Wordwork|play

Anti-Arab Bias in Dictionary Definitions

Though not much has happened on Wordwork|play for a few months, it has not been abandoned. It has merely been left to lie fallow for a while. I have continued to read, watch, think, and yes, cook, but I haven't done much writing. There is still more change afoot at my day job, and I'm moving to Hamilton at the end of June, but the change is now more measured and controlled. I think I'm almost ready to resume more regular writing here.

As for watching and thinking, my partner and I watched the 1997 biopic Wilde recently, a fascinating and ultimately frustrating biographical story in which two terms, used quite casually, got me thinking again about anti-Arab bias in dictionary definitions. On a few occasions, the dialogue contained the terms arab and street arab, terms with which neither of us were familiar, though negative connotations were clear.

A few days later, indeed within the same week, I came across this article from the Jordan Times about Merriam-Webster's decision to drop entries considered offensive to Arabs and Muslims. The terms at the center of the protest to Merriam-Webster, by Zarka University president Ishak Ahmad Farhan and the Professional Associations Council president Wael Saqqa, were anti-Semitism and arab. They would like to see the entries for these terms changed and/or dropped from the next edition.

While I would never suggest the dropping of entries from a dictionary or thesaurus, and indeed find it of the utmost importance that they be retained, I do believe that, as with other offensive and racist terms, the entries need to be clear about the fact that they are offensive and reference the context out of which they arose. Leaving them as they are serves not only to perpetuate negative racial stereotypes, but leads the reader to believe that these negative images are still held by the editors and publishers.   

So I did some investigating. My 2003, 2nd Edition Oxford Dictionary of English does not list the lowercase arab on its own, but does list street Arab as "noun archaic a raggedly dressed homeless child wandering the streets." The online Webster Dictionary lists Arab as "n. 1. One of a swarthy race occupying Arabia, and numerous in Syria, Northern Africa, etc.," and as a subcategory, "Street Arab a homeless vagabond in the streets of a city, particularly and (sic) outcast boy or girl." YourDictionary has, as definition 5 under Arab, "a waif left to roam the streets; street Arab." It lists street Arab separately as well. In my cursory search, only the Free Dictionary mentioned, in its definition, that it was 'sometimes offensive'.

The definition of anti-Semitism is another example. Semite is defined, in the Oxford Dictionary, as "noun a member of any of the peoples who speak or spoke a Semitic language, including in particular the Jews and Arabs." It is followed by an etymological reference to "Sem 'Shem', son of Noah in the Bible, from whom these people were traditionally supposed to be descended." Semitic is defined as "adjective 1 relating to or denoting a family of languages that includes Hebrew, Arabic, and Aramaic and certain ancient languages such as Phoenician and Akkadian, constituting the main subgroup of the Afro-Asiatic family. 2 relating to the peoples who speak these languages, especially Hebrew and Arabic."

The prefix anti-, as most of us know, stands for against, or opposed to. But put it in front of Semitic and it doesn't simply mean opposed to or against Semites. As pointed out in the aforementioned article, Webster's Third New International Dictionary, Unabridged, defines anti-Semitism as: “opposition to Zionism: sympathy with opponents of the state of Israel.” What of the anti-Arab sentiment in which a great deal of the Western media and Hollywood blockbusters are soaked? Is this almost fashionable opposition to Arabs and Muslims, a people clearly defined as Semitic, not then anti-Semitism? It clearly is. But not according to our dictionaries.

I checked the definitions for a number of other offensive and racist terms -- Chink, gook, Jap, Kraut, nigger, and wop -- in my Oxford English dictionary and found all of them prefaced with 'informal, offensive' or some such acknowledgment. I think it's time the editors and publishers of modern English dictionaries did the same for terms offensive to Arabs. Leave the terms and definitions in the dictionaries, but at the very least be clear about the fact that they are offensive. And why not include a little historical context? Check arab and anti-Semitism at the Online Etymological Dictionary. There we find that the offensive definition of arab has to do with a settled people's bias against nomadic peoples. As for anti-Semitism, it is acknowledged that, though most commonly used to mean anti-Jewish, the term is not restricted to such use. It even suggests that "[t]hose who object to the inaccuracy of the term might try H. Adler's Judaeophobia (1882)." Why not use anti-Semitism as a general term for 'theories, actions, or policies' that are against Semites in general, and use more restrictive terms with reference to a specific Semitic people, i.e. Judaeophobia, Islamophobia, anti-Jewish, anti-Arab, anti-Assyrian, and so on?

Anne Michael's Fugitive Pieces Now on Film at the Toronto Film Festival: I'm So Excited!

On my way to work this morning, listening to Metro Morning on the CBC, I heard Andy Barrie in a very brief interview with poet and novelist Anne Michaels. Her first--I think so far only-- novel, Fugitive Pieces,
has been made into a movie. It will open tonight at the Toronto Film Festival.

Fugitive Pieces is the most beautifully written novel I have ever read. Deirdre Swain, reviewing the film in NOW Magazine, not unlike some of my classmates some years back at McMaster University, finds the novel 'dense but gorgeous'. According to her, the movie retains the beauty while cutting out some of the bulk. Anne Michaels is, above all, a poet. Her novel reflects that. It contains the most beautiful, most poetic prose I have ever encountered in a novel. Rushdie's writing comes close, but is often more surreal. Ondaatje's also comes close, though it has a more classical tone.

I am so excited! I wish I could make it to the opening night, but alas I cannot. I will have to wait a bit. I really do hope the movie does the story justice. So often a really good book ends up a mediocre film. Anne
Michaels, on that interview this morning, sounded positive about it. If she's positive, it being her baby, I think we can relax a bit. And then of course there are reviewers...

Here's the review on NOW.

On Writing, and "Running with Scissors"

Sometime today, I'm not sure exactly when, I realized that the statement at the end of my previous post, the part about you, the reader, holding me accountable to write something every day was a little silly. No, I am not merely backtracking, wimping out, hiding in a corner. I say it's silly because you cannot possibly know whether or not I write every day. You must take my word for it. Or not. I may well be dissembling. And just because I may miss a post here and there doesn't mean I did not write anything at all. After all, not all crap deserves an audience. Some crap perhaps, but certainly not all.

Speaking of crap, I saw an interesting movie tonight, having seen a trailer for it recently, but not really knowing what it was about, nor that it was based on Augusten Burrough's memoir, "Running with Scissors." I'm not saying "Running with Scissors" was crap. Not at all. It was at times funny, most of the time dark and sad, at times enraging, and even a little inspiring. It's just that the word crap served as a useful segue into the rest of this post, away from my silly little admission about my previous post. (May my crap point boldly upwards.) If you've seen the movie you may understand the crap segue.

While I don't know to what extent the story is fictionalized memoir versus creative non-fiction, the truly fucked up family situation reminded me of a little poem by English poet, Philip Larkin, with the grandiose but tongue-in-cheek title, "This Be The Verse."

They fuck you up, your mum and dad
They may not mean to, but they do
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

Brilliant! The frankness of the poem, as also the language used, especially for someone of Larkin's generation, astonished then amazed me. Of course--here's the rub--if we all followed his advice, we'd go extinct. Not a bad thing, perhaps, for the planet and the many beings with whom, or which, we cohabit. I digress.

Putting grand thoughts on the human experiment aside, I shall return to the subject of writing. I know I love writing and, at least in the academic realm, I demonstrated significant facility with the written word. Professors, if you will allow me toot my own horn a little, seemed quite pleased, dare I say impressed, with my writing. If any former instructor of mine, from McMaster University or the University of Toronto, should happen to read my humble blog, please do leave a comment.

I would love to quit my day job (may my employer and coworkers have mercy upon me) and write full time. But as much as I love writing, it sometimes scares the crap out of me. I mean writing for a living scares the crap out of me. But who knows, perhaps someone or something will come along to help me screw my courage to the sticking-place (thanks, Willie!) and give it a shot.

How to Become a Writer: Lessons from Garp

This past weekend my partner and I had rented The World According to Garp, a movie based on John Irving's novel by the same name, starring Robin Williams, Glenn Close and John Lithgow. Just seeing Robin Williams and John Lithgow in a film together makes one expect laughter aplenty, but both, despite their comedic accomplishments, are strong enough actors to play serious roles. This movie is an interesting blend of serious and light subject matter.

One thing I found quite funny--though I wish it were that easy--was the way Garp becomes a writer. Here's how: leave whatever you are currently doing and begin writing so you can impress the girl who wants to marry a writer; move to New York City to pursue writing full time, because that's where you live if you want to be a writer; get published by mommy's publisher--she also decides on a whim to move to NYC to become a writer; go back to marry the girl who wanted to marry a writer because you now are a writer; buy a nice big home together and have a family. Of course much else happens, but the trajectory was funny, because simplistic.

I guess the Canadian equivalent would be for me to leave my office job in Guelph and move to Toronto. Of course I already have the girl, and she, though supportive of my writing, hasn't stipulated that her partner need be a writer. O, I'd be in T.O. in a blink if I knew it would be that easy! I just love that city!