Last Tuesday, I was finally able to implement a plan for a Japanese lesson I’d had my heart set on: using sushi to teach Japanese vocabulary. It was a strong success. Somehow, people just remember things about food very well. It must be genetic.
Sushi comes in wide varieties. The picture above is funamori, and to explain simply, fune is Japanese for “ship.” More broadly, think of the English word vessel and you might grasp the rest: it’s sushi served in a vessel of some sort. In ancient times, this was usually a lobster shell, but the “ship” theme caught on, and anything looking like a ship or boat or what have you, is employed to serve funamori style sushi.
The objective reason for using this in a lesson was to provide vocabulary for the formation of sentences. Forming useful sentences at an early date is the entire focus of my current style, and part of it is for critical short term reasons: keeping morale high, giving the learner a sense of advancement and progress, and driving the level of frustration to a low and insignificant level. It’s not just about having fun; really, it’s not. It’s about the feeling of empowerment vs. helplessness.
Of course, helplessness is a normal feeling for people learning Japanese. Hence, why I seek to dispel it.
Besides this, the verb I use as the penultimate beginner’s verb is taberu, “To Eat.” Having a verb for eating without discussing anything to eat is a rather impoverished way to go about it.
Besides this, I strive to never forget that the Japanese language is a bridge to culture, with food culture being one important aspect of this. Learning the language is important, but we must not lose sight of what learning language is for.
The next lesson with this particular girl will concern where and when eating is taking place, or is to take place, or with whom it takes place. This allows us to focus on particles we have not yet addressed. Simplicity is important to ingrain the early steps, but it is also important to follow up. Fortunately, I am very pleased with overall progress and the “sushi lesson” (which she enjoyed greatly) seems to have sunk in quite well. I can throw in sushi terminology in future lessons, essentially at random, to have fun and, more importantly, further ingrain this useful terminology.
So, having fun is great, but using fun to enhance learning is fantastic. That, at least, is my personal opinion, backed up by my personal experiences. Everyone should give it a taste, so to speak. – J
]]>So, I was trying to catch up on reading the Gakuranman blog (I finally got around to putting it in my blogroll section here, which I have been neglecting for too long) and I see a site called Skitter being reviewed. It’s another one of these sites for learning Chinese and/ or Japanese kanji. Except it seems to require credit card info for a free trial. So, I’m not going to be touching the nuts and bolts of it.
Having said that…
This entire topic rather annoys me.
Part of this site’s attraction is the idea of using a mouse, or more effectively, a tablet, to draw kanji on a computer screen as a method for learning them. If you’re wondering what advantage this would have over doing this with a brush, ink and paper, there isn’t any advantage. You can stop wondering now.
More importantly, either you’re going to be physically drawing kanji, or not. If you’re not, the only reason to practice the stroke order is to force yourself to look at the kanji, stare at them, think about them, and use that as a way to memorize more.
Having said that, this isn’t like wood carving. Your brain isn’t going to remember kanji by feel alone. There’s too many of them, and that’s not really how this process works.
I’ve written about this before, but it bears repeating: Kanji are concepts in image form. That’s where they come from, and that’s what they all function as, on some level.
I’ve read the introduction to Remembering the Kanji where the author writes about the ridiculousness of trying to associate the sun to the kanji for sun. (日) Well it’s more that you associate the kanji with the sun, not the other way around. The kanji represents the concept; the concept does not represent the kanji.
So that’s one thing.
I never made more e-books like the one below due to a catastrophic lack of feedback, but never mind that. The point of what is below is really simple: use it and you won’t lose it. It is using kanji yourself to form intelligent, complete sentences (starting with short ones) that makes you literate and fluent in Japanese.
The whole problem with flash cards and these methods is that they teach you how to remember this kanji or that kanji, but you’re not creatively employing them. Writing individual kanji by stroke pales in comparison with dynamically using the ideas advanced by the kanji, and the words they are used to form, in actual, living Japanese.
Instead of following the Path of Shura and going through hell, and instead of trying to pick the easy path that appears to be a shortcut, I urge all those seeking to learn kanji to follow the good path, and learn kanji not for a test, not for an exam, but for life.
You do that by making kanji a part of real language. Real language that you yourself are using.
Granted, when I thought this up, it was in the context of my providing the kind of strong feedback required to really pull this off well. My kanji presentations might be big and good looking, but ultimately it’s what the learner does with them that defines the quality of the learning.
The point is, I can sit across the table and listen to someone speak and say, yes, that’s good. Or, if need be, I can say, good but, you could have put it like this. Or, no, a word was mispronounced, let’s work on that and try again.
Using kanji creatively, building sentences around them, making the concepts work together in different ways… it’s building something that’s tangible in the mind of the learner. It leads to a real sense of accomplishment. It leads to permanent knowledge and knowing how to build even higher on a firm, rock solid foundation, rather than on a house of flash cards.
It just pains me to see this or that shortcut come along. It’s not a numbers game. It’s about building a core around which peripheral aspects of the language can be built. That’s when the process of discovery is simply pure fun again.
Anyway, that concludes that.
This is a 60 second video lesson with good looking animals and the Japanese names for them (along with the English, not because viewers are unintelligent, but because it may help provide an audio memory anchor for better remembering). Thanks. – J
]]>This is a little video on Japanese sentence structure, narrated by yours truly, Jeremiah Bourque, as used in my private Japanese tutoring lessons. Thank you very much.
]]>trust me おろしてみればいい そう 君のために 僕がいるんだ
trust me / just put it down and see yes, I’m right here for you
OK, now we’re getting into the heavy stuff. Good, good.
Keep in mind that the subject is the “baggage” that the listener has been “carrying” (from Line Eight).
“Orosu” means “To Put Down.” Japanese: おろす、下ろす。 “Miru” means “To See.” Japanese: みる、見る。
This is a compound verb combining the two.
To begin with, “oroshite” is the -te form (continuative form) of “orosu.”
Second, “mireba” is the conditional form of “miru.” That is, “See this, and X will happen.”
Put it all together, and you get “oroshitemireba,” or, “if you put down (the baggage you’re carrying) and see, X will happen.”
This is a plain, colloquial version of “yoi,” which uses the same kanji. Japanese: いい、良い.
Let’s get past the strict definitions and focus on what this really is, when used as a suffix like this: A Stamp of Goodness. It identifies what immediately precedes it as a Good Thing that should be thought of as such.
So, with the “baggage you’re carrying” from Line 8 as the subject:
(You can) trust me / just put it down and see
Now, we could leave the “yes” at the end of the phrase, but I’ll leave that for singers to decide. I think this works better as English: intensifier first, key phrase second.
Used in this way, “sou” (Japanese: そう) is an affirmative intensifier. You know when singers go “Yes!” at the end of a line? It’s like that.
Technically it’s used for things like “sou ka,” which reads like “Is that so?” but… not really here. It’s part of a statement, not a question. (No “ka” particle to be found.)
The “kimi” is a 2nd person pronoun. We’ve covered this in previous parts.
The particle “no” establishes a relationship between the preceding and the following parts. (“kimi” and “tame”)
“Tame” means, in essence, sake/ benefit. Thus, this is “for your sake” (for the sake of “kimi”). There. It’s simple, so let’s not make it more complicated in a case where it’s really plain and obvious. Japanese: ため、為 (kanji would be used in formal high level writing, not for anything meant for teen consumption)
Just the particle identifying the “kimi no tame” part as modifying what follows.
Introvert 1st person (“I”) pronoun, usually used by men. We’ve gone over this one, too. Japanese: ぼく、ボク、僕
This is the “subject” particle. Remember, in Japanese, the topic and the subject can be different. “Ga” is used, when necessary, to mark a noun as the subject of the verb that follows. In this case, the subject is “boku,” above. Japanese: が
This is the existence/ presence verb for animate objects, which we covered two Parts ago in Part 8. This completes the phrase, “boku ga iru” (“I am here”). Japanese: いる、居る
Another copula, an affirmative existence sentence ender. In other words, “iru” may affirm that “boku” is present, but “nda” affirms that this is indeed so and not just your imagination. Japanese: んだ
Now, let’s go over a few of these:
Polite non-past affirmative: desu
Plain non-past affirmative: da
Old polite non-past affirmative: no da
Old plain non-past affirmative: nda
Now, I’m characterizing this as “old,” but at any rate, “no da” sounds like antiquated Japanese. As a consequence, “nda” sounds more adult and mature than “da” and is frequently used as a mature-sounding copula in Japanese, particularly by adult men.
So, in this case, the speaker is sounding older than a 12 year old, but still using “boku.” This is why Japanese has a lot of nuance to it.
The thing is, “for your sake” may be technically correct, but in English colloquial speech, “for you” carries the same meaning and sounds much more vivid. So:
Yes, I’m right here for you
That’s all we need.
I’m here どこにいたって call me ひとつになれる
I’m here / no matter where you are call me / we’ll become one
Once again, “ni” shows that the word preceding it modifies the verb after it. “Doko” is Japanese for “where.” Japanese: どこ, 何処 (not often seen as kanji in regular writing)
Here, this is a form of the verb “iru” (Japanese: いる、居る), which is the “existence/ presence” verb for animate objects, i.e. people or animal.
Rather than dwell on verb details, here’s the bottom line: using -tte here is using it as an intensifier, to make the verb stronger in a colloquial manner. This is a common enough feature of informal speech.
That is why I have rendered it as “no matter where you are.” After all, the sentence doesn’t define the listener as being anywhere in particular; she could be anywhere, but no matter where that person is, the singer’s “I’m here” will remain true. It’s simple extrapolation.
Let’s cover this as one phrase.
Here, “hitotsu” means one, as in, becoming one. “Ni” fulfills the same role as before.
“Naru” is “To Become,” and the kanji for it is identified with growth. Thus, something “grows into” something else rather than presto, wave of a magic wand, it has transformed into something else. That’s a different word. Japanese: なる、成る
So, “nareru” is a potential form of “naru.” This is different from conditional forms in this way:
Conditional: If we become one, X will happen
Potential: If X happens, we will become one
Clearly, this phrase is written in the latter manner. Thus: Call me -> as a result, we will become one.
]]>We’re already up to part #7! Yes, it’s a long work in progress, but explaining things the right way takes time.
変わることのない 愛はきっとここにある
That’s not something that’ll change surely there is love here
Once again, a non-standard kanji is being used ( but in this case, it’s still in my first resort electronic dictionary). This is “kawaru,” the verb “To Be Changed.” It is very important to understand exactly how I wrote that definition: “To Be Changed.” Grammatically speaking, this isn’t like changing your hairstyle; it is to be fundamentally different. As in the cliche, to “be a new man” would apply. Japanese: かわる、変わる
Let’s get this out of the way.
Both koto and mono refer to what we call, in English, things. However, there is a fundamental difference.
Koto refers to intangible things.
Mono refers to tangible, physical things.
In other words, love is a koto and an apple is a mono. This is a very, very important distinction to make. Japanese: こと、事
Here, I added “That” to the sentence because this is a reference to the end of Line 6: the fact that “you’re not alone.”
This is simply a more profound-sounding version of ja nai, covered previously. Unless you’re writing poetry, best to lay off this one. Japanese: のない
“Ai” is the Japanese word for the koto (intangible thing) we call love. Though, to be really technical, it’s affection. There is a more specific word for romantic affection, but we won’t get into that right now. This kind of love can apply to parents and children (between each other), to family pets, and so on. It is stronger than the idiomatic suki (Like) and its emphatic cousin daisuki (Like A Lot), which are used as “love” while trying not to sound too corny. Japanese: あい、愛
Topic particle again. Refer to past articles.
OK, this is a new one. “Kitto” means surely, undoubtedly, etc. In other words, it says colloquially that there is certainty in something. It is not “absolute” certainty – there’s another word for that – but it’s very high probability, and is usually used idiomatically to imply complete certainty, even if “literally” it is not. Japanese: きっと
This stands for “here, which is near to me.” Japanese: ここ (I won’t list the kanji, it’s too rare and for advanced students, and tests, only)
This particle, once again, indicates that what preceded it (in this case, “koko”) modifies what follows. Japanese: に
This is the Japanese existence verb for inanimate objects (i.e. not people, not animals). Here, the subject of the verb is “ai” (love). Japanese: ある、有る
So, this is telling us that the fact the listener isn’t alone isn’t something that will change. In addition, the speaker is very certain that there is love here.
The fact we’re talking about the same speaker isn’t explicit in the grammar, but it doesn’t have to be. So, we can do something like this:
That’s not something that’ll change I’m sure there’s love, right here
This is more localization, but hey, it’s not that bad, is it?
小さな不安さえ 僕が摘み取ってあげる
If you feel a little unease I’ll snatch it away
“Chiisa” is the root of this irregular adjective. Usually, we read this as “chiisai” for small. However, it is irregular because it becomes “chiisa na” when it is the last adjective (or the only adjective) directly in front of the noun. Japanese: ちいさな、小さな
When we see “chiisai,” it is actually fulfilling the role of a noun itself.
Here’s an example from my anime history: the character from Martian Successor Nadesico self-styled as “Daigouji Gai” (let’s call him just “Gai” hereafter) who berated the main character, Tenkawa Akito (“Akito” hereafter) for not saying a very mecha anime-ish line at the top of his lungs the first time. The rebuke read as follows:
“Koe ga chiisai!!!” (Japanese: 「声が小さい!!」)
Your voice is small. Or too small, rather. It’s like when a drill sergeant says to your face at maximum volume, “I can’t hear you!!” It’s the same message, just with different grammar.
So, here, “chiisai” is actually treated as a noun. What is your voice? Your voice is small. If the sentence was, “You have a small voice,” then “small” would be acting as a proper adjective. That is not the case here.
So, when “chiisai” acts as a proper adjective directly in front of a noun, as in the last example, it becomes “chiisa na”: “Chiisa na koe da.” (Japanese: 「小さな声だ。」)
That’s why it’s “chiisa na” in these lyrics.
As we can see from the adjective preceding it – and that’s an important clue – “fuan” is a noun here. This is a compound kanji word (two kanji). Japanese: ふあん、不安)
The character 不 is a lot like “un-” in English. 安 is like “ease.” Thus, unease, as a noun.
No need to make this any more complicated.
Normally, this is a more advanced trick I wouldn’t teach to early intermediate learners (and certainly not to beginners), but here we are. Japanese: さえ
A dictionary might tell you that this means “even.” Rather, in a sentence like this, we must read it like “even if.”
To wit:
Even if (you have) a little unease,
The (you have) is unstated, but I would feel uncomfortable leaving it like “Even if there is a little unease,” because that’s impersonal and against the grain of the rest of the lyrics here.
We’ve covered this before: the introvert male’s 1st person pronoun. Japanese: ぼく、ボク、僕
Once again, this is a subject marker, as distinct from a topic. This makes the “boku” above the direct subject of the verb that follows. Japanese: が (never katakana or kanji when as a particle)
This is a doozy: a compound verb with a continuative (-te) form followed by another verb. Japanese: つかみとってあげる、掴み取って上げる
To “tsukamu” (the first verb) is, put bluntly, to grab. It is also used for “grappling” and “capturing” (in a grapple). You would see this verb used plenty in regards to judo, professional wrestling, Olympic wrestling, and so forth. “Grasping” may also apply depending on the specific context used.
To “toru” (the second verb) is to take. Nothing complicated here.
Put “grab” and “take” together, and you get snatching, plucking or ripping off. In other words, a) grabbing on, b) pulling/ taking.
All I have done is use the most idiomatic translation possible.
To “ageru” (the third verb) is to offer up. The kanji means “up.” This is used in the sense of giving to someone else in a humble manner (i.e. you as the lower social status person in the exchange). This is the opposite of “kudasaru,” くださる・下さる, which uses the “down” kanji and is used for making humble requests to someone else so that the other person may provide you with something out of the goodness of his or her own heart.
No, really, that’s how it works. You raise others and lower yourself if you want to be polite in Japan. “Up” and “down” serve this purpose in writing the verbs down. Don’t make it complicated if you don’t have to.
So, what does it all mean here?
Here, the ageru part is essentially broadcasting that the “tsukamitoru” part (I’m showing you this without the -te, FYI) is doing the listener a favor, something given as a gift. It’s once again closing the emotional distance between the speaker and the listener. In other words, it’s written “polite” but idiomatically, it’s an intensifier that indicates closeness.
My translation added the word “away” to form the phrasal verb, “snatch away.” To me, this provides the emphasis that the original writer intended without in any way altering the full meaning: if you have a little unease, I will snatch it away.
Of course, we could substitute “if you have” for “if you feel.” It’d work. The point in not explicitly writing the verb there, aside from reducing clutter (always a big priority in Japanese), is to let the reader/ listener decide for himself or herself, and generally, to not worry too much about the words, but to feel the emotions at work.
That’s why translation/ localization needs to honor the original intent, not the wording, when push comes to shove.
]]>ちゃんと聞こえている 君の心の聲
I’m hearing loud and clear the voice of your heart
“Chanto” is a word that means “properly, perfectly, exactly.” It is, thus, equivalent to the English idiom, “loud and clear.” There are other ways to read this, but it is all about paying full and proper attention in a case like this. Japanese: ちゃんと
This combines “Kikoeru” (here: “To Hear, To Listen”) with “iru,” which we have already covered. This creates the continuative verb, “kikoeteiru,” which means simply “to be in a state of hearing/ listening.” Japanese: きこえている、聞こえている
Like other continuative verbs, this implies the continuation of a state of being. In other words, not just listening, but the expectation that the speaker will continue to listen for some time.
The 2nd person pronoun “kimi” is used as a familiar, “we’re close acquaintances at minimum” pronoun. It’s plain/ informal, but at the high end of politeness for plain/ informal. It tends to be used by teachers towards students, implying a friendly relationship that is not family, and not implying anything inappropriate. So, its role here must be understood as being somewhere between these extremes. Japanese: きみ、君
The particle “no” indicates that a relationship exists between different nouns. It is not an apostrophe + s (such as, Brenda‘s hair dryer, Ronald‘s old car), though the relationship can be a possessive one; it’s just not necessarily a possessive relationship 100% of the time. In this case, though, it is indeed a possessive relationship: your heart. Japanese: の
The kanji for “kokoro” is quite literally a pictograph of the human heart. In Japanese, “kokoro” carries the literal and figurative meanings of “heart”; thus, “kokoro” does include the sense of the emotional core, the spirit, the emotional part of the human mind. Japanese: こころ、心
An example of why this need not be thought of as ‘s (in the possessive sense) is right here. Instead of “Your heart’s (something),” we can easily write “The (something) of your heart.” I have opted for the latter.
Once again, the writer decided to be cute and use an outdated, overly complicated kanji meaning “koe,” or “voice.” The meaning is otherwise the same as English. Japanese: こえ、声.
In the pros, “localization” means “translation adapted to the target dialect and linguistic culture.” London English would be a hard sell in the United States, for instance.
In American English, it is considered acceptable, and common, to substitute “hear” for “am listening.” It may not be 100% grammatically correct, but the way people hear it, it’s so close that it is treated as an idiomatic way to say “am listening.”
Also, we could change the sentence order a bit.
To wit:
I hear the voice of your heart loud and clear
This would be just fine.
Often, there cannot be one “true” translation, simply because the grammar works differently in both languages. Here, what was really important was understanding how these words were meant to be understood in native Japanese. How they relate to English must, by nature, be slightly imperfect. However, what’s important is to listen (kikoeru) to the voice (koe) of the heart (kokoro) of the original Japanese words. It’s much more important to carry the spirit of the original than to be bogged down in technicalities.
Trust me/ for we are connected just go on, feel this warmth
The original uses a non-standard kanji variation that I have not used here. It is clearly identical to the kanji 繋 as in 繋がる (つながる). I have verified this with Google. The writer of the lyrics was clearly being cute.
Often, a non-standard kanji is one that has been dropped by recent language reforms in favor of a simpler, yet just as effective kanji. If it’s visually simpler, and has the same meaning, why not? It’s a process that has been taking place in Asian languages for many centuries.
The verb tsunagaru means, “to be connected, to be linked together.” (A more literal meaning would be to be “tied together.”) To add iru (refer to Part 1 if necessary) makes this a non-past state of being that is expected to continue into the future. In plainer English, it means, “(We) are connected together.”
Now, what are we connected together with, or by? That’s back in Part 2. That is, “by an invisible thread.”
This is the same “kara” that was covered in Part 1. Similar to the first line, this leads to essentially:
We are connected by an invisible thread. Therefore, trust me.
“Tada” translates very well to “just” when used in a sentence in this manner. “Only” would be another way to read this, if appropriate, but does not flow well here. Japanese: ただ, 只
This is a continuative tense (-te form) version of “kanjiru” (Japanese: かんじる、感じる), “To Feel,” combined with the -te form of iru right after. I’m not really sure this is “proper Japanese” at all; in fact, I’m fairly confident it is not, but it has a strong idiomatic component that I want to go over.
Proper Japanese has an imperative sense which is telling, not asking the listener to do something. The imperative has two levels: plain, and ALL CAPS. Ahem; I jest. Rather, the levels are plain and abrupt (that is, quite rude and abrasive). This is the sort of tone the father takes when telling the disobedient child to eat his veggies.
Now, the continuative tense is supposed to, you know, continue into another verb. What if we just stop the verb there? What if we just leave an implication hanging in the air? This effect is what I dub “the soft imperative,” which is absolutely not a formal connotation.
In this case, “kanjite” is urging the listener to feel. It is telling, not asking, but it is “telling” in the nicest way possible. It is using idiomatic Japanese to give a linguistic nudge to the listener: do this, okay?
Adding “ite” to the end retains the tone that “kanjite” would have had if it was on its own. In other words, as a continuative verb, the “kanjite” part is correct, but the “ite” part had to be used to add the technically-incorrect-but-helpfully-idiomatic spin.
This applies the soft imperative “tense” to the verb, “kanjiteiru.” That is, don’t just feel this for one moment, but continue feeling this into the foreseeable future.
“Kono” means “this, which is close, relative to me.” Japanese: この、此の (kanji rarely used except in high level language tests or very formal texts)
The same kanji that is used for the adjective “warm,” “atatakai” (Japanese: あたかたい、温かい) is also used for native Japanese words for warmth, “nukumi” and “nukumori.” We are covering the latter here. As there are other, simpler options, we may consider this a more poetic way to refer to warmth than some other options. Japanese: ぬくもり、温もり