A Sermon of Sorts
I know I haven't posted in about a month, and this is merely a finished copy of an old draft. Hopefully before I leave here, though, I can post some final thoughts on life in Japan and some comments on my dad and sister's recent visit. Until then... good luck.
I'm amazed at the number and variety of things human language can express: Almost anything is possible. Almost anything. And I dare not forget that strange amalgam of longing, irony, and breath-taking joy when I think of the few notable exceptions to this rule--especially the heavenly city, so beautiful amd so foreign to this realm that John could find no better way to describe it than a listing of nearly every precious and beautiful substance his experience knew.
And then specific languages--German, English, Japanese, Arabic--throw up unique barriers of their own, limitations that come from the culture of the language and not from anything inherent about language itself. For instance, let's say here in Japan a young businessman wishes to tell an older employee something like, "I'm sorry, but that idea won't work. You simply don't know what you're talking about." The young man can probably make a hint or two in that direction (and he'd better tread lightly indeed), but unless I'm greatly mistaken, he can never come out and say anything even remotely close to the sentence I've typed. It would just be unacceptably rude even to imply.
Another example, one of the first phrases I had to learn when I came here was "Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu." I've heard this nearly everyday for the past year and a half, and I've said it a hundred times myself. But I still don't know what it "means." I understand some of the situations in which it's appropriate to use, but I've never gotten a precise translation of the meaning, because it has none in English. The closest anyone has ever gotten to translating it is along the lines of, "If it's not too inconvenient, please take care of me while we work together." Well, that says it all, I think. Not only is it not strictly translatable into English, but even the best approximation you can get just doesn't really gel with American culture. "Please take care of me if it's not too much trouble"--what an affront to our entrenched sense of individualism and independence! And that's no isolated case. Because of the cultures in which the English and Japanese languages are spoken--in which they exist--we sometimes find a reciprocal inexpressibility: Each language just cannot say some of the things that are present, even commonplace, in the other.
Anyway, many of you may have given up reading by now, but even if you don't care to sort through my verbiage, please don't miss the point of what I'm saying: Culture sways, sometimes rules, language. Culture can trump our very means of expression. And so it may even trump expression itself. This is, I believe, what George Orwell envisioned when he wrote about "newspeak" in 1984. He feared a society that would completely eliminate words like "love"--and thus, in theory, the actual concept itself. What seems to me to happen more often is that we keep the word around, but we and our beloved pop culture ridicule and mock it to the extent that merely to mention it in a tone not dripping with sarcasm is to invite snickering all around.
I remember seeing this happen about five years ago with the word "wrong." I was among 100 college students gathered in an hot office building for training in the arcane mysteries of selling sharp knives and other pricey utensils. After a mid-range manager gave a world-class demonstration of the effectiveness of our blades--especially on coins and tennis shoes--the time arrived for questions. A bright young man took it upon himself to ask about the permissibility of doing something that was obviously unethical (for the life of me, I can't remember what it was). After our head honcho, Mike, explained why that was unacceptable from a legal-punitive perspective, he paused and added, "Besides, that's just wrong." The room erupted in laughter. It was the most wildly successful comment I'd ever heard out of Mike's mouth. Ha! Wrong! Here we are trying to make some money, and he goes mentioning something as silly and beside-the-point as right and wrong... Man, that Mike! What a kidder! Unfortunately, that kind of reception is rather common for the likes of "right" and "wrong" these days, I'm afraid. What of "wisdom"? Is that still something to spend one's life pursuing, or a pipe dream we'd best not take too seriously? And whatever happened to "righteousness," "holiness," and "sanctification"?
I'm amazed at the number and variety of things human language can express: Almost anything is possible. Almost anything. And I dare not forget that strange amalgam of longing, irony, and breath-taking joy when I think of the few notable exceptions to this rule--especially the heavenly city, so beautiful amd so foreign to this realm that John could find no better way to describe it than a listing of nearly every precious and beautiful substance his experience knew.
And then specific languages--German, English, Japanese, Arabic--throw up unique barriers of their own, limitations that come from the culture of the language and not from anything inherent about language itself. For instance, let's say here in Japan a young businessman wishes to tell an older employee something like, "I'm sorry, but that idea won't work. You simply don't know what you're talking about." The young man can probably make a hint or two in that direction (and he'd better tread lightly indeed), but unless I'm greatly mistaken, he can never come out and say anything even remotely close to the sentence I've typed. It would just be unacceptably rude even to imply.
Another example, one of the first phrases I had to learn when I came here was "Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu." I've heard this nearly everyday for the past year and a half, and I've said it a hundred times myself. But I still don't know what it "means." I understand some of the situations in which it's appropriate to use, but I've never gotten a precise translation of the meaning, because it has none in English. The closest anyone has ever gotten to translating it is along the lines of, "If it's not too inconvenient, please take care of me while we work together." Well, that says it all, I think. Not only is it not strictly translatable into English, but even the best approximation you can get just doesn't really gel with American culture. "Please take care of me if it's not too much trouble"--what an affront to our entrenched sense of individualism and independence! And that's no isolated case. Because of the cultures in which the English and Japanese languages are spoken--in which they exist--we sometimes find a reciprocal inexpressibility: Each language just cannot say some of the things that are present, even commonplace, in the other.
Anyway, many of you may have given up reading by now, but even if you don't care to sort through my verbiage, please don't miss the point of what I'm saying: Culture sways, sometimes rules, language. Culture can trump our very means of expression. And so it may even trump expression itself. This is, I believe, what George Orwell envisioned when he wrote about "newspeak" in 1984. He feared a society that would completely eliminate words like "love"--and thus, in theory, the actual concept itself. What seems to me to happen more often is that we keep the word around, but we and our beloved pop culture ridicule and mock it to the extent that merely to mention it in a tone not dripping with sarcasm is to invite snickering all around.
I remember seeing this happen about five years ago with the word "wrong." I was among 100 college students gathered in an hot office building for training in the arcane mysteries of selling sharp knives and other pricey utensils. After a mid-range manager gave a world-class demonstration of the effectiveness of our blades--especially on coins and tennis shoes--the time arrived for questions. A bright young man took it upon himself to ask about the permissibility of doing something that was obviously unethical (for the life of me, I can't remember what it was). After our head honcho, Mike, explained why that was unacceptable from a legal-punitive perspective, he paused and added, "Besides, that's just wrong." The room erupted in laughter. It was the most wildly successful comment I'd ever heard out of Mike's mouth. Ha! Wrong! Here we are trying to make some money, and he goes mentioning something as silly and beside-the-point as right and wrong... Man, that Mike! What a kidder! Unfortunately, that kind of reception is rather common for the likes of "right" and "wrong" these days, I'm afraid. What of "wisdom"? Is that still something to spend one's life pursuing, or a pipe dream we'd best not take too seriously? And whatever happened to "righteousness," "holiness," and "sanctification"?
posted by Peter Rice at 8:16 PM
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