This third post will reflect on the nature of “otherness” for W. S. Gilbert in The Mikado. Although this opera is supposedly focused on a Japanese society, there are elements of other cultures interspersed throughout the different scenes, including words pulled from other languages and a mix of government styles. Gilbert does not present any sort of unified voice for the Japanese; his version of “foreignness” isn’t an exclusive presentation of the Japanese, but rather a mix-and-match grab bag of other cultures, all presented in one lump form of otherness.
For me, the mix of languages was remarkable. This is a play set in Japan, and performed in English. If an audience member was to expect any foreign language to be interspersed throughout the performance, they would expect Japanese. There are a few items borrowed from the Japanese language (including the Miya Sama march that Sullivan borrowed), but the only phrase included in the text is “O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to” (Gilbert 393), which translates roughly to “Oh, no, what a surprise and shock” (Glinert 832). Even when this is said, it is only as a bunch of gibberish sounds used “to drown [Katisha’s] voice” (Gilbert 393), and not a phrase invoked to demonstrate or exemplify the Japanese language. However, immediately after this, Katisha shouts “your gay gambado!” which is a Spanish word for “surprise action” (Glinert 832). Why use a Spanish word in this context, when you have just spoken in Japanese? With no indication to the contrary, Gilbert uses these languages interchangeably as if the difference in the two foreign tongues is negligible. Other words used in The Mikado include the Italian words “con fuoco” (with fire); “gioco” (joke); and the Dutch word “snickersnee” (knife). While the Japanese phrase is understandable in an operetta set in Japan, how does one go about explaining the Spanish, Italian, and Dutch? The sound of these non-English words would be delightfully foreign to an audience, but would they be able to tell the difference between the languages? And if they could, do you think it would affect their viewing of this operetta? The “otherness” that Gilbert presents isn’t England versus Japan (versus Spain versus Italy versus the Netherlands), but rather England versus the world as two lump groups, with no distinctions between different sorts of “others.”
In portraying the Japanese setup of government, Gilbert mixes Japanese government positions and English ones. This concept is of particular interest to me – why mix and match the foreign with your own culture? My first opinion is the ease of access for English audiences. Not having to explain the Japanese style of government, but simply to put the Japanese hat of “Mikado” on the leader and have every other position representative of current British offices would be the easiest way to set up this opera to an audience unfamiliar with the Japanese government. But, is it ethically right to purposefully change the representation of a culture, just for the sake of confusion? Are there ethics one must follow in art or in performances? Do ethics change or become complicated by the performance nature of operas or other stage productions?
Does this mixing of foreign cultures make Gilbert’s portrayal of the Japanese culture less legitimate, less effective, or less believable? Does it make you trust your connections/reactions to the work as a whole less?
For me, the mix of languages was remarkable. This is a play set in Japan, and performed in English. If an audience member was to expect any foreign language to be interspersed throughout the performance, they would expect Japanese. There are a few items borrowed from the Japanese language (including the Miya Sama march that Sullivan borrowed), but the only phrase included in the text is “O ni! bikkuri shakkuri to” (Gilbert 393), which translates roughly to “Oh, no, what a surprise and shock” (Glinert 832). Even when this is said, it is only as a bunch of gibberish sounds used “to drown [Katisha’s] voice” (Gilbert 393), and not a phrase invoked to demonstrate or exemplify the Japanese language. However, immediately after this, Katisha shouts “your gay gambado!” which is a Spanish word for “surprise action” (Glinert 832). Why use a Spanish word in this context, when you have just spoken in Japanese? With no indication to the contrary, Gilbert uses these languages interchangeably as if the difference in the two foreign tongues is negligible. Other words used in The Mikado include the Italian words “con fuoco” (with fire); “gioco” (joke); and the Dutch word “snickersnee” (knife). While the Japanese phrase is understandable in an operetta set in Japan, how does one go about explaining the Spanish, Italian, and Dutch? The sound of these non-English words would be delightfully foreign to an audience, but would they be able to tell the difference between the languages? And if they could, do you think it would affect their viewing of this operetta? The “otherness” that Gilbert presents isn’t England versus Japan (versus Spain versus Italy versus the Netherlands), but rather England versus the world as two lump groups, with no distinctions between different sorts of “others.”
In portraying the Japanese setup of government, Gilbert mixes Japanese government positions and English ones. This concept is of particular interest to me – why mix and match the foreign with your own culture? My first opinion is the ease of access for English audiences. Not having to explain the Japanese style of government, but simply to put the Japanese hat of “Mikado” on the leader and have every other position representative of current British offices would be the easiest way to set up this opera to an audience unfamiliar with the Japanese government. But, is it ethically right to purposefully change the representation of a culture, just for the sake of confusion? Are there ethics one must follow in art or in performances? Do ethics change or become complicated by the performance nature of operas or other stage productions?
Does this mixing of foreign cultures make Gilbert’s portrayal of the Japanese culture less legitimate, less effective, or less believable? Does it make you trust your connections/reactions to the work as a whole less?
In my research, I discovered the personality of William Schwenk Gilbert was a hot-button topic. There were many critiques of his odd and egotistical ways. One such interesting point was that "Gilbert was a prolific correspondent who made a habit of keeping drafts of his replies, particularly when, as frequently happened, he believed himself to be in the right and his correspondent in the wrong" (Gransden 67). When questioned about his off-color portrayal of the Japanese people, Gilbert made this extreme reply:
"[The Japanese] attained their present condition of civilization very gradually, and at the date of my story they had particular tastes, ideas, and fashions of their own, many of which they discarded when they found out that they did not coincide with the ideas of the more enlightened countries of Europe. So if my readers are of the opinion (as they very likely will be) that some of their customs, as are revealed in this story, are curious, odd or ridiculous, they must bear in mind that the Japan of that time was unlike the Japan of today" ("The Story of the Mikado Told by Sir W. S. Gilbert," as quoted in Beckerman 317).
Essentially, he says here "that perhaps he did make the Japanese ridiculous in The Mikado, but that is only because they were ridiculous!" (Beckerman 317). As a reader, this extremely discriminatory remark makes me regard the rest of the work in a lower light.
Does knowing these facts about Gilbert's personal habits and opinions affect your understanding of his opinions? Does it make you trust his sense of "otherness" less? Is it possible to separate the function of the text from the author, or does this lend to an incomplete interpretation of it?
Sources:
Gilbert, William Schwenck, and Ed Glinert. The Savoy Operas: The Complete Gilbert and Sullivan. London: Penguin, 2008.
Beckerman, Michael. "The Sword on the Wall: Japanese Elements and Their Significance in ‘The Mikado’." The Musical Quarterly 73.3 (1989): 303-19. JSTOR. Web.
Gransden, K. W., and P. J. Willetts. "Papers of W.S. Gilbert." The British Museum Quarterly 21.3 (1958): 67-69. JSTOR. Web.
I find your comments about the different languages employed in The Mikado very interesting. I would have to say it seems to be a lazy sort of stereotyping on Gilbert's part. He doesn't seem to have researched Japanese culture or immersed himself in it. Rather it seems like he's using his fictional depiction of Japan (which arguably could have been any other location, he just needed something foreign and "other") as a way to critique aspects of English cultures and institutions, which as you point out, he intersperses throughout the text.
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