Progress
what is your metric?
Dear rejuvenated reader!
The calendar has ticked over into 2024 and with it comes the fresh scent of optimism along with a whiff of anxiety. As I mentioned in my last newsletter, these dates are somewhat arbitrary, but they can be useful markers. There are many New Years in our world, depending on your religion or culture, so don’t let any setbacks or failures dismay you.
One of our tendencies as humans is to collapse into ‘all or nothing’ thinking. If we do not hit a certain number of steps or calories or sales every single day, we may throw our hands in the air and brand ourselves as a failure. All the progress we have made is discounted in favour of our stumble. That becomes our excuse to give up entirely and decide we’re not able for the challenge.
Instead, accept your delay, pick an adjusted departure and set forth on your journey aligned to your North Star. Tempests and leaks may slow you down at times, but that’s life. Heave-to and patch, but keep sailing!
As I was writing my Substack last week I was coming down with a beastly cold. I had plans for last week, and they didn’t involve producing more snot than I thought possible and being wracked by coughing fits (thank you, oh miraculous Bronchostop, for reducing that part to tolerable levels). In the past I’ve struggled with ailment’s demand for surrender and rest. I’m much better at it these days, but the modern sensibility to power through and keep up productivity is difficult to shake off.
It comes down to your metric for success. When incapacitated perhaps one email is an amazing achievement. Sometimes we have the resources to push through and surprise ourselves. Other times those outsized expectations will diminish any output.
Life has many distractions, some of which we can avoid, but others are impossible to sidestep. Establishing your priorities can aid in figuring out this complicated work/life choreography.
Even if you are creeping towards your destination, snail-slow, it’s a positive day.
The nautical imagery reminded me of the famous Peter Pan quote from the Disney movie: “There it is, Wendy! Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.” Yesterday was Public Domain Day, which marks the point when new texts/musics/film are removed from copyright restriction. The script of J. M. Barrie’s play, Peter Pan; Or the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up (published for copyright purposes in 1928) is now in the public domain. The novel, Peter Pan — also known as Peter and Wendy — (1911) has been in the public domain since 1967.
Jennifer Jenkins, the Director of the Duke Center for the Study of the Public Domain, published a useful list of what’s available:
‘On January 1, 2024, thousands of copyrighted works from 1928 will enter the US public domain, along with sound recordings from 1923. They will be free for all to copy, share, and build upon. This year’s highlights include Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence and The Threepenny Opera by Bertolt Brecht, Buster Keaton’s The Cameraman and Cole Porter’s Let’s Do It, and a trove of sound recordings from 1923. And, of course, 2024 marks the long-awaited arrival of Steamboat Willie – featuring Mickey and Minnie Mouse – into the public domain.’
Most people are aware that Disney is a famously litigious company, and have protected the copyright of their works fiercely. Yet, despite putting off the inevitable for as long as they could, they can’t protect against time. The first animated movie in which ‘the mouse’ appeared was Steamboat Willie (1928). If you think this gives you licence to so as you wish with Mickey and Minnie Mouse, I suggest you read Jenkin’s article, ‘Mickey, Disney, and the Public Domain: a 95-year Love Triangle’.
Along with designer Sean Dudley, she’s created a handy graphic to illustrate what’s permissible.
So, Steamboat Willy and all the characters in the film are fair game, but not the current version of the mouse.
In the EU, copyright on any original literary, scientific and artistic work remains your intellectual property until 70 years after your death or 70 years after the death of the last surviving creator if it’s the result of joint authorship.1
There’s a fascinating Irish connection to modern copyright law. Like many old stories, the truth is scribbled in fading ink in the murky margins of history, but the gist of one version goes like this:
In the 6th century books were rare and valuable, and required labour and expertise to create and copy them. Ireland had quite the industry at the time for producing gorgeous illuminated manuscripts of Christian texts. Enter Finnian of Clonard (470–549), a famous monk, who lived in Europe for several decades, before returning to his home country of Ireland to cement Christianity among his feckless kin. He was renowned for his asceticism and discipline by the time he established the monastery at Clonard in Co. Meath, in the rolling green fields of the Boyne valley — I’m sure it’s no coincidence that this was also an important sacred location in pagan Ireland.
Finnian’s strict discipline and prowess as a scriptural teacher brought devotees from all over Europe to the verdant spot, and Clonard grew into a large and busy Abbey. Clonard trained what became known as the ‘Twelve Apostles’ of Ireland. Among their number was Columba/Colmcille (521 – 597), an Irish abbot and missionary, who like Finnian, would gain sainthood after his death.
Columba took a shine to a famous Latin psalter (book of psalms) in Clonard’s scriptorium, and made a copy of it without permission, with the intention of keeping it for himself. This copy became known as Cathach (‘the battler’), and was a source of dispute once his master discovered Columba’s handiwork.
Finnian claimed he owned the copy, but Columba refused to hand it over. Incensed by his subordinate’s cheekiness, Finnian petitioned the High King of Ireland, King Diarmait, to make a judgement on the matter. Diarmait ruled against Columba, and declared, ‘To every cow its calf and to every book its copy.’ Hence we have one of the first recorded copyright decisions in history.
It also demonstrates that copyright issues have always stirred up violent emotions.
One version of the following events is that Columba, resentful of this treatment, complained to his relatives in the Uí Néill clan, and they subsequently rebelled against the King. It resulted in the Battle of Cúl Dreimhne (also known as The Battle of the Book) in 561, which supposedly caused the death of up to 3,000 people.
This cannot be considered proper Christian behaviour, and a synod of his colleagues threatened to excommunicate Columba for his part in the war. Although he avoided that fate, Columba realised his time in Ireland was over, and sailed for Iona to establish a community among the Scottish. It is said that he was urged to save as many new souls as were slaughtered in the conflict.
Whatever his reasons for making the copy, historians are grateful that Columba did so, as the Cathach is the second oldest Latin psalter existing in the world today. In the late 11th century it was sealed inside an ornamented metal reliquary, a book shrine known as a cumdach. It functioned as a talisman for the chiefs of the Clan Ó Domhnaill in present-day Tyrconnell. For several centuries ‘The Battler’ would be hung around the neck of a holy man who would chant while circling Ó Domhnaill soldiers before a skirmish, thus protecting them from harm.
The manuscript now resides in the Royal Irish Academy in Dublin. I wonder if its protection aura remains in effect…
And now my battery light is blinking, and I must return to recharge mode.
Wishing you all good health and compassionate goals for your circumstances!
If I'm happy to get put of bed in the morning, and not dreading any of the work that I need to do that day, thats success for me. I recognise my privilege, and there were plenty of times in the past where this wasn't the case.
Good. Good is a very useful metric, perfect is the enemy of good, and I continually come short of perfect, but good seems to be good enough. The painful parts are not dissimilar though, awkward errors along the way, the piece between good and perfect being a disappointment or missing an expectation, but delivering on good is better than stagnating and failing at perfect. It's tricky in the internet age of shiney brilliance, but good is good enough. Very good, that's superb.