Like some of the other classmates have mentioned, the most
recent experience I have with assessing the authenticity of a book occurred when
the news about “The Boy Who Came Back from Heaven” broke in the news. Our
library staff was surprised to read about this situation, but frankly, I
believe we were more surprised that a story with this subject was the center of
the debate. That was probably biased thinking on our part.
Our library’s Collection Development staff team was meeting
later that week, so they discussed this book and decided to leave it in the
non-fiction collection. When asked why, our library’s main selector noted that
the library “does not verify the authenticity of all books in the non-fiction
collection, so we will leave it on the shelf and let patrons decide for
themselves” (S. Bonham, personal communication, January 22, 2015). Staff has
not heard much from patrons, and the book continues to circulate, so we cannot
comment on whether or not the announcement had an impact on patron interest –
or if patrons are simply curious to read the book more now than before.
I do remember controversy like this when A Million Little Pieces was revealed –
and I was actually reading the book at the time that it came out, so I felt
like I had to comb through it! I did feel some twinges of compassion and a lot
of mortification for Frey, as I’m sure it was embarrassing to re-live this
mistake over and over as he was exposed by the media. I feel even more compassion
for Alex Malarkey who, from the media reports I’ve read, seems to be a victim
of his father/family’s intention to create this story about his return from the
afterlife. While Frey can take full responsibility for his decision to
fabricate his biography, Alex seems to have been a somewhat innocent party in
his story – which, while it doesn’t negate the fact that this story has been
retracted, somewhat requires a reader to take pause and consider the
circumstances and familial pressures of this story.
Also – let’s pause and consider the irony of Alex’s last
name. Malarkey. Defined as “meaningless talk; nonsense.” It may be unfair to
point that out, but I found it somewhat laughable, so I thought I’d see if
anyone else noticed too.
When considering the library’s responsibility in this
situation, I think it’s a very gray area. The library in which I work moved Frey’s
book from non-fiction to fiction, but as is demonstrated above, they did not do
that with Malarkey’s. I think some of that has to do with the decision-makers
at the time, which opens up larger questions about cataloging consistency, the
library’s role in making decisions about books’ authenticity, the
responsibility of patrons to be informed to whatever extent they think is important, and even
publishers’ responsibility when printing these books. Regardless, I am
confident that this library – and any good library – would leave books on the
shelf and allow patrons to make informed decisions about what they read.
I laughed when I realized that his last name was Malarkey as well. It just kind of brings another level of ridiculousness to the situation.
ReplyDeleteIt is really hard to make the determinations of where books belong in the collection when it comes to situations such as this. If there is the smallest amount of fiction in a non-fiction book, should it go into the fiction section? When new facts come to light, should a book be discarded or should it be moved or left alone? When Lance Armstrong came out and admitted that he took steroids, we weeded all the children's books that proclaimed him a great athlete. Does this same situation apply for fake memoirs? It s really hard call to make.