Bunuel
Literary critic: Often the heirs of a successful writer decide to publish the manuscripts and the letters the dead writer left behind, regardless of the merit of the work. However, many writers have manuscripts that they judge to be unworthy of publication and with which they would not like to be publicly associated even after they die. Hence a successful writer who decides not to publish a recently completed manuscript should destroy it immediately.
Which one of the following statements, if true, most calls into question the soundness of the literary critic’s advice?
(A) Some writers whose work becomes both popular and respected after they die received no literary recognition during their lifetimes.
(B) Writers who achieve a certain degree of fame can expect that some of their personal correspondence will become publicly available after they die.
(C) Most successful writers’ judgments of their recently completed work is unnecessarily harsh and is often later revised.
(D) Many posthumously published books would have been published by the author had the author lived.
(E) Some heirs of successful writers do not consider themselves qualified to judge the merits of a literary work.
EXPLANATION FROM Fox LSAT
This question, like many questions on the LSAT, should ideally be over before you reach the answer choices.
You must argue with the literary critic. If you can tell the literary critic why his argument is bogus, you’ve already won.
Like this: Let’s pretend I’m a successful writer of LSAT books. (Hey, I’m working on it!) And let’s say I write some LSAT explanations that I judge unworthy of publication. This definitely happens from time to time. And let’s say that after I die, Christine might be tempted to publish those subpar explanations, in order to take herself to Majorca. She’d be more than justified in doing this, in exchange for putting up with all my bullshit while I was alive. But let’s say I wanted to prevent this from happening, because I’m such a prima donna that I actually care about my reputation
even after I’m dead. OK. Here’s the literary critic’s solution: In order to avoid this risk to my precious posthumous reputation, the literary critic wants me to
immediately burn these explanations.
Wait.
Immediately burn? Immediately
burn?! Those are both a little extreme, don’t you think? Couldn’t I wait a little bit, instead of acting immediately? Or couldn’t I lock them in a safe, instead of torching them with lighter fluid?
The problem with this solution is that I’d never have a second chance; once the explanations were burned, I wouldn’t be able to get them back. What if I wished, later, to send them to my editor for polishing? What if I wanted to go through and edit or rewrite them myself? What if I simply put them away for a year, then came back to them with fresh eyes and said, “Hey, these actually don’t suck that bad after all”? None of these scenarios would be possible if all I had was a pile of ashes.
So the critic is an idiot for suggesting the nuclear option.
We’re asked to weaken the critic’s argument. Let’s see if we’ve already answered the question.
A) I don’t think this applies to the question at hand. The argument was about writers who are already successful. Even if it is true that some writers only gain acclaim after their deaths, the literary critic would say, “Yeah, I’m sure this happens from time to time, but Nathan already has a reputation, and we wouldn’t want to take the chance that **** explanations published after his death might tarnish that reputation. So let’s burn the bad explanations now.”
B) This wouldn’t weaken the argument at all. If this was true, the literary critic would say, “Yes, it’s true that some of Nathan’s correspondence will inevitably be published after his death, but it will be awful hard for these **** explanations to be published after we burn them.”
C) Yep. This points out the fact that burning the explanations is a decision from which there is no recovery. What if I’m just having a bad day when I want to burn the explanations? “I’m a terrible writer, I’m a terrible teacher, I want to kill myself, I’m going to burn these **** explanations…” What if tomorrow I am in a better mood, and decide that the explanations aren’t so bad after all? There won’t
be a tomorrow for these explanations if I burn them today. This is a great weakener.
D) This answer, using the word “many,” might not be about the **** explanations we’re concerned with. If this answer is true, the literary critic would say, “Well obviously, if Nathan died today, Christine would want to publish whatever book Nathan was working on today. It’s a great book! But if Nathan has completed something ****, he should burn it immediately so that Christine doesn’t publish it after he’s dead.”
E) This might strengthen the argument, and we were looking for a weakener.
Our answer is C, because it points out how stupid it would be to
burn something that I didn’t like today.