More
"Radical" Aspects of Kanji Characters
Donald C. Wood
As discussed previously, kanji
are far more easily understood if one learns more about their
components. Radicals, or bushu (部首), are probably the most
important of these. The first four categories of radicals are:
hen (偏), tsukuri (旁), kanmuri (冠), and ashi (脚). These were taken
up in a previous article.
The next three types of radicals
usually surround Chinese ideograms either partially or fully.
Tare (垂), are radicals which half enclose a character on the top and
left side. One example is “gandare,” the upper left section of 原
(gen or hara), which means a field or meadow. The form of gandare
actually refers to a cliff. Another example is “madare,” which
appears in 庫 (ko), meaning a storehouse or warehouse. Many houses
have an attached shako (車庫). Shako is an easily understood
compound word made of the character 車 (sha or kuruma), meaning “car”
and 庫. It is not too difficult to see that this means a storage
place for a car.
Nyou (繞) are radicals that
partially enclose a character on the left and bottom. One example
is the lower-left section of the ideogram 返 [hen or kae(su)], meaning
“to return” or “to give back,” and in 近 [kin or chika(i)], meaning
“near.” This radical is called “shinnyou,” and a very similar
version is known as “ennyou.” This appears in 建 [ken or
tate(ru)], meaning “to build” or “to establish,” and also in 延 [en or
nobi(ru)], which means “to postpone” or “to extend.” One
interesting radical of this category is “kinyou.” It appears, for
example, in the ideogram 魅 (mi), which means “to fascinate,” “to
enchant,” or “to bewitch.” The parent kanji of this radical is 鬼
(ki or oni), meaning “ogre,” “fiend,” or “demon.” Thus, it
relates in meaning to 魅, which also appears in the compound word
魅力(miryoku): “charm,” “glamour,” or “appeal,” and in 魅惑 (miwaku):
“fascination,” or “enchantment.” One member of this category
which looks a little different from the others is “ukebako.” It
is found in the ideogram 凶 (kyou), meaning “evil” or “calamity.”
The last category of radicals is
called “kamae” (構). These surround a Chinese character in
different ways than the previous two categories do. Some of them,
such as 門 (mongamae), and 行 (gyougamae), trap elements between
themselves to form other ideograms, such as 開 [kai or hira(ku)], 間
(kan, ken, ma, or aida), and 術 (jutsu). Other kamae cover the top
and right sides of kanji. Probably the most common of these is
“kigamae.” It appears in two characters which share the
pronunciation “ki”: 気, meaning “spirit,” “energy,” or “mind,” and also
汽, meaning “steam,” or “vapor.” Another member of this broad
category, “kakushigamae,” forms the top, left side, and bottom boundary
of a character. It appears in the ideogram 区, (ku), which means a
section of a larger metropolis, and in the character 匹 (hitsu), which
is used for counting animals. “Dougamae,” or “keigamae,” covers a
character on the top and both sides. It relates in sound to the
ideogram 同 [dou or ona(ji)], meaning “same.” Finally,
“kunigamae” completely encloses a character on all sides. 国 (kuni
or koku), usually meaning a country or nation, and 囲 [i or kako(mu)]
both use kunigamae and both relate to the radial in meaning and
function: a country is surrounded by political borders, and the verb
“kakomu” means “to surround.”
The relationship in pronunciation
between 井 (a water well) and 囲 (to surround) is interesting. Both
of them can be pronounced “i” as in “we” or “be.” This can be
found among a great many kanji characters, such as 気 and 汽, mentioned
above. Associating pronunciations with certain sections of
ideograms is a good way to remember how to read them. Another
good way to do this has already been alluded to above as well.
Often the original form of radicals will clue the reader in on how to
decipher a previously unencountered ideogram. For example, as
indicated above the character 鬼 (a supernatural monster) is the parent
character of the radical in 魅: to bewitch or enchant. If a person
comes across a similar ideogram they can reasonably guess that it
relates to the supernatural as well. Along the same lines: after
reading all of this information about individual kanji characters and
radicals, you may have trouble seeing the forest for the trees.
Well, not to worry, because the result of putting two trees (木 and 木)
together is 林 (hayashi), meaning a grove or forest. Three trees
together, predictably, results in 森 (mori), which refers to a thicker
or denser forest. Going even further, one can combine 森 with 林 to
get the word 森林 (shinrin), which also means a dense, thick natural
forest. (After all, there are cases in which the whole does equal
the sum of its parts!)
If a slight digression may be
permitted, the meanings of words in a language often offer fascinating
insights into the cultural environment in which they originated.
Kanji characters are no exception. Since most of them were
introduced from China over ten centuries ago, one cannot easily say
that they represent native elements of Japanese culture without
meticulous investigation, but there are plenty of interesting Japanese
cultural values and historical phenomena embedded in the
pictographs. For example, the position of a young wife, or “yome”
in a farming household was always very low. She was basically an
outsider – having married in from another house that was sometimes very
far away. She could not begin to rise up in her new household
until she provided an heir (a son), and even if she did so, she always
had to depend on the benevolence of her mother-in-law. A similar
situation existed in most parts of China. The Chinese character
for woman is 女, and the one for household is 家. Correspondingly,
the character for “yome” is a woman attached to a household: 嫁.
She seems to be always on the outside - never really on the inside
–like an attachment of sorts, until she can transcend the position of
young wife and ascend to that of household head’s wife once her
parents-in-law are gone.
Kittredge Cherry, in her 1987
book entitled Womansword, takes up the issue of another Chinese
character in the Japanese language and its sexually discriminative
nature. The character is 姦, pronounced “kan,” and is usually
written 姦しい (kashimashii), meaning “noisy.” It comes from a
Chinese proverb stating that if three women get together, the result is
noise (女+女+女=姦). The type of noise referred to here is the
endless chatter of pointless gossip that women will, presumably, engage
in if three are assembled. The word cannot, in normal
circumstances, be applied to men. Furthermore, there is no such
ideogram, word, or phrase for men at all, either. The existence
of this character brings up several questions, such as whether women
are the only people who gossip, whether women’s gossip is actually less
meaningful and more “noisy” then men’s gossip, and who decided that
women’s talk is necessarily pointless or negative in the first
place. It would seem, actually, that when young mothers get
together, for example, they will share very important information about
nutrition for their families, health care for their children, and other
matters which men do not usually concern themselves with. It
could be that since women’s voices are higher in tone, men may have
decided long ago that any conversation between three or more of them is
noisy and bothersome, but I may be digressing too much.
At any rate, studying Chinese
characters is not necessarily as difficult as it seems. If one
focuses on the distinct elements of the ideograms called “radicals” or
“bushu” (部首), they will probably progress faster than they would have
otherwise and probably enjoy it all the more. In addition,
Japanese people often describe kanji characters to each other by either
writing with their finger on their palm or simply by explaining
verbally which radical to add to which other character to get the
target ideogram. Non-native speakers can surprise people by
participating in this activity as well!