A NYT tipster has found more lifted passages in Opal Mehta from yet another chick lit tome, Can You Keep a Secret? by Sophie Kinsella (author of Shopaholic), circa 2004.
At least three portions in the book, How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild, and Got a Life, by Kaavya Viswanathan, bear striking similarities to writing in Can You Keep a Secret? … the phrasing and structure of some passages is nearly identical. [Link]
The structural similarities between both versions of this passage seem damning. (It is one contiguous passage):
| Can You Keep a Secret? | Opal Mehta |
|
“And we’ll tell everyone you got your Donna Karan coat from a discount warehouse shop.” Jemima gasps. “I didn’t!” she says, color suffusing her cheeks. “You did! I saw the carrier bag,” I chime in. “And we’ll make it public that your pearls are cultured, not real…” Jemima claps a hand over her mouth… “OK!” says Jemima, practically in tears. “OK! I promise I’ll forget all about it. I promise! Just please don’t mention the discount warehouse shop. Please.” |
“And I’ll tell everyone in that in eighth grade you used to wear a ‘My Little Pony’ sweatshirt to school every day,” I continued. Priscilla gasped. “I didn’t!” she said, her face purpling again. “You did! I even have pictures,” I said. “And I’ll make it public that you named your dog Pythagoras…” Priscilla opened her mouth and gave a few soundless gulps… “Okay, fine!” she said in complete consternation. “Fine! I promise I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll talk to the club manager. Just please don’t mention the sweatshirt. Please.” |
What boggles the mind is that there are people reading chick lit so closely as to be able to detect this. True, uh, dedication 
You know a story is overexposed when Paris Hilton’s relatives try to piggyback on the publicity 
But Viswanathan’s agent will have you know that when the Crown took down the Little, Brown, her client was the real victim. It’s her twinkie defense:
Viswanathan said she had read McCafferty but called herself the victim of a photographic memory. “Somewhere in her mind, she crossed an invisible line with this material and didn’t realize that the words so easy and available to her were not her own,” says her agent, Jennifer Rudolph Walsh… Walsh says, “I guarantee you she’ll graduate first in her class.” [Link]
Ruth Marcus at the WaPo criticizes Viswanathan for unoriginality by using the phrase ‘curry-scented.’ The irony escapes her:
The curry-scented slapstick that follows is more product placement (Moschino miniskirt, Jimmy Choo stilettos, Habitual jeans) than literature… [Link]
The Economic Times shows some sensitivity:
It might be pertinent to remember that some years ago, a young author was being promoted by many senior writers as the next big thing in the publishing industry. And then, exactly the same thing happened with her. That story ended with the lady committing suicide. [Link]
Class, true class. The plagiary and subsequent suicide of Indrani Aikath-Gyaltsen gave rise to an interesting twist of phrase (thanks, Thalassa):‘If something comes from exotic parts, it’s read very differently’
… “there’s a phrase `aesthetic affirmative action.’ If something comes from exotic parts, it’s read very differently than if it’s domestically grown…” Friends said she turned down one dashing military officer because he spoke English with a Punjabi accent, the Indian equivalent of a blue-collar nasal rasp. [Link]
Other Indian papers struggled with the chick niche, spelling it ‘chiclet,’ ‘chicklet’ or ‘chic-lit’ at random. Viswanathan was not amused:
“You better come correct with syntax [expletive deleted] or I’ll pop a dangling participle in your punk ass, you hear?” [Link
Meanwhile, one Boston brahmin worried the hungama might stain his silver spoon:
That may be fine for the world at large, but we at Harvard, quite frankly, are supposed to be something different. Every student here knows what it feels like to drop the H-bomb and is familiar with that tinge of pride at the recognition and respect which our institution’s name inspires… Harvard’s most recent and feted cultural contribution is chick lit written by an aspiring investment banker. We have fallen a long way from T.S. Eliot, and we should be ashamed. [Link]
This is the way the marketing machine ends, not with a bang but a whimper. But in all things a silver lining. Since many Indians don’t believe in intellectual property, Viswanathan could have a tremendous career writing for Bollywood. Why, just the other night I saw a fantastic new Bollywood trailer about a hit man who hires a cabbie to drive him around town for a night. It’s called The Killer. I suggest investing and putting up some collateral.
Viswanathan has already done what Bollyscribes do all day — lift, separate and brownify (PDF - thanks, Zai):
| Sloppy Firsts | Opal Mehta desifies it for you |
| These conversations [with Marcus] are like a shot of Schnapps with a Tabasco sauce chaser. Short, sweet, and strange… | Talking to Sean had been like eating sev mixture, the Indian equivalent to Chex Party Mix, sharp and sweet and spicy all at once… |
| [Marcus] smelled sweet and woodsy, like cedar shavings. | … [Seans’s] cologne (sweet and woodsy and spicy, like the sandalwood key chains sold as souvenirs in India.) |
| …I’ve become the subject of countless finger-pointing rumors. I heard he’s has taught her everything he knows, so she can do every position in the Kama Sutra at college. | …I was the subject of every senior’s finger-pointing, whispered rumors… “I heard the first item on your resume was being able to hit every pose in the Kama Sutra.” |
Lift kara de
Here are some of the similar passages (PDF) which most news stories haven’t yet quoted:
| Sloppy Firsts | Opal Mehta |
| … in a truly sadomasochistic dieting gesture, they chose to buy their Diet Cokes at Cinnabon. | In a truly masochistic gesture, they had decided to buy Diet Cokes from Mrs. Fields… |
| “‘Omigod!’ shrieked Sara, taking a pink tube top emblazoned with a glittery Playboy bunny out of her shopping bag.” |
“…buy me a pink tube top emblazoned with a glittery Playboy bunny.” |
|
But then he tapped me on the shoulder, and said something so random that I was afraid he was back on the junk. “Did you know that the average American spends six months of his or her life waiting for red lights to turn green?” “What?” |
… he tapped me on the shoulder and said something so random I worried that he needed more expert counseling than I could provide.
“Did you know that the words amnesty and amnesia come from the same root?” “What?” |
| “Omigod! Let’s make sure junior year rocks,” she says. “Let’s make more time for each other. Friends are forever!”
… So I say even less at lunch than usual, totally aware of how alone I am. |
“Omigod!… We have to make more time for each other. Friends are forever!” I said even less than usual, aware of how totally alone I am. |
| Scotty has gotten into the habit of substituting curses with initials. | Every curse was either replaced by its initials or had a consonant cleverly inserted… |
| Upper Crust [as most popular group in school] | Upper-Cruster [as most popular group in school] |
| Dreg [as druggies] | Dreg [as druggies] |
Related posts: Innocent, Until Proven Otherwise, How Kaavya Viswanathan got rich, got caught, and got ruined, Buzzword bingo
