THE COMMON ROUND

Otago Daily Times, Issue 23858, 12 July 1939, Page 2

THE COMMON ROUND

By Wayfarer

From another of our brilliant string of amateur economists (a pity, in a way, that they do not attach themselves to Mr Nash, who needs them, instead of to us, whose economy is as simple as that of Mr Micawber) comes a plan to end all plans: Dear “ Wafc,” —Every time I turn on our wireless I hear someone telling me how the standard of ■ living in New Zealand has gone up. In my business experience I have . known dozens of people who had a

very high standard of living—much higher than mine—but the week after they became bankrupt they had quite a low standard of living— even lower than mine.

And a politician’s emphatic statement that New Zealand was never more prosperous awakens memories of one or two men who. even after the receiver had been put in. insisted that their businesses were quite sound and if they were left alone to run them all would be well. In these days a '* plan ” is the remedy for all economic ills. I myself think New Zealand is reaching a stage where a plan is necessary to get her out of the mire. It would be something like this: The British Parliament will be dissolved and. the New Zealand Government will take over the Government and finance of Great Britain. The prices of wool, butter, cheese, and meat will all be fixed at 2s per lb. Australians shall be limited to ’ producing half the wool butter, etc., at present produced. The Bank of England will buy up the New Zealand loan of £17.000,000 bv issuing new notes. Wages in Great Britain shall be increased by 25 per cent, in order that workers have sufficient to pay the increased prices.

But now I have a headache, so 1 will not go any further. —Yours truly Reader. It seems as foolproof as any other scheme for the relief of the distressed Government that we have studied lately. We shall merely commend it for Cabinet’s consideration, with the observation that in one particular it is already being tried out in a slightly different form. The issuing of notes against the £17,000,000 is a moral (or, if you are a New Zealand capitalist, an immoral) certainty, or we lose our bet. But unfortunately they will be given by the New Zealand Government to the Bank, not vice versa—nromissory notes.

Then anent our recent discussion of Maori place-names and their sometimes startling English equivalents our valued Native authority provides a guarded note. Quotha;

Dear 'Wafe.”~ln your discourse on Maori place names you might well have tolled a warning to those people who celebrate in panels or beaten bronze on their gates a commendable but often misguided admiration for the Maori tongue. There is. for Instance, • the eminently respectable resident of one of our hill suburbs who little realises the anatomical implications of the beau-tifully-inscribed name beside his house number. Another home, also on the hill, proudly proclaims itself to be something that no house ever could be. although one might associate the meaning of the word with a small and particular type of building. Yet another suburb sports a residence whereat, should a visitor comply with the injunction on the neat nameplate, /the spectacle afforded to anyone opening the door would be as interesting, as it was unconventional. I know an avenue (not in Dunedin, however) In which any man. knowing how to translate the name, would—or should—feel positively sacrilegious in treading, and a town which I am stlre the inhabitants would like renamed were it not for the embarrassment that would be caused in attempting to explain why. It is. incidentally, one of the towns tactfully dealt with in the little book quoted by you. X notice, by the »way. that the author of that booklet pointed out for those interested in Kaikoura that the name meant kal (eat) koura (crayfish), but omitted to remind the hardy folk of Kaltangata that " tangata ” meant “ man.”

This disquisition may be interpreted as a horrible warning to those who in naming a house value euphony above euphemism. It is time that the suburbs looked to their nameplates.

Our correspondent continues: The Maori tongue is euphonious, but it has many pitfalls, and more than a fragmentary knowledge is required to analyse these names. Taking them syllable or apparent word at a time leads to as many disasters as would the same procedure with our own language. Which reminds me of a story attributed to the late Sir Maui Pomare. A party with which he was travelling to the east coast included two prim old ladies who, aided by a small printed vocabulary, were making gallant attempts to interpret the names of the various towns en route. This meant, of course, that they appealed to the Maori M.P. at every guess. At Walpukurau the old dears went into a huddle and emerged with the following; stomach, rau—hundred.” Waterstomach —hundred! This didn’t make sense, so once again they begged for help. Pom ” was getting rather tired of it all. “Before we go any further on Maori names,” he retorted, “let’s how some of your European ones will stand dissection. Take any at random—for Instance, category.’ Cat’—that’s easy, we know what a cat is: ‘e’—well, many European’s drop their aspirates, so this may be ‘ he,’ indicating the masculine: ’gory’—that’s easy, too; gore is blood, gory is therefore, category must mean - tomcat! Am I right? ’’ And in the ensuing silence he had opportunity to resume the neglected preparation of a speech Englishmen (and proper English ladies) are well advised to concentrate upon the idiosyncrasies of their own tongue before seeking enlightenment in others.

The use in our correspondent’s reticent prose of that evocative “ —which every schoolgirl would probably fill in with 100 per cent, accuracy, reminds us of its recent first appearance on any kinema screen, in the Pascal version of “Pygmalion." Inevitably, the ensanguined emphasis which Galatea Doolittle lends to her determination to take a taxi gives rise to a nervous ripple of laughter among the members of the audience—as it did in “ White Cargo,” when first this mildly lurid adjective took its place in the New Zealand stage vocabulary: as it has done in more than one local repertory production; as it did. no doubt, back in the pre-war era, when Mrs Patrick Campbell (from memory, the original Eliza) shocked and titillated London audiences with the use of so daring an expression.

We do not complain about that. If a kinema audience can get a kick out of hearing spoken in a film that same word which father probably applies to the slugs in the cabbages, little Willie to his homework, and the dustman to the ash-buckets when he spills them on the footpath, we would not seek to deprive them of their mass-conscious giggle.

Nor would we begrudge them their full-hearted enjoyment of a most excellent and amazingly popular film. Be it said that the public appreciation of 44 Pygmalion ” is the most gratifying evidence in years that the New Zealand people can recognise a good thing when they see it—it is the movie-makers, not the movie-goers, perhaps, who are moronic.

It is sad, however, to think that of the thousands in Dunedin who have seen the film “Pygmalion,” and laughed at Shaw’s quips, the brilliant Howard-Hiller-Lawson recreation of his ever-sprightly play, few will profit by it. „ Mr Shaw has asserted, in text and precept, that art should never be anything else but didactic. “ Pygmalion " is—as what Shavian work is not?—a didactic play. • Said Mr Shaw in prefacing it a quarter-century ago: The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it They spell it so abominably that no man can teach himself what it sounds like. It is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth e without making some other Englishman hate or despise him. German and Spanish are accessible to foreigners; English is not accessible even to Englishmen. The reformer England needs to-day is an energetic phonetic enthusiast; that is why I have made such a one the hero of a popular play Alas! the need to-day, in England and in New Zealand too, is as great. And not one but a thousand thousand enthusiasts are needed—in the schools, for certain: in the film studios for sure; in the radio stations without question. And why not, for that, matter, in factories, offices, amateur theatrical organisations? Perhaps most of all in those rarefied circles in which what Mr Shaw characterises “ the vulgar dialect of the golf club ” prevails. For here, in the mellifluous accents of Oxford-cum-Cambridge-ex-Cock-ney, is spoke the speech that is exemplar to all in the community who wish to make a noise like ladies and gentlemen.

Pronunciation note: “ Hurlingham.—The only possible variation in this word is in respect of the 4 h' in 4 ham,’ which is silent.” Well, you’ll have a 'ard job to ’ammer that into our 'ead.

44 Boxing Championship—Louis May Meet Pastor. y More muscular Christianity.

A score of Doukhobor women, says a • Vancouver message, shed . their clothes and marched on the nearby city of Nelson. We trust this was an occasion upon which Nelson applied the blind eye to the telescope.

Apropos the cable message stating that South American Nazis are subscribing to purchase a crown for Herr Hitler, we are asked to deny that there is any truth in the rumour that a group of loyal Dunediners is arranging to crown Mr M. J. Savage.

Sporting note: “Bridegroom In Close Finish.” In the Matrimonial Stakes presumably.

Dunedin residents who secure a load of hops for their gardens report that it attracts the beautiful chaffinches. A motorist complains that when he takes a load of hops aboard, purely for medicinal purposes, he finds it attracts the attention of the less beautiful traffic inspectors.