Pirate Cinema
by Cory Doctorow
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Description
In a dystopian, near-future Britain, sixteen-year-old Trent, obsessed with making movies on his computer, joins a group of artists and activists who are trying to fight a new bill that will criminalize even more harmless internet creativity.Tags
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PghDragonMan Big corporations seek to control creativity and the creative forces strike back.
by kaledrina
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It took me more than a hundred pages to warm to this book, but after that I enjoyed it quite a bit. I hold the narrator responsible for this; he is a 16 year old boy, and thus as far as I am concerned is inherently very annoying. After his friends, family, girlfriend, and girlfriend’s family get more involved in his life, though, he become better and so does the novel. It is very much a Cory Doctorow novel and thus quite predictable: there are regular chunks of technological and/or socio-political explanation. I don’t mind that, though. Each of Doctorow’s novels is essentially explores an aspect of technology in an entertaining manner. In this case, the ease and uncontrollability of internet piracy. ‘Pirate Cinema’ is set in a show more near-future London in which copyright laws have criminalised teenagers for downloading and cut their families off the internet.
Doctorow novels have an engaging idealism that I find refreshing, which I think is why they tend to star teenagers. I am a relatively cynical twentysomething and found the little debates about politics rather adorably naive. Still, in the Doctorow world a piece of technology deployed carefully at the right time can make a massive difference. Maybe that is true, albeit never as easy as he makes it out to be. Still, not enough fiction explores the potential for positive political changes based on a grassroots movement. On the other hand, I think the ease and comfort of squat living and ‘freeganism’ must be exaggerated here. For a start, there cannot be many liveable empty buildings left to occupy in London, given its intense housing crisis. Moreover, given how difficult it is to keep warm and relatively free of mould in expensive rented accommodation, surely squats must have similar issues.
These are quite minor quibbles, though. I did enjoy this novel after a slow-ish start. It makes copyright law reform exciting and accessible, which is impressive. I was a little surprised that it didn’t directly mention what is (to me) one of the strongest arguments against repressive anti-downloading laws: the marginal cost of copying a file is zero and the supply is effectively infinite. According to free market economics, in a perfectly competitive market (which doesn’t exist, but economists pretend that they do) marginal cost = price and infinite supply = price of zero. Technology has created these conditions and it seems impossible to reverse them, so a new business model for copyright seems to be required. Penalising file-copying seems doomed to be about as successful as prohibition.
EDITED TO ADD: I've just remembered what bothered me most about this book - the abbreviation of laptop to 'lappie'. NO. That is inexcusable. show less
Doctorow novels have an engaging idealism that I find refreshing, which I think is why they tend to star teenagers. I am a relatively cynical twentysomething and found the little debates about politics rather adorably naive. Still, in the Doctorow world a piece of technology deployed carefully at the right time can make a massive difference. Maybe that is true, albeit never as easy as he makes it out to be. Still, not enough fiction explores the potential for positive political changes based on a grassroots movement. On the other hand, I think the ease and comfort of squat living and ‘freeganism’ must be exaggerated here. For a start, there cannot be many liveable empty buildings left to occupy in London, given its intense housing crisis. Moreover, given how difficult it is to keep warm and relatively free of mould in expensive rented accommodation, surely squats must have similar issues.
These are quite minor quibbles, though. I did enjoy this novel after a slow-ish start. It makes copyright law reform exciting and accessible, which is impressive. I was a little surprised that it didn’t directly mention what is (to me) one of the strongest arguments against repressive anti-downloading laws: the marginal cost of copying a file is zero and the supply is effectively infinite. According to free market economics, in a perfectly competitive market (which doesn’t exist, but economists pretend that they do) marginal cost = price and infinite supply = price of zero. Technology has created these conditions and it seems impossible to reverse them, so a new business model for copyright seems to be required. Penalising file-copying seems doomed to be about as successful as prohibition.
EDITED TO ADD: I've just remembered what bothered me most about this book - the abbreviation of laptop to 'lappie'. NO. That is inexcusable. show less
All of Cory's books have something to say about copyright law and user rights and remix culture. Generally, they're set in a post-scarcity economy that, while near, still feels futuristic and gives his stories a slight sci-fi feel.
In Pirate Cinema very little is different from our current society. Sure the general population is a bit more dependant on the internet than they might be now. And the draconian anti-innovation copyright laws are more oppressive, parliament is more corrupt, voters more apathetic. But it all feels like a logical - if scary and unfortunate - extension of today. A very real look at where our laws are headed. I started with a discussion of all of Cory's books for a reason. While his writings have a general theme show more of user rights, open more logical copyright, &c. these themes and discussions are everything to Pirate Cinema. Where books like "Makers" and "Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom" use remix culture and transformative works as a method of discussing broader sociological and philosophical topics, "Pirate Cinema" takes a hard look at why big media groups like the MPAA and the RIAA and their non-US counterparts spend billions of dollars making sure remixes and transformative works &c. are made illegal and - if they had their way - criminal.
While the strong focus on copyright issues and transformative works doesn't make "Pirate Cinema" unenjoyable - it is, in fact, a fantastic read - it does make certain parts feel a bit preachy. On the other hand, I already agreed with the views expressed by Cecil and 26 and their cohorts and still found some novel arguments and discussions that I really enjoyed.
So I vehemently recommend this to anyone who is just learning about transformative works or those who think that this kind of art is theft. Read this book. Sure it's fiction. But you're kidding yourself if you believe it isn't extremely relevant to what is happening right now in the global IP law sector. This is where we're headed. If it's all the same to you, dear reader, I'd rather we turned around and made some sensible laws now. It's time to embrace the internet. show less
In Pirate Cinema very little is different from our current society. Sure the general population is a bit more dependant on the internet than they might be now. And the draconian anti-innovation copyright laws are more oppressive, parliament is more corrupt, voters more apathetic. But it all feels like a logical - if scary and unfortunate - extension of today. A very real look at where our laws are headed. I started with a discussion of all of Cory's books for a reason. While his writings have a general theme show more of user rights, open more logical copyright, &c. these themes and discussions are everything to Pirate Cinema. Where books like "Makers" and "Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom" use remix culture and transformative works as a method of discussing broader sociological and philosophical topics, "Pirate Cinema" takes a hard look at why big media groups like the MPAA and the RIAA and their non-US counterparts spend billions of dollars making sure remixes and transformative works &c. are made illegal and - if they had their way - criminal.
While the strong focus on copyright issues and transformative works doesn't make "Pirate Cinema" unenjoyable - it is, in fact, a fantastic read - it does make certain parts feel a bit preachy. On the other hand, I already agreed with the views expressed by Cecil and 26 and their cohorts and still found some novel arguments and discussions that I really enjoyed.
So I vehemently recommend this to anyone who is just learning about transformative works or those who think that this kind of art is theft. Read this book. Sure it's fiction. But you're kidding yourself if you believe it isn't extremely relevant to what is happening right now in the global IP law sector. This is where we're headed. If it's all the same to you, dear reader, I'd rather we turned around and made some sensible laws now. It's time to embrace the internet. show less
"If it's just theft, then why do they need to get their laws passed in the dead of the night, without debate or discussion?" - 26 in Pirate Cinema
There's something more than a little bit After School Special-ish about Pirate Cinema, I'm afraid. Well, let's say half After-School Special and half Steal This Book. With maybe a little of some sunny Oliver!-ish can-do musical extravaganza thrown in here and there. Which is to say that in a lot of ways, the didactic agenda of this novel gets noticeably in the way of the story a little too often to make this a genuinely enjoyable read. And however praiseworthy that agenda may be, a novel-length parable illustrating its importance is a bit much.
But! Fear not, for the bits where we don't feel show more the author sitting next to us and preaching at us (and let me just get it out there right now: I sing an enthusiastic tenor in every performance of the choir to whom Cory Doctorow is preaching) are pretty good, though in some ways that almost makes it worse -- they're good enough to just make the reader ache for an edit of this book with maybe at least some of the finger-wagging cut out or cut down.
I wonder how Doctorow, champion of remix culture, culture jamming, sharing, and all the other ideas that are illustrated in this book, would feel about such an edit, though? On the one hand, his work would be getting watered down, stripped of a lot of its political message and used as mere entertainment, and thus maybe undermining that message; on the other, well, it would be a remix like any other. Another fan might choose to edit out all of the teenage romance and cheerful "we can do it" remodeling/repurposing/squat claiming stuff and just leave the expounding dialogues in place to educate everyone about the dangers of copyright maximalism and the move to privatize free expression and bring all media under corporate control.
Actually, as I consider it, I would probably enjoy reading either of those edits, at least more than I enjoyed reading this novel.
That's not to say it's a horrible novel; it's not. Doctorow has considerable narrative skill and has populated his story with a host of very charming characters, young punks all, lovable scamps with talent and creativity and technical know-how (and, in more than a few cases, an impressive knowledge of property law, both intellectual and real). One would have to have a heart of stone not to root for Trent and his girlfriend 26*, Jem and Rabid Dog, Cora and Aziz and all the rest**. Especially since their foes are so faceless, so nameless as to not even be human at all: Paramount, Universal, Disney-Marvel, Virgin -- you get the idea.
Trent and co. live in an absolute copyright dystopia that takes things even further than that depicted in my good friend Paul Laroquod's Swap Thing videos. If you want to see a movie on the big screen, you not only have to fork out the cash for a ticket, but also subject yourself to metal detectors, searches, and temporary confiscation of any personal electronics you've been dumb enough to bring. Download too many illegal files off the internet and you can have your entire family's access cut off for a whole year. And all that's even before yet another piece of draconian legislation gets passed that imposes, among other things, mandatory minimum jail sentences for being caught in possession of any music, photos, films or other files you can't prove you obtained 100% legally.
Enter our hero, Trent, a teenaged kid who happens to be a very talented video editor, and to be, as teenagers are, utterly disinclined to wait until he's done with school and has been hired and vetted by a corporate overlord to sanction/pay for/control his exercise of his talents, anymore than a kid who was good at a sport would wait for a professional league to discover him before playing that sport. Of course, as we've established, Trent does not live in a world that acknowledges or respects this equivalency; it is as if a promising young basketball player got busted and banned for enjoying some pick-up games on the playground, sharing his ball and the court and his knowledge of the rules and the history of the sport with other kids freely being suddenly banned from ever touching any ball or court or uniform, perhaps even any spectator's seat at a game, ever again.
I know, ridiculous, right? What's to stop such a kid from, say, stealing a ball from a sporting goods store and shooting some hoops on a deserted playground in the dead of night? Maybe even teaming up with other people who got busted and starting a secret club where they head off to a secret cobbled-together court somewhere to indulge their shared passion.***
That's pretty much what Trent does. When a third copyright offense, logged as he finishes his latest mash-up masterpiece on his laptop at his parents' house, triggers the harshest penalty -- his entire household, parents and sister and all, being banned from the internet for an entire year -- Trent runs away and goes rogue, joining up with a bunch of other similarly banned/punished people to continue doing what they love outside of/under mainstream society, hacking hardware to circumvent the latest crufted-on copyright protection cripples, remixing films and books and music into their own weird new creations, throwing parties in which their artwork is freely shared and enjoyed by anyone cool enough and smart enough to be willing to put in the time to find out where to go and how to do it.
Ahh, hackers. Ahh, culture jammers. How are they not lovable? Romantic? Quixotic? Charming? Plucky? And yet also, somehow boring. They always get along. They always make things happen. Hell, even the parents and other adults like and encourage them, even 26's parents, who tell Trent it's just fine that he sleeps over in their 17-year-old-daughter's bedroom. With her. Even if they don't sleep. Wink wink. Really?
After a while, even the important jeopardy -- the big bad so big and so bad and so important that Doctorow couldn't allow even the ghost of any other kind of conflict so that even the neighborhood drug dealers where Trent squats are nice and friendly and helpful -- feels unreal and inchoate. The corporate sharks are swimming out there in the deep water, watchful and hungry, but our carefree happy little heroes stick to the shallows and frolick away, and just occasionally chuck some chum out to sea out of sheer exuberance.
Don't get me wrong; I had fun reading this at times. But I could never just immerse myself in the story, between the preaching and the excessive benevolence of the book's universe. In the end, I found that for all my love of Doctorow and what he does, I didn't ever feel like I was this book's audience.
But I'm not sure who is.
*Yeah, that's really her name. Sometimes people call her Twenty for short.
**Not that they need much rooting for.
***You sports fans should all take a moment and contemplate with gratitude the fact that, as dickheaded as the NBA, NFL, FIFA, etc. can be, they haven't to date tried to get play not under their aegis banned by law. show less
There's something more than a little bit After School Special-ish about Pirate Cinema, I'm afraid. Well, let's say half After-School Special and half Steal This Book. With maybe a little of some sunny Oliver!-ish can-do musical extravaganza thrown in here and there. Which is to say that in a lot of ways, the didactic agenda of this novel gets noticeably in the way of the story a little too often to make this a genuinely enjoyable read. And however praiseworthy that agenda may be, a novel-length parable illustrating its importance is a bit much.
But! Fear not, for the bits where we don't feel show more the author sitting next to us and preaching at us (and let me just get it out there right now: I sing an enthusiastic tenor in every performance of the choir to whom Cory Doctorow is preaching) are pretty good, though in some ways that almost makes it worse -- they're good enough to just make the reader ache for an edit of this book with maybe at least some of the finger-wagging cut out or cut down.
I wonder how Doctorow, champion of remix culture, culture jamming, sharing, and all the other ideas that are illustrated in this book, would feel about such an edit, though? On the one hand, his work would be getting watered down, stripped of a lot of its political message and used as mere entertainment, and thus maybe undermining that message; on the other, well, it would be a remix like any other. Another fan might choose to edit out all of the teenage romance and cheerful "we can do it" remodeling/repurposing/squat claiming stuff and just leave the expounding dialogues in place to educate everyone about the dangers of copyright maximalism and the move to privatize free expression and bring all media under corporate control.
Actually, as I consider it, I would probably enjoy reading either of those edits, at least more than I enjoyed reading this novel.
That's not to say it's a horrible novel; it's not. Doctorow has considerable narrative skill and has populated his story with a host of very charming characters, young punks all, lovable scamps with talent and creativity and technical know-how (and, in more than a few cases, an impressive knowledge of property law, both intellectual and real). One would have to have a heart of stone not to root for Trent and his girlfriend 26*, Jem and Rabid Dog, Cora and Aziz and all the rest**. Especially since their foes are so faceless, so nameless as to not even be human at all: Paramount, Universal, Disney-Marvel, Virgin -- you get the idea.
Trent and co. live in an absolute copyright dystopia that takes things even further than that depicted in my good friend Paul Laroquod's Swap Thing videos. If you want to see a movie on the big screen, you not only have to fork out the cash for a ticket, but also subject yourself to metal detectors, searches, and temporary confiscation of any personal electronics you've been dumb enough to bring. Download too many illegal files off the internet and you can have your entire family's access cut off for a whole year. And all that's even before yet another piece of draconian legislation gets passed that imposes, among other things, mandatory minimum jail sentences for being caught in possession of any music, photos, films or other files you can't prove you obtained 100% legally.
Enter our hero, Trent, a teenaged kid who happens to be a very talented video editor, and to be, as teenagers are, utterly disinclined to wait until he's done with school and has been hired and vetted by a corporate overlord to sanction/pay for/control his exercise of his talents, anymore than a kid who was good at a sport would wait for a professional league to discover him before playing that sport. Of course, as we've established, Trent does not live in a world that acknowledges or respects this equivalency; it is as if a promising young basketball player got busted and banned for enjoying some pick-up games on the playground, sharing his ball and the court and his knowledge of the rules and the history of the sport with other kids freely being suddenly banned from ever touching any ball or court or uniform, perhaps even any spectator's seat at a game, ever again.
I know, ridiculous, right? What's to stop such a kid from, say, stealing a ball from a sporting goods store and shooting some hoops on a deserted playground in the dead of night? Maybe even teaming up with other people who got busted and starting a secret club where they head off to a secret cobbled-together court somewhere to indulge their shared passion.***
That's pretty much what Trent does. When a third copyright offense, logged as he finishes his latest mash-up masterpiece on his laptop at his parents' house, triggers the harshest penalty -- his entire household, parents and sister and all, being banned from the internet for an entire year -- Trent runs away and goes rogue, joining up with a bunch of other similarly banned/punished people to continue doing what they love outside of/under mainstream society, hacking hardware to circumvent the latest crufted-on copyright protection cripples, remixing films and books and music into their own weird new creations, throwing parties in which their artwork is freely shared and enjoyed by anyone cool enough and smart enough to be willing to put in the time to find out where to go and how to do it.
Ahh, hackers. Ahh, culture jammers. How are they not lovable? Romantic? Quixotic? Charming? Plucky? And yet also, somehow boring. They always get along. They always make things happen. Hell, even the parents and other adults like and encourage them, even 26's parents, who tell Trent it's just fine that he sleeps over in their 17-year-old-daughter's bedroom. With her. Even if they don't sleep. Wink wink. Really?
After a while, even the important jeopardy -- the big bad so big and so bad and so important that Doctorow couldn't allow even the ghost of any other kind of conflict so that even the neighborhood drug dealers where Trent squats are nice and friendly and helpful -- feels unreal and inchoate. The corporate sharks are swimming out there in the deep water, watchful and hungry, but our carefree happy little heroes stick to the shallows and frolick away, and just occasionally chuck some chum out to sea out of sheer exuberance.
Don't get me wrong; I had fun reading this at times. But I could never just immerse myself in the story, between the preaching and the excessive benevolence of the book's universe. In the end, I found that for all my love of Doctorow and what he does, I didn't ever feel like I was this book's audience.
But I'm not sure who is.
*Yeah, that's really her name. Sometimes people call her Twenty for short.
**Not that they need much rooting for.
***You sports fans should all take a moment and contemplate with gratitude the fact that, as dickheaded as the NBA, NFL, FIFA, etc. can be, they haven't to date tried to get play not under their aegis banned by law. show less
I have liked all of Doctorow's books I have read but I felt Pirate Cinema was even better than his more will known works.
In a near future Britian a teenage boy gets his family cut off from the internet for one year for torrenting classic movies. He was using them to remix his own movies.
In hope of running away from his problems he runs away to London and ends up in a homeless shelter, where he meets some pretty dodgy characters who teach him how to squat and pan handle and he ends up with more time to download more movies and make more movies.
He meets a beautiful girl and falls in love and accidentally becomes the leader of a pro-piracy movement.
It just felt so realistic, I cried, I laughed, I hoped he'd get laid. If I had anything show more negative it would be that the love interest Twenty-Six, nor her family, felt Indian at all. I've had dozens of friends from dozens of different Indian states, and they felt nothing like them to the point I honestly wonder if Doctorow knows any Indians. show less
In a near future Britian a teenage boy gets his family cut off from the internet for one year for torrenting classic movies. He was using them to remix his own movies.
In hope of running away from his problems he runs away to London and ends up in a homeless shelter, where he meets some pretty dodgy characters who teach him how to squat and pan handle and he ends up with more time to download more movies and make more movies.
He meets a beautiful girl and falls in love and accidentally becomes the leader of a pro-piracy movement.
It just felt so realistic, I cried, I laughed, I hoped he'd get laid. If I had anything show more negative it would be that the love interest Twenty-Six, nor her family, felt Indian at all. I've had dozens of friends from dozens of different Indian states, and they felt nothing like them to the point I honestly wonder if Doctorow knows any Indians. show less
ATTENTION AMERICA: C. Doctorow is teaching your children how to subvert surveillance, break the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, break copyright laws, steal internet access and do all of this without getting caught. More power to him, but what I can’t figure out is whether he is actually becoming a better writer or whether I am just numbing to his formula. Said formula would be: adolescent with a subset of uber-nerd tech skills leaves home, finds love, tech skills get protagonist entangled, tech skills save the day, but big evil (usually some combo of corporation / government) lingers, simmering for a sequel (can’t wait to read Homeland by the way). Since the skill set in question for this one was primarily video editing it was a show more little closer to my heart. Large portions of the denouement were still just teenagers doing things on computers. Where’s Richard Ford when you need him? William Gibson can’t write his way out of a wet paper bag either. Me? I’m good with cliches. I listened to this book on CD and what really sealed the deal was the performance of Bruce Mann. His working class youth from northern England worked for me though I must admit I’m ignorant as to whether his accent is accurate or not. Can anyone from the UK chime in on this? show less
I got this in the humble bundle like many others I suppose. It was a nice read, a sort of coming of age story in urban UK with a big dose of the author's views on copyright. The general premise was quite believable, a big part of the copyright restrictions mentioned are more or less with us, at least in some countries. I also didn't find that weird that someone would feel "compelled" to do this kind of art which I also don't think is any less "art" just because the source material is from somewhere else.
What I did find to be a big problem (like many others apparently) is that there is such a one-way representation of the situation. Copyright infringers only ever really do it for the art and for the greater good. In one case, "Cecil" show more makes copies of a movie before it is released and distributes it to the people waiting to go see it in the theater. There is not even a hint of a moral dilemma there. On the other hand, copyright enforcement is not even about making money anymore, but about keeping people in line - ok this is a bit more believable, but still.
Personally, I think that copyright terms and restrictions should be way more limited than now and that the current situation stifles creativity and robs us of our cultural heritage. Unfortunately, this book reads like the exact reverse of the media industry propaganda. It is hard to impress anyone with such a simplistic argument. show less
What I did find to be a big problem (like many others apparently) is that there is such a one-way representation of the situation. Copyright infringers only ever really do it for the art and for the greater good. In one case, "Cecil" show more makes copies of a movie before it is released and distributes it to the people waiting to go see it in the theater. There is not even a hint of a moral dilemma there. On the other hand, copyright enforcement is not even about making money anymore, but about keeping people in line - ok this is a bit more believable, but still.
Personally, I think that copyright terms and restrictions should be way more limited than now and that the current situation stifles creativity and robs us of our cultural heritage. Unfortunately, this book reads like the exact reverse of the media industry propaganda. It is hard to impress anyone with such a simplistic argument. show less
I have to say, I'm a huge Doctorow fan. I loved "Little Brother" (and I can't wait for its sequel, which is out next spring), and I know he has a way with words and social commentary. To mark this book as dystopian/sci-fi is a little off - while there are some dystopian elements to this book, it's more of a near-future social commentary about freedom, one's rights, creativity, politics, and copyright (or as Doctorow and crew at BoingBoing.net call it, "copyfight"), and how all of that comes together in how we lead our lives. While I have to agree with other reviewers in the sense that Doctorow does get a bit preachy in "Pirate Cinema", he makes extremely good (and important) points about the way art is being crafted and driven in our show more current world, and this story is a cautionary tale of what might happen if we don't pay more attention to our own liberties, artists or not.
I really connected with this book. Not just because I agree with most of Doctorow's points on copyfight, how the industry has hijacked the artists and their works, and how the consumer has to pay for it all - but because I myself love to create art (calling oneself an artist at this point seems extremely pretentious, so I won't do that) out of already existing works. I'll admit to creating fanfiction (my first fandom was "The X-Files", writing fic for that at 12/13 years old), which is a copyrighted intellectual property. I also love anime and manga - many of whose authors started as doujinka (or fanartists), creating doujinshi (fan comics) for their favorite series before being discovered or sending their work to Japanese publishers. And I'm afraid the amount of art that comes out of that industry will start to disappear, as Japan has started passing piracy laws dangerously close to the ones Doctorow has talked about in his book (and of which an actual infant version exists in the UK now, along with its admittedly failed French brother).
Let's not forget how "Fifty Shades of Grey" and "Gabriel's Inferno" got their beginnings - yep, you got it, from "Twilight" fanfiction. Meyer could have sued, but she didn't. Granted, the authors did a lot of rearranging with the characters, but if you've read "Twilight" (yes, I have, I'm not really proud of that), you can see where things have been changed within "Fifty Shades" in terms of characters and names.
So when it comes to the whole world of fan art/fic/etc, copyfight, piracy, and all of the trappings that come with it, I've been waiting for a book for the YA market that would bring it down to the YA level without talking down to the audience, able to explain things clearly, and give a clear layout of both sides of the argument. Ladies and gents, while admittedly biased on Doctorow's part, this is that book.
While I wish that Doctorow had tortured/killed his darlings a little bit more in his book (especially concerning Trent and his family), I was pretty happy with the way everything came out. While Trent is a sympathetic character, I felt like he could have been moreso, but instead of just a person, he's a generation that's trying to create in a space that's getting smaller and smaller without big business trying to crowd its way in. In a huge way, Trent is a placeholder, a metaphor for what's happening right now with the internet concerning how one creates art, and how it might have awful repercussions that should not be there in the first place (or at least, have them severely scaled back). I loved all of these characters - they were all sympathetic, warm, and believable. And while Doctorow didn't create one person as an antagonist, he used the idea of a shadowy lobby system (not unlike the ones in currently place in the real world that helped produce SOPA, PIPA, and ACTA) - an enemy you can't really see or feel or even get a firm grasp upon, they're so slippery that once you think you've defeated them, they've started building up yet another threat to be focused on. I loved the way that was portrayed, both with the entertainment lobbyists and the pirates, because it's entirely true for both sides, and Doctorow makes that blatantly clear (even states as much for both sides of the copyfight) within the book.
The setting of the UK was perfect, considering how much copyfight shenanigans are currently going on with the law, House of Lords, and the ISPs, along with the entertainment lobby as a whole. Though this is in the near future, there was enough worldbuilding to make it completely believable and not much extra worldbuilding was needed mostly because so many of the struts that are already in place with ISPs and current piracy laws, as well as CCTV cameras (and in the US's case, unmanned aerial drones) invading one's privacy. I did love the technology that was created, both from trash and from professionals, and I loved the hackerspace mentality that was presented throughout the book. It was refreshing, and absolutely a delight to read about.
Admittedly, there isn't a lot of real "suffering" compared to most YA dystopians in this book that we've seen come out in the last few years. There's a lot of intellectual and creative suffering, but physical suffering? Not a lot of that. Which is why I call this more of a social commentary/politics book for YA with a tissue-thin layer of dystopia as the cherry on top. I feel like there should have been more hurting going on, but everything that Doctorow did worked. I can't complain when it has me going to everyone I can and talking about this book and the whole copyfight thing.
However, while there was an 'end' to this book, it didn't feel entirely finished (just as he ended "Little Brother"). So I'm really, really hoping for a second book or a companion book in the near future, maybe to talk about things more in other countries. Like Sweden and their own (I kid you guys not) political Pirate Party, which actually has a place in their diet. I would definitely love to read about that from a YA point of view.
This is an empowering book, and one from which the YA market will really learn. It takes balls to write about all of this in a way that leans so far toward the "creative commons culture", and Doctorow has huge ones. It'll get the conversation started and started well, which is why it makes my list of best books of 2012. Both cases in the copyfight argument get presented well, and easy to understand for this age group, and will hopefully educate and empower a whole new generation to keep the creative commmons culture going.
"Pirate Cinema" is out now from TorTeen/Macmillan in North America, and it's also available for free legally at Doctorow's website through the creative commons license (though I do really urge you to buy the book once you've read it). This is one book that will definitely get everyone talking, no matter what side of the copyfight you're on.
(posted to goodreads, shelfari, librarything, and birthofanewwitch.wordpress.com) show less
I really connected with this book. Not just because I agree with most of Doctorow's points on copyfight, how the industry has hijacked the artists and their works, and how the consumer has to pay for it all - but because I myself love to create art (calling oneself an artist at this point seems extremely pretentious, so I won't do that) out of already existing works. I'll admit to creating fanfiction (my first fandom was "The X-Files", writing fic for that at 12/13 years old), which is a copyrighted intellectual property. I also love anime and manga - many of whose authors started as doujinka (or fanartists), creating doujinshi (fan comics) for their favorite series before being discovered or sending their work to Japanese publishers. And I'm afraid the amount of art that comes out of that industry will start to disappear, as Japan has started passing piracy laws dangerously close to the ones Doctorow has talked about in his book (and of which an actual infant version exists in the UK now, along with its admittedly failed French brother).
Let's not forget how "Fifty Shades of Grey" and "Gabriel's Inferno" got their beginnings - yep, you got it, from "Twilight" fanfiction. Meyer could have sued, but she didn't. Granted, the authors did a lot of rearranging with the characters, but if you've read "Twilight" (yes, I have, I'm not really proud of that), you can see where things have been changed within "Fifty Shades" in terms of characters and names.
So when it comes to the whole world of fan art/fic/etc, copyfight, piracy, and all of the trappings that come with it, I've been waiting for a book for the YA market that would bring it down to the YA level without talking down to the audience, able to explain things clearly, and give a clear layout of both sides of the argument. Ladies and gents, while admittedly biased on Doctorow's part, this is that book.
While I wish that Doctorow had tortured/killed his darlings a little bit more in his book (especially concerning Trent and his family), I was pretty happy with the way everything came out. While Trent is a sympathetic character, I felt like he could have been moreso, but instead of just a person, he's a generation that's trying to create in a space that's getting smaller and smaller without big business trying to crowd its way in. In a huge way, Trent is a placeholder, a metaphor for what's happening right now with the internet concerning how one creates art, and how it might have awful repercussions that should not be there in the first place (or at least, have them severely scaled back). I loved all of these characters - they were all sympathetic, warm, and believable. And while Doctorow didn't create one person as an antagonist, he used the idea of a shadowy lobby system (not unlike the ones in currently place in the real world that helped produce SOPA, PIPA, and ACTA) - an enemy you can't really see or feel or even get a firm grasp upon, they're so slippery that once you think you've defeated them, they've started building up yet another threat to be focused on. I loved the way that was portrayed, both with the entertainment lobbyists and the pirates, because it's entirely true for both sides, and Doctorow makes that blatantly clear (even states as much for both sides of the copyfight) within the book.
The setting of the UK was perfect, considering how much copyfight shenanigans are currently going on with the law, House of Lords, and the ISPs, along with the entertainment lobby as a whole. Though this is in the near future, there was enough worldbuilding to make it completely believable and not much extra worldbuilding was needed mostly because so many of the struts that are already in place with ISPs and current piracy laws, as well as CCTV cameras (and in the US's case, unmanned aerial drones) invading one's privacy. I did love the technology that was created, both from trash and from professionals, and I loved the hackerspace mentality that was presented throughout the book. It was refreshing, and absolutely a delight to read about.
Admittedly, there isn't a lot of real "suffering" compared to most YA dystopians in this book that we've seen come out in the last few years. There's a lot of intellectual and creative suffering, but physical suffering? Not a lot of that. Which is why I call this more of a social commentary/politics book for YA with a tissue-thin layer of dystopia as the cherry on top. I feel like there should have been more hurting going on, but everything that Doctorow did worked. I can't complain when it has me going to everyone I can and talking about this book and the whole copyfight thing.
However, while there was an 'end' to this book, it didn't feel entirely finished (just as he ended "Little Brother"). So I'm really, really hoping for a second book or a companion book in the near future, maybe to talk about things more in other countries. Like Sweden and their own (I kid you guys not) political Pirate Party, which actually has a place in their diet. I would definitely love to read about that from a YA point of view.
This is an empowering book, and one from which the YA market will really learn. It takes balls to write about all of this in a way that leans so far toward the "creative commons culture", and Doctorow has huge ones. It'll get the conversation started and started well, which is why it makes my list of best books of 2012. Both cases in the copyfight argument get presented well, and easy to understand for this age group, and will hopefully educate and empower a whole new generation to keep the creative commmons culture going.
"Pirate Cinema" is out now from TorTeen/Macmillan in North America, and it's also available for free legally at Doctorow's website through the creative commons license (though I do really urge you to buy the book once you've read it). This is one book that will definitely get everyone talking, no matter what side of the copyfight you're on.
(posted to goodreads, shelfari, librarything, and birthofanewwitch.wordpress.com) show less
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Writer and activist Cory Doctorow was born in Toronto, Canada on July 17, 1971. In 1999 he co-founded a free software company called Opencola and served as Canadian Regional Director of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. For four years he worked as European Affairs Coordinator for the Electronic Frontier Foundation and in 2007 won show more its Pioneer Award. His first novel, Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, won a Locus Award for Best First Novel. His short story collection A Place So Foreign and Eight More won a Sunburst Award, and his bestselling novel Little Brother received the 2009 Prometheus Award, a Sunburst Award, and the John W. Campbell Memorial Award. Doctorow also writes nonfiction books and articles, and he co-edits the blog Boing Boing. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
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remix artist, driven weirdo, public domain enthusiast - First words
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