Thomas Pynchon on plagiarism

[Werner Presber]

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2010/08/thomas-pynchon-on-plagiarism.html

1977: Romance novelist Lucilla Andrews' autobiography, No Time for  
Romance, is published. In it, she describes, in detail, her  
experiences as a nurse during World War II.

2001: Atonement - an Ian McEwan novel in which the heroine at one  
point works as a wartime nurse - is released to much critical acclaim.  
In the book, Lucilla Andrews is acknowledged as a source.

25th Nov., 2006: Following Andrews' death, a British 'newspaper'  
prints an article accusing McEwan of plagiarism in relation to the  
late-novelist's memoirs.

27th Nov., 2006: McEwan immediately responds, saying, in part:

For certain long-outdated medical practices, she was my sole source  
and I have always been grateful to her. I have openly acknowledged my  
debt to her in the author's note at the end of Atonement, and ever  
since on public platforms.December, 2006: A number of prominent  
authors jump to McEwan's defence. Below, a particularly notable letter  
of support from reclusive authorThomas Pynchon, sent to his British  
publisher.


FROM THOMAS PYNCHON

„Given the British genius for coded utterance, this could all be about  
something else entirely, impossible on this side of the ocean to  
appreciate in any nuanced way-- but assuming that it really is about  
who owns the right to describe using gentian violet for ringworm, for  
heaven's sake, allow me a gentle suggestion. Oddly enough, most of us  
who write historical fiction do feel some obligation to accuracy. It  
is that Ruskin business about "a capacity responsive to the claims of  
fact, but unoppressed by them." Unless we were actually there, we must  
turn to people who were, or to letters, contemporary reporting, the  
Internet until, with luck, we can begin to make a few things of our  
own up. To discover in the course of research some engaging detail we  
know can be put into a story where it will do some good can hardly be  
classed as a felonious act-- it is simply what we do. The worst you  
can call itis a form of primate behavior. Writers are naturally drawn,  
chimpanzee-like, to the color and the music of this English idiom we  
are blessed to have inherited. When given the choice we will usually  
try to use the more vivid and tuneful among its words. I cannot of  
course speak for Mr. McEwan's method of proceeding, but should be very  
surprised indeed if something of the sort, even for brief moments, had  
not occurred during his research for Atonement. Gentian violet! Come  
on. Who among us could have resisted that one?

Memoirs of the Blitz have borne indispensable witness, and helped  
later generations know something of the tragedy and heroism of those  
days. For Mr. McEwan to have put details from one of them to further  
creative use, acknowledging this openly and often, and then explaining  
it clearly and honorably, surely merits not our scolding, but our  
gratitude.“