more on Beijing’s English and Pinyin signage

The plan to mix Pinyin and English on signage in Beijing is now official.

Orientations in road names should be in English, such as “MAIJIAPU East Rd.” This is unless it is part of the actual name, like “BEIWEI Rd.” [The “bei” in Beiwei means “north.”] However, road names starting with orientations should have them in initials only, for example, “E. CHANG’AN Ave.”

This regulation is the first part of a campaign to standardize English translations on public signs in Beijing. The campaign will extend to all tourist spots, commercial and cultural facilities, museums, subways, sports centers and hospitals in the city, the report said.

The use of “avenue” will be restricted for the time being to Chang’an Ave., Ping’an Ave, and Liangguang Ave.

A few terms will go untranslated: hutong (alley), li (lane), qu (district), and yuan (garden). Such terms are viewed as embodying Beijing’s culture (tǐxiàn Běijīng chéngshì wénhuà tèsè); the articles didn’t mention, however, that hutong is a loan word from Mongolian.

A few old standards will remain. “Tsinghua University” will remain as such; but road signs will read, for example, Qinghua South Rd.

sources:

UN to drop traditional Chinese characters: report

The other day at the meeting Zhou Youguang spoke at, a PRC official announced that beginning in 2008 the United Nations will cease issuing any material in traditional Chinese characters. Only versions in “simplified” characters will be released, he said.

I hadn’t known the U.N. was still using traditional characters at all.

JOHNNY DePP AND CHINeSe CHARACTeRS

cover of 'Corpse Bride' in ChineseThe cover for the DVD for Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride (Dìyù Xīnniáng / 地獄新娘 / “Hell Bride”) has what for me is an arresting usage: the roman letter “e” has been incorporated into a Chinese character.

Tim Burton's ['Corpse Bride'] -- in Chinese characters

At first I thought this substitution of “e” for the 日 portion of the shì (是) phonetic element of 提 (tí) might be meant as playfully phonetic itself: “Teem” Burton, of sorts.

提姆波頓
Tímǔ Bōdùn

But then I noticed how Johnny Depp’s name was written:
Johnny Depp's name in Chinese characters

There’s that e again. But this case, the character, 普, which also has its 日 element replaced, doesn’t have a long e sound in its pronunciation:

強尼戴普
Qiángní Dàipǔ

“Daipu”? That sounds like a portmanteau for what’s found in dirty diapers. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist.)

So it was just a case of a designer having fun. The e has no phonetic function here.

But there’s something else interesting about how Johnny Depp’s name is written. The first character, 強, takes more strokes to write in its so-called simplified form than in traditional Chinese characters.

traditional (11 strokes) 強 强 “simplified” (12 strokes)

Zhou Youguang on 50th anniversary of simplified characters, etc.

Here’s the text of a speech by Zhou Youguang on the fiftieth anniversaries (but not to the day) of the scheme for “simplifying” Chinese characters and of the national directive on the popularization of Mandarin. I don’t share his enthusiasm for these. But, given his vital and clear-sighted work on Hanyu Pinyin, I’d be happy to publicize his views on just about anything.

And the fact that he’s still giving speeches at the age of 101 is nothing short of phenomenal.

Gèwèi lǐngdǎo, nǚshìmen, xiānshengmen:
Jīntiān wǒmen qìngzhù Guówùyuàn gōngbù 《Hànzì Jiǎnhuà Fāng’àn》 hé 《guānyú tuīguǎng Pǔtōnghuà de zhǐshì》50 zhōunián. 1956 nián Guówùyuàn gōngbù 《Hànzì Jiǎnhuà Fāng’àn》 hé 《guānyú tuīguǎng Pǔtōnghuà de zhǐshì》, dào xiànzài yǐ 50 nián le. Zhè 50 nián, shì wǒguó “yǔwén shēnghuó xiàndàihuà” fāzhǎn zuì kuài de shíqī, Hànzì de guīfànhuà hé Pǔtōnghuà de tuīguǎng qǔdé le qiánsuǒwèiyǒu de jìnzhǎn. 2000 nián gōngbù 《guójiā tōngyòng yǔyán wénzì fǎ》, zǒngjié guòqù, kāizhǎn wèilái, shǐ wǒguó yǔwén shēnghuó màixiàng xìnxī huà shídài.
Guīfàn Hànzì, bāokuò jiǎnhuàzì hé chuánchéng zì, zài wǒguó dàlù yǐjing tōngxíng, xiǎoxué jiàoshī shuō, jiǎnhuàzì hǎo jiāo, xiǎoxuéshēng róngyì rèn, róngyì xiě. Zài diànnǎo píngmù shàng jiǎnhuàzì yuèdú qīngxī, Liánhéguó de Zhōngwén wénjiàn zhǔnbèi yīlǜ yòng dàlù de guīfàn jiǎn Hànzì. Xǔduō zhǒng gǔdài shūji yǐjing fānyì chéng báihuàwén. Gǎi yìn guīfàn Hànzì. Jiǎnhuà bù fáng’ài shūfǎ yìshù, shūshèng Wáng Xīzhī jīngcháng xiě jiǎnhuàzì, shū-huà yìshù fēn shíyòng shūfǎ hé chún guānshǎng shūfǎ, shíyòng shūfǎ lìrú zhāopai yāoqiú dàzhòng néng kàndǒng, yíyú yòng guīfàn Hànzì. Yínháng jìlù de diànnǎohuà, fāshēng xìngmíng shēngpì zì bùbiàn shūrù diànnǎo hé zhuǎnzhàng, jīnhòu xìngmíng yòngzì yīngdāng yǐ tōngyòng Hànzì wéixiàn. Yī ge 13 yì rénkǒu de dàguó, guòqù duōshù rénmín dōu shì wénmáng, jīntiān dàduōshù rénmín zhèngzài jiēshòu jīchǔ jiàoyù, zhè shì wǒguó wénhuà lìshǐ de jùdà biànhuà.
Pǔtōnghuà shì Hàn mínzú de gòngtóngyǔ hé Zhōngguó de guójiā gòngtóngyǔ, tuīguǎng guójiā gòngtóngyǔ shì gōngyèhuà hé xìnxī huà de xūyào, chángqīyǐlái, tuīguǎng gōngzuò chíchí bù qián. Xiànzài, chuánshēng jìshù tūfēiměngjìn, guǎngbō, diànshì, yídòng diànhuà děngdeng, bāngzhù tuī-pǔ gōngzuò kuàisù fāzhǎn. Quánguó xuéxiào yuèláiyuè duō yǐ Pǔtōnghuà wéi xiàoyuán yǔyán. Gōngzhòng huódòng yuèláiyuè duō yǐ Pǔtōnghuà wéi gòngtóng méijiè. Rén-Dà, Zhèng-Xié yǐ Pǔtōnghuà zuòwéi huìyì yǔyán, gěi quánguó shùlì bǎngyàng. Xǔduō dà chéngshì rénkǒu měngzēng, wǔfāngzáchǔ, zhèngzài fāshēng “dàdūhuì huà” de yǎnbiàn, dàdūhuì xūyào yǐ Pǔtōnghuà wéi rìcháng yòngyǔ.
“Yányǔ yì shēng, wénzì yìxíng” de shídài jíjiāng guòqù, “shūtóngwén, yǔ tóngyīn” de shídài chū xiànzài wǒmen de miànqián, zài quánqiúhuà de 21 shìjì, Zhōngguó jiāng yǐ yī ge xiàndài wénmíng de dàguó yìlì yú shìjiè. Xièxie.

The source also has several nice photos of Zhou.

source: 组图:百岁语言文字学家周有光谈汉字, March 22, 2006

if people keep using Pinyin input, China will die, says Wubi-input inventor

Wang Yongmin (Wáng Yǒngmín, 王永民), the developer of the much hyped “Wubi” input method for Chinese characters, seems to get a bit more shrill each time he has a chance to make it into the papers. The Wubi Chinese character input method works by assembling characters based on the shapes of elements within characters.

Here’s something from a recent rant:

近日,五笔字型的发明者——王永民教授在中国科学院研究生院演讲时发表了这样的观点。

王永民认为,汉字的形是“身”,汉字的音是“衣”;“弃形留音”等于“舍身取衣”。拼音输入离开了对汉字造字元素的直接思考和运用,汉字必然将因此而形神俱灭,汉字本身所固有的文化遗传基因,将因此而丧失殆尽。

王永民认为,从文化意义上说,中华民族的伟大复兴也是汉字文化的伟大复兴,没有汉字,就没有中华民族。他指出,汉字和汉语拼音的主辅关系是早有定论的。

source: Wáng Yǒngmín: Pīnyīn shūrù shì Hànzì wénhuà de jué [fen]mù jī[qi] (王永民:拼音输入是汉字文化的掘墓机), Science Web, March 17, 2006

China to enact rules on characters in personal names: PRC official

China plans to impose limits on the Chinese characters that may be used in personal names, according to Bao Suixian, deputy director of the Public Security Management Bureau under the PRC Ministry of Public Security. I regard this as a step in the right direction.

[Bao] said the aim is to standardize names of Chinese citizens, and especially “reduce the incidence of rarely-used characters.”

But how big the database will be or when the draft will be completed was not disclosed. (China Daily)

A June 2005 article in a Taiwan magazine reports, “In [the] future, names in mainland China will be restricted to a choice of 12,000 characters.” If that’s at all reliable, I suspect the number would be derived from China’s now-outdated GB 2312-1980 character set (7,445 characters, 6,763 of which are Hanzi) plus the 4,600 “supplemental characters” being added. A project at Peking University compiled the latter list of obscure characters from names throughout the country.

Bào Suìxiàn biǎoshì, jìn 3 niánlái, Běi-Dà fāngzhèng zìkù yǐ cóng quánguó gèdì sōují dào 4,600 ge lěngpì zì, mùqián, quánguó gè zhì zhèng zhōngxīn zhèng ānzhuāng lěngpì zì ruǎnjiàn, ruǎnjiàn kāigōng hòu, yuánlái yīn lěngpì zì méiyǒu lǐngdào shēnfen zhèngjiàn de gōngmín, duǎnqī nèi kěyǐ lǐngdào xīn zhèng. (Beijing News)

But even with 4,600 more characters — a list more than two-thirds the size of the original — the list isn’t big enough. Beijing officials have already run up against 231 characters that still aren’t covered by the new system. There are sure to be even more.

I should probably note that learning 12,000 characters would require someone to have a phenomenal memory — not to mention a lot of spare time and extraordinary dedication. Almost no one in all of China knows that many characters. The percentage of those who know even half that amount would be in the low single digits. Literacy, for the majority of the population, is defined as knowing as few as 1,500 characters; but the figures for those who know even that relatively low number are greatly exaggerated.

Chinese parents usually choose the second and/or third characters for their babies, but “strong,” “smart,” and “wise” for boys; and “pretty,” “quiet,” and “lovely” for girls are popular, so overlapping names are common.

I’ll let those with feminist blogs handle that one.

Figures from nationwide household registration departments show that about 100,000 Chinese share the name “Wang Tao.”

The popularity of assigning single-syllable given names is a real problem.

To avoid such situations, some parents choose names from the gigantic Kang Hsi Dictionary that lists 50,000 characters while the largest standard computer database contains only 27,000.

Such names, which are unrecognizable by computers, have caused inconvenience to about 60 million Chinese in their daily lives, especially when they travel, register in hotels or open bank accounts, the ministry said.

Names with rarely-used characters also hinder a nationwide programme to replace the first-generation identity cards with intelligent, computer-read cards, Bao said.

At least 40,000 Beijing residents whose names cannot be recognized by computers have not got new ID cards since the replacement exercise started in 2004, according to the city’s public security bureau.

The updated ID cards, with advanced anti-forgery and printing features, include an electronic chip to store personal information from computers. “So we cannot handwrite rarely-used characters on the cards like we did before,” Bao said.

(emphasis added)

Below is an anecdote from Taiwan. It refers to a man who changed his name to one having particularly obscure characters. This was to improve his luck and his parents’ health.

Having a name that can’t be entered into a computer because the characters are not in the standard character set has also caused him considerable headaches. His most vivid memory is of getting sick in the middle of the night and going to an emergency ward, where unfortunately the nurse on duty had never seen the two strange characters before and was unable to enter his name into the computer as he rolled on the floor in pain. In the end he had to plead with her to give him an injection for the pain and then discuss the name problem later.

Lucky name. Heh.

respect characters pavilions

photo of 'pavilion' used for burning paper with writing on it
Meinong (美濃鎮), a township in Taiwan’s Gaoxiong County, holds a ceremony on the ninth day of each year according to the traditional luni-solar calendar to mark respect for the written word and ask the gods to bless the area, especially its farms. Meinong is traditionally a Hakka region.

In the ceremony, items such as old books that might normally be thrown away are instead burned in special structures known as jing zi ting (敬字亭 / [zūn]jìng [Hàn]zì tíng[zi] / “respect characters pavilions”), also known as xizi ting (xīzì tíng[zi] / “treat written paper with respect pavilions”). These structures, which are officially recognized as important cultural relics, date back to the latter half of the eighteenth century. The ashes are combined with the ashes of other written-word items burned over the previous year in the jing zi ting and, after various fanfare, ceremonially dumped in the local river.

This is related to the notion of jìngxī zìzhǐ (敬惜字紙/敬惜字纸 — “cherish paper with writing on it”).

This year, related activities included a contest to see which children would be the fastest to find certain characters in the dictionary. Such contests are not uncommon in Taiwan, where looking up something in a dictionary can be a real chore.

sources:

And here are some genizah (גניזה)-related links for lagniappe:

pigpen principles

Newspapers and magazines have so much misinformation about Chinese characters that I seldom bother to mention specific instances. But I expect better than this from the New York Times, even though this is but soft news:

The two designers chose 20 stellar examples of a concept defined by the Japanese ideogram katei. It is the joining of two symbols — ka being house and tei being garden — that defines home in Japanese.

Oy. First, katei is not written with one “ideogram” [sic] but two Chinese characters / kanji:

家庭

(Somebody help me out if I got that wrong. I don’t know Japanese.) In Mandarin this is jiātíng, meaning “family.” Nishikawa Yūko has a long discussion about notions of katei in “The Modern Japanese Family System: unique or universal?” (Multicultural Japan. Palaeolithic to Postmodern. Donald Denoon, Mark Hudson, Gavan McCormack, and Tessa Morris-Suzuki, eds. Cambridge University Press, pp. 224-232).

Second, Chinese characters / kanji do not represent an ideographic form of writing.

Third, the Japanese language is not defined by symbols. Language comes first, writing later.

Fourth, calling Chinese characters “symbols” is at best problematic; this is part of what feeds the ideographic myth. (See the second point.)

I’m all for good design, but it shouldn’t be explained in terms of myths. Otherwise, perhaps architects and interior designers should be putting functioning pigpens inside houses, or at least a little covered shrine to a pig. After all, if we’re going to be guided by how characters look, is not the very essence of “home” (家) in Japan and China defined by having a pig (豕) under a roof (宀)?

source: Homes and Gardens, Living in Harmony, New York Times, March 9, 2006