"Jonathan Clements changed my life…"

Far be I from one to brag… much, but there is a glowing review of Schoolgirl Milky Crisis by Elizabeth Hand in the latest issue of Fantasy & Science Fiction. I am not sure I will ever live up to many of the claims made in it, but I shall enjoy imagining how.

All For One…

The New Three Musketeers, a Japanese TV show based on the book by Alexandre Dumas, with a script by Welcome Back Mr McDonald‘s Koki Mitani. 40 x 20 minutes, running daily on NHK. What’s not to like…?  Someone, surely, from the world of television must think this is worth a punt? Well, NHK does for a start, as they are apparently already running it in English on their international channel.

The Japanese have always done well with the source material. Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds is still a childhood favourite with many of my generation. There was also an anime Three Musketeers in the 1980s, in which Aramis turned out to be a woman in disguise. But the sequence above is only the opening credits, with music from Spanish Connection (the whole thing seems oddly Spanish — perhaps a leftover from Dogtanian, or even Alatriste). The show itself is the latest in NHK’s long-running cycle of puppet shows, which has previously included such gems as Aerial City 008, Madcap Island and New Hakkenden.

Here are the puppets themselves in action:

You can find out more about the history of Japanese puppetry in the entries on individual shows for the Dorama Encyclopedia and the larger survey included in the Anime Encyclopedia. But I’m still finding stuff out, like this, and like the stories in Yasuo Otsuka’s The Prospect of Little Nemo, in which he recounts the impact in Tokyo of an “epoch-making” 1961 puppet performance of Macbeth, and how the staff behind it soon found themselves working in TV, and then on anime.

Mad Dogs and Engrishmen

Back in the days of Anime UK we used to call it Japlish, but far leveller heads have prevailed in the mainstream, and today it is usually known as Engrish. It is an awful, fractured mangling of English, usually found in Japanese instruction leaflets and T-shirts, where someone has had a really good stab at English, but ended up saying something mildly rude or downright ludicrous.

But while we point and laugh at little old ladies with obscene phrases on their T-shirts, we should perhaps wonder what happens when the reverse happens. Believe me when I say it is no urban myth that some oriental tattooists have wreaked a terrible revenge on drunken chavs in their care. I once saw a woman in a Stratford supermarket with Stupid White Bitch written in perfect, permanent Chinese across her shoulders, although she was convinced that it some kind of romantic haiku. What can you say in a situation like that? It’s not like the truth is going to help anyone…

Which brings me to this month’s story – a little glimpse of the world of T-shirt manufacture and Japanese slogans, not in Japan, but right here in the UK. A designer had knocked up a very nice picture of Wolverine fighting the Incredible Hulk, and had decided to throw in their names in Japanese to be cool. To do this, he switched his font to Japanese and simply typed them in. I mean, that was how translation happened, right?

Luckily someone smelled a rat, and decided to run everything past an expert. When they couldn’t find an expert, they came to me, and I snickeringly informed them that the Japanese words on the picture were deliciously random. In fact, according to the legend, they had found a metal-clawed member of the X-Men whose name was apparently Dellabe Pissbarmy, and he was fighting a muscly, green-skinned man called Gaggy Bammy Sauce Swishy Bag-o-bay.

A few emails with the aid of a Japanese word processor, and I had saved everyone’s blushes, although almost immediately I started to feel pangs of Evil Translator Guilt. In order to bring a little joy to the world, surely I should have looked at their mock-up and said: “Yes, that’s absolutely fine.” Better men than I have clearly once been working at Japanese advertising companies and marketing firms, and managed to say with a straight face that Baseball Throw-Up is an ideal T-shirt slogan, as is Sroog: Your Demonstrator Has a PhD For, which I once actually had on a T-shirt and proudly wore all over London.

Broken Japanese, of course, is the common currency of the otaku, and I have long since stopped trying to correct it when it is flung around me like some sort of linguistic dirty protest. I regularly hear anime fans, for example, adding a superfluous honorific in introductions as if addressing themselves, (e.g.: “Call me Derek-chan”) which as my Japanese teacher once memorably explained: “You would only do if you were a bit simple.” But who am I to stop such faux pas from bringing a little joy into the life of the Japanese? I now realise that I really let the side down by not waving through Dellabe Pissbarmy to give all the Japanese tourists a laugh next time they are in London. Oh well, next time…

(This article first appeared in NEO #68, 2010)