Elizabeth Goudge Plaigerized

A little more on Elizabeth Goudge for those who may be interested.
Here is an interesting story I came across and first posted about in 2008.
I'll let the words speak for themselves.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

My overflow shelf; some I've read but others are still waiting for my attention...

Some of these books, such as The Cross, have been waiting for over a year for me to read them. I am still working on a couple of books on theological topics, but came to a point where I needed a break to read something light and entertaining instead.  Don't laugh, but I even read two little Christmas novels last month - it was a pleasant diversion!

One book on the shelf that I have read is Cranes' Morning. The sad tale, or how not to write a novel, revolves around the author, Indrani Aikath Gyaltsen, with one previous novel already to her credit. She died, it is believed by her own hand, at age 41, shortly after it was discovered that she had plagiarized Elizabeth Goudge's The Rosemary Tree to produce Cranes' Morning.

Since Elizabeth Goudge is my favorite author, I wanted to see just how closely the two novels matched. The two books are nearly verbatim, though Ms. Gyaltsen moved the setting to India, with Indian names, and changed a few facts here and there. She also left out many things; her story is somewhat shorter than The Rosemary Tree. She kept the basic story line, but Cranes' Morning is missing the depth of spirit and character that Elizabeth Goudge poured into her novels.

First paragraph of The Rosemary Tree

Harriet at her window watched the gulls with delight. It meant bad weather at sea when they came up-river, and she had known when she awoke this morning in the waiting stillness, and had seen the misted sky, that the only spell of fine weather was going to break into a gale; and she did not enjoy the March winds in this draughty, bone-searching house whose cold and damp had already crippled her. But she enjoyed the gulls, and would enjoy them more when she found the right pair of spectacles. She had been reading her Bible when she first heard that strange, exciting cry, and her reading spectacles were no good for distance. She wasted a few precious moments finding her distant ones on the table beside her, knocking over the teacup on her breakfast tray as she did so, for her hands were knotted with arthritis, slow and fumbling. Daphne might have sharp words to say about the dregs in the teacup staining the traycloth, and for a moment she flinched from the thought of them, but when she got the gulls into focus she forgot Daphne. She had never been able to remember other things when the gulls came.

The first paragraph of Cranes' Morning

Old Vidya sat at her window and watched the cranes with delight. It meant bad weather on this plateau when they came from the east and she had known, when she woke this morning in the waiting stillness, and had seen the misted sky, that the long spell of fine weather was going to break into a rainstorm. She did not enjoy the late February winds in this drafty house whose damp and cold had already crippled her. But she enjoyed the birds and would enjoy them more when she found the right pair of spectacles. She had been reading when she first heard that strange, exciting cry and her reading glasses were no good for distance. She wasted a few precious moments finding her distant ones on the table beside her, knocking over her teacup on the breakfast tray as she did so, for her hands were knotted with arthritis. Gargi might have sharp words to say later about the dregs in the teacup staining the tray-cloth, and for a moment she flinched from the thought of them, but when she got the cranes into focus she forgot about Gargi.

Now I am re-reading The Rosemary Tree to refresh my memory about the story; it has been four years since I last read it.