Orson Scott Card

I don’t read books as much as I used too. Before computers and video games and cable television, I could easily go through three or four good novels a week. I was a regular fixture at whatever local library was nearest, because I certainly couldn’t afford to buy that many new books. Although, looking at the pared down collection I still possess, I did buy quite a few in my day.

I really can’t quite recall when I began reading Orson Scott Card, or which books. I recall reading the Worthing series fairly early, but a lot of things written by Card didn’t ring my bell. I could never get past the first page or two of his Homecoming saga, and his non-fiction is just way too Mormon for my tastes.

However, his Tales of Alvin Maker and his Ender series are masterpieces. I devoured them all, as fast as I could find them, or as fast as he could publish them. At the time, I had an idea that he was a Mormon, but I never really gave it much thought. In the world I grew up in, Mormon’s were lumped into the same box as other “weird” religions like Buddhists or Catholics or Taoists. I certainly was unaware that Card had such a low opinion of homosexuality and those of us that are homosexual.

And frankly, it didn’t matter then, and I don’t think it matters now. No matter what the man believes in his personal life, he wrote stories that I liked, that I believed in, and that entertained me.

  Now that his book Ender’s Game is being made into a movie, there have been all sorts of critics crawling out of the walls protesting that because he is of the opinion that homosexuals are deviants and wrong, that he shouldn’t be entitled to benefit from his talent at writing.

Hogwash.

There have always been people who don’t like us. There will always be people who don’t like us. If we devote all of our energy to being negative about them, how are we much different? If, for religious reasons, they feel that we are wrong, let them feel that way. If the root of their being uncomfortable with homosexuality is merely at some personal level, then that also is just fine with me. It doesn’t affect me, as long as their distaste doesn’t extend into actively blocking me from being who I want to be, and why should it dissuade me from admiring any other talent they might possess.

If instead of being a writer, Card was a painter, should I exclaim that his paintings are ugly just because he disagrees with how I live my life? Should I refuse to pay an entrance fee to a museum that holds one of his works?

I think we carry things too far. Sure, we should work on convincing the rest of the world that we are just like them and deserve the same benefits and rights and enjoyment of our lives as everyone else, but refusing to go see what is likely a really good movie, or not reading good books because the author may not like us personally is carrying things too far.