Taipei, Taiwan, October 10, 2008
Some news regarding this blog:
I believe language contact is a catalyst that underlies phonetic change in some instances. English is an exemplary case; consider the variable ways the place name of the capital of the PRC — Běijīng – has been pronounced by English-speaking-network-news correspondents. Some english-ize the word by articulating the initial consonant in the second syllable as voiced palatal fricative [ʒ]. Like the /dg/ in “fridge”. Other correspondents have studied how the lexical item is pronounced in Mandarin — the language from where it was diffused. Within this group, some are using the voiceless alveolo-palatal affricate [ʨ] to pronounce the initial in jīng. The affricate [ʨ] is distinguished in Mandarin Chinese, and it is the consonant used in the articulation jīng, but [ʨ] is not distinguished in English. Perhaps, after time and mass diffusion of Mandarin words, this sound will take form in the minds of English speakers as a discrete phonological unit — a phoneme. If this process occurs, then language contact would clearly be the catalyst underlying the change.
If word borrowing is to influence Mandarin Chinese phonology, Chinese orthography will need to adapt. This adaptation may take two forms. The first being the creation of new characters to represent new sounds. New characters have been created to represent new ideas — such as the chemical elements. Or secondly the current characters’ phonetic canopy could be extended to include new sounds. If neither of these take place and no other method is devised, there would be no way for new Mandarin sounds to be written down.
“Neutron”, for example, could be borrowed into Chinese using a phonetic approach. It may be transferred to “niuton” (tr –> t), because Mandarin does not allow consonant cluster. The same goes for “ion”: ion –> yion.
The borrowing of “Yion” and “ton” from “niuton” are blocked in Mandarin partly because there are no graphs available to transcribe them, not because they go against norms of Chinese phonology in any drastic way.
It would be interesting to see if there are more loan words, whose pronunciation has been simulated from their source languages, in Chinese topolects that are not written and if such topolects have a more diverse range of syllables. If so, there may be something to characters conditioning Mandarin phonology.
http://sino-platonic.org/complete/spp027_john_defrancis.pdf (links to a 100+ page pdf file)
Brother and I in Seattle (August, 2008)
Seattle area (August 2008)
Seattle area (August 2008)
Seattle area (August 2008)
Seattle area (August 2008)
Me in Seattle (August 2008)
I approached the boarding terminal and sat down. The people around me were bunched together speaking a familiar yet not entirely comprehensible language. Their childrens’ American English provided a glimpse into a unique domestic sphere wherein exists a disconnect between the native language of parents and their children; an artifact of transnational immigration. I listened in, trying to distinguish what I was hearing. Consonants and vowels began to form syllables, syllables into words. Words transmitted meaning. I tried to parse the unknown words, tagging what I thought were verbs. I began to tire. Syllables reverted back into undifferentiated noise. It was as if I removed a filter from a stream: the water continues to flow and nothing is taken out. It was the middle of the night and our flight had been delayed for several hours. The airlines brought out water and snacks. People began to swarm around the tables. The minority stood back trying to find the line. Unknown to them, one would not form. Westerners watched and waited while the Chinese distributed around the tables, sometimes three people thick, chatting while grabbing food and drink. The scene harked back to my time in China, a country where lines are not part of everyday life. The cognitive filter was replaced, but this time it was differentiating cultural units not linguistic ones; I walked around the side of the table and reached in to grab some water.
Seattle — 2007
My work at the new school has begun. I have been busy thus far: teaching 28 hours a week; lot’s of repetition, luckily. I am required to plan my lessons, which is good, but adds on the hours. The school is located in Taizhong county (台中縣) and the area’s conditions and traffic reflect this (more rural). The school, though, is nice and large — approximately 8,000 students. My students, which total over 300, are respectful and smart — they bow to me after every class.
For those of you not in the know, my trip to China was cancelled due to visa issues. I have just arrived in Taizhong (Taiwan), where I will be living and teaching for awhile. My current residence, a hostel, lacks an internet connection — what a shock!
I had to use a taxi driver to find a Starbucks. I initially asked him to take me to the nearest one, and he had never heard of it! — even though they are all over the place here. So I had him take me to a European department store (傢樂福), where of course there is one.
Anyways, Taizhong is large and wild, unlike Taipei, which is large and “organized”, and Tainan, which is medium sized and comfortable. It will probably take me awhile to find my niche here.
L.
A long time ago (pardon my laziness) the Japanese borrowed a large quantity of Chinese words through a process of calque. Calque is a linguistic term which describes a process wherein a culture translates borrowed words morpheme by morpheme in order to make new words in their target language. This process created a large number of words that appeared identical to Chinese lexemes in terms of graph shape, but whose semantic canopy differed from their source language. Many of these loan words expressed western ideas and materials that the Japanese people were increasingly encountering in conjunction with Meiji period modernization efforts.
The Meiji period changes resulted in Japan’s acceptance as a modern society by western leaders. Since no other Asian culture had shown such “progress”, Japanese modernization was attributed to a cultural trait that inherently made them capable of success whilst discursively separating them from other Asian cultures. Japan’s government believed that the rest of East Asia could reach modernity through Japanese guidance. This belief materialized as colonization.
China’s inability to prevent colonization and compete culturally with Japan instilled feelings of lack. Chinese intellectuals and politicians believed that a restoration of cultural strength and an ability to maintain sovereignty required China to modernize. The Chinese language was a central component in this effort.
During this time, Chinese intellectuals concluded that the Chinese language was a barrier that was not only blocking contemporary efforts but was also partly responsible for past failures. Some believed that the language should be eradicated. But many thought that updating its lexicon needed to commence before any radical changes were possible. Chinese intellectuals looked to Japanese for a source of western words, because many of the loan words that had been borrowed from Chinese had come to represent western ideas while preserving sinitic phonological and morphological constraints. Japan was also a natural model for Chinese modernization efforts, for it was the only Asian nation to have entered western-defined modernity.
The Japanese borrowed Chinese words morpheme by morpheme, but changed the words’ meanings, which created compound words — words whose meaning is greater than the sum of their parts (”hot dog”). Since these compound words were built with Chinese loan words, they could be written with the same characters in Japanese as they were in Chinese. Overtime and immense cultural change, the Chinese borrowed these same words, which shifted the semantic canopies of a great deal of native Chinese lexemes nearly instantly.
It’s as if the Japanese language was a word factory; the Chinese sent their words out and they returned with new meanings. I wonder how the Chinese people adapted to this change. Perhaps it lead to a status bifurcation between the educated classes and the peasants — the educated could operate with a prestige language to which the common man had no access. Maybe this social separation, combined with a bifurcation in economic and educational opportunities, is what fueled dissatisfaction within the peasant classes. And as we know, the communist revolution’s strength was its strong peasant following. This following was built around a promise of equality. Perhaps language change influenced political change.
Here are some examples taken from: Victor H. Mair, “East Asian Round-Trip Words”
All of my knowledge regarding East Asian political, cultural and linguistic history has been acquired through sporadic self-study; please take my contextualization and assumptions with a grain of salt.
I just returned from a trip to Gaoxiong (Gao1xiong2). It was one of the more enjoyable days in recent memory. Gaoxiong is a port located between the southern most cities of Taiwan and Tainan. Its port has attracts substantial capital and goods, making it not only Taiwan’s second largest city, but also designed with modernity as a framework: a new MRT system (subway), high-speed rail station, wide roads, buses, impressive buildings, museums, sidewalks, and a plethora of parks make up its urban. The climate is hot and humid, even by Taiwanese standards.
My previous trips to Gaoxiong were for business and were less than enjoyable: I was met with construction, dirt, and unbearably hot weather. This time, I left with an optimistic outlook: my friend had planned the trip and her practical approach ensured a good time. We left Tainan around 10:00 AM. Our plan was to catch the 10:30 train to Gaoxiong, then visit some parks and have lunch in the early afternoon. Later we would go to Middle Mountain University, followed by a night market on an island a short ferry ride away.
Our late morning and early afternoon was spent walking around visiting parks and spots of significance. We took the new MRT, and I was struck by its no-nonsense approach; no drinking or eating in the station or in the train, tickets take the form of composite coins that must be deposited upon exit for reuse, and everything is accurately translated into English. There are outer doors that open into the trains in tandem with the trains’ doors, and the outer doors are composed of semi-transparent reflective glass, so while you are waiting for the train you are routinely confronted with your own reflection.
After lunch and a bit of waiting around, we took a bus to Middle Mountain University (zhong1 shan1da4xue2). The entrance into the campus is a quarter-mile-long tunnel that cuts through a hill. Once through the tunnel you will step into a geographical interface between mountains, the coast, and the university’s campus. A genuinely wonderful place; lots of trees, basketball courts that are next to the beach, forested hills, and trails and steps leading to the tops of hills, from which comprehensive views of the campus, the wider area, and Gaoxiong at large can be enjoyed. We walked around the campus a bit while eating some bread-like snacks. Eventually we came onto a road bordered on its left by a vegetation covered hill and to its right by some brush followed by the beach. From our left, out of the brush covered hill, walked a monkey in the direction of my friend. Its gait was direct and swift. It crossed the street and was about six feet from my friend when she threw her bread to the side. The monkey realigned its path towards the bread, ate it immediately, and then stared at us. Some people shouted out hou2zi, the Chinese word for monkey, and began to take its picture. I’ll never forget the Chinese word for monkey!
After our encounter with the monkey, and a bit of sightseeing from the top of a hill, we walked down into a bay-side district. The district is built around a horseshoe-shaped dock, and is dense in terms of people and buildings. A ferry terminal was built at one end of the dock. Leading away from the ferry terminal is a street that was filled with scooters and pedestrians. Both sides of the street were taken up by restaurants, tea shops, and the like. We sat down and had dinner on that street: a variety of edibles that were cooked in a brown colored soup; the edibles are taken out of the soup and served on a plate; the soup is not consumed. I’m not sure what it’s called, but since eating it I have spotted it around Tainan. After dinner we took a ferry ride to a nearby island. The view from the ferry was nice: Gaoxiong’s port and downtown were easily visible as well as the community immediately surrounding us. The view of downtown from this vantage point reminded me of the view of Seattle’s downtown from Alki beach.
At the moment of exiting the ferry, we arrived at an entrance to a bustling night market. At this time it was fairly dark, and the lights of the market glowed intensely. The sight combined with the ocean air was relaxing. It was one of those moments when I was happy to be in Asia. This night market is different from the others I have visited in that it is on a road. This made for a borderless mixture of pedestrians, traffic, and road-side shops. After walking for awhile I became quite uncomfortable and overwhelmed by the traffic, noise, and combination of dark and light, especially the lights of oncoming traffic. Not knowing how to communicate my feelings in Chinese, I just walked to a beach ahead of us and we watched the ships waiting for their turn to enter Gaoxiong’s main port. We walked around a bit more, and then took varies modes of transportation back to Tainan.
Louis
5.4.08
