You’d think it was akin to publishing launch codes by the way this affair has been handled, but a few people really didn’t want you to read this review. In the end, as many suspected, it was not a racist rant that somehow snuck on to the pages of The Fiddlehead. The crime, if there was one, was a review that wasn’t 100% favourable and supportive of Emily Riddle’s work. You’ll probably never hear about one inexplicably powerful person who decided to smash up this small corner of CanLit, with no regard to casualties. The real power of the Internet is smear: accusations, damage, then maybe the truth long after it matters, maybe never. If the cause is righteous, the truth doesn’t matter, and no apologies are ever required, right? How do censors sleep at night? Of course, they’re convinced that they’re doing good. They have seen the offending text, and they’ve made a judgment, but allowing you to do the same must not be allowed. You can’t handle the truth.

In case the link to Susan’s blog blows up, I’ve included screen shots.