The Beauty of Phrogging

First, let me say the winds around here last night and today are ridiculous. Steelton feels like the moors. I see craggy tors in the distance. I want to outwalk my passion on the moors. One wants to put on a Bronte shawl. One wonders what Heathcliff is doing.

Yeah, the cat.

It made me think of the closing lines of a Cole Swensen poem, which I suppose are true. I wondered if I could find this poem again in the Conjunctions archive, and it wasn't too hard since the site has the search feature like most others of its kind.

Here it is....

TO FALL


In such a sphere. No
light no stone. We
rush toward. Touch
and burn. If the world is round.
No cell is ever more than one cell away
from a supply of blood. Bright
red air. A permanent wind

would cease to be startling
in a year or two.


It's funny today. I have these Jungian synchronicities going on like Sting trying to make a concept album, except I wasn't trying.

Last night, I put this book, One Frog Can Make a Difference, on the steps leading up to the third floor because I wanted to say some good words about it. Then today eating my breakfast I watched Good Morning America and they did a feature on a notorious phrogging. And I wanted to blog on that, because it was a Pennsylvanian story that went national.

One Frog Can Make a Difference is one of those marvelous books Lee finds in the thrift store while I'm talking to a ceramic bear who has Lite Brite pegs stuck into him like St. Sebastian, or going into a daze looking at horrific three inch tall Christmas Carolers cast in plastic or plasticine forty years ago who look like bit evil characters in The Omen.

This is subtitled "Kermit's Guide to Life in the '90s," and the author is duh Kermit the Frog ("as told to Robert P. Riger.").

Yes, this is a Kermit novelty book, but it's adorable and very, very funny in places. It's already hard to pinpoint some of the source material for the satires (which tend to range in length from one page to three or four) since the nineties were so lacking in cultural substance, and fads were so mercifully brief. But there are recognizable satires on the Men's Movement, various self-help gurus ("Finding the Tadpole Within," for example), the eternal war between the, well, species, since Kermit dates Miss Piggy, and just delightfully outre feature like the surprisingly not ominous "French for Frogs" feature.

Here is an excerpt from that featurette...

"Let's face it. French is a tough language for frogs, even though some people think France is full of us.

A while ago, I was supposed to go there on a trip to Euro Disney, so I bought a little book called 30 Minutes to Speaking French Like a Frog. But it was almost useless. It didn't have any Froglais in it at all. Imagine not conjugating the verb to hop!

So here, in the interest of all you frogs who are planning a trip abroad to search for your roots, is a quick course in amphibious French."

[Here follow illustrations featuring...]

la grenouille
frog

le crapaud
toad

(and toads are always portrayed as tolerated bohos in Kermit's world. This one is ill-shaven, slovenly, wearing a wife beater and smoking a cigarette).

ribbette, ribbette
ribbit, ribbit

And some useful phrases shared include...

"Qui a fait naitre tous ces milliards de tetards, quand meme?"
"Who the heck hatched all these tadpoles, anyway?"

&

"Est-ce que vous avez une chambre
qui donne sur l'etang avec un
nenuphar prive?"

"Do you have a room that looks
out onto the pond with a
private water lily?"


&

"Le marais est toujours plus
vert de l'autre cote."

"The swamp is always greener
on the other side."


This book is truly charming, delightful. If you're interested you could probably find this on ABE for a good price. It makes a cute gag gift or gift for that frog lover, or lover of Kermit.

The next chapter, for instance, is titled "I'm Not an Amphibian American, I'm a Frog."

There are recipes which might leave you, well, green....or possibly green with envy if you are feeling gastronomically adventurous. Black flies a la Kermit includes such directions as "Marinate flies in oil, vinegar, lemon and lily-flower mixture."

And among the many fads skewered you will find "Frogs Who Hop with Women Who Run with Wolves but Can't Keep Up" and "I'm Okay, You're a Pig." (He does date Miss Piggy, remember?)

There's even a mini-essay on "Frogs in the Military." ("But whether my feet are flat has nothing to do with whether or not I can drive a submarine.") GO KERMIT, GO KERMIT, GO KERMIT...Springer whoops circa 1997 to Kermit!

Robert Riger, you have done a frogtastically great job of transcribing the thoughts of one of our greatest amphibian thinkers and cultural critics!

*     *     *     *

So from frogging to phrogging.

No, phrogging does not refer to that Kama Sutra quality sex where you segue from doggy-style to froggy-style because it can just never end.

Although the idea is sort of similar to that. Someone is piggybacking on you like froggies locked in amplexus.

Phrogging is the term created to describe the phenomenon of epiphenomenal people. These are people who suddenly appear and are living off of you the way an epiphyte like Spanish moss lives on a magnolia tree. Only you don't know they're there. They are secretly living in your dwelling and sharing your resources.

Phrogging is being an invisible squatter. It will save you money bigtime.

Remember the diminutive Japanese lady who was living in that young bachelor's apartment (where was that, Tokyo?) and he eventually caught her on a hidden camera, coming out like a little gray mouse to nibble on the goods in his refrigerator? I love that clip on YouTube!

Today on Good Morning America I learned Oprah has been fooled again by one of her authors, but I also learned that there was a phrogging case north of me in Wilkes-Barre that made national news.

It's a case of an adjoining house, and a young man (nineteen I think) who is wanted by police (nothing too serious I believe) was told to vacate the premises by his girlfriend or something, and he did.

He crawled through a crawlspace behind a closet into the attic which apparently the two houses share. And he took up residence there, living off the fat of the land. When the family of four (they have a teenage son and younger daughter) went to bed he would creep downstairs looking for good things like McDonald's leftovers, Dad's copies of Playboy or Ipods.

This greed for technology is ultimately what gave him away as "Bad Santa" apparently raided the Christmas gifts.

When you take a thirteen year old girl's Ipod Nano, there's going to be trouble. Like a shoot out at the Ok Corral trouble.

That's ultimately what got him caught.

That and the fact that someone noticed footprints leading to the closet which had the crawlspace up into the attic at the top. You can be sure the Japanese phrogging lady took off her shoes!

So the wanted guy was busted.

But get the most unimaginable part of this whole story!

While he was up there, he was blogging about his experience, cruising on MySpace and joking with his friends in postings, "Well I'd rather be up here than in jail."

No doubt. Makes sense to me.

He's actually an Arkansasan in Pennsylvania.

I like Arkansasans. I worked for a company based out of there, and they are the most polite people you'll meet. Just don't ever start on religion or politics and you'll stay the bestest of friends. Arkansasans are the sweethearts of the south. I still say "Do what?" when I don't hear someone correctly. That's Arkansasan for "say what?" You'd have to hear the correct pronunciation which is rather like "uhdoooehh whut?" And Arkansasans call you babe all the time, even if you're forty. The men even call you babe. You'll feel sexy despite yourself if you hang around with Arkansasans.

So phrogging made me think of Edogawa Rampo's "The Chair."

That's what I would call "extreme phrogging."

Here's some info on Rampo. His books from the fifties can often be found in sumptuous editions on ABE books for under ten dollars.

Rampo is such an intriguing, strange figure. I think in the future he will become huge again. I think Westerners will realize what great movies lie in wait in these books.

Rampo Edogawa
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In this Japanese name, the family name is Edogawa.
Rampo Edogawa


Born Tarō Hirai
October 21, 1894
Mie, Japan
Died July 28, 1965

Occupation Novelist
Nationality Japanese
Genres Detective fiction

Influences

Edgar Allan Poe, Maurice Leblanc, Arthur Conan Doyle
Rampo Edogawa (江戸川 乱歩 Edogawa Ranpo), born Tarō Hirai (平井 太郎 Hirai Tarō, October 21, 1894 - July 28, 1965) was a Japanese author and critic. He wrote many works of detective fiction. Kogoro Akechi was the primary detective of these novels.

Rampo was a great admirer of western mystery writers, and especially of Edgar Allan Poe. The pseudonym "Edogawa Rampo" is actually a Japanese rendering of Poe's name. Other authors who were special influences on him were Maurice Leblanc and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.


Biographical information

Tarō Hirai was born in Mie Prefecture in 1894. He grew up in Nagoya and studied economics at Waseda University starting in 1912. After graduating in 1916 he worked a series of odd jobs, including newspaper editing and selling soba noodles as a street vendor.

In 1923 he wrote his first mystery story, "The Two-Sen Copper Coin." (Nisen Dōka, 二銭銅貨). The story was soon published under the nom de plume "Edogawa Rampo" by the magazine "Shin Seinen," which had also published stories by Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Conan Doyle, and G. K. Chesterton. Although there is a history of crime literature in Japan, this is generally acknowledged to be the first original modern-style Japanese mystery story.

He later went on to found and head the Japan Mystery Writers' Club.

Rampo could understand spoken English, but could not speak or read it particularly well. He and his translator, James B. Harris, collaborated for five years on the first English translation of some of his stories.


Thematic elements

Many of Rampo's characters are preoccupied with planning and executing a "perfect crime."
Mirrors, lenses, and other optical devices appear in many of Rampo's stories and as symbols of distorted or heightened reality.
Many of Rampo's stories include characters who were wounded or disfigured during World War I.

Major works

[edit] "Kogoro Akechi" stories
"The Murder on D-Hill" (D坂の殺人事件, D-zaka no satsujin jiken?, January 1925)
"The Psychological Test" (心理試験, Shinri Shiken?, February 1925)
"The Black Hand Syndicate" (黒手組, Kurote-gumi?, March 1925)
"The Apparition" (幽霊, Yūrei?, May 1925)
"The Attic-Stroller" (屋根裏の散歩者, Yane-ura no Sanpōsha?, August 1925)
The Dwarf (一寸法師, Issun-bōshi?, 1926)
"Who" (何者, Nanimono?, November 1929)
"The Spider-Man" (蜘蛛男, Kumo-Otoko?, 1929)
The Utmost of the Bizarre (猟奇の果, Ryōki no Hate?, 1930)
The Conjurer (魔術師, Majutsu-shi?, 1930)
The Vampire (吸血鬼, Kyūketsuki?, 1930) First appearance of Kobayashi
The Golden Mask (黄金仮面, Ōgon-kamen?, 1930)
Black Lizard (黒蜥蜴, Kuro-tokage?, 1934) Made into a film by Kinji Fukasaku in 1968
The Were-Panther (人間豹, Ningen-Hyō?, 1934)
The Devil's Crest (悪魔の紋章, Akuma no Monshō?, 1937)
Dark Star (暗黒星, Ankoku-sei?, 1939)
Hell's Clown (地獄の道化師, Jigoku no Dōkeshi?, 1939)
"The Dangerous Weapon" (兇器, Kyōki?, June 1954)
(化人幻戯, Kenin-Gengi?, 1954)
Shadow-Man (影男, Kage-otoko?, 1955)
"Moon and Gloves" (月と手袋, Tsuki to Tebukuro?, April 1955)

[edit] Others
"The Two-Sen Copper Coin" (二銭銅貨, Ni-sen Dōka?, April 1923)
Hakuchū-mu (July 1925, 白昼夢)
"The Human Chair" (人間椅子, Ningen Isu?, October 1925)
"The Red Chamber" (赤い部屋, Akai heya?, April 1925)
The Strange Tale of the Panorama Island (パノラマ島奇談, Panorama-tō Kidan?, 1926)
Kohan-tei Jiken (1926, 湖畔亭事件)
"The Hell of Mirrors" (鏡地獄, Kagami-jigoku?, October 1926)
Beast in the Shadows (陰獣, Injū?, 1928)
"The Caterpillar" (芋虫, Imomushi?, 1929)
Kotō no Oni (1929, 孤島の鬼)
"The Traveler with the Pasted Rag Picture" (押絵と旅する男, Oshie to Tabi-suru Otoko?, 1929)
Hakuhatsu-ki (1931, 白髪鬼)
The Blind Beast (盲獣, Mōjū?, 1931)
Yōchū (1933, 妖虫)
Ryokui no Oni (1936, 緑衣の鬼)
Dai An Shitsu (1936, 大暗室)
Yūrei-tō (1937, 幽霊塔); translation from novel A Woman in Grey of Alice Muriel Williamson, adaptation by Kuroiwa Ruiko(黒岩涙香).
Yūki no Tō (1939, 幽鬼の塔)
The Triangle-Hall Terror (三角館の恐怖, Sankaku-kan no kyōfu?, 1951)
Jūjiro (1955, 十字路)

In popular culture

In 1994, a film entitled Rampo inspired by Rampo's works was released in Japan (The film was retitled The Mystery of Rampo for its American release). Rampo himself is the lead character of the film and is portrayed by actor Naoto Takenaka.

Some of Rampo's stories were later turned into short films in the 2005 compilation Rampo Noir, starring well-known actor Tadanobu Asano.

Barbet Schroeder's 2008 film Inju: The Beast in the Shadow is an adaptation of Rampo's 1928 short story.


Trivia

In the manga and subsequent anime Case Closed (Meitantei Conan, or Detective Conan in Japan), the protagonist Jimmy Kudo (Kudō Shin'ichi), chooses the pseudonym "Conan Edogawa" after Arthur Conan Doyle and Edogawa. He lives with his best friend, whose father is a detective named Kogoro. Conan's mother also occasionally uses the fake name Fumiyo, a reference to the wife of Edogawa's character Kogoro.
Another, less famous manga, CLAMP's Man of Many Faces (20 Mensō ni Onegai!!) is primarily inspired by the Kogoro Akechi series – in particular the villainous "20 Faces" character.
The manga and anime series Nijū Mensō no Musume (Daughter of Twenty Faces) is also inspired by the "twenty faces" character.

External links

Kurodahan Press A publisher which has released one book of Rampo fiction (Black Lizard and Beast in the Shadows), and will release a second volume of his best fiction and essays in 2008. All are translations into English.
Edogawa Rampo's World A fansite in English and Japanese.
Rampo, Edogawa, "Japanese Tales of Mystery and Imagination" Short fiction translated to English by James B. Harris. 1956, Charles E. Tuttle Company.
Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rampo_Edogawa"
Categories: 1894 births | 1965 deaths | Japanese novelists | Literary critics | Japanese mystery writers

I was surprised there wasn't more discussion of Rampo's creepy "The Chair," which I found discussed by an Amazon.com reviwer...
22 of 22 people found the following review helpful:
Japanese Weird Tales, October 18, 2004
By Zack Davisson "All Good Things" (Seattle, WA, USA) - See all my reviews


This review is from: Japanese Tales of Mystery & Imagination (Tuttle Classics of Japanese Literature) (Mass Market Paperback)

I can think of few more truly disturbing stories than Edogawa Rampo's "The Chair." A psychological fable describing in minute detail how a master furniture maker, obsessed with an unachievable woman, creates a chair with himself hidden inside. This chair is given to the woman, and each time she sits in it she nestles unknowingly in his lap, puts her weight onto him, lays her head against his face. The furniture maker silently feels her every night, without her ever knowing. The atmosphere, the detail of the language, and the sheer nature of the story combine for one of the classics of this genre.

"The Chair" is of course included in "Japanese Tales of Mystery & Imagination," a compilation by the father of Japanese mystery writing. Much is made of his adopting the Japanese pronunciation of Edgar Allan Poe as his pen name, but Rampo's style is his own. He favors psychological horror, and there are few elements of the supernatural to be found. Sociopaths and obsessives seem to be his stock in trade, with detailed exercises on how to commit the perfect, untraceable murder. Many of the stories end with some unexpected revelation, although I would not call it a "twist ending." The obsessive nature of the stories renders them all the more disturbing, as almost every story is something that could conceivably happen.

In addition to the excellent "The Chair," you will find "The Caterpillar" featuring a cruel wife's abuse of her de-limbed husband, "The Cliff," a back-and-forth story that will leave you wondering who is manipulating whom, "The Hell of Mirrors," wherein a man obsessed with optics and reflecting surfaces descends into insanity, "The Red Chamber," which reveals the true nature of those who are attracted to stories of others' deaths, "The Two Crippled Men," a story of a murderous sleepwalker who commits crimes without ever knowing it and "The Traveler with the Pasted Rag Picture," the only story with a supernatural tinge, showing brotherly devotion and love of the unreal.

Each story in "Japanese Tales of Mystery & Imagination" is well-selected, and James B. Harris does a fine job with the translation, maintaining the tension and original intention. The only real shame is that this is the only collection of Rampo's works that has been translated into English. After reading this you will long for more.

Richard Brautigan also memorialized this celebrated story, or one filmic adaptation of it, in a poem within his last poetry collection, June 30th, June 30th. Here it is...

THE RED CHAIR

I saw a decadent gothic Japanese movie
this evening. It went so far beyond any
decadence that I have ever seen before
that I was transformed into a child learning
       for the first time
     that shadows are not always friendly,
     that houses are haunted,
     that people sometimes have thoughts
     made out of snake skin that crawl
     toward the innocence of sleeping babies.

The movie took place in Tokyo
just before the earthquake on September 1, 1923.
In a gothic Japanese house a man was hiding
inside a large stuffed red chair while a beautiful
woman wearing exotic costumes made love
to other men sitting in the chair.
The men did not know that somebody was hiding
   inside the chair,
feeling, voyeuring every detail of their passion.
It took a long time in the movie
before I realized that there was a man inside the chair.

The film went on and on into decadence
after decadence like a rainbow of perversion.
I can't describe them all.
You would have trouble believing them.

The red chair was only a beginning.

I sat there transfixed
with a hundred Japanese men.
It was as if we were the orgasm
of spiders fucking in dried human
   blood.

       Tokyo
       June 15, 1976


I have a first edition of this last Brautigan book, which I bought as a kid. I guess I was eleven. I can still visualize exactly where I found this book on the shelf in the bookstore which no longer exists.

Funnily enough, the space where the bookstore existed (and my grandfather once worked there before I was born as a part-time job in his retirment) is now a karate studio for children! When you park to go in Penney's, you can see the little kids through all the plate glass practicing their moves! Brautigan would probably like that. The ghost of his book taking kicks from a four year old dressed as a Japanese warrior.

It's a very good collection of poetry, but you can see the psychic disintegration beginning in this book...in subtle ways. Not that Brautigan wasn't always somewhat self-isolating (standing on street corners and promoting his poetry notwithstanding).

His commercial success had unfortunately allowed him the means to pursue this to an even more pathological degree probably.

The poems truly engage Japan and Japanese art, but in that childlike Brautigan way.

I wouldn't call it a great collection of poems, but I would call it a very good one, and a very good read.

And to complete the Jungian frogging/phrogging synchronicity, Richard wraps a weave of 1976 time around my blog entry with this poem...

JAPAN MINUS FROGS

     For Guy de la Valdene

Looking casually
through my English-Japanese dictionary
I can't find the word frog.
   It's not there.
Does that mean Japan has no frogs?


       Tokyo
       June 4, 1976