Harry Potter and the Chamber of Copyright Law

Presiding over a packed courtroom this morning, it was as if Judge Robert Patterson had never been asked to cross reference entries for "Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor" before.

Such is the nature of the evidence in a copyright case involving the Harry Potter books. But the whimsy of the situation seemed lost on the gruff judge, who has served on the federal bench in lower Manhattan since 1988, as he fumbled through some of the hundreds of exhibits in search of definitions for ogre, Voldemort, Remus Lupin, Occamy, and the especially confusing Dagbert Pips. (Listed under "P," it turns out.)

Today was the start of the trial of Warner Brothers' and J.K. Rowling's copyright infringement lawsuit against RDR Books, which seeks to enjoin publication of a book version of a popular Harry Potter Lexicon Website offering an A-Z guide to the content of the wildly popular children's books.

The issue has become something of a personal crusade for Rowling, who traveled from Scotland to testify in person and said the lawsuit has decimated her creative work over the past months.

Rowling was the first witness to take the stand on Monday morning, responding to questions from Dale Cendali, the O'Melveny & Myers partner arguing the case for Warners and Rowling.

Rowling was impeccably coiffed and wearing a simple gray pinstripe suit, but Cendali was quick to paint a more humble picture of the author's beginnings with questions about her background.

"There were weeks when the food ran out," Rowling explained of her early years as a single mother on welfare writing the Potter novels, and described having to "literally choose typewriter ribbon over food."

Rowling nearly broke down into tears on the stand when asked to explain what her books and characters mean to her.

"I really don't want to cry, because I'm British," she said, dabbing tears from the corners of her eyes. "But I believe this book constitutes wholesale theft of 17 years of my work."

Rowling's testimony made clear that her long-standing plans to write her own lexicon (all proceeds of which would be donated to charity) were only partially responsible for her opposition to RDR's work, written by Steve Van der Ark.

"What particularly galls is the lack of quotation marks," said Rowling, who appeared as variously vexed, frustrated, hurt, and bewildered by Van der Ark's liberal paraphrasing of her original language in the lexicon.

RDR contends that the Harry Potter Lexicon is protected under the "fair use" provision of copyright law, which typically allows for derivative works of copyrighted material -- such as criticism, news reporting, scholarship, research, and comment -- to be freely published

In the past, Rowling has given wide latitude to related works like fan fiction, Websites, and even other companion books such as the Complete Idiots Guide to the World of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Companion: A Guide to the Magical World of Harry Potter --- which would also compete with Rowling's forthcoming lexicon.

Warners and Rowling argue that while other companion books beef up Rowling's original work with extensive analysis, mythological context, and etymology, Van der Ark's lexicon for the most part only paraphrases from Rowling's works, getting a free lunch off of her hard work and creativity.

"I believe that it's sloppy, lazy, and what does it add?," Rowling said of the lexicon on the stand, adding that "a child with a Latin pocket dictionary could define what Van der Ark defines."

"I absolutely see no use to it," Rowling continued. "I literally do not understand what he thinks he's done of value."

The question of the Harry Potter lexicon raises a larger issue for companion works in the future, and one which J.K. Rowling vehemently opposes: Whether a publication that simply organizes information, but doesn't add or change it, is protected under "fair use."

According to RDR, the lexicon has intrinsic value in organizing and reordering information, regardless of whether analysis is added -- a precedent that could have far-reaching implications for authors of fiction seeking to retain control over the fruits of their creativity.

Liz Gunnison