Showing posts with label plagiarism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plagiarism. Show all posts

Friday, July 29, 2011

Heyer Bio Teaser and ARPF CFP



A literary plagiarism allegation from the 1950s is set to be given its first detailed airing in a new biography of much-loved novelist Georgette Heyer.

Georgette Heyer: Biography of a Bestseller by Jennifer Kloester (Wm Heinemann, hb, £20, October) reveals the outrage felt by the queen of witty regency romances at the obvious similarities between Barbara Cartland's historical novel Knave of Hearts and her own youthful story These Old Shades (published in 1926), when they were brought to her attention in 1950. (Page)
More details here.

Association for Research in Popular Fictions

Researching Popular Fiction: Method, Practice and Resonant Themes
Saturday 19th and Sunday 20th November 2011
Liverpool John Moores University

Call for papers: We welcome papers considering popular narratives or cultural practices across any media (film, television, graphic novel, radio, print, cartoons and other narrative art, online), historical period and genre.

Topics for this conference might include, but are not limited to:

Empirical, on-line, ethnographic and observational data gathering, archives, quantitative/quantitative data analysis, genre & formula, historical reading experience, reading and storytelling, fandom and cult media, constructing and locating the audience, thematic clusters, book clubs and reading groups, retailing and publishing, transmedia narrative, online discussions and communities, interactive fictions, nineteenth-century serialisation, the bestseller, children’s fictions, online and multiplayer gaming, advertising and narrative, radio drama, the stage and performative narrative, long-format television.

Calls for specific panels will be announced via the ARPF website.

Please contact: Nickianne Moody, convenor for ARPF, Liverpool John Moores University, Dean Walters Building, St James Road,
Liverpool L1 7BR, U.K. by 1st September 2011
Email arpfmail@yahoo.co.uk
And there's some background information here.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

A Small Ethical Problem


The problem of plagiarism's being discussed again in romance-land (because of something cross-posted at Dear Author and the Smart Bitches). I don't want to get into a discussion of the details of what constitutes plagiarism (anyone who's interested in our views on that can take a look at the posts Sarah and I wrote last year, and there's discussion of it on both the DA and SB threads). No, what I want is some help in deciding what to do when one discovers an instance of what one thinks might be plagiarism.

In a romance I was working on (written in 1979, not by any author with an online presence and no-one at all famous, just in case anyone is worried) I noticed a couple of sentences which contain significant fragments of text that are identical, or near identical, to parts of sentences in the current edition of the online Encyclopedia Britannica, at least the parts of it I could read. The trouble is that access to the content of the EB is restricted, which is why matching phrases come up via Google but I couldn't guarantee I'd be able to provide entirely accurate transcriptions of the relevant sections of the EB passages in question. I haven't had time yet to find an edition of the EB which would have been available in the 1970s, but I've no reason to suspect that the EB copied details from a romance novel, nor could the similarities be accidental, so I'm working on the assumption that that part of the EB hasn't changed much in later editions. I'll double check all that before I take any action, which is why I'm not including the name of the author here, or quoting the passages in question. I don't want to fall into the ethical problem of wrongly accusing someone of plagiarism, after all.

No, my ethical problem is about what I should do if, as I expect it will, the text in the older, paper copy of the EB matches that of the modern, online EB. I'll give a bit of an overview of the problem, to give a bit of context and describe the possible extent/severity of it.

Some sentence fragments in the novel which matched those in the EB were describing technical aspects of a building that the heroine is visiting (and is the building described in the EB), but other, non-technical parts could certainly have been changed and put into the author's own words and she didn't do that. I noticed the problem a while ago, and I was troubled by it, but as Nora Roberts wrote on the thread at Dear Author, "I’d need more than one sentence to get my dander up." Then the question of plagiarism was raised again at Dear Author and the Smart Bitches. As a result of the discussions there, I went back to the novel to take a closer look and last night I came across another couple of sentences with the same problem, just a few pages after the ones I'd already found. That's when I really felt I couldn't let it slide.

Enough little changes had been made to make me suspect that the author deliberately reworked the sentences in order to avoid full sentences of word-for-word copying. I suppose it's conceivable that she copied the sentences verbatim from the EB (though she'd have had to just copied out those specific sentences and none of the rest of the article for that to be credible), left them for a while in a pile of papers without annotating the source, then came across them and thought she'd already changed them enough to make them hers, and at that point reworked them slightly. Possible, but not very likely.

Maybe she thought she'd changed them enough for it not to be plagiarism. As we all know, though, using someone else's words while sticking in or taking out a few commas, changing the word order slightly and/or inserting a couple of your own words in between chunks of someone else's, is still plagiarism. I wonder if the whole thing might have been the result of the mistaken "it's OK if you copy from non-fiction in order to get the details accurate" mindset. Clearly, that's wrong. It's still plagiarism, and authors of non-fiction (as I know from personal experience, since that's what I write) can spend a lot of time trying to polish their prose.

I don't want to boycott the author completely because (a) the book has a very nice example of legitimate intertextuality (b) I'd spent a considerable amount of time working on that before I noticed the illegitimate kind (i.e. plagiarism) and I'd rather not have wasted all that time, (c) I haven't come across another example of the legitimate intertextuality quite like this one, so it wouldn't be easy to find another example and use that instead and (d) the sentences containing plagiarised fragments make up a very, very small proportion of the whole novel.

However, if the fragments of text match those in the EB, what the author did was wrong, and I don't want to let plagiarism pass uncriticised, so although I want to keep in what I've written about the interesting and good bit of the novel, I feel I should acknowledge the big problem in that other section, even though it's not directly relevant to the issue I wanted to write about. I'm currently favouring a compromise solution, which is to footnote the problem. Or would it just be sufficient for me to name and shame the author by posting the passages here, on the blog? Should I boycott her work completely? If I do, should I also boycott all romances which are problematic in other ways (e.g. racist novels or novels written by authors who've done something highly unethical)? Does exposing the problem in this way raise awareness of plagiarism, whereas boycotting an old text and refusing to write about it at all would be a meaningless gesture given that the book has pretty much already been forgotten by most people? Does raising the issue by giving specific instance of it in the romance genre make the genre as a whole look bad? I don't think so, since all kinds of genres, including literary fiction, have had plagiarism scandals.

What do you think?



The painting is of a fresco by Raphael in the Vatican, and is titled "The School of Athens." Many of the figures depict famous philosophers. I found the photo at Wikimedia Commons.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Ask What You Can Do For the Ferrets!

We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom - symbolising an end, as well as a beginning - signifying renewal, as well as change [...] ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.

John F Kennedy at his inauguration in Washington on January 20 1961.

It may seem like overstating the case to compare plagiarism to the enemies of world peace, but in the Republic of Letters, plagiarism is the act of annexing another author's words. As Paul Tolmé, one of the authors whose words made their way into a Cassie Edwards novel, recently said:
Plagiarism victimizes writers. It betrays the trust of readers. It tarnishes the craft of writing.

But there is another victim here that has been lost in the discussion: the ferrets.
I hope that all the discussions that we, as a community of readers and authors, have been having recently about the issue will indeed be "a beginning - signifying renewal." I hope there is now greater understanding of what plagiarism is and why plagiarising from either fiction or non-fiction sources is wrong. I also hope that authors won't become overcautious, censoring themselves out of fear of being accused of plagiarism, because as Eve Gray says
All writers take over stuff from previous writers, incorporate it, allude to it, transform it. The essence is transformation. It is difficult to define the boundaries, but in the hands of a good writer, the borrowing becomes transformed into something new
And if you feel moved to do something positive for those victimised ferrets, you can join Nora Roberts in doing so.

[Edited to add: the Smart Bitches and their readers have now met Nora's challenge, so the Smart Bitches are now suggesting some other charities, related to topics described in Cassie Edwards's novels, which might appreciate donations.]

The picture of a black-footed ferret is from Wikipedia.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Publish and be damned: Incorrect Use of Source Material in Fiction


"Publish and be damned."
Duke of Wellington 1769-1852: replying to Harriette Wilson's blackmail threat, c1825; attributed (OED online)

I'm applying the Duke's words to a rather different situation, but they seem apt. Any author who uses source material incorrectly, and is discovered to have done so, is liable to get into a lot of trouble. However, although some types of usage are very clearly wrong (and Sarah's going to be posting more about that later) there are some rather tricky areas, where authors have to exercise a bit more personal judgement about what is, or isn't, acceptable use of source material.

Over at Dear Author Sandra's asked about some of these greyer areas in the relationship between texts and what type of referencing can realistically be expected in a work of fiction. Janet/Robin's given her answer, but I'd like to take a look at this too, in a bit more detail.

Do you seriously propose that the same standards should be introduced in fiction?

Obviously one isn't going to expect fiction to be written in MLA style with a full bibliography, footnotes and references within the text to the source of each fact or quotation.

Beyond that acknowledgement of an acceptable difference between the standards expected in fictional and non-fictional works, things become rather more tricky. In general, it's easy enough to say that an author of fiction needs to read non-fiction texts, absorb the information and include it into the fiction in a way which is not simply paraphrasing or quoting chunks (or entire original phrases) from the non-fiction text. It remains a controversial area, however, particularly with regards to the use of historical sources:
Historical details, as McEwan has said, bring life and vigour to fiction. The imagination is crucial, but research brings truth. So what is the novelists’ responsibility to their sources? How can a contemporary novel speak to the past, or speak out of it, as Adam Thorpe puts it? (Alden)
My feeling is that if an author of fiction want to include any text verbatim from other sources there needs to be a very good reason for it. The treatment of the material will also differ depending on
  1. whether it can be assumed that the reader will recognise the borrowing. For example, if in a historical novel the Duke of Wellington says "Publish, and be damned!" that would be something one might assume many people would know to be a statement that's generally attributed to him, just as one might assume that readers would realise that the depiction of him was based on a real person. So the author might not need to mention that in a little bibliography at the end of the novel.
  2. whether the source is more obscure and so it should be assumed that the reader is not likely to recognise it. In this second case, the author of the fictional work should, in my opinion, inform the reader about their source. For example, if there were frequent quotations from the Duke's letters within the text of the novel, I would expect that to be mentioned in a historical note/bibliography at the end, because the author would not have made up those words and the texts could not be assumed to be widely known enough for the public to be able to recognise their source.
Similarly, if the novel is based on a real person that the public could not be expected to recognise, then I would expect that to be mentioned somewhere, otherwise the public might be deceived by the text which is usually to be found on the copyright page and which usually runs something like this:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. (from the copyright page of a novel published by Harlequin)
Clearly that would not be the case if one had a large chunk of one's novel set around the Duke of Wellington and the Battle of Waterloo. However, they're famous enough that readers could be expected to know that the battle was a real event. If it was a less famous event, though, or a less famous real person, then some recognition of that would be required, I'd think, in a historical note at the end/beginning of the novel.

In addition, if one's borrowed very heavily from particular sources, the extent of the debt would need to be made clear. Amanda Grange, for example, has written several novels which are heavily based on works by Jane Austen, and that's clear right from the start, in their titles: Mr Darcy's Diary, Mr Knightley's Diary, and so on. Grange is in no way attempting to pass off either the plots or the characters as her own, but openly and fully acknowledges her debt to Austen. The same sort of proceeding would also apply to non-fictional sources. Being lightly inspired by someone's account of her time as a wartime nurse is rather different from a novelist using several scenes from the nurse's autobiography as the basis of several scenes in a novel. The latter would require rather more acknowledgement, and use of her actual words would demand yet more.

Intertextuality, the relationship between one work of fiction and other, earlier, works of fiction, and the way it should be dealt with by authors is also much debated and disputed. It does depend, I think, on the extent to which you can assume that your reading public will be able to recognise what you're doing, how close the parallels are between the two texts, and whether any material is being used verbatim. The more obscure the source text, and the greater the reliance there is upon it, the more need there is for explicit acknowledgement of this.

I think it would be a reasonable expectation to assume that at least some members of the public would recognise intertextual allusions to myths, fairytales, Shakespeare, the Bible and other well-known texts and tales. I think it would also be a reasonable expectation to assume that the public would recognise other texts which are perhaps less authorative, but are well-known at the time of writing, such as some works of popular culture.

However, if an author of fiction found a relatively obscure play/novel/poem/film (and as with the famousness of real people and their public statements, obscurity can be difficult to define, and there will be borderline cases) and quoted chunks of it in the text and/or paraphrased chunks of it and/or borrowed significant amounts of its plot, then I'd expect that to be recognised somehow in a historical/bibliographical note. If the characters just quote from poems/plays/novels, and it's clear in the text that they're quoting, then one probably doesn't need to have a complete bibliography, even if some of those works are not so well-known. But it might be of interest to readers to find out more about those poems/plays/films/novels. In Jennifer Crusie's Welcome to Temptation, for example, some of the characters quote from movies:
"Oh, relax." Amy peered at Sophie over the top of her pink cats-eye sunglasses. "It's a video shoot, not a bank heist. What could go wrong?"

"Don't say that." Sophie sank lower in her seat. "Anytime anybody in a movie says, 'What could go wrong?' something goes wrong."

A green sign that read Temptation 1/4 Mile loomed ahead, and Sophie reviewed her situation for the eleventh time that hour. She was going to a small town to make an unscripted video for a washed-up actress she didn't trust. There were going to be problems. They'd show up at any minute, like bats, dive bombing them from out of nowhere. A strand of her dark curly hair blew across her eyes, and she jammed it back into the knot on top of her head with one finger. "Bats," she said out loud, and Amy said, "What?"

Sophie let her head fall back against the seat. "'We can't stop here. This is bat country.'"

"Johnny Depp," Amy said. "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Stop quoting. (from the first chapter, available on Crusie's website)
As far as I can remember, not every single movie quotation in Welcome to Temptation is "labelled" in this way, but many are, and the reader is certainly aware that the characters frequently quote from movies, even if he or she can't recognise the precise source of all the quotations. That would be acceptable in and of itself, but Crusie's also listed them on her website, which is a nice way of giving additional acknowledgement of the source of the material.

If the intertextuality is there and might not be recognised by the general reading public, but is minor, then it wouldn't need to be acknowledged. Loretta Chase has said that in Not Quite a Lady:
Hyacinth was inspired by the Empress of Blandings, of P.G. Wodehouses’s Blandings Castle stories.

Imagining a pig is easy, even for a city girl, but getting Hyacinth’s world right was trickier. What did a sty look like, exactly? What did it smell like? To create a believable fictional environment, I needed, among other things, live pigs.
Even if Chase had never mentioned this, it would have been quite acceptable, I think, because as one can tell from her description, Chase did not simply lift Wodehouse's description of the Empress of Blandings and place it in her novel. She was inspired by Wodehouse's text, but then made the pig her own by doing further research and writing about it in her own words.


The portrait of the Duke of Wellington is by Francisco de Goya, and is from Wikipedia. More details about the painting can be found on the website of the National Gallery, London.