^ That's essentially the dilemma Zorro is in now. The original Zorro story,
The Curse of Capistrano, and the first Zorro movie,
The Mark of Zorro, were published in 1919 and 1920, respectively, and they're both in the public domain for reprinting/reselling at will. Zorro Productions International, however, holds a trademark on the character, and goes after anyone who tries to make use of the character without paying them off, even if they limit their new take/use of the character to elements taken from those public domain works. As I understand it, the whole thing is a bit of a gray area, because the law itself is a bit fuzzy, and it's generally cheaper and safer to pay ZP Inc. its stated fee than to defend against a lawsuit that might result in
all profits being taken.
Of course, the flip side to that is ZP Inc. may not sign off on what you'd like to do with the character even if you willingly offer them dough. Hence the art and speech-chilling effects of unlimited copyright/trademark combos.
There's a weird double standard here. Nobody complains if, say, a baker or plumber leaves the family business to their kids, but if a writer works their whole life to build something for their family, that's supposed to evaporate the minute they die?
You wanna talk about "nobody", Nobody, except the odd
Takeru, actually takes that absolutist anti-copyright stance. The vast majority of us agree that copyright protection for a
certain, non-trivial period of time is a good thing.
That said, a copyright is much more analogous to land property than a bakery or plumber's business, as the latter requires constant upkeep and renewal, whereas the former mostly just sits there, benefiting its owners. And the state does tax land ownership, both through property taxes and (sometimes) estate taxes when there's a generational transfer of assets. If the heirs to the land don't ever work themselves, at a certain point they won't be able to afford the taxes, and will lose the land. Similarly, after a certain number of decades, art should go into the public domain, and
the grandkids or great-grandkids of artists should find ways to support themselves. I certainly don't think any contemporary descendants of Jane Austen, say, should get royalties on sales of her works today.