An ecological study of the city is a new endeavor. Up to now, we have mostly been given inquiries dealing with transportation, housing, economic activity, recreational facilities, etc. All of this adds up to an attempt to reach partial solutions for problems affecting sub-systems. Urbanists and city planners have tried to reach a synthesis of these data whenever they were available.

There is an ever increasing need to approach urban problems by borrowing the concepts and the methodology of ecology The origins of this science stem from the research pertaining to plant and animal behavior in their natural habitat. Highly complex adaptation patterns could frequently be observed which allowed a large number of species not only to survive but also to attain a certain level of compatibility with other species. One need not be a determinist to recognize the common basis of adaptation for man and other animals and to tie together the physical and biological needs which underlie more complex individual and group behavior. Thus, for instance, von Frisch and Wilson - have recently redefined the biological bases of the noosphere.

The interest shown in marginal groups is explained by a diversity of factors. On the threshold of the modern era appeared an abundant literature devoted to a description of the world of delinquency. More particularly, these were treatises on the mysteries of the forbidden quarters of the cities of the time and on the behavior and way of life of social groups living by swindling or fraud. This being drawn to the exotic and the unusual in society, which was not unrelated to an awakening of ethnological curiosity, was also seen in the flowering of a type of literature which could be called “picaresque.” It had already appeared in the last centuries of the Middle Ages, but it came into full bloom only in the 16th and 17th centuries. The Spanish picaresque novel, because of its literary brilliance and its wide acceptance by the reading public, left in the shade a multitude of similar works coming from other European countries, from the English “rogue pamphlets” to the “rogue” literature of Germany and Holland to the tales of Polish and Czech vagabonds. These literary works are closely related to treatises which claimed to be based on eye-witness accounts or which claimed to report authentic events. In reality, they were all taken from fiction and demand comparison with documentary evidence. But the abundance of this type of literature and the success it enjoyed also indicate an early awareness by modern society of the growing importance of social groups living in contradiction to the norms, manners and customs in force at the time.

Paris. The Place de Grève is teeming with the city's idle seeking relief from their boredom. Street-singers, story-tellers and showmen are encircled by groups of people in varying moods—some sullen, others eager, some distracted, others attentive. Sweets vendors, mercers and lampoonists attract customers by their words and gestures. A little apart from the crowd, men with grave faces seem to be waiting for something: they are the unemployed, keeping an eye out for a possible hirer. On some days a drumroll precedes several men-at-arms escorting a condemned man and his executioner to the place of execution; the festive atmosphere turns suddenly somber, the crowd becomes silent. If scattered jeers and taunts are heard, more often than not it is just to relieve the tension.

The Place de Grève gave its name to the French word for strike, greve. And perhaps something still remains of the liveliness of that gathering-place in today's strikes. The Spanish word for strike, huelga, is near to juerga, Spanish for amusement or diversion. The English “strike,” the German streik, the Italian sciopero, all connote fighting, an exchange of blows. The words themselves thus suggest that a strike may be both militant and festive.

A cursory observer of Cree Indians in the small Canadian community we will describe would conclude that they are an “ acculturated “ but “deviant” company of persons. They give the appearance of being acculturated in that there is little in evidence of the distinctive culture they once had. White members of the community see nothing in visible Indian behavior which evokes the image of Charles Russell's noble warrior savages. To the contrary, whites regard Indians as social outcasts and renegades, and base this judgment on that Indian behavior they choose to see. Indians drink to excess, men and women alike; they get in fights and get arrested by the police; they panhandle; and they break all sorts of rules governing the conduct of respectable people in respectable public places. All of this whites abhor, and use to explain Indian authorship of Indians’ social and economic marginality. If they wished to, so the argument goes, Indians could easily better themselves— they merely and simply want in initiative.

As I have pointed out in a series of papers, which appeared about fifteen years ago in the Revue de l'histoire des religions, there are numerous resemblances between the ancient myths of the Indo-Europeans, on the one hand, and those of Japan, on the other. These resemblances, relating both to the fundamental structures of the two mythological systems and to a number of curious details, constitute an assemblage which seems too conspicuous to be regarded as either accidental or the result of a similitude of human mentalities, manifesting itself, so it seems, through the creation of a great many similar myths and legends throughout the length and breadth of the surface of our planet.

Ever since the pioneering works by Chogyū Takayama and others in 1899 Japanese scholars have endeavored to elucidate the structure, meaning, and genetic connections of Japanese mythology, which was systematically described in the volumes on the “Age of Gods” of the Kojiki (compiled in 712 A.D.), the Nihon Shoki (720), and other works. In recent years the research has experienced a remarkable development, which owes much of its stimulation to the epoch-making studies of Indo-European mythologies by Georges Dumézil. For Japanese mythology betrays much in common with the Indo-European ones not only in its motifs but also in its basic structure, as we shall shortly see. In order not to be misleading, however, it should be stated here that analogies to Indo-European mythologies are but one aspect of the Japanese tradition, which comprises many other components, especially South Chinese and/or Southeast Asian components, and current researches on Japanese mythology are not restricted to comparisons with the Indo-European mythologies, but are undertaken through a variety of approaches, including those of the historian, the philologist, and the ethnologist.