On Harper Lee’s new book: Should To Kill a Mockingbird have a sequel?

BY: Henry Matthew Alt • February 4, 2015 • Literature

Harp­er Lee. Pho­to cred­it: Tru­man Capote, 1960; pub­lic domain
I

t is very big news how­ev­er you think of it: On July 14, Harp­er Lee will pub­lish her first nov­el since To Kill a Mock­ing­bird. Called Go Set a Watch­man, it is set twen­ty years lat­er, in the 1950s, and is told from the point of view of the grown-up Scout Finch in the midst of the Civ­il Rights Move­ment.

Lee said, in a state­ment released by Harp­er (the pub­lish­er): “In the mid-1950s, I com­plet­ed a nov­el called Go Set a Watch­man. It fea­tures the char­ac­ter known as Scout as an adult woman, and I thought it a pret­ty decent effort. My edi­tor, who was tak­en by the flash­backs to Scout’s child­hood, per­suad­ed me to write a nov­el (what became To Kill a Mock­ing­bird) from the point of view of the young Scout.

I was a first-time writer, so I did as I was told. I hadn’t real­ized it [the orig­i­nal book] had sur­vived, so was sur­prised and delight­ed when my dear friend and lawyer Ton­ja Carter dis­cov­ered it. After much thought and hes­i­ta­tion, I shared it with a hand­ful of peo­ple I trust and was pleased to hear that they con­sid­ered it wor­thy of pub­li­ca­tion. I am hum­bled and amazed that this will now be pub­lished after all these years.

So this is not a new nov­el but the ear­li­er ver­sion of what became To Kill a Mock­ing­bird. It is a 60-year-old man­u­script that will be pub­lished as is, with zero edits. So no one is tam­per­ing with Lee’s words. Nor was it writ­ten with the intent of being a sequel, but it was what she orig­i­nal­ly intend­ed the sto­ry to be. To call it a “sequel” may be a bit of a mis­nomer.

•••

Still, not every­one is excit­ed by the news. E! Online and Jezebel cau­tion us to “be sus­pi­cious.” Madeleine Davies explains:

Harp­er Lee’s sis­ter Alice Lee, who fero­cious­ly pro­tect­ed Harp­er Lee’s estate (and per­son) from unwant­ed out­side atten­tion as a lawyer and advo­cate for decades, passed away late last year, leav­ing the intense­ly pri­vate author (who her­self is report­ed­ly in ill health) vul­ner­a­ble to peo­ple who may not have her best inter­ests at heart.

Lee had a stroke in 2007, is almost blind and deaf, and even her attor­ney Ms. Carter con­cedes that she may not always ful­ly under­stand what she is sign­ing. Gawk­er had report­ed a lot of this last July, when an “unau­tho­rized” biog­ra­phy of Lee, writ­ten by Mar­ja Mills, was pub­lished.

When the news came out, a few folks on Twit­ter were sus­pi­cious that, only three months after Lee’s fierce­ly pro­tec­tive sis­ter died, a six­ty-year-old lost and unpub­lished man­u­script would out of nowhere, all of a sud­den, shaz­a­am, mag­i­cal­ly be found.

Sei­ja Rankin says: “[I]t’s hard to deny the some­what sud­den release of this sequel does­n’t quite fit the pat­tern of the life that Harp­er Lee has led for the past half-cen­tu­ry. It’s impor­tant, to us at least, to bal­ance a book’s inter­est with the lega­cy and wish­es of its author. Espe­cial­ly when that same author once told an audi­ence, dur­ing a rare pub­lic appear­ance, that “ ‘It’s bet­ter to be silent than to be a fool.’ ”

•••

Well, Go Set a Watch­man may not exact­ly make Harp­er Lee look like a “fool.” That might be the self-doubt of a reclu­sive author talk­ing, or the jad­ed­ness of a pub­lic that has learned to take a low view of sequels. (One per­son on Face­book quipped that the main char­ac­ter of the new nov­el will be Jar Jar Radley.)

I sus­pect that Lee was unwill­ing to pub­lish any­thing after Mock­ing­bird for two rea­sons: (1) she was, as she once said, more like Boo Radley than Scout Finch, and pub­lic atten­tion did not suit her; (2) she knew that noth­ing else she ever wrote, how­ev­er good, would be To Kill a Mock­ing­bird. She was pub­lic­i­ty shy and wrote a book that is just impos­si­ble to match.

But then, one does ask: Why a sequel? Would that not, all the more, invite unfair com­par­i­son? And isn’t To Kill a Mock­ing­bird so good that it stands on its own and does not need to be added to?

Lee says—and giv­en the state of her health, some will won­der whether the words are entire­ly her own—that she was pleased her friends thought it wor­thy of pub­li­ca­tion. Well, okay. Not know­ing who those friends are, one can­not speak for their abil­i­ty to judge lit­er­ary mer­it. Go Set a Watch­man will sell, and sell big. It will do so for no oth­er rea­son than the fact that Harp­er Lee wrote it, and she has pub­lished noth­ing else for fifty-five years, and her only oth­er book is a beloved and unspeak­ably beau­ti­ful clas­sic. So some will ask if that is real point here: that a sequel, a new book by Harp­er Lee, will make some peo­ple a lot of mon­ey. (Minus what­ev­er goes to med­ical care.) Peo­ple wor­ry them­selves a lot about the moti­va­tions of oth­ers.

But then, all this would have hap­pened any­way, after Lee dies. Hem­ing­way’s unpub­lished nov­els, and Nabokov’s unfin­ished Orig­i­nal of Lau­ra, all came out regard­less of their mer­it as lit­er­a­ture or the wish­es of the author. One can only guess what future titles we may or may not see that were writ­ten by J.D. Salinger. Many shud­der to think of it.

No one wants to see Harp­er Lee tak­en advan­tage of, or her true wish­es manip­u­lat­ed, due to her inabil­i­ty to decide for her­self. (If that has hap­pened. Who knows?) But nei­ther can any­one doubt that the unpub­lished works of famous writ­ers end up find­ing their way into print any­way once they are no longer with us. Like it or not, that is what hap­pens when a famous writer is dead, or can no longer make deci­sions for her­self. Some­thing she may not oth­er­wise have want­ed pub­lished, is.

But is it moral? Is it right? I don’t know. Whether or not Go Set a Watch­man has any mer­it as lit­er­a­ture, it will cer­tain­ly be of val­ue to lit­er­ary schol­ars who study the ori­gin of great fic­tion. This is, after all, not a sequel so much as it is the first ver­sion of what would become To Kill a Mock­ing­bird. Lee’s edi­tor sim­ply con­vinced her to expand on the flash­backs and pub­lish them as their own nov­el.

Peo­ple love to argue over this ques­tion too: whether one ought to pub­lish some­thing against a famous author’s true wish­es, just because the author was famous and, what­ev­er else it ben­e­fits, it also ben­e­fits schol­ar­ship. I do not doubt that argu­ment will be hashed out again in the months before and after this new book comes out.

It is a com­plex ques­tion and I have nev­er ful­ly made up my own mind about it.

•••

Megan Gar­ber, writ­ing in The Atlantic, sounds an ele­giac note. The title of her arti­cle is “Harp­er Lee: The Sad­ness of a Sequel.” She asks: Why? and, Why now?

Per­haps it real­ly was as sim­ple as a man­u­script lost and recov­ered, serendip­i­tous­ly for all involved. Per­haps all those doubts Lee had pre­vi­ous­ly expressed about the pub­li­ca­tion of a sec­ond nov­el were mere­ly the results of the nat­ur­al, but not invin­ci­ble, anx­i­ety that comes with that infa­mous­ly fraught project. Per­haps Lee regret­ted hav­ing signed over her copy­right of Mock­ing­bird, and want­ed some­thing else she could call, in the fullest sense, tru­ly hers. Per­haps Lee, approach­ing her 90s, fig­ured that age will afford her what her attempts at a shel­tered life could not: the easy relief of silence.

Or per­haps Lee, alive but ill, is being treat­ed the way so many deceased authors are: as ideas rather than peo­ple, as brands and busi­ness­es rather than messy col­lec­tions of doubts and desires.

We won’t know. We can’t know. All we will have, in the end, is a book, a thing that will raise as many ques­tions as it answers. And, for bet­ter or for worse, that is prob­a­bly just how Harp­er Lee … would pre­fer things.

Gar­ber is right, in the main. We can ask ques­tions, we can spec­u­late, we can rehash old argu­ments about whether this kind of thing is worth it or bet­ter left undone. But what it all comes down to—at least for right now—is a book, and one that only a few have read. All we know, for sure, is the title and a few details of plot and set­ting. The rest is silence, until July.

There will be plen­ty of time, then, to talk about its mer­its, or lack of them, and whether this ought to have been done.

It is a great title. It comes from Isa­iah 21:3–6, where the prophet com­pares his pain over the cap­tiv­i­ty in Baby­lon to the pain of a woman in child­birth:

There­fore are my loins filled with pain: pangs have tak­en hold upon me, as the pangs of a woman that tra­vaileth: I was bowed down at the hear­ing of it; I was dis­mayed at the see­ing of it. My heart pant­ed, fear­ful­ness affright­ed me: the night of my plea­sure hath he turned into fear unto me. Pre­pare the table, watch in the watch­tow­er, eat, drink: arise, ye princes, and anoint the shield. For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Go, set a watch­man, let him declare what he seeth.

Lee’s only book until now, To Kill a Mock­ing­bird, is so incred­i­bly and aston­ish­ing­ly good that there is no way any­thing else she wrote could equal it. And no one should expect her to have done that. So if that is what peo­ple go in want­i­ng or expect­ing, they will be dis­ap­point­ed. They would be set­ting them­selves up for it. And it is a false expec­ta­tion in any case.

Go Set a Watch­man will be its own book. That is all it can be or should be. So I am con­tent to with­hold judg­ment on it until I read it, and hope that there are some nice sur­pris­es wait­ing for me there. But even a dud can not ruin To Kill a Mock­ing­bird.

Still, I can not wait until July.


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