Seeking myself
RI Kor
I vividly recall at the beginning of the autumn semester of 1967 . When I entered university , my Chinese composition teacher, Koshimizu Yu, had visited China during the summer vacation and showed me slides he had secretly taken from a hotel window of endless marches during the Cultural Revolution, with entire streets filled with people and large red flags fluttering in the wind. I remember vividly the indescribable shock and deep anxiety I felt at the historical facts unfolding in my own time. I wondered, "What am I learning here and now, and how should I learn it?"
Not for ideological reasons, but for the sake of Chinese composition, the teacher assigned us to memorize several pages of Mao Zedong's Quotations every week, and for a year the teacher would read a part of it every week, and we would listen and write it down. The teacher would read the original text only twice, and we would write it down verbatim, and instead of using pinyin, we would take the trouble to write it down in Zhuyin Fuo, and the teacher would check it, grade it, and return it to us within the time limit. It was an extremely intensive class, with even the smallest mistakes in Zhuyin Fuo being checked. Thanks to this, we were forced to memorize the main parts of Mao Zedong's Quotations, and some of them are still in our memory today. We also became proficient in writing Zhuyin Fuo, which was extremely useful for reading and searching for books from the Republic of China when the supply of books from the People's Republic of China was limited.
Professor Chen Donghai, who was a great supporter of the Iwanami Chinese Dictionary, taught us conversation every Saturday during the first class. We always listened attentively to the scenery of Beijing in the good old days when the professor spent his time. "Everyone, how do you think people listened to Peking Opera?" In response to this question, the professor answered with great enjoyment, "I listened while sitting in a chair facing sideways to the stage. Peking Opera is not something you watch, it's something you listen to."
During the university conflict, there was an incident that we shared with each other in a spirit of respect. It was about Professor Hasegawa Hiroshi, who had a great love for Chinese composition. The professor would convert the results of students' daily composition quizzes into baseball batting averages, and would say things like, "Someone's batting average has recently dropped." Professor Hasegawa's supreme attachment to composition was fully demonstrated during the university conflict, and the students shared this with each other in a spirit of respect for their professor, regardless of their differences in ideology. "Apparently, Professor Hasegawa would translate the students' words into Chinese on stage during student rallies. He said it was quite difficult to instantly translate that kind of language."
When I was newly admitted to the university, Professor Hasegawa wrote an introduction to Professor Shinobu Ono, a professor of Chinese literature, on his own business card. When the professor stamped his seal of approval under my name, he stood up, took out a small seal from the desk behind him, and said, "This seal was carved by the same person who carved Mao Zedong's seal."
I submitted a thesis to Professor Kawasaki Tsuneyuki for my graduation from the university's major course, and in that thesis I attempted to consider the creation of Kukai's "Sankyo Shiiki." I created an index of all the kanji characters that appear in the text, and from there, I measured the frequency distribution of the main particles. I noticed that the occurrence rate of particles in the middle volume on Laozi and Zhuangzi thought of "Sankyo Shiiki" is significantly different from that of the first and second volumes, and I inferred that the middle volume may have been created under different circumstances than the first and second volumes.
After I submitted my thesis, Professor Ono called me to his lab, where he kindly explained to me, "Your method is similar to Carlgren's. But you mustn't forget that it is ultimately a probabilistic inference method." He then lent me his book, saying, "I have a translation of Carlgren's 'Zuo Zhuan Thoughts on Authenticity and Lie' that I once translated, so please read it." I was surprised that the method I used was similar in part to the analytical method used by Carlgren, who was a leading authority on Chinese studies in Europe, and at that moment I was once again reminded of the breadth and depth of Professor Ono's knowledge. I later purchased this book, which he translated, at Yamamoto Bookstore in Kanda. It was now in 1982. "Zuo Zhuan Thoughts on Authenticity and Lie, with Reference to Authenticity in Classical Chinese Texts," by Carlgren, Sinology Translation Series VI, published July 15, 1945, published by Bunkyudo, Tokyo . I can feel the teacher's kindness and gratitude for my studies.
I first felt the universality of Oriental studies when I was in Professor Kawasaki Tsuneyuki's laboratory and he spoke about "Nitto Guho Junrei Koki" (Record of a Pilgrimage to China in Search of the Law ), written by Ennin in the Heian period. Professor Reischauer told me that the impetus for translating the book came from his teacher Paul Demiéville, who had taught him the unparalleled value of "Kyo-ki" during his studies in France, and that Professor Katsuno Takanobu and others from the Historiographical Institute in Tokyo had personally assisted him in deciphering the original Chinese text and researching it. Academics knew no borders.
I also had the opportunity to hear Professor Ono Katsutoshi speak directly about his large work, "A Study of the Travels of a Pilgrimage to China in Search of the Law," at the Nara National Museum. I also learned that the results of Professor Ono Katsutoshi's research were published in 1992 by Huashan Literature Publishing House in the People's Republic of China, under the editorship of Bai Huawen, in this book. I was able to get a clear sense of the universality of Oriental studies and its global reach.
The time when we were looking for Chinese books in Kanda was the height of the Cultural Revolution. Chinese books were scarce even in specialized bookstores, and only a few reprints of the Republic of China editions were able to quench our thirst. Uchiyama Bookstore still had sliding glass doors, and when we entered the quiet store, Mr. and Mrs. Uchiyama personally served tea to me, who knew nothing about academics. Their kindness will never fade, but it was in a very limited world, and only a limited number of people could enjoy it.
I have a deep affection for the tradition of Oriental Studies, which focuses on language and history. I believe that Oriental Studies is one of the most outstanding contributions that Japan can make to the world today. I believe that future developments on the web will continue to exist firmly as one of the great possibilities.
Tokyo March 10, 2007
Sekinan Research Field of Language
No comments:
Post a Comment