Covers, Parodies and Theft

If I were to pick up my guitar – which I do with increasing rarity these days since I got old enough to watch my dreams of teenage rock stardom crumble to dust – then chances are that it wouldn’t be one of my own compositions that I’d play. I’d badly strum something written by one of the bands who have provided the soundtrack to the best days of my life. The Alarm or Kiss maybe, or perhaps James Taylor (I’m old; get over it). I certainly wouldn’t think ‘Right, my fingers are in position, it’s time for me to create something brand new that nobody’s ever done before’. I’d more likely try (and fail because I have fat sausage fingers) to nail a ridiculously difficult Steve Howe guitar solo.

So how come each time I open my laptop to do some writing that’s precisely what I’m expected to do (the ‘create new work’ thing, not the Steve Howe solo)? There’s an expectation on me as an author that every piece of work I produce must be something original. It’s not even acceptable for me to simply base my new story on someone else’s previously published prose – that’s called plagiarism or even worse, parody.

If I decided to knock off a quick note-for-note Harry Potter cover version say, even one where I wrote really simply because the original version contains some twiddly bits that are beyond my ability, then the heavily anti-piracy Ms Rowling would send her legal team round quicker than I could decide on the correct spelling of ‘Expelliarmus’ (and I’m still not sure if I got it right).

I’d end up with a criminal record and would have to give her all my worldly goods, chattels and intellectual copyrights for the foreseeable future and beyond. Good old Jay Kay. I wish she’d write something new but I guess she’s got all on fronting Jamiroquai at the moment.

But I ask you, isn’t this ‘copying’ exactly what the likes of Susan Boyle have based their entire careers on? She’s wildly popular but doesn’t create anything new, she ‘just’ presents her own interpretation of somebody else’s work. She gets applauded (and paid handsomely) and the original writer of the piece gets a chunk of cash for her doing it too; a small portion of each sale. Everyone wins. Surely the same could be done in other artistic fields?

So let’s give this a go. I’ll get some copies of ‘The Da Vinci Code’ printed up with my name on the cover instead of D** Br**n’s. I’ll even use a different font (Comic sans serif might be appropriate), correct some of his more ridiculous factual errors and lighten the clichéd, bombastic prose style to make it a wee bit different. Then I’ll release it as a cheap download via some app store, making a name for myself and a few quid in the process.

Surely he won’t mind?

© Shaun Finnie 2012