The Betrayal of Writers

Joan Didion ("Notes to John"), John Paul II ("Very Much in Gods Hands"), and me ("Imperfect Strangers": a work in progress)

The text based image posted above is one that features a portion of the late Joan Didion's essay, After Henry. It is included in her book which has the same title.

As for my writing I wrote about this essay within a couple of posts on my blog, The Last Leaf Gardner, a venue where I've also discussed a number of Didion's other works.

I've identified and admired her work ever since being introduced to it in the 1980's.

However, her ultimate death (12-23-2021) is a topic I never wrote about — and I've certainly written about many topics — on my blog;

as well as in self-published books;

and for magazines and online publications.

The fact that I have not written a word about Didion's death, is, as she might've said, "a peculiar and poignant omission," especially because her works have had a profound impact on me.

Recently (April 22 2025) a posthumous book, Notes To John (whose content is mostly unedited copies of her diary entries that she evidently composed after she began seeing a psychiatrist in 1999), has been released.

The current controversy over this book is what has prompted me to once again write about situations relating to her.

Specifically this ongoing dispute is whether her private, unedited therapy notes should have been published after her death. The consensus of many sources is this:

"Critics argue it's an invasion of privacy, disrespects Didion's intentions, and potentially misrepresents her legacy. Supporters argue it provides insight into her life and writing process, and that she likely knew her work would eventually be available."

I can't presume to know to know if Notes To John, disrespects Didion's intentions, for I have no way of knowing what her intentions were, nor do I have a way of knowing if she "likely knew her work would eventually be available."

I suppose if she did not want these journal entries to be put into book format, she could have attached a statement to them indicating her wishes, but those involved with publishing Notes To John, might not have heeded her wishes, which would not have been the first time an author requested that in the event of their death, their work should not be made public.

After all, Pope John Paul II specifically instructed his personal secretary, Archbishop Stanislaw Dziwisz, to burn his personal notes after his death. It became public knowledge that this instruction was part of that pope's last will and testament, and Dziwisz was tasked with carrying it out.

However, Dziwisz ultimately decided not to destroy the notes, and they were later published in a book, despite the pope's wishes.

According to The Lubbock Avalance Journal, "One of the cardinal rules in the Catholic church: obedience to the pope. So it has come as a shock for many in the Catholic world that John Paul II's most trusted confidant has betrayed the beloved pontiff's last will and testament by publishing personal notes he wanted burned. The published notes, titled 'Very Much in God's Hands', contain a wide range of personal reflections on faith, life, and the Catholic Church. They include thoughts on controversial topics like celibacy and the sins of priests. The decision sparked controversy, with some criticizing Dziwisz for violating the pope's wishes and others praising him for preserving a valuable historical record. Some argued that the notes were of such historical importance that they had to be preserved. The debate also raised questions about the balance between individual privacy and the public's right to know, as well as the legal and ethical implications of respecting a deceased person's wishes. Some scholars argue that the notes, while personal, offer valuable insights into the pope's character and his approach to leadership. Others maintain that the publication was a betrayal of trust and an invasion of privacy."

The controversy over the publication of 'Very Much in God's Hands' was reminiscent of

Franz Kafka's wish, that all his unpublished works be destroyed after his death and that was not honored by his friend, Max Brod.

Just as "I can't presume to know to know if Notes To John, disrespects Didion's intentions, for I have no way of knowing what her intentions were, nor do I have a way of knowing if she 'likely knew her work would eventually be available,'" I don't know enough about the situations surrounding the publication of Pope John Paul II's or Franz Kafka's books, what I can say is I know the feeling of betrayal in having someone read writings that were not intended for them.

Once upon a time in the late 1990's I mailed one of my great-aunts who lived outside of New York (the state where I reside), a draft of a manuscript that I was struggling to complete. We subsequently talked about it on the phone, and though I asked her to destroy it in lieu of going to the expense of mailing it back to me, she held on to it.

Unbeknownst to me, she put it amongst her papers and attached a note to it stating, "In the event of my death, DO NOT READ."

I learned of this matter when a member of my family traveled to my great aunt's apartment after she died; discovered my manuscript, ignored my great aunt's request; and read my work.

The piece is about my journey in living with the consequences of being born with legal blindness as well as with the incurable, neurological disorder known as Neurofibromatosis (NF), if you aren't familiar with this condition, and would like to know about it, please refer to a post on my blog via this link: https://www.thelastleafgardener.com/2010/01/tis-true-my-form-is-something-odd.html

As for my work-in progress book, the content contains my observations about situations in our family that are related to this medical condition. Very little was known about NF during the time I was growing up which caused tensions among us.

I had tentatively titled my piece, The Inside Story.

Sadly the family member who went through my dearly departed great aunt's documents, and subsequently ignored the 'DO NOT READ' request then punished me.

She is the same person who, during a time when I was an elementary school child, gave me a Christmas gift which was a diary that had a lock.

Unbeknownst to me, she had a copy of the key to my diary and upon her reading it, reprimanded me to such an extent that I stopped writing down my feelings; and wished I knew another language, so if she (or anyone else) came upon my musings, they would be unable to decipher them.

However, learning foreign languages is not one of my strengths, so writing in another language has never been an option, but, nor is it an option to continue spinning my wheels and not make progress with my once titled The Inside Story.

As I've confessed, I've been working on this endeavor for a long time.

It's tentative title is now, Imperfect Strangers.

At this juncture, my endeavor continues to be a work in progress, for it has been interrupted countless times with setbacks in involving my undergoing major surgeries, due to consequences of having NF.

Be that as it may, I'm moving forward with this long standing book project, albeit very s-l-o-w-l-y.

Some years ago prior to the COVID 19 pandemics and its lock downs, I created a two minute forty one second video where I described my intent.

It is posted on my Vimeo and You Tube Channels and can be accessed via the following links:

As I complete my first post for Substack, we are not yet into the middle of the month of May, the month set aside for raising awareness about the consequences of living with NF and I hope by participating in this venue, I will attain a wider reach in terms of a readership audience.

Thanks for listening!