Karalamalar / Emre Sururi

ilm ksbiyle paye-i rifat
arzu-i muhal imiş ancak
aşk imiş her ne var âlemde
ilm bir kıyl ü kaal imiş ancak
Fuzuli

     We all have cultural blank spots – I, for example, despite having grown up in the seventies, cannot distinguish the music of the Rolling Stones from that of the Who, though I am, through osmosis, aware of these rock bands – so some people might not know that P.G. Wodehouse, the premier British comedic writer of the twentieth century, wrote a celebrated series of novels about a young, wealthy idiot named Bertie Wooster and his wildly competent and brainy valet named Jeeves! I repeat: a valet named Jeeves!

(…)

     So I dropped the matter, but then a few days later, in a rare act of willfulness, I called a domestic-help service, while Uncle Irwin was out selling gun-cleaning equipment and Aunt Florence was at the high school. The service promptly sent me Jeeves and I was immediately impressed by the man, but when he told me his name, I was taken aback and said to him distrustfully, “Did you change your name to Jeeves to bring in the business?”

     “No, sir,” he said. “Jeeves has long been my family name, since before my grandparents emigrated to this country from England.”

     “You’re American?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     “But you sound English to me.”

     “I have, sir, what you would call a Mid-Atlantic accent, which is sometimes mistaken for an English accent.”

     “Yes, you’re right. I hear it now. But, anyway, it’s awfully odd that you’re named Jeeves, if you know what I mean. It’s throwing me for a bit of a loop.”

     “I can appreciate, sir, your reaction. I imagine that you are making reference to the character Jeeves in the novels and stories of P.G. Wodehouse.”

     “Yes, that is what I’m making reference to!”

     “Well, all I can tell you, sir, is that it has long been the theory in my family that the young P.G. wodehouse must have encountered a Jeeves or a Jeaves with an a, in which case he changed the spelling for legal reasons, but, regardless, he thought it a good name for a valet and went on to use it with phenomenal success, but to the detriment of real Jeeves everywhere.”

     “I see.” I didn’t say it, since I didn’t think it was my place, but I wondered if Jeeves had gone into valeting out of desperation. A sort of “if you can’t beat them, join them” approach, like being named Roosevelt and feeling compelled to run for the president. “Have you considered changing your name to ease the burden?” I asked.

     “No, sir. Regardless of the circumstances, one takes a certain pride in one’s family name.”

     “I think,” I said, “it would be interesting someday if Chinese people ate Jewish food as much as Jewish people ate Chinese food. There should be Jewish fast-food places, like the Chinese have. Instead of wonton soup, chicken soup; instead of egg rolls, egg matzo; and a Jewish fortune cookie could be a piece of rugelach with a stock tip or something from a Jewish investment bank. You know, so people could make fortunes.”