Perhaps it’s greed. Or is it greed laced with betrayal? Certainly it’s unseemly. As their careers draw to a close, British authors have developed a habit of stuffing their collected notebooks into a rucksack, hopping to America on Virgin and flogging their life’s jottings to the highest bidder. In 2006 Salman Rushdie accepted an undisclosed sum from Emory University in Atlanta for a collection of papers said to include two unpublished novels and the ‘Fatwa Diaries’ written during his decade on the run from Islamic executioners. The same university handed over $600,000 for a collection of Ted Hughes’s papers in 2003. The University of Texas has done deals with Arnold Wesker and Julian Barnes, the latter reportedly for $200,000. And David Hare is the latest to come to a lucrative arrangement with an American institute of education.
Back in the 1990s, after the death of Graham Greene, the competition for the archives of prestigious British authors began to get serious. The winner of the bidding war for the Greene archive was the University of Texas in Austin, which in 1995 paid £1 million to Greene’s nephew for a collection of papers, letters and annotated books. Ever since, British writers have been casting avaricious glances across the Atlantic.
Does it matter, this mass-migration of scribbles? It certainly does to Andrew Motion who has argued himself hoarse urging British authors to deposit their papers with British institutions. And why not? Prosperous and celebrated authors should set aside personal gain in favour of patriotism and donate their papers, for free, to the country that reared and helped to enrich them. And rather than congratulating themselves on their altruism, these writers should do star jumps and sing for joy that such an easy means exists of discharging their debt of honour.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in