Like Mike Madison, I noticed Jonathan Galassi’s op-ed in the New York Times on Sunday. Galassi—the president of Farrar, Strauss & Giroux—argues that ebook publishers who republish print books are committing at least a moral wrong by appropriating the work of the print publisher, even if they have the permission of the copyright owner. Mike views this argument, I take it, as one more sign of the “IP apocalypse,” but I have a somewhat different take: I see in Galassi’s op-ed a fascinating old copyright chestnut that has basically (and correctly) gone against Galassi.

The argument goes like this: the naive view of authorship is that authors sit down at their typewriters and churn out complete copyrighted works. But not only is this view incomplete on the input end—as just about everyone recognizes, artists slurp inspiration from all over the place—it’s also incomplete on the output end. Once an author (or a director, or songwriter) finishes a work, all sorts of things happen to it before it reaches the public as a final product, sometimes altering the content of that work substantially. Artists often chafe under the rule of editors, always forcing them to trim out the good stuff, but you can often tell which authors have gotten powerful enough to throw off their editors’ yoke, and not usually in a good way. “Doorstopper” is the term that comes to mind.

Galassi’s argument focuses on the creative nature of all that post-author authorship. And there’s a hidden suggestion in his op-ed—shouldn’t the publisher have some sort of proprietary rights over all the stuff it adds? The ebook publishers can distribute William Styron’s unedited manuscripts if they like, but not the version Random House put out.