In the late summer of 1932, Hays sent a letter to the studio heads. “I am not unmindful,” he wrote, “of your constant stresses and pressures, to a point where it has been almost crushing. With these things in mind, I nonetheless urge a more strict compliance with the Production Code. There have been pictures that grossly violate the spirit and actually violate the letter of the Code. The great majority of folk in America refuse to be spattered with the spittle of decadent imaginations. Liberty of expression is not imperiled when protest is made against playwrights who glean their plots from
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“spattered with the spittle of decadent imaginations...” As close to the book’s theme as you could get.
