I’ve been on this thought-train since I read Ariel, which is a collection of Sylvia Plath’s poetry that was published after she died.
To publish something posthumously means to publish it after a person has passed away, and it is a pretty common concept for a lot of popular authors. Life is messy, and we often end up leaving it in the middle of things. Many famous authors like Agatha Christie, Michael Crichton, Jane Austen, etc. have left behind manuscripts that were later published after their death.
In the literary world, there is a lot of conversation and differing ideas surrounding posthumous publication. While some believe an author’s work (especially a rather famous one) should be published posthumously to add more of their work into the world, others find that this is a breach of privacy and trust if an author has not specified that this is their wish.
In the instance of Ariel, Sylvia Plath left the manuscript neatly arranged on her desk, which seemed like a good indication that she was okay with its being published. However, her husband ended up editing and rearranging the manuscript before publishing, which was very controversial at the time. Many people felt that as Plath’s last work, and considering she seemed to have ordered it intentionally, it should have been published without his interference.
It is a good idea to note here that they had worked together before, so this interference wasn’t uncommon. More than that, it would have been commonplace for an editor to rearrange or remove some of her weaker poems before publishing her novel, and she may have even expected them to do so. Regardless, the outcry from readers did eventually lead to Ariel: The Restored Edition, where we eventually saw all the poems Plath had left behind in their original order.
Another common example of semi-controversial posthumous publication is Harper Lee’s Go Set a Watchman. This novel was initially the basis for To Kill a Mockingbird, but was published later as a separate novel entirely. She had brought Go Set a Watchman to a publisher first and was directed to flesh out Scout’s childhood further while redirecting the focus from Atticus to the children. This context implies that Go Set a Watchman was a sort of first draft to To Kill a Mockingbird, and this is further evidenced by the fact that Lee never tried to publish Go Set a Watchman after publishing To Kill a Mockingbird.
Although her intent seemed clear to many, Go Set a Watchman was still published, and actually changes some meanings behind scenes in To Kill a Mockingbird. Because this may have been a first-draft situation, it can be argued that Lee never intended for this additional context to be given. It’s reasonable to assume that she wanted the message in TKAM to be the final message. Similar to the first edition of Plath’s Ariel, many argue that it’s unfair to edit or publish a work that essentially changes the author’s meaning or intent.
This is only one argument that many have against posthumous publication. Another argument is that the quality of unfinished manuscripts is often significantly diminished. This is pretty common sense, I think. An unfinished manuscript would be an author’s first draft, and many author’s don’t even take a manuscript to their publisher until they’re multiple drafts in. Then, after their own revisions, the document is further revised by an editor to become the final, polished draft.
We can look at Michael Crichton’s Pirate Latitudes or Agatha Christie’s Postern of Fate (or several of her later works, really) for examples of books that took a sharp downturn in quality with the posthumous publication.
Crichton was well known for his thoroughly researched science fiction novels. If you look at the back of many of his books, you’ll see pages-long bibliographies that cite where he took much of his information from. Because his novels required so much dedication and research, the idea of publishing an unfinished manuscript is almost inconceivable. However, that’s what happened with Pirate Latitudes.
Without getting too much into detail, this novel is much less rigorous in research and detail than many of his other works. Not so coincidentally, it’s also much less plausible. One review says that they think many people dislike this novel because it’s so different from his other works, not simply because it’s more poorly written. I think if Crichton himself had given his seal of approval, then maybe we could make that argument. The idea that this book was published after his death and is vastly different from his other works makes it feel like it was less intentional on the author’s part and more likely a lot of incompetence on the publisher’s part.
(As a side note, one Goodreads review who gave this book four out of five stars describes it as, “hot and heavy, bodice-ripping womanizing”… Is that supposed to be a good thing? Count me out, thanks.)
Aside from the author’s intent and quality issues, there is also the issue of these posthumous publications being scene as “cash grabs”. Many of these manuscripts are published under the guise of sharing more of an author’s work, but in reality they’re simply a way for the publishing company to continue making money. If there is no specific instruction or intent from an author to have a work published after they die (some authors do leave instructions to have specific people or companies finish their work), then it seems fair to assume that they had no intent for the public to see whatever they left behind. At least, not in the state that they left it.
Another author who had work published posthumously, Jane Austen, brings us to some of the arguments in favor of posthumous publication. Both Northanger Abbey and Persuasion were published posthumously, and these two novels are a great example of both sides of this argument. Northanger Abbey, while not a bad book by any means, was Austen’s first novel that actually failed to be published initially. It was only published after she had gained some fame for her writing (and after she could no longer write anything more to be published). This novel is a good example of a book that isn’t necessarily up to the caliber of the rest of Austen’s work, and publishing it after her death adds a novel to her repertoire that may lower the good standing of the others.
In contrast, Persuasion is largely seen as one of Austen’s superior novels. It is often commended right along with Pride & Prejudice and Sense & Sensibility, and it has had many adaptations to boot. This is an example of a book that many are resoundingly grateful for having been published posthumously, which credits the argument in favor of posthumous publications.
Another favorable example is Kurt Vonnegut’s Armageddon in Retrospect. While not hailed as one of his best works, it is a collection of previously unpublished short stories and essays about peace and war that gave more insight into Vonnegut’s other writing. Personally, reading this book really helped me understand a lot of the satirical tones used in Vonnegut’s other writing. In general, it was fairly well-received.
With the arguments for or against posthumous writing, there are some solutions people have offered to help honor the author’s original intentions. For example, if an author has explicitly stated they don’t want their work published posthumously, we should honor that above all else. Terry Pratchett famously had his unfinished work destroyed because he did not want it published posthumously. Considering author’s are the creators of their work, and that they don’t truly owe this work to us, honoring their wishes in death is the only morally correct option. Even if it means we won’t ever reach a conclusion to something like Game of Thrones.
Another alternative proposed if an author hasn’t explicitly stated whether they want their unfinished work published is to title it as a “draft” or “notes” from the author. Some sort of inclusion that ensures people know this was not the author’s final, polished work would help distinguish a posthumous novel from a regularly published one. Something like this would have helped in the Crichton situation, rather than allow Pirate Latitudes to be published and potentially besmirch Crichton’s good standing. This would also help to ensure the books are published for the readers and fans, rather than as a cash grab to draw more people in.
Personally, I agree with the two solutions proposed above. In general, I disagree with publishing an author’s unfinished work unless they’ve given explicit consent to do so. Even publishing it as a draft or as notes seems to cross the line, but it at least helps to ensure the integrity of the author and their work.
I think it’s best to let people rest in death and appreciate what they did create while they were alive than to try to Frankenstein their work after they’re gone.
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