Empty Libraries: A Meditation on Book Bans, from Berlin to the Beaver State
On a recent trip to Berlin, I stood in the center of Bebelplatz and looked down at a transparent square embedded in cobblestones. It was so unassuming I wouldn’t have noticed it at all had the self-guided audio tour I was on not made note of it. Below the glass lay a small subterranean room lined with vacant bookshelves. Now a site-specific art installation called “The Empty Library”, it was here that, in 1933, the National Socialist Student Union burned a staggering 20,000 books, most of which were written by Jewish, communist, liberal, and other supposedly “un-German” authors.
The words fascism and Nazi have been bandied about so much in recent years that they’ve, tragically, almost lost their meaning. But it’s a fact that book banning most often has its roots in fascist, religious fundamentalist, or autocratic practices. A parallel could perhaps be then drawn between historical acts of literary censorship and the surge in book bans in the U.S. today.
Although much of the media’s attention focuses on the ever-growing list of banned books in conservative-led states, censorship isn’t a distant problem in Oregon. According to a recent Multnomah County Library report, the years between 2015 and 2024 saw a 62 percent increase in challenges to books that explore race, gender, or sexuality. From 2023 to 2024 alone, there were 151 formal requests to remove or restrict books in schools and libraries around the state.
This is, of course, still considerably lower than the number of challenges or outright bans in leading states such as Florida, Texas, and Tennessee, but the troubling aspect of the challenges in Oregon are in the ways these books are being targeted. According to the same Multnomah County Library report, 59 percent of challenged materials in 2024 and 2025 were not officially reported but rather ”hidden or vandalized by unknown people.” That number was only 40 percent the year before and 11 percent in 2022. Silent acts of censorship are, perhaps, replacing open debate. Further, it almost goes without saying that “76% of the items focused on one or more protected classes and 90% of items that were hidden or vandalized focused on one or more protected classes.”
Still, Oregon’s progressive nature often prevails in these skirmishes. KOIN reporter John Ross Ferrera wrote in a 2024 article, “Roughly 72% of all the books and other materials challenged in the last year were retained.” Interestingly, the most challenged books in that year were Beyond Magenta by Susan Kuklin, Flamer by Mike Curato, and Heartstopper Vol. 1 by Alice Oseman. In June of 2025, Governor Tina Kotek signed the “Freedom to Read” bill, which prevents institutions from banning books on the basis that they’re by or about a protected class. So, even though certain states have become notorious for creating legislation that results in censorship and banned books, Oregon is combating the trend. It’s important to stay vigilant, however, and to protect what to me is the crucial spirit of literature: to inhabit perspectives that are not your own.
During Banned Books Week, we celebrate not only the titles that have survived challenges but the fundamental right to access them. For an interesting historical perspective, check out PEN America’s timeline of book bans across the centuries. ✿
“The Empty Library.” Photo by Aaron Siirila via Wikipedia
