Reading Ian Buruma’s New Yorker review/essay (archived) on the history of ideas of European integration, I was struck by a couple of names that turned out to have interesting backgrounds. First came “the half Japanese Austro-Hungarian Count Richard von Coudenhove-Kalergi.” How could I not want to know more? The Wikipedia article made it even more impressive:
Richard Nikolaus Eijiro, Count of Coudenhove-Kalergi (German: Richard Nikolaus Eijiro Graf von Coudenhove-Kalergi; Japanese: リヒャルト・ニコラウス・栄次郎・クーデンホーフ＝カレルギー伯爵, romanized: Rihyaruto Nikorausu Eijirō Kūdenhōfu-Karerugī Hakushaku; 16 November 1894 – 27 July 1972), was a politician, philosopher, and count of Coudenhove-Kalergi. A pioneer of European integration, he served as the founding president of the Paneuropean Union for 49 years. His parents were Heinrich von Coudenhove-Kalergi, an Austro-Hungarian diplomat, and Mitsuko Aoyama, the daughter of an oil merchant, antiques-dealer and major landowner in Tokyo. His childhood name in Japan was Eijiro Aoyama (青山 栄次郎). Being a native Austrian-Hungarian citizen, he became a Czechoslovak citizen in 1919 and then took French citizenship from 1939 until his death.
From that Coudenhove-Kalergi link we learn that the family “is an Austro-Bohemian noble family of mixed Flemish and Cretan Greek descent, which was formed by the marriage of Count Franz Karl von Coudenhove (1825–1893) with Marie Kalergi (1840–1877) in 1857″; if you follow the Marie Kalergi link you will see that she was a fierce looking lady (as befits a Cretan Austro-Hungarian countess). And if you follow the earlier Aoyama link you will find that Mitsuko Thekla Maria, Countess of Coudenhove-Kalergi, born Mitsuko Aoyama (青山光子), “was one of the first Japanese people to immigrate to Europe, after becoming the wife of an Austro-Hungarian diplomat, Heinrich von Coudenhove-Kalergi, in Tokyo.” Her photo also depicts a formidable lady, though she looks reserved rather than fierce (as befits her background).
Later in the piece, Buruma says “In 1941, Italian antifascists produced the Ventotene Manifesto (named for a small island where they were interned), calling for a federal socialist Europe.” I looked up Ventotene and in the Italian Wikipedia article found this excursus on the name:
«… l’isola di Ventotiene (‘Ventotene’), chiamata nell’antichità greca e latina Πανδαταερíα e Πανδατερíα (‘colei che distribuisce tutto’), forse per la presenza di un tempietto dedicato a una perduta e così chiamata divinità locale, nome che fu poi trasformato in Bentitiene (‘isola dai fondali buoni tenitori’) o Bentitieni e anche Eutitieni, quest’ultimo in una singolare contaminazione tra greco e italiano…»
It’s sourced to Guglielmo Peirce, Gente di galera. La guerra nautica nel Mediterraneo tra Medioevo ed Evo Moderno, so I don’t know how reliable it is, but se non è vero…
“His wartime politics and adventures served as the real life basis for fictional Resistance hero Victor Laszlo, the Paul Henreid character in Casablanca.”
Huh — I missed that.
I hope he had a little more pizzazz than poor worthy Victor Laszlo.
an oil merchant, antiques-dealer and major landowner
One compound open, one hyphenated, and one solid. How do they decide?
This one used to be a commentator in the Austrian TV news. I had no idea about the connection to Japan.
I hope he had a little more pizzazz than poor worthy Victor Laszlo.
Eh. He’s well matched with the anaemic Ingrid Bergman.
Whenever I watch her performance in Casablanca, I can’t shake off the comparison with Lauren Bacall in To Have and Have Not, a film, which apart from being generally excellent, should have been banned if the censors had had any imagination at all. At several points, it’s a wonder the celluloid doesn’t catch fire.
Casablanca is a wonderful film, no question. But for quite other reasons …