This is something I wanted to write about back in mid-July, but it fell victim to my backlog of thousands of e-mails. Now, slowly, slowly, slowly, I'm catching up, and I find that it's still a worthy topic to post on.
[This is a guest post by W. South Coblin in response to these questions which I asked him about the distinction between qing 清 ("clear") and zhuo 濁 ("muddy; turbid") in Chinese language studies:
1. when and how it arose
2. how it functions within traditional Chinese phonology
3. how it correlates with concepts in modern linguistics]
What you’re asking for would require a treatise, or maybe even a monograph on these things, and I must pass on that assignment right now. But I can help you out a little. First of all, these points are dealt with in two handy sources. The first is Jerry [Norman]’s book Chinese, Chapter 2. The index to the book will lead you to the relevant parts of the chapter. The other source is a full exposition of traditional medieval Chinese phonology by Guillaume Jacques. You will find it here. Start reading on p. 6 and then read as much as you find useful.
Anyone who has studied the history of writing in China is aware that the earliest manifestation of the Sinitic script dates to around the 13th century BC, under the Shang Dynasty (ca. 1600- BC). It is referred to as jiǎgǔwén 甲骨文 ("oracle bone writing") and was used primarily (almost exclusively) for the purpose of divination. The most ideal bones for this purpose were ox scapulae, since they were broad and flat, and had other suitable properties, which I shall describe below.
The bones used for divination were prepared by cleaning and then having indentations drilled into their surface, but not all the way through. A hot poker was applied to the declivities, causing cracks to radiate from the heated focal point. This cracking was called bǔ卜, a pictograph of the lines that form in a heat-stressed bone.
I was just thinking how important cows (and their milk) are for Indian people and was surprised that's reflected in such a fundamental word for a family relationship as "daughter" — at least in the popular imagination. Even in a scholarly work such as that of D.N. Jha, The Myth of the Holy Cow (New Delhi: Navayana, 2009), p. 28, we find:
Some kinship terms were also borrowed from the pastoral nomenclature and the daughter was therefore called duhitṛ (= duhitā = one who milks).
That somehow seemed too good to be true, a bit dubious on the surface. To test the equation, I began by bringing together some basic linguistic information acquired on a preliminary web search.
"A Record of Horseback Riding, Written in Bone and Teeth: Close examination of horse remains has clarified the timeline of when equestrianism helped transform ancient Chinese civilization", by Katherine Kornei (11/13/20)
More archeological evidence that the horse, horse riding, and related equestrian technologies and culture came to East Asia from the Eurasian interior before the rise of extensive trade along the Silk Road during the Han Dynasty (202 BC-9 AD), and that these developments had a profound impact on the civilization and political organization of East Asia.
Last night, I was talking to my dad and telling him I was concerned that 2021 would make us miss 2020. He responded with a Russian saying I’d never heard before: “On average, we live pretty well: worse than last year, but definitely better than next year.”
Ah! Autant pour moi, as the French say for "I stand corrected": As much for me. So much for me? … I've just looked up the origin of this expression and in fact it's rather fascinating. People write "autant pour moi" but that is a corruption, a miswriting of "au temps pour moi". "Au temps!" is the order given in the military when one has to repeat a movement from the beginning because of an error. I have absolutely never seen "au temps pour moi" in print and have seen "autant pour moi" many times.
Midway through Tuesday night’s chaotic presidential debate, as President Trump vowed to release his still-private tax returns, Joe Biden shot back at his opponent with a particularly sarcastic jab.
“Millions of dollars, and you’ll get to see it,” Trump said of the amount he claims to have paid.
“When?” the Democratic presidential nominee interjected. “Inshallah?”
There are three panels: on the right is a poem in Spanish by Carlos José Pérez Sámano; there's a fish skeleton in the middle; and on the left, an English version.
[,,,] Experts say the historical reluctance to address mental health in India could be partly due to a lack of terminology. None of India's 22 languages have words that mean "mental health" or "depression."
While there are terms for sadness (udaasi), grief (shok) or devastation (bejasi) in Urdu and other Indian languages, the specific terminology to address different mental illnesses is lacking. That's because the practice of psychiatry is largely Western, said Dr S.K. Chaturvedi, Head of department at the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences (NIMHANS) in Bangalore. "It is easier for people to talk about physical symptoms and illnesses than to express to their families that they are feeling low or depressed," he said.
Yesterday morning I ate breakfast at a Cracker Barrel in Canton, Ohio and in mid-afternoon I had an early dinner at a Dutch Pantry off Route 80 in Pennsylvania. When the waitress gave me the bill, I noticed that she had written "Be Dank mich!" on the back of it. There was also what looked to be like the Chinese character shé 舌 ("tongue"), some scribbled Korean, and another script at the bottom that I didn't take time to examine closely (they kept the check and I was in a hurry to get home before midnight).
Recently a supermarket of this ecofriendly chain opened in my neighborhood. As the initiative seems to be francophone, I suppose the name is a superposition of the French 'ferme' and English 'farm' by way of German spelling. What struck me most was their unbounded enthusiasm for putting little dots on vowels. I can't imagine how most of them are supposed to pronounced, so the dots clearly only serve a decorative purpose. Is the eco-umlaut the successor of the hard rock-umlaut, I wonder.