The debate around racism in contemporary society is undeniably complex and often fraught with tension. It seems increasingly common for works of art, literature, and media to be swiftly labeled as “racist” or “anti-racist” based on initial impressions. While the fight against racism is crucial, the recent controversy surrounding Dr. Seuss books highlights the nuances of this discussion.
As someone who has long stood against racism and holds liberal values, the decision to ban six Dr. Seuss books feels like a step too far. This action, spearheaded by Dr. Seuss Enterprises, who cited consultation with unnamed “experts” and educators, has led to libraries removing these books, including titles like “And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street,” from their shelves due to alleged racist imagery.
My own introduction to Dr. Seuss came through my children. Library visits were a weekly ritual, and Dr. Seuss books were always in our stack. The whimsical rhymes, memorable characters, and sheer fun of books like “The Cat in the Hat” and “Green Eggs and Ham” were beloved by all. Theodor Seuss Geisel, the man behind Dr. Seuss, possessed a unique creative genius, crafting rhythmic, repetitive stories perfect for young readers, filled with imaginative, cartoonish illustrations.
Driven by the recent controversy, I revisited “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street.” The narrative centers on Marco, a young boy tasked by his father to observe his walk to school on Mulberry Street and report back what he sees. Initially seeing nothing of note, Marco’s father encourages him to look harder. On subsequent days, a simple horse and cart appear, but feeling the pressure to deliver a more exciting tale, Marco’s imagination takes over.
His mundane street scene morphs into a fantastical parade. A zebra replaces the horse, then a blue elephant. The cart grows into a sled, then a float with a band of eighteen musicians. Giraffes join the elephant, and the procession culminates in a full-blown parade led by motorcycle police.
The climax of “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street” features a double-page spread depicting onlookers – the mayor, city council, children, a grandstand, and Sgt. Mulvaney leading the parade. Within this bustling scene, in a corner, Seuss included a Chinese man eating rice with chopsticks. This character, with a long braid, pointed hat, and simple lines for eyes, is the focal point of the current outcry, deemed by some as irredeemably racist.
Critics argue that this single drawing represents a stereotypical and offensive caricature of Chinese people, making the entire book unacceptable. However, examining this imagery, it feels as though these “experts” have scrutinized each page with excessive zeal, seeking offense where perhaps none was intended in the spirit of the original work. Using the same lens, one could question if the policemen represent Irish stereotypes, or if the all-male band is sexist. Where does this hyper-critical analysis end? “Mulberry Street” is fundamentally a stylized, cartoonish book, brimming with imaginative and playful characters, designed for children’s amusement.
A similar situation arises with “If I Ran a Zoo.” The story begins with a boy visiting a zoo and imagining how he would create a more extraordinary one, filled with creatures from around the globe. He envisions animals from Australia, Asia, America, and even the fictional African island of Yerka. Herein lies another point of contention. Two characters from Yerka, depicted as monkey-like figures in grass skirts and barefoot, have led to accusations of portraying black Africans as monkeys.
This pattern of finding offense in seemingly innocuous details raises a crucial question: where do we draw the line? Are we to begin censoring classic John Wayne Westerns for their stereotypical portrayals of Native Americans? Should Charlie Chan films be banned?
The trend of “cancel culture” extends beyond literature. Recently, a San Francisco school district committee proposed renaming 26 schools, deeming figures like George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Dianne Feinstein, and Francis Scott Key as unsuitable due to past actions or associations. Even Abraham Lincoln, the emancipator of slaves, was targeted.
This eagerness to erase aspects of the past deemed offensive by today’s standards feels misguided. While societal values evolve, and we learn from history, erasing or rewriting history is not the answer. What one generation finds offensive may not be viewed the same way by another. We must engage with our past, learn from it, and strive for progress, without resorting to wholesale condemnation and erasure. The controversy surrounding “And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street” serves as a potent example of the complexities and potential overreach of contemporary cultural criticism.
