Posthumous publication: Austen, Tolkien and more
The release of "Pirate Latitudes" by Michael Crichton (shown here) and "The Original of Laura" by Vladimir Nabokov -- authors who left this world some time ago -- reopens the sensitive issue of posthumous publication. They're not alone, of course. Authors including Jane Austen and Franz Kafka have watched from heaven as their works were published. Ditto for one of my favorites, "A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole.
In the kindest interpretation, these new works offer scholars and fans new knowledge about literary giants, and a chance to reinterpret other works. In the cruelest view, they can be little more than literary grave robbing, crass exploitation to make a few bucks.
Nabokov, for example, recorded thoughts about a new book on notecards, and left instructions that they should be destroyed upon his death. But his son decided to publish the fragmentary work.
I don't have a problem with that sort of publication. It gives Nabokov lovers a chance to examine him working at his craft. In a way, it almost makes him immune from criticism, because we would assume that any bad writing would eventually smoothed over, any plot holes would be plugged.
I have more reservations about "finished" works that are published posthumously. I assume they stayed in a drawer for a reason: The author wasn't satisfied. Out of respect, these works should stay where they are, bound and gagged.
For more on the topic, see this Time essay on posthumous publication and commentary by Nathaniel Rich in The Daily Beast. Meanwhile, The Guardian asks whether this is a sign of "[p]ublishers devoid of inspiration cashing in on sure things, or worthy attempts to provie the complete spectrum of a writer's work? My curious (nosy) nature means I err on the side of worthy."
While she always preferred The Hardy Boys to Nancy Drew, 
Comments
I don't know if it's ever an easy decision. Well, who knows, maybe for some, it is, if you just do it or not do it without thinking about it a whole lot. But if you have to think about it, there are the pros and cons you mention.
I've been in that situation, having been named literary trustee by Alice Sheldon, who wrote science fiction as "James Tiptree Jr." Stories she had sold but had not gone over with her editors I had to do the final revisions on. It was easy to know I had to do that, but hard to do. Stories that had not sold and had been retired, I agreed to let be published. I decided that if she had actually submitted something to someone, then at some point she had been satisfied with it. There was one story I knew she had intended to revise, but hadn't gotten to -- since she had submitted the existing version to a few places before giving up on it, I felt it was okay to publish under my rules. (I also personally like the story a lot, despite its problems.)
She had actually given me permission in her will to have anything left undone at her death finished by another writer. There was only one such story, a lengthy fragment (10,000 words). There was no indication of where the story was going, however, so I consulted with her agent and we agreed to let it stay buried.
There were also a lot of pieces she wrote before she became "Tiptree." I let a collection of poetry be published, mostly because she had assembled it so that it looked like she had at least thought about publishing it. One of these early stories was resurrected and submitted as by Tiptree (though not sold), but considerably rewitten, so I assume that the others were equally unsatisfactory to her.
So, anyway, if you do it right, it takes a lot of thought to guess at what's best for both writers and readers.
Posted by: Jeff Smith | December 1, 2009 1:17 AM
I found Jeff's comment interesting. It's an awesome responsibility to be a literary trustee. It sounds like he did a terrific job.
Posted by: Gail Farrelly | December 1, 2009 1:11 PM
My recollection is that we would never have had the delights of A Confederacy of Dunces had it not been for the persistence of John Kennedy Toole's mother, who was sure her deceased son had written something extraordinary. She was right.
Posted by: Dahlink | December 3, 2009 6:16 AM
Dahlink, you're right. the author's mother, Thelma Ducoing Toole, found the manuscript in his belongings after he committed suicide in 1969. Walker Percy took up the cause, too, and helped get the book published.
Posted by: Dave | December 3, 2009 11:49 AM