Cellist angry at Galloway

26 comments on “Cellist angry at Galloway”

1. cfg says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 11:06 am

   Oooh, this is a grey area, especially since Galloway was deliberate about leaving him unnamed and not putting words in his mouth. I dislike fictions about real people for the sense of entitlement they represent–the fictional account in Esquire of Heath Ledger’s last days sealed my views on the matter–but there is a fine line between inspiration and misappropriation here, and it looks like Galloway is on it, especially with the photo on the cover. Wonder if the reaction would have been the same without the cover photo?

2. Andrew says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 12:40 pm

   I don’t see a grey area at all.

   The cellist in the novel is a fictional character, unnamed, who occupies only the first few pages of the book. It’s not a novel about real people, it’s a novel about made-up people in a real historical setting.

   The photo is the only grey area, as it may violate the cellist’s right of publicity by using his image for a commercial purpose without his consent. But this has nothing to do with Galloway.

   This story does neatly put the lie to Galloway’s theme, though, as the cellist turns into another greedy little pig rooting at the trough.

3. cfg says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 2:48 pm

   Greedy little pig? The man whose courageous art inspired the novel? No, can’t agree with that, and I can see why he’d be upset to find his photo on the cover without permission. But Galloway’s responsibility is where it’s grey for me. Seems he was being careful about not appropriating by leaving him unnamed and without speech, and I have no problem with a fictional character resembling an historical one. But the cover art, along with the title, makes it complicated.

4. theresa says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 3:08 pm

   It’s not fair to assume that the cellist is greedy because he has discovered that he has been used (though apparently unnamed, is this correct?… which might be worse)in a way that he feels has fed on his sorrow, his loss. I remember reading about him and thinking that he showed tremendous heroism in the face of barbarism — to commemorate the victims of such terrible violence by playing a kind of requiem for each one in the ruined streets of Sarajevo. We are a long way from those streets and to make light of an individual’s courage under personal and civic duress is unfair, I think.

5. Andrew says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 4:02 pm

   The cellist is after compensation. Perhaps you folks missed that — it was the first sentence of the news story, so it would be easy to miss. He’s all upset at finding his story used, but gosh, a little money will make it all better.

   He has a case for compensation for the cover photo, legally speaking, which is the publisher’s blunder. But that’s it.

   His sorrow? His loss? The sorrow and loss of every Sarajevan has been used here. Is Galloway to compensate the entire city? Don’t ya think that, somehow, much of the day-to-day action in the novel is based on the experiences of Galloway’s interview subjects? Should they be compensated, too, because their experiences have been fictionalized?

   He seems to think there’s money here, and that he should get a slice of the pie. That’s about the whole story here.

6. theresa says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 4:32 pm

   Ah, but the novel was given a title which is a direct reference to a specific person. It’s not called The Sorrow and Loss of Every Sarajevan. So it’s this particular man who perhaps felt that it was his story which was being exploited — the thing that he did which the world (and preseumably the novelist) were drawn to wasn’t fictional. The photograph is not of a fictional Sarajevan. I for one can understand that someone might feel the way the cellist feels. I don’t know his circumstances now — a small village near Belfast is worlds away from Sarajevo, that’s for sure — but I can understand that he might feel bitter and hopeless about someone making money in a way that seems to him to have exploited his story.

7. Andrew says:
   July 18th, 2008 at 7:23 pm

   Theresa, I suggest you read the novel.

8. theresa says:
   July 19th, 2008 at 12:51 am

   Thanks, Andrew. I will. I’ve read SG’s earlier works and found them very fine. But this isn’t simply a case,as you’ve suggested, of a greedy pig rooting at the trough, some opportunist looking for easy money. Try looking at the Times piece online — I’m sorry that I can’t link. I’m not a techie…– for a more precise account of Vedran Smailovic’s position on this. He wasn’t one of the 25 people interviewed by SG so it was somewhat disingenuous to say that because none of those informants asked for compensation, it was unreasonable for Mr. Smailovic to suggest that it was improper for his particular tragedy to be used to sell books. He didn’t know about the use of his story until after the book was published. He said that he thought it was appalling that someone would use his story to make money and if that was the case, then those who had actually endured the siege of Sarajavo deserved some of the profits. I am not underestimating the time and talent involved in the creation of this work of fiction but I think that it raises lots of questions about the ethical use of personal material and the obligation of the writer to that material. And Smailovic wasn’t just background, convenient colour — obviously it was important enough to serve as a title for the novel. One can’t simply say, oh, well, the story has entered the public imagination and it was fine to use it uncredited — the composer David Wilde understood this when he used the story as inspiration for his composition recorded by Yo Yo Ma. I’d be interested to hear what others think of this. I’ve no wish to undermine the work of other writers in this country or any other but this particular story leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

9. Mary Soderstrom says:
   July 21st, 2008 at 9:23 am

   Haven’t read the book, so I can’t comment on how much space the cellist takes in it.

   A writer should never allow a censor to look over his or her shoulder when he or she is writing. That means not worrying about whose toes you are tredding on when you’re writing.

   But afterwards I think you have a resposibility as a human being to consider the ramifications to individuals of what will be published. Galloway is a fine writer with a good track record, but would his book received the initial buzz it is getting without the link to the cellist of Sarajevo and the use of his photo? I suspect not, and Galloway and/or his publisher owe the guy something.

   In a similar vein, last week I went looking for a story by Jeffrey Eugenides called “Early Music” as I begin a new fiction about some musicians. It is no longer on The New Yorker’s website although it was a couple of months ago,. What I did find was this diatribe [see link above] atby David Yearsley “Rodney and Me and the Harpsichord: a Challenge to Jeffrey Eugenides.” It would appear that Eugenides used a very identifiable Yearsley (who sublete the Eugenides’s apartment in Berlin) in the story, portraying him as an early music wimp.

   Not cricket.

   Mary

10. Nicole says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 10:29 am

    Let’s put the cellist aside for a sec ’cause this article brings up another issue.

    When someone recognizes themselves in a work of fiction, why is it that, for the most part, that someone reacts with anger, with threats to sue, instead of, say, pride or flattery? I have actually had people yell at me ’cause they think I have “stolen” their or someone else’s story/life/personality trait. #1. It’s fiction. #2. If my fictional character in any way resembles a real person, those resemblances are rendered respectfully and artistically. No character I create is ever an exact replica of someone real. And the same, I’m sure, can be said by most writers. #3. Does the anger come from the idea most people have that they’d have written their story if you hadn’t got to it first? I never get angry when the dentist cleans my teeth better than I ever could. Everyone thinks they’re a writer; not everyone thinks they’re a dentist. Or a cellist.

11. pete says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 11:27 am

    Reminds me of that anecdote (apocryphal?) about Atwood’s reply to a brain surgeon who said he hoped to write novels when he’d retired: “I hope to do brain surgery when I’m retired.” But that’s another topic.

    People do seem to regard their life/experience/character as intellectual property where writing and storytelling is concerned. Yet they line up eagerly to be sketched by a caricaturist at the market.

12. Mary Soderstrom says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 12:16 pm

    There is a difference between similarities and out right use of a person’s life. My first novel–The Descent of Andrew McPherson–revolves around a young woman who find herself pregnant by a guy she sort of likes. When it came out three women in my circle of friends and family thought I was writing about them. Not true: there were a lot of girls who found themselves in that situation when I was young. (Let’s hear it for oral contraceptives and legalizzed abortion, BTW.)

    But making fun of somebody (as Eugenides seems to have done: the character in the story really is a jerk) or using a person to promote a book without consent just isn’t fair.

    Mary

13. Degen says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 3:35 pm

    Just wrote something ’bout this on me blog. Get at it from the link in my name above. I came here to check and see if I was out of step with the crowd. Still don’t know.

    Anyway, stay tuned for my next novel “George Murray Owes Me a Beer.”

14. DGM says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 6:28 pm

    People do seem to regard their life/experience/character as intellectual property where writing and storytelling is concerned. Yet they line up eagerly to be sketched by a caricaturist at the market.

    Back in the sixties when the blues was popular, some blues musicians insisted on payment up front before they allowed themselves to be photographed, let alone recorded. These were poor people who understood they were selling a part of themselves in the transaction, something unique. The cellist might not be poor, but he certainly has a right to be asked before his likeness and/or character is used, and to negotiate a payment up front. If he went up to the publisher with a story to tell (i.e. going to the caricaturist), then that’s another matter.

    Kinda reminds me of another Margaret Atwood quote (attributed), one that a writing teacher told me. On the topic of using actual peoples’ likenesses in a work fiction: “Wait ’till they’re dead! Wait until they’re good and dead!”

15. Degen says:
    July 21st, 2008 at 8:27 pm

    Hey DMG,

    So, I find you over here as well.

    The blues was popular in the sixties?

    I think Galloway might have done everyone a favour and told Smailovic about the book in progress. I don’t believe he had any obligation to ask for permission, or pay anything. On the other hand, I get why he didn’t tell him. Or at least why I might not have told him under the same circumstances. That’s an invitation to creative interference (and I don’t mean that as negatively as it sounds). The interference might be extremely well-intentioned, but it would still interfere in Galloway’s work and project.

    Historical fact is by its nature public domain. Even historical fact attached to live people. It raises all sorts of interesting courtesy questions, but in my mind crosses no lines on intellectual property. There is nothing stopping Smailovic from cashing in on his own account of that time if he so chooses. In fact, Galloway may have made that possibility more likely.

    I wrote about a guy whose job it is to mind the Stanley Cup. Someone actually has that job, and I’ve never spoken to him. The difference, as far as I can see, is in the sales numbers.

16. DGM says:
    July 22nd, 2008 at 12:58 pm

    Degen:

    My understanding was that Galloway was writing about a specific person who was a cello player in Sarajevo. If Galloway wrote about a character inspired by the cellist in the photograph, then Smailovic has less of a claim. Re-reading the above excerpt, that seems to be the case. If, however, the publisher goes and sticks the actual photo of the actual cellist on the book cover, then the issue of who owns that character gets a bit muddy, in my non-lawyerly opinion. It’s possible that if the cover photo had never been used, then the legal case might never have gotten off the ground.

    Generally speaking, I think using actual people as characters is a bad idea. I read a ‘fiction’ piece a few years ago where Jon Entwhistle was the main character; cfg also mentions the Esquire piece about Heath Ledger. Even if the person being written about is dead, it still seems a bit unseemly to resort to using actual personages to fill out a story. Why not create a new character altogether? That way the writer can do whatever he or she wants without being hemmed in by historical facts or the opinions of still-living relatives and friends who will inevitably insist that the author got it all wrong somehow.

    BTW, blues was big in the sixties after The Rolling Stones and other British blues-based bands were popular. That’s when all the city folks started traipsing around Alabama and Mississippi looking for the real thing to document — Peter Guralnick wrote a few books on the phenomenon, and my incident with the bluesman demanding payment for a photo session comes from Guralnick.

17. brian p says:
    July 23rd, 2008 at 3:40 am

    This could have been Handelled better if Galloway had done better
    initial Chopin of publishers’ Liszts.

18. Degen says:
    July 23rd, 2008 at 9:19 am

    Really brian p? 3:40 a.m.? Are you Batman?

19. DGM says:
    July 23rd, 2008 at 11:58 am

    BTW, I found an interesting message board discussion (link in profile) where they discuss the issue of using actual people in works of fiction. Generally speaking: you’re in the clear as long as you’re not in either England or California.

20. brian p says:
    July 23rd, 2008 at 4:13 pm

    I also think Smailovic is Haydn behind his good name. Schu, Mann!

21. John McFetridge says:
    July 23rd, 2008 at 4:20 pm

    Hey Degen, you also had a game in the ‘51 finals end in regulation when all five went into overtime, so clearly you’ve played very fast and loose with the facts (everyone noticed that, right?)

22. Degen says:
    July 24th, 2008 at 10:16 am

    Right, except so far my fast and loose doesn’t involve the Russian mafia, or less than flattering portrayals of the police in my city. If some writer were to take on those things…

23. Monica says:
    July 24th, 2008 at 10:19 am

    I want to write a book involving the Russian Mafia, and Canadian Police.

24. michel says:
    July 24th, 2008 at 10:44 am

    Monica,

    before you start on that one, read Dirty Sweet to see what’s been covered.

25. Monica says:
    July 24th, 2008 at 2:09 pm

    are you telling me that my wonderful idea is already out there? is there nothing new to cover?

26. Terry says:
    October 5th, 2008 at 7:08 pm

    Would we expect Vedran Smailovic to have requested permission from the families of the twenty-two people who
    died waiting for bread, before he embarked upon his public tribute to them, even if such tribute brought him fame?
    Of course, people are allowed to choose what they are going to be outraged about, and Smailovic has the right to choose
    to be outraged about a sensitive, and exceptionally important book, inspired by his public actions. In the tragic circumstances,
    his reaction should be respected, but justice is not required to provide him with a remedy.

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