Tag: Love

Categories
Culture Current Events Experiences Language Learning

shĂčdĂČng

shĂčdĂČng (shĂč·dĂČng tree · hole → [tree hollow] 树掞 æšč掞) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

Romans 12:15 tells Christian ministers:

Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.

Also, at 1 Corinthians 9:22, the apostle Paul wrote:

To the weak I became weak, in order to gain the weak. I have become all things to people of all sorts, so that I might by all possible means save some.

Ones who grew up exposed to Western culture may find it challenging to understand and relate to people in the Mandarin field, whether householders or publishers, who grew up marinated in Eastern culture. One area in which this is especially true is the expressing or sharing of personal feelings.

Comparing Eastern culture to Western culture, Western culture is generally more encouraging of individual development and individual expression, whereas Eastern culture in contrast encourages subordinating individual concerns to those of the group. This suppression of individual concerns can cause them to get deeply buried inside people, and at times, it goes so far that people feel the need to find unconventional outlets.

One example involves this week’s MEotW, “shĂčdĂČng (shĂč·dĂČng tree · hole → [tree hollow] 树掞 æšč掞)”, which means “tree hollow’. The Wikipedia entry for the Chinese movie In the Mood for Love provides this summary of what one of the movie’s characters said about this:

While dining with a friend, Chow relays a story about how in older times, when a person had a secret that could not be shared, he would instead go atop a mountain, make a hollow in a tree, whisper the secret into that hollow and cover it with mud.

tree hollow
Creative Commons Public Domain logo

A Modern, Digital Version

As our world has become more digitized and people spend more time on the Internet, some relatively obscure corners of it have come to be used by Chinese people as cyber tree hollows. One article in the magazine The World of Chinese discusses a couple of examples:

Mocha Official, an obscure video blogger with just 200 followers on Bilibili, will never know that his homepage has become a sanctuary for the internet’s depressed and lonely. Since the 19-year-old was found dead in his rental home on January 19, his videos—which used to only attract comments in the single digits—have been flooded with over six million danmu (ćŒčćč•, “bullet screen”) messages that flash across the screen in real time, offering condolence and sympathy to the vlogger who can no longer see them.




Viewers’ debates eventually turned to how Mocha’s life and death changed their own attitudes to life. Bilibili has preserved Mocha’s content in a “memorial account,” and it has since then become a “tree hollow (树掞),” a term for spaces on the internet where users can make digital pilgrimages to confess their secrets.


the preserved accounts of the dead often attract netizens moved by the life or death of their owner, or else simply wishing to confide in a listener who will always be there and never betray them. The Weibo page of Dr. Li Wenliang, the Wuhan ophthalmologist who died from Covid-19 in February 2020 and was named a national martyr, is now one of the most frequented “tree hollows” in the Chinese cyberspace.

The article goes on to quote one professor’s explanation of this phenomenon:

“Leaving a message in an anonymous cyber place has a special effect, especially for patients with mental illnesses, who always feel a strong stigma around their disease. People want to confess their private feelings, and cyber tree hollows can fulfill their requirements,” Huang Zhisheng, a professor of computer science at the Free University Amsterdam, tells TWOC. “It’s nice to feel as if someone is listening.”

Listening and Understanding

Indeed, many Chinese people could really benefit from having someone to listen to them, someone to talk to. That emphasizes why it’s especially important for those of us serving in the Chinese fields to apply the scriptures cited at the beginning of this post. A couple of other relevant scriptures are:

The thoughts of a man’s heart are like deep waters,
But the discerning man draws them out.
—Proverbs 20:5

Know this, my beloved brothers: Everyone must be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger,
—James 1:19

Of course, to be able to listen with understanding, and to eventually speak understandably and helpfully, a basic requirement is that we need to become sufficiently proficient with the speech of those we want to help in the Mandarin field—it’s not enough just to be able to mentally recognize a bunch of Chinese characters. As 1 Corinthians 14:8–11 says:

8 For if the trumpet sounds an indistinct call, who will get ready for battle? 9 In the same way, unless you with the tongue use speech that is easily understood, how will anyone know what is being said? You will, in fact, be speaking into the air. 10 It may be that there are many kinds of speech in the world, and yet no kind is without meaning. 11 For if I do not understand the sense of the speech, I will be a foreigner to the one speaking, and the one speaking will be a foreigner to me.

Perhaps it’s true that it’s best to use Chinese characters in some situations, such as when texting or emailing is the best or only communication method available. However, generally, it’s better to talk to someone than to write to someone, if possible, especially when discussing personal matters.

By all means, let us do what it takes to help honest-hearted ones in the Mandarin field who have been “skinned and thrown about like sheep without a shepherd”, so that they can benefit from the love and care provided by Jehovah and his universal family. Let us not keep on being ‘foreigners’ to such ones.—Matthew 9:36.

Categories
Culture Language Learning Languages

Ă i

Ă i (love 爱 愛) ← Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

The Mandarin word for “love”, “ài (love 爱 愛)”, is undoubtedly one of the first Mandarin words learned by Mandarin field language-learners.

One noteworthy thing about the Mandarin word “ài (love 爱 愛)” is that just like the English word “love” can be used as either a verb, as in “to love and be loved”, or a noun, as in “a crazy little thing called love”, “ài (love 爱 愛)” can also be used as either a verb or a noun.

Also noteworthy about the Mandarin word “ài (love 爱 愛)” are the contrasting ways in which it is written using a Traditional Chinese character, a Simplified Chinese character, and PÄ«nyÄ«n (PÄ«n·yÄ«n {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] æ‹ŒéŸł), and what those contrasting ways of writing tell us about those different writing systems:

 

Besides Traditional Chinese characters, Simplified Chinese characters, and PÄ«nyÄ«n (PÄ«n·yÄ«n {Piecing Together} · Sounds → [Pinyin] æ‹ŒéŸł), there is actually also another way in which the Mandarin word for “love” can be written:

Categories
Culture History Language Learning Names Technology

fántǐ‐zì

fĂĄntǐ (fĂĄn·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] çčäœ“ çčé«”)‐zĂŹ (characters 歗) đŸ‘ˆđŸŒ Tap/click to show/hide the “flashcard”

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: æ­Łé«”ć­—; simplified Chinese: æ­Łäœ“ć­—; pinyin: zhĂšngtǐzĂŹ; Zhuyin Fuhao: ă„“ă„„Ë‹ 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: çčé«”ć­—; simplified Chinese: çčäœ“ć­—; pinyin: fĂĄntǐzĂŹ; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄈㄱˊ ㄊㄧˇ ㄗˋ). Users of simplified characters sometimes informally refer to them as “old characters” (Chinese: è€ć­—; pinyin: lǎozĂŹ; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄌㄠˇ ㄗˋ).

Users of traditional characters also sometimes call them “full Chinese characters” (traditional Chinese: 慚體歗; simplified Chinese: ć…šäœ“ć­—; pinyin: quĂĄntǐ zĂŹ; Zhuyin Fuhao: ㄑㄩㄹˊ 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, “fĂĄntǐ (fĂĄn·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] çčäœ“ çčé«”)‐zĂŹ (characters 歗)”. 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 “fĂĄntǐ (fĂĄn·tǐ complicated; complex; difficult · {body → [style] → [typeface; font]} → [traditional Chinese] çčäœ“ çčé«”)” 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 (“濃”), 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” + huĂĄng “yellow” = huĂĄng “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.