欧宝娱乐

One of my absolute favourite books, which I have read multiple times. A major classic. If at all possible, get an edition with the original illustrations.
___________________________________

(Expanded review based on conversation with JORDAN)

Here in Switzerland, l'affaire du mot N hasn't quite had the high profile it's received on its home territory. In fact, I'm embarrassed to admit that I hadn't even heard of it until Jordan gave me a few pointers earlier today. So, no doubt all this has been said before, but I still can't resist the temptation to add my two centimes worth.

In case you're as ignorant as I was about hot topics in the literary world, the furore concerns an edition of Huckleberry Finn in which the word 'nigger' has been systematically replaced with 'slave'. My initial response was plain surprise. One of the aspects of the book I enjoy most is Twain's appallingly exact ear for dialogue. He's reproducing the language actually used in the American South of the 1840s, and this, above all, is what gives the novel its force; so why on earth would anyone want to change it? For example, here's Huck's Paw in full flow:

"Oh, yes, this is a wonderful govment, wonderful. Why, looky here. There was a free nigger there from Ohio -- a mulatter, most as white as a white man. He had the whitest shirt on you ever see, too, and the shiniest hat; and there ain't a man in that town that's got as fine clothes as what he had; and he had a gold watch and chain, and a silver-headed cane -- the awfulest old gray-headed nabob in the State. And what do you think? They said he was a p'fessor in a college, and could talk all kinds of languages, and knowed everything. And that ain't the wust. They said he could vote when he was at home. Well, that let me out. Thinks I, what is the country a-coming to? It was 'lection day, and I was just about to go and vote myself if I warn't too drunk to get there; but when they told me there was a State in this country where they'd let that nigger vote, I drawed out. I says I'll never vote agin. Them's the very words I said; they all heard me; and the country may rot for all me -- I'll never vote agin as long as I live. And to see the cool way of that nigger -- why, he wouldn't a give me the road if I hadn't shoved him out o' the way. I says to the people, why ain't this nigger put up at auction and sold? -- that's what I want to know. And what do you reckon they said? Why, they said he couldn't be sold till he'd been in the State six months, and he hadn't been there that long yet. There, now -- that's a specimen. They call that a govment that can't sell a free nigger till he's been in the State six months. Here's a govment that calls itself a govment, and lets on to be a govment, and thinks it is a govment, and yet's got to set stock-still for six whole months before it can take a hold of a prowling, thieving, infernal, white-shirted free nigger.

I'm sorry, but I'm honestly unable to see how anyone could think the above passage was racist or might be improved by substituting 'slave' for 'nigger'. It's incidents like this which create the popular European myth that Americans don't understand the concept of irony.

If you're curious to know more about the tradition of improving great works of literature by removing dubious words, you might want to take a quick look at which Jordan and I were giggling over. Bowdler, it turns out, had acted from the best of motives. When he was young, his father had entertained him by reading aloud from Shakespeare; but

Later, Bowdler realised his father had been extemporaneously omitting or altering passages he felt unsuitable for the ears of his wife and children. Bowdler felt it would be worthwhile to present an edition which might be used in a family whose father was not a sufficiently "circumspect and judicious reader" to accomplish this expurgation himself.

He undertook to create a suitably amended version. Or, to be exact, he got his sister to do it and then gave out the books under his own name. Again, his reasons were unimpeachable: it would have reflected badly on her to admit that she had understood the naughtier passages.

I won't criticise Dr Bowdler or his equally well-meaning modern followers. I just think it's a shame Mark Twain never had the opportunity to write a story about them.