I just read a biography about Sylvia Plath by Janet Malcolm. Well, to be more accurate I should say it's a biography of Sylvia Plath's biographies. It's a fascinating read and is both about the life of Plath and the art of biography. The book picks up from the moment of Plath's death and tells of the story of the shaping of her legacy. It's a very self-aware book that raises issues of all biography and examine the role of bias in non-fiction. Malcolm asserts that it there is a shade of subjectivity in every written thing ever produced. The book is strongly put together and at times shines when Janet Malcolm's voice emerges from the page in a very natural and inviting prose style. On that note, plug aside and discussion commence!
One of the big questions that Malcolm investigates in the book regards the rights of the dead to privacy. The biography is altogether strange in that as you edge your way through, no clear portrait of Plath arises. She remains muddled and uncertain in our minds. Instead Malcolm shows us how Plath's legacy was put together after her death. She shows us all the petty interests of biographers and family members in shaping Sylvia Plath's place in history.
Malcolm doesn't shy away from the tough questions but she also doesn't answer them. At one point we discover that personal letters of Plath's have been published multiple times after her death. Should this be allowed? Those letters were filled with things that Plath only intended one other person to see, and her diaries were obviously only for herself? Should these things be published at all? Or if they are, should they be held back until no one is left alive who had an immediate connection with the writer?
These are tricky questions because letters and diaries obviously help create a more accurate picture of the deceased. Is it the biographer's job to take into account the feelings of their subject's family?
Of course the trickiness of the matter really only applies to people who died recently. Surely after two centuries no one could justify an argument not to publish the private writings of Thomas Jefferson for example. So when does privacy give way to history, when do letters become artifacts?
Do we owe any responsibility to the privacy of the dead? It is afterall, their contemporaries, who hold their legacy in our hands like a ball of clay.
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