philippos42

January writing meme, day 4:

So, about a week ago, the first Harry Potter movie was on tv. I came in near enough the beginning to watch practically the whole thing, so I did. It was all right, I can see the appeal.

I've never read the books. I've seen bits and pieces of the movies here and there. I think my major introduction to HP was a parody early on in Sluggy Freelance that just ripped into it. I have not been inspired to care much.

Of course, I was well out of school, and of the target demographic, when Scholastic started selling what they called "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" at elementary school book fairs. (At least, I assume that's what they were doing. I remember those school book fairs from my own childhood.) I was not inclined to care about a children's book with generic nerdy English kid in magic school (whoo!) and his owl.

(Apparently Tim Hunter is a trope, yeah? That's no surprise. [Given my flist, a few of you got that joke, good on you. Timothy Hunter and his yo-yo owl.])

Years ago, but years after the book came out, and I think well after I first heard of it, I found out the proper title: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Well, that's quite different! Now, understand, I am not inclined to care about this sort of book overmuch in any case, but that is a very different title. Indiana Jones had a print adventure with the Philosopher's Stone at some point, so I may have first heard the name there. The Philosopher's Stone is a mythic substance pursued by alchemists, which supposedly could transmute metals and/or prolong life.

It's not so much that Jo Rowling's portrayal of the Philosopher's Stone was especially "accurate" to Paracelsus, tradition, Zosimos of Panopolis, or a real science of alchemical transformation which doesn't even exist. It was more or less the stone of tradition, and close enough for such a little children's book, I reckon.

But "The Sorcerer's Stone" just sounds like a stone belonging to some sorcerer.

This amuses me immensely. For the US edition, Scholastic changed the title on the first book, and every incidence of the phrase, "Philosopher's Stone," within it. And for a little children's book sold at school book fairs for a few years, before sinking into the hole of public memory alongside "My Teacher is an Alien" and other forgettable vapid fantasies sold to kinder, that probably seemed fair enough.

Who knew it would become a major--nay, the major--cultural touchstone of a generation, around the English-speaking world? A series of seven (?) books, as many movies, rocketing Rupert Grint and Emma Watson into sex symbol status, inspiring college kids to try to play Quidditch despite not being able to fly, and so forth.

And so it becomes embarrassing now. You changed the title? Why?

One obvious possible reason is that they thought "Philosopher" was too hard for young readers. (My name is Philip, so that is perhaps both less and more obvious to me--of course I can pronounce a ph! But I wonder if it makes sense to people like the girl who once asked why my name didn't have an f.) Now, as a ph-bearer my own self, I am deeply, deeply offended at this. But I can believe it, sadly. But wait, this is a book with a character called "Hermione"! Published by a company called "Scholastic"! See that Greek-influenced ch in the company's name? Pronounced k? If ph is non-standard, so is that Of course neither is. Can that really be the rationale?

Well, maybe. I mean, maybe they thought "Her-me-own" was just the girl in the first book, it's not like she's in the title or going to be particularly important, right?
Again, Emma Watson, breakout star of the franchise, object of a zillion young male fantasies for a decade now. So yeah.

No, really, I don't know what they were thinking.

Now, it's not like it would have been an unreasonable authorial choice. If you're an author who decided that your magical substance would be called, "the Sorcerer's Stone," that's fine. But for an editor of an overseas edition? That's not really properly your call, is it?

It's like this: If one writes a book where the king of the gods is named "Buddy," that's authorial creativity. But given a book that calls the king of the gods "Jove," if a publishing house publishes half of the copies of that book calling him "Buddy," that's weird. Or if "Buddy" were changed to "Jove," or "Maugrim" to "Fenris Ulf." (cough)

Alternatively, imagine an editor who objected to the term "unicorn":
"It sounds like a mix of uniform and corn! It's confusing! A uniform made out of corn?! In my country we will call it a hornyhorse!"

Again, if you're the author, that's your call. If you're the editor, nay, a re-packager for a market within the same linguistic sphere, where the word exists just as much and means the same thing, it's not your call. And just because you aren't familiar with Jove, unicorns, or the Philosopher's Stone, doesn't mean a thing. Ask the author. Do a little research. Ask the editor of the original edition.

But it happened. Natch, confusion followed. Brits now think the Philosopher's Stone is called the Sorcerer's Stone in America. (Well, it's not, except in HP). Yanks now think Philosopher has a different meaning in Britain, maybe? Well, no. We don't talk about philosophers in the same way as biscuits or vests (words which do have slightly divergent meanings in the US and UK). "Philosopher" is a sort of learned concept, all things considered, and tends to be repeated in a way that keeps it in that learned context. It can evolve its denotation, but so far it has evolved not very much and largely in the same way, because people who use the word are people who read books, and we have largely shared a common English canon.

Still, I wonder if somewhere there's a former Scholastic editor thinking, in that sort of self-justification we like to engage in when the whole world knows we were just wrong:
"I'm glad I did it! I'm separating the languages, like Noah Webster!"