Vladimir Nabokov

NABOKV-L post 0010294, Mon, 23 Aug 2004 10:39:08 -0700

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one Halloween ...
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----- Forwarded message from spklein52@hotmail.com -----
Date: Sun, 22 Aug 2004 23:22:03 -0400
From: "Sandy P. Klein" <spklein52@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: SPKlein52@HotMail.com
Subject: VN was furious when a trick-or-treater knocked on his door one
Halloween ...
To: spklein52@hotmail.com

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http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,3604,1288674,00.html[1] What do
Nabokov, Peter Pan and Michael Jackson have in common? Ask a
copyright lawyer
Authors tend to be tight-fisted in disposing of their literary
property, on the "what has posterity ever done for me?" principle.
Occasionally, however, they are philanthropic when drawing up their
wills. George Bernard Shaw left a chunk of copyright revenue to the
British Museum reading room (his "university") and to the rational
Spelling Society ...
Monday 2004-08-23, The Guardian (! English) [2][3] Copyright
consequences

John Sutherland
Monday August 23, 2004
The Guardian[4]

Authors tend to be tight-fisted in disposing of their literary
property, on the "what has posterity ever done for me?" principle.
Occasionally, however, they are philanthropic when drawing up their
wills. George Bernard Shaw left a chunk of copyright revenue to the
British Museum reading room (his "university") and to the rational
Spelling Society (his hobbyhorse). AA Milne bequeathed Winnie the
Pooh to his alma mater (Westminster School), his London club (the
Garrick) and the Royal Literary Fund. The beneficiaries subsequently
sold the franchise on to Disney for a sum equivalent to the GNP of
Portugal.

JM Barrie died, loaded with literary honour, in 1937. He had, for
decades, been a major donor to the Great Ormond Street children's
hospital and left them his Peter Pan copyright. Peter, the "boy who
never grew up", had been a patient in the London hospital, Barrie
claimed (rather mysteriously).

Barrie loved children, preferring their company to that of adults,
but fathered no offspring of his own. There has been speculation
about his sexuality, but as one of his "boys" later asserted: "I
don't think Uncle Jim ever experienced what one might call a stirring
in the undergrowth for anyone - man, woman, or child."

Under copyright legislation, introduced in 1988, owners of literary
material have a continuing "moral right" - even after they have sold
a property on. Disney, for example, could, theoretically, be
prevented by the Garrick Club from marketing Winnie the Pooh toilet
paper (not that Uncle Walt ever would). Under EU legislation,
introduced in 1997, postmortem copyright lasts 70 years - which gives
the hospital three more years' ownership of Peter Pan. To commemorate
the 100th anniversary of publication, they have launched a
competition for a sequel: hopefully by an author of JK Rowling
calibre (the trustees can also, by virtue of their moral right, block
any unauthorised exploitation).

It's difficult to think of a better good cause than the Great Ormond
Street hospital. But it's also difficult to ignore some ugly things
stirring in the undergrowth. Any artist today, with the declared
tastes of "Uncle Jim" Barrie, runs the risk of being branded "pervy".
Consider Michael Jackson, who (by the miracles of cosmetic surgery)
refuses to grow old, lives in a fantasy ranch called Neverland, and
has given even more of his wealth to sick children than even Barrie
did. The upcoming trial in Santa Maria, and Uncle Jacko's Peter Pan
posturing, will cast a sinister shadow over over the last three years
of the Great Ormond Street copyright ownership. That awful prospect
may, I suspect, have partly inspired the Peter Pan II wheeze.

Pubescent children are, nowadays, dangerous territory for
respectable artists and routinely misappropriated by the
un-respectable. In the slimy underworld of the web, Barrie's
12-year-olds (Google "Peter Porn") have suffered the same treatment
as Vladimir Nabokov's 11-year-old nymphet. The Russian novelist
savagely repudiated any suggestion that he condoned paedophilia. He
was furious when a cute little trick-or-treater knocked on his door
one Halloween, dressed as Lolita. That was not what he meant at all.
Yet "Lolita" is now international code for glamorised sexual abuse of
little girls.

There has always been a dark fringe of pornographic literary
burlesque. Underground films of the golden age celebrated in the
movie Boogie Nights aspired to a kinky wit with "Swiss Family
Rubberson", and (my favourite title) "Mad Jack: Beyond the
Thunderbone". But there is little more likely to make you want to
defect from the human race than a sampling of what is currently
merchandised under the Lolita or Peter Porn brands.

As far as I know, the concept of "moral ownership" in literary
property has never been tested in British courts. These two
in-copyright, much-prostituted child images would be a good place to
start. But, meanwhile, good luck to Great Ormond Street.

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Links:
------
[1] http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,3604,1288674,00.html
[2] http://www.guardian.co.uk/
[3] http://www.guardian.co.uk/guardian
[4] http://www.guardian.co.uk/

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