Recently the AMC cable channel broadcast a 32-hour marathon of Tarzan movies. Betty Friedan would have been outraged; I was ecstatic! My first exposure to the “noble savage” had been in Tarzan and the Amazons seen in 1945. I don't remember if the character of Jane appeared in that particular film, but in subsequent movies, Brenda Joyce assumed the role. I fell madly in love with Johnny Weissmuller in Amazons. Although in later years others would play the part, he would remain, in my mind at least, the one and only Tarzan.

Having never viewed the Weissmuller/Maureen O'Sullivan team, I now eagerly awaited Tarzan and the Ape Man. I was not disappointed. To coin a show biz term, this couple was “boffo.” What chemistry, what romance, what implicit torrid sexuality! But something else was operating on a deeper level in the next five films that set me to thinking. What was the broad appeal of these mythical characters that made the Edgar Rice Burroughs' books and numerous Hollywood films so universally popular? Apparently some basic truths about male/female relationships were being articulated which triggered a primeval response in the public psyche.

Consciously or not, Burroughs borrowed his characters from the biblical Genesis and incorporated the 18th century belief in the “noble savage” — the man living uncorrupted by society. The author placed Tarzan (the name means “white skin”) in the African jungle (Eden). Provided with nurturing apes and friendly elephants, this Pre-Fall Adam conversed with the herbivores. But Burroughs knew his King James Bible — “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a help meet like unto himself” — and he created a civilized Eve, namely Jane. Her name is the feminine form of John, meaning “Gift of God.” Tarzan, like Adam, was given dominion over his jungle kingdom. His animals responded to his commands, but he in turn was the faithful steward. When possible, he rescued his injured charges and protected them from “civilized” intruders who might otherwise hurt or exploit them.

In researching Tarzan of the Apes I discovered the original movie was filmed in 1918 and starred Elmo Lincoln. That silent feature portrayed the Burroughs book more accurately than later films, but the 1932 version, revamped by Hollywood, made Weissmuller an overnight star. The hero's terse dialogue, consisting of nouns and verbs, only helped to enhance the physicality of the Olympic swimming champion. Lacking the vocabulary to communicate his intentions, Weissmuller's Tarzan is, nevertheless, able through sign and body language to convince O'Sullivan's Jane that he means her no harm. He then helps her by lending his strength and expertise in providing food, shelter, and protection.

In Tarzan and His Mate (1934), material greed and lust enter paradise when friends of Jane's intrude on the Utopian jungle existence. Civilization demands ivory, and these determined Mayfair cads are out to seek their fortune. (I find it ironic that recent news reports have indicated that a central African country now wants to repeal ivory export quotas, much to the chagrin of the U.N.) Intending to lure Jane back to London by appealing to her female vanity, the ivory-grubbers truck Paris gowns, silk stockings, and the latest pop music into Tarzan's kingdom. Almost succumbing to the temptation, Jane is temporarily swayed; but Tarzan, endowed with practical male wisdom, instantly perceives the danger to the relationship with his mate. “Home!” he states emphatically, and when Jane demurs he calmly scoops her up and carries her off, leaving his stunned competitors speechless.

The next morning, Tarzan awakens Jane by blowing gently into her ear and greeting her with, “Good morning. I love you.” When she playfully teases him by asking, “Are you sure there isn't another woman?” his response is direct and simple. Pointing to her and then himself he declares, “Woman, Man.” Reassured, Jane agrees, “That's the way it should be.”

Modern-day feminist “Janes” have broken this social contract, thus leading to the near extinction of the “noble savage.” In their justifiable crusade against exploitation, too many women have forgotten or denied their desire and need for protection. Attempts at dominating men have led to emasculation of the sex. Men robbed of their primary roles as hunters, providers, and protectors in our urban jungles are hurt, angry, and confused. Their primeval instincts have been subverted by modern-day Amazons who insist on being Queen of the Jungle. These “Janes” refuse to listen to the Tarzan myth, much less learn from it. They continue to demand their right to invade traditionally male-controlled territory. Though a perceived right it may be, it has led them farther and farther away from home. The latest Armed Forces scandals are just a few examples of the confusion that results when feminism goes awry. And although we can't blame all the chaos—skyrocketing divorce rates, rampant juvenile crime, and crowded jails—on those women who have spoken up for past-denied rights, poisonous fruits often grow when misguided efforts are sown.

This movie marathon set me to wondering if viewers of the later Lex Barker Tarzan films weren't robbed of some enjoyment, since in the late '60s and early '70s Women's Lib finally received wide publicity. The media sensationalism obscured some of Lib's most valid points (not to mention destroying some perfectly good bras), and I'd hate to think the image of all that rugged Tarzan masculinity got burned along with the cotton and lace. Voices ranged from the strident outrage of Betty Friedan's '50s-written Feminine Mystique to the later, more compassionate voice of Gloria Steinem, guiding the freeing of both sexes away from forced roles. But what about the roles that aren't forced—those which come naturally to either of the sexes or the individual?

The Tarzan myth will continue to endure, because it proclaims elemental universal truths grasped by the human spirit. The male was designed to be dominant and strong, but gentle. He was meant to be the protector of the family unit. But today, his responsibilities have been usurped. Having relinquished his role as master of the environment, he will continue to abuse his world, because he is confused as to what his true function is.

As the new Millennium approaches, I hope the “noble savage” will not become extinct, to be viewed by future film buffs as only a 20th Century cultural oddity. If there are any Tarzans reading this, just yell “Umgawa,” show me your vines, and this Jane will swing with you anytime.

Copyright © 1998 Caryl Traugott.

BACK > Tarzan 2

Article reactions or comments to: Caryl Traugott