The play is not supposed to depart from “the spirit of the novel” nor “alter its characters.” What does that mean for the playwright’s ability to interpret and change source material?

The language of the contract that is at issue — “the play shall not derogate or depart in any manner from the spirit of the novel nor alter its characters” (emphasis added) — could be interpreted in a limiting manner in the Lee estate’s favor, but the underlying concepts “spirit of the novel” and what it means to “alter” a character are themselves ambiguous. Interpreting this provision strictly arguably could bar the addition of a new major character, which the letter seems to allege has taken place, but it also could be interpreted more broadly to allow for changes that are consistent with the spirit of the novel and meaning that existing characters’ natures cannot be changed. It is quite possible that the parties had different understandings and it is no wonder that a dispute has turned to litigation.

— Cheryl Davis, general counsel of the Authors Guild

Does “spirit” have a definite and precise meaning, or could there be a difference of opinion as to what is “the spirit” of the novel? I do not think that a dictionary definition of “spirit” will resolve that question. Similarly, the contract states that the characters should not be altered. In its pre-action letter, Harper Lee’s estate repeatedly states that the characters “would never have” and “would not have” done numerous things; unless as a matter of historical fact the characters would not have done something (because it had not yet occurred at the time when the novel takes place or when it was written), who is to say what a creature of fiction “would never have” or “would not have” done? The person who created those characters, Harper Lee, is dead.

— Jordan Greenberger, intellectual property lawyer

My own sense, having read the complaint, is that it includes a mix of valid concerns about anachronism and character arcs with highly contestable interpretations, ones we have no real way to know whether Lee would have shared. One might disagree, for example, about exactly how black men and women who “knew their place” (as the letter describes both Calpurnia and Tom) would behave and speak in light of that knowledge, especially where the audience is not having its experience filtered through the perceptions of a young white girl. [“To Kill a Mockingbird” is narrated by Atticus’s daughter, Scout.]

— Rebecca Tushnet, professor of First Amendment law, Harvard Law School