Banned Authors & More

As the tide of book banning around the country continues to rise, Narrative remains committed to our mission of advancing reading and writing across communities and generations, in schools, and around the globe. Our Library is and will always be free for all readers, and includes the work of these authors, whose art has in one way or another been censored. We invite you to spend some time with their stories, and to celebrate the gifts of their imaginations.

Margaret Atwood
Margaret Atwood Words and Music
If you’re not having fun, there isn’t a big impetus to stay alive.
Tom Jenks
A Workshop on James Baldwin’s “Sonny’s Blues”
James Baldwin’s brilliant story is brought to life by Tom Jenks.
Various Authors
We’ve Been Here Before: Stories in a Time of Plague
Boccaccio’s Decameron, abridged version, and more.
T. C. Boyle
All the Wrecks I’ve Crawled Out Of
All I wanted, really, was to attain mythic status.
Joseph Brodsky
December 24, 1971
Reek of vodka and resin and cod, mandarins, cinnamon, apples.
Octavia Butler
Kindred
If I was to live, he must live. I didn’t dare test the paradox.
Geoffrey Chaucer
The Canterbury Tales
Pilgrimes were they alle, toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.
Kate Chopin
The Awakening
For the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air.
Lucille Clifton
The Book of Light
the girl slips into sleep. her dream is red and raging.
Stephen Crane
The Blue Hotel
Every sin is the result of a collaboration.
Mahmoud Darwish
Two Poems
I think: Is he the mirror I see myself in?
Junot Díaz
Junot Díaz
Speaking, during those early years, was a punishment.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Four Fists
He realized the inconvenience of being passionately detested.
E. M. Forster
Howards End
Henry had saved it; without fine feelings or deep insight.
John Gardner
Redemption
Jack Hawthorne ran over and killed his brother, David.
Nikki Giovanni
Legacies
she wiped her hands saying “lord these children”
David Guterson
Krassavitseh
They were such dummkopfs they kicked out the Jews.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
The Ambitious Guest
They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one.
Zora Neale Hurston
John Redding Goes to Sea
Let me go mamma, please. What is there here for me?
Henry James
The Lesson of the Master
Kids interfere with perfection. Wives interfere. Marriage interferes.
James Joyce
Araby
Her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.
D. H. Lawrence
The Horse Dealer’s Daughter
They had talked at her for so long, that she hardly heard them at all.
Jack London
The Transcontinental
Thanksgiving found him with his black suit in pawn.
Federico García Lorca
Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint
Don’t let me lose the wonder of your eyes, unblinking.
Naomi Shihab Nye
My Mom Serves Tea to Her Robbers
She remained lucid, except for this frolic, this boisterous tête-à-tête.
Edna O’Brien
Country Girl: A Memoir
This time, I would not endorse the check over to him.
George Orwell
Shooting an Elephant
I had already made up my mind that imperialism was an evil thing.
Julie Otsuka
Narrative 10
For lasting love, I’ve always relied on the friendship of women.
Benjamin Alire Sáenz
What You Get
There’s nothing like a flood in the desert.
Upton Sinclair
Wise as Serpents
All his life he had been learning how to handle the rich and powerful.
Jane Smiley
Pageantry, Intrigue, Contemplation, Mystery
I gave myself what one man I know calls “the luxury of idle thinking.”
William Styron
A Tidewater Morning
For an instant I thought I could see her there, seated at the piano.
Wisława Szymborska
The Joy of Writing and Other Poems
Even a simple “Hi” makes you feel quite extraordinary.
Marina Tsvetaeva
May 3, 1915
I like that it’s not me you pine for.
Mark Twain
Corn-Pone Opinions
As a rule we do not think, we only imitate.
Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
2 B R 0 2 B
All diseases were conquered. So was old age.
Robert Penn Warren
Selected Letters of Robert Penn Warren: New Beginnings and New Directions, 1953-1968
You never saw such kissing and pinching and grabbing.
Edith Wharton
Xingu
“No one reads Trollope now,” Mrs. Ballinger interrupted.
Oscar Wilde
The Decay of Lying
The novelist presents us with dull facts under the guise of fiction.
Tobias Wolff
Soldier’s Joy
I could shoot you and nobody would say boo.

Banned Authors & More

If you’re not having fun, there isn’t a big impetus to stay alive.

James Baldwin’s brilliant story is brought to life by Tom Jenks.

Boccaccio’s Decameron, abridged version, and more.

All I wanted, really, was to attain mythic status.

Reek of vodka and resin and cod, mandarins, cinnamon, apples.

If I was to live, he must live. I didn’t dare test the paradox.

Pilgrimes were they alle, toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.

For the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air.

the girl slips into sleep. her dream is red and raging.

Every sin is the result of a collaboration.

I think: Is he the mirror I see myself in?

Speaking, during those early years, was a punishment.

He realized the inconvenience of being passionately detested.

Henry had saved it; without fine feelings or deep insight.

Jack Hawthorne ran over and killed his brother, David.

she wiped her hands saying “lord these children”

They were such dummkopfs they kicked out the Jews.

They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one.

Let me go mamma, please. What is there here for me?

Kids interfere with perfection. Wives interfere. Marriage interferes.

Her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

They had talked at her for so long, that she hardly heard them at all.

Thanksgiving found him with his black suit in pawn.

Don’t let me lose the wonder of your eyes, unblinking.

She remained lucid, except for this frolic, this boisterous tête-à-tête.

This time, I would not endorse the check over to him.

I had already made up my mind that imperialism was an evil thing.

For lasting love, I’ve always relied on the friendship of women.

There’s nothing like a flood in the desert.

All his life he had been learning how to handle the rich and powerful.

I gave myself what one man I know calls “the luxury of idle thinking.”

For an instant I thought I could see her there, seated at the piano.

Even a simple “Hi” makes you feel quite extraordinary.

I like that it’s not me you pine for.

As a rule we do not think, we only imitate.

All diseases were conquered. So was old age.

You never saw such kissing and pinching and grabbing.

“No one reads Trollope now,” Mrs. Ballinger interrupted.

The novelist presents us with dull facts under the guise of fiction.

I could shoot you and nobody would say boo.