When Joey had his accident I was about 150 pages from the end of John Irving’s A Prayer for Owen Meany. That was my book group’s pick for July and our meeting was scheduled for a few days later. I had been having very strong and very negative feelings about the book and it was just too much to process at the same time as the accident. I ended up taking a break from the book and skipping the meeting. I did come back to it, though, and now I’ve finished it.
I have a lot of complaints about this book but I’ll just write about one of them for now. It was a total rip-off of one of my all-time favorite books, Robertson Davies’ Fifth Business. I boldly told Doulicia, who happens to be in my book group, that if Robertson Davies was still alive, and in a litigious mood, he could probably sue Irving for plagiarism. She answered with a challenge. “Is it plagiarism,” she asked, “or homage?”
Good question! Let’s compare the two novels. I made a little table listing some of the things the two books have in common, with differences in boldface. It’s been a while since I last read Fifth Business so this may not be an exhaustive list, but these are the things that jumped out at me:
| Owen Meany | Fifth Business | |
|---|---|---|
| Central event | boy accidentally hits woman on head with baseball; act results in a death |
boy accidentally hits woman on head with snowball; act results in a birth |
| Characteristics of woman who was hit | ethereal beauty; perceived by some as “simple;” has extramarital sex with a priest; boy believes she’s an angel; symbolized by a dressmaker’s dummy | ethereal beauty; perceived by some as “simple”; has extramarital sex with a tramp; boy believes she’s a saint; symbolized by a statue |
| Characteristics of narrator | lifelong bachelor; grows up to become crusty-but-tenderhearted teacher in private boarding school; religion/church central part of his life; has finger amputated | lifelong bachelor; grows up to become crusty-but-tenderhearted teacher in private boarding school; religion/church central part of his life; has leg amputated |
| Characteristics of narrator’s friend | stunted growth; no sense of humor; totally focused (Owen Meany) | stunted growth; no sense of humor; totally focused (Paul Dempster) |
| Structure of the novel | first-person narration by boy who observed the fateful baseball; flashbacks alternate between childhood and present; fateful baseball makes significant reappearance at end of novel | first-person narration by boy who observed the fateful snowball; flashbacks alternate between childhood and present; fateful snowball makes significant reappearance at end of novel |
| Major themes | guilt, redemption, forgiveness, Christianity, moral responsibility, mysticism/spirituality versus church ritual/dogma, evils of war (Vietnam) | guilt, redemption, forgiveness, Christianity, moral responsibility, mysticism/spirituality versus church ritual/dogma, evils of war (World War II) |
| Takes place in Canada | Partly | Mostly |
That’s a lot, don’t you think? Any one of those might be mere coincidence, particularly the themes — “guilt,” “redemption,” and “forgiveness” aren’t unique to Fifth Business, of course — but in the aggregate, that is a lot. If it isn’t plagiarism, it’s mighty close.
Owen Meany also has similarities to another Davies book, Tempest-Tost. Tempest-Tost, you may recall, is Davies’ viciously funny send-up of community theater productions. The ludicrous Christmas pageant scene in Owen Meany — baby Jesus with a visible erection, the fat boy left dangling in the wire harness, the cows with floppy antlers — that is pure Robertson Davies. Think Professor Vambrace with the grapes, the elderly and blind-as-a-bat makeup lady, the electrocuted horse: only the details differ. The subject matter, style, and humor are the same. (Aside: if I were going to write an homage to Davies, Tempest-Tost is not the book I’d choose to emulate. It’s my least favorite of his books. It’s hilarious, but too vicious: you can’t always tell if you’re laughing or crying. I did name my best-ever D&D character after someone in that book, however.)
I had that conversation with Doulicia right after the accident, when I still had those 150 pages to go. When I resumed reading I kept thinking about it. How would you know if it was intended to be homage? True, the narrator actually does mention Robertson Davies, about two-thirds of the way through. He says “If someone ever presumed to teach Charles Dickens or Thomas Hardy or Robertson Davies to my Bishop Strachan students with the same, shallow, superficial understanding that I’m sure I possess of world affairs — or even American wrongdoing — I would be outraged.” When I got to that sentence I thought hmm, if Irving is grouping Davies with Dickens & Hardy, well, that would indicate admiration, wouldn’t it?
Later on, Robertson Davies pops up again. And, interestingly, not just Robertson Davies but the two specific novels that I’d been obsessing about. He says:
And now — in my very own English Department — I must endure a woman of an apparently similar temperament, a woman whose prickly disposition is also upheaved in a sea of sexual contradictions . . . Eleanor Pribst!
She even quarreled with my choice of teaching Tempest-Tost; she suggested that perhaps it was because I failed to recognize that Fifth Business was “better.” Naturally, I have taught both novels, and many other works by Robertson Davies, with great — no, with the greatest — pleasure. I stated that I’d had good luck teaching Tempest-Tost in the past. “Students feel so much like amateurs themselves,” I said. “I think they find all the intrigues of the local drama league both extremely funny and extremely familiar.” But Ms. Pribst wanted to know if I knew Kingston; surely I at least knew that the fictional town of Salterton is easily identified as Kingston. I had heard that this was true, I said, although — personally — I had not been in Kingston.
“Not been!” she cried. “I suppose that this is what comes of having Americans teaching Can Lit!” she said.
“I detest the term ‘Can Lit,’ ” I told Ms. Pribst. “We do not call American Literature ‘Am Lit.’ I see no reason to shrivel this country’s most interesting literature to a derogatory abbreviation. Furthermore,” I said, “I consider Mister Davies an author of such universal importance that I choose not to teach what is ‘Canadian’ about his books, but what is wonderful about them.”
Now that’s homage!
I’m curious, by the way, to know if Davies does get taught in high school English classes in Canada. Personally, I can’t imagine teaching Tempest-Tost. The book is so mean-spirited and catty, plus it doesn’t have a lot to offer in terms of literary “depth.”
And I’m even more curious to know what you all think about the idea of homage. If you’ve read these particular novels, or judging from my table, do you think Irving went too far? What are some other examples of books that pay tribute to others?
21 Comments
Interesting. I’m “out of the loop” in that I haven’t read Davies’ novels, but I have to say I actually loved Owen Meany. Perhaps I’d love Fifth Business even more?
I’m with Kristy, here. Haven’t read Fifth Business, but liked (not loved) Owen Meany (I’m really not an Irving fan). Maybe I ought to try Davies out (I did start the Deptford Trilogy once, but got sidetracked…)
As for homage vs. plagiarism… I don’t know. I don’t elements of stories borrowed from others (like HP… Rowling borrows all the time, but does something different with them). Eragon bugged me because I thought it was ripped off from Lord of the Rings, though the similarities aren’t nearly as pronounced.
The Deptford trilogy (Fifth Business is the first novel) is more than just a favorite of mine. It had a major formative influence on me, as did the Cornish trilogy, which I alluded to in that meme I just did. I probably think of Robertson Davies at least once a day in various different contexts. So, yeah, you guys should give him a try! In fact, I’m about due for a re-read, myself…
I haven’t read Eragon, Melissa, but I have read my share of “high fantasy” novels that are, shall we say, derivative of LTR. In fact, with very few exceptions, the entire genre is derivative of LTR. Are all those authors paying homage? Or just lacking in creative vision?
Interesting question. The legal arguments for plagiarism are a lot more stringent, but I think you’re right that it could still be a “total rip-off”.
Unfortunately, I read (and enjoyed) Owen Meany years ago. I have a copy of The Deptford Trilogy that I picked up at a used book sale last year (despite knowing nothing about it), so if nothing else your post has made me move it up my ‘to read’ list.
Loved your post! I had no idea of any of this as I’ve never heard of Robertson Davies, but now plan to read Fifth Business. I’m one of those who LOVED Owen Meany…have been trying to get my bookclub to choose it for a year now. We chose “The Brothers K” in March and many thought it was too long, so I stopped pushing for it. I’m glad I stopped suggesting it after reading this post. I was never a big Irving fan before reading Owen Meany then became quite vocal in my admiration of the book. One of my sons gave me his latest “Until I Find You” for Christmas and I just can’t get into it. (It’s end of July and I’m still picking it up sporatically and have 1/4 to go) I’m just amazed at those comparisons you made…and, yep…I’d go with plagarism rather than homage. I just finished reading “Stones from the River” with a dwarf as a main character and I thought it was great…and both authors are cited as paying homage to the guy who wrote “The Tin Drum” (Gunter Grasse??), but all those similarities you have found smacks of plagarism to me.
I spent a couple days this week madly searching for the perfect novel to begin the school year. The Internet indicates that Fifth Business is a standard novel taught in Canadian high schools.
Also, the two editorial reviews cited on Amazon.com for A Prayer for Owen Meany both note that it is derivative of Fifth Business. (One also cites Gunther Grass’ Tin Drum.)
I haven’t read Owen Meany, but it does sound as if Irving intended an homage to Davies, even if the outcome was not 100% successful.
My 7th graders found that the book Hoot, by Karl Hiaasen, had many parallels to the book Holes, by Louis Sachar. I don’t know if the similarities reach the level of an homage.
How can you not pay homage to Tolkein? He pretty much invented the genre, didn’t he? That, and his work is so broad is scope, that someone’s bound to pay homage to him, either on purpose or accidentally, sometime.
What bugs me is not so much the homage as it is the copying either plot points or characters (which is what bugged me about Eragon). So, yeah, I can see where you’re coming from, there.
Sandy, yeah, I wasn’t really thinking of plagiarism in a legal sense as much as in a moral sense. I have read Fifth Business enough times that I’m pretty sure I’d recognize if Irving had lifted actual language.
Linda, I’ve never read The Tin Drum but my understanding is that there are many similarities between the main character in that book and Owen Meany: shared initials, shared stunted growth, shared unchanged voice.
Aunt Sara, you know that I have you to thank for Robertson Davies, right? You do remember that meal at your parents’ house — it might have even been the first time we met — where you told me all about the Deptford trilogy and the paper you wrote in college? It was your glowing description that sent me RUNNING to the library.
Melissa, is it possible to pay homage “accidentally?” It seems to me that paying homage would have to be a deliberate, carefully-considered act. Otherwise, it’s just derivative/plagiarism/a rip-off.
Aw, shucks. I’m glad if my enthusiasm led you to Davies, but you have certainly surpassed me as a fan.
I was amused last summer when Cousin Verity and her new husband credited me with helping to bring them together over Robertson Davies. I had apparently given her a copy for Christmas one year. On their first date, her Canadian beau mentioned this author, and Verity said, “Oh yeah, he’s great.” (She hadn’t read the book.) He was deeply impressed that she had heard of the celebrated Canadian man of letters, so little appreciated in the U.S., (plus Verity is gorgeous and charming) so the relationship took off from there.
Hmm. Does this story qualify Davies as a romance novelist?
I read the Tin Drum and loathed it–and I can see similarities to Owen Meany, about which I feel ambivalent. I tried really hard to like Robertson Davies, Julie, because you love him, but it just didn’t strike a chord with me. I did think he was more original than Irving, for sure–Irving is too “best-sellerish” for me. It’s not the volume of novels he sells that bug me but that he seems to be writing to sell. Anyway . . .
The mention of Brothers K above is another instance of homage–it parallels The Brothers Karamazov (suddenly I can’t remember how to spell that!) unabashadly–in fact, that’s the point. And I loved that one. I think borrowing is perfectly acceptable in literature if there is a justifiable literary reason for it–because so much of literature, especially 20th century, is a dialogue, much like 20th century art. Borrowing because of laziness, however, is despicable.
Sara, I didn’t know that about Verity. Yes, I think it qualifies! :)
Inkling, I haven’t read Brothers K, but it seems that the difference between it and Owen Meany is that in the former the “borrowing” is OBVIOUS. The conversation with Eleanor Pribst doesn’t take place until close to the end of the novel, and it’s not central to the plot. There’s no reason why it couldn’t have occurred at the beginning. And if Irving just wanted to give Robertson Davies a tip o’ the hat, that conversation alone would have been perfectly sufficient.
I think borrowing (within limits) is perfectly acceptable too. I mean, Tolkien may have invented a genre, but he didn’t invent The Heroic Quest and he didn’t invent Norse mythology either. But I think Irving went too far.
OK, I’m in the middle of Hoot right now, and really *not* seeing so many parallels with Holes. Maybe later in the book.
Where I did see huge parallels in children’s books (in plot, not so much in characters or style) were in two earlier Newbery winners: “Missing May” and this year’s “The Higher Power of Lucky” (but see here for why I don’t think Patron ripped off Rylant).
I love your chart! I think our minds must work in similar ways; that’s exactly how I would have tried to sort out the extent of the similarities. I’m a huge Robertson Davies fan and was at one time a John Irving fan as well but for some reason I stopped reading him before “A Prayer for Owen Meany” came out. The discussion about what is fitting homage and what is going too far reminds me of the debate around Zadie Smith’s “On Beauty” which very closely paralleled E.M. Forster’s “Howard’s End” as deliberate homage. I found “On Beauty” mildly entertaining but have never read “Howard’s End.” However, when reading reviews of “On Beauty” written by fans of “Howard’s End,” I could certainly sympathize with their feelings about it which seem to echo what you’ve said here about “Owen Meany” and “Fifth Business” (see, for example, what Victoria wrote about “On Beauty” at Eve’s Alexandria here: http://evesalexandria.typepad.com/eves_alexandria/2006/05/on_disappointme.html).
Well, darn it, I haven’t read Hoot or Holes or On Beauty or Howard’s End! Even so, I enjoyed the review you linked to, Kate — thanks! And I’m glad you liked the chart! This is the first time I ever did the first draft of a post on PAPER.
I must confess, though, that I’ve never been a big fan of Irving. I would never have read Owen Meany if it hadn’t been my book group’s pick, and I had other quibbles with it besides the Fifth Business business.
The only Davies I have read are his short ghost stories and What’s Bred in the Bone, but last month I bought his Deptford Trilogy and have been waiting to read it. Looks like it’s about time.
Is it a blatant rip-off if something is so embedded in your mind that you don’t really think about it as you’re writing?
I guess that’s what I mean by “accidentally”. Sometimes, we read and re-read a book because we love it, so we internalize elements of it. Those, in turn, show up in our own writing. (I know I’m guilty of this during the time when I was attempting to be a fiction writer.)
Coming late to the discussion here (or not, since perhaps I instigated it?). Another pair along the Brothers K/Brothers Karamzov line: Little Women (Alcott) and The Little Women (Weber).
I raise this, Julie, because I know you’ve read both and adore the former. I can’t remember your feelings about The Little Women, which intentionally paralleled its namesake.
Given the excellent, helpful (really) chart you included (were you just showing off your HTML skills?), I am convinced Irving knew what he was doing and fully intended this book to be a reworking of, nay an homage to, Fifth Business. The excerpt you quote removes all doubt. He’s winking to all who know Davis and his book.
Finally, in the homage category, has anyone else read Gloria Naylor’s “Mama Day,” which is homage to Zora Neale Hurston’s “Their Eyes Were Watching God?” They were a fun pair…
“Is it a blatant rip-off if something is so embedded in your mind that you don’t really think about it as you’re writing?” Melissa, I know exactly what you mean. I believe that was George Harrison’s excuse when he was sued for plagiarism in the “He’s So Fine” versus “My Sweet Lord” case. I agree it’s accidental, but at the same time I wouldn’t call it homage. To me homage means doing it on purpose as a way of expressing admiration to the original author.
Doulicia, yeah, I was showing off. I even included the scope attribute for superior accessibility. Thanks for noticing. :) But I think you’re right, Owen Meany was intended as homage. But in my opinion he did a bad job of it. He should have had that quoted excerpt at the beginning of the book. And my chart should have been MUCH smaller. He went too far.
I did think about The Little Women. That was definitely homage. I don’t remember having as strong feelings about that one as I did about Owen Meany. Maybe because it was obvious from the very beginning, and it was kind of fun looking out for the specific references.
Alright, after reading all of this I can’t resist participating in at least a small degree. I noticed a similarity between the books right away; but didn’t realize the large extent until reading your table (I read 5th business a couple of times — but it’s been a lot of years. It’s time to go back to Davies I think.)
I remember a dispute of sorts that I had with a friend over the Tom Stoppard play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. I saw it as a tribute to Hamlet; where my friend saw it as a total rip-off. When I mentioned the dispute to my poet friend Laura, she stated ‘art is supposed to be a conversation!!’
With Stoppard, he took an element from Hamlet and ran with it. This is what a conversation should be I think — elaborating on each others ideas, that is. Irving seems to have simply regurgitated Davies. What a boring conversation. So Julie, I think you’re right that he did his homage intentionally, but badly. Perhaps he should have taken ‘Can.Lit’. :-)
I must confess to enjoying Owen Meaney — I think it’s because I’m a megalomaniacal fatalist myself…
It’s been many years since I read either book, but I did read Fifth Business first (in high school) and now that I think about it there was a lot about Owen Meany that felt vaguely familiar at the time. But I just put it down to being on a John Irving kick; I never connected the two! Now it’s all so clear…
p.s. speaking of Canada– we’re moving for real!
p.p.s. I am in awe of your table-making skillz.
Les, I remember that dispute! I don’t see how anyone could view the Stoppard as a “rip-off.” I saw it performed at Stratford once, along with Hamlet, and they had the same actors playing the same roles and wearing the same costumes in both productions. It was SO cool. And I love what Laura said.
Elswhere — “I just put it down to being on a John Irving kick” — ha ha! Actually, that would be an interesting topic for a blog post, or maybe a meme: authors that, when you’ve read one, you’ve read ‘em all. And congrats on the upcoming move!