Rights of the Dead

Urgelt — Fri, 18 Jan 2008 06:23:16 GMT

It is unfortunate that Dmitri's sensitivity to criticisms of his father's published works might influence his decision. His father released his published works "into the wild," and their merits as seen in the public, or lack of them, are and should be beyond Vladamir or Dmitri's influence. I would ask Dmitri to excise this issue entirely from his decision; it's simply not relevant.

Not so for the Laura manuscript, which, by conscious choice of the author, was not released into the wild.

To be explicit: Vladamir's desire to write, and his desire to release written works into the public eye, did not always converge.

The situation is analogous to writing a letter addressed to another person which the writer never intends to send. Suppose such a letter, written solely to serve the writer's personal needs, were to be wrenched out of the hands of the writer and shown to the person to whom it was addressed?

This is the heart of the matter. Not all of the things we think should be spoken; not all of the art we create is for others. Breaking down that line is a violation of privacy.

Nabokov's fame, and his eager audience, are not factors to which I give weight. What does it matter how many people desire to invade a single person's privacy? It's still a violation, and if we construct a society upon such violations, the world will be the poorer for it.

Unless a person loses all rights to privacy upon death?

This is a theme several science fiction authors have explored over the years: a machine is invented which permits people in the present day to view the past, without limits, without restriction. Lost literature and poetry are recovered. Extinct languages are studied. Academic arguments concerning historical events are settled. Famous people are ogled as they urinate. A ghoulish audience exists for the presentation of Spanish Inquisition torture and death, or the cruelest Roman sports, or the bloodiest warfare across the ages. No thought is given to the propriety of using the device; its mere existence justifies its use. We can, ergo we do.

Who could resist such a thing, or would want to? We are endlessly curious about other humans, and here is a vast sea of them who are utterly defenseless against our prying eyes. But in using it, we would become ghouls.

This apocalyptic vision is also analogous to the Nabokov question. Dmitri holds a very specific sort of time machine in his hands, and it is capable of perpetrating a very specific violation of his dead father's privacy.

Burn it. That's my advice - though it pains me to offer it, because I value V.N.'s published works, and I, like many, are deeply curious about the manuscript. But we can not view it without violating Vladamir's privacy. ISuch a violation will not ennoble the violated; and it certainly will not ennoble us.

The Spectator

Rights of the Dead