Print is Dead: Books in Our Digital Age

Last week I read a book called Bowie in Berlin, which was all about the three records that David Bowie made in the late ‘70s with Brian Eno and Tony Visconti in Germany. It was a really good book, and it was basically 300 pages devoted to just three of Bowie’s albums, with each record getting a track-by-track dissection along with commentary and historical background. I love this sort of thing about bands, directors, etc.

Whenever I get into an author I read all of their books, a few biographies, and then watch any documentaries about them and/or movies based on their work. All of this gives me a great context from which to view the author’s work, and it puts both the books and the author’s life into historical and literary perspective. And yet, if mega-successful Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling gets her way, I can’t help but thinking that this kind of a thing will come to an end. Why?

Because this week she’s in town to testify against tiny RDR Books, trying to stop the small independent publisher from issuing an encyclopedia of her Harry Potter characters and world. And if she, along with Warner Bros. (the film studio who owns the rights to the Harry Potter films), is victorious in shutting down RDR, it could have chilling consequences. According to The New York Times, “Legal analysts say the outcome of the case could set a crucial precedent in the literary world, one that determines the extent to which fans can use and build upon the works of their favorite authors.”

This doesn’t make any sense. No one is going to read the encyclopedia rather than Rowling’s books; the book that RDR is trying to publish will be a celebration of Rowling’s ideas, not the theft of them. But Rowling doesn’t see it this way, and she’s now doing everything she can to stop publication. All of this also begs a bigger question: Whose books are they anyway?

I’ve always thought of my own books as children and, when they’re published, they turn eighteen and leave the house (and my protection) and thus begin a life of their own. I wish them well, and hope they don’t get into trouble, but of course if they do there’s nothing I can do about it.

For instance, for right or wrong J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye has become somewhat of a magnet for strange people (Mark David Chapman had a well-thumbed copy on him when he murdered John Lennon; in fact, it’s become a bit of a cliché to say that the book is in the hip pocket of every would-be assassin). But the fact that the book was in Chapman’s hands is surely out of Salinger’s hands; when any author elects to publish their work, it’s like releasing smoke into the air: there’s no way to control or contain where it goes.

True, it’s a different story when someone is using your exact words, repackaging them for their own profit. But if what’s being written about is instead your world, then that’s not only fair game (and fair use), but it’s good thing and not a bad thing. In Rowling’s case, her books are going to sell no matter what. But if she’s allowed to succeed in stopping RDR, think about all of the books about books (not to mention books about movies and plays and music) that won’t get written as a result. Bands could protest books being written about their songs, and directors could claim infringement when books about their movies appear. Part of the pleasure, and indeed the understanding, of art comes from putting it into context and perspective — not to mention just plain celebrating it — but if Rowling has her way nothing would exist but the works themselves.

But Rowling isn’t thinking of her fans; she’s only thinking of herself:

“My prime concern, if not my only concern,” she added later, “is these characters who have meant so much to me and continue to mean so much to me over a very long period of time. It’s very difficult for someone who is not a writer to understand.”

She should instead try and look at it from the point of view of a reader (if not a fan). People — including RDR — are doing this because they love the characters; not because they hate or want to hurt them. And what’s most funny or ironic (or just plain sad) about all this is that Rowling and Warner Bros. have in recent years slapped Harry Potter’s name all over almost every kind of memorabilia (I’m waiting for the Harry Potter calculator that comes with no seven or eight). And now she minds someone putting Harry Potter’s name on a book?