After it became known that Hanslow Jin had declared a sick leave and left for France, the reaction among London's citizens was nothing short of a hornet's nest being stirred.
"Hanslow Jin in Paris?! Paaaaaris?!"
"Don't be ridiculous!! Why should our beloved British Empire's favorite author be taken by those damned frogs?!"
"The publisher must explain this immediately!!"
For Britain, France had always been a rival since the Hundred Years' War. This animosity only intensified after Britain successfully thwarted Napoleon's attempt to unify Europe and claim the divine mandate to become a second Rome.
The relationship between France and England is far more melancholic and intricate than a mere conflict between the first and second place, or a neighborly quarrel. Their traditional rivalry is further fueled by the fact that while Britain triumphed in power, France won in culture, leaving their superiority undecided.
If only they could rank their nations by GDP or GNP each year, perhaps one side could bear the magnanimity of a victor... but in this era, such rankings don't exist.
So, naturally, the narrative of both nations converged into a single line.
"Losers, defeated in the Napoleonic Wars and the Franco-Prussian War, you frogs!"
"What? Can't hear you over your third-rate culture! Go eat some jellied eels!"
And people, being the creatures they are, tend to be more insulted by accusations of ignorance than by being called weaklings. So, like their queen, the British also sought power through 'culture,' and one answer that emerged was their fervor for the heroic knight of literature.
But now.
One of the leading figures of that literary movement, Hanslow Jin, had gone to France?
And right after finishing Peter Perry?
"Why, oh why!!"
"It's sad enough that Hanslow Jin is gone, but no Peter Perry is even worse!!"
"But isn't there still Vincent Villiers and DawnBringer...?"
"Those are monthly!! Who are you kidding?!"
The readers, already accustomed to the weekly serialization of Peter Perry, were left disillusioned by the slow trickle of monthly publications, making them all the more resentful of Hanslow Jin's vacation.
And more than anything, they yearned for his writing.
All the conditions had come together.
If this desire—this demand—was left unmet... well, that wouldn't be very British, would it? The merchants of Britain, who wouldn't hesitate to sell opium to make a profit, certainly wouldn't let such an opportunity slip by.
"So, Hanslow Jin is gone, huh?"
"If only we could fill this massive void in demand left by his absence..."
"What are you waiting for?! Round up the washed-up writers, the students who used to write smut! We're starting a magazine company!"
Even in the 19th century, without the internet, smut was never unpopular. Didn't smut contribute to both the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars?
There are even tales of legendary homosexual literature, imported from the East, circulating among noblewomen—though these stories have never been confirmed...
In any case, there was an abundant supply of aspiring writers ready to churn out cheap stories for low-cost pulp magazines.
And so, London saw a sudden surge in print shops, studios, and weekly magazines.
... Of course, those who jumped into this venture were typically second or third-tier capitalists, who were nowhere near the top of the ladder.
To the truly elite, whose affairs were conducted in secrecy, these upstarts were no different from moths flying into a flame.
"I hear Rothschild is backing them?"
"There's a rumor Buckingham Palace is watching them closely."
"Even if that's not true, isn't the publishing world tightly controlled by George Newnes? That's not a place you just walk into."
"Haha, anyone thinking of challenging them... might as well be asking for death."
They all thought the same.
A wise merchant knows where to lie down to stretch their legs and live a long life.
George Newnes alone was a tycoon comparable to them, but if Rothschild and the royal family were also involved, well, it was better to chalk it up as sour grapes and back off.
Why did they initiate the Opium Wars back then, you ask? That wasn't a place to lie down—it was a place to feast. Besides, Nathan Mayer Rothschild is far scarier than any savage chieftain.
"Soon, we'll see cheap auction goods flooding the market."
"Hahaha. We should just watch the wedding and eat some cake."
"Oh, isn't that a line from Vincent Villiers?"
"You're well-read. I hear the confectioners are now standardizing white, five-tier wedding cakes."
"Haha, the pastry chefs must be working hard."
"Anyway, on to the next topic. I hear there's something going on in South Africa—"
And so, the age of piracy, teeming with pirated works, began.
Some would call it the age of romance.
***
"So."
After hearing Bentley's explanation, I nodded and said, "So there are so many of these things imitating my writing style."
"Yes, indeed, sir! It's so frustrating, I can't even describe it!!"
Hmm. Is it that severe?
I looked at Bentley with a bit of skepticism. Is it really such a huge deal?
Perhaps sensing my doubt, Maria, the editor who had brought the magazines, calmly explained.
"Actually, sir, ever since these plagiarized magazines started appearing, our sales for Weekly Temple have dropped significantly."
"Hmm, by how much?"
"At least 20%."
"Hmm."
That much of a drop is certainly worrisome.
Even when web novels were serialized, if the number of readers fell below a certain threshold within 24 hours, it would usually result in a decrease in revenue.
For reference, the most critical threshold is around 1,000 readers. Anything below that is considered a failure.
So, a 20% drop? Losing one out of every five...
"Is it related to the conclusion of Peter Perry?"
"Even accounting for that, it's still too much."
Indeed, other writers currently serializing in Weekly Temple are also well-known.
In other words, it means that even these well-known authors... aren't quite capturing what readers expect from weekly serialization.
"Bentley, have you suggested to other authors to follow my format? Like using shorter sentences or a one-chapter conclusion format?"
"I've certainly considered countermeasures. But... you know how proud established authors are."
That's true.
I had to nod at that remark.
There's no need to even mention Oscar Wilde as an example; authors are subsets of artists, and artists are often... highly individualistic.
Those who dig into their inner selves to express their individuality and create are hardly ever lacking in personality.
But to ask them to imitate someone else's individuality? That's practically asking an artist to be "better off dead!"
It's no different in genre fiction.
Even though people who don't read mainstream fiction dismiss it as "generic with erased individuality," the genre demands that within its narrow trends, authors maximize their unique style to establish their mark.
That's why those who look down on this genre often end up failing and blaming the readers. After all, readers are not fools.
"And, sir, isn't that essentially... plagiarism? Given that..."
"Not plagiarism."
"That's not the case."
Both Arthur Conan Doyle and I said simultaneously.
But it can't be helped.
Among these magazines, only a few pieces can truly be considered plagiarism.
At most, two or three?
What's fundamentally the difference between plagiarism, generic writing, and homage?
Contrary to common misunderstandings, it's not the expressions but the ideas, concepts, and formats that aren't subject to plagiarism.
What is considered plagiarism is how one interprets and develops these concepts.
For example:
Wuxia is fundamentally a genre that mimics the idea of "heroic martial arts" created by Jin Yong, akin to Eastern Tolkien.
So, does that mean all wuxia outside Jin Yong is plagiarism?
No.
The way a writer interprets and develops the themes of "hero" and "martial deeds" varies greatly.
Is a martial hero the one who practices martial arts, or must they emit sword qi to be considered a hero?
In terms of heroic deeds, is it about following a grand cause without reward, or repaying personal grudges even at the cost of that cause?
Such interpretations are as numerous as there are authors, and it all depends on how they interpret and mimic the idea.
While directly copying settings like the Shaolin Temple might be problematic, it's more of a vestige of fictional history...
So, plagiarism is distinguished by directly copying sentences or characters.
Therefore, clichés often play a significant role in this market.
There's a saying, isn't there?
The fun of a parody is knowing the original, an homage wishes you knew the original, and plagiarism is not knowing it was originally done.
It's even simpler in dialogue:
—Ah, this! Hahaha!
—Oh...! This?!
—... Huh? This?
And in some ways, detective fiction is even more intense.
Ultimately, there are limits to the kinds of crimes a person can devise.
"My Sherlock Holmes was also heavily influenced by Edgar Allan Poe and Émile Gaboriau. So, does that mean Sherlock Holmes is plagiarism too?"
"Oh, no! That's not the case."
"Anyway, we'll discuss that later. For now, it's clear that according to those standards, there are indeed works that can be considered plagiarism."
For example, Bentley showed me a magazine.
It was a piece called Brownie Bevin, which seemed to imitate Peter Perry.
Especially this part:
—Clumsy! Really clumsy!! It was fun! Playing with you!
—Bevin!!
—I wish you'd just forget that name already.
—Bevin gestured.
Following his gesture, black moths emerged everywhere, flapping their wings.
Each time, they swirled gray powder and enveloped Bevin's body.
The part where the character Lys reveals he is Oberon in my work was copied verbatim.
This is... well, with the exact sentences and even the stage directions unchanged, it's blatant plagiarism.
"In a way, this is why I was so angry! You spent days and nights here creating this scene...! It's infuriating!"
"Hmm, this is indeed..."
Alright, let's send this to Rothschild.
The lawyers will handle it.
"So what we did in response was..."
"Yes, I was writing a new work here."
Of course, The Valley of Fear was already being serialized in Strand Magazine, so it wasn't a Sherlock Holmes story.
This piqued my interest.
"May I see it?"
"Well, it's still under review. It seems difficult to match my style."
"Still, you must have a rough outline or something."
"Well, it's not much, but I'll tell you. It's called The Story of General Gerard."
It's just a working title, though.
He added cautiously.
"Ah."
The Story of General Gerard. I suddenly felt the weight of changing history.
Because in the original history, it was probably The Story of Brigadier Gerard, not General Gerard.
I thought there would be many changes.
"Is it a story like Don Quixote?"
"Yes, for the most part. I've been experimenting with various things after hearing your story, but it's not easy."
He shrugged and shook his head.
"You might think it's easy, but... just reducing the sentences is a challenge. Deciding what to cut and what to emphasize is a major concern."
Indeed, it's an era where complex sentences are in vogue. Changing a lifetime of writing style overnight wouldn't be easy.
The writer infuses every sentence, and every detail with meaning, and cutting that out... isn't easy at all.
"Anyway, sir. We can't just sit idle. We need to respond, whether through a lawsuit or otherwise."
Bentley spoke cautiously beside me. His point was valid, and while blunt, his response was accurate.
But.
"No, I don't think we have much to do."
"What!? Why not?"
"Well..."
Didn't Sir Arthur Conan Doyle already provide the answer?
I smiled at him.
"In this market, the answer is always the same."
Only Fun. And.
"They lack that."
It's not enough to merely imitate.