a geisha by any other character

This has to do with Memoirs of a Geisha. But I don’t give a hoot about what is probably a profoundly silly movie that I have no intention of paying money to see. Nor do I care about Beijing’s profoundly silly objections to it. What I’m interested here is how Chinese characters were manipulated for the name.

In Mandarin, the word for “geisha” is yìjì, which is written 藝妓 in traditional Chinese characters and 艺妓 in “simplified” Chinese characters. The word for “memoirs” is huíyìlù, written 回憶錄 (回忆录 in simplified characters).

Thus, Memoirs of a Geisha could be translated as Yìjì huíyìlù, which it has been up to a point. (This is something of a surprise in itself, because Western movies tend to be completely retitled in Taiwan, Hong Kong, and China rather than have their titles translated into Mandarin. There’s a tedious sameness to most of these titles, which tend to imitate titles of other popular movies and throw in 愛 (ài, love) a lot.)

As written in Chinese characters, the title in Taiwan of the movie is 藝伎回憶錄, not the expected 藝妓回憶錄. Note the difference in the second character:

vs.

The form in the movie title has the “person” radical 亻, while the original form has the “woman” radical 女.

The one with the woman radical is strongly associated with prostitution. Here are a few of the many prostitution-related words that contain this character:

  • 娼妓 chāngjì n. prostitute; streetwalker
  • 娼妓館 chāngjìguǎn p.w. brothel
  • 妓館 jìguǎn p.w. brothel
  • 妓女 jìnǚ n. prostitute
  • 妓院 jìyuàn p.w. brothel
  • 營妓 yíngjì n. prostitutes serving military units
  • 箏妓 zhēngjì n. zither-playing courtesan

Even a word for male prostitute takes this character: 妓男 (jìnán).

Here, by way of contrast, are some of the words containing the character with the “person” radical:

  • 伎巧 (also 技巧) jìqiǎo n. (1) technique; skill; craftsmanship; dexterity (2) acrobatic gymnastics
  • 才伎之士 cáijìzhīshì f.e. a person of outstanding ability in craftsmanship
  • 歌舞伎 gēwǔjì n. (1) (trad.) female dancer/singer (2) (Jp.) Kabuki
  • 鬼蜮伎倆 guǐyùjìliǎng id. devilish stratagem; evil tactics
  • 故技/伎 gùjì n. old trick/tactics
  • 故伎重演 gùjìchóngyǎn f.e. play the same old tricks; be up to one’s old tricks again
  • 賤伎 jiànjì n. inferior/lowly arts
  • 伎而止此 jì’érzhǐcǐ f.e. One’s cleverness stops here.
  • 伎/技倆 jìliǎng n. (1) trick; intrigue; maneuver (2) skill; dexterity; craft
  • 伎藝 jìyì n. (1) mechanical arts (2) expert skill

So the switch from 妓 to 伎 was an attempt to soften the connotations of prostitution, changing Memoirs of a Geisha (i.e. prostitute, in common association, whether that’s just or not) to Memoirs of a Skilled Performer. It also brings to the fore the phonetic basis for Chinese characters as it is no coincidence that 妓 and 伎 are pronounced the same. This same phonetic basis, however, is why the revised name isn’t really different; it just looks different. All this is the written equivalent of fancy footwork. It doesn’t really change a thing. Yìjì is the word for geisha, so that’s what is going to come to mind, not “skillful performer” — not unless the movie-title’s usage somehow becomes widely used and longlasting. But I doubt it.

After all, the translators could have adopted another word for geisha, gējì, which takes both forms: 歌伎 and 歌妓. So why not use 歌伎 and get rid of that troublesome 妓 character without bending any usage? Because the main word for geisha is still yìjì, and geji is also used for prostitutes (there’s that word again) who sang and danced. And maybe some people would have been expecting a musical because of 歌 (, song).

Although it might sound sophisticated for the translators to have played with Chinese characters this way, it’s not really all that different from naming a band Wyld Stallyns instead of Wild Stallions.

Memoirs of a Wyld Stallyn? Hmm. Now that might have potential.

source: ‘Memoirs of a Geisha’ Lost in Political Din, IPS, February 7

the crisis of what we know but just ain’t so

It looks like Al Gore has joined those spreading the crisis/opportunity myth, whose popularity seems to have originated with a May 1959 speech by John F. Kennedy.

Gore’s talk is a slideshow of images, designed to help us think about “a planetary emergency, a climate crisis”. He quotes the old saw that the Chinese character for crisis includes signs for “danger” and “opportunity” and suggests that we have the possibility of making the 21st century the “Century of Renewal”

This is especially ironic in that he later cites Mark Twain: “What gets us into trouble is what we know, but just ain’t so.”

And then we get double the irony in that this is probably not an authentic Twain quote. That’s one of those sayings that makes the rounds in various forms. And I’ve noticed that Mark Twain tends to be given as the source of all sorts of folksy witticisms. But is this really by him, and is this the original wording? I strongly doubt it. Perhaps my source, though, is paraphrasing Gore rather than quoting him on this.

source: Al Gore. Quieter than the Children of Uganda

Taiwan premier backs adoption of common years

The ROC system for dating years, the source of Taiwan’s approaching Y1C problem, is in the news.

Premier Su Tseng-chang on Friday told lawmakers that he supported Taiwan fully adopting the almost universal practice of dating years. Currently, the year 2006 is referred to in Taiwan as the year 95.

More on this later.

Sources:

  • Taiwan may drop idiosyncratic Republican calendar, Taipei Times, February 25, 2006
  • Premier backs replacing ROC dating system, China Post, February 25, 2006 (This is a good example of why the China Post is such a bad newspaper: It features mainly poor translations of poorly written, non-objective stories from none-too-good local Mandarin newspapers. I’m including the link, though, because the story provides more information than the one in the Taipei Times, a paper that sometimes has problems of its own.)

Shanghai moves against English-only signage, ads

The official Shanghai Language Works Commission has been keeping busy. In addition to ordering severe restrictions on the use of the language native to most people in the area, yesterday it decreed that beginning next month all companies, stores, and entertainment venues in Shanghai must include Chinese characters on their signs and in their notices and advertisements.

The regulation is aimed primarily against English-only signage.

What’s not clear, though, is if the rules declare what the Chinese characters must say or how much space must be given to them. Can the English be much larger? Can there be a full page of copy in English but just, say, the address in Chinese characters?

Those who violate the rule will be warned and told to fix the problem immediately. Repeat offenders will have their names added to a black-list published in local media outlets, but they face no fines or jail terms, according to the rule.

“Foreign-language-only signboards will probably hamper people’s understanding and deliberately set up communication barriers for most Chinese,” said Sun Xiaoxian, an official with the language works commission.

Many entertainment facilities that target foreign consumers have never set up Chinese signs, and others deliberately use English only to demonstrate they are the so-called “high-class” places, Sun said.

Only 15 of the 39 signs for businesses in front of the Shanghai Center, an office and hotel complex on Nanjing Road W., have Chinese characters on them.

Of 14 bars and restaurants along Tongren Road, only Blue Frog has a Chinese name — Lan Wa — on its sign.

A manager at Blue Angel, a bar next door to Blue Frog, said he had never heard of the new regulation.

“Most of our customers are foreigners, so we don’t need to worry that they cannot recognize the English signs,” said the manager who refused to disclose her name.

Many bars in the city don’t even have Chinese menus, according to Sun.

Blue Angel only added Chinese to its menu a few months ago, the manager said.

The language commission officials said they conduct regular spot checks beginning next month to ensure the regulation is being followed.

English only signs outlawed, Shanghai Daily, February 24, 2006

too many romanization systems for Taiwanese in textbooks, say critics

Groups favoring the promotion of Taiwanese (also called Hokkien, Hoklo, Minnan, and all sorts of other names) are urging Taiwan’s Ministry of Education to come to a consensus on what phonetic system should be used to teach it, according to an article in the Taipei Times.

The article, however, is a bit confused in its facts, so I’m presenting it for what it’s worth and hoping commenters here can help set matters straight. Certainly, though, the variety of systems — and for some of these I use the word loosely — being used in textbooks is a hindrance to effective teaching of the language.

Some might be surprised to know that Tongyong Pinyin is not Taiwan’s official romanization system for Taiwanese, though its schemes were approved for Mandarin and Hakka. I tend to think of Tongyong for Mandarin as more of a nationalist marketing scheme than a romanization. I know there are more than a few people who hold the same view of Tongyong for Taiwanese.

As long as I’m on the subject, I’d like to remind people that, despite the misinformation that has been spread by some of its supporters, Tongyong is not one system that covers all the languages of Taiwan.

Native-language interest groups yesterday urged the Ministry of Education to speed up the creation of a unified phonetic system for the Hoklo language (commonly known as Taiwanese) to preserve Taiwanese culture.

Lee Shang-hsien (???), director of the Taiwan Pik Hap Cultural Association which promotes the Hoklo language, said that different versions of elementary school Hoklo textbooks used three different phonetic systems.

At the moment, Hoklo text books use either Tongyong pinyin, the Hanyu Romanization system, or the Taiwanese Language Phonetic Alphabet (TLPA).

Lee said that the three systems did not reflect regional Hoklo accents, and added that the Hoklo language could not be preserved and passed on to the next generation without a unified phonetic system.

Language teacher Su Huang-hung (???) said that Hoklo originally had eight tones, but due to the similarity of the second and sixth tones, most phonetic systems regarded Hoklo as a seven-tone language.

Using the Tongyong pinyin system reduces Hoklo to only five tones, Su said.

In addition, Hoklo pronunciation changes according to syntactic context, she added.

However, Tongyong pinyin marks these cases as variant pronunciations, creating a situation in which many students do not know the original pronunciation of the words they study, Su said.

Hanyu pinyin and the TLPA are almost entirely identical, since the TLPA system was derived from Hanyu pinyin by the Ministry of Education many years ago, said Lu Ching-ching (???), a member of the ministry’s Native Language Promotion Committee.

Lu said there were similarities among the three systems, and that all three have advantages and disadvantages.

The committee’s main problem was to reach a consensus and decide on one system or to incorporate the three systems into one, she said.

Discussions are still taking place at the ministry on unifying the phonetic system, Lu added.

Huang Yu-chi (???), director of the Taiwan Association for Students Abroad, said that many overseas Taiwanese return during summer and winter vacations and hope to learn their mother tongue, but the lack of a unified phonetic system makes it difficult for them to do so.

Other representatives said that not only students, but also foreigners and foreign spouses need to learn Hoklo and are in need of a unified system.

source: Culture groups urge ministry to expedite Hoklo writing rules, Taipei Times, February 23, 2006

further restrictions against language in Shanghai

China is stepping up its repression of Shanghainese, a language which, in its various forms (considering the Wu language group as a whole), is native to close to 100 million people, especially around Shanghai, China’s largest city.

According to rules announced on Wednesday, beginning next month most people in the public sector (including teachers and members of the broadcast media) must use Mandarin and no other Sinitic language when addressing the public.

Use of Shanghainese will be restricted to private conversations and special study programs, according to the Shanghai Language Works Commission.

The new rules, announced yesterday, represent the city’s first language standards. Radio and TV personalities, as well as government officials and teachers, are required to use Mandarin in their daily work.

Broadcasters can air Shanghai-dialect programming, but any new shows must be approved by the Shanghai Culture, Radio, Film and Television Administration.

“Residents of an international metropolis like Shanghai should speak Mandarin in public places, especially people in social service industries, government departments, schools and the media,” said Zhu Lei, office director of the language commission.

She said the city still needs to foster development of Shanghai dialect to preserve the city’s culture. But the use of dialect in public settings sets communications obstacles for the increasing number of migrants and foreigners.

Anyone who violates the new rule will be warned, and repeat offenders will have their names put on a blacklist.

Media outlets that launch new dialect programs without permission will be punished by the national radio and television administration.

There are now more than 10 city-based radio and TV programs broadcast in Shanghai dialect. Most are talk shows or entertainment series.

One of the channels under Shanghai Media Group tried to broadcast news in Shanghai dialect last year, but the effort was later halted for undisclosed reasons.

Lu Yunpeng, an official with the local TV and radio watchdog, said the agency will strictly control dialect-based news programs. For new entertainment shows, the administration will appoint a panel to examine proposals and determine their value.

At present, there are no plans to add new dialect programs or close down old ones.

Chen Mingfang, producer of the popular Shanghai dialect radio segment “Afugen,” said his show draws an excellent audience response. The daily program was even expanded from the original 30 minutes to an hour.

Chen, however, refused to comment on the new rules.

To that, I’d just add a few reminders:

  • In China, words like blacklist, strictly control, and punish aren’t just empty terms.
  • Although Shanghainese can be considered a dialect of Wu, calling it a dialect of “Chinese” is at best misleading. In China, the word “dialect” is used politically, not linguistically.

source: Shanghai dialect takes back seat to Mandarin, Shanghai Daily, February 23, 2006

Chinese calligraphy: ‘in memoryam’

Taiwan’s Ministry of Education has the custom of sending memorial calligraphy banners to the families of recently deceased scholars. This is roughly the equivalent of sending flowers to someone’s funeral. The banners are meant to be displayed at the memorial service. They’re usually sent under the name of the minister, who would almost never review them personally, much less write them himself.

Even so, it was an embarrassment all around when someone noticed that a scroll from the ministry that should have had the stock polite phrase 音容宛在 (yīnróngwǎnzài — “the voice and face [of the deceased] still seem here”) instead had 音容苑在 (yīn-róng yuàn zài — roughly “the voice and face [of the deceased] are in the park”).

Compare: wǎn 宛 苑 yuàn.

This wasn’t a slip in just one scroll. The exact same text was used in some one hundred such scrolls, about seven of which had already been sent out.

While I enjoy Schadenfreude as much as the next person and more than occasionally rail against government sloppiness, which this is certainly an example of, I’m not trying to play “gotcha” here. What interests me particularly about the story is what it says about the state of calligraphy. (For this entry, I’ll not bother to go into detail about how many people would be uncertain of recognizing 宛.)

It turns out that the person who did the calligraphy isn’t an artist but a security guard at the ministry. While that might sound like proof that the ancient art of calligraphy extends through all levels of society, the more accurate conclusion is likely that more or less anyone was able to get the job — he’s obviously not an expert, or he wouldn’t have made the same mistake one hundred times — because relatively few people really care much about calligraphy anymore. Certainly the Ministry of Education could have found a qualified calligrapher if it looked outside its own personnel; but it wouldn’t want to spend the money required and preferred to find someone in house. (I worked for years at a Taiwan government ministry and have seen for myself how things operate.) The people who do such tasks are almost never young. Chinese calligraphy has become a specialist pursuit, and a diminishing one at that, as calligraphers and traditionalists often note with sadness and occasionally alarm.

It may surprise some of my readers to learn that I actually love Chinese calligraphy. (For example, I’m in awe of Huai-su’s “Autobiography.”) I’ve got a large shufa in my living room. Quite a number of people have remarked on how well done it is; not one of them, however, has been able to read it. So let’s not confuse an art form — which, lest we forget, has a fine tradition, too, in plenty of places that use alphabetic scripts — with a good idea for a dominant script for a language.

sources:

romanization on Taiwan ID cards hits a snag

The addition of some Aborigine’s original names to their new national ID cards has been encountering a few problems. I didn’t think twenty characters would be enough space for some names, and I was right. The letters that won’t fit within the twenty spaces are having to be written in by hand. What’s worse, it looks like no one has bothered to give local offices any romanization guidelines for the various langauges of Taiwan’s tribes.

zuì cháng fāshēng de wèntí duō shì Luómǎ pīnyīn de yīnyì kùnrǎo jí wénzì guò cháng, yǒuxiē yuánzhùmín xìngmíng shízài hěn nán zhǎochū fāyīn xiāngjìn de Luómǎ pīnyīn.

My guess would be that lots of people are making up the romanization as they go along. Aargh!

source: Yuánzhùmín jí mínzhòng shēnqǐng huīfù míngzi huàn zhèng — wénzì guò cháng shì kùnrǎo (原住民籍民眾申請復名換證 文字過長是困擾), CNA, February 20, 2006