Songs of People at Work and Play

Arbiter have released the fifth volume of their Japanese Traditional Music series: Songs of People at Work and Play. As usual, there’s a long blog post about it with background, plus links to the liner notes, additional notes (texts and translations), and Japanese notes. So note enthusiasts are very well served here.

For those who came in late, the Japanese Traditional Music series is a cleaned-up and digitized version of a government-sponsored 60-shellac-disc anthology of traditional Japanese music from the early 1940s. 60 discs = 120 sides, and since there are 24 tracks on each of Arbiter’s releases, this fifth volume concludes the set. They’re all on Apple Music, too.

Umi no sachi, Yama no sachi

Kyushu University have made two ehaisho 絵俳書 “illustrated haiku books” from the 1760s available online: Umi no sachi 海の幸 (“Bounty of the mountains”) and its sequel Yama no sachi 山の幸 (“Bounty of the sea”), edited by Sekijukan Shūkoku 石寿観秀国, illustrated by Katsuma Ryūsui 勝間竜水. Pictures of marine and montane (respectively) flora and fauna, plus haiku to go with.

These two books join the rest of KU’s Rare Books Collection (check the “With fulltext” option to limit your search to items that you can view online). They’re also at Waseda University’s Japanese and Chinese Classics, but the versions there appear to be different and KU’s scans are much crisper.

(Via Kasama Shoin.)

New Aozora Bunko search engine

Hoyt Long and the ARTFL project have released a decent search interface for Aozora Bunko. There’s even a video tutorial on YouTube, so masochists needn’t feel left out. (To be fair, I wouldn’t want to spend hours taking screenshots and assembling them into a written guide either.)

The announcement blog post promises “additional tutorials and information about the history and make-up of this unique collection”—sounds good!

No-one tells me anything (Medieval French edition)

Last October, the Works of Guillaume Machaut project finally released volume 1 of The Complete Poems and Music: The Debate Series. (You can read the whole thing, including translation by R. Barton Palmer, online at that link.)

Car tant m’a fait compaignie
Que c’est niant dou depart,
Ne que jamais, par nul art,
Soit sa pointure garie.

Zonamoshi hunting”

Added to Aozora Bunko on January 2: a short story called Zonamoshi-gari ぞなもし狩り (“Zonamoshi hunting”) by Toh EnJoe 円城塔. Note the pink background to the page, indicating that the copyright holder has elected to add the work to Aozora Bunko without actually relinquishing the copyright.

What is a zonamoshi? A sentence ending in the Iyo dialect of Japanese (spoken in Ehime prefecture; Iyo was the name of the province that Ehime replaced), made famous by Natsume Sōseki in his early novel Botchan.

As EnJoe Toh stories go, this is more “doing donuts in the parking lot” than “heading off for uncharted territory,” but since the donuts are in classic EnJoe style and the parking lot is shared by Japanese dialectology and Modern Japanese literature as well as Beppu itself (I mean metaphorical Beppu, not like a physical parking lot outside Beppu), I enjoyed it.

Apparently this was written for an event at Beppu University, and the works by the other participants have also been added to AB: Gurōbaru Tawā ni te グローバルタワーにて (“At Global Tower”) by Hukunaga Thin 福永信, and Yukemuri 湯けむり (“Steam clouds”) by Sawanishi Yūten 澤西祐典.

One Hundred Forms of Seal Script Calligraphy

Here’s an interesting book I found in Waseda’s Database of Japanese and Chinese Classics: A Thousand Characters and One Hundred Forms of Seal Script Calligraphy by Sages from Successive Dynasties 歴朝聖賢篆書百体千文, apparently by Sun Zhixiu 孫枝秀 and Zhou Hong 周霟. (English translation of title courtesy of Rebekah Clements’ A Cultural History of Translation in Early Modern Japan.)

I’m skeptical that any sage found much use for “crane script” 寉書 (p 39, far left) or “turtle script” 亀書 (p 23, second from left), let alone “great pole seal script” 太極篆 (p 40, second from left), but I’m pretty sure I independently invented “wooden tablet writing” 木簡文 (p 49, far right) on my binder in middle school.

Nominalizing with no

Sakai Mika 坂井美日’s “Historical Development of the Nominalization Construction in the Kamigata Dialect of Japanese” (上方語における準体の歴史的変化) was selected by the Society of Japanese Linguistics as one of the two best papers they published that year. Here’s the abstract, with year ranges added by me:

This paper examines two types of nominalization (zero type and no-type henceforth) found in the Kamigata variety of Classical Japanese, with an exclusive focus on argument positions. It aims to give an account of the historical development of the no-type nominalization based on the following two facts. First, the nominalizer no started to be employed as a regular means to nominalize (i.e. head a noun phrase carrying) the adnominal clause two hundred years or so after it first began to attach to adnominal clauses in the Middle Japanese. During this period, the nominalization construction was used both for the referential and event uses with no statistically significant difference in frequency. Second, the no-type nominalization started to replace the zero type first in the referential use (during the Meiwa-An’ei era [1764–1781] to the Kansei-Bunka era [1789–1818]) then in the event use (during the Bunsei-Tenpo era [1818–1844] to Taisho era [1912–1926]). These facts indicate that there is no reason to believe that no was originally a pronoun designating a person or thing. Rather, it is reasonable to assume that the morpheme was a cognate of the genitive no, which does not have any specific referent. Furthermore, it is argued that the development of the no-type nominalization over the zero type is more naturally explained by addressing the structural reanalysis that occurred in the referential use of nominalization than the loss of the distinction between the conclusive and adnominal forms as often argued in the literature. This hypothesis is supported by the data from other dialects.

In Classical Japanese, the adnominal form (rentaikei 連体形) of a verb can function as a noun all on its own. Sakai gives two examples, both from the Tale of Genji (translations below added by me):

(1) a. 花の下に歩きて散りたるを多く拾ひて [“Walking below the flowers and picking up many of those that had fallen…”]
    b.(風が吹き花が) 乱れ落つるがいと口惜しうあたらしければ [“The scattering [of the flowers in the wind] being most pathetic…”

(Incidentally, (1)a is what the abstract calls “referential use” [形状タイプ], while (1)b is “event use” [事柄タイプ]. In the former case, the verb is to be understood as a modifier—“[the Z that] Ys”—while in the latter, it refers to the act itself: “Y-ing”.)

The contemporary Japanese equivalents of these sentences need a no (or similar) to nominalize the verb:

(2) a. 散ったを多く拾って
    b. 花が乱れ落ちるがとても口惜しい

When did this change, and why? As Sakai explains, neither question has been satisfactorily answered yet. There is a vague idea that it was because when the conclusive form (shūshikei 終止形) merged with the adnominal, the no might have been added to help distinguish the two cases, but (again relying on Sakai) that is hard to believe because there is a multiple-century time lag involved.

Sakai’s argument is that the no started being added to these verb forms by analogy with “genitive + no” constructions (e.g. Ise ga no), where the no is basically redundant. Adnominal + no then survived for a couple of centuries as a rare variant of plain adnominal until, for some reason (Sakai offers a couple of reasonable-sounding theories but no firm conclusion), people decided that plain referential-use adnominals weren’t sufficient, upon which adding a no became more common and eventually required.. Event-use adnominals lagged behind, but caught up by the early 20th century.

From this, as mentioned in the abstract, it follows that the no in contemporary uses like chitta no “those that fell” was not descended from a word that means “thing” or similar, as is sometimes theorized (based on the similarity to constructions like chitta mono “things that fell,” where mono is unambiguously a noun). Instead, it comes directly from good old genitive no, and doesn’t really mean anything.

That is, when we say chitta no, the no might feel like a (formal) noun, but etymologically speaking we’re still using a very nearly plain adnominal with only the sparsest of syntactic decoration.

No-sword Zoku begins

Alert readers may have noticed that No-sword hasn’t been updated in almost a year. The reason is hubris. The solution is to give up and start again.

To explain: No-sword ran on a monstrous tangle of scripts and YAML parsers written by me in Ruby and running on my home computer. When I set up this system, I assumed that updating and relocating it as necessary would be no big deal. I could just handle it the way I handled all programming tasks: Work at it for hours and hours over the weekend until it was done.

Now, though, I have kids.

I gave myself an entire year, but I was not able to find the time to maintain my decade-old codebase. Time to give up and move to WordPress. And rather than spending another year not finding the time to import my old posts into the database (remember, they’re in a custom YAML format, and half of them were ineptly screen-scraped from an old Blogger account), I decided to just start a new blog.

So, welcome to No-sword Zoku. Is that Zoku in the sense of “continued” (続), or in the sense of “vulgar, popular, common” (俗)? The answer is yes.