A Defense of Fanfiction

"How juvenile!" the English teachers cry

With upturned noses and with faces wry-

"Of all the follies of the young, the worst

Must be this vice, in which our age is cursed!

To borrow plumage from another's crown

And generally to only tear it down

With nonsense, purple prose and stupid views

And (horror of our clan!) the Mary-Sues!

But 'tis not only in the young the sin

Abounds- the elders too will take it in

And secretly will scrawl the dull romance

Of Potter's angst or Sparrow's timely chance. (1)

Where went the age when genius flourished thus?

When cleverness alone received the fuss?

When only brilliant authors joined the fray,

And Poetry, not Buffy won the day?"

So say the wits, but how can I agree-

Condemn myself and all to misery

For using characters that are not mine

Is pleasanter than they can e'er divine!

If one can find a fandom that is right,

It can afford all manner of delight,

And so with haste I must my post defend

And know that failure else may be my end.

To Ye, my grim detractors I shall speak

And prove that I as well can be a geek

And that a learned lady still can love

The trivialities you disapprove. (2)

'Tis true that there's a lot of garbage writ,

But ardent fans aren't oft' the cause of it,

For there are plenty authors that are paid

And still write crap without another's aid!

The silly sagas gracing Wal-Mart's aisles

The "Harlequins" that woman's time beguiles,

The magazines where movie-stars are shown

Th'absurdity of all are quite their own.

And yet they still protest- "though this is fact,

The fan-fic writers have no better act

Show us a fan-ish author else with wit,

Or we shall not believe a word of it."

Thy wish is granted- I can name a set

Of authors who are still respected yet

By even thee, my intellectual jade,

Whose work (though older)'s of a fan-boy shade.

Behold great Thackeray, whom you should know

Wrote quite a tale respecting Ivanhoe,

Or Fielding, whose parody sublime

Of Pamela has stood the test of time.

Of course, there's an American- Brett Harte

Whose version of Jane Eyre must warm the heart

(At least with mirth)- Then Prior's verses, sure,

Upon the wife of Lemuel Gulliver,

And what to make, upon that sort of head

Of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead?

Why, can it be the Literary Great

Will bear to stoop to such a trivial fate?

And though you weep, the writer downward bends

And put another's work to their own ends,

Pray, can it be a lesser, venial sin

For we, the minor authors to give in?

If to the vice we yield with urging fine,

'Twas for our predecessors' paradigm!

So grant us mercy if you p'raps can stand it,

It was our forebears' flame, we all just fanned it.

(1) Referring to Harry Potter and Captain Jack Sparrow, respectively.

(2) A common rhyme, even though the two words don't really sound much alike in most accents.

( 3) The authors referenced here are William Makepeace Thackeray, Henry Fielding, Brett Harte, Matthew Prior and Tom Stoppard.