Why I Refuse to Read Books That Glorify Abuse

 By Yasmin Chaudhary

I never thought I would find myself sounding like a politician calling for books to be removed from shelves.

In fact, I often joke that I’m “going full Trump on book banning”—except I’m choosing books that glorify child abuse, incest, and racist ideology rather than books about people simply existing.

Jokes aside, this is a subject I feel strongly about.

As readers, we make choices every day about where to invest our time, attention, and money. With millions of books available, no one can read everything. For that reason, I believe it is important to think critically about the stories we choose to support and the messages they convey.

For me, there are certain subjects that cross a line.

I have no interest in reading books that romanticize or glorify pedophilia, incest, or racist ideology. While some readers view controversial literature as an opportunity to explore difficult themes, I believe there is a significant difference between examining abuse and presenting it in ways that encourage sympathy for perpetrators, diminish the experiences of victims, or transform trauma into entertainment.

Child sexual abuse is not a provocative literary device. It is a devastating reality that affects countless individuals and families. Survivors often carry the effects throughout their lives, including anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress, difficulties with trust, and challenges in forming healthy relationships. When stories center the desires or perspectives of abusers while minimizing the suffering of victims, I find it difficult to view them as meaningful contributions to literature.

The same applies to incest. In many real-world cases, incest is intertwined with abuse, coercion, manipulation, and profound violations of trust. Discussions about incest in literature can sometimes become detached from these realities, treating it as merely a shocking plot point or forbidden romance. In doing so, they risk overlooking the very real trauma that often accompanies such experiences.

My concerns extend beyond abuse to works that promote racist ideologies. Racism is not simply an offensive opinion. Throughout history, racist beliefs have been used to justify discrimination, violence, segregation, and the denial of basic human rights. Literature that celebrates or advances these ideas deserves careful scrutiny rather than unquestioning praise.

Some readers argue that engaging with controversial books does not necessarily mean endorsing their content. I understand that perspective, particularly in academic or historical contexts. Scholars, historians, and critics often study difficult material in order to better understand it.

However, my reading choices are guided by different priorities.

I read to learn, to be challenged, and to encounter perspectives different from my own. Yet I do not believe every book deserves my time or support. When a work is built around the glorification of abuse or hatred, I choose to spend my reading hours elsewhere.

This is not a call for universal agreement. Readers will always have different standards and different boundaries. These are mine.

In an era when discussions about censorship and book bans have become increasingly polarized, I recognize that my views may be unpopular with some readers. Nevertheless, I believe it is reasonable to ask difficult questions about the books we celebrate, recommend, and elevate.