Showing posts from category: Literary & Linguistics
Moby-Dick and the Peculiar Pecuniary System of 19th Century Whaling
ONE of the many memorable paragraphs of Herman Melville’s classic allegorical work of American fiction, Moby-Dick, is when the narrator/character Ismael speculates on what remuneration he might receive for signing on to the voyage of the whaler Pequod:
❝ I was already aware that in the whaling business they pay no wages; but all hands, including the captain, receive certain shares of the profits called lays, and that these lays were proportioned to the degree of importance pertaining to the respective duties of the ship’s company… I made no doubt that from all I had heard I should be offered at least the 275th lay—that is, the 275th part of the clear net proceeds of the voyage…what they call a rather long lay, yet it was better than nothing ❞.
As Elmo P Hofman elaborated in a 1926 essay, “the whaleman was not paid by day, week or month, nor was he allowed a certain sum of every barrel of oil or for every pound of bone captured” …his earnings came from a “specified fractional share” (a lay) of the net profits of the trip (cited in ‘How Profit Sharing Sent Captain Ahab in Search of Moby Dick, Joseph Thorndike, Forbes, 15-Dec-2015, www.forbes.com). Rather than being wage-earners the entire crew including the skipper were sort of joint shareholders in the commercial venture.
The 1956 film (with Gregory Peck as Ahab)
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The experiences of real-life whaling boats of the era of Melville’s novel offers insights into the synchronic system of divvying up the profits – if we look at the profits of the 1843 whaling voyage of the Abigail of New Bedford⚀, it reveals a 70/30 split of the dividends, 70% to the owners and partners and 30% sub-divided between the captain and crew (Lance E. Davis, Robert E. Gallman, Karen Gleiter, In Pursuit of Leviathan (1997)). This was pretty typical for the period of what has been described as “an oddly denominated profit-sharing scheme” (‘The Whaleman’s Lay’, Ahab Beckons, 04-Feb-2018, www.ahab-beckons.blogspot.com). A captain might score a lay of ⅛th whereas a ‘green’ hand might only net a ¹⁄₃₅₀th lay or worse, so the novice sea-hand Ismael was perhaps over-optimistic about his likely share (in the novel Ismael is offered an exceptionally long lay which after haggling hard he manages to have reduced to a more acceptable lay of ¹⁄₃₀₀th). So, like the unknowables or “known unknowns” of the stock exchange, a crew member of a whaling vessel engaging in this pelagic industrial arena, even if he knows what lay he had scored, still won’t have any idea of how much he’ll earn for his months and months of hard ship work. Everything hinged on the voyage’s profitability.
Then on top of all this there were deductions from a crew member’s lay when he did finally get the money… anything an ordinary whaleman purchased from the ship’s store during the voyage—tobacco, boots, clothes, etc—was subtracted from his lay. The same if he was given an advance to send to his family. A crew member, especially one with a very long lay, could easily end up in debt to the ship’s owners at voyage’s end (‘Life Aboard’, New Bedford Whaling Museum, www.whalingmuseum.org).
New Bedford Whaling Museum
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⚀ 50 miles south of Boston, from the early 1820s on it supplanted Nantucket as America’s foremost whaling port
Architect of the Trojan Horse – Odysseus contra Epeius
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Leaving aside the small percentage of the population who are by nature petracolous𖤓, who in the West hasn’t heard something described as a “Trojan Horse” at some time or other, even if they may not grasp that its a reference to the fabled Trojan Horse of Greek mythology? Its usage in the modern world—signifying a trick or stratagem that causes a target to invite a foe into a securely protected bastion or place—makes it one of the great, storied metaphors of human interaction and existence. In the age of IT the term has also crossed over into computing jargon to describe any malicious computer program that fools users into willingly running it (often called simply a “Trojan”). But let’s get back to the origin story, the literary-mythical “Trojan Horse” (Troia hippos or douráteos hippos) of antiquity upon which its metaphorical longevity of currency rests.
The ancient sources of the classical world—principally Virgil’s Aeneid, Quintus of Smyrna’s The Fall of Troy and Homer’s Odyssey (but not the Iliad!)—gave us the legendary Trojan Horse story, an audacious ruse by the Achaeans§ to penetrate the impenetrable walls of Troy with the crafty “gift” of a deceptive and catastrophe-bringing equine decoy. The master-scheme, masterminded by Odysseus, the king of Ithaca, succeeded spectacularly, bringing the ten long years of a Hellenic-Trojan war, hitherto thought to be utterly inconclusive, to a swift and definitive conclusion.
Unsurprisingly in a story about great heroic warriors, all of the kudos for the triumph of the wooden horse gets lavished on Odysseus’ head, with the wily king of Ithaca being described by tradition as “the architect of the Trojan Horse”. The problem with this exalted tag being ascribed solely to Odysseus is that it completely glosses over the vital role of Epeius of Phocis who can stake a comparable (and literal) claim to the title in the Trojan Horse episode. The germ of the idea was the genius master-stroke of Odysseus, yes, but he still needed a highly skilled artisan–builder to bring the oversized horse decoy into being. Epeius, a soldier and pugilist in the Achaean ranks had been a master carpenter in his civilian life before the war, and the task was down to him, not Odysseus, to make the Wooden Horse a reality. Epeius designed and built the gigantic super-sized model of a horse with a hollow belly large enough to hold 30 warriors and their armour and weapons, making his creation a plausible structure, well-constructed and finely detailed…and he did all this in just three days – apparently with some help or inspiration from the goddess Athena. Without Epeius’ Herculean labour of monolithic scale carpentry, Odysseus would not have the Trojan Horse which is synonymous in Greek mythology with his name, the very instrument which proved a total game-breaker ending the stalemate in the decade-long war between Agamemnon’s Achaeans and Priam’s Trojans.
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𖤓 ie, living under a rock
§ the name Homer (or “Homer”) used in referring to the ancient Greeks
What happened to ‘Peking’ and ‘Bombay’?: The Politics and Standardisation of Geographical Renaming
Some time towards the tail-end of last century China and India changed the standard exonym by which its respective principal city is known to outsiders. Thus, Peking became Beijing and Bombay became Mumbai. Other cities within each country followed suit. At the time this caused some pointed comments and a degree of puzzlement among onlookers and even governments around the world. After being called “Peking” and “Bombay” for what seemed like forever (it wasn’t!), why did the Chinese and Indian governments all of a sudden make such a fundamental switch in nomenclature?
The reasons why governments up and change the names of their cities and even occasionally the name by which the sovereign state itself is known※※, varies. Quite frequently, it’s about politics or ethnic/cultural identity. Often, it’s a matter of transliteration of writing systems to keep up with the state of contemporary realities – which dovetails neatly into the need for recognition of ethnic identities within the country. In some instances the change of name may be about both the political and the phonetic. Let’s look at a few specific cases from different countries.
Politics of decolonisation: Let’s start with India and Mumbai. “Bombay” was the first to be (officially) cancelled. In 1995 the Shiv Sena—a right-wing Hindu nationalist party—took power in the Maharashtra region (includes Bombay/Mumbai). Shiv Sena changed the city name because it wanted to rid it of a name with the connotation of the British colonial legacy (“Bombay” apparently being a tainted “Raj” name to Hindu nationalists)1⃞. In its place, the regional authority seeking a name which reflected Maratha heritage and identity chose “Mumbai” to honour the Koli goddess Mumbadevi2⃞.
Standardisation of spelling: From 1996 other Indian cities similarly underwent a name change, the most significant of which are Kolkata, replacing the former name “Calcutta”, Chennai, replacing “Madras”, Kozhikode, replacing “Calicut”, and Bengaluru, formally called “Bangalore”. While post-British decolonisation was at the heart of the desire to change names, many of the new names were the result of spelling changes to align with the prevailing local languages/ethnic communities (eg, Kolkata is a Bengali word for a city nearly two-thirds populated by Bengalis)3⃞.
Transliteration: China has quite a track record of changing the name of its cities, during the imperial era it was a regular occurrence. The question most are curious about is how “Peking” got traded in for “Beijing” (which translates as “northern capital”). Well for a start, Beijing is not a new name for the city. Back in 1403, during the Ming Dynasty, it was thus named…hence the wheel has gone full circle. In-between Beijing 1.0 and Beijing 2.0 the city was known variously as Beiping, Peiping and Peking (prior to Beijing 1.0 it was called Dadu when ruled by the Mongols). Which brings us back to the question of why Peking became Beijing. Basically, it was the (delayed) outcome of a change in the Chinese writing system/script, requiring the conversion of text to tally with the new Pinyin romanisation system introduced by the communist authorities. As part of the process the phonetic changes necessitated new spellings of many city names. And as the new system involved replacing Cantonese with Mandarin, this led to “Canton”, the old English name for the great southern Chinese city, being transliterated as “Guangzhou”4⃞. For the same reason “Pusan” in South Korea became “Busan” in 2000.
More politically motivated name swaps: The communist era of the USSR occasioned name changes of some cities to honour Bolshevik supreme leaders – “Tsaritsyn”, the Tsarist era name became “Stalingrad” (after Joseph Stalin), only to change again to “Volgograd”); “St Petersburg” became “Petrograd” before the Bolsheviks renamed it “Leningrad” (after VI Lenin), only for it to revert to St Petersburg after the dissolution of Soviet communism. Turkey’s preeminent city and capital, Istanbul, too has a history of different names, the changes occasioned by the succeeding waves of rulers who in turn conquered the city. Founded as “Byzantium” by the ancient Greeks, later it was renamed “Constantinople” when absorbed into the (eastern) Roman Empire (unofficially also known as “New Rome”), and finally, under the Ottoman conquerors it became and remains “Istanbul”5⃞.
Endnote: The capital of the Central Asian republic of Kazakhstan is arguably the world record-holder for most changes of its name. While it was part of Russia it was originally called Akmoly, this changed to Akmelinsk and then Tselingrad. Since independence the capital has regularly changed autonyms (and at least one change of location and therefore its name as well) – going from Akmola (= “white tomb”, perhaps not the most uplifting name for a city!), to Astana (which simply means “capital”) to Nursultan (named after Kazakhstan’s autocratic first president) back to Astana.
※※ Re country name changes see this site’s August 2024 blog Bharat, Türkiye, etc. What’s in a Name?: The Politics of Country Rebranding
𖣴𖣴𖣴 𖣴 𖣴𖣴𖣴
1⃞ “Bombay” (meaning “good bay”) was the name the English adopted during the British Raj which derived from Bombaim, the name the Portuguese chose for the city during their occupation
2⃞ the new name, Mumbai, didn’t trigger a change in the name of the city’s famous film-making complex which remains “Bollywood”
3⃞ Goa, a Portuguese colony for 450 years interestingly has not changed its name…possibly something to do with “Goa” deriving from a South Asian Sanskrit word Gomantak (= “cow’s horn”)
4⃞ Shànghâi already conformed to the Pinyin system and so didn’t require a change of name
5⃞ if we turn our eyes to Europe other politically-motivated changes in the city name include “Danzig” (when a German city), changed to “Gdańsk” (when it came under Polish jurisdiction), and “Königsberg” (historic Prussian name) ➜ “Kaliningrad” (after the USSR took control of it from Germany). The spoils of war also accounts for the change in name of the Vietnamese city “Saigon” to “Ho Chi Minh City” after the North Vietnamese were victorious in the civil war
Physician Heal Thyself … Literally! The Fusion of Surgeon and Patient Together in a Polar Wasteland
Twelve men from the Soviet Union on a scientific expedition to the remotest part of planet Earth, Antarctica, in 1961, found themselves on the horn of an incredible dilemma. One of their number, none other than the expedition doctor, suddenly became acutely stricken with appendicitis. What to do? No one else was medically trained and outside medically help was thousands of kilometres away, the patient couldn’t be transported there and waiting would prove fatal. So the surgeon, Leonid Rogozov, did the only thing he could do to try to save his own life…as mind-numbingly inconceivable as it sounds he operated on himself!
Auto-appendectomy was virtually unheard of, let alone performing such an impossibly dangerous procedure in a non-hospital environment, but Dr Rogozov rolled the dice. Firstly, he planned the operation systematically and meticulously (despite being in agonising pain), choosing two members of the expedition to be his surgical assistants, their roles were to hand him surgical instruments and hold a mirror to avail him of a view of his abdomen. The degree to which he prepared the operation exceptionally well can be seen in that he had the foresight to assign a third man to be present in the makeshift operating “theatre” in the event that one of the assistants fainted. As Rogozov needed to stay conscious he submitted only to a local anaesthetic and proceeded slowly in excruciating pain. Finding the inverted view of the mirror more a hinderance than an aid he dispensed with it and operated instead by touch with his bare hands.
Somehow after nearly two hours the doctor succeeded in removing the offending appendix (while noting that its gangrenous appearance indicated it in all likelihood would burst the following day). Operation successfully completed, Rogozov stitched up his gaping wound and even had the presence of mind to instruct the assistants on how to wash the instruments properly and hygienically clean the room, before finally allowing himself a dose of antibiotics and sleeping tablets to induce sleep. After just two weeks rest the extraordinary doctor was, true to form, back at work. Truly remarkable, real Ripley’s “believe it or not” sort of stuff! [Sara Lentati, “The man who cut out his own appendix”, BBC, 05-May-2015, www.bbc.com].
The Antarctic ordeal wasn’t entirely over for Dr Rogozov. Mission completed, the expedition was meant to be picked up by a Soviet vessel about 12 months after the doctor’s self-appendectomy, however exceptionally bad weather and thick sea ice prevented it from getting close enough. Consequently there was a further lengthy delay before all the explorers were eventually evacuated by single-engine aircraft, a distinctly hairy manoeuvre in the treacherous polar conditions. Back in the USSR Leonid Rogozov was hailed as a hero of the Motherland and honoured with the Order of the Red Banner of Labour, although the good doctor did his utmost to shun the huge publicity focused on him, preferring simply to return to his medical clinic work in Leningrad.
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Footnote: As a consequence of the 1961 Soviet expedition’s medical quasi-catastrophe, several countries including Australia made appendectomies mandatory for Antarctic explorers about to embark on an expedition to the farthest southern continent.
Mr Moto Goes to the Movies
The popularity of Earl Derr Biggers’ Chinese detective creation Charlie Chan triggered a demand for this kind of Asian–American mystery crime fiction, paving the way for a spinoff into a profitable movie series. Biggers’ early death in 1933 after publishing just five Chan books left a void in fiction that other writers were not slow to try to fill. Encouraged by the editor of the Saturday Evening Post, which had serialised the Charlie Chan books, author John P Marquand created his notion of an Asian “detective” hero who triumphs in white society, Mr Moto. Mr Moto is Japanese, quiet, small and seemingly meek of nature, like Charlie Chan he roams the globe solving crimes and exposing murderers. Unlike Chan he uses ju-jitsu as well as brains to overcome and apprehend the bad guys.
Marquand eventually completed six novels centring around the Japanese secret agent/sleuth – Your Turn, Mr. Moto, Thank You, Mr. Moto, Think Fast, Mr. Moto, Mr. Moto is So Sorry, Last Laugh, Mr. Moto (all in the 1930s) and Right You Are, Mr. Moto (1957). 20th Century Fox bought the films rights (as they had with the Charlie Chan novels), and casting Hungarian-American actor Peter Lorre as the Japanese spy Moto🅐, rapidly made eight publicly well-received B-features in two years – Think Fast, Mr. Moto, Thank You, Mr. Moto, Mr. Motor’s Gamble, Mr. Moto Takes a Chance, Mysterious Mr. Moto, Mr. Moto’s Last Warning, Mr. Moto in Danger Island and Mr. Moto Takes a Vacation (the series was variously set in Hawaii, Mongolia, Peking, Cambodia/Siam, Egypt, Devil’s Island, Puerto Rico, at sea, San Francisco and other locations in the US).
Your Turn, Mr. Moto: Book and movie The film is only loosely based on the original novel, retaining only some of the key characters like American Tom Nelson and Prince Tung, introduces new characters and makes the quest for the ancient Chinese scrolls a more central element than in the novel where it is subordinated to the question of Japo–Chinese relations🅑.
Apart from some overlap of titles there are big differences between the books and the movies. One of the most conspicuous is Mr Moto’s presence in the stories. In Marquand’s novels, the character of Mr Moto goes missing for large parts of the books (though he’s always actively working towards his objectives “off-stage”)…meanwhile attention switches to the male (American) protagonist who finds himself in trouble of some kind or other🅒. Moto returns to intervene at a crucial moment, the American is saved and finds redemption (which is the key to the plot). In the films by contrast, Mr Moto tends to “fill the screen and animate the whole series”. In the books Moto is “I.A. Moto”, a secret agent working for the imperial Japanese government, but in the films he is presented as “Kentaro Moto” (as his printed business card states), an Interpol agent. Moreover the two mediums craft quite different types of crime stories, the novels were international espionage adventures which Hollywood turned into formulaic detective stories on the screen, [Schneider, Michael A. “Mr. Moto: Improbable International Man of Mystery.” The Journal of American-East Asian Relations, vol. 22, no. 1, 2015, pp. 7–16. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43898402. Accessed 5 Nov. 2024].
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Mr Moto’s talents don’t stop at crime solving. He’s also a polymath, polyglot, art connoisseur, a graduate of Stanford University, amateur archaeologist and importer–exporter on the side. In some of these roles he demonstrates his special flair for effecting disguise, a ploy he uses to deflect suspicion from himself, blending in to exotic locales while undertaking dangerous spying assignments [‘Observations on Film Art: Charlie, Meet Kentaro’, Kristin Thompson & David Bordwell; David Bordwell’s website on cinema, 16-Mar-2007, www.davidbordwell.net; “‘Asian Detectives’. An Overview’, Philippa Gates, Crime Culture, www.crimeculture.com].
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The Charlie Chan nexus: With two highly bankable screen detectives at its disposal Fox recognised the value of cross-promotion when the opportunity arose. The 1938 Moto movie Mr. Moto’s Gamble was originally meant to be a Warner Oland-starring Charlie Chan feature, however Oland’s ill-health and untimely death squashed those plans. Fox substituted Mr. Moto’s Gamble for the canned Chan movie and the producers kept Oland’s co-star Keye Luke in his No. 1 son role opposition Lorre this time, even allowing Mr Moto to politely inquire with Lee Chan (Luke) as to his honourable father’s health.
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Moto, genial but ruthless: Irrespective of the connexions and references between Charlie Chan and Kentaro Moto, Lorre’s off-centre sense of humour ensures that on screen Moto is “no Chan clone”. Although Moto, like Chan, employs logic and deduction in his policing methods and is quiet, meek exceedingly polite in public dealings (and a milk drinker no less!), he is also very much a man of action, disposing of physical threats to him with his uncompromising ju-jitsu prowess…in the case of the story’s murderer, once revealed, Moto customarily dispenses with the need for trial, having no qualms about liquidating him with 007-like utter ruthlessness, something Chan with his high moral code would never contemplate (Gates).
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Mr Moto‘s personal side is as shadowy as his profession, to the audience it’s a blank slate. He has no family and no love life and his only companion is his cat. The only hint of a possible romance is his liaison with Lela (or Lotus) Liu (Lotus Long) in Think Fast, Mr. Moto and Mysterious Mr. Moto, but she turns out to be an agent like him and their attachment seems to be more a matter of working together to solve the case. Moto is a “lone wolf” when investigating cases, working solo without assistants. Occasionally he does ally with a self-appointed sidekick—usually a naive or gormless American or English idiot—who sometimes inadvertently unearths crucial evidence but as always it’s Mr Moto who unravels the mystery.
”Them Nipponese sure are peculiar birds”: Mr Moto, a Japanese man in 1930s America, is inevitably exposed in the stories to the casual racism of various people he meets, but the prejudice he cops seems more overt than the more subtle racist slurs DI Chan is subjected to. Possibly, this was a reflection of growing pro-Chinese feelings in America then in the wake of unremitting Japanese aggression against China in Manchuria. Moto, unfazed by the jibes, manages to turn the racism back on the perpetrators without their realising it…though he speaks perfectly fluent English he sometimes pretends to indulge their expectations of the stereotypical Asian: “Ah, so!!! Suiting you?”, he mocks in his singsong repartee manner 🅓 (Thompson & Bordwell).
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What makes Lorre’s star turn as the mysterious Japanese secret agent so good is that he plays the role absolutely tongue-in-cheek and with considerable charm [‘A Guide to the Mr Moto Films’, Charles P. Mitchell, Classic Images, www.webarchive.org]. Although I wonder if Moto’s ever-smiling, ultra-polite, insufferable smugness with gleaming teeth while correcting lesser mortals as to the error of the misconceptions didn’t start to grate with some movie-watchers after a while?
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As the series continued the film storylines and situations predictably became more formulaic. After eight features Peter Lorre called it quits, seeking a release from his Mr Moto contract. The Moto sub-genre was still very popular at the box office but it’s probable that Lorre’s concern was that he was being typecast again as Moto (having previously been stereotyped as a psycho killer), which he felt was limiting his choices of different parts (Gates).
Footnote: Where did Marquand get his inspiration for the character of Mr Moto? Marquand undertook a research tour of the Orient in 1934 to gather material for his Asian detective project. While in Japan he aroused the suspicions of a short, exceedingly polite police detective who started shadowing the American author on his journeys. Eventually the Japanese detective, realising that Marquand was no threat to the country, stopped tailing him. This chance encounter provided Marquand with the spark for the character of Moto.
🅐 leaving the series and Lorre open to retrospective criticism for engaging in “Yellowface”, although Moto hasn’t attracted the ire of modern critics to the same extent as the Charlie Chan series has for the steady stream of white actors who have portrayed the Chinese super-detective up until as recently as 1981 – see previous post ‘Charlie Chan, Murder Mystery-Buster Extraordinaire: A Positive Asian Stereotype or an Oriental “Uncle Tom”?’, (29 October 2024)
🅑 Marquand’s focus in the books is on the clash of cultures, European/American vs Oriental (Japanese/Chinese), to a much greater degree that the films
🅒 the first book, Your Turn, Mr. Moto, was originally titled No Hero, a reference to another character, not Moto
🅓 Mr. Moto Takes a Chance
“W”, “X”, “Y” & “Z” Words from Left Field II: Redux. A Supplement to the Logolept’s Diet
<word meaning & root formation>
Wadi: valley; stream; watercourse drying up in summer; oasis [from Arab. wādī, (“river” or “watercourse,”)]
Wanion: unluckily, due to the waning of the moon [from MidEng. waniand, from wanien, wanen (“to wane”)]
Withershins: in an unfortunate direction [from MidHighGer. wider (“against”)+ –sin (“direction”)] Witling: a petty smart Alec; a mere pretender to wit (Bowler)[conjunction of wit + -ling]
<word meaning & root formation>
Xenium: a present given to a guest [from Gk. xenial (pertaining to hospitality or relationship between host and guest) (cf. Xenodochium: a building for the reception of strangers; a caravanserai)
Caravanserai in Fars, Iran
Xenogenous: due to an outside cause; of foreign origin [from Gk. xeno]
word meaning & root formation
Yaul: to deviate from a stable course because of oscillation about the longitudinal axis (Rocket science) (Origin unknown)
Yegg: a burglar of safes; safecracker (Origin obscure: one (dubious) suggestion is from German jäger (“hunter”))
The challenge of the Yegg (Chubb advertisement)
Yemeles: negligent; careless; heedless [OldEng. from Germ.]
Yisse: desire or covet (Origin unknown)
word meaning & root formationZeigarnik: (Psych.) the theory that people remember unfinished or interrupted tasks better than completed tasks; the tendency to remember an uncomplicated task [named after Lithuanian-Soviet psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik (Zeigarnik Effect]
Zelotypia: morbid zeal; excessive jealousy [L. zēlotypia (“jealousy”) (Pliny) from Gk. (“jealousy, rivalry, envy“)
Zoilism: carping; destructive criticism [from Zoilus, ancient Greek grammarian and literary critic … was hyper-critical of Homer (Zoilus the “Homeromastix”)]
Zoilus of Ephesus
Zooerastia: (–asty) the practice of a human engaging in sexual intercourse with an animal; bestiality [from Gk. zoo + -astia]
Zoopery: experimentation on animals [from zoo + L. –operārī (“to work, labor, toil, have effect”)]
Zugzwang: a state of play in chess where the player is at a disadvantage as his or her next move will worsen their position in the game (cf. snookering) [from Ger. (“compulsion to move”)]
Zugzwang