<p>"A recently-published novel by Harvard undergraduate Kaavya Viswanathan 08, “How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life,” contains several passages that are strikingly similar to two books by Megan F. McCaffertythe 2001 novel “Sloppy Firsts” and the 2003 novel “Second Helpings.” "</p>
<p>Not sure if the author did this not realizing she shouldn’t, if it was unintentional, or on purpose. I remember reading that the author got the book deal when she was in HS.</p>
<p>Elias Cannetti in his memoir mentions a young woman he met in Vienna in the early 30s. She was showing him her writings and the similarity to Dostoevski was so profound that he accused her of plagerism. Yet he could not find the exact passages in the Russian author’s writing. It turns out that the young woman was so taken with Dostoevski that she had internalized his style. I think this may be what has happened here.
I notice that the young woman at Harvard has not copied anything worth looking up in someone else’s writing in order to copy. She may be a bright young woman who has a good memory of books she liked. If she were actually copying I think she would have had the brains to at least change the number of stores from 170 to 156, which is not only different but has, IMHO, a nicer rhythm.</p>
<p>So…having been on judicial board hearings…I have to say that people smart enough to get into Harvard must also be smart enough to keep track of their “inspiration.” There are just far too many near- or full-matching quotes. I guess my question would be - how does someone internalize “170 specialty shops”? Unless there is a mall I don’t know of that advertises “Now featuring 170 specialty shops!” And even then, it would probably be “Shoppes.” :D</p>
<p>I’m wondering–if she did this intentionally–if it was because she was under pressure. The publisher gave her a $500,000 advance while she was still in high school based on a book that was not yet finished.</p>
<p>Among other things, based on the ad in the NY Times today, the author of the books allegedly copied has #3 out right now. This looks like wonderful publicity!!! </p>
<p>The examples in the Crimson–particularly the diet coke from Mrs. Fields/Cinnabon and the pink tube top with a glittery Playboy bunny–seem like plagiarism to me.</p>
<p>Mootmom, thanks for the link. After taking a look at the excerpts, I could not help thinking that truth lies within a little and certain compass, but error is immense.
Oh, yes … quote … unquote.</p>
<p>I don’t remember where I read she was in HS. This article (link below) says she was 17 when she snagged the deal. (There is also a link to the first chapter of the book.)</p>
<p>I can’t get over this phraseology from a prof at Harvard quoted in another Crimson article on the topic: " it looks as though some strong version of anxiety of influence could clearly be detected in How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life, all the more so because of those miniscule variations that change Human Evolution to Psych in the hope of making the result less easily googleable. </p>
<p>" some strong version of anxiety of influence" Translation please?</p>
<p>The Anxiety of Influence, is a book and a theory by Yale Prof. Harold Bloom. It refers to the impulse in authors to struggle with their literary predecessors in matters of art, tradition and influence (literally overcome them in literary/creative value). Thus, an anxiety of imitation attaches to most authors that tends to inhibit and inspire creation.</p>
<p>The Boston Globe carries a front page (!) article on this topic and quotes one of the Little Brown editors as saying that the manuscript got shaped more than usual. While in no way condoning what the student-author has done, I place a large part of the blame on her editors. Why, while they were “shaping” the manuscript, did they not catch the similarities to this other book, some 300,000 copies of which reportedly have been sold? It didn’t take long for someone on the Harvard Crimson to have noticed.</p>