A few weeks back reader Neil Vogler pointed me to an article in the Guardian that addresses an interesting question about authorship, intent, and propriety.
Recently, several different posthumous book projects have been announced, some even that are against the deceased author’s wishes.
How do we feel about this? Should an author be able to dictate what works are and aren’t published, even after death? Should we abide by their decisions? Or does the public deserve to have a full airing of an author’s work?
Ink says
When I die I want every copy of everything I’ve ever written to be buried with me inside my giant pyramid.
(Trust me, the city of Windsor will look better with a giant pyramid in the middle of it.)
My best,
Bryan
Jen P says
@adcremer
Yes, you’re right about the publication being another aspect of preservation. The Cologne archives recently lost in the building’s collapse, means that a huge part of Heinrich Böll’s life work is lost.
The archives included the minutes of all town council meetings held since 1376. Not a single session had been missed, making the collection a remarkable resource for legal historians.
The earliest document stored in the building dated back to 922, and there were hundreds of thousands of documents spread over six floors, some of them written on thin parchment. A total of 780 complete private collections and half a million photographs were being stored.
Many of the documents had been recovered from library buildings smashed by Allied bombing during the Second World War.
So, for historical reasons, maybe electronic storage would be better, but that would involve external publication no doubt.
Anonymous says
“When you’re dead, they usually do whatever they want.”
But would you, say, donate someone’s organs when they had specifically requested that not be done? Yeah, I know, I know, not the same thing–but why not? Journal entries and private musings are just as much body parts as general innards are, maybe moreso.
More practically, I think it has to do with the nature of the work. Was it intended to be private– maybe an exorcism of mortal fears, petty jealousies, conversations with God? Or just an unfinished novel that needed a good working over? Publishing that man’s private journal, stripping his grief naked–no member of the public is owed that simply because he can’t protest anymore.
Past painters painted over their old works all the time, as revealed by modern technology, but the artist obviously thought it was crap, or worth more for the canvas. Now, do we strip away the paint on the one that *we* feel is the lesser example, or do we respect the artist’s estimation of his own work?
Okay, you may now commence chiding me on the absurdity of the organ donation parallel.
cttiger says
If you spent the time and sweat to write something, you should be the final arbiter on what happens to it. If that meant the Mystery of Edwin Drood never got published, so be it. May the ghosts of all authors haunt you forever if you went against their wishes.
Mira says
Ink –
ooooo. Me, too.
Only I want my pyramid to be pink.
With neon arrows, pointing at the pyramid saying “Hands off. It’s all mine, mine, mine. Bwah ha ha.”
Court says
Ethically speaking, the living should respect the wishes of the dead. If an author didn’t want something to be published, then the author had good reasons…and those reasons don’t necessarily expire when the author does.
That said, I don’t care of someone publishes my unpublished stuff after I’m dead. I’ll be dead–it won’t matter to me one whit. ;o) The fallout is for the living to contend with.
Ink says
Mira,
Well, since I live in Windsor, if my pyramid was pink and covered in neon arrows it would look like just one more strip club or massage parlour. A terrible plight. One’s death monument must stand out, right?
Bryan
Christina says
This is definitely wrong….especially for a diary. If someone states that they don’t want something published, then there shouldn’t be any debate over it – whether he is dead or not. This is just a case of someone trying to cash in which is severely wrong.
Ann Victor says
No. The author’s last will and testament should be honoured.
Mira says
Ink,
That’s a really good point. I’ve never been to Windsor, so I wasn’t aware of the problem.
Hmmm. So, the goal here is how to make a death monument stand out amid the neon and the garishness?
Well, obviously it just has to be bigger. As in MUCH bigger.
I’m seeing a 1600 foot high pyramid in the shape of a bunny rabbit. And so it’s not confused with the massage parlors, we’ll cover it in polka dots and daisies.
Massage that, suckers!
And then, once an hour, the bunny rabbit’s whiskers will wave up and down. People will come for miles.
Best death monument in the world.
What do you think?
Diana Evans says
We should always honored the authors wishes…
I agree that the dcision rests with the estate….
RW says
I’d completely forgotten that my blog is inspired by and modeled after an example of what we’re discussing — Journal of A Novel, the published book form of a private diary that John Steinbeck kept while writing East of Eden as a way of limbering up and working out some problems. Shame on me, I’ve read it about six times. It’s been invaluable.
Anonymous says
“Dearest Max, my last request: Everything I leave behind me … in the way of diaries, manuscripts, letters (my own and others’), sketches, and so on, [is] to be burned unread.”
–Franz Kafka
Who criticizes Max Brod for ignoring that?
Ink says
Mira,
I just hired an architect…
Haste yee back ;-) says
I’ll worry about all the “artsy” stuff I leave behind… well, when I’m dead!
(Okay, show me any — ANY evidence that death precludes worry).
Haste yee back 😉
Anonymous says
Mira, your death monument sounds a lot like Las Vegas.
I like the 50 year rule of thumb. It’s possible an author modeled a work or character closely on a real life person who might be embarrassed or harmed should the work be published. If the work has societal value, it will still be valuable in 50 years. If it’s Dan Browns unfinished MS and the estate just wants the money now while he’s still hot, that’s unethical. But also probably unstoppable.
Ah, the benefits of not being rich and famous. I sleep peacefully knowing that if I were run over by a truck tomorrow any truly dreadful story I wrote will never be seen by anyone. No cause for concern and writing remains unpressured.
Yamile says
What can I say that hasn’t already been said? I agree with several points presented:
1. You wait sometimes for years to have your work published, and then you ask that it doesn’t get published?
2. So many words of genius might have been lost forever if the author’s words weren’t published posthumously. One of my favorite books is “Wives and Daughters” by Elizabeth Gaskell, and it was published after she died, UNFINISHED, but I still love it!
On the other hand, I’d be mortified to have someone go through my files after I’m dead and publish my personal diaries. Not because I might be embarrassed (I’ll be dead!), but because they might embarrass or hurt other people. Not that I have dark secrets in my past, but there are things that were written only as a therapy and not facts.
Yat-Yee says
If the author has expressed their wishes explicitly, then we should honor the wishes. If we are the authors who don’t want our stuff published, we should realize we have no control over anything after we die.
ieva says
If they never wanted them published, why didn’t they burn them on the spot or at least leave a will with “burn the entire contents of my desk drawer” in it?
Fawn Neun says
If the author has expressed the wish to NOT have something published (as in Nabokov’s case), I say it shouldn’t be published.
pjd says
My opinions have been all over the place on this as I read through the comments.
Then I thought, oh, hell, I’ll be dead, what will I care?
Seriously.
And if people are so enamored of me long after my death that they want to learn every little detail of my life from my (gawdawfully boring) journals and whatnot, more power to them.
That said, it’s just my opinion of my own work here. Others who feel differently should take precautions. I don’t know… set up a Trust for the estate, with explicit instructions or something.
I’m sure some enterprising businessperson could set up a company that would exploit this fear. A lot like cryonics–a deep freeze for your creative works, an immortality of your privacy.
Sounds like a very easy business to set up, establish, then sell to Google.
simon says
interesting post, as the last two books I’ve read have been published posthumously.
I know one of them was presented counter to some of the author’s wishes. But as his instructions were with the intent of maximising financial return for his estate (and the book’s shifting big units as is) then I think the publisher’s decision was forgivable. Plus the finished book is great.
Regarding the other book, I’ve no idea whether it compromises the author’s intent in any way, but without wanting to sound mean, I’d rather it stayed unpublished. It was a bit rubbish.
Anonymous says
“If they never wanted them published, why didn’t they burn them on the spot or at least leave a will with “burn the entire contents of my desk drawer” in it?”
As noted, Kafka did. That’s the whole point of the question: “Should publishers publish works posthumously *against* the author’s wishes. Their wishes have been stated in such a way that it presents a moral dilemma. Whether it’s for the enrichment of society (I think historical preservation might be different, because then you’d have to seek it out, not just buy it at Borders)or the enrichment of the inheritors of the estate, it’s still basically denying someone a last–and perhaps dearest–wish.
And, burn them on what spot? When their high cholesterol they didn’t know they had catches up with them? Or they get t-boned at an intersection? You don’t aways get the time to compose the perfect death poem on the way out.
Anonymous says
Sorry for the missing close-quotes @1:30.
Mara Wolfe says
An author’s creative property (i.e. written work, characters, worlds) is theirs before and after death. No matter who owns it, they cannot claim true ownership over the work, therefore the author’s wishes should be respected.
Alex says
That’s why Neil Gaiman is adamant about author’s wills detailing what will happen to the works. He suggests, even prior to the publishing process, that every writer drafts one, to protect their IP.
Erin Cabatingan says
I have a theory that once we’re dead, some of the things that we worried so much about in this life–like appearances and what people think of us–won’t really matter so much. So, even if I don’t want something of mine published while I’m alive, I probably won’t care once I’m dead.
If the work is a journal or memoir, their might be the consideration of what publishing it would do to the deceased’s living relatives. When I’m dead, I might not care what others think of me, but my kids might be affected by that. Or maybe I wrote something that could be hurtful to another living person. I think those things should be taken into consideration.
playingwithchildren.blogspot.com
Neil says
Hi. Speaking as the aforementioned Neil Vogler (hello Wisconsin!) I have had some time to chew on this one. My instinct is to say no, don’t you dare publish post-humously, but as other, less inebriated posters have pointed out, it depends very strongly on the individual circumstances. If an author dies leaving unfinished works, then in my opinion those should be absolutely off-limits, regardless of how “important to society” they are perceived to be. If they’re unfinished then they’re unfit for human consumption — it’s like having a great meal without the sense of satisfaction and fullness that comes afterwards, or if you like your analogies a tad cruder, sex with a fantastic partner but no wondrous climax. And though some readers might fancy that purely as an exercise, we writers are generally all about the finish, baby. On the other hand, if an author has finished works that never saw the light of day for one reason or another I reckon that’s okay. The problem comes when we don’t know whether the work is finished or not. Perhaps in those cases Judge Judy should decide… Anyway, as for burning the work you don’t want the masses to see before you die, the only problem I can see with that is a lot of us don’t really plan on dying — it just happens, and often at a really inconvenient moment. (What were his last words? they asked. “I’ll just get my matches…”)
Ellen says
It is a tough question. I’ve read a few biographies of Anne Frank, and the full Critical Edition of her diary, and there has been debate about whether her father’s decision to publish the diary was right.
One the one hand, Anne was a teenage girl who stressed repeatedly that her diary was private, both to her family and in the diary itself. On the other, she was editing it for possible publication, and being a published writer was her dream, which she didn’t live long enough to fulfill. Her father chose to publish numerous passages that Anne herself omitted from the revised version.
I’ve never been certain where I stood on that – I think in the case of Anne Frank, her father was right. That said, my opinion is based on the impact her diary had and hindsight is always 20/20.
If I die unpublished, I will be leaving strict instructions for my heirs to keep trying! I’ll also be very precise about what they can and can’t publish and hope I scared them enough in life to respect my instructions!
Word verification: squernin. noun. What this topic makes me do. Vascillate, hesitate.
Mira says
Anon – really? My 1600 foot bunny death monument painted in pink polka dots and daisies sounds like Las Vegas?
Shoot.
Whenever I have a good idea, someone steals it.
Wow, they built that bunny death monument quickly.
I’m suing.
Mira says
Am I being disrepectful with my jokes about death monuments?
Sorry, if I am. Highly difficult day at work – letting off steam.
Also, there’s a way I may take this issue fairly lightly. I don’t really see it as an issue of respect. I think public benefit outweighs individual privacy concerns once someone has passed on.
Annalee says
Since I’ll be dead anyway, I don’t care if people see my ugly first drafts.
The only thing I would find really terrible is if my work got locked up in some kind of awful legal nonsense (like what happened with Roger Zelazny). The best way I can think to prevent that is to order my works released into the public domain (or creative commons) upon my death. That wouldn’t prevent people from being crazy/greedy/slimy about my stuff, but at least it would protect people who were trying to do something awesome. As long as awesome people could do what they wanted, I wouldn’t care about “crass exploitation,” because I’d be dead :).
Per yesterday’s identity discussion, I may identify as a writer, but I certainly don’t identify as my work. In the end, after all, they’re just words.
MaLanie says
I was leaning toward the “respect the authors wishes” camp, but after reading Purple Clover’s post on Emily Dickenson I don’t know where to stand on the issue.
You made a great point, Clover.
Memoirs of a Bulimic Black Boy says
Wills, trusts and estates are forwarding thinking documents which require an event to occur before they become enforceable. The problem with this is that when people create them it is often hard to see what they might be leaving behind when that event occurs. As for leaving it up to the executor or trustee, you’d be amazed how many people name someone to that position and then go on the have a feud or fallout with them── yet they neglect to update their will, trust or estate. If one really wants to safeguard something from being published, sold or shown they might be wise to have the executor/trustee of those things be a non-family attorney or bank who has a binding legal interest to their client both while living and deceased.
Gwen says
My mom burned everything she wrote as a teenager on the off-chance some wiseass kid (me or my siblings) might try to publish it. I don’t think writers should have to do this to prevent people from invading their privacy!
Annie Reynolds says
Lets face it Nathan, our work evolves and changes as we do, hopefully for the better. I like to keep works I have done in the past as a guide post to what I was capable of then and where i have (hopefully) progressed to now.
If you look back on any project, you will see an evolution of style, a refining of voice and a fine tuning of talent.
I look at homework assignments completed more than 30 years ago and although I would shudder for anyone else to see them I like to keep them as a personal reminder of where I began.
The same applies to my first attempts to find what has developed into my voice, they are personal reminders, that is all.
The work I do now is the work I am prepared to show the world, well some of it at least. I would be mortified if my earlier attempts were ever made public, I have a pride in my work and myself that should be respected in both life and death.
There is no question that if you were to take a friends or a family members diary and read it, you would be committing a gross invasion of their privacy, so why does this change once we die.
Think of an artist you respect and admire, do you really want to see his adolescent scratches and doodles, the ones he did before he knew how to hold a pencil correctly, and if so why, so we can feel better about the fact that in the beginning he was crap too.
We all know how hard it is to make a living as a writer, work we believe in is nigh to impossible to have read by agents or publishers. If we have work that is worthy then we put it out there, everywhere we can, in an attempt to have it read. Doesn’t this beggar the question then, if it is work the author did NOT want read, then why would you want to sully your memory of a great author with work he or she had deemed unworthy of public consumption?
Bethanne says
Ooo, toughie. i thought about this recently after hearing that Suzanne Simmons/Elizabeth Guest had passed away. I think she was working on book number three. And I felt sad for her family, her friends…and her fans.
I don’t know. I think the author’s wishes should be upheld… But, in reality, which author is going to be refusing to publish their work…even unto death? And if the author had died, he/she probably isn’t going to be too worried about the final product anymore. You think? I don’t know. I don’t think I would be too worried. But that’s just me.
With a solid fan base, any fan who finds the writing lacking or first draftish would probably allow for that, thinking…she must not have gotten to finish it. 🙂
Jil says
I definately think a person’s wishes for after they die should be respected, unless that wish is to hurt another creature. If a writer does not want his work published he must say so.
As for me, I hope to have a very dramatic death, hit all the headlines, then they’ll be fighting to publish my seven novels and I will be jumping up and down in the clouds with glee!
Anonymous says
Author’s wishes should be the LAW. Who did the work but the author? If the author chose not to publish juvenalia, or second-rate work, why should a reputation be damaged because of greed on the part of the estate, or a publisher or agent… Ridiculous.
Of course, if the writer intended that something be published, that’s a different question.
therese says
Interesting. My mother took writing classes, had a few pieces published in magazines, etc. She was not famous, had no true love of writing, or desire to be an author. I do.
Mom was funny about having her name on something she wrote, as she aged. She wanted her writing to be anonymous, even the articles she wrote for her church magazine, (which didn’t happen).
In my memoir, I used some of my mom’s own pieces, slightly edited by me; one was a personal letter to a friend, another a journalistic account of a trip, and another was combined from different versions of a writing assignment. There wasn’t much saved to choose from… Pieces she had worked on to publish, weren’t used.
Granted, my memoir is my work, but it’s still Mom’s writing, that I’m publishing, though she’s dead.
Until now, I hadn’t considered any of these writings, I am publishing, as part of the “estate”.
If you have the time, give me some insight as to how this would be handled. Is the percentage of Mom’s writing in comparison to the complete memoir, property of the estate?
Sarah Laurenson says
Anais Nin dictated that her diary could only be published when the last person involved had died. I think that was a nice balance between publication and being respectful of others.
Hard to say in general. There are so many reasons why it could go either way.
LCS249 says
No. Period.
Annie Reynolds says
I think it is a question of intent. If it is the authors intent to publish, then I can see no reason not to publish. I have only recently finished reading the final book in the TROY series by David Gemmell. I, like so many others mourned his loss, and while I was aware his wife completed his final novel there did not seem to be any feeling of invasion; this is a work he clearly wanted read. I would feel disturbed however if I ever saw Druss or Legend out there in the cinemas as he was adamant he did not want hollywood to get their hands on the character of Druss and change it in any way as it was based on his step father who he admired and respected. He had been made offers which he turned down and jokingly said if it were ever to hit the cinemas it would be over his dead body. A very sad statement now in hind sight.
Roscoe James says
The author. Always. Long as he hasn’t signed them away.
Dara says
As much as I’d like to say that it would be the moral thing to do, I know from my standpoint, I don’t really care what happens to my stuff after I’ve passed. I’d rather it be published; it’s more likely that it will last for posterity’s sake that way.
I have to agree with what Mira (and probably others, haven’t read all the comments) said in that once you’re dead, you’re dead.
For me, even if it’s something I never want anyone else to see, I can’t really do anything about it. What do I care anyway? I’m no longer here amongst the living–life (on earth) is over.
Earthly concerns won’t matter to me then; I’m sure I’ll be too busy enjoying heaven to care if people here see a controversial or questionable unpublished manuscript or diary entries.
Jill Lynn says
There’s a big difference between manuscripts a writer never intended to be published, and those a writer specifically told someone NOT to have published. For an author’s estate to publish the latter is plain wrong. And for the estate to justify doing so by saying they’re publishing it because the public deserves it? Give me a break. That’s nothing but sugar-coating to hide how greedy they are.
Richard Lewis says
“Should” they? Of course not.
“Will” they? Of course.
But to be selfishly honest, I am much more pragmatically concerned about being published with my blessings while I’m still alive.
Eva Ulian says
I was once told that the moment your words are written on paper they are no longer yours.
Walter Agony says
I’m a huge Patrick O’Brian fan and I thought it was sheer grave robbery when they published his last unfinished manuscript as 21.
Anonymous says
I happen to think that I should have the same control over what happens to my written work as I have over the rest of my property. And that includes having it destroyed, if I choose–think of the jewelry that’s buried with corpses. However, in a more practical sense, I would like to be able to leave the proceeds to whomever I choose, forever, without the book falling into the public domain. You would never say that my shares of stock have now fallen to the general public, or that my descendants should hand over my great-grandmother’s teapot–or for that matter, that artwork held in private collections should be turned over to “the public” after a specified time, but for some reason, books are different. I don’t “own” my work in the same way a business man or a farmer owns his.
I should be able to leave the rights to my work to my descendants (or to some charity or other interest) in perpetuity.