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Tanya Grotter and the Magic Double Bass
Slate has a piece about Harry Potter and copyright worldwide that is a disguised call for copyright reform. Well written, well argued, extremely good argument, won't be picked up anywhere else.
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He first ignores the difference between inspired by and derivative works, lumping in Tonya Grotter (which with the data given may or may not be a derivative work) with Harry Potter in Calcutta.
Second, he doesn't consider any of the logical consequences of ending derivative work protection, except for a brief consideration of movie rights.
For example, if international copyright is changed to allow Harry Potter in Calcutta, certainly there's no obvious reason why an unauthorized Harry Potter in New York shouldn't be similarly allowed. Or an alternate Harry Potter 6 book, for that matter.
Translations are derivative works, not the original; all translation is paraphrase. Should a translation of a Rowling Harry Potter into French not pay royalties to her? How about a mere English-languge paraphrase?
Similarly, a movie of the first Harry Potter is not a copy of the book but just a derivative work, and any other version of the film shot by a different studio isn't a copy, either. Should Disney be allowed to suddenly start making its own Harry Potter films based directly on the books?
Moron. He doesn't even raise the questions.
I've been planning on writing someting about just this subject for a while. This is the natural situation, if you think about creativity.
How does creative stuff happen? Some author or musician or whatever really digs something, and feels inspired, and writes something that features all the stuff he digs.
You might create a ripping bluegrass tune in the style of Flatt and Scrugs, or if you're Mr. Bungle, mix surf music with death metal. If you're a writer, maybe you will create an epic like the great Finnish epics, only set in a world of your own creation, or maybe a world where the ancient Greek gods are all immortal personifications, updated for the modern age. Maybe you'll write a story where refugees from Troy found the Roman empire. Maybe you'll write a story about a nerdy boy who becomes a great magician, but who doesn't fight the demon Barbatos and an evil possible future version of himself.
In the days before oppressive copyright, this was the norm. The world of fiction was a big pot of cool stuff and everyone worked out of it. To this day, the rich mythical history of past civilizations shape our current world.
Terry Pratchett said this, and I think it's interesting:
'Books in a genre may well remind you of other books in that genre. This is allowed. If it wasn't, H G Wells would have been the only person permitted to write about time machines. Being a fantasy writer is like being allowed to sit around a big bubbling pot, a stew made up of everything that's gone before. You're allowed to take a certain amount of stuff out, and you don't object if it turns out that you're putting stuff in, too. And so the stew bubbles on. There are only two crimes: one is to claim that the pot is yours, and that the other is to claim that there is no pot.'
He wasn't talking about taking specifics like Harry Potter's name and rough history, but such distinctions are slight and, in my opinion, completely unimportant.