Tonally Orthographic Pinyin

Tonally Orthographic Pinyin (TOP) is a modification of Hanyu Pinyin that uses capitalization practices to distinguish between the various tones of Mandarin.

This can mess with the capitalization found at the beginnings of sentences and proper nouns, so I have mixed feelings about it. But many find TOP useful as a learning tool and in writing text messages.

Here’s how TOP’s creator, Terry Thatcher Waltz, describes the system:

FIRST TONES ARE WRITTEN IN ALL CAPS. YOUR VOICE IS HIGH.

seconD toneS arE writteN witH thE lasT letteR capitalizeD. that’S becausE youR voicE haS tO risE.

third tones are written all lower case. that’s because the voice is low. (let’s keep discussions on the true nature of third and half-third tones somewhere else — this system is just to help us poor foreigners internalize tones!)

Fourth Tone Has The First Letter Of Each Word Capitalized, Because Your Voice Starts High And Then Falls Downward.

Thus, the phrase “wǒ měitiān liànxí Hànyǔ” would be written “wo meiTIAN LianxI Hanyu” in TOP.

See the first link below for details.

further reading:

illiteracy among China’s disabled: official PRC survey

A total of 43.29 percent of China’s disabled people aged 15 or above are illiterate, according to the results of the second China National Sample Survey on Disability.*

This represents a considerable drop from the 59 percent illiteracy rate in recorded in 1987, according to the survey.

The survey was conducted throughout China by government organizations, with 2,526,145 people in 771,797 households being inverviewed between April 1 and May 31, 2006.

People classified as disabled comprise 6.34 percent of the PRC’s population, or about 83 million people. More than 75 percent of these live in rural areas.

* Regular readers of this site know that I have little faith in the accuracy of China’s official statistics, especially concerning the topic of literacy. But I do like to keep track of what the PRC is saying about this.

source: Most of China’s disabled not financialy [sic] independent: survey, Xinhua via People’s Daily, May 29, 2007

Google’s new ‘cross-language information retrieval’

Google has just launched a “cross-language information retrieval” (CLIR) function to Google Translate.

Here is how Google describes it:

Now, you can search for something in your own language (for example, English) and search the web in another language (for example, French). If you’re looking for wine tasting events in Bordeaux while on vacation in France, just type “wine tasting events in Bordeaux” into the search box on the “Search results” tab on Google Translate. You’ll then get French search results and a (machine) translation of these search results into English. Similarly, an Arabic speaker could look for restaurants in New York, by searching for “???? ???????”; or a Chinese speaker could look for documents on machine learning on the English web by looking for “????”.

These are the languages available, though for now these are not available in all combinations but mainly to or from English. (German and French are the only languages listed that can work with each other rather than English.)

  • Arabic
  • English
  • French
  • German
  • Italian
  • Japanese
  • Korean
  • Mandarin (in traditional characters)
  • Mandarin (in simplified characters)
  • Portuguese
  • Russian
  • Spanish

sources:

Japanese literacy–an SPP reissue

Here’s another re-release from the archives of Sino-Platonic Papers: Computers and Japanese Literacy: Nihonzin no Yomikaki Nôryoku to Konpyûta, by J. Marshall Unger of the Ohio State University’s Department of East Asian Languages and Literatures. The link above is to the PDF version (1.2 MB), which reproduces the original exactly.

This is a parallel text in Japanese (in romanization) and English, so if any of you want to practice reading romaji, here’s your chance.

The English text alone is available in HTML: Computers and Japanese Literacy.

The essay touches on many of themes Unger explores in depth in his books, all of which have excerpts available here on Pinyin Info: The Fifth Generation Fallacy, Literacy and Script Reform in Occupation Japan, and Ideogram: Chinese Characters and the Myth of Disembodied Meaning.

Here is the opening, in both English and Japanese (in romanization).

Watakusi wa saikin, gendai no konpyûta siyô to Nihongo ni tuite kenkyu site orimasu. Gengogakusya mo konpyûta no nôryoku ya mondaiten ni tuite iken o happyo suru sekinin ga aru to omou kara desu. I am currently engaged in research on contemporary computer usage and the Japanese language. Linguists too, I believe, have a responsibility to present their views on the potentials and problems of computers.
Sate, Amerika no zen- Kôsei Kyôiku tyôkan, John Gardner-si no kotoba de hazimetai to omoimasu. Sore wa “aizyô nasi no hihan to hihan nasi no aizyô (Eigo de iu to, “unloving criticism and uncritical love”) to iu kotoba desu. Gardner-si wa, Amerikazin no aikokusyugi ni tuite Amerika o sukosi de mo hihan site wa ikenai to syutyô suru hito wa kangaetigai da, aizyô nasi ni syakai ya bunka no ketten o hihan bakari suru koto wa motiron warui keredo, hihan sore zitai o kiratte kokusuisyugi o susumeru koto mo syôrai no tame ni yoku nai, to iimasita. Kono koto wa bokoku igai no syakai to bunka ni tai suru baai de mo onazi de wa nai desyô ka? Gengogakusya ya rekisigakusya mo “aizyô nasi no hihan to hihan nasi no aizyô” to iu ryôkyokutan o sakeru yô ni sita hô ga ii to omou no desu. Watakusi wa Nihon no gengo to bunka o senmon ni site, Nihon ni tai site aizyô o motte orimasu kara koso, Nihongo no hyôkihô ya Nihonzin no yomikaki nôryoku ni tuite no teisetu o mondai ni site iru wake desu. Iwayuru zyôhôka syakai no zidai ni hairi, ippan no hitobito ga pasokon ya wâpuro o kozin-yô ni tukau yô ni naru ni turete, nettowâku tûsin, kyôiku-yô sohutowea, sôzôteki na puroguramingu nado ga yôkyû sarete kite iru desyô. Mosi sono konpon ni aru yomikaki nôryoku no henka to genzyô o gokai sureba, gôriteki na konpyûta siyôhô o kaihatu dekinai darô to omou kara desu. Let me begin by quoting the former U.S. Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare, John Gardner. I am thinking of his phrase “unloving criticism and uncritical love.” By this, he meant that it was wrong for proponents of American patriotism to oppose even the slightest criticism of the United States: although it is bad to dwell unsympathetically on finding fault with social and cultural shortcomings, it is equally bad for the future of society to advance nationalism and eschew all criticism. I think that this is also true when considering foreign societies and cultures. Linguists and historians would do well to avoid the twin extremes of “unloving criticism and uncritical love.” As someone professionally involved with the language and culture of Japan, I have an affection for the country, but for that very reason, I wish to call into question the accepted theory of Japanese script and literacy. As we enter the age of the so-called informational society, and as more and more ordinary people begin to use computers on an individual basis, demands on network communications, educational software, creative programming, and so on, will steadily increase. Unless we understand the present situation and history of literacy, which underlies all these applications, we cannot hope to develop a rational basis for computer usage.
Sate, hyôi mozi to iu kotoba wa Nihongo ni tuite no hon ni yoku dete imasu kara kokugogaku no yôgo da to itte mo ii hodo desu ga, hyôi mozi to iu mono wa zissai ni sonzai site iru desyô ka? Kyakkanteki ni kangaete miru to, dono gengo mo konponteki ni wa hanasu mono desu. Mozi wa syakaiteki, rekisiteki na men ga arimasu ga, mozi wa kotoba no imi no moto de wa arimasen. Tatoeba, itizi mo yomenai mômoku no hito de mo, hoka no syôgai ga nai kagiri, bokokugo ga kanzen ni hanaseru yô ni narimasu. Sitagatte, hanasi-kotoba to wa mattaku kankei ga nai mozi nado to iu mono wa muimi na gainen desu. Gengo no imi wa gengo no kôzô kara hassei si, mozi wa sono han’ei de sika nai wake desu. Kore wa toku ni kore kara no konpyûta o kangaeru toki ni wasurete wa ikemasen…. The term “ideographic characters” appears so often in books on the Japanese language that one might say it has become a stock phrase of Japanese linguistics. I wonder, however, whether such things as “ideographs” actually exist. When examined objectively, all languages are fundamentally speech. Characters are not the source of the meanings of words, although they do have their social and historical aspects. For example, blind people who cannot read a single character can nonetheless speak their native tongues perfectly, unless they suffer from some other handicap. The very idea of characters totally divorced from speech is therefore meaningless. For the meaning of language emerges from the structure of language, of which writing is merely a reflection. It is particularly important that we not forget this when we consider the computers of the future….

This was first published in January 1988 as issue no. 6 of Sino-Platonic Papers.

software to test Mandarin pronunciation

Chinese scientists have developed a computer program to test how well people speak Mandarin Chinese.

The technology will help improve oral testing of Chinese and promote Mandarin Chinese both at home and abroad, said Fu Yong, former deputy director of the State Language Work Committee.

The technology was jointly developed by the Acoustics Institute and the Software Institute under the Chinese Academy of Sciences and Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

Lab experiments show that more than 98 percent of the results given by the computer evaluation system were as same as the results given by linguists, said Ju Qi, deputy director of the Acoustics Institute.

The system will be introduced to Mandarin Chinese examinations in Hong Kong’s middle schools and universities.

source: China resorts to computer to test Mandarin Chinese, People’s Daily, via Xinhua, May 23, 2007

Taiwan gov’t releases booklet on Hoklo romanization

Taiwan’s Ministry of Procrastination Education has finally released a handbook on the use of romanization for Taiwanese: “Táiwān Mǐnnányǔ Luómǎzì pīnyīn fāng’àn shǐyòng shǒucè” (《臺灣閩南語羅馬字拼音方案使用手冊》).

Most of the pages in this are devoted to a list of the syllables of Taiwanese. Without counting tones Taiwanese has nearly twice as many unique syllables as Mandarin (797 vs. about 410, respectively).

Here’s the list of Taiwanese syllables, as given in Taiwan’s current official romanization system for Hoklo:

a, ah, ai, ainn, ak, am, an, ang, ann, ap, at, au, ba, bah, bai, bak, ban, bang, bat, bau, be, beh, bi, bian, biat, biau, bih, bik, bin, bing, bio, bit, biu, bo, bok, bong, boo, bu, bua, buah, buan, buat, bue, bueh, bui, bun, but, e, eh, enn, ga, gai, gak, gam, gan, gang, gau, ge, gi, gia, giah, giam, gian, giang, giap, giat, giau, gik, gim, gin, ging, gio, gioh, giok, giong, giu, go, gok, gong, goo, gu, gua, guan, guat, gue, gueh, gui, ha, hah, hai, hainn, hak, ham, han, hang, hann, hannh, hap, hat, hau, he, heh, henn, hennh, hi, hia, hiah, hiam, hian, hiang, hiann, hiannh, hiap, hiat, hiau, hiauh, hik, him, hin, hing, hinn, hio, hioh, hiok, hiong, hip, hit, hiu, hiunn, hiunnh, hm, hmh, hng, hngh, ho, hoh, hok, hong, honn, honnh, hoo, hu, hua, huah, huai, huainn, huan, huann, huat, hue, hueh, hui, hun, hut, i, ia, iah, iam, ian, iang, iann, iap, iat, iau, iaunn, ik, im, in, ing, inn, io, ioh, iok, iong, ip, it, iu, iunn, ji, jia, jiam, jian, jiang, jiap, jiat, jiau, jim, jin, jio, jiok, jiong, jip, jit, jiu, ju, juah, jue, jun, ka, kah, kai, kainn, kak, kam, kan, kang, kann, kap, kat, kau, kauh, ke, keh, kenn, kha, khah, khai, khainn, khak, kham, khan, khang, khann, khap, khat, khau, khe, kheh, khenn, khennh, khi, khia, khiah, khiak, khiam, khian, khiang, khiap, khiat, khiau, khiauh, khih, khik, khim, khin, khing, khinn, khio, khioh, khiok, khiong, khip, khit, khiu, khiunn, khng, kho, khok, khong, khoo, khu, khua, khuah, khuai, khuan, khuann, khuat, khue, khueh, khuh, khui, khun, khut, ki, kia, kiah, kiam, kian, kiann, kiap, kiat, kiau, kik, kim, kin, king, kinn, kio, kioh, kiok, kiong, kip, kit, kiu, kiunn, kng, ko, koh, kok, kong, konn, koo, ku, kua, kuah, kuai, kuainn, kuan, kuann, kuat, kue, kueh, kui, kun, kut, la, lah, lai, lak, lam, lan, lang, lap, lat, lau, lauh, le, leh, li, liah, liam, lian, liang, liap, liat, liau, lih, lik, lim, lin, ling, lio, lioh, liok, liong, lip, liu, lo, loh, lok, long, loo, lu, lua, luah, luan, luat, lue, lui, lun, lut, m, ma, mai, mau, mauh, me, meh, mi, mia, miau, mih, mng, moo, mooh, mua, mui, na, nah, nai, nau, nauh, ne, neh, ng, nga, ngai, ngau, nge, ngeh, ngia, ngiau, ngiauh, ngoo, ni, nia, niau, nih, niu, nng, noo, nua, o, oh, ok, om, ong, onn, oo, pa, pah, pai, pak, pan, pang, pat, pau, pe, peh, penn, pha, phah, phai, phainn, phak, phan, phang, phann, phau, phauh, phe, phenn, phi, phiah, phiak, phian, phiang, phiann, phiat, phiau, phih, phik, phin, phing, phinn, phio, phit, phngh, pho, phoh, phok, phong, phoo, phu, phua, phuah, phuan, phuann, phuat, phue, phueh, phuh, phui, phun, phut, pi, piah, piak, pian, piang, piann, piat, piau, pih, pik, pin, ping, pinn, pio, pit, piu, png, po, poh, pok, pong, poo, pu, pua, puah, puan, puann, puat, pue, pueh, puh, pui, pun, put, sa, sah, sai, sak, sam, san, sang, sann, sannh, sap, sat, sau, se, seh, senn, si, sia, siah, siak, siam, sian, siang, siann, siap, siat, siau, sih, sik, sim, sin, sing, sinn, sio, sioh, siok, siong, sip, sit, siu, siunn, sng, sngh, so, soh, sok, som, song, soo, su, sua, suah, suai, suainn, suan, suann, suat, sue, sueh, suh, sui, sun, sut, ta, tah, tai, tainn, tak, tam, tan, tang, tann, tap, tat, tau, tauh, te, teh, tenn, tha, thah, thai, thak, tham, than, thang, thann, thap, that, thau, the, theh, thenn, thi, thiah, thiam, thian, thiann, thiap, thiat, thiau, thih, thik, thim, thin, thing, thinn, thio, thiok, thiong, thiu, thng, tho, thoh, thok, thong, thoo, thu, thua, thuah, thuan, thuann, thuat, thuh, thui, thun, thut, ti, tia, tiah, tiak, tiam, tian, tiann, tiap, tiat, tiau, tih, tik, tim, tin, ting, tinn, tinnh, tio, tioh, tiok, tiong, tit, tiu, tiuh, tiunn, tng, to, toh, tok, tom, tong, too, tsa, tsah, tsai, tsainn, tsak, tsam, tsan, tsang, tsann, tsap, tsat, tsau, tse, tseh, tsenn, tsha, tshah, tshai, tshak, tsham, tshan, tshang, tshann, tshap, tshat, tshau, tshauh, tshe, tsheh, tshenn, tshi, tshia, tshiah, tshiak, tshiam, tshian, tshiang, tshiann, tshiap, tshiat, tshiau, tshih, tshik, tshim, tshin, tshing, tshinn, tshio, tshioh, tshiok, tshiong, tship, tshit, tshiu, tshiunn, tshng, tshngh, tsho, tshoh, tshok, tshong, tshoo, tshu, tshua, tshuah, tshuan, tshuang, tshuann, tshue, tshuh, tshui, tshun, tshut, tsi, tsia, tsiah, tsiam, tsian, tsiang, tsiann, tsiap, tsiat, tsiau, tsih, tsik, tsim, tsin, tsing, tsinn, tsio, tsioh, tsiok, tsiong, tsip, tsit, tsiu, tsiunn, tsng, tso, tsoh, tsok, tsong, tsoo, tsu, tsua, tsuah, tsuainn, tsuan, tsuann, tsuat, tsue, tsuh, tsui, tsun, tsut, tu, tua, tuan, tuann, tuat, tue, tuh, tui, tun, tut, u, ua, uah, uai, uainn, uan, uang, uann, uat, ue, ueh, uh, ui, un, ut

dictionary compilation’s four D’s and ‘spiritual ecstasy’

The Shanghai Daily has a profile of Lu Gusun (Lù Gǔsūn, 陆谷孙, 陸谷孫), editor-in-chief of the plainly titled English-Chinese Dictionary (Yīng-Hàn dà cídiǎn, 《英漢大詞典》). The second edition of this dictionary, which was released earlier this month, contains more than 20,000 new entries, an increase of some 10 percent.

Lu has spent most of his academic life at Fudan University, at which in 1965 he earned a master’s in foreign languages and literature. He stayed on as a teacher specializing in Shakespeare. But then came the Cultural Revolution. “Those were the days when the world could not tolerate a peaceful desk for study,” Lu said simply.

Criticized as bourgeois, he had to recite the poems of Alexander Pushkin after a day’s hard labor.

I wonder if the reporting here is accurate, as being forced to recite Pushkin would have been a very strange punishment from a number of standpoints — even in those very strange times.

Lu was forced out of teaching and assigned to compile dictionaries.

In 1970, Lu participated in compiling the New English-Chinese Dictionary, which is still available and has sold more than 10 million copies over the years.

One of the reasons for its vitality was the fact that Lu “smuggled” in many up-to-date words and expressions. Otherwise it would have been staid and quickly dated….

In 1975, Lu and a team of scholars started work on the English-Chinese Dictionary and he was appointed editor-in-chief in 1986.

It took them 16 years to finish the award-winning dictionary, and the team of compilers shrank to 17 people from 108 at the peak.

“To compile a dictionary, you have to bear the loneliness and resist various temptations,” says Lu. “Many partners gave it up for more lucrative posts, some went abroad, some started their own businesses and some died out of devotion to the creation of the dictionary.” A compiler in his 40s passed away just three months before the dictionary was published.

As for Lu, he used coffee, cigarettes, mustard and even alcohol to sustain his fighting spirit. He promised not to go abroad, publish books or take any part-time teaching jobs until the dictionary was complete….

“It is a solemn battle,” says Lu. “Only those who have experienced this can understand the solemnity…. The process of dictionary compilation is always plagued by the four Ds — namely, delays, deficits, delinquencies and deficiencies. But there is spiritual ecstasy that you can hardly experience elsewhere.”

Although Lu has formally retired from Fudan University, he continues to deliver popular lectures in English twice a week to freshmen, and he advises graduate students.

“I hope colleges can be a wonderland, not a wasteland for young people. They should have their minds sharpened and their lives enriched here,” he says.

“Some colleges now make training leaders their main target. But this goal can deprive students of many pure pleasures and undermine their enthusiasm for academic achievements,” the professor adds.

source: Prof inspires ‘spiritual ecstasy’, Shanghai Daily, May 15, 2007

Chabuduo jiu keyi?

When it comes to signage and much else in Taiwan, the phrase chàbuduō jiù kěyǐ (差不多就可以) might qualify as the country’s unofficial motto. “Close enough for government work” is probably the best idiomatic translation.

The railway-station sign in this photo in many ways exemplifies this.

Hsinchu Jhubei Shiangshan

Rather than list all of the errors and oddities of this sign, I thought I’d let readers have a go at this one. How many errors and problematic points can you find?