Tuesday, November 1, 2011

PoL Draft

Please let me know if the organization of the piece is choppy. I know that there are one or two places that need to connect better...

I peered over my grandfather’s shoulder, attempting to catch a glance at the brush that hovered over the paper. Its black-stained hairs glistened as it lowered onto the surface of the white sheet, flowing across the page with hypnotic movements.
Stroke one. Grand jeté. Stroke two. The brush sashays. Stroke three. Dip. Stroke four. Sway.
            “What does that mean?”
            Shui.” Water.
            “Why does that word look so funny?”
            “Each stroke used to be drawn as curves- like the currents in a river. Now, we just write the character like this.”
            “Oh…” I tilted my six-year-old head. “Can you teach me how to write that?”

Written Mandarin, like any artistic masterpiece, is an art that requires the time, patience, and diligence to master. Every written character involves great attentiveness and care; each radical and stroke of every word is as detailed as the refined pigments in a painting. Not only has written Mandarin become an art, but it has also evolved into a thread that, over time, has sewn the multiple East Asian cultures together. This centuries-old written language represents the cultures that have composed the heritage of a people, and it has even carved a cultural identity and history for nations of distinct yet similar traditions.
However, what happens when a heritage within this massive culture tatters the thread- the connection- that binds a people to its beginnings and identity?
In 1949, when China underwent its infamous Cultural Revolution, “the cultural officials within the [Chinese] Cultural Party’s bureaucracy set out to simplify radically the way Chinese was written.” (Gargan) Throughout this “simplification” process, the Chinese government began to reform traditional Mandarin characters. China’s Cultural Party reduced the number of strokes in writing complex traditional characters, and they altered the traditional writing system with this iconoclastic movement. This new written “language,” as a result, has become the official written language of mainland China.
The intention of this particular movement was to increase literacy within the Chinese population. In achieving “total adult literacy [, however,] meant that characters…needed to be redesigned with fewer strokes so they would be easier to remember and write.” (Gargan) But in doing so, the simplification of Mandarin has compromised the depth and soul of this traditional written language.   
 Traditional Mandarin originated as a written communication through pictographs and ideographs. Mandarin was at first a language of pure illustrations: the word “mountain” would look like a mountain; the word “man” would look like a man. These pictures or basic symbols later composed the thousands of ideographs within this language. (Peterson)
Take the word lin (), or “forest,” for example. This character is based upon the word mu (), or “wood.” Forest, in the most basic definition, is an area filled with trees. Lin was formed by writing two “wood” or “trees” together; thus, the term “forest” illustrates the definition of “multiple trees.” Thousands of traditional characters have been formed based upon the simple idea of placing different characters or radicals, each with their own distinct meaning, together to produce a character that expresses a larger and more complex idea. (Peterson)
When simplified Mandarin was established, its new writing practices buried these long-settled traditional ideas. As officials continued to develop simplified Mandarin, they created a whole new written language, a form of communication barely comparable to its traditional style. Through traditional characters, one could decipher the distinct meanings by evaluating each and every detailed stroke and radical; on the other hand, no correlation exists between the simplified characters and the origin of the actual words.
Traditional Mandarin was actually an evolution from the original language as well. Ancient scholars had actually simplified the written Mandarin language to form the current and familiar traditional form. The Asian culture, over the centuries, simplified their original pictographs and ideographs into strokes and characters to form this traditional writing style.
But if written Mandarin was already simplified in the past, then why should there be a restriction from further simplifying this written language?
The reason is: the difference of intentions behind this doing.
The current traditional Mandarin evolved from a basic simplification of drawings; people transformed these detailed drawings into strokes so that the process of writing would be less tedious. These ancient scholars wished to maintain the origin of the word, and they did not stray from the roots of these characters. Political purposes, however, ignited the founding of simplified Mandarin; “…the rationale and objectives were always deeply political.” (Peterson 108) The founders of the Communist Cultural Party were not purely seeking to “ease” the burden of learning and writing Mandarin characters. Instead they intended to mold a divergent culture, a new world much different than their ancient traditions.
In cultivating their new “culture,” the Chinese government has educated their citizens through simplified Mandarin. Thousands of students and adults, even beyond mainland China, have been taught the language through simplified writing.
Teaching simplified Mandarin, however, is like teaching the English language through “texting language.” When English is taught to students, the structure and form of the language is the basis of this language education.  If taught properly, a student would be able to learn and construct simple phrases, such as “I have to go. I am going to be late.” However, if they are taught the simplified “texting language,” these students would be unaware of the foundations of the communication. As a result, their knowledge of this language would be vague and imprecise: “I gtg. I’m gonna b L8.
Supporters of simplified Mandarin argue that simplified is much easier write: ““Traditional Mandarin? Why must we learn that written language? Simplified is easy enough- it’s simplified!”
Although simplified Mandarin is easier to write, traditional is easier to learn. Traditional characters offer a greater number of indicators of word definitions and origins; their radicals and other symbols serve as pieces to a language “puzzle”. By learning traditional Mandarin, students would develop a better familiarity with these characters. In the end, their well-developed retention of these characters would allow the process of writing traditional words to be just as easy. Simplified Mandarin does not possess the in-depth qualities that enrich the learning of this language. In fact, simplified Mandarin “may actually retard character recognition by eliminating culture cues that formerly may have aided recognition and by reducing the distinctiveness of individual characters.” (Peterson 108)
It is inevitable, however, to avoid simplified Mandarin. This form of written language proliferated to almost every country within the past decades; even the United Nations uses simplified Mandarin! (“United Nations…”)  Although it has become the most popular form of written Mandarin, simplified Mandarin must not compose the face of this ancient language.
China’s 1950s-1960s Cultural Revolution is not East Asia’s cultural revolution. A large portion of the Asian culture has already established traditional writing as their main communication between the different Asian countries. Taiwan, Macau, Hong Kong, and Korea- to name a few- are countries that have centered their cultural language around traditional Mandarin. Even though their spoken and written languages differ, these countries are able to read and recognize these traditional characters. These characters have become the bond and thread that represent the Asian cultural heritage.
Without these ancient roots, the antique voices of the Asian culture can no longer speak, no longer live. Without these ancient roots, a people will wither away.
Their leaves will rust, their bark will shred, and, alas, their branches will fall.

“Why can’t I write this correctly? It looks so ugly!” The word looked so strange, so distorted.
The brush slammed against the white sheet.
“You need to practice. If you keep practicing, writing this word will become easier. I have written Mandarin for my whole life. You are just starting.”
“Still… I won’t be able to write as pretty as you do…”
“Just keep practicing.”
Grand jeté. Sashay. Dip. Sway. Grand jeté. Sashay…

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