Wednesday 16 December 2020

點解我寫粵文

呢一兩年都有朋友問,最近做咩寫多咗粵文,或者係關於廣東話嘅嘢嘅?

最簡單嘅答案,係因為粵語入文可以幫我哋自強。無論我哋嘅普通話或者英文學得幾咁精通, 我哋用白話文、英文寫嘢嘅時候, 總有一種患得患失,驚母語使用者覺得我哋唔夠符合文法嘅感覺。

例如呢十幾年白話文又興返一種文言文常見嘅手法:將啲形容詞當動詞用。例如《七里香》:「那飽滿的稻穗/幸福了這個季節」。我依家會諗,如果呢句唔係出自臺灣(或者大陸人)手,而係香港人寫,肯定有多啲人話寫得唔好,唔符合文法啦。

又例如英國有間火車飛公司trainline,佢幾年前喺倫敦地鐵賣廣告嘅標語「I am train」,其實都係唔合文法。如果出自一間香港公司,喺香港地鐵登,應該都有唔少人會笑佢。但呢句嘢登喺英國,英國人講嘅點會唔係英文呢?

有時,同樣係唔合文法嘅嘢,母語人嗰啲係「口誤」、「破格」,外人嘅就係學藝未精。

當然,為咗商貿文化交流起見,香港人應該至少學好兩文三語。呢個絕對應該做、值得做、快啲做。但係我亦都覺得,去到最尾,俾香港人有以自立,無拘無束咁表達自己嘅,就只係得(港式)粵語。寫喺紙上面、打喺螢幕上面,就係粵文,同埋佢未係咁完善嘅拼音(亦即係所謂Chinglish)。

對《粵切字改革方案》嘅一啲諗法

今日喺旺角見到呢張海報。我覺得好有創意,亦都相當完善,真係好佩服作者。但正所謂「無所因而特創者難為功,有所本而求精者易為力」,我亦都有啲感想,希望可以大家分享吓:

「粵切字改革方案」,2020年12月16日攝於旺角

(1)個表入面有兩種注音嘅方法。第一種,就係用大家都好熟悉嘅拉丁字母;第二種,就係用唔同嘅字或者係邊旁去表示一啲聲母同韻母,再好似韓文咁將佢哋嵌一個方塊入面。

其實呢,如果係為咗有一個大家都接受嘅標準去表達、交流啲發音,用拉丁字母已經好足夠,亦都方便已經識得一種歐洲語言或者漢語拼音嘅人去學。

當然,如果係想順便創製一個系統去寫一啲廣東話入面而家「有音冇字」嘅字,就好似韓國嘅《訓民正音》咁,咁又唔同講法。至少,咁樣創造出來嘅方塊字,係的確比較容易融入粵文嘅。但如果係咁嘅話,或者亦都應該搵一個方法,將個聲調都放埋入個方塊裏面。

(2)其實我覺得,粵語拼音應該盡量係基於香港民間咁多年來已經形成咗嘅習慣。咁樣先至容易學,容易學先至多人學得識,先至可以普及。

(3)依家唔精確嘅嘢當然要改善:例如貝澳個「貝」同天水圍個「水」明明唔同韻,但而家好多時都係用「ui」去寫,呢啲就應該要分返開。

(4)但係,點解要用/j/去標示「央」嘅聲母?我知,粵拼(Jyutping)、國際音標( IPA )同埋德文都係用/j/。但如果我哋睇返個現實嘅情況,除咗乙明邨(Jat Min Chuen )之類嘅個別例子,香港人其實係習慣用/y/嘅:例如元朗嘅元,大家都會諗到「yuen」而唔係「jyun」。

我覺得,如果已經習慣用嘅用法冇問題,就應該繼續用。所以,用/y/會好啲。

(5)如果用咗/y/做聲母,咁為咗避免混淆,或者亦都應該用個表而家冇用嘅/ue/去表示漢語拼音同德文裏面嘅「ü」,而唔係用/yu/。

咁樣仲有兩個好處:一嚟,係香港人平時都係咁用——例如「雪」,通常都會用「suet」而唔會係「syut」;二嚟,亦都有先例係咁做:例如德文打唔到ü嘅時候,就會用「ue」。

(6)因為同樣嘅道理,「z」、「c」可以用香港比較常用嘅「j」、「ch」(或者「ts」)代替。

(7)其實寫粵文真係好難,一唔小心就會夾雜咗啲白話文入去。就好似隻一直都住喺陸地上面嘅鴨,要逼自己學返識游水咁。

臉書連結

Sunday 13 December 2020

協音並非粵語專利

眾所周知,粵語歌詞要求協音(粵語所謂「啱音」),國語卻不用。

之所以如此,我見過至少兩個解釋:

(1)比起有六調的粵語,只有四聲的國語很難配合旋律,於是便不追求協音。
(2)粵語六調裏面,只有兩個(陰上、陽上,即「九」、「五」的音)有滑音,其他的都是同一音高貫徹始終。國語的四聲,卻有三個有滑音(只有第一聲陰平不是),所以協音無從談起。

那個才對呢?單單比較粵語和國語,是很難有結果的。

於是我想,不知道越南語的歌詞又是否追求協音呢?一方面,越南語有六調八聲,也分陰陽平上去入,可以和粵語聲調一一對應;另一方面,越南語的六調裏面,只有兩個沒有滑音:通常翻譯為「平聲」和「玄聲」、分別對應粵語的陰平、陽平的dấu ngang和dấu huyền。這樣,填詞時應該比較難和旋律協調。

用五度標記法表達的粵語聲調。至於國語越南語,可分別參見以上維基百科連結。

正所謂實踐是檢驗真理的唯一標準,我找了一首有粵、國、越三語歌詞的歌:陳奕迅的《明年今日》、《十年》,和越南歌手阮飛雄主唱的《Ngày Này Năm Sau》,從中選出二十字作比較。同樣的旋律,歌詞分別是:

粵:「明年今日 未見你一年 誰捨得改變 離開你六十年」
國:「十年之後 我們是朋友 還可以問候 只是那種溫柔」
越:「Ngày này năm sau, hẹn mà không thấy người,
Ôi đã không mong đợi,mình cũng đã khác rất nhiều」

(有文化輸入,也有文化輸出。很多廣東歌、國語歌,都有填上越南語詞,經過重新編曲,由當地歌手演繹的版本。情況有如香港八十年代為日本歌填上粵語詞:《月半小夜曲》、《千千闕歌》便是。)

為了方便比較,我把所有的音高都轉成頻率,用赫茲(Hz)表示。旋律容易處理:《明年今日》用A♭大調,上述「明」字是A♭3即207.65Hz,餘可類推。

但說話時的聲調卻是相對的:只要同一句子內每個字之間的相對音高正確,絕對音高並不重要。周星馳《食神》中,用不同語調說「乜咁啱嘅」,便是絕對音高有變,但相對音高正確的例子。填詞也是同理。側田《好人》裏面的三個「沒結果」可作參考:音高一句比一句高,但只要句子內的相對音高不變,便不會不協音。

粵語六調裡面,有四個可以是同一音高貫徹始終的。從高到低,是陰平、陰去、陽去、陽平,也就是「三」、「四」、「二」、「零」的音調;其中「三」比「四」大約高4個半音,「四」比「二」大約高3個半音,「二」比「零」又大約高2個半音。用唱名表示,大約是「la fa re do」吧。另外陰上(「九」)滑音完結時的音高大約在「三」、「四」正中間,用剛才的唱名來說則是「so」。

五度標記法裏面,「三」、「四」、「二」、「零」、「九」的音調分別是「55」、「33」、「22」、「11」、「14」。換言之,1-5的調值可以分別轉換成「do re fa so la」。國語、越南語的音調也用五度標記法標註,也可以這樣套用:例如國語第四聲便是「51」、越南語dấu sắc(「銳聲」)是「35」等等。

把這些相對音高翻譯成以頻率表示的絕對音高,有兩種方法:

a) 把第一個字的讀音對上旋律中相對的音高。粵語中「明」是陽平、「11」、「do」,便把「1」訂為207.65Hz,其餘十九字都以此作標準。
b) 在每一句的開端,都重新和旋律作對照。例如第二句首字「未」是「陽去」,「22」、「re」,旋律中則為C4/261.63Hz,便把「未見你一年」全句都作相應調節。餘可類推。

(a) 把相對音高翻譯成以頻率表示的絕對音高,只以第一個字為準

(b) 把相對音高翻譯成以頻率表示的絕對音高,每句句首重設

把音高變化畫成圖。驟眼看來,好像比較接近國語,沒有追求協音的樣子。可是我雖然會一點國語,卻不懂越南語。為免錯誤理解維基百科中的調值,便特意問了越南來的舊同事,請把那二十字的歌詞朗讀一遍。驟耳聽來,也是覺得沒有協音。

但是他卻說有。

於是我想,一個不會越南語的人單憑肉眼讀圖,用耳朵聽,恐怕流於主觀。於是我想到一個比較客觀的方法:計算讀音與旋律頻率之間差異的標準差(standard deviation)。做法有兩種:

i) 計算每個字的讀音和對應旋律之間的頻率差異
ii) 在旋律和讀音裏面,計算每個字與前一字的頻率差異(所謂取其一階差分,first difference),再比較兩者之間的分別。這種做法可能更能聚焦於相對音高的流轉:旋律上行時,歌詞聲調理應相應上行。

無論是哪種做法,如果旋律和讀音完全一致(例如「明年」永遠同音,「今日」永遠相差7個半音),標準差就是0。但這是不可能的:我們討論的是歌詞,不是朗讀。

每升一個八度,頻率便增加一倍,為了方便比較,便以其對數表達頻率。

讀音與旋律頻率之間差異的標準差

這樣一比較……好傢伙,越南語的歌詞似乎起碼和粵語版一樣協音。只是我不會越南語,對其高低起伏沒有感覺,聽不出來也看不出來,如此而已。國語詞毋須協音的原因,似乎是主要因為音高不多,而不是滑音較多所致。

我的越南朋友是對的。

不過,我只是比較了二十個字,難免有以偏概全的可能。近數十年粵、國、越三語同曲異詞者甚多,相信如果能以統計方法作分析,也會相當有趣。敬以俟之來哲。

[檢疫隔離第14天,在酒店自娛時作。旨在拋磚引玉,請各方好友不吝賜教。]

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臉書連結

參考資料:

Friday 11 December 2020

The tragedy of Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus

I used to think Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, WHO's head, had a pro-China bias. Now I think he has just been trying too hard to keep everyone happy in a futile quest to coax some of the most difficult leaders of our time into cooperating. 

To that end, he had said both Trump and Xi had "done a great job". Today, it has also been revealed that WHO conspired with the Italian government to suppress a damning report on the country. 

His position is not an enviable one. He

  1. has with only moral persuasion and no coercive power,
  2. leads an organisation that relies a lot on Western funding
  3. owes his own position with a lot of Chinese support through a one-state-one-vote procedure, and 
  4. was from and nominated by the TPLF, the former ruling party of Ethiopia which less than two weeks ago has just suffered a major setback in the ongoing civil war. He will need somewhere to go after WHO.

Could he have been more direct in 'handling' China,  Italy, the US, etc? Probably, but it might not have been intrinsically deplorable to take a position that it's better to coax countries and keep information flowing at least to WHO officials, who could then advise other governments how lives could be saved without naming the source. 

Of course, that strategy always carried a risk that he would become a useful fool to others. And, one would argue, he did.

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Sunday 6 December 2020

An ode to Hong Kong's 'pan-Western' cuisine

There's no such thing as 'inauthentic' food: a quick survey of Hong Kong's 'pan-Western' food with examples from my quarantine meals can tell you why. 

Exhibit 1: Beef spare ribs braised with red wine sauce, with a side of steamed rice, to start with a cream and butternut squash soup

Exhibit 1: The UK has 'pan Asian' eateries; Hong Kong has its fair share of 'pan Western' food too.

Take these beef spare ribs as an example. On the surface, the ingredients - celery, a red wine sauce - are unmistakably Western. But the side dish has been thoroughly localised.

Indeed, in most pan-Western eateries, one has exactly three side options: rice, pasta, or potatoes & salad. In that order. And by 'rice', it invariably means a portion of plain steamed jasmine rice. It's never basmati. It's never Nandos-style spicy rice either.

Exhibit 2: On the right is a localised borscht

Exhibit 2: This is a local version of the borscht - 羅宋湯 in Chinese, literally "soup of the Rus". White Russians took it to Shanghai with them after the 1917 communist takeover; the Shanghainese, in turn, took it to Hong Kong with them after the 1949 communist takeover. Somewhere on that journey cabbage replaced beetroot.

By convention, a local two-course pan-Western meal set starts with a soup. There are two and only two options: the 'red' soup, i.e. the house borscht, or a cream-based soup (eg Cream of Chicken / Mushroom) which is colloquially known as the 'white' soup of the day. The choice is often summarised as "red or white (soup)?" when waiters take orders. Don't confuse that with the similarly phrased question about wine.

Exhibit 3: Penne with beef brisket and shiitake mushroom

Exhibit 3: Yes, you're looking at some penne with beef brisket braised in rehydrated shiitake mushrooms. I think it's delicious. But, of course, this is not exactly Italian. I suspect my Italian friends might decry it as “inauthentic”.

In a similar way, Hongkongers in the UK often look down on British pan-Asian food: a kitsch mimicry of Chinese food that puts sweet and sour sauce on everything, the stereotype goes. Better stick with "authentic" Chinese restaurants and English pubs, we think (myself included).

The fashionable quest for “authenticity” could sometimes disparage hybrid cuisines as “fakes”. But they’re not. They’re fruits of cultural exchange over many years too. They may not be your taste - Wagamama has never been mine - but they’re no less “authentic”.

And we should know better.

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Saturday 5 December 2020

Arriving in Hong Kong during Covid

If I must come up with an analogy for Hong Kong's screening system, I would say it's like a linear video game with quite a few missions that have to be cleared one by one. 

  1. The tutorial level, of course, is having before boarding a 14-day quarantine package booking at a local hotel and – if you are arriving from a high-risk place such as the UK – a negative test result. Indeed, the thing I had been worrying most was not getting one at Heathrow. That was the only thing that could have derailed everything else.

  2. We were told on the plane that we have to fill in a health declaration form. Supposedly it could be done either on paper or online, but paper forms were nowhere found – not on the plane, nor could I see any upon arrival. They must exist somewhere, but I guess they want everyone to fill in the form and generate a QR code on their smartphone if they can. And that’s what I did.

  3. The next mission is a rather simple one. Passengers with a smartphone have to download an app called, rather plainly, StayHomeSafe. You could tell it was the designed back in the early days when everyone could quarantine at home. You have to show the form's QR code and the app to get past the first checkpoint. 

    First checkpoint (30.11.2020, 17:46)

  4. Then there's a security check for all arrivals. That’s something new.

  5. At another checkpoint, an official would verify the phone numbers one supplied on their declaration by calling it. As soon as your phone rings, one would be given a pink raffle-ticket-sized piece of paper, with the words “Tel OK” on it.

    "Tel OK"
  6. One then gets a welcome pack: two reusable CuMasks, and a 47-page bilingual 'Points to Note' for inbound travellers in a cozily unpretentious brown "On Government Service" envelope. Oh yes, an electronic tag on my arm too.

    Contents of my welcome pack

    A StayHomeSafe electronic tag

  7. Then one came to a sign that said: “obtain quarantine order”. In my case, I had waited almost an hour and a half before I could be seen by an authorised officer under sub. leg. 599E of the Laws of Hong Kong. I showed him the QR code to my form and my hotel booking. In exchange, I got two items.

    The quarantine order station has a typically Hong Kong set-up: unpretentious, pragmatic, does the job. Almost nostalgically symbolic. (30.11.2020, 18:50) 

    The first is a compulsory quarantine order. It is an A4-sized piece of paper which legally instructed me – under pain of a fine of HK$25,000 and a prison term of 6 months maximum – to take a PCR test, wait for its result at a designated place, and then go to and stay in the quarantine hotel I've booked.

  8. The second is a test kit. Yes, you've guessed it – the next mission is to take another Covid test. Following what illustrative videos showed, I went into a testing booth, made a “kruuuaaa” sound to bring up saliva from my throat, disposed them into a plastic test tube with reactants in it, and put the whole thing into a sealable bag marked as “BIOHAZARD”. 
    "BIOHAZARD": my saliva sample (30.11.2020, 19:32)

  9. Since my test result would only be available the next morning, I was given a room number in the government "holding centre" in which I would have to spend the night in. 

  10. At the end comes the familiar bits: immigration, baggage reclaim, and customs. The airport was eerily empty.

    An eerily empty airport (30.11.2020, 20:10)

  11. After 4.5 hours in the airport, a coach took us to the "holding centre", which used to be a three-star hotel in Tsing Yi with a great view over the container ports.

    The Department of Health also provided dinner and breakfast. Both took me down the memory lane and reminded me of school meals of old. 

    At 11 am the landline phone in my room rang. “You may go now“, the other end said. I quickly packed up my stuff, checked out, and – this might be the biggest "loophole" in the whole system – went to the quarantine hotel by my own means. And there I have been staying.

    A room in the Holding Centre. There wasn't any desk so I had to have my school-meal-style dinner on top of my suitcase. (30.11.2020, 21:48)
All in all, it's quite a draining and thorough process. But, I guess, It does also keep people of Hong Kong and their normal lives safer.