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fántǐ‐zì

fántǐ (fán·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] 繁体 繁體) (characters 字) 👈🏼 Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

[This is a reposting of a post that was originally posted on November 30, 2020. I took the opportunity to flesh out the original post and this repost with additional material.]

For a long, long, long time, Chinese characters were just Chinese characters. Then, in 1956, the Communist government of mainland China issued what came to be known as the First Chinese Character Simplification Scheme (a second round of Chinese character simplification was later attempted and ultimately rescinded), and official simplified Chinese characters came into the world. (Some characters had been unofficially simplified and used for various purposes, both everyday and artistic, before that.)

Name?

To distinguish these newfangled official simplified Chinese characters from the Chinese characters that had existed before, and that continue to be used by many people in many parts of the world, retronyms were coined to refer to these pre-existing Chinese characters, just as the term “acoustic guitar” was coined to refer to a regular non-electric guitar after electric guitars came along.

In the English-speaking world, the pre-official simplification characters have come to be called “traditional Chinese characters”, as opposed to the “simplified Chinese characters”. In the Chinese-speaking world, as is true of many things regarding Chinese characters, the situation is…complicated. Wikipedia summarizes the situation thusly:

Traditional Chinese characters (the standard characters) are called several different names within the Chinese-speaking world. The government of Taiwan officially calls traditional Chinese characters standard characters or orthodox characters (traditional Chinese: 正體字; simplified Chinese: 正体字; pinyin: zhèngtǐzì; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄓㄥˋ ㄊㄧˇ ㄗˋ).[source] However, the same term is used outside Taiwan to distinguish standard, simplified and traditional characters from variant and idiomatic characters.[source]

In contrast, users of traditional characters outside Taiwan, such as those in Hong Kong, Macau and overseas Chinese communities, and also users of simplified Chinese characters, call them complex characters (traditional Chinese: 繁體字; simplified Chinese: 繁体字; pinyin: fántǐzì; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄈㄢˊ ㄊㄧˇ ㄗˋ). Users of simplified characters sometimes informally refer to them as “old characters” (Chinese: 老字; pinyin: lǎozì; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄌㄠˇ ㄗˋ).

Users of traditional characters also sometimes call them “full Chinese characters” (traditional Chinese: 全體字; simplified Chinese: 全体字; pinyin: quántǐ zì; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄑㄩㄢˊ ㄊㄧˇ ㄗˋ) to distinguish them from simplified Chinese characters.

In my experience in the Chinese fields in Canada, I have always heard traditional Chinese characters referred to using this week’s MEotW, “fántǐ (fán·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] 繁体 繁體) (characters 字)”. For reference, this is also the term used on jw.org when referring to Mandarin written using traditional Chinese characters:

jw.org referring to Mandarin written using traditional Chinese characters

jw.org refers to traditional Chinese characters as “fántǐ (fán·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] 繁体 繁體)” characters.

Beloved by Traditionalists and Purists, But Complicated

Many feel that traditional characters are the best characters of all, since, in their estimation, the official simplified characters have lost some of the heart and soul of characters. As a symbolic example, some point to how the simplified character for “love”, “爱”, omits the “heart” radical (“心”), which is appropriately in the traditional character for “love”, “愛”.

Yes, as the above post mentions, the obvious, glaring issue with traditional characters is—aggravated by the fact that there are tens of thousands of them—their extreme, extraordinary complexity, the result of their problematically complex basic nature, along with thousands of years of accumulated occasionally arbitrary design decisions and developmental cruft. For example, note the below excerpt from p. 82 of the book The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy, by John DeFrancis:

In the case of the rendition for the huáng meaning “sturgeon” we have two variants, one written with the “yellow” phonetic and the other with the “emperor” phonetic, both combined with the semantic element for “fish”:

魚 “fish”
鱑 “fish” + huáng “yellow” = huáng “sturgeon”
鰉 “fish” + huáng “emperor” = huáng “sturgeon”

While etymological research might succeed in clarifying the basis for some of the variation, in many cases, as one specialist in Chinese paleography concludes, “it is simply a matter of the whim of the writer” (Barnard 1978:203).

Scribal whim goes far to explain a diversity bordering on chaos in the forms of the Chinese characters as they evolved in the Shang dynasty and during the long years of political and administrative disunity in the Zhou dynasty (ca. 1028–221 B.C.). The situation was aggravated by the fact that characters were created by writers living in different historical periods, which inevitably meant changes in sounds over the years, and speaking different dialects, which inevitably affected their choice of phonetic elements in the creation of new characters.

Their inherent extraordinary complexity, exacerbated by an accumulated millennia-long history of design decisions made on a whim, out-of-date phonetic elements, etc., causes especially the traditional characters, and even the (moderately) simplified characters, to be extremely difficult for us imperfect humans to learn and to remember. This has lead to character amnesia and the Great Wall of unfamiliar characters being real things, even among those who have been studying characters for decades. How complex can traditional characters get? Theoretically, there is no upper limit!

The extreme, extraordinary complexity of traditional characters undoubtedly contributed greatly to illiteracy having been widespread in China for much of its history. Even for those who are privileged to be able to devote the extraordinary amount of time and effort needed to learn traditional characters, it’s a long, hard slog, compared to learning a comparatively simple and compact alphabetical writing system. It’s little wonder, then, that there have been serious, concerted efforts to simplify and even replace traditional Chinese characters.

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Culture Language Learning Science Technology Theocratic

róngyào

róngyào (róng·yào glory; honour · {being bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [honour; glory]} → [glory; honour] | glorify · {to be bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [to be glorious]} → [glorify] | honourable; glorious · {bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [glorious]} → [honourable; glorious] 荣耀 榮耀) 👈🏼 Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Rather than dismissively thinking to ourselves that the songs produced by the organization are “just songs”, we should remember that the slave class takes seriously its responsibility to provide spiritual food to God’s people, and so it is going to make sure that the lyrics in its songs are spiritually correct, while also being emotionally moving.—Ezekiel 33:32; Matthew 24:45.

“Give Jehovah Glory”

“Róngyào” _Pīnyīn_ Plus info, Song 159 (music+_Pīnyīn_), on iPhone 13 mini (landscape orientation)

This week’s MEotW in the unofficial Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus resource “Sing Out Joyfully” Bk. (Pīnyīn+Music, Pīnyīn Plus, Web)

This week’s MEotW, “róngyào (róng·yào glory; honour · {being bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [honour; glory]} → [glory; honour] | glorify · {to be bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [to be glorious]} → [glorify] | honourable; glorious · {bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [glorious]} → [honourable; glorious] 荣耀 榮耀)”, comes from the relatively new song 159, which is entitled “Give Jehovah Glory” in English and “Róngyào (Róng·yào Glory · {Being Shining → [Glory]} → [Glory] 荣耀 榮耀) Guīgěi (Guī·gěi {Give Back} · {to Be Given to} 归给 歸給) Yēhéhuá (Jehovah 耶和华 耶和華) in Mandarin (WOL, Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Plus).

“Róngyào (Róng·yào glory; honour · {being bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [honour; glory]} → [glory; honour] | glorify · {to be bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [to be glorious]} → [glorify] | honourable; glorious · {bright; dazzling; brilliant; shining → [glorious]} → [honourable; glorious] 荣耀 榮耀) is flexible regarding what part of speech it can be—it can mean “glory; honour”, “glorify”, or “honourable; glorious”. In the Mandarin field, what kinds of glory should we be mindful of? Whom should we seek to glorify? What kind of glory is truly glorious?

“Glory from Men” Who Glorify Worldly Human Chinese Culture

Some in the Mandarin field may focus on gaining knowledge of Chinese characters so as to obtain glory from certain humans. Ones who do this are taking a different approach from that of Jesus, who said at John 5:41–44:

I do not accept glory from men, but I well know that you do not have the love of God in you. I have come in the name of my Father, but you do not receive me. If someone else came in his own name, you would receive that one. How can you believe, when you are accepting glory from one another and you are not seeking the glory that is from the only God?

Why do some humans heap praise and glory on those who have acquired extensive knowledge of Chinese characters? For one thing, Chinese characters are famously extraordinarily hard to learn and remember (unnecessarily so, actually), and so there is the natural glory given to those who have been able to accomplish a hard thing. Also, though, Chinese characters are glamourized by many as distinctive symbols of worldly human Chinese culture, and many are proud of them, and proud of worldly human Chinese culture. This is a big reason why traditional Mandarin language instruction and traditional Mandarin language teachers in general focus on Chinese characters so much and encourage Mandarin learners to prioritize them.

It is only natural for a student of Mandarin to want to receive glory from his teacher and others like him. Unfortunately, though, experience has shown that going along with a traditional Mandarin language teacher’s focus on characters may lead to a Mandarin learner actually being diverted into a deep rabbit hole and hindered from actually learning how speak Mandarin well. While such ones may, after many years of intense effort, come to be able to recognize many Chinese characters, they may not be able to, say, glorify Jehovah while speaking powerfully and persuasively to Mandarin-speaking people, the way Jesus spoke to people. (Mark 1:22) That’s because this traditional focus on characters has all along been mainly meant, not to help Mandarin learners actually learn to speak Mandarin, but to perpetuate and glorify worldly human Chinese culture.

Glory for Worldly Chinese Political Systems

In this world, certain aspects of Chinese culture can unfortunately get politicized. For example, Simplified characters and Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) were created in mainland China, so some may promote these systems so as to glorify the political system of mainland China. On the other hand, Traditional characters and Zhùyīn (Zhù·yīn {Annotating of} · Sounds → [Zhuyin] 注音 註/注音) continued to be used in Taiwan after the mainland pivoted away from them, so some may promote these systems so as to glorify the political system of Taiwan. Even the Mandarin expression that people use to refer to the Mandarin language (Guóyǔ (Guó·yǔ National · Language → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin (term commonly used in Taiwan)] 国语 國語)/pǔtōnghuà (pǔ·tōng·huà common; universal · {through(out) → [common]} · speech → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin (term commonly used in China)] 普通话 普通話)/Huáyǔ (Huá·yǔ {Magnificent; Splendid; Flowery; Florescent → [Chinese]} · Language → [(Modern Standard) Mandarin (term commonly used in Singapore)] 华语 華語)/etc.) can be made to take on political connotations. Of course, as Jehovah’s politically neutral servants, we must avoid doing things just to glorify one human political system over another.

Another thing that we Mandarin field language learners must beware of is the erroneous idea that Mandarin, Cantonese, Shanghainese, etc. are just “dialects” of “Chinese”. This misconception has been widely spread as political propaganda, to bolster the idea that China should be united under one political system. So, if we parrot that erroneous view regarding so-called Chinese “dialects” that in reality function like distinct languages, then we are actually parroting political propaganda that is designed to glorify China’s central government regardless of any confusion or other negative effects that may result from such spreading of falsehood.

Glory for Jehovah

Rather than allowing ourselves to be used to glorify humans or things in this worldly human system, we can show that we seek to glorify Jehovah, the God of truth. (John 17:17; 4:23, 24) One way we can do so in the Chinese language fields is by rejecting the many untruths that have been spread about the Chinese languages. Also, we can do so by seeking to choose and use systems and methods based on what really works best to help us to praise and glorify Jehovah, not based on what serves to glorify ourselves or worldly humans, and not based on what serves to perpetuate and glorify worldly human cultures, traditions, and political systems.

As Jesus’ words above showed, Jehovah gives “the glory that is from the only God” to those who seek to give glory to him, rather than to mere humans. So, let us follow song 159’s simple but profound admonition, and give glory to Jehovah!

Categories
Culture Experiences Language Learning Technology Theocratic

mángwén

mángwén (máng·wén blind · writing → [braille] 盲文) 👈🏼 Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Recently, jw.org featured the video “ ‘Without It, I Would Feel Lost’ ”, which, as its description says, is about “the experience of a blind man who has benefited from having the Bible in braille”. Where the English description of this video uses the word “braille”, the Mandarin description uses this week’s MEotW, “mángwén (máng·wén blind · writing → [braille] 盲文)”. And yes, as the existence of this Mandarin expression suggests, Chinese Braille (Zhōngguó (Zhōng·guó Central · Nation → [Chinese] 中国 中國) Mángwén (Máng·wén Blind · Writing → [Braille] 盲文)) does indeed exist.

Braille in the Land of Characters

But, one may ask, how does braille, with just a limited number of raised dots, work for Mandarin Chinese when thousands and thousands of Chinese characters are usually used to write this language? The post “How Chinese Braille works”, on the blog The Language Closet, discusses this question:

There is one system that intrigues me. one that, [sic] seems a little too big for what braille is able to handle.

You see…, one braille cell contains 6 dots. Including the space, which consists of zero raised dots, there are only 64 possible combinations that can be formed per braille cell. But yet, it is this same system that could represent the entirety of the Mandarin Chinese language to provide accessibility to the blind users. How does it do that? After all, Chinese as we know it is written with thousands upon thousands of characters, each with their own meaning.

To get around this problem of representing thousands of characters in braille, we would have to ditch the concept of the character, and to focus on the structure of the Chinese syllable. Chinese is fairly restricted in its syllable structure, with syllables having a (CG)V(X)T structure, where C is the initial consonant, G is the glide, V is the vowel, X is the coda, and T is one of the four tones, or a neutral tone for weak syllables. So in the hanyu pinyin, the syllable zhuāng can be split into zh + u + a + ng + tone 1. After factoring in tone, there are around 1300 possible syllables, although Mandarin Chinese uses way less than that.

In Mandarin Chinese, there are only 21 possible consonant initials, which are, in hanyu pinyin,

b, p, m, f, d, t, n, l, g, j, k, q, h, x, zh, ch, sh, r, z, c, and s.

Furthermore, with a limited number of final combinations, that is, combining glides, vowels, and codas, every single combination of Chinese initials and finals could be represented in braille.

So, Chinese Braille does NOT work by trying to shoehorn a Chinese characters writing system into braille—even the Simplified one just wouldn’t fit. Instead, the approach taken was to “ditch the concept of the character, and to focus on the structure of the Chinese syllable”, a basic unit of Mandarin speech. Instead of being based on a Chinese characters writing system, with its thousands and thousands of inconsistent, haphazardly designed symbols, Chinese Braille is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), which consistently and elegantly represents any and all Modern Standard Mandarin speech with a reasonable number of symbols.

As the article “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Is a Good, Workable Writing System on Its Own” says:

But, is Pīnyīn even really a writing system? Interestingly, the Chinese national standard Zhōngguó Mángwén (中国盲文/中國盲文, Chinese Braille) is basically a transliteration or conversion of Pīnyīn into braille letters.

From this fact, we can logically draw the following conclusion, as stated in the above-mentioned article:

Braille is obviously a writing system, so Pīnyīn must also be a writing system (see p. 9), not just a pronunciation aid.

But, What About Homophones?!

One of the primary objections raised to the idea of using Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as a writing system, and not just as a pronunciation aid, is that there are supposedly so many homophones (different words that sound the same) in Mandarin that characters are required to disambiguate them, otherwise there would be mass confusion. However, users of Chinese Braille, which is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音), seem to be doing just fine, along with the billion or so people who regularly speak Mandarin without constantly showing each other the Chinese characters that are supposedly required to distinguish homophones from one another.

For more information about Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) and homophones, see the subheading “But There Are So Many Words That Sound the Same!” in the article “Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) Was Plan A”. For those saying “tl;dr”, here is a bit of material from the conclusion of that section of the article:

The ultimate clarifier in modern Mandarin, even with all its existing homophones, is context, not characters. Characters themselves can have multiple possible meanings and multiple possible pronunciations, so one often has to, yes, check the context of something written in characters before the meaning and/or pronunciation of certain words in it can be determined with certainty.…

That there are so many different words in modern Mandarin that sound the same is not a good reason not to use Pīnyīn, any more than it is a good reason not to speak Mandarin. Ironically, it is actually a good long-term reason not to use characters!

So, rather than being a real, valid reason not to use Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) as an actual writing system for Mandarin, the objection that characters are required to cope with Mandarin’s homophones is really just copium (“cope”+“opium”) for those who fear that all the blood, sweat, and tears they have invested into trying to learn and remember characters will be made irrelevant. (Such ones shouldn’t really fear, though—the world is and will continue to be awash in Chinese characters, so knowledge of characters will continue to have some value, probably right up until the end of this system of things.) The truth, for those who are willing to face it, is that Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音) is just as real and workable a writing system for Mandarin as is Chinese Braille, which is based on Pīnyīn (Pīn·yīn {Piecing Together of} · Sounds → [Pinyin] 拼音).