Categories
Culture History

báihuà

báihuà (bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

As mentioned in last week’s MEotW on “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)”, Literary Chinese was the standard style of writing in China for a long, long time. Since language naturally changes as time goes by, though, the way people actually talked became more and more different from Literary Chinese.

Eventually, starting about a century ago, in the early 1920s, written vernacular Chinese, or báihuà (bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話)—this week’s MEotW—began replacing Literary Chinese in literary works, and it eventually became the standard style of writing for Modern Standard Mandarin.

A Literary Turning Point

The Wikipedia article on written vernacular Chinese provides this summary regarding this literary turning point:

Jin Shengtan, who edited several novels in vernacular Chinese in the 17th century, is widely regarded as the pioneer of literature in the vernacular style. However, it was not until after the May Fourth Movement in 1919 and the promotion by scholars and intellectuals such as pragmatist reformer Hu Shih, pioneering writer Chen Hengzhe, leftist Lu Xun, Chen Duxiu, and leftist Qian Xuantong that vernacular Chinese, or Bai hua, gained widespread importance. In particular, The True Story of Ah Q by Lu Xun is generally accepted as the first modern work to fully utilize the vernacular language.[source]

The Wikipedia article on the May Fourth Movement adds the following:

In Chinese literature, the May Fourth Movement is regarded as the watershed after which the use of the vernacular language (baihua) gained currency over and eventually replaced the use of Literary Chinese in literary works. Intellectuals were driven toward expressing themselves using the spoken tongue under the slogan 我手写我口 [wǒ (my 我) shǒu (hand 手) xiě (writes 写 寫) wǒ (my 我) kǒu ({mouth(’s utterances)} 口)] (‘my hand writes [what] my mouth [speaks]’), although the change was actually gradual: Hu Shih had already argued for the use of the modern vernacular language in literature in his 1917 essay “Preliminary discussion on literary reform” (文学改良刍议), while the first short story written exclusively in the vernacular language, The True Story of Ah Q by Lu Xun, was not published until 1921.

Punctuation! Arabic Numerals!

Interestingly, the Wikipedia article on written vernacular Chinese, quoted above, goes on to make the following claim about what came along with this change to the vernacular style:

Along with the growing popularity of vernacular writing in books in this period was the acceptance of punctuation, modeled after that used in Western languages (traditional Chinese literature was almost entirely unpunctuated), and the use of Arabic numerals.

The above claim about how it came to be that we now benefit from punctuation in modern Chinese writings is repeated in the separate Wikipedia article on Chinese punctuation:

Although there was a long native tradition of textual annotation to indicate the boundaries of sentences and clauses, the concept of punctuation marks being a mandatory and integral part of the text was only adapted in the written language during the 20th century due to Western influence.

A quick web search also turned up this post on the Chinese Language Stack Exchange website, part of which says:

I have seen some old Chinese books. The words flowed from top to bottom on the page and there was no punctuation.

We can be thankful that báihuà (bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話) (along with, apparently, punctuation and Arabic numerals) replaced Literary Chinese as the standard style of writing for Mandarin, just as I’m sure that the English-speakers among us are thankful that the standard written English of today is no longer the written English of Shakespeare or that of the King James Version of the Bible.

How About Cantonese, Shanghainese, Etc.?

Báihuà (Bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話) not only became the standard style of writing for Modern Standard Mandarin, but due to China’s particular language and political situation, it also became the standard style of writing for speakers of Cantonese and of other Chinese languages, as Wikipedia points out:

Since the early 1920s, this modern vernacular form has been the standard style of writing for speakers of all varieties of Chinese throughout mainland China, Taiwan, Malaysia and Singapore

As someone who was in the Cantonese field for a long time before joining the Mandarin field, I can attest to the fact that years ago in the Cantonese field, we would use official publications that were actually in written Mandarin, with its different vocabulary, etc., because báihuà (bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話), the standard writing style in the Chinese world, is based on Mandarin.

Recently, though, Jehovah’s organization has carried on in the direction gone in by báihuà (bái·huà {white → [colloquial; vernacular]} · speech [→ [writing based on vernacular speech]] 白话 白話), of having writing reflect how people actually talk, by making available publications in which the writing is based on spoken Cantonese, in addition to the existing publications using written Mandarin. (Publications in which the writing is based on other spoken Chinese languages are also available.) This is in harmony with a basic principle regarding how God designed and created humans to use language, which, as linguists have figured out, is that speech is primary and writing is secondary.

Different kinds of written Chinese on jw.org

Publications are available on jw.org in writing based on different Chinese languages, to better match how people actually talk in those languages.

Categories
Culture History

chéngyǔ

chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Years ago, “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)” was an Expression of the Week on the tiandi.info blog. That post from the early days of tiandi.info started by discussing the English word “idiom”, and then presented the Mandarin word “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)” as “the Chinese word for ‘idiom’ ”.

However, after further research, it appears, as is often the case with English and Mandarin words, that the English word “idiom” and the Mandarin word “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)”, which are often considered to be equivalent, are only mostly equivalent.

The online dictionary Wiktionary gives us this definition of “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)”:

a certain kind of Chinese set phrase originating in Classical Chinese, typically four or five characters in length

Also, Wikipedia provides the following summarized information:

Chéngyǔ are considered the collected wisdom of the Chinese culture, and contain the experiences, moral concepts, and admonishments from previous generations of Chinese.

…

They are often referred to as Chinese idioms or four-character idioms; however, they are not the only idioms in Chinese.

…

Chéngyǔ are mostly derived from ancient literature, including the pre-Qin classics, poetry from all periods of Chinese history, and late imperial vernacular novels and short stories. A small number were constructed in the 19th and early 20th centuries from Western source materials.

A quick check of Pleco does indeed turn up several other Mandarin words besides “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語)” that also correspond to the English word “idiom”.

So, it appears that while chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) can be called idioms in English, not all Chinese idioms are chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語). It seems that “chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語)” specifically refers to Chinese idioms that originated in Classical Chinese, or Literary Chinese. This writing style has largely been replaced by written vernacular Chinese, which has been the standard style of writing for Modern Standard Mandarin for about a century now.

Since they originated in Classical Chinese, which hasn’t been current for about a century, chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) often cannot be fully understood by modern speakers and readers of Mandarin, since knowledge about the source material for chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) has naturally been fading with the passing of time.

Wikipedia offers up this example:

Chéngyǔ are generally meant to convey the message or moral of the myth, story or historical event from which they were derived. Thus, even after translation into modern words and syntax, chéngyǔ in isolation are often unintelligible without additional explanation. …

The phrase “破釜沉舟” (pò fǔ chén zhōu, lit: “break the pots and sink the ships”) is based on a historical account where the general Xiang Yu ordered his troops to destroy all cooking utensils and boats after crossing a river into the enemy’s territory. He won the battle because of this “no-retreat” strategy. Thus, the idiom is used as a verb phrase with the meaning “to make an all-out effort to achieve success by the deliberate removal of recourse or backup.” Similar phrases are known in the West, such as “Point of no return” or “Crossing the Rubicon”.

“Darmok”

Researching this post on chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) made me think of the episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation entitled “Darmok”. In this episode, the crew of the Federation starship Enterprise encounters an alien species called the Tamarians. This species speaks using phrases like “Temba, his arms wide”, which even the show’s fictional universal translator cannot fully decipher for the befuddled Federation crew.

While some consider this to be one of the greatest episodes of Star Trek, as someone who has been trained to communicate a life-saving message as clearly and understandably as possible, I have always found the alien way of speaking in this episode to be incredibly stupid, counter-productive, and even dangerous. How obviously foolish it is when speaking to require your audience to have cultural or other knowledge that they probably don’t have, resulting in failure to communicate!

In “Darmok” (spoilers), the Enterprise and the alien ship ended up actually shooting at each other, and the alien captain ended up dying because he and the Enterprise’s Captain Picard had such difficulties coming to understand each other. In such a scenario, there is great risk and danger, and no guarantee that mutual understanding will eventually be achieved, even between ones as intelligent and well-motivated as the crew of the Enterprise and the crew of this alien ship were. How much better it is to speak simply and understandably from the beginning!—1 Co. 14:8–11.

In Today’s Mandarin Field

One highly educated Mandarin-speaking brother I know was admonished by his daughter to tone down his extensive use of chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) in his talks, because while they may be very cool to those who have the background knowledge to get them, many listeners actually cannot understand them. Although generally a genial and pleasant fellow, this scholarly brother’s irritated reply was to the effect of, “This is a Chinese congregation, people should learn the language!”

Understandably, when one knows a lot about something, the tendency and the temptation is to use that knowledge, even when it may not be appropriate for our purpose or our audience. So, it would be good for those of us serving in the Mandarin field to remember that we should be using our language skills to speak understandably about “the magnificent things of God”, not to showcase the cultural traditions and knowledge of mere humans.—Acts 2:8–11.

As noted above, even among the humans in the Chinese world, knowledge of chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) seems to be fading away. As time goes by, and as the experience of modern life inevitably continues to change, knowledge of chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) seems to be gradually becoming something that only belongs to the relative few who have a particular interest in these pithy distillations of traditional experience. This is perhaps similar to how in the English-speaking world, it’s probably true that by now only relatively few particularly interested ones can fully understand references (e.g., “Et tu, Brute?”) based on the plots of Shakespeare’s plays. Now, rather than coming up with new chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語), when Chinese people in general get creative with the language, it’s typically while they are chatting on the Internet.

One useful barometer to check regarding how much we should learn and use chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) in today’s Mandarin field is to consider how much they are used in today’s official publications of Jehovah’s organization. Comparing Mandarin publications from years ago to those of today, it can be seen that the trend is to use ever simpler and clearer language, as is the trend with English publications. Thus, chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) are being used less and less in Mandarin publications as time goes by. Following this example, we thus should also be using fewer and fewer chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(things that) have become} · sayings → [set phrases (typically of 4 characters); idioms] 成语 成語) in the Mandarin field as time goes by.

If and when we do use a chéngyǔ (chéng·yǔ {(sth. that) has become} · saying → [set phrase (typically of 4 characters); idiom] 成语 成語), we should make sure that we explain it well enough so that even those who had never heard of it or its backstory can understand and benefit from it.

Categories
Culture History

wénhuà

wénhuà (wén·huà {(with) writing} · transformed (system) → [culture] | {(with) writing} · transformed → [cultural] 文化) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Ironically, even though many people obsess over preserving “authentic” traditional Chinese culture, the very Chinese word for “culture” actually came from a Japanese word, which was coined to translate the Western concept of culture:

Before the word wénhuà 文化, meaning “culture,” was imported from Japan to China, there was already a concept of wénhuà 文化. It is as old as the word Zhōngguó 中国. Four words are concealed behind 文化, namely 文 wén (civil); 治 zhì (administration); 教 jiào (to educate); and 化 huà (to persuade). 文 wén is an abbreviation of 文治 wén zhì (civil administration); 化 huà is an abbreviation of 教化 jiào huà (to persuade through education). Thus 文化 is a short way of writing “civil administration and persuasion through
education.” This refers to the peaceful, Confucian-based moral education of the people (cf. Gernet, Jacques 1983:85, 295).

The current word “culture,” which is also written 文化, has a different origin. To translate the Western concept of culture, the Japanese coined the word bunka, which is written 文化 (see Liu, Zhengtan et al. 1984, s.v. wenhua). The Chinese imported this character combination from Japan and pronounced it according to the rules of their own language: wénhuà. In this way, the modern term has been superimposed on the Chinese “civil administration and persuasion through education.” The original Chinese meaning is largely unknown nowadays.

—“Two Steps Toward Digraphia in China”, by Xieyan Hincha

So, let us not fall into the common snare of idolizing any worldly human culture, including traditional Chinese culture. As with any human culture that has had contact with other human cultures, there has been mutual borrowing/stealing of ideas, mutual influencing, etc. Also, as with any merely human culture, there is some bad along with the good. There is so much bad in every worldly human culture, in fact, that Jehovah will not deem any worldly human culture to be worthy of preserving forever, no matter how ancient and seemingly exotic it is. Indeed, “the world”—and all the human cultures in it—“is passing away”.—1 John 2:17.

For a certainty, we should never let human cultural traditions take priority over serving Jehovah in the best way we can. As in all other things, we should imitate Jesus in positively hating any human traditions that make it unnecessarily burdensome for people to serve God.—Mark 7:1–13.

Rather than putting any mere human culture on a pedastal and taking pride in learning from it, we should primarily take pride in being “taught by Jehovah” himself about ways of thinking, feeling, expressing, and doing things, which are what make up culture.—Isaiah 54:13; 1 Corinthians 1:31.