Burn it.

This isn't some historical manuscript whose ownership or provenance is long since forgotten. This is the work of an artist whom the world has cone to respect. That respect was built on his finished works of art. His novels are the public culmination of the very private and personal process that is writing. Think of it as the difference between showing off your newborn son and people demanding to see a video of the birth.

The other issue here is the resposibility of the son to carry out his father's wishes. So now I think to myself, what would it take for me to blatently defy the wishes of my father whe he dies one day.

1) Competancy: Was he in his right mind when he asked that they be burned? Everything I've read suggests that Nabakov was.

2) The well-being of the son - My father's greatest desire and purpose in life is to care for his family. If at sometime in the future, I desperately needed money for health care or housing, and going against his dying wish could truly help me, he would expect and want me to do it. Again, nothing I've read suggests Nabakov's son is in dire financial straights.

3) The well-being of society - Say my father was not a good man, but still a smart man. Before he died, he discovered a cure for cancer but requested that it be burned so that no one may ever use it. It is obvious that the benefits to the world in this extreme case outway the wishes of my dead father. In Nabakov's case, what is the benefit to society if the son goes against his father's wishes? Some literary buffs are thrilled. New and more obscure dissertations may be written. But there will be no concrete benefit to the world.

Item 3 actually suggests a possible solution by which everyone could be happy. I don't know the market for Laura, but if someone was to pay a substantial amount of money for it's release, and the money was then given to a good cause for the bnefit of mankind, the son can still honor the spirit of his father while not following his wishes. The literary and academic community gets their material and many people's lives may be changed for the better by the family's philanthropy.

But do your desires outweight the rights of the author?

I would be thrilled if you signed your paycheck over to me, but I have no right to demand it or take it from you without your permission.

I would love to get my hands on Laura, that doesn't me I should.

In the case of Kafka, yes, our desires do outweigh his rights.

If another Kafka parable came to light today, would we be obligated to perform the destruction that Max Brod could not make himself do?