Editorial Issue 6: Roald Dahl and How To Reconcile Modern Values With Ageing Books

Courtesy of Erik B. Anderson

Earlier this year Penguin Random House’s children's subsidiary Puffin hired ‘sensitivity readers’ to review popular children's author Roald Dahl's numerous books. Dahl's work includes famous titles such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach, both of which were about to be rewritten with the agreement of the Dahl estate in order to ensure they “can continue to be enjoyed by all today”. The words “fat” and “ugly” have been removed from every new edition of Dahl’s work. Instead of “fat”, Augustus Gloop in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is “enormous”. The rewrite also took steps to be more inclusive of society's current perception of gender. Where Mrs. Trunchbull in Matilda was once described as a “most formidable female”, she is now a “most formidable woman”. 

Public reaction to the announcement was mostly negative. At an event for the second anniversary of her reading charity, the Queen Consort Camilla asked authors “to remain true to your calling, unimpeded by those who may wish to curb the freedom of your expression or your imagination”, which many interpreted as a soft condemnation of the rewriting. Famous author Salman Rushdie tweeted “Roald Dahl was no angel but this is absurd censorship. Puffin Books and the Dahl estate should be ashamed”. 

As a result of the outcry, Puffin announced that they would keep the “Roald Dahl Classic Collection” to keep his original work in circulation alongside the newly rewritten version. While Puffin’s decision to not totally censor Dahl’s work is welcome news, the rewriting of culturally significant texts is a concerning development.

Whilst Dahl’s views may stand in contrast to our values in the modern world, this does not entitle any individual or corporation to posthumously edit an author's work without their consent. Dahl famously opposed posthumous changes to his characters, and to do so now denies his right to have his work unadulterated against his will. Furthermore, Dahl’s work was carefully crafted, designed, and even edited, in the author's image. To remove his language, and descriptive turn of phrase as part of a wave of morality policing, is dramatically close to cultural censorship. By sanctioning this process in any form, even if the original works remain commercially available, dangerously curbs artistic expression. They were his creations, his designs. Whilst Dahl may be deceased, and therefore unable to voice his opinion on this issue, his right to his voice is no less important, in particular as it continues to live on through his beloved characters. 

This approach does not create fruitful conversations and dialogue around how literature and culture overall should reflect our ever-changing society. Even when well-intentioned, it risks sanitizing the author, preventing us from holding them accountable when reading their texts. 

Aside from the fact that numerous changes were poorly written, the proposed changes are also inconsistent. Puffin removed references to authors Joseph Conrad and Rudyard Kipling (colonial-era writers that have been criticized for their racist literature) in Matilda, but still retained references to Ernest Hemingway game hunting in Africa. These inconsistencies may well be attributed to Netflix acquiring Roald Dahl’s estate, and wanting to sanitize his work to appeal to a wider audience for the purposes of adaptation. This sets a dangerous precedent where publishing companies are incentivized to rewrite dated work in order to make it marketable. 

The elimination of words like “fat” and “ugly” is a futile attempt to deconstruct the negative association that exists with them. Censoring them from literature won’t stop children from using them in a hurtful context. These rewrites are an attempt to create a sanitised world for his audience, one without the potential for pain or emotional strife.  

When we think of a book as being a ‘classic’ we run the risk of confusing it as being indispensable. This is definitely not the case. As social norms and attitudes have shifted, so have the books we give to children. Even if it was the case that the content struck from Roald Dahl's work was offensive, inappropriate, or otherwise unsuitable for his readers, rewriting an author's work is not the best way to handle these objections.

The alternative is obvious: read a different book. For centuries, people, reflecting a change in social values, have employed this exact strategy. The Story of Little Black Sambo was published in 1899 and was popular in the English speaking world until the mid-twentieth century. Its use of slurs and racist imagery led to a steep decline in its popularity as overt racism became less socially acceptable. However, legitimate concerns about bigotry are not the only reason that certain literary works fall in and out of popularity; sometimes they’re just boring to newer audiences and no longer serve their original purpose. Take the work of Dr. Seuss as an example. Books like How The Grinch Stole Christmas and Green Eggs and Ham are considered classics today, but their inspiration came from the weaning efficacy of the classics they replaced. In 1954, Life Magazine published a report which argued that children weren’t learning how to read because they found the books made for that purpose to be boring. Read With Dick and Jane is one such series. It enjoyed widespread popularity for decades, with an estimated 80% of first grade students using them to learn how to read in the 1950s. The tides turned against the series which began to be seen as boring, repetitive, and unimaginative and was last printed in 1965. 

The books we read and pass down to younger generations are not set in stone, and nor should they be. The beauty of choice is that it allows us to adapt to a changing world without chipping away at the historical record. Rewriting Dahl’s work is an unnecessary remedy and an affront to the sovereignty of a historically significant author.

Editorial Contributors: Aidan Dennehy, Tricia Teo, and Josh Schonegevel