When one’s intellectual property is blatantly copied without the merest credit given to its author, does the offending party really expect passive acceptance without consequences?
In 1982 I published my first poetical anthology Bejn Ħaltejn, an early inaugural contribution that received favourable critical reviews by no fewer than five local writers in The Sunday Times of Malta, It-Torċa, Il-Malti, Il-Mument and Lil Ħutna and another two in the Maltese Australian press. Several years later a local Young Turk who suddenly became aware of this work googled deridingly on its incorrectly spelt title… according to him.
Upon publication of this first attempt in versification, I duly submitted copies of my compilation to the National Library in Valletta, the Library at Belt is-Sebħ and the Gozo Public Library.
With the above in mind, although my initial literary venture was not exactly a bestseller – whose poetry in Malta ever is, unless it is included in the local educational system? – it was certainly evidently widely noted!
Despite these facts, in recent times another poetry anthology carrying my original title of Bejn Ħaltejn suddenly appeared on the local books scene, brazenly with official approval and with impunity!
While it is not my intention to castigate the perpetrator/s of this copyright offence, and neither am I claiming any recompense, my principal point is to highlight these awkward occurrences which do not show those responsible for these happenings in a shining light.
Without wishing to rub salt into this open wound, in order to show that there are local elements who are willing to take certain risks if they think they can get away with a mere slap on the wrist, I will cite en passant, a number of other similar incidents concerning my ‘intellectual property’ within a Maltese context.
The first ever Maltese pop song to be written and recorded by me in Australia, ‘Bejn il-Ħbieb’ (1974), gave rise to a strong sense of national identity among all Maltese Australians and was the pioneering forerunner of a stream of similar ventures by previously inexistent musical pop groups, and several years later had its title adopted as the name of a popular Maltese songs programme on one of the local radio stations.
Another similar happening was when a local Maltese singer named one of his CD’s with the title of my first solo recording of my composition ‘Maltin u Għawdxin’ (1975).
Drifting away from the pop scene into the field of academe, I would also like to point out how one particular local writer decided to quote some of my ‘Maltralian’ vocabulary, evidently taken from my compilation The Maltese Language of Australia: Maltralian without paying due credit to the original work or authorship, which in this case is unique and could not have been cited from some other non-existent source.
Although I have treated these offences rather lightly concerning these copyright breaches of my intellectual property, they are far from trivial. The entire world uses the recognised ‘copyright’ system to guard against these abuses. It is a universal system that is witness to the severity with which offenders can be pursued. Is such plain courtesy too much to ask?