June 27, 2019
The ear of the beholder
A cuss word is a cuss word because it violates a social norm. If you don't comprehend a cuss word it arouses no emotional response unless it is tied to a tone of voice or observable physical affect. Even a cuss word in a foreign language you do understand likely lacks same emotional impact as in your first language.That's because the cuss word itself contains no relevant information outside the immediate sociolinguistic context. The popular fallacy that "there aren't any cuss words in Japanese" is due to a fundamental disconnect over what constitutes an offensive violation of social norms.
English speakers really are obsessed with "manners," meaning the visible and audible markers of public propriety. These words are "good"; those words are "bad." The words themselves are magically imbued with certain qualities that otherwise mean nothing until filtered through a specific sets of brains.
Stop to think about it and it is utterly strange that the FCC deems "crap" and "dung" acceptable but not "shit." One could argue as well that nobody really cusses in English either. We play games with semantics and pretend to take offense until the offense-taking becomes so imbued that it goes unquestioned.
One curious consequence is that most Shakespearean vulgarities do not offend modern ears because we haven't been to trained to take offense when we hear them. They're just funny-sounding words delivered with a British accent. You know, like Monty Python.
In Japanese, fewer words are "bad" in and of themselves. Rather, a "vulgarity" violates a social hierarchy or crosses the line from acceptable private usage to unacceptable public usage, or from a "high" to a "low" usage. So whether kuso means "crap" or "shit" depends entirely on the social context.
To be sure, some words are inherently offensive for the same reasons they are in English. The "c" word, for example. Then again, the equivalent medical term (for the most part) isn't.
And then there are words like teme, one of the myriad of second-person pronouns in Japanese. Teme is the "low brow" equivalent of kisama, the latter being preferred by a more gentile class of cusser. You would be right to conclude that using teme in a "high brow" context is even ruder.
Teme is a linguistic finger jabbed in your face. It's violation of social hierarchies. This flies over the head of English speakers because English (American English in particular) shed the T–V distinction a while back. The tables in this Wikipedia article apply equally well to Japanese.
In Japanese, T–V distinctions also permeate verb conjugations. As with the quite ordinary shinu ("to die"), the command form is a particularly harsh and a yakuza-ish thing to say. Because what makes a yakuza a yakuza is less the substance of what they say than how they say it.
To start with, they get in your face and invade your personal space. And they roll their Rs. I mean, really roll their Rs. A yakuza does so in an instantly recognizable manner, identifying his social class and lack of normal social constraints. The message: "I'm a scary person who could do anything."
This unpredictability and disrespect for social order is the eternal wellspring of "honest" vulgarity.
Labels: anime, honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies
April 25, 2013
Tonan no Tsubasa (27)
When Shushou says to Kiwa, "If you don't have the courage to go back for your own" (page 263), she uses the pronoun anta, an informal reduction of anata applied only to social inferiors. Everywhere else, she uses "Shitsu-san."
In Japanese, common personal pronouns are never used to address social superiors (unless to insult them), so this starkly reveals Shushou's contempt for the man. A paragraph later, she again refers to him as "Shitsu-san."
Wikipedia has a nice compendium of Japanese personal pronouns.
In Japanese, common personal pronouns are never used to address social superiors (unless to insult them), so this starkly reveals Shushou's contempt for the man. A paragraph later, she again refers to him as "Shitsu-san."
Wikipedia has a nice compendium of Japanese personal pronouns.
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies, tonan
February 13, 2012
It sounded like a good idea
Taken offense takes many forms. Japanese very often simply do not get the English concept of "vulgarity" as it relates to language, hilariously illustrated here. And for reasons other than meanings getting lost in translation.
Take the ubiquitous kuso. It translates as "(bull)crap" or "(bull)shit," depending on whether it's uttered by a kid or a gangster. Why, a Japanese might logically ask, have two words that mean exactly the same thing?
Though if you're referring to what bears do in the woods, it's fun (rhymes with "spoon").
As Peter Payne points out, only the "c" word is guaranteed to be bleeped. Widely self-censored is the old word (穢多) for Japan's feudal outcasts, which has since gone through a rigorous "euphemism treadmill."
(A fascinating parenthetical about the evolution of the latter can be found here.)
I saw a interview with Brad Pitt on NHK, accompanied by an excerpt from Moneyball that included several expletives the FCC would frown upon. Nothing was bleeped. (Often true of foreign coverage involving bleep-worthy expletives.)
Why should they be? There's nothing intrinsically offensive about a collection of phonemes (as opposed to certain bodily noises). Japanese are drawn to them for the same reason NBA stars tattoo kanji on their forearms.
Because it's cool!
In this case, the phonemes were intended as an (all things considered, pretty clever) alliterative pun on fukubukuro ("lucky bag"). A fukubukuro is a grab bag of overstocked items sold at a steep discount on New Year's Day.
Take the ubiquitous kuso. It translates as "(bull)crap" or "(bull)shit," depending on whether it's uttered by a kid or a gangster. Why, a Japanese might logically ask, have two words that mean exactly the same thing?
Though if you're referring to what bears do in the woods, it's fun (rhymes with "spoon").
As Peter Payne points out, only the "c" word is guaranteed to be bleeped. Widely self-censored is the old word (穢多) for Japan's feudal outcasts, which has since gone through a rigorous "euphemism treadmill."
(A fascinating parenthetical about the evolution of the latter can be found here.)
I saw a interview with Brad Pitt on NHK, accompanied by an excerpt from Moneyball that included several expletives the FCC would frown upon. Nothing was bleeped. (Often true of foreign coverage involving bleep-worthy expletives.)
Why should they be? There's nothing intrinsically offensive about a collection of phonemes (as opposed to certain bodily noises). Japanese are drawn to them for the same reason NBA stars tattoo kanji on their forearms.
Because it's cool!
In this case, the phonemes were intended as an (all things considered, pretty clever) alliterative pun on fukubukuro ("lucky bag"). A fukubukuro is a grab bag of overstocked items sold at a steep discount on New Year's Day.
Related posts
Yobisute
More about pronouns
Labels: culture, honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies
December 01, 2011
Yobisute
Early on, Ryô is actually a lot more condescending than it sounds to western ears.
Namely, she refers to everybody by name alone, while Sen dutifully applies the expected honorifics, -dono (the period equivalent of -san) in the case of Koreya (only the vilest opponent didn't deserve grudging respect) and "Lord" (-sama) with everybody else she regards as her social "better."
Ryô's liberal use of yobisute (呼び捨て), literally "call" + "throw away," is a way for her to assert her superiority (whether deserved or not).
It's still considered rude to address one's superiors by name alone, let alone with a bare pronoun. This includes family members. A scene from the NHK historical drama Gô springs to mind, in which the three amazing nieces of Oda Nobunaga meet after several years apart.
Here's how the dialogue begins:
Revealed here is their familial status based on age. Yodo is the oldest, Gô the youngest. These sociolinguistic rules have barely budged in four hundred years. That exchange would be almost the same today (except for a more sparing use of the honorific sama).
In Scrapped Princess, for example (which takes place in a fictional alternate universe, not Japan), Pacifica consistently appends ni-san (big brother) or ne-san (big sister) to the names of her (older) step-siblings.
As Peter Payne puts it, relationships in Japan are vertical. Students address teachers as Sensei, lower classmen address upper classmen as Senpai, never by their first names. In a teen romance, you know things are moving to the next level when yobisute kicks in.
Namely, she refers to everybody by name alone, while Sen dutifully applies the expected honorifics, -dono (the period equivalent of -san) in the case of Koreya (only the vilest opponent didn't deserve grudging respect) and "Lord" (-sama) with everybody else she regards as her social "better."
Ryô's liberal use of yobisute (呼び捨て), literally "call" + "throw away," is a way for her to assert her superiority (whether deserved or not).
It's still considered rude to address one's superiors by name alone, let alone with a bare pronoun. This includes family members. A scene from the NHK historical drama Gô springs to mind, in which the three amazing nieces of Oda Nobunaga meet after several years apart.
Here's how the dialogue begins:
| Yodo Hatsu Gô | Hatsu, Gô. O-ne-sama, Gô. O-ne-sama, O-ne-sama. |
Revealed here is their familial status based on age. Yodo is the oldest, Gô the youngest. These sociolinguistic rules have barely budged in four hundred years. That exchange would be almost the same today (except for a more sparing use of the honorific sama).
In Scrapped Princess, for example (which takes place in a fictional alternate universe, not Japan), Pacifica consistently appends ni-san (big brother) or ne-san (big sister) to the names of her (older) step-siblings.
As Peter Payne puts it, relationships in Japan are vertical. Students address teachers as Sensei, lower classmen address upper classmen as Senpai, never by their first names. In a teen romance, you know things are moving to the next level when yobisute kicks in.
Labels: honorifics, japanese culture, language, serpent notes, serpent of time, taiga drama
September 20, 2008
Chapter 4 (Jougetsu)
蒲蘇 [ほそ] Hoso (bulrush + revived)
In Japan, the koseki (戸籍), or local census record, is where all of a person's demographic information is recorded and constantly updated. You don't legally exist without a koseki record.
"Hearing Shoukei referred to in such a familiar manner . . . . " The word here is yobisute (呼び捨て), literally "call" + "throw away." It means addressing a person of elevated status without the accompanying honorific prefix, such as -san or -sama, and suggests either rudeness or intimacy.
The most common way immortal life is bestowed is by having one's name listed in the Registry of Wizards. In chapter 2 of A Thousand Leagues of Wind, Shoukei is punished by having her name removed from the Registry of Wizards.
In Japan, the koseki (戸籍), or local census record, is where all of a person's demographic information is recorded and constantly updated. You don't legally exist without a koseki record.
"Hearing Shoukei referred to in such a familiar manner . . . . " The word here is yobisute (呼び捨て), literally "call" + "throw away." It means addressing a person of elevated status without the accompanying honorific prefix, such as -san or -sama, and suggests either rudeness or intimacy.
The most common way immortal life is bestowed is by having one's name listed in the Registry of Wizards. In chapter 2 of A Thousand Leagues of Wind, Shoukei is punished by having her name removed from the Registry of Wizards.
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, kasho
April 27, 2007
O mi casa
I started encountering the word "omikase" here and there (such as on the Althouse blog) in connection with Japanese restaurants. The meaning was obvious from context and it certainly looked like a Japanese word. My brain was immediately convinced it was legit. Except that it's not Japanese.
The "o" is obviously an honorific, but then what the heck is "mikase"? Okay, "mi" is an honorific too, so it could mean the really, really honorable "kase" (shackles).
I asked a Japanese friend and she pointed out that the intended word was "omakase" (お任せ), meaning "leave it to me" or "surprise me." Doh! Of course! This was, she added, another case of a Japanese word--like karaoke or harakiri--getting mangled in English.
These two examples additionally point to an interesting phonological phenomenon. We see that in each of these four-syllable words, in the second syllable the consonant + /ah/ has shifted to consonant + /i/ (and the first syllable from consonant + /ah/ to consonant + /eh/).
My theory is that Standard American English always wants to push back vowels forward, palatalizing and nasalizing them, especially when followed by labial consonants such as /r/ or /m/. Pronouncing "hara" or "kara" with an American /r/ is actually quite difficult. (The Japanese /r/ is closer to an /l/.)
But this also explains why Midland American English dialects dropped the quintessential /ah/ inherited from British English. (Southern dialects are another question.)
But why "omikase" did sound so natural to me? Then it struck me: it's the honorific "o" with "mi casa" (御ミカサ). Or "my honorable home." Perfect Japanese! Except it's Spanish! Well, one of the most common foreign words in Japanese is "pan," which was imported from Jesuit missionaries in the 16th century. So here's a new one.
The "o" is obviously an honorific, but then what the heck is "mikase"? Okay, "mi" is an honorific too, so it could mean the really, really honorable "kase" (shackles).
I asked a Japanese friend and she pointed out that the intended word was "omakase" (お任せ), meaning "leave it to me" or "surprise me." Doh! Of course! This was, she added, another case of a Japanese word--like karaoke or harakiri--getting mangled in English.
These two examples additionally point to an interesting phonological phenomenon. We see that in each of these four-syllable words, in the second syllable the consonant + /ah/ has shifted to consonant + /i/ (and the first syllable from consonant + /ah/ to consonant + /eh/).
omakase (o-mah-kah-seh) omikase harakiri (harah kiri) heri keri karaoke (karah okay) keri oki
My theory is that Standard American English always wants to push back vowels forward, palatalizing and nasalizing them, especially when followed by labial consonants such as /r/ or /m/. Pronouncing "hara" or "kara" with an American /r/ is actually quite difficult. (The Japanese /r/ is closer to an /l/.)
But this also explains why Midland American English dialects dropped the quintessential /ah/ inherited from British English. (Southern dialects are another question.)
But why "omikase" did sound so natural to me? Then it struck me: it's the honorific "o" with "mi casa" (御ミカサ). Or "my honorable home." Perfect Japanese! Except it's Spanish! Well, one of the most common foreign words in Japanese is "pan," which was imported from Jesuit missionaries in the 16th century. So here's a new one.
Labels: honorifics, japanese, language
April 22, 2007
"Shadow of the Moon" revisions
A loyal reader has been reviewing the TokyoPop edition of Shadow of the Moon and had a few questions about differences in the translations. I haven't read the book myself, so I only address myself to these specific concerns.
Not surprisingly, most of the problems are in Part 1, Chapter 4. Looking back through my notes, I see that I started Shadow of the Moon over three years ago. I translated part 1 and then put it aside for several months before resuming where I left off. So this is the first time I've reviewed it carefully.
I did make some silly mistakes. On the other hand, the middle-aged brain is apparently capable of learning something in three years.
Chapter 1/4
1) "Feet" is preferred to "legs." But the parenthetical, "as if in some foreign gesture of respect," is not in the original. And it's a strange parenthetical, as the gesture would not be all that "foreign" to Youko. What's surprising to her is that it's being done by someone who appears to be her social superior.
An example can be found in the action movie Boukoku no Aegis (pretty much a clone of Under Siege and The Rock), in which a navy commander does almost the same thing, debasing himself before a police officer to keep his shipmates from getting locked up for causing a brawl.
2) Here I think the TokyoPop translator has mistaken the arch of the foot for the instep. The important clause is 「足の甲に額を当てる」lit.: "touch forehead to instep of foot." 「足の甲」 is defined as the "arched upper surface of the human foot between the toes and the ankle."
From Yoshie Omura's invaluable Twelve Kingdoms glossary, he describes the rite as follows: 王が「許す」と言うと、麒麟は王の足の甲に額（角）を当てる。すると王は神となる。[When the empress says "I accede," the Kirin touches the instep of the empress's foot with his forehead (horn). Upon doing so, the empress becomes a god.]
3) The literal translation is: "The amazed Youko nodded despite herself."
4) I remember debating the verb "allow" (許す). True, it doesn't really work, but I don't like "accept" (which TokyoPop uses) either. I think "accede" is better, since Keiki is really asking Youko to "accede (or yield) to his demands" rather than to "accept" them.
But I did mis-attribute Youko's "I accede" to Keiki. Japanese can be frustrating in how dialogue attribution is marked, but this one wasn't confusing at all. (Like I said, three years ago . . . . )
5) Keiki refers to Youko as "Gozen" (ゴゼン), which can be translated as "Your Excellency," or "you," depending on context and time period. The consensus so far seems to be the former. During WWII, meetings with the emperor about critical matters of state were known as "gozen conferences" (御前会議).
Keiki's entourage consistently refers to Youko using honorific language, which makes it clear to the reader that they don't consider her an ordinary person.
6) I completed missed the "through" clause in this sentence:
Chapter 1/8
Referring to the jewel, I honestly have no idea where I got the plural from. All references (including accompanying pronouns and verbs) should be singular: chapters 8, 9, 14, 15, 16, 17, 21, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 43, 44, 46, 66 (sigh).
Chapter 4/9
Another dumb error. Should be:
TokyoPop also makes the error I did of using the pronoun "she," which conflicts with the "sir" (or "mister") the child uses, believing she is a boy. Better: "It wouldn't stay down."
The online and offline browser versions have been updated.
A note about romanization: In Hepburn, Youko would be written Yōko (or Yôko) to indicate the long vowel. Except that the macron is not a standard character in English and most people don't know what it means anyway. Both long and double vowels are held two beats versus one for ordinary vowels.
More importantly, the macron doesn't discriminate between double vowels (/oo/) and long vowels (/ou/). Ask a native Japanese to slowly pronounce a long vowel, and they will articulate the /u/. So I prefer to write long vowels as "spelled" in hiragana (except for common place names; writing Tokyo as "Toukyou" would confuse people).
Discriminating between long and short vowels is probably the most difficult aspect of Japanese pronunciation. The example cited by Jack Seward is komon (顧問) and koumon (肛門). The former means "consultant," the latter means "rectum." I'll often resort to tapping out the syllables. "Yōko" is three beats: Yo-u-ko.
Not surprisingly, most of the problems are in Part 1, Chapter 4. Looking back through my notes, I see that I started Shadow of the Moon over three years ago. I translated part 1 and then put it aside for several months before resuming where I left off. So this is the first time I've reviewed it carefully.
I did make some silly mistakes. On the other hand, the middle-aged brain is apparently capable of learning something in three years.
Before she could react, he reached out and grabbed Yoko's feet--not aggressively, but submissively, as if in some foreign gesture of respect.
1) "Feet" is preferred to "legs." But the parenthetical, "as if in some foreign gesture of respect," is not in the original. And it's a strange parenthetical, as the gesture would not be all that "foreign" to Youko. What's surprising to her is that it's being done by someone who appears to be her social superior.
An example can be found in the action movie Boukoku no Aegis (pretty much a clone of Under Siege and The Rock), in which a navy commander does almost the same thing, debasing himself before a police officer to keep his shipmates from getting locked up for causing a brawl.
The man took her foot and placed it squarely on his lowered forehead.
2) Here I think the TokyoPop translator has mistaken the arch of the foot for the instep. The important clause is 「足の甲に額を当てる」lit.: "touch forehead to instep of foot." 「足の甲」 is defined as the "arched upper surface of the human foot between the toes and the ankle."
From Yoshie Omura's invaluable Twelve Kingdoms glossary, he describes the rite as follows: 王が「許す」と言うと、麒麟は王の足の甲に額（角）を当てる。すると王は神となる。[When the empress says "I accede," the Kirin touches the instep of the empress's foot with his forehead (horn). Upon doing so, the empress becomes a god.]
Yoko felt her mouth form the words.
3) The literal translation is: "The amazed Youko nodded despite herself."
4) I remember debating the verb "allow" (許す). True, it doesn't really work, but I don't like "accept" (which TokyoPop uses) either. I think "accede" is better, since Keiki is really asking Youko to "accede (or yield) to his demands" rather than to "accept" them.
But I did mis-attribute Youko's "I accede" to Keiki. Japanese can be frustrating in how dialogue attribution is marked, but this one wasn't confusing at all. (Like I said, three years ago . . . . )
5) Keiki refers to Youko as "Gozen" (ゴゼン), which can be translated as "Your Excellency," or "you," depending on context and time period. The consensus so far seems to be the former. During WWII, meetings with the emperor about critical matters of state were known as "gozen conferences" (御前会議).
Keiki's entourage consistently refers to Youko using honorific language, which makes it clear to the reader that they don't consider her an ordinary person.
6) I completed missed the "through" clause in this sentence:
Her senses reeled. She felt something coursing through her. Her vision momentarily went black. A low rumble like an earthquake shook the room. The courtyard outside the windows fell into muddy shadows.
Referring to the jewel, I honestly have no idea where I got the plural from. All references (including accompanying pronouns and verbs) should be singular: chapters 8, 9, 14, 15, 16, 17, 21, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 43, 44, 46, 66 (sigh).
Another dumb error. Should be:
"When's the last time you had anything to eat?"
Youko couldn't be bothered to come up with a number so she remained silent.
TokyoPop also makes the error I did of using the pronoun "she," which conflicts with the "sir" (or "mister") the child uses, believing she is a boy. Better: "It wouldn't stay down."
The online and offline browser versions have been updated.
A note about romanization: In Hepburn, Youko would be written Yōko (or Yôko) to indicate the long vowel. Except that the macron is not a standard character in English and most people don't know what it means anyway. Both long and double vowels are held two beats versus one for ordinary vowels.
More importantly, the macron doesn't discriminate between double vowels (/oo/) and long vowels (/ou/). Ask a native Japanese to slowly pronounce a long vowel, and they will articulate the /u/. So I prefer to write long vowels as "spelled" in hiragana (except for common place names; writing Tokyo as "Toukyou" would confuse people).
Discriminating between long and short vowels is probably the most difficult aspect of Japanese pronunciation. The example cited by Jack Seward is komon (顧問) and koumon (肛門). The former means "consultant," the latter means "rectum." I'll often resort to tapping out the syllables. "Yōko" is three beats: Yo-u-ko.
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, shadow revisions, translations
September 05, 2006
Pronouns on Friends
As it turns out, there are sites that post samizdat English-Japanese translations of Friends scripts. (Episodes of most popular American television programs are available in Japan on DVD or via satellite.) A brief exerpt from one such script reveals some interesting translation choices. For the most part, though, as you will see below, most pronouns are simply eliminated in the Japanese translation.
Several interesting translation choices occur with the first-person and second-person pronouns in the conversation between Ross and Chandler. Ross refers to himself as boku while Chandler uses ore. This is clearly based on the translator's understanding of the difference between their characters: Ross is a professor, while Chandler—although a college graduate—is "one of the boys." He used to live with Joey, after all.
The one time Chandler does refer directly to Ross, he uses his name (Rosu) rather than a pronoun, suggesting that even though they are addressing each other as equals, Chandler is elevating Ross slightly above himself.
The one time that Ross's diction matches Chandler's is when he is "threatening" him. Previously, when he says, "I need to talk to you," he uses the more neutral kimi. In this case, though, he refers to Chandler using the second-person pronoun o-mae. This "guy talk" is clearly out of character for Ross, and given Chandler's reaction, is as funny in Japanese as it is in English.
The following materials were borrowed from the LA Tokyo website.
Several interesting translation choices occur with the first-person and second-person pronouns in the conversation between Ross and Chandler. Ross refers to himself as boku while Chandler uses ore. This is clearly based on the translator's understanding of the difference between their characters: Ross is a professor, while Chandler—although a college graduate—is "one of the boys." He used to live with Joey, after all.
The one time Chandler does refer directly to Ross, he uses his name (Rosu) rather than a pronoun, suggesting that even though they are addressing each other as equals, Chandler is elevating Ross slightly above himself.
The one time that Ross's diction matches Chandler's is when he is "threatening" him. Previously, when he says, "I need to talk to you," he uses the more neutral kimi. In this case, though, he refers to Chandler using the second-person pronoun o-mae. This "guy talk" is clearly out of character for Ross, and given Chandler's reaction, is as funny in Japanese as it is in English.
The following materials were borrowed from the LA Tokyo website.
| Monica: Do you realize this is probably the last time we'll all be here in the coffee house as six single people? | ここで集まるの最後だね6人のシングルとして |
| Phoebe: Why?! What's happening to the coffee house?! (Monica looks at her.) Oh! (Realizes.) | なんで？ここがどうした？！（モニカが視線を送る）ああ（気づく） |
| Chandler: Yep! From now on it's gonna be the four of you guys and me and the misses. The little woman. The wife. The old ball and chain. | だな！これからは君達4人とオレと妻女房奥さん昔ながらの恐妻 |
| Monica: Old? | 昔ながら？ |
| Chandler: The young hot ball and chain. | 若くてセクシーな恐妻 |
| Monica: That's much better. | よろしい |
| Rachel: (checking her watch) Oh! We gotta go! (The girls stand up.) | （腕時計を見て）あ！行かなくちゃ（女性郡が立ち上がる） |
| Ross: Oh, where are you guys going? | どこ行くの？ |
| Monica: We're gonna pick up the wedding dress then we're gonna have lunch with mom. (Joey stands up.) | ドレスを受け取ってそれから母さんとランチ（ジョーイが立ち上がる） |
| Ross: Ah. Joey you're-you're having lunch with my mom? | そうかジョーイもうちの母さんと？ |
| Joey: No, I-I just heard lunch. But yeah, I can go. Sure! (They all exit.) | ただランチって聞こえたでもまあ行けるよおお！（店を出る） |
| Ross: (To Chandler) Y'know what? Actually I'm kinda glad they're leaving 'cause uh, I need to talk to you about something. | （チャンドラーに）あのさちょうどよかったかも君に話があるんだ |
| Chandler: What's up? | どうした？ |
| Ross: Well this uh, this may be a little awkward. | ちょっと言いにくいけど |
| Chandler: Listen, if you want to borrow money, it's kind of a bad time. I'm buying dinner for 128 people tomorrow night. | 金借りたいなら今日はだめ明日128人分のディナーおごりだからさ |
| Ross: No, it's…It's not that. Umm, now what I'm going to say to you, I'm not saying as your friend. Okay? I'm-I'm saying as it as Monica's older brother. | 違うあのさ今から僕が言うこと友達としてじゃないからなモニカの兄として言うぞ |
| Chandler: But you're still my friend? | でもロスはオレの友達？ |
| Ross: Not for the next few minutes. | 今から数分は違う |
| Chandler: During this time . . . are you, are you still my best man? | この数分間・・・まだオレのベストマン？ |
| Ross: Nope. | いいや |
| Chandler: Do I still call you Ross? | まだロスって呼んでいい？ |
| Ross: Okay! You guys are getting married tomorrow and-and I couldn't be more thrilled for both of you, but as Monica's older brother I-I have to tell you this. If you ever hurt my little sister, if you ever cause her any unhappiness of any kind, I will hunt you down, and kick your ass! (Chandler laughs.) What? I'm-I'm-I'm serious! (Chandler laughs harder.) Hey! Dude! Stop it! Okay? I'm-I'm not kidding here! | 君達明日結婚するわけで本当に嬉しいけどモニカの兄として言わせてもらう僕の妹を傷つけたり悲しませたりしたらお前を探し出してぶっ飛ばすからな！ （チャンドラーが笑う）何？マジだぞ！ （チャンドラーがもっと笑う）ちょっ―おい！やめろ！冗談じゃないぞ！ |
| Chandler: (smiling) Hey, I hear what you're saying, okay? And, thanks for the warning. | （笑顔で）言いたいことはわかった忠告ありがとう |
| Ross: No problem. | いいえ |
| Chandler: So are we . . . friends again? | もう友達に戻った？ |
| Ross: Yeah. | ああ |
| Chandler: Okay. (Pause) You won't believe what Monica's older brother just said to me! | おぅ（間）びっくりするぜモニカの兄に言われたこと！ |
Labels: honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies, television
August 30, 2006
More about pronouns
Going back to the beginning of Shadow of the Moon provides more context for how the relationship between Keiki and Youko has evolved grammatically over the two novels.
The first time Keiki speaks to Youko, (chapter 4), he omits the pronoun. In his next sentence, he says, "It is you." Here he uses the familiar but fairly neutral anata. When he says in frustration, "Must you be so obstinate!" he again omits the pronoun. In the next paragraph, when he asks, "Is not your life precious to you? Then allow me to do what I must," he omits the pronoun and attaches an honorific (おっしゃる) to "allow me," literally, "I'm asking you please to allow me."
In chapter 5, when Keiki first gives her the sword and says "It is yours," he uses anata again, but in chapter 7, when he loses his temper and says, "You stupid woman!" (愚かな方), he omits the pronoun and uses kata as the object of the adjective, which is more polite than "person" or "woman." A page later, he says, "You are my lord" (あなたは私の主です). He uses anata, but his grammar is very proper. In fact, you could teach the above sentence in a Japanese 101 class.
A few sentences later, he says, "You must forgive me," omitting the pronoun and using itadaku, a verb ending used in honorific speech (also said before a meal, meaning "I humbly partake.") What Keiki is doing, then, is using anata sparingly and and shifting the honorifics to the verbs. Given the circumstances, and given what is from Keiki's perspective Youko's un-empress-like behavior, anata is probably the best he can manage.
This is a bigger problem for English-Japanese translators, who--in order to be accurate--first have to build relationship trees for all the characters to figure out which pronoun is appropriate in each scene. Especially when writing subtitles, translators will often resort to quick-and-dirty equivalents that aren't technically correct. This is what Keiki is doing. Calling Youko "Empress" would hardly help to expedite things, so he falls back on a pronoun that is perfectly understandable to her in this particular context.
The whole time they are in the vice-principal's office, the vice-principal addresses Youko and Keiki as o-mae or o-mae-ra (plural). Keiki addresses him in turn as anata and the people in the office as anata-gata (gata is the same as kata above, here a plural marker). So Keiki is being a lot more polite to them than they are to him.
After chapter 7, Youko and Keiki don't speak again until chapter 66. In chapter 66, Keiki omits all pronouns until he repeats his pledge to her at the end of the chapter, at which point he uses gozen (御前). Gozen is actually the same kanji as o-mae, except with the on-yomi or Chinese reading. In this case, it means "Your Excellency."
The first time Keiki speaks to Youko, (chapter 4), he omits the pronoun. In his next sentence, he says, "It is you." Here he uses the familiar but fairly neutral anata. When he says in frustration, "Must you be so obstinate!" he again omits the pronoun. In the next paragraph, when he asks, "Is not your life precious to you? Then allow me to do what I must," he omits the pronoun and attaches an honorific (おっしゃる) to "allow me," literally, "I'm asking you please to allow me."
In chapter 5, when Keiki first gives her the sword and says "It is yours," he uses anata again, but in chapter 7, when he loses his temper and says, "You stupid woman!" (愚かな方), he omits the pronoun and uses kata as the object of the adjective, which is more polite than "person" or "woman." A page later, he says, "You are my lord" (あなたは私の主です). He uses anata, but his grammar is very proper. In fact, you could teach the above sentence in a Japanese 101 class.
A few sentences later, he says, "You must forgive me," omitting the pronoun and using itadaku, a verb ending used in honorific speech (also said before a meal, meaning "I humbly partake.") What Keiki is doing, then, is using anata sparingly and and shifting the honorifics to the verbs. Given the circumstances, and given what is from Keiki's perspective Youko's un-empress-like behavior, anata is probably the best he can manage.
This is a bigger problem for English-Japanese translators, who--in order to be accurate--first have to build relationship trees for all the characters to figure out which pronoun is appropriate in each scene. Especially when writing subtitles, translators will often resort to quick-and-dirty equivalents that aren't technically correct. This is what Keiki is doing. Calling Youko "Empress" would hardly help to expedite things, so he falls back on a pronoun that is perfectly understandable to her in this particular context.
The whole time they are in the vice-principal's office, the vice-principal addresses Youko and Keiki as o-mae or o-mae-ra (plural). Keiki addresses him in turn as anata and the people in the office as anata-gata (gata is the same as kata above, here a plural marker). So Keiki is being a lot more polite to them than they are to him.
After chapter 7, Youko and Keiki don't speak again until chapter 66. In chapter 66, Keiki omits all pronouns until he repeats his pledge to her at the end of the chapter, at which point he uses gozen (御前). Gozen is actually the same kanji as o-mae, except with the on-yomi or Chinese reading. In this case, it means "Your Excellency."
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies
August 27, 2006
Part 21 (A Thousand Leagues of Wind)
Chapter 79
In order to better understand the etymology of Enho's various names, a review of the revelant kanji might help. The root kanji is matsu or shou (松), meaning "pine" or "evergreen."
Enho's full name is Otsu Etsu (乙悦). Later in life, he takes Rou Shou (老松), meaning "old pine," as one of his uji. He becomes a self-made wizard or Senpaku (仙伯), and King Tatsu calls him Shouhaku, or Count Shou (松伯). He helps establish the Evergreen Seminary (松塾). The name of his home town is changed from Shikin (支錦) to Shishou (支松), likely reflecting his fame.
Koshou's gang uses "Rou Shou" as their password, and Rou undoubtedly choses that uji for the same reason. The mythology that grows up around Enho's life is summarized in chapters 49 and 60.
Chapter 78
青辛 [せいしん] Sei Shin, Kantai's formal name
桓魋 [かんたい] Kantai
Some of the humor in chapter 78 gets lost in translation, specifically revolving around the familiar and formal forms of the first and second person pronouns. These differences—known to linguists as the "T-V" (or tu-vous) distinction—existed in English in Shakespearean times, with thou taking the familiar form. In an odd sociolinguistic reversal, the association of thou with the King James Bible transformed it into an archaic honorific, and the T-V distinction in English vanished.
The second person pronoun taught in Japanese classes is anata (あなた). Anata is actually the "safest" of the familiar forms, but is often used incorrectly by foreigners. Linguistically reflecting its feudal past, Japanese pronouns are tightly coupled with the social status of the person being referred to. But what makes the T-V distinction complicated in Japanese is that there really isn't a "V" in the second person.
Anybody above your social status or class is referred to by title, and never by name alone and certainly not with a pronoun. For example, a teacher would call a student by name or use a pronoun (the choice of pronoun depending on what the teacher thought of the student), but the student would always refer to the teacher using sensei. You would never call your boss "you," but "boss" or by his last name plus an honorific, usually san.
The pronoun o-mae (お前) is as ubiquitous as anata. It is generally not taught to novice speakers because it is even more insulting when used improperly. It literally means "honorable" (御) + "before/in front of" (前), implying that the person being addressed holds a lower social status.
In chapter 74, Kantai asks Youko, "Youshi, did you know there were no enemies outside?" The Japanese sentence begins: "Youshi, o-mae . . . . " Because Youko is a teenage girl, adults unaware of her real status naturally address her as o-mae. But as soon as Kantai realizes who she is, he drops the pronoun and uses "Your Highness" (lit. "Empress") to refer to her.
Koshou, however, just can't wrap his head around who Youko really is. When he says to Youko at the end of the chapter, "You being some kind of real important person and all . . . " he's still using o-mae, the same way he always has with her.
This, more than anything else, is what cracks Suzu and Shoukei up. But pronouns can be quite subtle in their implications. At the beginning of book 1, Youko refers to Keiki by name or drops the grammatical subject completely (which in Japanese is acceptable in formal speech). In chapter 43, when Youko says to Keiki, "At least you have to believe in me," she is literally saying (to Keiki), "At least Keiki has to believe in me."
This tells us that Youko is Keiki's superior. A subordinate does not address a superior by name without an accompanying honorific, a practice called yobisute (呼び捨て), literally meaning "call" + "throw away." That's one of the reasons why, in chapter 21, Shoukei gets steamed when the child empress, the Royal Kyou, refers to her by name alone.
But by chapter 48, when Keiki and Youko travel together to Meikaku, while Keiki continues to refer to Youko as "Your Highness," a sentence later Youko refers to Keiki as o-mae, and continues to use o-mae with him, clearly establishing their lord-vassal relationship. O-mae can be thought of as a more familiar form of anata. It's not insulting by itself, as long as social taboos aren't being violated.
On the other hand, if a fight is what you want, then calling a social superior o-mae is cruisin' for a bruisin' (there are far worse pronouns than o-mae, but I won't get into them here). An interesting twist on this occurs in chapter 79, when Enho refers to Youko as o-mae-san (お前さん). He is both recognizing her junior status to him and her elevated status at the same time. (A similar "intimate-honorific" is anata-sama.)
Keep in mind that nobody else in the kingdom but Youko would dare refer to the kirin as o-mae. And only Enho could get away with o-mae-san. When Gekkei kills Hourin in chapter 2, he addresses him as anata. It's still condescending, considering their relative social positions, but more polite than o-mae. In the same chapter, though, Shoukei's mother calls Gekkei onore, which is unambiguously insulting.
First person pronouns are somewhat less problematic. Students are taught the formal watashi (私), which in casual settings sounds a bit stuffy, but won't get your face slapped. Informally, men typically refer to themselves as ore (俺), while women of all ages use atashi (あたし). Boys use boku (僕), though you'll hear girls use boku as well (it does sound tomboyish). At the other end of the spectrum, Enho refers to himself as washi (わし), which is favored by the elderly.
In some cases, using your own name or title instead of the personal pronoun is most appropriate. Knowing when to use one and not the other, though, is not easily taught, so students of Japanese are advised to stick to watashi or avoid the pronoun altogether.
In chapter 78, when one of Kantai's regimental commanders addresses Youko, he begins by referring to himself as ore, but quickly corrects himself and starts over again using the more polite watashi: 「俺は、いや、私は . . . 」which literally means: "I, no (sorry), I . . . " Unfortunately, there's no simple way to translate this and retain the original nuance of the Japanese.
In order to better understand the etymology of Enho's various names, a review of the revelant kanji might help. The root kanji is matsu or shou (松), meaning "pine" or "evergreen."
Enho's full name is Otsu Etsu (乙悦). Later in life, he takes Rou Shou (老松), meaning "old pine," as one of his uji. He becomes a self-made wizard or Senpaku (仙伯), and King Tatsu calls him Shouhaku, or Count Shou (松伯). He helps establish the Evergreen Seminary (松塾). The name of his home town is changed from Shikin (支錦) to Shishou (支松), likely reflecting his fame.
Koshou's gang uses "Rou Shou" as their password, and Rou undoubtedly choses that uji for the same reason. The mythology that grows up around Enho's life is summarized in chapters 49 and 60.
Chapter 78
青辛 [せいしん] Sei Shin, Kantai's formal name
桓魋 [かんたい] Kantai
Some of the humor in chapter 78 gets lost in translation, specifically revolving around the familiar and formal forms of the first and second person pronouns. These differences—known to linguists as the "T-V" (or tu-vous) distinction—existed in English in Shakespearean times, with thou taking the familiar form. In an odd sociolinguistic reversal, the association of thou with the King James Bible transformed it into an archaic honorific, and the T-V distinction in English vanished.
The second person pronoun taught in Japanese classes is anata (あなた). Anata is actually the "safest" of the familiar forms, but is often used incorrectly by foreigners. Linguistically reflecting its feudal past, Japanese pronouns are tightly coupled with the social status of the person being referred to. But what makes the T-V distinction complicated in Japanese is that there really isn't a "V" in the second person.
Anybody above your social status or class is referred to by title, and never by name alone and certainly not with a pronoun. For example, a teacher would call a student by name or use a pronoun (the choice of pronoun depending on what the teacher thought of the student), but the student would always refer to the teacher using sensei. You would never call your boss "you," but "boss" or by his last name plus an honorific, usually san.
The pronoun o-mae (お前) is as ubiquitous as anata. It is generally not taught to novice speakers because it is even more insulting when used improperly. It literally means "honorable" (御) + "before/in front of" (前), implying that the person being addressed holds a lower social status.
In chapter 74, Kantai asks Youko, "Youshi, did you know there were no enemies outside?" The Japanese sentence begins: "Youshi, o-mae . . . . " Because Youko is a teenage girl, adults unaware of her real status naturally address her as o-mae. But as soon as Kantai realizes who she is, he drops the pronoun and uses "Your Highness" (lit. "Empress") to refer to her.
Koshou, however, just can't wrap his head around who Youko really is. When he says to Youko at the end of the chapter, "You being some kind of real important person and all . . . " he's still using o-mae, the same way he always has with her.
This, more than anything else, is what cracks Suzu and Shoukei up. But pronouns can be quite subtle in their implications. At the beginning of book 1, Youko refers to Keiki by name or drops the grammatical subject completely (which in Japanese is acceptable in formal speech). In chapter 43, when Youko says to Keiki, "At least you have to believe in me," she is literally saying (to Keiki), "At least Keiki has to believe in me."
This tells us that Youko is Keiki's superior. A subordinate does not address a superior by name without an accompanying honorific, a practice called yobisute (呼び捨て), literally meaning "call" + "throw away." That's one of the reasons why, in chapter 21, Shoukei gets steamed when the child empress, the Royal Kyou, refers to her by name alone.
But by chapter 48, when Keiki and Youko travel together to Meikaku, while Keiki continues to refer to Youko as "Your Highness," a sentence later Youko refers to Keiki as o-mae, and continues to use o-mae with him, clearly establishing their lord-vassal relationship. O-mae can be thought of as a more familiar form of anata. It's not insulting by itself, as long as social taboos aren't being violated.
On the other hand, if a fight is what you want, then calling a social superior o-mae is cruisin' for a bruisin' (there are far worse pronouns than o-mae, but I won't get into them here). An interesting twist on this occurs in chapter 79, when Enho refers to Youko as o-mae-san (お前さん). He is both recognizing her junior status to him and her elevated status at the same time. (A similar "intimate-honorific" is anata-sama.)
Keep in mind that nobody else in the kingdom but Youko would dare refer to the kirin as o-mae. And only Enho could get away with o-mae-san. When Gekkei kills Hourin in chapter 2, he addresses him as anata. It's still condescending, considering their relative social positions, but more polite than o-mae. In the same chapter, though, Shoukei's mother calls Gekkei onore, which is unambiguously insulting.
First person pronouns are somewhat less problematic. Students are taught the formal watashi (私), which in casual settings sounds a bit stuffy, but won't get your face slapped. Informally, men typically refer to themselves as ore (俺), while women of all ages use atashi (あたし). Boys use boku (僕), though you'll hear girls use boku as well (it does sound tomboyish). At the other end of the spectrum, Enho refers to himself as washi (わし), which is favored by the elderly.
In some cases, using your own name or title instead of the personal pronoun is most appropriate. Knowing when to use one and not the other, though, is not easily taught, so students of Japanese are advised to stick to watashi or avoid the pronoun altogether.
In chapter 78, when one of Kantai's regimental commanders addresses Youko, he begins by referring to himself as ore, but quickly corrects himself and starts over again using the more polite watashi: 「俺は、いや、私は . . . 」which literally means: "I, no (sorry), I . . . " Unfortunately, there's no simple way to translate this and retain the original nuance of the Japanese.
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, japanese, pronouns, social studies, wind
December 26, 2005
More about names (12 Kingdoms)
After doing some more research about the use and derivation of azana, I've discovered several earlier errors in my translation. In order to clarify things a bit, let's start with the following terms:
字 [あざな] azana, an informal nickname adopted as a child (小字), or a formal nickname given by one's parents.
氏 [うじ] uji, the sobriquet you choose for yourself upon reaching your majority; this is a substitute surname, and the name by which you will be commonly addressed as an adult.
本姓 [ほんせい] honsei, lit. "original name," your surname as originally recorded (registered) upon the census at birth.
姓名 [せいめい] seimei, or "full name," or honsei + given first name; this is your complete, official name and never changes (sort of like a Social Security number). Traditionally, it was never used publicly, but some, like Rangyoku, use their given name instead of an azana.
Also critical to the discussion is the treatment of your given name in traditional Chinese culture:
Note the following correction in chapter 2: "His [Chuutatsu's] registered family name was Son (孫) and his original uji, the surname he had chosen at adulthood, was Ken (健)."
This clarifies the following correction in chapter 21, the Royal Kyou addressing Shoukei: "And I take it this is Son (孫) Shou (昭)." Shoukei is enraged by this because the Royal Kyou has condescendingly addressed her by her honsei and without an accompanying honorific. (In Japanese, 昭 would be commonly pronounced "Aki," a girl's first name.)
Shoukei (祥瓊) is in fact her azana, derived from her official given name, Shou (昭). When Youko became empress, she formally adopted the azana, Sekishi (赤子). On the other hand, Keikei is a nickname (小字) or "child's azana" (though there's nothing derogatory about it). His formal name is Rankei (蘭桂).
As David Jordan explains the origins of the 小字 (in this particular context),
Rangyoku is also her formal, given name, not an azana (a mistake I've fixed). As she tells Youko, "Old-timers hate being called by their given first name, but I don't care." Yet even Rangyoku will adopt an uji when she beomes an adult. (Here the etymology seems to part a bit from the Chinese, but the concepts are the same.)
Going back to chapter 2, the Royal Hou Chuutatsu originally took an uji of Ken. The modifier "originally" is necessary because people could take multiple uji throughout their lives. As a minister, his name was Ken Chuutatsu. I am assuming that Chuutatsu (like Sekishi and Shoukei) would have been his azana.
One note about Youko and her alias, Youshi. In Japanese, the trick is easy to pull off because the kanji (陽子) are the same. To avoid confusion, though, I've avoided using Youshi unless the author explicitly indicates that pronunciation, or if a person who only knows her by her alias actually addresses her by name.
UPDATE: It's been pointed out that while Youko's name never comes up in the dialogue in the latter two-thirds of chapter 24, it is written from Rangyoku's POV. I find this a compelling argument, so I'll try substituting in "Youshi" for "Youko" when the narrative meets that criterion.
字 [あざな] azana, an informal nickname adopted as a child (小字), or a formal nickname given by one's parents.
氏 [うじ] uji, the sobriquet you choose for yourself upon reaching your majority; this is a substitute surname, and the name by which you will be commonly addressed as an adult.
本姓 [ほんせい] honsei, lit. "original name," your surname as originally recorded (registered) upon the census at birth.
姓名 [せいめい] seimei, or "full name," or honsei + given first name; this is your complete, official name and never changes (sort of like a Social Security number). Traditionally, it was never used publicly, but some, like Rangyoku, use their given name instead of an azana.
Also critical to the discussion is the treatment of your given name in traditional Chinese culture:
According to the Book of Rites, after a man becomes an adult, it is disrespectful for others of the same generation to address him by his given name. Therefore, the given name is reserved for oneself and one's elders, while 字 [zi or ji in Chinese, azana in Japanese] would be used by adults of the same generation to refer to one another in formal occasions or writings; hence the term "courtesy name".
Note the following correction in chapter 2: "His [Chuutatsu's] registered family name was Son (孫) and his original uji, the surname he had chosen at adulthood, was Ken (健)."
This clarifies the following correction in chapter 21, the Royal Kyou addressing Shoukei: "And I take it this is Son (孫) Shou (昭)." Shoukei is enraged by this because the Royal Kyou has condescendingly addressed her by her honsei and without an accompanying honorific. (In Japanese, 昭 would be commonly pronounced "Aki," a girl's first name.)
Shoukei (祥瓊) is in fact her azana, derived from her official given name, Shou (昭). When Youko became empress, she formally adopted the azana, Sekishi (赤子). On the other hand, Keikei is a nickname (小字) or "child's azana" (though there's nothing derogatory about it). His formal name is Rankei (蘭桂).
As David Jordan explains the origins of the 小字 (in this particular context),
Children were sometimes given one or more derogatory nicknames designed to make them seem unattractive so as to avoid their being targets of attack by envious or malicious spirits. These names were, of course, rarely used past childhood, since they were temporary expedients.
Rangyoku is also her formal, given name, not an azana (a mistake I've fixed). As she tells Youko, "Old-timers hate being called by their given first name, but I don't care." Yet even Rangyoku will adopt an uji when she beomes an adult. (Here the etymology seems to part a bit from the Chinese, but the concepts are the same.)
Going back to chapter 2, the Royal Hou Chuutatsu originally took an uji of Ken. The modifier "originally" is necessary because people could take multiple uji throughout their lives. As a minister, his name was Ken Chuutatsu. I am assuming that Chuutatsu (like Sekishi and Shoukei) would have been his azana.
One note about Youko and her alias, Youshi. In Japanese, the trick is easy to pull off because the kanji (陽子) are the same. To avoid confusion, though, I've avoided using Youshi unless the author explicitly indicates that pronunciation, or if a person who only knows her by her alias actually addresses her by name.
UPDATE: It's been pointed out that while Youko's name never comes up in the dialogue in the latter two-thirds of chapter 24, it is written from Rangyoku's POV. I find this a compelling argument, so I'll try substituting in "Youshi" for "Youko" when the narrative meets that criterion.
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, japanese, language
December 04, 2005
Chapter 18 (A Thousand Leagues of Wind)
I groused a while back about the unrealistic difficulties Suzu was having learning the language (though it does probably reflects the experiences of many Japanese when it comes to the years spent studying English, and it was important to the plot). However, the Empress Kouko's little lecture on sociolinguistics and cultural solipsism in this chapter is spot on: understanding the words that people say is not the same as understanding what they mean or intend. Hence the failure of machine translation when the slightest nuance is encountered in the text.
Youko will tell Keiki essentially the same thing in chapter 20, and uses a very good example about how meaning springs from context.
Consider how most English-speaking students of Japanese learn the second person pronoun. Now, English pronouns are hardly the epitome of logic, especially when it comes to case. (Frankly, as with "you," English could pretty much dispense with case and hardly anybody would notice. Most native English speakers have enough trouble knowing when it's "you and I" or "you and me.") But at least "you" is a socially neutral term that can be used equally with a friend or lover, the pope or the president.
The temptation, encouraged by some Japanese teachers trying to press English and Japanese into the same grammatical mold (the same mistake English grammarians made when they applied Latin grammar rules to English, a Germanic language), is not only to translate "you" directly as anata, but to use the pronoun with the same diction. But anata is a familiar term, mostly inappropriate in civil discourse. It's how wives address their dimwit husbands in Japanese sit-coms: A-na-ta! It's not how you talk to your teacher or your boss or anybody with a higher social status than yourself.
Because Japanese instruction often focuses on grammar rather than diction, students learn anata incorrectly and go on using it incorrectly. And because gaijin speaking Japanese still have something of a sideshow quality about them, Japanese tend to grin and bear it rather than correct you. But if the grammatical parallels were abandoned early on, not only would students not be encouraged in this egregious bit of language transfer, but they would have start thinking differently about how language and culture interact.
(So how do you address someone with a higher social status without using the second person pronoun? Either by title, or drop the subject completely. Subjects, especially pronouns, are optional in Japanese.)
采麟 [さいりん] Sairin, kirin of Sai (才)
揺籃 [ようらん] Youran, lit. "rocking cradle"
Chapter 17
失道 [しつどう] shitsudou, or "Loss of the Way," the illness that afflicts a kirin when the king violates the Divine Will. The Royal En explains its implications in chapter 59 of Shadow of the Moon.
恭国 [きょうこく] The Kingdom of Kyou
供王 [きょうおう] The Royal Kyou
Youko will tell Keiki essentially the same thing in chapter 20, and uses a very good example about how meaning springs from context.
Consider how most English-speaking students of Japanese learn the second person pronoun. Now, English pronouns are hardly the epitome of logic, especially when it comes to case. (Frankly, as with "you," English could pretty much dispense with case and hardly anybody would notice. Most native English speakers have enough trouble knowing when it's "you and I" or "you and me.") But at least "you" is a socially neutral term that can be used equally with a friend or lover, the pope or the president.
The temptation, encouraged by some Japanese teachers trying to press English and Japanese into the same grammatical mold (the same mistake English grammarians made when they applied Latin grammar rules to English, a Germanic language), is not only to translate "you" directly as anata, but to use the pronoun with the same diction. But anata is a familiar term, mostly inappropriate in civil discourse. It's how wives address their dimwit husbands in Japanese sit-coms: A-na-ta! It's not how you talk to your teacher or your boss or anybody with a higher social status than yourself.
Because Japanese instruction often focuses on grammar rather than diction, students learn anata incorrectly and go on using it incorrectly. And because gaijin speaking Japanese still have something of a sideshow quality about them, Japanese tend to grin and bear it rather than correct you. But if the grammatical parallels were abandoned early on, not only would students not be encouraged in this egregious bit of language transfer, but they would have start thinking differently about how language and culture interact.
(So how do you address someone with a higher social status without using the second person pronoun? Either by title, or drop the subject completely. Subjects, especially pronouns, are optional in Japanese.)
采麟 [さいりん] Sairin, kirin of Sai (才)
揺籃 [ようらん] Youran, lit. "rocking cradle"
Chapter 17
失道 [しつどう] shitsudou, or "Loss of the Way," the illness that afflicts a kirin when the king violates the Divine Will. The Royal En explains its implications in chapter 59 of Shadow of the Moon.
恭国 [きょうこく] The Kingdom of Kyou
供王 [きょうおう] The Royal Kyou
Labels: 12 kingdoms, honorifics, japanese, language, pronouns, social studies, wind