The censorship is primarily one of "cooperation," carried on between organizations whose motives, if not actions, are often praiseworthy, and booksellers and distributors who are usually glad to oblige. It is censorship by "Polite" warning, and "helpful" advice. It is highly effective.

Here in Cambridge, for example, such activity has been prevalent. Only on a few occasions has it become noisy, but even then it drew few protests.

One of the louder incidents occurred in the fall of 1951, when one Alfred Vellucci was campaigning for a post on the Cambridge Schools Committee. The strong point in his drive for election was his announced morals crusade, in which he distributed a pamplet called "Arouse Ye Citizens," signing it "Al Vellucci, Father of Six." With a larger brood to guard than most, he was intimately concerned with obscene literature, and asked that cheap and immoral books be banned from stands where children could pick them up.

Shortly after Vellucci's pamphlet appeared, several paper-back editions disappeared from Cambridge newstands. Among them were John O'Hara's A Rage to Live, and Torres' Women's Barracks, and Calder Willingham's Geraldine Bradshaw. In addition, a magazine called Art Photography was lifted, under the watchful eye of Cambridge police.

In turn, shortly after the new Schools Committee--with Vellucc a member--took office, Chief of Police Patrick F. Ready was accorded a vote of praise for his action in removing the books.

No charges were ever brought against these publications and no court order was ever issued for their suppression.

Local Operators

According to Ready, the operation in which a bookseller is "warned" works something like this: after a complaint from a group of private citizens has been received by the police, an officer, usually a plain clothes man, will visit the bookstores carrying the supposedly obscene piece. The officer will call the attention of the book-seller to the "lewd" parts in an attempt to discover his intent in selling the book.

The next approach, according to Ready, is to ask the dealer, "Have you got any children?" The reply is often "Yes." "Would you like to have them reading this stuff?" "Nine out of ten dealers." Ready said, "don't know when a book contains lewd sections. They answer "No" to the last question and take the book off the shelves."

"Of course," he continued, "we don't claim to be real experts on this stuff, but we know some thing is obscene or indecent when we see it. And this applies to movies as well as to literature."

Detectives, often policewomen, are also often used to screen most films, plays and art exhibitions. In the spring of 1951, Exstrasy an Austrian film, thus came under a Cambridge ban for its suggestive symbolism, and because Hedy Lamarr appeared nude. Last spring, a Brattle production of Eugene O'Neill's Desire Under the Elms was "cleaned up" enough to avoid being forbidden, after the ladies found it shocking.

Statewide Advice

"Warnings" have also recently been issued on a state-wide level, notably in the March case of Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer's alleged expose, "U.S.A. Confidentiial."

The friendly "advice" given by State Commissioner of Public Safety Daniel I. Murphy at that time, however, dealt not with obscenity but the fact that U.S.A. Confidential might be later sued for libel. State Police visited every book store, and most sellers immediately took it off the stands. It is still unavailable in Harvard Square.

Rumors at that time indicated that the State Police, the Governor, or any one of numerous state officials treated unfavorably in "U.S.A." might have brought up the police action, but none ever admitted to it. Lawyers, in addition, suggested that the state police might have been operating somewhate extra-legally in their action. Logically, the attorney general's office would have to request legal action on the book before suppression could be ordered.