spelling out whole numbers in Hanyu Pinyin

By request, here’s the pattern.

Pay particular attention to the cases of wàn (萬 / 万) and yì (億 / 亿). When the numbers quantifying those are greater than ten, wàn and yì are written separately.

8
58 wǔshíbā
658 liùbǎi wǔshíbā
5,658 wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
35,658 sānwàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
435,658 sìshísān wàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
9,435,658 jiǔbǎi sìshísān wàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
79,435,658 qīqiān jiǔbǎi sìshísān wàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
379,435,658 sān qīqiān jiǔbǎi sìshísān wàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā
6,379,435,658 liùshísān yì qīqiān jiǔbǎi sìshísān wàn wǔqiān liùbǎi wǔshíbā

Still higher units follow the pattern of wàn and yì.

Note: When líng (zero) is a medial, it is always written separately.

507 wǔbǎi líng qī 五百零七
40,507 sìwàn líng wǔbǎi líng qī 四萬零五百零七

Do Chinese characters save paper?

A common claim about Chinese characters (Hanzi) is that they take less space than alphabetic systems and so using them “saves paper.” After all, there aren’t spaces between words when writing in Chinese characters, and Chinese characters handle entire syllables rather than having to spell them out letter by letter. So this claim would seem to be self-evident. But things don’t always work out as expected.

cover of 'Did Adam and Eve Have Navels?' by Martin Gardnercover of the Mandarin translation of 'Did Adam and Eve Have Navels' 愛迪生,你被騙了!:你必須打破的27個科學迷思

A few weeks ago I was browsing the shelves of the enormous, wonderful Eslite bookstore near Taipei City Hall. (Nobody seems quite sure how the so-called English name of this chain is supposed to be pronounced, so many foreigners here prefer the Mandarin name: Chéngpǐn (誠品).) In many of the store’s sections, English-language originals and their translations into Mandarin are shelved right next to each other. So, after looking at a science book in English I pulled out the Mandarin Chinese translation of the same work and browsed through it. While I was doing so, I noticed something unexpected: the Mandarin version was longer than the English-language original.

This sparked my interest, so I pulled out some more paired titles, more or less at random, off the shelves for the purpose of comparison.

I did my best to keep the comparisons fair. In almost all of the cases I compared pairs of trade paperbacks: standard trade paperbacks in English with standard trade paperbacks in Mandarin.

Also, I didn’t count the pages taken up by indexes, since none of the translations into Mandarin had indexes. (Alphabets win hands down over Chinese characters when it comes to creating and using indexes, and I saw no reason to penalize the English books for this by counting pages that the ones in Chinese characters didn’t have the equivalent of.)

In addition, I avoided old books, since I wanted to be fairly sure the Mandarin Chinese translations were from the same English text as I was looking at. (I do, however, have one book written in German and translated into English. I didn’t check to see if the Mandarin version was done from the German original or the English translation.)

Of course, comparing across scripts and languages is certainly not the same as comparing simply across scripts (Hanzi vs. Hanyu Pinyin); but one does what one can.

Later, when I was supplementing my survey at the Eslite bookstore on Dunhua South Road when I noticed an error in my original method: I had forgotten to check where in the book page 1 fell. Many (but not all) English-language books mark the first page of the first chapter as page 1; many (but not all) books printed in Taiwan, however, include the front matter in their pagination, which leads to the first page of the first chapter being page 10 or so. So to help compensate for my oversight, it might be fair to subtract 10 pages from the Mandarin versions of those titles below followed by an asterisk. (The ones without an asterisk are those I examined most recently — and more carefully.)

Here are the results of my admittedly brief and unscientific survey:

Chronicles, Vol. 1, by Bob Dylan
English: 291 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 295 pp.

Collapse, by Jared Diamond
English: 560 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 609 pp.

The Death of Vishnu, by Manil Suri
English: 283 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 287 pp.

Deep Simplicity: Bringing Order to Chaos and Complexity*, by John Gribbin
English: 235 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 255 pp.

Did Adam and Eve Have Navels?: Debunking Pseudoscience*, by Martin Gardner
English: 310 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 367 pp.

The Elegant Universe*, by Brian Greene
English: 428 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 463 pp.

The Enigma of Arrival, by V.S. Naipaul
English: 350 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 422 pp.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, by J.K. Rowling
English: 607 pp. (hardback)
Mandarin in Hanzi: 716 pp.

Laboratory Earth*, by Stephen H. Schneider
English: 169 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 227 pp.

The Long Tail, by Chris Anderson
English: 226 pp. (hardback, slightly larger than the Mandarin trade paperback)
Mandarin in Hanzi: 313 pp. (written left to right)

Perfume*, by Patrick Su?skind
English: 255 pp. (translation from German)
Mandarin in Hanzi: 278 pp.

Tough Choices, by Carly Fiorina
English: 309 pp.
Mandarin in Hanzi: 341 pp.

Vernon God Little, by D.B.C. Pierre
English: 275 pp. (mass market paperback)
Mandarin in Hanzi: 325 pp.

In every instance, the books in Chinese characters are longer than those in English. Moreover, the pages in the Mandarin-language trade paperbacks are somewhat larger than those in the English-language trade paperbacks. So that’s even more paper consumed by the books written in Chinese characters.

Although I certainly do not believe that all pairs of books in English and Mandarin translation follow this pattern, a pattern this very much appears to be.

My guess would be that books printed in China would have fewer pages than those printed in Taiwan. (Anyone want to check some of the above titles? Or does anyone have pairs of other titles in unexpurgated editions?) In general, books in China simply aren’t designed and printed with the same degrees of competency, attention, and concern for the reader as books in Taiwan — not to mention books in the United States and Britain. (Or have things changed very much in this regard since I lived in China?) So, among other factors, the characters tend to be smaller, along with the leading and the margins.

And then there’s the fact that translations in China sometimes omit sentences or entire sections, especially if they are deemed “sensitive.” (I doubt, however, that the books I examined suffered from Beijing’s censors.)

Also, China’s left-to-right format might have an advantage over Taiwan’s predominant top-to-bottom style in terms of space.

rice pizza = ‘mizza’

advertising photo of Pizza Hut's rice pizza; the copy reads '米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun'Something written with three different scripts (Chinese characters, zhuyin, and the roman alphabet) is very much the sort of thing that attracts my attention, as is a product that mixes scripts in its name. So this ad for a new product from Taiwan’s Pizza Hut definitely caught my eye, though it did not inspire me to actually taste the item being touted, which is a rice pizza. (Generally, I do not care for pizzas with Taiwanese characteristics, such as those with peas, corn, or squid. For that matter, I don’t even like pineapple on pizza.)

The name for this rice pizza, “米zza” (mǐzza), is a portmanteau — using two different languages and two different scripts, no less. 米 is the Chinese character for , which is used mainly in rice- and other grain-associated words. The second part of the word comes, of course, from “pizza.”

Let’s move on to the slogan:

米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味 新鮮fun

In romanization, this is

mǐzza: chāo hāng měiwèi — xīnxiān fun

Here we have Chinese characters (zza ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun), zhuyin (米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun), and the Roman alphabet (米zza 超ㄏㄤ美味新鮮fun). Three scripts in just one line! (Yes, yes, I know that a line in written Japanese will often have just as many scripts, if not more; but this is Mandarin.)

The zhuyin, ㄏㄤ, represent hāng, a new slang word that, according to several people I have asked, has appeared within the last five years at most. It means “hot” in the sense of “extremely popular right now.”

Also, there’s a possibility that the English word “fun” is meant to echo the Mandarin fàn (飯 / 饭/ “rice”). Such puns across languages are not uncommon here, especially in local Internet slang.

So, the whole slogan might be translated as “Rice pizza: the super-’hot’ delicious food — fresh, new fun.” Sorry, that’s not a very good translation; it works better in Mandarin.

I predict such portmanteaux and mixing will be increasingly common here in Taiwan, where code switching is a way of life for many people. “Mǐzza” could be the wave of the future — just not the culinary future, I hope.

source: Taiwan Pizza Hut menu page, accessed January 30, 2007

confusing road signs to be corrected: MOTC

Taiwan’s Ministry of Transportation and Communications is calling on the public to report confusing or unclear highway signs.

The ministry’s Institute of Transportation (Jiāotōngbù Yùnshū Yánjiūsuǒ) has set up a toll-free telephone line for people who want to report such signs. The number is 0800-231-900, extension 5. Or people can make submissions through the institute’s Web site (Mandarin only).

I doubt that the ministry can be convinced that the awkward typography and tiny lettering of the romanization on many signs are indeed errors that need correction. Still, it’s worth a try. But as for the use of Tongyong Pinyin….

Signs will be corrected within 15 days, according to the ministry.

sources:

some common character slips in China

Joel of Danwei has translated the gist of a list of the top errors in Mandarin use for 2006, as submitted by the readers of Yǎowénjiáozì (咬文嚼字), a magazine in China. (Yǎowénjiáozì is tricky to translate. Maybe “Pedantry,” though that sounds a bit harsh.)

I’ve reproduced the errors relating specifically to character use (7 out of 10), making the characters larger in order to help make the distinctions clearer. See Joel’s post for details.

  1. (xiàng) instead of (xiàng)
  2. 丙戍年 (bǐng shù nián) instead of 丙戌年 (bǐngxū nián)
  3. 神州[六号] (Shénzhōu [liù hào]) instead of 神舟[六号] (Shén Zhōu [liù hào]) (Those responsible for naming the spacecraft, however, certainly intended the name to remind people of “the Divine Land” (Shénzhōu, 神州, i.e. China).)
  4. () instead of ()
  5. 美發 (měi fā) instead of 美髮 (měifà) (The characters 發 () and 髮 () were both given the simplified form of 发, so people in China often end up with the wrong character when trying to use the traditional form of 发.)
  6. 启示 (qǐshì) instead of 启事 (qǐshì)
  7. 哈蜜瓜 (hā mì guā) instead of 哈密瓜 (Hāmìguā)

sources:

Taiwan premier calls for support for romanization of Taiwanese

Taiwan’s premier, Su Tseng-chang (Sū Zhēn-chāng / 蘇貞昌), has instructed the Ministry of Education to back the Tái-Luó romanization system for Taiwanese.

Unless I’ve been misled by the local media, which has been known to confuse various romanization systems, this romanization system is simply what the Ministry of Education approved back in October 2006. (Tai-Luo means “Taiwan Romanization,” which is not a particularly specific name.) So the statement is likely simply as speculated in the media: that Su is seeking to bolster his “green” and “localization” credentials ahead of the ruling Democratic Progressive Party’s choice of a candidate for the 2008 presidential election. It’s hard to know if this is simply lip service or something that will lead to increased support for the romanization of Hoklo (Taiwanese), probably the former.

Su made the statement during a meeting last week with the head of the Taiwan Society, Chet Yang (Yáng Wén-jiā / 楊文嘉 / Yang Wen-chia). The Taiwan Society, an umbrella organization for pro-Taiwan groups, backs the same romanization system.

sources and further reading:

lane – 4 = street + $

A neighborhood along a small lane in Taipei has found a change in the name of their street highly profitable. What was once Jilong Road Section 3 Lane 4 is now Dunnan Street. The area’s lǐzhǎng (neighborhood head) worked for three years to get the change approved.

Although the story below doesn’t mention this, the television report I saw on this had several people in the neighborhood stating that a prime consideration for them was the elimination of the dreaded number four from their address.

Another factor in the boost in the price of real estate there is the new name, Dunnan Street (Dūnnán Jiē / 敦南街), which (intentionally) closely resembles the name of one of one of Taipei’s priciest roads: the nearby Dunhua South Road (Dūnhuà Nánlù / 敦化南路).

Qiángbì shàng xiě zhe Jīlóng Lù 3 duàn 4 xiàng, dàn pángbiān de lùpái quèshì dàdà de “Dūnnán Jiē” 3 ge zì, méicuò zhè tiáo xiàngzi bànnián qián zhèngshì gǎimíng jiào Dūnnán Jiē. Dūnnán Jiē zhùhù: “yěyǒu gǎi Jīlóng Lù, yěyǒu gǎi Hépíng Dōnglù, xiànzài gǎi.. ‘Dūnnán Jiē,’ luànqībāzāo.”

Bùguǎn zhīqián shì jǐ xiàng jǐ hào, zài lǐzhǎng 3 nián de bēnzǒu xià, xiànzài quánbù gǎimíng jiào Dūnnán Jiē, ménpái yī huàn, shēnjià mǎshàng bù yīyàng, fáng zhòng yèzhě yùgū měi píng 30 wàn de hángqíng, tiào dào 40 wàn, huànsuàn yī hù 30 píng de fángzi, xiàn zhǎng 300 wàn. Fáng zhòng yèzhě Yáng Kūn-zhōng: “Yībān rén de kèbǎn yìnxiàng, yǒu gēn Dūnhuà Nánlù yǒuguān de, fángjià kěnéng huì bǐjiào hǎo yīdiǎn.” TVBS jìzhě Gǔ Cǎi-yàn: “Zhèlǐ jiùshì Dūnnán Jiē le, hòumian zhèige háo zhái, píngjūn yī píng yào 5-60 wàn, kējì shǒufù Guō Tái-míng, yīkǒuqì, céngjīng zài zhèbiān mǎi le 4 hù fángzi.” Jiù lián guō tái míng yě céngjīng shì Dūnnán Jiē de wūzhǔ, dēngjì zài tā hé qīzi de míngxià. Dūnnán Jiē zhùhù: “(shénme) Guō Tái-míng, (zěnyàng) màidiào le ba.” Bùguò gǎimíng jiào Dūnnán Jiē zhīhòu, bùyòng dǎzháo diànzǐ dàhēng línjū de zhāopai, fángjià yǐjing yǒu lā tái de xiàoguǒ, zhǐnéng shuō jiào shénme lù míng, zhēn de yǒu chà.

source: Jīlóng Lù xiǎoxiàng gǎimíng “Dūnnán Jiē” — fángjià dà zhǎng (基隆路小巷改名「敦南街」 房價大漲), TVBS, January 20, 2007

Pinyin Info 1, Condoleezza Rice 0

U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice has joined Al Gore, John F. Kennedy, and other prominent U.S. politicians in spreading the crisis/opportunity myth. Fortunately, though, Glenn Kessler of the Washington Post found Victor H. Mair’s essay danger + opportunity ≠ crisis here on Pinyin Info:

At one point, Rice said that the difficult circumstances in the Middle East could represent opportunity. “I don’t read Chinese but I am told that the Chinese character for crisis is wei-ji, which means both danger and opportunity,” she said in Riyadh. “And I think that states it very well. We’ll try to maximize the opportunity.”

But Victor H. Mair, a professor of Chinese at the University of Pennsylvania, has written on the Web site https://pinyin.info, a guide to the Chinese language, that “a whole industry of pundits and therapists has grown up around this one grossly inaccurate formulation.” He said the character “ji” actually means “incipient moment” or a “crucial point.” Thus, he said, a wei-ji “is indeed a genuine crisis, a dangerous moment, a time when things start to go awry.”

sources and further readings: