With one sterling exception, I never much cared for Roald Dahl’s stuff growing up.
The children’s books were, for me, twee and their supposed gruesomeness tame.
I much preferred reading a certain kind of second world war novel which you found in certain cardboard boxes at certain stalls in Birmingham’s rag market.
(And these were a lot worse than anything written by Dahl.)
The one sterling exception was not any of Dahl’s children’s books, but a television programme – the theme tune of which still mildly disconcerts even today.
Tales of the Unexpected was a wonder.
Not all the tales were Dahl’s – but every short episode was tightly scripted, wonderfully acted by star actors, and nicely plotted.
They were the televisual truth of Pascal’s old adage that he was was writing something long, because he did not have enough time to write it short.
Along with Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone, they were examples of what you could repeatedly achieve with short-form drama on television, if you put your mind to it.
And, of course, as the title of the programme averred, there were twists.
Sometimes you could see the twist coming, and you could feel smug when other viewers fell for stereotypes and knee-jerk reactions.
But the twists were usually satisfying, all the same.
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Now we come to this week’s news, about the “censorship” of Dahl’s children’s books.
Like the early scenes of an episode of Tales of Unexpected, we have been led to believe a thing has happened.
We have then been encouraged to let our fears race, and to worry about outcomes and possible implications.
And in this excitement we have been helped along by glamorous celebrities playing their roles, whom you instinctively trust.
Earnest authors and pundits have appeared on our television screens to tell us of the “woke” menace.
Commentators pitched for and filed their 800 or 1,100 word articles about the terror of the censors – articles which pretty much all wrote themselves.
You can understand why so many of us hid behind our metaphorical sofas.
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And then the twist.
There was never any censorship, all along.
All that happened is that a capitalistic publisher, presumably with the consent of the Dahl estate, issued alternate versions of certain texts so as to generate purchases which otherwise may not have been made.
None of the original texts are out of print.
None of the original texts were going to go out of print.
This was just an attempt by a publisher to appeal to an additional audience, who may not care for the original texts.
There was no censor, no censure, no clamour.
The alarmed audience for this short drama have been misled.
So the moral for this tale is that never get carried away with a panic, even – perhaps especially – when it is an author you once enjoyed (or think you enjoyed) reading yourself.
And now…
…the closing credits for this blogpost:
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