Why Harper Lee Kept Her Silence for 55 Years

Harper Lee has died only a few months after the publication of To Kill a Mockingbirds long-shelved prequel， Go Set a Watchman （2015）.1 This article， originally published in 2011， asks why Harper Lee was so burdened by her early success.

The professional lives of most novelists closely resemble2 each other. They write a novel； it is published； they embark on a round of publicity.3 They appear at literary festivals， where they garner a quarter of the audience of some television chef in the tent next door， and at signings in bookshops， with the aim of signing as much stock as possible.4

Through it all， the novelist attempts to remain amusing， affable5 and patient. Three years later， he will publish another novel， and the whole experience repeats itself. As Samuel Beckett wrote in Worstward Ho： “All of old. Nothing else ever. Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”6

For some writers， however， the need to try again， to fail again， hardly arises7. The extraordinary career—or perhaps non-career—of Harper Lee bears witness to8 a quite different way of conducting a writing life. She wrote one novel， an immediate classic and perhaps the best-selling novel of the 20th century， To Kill a Mockingbird. Since its publication in 1960， Lee has published no other book. A second novel， entitled The Long Goodbye， apparently came to an abrupt end on the day her agent，9 JP Lippincott， expressed an interest in her first. “Her pen froze10，” he said.

Lee， who turned 85 in 2011， has not been entirely absent from the public record since， and her neighbours in Monroeville， Alabama， wouldnt agree that she is a recluse， either.11 Politely refusing to talk to journalists since 1964 is not the same thing as withdrawing from society.12 Since that has been her policy， her agreeing to co-operate with a new literary biographer，13 Marja Mills， who claims to tell the true story behind her years of silence， is important and surprising news. Will this biography tell the whole truth？ Can anyone ever really know why an author falls silent—even the author herself？

Lee came from one of the 20th centurys richest literary schools， the American South.14 Work by Faulkner， Tennessee Williams and Flannery OConnor examined the Souths flavour of intense， self-regarding decorum and passionately defended injustice and violence.15 It is sometimes regarded as extraordinary that Nelle Harper Lee came from the same small town as another great Southern writer， Truman Capote16—that， indeed， they were neighbours as children. Some have gone as far as to speculate wildly that To Kill a Mockingbird might actually have been a near-collaboration between the pair， as Capotes documentary study In Cold Blood seems to have been.17

The idea that a coincidence of implausible proportions would be needed to explain the emergence of two such gifted writers from a small place ignores how different their style is.18 It also ignores the way in which writers encourage， criticise， develop each other by proximity19. That is true not just of Lee and Capote， but of Lee and the whole Southern school of novelists. She could hardly have predicted that she would quickly come to be seen as the epitome and climax of the grand Southern tradition.20

To Kill a Mockingbird is a great novel and， unusually， was quickly made into a great film （Gregory Peck and his family subsequently became close friends with Lee）.21 But then， everything stopped for Lees writing. She spoke in an early 1960s interview， the last she ever gave， of wanting “to leave some record of small-town， middle-class Southern life”， apparently thinking of the novels she wanted to write in the future.

What stays in the memory of To Kill a Mockingbird are the grand coups—Scout unknowingly deflecting a lynching， or the great moment when the Reverend Sykes， after the verdict，22 says to Scout： “Miss Jean Louise， stand up： your fathers passing.” But the rich texture of the novel comes from its loving delineation of the relationships and tensions in a small town.23 That is the direction she would have gone in， and what we have lost in her subsequent silence.

The novelist of social texture， of the quiet relationships between people， is perhaps one peculiarly vulnerable to the impact of fame.24 We have plenty of witnesses to Jane Austens personal modesty， the way in which she would hide her writing at anyones approach.25 A novelist who had become a celebrity would find it almost impossible to pursue their task of listening，26 of modest disappearance into the background， of observation. Some writers manage to tough it out； others find the weight of expectation impossible to manage.27

The cynic28 would say that Harper Lee， with a novel which still sells millions every year， over half a century after its publication， hardly needed to go on writing anyway. Would she have wanted her career to work out like this？ But writing is not like hedge-fund trading29. The author who voluntarily retires from writing， after having made a pile， is a rare creature； it is the strangest of facts about Shakespeare that he stopped writing， apparently of his free will， at the height of his artistic powers after The Tempest， and retired to Stratford.30

Much more common is the writer who is effectively destroyed by a single huge success. The burden of fame and acclaim weighs down particularly on the creative faculties.31 Ian McEwan32 has spoken of feeling， when he embarks on promotion of his books， like “an employee of his own former self”.

The task of balancing the awareness of past success with the necessary task of producing new work is not one that every writer can achieve. And， perhaps， these single huge successes are much harder to deal with when they come early on in a writers career， before they have learnt to， in Kiplings words， “treat the two impostors” of triumph and disaster “just the same”.33 Its striking that out of the four novelists， for instance， who have won the Booker Prize in the last 40 years with a first novel， none has so far managed to write a successful follow-up.34

Lee has succeeded in protecting herself over the last half-century， and living a life which is of her choosing. In a rare statement recently， a letter to Oprah Winfreys magazine， she suggested how out-of-touch with modern life she has become： “In an abundant society where people have laptops， cellphones， iPods and minds like empty rooms， I still plod along with books.”35 That detachment36 is， clearly， necessary to her. It is the paradox of the novel that it could not have been written by someone in love with literary fame； that the fame it achieved and deserved killed off any prospect of a succeeding masterpiece.37

1. To Kill a Mockingbird：《杀死一只知更鸟》，哈珀·李发表于1960年的长篇小说；long-shelved： 搁置已久的；prequel： 前传，前篇；Go Set a Watchman：《设立守望者》。

2. resemble： 类似，像。

3. embark on sth.： 开始做某事；a round of： 一连串的；publicity： 宣传。

4. 他们出现在文学节上，在那里他们招来的观众只有隔壁帐篷里电视大厨的四分之一多；他们出现在书店签售会上，以此尽可能多地卖出存货。garner： 获得，收集；a quarter of： 四分之一的；chef： 厨师；stock： 存货。

5. affable： 和蔼可亲的，友善的。

6. 正像塞缪尔·贝克特在《最糟糕，嗯》中写道：“都是老套，从无新意，屡试屡败。没关系。再试，再败。失败中有进步。”Samuel Beckett： 塞缪尔·贝克特（1906—1989），爱尔兰先锋派小说家、剧作家及诗人，20世纪最具影响力的荒诞剧作家；Worstward Ho：《最糟糕，嗯》，又译《每况愈下》，贝克特1983年散文集。

7. arise： 出现。

8. bear witness to： 证明。

9. abrupt： 突然的，唐突的；agent： 经纪人。

10. froze： 冻结，freeze的过去式。

11. be absent from： 缺席；Monroeville： 门罗维尔，美国阿拉巴马州一城市； recluse： 隐士，隐居者。

12. journalist： 新闻记者；withdraw from： 退出，离开。

13. co-operate with： 与……合作；literary biographer： 文学传记作家。

14. literary school： 文学派别；American South： 美国南方文学（Literature of the American South），指美国南北战争后出现在南方的一种严肃而带有悲剧性的文学流派。

15. 福克纳、田纳西·威廉斯以及弗兰纳里·奥康纳的作品，审视了美国南方恪守强烈的利己主义礼节以及为不公和暴力激情辩护的特征。Faulkner： 福克纳（1897—1962），美国作家，诺贝尔文学奖得主，代表作为《喧嚣和骚动》；Tennessee Williams： 田纳西·威廉斯（1911—1983），20世纪美国戏剧三大家之一，代表作为《欲望号街车》；Flannery OConnor： 弗兰纳里·奥康纳（1925—1964），美国作家、散文家，常常以南方哥特风格写作；self-regarding： 利己主义的，自我维护的；decorum： 礼节；passionately： 强烈地，激昂地；injustice： 不公。

16. Truman Capote： 杜鲁门·卡波特（1924—1984），美国小说家、编剧及剧作家，代表作品有《蒂凡尼的早餐》、《冷血》等。

17. 有人甚至妄加猜测，《杀死一只知更鸟》有可能就是两人之间近似合作的作品，因为卡波特的纪实研究《冷血》看起来就是这样的成果。go as far as to： 至于，甚至；speculate： 推测；wildly： 轻率地，胡乱地；near-collaboration： 近似合作；documentary： 纪实的。

18. coincidence： 巧合；implausible： 难以置信的，不像真实的；proportion： 比例；emergence： 出现。

19. proximity： 靠近，亲近。

20. epitome： 典型，象征；climax： 高潮；grand： 著名的，杰出的。

21. Gregory Peck： 格里高利·派克（1916—2003），20世纪40年代到60年代美国著名电影明星，因出演《杀死一只知更鸟》而获得1962年奥斯卡最佳男主角；subsequently： 后来。

22. grand coup： 大胆的行为，猛烈的一击；unknowingly： 不知不觉地； deflect： 阻止（小说中主人公律师阿提克斯·芬奇的女儿斯科特阻止了当地白人对黑人罗宾逊滥用私刑）； lynching： 私刑；reverend： 教士，牧师；verdict： 裁判，裁决。

23. texture： 本质，结构；delineation： 描述；tension： 张力，紧张。

24. peculiarly： 尤其地，特别地；vulnerable to： 易受……的侵害； fame： 名声，名气。

25. Jane Austen： 简·奥斯汀（1775—1817），英国小说家，代表作有《傲慢与偏见》、《理智与情感》等；modesty： 谦虚，羞怯；at anyones approach： 一旦有任何人靠近。

26. celebrity： 名人；pursue： 继续从事。

27. tough it out： 坚持到底，挺过去； weight： 负担，重荷。

28. cynic： 愤世嫉俗者。

29. hedge-fund trading： 对冲基金交易。

30. 在赚了大钱之后自愿封笔的作者是少见的异类；莎士比亚最奇怪之处就是他在自己艺术创作力的巅峰期—— 《暴风雨》之后，自愿放弃写作，退隐到斯特拉特福德老家去了。retire from： 退出；make a pile： 发财，赚钱；at the height： 在……的顶峰或鼎盛时期；artistic： 艺术的；The Tempest：《暴风雨》；Stratford： 斯特拉特福德，英国东部的一个镇，莎士比亚的故乡。

31. acclaim： 称赞；weigh down on： 在……上使负重担；creative faculty： 创作能力。

32. Ian McEwan： 伊恩·麦克尤恩（1948— ），英国小说家及编剧，代表作品有《阿姆斯特丹》、《赎罪》等。

33. 然而，也许在作家事业的初期，那些早早来到的巨大成就更难处理，因为他们还没有学会吉卜林所说的“要同等地对待‘成功和‘灾难这两个骗子”。Kipling： 吉卜林（1865—1936），英国记者、诗人及小说家，1907年获诺贝尔文学奖，代表作品有《丛林之书》、《如果》等；impostor： 骗子；triumph： 成功。

34. striking： 惊人的，突出的；Booker Prize： 布克奖，是当今英语小说界最重要的奖项，其获奖作品现在几乎已经成了最好看的英文小说的代名词；follow-up： 后继作品。

35. Oprah Winfrey： 奥普拉·温弗瑞（1954— ），美国著名女脱口秀主持人；out-of-touch： 不接触，不联系；abundant： 富足的；plod along： 沉重缓慢地走。

36. detachment： 超然，分离。

37. 这本身就是一个悖论——小说不可能被一个热衷于文学名望的人写出来，而小说所带来的和其应得的名望抹杀了任何后继杰作的可能性。paradox： 悖论，自相矛盾的事；kill off： 消灭；prospect： 可能性；succeeding： 随后的，以后的；masterpiece： 杰作。