Essays on Chinese Characters for Children (Reflections on “Characters Like Stars”)

写给孩子的汉字随笔(《字若星辰》读后感)

 
 
When I received the man­u­script of Words Like Stars from Teacher Qun­fang, I quick­ly print­ed it out and then read it care­ful­ly, know­ing that such text is not suit­able for quick brows­ing on a com­put­er. More­over, a book that dis­cuss­es words with such respect and ele­gance seems to have a deep­er mean­ing only when print­ed on paper.

 
 
Teacher Qun­fang is a class­mate I met while attend­ing a chil­dren’s lit­er­a­ture work­shop in Jin­hua led by Mr. Jiang Feng. She’s a long­time front­line Chi­nese lan­guage teacher, but con­trary to my stereo­type of Chi­nese teach­ers, she pos­sess­es a gen­uine­ly fairy-tale-inspired spir­it. I once lis­tened to her describe how she taught a first-grade read­ing class, where they sat on the lawn on a beau­ti­ful sun­ny day, read­ing “The Run­away Bun­ny.” I imag­ined the scene and was cap­ti­vat­ed. Lat­er, when I read her essay col­lec­tion, “Qui­et­ly Lis­ten­ing to the Flow­ers Bloom,” I real­ized how deeply she loved words. Her writ­ing exudes a qui­et sen­si­bil­i­ty and the tran­quil­i­ty that per­haps char­ac­ter­izes the tal­ent­ed women of Jiang­nan. I won­dered if she had­n’t become a Chi­nese lan­guage teacher. The four char­ac­ters she chose for the title per­fect­ly cap­ture the sen­ti­ment of a gar­den­er, lis­ten­ing with bound­less joy to the sound of each blos­som bloom­ing flower.

 
 
This new book before me is also called “Chi­nese Char­ac­ter Course,” so my ini­tial sus­pi­cion was that it might be more like a les­son plan or class­room tran­script. But after read­ing it in one sit­ting, I real­ized it’s more like 99 essays about Chi­nese char­ac­ters. In recent years, books that explore Chi­nese char­ac­ters with a gen­er­al audi­ence in the form of essays have become increas­ing­ly com­mon. I’m famil­iar with Tang Nuo’s “The Sto­ry of Char­ac­ters,” which is cit­ed sev­er­al times in this book, and Swedish sinol­o­gist Lin Xil­i’s “The King­dom of Chi­nese Char­ac­ters.” Inter­est­ing­ly, this book, pri­mar­i­ly aimed at explain­ing Chi­nese char­ac­ter cul­ture to adult read­ers abroad, has been repack­aged and released in Chi­na as “The King­dom of Chi­nese Char­ac­ters for Chil­dren.” So, com­pared to these books, what kind of book is “Char­ac­ters Like Stars”? I think it’s accu­rate to say that it’s a col­lec­tion of Chi­nese char­ac­ter essays writ­ten specif­i­cal­ly for chil­dren.

 
 
While the author of this book is not an expert schol­ar in Chi­nese char­ac­ter stud­ies, her long-stand­ing expe­ri­ence as a Chi­nese lan­guage teacher brings her a unique advan­tage. She is deeply famil­iar with the char­ac­ters chil­dren encounter dai­ly, whether from text­books, the ancient poems and prose they fre­quent­ly recite, or the lit­er­a­ture they read. The author effort­less­ly draws upon these raw mate­ri­als, cre­at­ing a stage (or, if you pre­fer, a “class­room”) where the char­ac­ters they are sup­posed to present take cen­ter stage, per­form­ing with ease and nat­u­ral­ness. I believe chil­dren will feel no sense of dis­tance as they watch these per­for­mances. They may be deeply impressed by the pro­tag­o­nists, but more like­ly, they will find that the raw mate­ri­als used for the stage design have sud­den­ly come alive, no longer seem­ing so daunt­ing. Fur­ther­more, they may dis­cov­er that learn­ing Chi­nese has a tru­ly inter­est­ing side beyond sim­ply prepar­ing for exams.

 
 
Because I often trans­late chil­dren’s books for them, peo­ple often ask me how to write (or trans­late) texts that chil­dren will find inter­est­ing. This is a very puz­zling ques­tion. I don’t know of any writ­ing tricks to achieve this, but in my expe­ri­ence, you must first be an inter­est­ing per­son, espe­cial­ly one with a cer­tain child­like charm. To put it more mys­te­ri­ous­ly, this child­like charm may large­ly come from con­nect­ing with your own child­hood.

 
 
In my opin­ion, Teacher Qun­fang pos­sess­es a deep con­nec­tion to child­hood. Read­ing her essays on Chi­nese char­ac­ters for chil­dren often brings back mem­o­ries of her own child­hood. When she dis­cuss­es the char­ac­ter “古,” the image of her moth­er knit­ting and telling her sto­ries to sleep resur­faces. Those dream­like sto­ries are deeply woven into her child­hood mem­o­ries, a tru­ly sweet mem­o­ry. When she dis­cuss­es the char­ac­ter “看,” her moth­er’s pres­ence reap­pears, her con­cerned gaze super­im­posed on the beau­ti­ful mem­o­ries of her child­hood in the moun­tain vil­lage…

 
 
Per­haps because we were born in the same gen­er­a­tion, I par­tic­u­lar­ly enjoyed the many food descrip­tions that Teacher Qun­fang includ­ed with her expla­na­tions of Chi­nese char­ac­ters. Per­haps they were part of our shared child­hood mem­o­ries. For exam­ple, when dis­cussing the char­ac­ter “niang,” (mean­ing “to brew”), she poet­i­cal­ly described the entire rice wine-mak­ing process. The most mov­ing part was the tast­ing sequence: “When the chil­dren could­n’t wait any longer, their moth­er would scoop a large bowl of fer­ment­ed rice wine from the jar, add a beat­en egg, a few red dates, and sim­mer it in the pot. Some­times, she’d also add a few slices of brown dried lon­gan. The sweet aro­ma of the wine would waft all the way over the court­yard wall. The chil­dren’s cheeks would flush from the fer­ment­ed rice wine, and their moth­ers would lov­ing­ly take their hands and let them go to bed. They slept sound­ly and sweet­ly.” I believe that read­ing such words will help chil­dren under­stand that words can have fra­grance and col­or.

 
 
In dai­ly life, words are sim­ply a medi­um for use. How­ev­er, with fre­quent and pro­longed use, peo­ple may for­get the cul­tur­al con­no­ta­tions they orig­i­nal­ly car­ried. Con­verse­ly, com­plete­ly strip­ping words of their cul­tur­al con­no­ta­tions and rely­ing sole­ly on rote mem­o­riza­tion can be tedious and bor­ing, espe­cial­ly for chil­dren. Those of us who are pro­fi­cient in Chi­nese char­ac­ters have for­got­ten this pain, but we may face sim­i­lar chal­lenges when learn­ing a for­eign lan­guage. For exam­ple, I once encoun­tered the Eng­lish word “lacon­ic.” The dic­tio­nary def­i­n­i­tion is “con­cise and con­cise.” It seems sim­ple, but I could­n’t remem­ber it. God knows why for­eign­ers had to com­bine these let­ters to cre­ate this mean­ing! Lat­er, I stum­bled upon its ety­mol­o­gy and dis­cov­ered that it comes from the Greek region of Laco­nia. The Spar­tans, rep­re­sent­ing that region, were known for their tac­i­turn tem­pera­ment and courage. There­fore, the orig­i­nal mean­ing of “lacon­ic” sim­ply means “like a Lacon­ian.” Over time, it grad­u­al­ly evolved into its cur­rent dic­tio­nary def­i­n­i­tion. And when I learned this sto­ry, it became very easy to remem­ber this word.

 
 
From the per­spec­tive of young read­ers, “Words Like Stars” can indeed serve as an inter­est­ing “Chi­nese char­ac­ter les­son,” help­ing them to joy­ful­ly learn some Chi­nese char­ac­ters. But I think even more valu­able is that it may help them fall in love with the cul­ture that has long been embed­ded in these char­ac­ters, and in turn, devel­op a curios­i­ty about human lan­guage and writ­ing as a whole, and a will­ing­ness to dili­gent­ly explore them.

 
 
As the author demon­strates many times in the book, the begin­ning of explo­ration is actu­al­ly very sim­ple: when you come across a word or phrase that you find inter­est­ing, you can’t help but ask: Where does it come from? Bold­ly explore fur­ther and you will find a new world as bril­liant as the stars.

Ajia …
Writ­ten in Bei­jing on March 6, 2017