The Path to Originality
Looking at the book charts, one might infer that originality isn't too highly valued on book buyers' agendas. Want a new thriller? Try James Patterson – they're even handily numbered to help you tell them apart.
Enjoyed the Da Vinci Code and lithe 2005 rip-off The Rule of Four? Try this year's Holy Grail caper through France, Kate Mosse's Labyrinth. Fascinated by Jordan's 2004 warts-and-all biography? Then why not read it all over again in this week's number one bestseller, Jordan: A Whole New World. Obviously, the modern world consistently proves that nothing succeeds like imitation, but how many gently named Irish writers like Marian Keyes and Cathy Kelly can the market sustain? Sophie Kinsella's real name is Meredith – obviously wasn't Irish enough. This laziness just goes further and further these days. Dan Brown has now been in court on both sides of the Atlantic, accused (and acquitted) of plagiarism. Readers of his books might suggest he sues himself in future. Earlier this year, a British style writer had her $500,000 book deal withdrawn as it bore similarities to large parts of another journalist's work. Last year, a romantic novelist was charged with copying sentences directly from Jane Austen. Millions-selling author James Frey has been remorselessly discredited and had his contract cancelled for making up parts of his memoirs. And now a Harvard undergrad has pleaded "unconscious borrowing" of another's work when confronted with the blatant similarities between the texts by the original author. What's going on? How lazy have we become – or how willing to take the shortest path to a fulfilled book deal?
A 1980s childhood
The last we heard from David Mitchell was with his short ghost story centring on a remote abandoned cottage in some English woodlands. Featured in Granta's 2000 collection of Young British Writers, it wasn't greeted with much enthusiasm on publication. A few years later, the story still has a memorable creepiness and now it turns out that the abandoned cottage is in Black Swan Green – Mitchell has used the short story as the opening chapter of his fourth novel. Book Notes has to confess an almost blinding devotion to Mitchell who, over four novels, has proven himself a writer of extraordinary range, originality and invention. He finally achieved the popularity he deserves after the commercial and critical success of the often dazzling Man Booker Prize-nominated Cloud Atlas. That book and its two precursors, Ghostwritten and Number 9 Dream, contained a vast number of time spans, locations and distinct characters. Black Swan Green is much more restricted, featuring 13 stories of 13 year old stammering schoolboy Jason Taylor, growing up in 1980s England. The setting is familiar – writing of a 1980s childhood seems to be a rite of passage for British novelists these days. Mitchell's attempt seems more resonant, his detail more convincing. It also comes with his specialty – a non-linear plot, which keeps the reader fascinated as to where he is going to take us next – and there are early hints that it will be on this year's Man Booker list.
The Line of Beauty
The race for the Man Booker Prize of 2004 was a double header between the favourite, the aforementioned Cloud Atlas, and the eventual winner, The Line of Beauty. Alan Hollinghurst's reminiscence of 1980s Britain was not seen through childlike memory but through a kaleidoscope of Conservatism, cocaine and gay sex. It didn't get the same attention as Cloud Atlas, perhaps due to the sex scenes which grabbed most of the spotlight. Behind the hype was a funny, nostalgic coming-of-age novel set between two Tory elections in the mid 1980s. We now get to see the outdoor couplings and bad haircuts on screen as BBC2 begins televising Andrew Davies'serialisation of the book. Davies, the jewel in the BBC's drama crown, is best known for Pride and Prejudice and last year's Bafta Award-winning Bleak House. The three-part series runs on 17, 24 and 31 May on BBC2.