The Power of Language — Defining CSOFT

The theme of CSOFT’s 2010 Worldwide Summit was “The Power of Language ”—something that, more than an amoebic catchphrase meant to imbue the event with meaning, really does have an application at our office and in the localization industry as a whole. But not in the way that you might think.

As a localization service provider, language is naturally something with which we are intimately involved. (Can I get a “Duh” here, please?) In the case of our Summit, however, the focus was not on translation, transcreation, nor on multilingual terminology management. These topics, though apropos, are entirely too symptomatic in their approach improving best practices in the localization industry.

More germane to our internal processes at CSOFT is the idea that language, as a powerful phenomenon, has an immeasurably huge effect on company culture, production behavior, and how we work together. Specifically, as we work in an industry with a heavy emphasis on project management, the ways in which we define our roles, communicate, delegate, and interact with both clients and internal staff alike can make or break the quality of a localization project.

To drive this message home in an ancillary manner, our sneaky President and CEO, Shunee Yee, hosted an art exhibit during CSOFT’s annual Friday Night Party, in which she portrayed through her own private collection of art the lasting effect that language has had on Chinese culture, art, and society as a whole.

Language is a language is a language is art.

From the explanatory booklet that accompanied the exhibition:

Language defines who we are and how we see the world. More than a string of words woven together to express meaning and intent, language has the power to shape culture, end dynasties, coordinate the creation of wonders, and alter the course of history. It is the culmination of how we understand and interpret ourselves. As such, language itself is art.

Art, like language, speaks to us and informs our approach to life. And it is when art becomes intertwined with language that true expression and illumination evolve. The following collection of Chinese art demonstrates the powerful connection between language, art, and culture. From stone sculptures to watercolor paintings, the braided roots of language and culture in China are profoundly evident.

Interspersed with musical guqin and dance performances, as well as a tea ceremony to inspire quiet reflection, the exhibition itself was home to four different media of expression: Chinese calligraphy, traditional watercolor portraits,  oil paintings, and sculpture.

Most notably, the calligraphy collection (mostly the works of deceased masters) is what truly manifested the notion that language has the power to shape a nation and the culture of its people. Chinese characters are uniquely positioned to do this for several reasons. For one, owing to the pictographic and ideographic nature of many characters, there tends to be a more visceral reaction among Chinese people to the appearance of words and the nature of their etymology.

A Bit of Linguistic Mumbo-Jumbo

In English, for example, the root manu- comes from the Latin word for hand, and so the word manual refers to something done or operated by hand. Although the root of the word is clear, however, most people don’t have an innate response to its origin—it’s a conceptual connection, rather than a physical presence in the word itself.

In Chinese, on the other hand (no pun intended—I swear), the pictogram for hand will often appear as a radical within a more complex ideogram or phonetic compound that is related to, well, hands. The point of all this mumbo-jumbo is to say that, in my uninformed opinion, there is a more congenital connection between the written word and linguistic conceptualization in China than there is in the West. This imparts the language with power.

That, however, is a connection that I can’t objectively forge, nor is it a notion that would hold its scholastic water, given the right amount of scrutiny. There are, however, other forces at work that instill written Chinese with the power to shape Chinese culture.

That force is politics.

Imperial decrees in Ancient China

Calligraphy has long been associated with power in China. In imperial times, government officials did not hold public forums or deliver speeches to evoke the political cogency of a given law. Edicts and decrees were issued directly in writing, authenticated by the calligraphic style of the person in charge. So there were no hear ye, hear ye’s nor Gettysburg Addresses to speak of.

In a way, calligraphy defined the predominant character of China by setting a standard for development within the government. Back then, a scholar’s political development could be completely marred by a poor grasp of calligraphy, because his calligraphy was representative of himself, his beliefs, and his political loyalties. (My third-grade teacher used to rap my knuckles for bad cursive handwriting—and I thought that was unfair. Sheesh.) If a given scholar aligned his personal calligraphic style with the predominant style of the day, however, then he was making a deliberate effort to identify himself and his ideologies with those of the ruling class.

There are entire anthropological collections written on this topic, but for the sake of brevity: those in the ruling class defined the country, its education system, and art—and they did so through and with calligraphy. As stated previously, “Art, like language, speaks to us and informs our approach to life.” And that is precisely how Chinese calligraphy has, in a way, defined the face of the nation.

So how do we define ourselves?

According to western handwriting analysis, people who write with a rightward slant are outgoing and emotional. On the opposite side of the spectrum, those with more upright handwriting are said to have a logical approach to life. And then there are those who dot their i’s with hearts, who should be euthanized.

In any case, for CSOFT’s 2010 Worldwide Summit, Shunee Yee commissioned the artist Liu Yonggang to come up with a sculpture that defines us as an organization. Yonggang is world-renowned for his “Spatial Characters,” which are three-dimensional fusions of Mongolian and Chinese words. His figures are known for their physical manifestation of yin and yang, the Taoist concept of harmony between equal, interdependent, yet opposite parts of a whole.

This is a picture of Shunee, Liu Yonggang, the sculpture that he made for CSOFT, and somebody’s foot. According to the artist, this piece is reminiscent of the traditional Chinese character for horse (馬), with allusions to water (水), and it’s made of a dynamic material that reflects the world around it.

However that defines us—however you choose define us—is for you to decide. The Power of Language.