Derogating censorship

Reading the hallowed columns of this newspaper; wading through all the stories of woe and strife that fill it, I am occasionally struck by something absurd, something so hysterically funny as to be beyond belief. A story that reassures me that all is not lost and that the goings on and shenanigans of this world are still capable of making me laugh.

The latest story to tickle my fancy was that of the warden who was cleared of posing naked in public. A 25-year-old warden whose name cannot be published by court order was accused of posing naked in remote spots like Buskett and "rocky beaches". I always find it very weird indeed that the model himself or herself is accused of offending public morals and not the person taking the photos. It does not take an Hercule Poirot to deduce that it was the actual photos that were reported and not the photographer who, unless the warden herself decides to reveal, will forever remain a mystery man... or woman. Nobody saw the warden posing in Buskett or on the "rocky beaches". Had they done so the photographer would have been arraigned too, wouldn't he? Some kind soul must have somehow got hold of the photos and reported the warden who was acquitted on the technicality that it could not be established when the photos were taken. All that the court observed, which I thought was very perceptive of them, was that she had reached puberty stage!

This snippet appeared concurrently with the news that the government will not permit spring hunting to take place as from March 21, 2008 if the European Court of Justice upholds the request filed by the European Commission. By the time this article appears the ban will be old news and the Malta hunting community will either have to take up clay pigeon shooting or embroidery. The reasons why it will have to do so are amply clear. There is not justification for a derogation in Malta's regard and, therefore, like the rest of Europe, we will for the first time in our history be free of the constant bangs that rent the early morning and late evening air of our balmy spring. Possibly, we may even have a chance for the first time in our lives to ramble about freely in the countryside without being threatened by somebody in a girna and, after this year is over, will no longer risk being tripped up by one of those lethal home-made contraptions that trap unwary song birds.

I have always felt so sorry for those poor song birds. It is an impression I have from being dragged to the Marsa horse races Sunday in and Sunday out as a child where, just below our "smart" enclosure, the hoi polloi perched like Humpty Dumpties on the metal piping that separated the ditch and the track. They were all like clones, wearing caps, wife-beaters (contemporary word for vests) and in those days low-cut hipsters which exposed varying expanses of their posterior cleavages to the tweedy great and the good, who, while sporting clusters of metal badges on their binoculars, pretended to ignore the gratuitous view a couple of yards away. What every other one of these trogs had, tucked under a hairy armpit was a tiny cage with some finch in it. I suppose it was like taking about a living transistor radio. I always felt terribly sorry for these little birds condemned to trash about in these confined damp and smelly spaces like the emperor's nightingale. I have not seen this prototype for years but trapping goes on unabated along with hunting. As from this spring, trapping will stop too.

Going back to the no doubt curvaceous warden and our strange ideas about public morality; we have, as a nation, reached a long overdue watershed about what we consider to be worthy of censure and what is not. There is an ongoing discussion at the moment about censorship in theatre which after seeing plays like Laughing Wild and Some Explicit Polaroids, to name but two, is wildly laughable. Mario Philip Azzopardi's Sulari Fuq Strada Stretta, which was banned outright in 1977, has been shown to packed houses. Sulari is now pretty dated; a play, which, if nothing else, has proved to Maltese theatre-goers that Maltese plays can be just as rivetingly good and entertaining as English ones.

What do I think of censorship? I find it all rather pointless. I also find it counterproductive. In today's world the "full versions" of practically everything under the sun can be found on internet, so what's the point of drawing attention to a moot point? It only serves as an irritant.

It is about time that the powers that be realised that more and more people today insist that "the right to choose" is part and parcel of their normal everyday lives. People want the right to abort, the right to divorce, the right to have a same-sex partner, the right to do all sorts of things provided they are justified. It is just like the hunters who were under the impression that they could justify a derogation. If people who want to expose themselves in public and have sex on the rooftops can submit a report that such actions are justified then, yes, a derogation to do so will be obtained. I doubt whether any commission will grant it. This is not about censorship but plain common sense. What we are talking about here is censorship of works of art. Whether visual or aural, censorship is irrelevant; as irrelevant as that misguided Pope who made Daniele da Volterra "dress" the glorious nudes that conveyed the finality of Michelangelo's Last Judgment so forcefully. Poor Volterra was henceforth known as "il Braghettone" the breeches maker! So give up on censorship and let us be the judges. We are not children for goodness' sake!

The warden story reminded me of the one when a bevy of lap-dancing beauties was rounded up somewhere in Paceville and hauled, as they were, before a magistrate. I am uncertain of the outcome of this case as I believe it has been appealed and, therefore, will refrain from saying any more about it. The warden herself must have made a very pleasant change not only in the variety of warden who are not usually known for their charms, either physical or otherwise, but also of "bird" usually seen in the wilds of Buskett by the hunters. Maybe in anticipation of the EU court ruling they were already practising shooting of a different kind in the wee hours? Who knows? I far prefer photo shoots than pellet shoots; they can be far more aesthetic and, above all, they hurt nobody.

kzt@onvol.net