This will be my last follow-up to this earlier thread on Pokémon names. I just want to give a shout-out to some of the researchers and their work on Pokémon names ("Pokémonastics") that I learned about from replies posted to the thread.
Shigeto Kawahara seems to be the dominant figure in the field. He was lead author of this paper that demonstrated, among other things, correlation between the length (in moras) of Pokémon names and the size, weight, and evolution status of the Pokémon.
Arthur Lewis Thompson researches iconicity in language at The University of Hong Kong. He gave a really interesting poster presentation comparing the frequencies of different methods of Pokémon name creation across languages.
From what I can tell, nobody has systematically studied what I was interested in exploring in my thread: the presence of cross-linguistic borrowed morphological elements in Pokémon names, like Greek roots or Mandarin words in Japanese names; and Chinese words in English names.
The work that's out there is really cool and interesting, so check it out!
/end
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This is part of a sign in a station on Line #4 of the Seoul subway system.
It’s trilingual.
Um, it is trilingual, right? Or … is it?
Take a moment. Think about it.
It’s in three different scripts, that’s for sure. But is it in three different languages?
When I lived in Seoul I spent a lot of time on the subway. And I spent a lot of time looking at signs in the subway stations. When I looked at signs like this, I thought:
Is this sign in Korean, English, and Chinese ❓
Or maybe … is it in Korean, English, and Japanese ⁉️
And then I thought: Why am I assuming English? Why couldn't "Dongdaemun" be … Dutch? Indonesian? Turkish?
Or even … Korean? 🤔
This raised a thornier question: Is there any way to know for sure how many different languages are being written here?
Within my thread on Pokémon names posted last week, I talked about the English, German, and Japanese names of the three Pokémon pictured here, which make up an evolutionary family.
It’s the fourth and final part of our mega-thread on the Chinese second-person pronoun ‘you’. Let’s get this done!
We’ve been exploring the historical relationship between the modern Mandarin word nǐ 你 and the Classical Chinese word 爾 (which is now pronounced ěr and was once pronounced *neʔ).
We’ve seen already that the spoken word nǐ is a colloquial descendant of the Old Chinese spoken word *neʔ. And we’ve seen that the right side of the written character 你 is an abbreviated form of the character 爾, and is also its modern simplified form 尔.
We've already seen where the Chinese word meaning 'you' (Mandarin nǐ, Cantonese nei5 ~ lei5) comes from: it's a variant form of the Classical Chinese word now pronounced ěr in Mandarin. But where does the written character 你 come from?
This is the second of three unanswered questions from last week’s thread. It’s a circuitous route to the answer: on the way we’ll be discussing looms, balances, Japanese kanji, and 20th-century character simplifications.
We’ll start with the origin of the character for the Classical Chinese second-person pronoun, 爾, which was pronounced something like neʔ in Old Chinese and is ěr in modern Mandarin.
Here's the first unanswered question. It's an important one. We're not used to seeing a change in the written form of a Chinese word that has a clear, continuous history.
The pronunciation of Chinese words has changed a great deal over the last three millennia, but there is nothing special about Chinese in this regard. Equally dramatic pronunciations take place over that time span in any language.
I like thinking about familiar things that turn out to have surprising back stories. The modern Chinese second-person singular pronoun 你 (Mandarin nǐ, Cantonese nei5 or lei5) is one of those things. The history of the spoken word and the written character contains surprises.
When I started learning Chinese, the Mandarin words nǐ ‘you’ and nǐhǎo ‘hello’ were in the first lesson’s vocabulary list, and你 was one of the first Chinese characters that I learned to recognize and write.
These words and this character are also among the first that native Mandarin speakers learn as small children.