By now you've heard about a new edition of Mark Twain's "Huckleberry Finn" being published without a certain offensive word. The book is out of copyright, so anyone can do anything they want to it, and some think it's a good idea to reissue the classic without words some wouldn't want to use in the presence of others. The RedBlueAmerica columnists weighed in on Monday's editorial page, with differing opinions: that it should be available only in college or that it should be taught early and often.

I read "Huck Finn" in my 11th grade honors English class and loved it. There was plenty of discussion in my class about whether it was appropriate to read despite the language used. I felt the same then as I do now: The book is more than appropriate to teach to high-schoolers. I even wrote a paper on it (titled "To all baselessly intolerant of fine literature: Huck you") about how it was a great book despite the repeated use of a word I can't stand.

As many people much smarter than I have already stated, Twain's work is a well-written classic that depicts the state of the country at the time he wrote it. High school classes should teach more than readin', writin' and 'rithmetic. It's so important for young minds to learn about history and society, and how things have changed (for better or for worse). I understand that some parents might not feel it's appropriate for their children to read that kind of language, but that doesn't give them the right to censor the material for other people's children. Actually, having a version of the book without the offending word is probably a great way for high schools to teach Mark Twain to the students, who could have the option of reading it however their parents feel it's appropriate.

It's great when books are out of copyright and can be modified in creative ways (like "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies"), and I think this should be looked at as an opportunity for "Huckleberry Finn" to reach more people who otherwise would not have picked up the great American novel.


-- Cheryl Sadler
CSadler@News-Herald.com

1. As you probably know, Oprah Winfrey picked Jonathan Franzen’s Freedom for her book club.

I guess this is a big deal if you’re Franzen or Oprah or a follower of Oprah. Personally, I like The Onion’s take.

And, yes, Jennifer Weiner has noted this on her Twitter page.

“Obvs it would be great if Oprah introduced a great debut lady writer who’s gotten no press. But if that won’t happen...”

Then, in response to another comment, she added, “Oprah hasn’t picked a female author for her book club since Toni Morrison in 2002. Why? No clue.”

Weiner has since proposed her own book club that she will run through Twitter.

Whether I agree with Weiner’s opinions or not, I think an author-run book club is a cool idea. This way, she can help raise the profiles of deserving authors instead of debating media outlets that are unlikely to change.

2. Kanye West asks, “What if Mark Twain had a Twitter? His quotes trump Warhol’s.”

This from the same mind that brought us, “You basically can say anything to someone on an email or text as long as you put LOL at the end” and “Man... whatever happened to my antique fish tank?”

But Kanye’s right. Twain’s quotes were Twitter-ready decades before mini-blogging.

Want proof? Here's a feed filled with Twain, and it's awesome. (Somebody needs to start an Oscar Wilde feed.)

3. Speaking of Twitter, Alison Hallett assesses the value of art criticism in a single tweet. (Hallett, by the way, is the Portland Mercury Arts Editor.)

4. And now for something that has nothing to do with Twitter...

Nitsuh Abebe explains why you don’t want to date a writer.

(Example #8: Writers are really passionate. About writing. Not necessarily about you. Are you writing?)

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

Thomas Sowell said there were only two ways to tell the truth, anonymously or posthumously.

Never one for anonymity, Mark Twain chose the latter.

When Twain died he left behind a 5,000-page, unedited autobiography and a note saying it was not to be published for at least a century after his death.

Twain died in 1910. That means the seventh seal will be cracking soon. The first volume of an eventual trilogy will be released by the University of California, Berkeley, where the grail is vaulted.

I will be reading this autobiography, all of it. My self-inflicted limit on book length be damned.

Twain was known for his candor in life. Can you imagine what thoughts he needed to let stew for a century before they could be served?

While the salacious details of his relationship with former secretary Isabel Van Kleek Lyon may interest others, I just want to read about Twain being Twain. I want to know what quips, tidbits and quotable blog fodder he ensconced in this autobiography.

On an unrelated note, Stephen Fry will judge the Guardian Hay festival’s Twitter competition.

While I still have some misgivings toward Twitter (how it’s used, not the platform itself), I think a Twitter competition is positively democratic.

In the words of festival director Peter Florence, “It’s a little jolly and a leveller. We can all write tweets but not all of us can write poems or novels.”

Nominations for the most beautiful tweet must be posted @hayfestival. The winner will be announced June 6.

I will be nominating something from @FEMINISTHULK.

Finally, Christopher Hitchens answers the Proust Questionnaire.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com

I gave Nicholas Sparks a hard time for criticizing Cormac McMarthy, but author-vs.-author smackdowns are nothing new.

Michelle Kerns, The Book Examiner, was kind enough to compile 50 of the best authorial insults. Here are some of my favorites.

Ernest Hemingway, according to Vladimir Navokov:
As to Hemingway, I read him for the first time in the early ‘forties, something about bells, balls and bulls, and loathed it.

Bells, Balls and Bulls would be an excellent name for an unauthorized Hemingway biography (or, at least, a Hemingway blog.)

William Faulkner, according to Ernest Hemingway:
Have you ever heard of anyone who drank while he worked? You’re thinking of Faulkner. He does sometimes — and I can tell right in the middle of a page when he’s had his first one.

Yeah, Hemingway’s one to talk. He wrote with a pencil in one hand and a drink in the other. In fact, new game — read a Hemingway story and try to guess when he passed out on the page.

Voltaire, according to Charles Baudelaire:
I grow bored in France — and the main reason is that everybody here resembles Voltaire...the king of nincompoops, the prince of the superficial, the anti-artist, the spokesman of janitresses, the Father Gigone of the editors of Siecle.

Baudelaire took the Joakim Noah route and didn’t just diss the man. He dissed the locale. (Personally, I thought Voltaire was clever when I read him in college. Now, I realize how worthless cleverness is.)

John Updike, according to Gore Vidal:
I can’t stand him. Nobody will think to ask because I’m supposedly jealous; but I out-sell him. I’m more popular than he is, and I don’t take him very seriously...oh, he comes on like the worker’s son, like a modern-day D.H. Lawrence, but he’s just another boring little middle-class boy hustling his way to the top if he can do it.

See, Gore, this is why nobody likes you.

Bret Harte, according to Mark Twain:
Harte is a liar, a thief, a swindler, a snob, a sot, a sponge, a coward, a Jeremy Diddler, he is brim full of treachery, and he conceals his Jewish birth as carefully as if he considered it a disgrace. How do I know? By the best of all evidence, personal observation.

I am disappointed that Bret Hart never tried to avenge his namesake. Hart v. Twain — the sharpshooter v. the sharp wit — I’d drop $30 on a pay-per-view to watch.

As a final stray link, enjoy some passive-aggressive library signs.

-Jason Lea, JLea@News-Herald.com