"I don't know, I've never kippled..."
which is the punchline to a very very (early 20th c) old joke that at the time was considered quite racy*, thank you very much!
I don't know why, but I've been thinking of the whole "where do racists come from" thing a lot lately, and how much there is in media to say "look at this, isn't it terrible" but the only effect it has overall is for those who Do Not Get It to say "nice musical, doesn't apply to me" (in the case of South Pacific, for example).
And so my thoughts turn to Rudyard Kipling. Who despite being many other things had quite the grasp of the situation and was not unwilling to put it into verse... but still managed to maintain his love of All Things Raj and Empire despite it. I have the same kind of love/hate relationship I do regarding the man vs the body of work that I do Victor Hugo. The work is brilliant, timely, timeless, artful. The person who created them? Not so much.
And for some reason today I remembered this poem that I first heard when Leslie Fish set it to music (she has permission from the National Trust not only to set Kipling's verse to music, but to publish it, which she has on some of the best filktapes I've ever owned). I imagine this being recited or sung by a smartass kid in a blond bob and a little lord Fauntleroy suit. Which I'm almost positive Kipling intended, actually...
(c&p'd from this page)
We and They
"A Friend of the Family"
From "Debits and Credits"(1919-1923)
Father and Mother, and Me, Sister and Auntie say All the people like us are We, And every one else is They. And They live over the sea, While We live over the way, But-would you believe it? --They look upon We As only a sort of They! We eat pork and beef With cow-horn-handled knives. They who gobble Their rice off a leaf, Are horrified out of Their lives; While they who live up a tree, And feast on grubs and clay, (Isn't it scandalous? ) look upon We As a simply disgusting They! We shoot birds with a gun. They stick lions with spears. Their full-dress is un-. We dress up to Our ears. They like Their friends for tea. We like Our friends to stay; And, after all that, They look upon We As an utterly ignorant They! We eat kitcheny food. We have doors that latch. They drink milk or blood, Under an open thatch. We have Doctors to fee. They have Wizards to pay. And (impudent heathen!) They look upon We As a quite impossible They! All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!
Yes. Imagine that. Exactly. This kid may never move past the indoctrination his family has foisted on him, but, considering the level of coyness he displays, perhaps Kipling hints that he might see his own irony after all.
Once you look past the preconceptions, the assumptions, the downright misinformation about They, once you acknowledge that They and We have the same merit, that's the point.
But don't fool yourselves into thinking that the point is an endpoint. Far from it. Congratulations, you have just reached the beginning point.
The endpoint is in another castle. Far away. And still under construction.
Start walking.
______________________
*roguish gent to innocent young woman: "Say there, do you like Kipling?"
I don't know why, but I've been thinking of the whole "where do racists come from" thing a lot lately, and how much there is in media to say "look at this, isn't it terrible" but the only effect it has overall is for those who Do Not Get It to say "nice musical, doesn't apply to me" (in the case of South Pacific, for example).
And so my thoughts turn to Rudyard Kipling. Who despite being many other things had quite the grasp of the situation and was not unwilling to put it into verse... but still managed to maintain his love of All Things Raj and Empire despite it. I have the same kind of love/hate relationship I do regarding the man vs the body of work that I do Victor Hugo. The work is brilliant, timely, timeless, artful. The person who created them? Not so much.
And for some reason today I remembered this poem that I first heard when Leslie Fish set it to music (she has permission from the National Trust not only to set Kipling's verse to music, but to publish it, which she has on some of the best filktapes I've ever owned). I imagine this being recited or sung by a smartass kid in a blond bob and a little lord Fauntleroy suit. Which I'm almost positive Kipling intended, actually...
(c&p'd from this page)
We and They
"A Friend of the Family"
From "Debits and Credits"(1919-1923)
Father and Mother, and Me, Sister and Auntie say All the people like us are We, And every one else is They. And They live over the sea, While We live over the way, But-would you believe it? --They look upon We As only a sort of They! We eat pork and beef With cow-horn-handled knives. They who gobble Their rice off a leaf, Are horrified out of Their lives; While they who live up a tree, And feast on grubs and clay, (Isn't it scandalous? ) look upon We As a simply disgusting They! We shoot birds with a gun. They stick lions with spears. Their full-dress is un-. We dress up to Our ears. They like Their friends for tea. We like Our friends to stay; And, after all that, They look upon We As an utterly ignorant They! We eat kitcheny food. We have doors that latch. They drink milk or blood, Under an open thatch. We have Doctors to fee. They have Wizards to pay. And (impudent heathen!) They look upon We As a quite impossible They! All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!
Yes. Imagine that. Exactly. This kid may never move past the indoctrination his family has foisted on him, but, considering the level of coyness he displays, perhaps Kipling hints that he might see his own irony after all.
Once you look past the preconceptions, the assumptions, the downright misinformation about They, once you acknowledge that They and We have the same merit, that's the point.
But don't fool yourselves into thinking that the point is an endpoint. Far from it. Congratulations, you have just reached the beginning point.
The endpoint is in another castle. Far away. And still under construction.
Start walking.
______________________
*roguish gent to innocent young woman: "Say there, do you like Kipling?"