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In Celebration of Jane |
but wound up a jungle housewife
By
AUDREY YEAGER
of TheColumnists.com
Perhaps you don’t know much about Tarzan’s Jane. I can understand that because she's seldom been up front and center in the Tarzan stories. Permit me to fill you in on a few particulars.
She
was one-in-a-million--and a good thing, too. It’s horrible
to contemplate more than one of her kind being tossed from pillar
to elephant in such rustic surroundings. Jane was a real lady.
She exuded refinement from every dirty little toe. Gentleness
and charm mingled within her snarled and matted curls; definitely
a lady, "To the manor born."
Alas, poor Jane became lost in a remote area of the African jungle.
It isn’t clear to us now, just how she got there. There
is some fuzzy recollection of her having been on safari with
her father. It’s possible she wandered off in search of
a ladies room and shockingly found herself stuck amongst the
briars and the prickles, unable to expedite her delicate self
without unthinkable embarrassment. And so, there she remained
until….
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Enter Tarzan, the King of the Jungle, a man not clear-headed about finding his OWN way back to civilization by most accounts. He, himself, had been lost since childhood and didn’t know it. The big fellow also believed he was a family member of the Great Hairy Ones, the apes. This delusion persisted in spite of seeing his quite human face mirrored in every mudhole south of Egypt. What can we say except it wasn’t his eyesight that made him famous; it was Edgar Rice Burroughs.
At any rate, Jane was found. Whether by Tarzan or his constant companion, the chimp, Cheetah, is anybody’s guess. But our money would be on the monkey. His human friend couldn’t seem to find an erupting volcano without assistance. He truly wasn’t the cleverest individual who ever trod the jungle paths.
Edgar Rice Burroughs never imagined much of a life for Jane. At least, we don’t think he did. His attention was all on Tarzan and those apes--and for females that can get a little boring. Someone else thought so, too, apparently, for some "romantic" came along and brought Jane a little more into the picture–moving pictures, that is. It certainly made it more interesting for the ladies in the audience. Here was a beautiful, cultured woman destined to spend the rest of her life with a man who was anything but chatty, and had spent a goodly part of his early days walking on his knuckles. They served tissue at the box office.
So Jane and the King formed an alliance. They were a couple, if you know what I mean. As Tarzan so aptly put it, "Me Tarzan. You Jane. And there ain’t nobody else around."
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Later, the two swingers–just from vines, of course–had a child. They named him, not Egbert, or Thomas, or Fairchild, but, BOY. What could be simpler? And no need to wonder if the name would suit him. The only snag might be if other children were born of the union. A girl would be okay, for then they would have BOY and GIRL. But, what if another boy came along? Well, the dilemma is beyond us.
Jane learned to do many things alien to her gentle upbringing. One such talent was suppressing screams that made her tonsils vibrate, while being mauled by a playful lion. Another was grinning and grinding her teeth down a quarter-of-an-inch when picked up by an ape--and we are not referring to her mate.
Through thick and thin, flooding rivers, unfriendly natives, an unruly kid, and the limited vocabulary of her spouse, the lady learned to enjoy her treehouse home. It is said we can get used to anything.
Jane contended with the animals' peculiar persistence in their attempts to carry her off, the occasional native uprisings, which found her bound to many a post while the cannibals' pot was set on "well done" and eventually mastered the art of cooking.
Tarzan knew a good thing when he saw it. A banana and a chaw of bark may be all right for a bachelor, but something in his genes shouted, "You Jane. You COOK!
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Our jungle family’s VERY favorite recipes have not been included in this column. We thought them a bit, "gamey" for civilized appetites. (Oh, Dear Jane, how far you have fallen.) However, in the interests of gourmet curiosity, we WILL relate the names of Jane's favorite recipes. Near the top of the list is Anthill Ambrosia. Jane recommends the wearing of boots for the gathering of ingredients. Gloves wouldn’t hurt either.
Tarzan claims everyone will love, Alligator Supreme, but warns that it is for the more advanced cook. One who can wrestle and WIN. His actual words were, "Go slow. Carry big stick."
Jane's cookie recipe, which she called "Boy’s Choice Crocodile Piles," doesn't sound very appetizing. You may guess what Boy thought these cookies were the first time his mother handed him one of the unusual hummers. It plainly revealed he had inherited some of his father’s traits when he accepted it without an argument.
Perhaps you think we have been unnecessarily nasty in withholding information about Jane’s cooking utensils. That’s because they ARE particularly nasty. A blackened pot, a filthy stick, and a few crummy hot rocks. We simply don’t want to discuss it.
Jane had some good old standby dishes like Pigs in a Loin Cloth and Chicken A La King of the Jungle, but her greatest recipe, the piece de resistance, if you will, our insurance underwriter will not allow us to share with you, at least not in its entirety. But here is a hint: Your-Guess-is-as-Good-as-Mine Hors d’oeuvres is only a matter of walking the banks of the river–any river will do–and grabbing up everything that moves. You will have to figure out the measurements for yourself. Our kitchen testers refer to them as "canapés with crunch."
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Seriously, I grew up with Tarzan, spending part of every Saturday afternoon getting lost in the movie screen and pretending I was right in there with Johnny Weissmuller, Maureen O’Sullivan and Johnny Sheffield. I would have gladly eaten beetles dipped in fish oil for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and merrily stated like the fake Tarzan on the TV commercial, "I can’t believe it’s not butter."
But when I grew a little older, I think I was glad I didn't have to help Jane wash the dishes, take the garbage out or do any of her other unappreciated chores around the Tarzan estate.
© 2000 by Audrey Yeager. The cartoons are from IMSI's Master/Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. East, San Rafael, CA 94901-5506, USA.
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