Pirate Cinema, by Cory Doctorow

Trent McCauley, a.k.a. Cecil B. DeVil, has a problem.  The hero of Cory Doctorow's Pirate Cinema, Trent is an auteur who makes films from edits of other films.  The problem is that the films he uses as his source material are protected by copyright.  When law enforcement tracks down his illegal downloading, his whole family's internet usage is shut off.  In shame, he flees to London and tries to make it on his own.

He quickly falls in with a group of other homeless kids and learns to thrive by squatting in an abandoned pub, picking edible discards from the garbage bins of restaurants and grocery stores, and begging.  But he also hooks up with a group that shows their video creations around town, and he becomes more prolific and proficient in his video mashups.  He and his new friends run afoul of newly draconian copyright laws and lead a popular revolt to get them changed.

Pirate Cinema is first of all the coming-of-age story of an artist in a new genre.  Trent becomes a trend setter who makes sacrifices for his art.  But it's also a political statement on the limits of copyright law.  Doctorow's message, which is familiar to his readers, is that art should be freely shared and used as inspiration.  Laws that penalize, even imprison, others for illegally downloading creative works are a crime against civilization itself.

While I enjoyed the story of Trent, his spirited girlfriend and comrade-at-arms, and their assorted crew of smart, talented and engaging friends, Doctorow's overall point is lost on me.  He would argue that creative artists like Trent are continuing an artistic tradition.  Trent doesn't profit from the clips he downloads, he uses them as building blocks for his own creations.  But Trent and his friends envision a world in which downloads are always free and available.  Doctorow paints the big movie houses and record labels as the villains.  But what about the up-and-coming film maker or musician, who wants to sell some records or theater tickets so he or she can earn a living making their art?  Don't they deserve compensation?

I should point out that Doctorow's integrity is totally intact.  While you can buy a physical copy of his books or purchase the ebooks on Amazon, all of his books are available for free at his web site, craphound.com/pc/download/.  Many artists do distribute their work for free, using other revenue streams like online ads or ticket sales for live events as alternative compensation.  But I am not sure that model is for everyone. 

All this to say, Pirate Cinema is an enjoyable story, but Doctorow steps out on an ideological limb.  Copyright law is certainly something to discuss, especially in our rapidly-changing environment of downloads and social media.  But I can't wrap my mind around a world in which an artist (or inventor or any other creative type) doesn't have the assurance that his intellectual property is well-protected.