You can tell when translators are truly bi-cultural because Japanese-Americans translate J-drama subtitles using four-letter words, even though they don’t appear anywhere in the script. Many a foreign teenager has scoured their bilingual dictionary for the equivalents of “sh*t” and “f*ck,” only to be met with gales of laughter when they fling the Japanese words for “Feces!” and “Copulate!” at their tormenters.
So, what gives? Do Japanese people never feel the urge to hurl an epithet? Is there some ironclad social taboo against it? Are they just too polite to swear? Or do they just use swear words that aren’t in the dictionary?
That last theory comes the closest, but the answer is no, no, no and no. People are people all over the world—no matter what their culture or beliefs—and the urge to memorably snap back in anger or intimidate others with shocking words is a universal, lizard-brain-level, human response.
Japanese people do swear, they just don’t use words. They use grammar.
Yes, grammar. Because that famed Japanese “politeness” is actually how Japanese society enforces a rigid social hierarchy. One of the reasons Japanese is a hard language for Westerners to learn is because you can’t compose a sentence without assessing who you’re talking to, and deciding whether they’re above you or below you. Purposely getting that wrong is taken as a grave insult—whether it be addressing a superior as though they were a child, or sneeringly elevating a subordinate to lordly heights.
Age, position and personal relationship all figure into this calculation. Because if someone is older, more famous, has been at the company longer, is not related by blood, or is in any one of a million ways superior to you, you must use honorific words and deferential grammar when referring to them, while simultaneously using I’m not-worthy words and grammar when referring to yourself.
I used to be shocked when the second question out of a new acquaintance’s mouth after being introduced was, “How old are you?” What the holy heck? I finally figured out that they weren’t being cluelessly rude, they were just trying to figure out what verbs to use. But…that’s not just a pain in the butt to do (especially after you’ve had a beer or two), it enforces the distance between people. My aim has always been to become friendly with people on speedy American time, not glacial Japanese time, so I learned to deflect that question with a shocked face and say, “Ahaha, in my country we never ask a woman her age! And you know—because I’m an inept foreigner—using keigo is hard <sad panda face> so would it be okay if we just spoke as equals?” Miraculously, this also resulted in us becoming friends faster because we were already speaking as though we were.
Besides enforcing distance between people, this honorific-humble word dance also results in some very convoluted practices. For example, wedding, funeral and death anniversary invitations will come addressed to the equivalent of “Her Highness, Jonelle,” and the reply card will invite you to fill in the blank with your name to tell them if you’re coming (or not). But before you send it back, you have to cross out the printed “Queen of Everything” suffix after your own name, so as to be properly humble, and replace the host’s lowly name suffix on the printed envelope address with the character elevating them to royalty.
And you thought remembering not to come back to the dinner table wearing the toilet slippers was hard!
•For for
•
If you enjoyed this, subscribe! It’s free!
Would you like to be whisked away to Japan, no matter where you are?
“The Samurai’s Octopus is a truly remarkable book, one that surprised and charmed me at every turn of the page…an enchanting, fascinating journey. You’re in for a treat.”
—James Ziskin, Anthony, Barry, and Macavity Award-winning author of the Ellie Stone mysteries
•
Click here for more The Thing I Learned Today posts
Jonelle Patrick writes novels set in Japan, and blogs at Only In Japan and The Tokyo Guide I Wish I’d Had
Japanagram 