Raymond Chandler and his contrarian cat Taki

Gstaad That’s all we needed in a great year: copyright has expired on The Great Gatsby. Some Fitzgerald wannabe has already cashed in with a prequel, and I’m certain the worst is yet to come. I suppose that the insatiable hunger for fame and celebrity to impress a shallow and scatterbrained blonde across the water made Gatsby a very tragic hero. But he was not as tragic as Hemingway’s Jake Barnes, who had his you-know-what blown off in the war and could only flirt with Lady Brett from afar. Or Scott Fitzgerald’s other tragic hero, Dick Diver, whose talent wasted away while he amused his rich wife’s friends. At least

Britain’s copyright law is a mess

Copyright often seems like a joke. Most of us infringe it constantly, and publicly, without a second’s thought. With the advent of the internet, the public uploads countless videos, music, photographs, art, and a whole host of other things without the permission of the creators. Even large organisations get away with it. A few years ago, for example, the National Trust posted a picture of an unusual, heart-shaped honeycomb to social media, claiming it had been made by bees at one of their properties. It went viral, but it wasn’t actually theirs. Luckily for them, the beekeeper who took the photograph didn’t press the issue. Even creators, whom the system