pornhub, but that won’t ever happen. There is far too little tasteful queer erotica available in printed form. Many are either out of print, sold out, or unavailable through German bookshops, so books that can actually be ordered are few and far between. The difficulty level increases as soon as you want a nuanced portrayal of BDSM or to read in a language other than English. So far, our lifeline has been independent authors whose work we purchase if we have any funds remaining at the end of the year. Donations would certainly be welcome, but these authors usually have even less money than the centre and certainly deserve and need it. Furthermore, most of them include content notes on a voluntary basis, which for us means: Less work and more fun time!