True Mythology
Is plagiarism defensible? This is not an academic question. Authors can lose reputation for violating the rule. Worse, damages can be awarded if proved. You know that hurts. Having a low threshold of pain and suffering, both mine and other's, I accept the challenge.
Let us invoke what is known to philosophers as aletheia. Aletheia is, briefly, un-forgetting. The plagiarizer must own failure to attribute borrowed material, must confess to the misdemeanor of plagiarism. Acquittal is not to be expected. Mercy, and a mild sentence, may be the best outcome.
The embarrassment upon the finding of plagiarism is just desserts for what is called, colloquially, comeuppance. Although a matter of shame, I say it is nothing to be ashamed of. Plagiarism is trying too hard. Plagiarism, if anything, deserves a letter grade E (for effort.) If you must steal (so the saying goes), steal from the best.
Plagiarism is a compliment. We are a society of equals. The offender must be rehabilitated, convinced she is one of us, that we care, and that we're not letting go of you. We hold the plagiarizer to the rules, as we are all bound by rules, and will be held accountable.
As for motive, my own theory is the plagiarizer fears being caught reading after bedtime, after the order of "lights out." That comment is not meant to make light of a serious matter. It is intended to expose the state-of-mind—mens rea—of the plagiarizer. The plagiarizer fears admitting to reading more than is seemly, of being in possession of forbidden knowledge.
In ordinary conversation I do not mention that I read Aristotle. Most people don't, and I don't want to make what I read an issue. What's important (to me) is what Aristotle said -not who said it. The idea, or its brilliant articulation, is what matters. Not, (if I may say) whose idea it is. Out of consideration for my hearer (should she disagree), I don't embarrass her (or myself) by retorting, "But, Aristotle said so!"
My introduction to Aristotle was his Poetics. Whether familiar with the Poetics (or not), the title is telling, and not a surprising choice by any artist, or, for that matter, anyone interested in aesthetics. I liked Aristotle's Poetics so well, I read his other books. In his provocatively titled Politics, otherwise titled the "Treatise on Government,” I came across an arcane reference to the peoples of the Italian peninsula. In Book IV, Chapter X, of The Politics, the philosopher writes:
Common meals seem also to have been an ancient regulation, and to have been established in Crete during the reign of Minos, and in a still more remote period in Italy; for those who are the best judges in that country say that one Italus being king of Aenotria, from whom the people, changing their names, were called Italians...
...and a few lines further,
This Italus, they relate, made the Aenotrians, who were formerly shepherds, husbandmen, and gave them different laws from what they had before, and to have been the first who established common meals, for which reason some of his descendants still use them, and observe some of his laws. (end quote)
The Italians have always loved restaurant life! What's surprising is not that it's a surprise. In fact, everybody knows that (now, including Aristotle.) What relevance this has to my subject goes to my concern with public life—absolutely public life—to the culture of public life, to life not un-remembered, open, above-the-table, honest, on display, for all the world to see, public life.
Incidentally, restaurants appear to be the invention of Italus of Italy (namesake of the Italians), known since the time of Aristotle. They have been known as the Italians since Italus. Aristotle was not the only one who noticed this distinctive feature of the Italians. Nothing, it seems, passed Aristotle's notice. And yet, Aristotle diligently reports what is known, but not, however, objectively; as a fact which he knows to be true.
Enthusiastic as I am about my subject, I will admit I have my doubts about the real Italus. Sure, it makes a great story. However, after one has read a certain quantity of classical literature, it can all seem far-fetched, at times. I must, therefore reserve judgment; I simply cannot conclude that Italus is other than a semi-mythological figure. That is, yet, important, as it begins to render mythology—the religion of pagans—as meaningful.