The Internationalisation of Copyright Law: Books, Buccaneers and the Black Flag in the Nineteenth Century (review)

Even specialists in intellectual property tend to regard copyright as the dismal step-sister of patent rights. Hence, the more casual reader should view with indulgence this title's alliterative and swashbuckling claims of its kinship with black flags and buccaneers. Instead, Seville has produced a meticulous and clearly written work that distinguishes itself from its predecessors by its comprehensive scope and depth.

Seville's monograph does not treat history (or the reading process) as evolution. The four primary sections discuss the Berne Convention, colonial (read Canadian) copyrights, international copyright in the United States, and British domestic laws. Chapter 2 presents a summary of each of these regions, and subsequent chapters elaborate on the same topics; this arrangement leads to repetition and an occasional sense of incoherence.

Chapter 3 highlights the well-known steps that led to the ratification of the Berne Convention. France took the lead in a series of bilateral treaties with its trading partners, and Germany and Britain later played key roles. As in all matters of international copyright, the United States lagged behind other major countries and, indeed, failed to qualify for entry to the Convention until 1988. Britain was not unequivocal, because it realized that Berne would fail to resolve the problems posed by its colonies and the United States.

Chapter 4 outlines the challenges for international copyrights that the reprint book trade in Canada presented. The Canadian account is especially illuminating, because of its status as a British colony that confronted the same economic incentives regarding international copyrights as its American neighbors. The historical narrative concludes in Chapter 6 with a rendering of domestic copyright law in Britain through 1911.

International copyright debates during this era were ensnared in the "American question," which occupies fully a third of this book. Seville states that American copyright piracy hurt publishers and retarded domestic literature, which begs the question of why legislators supported such strategies for over a century. Congress was not "indifferent" to grants of international copyright (320); it was actively opposed. In Seville's view, the U.S. reforms of 1891 occurred because "eventually national self-confidence grew to the point where copyright could be conceded to everyone" (146). It is difficult to imagine that buccaneers of any stripe are motivated by a lack of self-confidence.

Copyright has always comprised a morass of confused case law within a thicket of overly general and outdated statutes. Seville herself characterizes British law as "slow, fragmented and troublesome" (294). It is therefore surprising to find her enthusiastic about the "extraordinary depth, strength and flexibility" of copyright law and its ability to adapt to the digital age (40). Her rationale that "market behaviour and market forces are sufficiently constant that historical parallels can offer valuable precedents" is sound (319). But, alas, because the rest of the book completely ignores market forces, the poetically titled final chapter, "The Colours of Cyberspace," will likely prove to be the least satisfactory for those who read history to extract lessons that might help to resolve the dilemmas of the twenty-first century.