29 August 2025

Four of My Father's Books



Thinking of my father today, the hundredth anniversary of his birth. He died far too young, and I have so very few memories. I did inherit some of his books, most featuring his signature, always written in fountain pen.

I've also inherited his passion for this country and its literature.

Oh, and dogs. Love our dogs.

Maurice John "Jack" Busby
29 August 1925, Calgary, Alberta -
29 October 1967, Montreal, Quebec

RIP

Related post:
Remembrance Day

27 August 2025

A Japanese Nightingale on Stage and Screen



On 19 November 1903, A Japanese Nightingale, dramatist William Young's stage adaptation of the Otono Watanna novel of the same name opened at Broadway's Daly's Theatre. Critics were indifferent. A Japanese Nightingale managed only forty-six performances before closing on 30 December.

The New York Times, 20 November 1903

Of those I've read, the New York Times review is both the most unreliable and the most informative. The unreliable being limited to this paragraph:

To those who read the story there was something appealing in the simple, childish sweetness of the little maid Yuki, who, betrothed to a powerful man of her own people, weds instead the youthful and impetuous wooer from over the seas. In the dramatic version something of this same quality is reserved to the character of Yuki, and her love affair, Yuki's subsequent suffering, and her determination to leave the world and become a priestess in the temple that the man she loved may be spared suffering and persecution from her enemies and his, is likely to make an appeal to unsophisticated and sympathetic playgoers.
By "story," the unnamed reviewer refers to the novel on which the play is based. In that story, Yuki is betrothed to no one, never mind "a powerful man of her own people."

Illinois native Margaret Illington (née Young), who portrayed Yuki. 
The anonymous pen continues:
William Young, who made the adaptation for stage purposes, has used a familiar bag of tricks. The expedients utilized for stage climaxes are of the most ordinary and commonplace kind. One has at least the right to expect some ingenuity in matters of this sort, and here the dramatizer has failed signally.
   For example. The ultimate conflict in this play is due to the fact that Jack Bigelow, a young American, has married Yuki, the Japanese Nightingale. A record of the marriage has been filed with the United States Consul at Tokio. Bigelow's enemies kill the Consul and steal the book containing the record of the marriage. At the very time that Bigelow hears of the murder of the Consul he gives Yuki their marriage license, telling her never to part with it. Immediately thereafter she places it in a little box, the arch conspirator enters, she shows it to him, and he purloins it. When, a little later, Yuki's brother appears on the scene and refuses to believe that Bigelow has married the girl regularly, the box is opened for the proof that is to convince him. Lo! the paper is gone. Tableau and mutterings of vengeance.
   And so it goes throughout. Mr. Harker of California, who, with the assistance of Mr. Bobby Newcome, Ensign, U.S.A., eventually sets everything right, shows his daughter a revolver. She takes it from him and puts it in the drawer of a table. Later Mr. Harker tells the villain that he is going to detain him for a little confidential chat, and the pair sit down on opposite sides of the table. The Jap draws a knife and Harker whips out the gun and covers him. Another tableau that flashes in the pan.
Assuming the Times review is accurate, Young introduced several elements to A Japanese Nightingale, including:
  • a record of marriage;
  • a United States Consul;
  • a murder;
  • a marriage license;
  • a theft;
  • a man named Harker;
  • a United States ensign named Newcome;
  • a daughter of a United States ensign named Newcome;
  • a knife;
  • a gun.
Given early Hollywood's eagerness to adapt popular novels, it's surprising that A Japanese Nightingale did not appear on screens until 1918, seventeen years after publication.


"Written by William Long from the book by Onoto Watanna" – so sayss the poster – it was the work Ouida Bergère and Jules Furthman. The latter is known for Shanghai Express (1932), Blonde Venus (1932), Mutiny on the Bounty (1935), Only Angels Have Wings (1939), To Have and Have Not (1944), The Big Sleep (1946), Nightmare Alley (1947), and Rio Bravo (1959), while the former is remembered for, well, her forty-one year marriage to Basil Rathbone.

Reviews suggest that Bergère and Furthman relied on Long's play, then added something in introducing a new character, Baron Nekko, as Yuki's fiancé. 

The Winnipeg Tribune, 28 December 1918
This time out Yuki, not yet twenty in the novel, was portrayed by 47-year-old Fannie Ward of St Louis, Missouri, an actress renowned for her youthful appearance and ability to portray women decades her junior. Brooklyn boy W.E. Lawrence, age 22, played Jack Bigelow, Yuki's husband.


Happily, A Japanese Nightingale is one of the small percentage of silents that has survived. Unhappily, it has never been made available in Beta, VHS or DVD, nor is it streaming. And so, I rely again on reviews to provide a synopsis. The best I've found was published in the 30 August 1918 edition of Variety:
Yuki is a little Japanese girl of good family whom a heartless stepmother wishes to marry to a vicious old man of wealth and position. So Yuki runs away and becomes a Geisha girl and here meets a young American who falls in love with her. When an agent of the would-be bridegroom seeks to spirit Yuki away the American whose name is John Bigelow, takes things into his own hands and marries her. Thenthere are plots and counterplots. The consul, who has charge of the marriage records, is murdered and the records disappear, worthless papers being substituted. And at this time Yuki’s brother, who turns out to have been a friend of Bigelow’s at an American university, returns home and is made to believe that his erstwhile friend has wronged the girl. To save her husband from her brother’s vengeance Yuki flies to a temple, where she prepares to marry the old man of her mother’s choice. But the wedding records turn in the nick of time, and the brother is reconciled to the marriage.
The critic goes on to add: "Miss Ward, while she does not make up to look like a Japanese girl, is of a beauty sufficiently delicate and flowerlike to fit appropriately into the miniature gardens and cherry groves through which she wanders."


The December 1918 edition of Picture-Play Magazine, from which  the last two images are drawn, features an eight-page short story by American Fannie Kilbourne (1890-1961) that is "written from the Pathé picture play based on the story by Onoto Watanna." Available here courtesy of the Internet Archive and the Library of Congress, it may just provide the most accurate description of what we've been missing.


As always, I recommend the novel.

A Bonus:

The New York Times, 23 November 1903.

21 August 2025

A 'Japanese' Nightingale: Winnifred Eaton at 150



A Japanese Nightingale
Onoto Watanna [Winnifred Eaton]
New York: Harper, 1901
226 pages

Onoto Watanna was her own creation. She was not a Japanese princess; she was not Japanese at all. Onoto Watanna was Winnifred Eaton, a Montrealer born to a former Chinese circus performer and an Englishman who struggled to support his family through painting and people smuggling.

Winnifred made a better life for herself. She sold her first short story as a teenager. Dozens more followed, as did thirteen novels. There were stage and film adaptations. Winnifred spent six years working as a scriptwriter in Hollywood.

A Japanese Nightingale was Winnifred Eaton's second novel and first big commercial success. She claimed it had sold 200,000 copies.

I don't doubt it.

The novel landed at the height of the Japanese Craze; the very same craze that encouraged Winnifred Eaton to cast herself variously as "Kitishima Taka Hasche," "Kitishina Taka Hasche," or "Tacki Hashi,"a young woman from Yokohama writing under the nom de plume "Onoto Watanna."

It's all a bit confusing. 

A Japanese Nightingale itself is not at all confusing. A simple tale, at its centre is Jack Bigelow, son of American wealth, newly graduated from an unnamed university, who is whiling away his time on the outskirts of Tokyo. What drew him to the far east isn't clear, though it likely has something to do with his English-Japanese college chum Taro Burton. Looks like they were going to have a time together in Tokyo, but then Taro begged off. That Jack went off without him seems odd.

Never mind, the important thing is that Taro had warned him not to take a Japanese wife:
Taro Burton was almost a monomaniac on this subject, and denounced both the foreigners who took to themselves and deserted Japanese wives, and the native Japanese, who made such a practice possible. He himself was a half-caste, being the product of a marriage between an Englishman and a Japanese woman. In this case, however, the husband had proved faithful to his wife and children up to death...
From his earliest days in Tokyo, Jack had been visited by Ido, a nakōdo (read: matchmaker), who'd brought prospective wives for consideration. The wealthy American had found the efforts entertaining. One afternoon, Ido offers a young woman whom Jack had recently seen perform on a pleasure island in Tokyo Bay. 


Jack toys with Yuki cruelly before sending her away, just as he had Ido's other proposed brides. However, the heart will out. The American is haunted by the encounter. He starts on a quest to find the woman he'd rejected. Once found, he marries her.

Because the plot is so simple – twist included  it would spoil things to describe much more. It is important to the plot that, like Eaton herself, Yuki is "half-caste" – much is made of her blue eyes – and so is looked down upon by her fellow Japanese. More impactful to the plot is the clash of cultures, particularly as it concerns Oriental and Occidental understandings of marriage (here I employ the terms of the time). Reading in 2025, one hundred and fourteen years after publication I found interest in the married couple's reluctance to be open and share with one another.

In this one way, A Japanese Nightingale is a contemporary novel.


I finished 
A Japanese Nightingale last night. Today marks the sesquicentennial Winnifred Eaton's birth, which most likely took place in the family's rented row house on rue d'Iberville.

Once a bestseller, she has become Montreal's most neglected novelist.

Lillie Winnifred Eaton (née Winifred Lily Eaton)
21 August 1875 - 8 April 1954
RIP
Trivia: Adapted by Broadway and Hollywood, both subjects of the next post.

Object:
A beautiful hardcover, issued without dust jacket with illustrations credited to Genjiro Yeto. The books features three colour plates and subtle illustrations on each of its pages. It is one of the most beautiful volumes in my collection.


Access: Easily found, the least expensive copy listed online is Constable's UK first. Price: £8.00. The Harper first edition can be had for under twenty-five dollars. 

The edition I read can be enjoyed online through this link to the Internet Archive.


The novel has been translated into Swedish (En japansk näktergal, 1904). German (Japanische Nachtigall, 1920), and Polish (Słowiczek japoński, 1922).


18 August 2025

A Pulp Writer's Challenge to Canadians



Original Detective Stories
Volume 1, Number 1
April 1948

Can a magazine written entirely by one person be considered a book? Of course not, but it does come close. Original Detective Stories was published Voyageur Press, which was owned and operated by author Horace Brown. As far as I've been able to determine, he was the only staff member and only writer. The debut issue features two works of fiction – both by Brown, of course – the first being 'Murder à la Carte.' A "BOOK LENGTH NOVEL – NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED," I first wrote about 'Murder à la Carte' fourteen years ago, wondering whether it may have found a second life as the 1950 News Stand Library novel The Penthouse Killings.

After finally managing to find a copy of the magazineI can now report that 'Murder à la Carte' and The Penthouse Killings are in fact one and the same.

It wasn't so wild a guess; the covers suggested as much.


I have no idea who provided the cover illustration for The Penthouse Killings, though the style reminds me of several other News Stand Library titles. The Original Detective Stories cover is credited to Jackson Heise, a man who began his career as a child. The 1931 census finds him living at 281 Milverton Boulevard in Toronto with his mother and father. Seventeen at the time, Heise had already left school and seems to have been making decent money through his art, earning $520 in the previous twelve months:*


Original Detective Stories features four more illustrations, masthead included.


The contents page is interesting in that it ignores 'On the Blotter,' the very first piece in this very first issue. A four-paragraph, half-page editorial credited to "The Sergeant," whom I have every reason to believe is Brown himself, it begins:
The bane of a policeman's unhappy lot is the one world "Unsolved."
   The aftermath of War, the spiritual and moral letdown that follows brutal conflict has unleashed murder throughout Canada. Many of these cases are sex crimes of the most atrocious sort. 
In fact, the homicide rate decreased in the years immediately following the Second World War.


'On the Blotter' calls for more police funding and "a tightening of the Law in the matter of of detaining known perverts until cure."

Lest you think you have Brown pegged, as a Toronto alderman he became a staunch defender of hippies and a promoter of tenants rights. We have Brown to thank for helping raise money for the Henry Moore sculpture in Nathan Philips Square after the city council had voted it down.


Horace Brown also founded of the Canadian March of Dimes (now March of Dimes Canada). He himself was stricken with polio at the age of eight months and walked with the aid of crutches. The disease influences 'The Scarf' the second of the magazine's two stories, written under the nom de plume "Leslie Allen."** 


The issue has no ads. Its back cover is taken up with a challenge and appeal: 


Canadian readers and advertisers did not respond. Were the magazines themselves to blame or the distributors and retailers? Frankly, I think the fault lies with Brown himself. The venture was unstable from the start. Original Detective Stories' second issue was the last. It appeared in July 1948, three months after the first. 


Brown's magazine empire had one other title in its fold. Like Original Detective Stories, All Star Western Stories debuted in April 1948, published a second issue in July 1948, and then disappeared.
   

Brown believed that Canadians would rally to the support of Canadian publications and publishing.

He wasn't wrong.

We saw this through much of the second half of the last century and into the early years of this one. I worked for a library wholesaler and major chain for the last fifteen of those years and remember well the number of Canadian titles on the weekly Globe & Mail bestseller lists. 

The newspaper's most recent hardcover fiction list features not one Canadian title. The non-fiction hardcover list has just one, Omar El Akkad's One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This. Not one title is published by a Canadian publisher.

A question for Canadians: We're boycotting American produce, booze, and travel, so why are we not boycotting American cultural product? 
* Sadly, Jackson's father, a piano salesman, was not working. All evidence suggests that the boy was the family's sole breadwinner. According to the Bank of Canada Inflation Calculator, $520 in 1931 is roughly the equivalent of $10,425 today, which may explain why the Heise family was sharing the small duplex with young marrieds Timothy and Elma Breuls and the bride's mother. 
** Brown had previously used "Leslie Allen" for his 1946 golfing mystery Murder in the Rough.  
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