This is the chronicle of a legal battle between H. L.Mencken, who was then editor of the American Mercury and Frank Chase, self-appointed censor and leader of the New England Watch and Ward society in Boston during the early 20's. Mencken, of course, had been a foe of New England puritanism for some time. He believed that American puritanism had shifted its emphasis from consideration of good and evil to private morality and good taste (as they defined it). They were no longer interested in eliminating their own sins but wanted to exorcise the sins of others, or as Mencken said "substituting the hair shirt for the flaming sword."

By 1926 the American Mercury had achieved substantial respect (and notoriety) for publishing numerous works of literature many by authors of considerable note. All during this time Mencken was looking for an article that he knew would inflame Chase to attack the magazine so Mencken could file a test case. Chase had the Boston booksellers completely paranoid and under his control. His technique was to organize a boycott against any magazine vendor or book dealer who permitted any item to be sold that Chase disliked. If that failed Chase would call his buddy, the Postmaster General, who would ban the offending publication from the mails.

"Hatrack" proved to be the perfect story. It was a metaphorical tale attacking hypocritical church members. Hatrack was the name of a prostitute in a small Missouri town.. (Incidentally, the story was based on real people and real incidents and the author volunteered during the trial to retrieve the individual to testify about the veracity of his story -- Mencken demurred, feeling this would be a terrible invasion of her privacy.) Hatrack tries to seek solace Sunday mornings in church where she is consistently shunned by the congregation. She achieves a measure of revenge by plying her trade in the local cemeteries; being careful to take Protestants to their own cemetery and vice-verse.

The entire story, which is reprinted in this book, can in no way be considered "obscene;" but Chase, true to form, promptly took offense, purchased a copy, and filed suit. A local judge who had actually read the story dismissed the case immediately. Normally it would have ended there but for Chase's influence in the Post Office. He succeeded in banning copies of the Mercury from the mails. Most of the book is a detailed rendering of the amusing battle with the Post Office which ultimately lost its case in a landmark decision, the judge ruling that if "the test of literature were to be its effect on degenerates then almost everything might be banned" (p.125. )

Chase died before the final resolution of the case and never witnessed the final outcome. Some reports indicated the conflict may have contributed to his demise. Mencken's account is wonderful, filled with his usual trenchant wit dripping with sarcasm for the Boston "Comstocks" and "Wowsers." For example: "I must add that his death did not greatly surprise me. Like all agnostics, I am somewhat superstitious, and one of my superstitions is to the effect that men who set out to do me evil not infrequently die suddenly. I could compile a long list of examples, but this is not the place for it. Chase's death gave me no noticeable grief. He belonged to a type of cleric that is extraordinarily obnoxious to me. I spent years denouncing others of his kind, and when I met him in Boston I found nothing in him to ameliorate my views of the species. He was a Pecksniff, and, despite all his burly geniality, he looked and acted the part. Boston was full of reports that, like Anthony Comstock, he was extremely fond of the dirty literature he professed to hold in such holy horror, and was in the habit of exhibiting it clandestinely to friends."

Ironically, Mencken was proud of his diligence in keeping all advertising out of the Mercury which might in any way be considered "lewd or lascivious," which effectively prevent the advertising of such books as The Compleat Anqler and the Decameron of Boccaccio. ( )