Acta Linguistica Asiatica Volume 5, Issue 2, 2015 ACTA LINGUISTICA ASIATICA Volume 5, Issue 2, 2015 Editors. !ndrej Bekeš, Nina Golob, Mateja Petrovčič Editorial Board: Bi Yanli (China), Cao Hongquan (China), Luka Culiberg (Slovenia), Tamara Ditrich (Slovenia), Kristina Hmeljak Sangawa (Slovenia), Ichimiya Yufuko (Japan), Terry Andrew Joyce (Japan), Jens Karlsson (Sweden), Lee Yong (Korea), Lin Ming-Chang (Taiwan), Arun Prakash Mishra (India), Nagisa Moritoki Škof (Slovenia), Nishina Kikuko (Japan), Sawada Hiroko (Japan), Chikako Shigemori Bučar (Slovenia), Irena Srdanović (Japan). © University of Ljubljana, Faculty of !rts, 2015 All rights reserved. Published by: Znanstvena založba Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani (Ljubljana University Press, Faculty of Arts) Issued by: Department of Asian Studies For the publisher: Dr/ Branka Kalenić Ramšak, Dean of the Faculty of Arts The journal is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Journal's web page: http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ The journal is published in the scope of Open Journal Systems ISSN: 2232-3317 Abstracting and Indexing Services: COBISS, dLib, Directory of Open Access Journals, MLA International Bibliography, Open J-Gate, Google Scholar and ERIH PLUS. Publication is free of charge. Address: University of Ljubljana, Faculty of Arts Department of Asian Studies !škerčeva 2, SI-1000 Ljubljana, Slovenia E-mail: nina.golob@ff.uni-lj.si TABLE OF CONTENTS Foreword .............................................................................................................. 5–6 RESEARCH ARTICLES "Characters" in Japanese Communication and Language: An Overview Toshiyuki SADANOBU ......................................................................................... 9–28 Role Language and Character Language Satoshi KINSUI, Hiroko YAMAKIDO .................................................................. 29–42 Observations on Intra-Nebular Kyara Among Youth Fumiaki SENUMA.............................................................................................. 43–50 The Japanese Language and Character Particles, as Seen in Dialect: Character Particles and Sentence-Ending Particles Kenji TOMOSADA ............................................................................................. 51–60 Japanese Language and "Characters": From the Perspective of Teaching Japanese as a Foreign Language SHUKURI Yukiko................................................................................................ 61–68 AFTERWORD Role Language and Character Research in a Wider Perspective !ndrej BEKEŠ .................................................................................................... 69–72 FOREWORD This issue consists of a special report on the Japanese concept of "characters." Since the beginning of this millennium, there has been active discussion of "characters," with a steady stream of publications on the topic in not only linguistics and communication theory, but also in the fields of manga studies, modern thought, psychoanalysis, sociology, literary theory, socio-cultural theory, and media studies. But the content of the "characters" being studied is not uniform, and includes a uniquely Japanese concept of "character" that cannot be translated by the English word "character." Sometimes the word is even spelled "Kyara" in recognition of the fact that this is a concept specific to Japan. In this issue, the authors address the Japanese-born "characters" that are directly related to language and communication. Naturally, there are differences in terms of subtle nuance among the authors, but there are no large discrepancies in their use of the everyday word "character," which has been built up in the course of daily life by general Japanese speakers, especially young people. This everyday word "character" signifies an image of humanity that is not incompatible with the traditional view that "barring some extraordinary circumstance, such as the disintegration of personality, people do not change depending on the situation. What changes is style; people change their style in response to the situation." As it is taboo to overtly violate this traditional view of humanity, nobody will openly admit to "changing depending on the situation." However, on anonymous electronic bulletin boards, young people are secretly coming out about the fact that they have "different characters for school and for their part-time jobs." These are the main kind of "characters" discussed here. This issue gathers together articles that introduce knowledge obtained in Japan regarding "characters," and clarify their relationship with the Japanese language, Japanese communication, and education in both these areas. It also contains articles discussing the potential contributions of "characters" to general research in linguistics and communication, beyond the Japanese-speaking community. Toshiyuki Sadanobu presents one method of organizing the various concepts in Japan that fall under the technical term "character," shows how one type (which was, as mentioned above, created mainly by the young generation) pushes the limits of the traditional view of humanity and the speech-act view, which assumes intention, and discusses the relationship between characters and Japanese communication. Kenji Tomosada describes cases found in regional dialects that parallel Sadanobu's observations on "chara-joshi" in common Japanese. Just as the common Japanese speaker expresses his/her identity by means of "chara-joshi," so too the speaker of Japanese dialects embodies his/her identity with the sentential-final particles wa, wai, and bai. "Chara-joshi" and wa, wai, and bai also look alike in that they occur at the end of a sentence, even after the attitudinal particles. Satoshi Kinsui and Hiroko Yamakido supplement some of the deficiencies of the definition of role language in Kinsui (2003), and redefine role language as knowledge of "a manner of speaking that binds together a social or cultural group" possessed by "the majority of constituents in a linguistic community." Fumiaki Senuma investigates communities of young people in modern Japanese society and developments in his research since then. Among the young generation, individuals are sometimes assigned a specific kyara by others in their peer group, regardless of that individual's intentions. Yukiko Shukuri reports on the status of Japanese language teaching materials related to role language and characters, and describes her research project activities on role language and character in Novosibirsk, Russia. We hope that this issue will stimulate discussions on "character theory" in the worldwide context of Japanese language and culture research. Toshiyuki Sadanobu RESEARCH ARTICLES "CHARACTERS" IN JAPANESE COMMUNICATION AND LANGUAGE: AN OVERVIEW Toshiyuki SADANOBU Kobe University, Japan sadanobu@kobe-u.ac.jp Abstract There are various ideas related to characters in modern Japan (dramatis personae, Ito's (2005) Kyara and its self-professed successors' ideas, and situation-based self). This paper will introduce these ideas, address my definition of character (situation-based self) in detail, and discuss its significance for communication and linguistic research. The major characteristics of this definition are: (i) it is based on the traditionally taboo idea that "humans can change in response to the situation," and (ii) it is not something created by a researcher (the author), but was rather formed by speakers of Japanese in the course of daily life. I merely employed this word as it is, as a technical term. Japanese speakers are keenly conscious of the self's situation-sensitiveness, but there is no need to think of Japanese society as unique just because it was the first to come out about this fact to the world. This characteristic of Japanese society can be understood as a difference of degree; that is, there is "a low degree of freedom in style, and a correspondingly large degree of freedom in character." Keywords: character; style; personality; identity; Japanese Povzetek Raziskave navajajo različne teorije o likih v moderni Japonski (npr. dramska oseba, Itojev kyara in ideje njegovih samooklicanih naslednikov, značaji, ki temeljijo na posameznem primeru)/ Tokratna raziskava predstavlja te teorije, podrobno obravnava avtorjevo definicijo lika, ki temelji na posameznem primeru, ter razpravlja o njegovem pomenu v komunikaciji in jezikoslovnih raziskavah. Osnovne značilnosti definicije lika so naslednje: (i) definicija je osnovana na tradicionalno tabu ideji, da se lahko človek spreminja glede na situacijo, ter da (ii) lika ne ustvari raziskovalec (oz. avtor), ampak ga v vsakodnevnem pogovoru oblikujejo japonski govorci/ !vtor tako poudarja, da že obstoječ izraz uporablja tudi kot termin v jezikoslovnih razpravah/ Japonski govorci se polno zavedajo lika, ki je občutljiv na določeno situacijo/ Vendar zaradi tega, ker je svetu predstavila idejo o občutljivosti posameznika na situacijo, japonske družbe ni potrebno dojemati kot edinstvene/ To značilnost japonske družbe lahko opišemo kot raznolikost stopenj občutljivosti- nizka stopnja svobode sloga ustreza visoki stopnji svobode lika. Ključne besede: lik; slog- osebnost- identiteta- japonščina Acta Linguistica Asiatica, 5(2), 2015. ISSN: 2232-3317, http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ DOI: 10.4312/ala.5.2.9-28 1 Introduction Living in Japan today means being surrounded by characters. The streets are overflowing with products featuring popular characters, such as Hello Kitty and Pokémon/ Moreover, nearly every locality has its own yuru-kyara – yurui (meaning weak but heart-warming) character – designed to promote regional vitalization. Unlike real people, who are complex multidimensional beings possessing various facets, such characters are more or less simplified one-dimensional beings. However, people not infrequently treat others, and even themselves, as one-dimensional beings that are like these characters. Reflecting this situation, a variety of new ideas regarding characters have appeared in modern Japan. This paper will introduce these ideas, and discuss what significance one of them (the author's) has for communication and linguistic research. First, we will look at several ideas regarding characters. 2 Several concepts related to characters As mentioned above, in modern Japan, one's daily life is surrounded by characters and, reflecting this fact, a large number of materials are being published about them. Among these are not only books written to entertain (e.g. Miura, 2004, 2013), but also those containing more or less academic ideas over a wide range of disciplines, including manga criticism (e.g. Ito, 2005; Iwashita, 2013), contemporary philosophy (e.g. Azuma, 2003; Uno, 2008; Okamoto, 2010), psychoanalysis (e.g. Saito, 2011), business studies (e.g. Odagiri, 2010), sociology (e.g. Senuma, 2007; 2009; Doi, 2009), literary criticism (e.g. Shinjo, 2009), cultural studies on modern society (e.g. Aihara, 2007, Kuresawa, 2010), media studies (e.g. Ogiue, 2008), and linguistics and communication theory (e.g. Sadanobu 2006; 2009; 2010-2012, 2011). In regards to yuru-kyara, there have been works that take into account regional government and national branding (e.g. Inuyama & Sugimoto, 2012; Aoki, 2014). However, these authors are in fact dealing with different objects. In my view, there are at least three different types of character (or similar phenomena).1 These different characters are as follows. 2.1 Dramatis personae The first character type refers to people who appear in stories (dramatis personae). For example, this is the type of character one is discussing when looking at the problem of what kind of characters to include, and how to arrange them, when writing a story to attract the most readers. The yuru-kyara created for regional 1 I will avoid mentioning the "characters" that are handled in logography, as this is clearly a different matter. vitalization can be called a subtype of this character. The second half of this portmanteau, kyara, is an abbreviation of the loan word kyarakutaa2 , from the English word "character." Only this first type can be translated by the English word "character." 2.2 Ito's (2005) Kyara The second type, written as Kyara, was introduced in manga criticism (Ito, 2005). It is highly specialized and distinct from the first type. Ito's definition of Kyara is given in (1). (1) Most are depicted relatively simply using line art and are given names (or elicit the expectation of having names) to provide them with an impression of presence that is "something like a personality." (Ito, 2005, p. 95) Kyara in Ito (2005) must create the awareness in the reader, necessary to understanding the manga, that "the person shown in panel A is the same person as the one in panel B." That is, they are the foundation for the identity of the beings portrayed in manga. With regards to all characters of the first type (dramatis personae) in the world of manga, Ito (2005) uses the concept of Kyara as a cornerstone, and rigorously distinguishes it from the first type of character, as can been seen in (2) below. (2) On the foundation of the Kyara's sense of presence, a representation of a "body" in possession of a "personality" can be read, leading one to imagine that, behind the text, it has a "life" and "lifestyle." (author's emphasis) (Ito, 2005, p. 96) As mentioned earlier, the Japanese loan word kyarakutaa can be abbreviated as kyara, but this must be strictly distinguished from Kyara in Ito (2005). The Kyara in Ito (2005), of course, cannot be translated by the English word "character." Quite distinct from the first type of character, this original concept of Kyara in Ito (2005) gained attention from advocates in many fields, beyond manga studies. It was employed in a variety of forms, for example in Kuresawa (2010, pp. 27-28): "Ito's framework certainly has enough scope to handle the entirety of modern society." We will look very briefly at some of these. Aihara (2007) discusses various social situations using the keyword Kyara-ization (Kyara-ka); in other words, "living a Kyara-like life in real life" (p. 178). Specifically, Aihara refers to the phenomenon of people feeling a "Kyara-ized version of themselves" to be more accessible and real than their "real selves" as the "Kyara­ization of identity." He calls the phenomenon of people yearning for the "Kyara-ized 2 This word can also be written as "kyarakuta", omitting the final "a." Although I use one spelling consistently, there is no difference in meaning between kyarakuta and kyarakutaa; both are simply spelling variants. forms" illustrated in manga, and pursuing a live-action drama form of them in their "real bodies" the "Kyara-ization of the body." Finally, he deals with the recent phenomenon of the superficialization of communication among young people, i.e. the "Kyara-ization of communication." This keyword, "Kyara-ization," has been taken up in a variety of phenomena, such as the putting of manga into practice ("Kyara-ization of politics"), the tendency of emerging companies to present an exaggeratedly attractive corporate image detached from reality ("Kyara-ization of economics/enterprise"), and the phenomenon of people feeling attraction only to "parts" (Kyara-attributes) of products, but not the "whole" ("Kyara-ization of consumerism"). Doi (2009) argues that the uchi-Kyara (i.e. internal-Kyara, personality traits people are born with) form a compass for every person's life, while they perform soto-Kyara (i.e. external-Kyara) in response to interpersonal relationships; this is not limited to the young, but is common to all modern citizens. Kuresawa (2010) is the most prominent author in terms of incorporating the distinction between the first character type versus Kyara in his discussion. The cover of his book bears the title in English: INTRODUCTION TO KYARAKUTAA CULTURE. Here, the word "KYARAKUTAA" is in a large font, with "KYARA" appearing especially large and in a different color from the remaining "KUTAA" (Figure 1). However, while the observations in Kuresawa (2010) extend to every corner of modern Japanese society, including yanki culture and pachinko, his ideas focus on the historical genealogy and popularity of the first type of character (dramatis personae), and his references to Ito's (2005) Kyara are very limited. Figure 1: Cover of Kuresawa (2010) Although, as hinted in the above summaries, these ideas contain fascinating observations, it is unclear how faithfully Ito's (2005) Kyara are being employed within them. Or, if they have undergone transformation, the extent of that transformation has not been clarified. Ito himself has expressed reservations on this matter.3 Rather than connecting these ideas with the Kyara from Ito (2005), perhaps it would be better to consider their connection to the third type, which will be described below. 2.3 Situation-based self The third type of character, put succinctly, is the situation-based self. As it is something that Japanese speakers (young people in particular) have created during the course of everyday life, it has no formal English translation. However, having noticed the serviceability of this concept during my own communication and linguistic research, I decided to use the word "character" as my own specialized term to refer to this third type (e.g. Sadanobu, 2006; 2009; 2011). As this report will ultimately try to illuminate communication in Japan and the Japanese language, hereafter, I will use "character" (sometimes abbreviated kyara) to refer only to this new concept, as applied to communication and language analysis, and not to dramatis personae nor to Ito's (2005) Kyara. No distinction in meaning will be made between character and kyara. 3 Characters in Japanese communication This section will introduce my definition of character in detail, and discuss what significance it has for communication research. 3.1 More than a style, less than personality I view character as a range of stability (i.e. unchangeability) in people, which is "more than a style, less than personality." First, we will review "style" and "personality." "Style" has low stability, and can be changed overtly and intentionally without hindrance. For example, when asking for help from both the CEO of a client company and their own subordinate, a speaker might, with a bow of their head, politely say "I really appreciate your help with this matter," to the former, while slapping the latter on the shoulder and lightly intoning, "You too—please help with this." Even if observed by the subordinate making such a polite request to the client company's CEO, the speaker would not be particularly embarrassed. Nor would it be a problem for the speaker to be observed making a brusque request to his/her own subordinate by the client company's CEO. Here, in performing the communicative behavior [of 3 See Sadanobu (2012, Feb 5-2015, Dec 6: No. 84-87, No. 86 inter alia) for details. http://dictionary.sanseido-publ.co.jp/wp/author/sadanobu/ making a request about an established matter] the speaker switches style depending on his/her relationship with the listener. This fits the notion that "in order to achieve some established objective, people select an appropriate style in response to the situation and their personal relationships and carry out behaviors to accomplish their goals." For example, many teleological, intentional concepts predicated on pragmatics appear to be valid, such as non-natural meaning, inferential communication (Grice, 1957), informative intention, communicative intention, and ostensive-inferential communication (Sperber & Wilson, 1986). In contrast, "personality" is highly stable and not normally changed intentionally. If it is changed, this will cause a serious, fundamental shift that seems to make the speaker a "different person." For example, Toshio Shimao's novel Kisousha no Yuutsu (1964) contains the following part (3): (3) "It's my fault. Please, don't go. I'll apologize. Don't go, please." (...) When he caught her in his arms, Nasu beat the glass door wildly with both hands, screaming anmaa (the word they used for "mother" on Nasu's home island). Her voice was strangely childish. Nasu tried to cast off Miichi's arms. Her strength was incredible. Miichi now tried earnestly to hold her back. "Anmai, wandaka, teretitabore (Mama, take me away)" (...) "Hage, nu-gakaya. (Oh, what happened?) What happened? What's wrong with me? Where am I? What is this place?" (Toshio Shimao (1964) Kisosha no Yuutsu) During the married couple's argument, the wife first says: "It's my fault. Please don't go. I'll apologize. Please don't go." in standard Japanese. Later she begins talking in her native island's dialect: Anmai, wandaka, teretitabore (Mama, take me away). Then she returns to standard Japanese when saying "What happened? What's wrong with me? Where am I? What is this place?" As indicated by the content of what she is saying, she has no memory of speaking in the island dialect. This is what is meant here by "personality." Then, in the next example (4), is the change of kyara a change of style or a change of personality? (4) Post here if your kyara at work is different from your regular character 1: Kotanuki: 12/06/03 15:37 ID: Main At my part-time job, I'm very gloomy and dowdy, but at school I have a rowdy kyara. How about you? 2: Kotanuki: 12/06/03 15:41 Come to think of it, my kyara is different at home, work, with my boyfriend, and at school.[http://new.bbs.2ch2.net/test/read.cgi/kotanuki/1338705429/i] This is an excerpt from a post on the Internet forum "2 channel," in which the posters express that their kyaras are different for their "part-time job" and "school," and furthermore also at "home," and "with their boyfriends." Since it would be undesirable for the posters' school acquaintances to see their gloomy appearance at their job, or for their coworkers to see their cheery attitude at school, we can see that these kyaras are not something that can be overtly changed (discussed further in 2.3). This indicates that kyara is more stable than, and different from, "style." Moreover, since the posters are aware of their own changes of kyara and do not feel that they interfere greatly with their everyday life, we can infer that these kyaras are less stable than "personality." In other words, kyara is "more than a style, less than personality." Of course, here we are talking about kyara as it is used on Internet forums in everyday language, not the specialized term "character." However, the specialized "character" as used in this paper is not qualitatively different from the everyday word kyara in (4). A specialized definition of "character" is given in (5): (5) "Character" is something which ostensibly must not, or cannot, be changed intentionally. If changes in it are detected, this makes certain information obvious to the observer and the observed, making them both uncomfortable. 3.2 A balancer for external and internal pressure In terms of concepts that largely resemble character as previously described, only the concept of juese in modern Chinese (see Kawasaki (2012) for a comparison with character) comes to mind. However, I believe that characters exist in every society although they run the gamut from clear to indistinct. In that they are the fulcrums (balancers) that result from humans balancing external and internal pressures, perhaps character is no different from "style" or "personality." First we will look at an example that is easily understood. A geoduck can grow so large that its body cannot be covered entirely by its shell (Figure 2). It is quite different from the steamer clam, which will never outgrow its shell no matter how much it grows (Figure 3). However, the two varieties of clam are no different in that they are both balancing the external pressure of "needing to protect themselves" with the internal pressure of "needing to grow." What is important here is that there is not just one way of achieving this balance. There are cautious ways of achieving balance, like the steamer clam which places priority on external pressures and keeps its body wholly inside its shell, and then there is the way adopted by the geoduck, which has given up on protecting its body with its shell. As it does not seem that the geoduck is in danger of extinction, it seems that it has indeed achieved some kind of balance. Again, there is not just one way of achieving a balance between external pressures and internal needs. Figure 2: Geoduck Figure 3: Steamer clam What can be said of clams can also be said of humans. Humans too must balance external pressures and internal needs, and there is not just one way to do so. Here, "external pressure" refers to the imperative to act appropriately in response to various social situations. School has its own situation, as does one's part-time job. In order to respond appropriately to various situations, humans must change in response to a particular situation. On the other hand, here "internal pressure" refers to the desire to act in a way that is faithful to one's own individuality, regardless of the situation. In the context of communication and language research, the idea that "humans change flexibly in response to the situation" is readily accepted without condition. From the functional perspective in particular, the general consensus seems to be that "dynamic" is regarded as "correct," while "static" is seen as "mistaken." However, in the real world flexible behavior is often criticized or mocked as "inconsistent" or "without pride." There are cases where "not changing in response to the situation" is celebrated. Such criticism of "inconsistency" can be found in the novel Shiroi Kyotoh, in which a vendor is portrayed negatively for responding flexibly to a situation by switching from an obsequious attitude to an arrogant one in dealing with a once good customer that has fallen on hard times and is on the verge of bankruptcy. He is told "you used to hover around the entrance to our shop, rubbing your hands together," and later is described as having "completely reversed his attitude" (Toyoko Yamazaki Shiroi Kyotoh (IV), 1969). There are also cases in which one's own pride allows no change, as in the case of Mrs. Tagawa in the novel Aru Onna, who is unable to respond flexibly when a young woman to whom she had initially behaved with condescension, suddenly becomes the center of attention: "At this point, Mrs. Tagawa was unable to change her attitude" (Takeo Arishima Aru Onna, 1911-13). As can be seen in Aesop's "Cowardly Bat" and the Martians in Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles (1950), in other linguistic societies too those who respond too flexibly to a situation are not uncommonly said to be "doomed." The fact that in Japanese expressions such as bukiyo (clumsy), bukotsu (uncouth), kodawari (obsessiveness) and ganko (stubborn) are sometimes positively valued, demonstrates that inflexibility towards the situation is not necessarily considered to be a negative thing. In every society, it is the common wisdom that one tries to maintain a balance between external and internal pressures and respond somewhat flexibly to various situations while also maintaining some self-consistency (selfness). For this reason, just as the fingers each have a first, second, and third joint, the naturally occurring fulcrums (balancers) in humans are "personality," "character," and "style." It is hard to imagine that "character" is only found in Japanese society. Naturally, in other linguistic societies too "character" exists along with "personality" and "style," but it does not manifest itself as clearly as it does in Japanese society. The fact that "character" does not appear as clearly in many societies will be discussed in 3.3. The fact that characters can be seen to manifest along a spectrum ranging from clear to indistinct among different societies, and are especially clear in Japanese society, will be discussed in 3.5. 3.3 Taboos of "polite society" As seen in (4), changes of "character" cannot be done overtly outside of the context of play (see the end of Section 3). We fear that changes in character in response to the situation will be discovered, and that this will lead to embarrassment. Sho Sakurai, a celebrity, admitted (6) that it would be "kind of awkward" if his antics on a variety show were seen by Nobutaka Murao, his costar on a serious news program: (6) (When asked what guest would make him nervous) For me, it would be Mr. Murao. I've only ever met him in newscasting situations, so it'd be kind of awkward for him to see me yelling "Aha!!" on this show. (http://www.pideo.net/video/youku/9315647f82fb246e/) In this example, the speaker is afraid of his change in character (from the "serious" news program character to the "non-serious" variety show character) being detected, causing the other to think less of him – "I didn't know Mr. Sakurai had that side to him. He's always so serious on the news show. I thought he was a serious person. That's surprising." In Japanese society, behaving seriously tends to signify more than that one is using a serious style in that isolated occasion. Put more rigorously, here the fear of discovery and embarrassment refers not to the discovery of the change of character as much as to the discovery of fakery – "I believed he was one kind of person, but the truth is different (it was a character)." The reason why people feel embarrassed if their faked personality is discovered is that the intentional putting on of a personality (including faked personalities) is a taboo in "polite society." Even if it contains some authenticity, the intention to put on a personality violates this taboo. In the novel Sasameyuki, two men affect the manner of speech of a nobleman and a loyal friend, respectively. Although there was authenticity in these affectations (one really was of noble birth, the other was loyal, being the first to visit his ex-benefactor suffering from a flood), they become the object of dislike and contempt once their intentions to put on the airs of a "nobleman" and "loyal friend" are noticed (Jun'ichiro Tanizaki, Sasameyuki, Vol. II, 1947). The idea that "the speaker selects a style appropriate to the situation and controls his/her voice's speed and nasalization etc. in accordance with that style" appears very plausible. Still, as seen in the two examples from Sasameyuki, this idea does not in fact tell the whole story. This aesthetics is not limited to the modern era. When Sei Shonagon wrote: "I despise it when people who are not so very old, or men, purposefully put on rustic airs" (Makura no Soshi Revised by Ikeda Kikan, Iwanami Shoten), it seems she was referring to violations of this same taboo. Thus, although I am sympathetic to other scholars who focus on communication among modern youths in discussing "character," I want to put some distance between them and myself. The notion of profile I am pursuing here can be seen more generally, and is not limited to modern youths. "Polite society" depends on the convention of mutual recognition of "authenticity." In other words, in "polite society" you assume that I, the person before you, am authentic, and not deceiving you about my true identity. Similarly, I assume that you are authentic, and not falsifying your identity. Even after we part, I will be the same person, with respect to any other person, whether we meet 24 hours later, or 365 days later. I assume that you too are like this. This is why expressions like "there are a lot of facets to you," and "there's a lot about that person we don't know," have the potential to freeze a conversation if said aloud, even though they are, upon consideration, perfectly obvious. These are exactly the same, and would have the same chilling effect, as the question "is that a hairpiece?" This question smashes the "polite society" convention of assuming that we don't deceive others about our identity (baldness). Your hair is presumably real, and so is mine. While hairpieces do exist in the world, we assume that we, our friends, and everybody else have real hair. Because affecting a personality is a taboo that directly violates the "polite society" convention of mutually recognizing each other as "authentic," people worry about their affectations being detected, and feel ashamed of their affectations if they are noticed. Of course, in keeping with this convention of polite society, the traditional view of humans is that "barring some extraordinary circumstance, such as the disintegration of one's personality, people do not change depending on the situation and are always authentic. What changes is the style, not the person; people change their style in response to the situation." What this simultaneously expresses is that faced with the reality that humans sometimes break with convention, we must recognize the existence of characters, and that contrary to the traditional view of humanity, sometimes not only style but the person as well can change with the situation. If what I have said about "character" so far has given the reader the understanding that they are "personalities that can be used for a purpose," then I must say some intentional teleology has crept into the discussion. To be sure, there is much to overlap between characters and "personalities used for a purpose." However, this is not always the case. For example, consider (7): (7) Recently, feeling a bit like a criminal, I brought a fairly shy man, 12-years younger than myself, to a hot spring with my hot spring club. But the cause of my problems is that I always adopt the anego-kyara (...) I am not an anego -I'm not particularly elegant, nor am I quiet. I'm not aggressive when it comes to men either. (http://ameblo.jp/kschaitian/entry-11170734947.html) In this situation, the writer without realizing it, involuntarily falls into a certain character, a state of affairs with which she herself is not satisfied. Here, the anego­kyara (i.e. female boss character) is not a "personality that the writer is intentionally wielding" to achieve some goal. 3.4 A coming-out for the whole society Needless to say the conventions discussed earlier are important to those of us in "polite society." However, in reality it is impossible for us to obey these conventions and always let our natural selves show, no matter whom we are dealing with. In other words, we break these conventions and secretly put on affectations to make ourselves appear to be better than we really are. In some cases, such affectation is sanctioned by a coming-out (public recognition), not on an individual level, but for society in overall. As stated above, the deception, such as a hairpiece is still basically taboo in Japanese society, but women's makeup, although similar insofar as it is an affectation, has undergone a society-level coming-out and has become less taboo, as evidenced by the abundance of makeup retailers in Japanese cities. In Japanese society, as discussed earlier (4), the fact that the word kyara is appearing in everyday language indicates this kind of coming-out is occurring for characters too. Even so, as long as we try to remain the "polite society," conventions will be important; this coming-out is partial and limited. Putting on makeup in public, along with expressions like "heavy makeup" and "plaster on makeup," still have a negative image. Also, in contrast to "heavy makeup," the meaning of the expression "natural makeup" is currently wavering between "makeup that passes for one's natural face" (8) and "heavy makeup that passes for light makeup" (9). (8) If done successfully, natural makeup makes you look pretty without it looking like you're wearing makeup. It emphasizes your attractiveness to the maximum possible extent without covering your face's characteristic features. (http://josei.s353.xrea.com/MOTELU16.htm) (9) Natural makeup is difficult! You don't want to look like you're wearing no makeup, but you want to look natural yet beautiful... natural makeup requires the highest degree of technique. (http://ameblo.jp/misoziko/entry-11054732086.html) In either sense, the appearance of artifice is mitigated (to zero or very little). 3.5 Characters, from the clear to the indistinct In Japanese society, whether or not a celebrity has undergone plastic surgery can be a source of gossip, but in Korean culture it can be performed with relatively little protest, indicating that coming-out manifests differently depending on the society. Among different societies there are also differences in the extent to which characters manifest clearly or indistinctly. From this, we can see that there is not just one way of achieving balance between external and internal pressures. Societies with a high degree of freedom regarding style have a low degree of freedom regarding characters, so their existence is indistinct. Societies with a low degree of freedom regarding style have a high degree of freedom regarding characters, so their existence is clear. In general, Japanese-speaking society falls into the latter category. This can be ascertained by the above-mentioned appearance of the word "kyara/character" in everyday language, and the obsession with "complete coordination." One example is the assertion (10) that "idols don't go to the bathroom." (10) Minamoto is an idol so he doesn't go to the bathroom! (http://hiwihhi.com/takashi_shiina/status/1358814779547648) Sometimes a foreigner will act very kindly and genially to one person, then treat another coldly. To the foreigner, this is nothing more than a change of style, but not uncommonly, the Japanese guests will be shocked—"I thought he was a 'good person,' but it was an act." Fune, from the manga Sazaesan, and flight attendants are examples of "good people," as they are always equally "good" to everybody, and never frown or use rough language. By newly assigning a distinctly Japanese meaning to the foreign word "character" ((5) above), I am coming out about the fact that in recent Japanese society "people change with the situation." In this context, the existence of characters in Japanese society, as illustrated above, seems clear. 3.6 Summary and supplements In sum, adopting the concept of a character in communication research is essential if we do not want to ignore "adversity" within communication. Not everybody, as pragmatics often holds, is the kind of fine person who "to achieve a given goal selects an appropriate style in response to the situation and interlocutor, and then behaves in accordance with this style, in order to accomplish that goal." For many people, communication is a source of distress. It is impossible for the assumption of "selecting an appropriate style to achieve a given goal" to explain the distress people feel when, regardless of intent, they find themselves shoved into specific characters in the course of their personal relationships, for example the person who worried about inconsistency discussed in (6), or the aforementioned anego-kyara discussed in (7). In order to highlight this "adversity" we need to adopt the concept of character and reign in and adjust the often rampant teleology. However, it is noteworthy here that this anti-teleological feature of character need not always be obvious. As mentioned in 3.3, characters can overlap with fabricated personalities used for a purpose. In discussing the specificity of communication among young people in recent Japan, Fumiaki Senuma's paper (included in current issue) focuses on this side of intentional use of characters. This is fully compatible with my standpoint. In the context of play, character can be changed publicly. Changes in character occur in conjunction with behavior. When a person engages in a certain behavior, s/he deploys the character that is skilled at it. For example, in the manga Doraemon, there is a scene in which Nobita talks to himself, using polite Japanese, saying kore wa taihen na mono desu yo (this is a terribly fine item) (Fujiko F. Fujio, Doraemon Vol. 7, Shogakkan, p. 159). In order to appraise and enjoy these items, which he has secretly obtained from Doraemon, he deploys the "appraiser" character (who speaks intelligently and politely), which is skilled at appraising (evaluating, assessing). A similar example can be seen in Dazai Osamu's Haru no Kareha (1946), so we have been doing this sort of "character play" for a long time. See Sadanobu (2009) for more details. 4 Character in Japanese language Connections between a character and a language are diverse. Below, I will introduce these connections, explain one that this special report particularly illuminates, and discuss the significance of adopting the concept of a character in linguistic research. 4.1 Four connections between characters and language There are at least four connections between characters and language. (These four are not mutually exclusive.) First, language can directly express character, just as the Japanese word botchan (rich male kid) indicates a "self-centered male," regardless of age. Secondly, as already mentioned, language (e.g. the Japanese word ore), in addition to expressing meaning (e.g. the speaker; "I"), can implicitly express the character of the speaker ("an unrefined male"). I refer to the speech-producing character as the "speaker's character," and call the language such characters produce, taking a cue from Satoshi Kinsui, "role language." What is important is that unlike "role" in its everyday sense, role language, as in (11), is defined in a form that does not include teleology. (11) When we can imagine a specific profile (age, gender, occupation, status, era, features, appearance personality, etc.) from a specific language usage (vocabulary, wording, expressions, intonation, etc.), or when we are presented with a specific profile and can imagine the type of language people of that profile will probably use, this is called role language. (Kinsui 2003) Kinsui has since narrowed this definition of the concept of role language somewhat. See Kinsui's paper (in current issue) for details. (However, here I will use the definition from (11), unaltered, for role language.) Thirdly, language that expresses an action also implicitly expresses the character that is performing that action, just as nitarito hokusoemu (chuckle grimly) conveys a "villain's" manner of laughing. In this case, the character is referred to as the "referent's character." Fourthly, language that expresses a thought can also implicitly express the character of a thinker (the "thinker's character). While the thinker's character is similar to the speaker's character, the two are not the same. For example, while a speaker who is a refined lady character would not say "Can't something be done?" (nantoka naranai ka) or "that seems sketchy" (nandaka ayashii na), this observation does not apply when she is thinking to herself, as shown in (12) and (13) (12) "Can't something be done?" the peeress thought earnestly. (13) I thought it seemed sketchy too. When thoughts emerge as words, our ability to use them is a case of words becoming a sort of work of art or product. In other words, the conceptualized character becomes the thinker's character, acting as illustrator. On this point, the thinker's character is relevant not only to the speaker's character, but also to the referent's character. As many of the articles in this report are focused on the third of the above four connections, I want to discuss the second (connection between speaker's character and role language) below. For the details of the other three connections, see Sadanobu (2012, Feb 5-2015, Dec 6). 4.2 Two types of speaker's characters Role language is indeed seen in other languages. Here two categories of speaker's character are relevant: the "Us" type and "Foreigner" type. The "Us" type is a resident of the modern community of standard Japanese speakers, for which four scales are assumed to exist: "gender" (male/female), "age" (elderly/middle aged/youth/child), "status" (high/low), and "class" (refined/vulgar). All others are "Foreigner" type characters. These correspond with characters such as the "Space Alien" who says Chikyujin ni tsugu. ("Attention, earthlings.") with monotonous flat intonation, the "Heian Aristocrat" who says Maro wa... de ojaru ("I am..."), the "Westerner" who says Nihonominasan koniichiwa! ("Hello everyone in Japan!"), the "Country Folk" who say Ora, waganne ("I don't know."), and the "Cat" who says Sore wo nya, nanto ka nya.... ("That is -meow-something about -meow-..."). While "Us" type characters exist densely on the four scales, "Foreigner" types occur only sporadically; e.g. there is a "Heian Aristocrat" character but no "Heian Commoner." "Foreigner" type speaker characters, such as the "Ancient Noble," "Politician," or "Soldier" are seen as speakers of foreign languages; so the heart of the problem is the "Us" types. Although it is well-known that Japanese language has a lot of first person pronouns such as watashi, washi, atashi, asshi, atai, ore, oira, and boku (e.g. Siewierska 2004), role language is not limited to the first-person pronouns. We can find role language in the ubiquity of Japanese speech. It is not uncommon for the speaker's character to be revealed by just a single word. For example, soreo-da-ne would be used by an "Older Man" kyara, soreo-ja-na by a "Senior Citizen" kyara, soreo-yo (in rising intonation) by a "Woman" kyara, and soreo-yo (in sharply rising and falling intonation) by a "Vulgar Man" kyara, although all of these phrases would translate into English as "it." Speaking Japanese appropriately requires one to think first about the speaker's character. This is why learners of Japanese sometimes sound strange when they use textbook Japanese or Japanese they learned verbatim from a significant other who natively speaks Japanese. It is a large problem in Japanese language education and learning. Yukiko Shukuri's article (in current issue) addresses this problem based on her experiences as a Japanese instructor. 4.3 Summary and supplements The above undermines the legitimacy of the thesis that "Japanese is the same, no matter who uses it." In reality, many kinds of Japanese are being spoken, depending on the speaker's character4 . Accepting this reality requires that we implement the concept of characters in Japanese language research. Details of this can be found in Kenji Tomosada's article (in current issue), but here I will very briefly introduce two examples of this phenomenon. The first phenomenon is related to the prosody of interjections. There are dozens of interjections in Japanese, just in the common language. Heretofore, the prosody of these has remained unclear. In simplified terms, it was understood only that, for example, the interjection of surprise ara can be said with either a rising or falling intonation. In adopting the concept of characters we, receive the principle that "interjections of surprise are said with a rising intonation." This principle seems feasible, considering that when surprised, the voice shifts from a low intonation, 4 While it does not focus on character, Iwasaki (2005) is also opposed to this thesis, instead examining the diversity in the real Japanese language. reflecting the speaker's composed state, to a high one, reflecting an agitated state. So, why can ara be said with a falling intonation, in departure from this principle? This is a specialized pronunciation, limited to speakers with a "refined" character. When reading aloud the sentence Hako wo akete mireba ara fushigi ("When I opened the box -oh! It was mysterious") from a story, the reader's interjection expresses not only his/her own, but the story's protagonist's, surprise. This interjection is usually read with a falling intonation. That is, interjections that express the surprise of others are said with a falling intonation. We are deferential when expressing surprise on behalf of others, as a speaker with a refined character would call for refinement. This is the story behind the shifting intonation of ara. Thus, by employing the concept of character, we can neatly clear up phenomenon that had appeared confusing until now. See Sadanobu (2015) for detail. The second phenomenon has to do with environments in which kyara-joshi (character-particles) occur. Traditionally, shu-joshi (sentential-final particles) such as yo, na, and ne, which can appear at the ends of Japanese sentences, were thought of as a closed set of attitudinal words. In reality, words may appear after the shu-joshi that are related to not the speaker's attitude, but to his/her character (e.g. uso-da-yo­pyo—n, "Just kidding-pyo—n"). This is limited to the context of play, but by examining similar cases in regional dialects, one can observe parallel phenomena without this limitation. For example, natives of the Matsushima coast of Miyagi Prefecture, when asking "Aren't there any pickles?" —oshinko wa arimasen ka? in standard Japanese— say oshinko neesu-ka-wa? After the interrogative shu-joshi ka, they add the 1st person pronoun wa (i.e. I), expressing identity (Fujiwara, 1994, p. 238). As shown above, the concept of character offers an opportunity to fundamentally reappraise sentence structure (Sadanobu, 2007). Kenji Tomosada's article (included in current issue) further explores this issue from the perspective of regional dialects. Conclusions This article introduced various ideas related to characters circulating in modern Japan (dramatic personae, Ito's (2005) Kyara and its successors' ideas, and situation-based self). It dealt with my own definition of character (situation-based self) in detail, and discussed its significance for communication and linguistic research. The major characteristics of my definition are: (i) it is based on the traditionally taboo idea that "humans can change in response to the situation," and (ii) it is not something created by researchers (the author), but rather was formed by speakers of Japanese in the course of daily life. I merely employed this word, as-is, as a technical term as I thought it conveyed the keen awareness of the speakers with respect to communication and language in Japan. However, Japanese speakers are highly conscious of the self's situation-sensitiveness, but there is no need to think of Japanese society as unique just because it was the first to come out about this fact in coining the loan word kyarakutaa with this new meaning. Of course, the context in which the heretofore taboo idea that people change in response to the situation, together with the word kyarakutaa, rapidly spread and took root, must be thought of as distinct to Japanese society. Yet, I believe that it is perhaps sufficient to think about that context as a relative difference of degree, i.e. "a low degree of freedom in style, and a correspondingly large degree of freedom in character." If this is the case, the significance of character to communication and linguistics would not be limited to Japan, but should be similar for other language communities, albeit to differing extents. So, my hope is that this article will provide opportunities for character-related cross-cultural research on communication and languages. Additionally, "character" is not a theory that is in competition with Mikhail Bakhtin's polyphony, Erving Goffman's self-presentation, Elinor Ochs's social identity, John Gumperz's contextualization, or moreover critical discourse analysis. While character is a concept that is consciously recognized and mentioned by many native speakers of Japanese in daily life, it is not a theory. It is merely a concept that I have included in my own research framework. So, character is not something that stands within a competitive relationship to those other conceptual frameworks. Rather, the concept of character can be incorporated into many theories to increase their descriptiveness. If one were to speak of competition between theories in relation to character, it would be between theories that can incorporate the concept of character and those that cannot. Theories that recognize only conscious behaviors as human communicative behaviors cannot accept characters. Such theories do not handle unconscious phenomena —e.g. A unintentionally yawns, causing B to yawn too; A begins to cry, causing B to empathetically begin crying too— as communicative phenomena. These theories have a traditional view of humanity, which assumes that people can only change their styles according to the situation to achieve goals. According to this view, the person's style may change in response to the situation, but the person him/herself does not (barring multiple personality disorder), regardless of the situation. In other words, it is this traditional view of humanity that cannot accept the phenomenon of characters. Acknowledgements I thank Prof/ !ndrej Bekeš for giving us such a precious opportunity/ This work was partially supported by the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology, Grant-in-Aid for Scientific Research (A), 23242023 and 15H02605. References Aihara, H. (2007). Kyara-ka suru Nippon. Tokyo: Kodansha. Aoki, S. (2014). 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Studii de Ştiinţă şi Cultură, 5 (1) 16-25. http://www.revista-studii­uvvg.ro/images/stories/16/metamorfoza.pdf Sadanobu, T. (2011). Nihongo shakai nozoki kyarakuri: Kaotsuki, karadatsuki, kotobatsuki. Tokyo: Sanseido. Sadanobu, T. (2010, Mar 14-2012, Feb 26). An unofficial guide for Japanese characters. (English translation of the draft of Sadanobu (2011)) Senseido Word-Wise Web. Retrieved from http://dictionary.sanseido-publ.co.jp/wp/author/sadanobu-e/ Sadanobu, T. (2012, Feb 5-2015, Dec 6). Nihongo shakai nozoki kyarakuri hoi. (A supplement to Sadanobu (2011)) Sanseido Word-Wise Web. Retrieved from http://dictionary.sanseido-publ.co.jp/wp/author/sadanobu/ Sadanobu, T. (2015). Kandoushi to naibujoutai no musubitsuki no meikakuka nimukete. In K. Tomosada (Ed.), Kandoushi no gengogaku (pp. 3-14). Tokyo: Hitsuji Shobo. Saito, T. (2011). Kyarakutaa seishinbunseki: Manga, bungaku, Nihonjin. Tokyo: Chikuma Shobo. Senuma, F. (2007). Kyararon. Tokyo: Studio Cello. Senuma, F. (2009). Naze wakai sedai wa "kyara"-ka surunoka. Tokyo: Kasga Publishing Inc. Shinjo, K. (2009). Monogatari kougakuron: nyuumonhen kyarakutaa o tsukuru. Tokyo: Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan. Siewierska, A. (2004). Person. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sperber, D. & Wilson, D. (1986). Relevance: Communication and Cognition. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Uno, T. (2008). Zeronendai no souzouryoku. Tokyo: Hayakawa Shobo. ROLE LANGUAGE AND CHARACTER LANGUAGE Satoshi KINSUI Hiroko YAMAKIDO Osaka University, Japan Fuji Women's University, Japan kinsui@let.osaka-u.ac.jp hyamakid@fujijoshi.ac.jp Abstract Since Kinsui's (2000, 2003) initial proposal, research on role language has progressed with the topics growing more diverse. In this paper we propose that a peculiar speech style assigned to a certain character in fiction should be treated as character language rather than role language. Role language, which is based on social and cultural stereotypes, is a subset of character language. Given that role language is also a linguistic stereotype, its knowledge should be widely shared by members of the speech community, and its patterns within limits. Character language, on the other hand, allows for various types, being far from being a closed class. We examine and give examples of four types of character language: speech styles that could become actual role language, once shared widely in the speech community; speech styles that are effectively adopted by characters outside of their expected speaker's social and cultural groups; speech styles employed to represent something other than their stereotypes; and uniquely created speech styles. Keywords: role language; character; stereotype; fiction; dialect Povzetek Obseg raziskav, ki se ukvarjajo z jezikom vlog, se je od prvih raziskav (Kinsui 2000; 2003) močno povečal/ Tokratna raziskava se posveča govornim slogom v igranih filmih in predlaga, da se specifični govorni slog, dodeljen nekemu značaju v igranem filmu, obravnava kot jezik likov in ne kot jezik vlog. Jezik vlog, ki temelji na socialnih in kulturnih stereotipih, je tako le ena izmed podskupin jezika značaja/ Ob predvidevanju, da je jezik vlog jezikoslovni stereotip, je potrebno znanje o njem razširiti med vse člane govorne skupine, med katerimi je takšen jezikoslovni stereotip razširjen. V nasprotju z njim jezik likov dovoljuje različne sloge in ga zato dojemamo kot odprto kategorijo/ Članek pregleda in poda primere o štirih različnih tipih slogov jezika likov. Prvi tip je skupina slogov, ki lahko postanejo dejanski jezik vlog, nekoč že razširjen v določeni govorni skupini/ Drugi tip je skupina slogov, katere so določeni značaji v igranih filmih uspešno privzeli, vendar se ti razlikujejo od pričakovanih slogov, ki naj bi pripadali govorčevi socialni in kulturni skupini. Tretji tip je skupina slogov, ki zastopajo značilnosti, drugačne od njihovih stereotipov/ Zadnja skupina slogov so edinstveno ustvarjeni govorni slogi. Ključne besede: jezik vlog; lik; stereotip; igrani film; narečje Acta Linguistica Asiatica, 5(2), 2015. ISSN: 2232-3317, http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ DOI: 10.4312/ala.5.2.29-42 Introduction The concept of role language ("yakuwarigo") was first introduced by Kinsui (2000). Three years later in 2003, he defined role language as in (1): (1) Role language ("yakuwarigo"): a set of spoken language features (such as vocabulary, grammar and phonetic characteristics) that can be psychologically associated with a particular character type. (Character's attributes include age, gender, occupation, social status, appearance and personality.) (Kinsui, 2003, p. 205) Let us look at the examples in Japanese in (2). While (2a), (2b) and (2c) are all roughly equivalent with the meaning, 'Yes, I know (that),' interestingly each sentence projects a different type of character as its speaker: an elderly man for (2a), a girl for (2b), and a macho guy for (2c): (2) 'Yes, I know (that).' a. So-ja washi ga shit-teoru-zo. yes-COPULA I NOM know-ASPECT-PARTICLE b. So-yo atashi ga shit-teiru-wa. yes-[ZERO COPULA]­ PARTICLE I NOM know-ASPECT-PARTICLE c. So-da ore ga shit-teru-ze. yes-COPULA I NOM know-ASPECT-PARTICLE (Teshigawara & Kinsui, 2011, p. 37 (from Kinsui, 2010, p. 14)) As discussed in Kinsui (2010) and Teshigawara and Kinsui (2011), the different type of character portrayed for each sentence above comes from the combination of the copula (i.e., ja, [ZERO COPULA+] PARTICLE yo, or da), first person pronoun (i.e., washi, atashi or ore), aspect form (i.e., teoru, teiru or teru), and final particle (i.e., zo, wa or ze). Indeed, role language is often used in fiction because it helps the audience immediately understand the character type of the speaker. Kinsui (2003) developed the theoretical framework of role language (that of Japanese in particular) and examined the origin of role language through several case studies. Since this groundbreaking work, research in this area has made great strides, with the publication of various works including two edited volumes of collected papers (Kinsui (ed.), 2007, 2011), a scholarly book (Kinsui, 2014) and a dictionary of role language (Kinsui (ed.), 2014). As research on role language has progressed with the topics growing more diverse, however, there has been a greater need to refine the definition of role language. The following three points in (3), in particular, need further elaboration: (3) i. The earlier definition does not specify the extent to which knowledge about the association of a particular language feature with a certain character type (or attribute) must be shared for it to be considered a type of role language. Can we consider it to be role language if even only one individual possesses the knowledge, or does it have to be shared by all members of the speech community? ii. The earlier definition does not specify what can constitute a speaker's attributes. Can any attribute of the speaker associated with a particular language feature qualify as role language? iii. The earlier definition does not specify how role language relates broadly to stereotypes. Let us begin with (3-i). Though it is impossible for us to determine exactly how many individuals must recognize a certain speech type for it to be considered role language, and though it is also unrealistic to assume that all Japanese speakers share knowledge of any particular role language, it is reasonable to say that the more widely shared such knowledge is, the more likely it is to be established as role language. On the other hand, knowledge that is shared by only a group of fans of a specific work or genre, or by populations of a certain generation, cannot be considered a type of role language. As for (3-ii), the speaker's attributes linked to role language should only be of easily recognized social and cultural groups (such as gender, generation/age, area of residence/nationality/ethnicity, and social class/occupation). After all, when considered in concrete terms, it is different social and cultural groups who produce regional and social dialectal variations, and we can naturally understand their relation to language. (Sadanobu (2011), in contrast, does not limit role language to any such range of attributes, and rather expands the definition to include any type of language that can be associated with a character; this is close to what we refer to as "character language", as discussed below.) Note that we will extend social and cultural groups to supernatural creatures (e.g., gods, ghosts, monsters, fairies and aliens), artifacts (e.g., robots), and characters of personified animals and inanimate creatures (though they would never speak human language in reality). Kinsui (ed.) (2014) divides varieties of role languages into six categories based on six subgroups of social and cultural groups, (4-i)-(4vi), in The Concise Dictionary of Role Language: (4) Subgroup Type i. Gender: male language, female language, gay male language ii. Age/Generation: elderly male language, elderly female language, middle-aged male language, young speaker's language, boy's language, schoolgirl language, gal language iii. Social class/occupation: wealthy woman's language, young-lady-from-a-good-family language, boss language, formal-speech language, king/nobles language, powerful person's language, butler's language, army language, comedian's language, doctor's language, (young-)dancing-girl-of-Kyoto language, maid language, yakuza (gangster) language, delinquent-girl's language, sumo-wrestler language iv. Region/nationality/ethnicity: Osaka language/Kansai language, rural language, Okinawan language, Owari language, Tosa language, Nagoya language, Kyushu language, Kyoto language, arimasu-language, aruyo­language, pidgin, broken language, Chinese language v. Pre-modern: Edo language, princess language, Kyoto-Osaka language, court-noble language, live-in student language, merchant-class language, ninja language, samurai language, prostitute language, jii (old chaperon) language, downtown language vi. Imaginary creatures: alien language, god language, ghost language Finally consider (3-iii). Characters in fiction who are assigned role language to speak often exhibit other stereotypes associated with the role language. For example, a speaker who speaks a rural language is not only a rural person (= the primary stereotype), but is also portrayed as having other stereotypical attributes of a person from the country: unsophisticated, uneducated and gullible. A character who speaks a rural role language but does not behave like a "rural person" does not represent a typical example of how that role language is used. Now that we limit the speaker's attributes of role language to social and cultural groups, it becomes apparent that this definition excludes some fictional characters who speak in a somewhat peculiar manner that is neither role language nor the standard language. Up to now, in the short history of role language research, which is only about fifteen years long, the speech of such characters has sometimes been considered as a form of role language. In this paper, however, we will consider this style of speech "character language", not role language. There are four representative types of character language, as in (5): (5) i. a speech style that, while associated with a particular social or cultural group, is not widely enough recognized within the speech community at large to qualify as true role language ii. a speech style in which a type of role language is unexpectedly adopted by a character who does not belong to the social or cultural group with which it is typically associated iii. a speech style in which a type of role language is employed to express its speaker's personality, rather than the stereotype of the social or cultural group with which it is associated iv. a peculiar speech style that does not correspond to any social or cultural group, but is assigned to a certain character for his/her role in the story In the following chapters, we will examine each type of character language with examples. Character Language Type (i): Restricted Role Language Nishida (2011) and Togashi (2011) discuss a particular type of speech by young women with a certain attribute called tsundere, who appear in works targeting comic-book or anime fanatics. The term tsundere can refer to either (i) a state of mind in which a young woman behaves with excessive coldness toward a guy even though she is actually crazy about him underneath, or (ii) a young woman with this state of mind. The particular speech style observed in tsundere women involves stuttering and a frequent use of imperative and strong conclusive expressions. Young female individuals can be considered as a social and cultural group; however, the knowledge of tsundere in connection with this particular speech style is shared only among comic-book or anime fanatics, not more widely in the Japanese speech community. The tsundere speech style discussed in Nishida (2011) and Togashi (2011) is therefore a perfect example of character language, rather than true role language. Another example of such restricted role language is aruyo language, a particular speech style often associated with Chinese people. Kinsui (2014) explores how aruyo language, a kind of pidgin, has come to serve as a type of role language historically. There are two kinds of constructions with distinctive endings: (i) the aru construction, used for affirmation, which is formed by adding the common Japanese existential verb aru to the base form of a verb or a noun, and (ii) the yoroshii construction, used for commands, requests and suggestions, which is formed by adding yoroshii (lit. 'good') to the base form of a verb. (6) is an extract from Yama-otoko no Shigatsu [The Mountain Man in April] (included in Chumon no Oi Ryori-ten [The Restaurant of Many Orders] (1921)) by Kenji Miyazawa. As far as we know, this is the earliest example of aruyo language observed in fiction: (6) ..................................................—..................................(..)..........................................................—.....................................(.... (1921).......) Anata kono kusuri nomu yoroshii. Doku nai. you this medicine drink good poison not.exist Kesshite doku nai. Nomu yoroshii. Watashi saki nomu. never poison not.exist drink good I first drink Shinpai nai. Watashi biiru nomu, ocha nomu. worry not.exist I beer drink tea drink Doku noma-nai. Kore nagaiki-no kusuri aru. Nomu yoroshii. poison drink-not. this longevity-GEN medicine exist. drink good 'Take this medicine. It's not poison. This is by no means poison. Take it. I will go first, so no worries. I drink beer. I drink tea. But I don't take poison. This is a medicine for a long life. Take it.' —Kenji Miyazawa (1921) Yama-otoko no Shigatsu Here in (6) a typical use of aruyo language can be observed, with both the aru and yoroshii constructions included. Interestingly, however, this work is unique among works of the time in using aruyo language to represent Chinese people. For example, in Kuchimane (1923) by Kyusaku Yumeno, a work from the same era with a theme similar to that of The Mountain Man in April, aruyo language cannot be observed at all. Furthermore, more common in other works of popular culture was the arimasu construction from the Meiji Era, derived from aru + masu (polite marker). Aruyo language has become common only since it started appearing in certain influential works such as the manga series Norakuro (the late 1930s-). The speech style used in Miyazawa's work was indeed ahead of its time, for aruyo language had not yet become established as a role language of Chinese characters. Kenji Miyazawa adopted aruyo language in his work probably because he found its effect interesting, not because he foresaw that this particular speech style would be associated with Chinese people (that is, understood to be the role language of Chinese people). Besides, it is unlikely that Miyazawa was influential enough during his lifetime to start this social trend, so we cannot find any strong relation of this children's story by Miyazawa to the fact that aruyo language later became popular and established as role language. Character Language Type (ii): Role Language Shifted Outside of Its Social or Cultural Groups In Disney's animated films, there are quite a few characters who speak African American Vernacular English (AAVE) though they are not African American. AAVE is "a cover term describing distinctive varieties of English spoken by Americans of African descent" (O'Grady et al., 2005, p. 628), with distinctive linguistic features in phonology, morpho-syntax and lexicon. (See Green (2002) for the details.) Given that it is typically associated with a particular ethnicity (i.e., Americans of African descent), AAVE is no doubt a type of role language. Lippi-Green (1997, 2012) reports an interesting study of varieties of English used in Disney's animated films from 1937 to 1994. Her findings include the following: (7) i. Among a total of 371 characters, whereas 43.1 percent (n = 161) speak SAE (Standard American English) (and the like), 13.9 percent speak other varieties of US English (8% regionally peripheral and 5% socially peripheral). ii. Among a total of 161 SAE speakers, 43.1 percent appear in humanoid form, and 54.4 percent in animal form. iii. All AAVE-speaking characters appear in animal rather than humanoid form (although Lippi-Green carefully notes that "[g]iven the low overall number of !!VE speakers, [0\, it is hard to draw any inferences from that fact"). (Lippi-Green, 2012, p. 115, p. 123) It is not surprising that in these films for children many of the characters are (personified) animals, but the question is: among these animal characters, who would never speak human language in reality, how does Disney decide which ones speak SAE and which ones speak AAVE? Since AAVE is typically associated with African Americans, it might be reasonable to assume that animal characters of African descent would speak AAVE; however, it seems that things are not so simple. In The Lion King (1994), for example, whose characters are all African animals, one of the minor characters, the hyena Shenzi, does speak AAVE, but the main character, the lion Simba, as well as his father and best friend all speak SAE (or something close to it) (Lippi-Green, 2012, p. 122). In fact, the interesting study conducted by Dobrow and Gidney (1998) shows that many children's animated TV programs use "dialect stereotypes to indicate a character's personality or status as a hero or villain or as serious or comic" (p. 115), and "[d]ialects are frequently used by minor characters, both comic and evil" (p. 116). If this also applies to Disney's animated films, then those AAVE-speaking animal characters should either have comic personalities or be villains. Is this really the case here? As our sample we have selected five animal characters who speak AAVE in Disney's animated films. 1 Information on each character, including his or her behavioral evaluation (positive, negative or mixed) and appearance, is given in Table 1 (partially taken from Lippi-Green (2012, pp. 120-1)). Table 1: Five animal characters who speak AAVE in Disney's animated films Film (release year) Story setting Character name Sex Behavior evaluation Appearance Dumbo (1941) Florida, US Jim Crow, crow M mixed black; stylish The Jungle Book (1967) India King Louie, orangutan M mixed red; tall, fat The Lion King (1994) Africa Shenzi, hyena F negative dark grey Mulan (1998) Ancient China Mushu, dragon M positive red; tiny The Princess and the Frog (2009) New Orleans, US Louis, alligator M positive olive green; tall, fat 1 Many of the descriptions for each character given later in this chapter are taken from The Disney Wiki [http://disney.wikia.com/wiki/The_Disney_Wiki]. Let's start with Jim Crow in Dumbo. He is the leader of a flock of five crows who speak and sing in AAVE. The name Jim Crow has strong racial connotations, and the scene where the crows sing the song titled "When I See an Elephant Fly" reminds many viewers of a "Blackface" minstrel performance. At the same time, his character is portrayed as "generally good-natured, albeit with tendencies towards jokes and teasing" (The Disney Wiki). He is also very fashionable, with a blue vest, a brown bowler hat with a blue feather accessory, pink spats, and a cigar). His role provides an example of a kind of African American stereotype: Zip Coon, a famous Blackface characters characterized as "an arrogant, ostentatious figure, [0\ dressed in high style and spoke in a series of malaprops and puns that undermined his attempts to appear dignified, [0\" (Black-Face.com). (See Bogle (2001) and Luther, Lepre and Clark (2012) (among others) for the detailed discussions of African American stereotypes in U.S. media.) The second character to be examined is the orangutan King Louie in The Jungle Book. He scats and speaks in AAVE, and "provides an example of another kind of stereotype: the African American entertainer, the jokester or trickster" (Lippi-Green, 2012, p. 123). In the story, his only goal in life is "to be the one thing he is not: a human being, a man" for, as Lippi-Green explains, "African American males who are not linguistically assimilated to the sociolinguistic norms of a middle and colorless United States are allowed very few possibilities in life, but they are allowed to want those things they do not have and cannot be" (p. 123). King Louie reminds us of another AAVE-speaking character, the alligator Louis in The Princess and the Frog, which was released forty-two years after The Jungle Book. He loves playing the trumpet, and "his dream is to become a famous jazz singer who can perform in front of a human audience without scaring anyone," and "his last attempt to play with humans ended with his audience panicking at the sight of an alligator" (The Disney Wiki). He is, however, different from King Louie in The Jungle Book in that his dream comes true in the end, and in the way he provides comic relief in the story; despite his huge body and scary appearance, he has several phobias and acts silly sometimes. This side of his personality and behavior fits another stereotype of African American, the Tom, who is kind-hearted and submissive.2 The next AAVE-speaking animal character to be examined is Mushu, a mythical dragon, in Mulan (voiced by Eddie Murphy). His role is to provide comic relief in the story. Despite his small-sized body and silly nature, he plays the role of guardian to the heroine Mulan. Indeed, he is able to help her escape from the biggest crisis by blowing fire. He represents another African American stereotypes: the buddy or sidekick. 2 The Princess and the Frog is set in New Orleans, US, where some of the human characters including the heroine Tiana, a young African-American girl, speak AAVE. So it is reasonable that Louis speaks AAVE, too (though another important animal character, the firefly Ray, speaks Cajun) (Lippi-Green, 2012, p. 121). Our last AAVE-speaking character is the hyena Shenzi in The Lion King (voiced by Whoopi Goldberg). As mentioned above, although the story is set in Africa, some of the animal characters exhibiting positive behavior (including the main character Simba and his father Mufasa, who is the King of the Pride Lands) speak SAE or slight variations thereof. On the other hand, AAVE-speaking Shenzi, whose behavior is evaluated as negative, is the leader of the hyena trio, who are "loyal followers and minions" of Mufasa's evil brother, Scar (The Disney Wiki).3 As Lippi-Green (2012) points out, Shenzi's use of this specific type of dialect would send a "familiar" message to viewers including children: "AAVE speakers occupy the dark and frightening places, where Simba does not belong and should not be; he belongs on the sunny savannah where *SAE speakers like his father live" (p. 122). Thus, a speech style can sometimes be employed by a character who is not a member of its associated social or cultural group. We have examined the application of AAVE to animal characters in Disney's animated films. Although they all represent good examples of African American stereotypes, they are not African American, so the AAVE employed by them should be considered character language rather than role language. Character Language Type (iii): Regional Dialect Employed to Represent a Character's Personality When a regional dialect is used as role language in fiction, it typically means that its story is set in that region, or that the speaker of the dialect exhibits some stereotype associated with the region. It is also usually the case that lines in dialect are assigned to minor characters. The main character and other important characters, on the other hand, generally speak a standard language. Though from the region where the dialect is spoken, they typically do not speak with a strong accent or speak a language clos e to the standard one. This is because it is easier for the audience to understand the lines and to identify themselves with the main character. (This is called the theory of role language (Kinsui, 2003; Kinsui, Tanaka & Okamuro (eds.), 2014).) In some TV dramas featuring a Japanese regional dialect, their main characters speak the dialect with a strong accent from beginning to end, however. For example, the heroine of Yae no Sakura (2013), Yae, born to a gunnery master in Aizu, Fukushima, in the last days of the Tokugawa shogunate, grew up speaking Aizu dialect with a thick accent. She continued to speak this dialect, however, even after she had grown up and moved to Kyoto. Her use of the dialect can be interpreted as the creators' way of symbolically showing that throughout her life, the heroine held on to the strong spirit that she had acquired in her youth. Thus, a regional dialect can be 3 It is interesting to note that Scar, who is serious and a villain, speaks British English. This matches Dobrow and Gidney's (1998) finding: dialects and foreign accents are frequently employed by a comic and a villain in children's animated TV programs though "none of the comic characters in [their] sample used British English" (p. 116). used to show a character's personality, and here it should be considered as character language, not as role language (Kinsui, Tanaka & Okamuro (eds.), 2014). Character Language Type (iv): Unique Character Language In Haruki Murakami's Umibe no Kafuka [Kafka on the Shore] and 1Q84, there are two characters whose speech styles have a big impact on readers: Mr. Nakata and Fuka-Eri respectively. In Kafka on the Shore Mr. Nakata is an aged resident of Nakano Ward, Tokyo, who is mentally retarded and illiterate, but has a special ability to speak to cats. His shadow on the ground is only half as dark as ordinary people's, and he lacks all sorts of desires including sexual desire. At the beginning of the story, he lives on a subsidy while making some extra money by occasionally searching for lost cats. Later, having committed murder, though it is not clear to the reader if it really happened or not, he leaves home, and starts on an adventurous journey. He calls himself by his own family name, Nakata, and speaks extremely politely to anybody including cats with the sentence-ending –de arimasu. The example in (8) is a dialogue between Mr/ Nakata and Mr/ Otsuka (a cat living in the neighborhood). (8) ........................................................................................................................................................................................... (.... (2002)....... (.).... , p. 96) "I must say, though, that for a human you have an odd way of talking," Otsuka commented. "Yes, everybody tells me that. But this is the only way Nakata can speak. I try to talk normally, but this is what happens. Nakata's not very bright, you see. I wasn't always this way, but when I was little I was in an accident and I've been dumb ever since. Nakata can't write. Or read a book or a newspaper." —Haruki Murakami (2005) Kafka on the Shore (P. Gabriel, Trans.) Knopf, p. 44 Kato (2009) points out that Mr. Nakata's speech style was greatly influenced by that of Eeyore in Atarashi Hito yo Mezame yo [Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age!] (1983) by Kenzaburo Oe, who modelled Eeyore after Hikaru, his own brain-damaged son (p. 268). In 1Q84, Fuka-Eri (Eriko Fukada) is a seventeen-year-old girl who contributed a novel titled Kuki Sanagi [Air Chrysalis] to a publisher, which led her to meet the main character, Tengo, a prep school teacher and would-be novelist. Though suffering from dyslexia, Fuka-Eri has an extraordinarily good memory and a talent for music, probably showing the characteristics of savant syndrome. She speaks extremely monotonously without any intonation, and does not use polite language at all. She does not use any address terms, response markers or final particles. Nor does she use a rising intonation for question sentences, a fact indicated by Murakami by his omission of a question mark, so it is sometimes difficult for the audience to tell if they are declarative or interrogative in the original Japanese text. (9) ...........................................................................................................................................................................(....(2009).1Q84(Book 1).p. 98) "There's someone to meet," Fuka-Eri said. "Someone you want me to meet?" She nodded. "Now, who could that be?" She ignored his question. "To talk to," she added. "Are you free Sunday morning," she asked, without a question mark. "I am," Tengo said. It's as if we're talking in semaphore, he thought. —Haruki Murakami (2012) 1Q84 (J. Rubin, Trans.) DIP Inc. Vintage, p. 69 Mr. Nakata and Fuka-Eri are both mentally retarded, the result of childhood trauma— Mr. Nakata having been physically abused by his teacher in elementary school, and Fuka-Eri having been sexually abused by her own father. On the other hand, both of them are endowed with a power to receive messages from the supernatural realm, beyond what ordinary people would ever know, and it is these messages that guide their actions throughout the stories and therefore move the whole stories forward. Their peculiar speech styles help the audience understand that they are mentally retarded and furthermore connect the main character as well as other characters with the supernatural. In this sense, their language faculties and practical use of language are very important attributes in developing the stories, but these attributes cannot be analyzed as the application of any stereotype. Therefore, we cannot consider their speech styles as role language. Summary In this paper we have proposed that a peculiar speech style assigned to a certain character in fiction should be treated as character language rather than role language. Role language, which is based on social and cultural stereotypes, is a subset of character language. Given that role language is also a linguistic stereotype, its knowledge should be widely shared by members of the speech community, and its patterns within limits. Character language, on the other hand, allows for various types, being far from being a closed class. We have examined and given examples of four types of character language: speech styles that could become actual role language, once shared widely in the speech community; speech styles that are effectively adopted by characters outside of their expected speaker's social and cultural groups; speech styles employed to represent something other than their stereotypes; and uniquely created speech styles. Acknowledgements We thank Dane Hampton and Charles Mueller for proofreading the manuscript. References Black-Face.com. (n.d.) Blackface! Retrieved October 19, 2015, from http://black-face.com Bogle, D. (2001) Toms, Coons, Mulattoes, Mammies, & Bucks, fourth edition. New York: Continuum. Dobrow, J. and Gidney, C. (1998) "The good, the bad, and the foreign: The use of dialect in children's animated television." ANNALS, AAPSS 557: 105-119. Green, L. J. (2002) African American English: A Linguistic Introduction. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kato, T. (2009) Murakami Haruki Yellow Pages 3. Tokyo: Gentosha. Kinsui, S. (2000) "Yakuwarigo tankyu no teian [! proposal for exploring role language/" In K. Sato (ed.) Kokugo Ronkyu [Inquiries into Japanese Language\ vol; 8, Kokugo-shi no Shin-shiten [A New Perspective on the History of the Japanese Language]. Tokyo: Meiji Shoin, pp. 311-35. Kinsui, S. (2003) Virtual Nihongo: Yakuwarigo no Nazo [Virtual Japanese: The Enigma of Role Language]. Tokyo: Iwanami Publisher. Kinsui, S. (ed.) (2007) Yakuwarigo Kenkyu no Chihei [New Horizon of Role Language Research]. Tokyo: Kurosio Publisher. Kinsui, S. (2010) "On 'role language' in contemporary Japanese: An investigation of stereotypical styles in Japanese language." Proceedings of the Symposium 'Yakuwari/Kyarakuta/Gengo' [Roles/Characters/Languages], March 28-29, 2009, Kobe University, Japan, pp. 51-54. Kinsui, S. (ed.) (2011) Yakuwarigo Kenkyu no Tenkai [Development of Role Language Research]. Tokyo: Kurosio Publisher. Kinsui, S. (2014) Kore mo Nihongo Aruka?: Ijin no Kotoba ga Umareru Toki [Is This Also Japanese?: When Aliens' Language Was Born]. Tokyo: Iwanami Publisher. Kinsui, S. (ed.) (2014) Yakuwarigo Shojiten [The Concise Dictionary of Role Language]. Tokyo: Kenkyusha. Kinsui, S., Tanaka, Y., and Okamuro, M. (eds.) (2014) Dorama to Hogen no !tarashii Kankei: "Kaneshon" kara "Yae no Sakura", Soshite "Ama-chan" e [A New Relationship between Dramas and Dialects: From "Carnation" to "Yae no Sakura", and "Ama­chan"]. Tokyo: Kasama Shoin. Lippi-Green, R. (1997) English with an Accent: Language, Ideology, and Discrimination in the United States. London: Routledge. Lippi-Green, R. (2012) English with an Accent: Language, Ideology, and Discrimination in the United States, second edition. Oxon: Routledge. Luther, C. A., Lepre, C. R. and Clark, N. (2012) Diversity in U.S. Mass Media. Malden: Willey-Blackwell. Nishida, T. (2011) "Yakuwarigo toshiteno tsundere hyogen. 'Joyosei' no umu ni chakumoku shite [Tsundere expressions as role language, focusing on circumstances of usage]." In: Kinsui, S. (ed.), pp. 265-78. O'Grady, W., Archbold, J., Aronoff, M., and Rees-Miller, J. (2005) Contemporary Linguistics: An Introduction, fifth edition. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin's. Sadanobu, T. (2011) "Kyarakuta wa bumpo o doko made kaeru noka? [How much does Modern Standard Japanese grammar vary in accordance with the speaker's "character"?]." In: Kinsui, S. (ed.), pp. 17-26. Teshigawara, M. and Kinsui, S. (2011) "Modern Japanese 'role language' (yakuwarigo): Fictional orality in Japanese literature and popular culture. Sociolinguistic Studies 5(1): 37-58. Togashi, J. (2011) "Tsundere zokusei niokeru gengo-hyogen no tokucho. Tsundere hyogen kesu sutadi [Properties of the tsundere character and their relationship to linguistic expression: A case study of tsundere expressions]." In: Kinsui, S. (ed.), pp. 279-95. OBSERVATIONS ON INTRA-NEBULAR KYARA AMONG YOUTH Fumiaki SENUMA Bunri University of Hospitality, Japan fumiakisenuma@hotmail.com Abstract This article summarizes the author's book (Senuma, 2007) on kyara in communication among young people in modern Japan, and subsequent research developments. Here, kyara refers to an intelligible, stereotypical abstraction, derived from a person's prominent traits. Among the young generation, individuals are sometimes assigned a specific kyara by others in their peer group, regardless of that individual's intentions. Accepting and performing that kyara can elevate the mood of the situation, and become the occasion for communication and humour. This is a benefit of kyaras, but they have disadvantages as well. For example, it may be burdensome to perform that kyara, they might not like the kyara assigned by their friends, or they may be troubled by the disconnect between kyara and self. If kyara-based teasing turns into bullying, this can be a source of suffering for youths as well. The above trends have escalated since the publication of Senuma (2007). Situations in which young people should perform kyaras around their friends have increased. Moreover, the younger generation must increasingly use different kyara for different situations due to the popularization of smartphones and the ubiquity of various social networking sites. This "situational use of different selves" is contrary to the identity theory, which posits that people build a consistent self during adolescence. Human relationships and types of friendship are inherently varied, but to the young, fear of losing friends takes precedence, so they perform kyaras to fit in with their friends. If they become too accustomed to performing these kyaras, their innate right to change within their relationships to others could be stripped away by the group dynamic. Keywords: kyara (the role); Japanese youth; fitting into society; multiple kyaras Povzetek Članek povzema avtorjevo knjigo (Senuma, 2007) o t.i. kyara ali vlogah v komunikaciji med mladostniki in sedanji Japonski družbi ter o razvoju raziskav po njeni publikaciji/ V članku se kyara nanaša na jasno stereotipično abstrakcijo, ki naj bi izhajala iz najbolj izstopajočih značilnosti neke osebe/ Mladostniki posamezniku v svojem krogu določijo neko vlogo ne glede na posameznikove namere v tistem krogu. S sprejetjem in izvajanjem dodeljene vloge posameznik izboljša vzdušje med vrstniki in spodbudi medsebojno komunikacijo ter humor. To so zagotovo prednosti igranja vlog, vendar pa ima takšno vedenje tudi slabe plati/ Na primer, nekaterim posameznikom je lahko igranje dodeljene vloge v breme, nekateri pa ne najdejo povezave med Acta Linguistica Asiatica, 5(2), 2015. ISSN: 2232-3317, http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ DOI: 10.4312/ala.5.2.43-50 vlogo, ki jo igrajo, in med dejanskim sabo/ Poleg tega lahko posmeh, ki ga je deležen posameznik ob igranju neke vloge, preide v psihično nadlegovanje/ Pojavnost zgoraj omenjenih značilnosti se je po publikaciji avtorjeve knjige še močno povečala/ Situacije, v katerih so posamezniki primorani igrati dodeljene vloge, so se pomnožile/ Še več, mlajše generacije so s širjenjem pametnih telefonov in z uporabo številnih spletnih socialnih omrežij primorane igrati tudi več različnih vlog hkrati/ Takšna situacijska raba različnih vlog samega sebe je v nasprotju s teorijo identitete, ki zagovarja tezo, da se karakter osebe izoblikuje v najstniških letih/ Človeški odnosi in prijateljstva so že v osnovi zelo raznolika in mladi v strahu pred izgubo kakšnega ustvarjenega prijateljstva igrajo različne vloge, takšne, ki ustrezajo pričakovanjem posameznega prijatelja/ S tem, ko posameznik zaradi družbe preveč prevzame igranje vlog, izgubi notranji občutek o pravici do svobodnega obnašanja/ Ključne besede: kyara (lik, vloga); japonska mladina; prilagajanje družbi-mnogotere vloge Introduction This article summarizes the author's book (Senuma, 2007) on kyara in communication among young people in modern Japan, and its subsequent research developments. At Japanese schools, rather than speaking to just anyone, students tend to belong to small, closed groups of 2 to 4, and communicate exclusively within those groups. The sociologist Shinji Miyadai called this trend, which began in the 80s, "nebularization" (Miyadai, 1994). The title of this article derives from Miyadai's idea. In the author's early 20s, the author was working as a comedian for the largest entertainment producer in Japan. The dogma of that time in the entertainment industry was that one could appear on television frequently as long as one created a unique kyara. Although the author desperately searched for his own kyara, he came up against various limits and ended up quitting the entertainment business. While working in entertainment, the author was also conscious of kyara in everyday communication with the author's non-entertainer friends at the university. After graduation from university the author entered a graduate school to research humor. Actively engaging in youth communication to do his research, he found out that kyara-mediated communication and relationships have become even more pervasive than when the author had been working as an entertainer. For his master's thesis the author performed fieldwork on kyaras among young people1 and organized the results into a research paper. Later, the author rewrote his thesis and in 2007 published a book named Kyararon or "Character theory". 1 The fieldwork referred to here is an interview survey on kyaras conducted in September and October 2005 for the author's master's thesis, "Kyara to iu Na no Kosei" (characteristics of the label kyara). The survey subjects consisted of 95 people in 28 groups, male and female, aged 15 to 25, in Tokyo and its suburbs. Kyararon is based on this survey. In this article, the author will firstly re-organize and summarize Kyararon based on his experiences and position. Then, the author will consider youth kyara trends since the publication of Kyararon, and point out some problems involved. The word kyara has various meanings, however, the author will in this article only focus on those observed in human relationships among small groups of the younger generation, like those described in Kyararon. Synopsis of Kyararon The word kyara, as examined in Kyararon, has been in use among young people from around 1999 onward and referred to one's own and one's peers' personalities and characters within a school setting; e.g. the "scatterbrained kyara", who often leaves out important details when speaking, the "serious kyara," whose words and actions are always deliberate, and the "poisoned-tongue kyara", who often speaks ill of others. Kyararon considers kyara in terms of the relationship between "stereotypes," "roles," "performance," and "individuality." This will be explained below in summary. First, in the opinions of the youths themselves, a kyara is an intelligible, stereotypical abstraction, derived from a person's prominent traits. Young people derive their own and their friends' kyaras from physical characteristics, appearance, clothing, personality, abilities, and manner of speaking. However, most of them say that they themselves do not know their own kyaras. Mori's (2005, p. 89) thoughts on kyara and role are of reference here. He points out that kyaras function as "roles" or "typecasts" within groups, and constitute a division of roles/labor enabling the members to spend time together enjoyably. In the author's own fieldwork as well, it was clear that among the younger generation, accepting and performing a kyara can elevate the mood, become the occasion for communication, and create humor. A kyara is a label assigned to individuals by others in their peer group, regardless of that individual's intentions. As this label is obstinate once affixed, the individual must behave in compliance with it, even if he/she does not like it. In other words, there is a performative component to kyaras. However, some individuals are not aware of this. Doi's (2004, p. 2009) ideas on kyara and personal qualities are useful here. According to him, a kyara is not a personal quality that one discovers by comparing oneself to others, nor some kind of internal selfness that one searches for like a diamond. Rather, he says, kyaras are conferred by others, they must not be redundant within the same peer group, and are composed of minute differences with others. That is, among the young subjects studied, a kyara is a tool for elevating the mood and creating humor enjoyed by all, while simultaneously being a safe space for the self and defense mechanism against teasing. Although kyaras have the above benefits, they clearly have downsides as well. For example, the youths may feel it burdensome to perform their kyaras. They might not like the kyara assigned by their friends, or be troubled by the disconnect between kyara and self. It was also found that kyara-based teasing can turn into bullying and be a source of suffering for them as well. When excessive acting becomes normal: relationships among the young Having looked at the reality of kyaras among youths, we will next discuss developments since Kyararon was published in 2007. To sum up the author's conclusions, now as before the younger generation is conscious of kyaras, and their communication is predicated on them. The good and bad aspects the author discussed in 2007 are as present as ever. The basis for saying this comes from Chishima/Murakami (2015). They performed empirical psychological research on youths to clarify the actual state of and attitudes toward kyaras. Furthermore, the author also found these trends in the author's own participant observations, fieldwork, and casual conversations with students. If there has been a change in youth kyara awareness since then, it would be that the performance of kyaras is becoming increasingly normal. For instance, in the survey conducted every few years by the Japan Youth Study Group, the number of youths who responded affirmatively when asked if they "consciously use a different self depending on the situation" increased from 43.2% in 2002 to 49.5% in 20122 . Another study worth noting is the survey on "reading the [social] atmosphere" (kuuki wo yomu) conducted by the National Federation of University Co-operative Associations (National Federation of University Co-operative Associations, 2008, p. 53). When asked whether they felt worried about reading the social atmosphere around them, 81% of male and 85% of female participants responded that they were "worried" or "somewhat worried". Of course, the "atmosphere" which these youths are worried about contains diverse elements. Even so, considering how they non-assertively try to fit in with those around them, the act of showing their true selves could be interpreted by their friends as an inability to read the atmosphere. If that is the case, this survey data indicates that large numbers of young people are conscious of acting for the benefit of those around them. In the Warai ni Kansuru Anketo Chosa ("Questionnaire on humor" in English) that the author conducted in 2015, there was a question of whether they laugh to be polite, or force themselves to laugh in daily life. The author asked university students 2 This questionnaire was conducted in Tokyo and Kobe, and administered to a 2-strata randomized sample, ages 30 to 49, chosen from the Basic Resident Register. 4200 questionnaires were distributed with a response rate of 1050 for aged 16 to 29, and 719 for aged 30 to 49. http://jysg.jp/img/flash20130724.pdf (Last accessed October 31, 2015) to select a number from 1 to 43as their answer; 68% answered with 3 or 4, which were affirmative answers. Moreover, when asked whether they ever pretend to enjoy a friend's joke to avoid ruining the mood, 59.2% responded affirmatively, with 3 or 4. These results show that rather than being their "natural selves," university students try to fit in with those around them. Harada (2010), who works for an advertising agency and researches youths from the perspective of marketing, has formulated nine the so-called "rules" for groups of young people based on his extensive fieldwork. For example, they should produce polite laughter, encourage downtrodden locals, and use "da yo ne" (used to indicate or elicit agreement) in conversation. Breaking these rules could make one get expelled from the group and ostracized. The existence of such rules strongly indicates an attitude of wanting to fit in with others. Judging by these survey results and opinions, it would seem that there is an increasing number of occasions in which youth must play a kyara among their friends4. Author's concern about it is that if acting becomes extremely de rigueur in daily life, it will become the new "natural." Human relationships and types of friendship are inherently varied, and the freedom to change oneself in the context of one's relationship to others is a universal right. But to the young, fear of losing friends takes precedence, so they perform kyaras to fit in. If they become too accustomed to performing their kyaras, their innate human right to change within their relationships to others could be stripped away by the group dynamic. The proliferation of situational kyaras Now the author will discuss another thing that has changed since Kyararon. As a reference the author will use Dentsu Inc.'s "Wakamono Maruwakari Chosa 2015" (Engl. "A comprehensive survey of young people")5 . According to this survey, the younger generation uses many selves depending on the situation; the average 3 This survey was conducted in January 2015 together with Hiroyuki Aoto from the Bukkyo University's Department of Education. The survey contained 43 questions on humor to 206 male and female university students from the Kanto and Kansai regions. The students selected the number of the answer on a scale of 1 ("never") to 4 ("often") that best applied to them. 4 Doi (2014: 71) has raised this point as well. He argues that the soto-kyaras (external kyaras) that people perform to fulfill the expectations of others are expelling their simpler, individualistic uchi­kyaras (internal kyaras), and that the era of self-searching has passed, while the pursuit of friends has become the mainstream. 5 Dentsu Inc. "Wakamono Maruwakari Chosa 2015". http://www.dentsu.co.jp/news/release/pdf­cms/2015038-0420.pdf (Last accessed September 8, 2015) This was a survey of youth values and communication awareness, conducted on the Web in February 2015 and administered to 3000 male and female youths (unmarried, high school students and older; ages 15 to 29) from the Kanto, Kansai, and Tokai regions. numbers of kyaras used in daily life are as follows: 5.7 for high school students (male: 4.9, female: 6.6), 5.0 for university students (male: 4.2, female: 5.8), and 4.0 for working adults in their twenties (male: 3.2, female: 4.8). The context for this is the popularization of smartphones and concurrent ubiquity of various social networking sites among young people. For example, they feel connected with other students on Facebook, Twitter, etc. even if they're not physically in the same school. Once a friend, it is easy to stay connected and at the same time difficult to break the connection. So perhaps the number of kyaras each person has is equal to the number of human relationships that he or she has built. With regards to Twitter, according to the same Dentsu Inc. survey, high school students have an average of 3.1 Twitter accounts, while university students have 2.5. When I asked students at the university where I work about these multiple accounts, they responded that it was normal to have 2 or 3 accounts, each for tweeting with a different kyara. Some students had as many as 10 accounts, which they use situationally. These multiple accounts might be used, depending on the account, for complaining, tweeting about interests the user does not want to talk about with others, or even as joke accounts. Some students say they try to play the role of a good person on their main account. Thinking about this from the angle of kyaras, it seems they are using abusive kyaras, otaku kyaras, or good person kyaras depending on the situation. To the younger generation, each account on the Internet is another of their kyaras. Given the situation on the Web, one wonders exactly how many kyaras young people are using. There is quite a diversity of locations where they perform situational kyaras, e.g. among local and school peers, school clubs, friends, part-time work, cram schools, and prep schools. Added to these are multiple Twitter accounts, Facebook, and mobile games where they communicate by playing the "upstanding hero kyara", or the "weak and always in need of saving kyara," etc. Moreover, not a few young people regard kyaras as tactics to be deployed on certain occasions to fit the circumstances – e.g. one kyara for the first date, another for a job interview, etc. Considering this, one can see that they have a fairly large number of situational kyaras. Can we be certain that the situational use of multiple kyaras poses no problems whatsoever? Conclusion It appears that this "situational use of different selves" is contrary to identity theory, which posits that people build a consistent self during adolescence. A question whether there are no problems with continually performing multiple selves evokes a theme that would demand some further thoughts from a variety of perspectives but this article will stop at the following three criticisms that are limited to friendships among the young, based on the above ideas6 . 1. If youths use different selves depending on the group, there is a problem of which kyara they should prioritize when it is necessary to deal with two groups simultaneously. No matter which kyara is prioritized, at least one of the groups will feel uneasy that their friend's kyara is suddenly different from the usual. This different-from-usual otherness could cause trust problems. 2. If the situational use of other selves becomes excessive, there is a concern that young people will lose track of their own sense of self. If this happens, their own strengths and outstanding characteristics will always be dependent on others. In order to maintain self-confidence, they will forever have to fraternize with people who are in some way less capable than themselves. Such selective human relationships would likely inhibit their own potential. 3. Trying to fit in with others is, in a sense, a form of consideration. However, if youths are constantly distracted by the need to be considerate and feel the pressure to always fit in with others, they may lose the ability to make decisions for themselves. This cannot be called freedom. They will be forced to live their lives as "non-entities," always looking to others. Overcoming this third point is not an easy step. The reason for this is that there is a strong pressure to fit in and conform in Japanese society, as is often pointed out in Japanese cultural studies and illustrated concisely by the Japanese saying "the nail that sticks up gets hammered down." Put another way, this could probably be called a "village mentality" or "collectivism." This characteristic of "fitting in with others" can be read into every aspect of communication among the kyaras of the younger generation. But what are the commonalities and differences of Japanese culture and kyaras? If there are many commonalities, it is because today's youth has inherited a past culture. Considering this, the use of many situational selves is not entirely problematic. It can be seen as a tool, based on past culture, that the younger generation uses to survive in this current society, with its complex and troublesome human relationships. Skillfully adapting to the situation, they will probably find solutions to the problems raised in this article, too. Even so, the author strongly believes that engaging in a search for their own kyara, as the author did when working in the entertainment industry, would surely be of help to them in terms of their self-understanding and their way of thinking. 6 Asano (2013), a sociologist, has also pointed out these issues. He expansively considers the problems with the situational use of multiple selves in terms of economics, politics, and ethics. For this reason, the author has limited himself to specific problems from the perspective of the younger generation. References Asano, T. (2013). "Wakamono" towa dareka. Tokyo: Kawade Shobo Shinsha. Chishima, Y., & Murakami, T. (2015). Gendai seinen niokeru "kyara" o kaishita yuujinkankei no jittai to yuujinkankei manzokudo no kanren: "kyara" nitaisuru kangaekata o chuushinni. Seinen Shinrigaku Kenkyu, 26 (2), -. Doi, T. (2004). "Kosei" o aorareru kodomotachi: Shinmitsukenno hen'yo o kangaeru. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Doi, T. (2009). Kyara-ka suru/sareru kodomotachi: Haijogata shakai niokeru aratana ningenzou. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Doi, T. (2014). Tsunagario aorareru kodomotachi: Nettoizonto ijimemondaio kangaeru. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Harada, Y. (2010). Chikagorono wakamonowa naze damenanoka. Tokyo: Kobunsha. Miyadai, S. (1994). Seifuku shojotachino sentaku. Tokyo: Kodansha. National Federation of University Co-operative Associations in Japan. (2008). Campus Life Data 2007. Mori, S. (2008). Nihonwa naze isakaino ooi kunini nattanoka. Tokyo: Chuoukouronsha. Senuma, F. (2007). Kyararon. Tokyo: Studio Cello. THE JAPANESE LANGUAGE AND CHARACTER PARTICLES, AS SEEN IN DIALECT: CHARACTER PARTICLES AND SENTENCE-ENDING PARTICLES Kenji TOMOSADA Professor Emeritus Prefectural University of Hiroshima, Japan tomsad1127@gmail.com Abstract The article deals with the following three views and concludes that (1) the phenomenon in which a word related to the identity of the speaker (a sentence-ending particle with its origins in the first-person pronoun ["first-person sentence-ending particle" hereinafter]) appears after other sentence-ending particles may be observed in dialect; (2) the phenomenon in which a word related to the identity of the listener (a sentence-ending particle with its origins in the second-person pronoun ["second-person sentence-ending particle" hereinafter]) appears after other sentence-ending particles also may be observed in dialect; (3) the phenomenon of occurrence of the first-person sentence-ending particle at the end of the sentence has a different nature than the phenomenon of occurrence of the second-person sentence-ending particle at the end of the sentence. Keywords: sentence-ending particles; first-person sentence-ending particle; expressing his or her own view; second-person sentence-ending particle; a way of polite expression Povzetek Članek obravnava tri točke in zaključuje, da (1) je pojav, ob katerem se beseda, ki se nanaša na identiteto govorca (tj/ končniški stavčni členek z izvorom v zaimku 1/ osebe [spodaj kot 'stavčni členek v prvi osebi'\), pojavi po kakšnem drugem stavčnem členku, opažen v narečjih- (2) je pojav, ob katerem se beseda, ki se nanaša na identiteto slušatelja (tj/ končniški stavčni členek z izvorom v zaimku 2. osebe [spodaj kot 'stavčni členek v drugi osebi'\), pojavi po kakšnem drugem stavčnem členku, opažen v narečjih- (3) da je pojavnost zgoraj omenjenih dveh končniških stavčnih členkov različna/ Ključne besede: povedni zaključni členki; stavčni členek za prvo osebo; izražanje osebnega mnenja; stavčni členek za drugo osebo; izrazi spoštljivosti Acta Linguistica Asiatica, 5(2), 2015. ISSN: 2232-3317, http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ DOI: 10.4312/ala.5.2.51-60 Introduction This paper examines the relationship between character particles as proposed in character studies and sentence-ending particles in dialects, considered to have developed from personal expressions. Sadanobu (2005, p. 118) defines character particles as "particles that express the character one wants to convey." He provides the following example (hereinafter, the author has underlined the relevant part of each sentence). O-hisashi-buri desu. Kuri de gozaimasu puu. "It's been a long time. I'm sorry for not keeping in touch puu." He explains that puu, as used in the above example, "seems to be used to establish a noncombative, easy-going character" (Sadanobu, 2005, p. 120). Sadanobu (2007, p. 37) identifies the following three points concerning the conditions under which character particles may appear in a sentence to give "a fitting end to the sentence": 1. they are relatively less likely to appear in inverted sentences; 2. they are positioned even later than sentence-final particles; 3. they are relatively less likely to appear at the end of a clause within a sentence. Sentence-ending particles were proposed by Yoichi Fujiwara in a study of dialects. Fujiwara re-examined the particles usually called sentence-final particles in the light of the importance to Japanese expression at the end of the sentence, calling them "sentence-ending particles." The study attracted attention for its view that such sentence-ending particles have originally come from personal expressions, pointing out that a wa at the end of a sentence originally was a word referring to the speaker (watashi), indicating that he or she was expressing his or her own view. Fujiwara (1986, p. 211) gives examples including: Shiran wai. (I dunno.) In Kyushu dialect, this would be: Shirimasshen bai. In these sentences, wai and bai are in fact first-person pronouns. The wa used in an expression such as Iyada wa. ("Yuck!") also can be considered a first-person pronoun, since it belongs to the same family as wai. Similarly, while expressing some doubt as to whether the particle is in fact in the first person, Fujiwara (1986, p. 431) also cites the following sentence from a dialect in Ishikawa Prefecture: (1) Sonna mon kisesasshanna wa-. "Don't make me wear something like that!" He says of this example: 'Perhaps this use of wa-to express one's own opinion is, after all, a first-person wa sentence-ending particle. Other uses of wa, such as its usefulness in expressing commands, also may have developed naturally from this use of wa.' Fujiwara (1986, p. 431) Fujiwara (1986, p. 211) rejects the theory on the origin from the binding particle ha (pronounced like wa) as follows: 'I would like to point out one doubt about the theory on ha. Ha is affixed to substantives and secondary substantives. It often is treated as an indicator of the subject. Generally speaking, particles with such a function stress what follows. Wa as used in cases such as Iyada wa indicates something said with intensity. Its true nature (functional value) is this intensity of the expression, the opposite of stressing what follows. Perhaps ultimately wa comes from the first person.' The following example is from a dialect on the Matsushima Coast in Miyagi Prefecture. (2) O shin.ko ne-su ka.wa "Don't you have any oshinko?" (The indication of accents here differs from Fujiwara's. Fujiwara (1994, p. 238) argues that the tone of the sentence as well wa give a strong impression that the sentence has reached its conclusion, so that wa is unlikely to have come from ha since the former "is distinguished by the way it does not put any kind of stress on what is to come next." In this way, the part of speech appearing at the end of a sentence in standard Japanese has traditionally been considered a sentence-final particle, but today character studies make it clear that a word related to the identity of the speaker (a character particle) may appear even after the sentence-final particle. At the same time, the phenomenon in which a word related to the identity of the speaker (a sentence-ending particle with its origins in the first-person pronoun ["first-person sentence-ending particle", hereinafter]) and appears after other sentence-ending particles may be observed in dialects as well, and Sadanobu suggests a parallelism between the character particle and this first-person sentence-ending particle. Accordingly, this paper will begin with a consideration of how this first-person sentence-ending particle appears in dialects. The phenomenon in which a word related to the identity of the listener (a sentence-ending particle with its origins in the second-person pronoun ["second­person sentence-ending particle", hereinafter]) appears after other sentence-ending particles also may be observed in dialects. (3) O-shaberi bakari shimashite na-ta. "You sure did talk a lot"; Kumamoto Prefecture NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo Here na-ta is a compound of na-and anata ("you"). If we understand standard Japanese as permitting only a first-person particle to appear after the sentence-final particle, then it is conceivable that the phenomenon in which a first-person particle occurs positioned after the sentence-final particle, and the phenomenon in which a second-person particle occurs positioned after the sentence-final particle could differ fundamentally in their nature. If both are homogeneous, then it is hard to conceive that only one of them would occur (the phenomenon of occurrence of the first-person particle), while the other one (the phenomenon of occurrence of the second-person particle) would not. Accordingly, as our second point, we will consider the ways in which the second-person sentence-ending particle appears in dialects. Our third point will involve investigation of the distribution and usage of these phenomena and we will point out that the phenomenon of occurrence of the first-person sentence-ending particle at the end of the sentence in fact has a different nature than the phenomenon of occurrence of the second-person sentence-ending particle at the end of the sentence. Usage of the first-person sentence-ending particle First, let's look at some examples considering the distinctiveness of dialect in which such particles are positioned at the end of the sentence. (4) Do-ra hi ga heran uchi modoimoso wai. "Whatever the case, let's return before the sun goes down"; Kagoshima Prefecture (5) Arigato gozairimashite wai. "Thank you very much"; Ishikawa Prefecture (6) Unara ma-yokowasshai. Orya mo-inuru bai. "Well, good night. I'm going home too"; Saga Prefecture All three examples above are from NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo. (7) Honai i-mawaraidemo iku ware. OK, I've heard enough. I'll go"; said by a 16-year-old younger brother to his 23-year old elder sister; Tokushima Prefecture (From Fujiwara, 1986, p. 452) (8) Agekkara wa. "Here you go." (9) Nagete kunai wa. ("Throw it!") (All of the above examples are from the southeastern area of the Tohoku dialect zone (Fujiwara, 1969, p. 205)) While there also are examples of ore ("I") being positioned at the end of a sentence, it might be difficult to consider these to be examples of sentence-ending particles. (10) Cho-kite cho-chitemo-muridanbe ore. "I don't think I can make it today." (From NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo, Tochigi Prefecture) It is apparent that many cases show compound sentence-final particles in which a first-person sentence-ending particle is combined with some other sentence-ending particle, such as: Wai: wai na, wai no, wai ne, wai ya, etc. Wa: wan a, wa no-, wa no, wa ne, wa yo, etc. Bai: bai ta, ban ta, ba mai, etc. While wai and wa above form compound sentence-final particles when suffixed with na, no, ne, yo, or ya, the ta, nta, and mai suffixed to bai are variants of the second-person pronouns anta and omai. Next, let's look at the words other than first-person particles positioned after the sentence-ending particle. Fujiwara (1969, p. 213) states that while a compound form bai + X is possible, a compound sentence-ending particle X + bai is not. However, Fujiwara (1997, p. 484) also cites the following example from a dialect in Nagasaki Prefecture. (11) Sa-oremo sore shiran tobai. "Gee, I don't know either." Also, the NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo includes the following example from Fukuoka Prefecture. (12) m1 Batten miaidakea sake dashimasshen nabai. Na-miaintokya-sake dashimasshen bai. "But don't serve sake at a meeting with a view toward marriage. Remember, don't serve sake at a meeting with a view toward marriage." Does not this appear to be a case of X + bai? In addition to this one, examples such as the following can also be seen in the NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo: 1 'm' for male. (13) f2 Karaimo hottatoba chittobakkae yaro-kananta. "I'd like to give you a little souvenir. How about taking some of the yams we've dug up?" (14) m Un karaimonara itcho-moro-te ikokanobai. "Yes, I'd love to take a sweet potato with me"; Saga Prefecture Furthermore, although it does not include bai, the following example also fits the pattern. (15) Yanka kimonna itchomo motajattatoai. "I didn't even have a single long kimono" (NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo; Kumamoto Prefecture) There also are examples of a first-person sentence-ending particle positioned after another sentence-ending particle, as in this one from the dialect on the Matsushima coast of Miyagi Prefecture in Fujiwara (1994, p. 238). (16) Oshinko ne-su kawa. "Don't you have any oshinko?" Sadanobu (1986) also points out that wa and wai may appear after consecutive sentences, as in the following example. (16) Achi-na-. Honni yaren wa. "It's so hot. I truly can't stand it"; Okayama Prefecture Among the three points regarding the conditions under which character particles are likely to occur, the tendency to be relatively less likely to appear in inverted sentences can be said to wrok for first-person sentence-ending particles as well, and they also are relatively less likely to appear at the end of a clause within a sentence. Sadanobu (2007, p. 46) describes first-person sentence-ending particles and character particles in the following way. 'Perhaps a case of a word such as gohon ("ahem"), an extreme expression of the character of the speaker's utterance, at a position at the end of the sentence where it is grammatically easy to place a watashi expression may be considered to be a character particle.' Regarding the distribution of wai and wa, Fujiwara (1969, pp. 205–207) says: 'In general, people in the western half of Japan probably can be said to use "wai" widely. . . . From an overview of the distribution of wa we can see that, in contrast to wai, it is distributed more in the eastern part of the country. 2 'f' for female. However, although their distribution is largely split regionally, it is apparent that the first-person particles are used nationwide.' Usage of the second-person sentence-ending particle Now let's look at some examples where second-person particles are positioned at the end of a sentence. There are two usages, namely the a-ta and the nonta ("you"), in combination with suffix elements. (17) Konyawa a-ta. "Good evening"; Kumamoto Prefecture (18) A-ohayo-a-ta. "Oh, good morning you."; Kumamoto Prefecture (19) f I-e-a-ta kotchikoso gobure-shi mashite "No, you my fault." (20) m So-asakarubatten kya-yo-kana-a-ta. Kumamoto Prefecture (21) Mo-sunde shimo-ta kotsujara nta. "That's all in the past"; Oita Prefecture (22) O-shaberi bakari shimashite na-ta. "You sure did talk a lot"; Kumamoto Prefecture (23) Sanju-guraini narimasuga nonta. "He's about 30 years old"; Yamaguchi Prefecture Na-ta probably comes from na-+ anata, while nonta probably comes from no-+ anata. There are various ways in which a second-person sentence-ending particle can become a suffix element in a compound form: na-anta no-anta ne-ta kaia-ta na-ata no-ata kaita na-nta no-an kanta nanta no-nata taita naeta no-nta tanta na-ta nonta banta nata noita no-ta namai no-mai nomai kamai bamai Each of the above is a case of suffixing by a second-person particle. Fujiwara (1969, pp. 481–483) also describes a case of anta + na-. (24) Atsui antana-. "It's hot you-" (Buzen) (25) Mukashi ha tanokusa wo shihen torimashitagaantana-. "We used to pull out weeds in rice field four times you-" (Minamikawachi-gun, Osaka Prefecture) Second-person particles also are used as interjections. (26) m A-ma-mai omaemo mai rakuna mijan mai buraburashitorya e-njashino­"Ah, well, you should dress casually too. Take it easy"; from the NHK Zenkoku Hogen Shiryo; Mie Prefecture Distribution of first-person sentence-ending particles and second-person sentence-ending particles Fujiwara (1986, p. 497) notes that 'In sum, first-person particles such as "wa" and "wai" are used widely in dialect across the country, . . . while second-person particles are less widely used outside some accents in Kyushu dialect.' If, as Fujiwara argues, first-person particles are used by 'the speaker to make a point, expressing his or her own point of view to the listener', then they would appear to be unrelated to regional characteristics. On the other hand, the use of second-person particles is thought to be representative for Kyushu dialect. However, Fujiwara (1969, p. 196) notes that the use of a-ta in the following example gives the sentence a medium or higher level of politeness: (27) Konyawa a-ta. "Good evening"; Kyushu In this way, could not the use of a second-person particle be taken as being dependent on the degree of politeness of the expression? If so, there would only be one method of polite expression in certain regions centered in the Kyushu dialect, and Fujiwara (1969, p. 497) describes it as follows: 'From the general possibility of use of statements such as ne-anata, it is conceivable that second-person sentence-ending particles could be more widely used in dialect. However, that is not in fact the case. Perhaps this implies that people prefer to use sentence-ending particles belonging to the watashi family when expressing themselves to others in sentence form. (Perhaps use of watashi sentence-ending particles is a natural development.) However, Fujiwara (1986, p. 379) also says the following about forming sentence-ending particles from personal pronouns: 'We can understand the formation of sentence-ending particles from second-person personal pronouns as being the most natural occurrence since those words are used to call others. But why form sentence-ending particles from first-person personal pronouns? If we think about it, this too is natural. The speaker is attempting to express him or herself. He or she is attempting to present his or her own point of view to the other party. Is it not the case that even when using a second-person personal pronoun, ultimately the speaker is calling the other party with anata or a similar word, expressing his or her own (the speaker's) point of view?' Conclusion From the above we could conclude that the sentence-ending particles wa, wai, and bai, which have their origins in first-person pronouns but differ in regions of their distribution, are used across Japan when a speaker attempts to present his or her own point of view to the listener. Also, the use of such sentence-ending particles shows some similarities with the way a character particle embodies the character the speaker wants to convey, and that both may appear positioned after the sentence-final particle (another sentence-ending particle). In this way, we have identified the relationship between these two types of particles. At the same time, the sentence-ending particles with origins in second-person pronouns, observed in dialects, differ in their nature in that they are a way of polite expression used in regions centered on Kyushu. Still, as Fujiwara (1986, p. 379) says, 'ultimately the speaker is calling the other party with anata or a similar word, expressing his or her own (the speaker's) point of view'. References Kambe, H. (1975). Oki hogen no bunpyogenjo no 'wa' rui bunmatsushi ('Wa'-type sentence-ending particles in sentence expression in Oki dialect), Kokubun gakuko, no. 66. Sadanobu, T. (2005). Sasayaku koibito, rikimu repota: kuchi no naka no bunka (Whispering lovers, boastful reporters: the culture of speech), Iwanami Shoten. Sadanobu, T. (2007). Kyarajoshi ga arawareru kankyo (Conditions under which character particles appear), in Yakuwarigokenkyu no chihei, Kurosio Publishers. Sadanobu, T. (2011). Kyarakuta ha bunpo wo doko made kaeru ka (To what degree do characters change grammar), in Yakuwarigokenkyu no chihei, Kurosio Publishers. Sadanobu, T. (2012). Nihongo shakai no nozoki kyarakuri (A look at the social conditions of the Japanese language through characters), Sanseido. Sato, T. (1977). Hogen bunmatsushi no kijutu: Mie-ken Suzuka-shi Ejima-cho hogen no bunmatsushi (An account of sentence-ending particles in dialect: sentence-ending particles in the dialect of Ejima-cho, Suzuka, Mie Prefecture), in Hogen kenkyu sosho, vol. 7, Miyaishoten. Tomosada, K. (1986). Okayama-ken hogen no kenkyu: bunmatsushi wa/wai nit suite (A study of Okayama Prefecture dialect: the sentence-ending particles wa and wai), in Kokugo hogen kenkyu, no. 3. Noma, J. (2011). Osaka hogen no bunmatsushi de to wa (The sentence-ending particles de and wa in Osaka dialect), Osaka shakaigengogaku kenkyu noto 9. Fujiwara, Y. (1969). Nihongo hogen bunpo no sekai (The world of grammar in Japanese dialect), Hanawashobo. Fujiwara, Y. (1986). Hogen bunmatsushi (bunmatsujoshi) no kenkyu (ge) (A study of sentence-ending particles in dialect [vol. 2]), Shunyodo Publishing. Fujiwara, Y. (1994). Bunpogaku (Grammar studies), Musashinoshoin. Fujiwara, Y. (1997). Nihongo hogen jisho: geken (Dictionary of Japanese dialect [vol. 3]), Tokyodo. JAPANESE LANGUAGE AND "CHARACTERS": FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF TEACHING JAPANESE AS A FOREIGN LANGUAGE SHUKURI Yukiko Toyo International Culture Academy, Japan shi9ri@hotmail.com Abstract This paper introduces current status of "role language" and the "speaker's character" and their applications in Japanese teaching materials. Besides it studies the knowledge of Russian learners of Japanese and carefully examines their knowledge of four typical kinds of "role language" in Japanese anime and manga by using a questionnaire and follow-up interviews. From the results of the textbook research, the following two things are revealed; (a) first person pronouns except for watashi are rarely used, (b) there is not enough explanations about different "speaker's characters" in detail. Furthermore, findings of the questionnaire show that some of the learners who have the same impression of the characters as Japanese native speakers, wrongly connect a certain "role language" to illustrations of a character, and results of as much as three kinds of "role language" have a low positive correlation with the learners' results of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test. Results also reveal that all four kinds of "role language" have no correlation with other factors, such as student's duration of learning Japanese, or frequency of the use of Japanese outside the classroom. Keywords: Japanese learners; role language; speaker's character; first person pronouns; sentence ending expressions Povzetek Raziskava razsvetljuje trenutno stanje raziskav o "jeziku vlog" in "govorčevemu liku" ter njuni uporabi v učnem materialu za učenje japonskega jezika/ Poleg tega obravnava ruske učence japonskega jezika, in preko vprašalnika ter sledilnih intervjujev ocenjuje njihovo poznavanje štirih tipičnih "vlog jezika" v japonskih animejih in mangah/ Rezultati raziskave o učnem materialu podajajo dva zaključka­ (a) osebni zaimki v prvi osebi, z izjemo watashi, so zelo redki, in (b) v splošnem ni dovolj razlag o različnih "likih, ki jih predstavljajo govorci"/ Obenem rezultati vprašalnika razkrijejo, da nekateri ruski učenci, ki izkazujejo enak vtis o likih kot njihovi japonski kolegi, napačno povezujejo jezik določene vloge z ustreznimi ilustracijami tistega lika. Tako imajo rezultati treh tipov "jezika vlog" statistično nizko pozitivno korelacijo z učenčevimi rezultati na preizkusu znanja japonskega jezika/ Nenazadnje rezultati kažejo tudi na to, da prepoznavanje štirih tipov "jezika vlog" ni odvisno od trajanja učenja japonskega jezika niti ne od uporabe japonščine izven študijskega programa. Ključne besede: učenci japonščine- jezik vlog; govorčev lik; osebni zaimki v prvi osebi; izrazi na koncu stavka Acta Linguistica Asiatica, 5(2), 2015. ISSN: 2232-3317, http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/ala/ DOI: 10.4312/ala.5.2.61-68 Introduction In Japanese, it is possible to make a variety of sentences expressing the same meaning by changing either the first person pronoun used in them or the expression at the end such sentences. For example, in Japanese anime and manga, a cat is said to speak in a "cat language," or and an old professor speaks in an "old professor's language," by just adding an expression to the end of the sentence. For example, adding "0meow" or "0ja" to the end of sentences changes the sentence to "I am a cat, meow" or "I am an old professor ja." The Japanese native speakers can recognize the speaker and imagine what kind of a person (or an animal or an alien) the speaker is, through the first person pronouns or the expressions at the end of the sentence. Kinsui (2003, p. 205) calls this specific use of wordings that are closely related with the characteristics of the speakers and help listeners to imagine the speakers "role language". Sadanobu (2011, p. 116) further talks about "speaker's character" concerning those characters or people who talk using "role language". "Role language" can be found not only in Japanese anime and manga, but also in novels, TV drama series, and even in a Japanese daily conversation. When teaching Japanese language in the Russian Novosibirsk, it is not rare that Japanese learners speak using "role language" from anime and manga, or they ask teachers about "role language" (Sadanobu et al., 2013, p. 281), however, "role language" is not taught in Japanese courses around Russia. For that reason, improper uses of "role language" by learners sometimes causes uncomfortable or unpleasant feelings for native Japanese speakers. For example, some Russian teachers of Japanese language (NNT) always write Maido arigatou gozaimasu. or "Thank you every time." at the end of an e-mail just like a shopkeeper. Some students sometimes say to me Ohairi. ("Come in.") without kudasai ("please."). It sounds like something a Queen would say. One of the students who uses Ohairi. said that she had heard the expression somewhere before and used it but had no intention to speak like a Queen. This can be regarded as an example that the speaker unintentionally spoke a "role language" which she learned through anime or manga. She was then looked at as a Queen, which is a different "speaker's character" then her own. To reduce these kind of mistakes, Japanese language teachers in Novosibirsk, including the author, launched a research project about "role language" and the many different "speaker's characters". The members of this research project think that it is necessary to teach explicitly about "role language" and "speaker's characters" from the beginner stages of Japanese teaching in Russia. In this paper, the author summarized the current situation of "role language" and the various "speaker's characters" in Japanese language teaching materials. Furthermore, the author introduced some of the results of the research project. Current situation of "role language" and "speaker's character" in Japanese teaching materials It is not difficult to find Japanese teaching materials that were developed based on the importance of "role language" and the "speaker's character." An e-learning site by the Japan Foundation Kansai International Center called "Japanese Anime & Manga" is a typical example of information about "role language" and the "speaker's character" in anime and manga. From this site, visitors can learn about "role language" such as basic greetings, grammar, alias, and pronunciation changes of the typical eight characters from anime and manga, "boy", "girl", "scrapper", "samurai", "old man", "lady", "butler", and "osakan" with voices by actors (Kumano & Kawashima, 2011, pp. 112—113). The Japan Foundation (2013) reported that the annual amount of access to this page was about 3.13 million views and the amount of total access from 2009 was 10.97 million. A Japanese textbook series "Character's Conversation" by Kai Japanese Language School is a good example of materials about more realistic "role language" and "speaker's characters" other than those from anime and manga. In this series, conversation of seven main characters, who were personified from five modes on the basis of transactional analysis, such as "controlling parent", "nurturing parent", "adult", "natural child", and "adapted child", is introduced. Transactional analysis is a kind of psychological theory, which has been applied as an effective tool for interpersonal communication training in educational institutions and companies (Matsuo & Yamamoto, 2008). At Kai Japanese Language School, this series is used in elementary classes for learners studying Japanese for less than four months, with aims such as "being able to tell their own feelings well", "being able to speak feelings like they were their own", and "being able to produce what they want to show by adjusting their speech style to the scene or role (Matsuo et al., 2006). Matsuo et al. also cited some learners' comments such as "Thanks to this class, I know that various people speak by using various speech styles". On the other hand, "role language", which is rarely used in natural conversation, has more often been published as a conversation example in textbooks on a higher level. Mizumoto et al. (2009) reported on their investigation of the actual use of female expressions used at the end of sentences such as