Speaking, as Your Humble Blogger was, of the ability to appreciate the good and the bad together, I wonder whether anybody these days reads the Bre’r Rabbit stories in the magnificent dialect versions of Joel Chandler Harris. Yes, yes, I know, there’s a racism inherent in those stories, and the fact that the paternalism wasn’t as vicious a species of supremacy as the lynch-mob violence that was common at the time doesn’t make it harmless. I know all that, and I think it’s important to keep it in mind.
But, keeping all that in mind, these stories are terrific. I mean, terrific.
I got my Perfect Non-Reader a nice Disney-illustrated version of the Tar-Baby story from the library (it also contains one or two other stories, but is centered around the stories in The Wonderful Tar-Baby and The Briar Patch), and it’s a nice version, and the Tar-Baby is no longer a Tar-Baby, so one doesn’t have to worry about epithets coming into the vocabulary (as my Perfect Non-Reader is a bit of a Tar-Baby herself when it comes to new words sticking to her). But as she and my Best Reader were reading it, I grew increasingly frustrated by the bland language, and how the wonderful, powerful rhythms of Mr. Harris were lost. For instance, the constant refrain of “Brer Fox, he lay low” is jettisoned; there’s no repetition in the adapted version. And when Brer Fox, in the adaptation assisted by Brer Bar, reveals himself, he says “Your tricks are over, Brer Rabbit. As soon as we fix a fire, we are going to roast you. I can hardly wait!” In Mr. Harris’ version, he says, sezee:
‘Well, I speck I got you dis time, Brer Rabbit,’ sezee; ‘maybe I ain’t, but I speck I is. You been runnin’ roun’ here sassin’ atter me a mighty long time, but I speck you done come ter de een’ er de row. You bin cuttin’ up yo’ capers en bouncin’ ’roun’ in dis neighberhood twel you come ter b’leeve yo’se’f de boss er de whole gang. En den youer allers some’rs whar you got no business,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee. ‘Who ax you fer ter come en strike up a ’quaintance wid dish yer Tar-Baby? En who stuck you up dar whar you iz? Nobody in de roun’ worril. You des tuck en jam yo’se’f on dat Tar-Baby widout waitin’ fer enny invite,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee, ‘en dar you is, en dar youll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile and fires her up, kaze I’m gwineter bobby-cue you dis day, sho,’ sez Brer Fox, sezee.Now, I know the adaptation is simplifying, and that’s good, but surely it’s possible to come up with something with more flavor to it.
You’ve come to the end of the row, Brer Rabbit. And I didn’t do a thing. You stuck yourself, and stuck you’ll stay while I start a fire to roast you!But my point wasn’t really to whinge about Disney; even a good adaptation can’t have the grandeur of the original. One the other hand, it might be easier on a reader to have a sort of translation out of the dialect spelling, while keeping the grammar that’s necessary to the rhythm:
‘Well, I expect I got you this time, Brer Rabbit,’ says he; ‘maybe I ain’t, but I expect I is. You been running around here sassing after me a mighty long time, but I expect you done come to the end of the row. You been cutting up your capers and bouncing around in this neighborhood until you come to believe yourself the boss of the whole gang. And then you’re always somewheres where you got no business,’ says Brer Fox, says he. ‘Who asked you for to come and strike up an acquaintance with this here Tar-Baby? And who stuck you up there where you is? Nobody in the round world. You just took and jammed yourself on that Tar-Baby without waiting for any invite,’ says Brer Fox, says he, ‘and there you is, and there you’ll stay until I fixes up a brush-pile and fires her up, because I’m going to barbecue you this day, sure,’ says Brer Fox, says he.Maybe not. Anyway, I’m wondering how many Gentle Readers have read (or had read to them) the Joel Chandler Harris versions, and how many heard or read some other versions but never got Mr. Harris’ prose, and how many just never heard the story of the Wonderful Tar-Baby (not to mention the Laughing Place, and the tug’o’war between Brer Tarrypin and Brer B’ar)?
chazak, chazak, v’nitchazek,
-Vardibidian.
the book i had was a hunnerd years old if a day. whoso wrote it’s long gone from this head. but the stories hit me hard enough ta distrac’ me from dinosaurs for some time.
Ah remmer fondly when ah saw dis movie a long tam ago–yes, in de South it still got show’d ebry now ‘n den in the the-a-tars up inta de eighties! Ah never did have da pleasure of readin’ ’em, doh.
I’m only familiar with these stories at all through you, via a story reading at one point.
But, insofar as it’s easier to punch holes in others’ ideas than to come up with my own, i think un-dialectifying while keeping the original grammar is counterproductive. It’s not always the case, but it is usually the case, that dialects make words shorter. So just replacing words adds a bunch of extra syllables, which (to my internal ear, anyway) mess up the rhythm, while it’s still clear from the grammar that the speaker is not speaking Standard Midwestern English (or whatever).
I think if you like the originals, you had better stick with them, complete with discussion of keeping the racism in mind, even if that means waiting a few years longer than you’d like to read them.
Oh, I didn’t mean that the un-dialectified version is less racist, just that it might be easier to read. I have a lot of trouble just comprehending lines like En den youer allers some’rs whar you got no business; I can do it, but it takes a while.
Thanks,
-V.
I think you can catch some middle ground here:
(a) En den youer allers some’rs whar you got no business.
(b) And then you are always somewhere where you have got no business.
(c) And then you’re always somewhere where you got no business.
Ok, not the best example, but you can use words like fixin’ and gotcha and so on, and keep some of the dialectified feel, while still makin’ it easier ta read.