I think the presence of politically uncomfortable content in books (and other bits of culture) is an interesting question. And interesting topic for discussion.
It doesn't stop with just Enid Blyton, you know. It's a major issue in higher education, and is a fairly hot topic in the arena of Literature (the capitalisation of L is intentional) in American universities. People are writing dissertations and articles about it.
While I don't expect everyone on mn to be a cornell West or Toni Morrison, or even a Susan Sontag or Raymond Williams in terms of insight and intellectual fleibility, a shambling and grunted: "Well, just don't read it then" is ... particularly disappointing.
I imagine a circle of prehistoric beings, gathered around a fish. One of them grunts something like: "This is a bit crap. Do you think we could do something with it? Add a few herbs maybe? stick it on the fire, or something? Anything, really, because it really sucks eating it just like this."
A chorus of: "Well don't eat it then," ensues (in prehistoric grunts, or whatever). Thank goodness that some of those grunters decided to just go ahead and do some kicking ideas-beyond-the-immediately-to-hand around.
Wouldn't life be tedious otherwise? Now, thankfully, we live in a world where chocolate bars contain exploding space dust. Whoever would have guessed we'd be here if they'd been eavesdropping on that bunch.
And, of course, there is is still room in this world for raw fish.