‘With this international instrument,’ M. Jules Sauerstoff declared in Le Temps, ‘the future of the Newts and the peaceful development of mankind are assured for many decades to come. We congratulate the London conference on the successful conclusion of its difficult consultations; we also congratulate the Newts on having been placed, with the statute adopted, under the protection of the International Court at the Hague; they can now calmly and confidently devote themselves to their work and their submarine progress. Let us emphasise again that the depoliticisation of the Newt Problem, as achieved at the London conference, is one of the most important guarantees of world peace. In particular, the disarmament of the salamanders diminishes the likelihood of submarine clashes between individual states. It is a fact that - even though numerous frontier and power disputes continue on nearly every continent - world peace is not actually threatened, at least from the maritime side. But even on dry land peace would now seem to be more solidly safeguarded than ever before: the maritime states are fully engaged in constructing new coastlines and are able to extend their territories into the world ocean instead of attempting to rectify their land frontiers. No longer will it be necessary to fight with iron and gas for every inch of ground: the Newts’ simple pickaxes and spades will enable every state to build as much territory as it needs. And it is this peaceful Newt work for the peace and prosperity of all nations that the London conference has guaranteed. Never before has the world been closer to perpetual peace and to tranquil though glorious flowering than at this moment. Instead of the Newt Problem, of which we have heard and read so much, we shall, and rightly, speak of the Golden Newt Age.’
1 Cf. G. Kreuzmann, Geschichte der Molche; Hans Tietze, Der Molch des XX. Jahrhunderts; Kurt Wolff, Der Molch und das deutsche Volk; Sir Herbert Owen, The Salamanders and the British Empire; Giovanni Focaja, L’evoluzione degli anfibi durante il Fascismo; Leon Bonnet, Les Urodeles et la Societe des Nations; S. Madariaga, Las Salamandras y la Civilizacion, and many others.
2 Cf. War with the Newts, Book 1, Chapter 12.
3 This is proved by the very first cutting in Mr Povondra’s collection:
NEWT MARKET REPORT
(CTK) According to the latest report issued by the Salamander Syndicate at the end of the last quarter, sales of Newts have increased by 30 per cent. Over the past three months deliveries of Newts totalled nearly 70 million, chiefly to South and Central America, Indochina and Italian Somaliland. Projects scheduled for the near future include the deepening and widening of the Panama Canal, the dredging of the harbour of Guayaquil and the removal of all shoals and sandbars in the Torres Straits. These works alone, according to approximate estimates, involve the removal of 9 billion cubic metres of solid soil. Construction of solid aircraft islands on the Madeira-Bermuda route is expected to commence next spring. In-fill work in the Mariana islands under Japanese Mandate continues; so far 840,000 acres of new, so-called light, dry land has been won between the islands of Tinian and Saipan. In view of growing demand Newt prices are very firm: Leading 61, Team 620. Supplies are adequate.
4 Such obstacles are illustrated, for instance, by this report, cut from a newspaper without indication of date:
BRITAIN CLOSING THE DOOR TO NEWTS?
(Reuter) In reply to a Commons question by Mr J. Leeds MP, Sir Samuel Mandeville today stated that HM Government had closed the Suez Canal to all Newt transports; the Government did not intend to permit a single Newt to be employed on the coast or in the territorial waters of the British Isles. The reasons for these measures, Sir Samuel explained, were, on the one hand, the security of the British shores and, on the other, the continued validity of ancient laws and treaties on the abolition of the slave trade.
In reply to a question by Mr B. Russell MP, Sir Samuel stated that this practice did not of course apply to British Dominions or Colonies.
5 The weapon used for this purpose almost universally was a pistol invented by the engineer Mirko Safranek and manufactured by the Brno Armaments Works.
6 Cf. this newspaper story:
STRIKE MOVEMENT IN AUSTRALIA
(Havas) Australian trade union leader Harry MacNamara has called for a general strike of all dockside, transport, power station and other workers. The unions demand that imports of working Newts to Australia be subject to strict quotas in accordance with immigration legislation. Australian farmers, on the other hand, are seeking a liberalisation of Newt imports since this would greatly stimulate sales of domestic maize and animal fats, especially mutton fat. The Government is trying to achieve a compromise; the Salamander Syndicate is offering to pay the trade unions six shillings as a contribution for every Newt imported. The Government is prepared to guarantee that the Newts will only be employed under water and that (for reasons of public morality) they will not surface beyond 16 inches, i.e. up to the chest. However, the trade unions insist on a 5-inch limit and demand a payment of 10 shillings per Newt, plus union membership due. It is thought that agreement will be reached with the aid of the Federal Exchequer.
7 Cf. the following remarkable document in Mr Povondra’s collection:
THIRTY-SIX DROWNING PASSENGERS SAVED BY NEWTS
(From our special correspondent) Madras, 3 April. In the harbour here the steamship Indian Star collided with a ferryboat which was carrying about forty natives. The ferryboat sank instantly. Even before a police launch was able to set out for the spot some Newts employed on silt removal in the harbour hurried to the aid of the drowning and carried thirty-six of them to the bank. One salamander alone dragged three women and two children out of the water. In recognition of this gallant action the Newts have received a written expression of thanks in a waterproof case from the local authorities.
The native population, on the other hand, is most indignant that the Newts should have been allowed to touch drowning persons of higher caste, as they regard the Newts as unclean and untouchable. A crowd of a few thousand natives collected at the harbour, demanding the expulsion of the Newts. The police has the situation under control: only three persons have been killed and one hundred and twenty arrested. By 10 pm peace was restored. The salamanders are continuing their work.
8 Cf. the following highly interesting cutting, unfortunately in an unknown language and therefore untranslatable:
Saht na kchi te Salaam Ander bwtat
Saht gwan t’lap ne Salaam Ander bwtati og t’cheni bechri ne Simbwana m’bengwe ogandi sumkh na moimoi opwana Salaam Ander sri m’oana gwen’s. Og di bwtat na Salaam Ander kchri p’we ogandi p’we o’gwandi te ur maswali sukh? Na, ne ur lingo t’lslami kcher oganda Salaam Andrias sahti. Bend op’tonga kchri Simbwana medh, salaam!
9 A typical illustration is provided by an opinion poll organised by the Daily Star on the subject: DO NEWTS HAVE SOULS? We quote here the answers (without warranty of their authenticity) received from some prominent personalities:
Dear Sir,
My friend, the Rev. H. B. Bertram, and I spent some time observing salamanders building a dam at Aden; two or three times we actually talked to them but did not discover any indication whatever of higher sentiments such as Honour, Faith, Patriotism, or a spirit of Fair Play. And what else, I ask you, sir, can with any justification be called soul?
Yours truly,
John W. Britton (Colonel)
I have never seen a Newt, but I am convinced that creatures which have no music do not have a soul either.
Toscanini
Let’s leave the question of a soul aside; but from what I can discover about Andrias I’d say that they have no individuality; they seem to be all alike, equally hard-working, equally capable - and equally nondescript. In short: they fulfil a particular ideal of modern civilisation, i.e. the Average.
Andre d’Artois
They certainly have no soul. In this they resemble man.
Yours G. B. Shaw
Your question embarrasses me. I know, for instance, that my little Chinese dog Bibi has a delightful little soul, so has my little Persian cat Sidi
Hanum, and what a fine and cruel soul it is! But Newts? Oh yes, they are most talented and intelligent, poor little things; they can talk, do sums and be terribly useful; but they are so ugly!
Yours Madeleine Roche
Who cares if they are Newts. So long as they’re not Marxists.
Kurt Huber
They have no sex appeal. So they can’t have a soul.
Mae West
They have a soul, just as every creature and every plant has a soul, and everything that lives. Great is the mystery of all life.
Sandrabharata Nath
They have an interesting technique and style of swimming; there is a lot we can learn from them, especially in long-distance swimming.
Tony Weissmiiller
10 For details see the book: Mme Louise Zimmermann, sa vie, ses idees, son oeuvre (Alcan). We quote from it the reminiscences of a devoted Newt who was one of her first pupils:
She would recite to us Lafontaine’s fables, sitting by our simple but clean and comfortable tank; although she suffered from the damp she disregarded her own discomfort: so dedicated was she to her educational task. She used to call us ‘mes petits Chinois’ because, like the Chinese, we were unable to pronounce the consonant r. After a while, however, she got so used to it that she herself pronounced her name Mme Zimmelmann. We tadpoles adored her: the little ones who had not yet properly developed lungs and therefore could not leave the water would cry that they could not accompany her on her strolls through the school garden. She was so gentle and kind and, as far as I know, she got angry only once; that was when our young female teacher of history on a hot summer day put on her swimsuit and got into the water tank with us, to lecture us on the Low Countries’ wars of independence, sitting up to her neck in the water. On that occasion our dear Mme Zimmelmann got really angry: ‘Go and have a bath at once, Mademoiselle, at once, at once,’ she exclaimed with tears in her eyes. To us this was a delicate but readily understood lesson that, when all was said and done, we were not the same as humans; later we were grateful to our spiritual mother for having inculcated in us this realisation in such a firm yet tactful manner.
When we did well she would reward us by reading to us some modern poetry, like Francois Coppe. ‘Yes, it is a little too modern,’ she would say, ‘but even that is now part of a good education.’ At the end of the academic year we had a public Speech Day, to which Monsieur le Prefect was invited from Nice, as well as other prominent figures. Advanced and gifted students who already had lungs were dried by the school beadle and dressed in a kind of white gown; then, behind a thin curtain (so as not to frighten the ladies), they recited Lafontaine’s fables, mathematical formulae and the succession of the Capet dynasty, complete with all dates. Thereupon Monsieur le Prefect, in a lengthy and beautiful speech, expressed his thanks and compliments to our dear directrice; that concluded the joyful day. Our physical well-being was cared for just as much as our spiritual progress: once a month the local vet inspected us and every six months we were all weighed to make sure we were the prescribed weight. Our esteemed directrice appealed to us in particular to put aside that shameful and dissolute custom of the Lunar Dances; I am ashamed to say that some of the older students nevertheless secretly indulged in that bestial and low practice. I hope that our motherly friend never heard of it: it would have broken her great, noble and loving heart.
11 Among other proposals there was one from the famous philologist Curtius in Janua linguarum aperta to the effect that Latin of the golden age of Virgil be adopted as a single universal language for the Newts. It is now in our power, he exclaimed, to ensure that Latin, that most perfect of languages, the one richest in grammatical rules and the one best researched by scholars, once more becomes a living world language. If educated humanity will not seize this opportunity, why not then do it yourselves, Salamandrae, gens maritimal Choose eruditam linguam latinam as your mother tongue, the only language worthy of being spoken by the whole orbis terrarum. It would redound to your everlasting merit, Salamandrae, if you resuscitated anew the eternal language of gods and heroes; for with that language, gens Tritonum, you will one day assume the inheritance of Roman world rule.
On the other hand, a certain Latvian telegraph clerk named Wolteras, in cooperation with the pastor Mendelius, invented and developed a special language for Newts, called pontic lang; in it he made use of elements of all the world’s languages, especially of African dialects. This Newtese (as it was also called) achieved a certain measure of currency especially in the Nordic countries, though unfortunately only among humans; in Uppsala a Chair of Newt Language was actually set up. But as far as is known not a single Newt spoke that language. The fact was that Basic English was the most common language among the Newts and subsequently became the official Newt language.
12 Cf. the feuilleton from the pen of Jarormr Seidl-Novomestsky preserved in Mr Povondra’s collection.
OUR FRIEND ON THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS
While engaged on a round-the-world trip with my wife, the poetess Henrietta Seidlova-Chrudimska, in order to find at least partial solace for the painful loss of our dear aunt, the writer Bohumila Jandova-StreSovicka, in the magic of so many new and profound impressions, we found ourselves one day on the lonely Galapagos islands, a group steeped in legend. We only had two hours to spare, and we used that time to take a walk along the beach of that barren archipelago.
‘Behold the beautifully setting sun,’ I said to my wife.
‘Is it not as though the entire firmament were drowning in a flood of gold and blood?’
‘Why, the gentleman would seem to be a Czech!’ a voice unexpectedly came from behind us in correct and pure Czech.
In astonishment we glanced in that direction. There was no one there, except a big black Newt sitting on some rocks, with what looked like a book in its hands. On our trip round the world we had already caught sight of a number of Newts but so far we had had no opportunity of conversing with any. The gentle reader will therefore appreciate our amazement when on such a deserted coast we encountered a Newt and, what is more, heard a remark in our native language.
‘Who is that talking?’ I exclaimed in Czech.
T took the liberty, sir,’ the Newt replied, courteously rising to its feet. ‘I was unable to resist the temptation, hearing for the first time in my life a conversation in Czech.’
‘How is it possible,’ I gasped; ‘you can really speak Czech?’
T have just been amusing myself with the conjugation of the irregular verb “to be”,’ the Newt replied. ‘That verb, as a matter of fact, is irregular in all languages.’
‘How, where and why,’ I pursued my questions, ‘did you learn Czech?’
‘Chance carried this book into my hands,’ the Newt answered, offering me the book it had been holding in its hand; it was Czech for Newts, and its pages bore witness to frequent and diligent use. ‘It arrived here with a shipment of books of an instructional character. I had the choice of Geometry for the Senior Forms of Secondary Schools, History of Military Tactics, a Guide through the Dolomites, and The Principles of Bimetallism. However, I chose this little book and I have grown very fond of it. I already know it by heart, yet I keep finding in it ever new sources of enjoyment and instruction.’
My wife and I expressed our unfeigned delight and amazement at the creature’s correct, and indeed almost intelligible, pronunciation. ‘Alas, there is no one here to whom I could speak Czech,’ our new friend remarked modestly, ‘and I am not even quite sure whether the instrumentative case of the word huh is koni or konmi.’
‘Konmi,’ I said.
‘Oh no, koni,’ my wife exclaimed with animation.
‘Would you be good enough,’ our delightful interlocutor inquired eagerly, ‘to tell me what news there is in Mother Prague, the City of a Hundred Towers?’
‘It’s growing, my friend,’ I replied, pleased at his interest, and in a few words outlined to him the prosperous growth of our golden metropolis.
‘What joyful ti
dings these are,’ the Newt said with undisguised satisfaction. ‘And are the severed heads of the decapitated Czech nobles still stuck up on the Bridge Tower?’
‘No, they haven’t been for a long time,’ I said, somewhat (I admit) taken aback by his question.
‘That is a great pity,’ the Newt observed sympathetically. ‘That was indeed a precious historical relic. It is a pity crying to high Heaven that so many splendid memorials have perished in the Thirty Years’ War! Unless I am mistaken, the Czech land was then turned into a desert drenched with blood and tears. How fortunate that the genitive of negation did not die out then as well! It says in this book that it is on the point of extinction. I am deeply distressed to learn it, sir.’
‘So you are fascinated also by our history,’ I exclaimed joyfully.