The Sun. 42 WYNDHAM STREET. AUCKLAND THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 1930 “TOO DELICATE TO DISCUSS ”

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 914, 6 March 1930, Page 10

The Sun. 42 WYNDHAM STREET. AUCKLAND THURSDAY, MARCH 6, 1930 “ TOO DELICATE TO DISCUSS ”

THIS has nothing whatever to do with any subject that causes the innocent to blush. The caption epitomises the comments of a Christchurch Labour member of Parliament oh the difficulties of the Government and the embarrassments of the rival parties in <» Opposition. Mr. D. G. Sullivan has said that it was difficult for him to discuss at present such a delicate matter as the political situation. Obviously, the difficulty is greater than the delicacy, for politics as a pretence rather than as an exact science is still tough enough for anything, and is by far the toughest matter for which the taxpayer has to pay an extravagant price. There is really no reason for any legislator being minimouthed in discussing the unique political situation in this country. Like everybody else, Mr. Sullivan knows quite well that the position, both administratively and politically, has become so much a farce as to be almost a political tragedy. The best work of the Government each day is always an expression of hope or an optimistic assurance that something exceptionally good and fine will be done tomorrow or perhaps the next day a 1 the latest. And so “the delicate matter of the political situation” goes on and on. Without the normal vigour and shrewd guidance of experienced leadership, the crude Administration, with everything to learn and more than enough to forget, is compelled to mark time instead of marching onward on sufferance (to use its own phrase) to the shining goal of the United Party. Happily, it is true that Sir Joseph Ward has derived great benefit from his recuperative sojourn at the Rotorua spa and is reported to be “as fit as a fiddle,” but it is regrettable that the veteran statesman’s convalescence still is such as to prevent him from practising leadership with his former robustness, thus galvanising a politically palsied party into forward action and appreciable enterprise. Xo one can yet say definitely, as everybody would wish it to be said, that he will be able to lead the House of Representatives during the most arduous session of the Parliamentary term, and combat effectively a lively, if not always a logical or even a lucid, Opposition.

Presumably, it is in that doubt more than in anything else about politics that Mr. Sullivan has found a situation almost too delicate to discuss, though the member for Avon may have been worried about the equally delicate position of the Labour Party. “What was going to happen?” asked Mr. Sullivan, and forthwith gave his own answer: “If the present Government could emerge through (or from) the coming session, it would be one of the wonders in the political history of New Zealand.” A greater wonder would be the dismissal of the Government by a combination of the unequal and hopelessly irreconcilable forces of the Reform-Labour Opposition, and the increased group of Independents. Which party will bell the cat? It is difficult to find one controversial question upon which the divided ranks of the Opposition would unite for the purpose of dismissing the incompetent Government. There would be no difficulty in finding half a dozen problems demanding unified Opposition, if all the parties stood for the State and not just for their own interests. What about Samoa? it may be asked. The question is a futile one. There is no likelihood of the Reform Party linking up with Labour to flail the Government for its policy and consequences in Samoa. And there is as little prospect of the Labour Party going back on its alliance with the Government for the purpose of increasing the tax on imports and imposing a levy on landowners. Moreover, and this is the most delicate matter of all in the political situation, is it likely that professional politicians, at a time when they are enjoying a bonus of a hundred pounds a year, in addition to their statutory salary, will break the New Zealand rule of holding on to political billets till the last minute? Then it is clear that the new Independents will not do much to jeopardise the administrative life of the Government. Neither Mr. Fletcher at Grey Lynn nor Mr. Jenkins at Parnell gave convincing- reasons for their desertion from the tents of the Unitecls, or provided prospect of rendering effective service of any kind in a neutral camp. Like all bees that hive away, they have buzzed loudly, hut that is all. Mr. Jenkins, in particular, has made it clear where he would like to be, though he failed just as clearly to show where he is. No doubt, an emergency g-.u:- election.would solve his and many other difficulties. CENSORS CENSURED HK. E. J. BELL, librarian of the Canterbury Public Library, is ill entitled to the warmest thanks of the reading public for his very clear exposition of the responsibilities of libraries in presenting various classes of books to the public. Around this subject centres the whole problem of the censorship of books, and Mr. Bell enunciated a very wise principle in stating that the power of censorship is one that should be applied only with the greatest respect and caution. Some of the delegates to the Libraries’ Association Conference, before which the address was delivered, must have felt' embarrassed by the candour of Mr. Bell’s observations, for among them were several who banned the celebrated war book, “All Quiet on the Western Front,” after it had been lauded overseas as a masterpiece which all should read. The fact that “All Quiet on the Western Front” was banned from Auckland municipal libraries by Mr. J. Barr, the chief librarian, who was supported in his decision by the Library Committee of the City Council, gives the discussion a local interest. The libraries already had on their shelves countless books of a more deliberately salacious character. The fact is, as Mr. Bell points our, that such books may easily find their way unobtrusively to library shelves, and. repose there 'in an obscure position without doing any harm to the morals of the community. If the morals of the community were assumed to be endangered by literary licence, acknowledged masterpieces would have to be swept from the shelves in the subsequent spring-cleaning, and half the great playwrights, dramatists and novelists of English literature would be consigned to the dust-heap. If the policies of libraries were formulated on the requirements of those readers whose tastes are so delicate and sensitive as to he offended by the comedy and drama of everyday life, the result would be a limited and, to some extent, insipid representation of the current literary output. It is not the function of librarians to impose arbitrary restrictions like this upon their subscribers. If they propose to do so, the result will be a gradual waning in the popularity of municipal libraries, and a movement to those private libraries which maintain a saner outlook. Fortunately Mr. Bell has shown very clearly how the disadvantages of inordinate censorship outweigh the advantages, particularly when the self-appointed censor fails to distinguish literary merit and sincerity from mere smut.