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Historical Phonology of Chinese

As an important introduction to the phonological history of Chinese, this title


explores the phonological systems of the Chinese language and explains basic
concepts, materials and methodologies.
Unlike many historical accounts, this book adopts a reverse chronological
sequence – starting with the phonology of Modern Mandarin and modern
Chinese dialects, then looking back on Early Mandarin and Middle Chinese, and
ultimately ending with Old Chinese phonology. This arrangement makes the book
reasonably approachable to both professionals and general readers, building up
knowledge along an ascending order of difficulty, from familiar, observable facts to
theoretical, speculative hypotheses. Based on the extant studies and two essential
types of rhyme materials, the book reconstructs the speech sounds of Middle and
Old Chinese, in terms of initials, finals and tones. It also analyses the transition and
evolution of phonological systems of the Chinese language in different periods.
Marking the beginning of historical Chinese phonological studies and drawing
on modern Western linguistics, this book will serve as an essential read for students
and researchers of Chinese language, Chinese linguistics and especially historical
Chinese phonology.

Dong Tonghe (1911–1963) was a leading linguist and historical Chinese


phonologist of China. In 1932, he was enrolled in the Department of Chinese of
Tsinghua University and learned historical Chinese phonology from Wang Li.
In 1937, he was admitted to the Institute of History and Philology of Academia
Sinica, working as assistant to the eminent Chinese linguist Yuen Ren Chao. In
1949, he was appointed as professor at the Department of Chinese Literature of
Taiwan University. Dong Tonghe had outstanding achievements in his main fields
of research, including Old Chinese phonology, Middle Chinese phonology, modern
Chinese dialects (with special focus on Min) and Austronesian languages.
China Perspectives

The China Perspectives series focuses on translating and publishing works by lead-
ing Chinese scholars, writing about both global topics and China-related themes. It
covers Humanities & Social Sciences, Education, Media and Psychology, as well
as many interdisciplinary themes.
This is the first time any of these books have been published in English for inter-
national readers. The series aims to put forward a Chinese perspective, give insights
into cutting-edge academic thinking in China, and inspire researchers globally.
To submit proposals, please contact the Taylor & Francis Publisher for the China
Publishing Programme, Lian Sun (Lian.Sun@informa.com)
Titles in linguistics currently include:

Modern Chinese Grammar IV


Special Forms and Europeanized Grammar
WANG Li

Singapore Mandarin Grammar I


Lu Jianming

Cognitive Neural Mechanism of Semantic Rhetoric


Qiaoyun Liao, Lijun Meng

Singapore Mandarin Grammar II


Lu Jianming

Automated Written Corrective Feedback in Research Paper Revision


The Good, The Bad, and The Missing
Qian Guo, Ruiling Feng, and Yuanfang Hua

The Chinese Rhyme Tables


Volume II
Pan Wenguo

For more information, please visit www.routledge.com/China-Perspectives/book-series/CPH


Historical Phonology of Chinese

Dong Tonghe
This book is published with financial support from Chinese Fund for the
Humanities and Social Sciences.
First published in English 2024
by Routledge
4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2024 Dong Tonghe
Translated by Wang Pin
The right of Dong Tonghe to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
English Version by permission of Zhonghua Book Company.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-1-032-53313-1 (hbk)


ISBN: 978-1-032-53314-8 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-003-41144-4 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003411444

Typeset in Times New Roman


by Apex CoVantage, LLC
Contents

List of Tables vii


Translator’s Preface ix
Foreword to the Chinese Edition  xi
by Yuen Ren Chao (趙元任)
Preface to the Chinese Edition xii

1 Introduction 1

2 Standard Mandarin Phonology 14

3 Modern Dialects 33

4 Early Mandarin 56

5 Qièyùn-based Rhyme Dictionaries 76

6 Graded Rhyme Charts 102

7 Middle Chinese Phonology 126

8 Simplification of Middle Chinese Initials and Finals 169

9 From Middle Chinese to Modern Chinese 198

10 Classification of Old Chinese Rhymes 223

11 Reconstruction of Old Chinese Finals 250


vi Contents

12 Old Chinese Initials 269

13 Issues of Old Chinese Tones 286

Appendix: A Brief Introduction to Speech Sounds 295


Index308
Tables

2.1 Consonants in Standard Mandarin 15


2.2 Monophthongs in Standard Mandarin 15
2.3 Initials in Standard Mandarin 18
2.4 Finals in Standard Mandarin 18
2.5 Tones in Standard Mandarin 20
2.6 Matches Between Initials and Finals in Standard Mandarin 21
3.1 Initials in the Suzhou Dialect 35
3.2 Finals in the Suzhou Dialect 37
3.3 Tones in the Suzhou Dialect 39
3.4 Initials in the Guangzhou Dialect 40
3.5 Finals in the Guangzhou Dialect 41
3.6 Tones in the Guangzhou Dialect 43
3.7 Initials in the Mei County Dialect 44
3.8 Finals in the Mei County Dialect 45
3.9 Tones in the Mei County Dialect 47
3.10 Initials in the Fuzhou Dialect 47
3.11 Finals in the Fuzhou Dialect 48
3.12 Tones in the Fuzhou Dialect 51
3.13 Initials in the Xiamen Dialect 51
3.14 Finals in the Xiamen Dialect 52
3.15 Tones in the Xiamen Dialect 55
4.1 Initials in the Zhōngyuán Yīnyùn 58
5.1 The 206 Rhymes in Four Tones in the Guǎngyùn 84
5.2 Classification of Lower Characters 93
6.1 Examples for the Thirty Initials 106
6.2 The Thirty-six Initials 107
6.3 Rhyme Tables of the Yùnjìng 112
6.4 Correspondence Between 博 bó/方 fāng Type Upper
Characters and 幫 bāng/非 fēi Group Initials 115
6.5 Third-grade Rhymes in Rhyme Charts 124
7.1 Labial Initials of Middle Chinese 127
7.2 Dental Plosive Initials of Middle Chinese 130
7.3 Dental Nasal Initial of Middle Chinese 131
viii Tables

7.4 Dental Affricate and Fricative Initials of Middle Chinese 132


7.5 Palatal and Postalveolar Initials of Middle Chinese 133
7.6 Velar and Glottal Initials of Middle Chinese 137
7.7 Initials 來 lái and 日 rì in Middle Chinese 141
7.8 Evolution of Middle Chinese Tones 167
8.1 Correspondences Between Pingshui Rhymes
and Guǎngyùn Rhymes 175
8.2 Classes of Initials in the Yùnhuì 181
9.1 Comparison of Initials Between Middle Chinese
and Standard Mandarin 200
9.2 Evolution of ‘Open’ Finals 205
9.3 Evolution of ‘Closed’ Finals 208
9.4 Evolution of Tones 220
10.1 Correspondences Between Gu Yanwu’s 10 Divisions of Old
Chinese Rhymes and the Guǎngyùn’s 206 Rhymes 228
10.2 Old Chinese Rhyme Divisions 248
A.1 Selected IPA Symbols 306
Translator’s Preface

The translation of Dong Tonghe’s Historical Phonology of Chinese, with financial


support from Chinese Fund for the Humanities and Social Sciences, is intended to
bring this classic work on the phonological history of Chinese to the accessibility
of the English readership. The Chinese original was first published in the 1950s
under a different title and expanded to the present form in the republication in the
1960s after the author’s death.
Doubtless, during the six decades after the book came out, substantial achieve-
ments have been made in the study of historical Chinese phonology, such as re-
construction of second-grade rhymes in Old Chinese, among many others, and
more materials have been put to use by historical Chinese phonologists, such as
the Mongolian transliteration of earlier Chinese. For all the remarkable progress,
Dong’s work by no means loses its importance or is seen as inferior. It continues to
serve effectively as a fundamental introduction to the field and be designated as a
must-read for related courses.
In the translation, I tried my utmost to maintain both the original ideational
meaning and the original textual format, including tabulation and annotation. All
Chinese characters used as examples in the text are followed by Romanisation in
Pinyin to indicate how they are pronounced in modern Standard Mandarin; for key
terms and concepts and titles of books and articles, I kept the Chinese characters
and added Pinyin and translation to provide maximum information; for names of
people, I put Chinese characters in parentheses after the Romanised form.
In each chapter, I also provided translator’s notes, either to give extra informa-
tion or to point out or rectify errors I suspected due to miscopy or misprint in the
original text. For those errors that I was quite certain about, I replaced them in the
text with corrected forms and offered explanations in translator’s notes; for those
problems caused by time and space (e.g. pronunciation of a character in current
Standard Mandarin that is different from the variety spoken by the author), I an-
notated them with ‘sic’ and made necessary clarifications.
This translation project could not have been accomplished without help from
others. I am deeply indebted to Prof. Randy LaPolla for proofreading my transla-
tion and providing a lot of useful information about issues discussed in the book
based on his critical reading of it. I am also grateful to Prof. Zhang Yulai and
Prof. Peng Xuanwei for their generous support for this project and to Prof. Pan
x Translator’s Preface

Wenguo, Prof. Zhang Shuzheng and Dr Edward McDonald for their valuable ad-
vice on translation. Moreover, I would like to thank the Zhonghua Book Company,
the publisher of the Chinese version, for placing trust in me as translator of this
prestigious book. My sincere gratitude goes to the rights director Ms Wang Ruiling
and staff members Ms Wang Ruiyu and Mr Zhang Meng of the Book Company and
Ms Sun Lian and Ms Feng Xiaoyin of the Taylor & Francis Group for their work to
make this publication possible.
Wang Pin
December 2022
Foreword to the Chinese
Edition by Yuen Ren Chao (趙元任
趙元任)

Once I thought that it would be good to ask Dong Tonghe (董同龢) to write a
few lines as preface for my own posthumous works. It had never occurred to me
to be writing for his. Dong had all along been modest and courteous – he always
addressed himself in his letters to me as ‘student’s student’ for the reason that,
at Tsinghua, he attended a lecture taught by Wang Liaoyi (王了一), whom I had
supervised on his thesis《兩粵音說》Liǎngyuè Yīnshuō ‘An Account of Speech
Sounds in the Two Yue Areas’. It is a long-held expectation that students should
surpass their masters; therefore, Dong’s《漢語音韻學》Hànyǔ Yīnyùn Xué ‘His-
torical Phonology of Chinese’ should be a culmination of historical Chinese pho-
nology studies of the two generations prior to his.
I am not giving mere remarks of courtesy. Wang Liaoyi shifted his research in-
terest to Chinese grammar; I myself turned to grammatical and general linguistic
issues after some research work on Chinese dialects; Tonghe, however, was making
sustained contributions over these years in historical Chinese phonology. I am not
saying he was no good at other areas – he was one of the most capable researchers
when we were working on Hubei dialects. However, he had papers on Old Chi-
nese and Middle Chinese speech sounds very early on. Once in Nanjing, Tong-
he’s criticism of Bernhard Karlgren’s arbitrary classification of rhymes in the《詩
經》Shījīng ‘Classic of Poetry’ even worked Karlgren up, but later he acknowl-
edged that the criticism was not entirely unreasonable. Under the trying circum-
stances during the Anti-Japanese War, Tonghe made the first major breakthrough in
tackling the 重紐 chóngniǔ ‘redundant syllable’ problem in the《廣韻》Guǎngyùn
‘Expanded Rhymes’, which had baffled many generations of scholars.
Later he spent his years in Taiwan. The linguistic conditions there offer many
‘virgin territories’. I do not need to cite examples since readers can see the meticu-
lousness in methodology and the copiousness of materials from this book. It is not
to pay all compliment to someone who is dead; however, how many more years do
we have to wait until another book of this kind comes out in Taiwan?
1965
Yuen Ren Chao
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Preface to the Chinese Edition

Ever since Westerners introduced their linguistics into China, there has been a re-
markable progress in the studies of ancient Chinese speech sounds. It can be safely
asserted that, over the last few decades, domestic and foreign scholars have made
academic achievements comparable to or even more than what had been accom-
plished by the numerous masters in the three hundred years of the Qing Dynasty.
We now have a broader vision, more abundant materials, more powerful toolsets
and more efficient methodologies. Therefore, we can progress our studies of an-
cient Chinese phonology from sound types to sound values. More importantly, we
are now able to save this discipline from the hopeless situation where no thorough
understanding could be attained even if one’s entire life were devoted to it.
Be that as it may, we are still short of an introductory textbook for beginners,
which should explicitly address these issues: What materials can be used to study
ancient Chinese speech sounds? What methods can be adopted? What achieve-
ments have been made thus far? During our stay in Sichuan, where we kept clear
of the Anti-Japanese War zones, I mentioned this to Li Fang-kuei (李方桂), who
agreed that such a textbook indeed needed to be soon written. Unfortunately, those
who were utterly devoted to research work had no extra time to write a textbook,
and those on teaching posts rarely did academic research.
Perhaps by a lucky chance, I could both continue working in Academia Sinica
and teach historical Chinese phonology at Taiwan University after arrival in Tai-
wan. I allowed myself no hesitation. With two years of teaching and compiling, this
long-lasting wish has finally been fulfilled.
When I sent the draft to Yuen Ren Chao and Li Fang-kuei for advice, they
seemed not disappointed at it. So I was very happy that this little textbook could
manage as an introduction to this field of study. I was also very happy that my stu-
dents regarded their learning with this textbook not as a futile effort although they
did find it an onerous task.
I would like to thank Prof. Xu Shiying (許世瑛) of Taiwan Provincial College
of Education, who gave me many useful pointers based on his teaching experience.
I would also like to thank my colleagues at Taiwan University, Mr Zhao Ronglang
(趙榮琅) and Ms Lan Yaxiu (藍亞秀), and student Qiao Wei (喬偉). They took
considerable pains to organise my manuscript despite their tight work schedule and
the sweltering summer.
Dong Tonghe
1 Introduction

§1.1 The course 聲韻學 Shēngyùn Xué ‘Study of Initials and Rhymes’ on the cur-
rent college curriculum is, as a matter of fact, a branch of study about the phono-
logical system of the Chinese language. In this light, we had better call it 漢語音
韻學 Hànyǔ Yīnyùn Xué ‘Historical Phonology of Chinese’. The ‘Chinese’ here
takes the narrow sense and refers to the language of the Han nationality;1 the study
of speech sound systems is generally known as phonology. Historical Phonology
of China is also a serviceable name, as less technically we tend to use ‘language of
China’ to mean ‘Chinese’.
Arguably, it is too general and unclear if we refer to this study as ‘phonology’ only.
The common name Shēngyùn Xué appeared relatively late, and it is the most in-
appropriate. The term was established because 聲韻 shēngyùn ‘initials and rhymes’
was felt to be sufficient to cover everything there was in ‘Historical Phonology of
Chinese’, as studies of Chinese speech sounds had always focused on so-called
聲 shēng ‘initial’ and 韻 yùn ‘rhyme’ of a syllable. This is actually a dubious ar-
gument. For one thing, analysis of speech sounds in terms of initials and rhymes
are not only applicable to Chinese, but to all monosyllabic languages. Therefore,
shēngyùn is nothing but vague. For another, there is another element in Chinese
and similar languages, i.e. tone, which is by no means less important than the initial
or rhyme in a syllable. However, it is not reflected in the term in question.
Then what exactly should historical phonology represent? Here are our answers:

(1)  The philological studies of Chinese have all along featured specialised stud-
ies of text interpretation, script and speech sound. The study of speech sounds
concerns the phonological system in different historical periods, including ini-
tials, rhymes and tones.
(2)  In modern linguistics, the study of speech sound system is known as ‘phonol-
ogy’, covering all aspects of speech sound, hence the propriety of our term
‘historical phonology’.

§1.2 The question why study historical phonology of Chinese is rather a question
of why study Chinese, as the historical phonology of Chinese is but one aspect of
Chinese studies in general.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003411444-1
2 Introduction

Whatever language we study, our aim is to understand the culture in which the
language takes its root. Those at home with literature are more sensitive to the re-
lationship between language and literature.
However, do we, as Chinese speakers, still need to study Chinese? The answer
is yes. The study of Chinese covers an extensive range. Some are aware of certain
linguistic facts, but without knowing why they are so; therefore, they need deeper
understanding of our language. Some others know barely anything about the lan-
guage and so have to study it from scratch.
Synchronically, Modern Chinese has a great number of dialects, some of which
are not even mutually intelligible; doesn’t this call for learning? In case of even
the widest spread Mandarin, ordinary users can speak and understand, but how
many can answer questions such as ‘What is the difference between 森 sēn and
生 shēng?’ and ‘Why is 老 lǎo in 老虎 lǎohǔ “tiger” different from 老 lǎo in 老人
lǎorén “old person”?’ An even smaller number of Mandarin speakers can explain
rhymes, metres, alliteration, or rhyming compound words in literary works. It is all
due to insufficient knowledge of the language.
Diachronically, we allege that we have a recorded history of five thousand years,
but we can trace it still further back. Our language keeps changing ever since our
ancestors started using it. Modern people could by no means talk with the ancients
even if they could meet. The Chinese characters we use change tremendously less
slow than does the language itself. It takes considerable training for us to under-
stand written works from 1,000 years ago (Tang and Song dynasties); those dating
1,500 years back (Han Dynasty and so-called ‘Six Dynasties’) required explana-
tory notes long ago; those from 2,000 years ago (the pre-Qin era) have caused
many disagreements despite numerous notes and comments; as for oracle bone
and bronzeware inscriptions from 2,500 years ago (Shang and Zhou dynasties),
decades of study would at best offer some grounds for reasonable conjecture.
From these facts we know how big the gap must be between ancient and modern
language. We can safely conclude that the Chinese language used by our forefa-
thers is as incomprehensible as any foreign language.
§1.3 We often find ancient poem lines rhyming awkwardly, such as the third
verse of 關雎 Guānjū in the《詩經》Shījīng ‘Classic of Poetry’:

參差荇菜 cēn cī xìng cài


左右采之 zuǒ yòu cǎi zhī
窈窕淑女 yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ
琴瑟友之 qín sè yǒu zhī

Scholars of the Shījīng say that 采 cǎi rhymes with 友 yǒu; however, their modern
pronunciation cǎi and yǒu differ markedly. This represents the great gap between
ancient and modern speech sound. Also we often find some text in ancient literature
difficult to understand, such as this sentence in the《左傳》Zuǒzhuàn:2

豕人立而啼 shǐ rén lì ér tí


Introduction 3

Those who understand it will tell us that 豕 shǐ means ‘pig’ (豬 zhū in modern
Chinese) and represents a difference between ancient and modern use of characters
(rather a difference in vocabulary). Moreover, 人立 rén lì means ‘stand like a hu-
man’, where 人 rén ‘human’ can function as an adverb in ancient Chinese. This
represents a difference between ancient and modern grammar.
From the two simple examples, we can see that study of language involves that
of sound, vocabulary and grammar. Among the three areas, sound is fundamental
as it provides elements for vocabulary and material for variations in grammar to
be realised.
The historical study of language is roughly comparable to ancient China’s
so-called 小學 xiǎoxué ‘minor studies’, which comprise three fields: studies of
script, sound and text. The study of script is now known as grammatology, the
study of sound is the historical phonology we discuss in this book, and the study
of text is actually interpretation of old vocabulary. The concept of grammar is
imported from the West, and scholars of the minor studies scarcely touched upon
grammatical issues.
In the minor studies, phonology serves as the basis for the other two subjects.
Around ninety percent of the over nine thousand characters recorded in the《說文
解字》Shuōwén Jiězì ‘Explaining Graphs and Analysing Characters’ are phono-
semantic compound characters. It is a historical phonological question as to why
the character 江 jiāng ‘big river’ takes 工 gōng as its phonetic component. Exegesis
relies much on studies of derivative cognates and phonetic loan characters, both
of which are based on similarity in sound. Duan Yucai (段玉裁), scholar of the
Qing Dynasty (1644–1911), stated that the understanding of historical phonology
leads to the understanding of the six categories of character classification, which in
turn leads to the understanding of classical texts. This comment amply expresses
the relationship between historical phonology studies and understanding of ancient
Chinese culture.
A prominent difference in the study of historical phonology of Chinese be-
tween past and present is that scholars of earlier generations put in much effort in
examining the course of change of historical materials, whereas modern scholars
focus on speech sounds themselves and give historical materials only simple,
necessary accounts. Moreover, earlier scholars put particular stress on ancient
times so that historical Chinese phonology is centred around ancient sounds.
However, influenced by Western linguistics, modern scholars are putting equal
emphasis on modern sounds; as a result, dialectology can be of great help for
us to understand ancient speech sounds besides its recognised contributions to
dialect studies.
§1.4 What modern people speak we can hear by ourselves. Therefore, the study
of modern speech sounds can rely easily on ready, live materials. Dialectological
scholars nowadays first learn some fundamental knowledge about the language,
then record data during their fieldwork, and finally sum up the system of the lan-
guage based on analysis and synthesis.
4 Introduction

The sounds of ancient people’s speech have vanished with them. Knowledge of
those sounds has to be inferred from written documents. Ancient Chinese materials
and their values are synopsised as follows:

(1)   Characters

It is a common saying that writing is the record of a language; however, no writing


is an impeccable record of any language. It is also no easy matter to tell what a writ-
ten character originally sounds like. Even phonograms give us considerable compli-
cations in investigating their ancient sounds, let alone Chinese characters such as the
pictographs 日 rì ‘sun’ and 月 yuè ‘moon’, the ideographs 上 shàng ‘up’ and 下 xià
‘down’, and the compound ideographs 武 wǔ ‘military’ (compounded of 止 zhǐ ‘stop’
and 戈 gē ‘dagger-axe’) and 公 gōng ‘public, official’ (compounded of 八 meaning
‘contrary’ and 厶 meaning ‘private’). Phono-semantic compound characters, formed
on the basis of sound, do account for the majority of Chinese characters, but this fact
cannot readily provide answers to the following important questions:
The phonetic component of 江 jiāng ‘big river’ is 工 gōng and that of 河 hé
‘river’ is 可 kě. How were 工 gōng and 可 kě pronounced in the ancient times?
Aren’t the phonetic components 工 gōng and 可 kě themselves derived from
ideograms?
In old times, did 江 jiāng sound like 工 gōng or 工 gong like 江 jiāng? Or did
both have another pronunciation?
In old times, did 江 jiāng and 工 gōng sound exactly alike, or just similarly? If
they sound just similarly, how similarly did they sound?
So based on phono-semantic compound characters we can only arrive sketchily
at some big categories of ancient speech sounds of Chinese.

(2)   Old rhymes

Here is the first poem in the Shījīng:

關關雎鳩 在河之州 窈窕淑女 君子好逑


guān guān jū jiū zài hé zhī zhōu yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ jūn zǐ hǎo qiú

參差荇菜 左右流之 窈窕淑女 寤寐求之


cēn cī xìng cài zuǒ yòu liú zhī yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ wù mèi qiú zhī

求之不得 寤寐思服 悠哉悠哉 輾轉反側


qiú zhī bù dé wù mèi sī fú yōu zāi yōu zāi zhǎn zhuǎn fǎn cè

參差荇菜 左右采之 窈窕淑女 琴瑟友之


cēn cī xìng cài zuǒ yòu cǎi zhī yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ qín sè yǒu zhī

參差荇菜 左右芼之 窈窕淑女 鐘鼓樂之


cēn cī xìng cài zuǒ yòu mào zhī yǎo tiǎo shū nǚ zhōng gǔ lè zhī

Some of the old rhymes still rhyme in modern Chinese, such as 鳩 jiū, 州 zhōu
and 逑 qiú in the first line; some no longer do, such as 采 cǎi and 友 yǒu, 芼 mào
Introduction 5

and 樂 lè3 in the last two lines. These are clues for us in examining the similarities
and differences between old and modern sounds, and other poems in the Shījīng
and rhyming texts in other old Chinese documents can afford many useful mate-
rials. Nevertheless, they can only bring to light general categories of historical
Chinese rhymes. Evidence of tones might also be found, but nothing about syl-
lable initials can be detected.

(3)   Variant characters and phonetic loan characters in ancient texts

It was less strict in ancient times than the modern era as to what character is
used for a certain word,4 so it is common to see one word represented by different
characters in different texts. 時日曷喪 shí rì hé sàng ‘When will this sun expire?’
in the《尚書》Shàngshū ‘Venerated Documents’5 is quoted as 是日曷喪 shì rì hé
sàng in the《史記》Shǐjì ‘Historical Records’.6 Both meaning ‘this’, 時 shí and 是
shì are known as variant characters of the same word. 曷 hé is commonly used in
ancient Chinese texts to mean ‘when’ or ‘what time’, equivalent to modern Chinese
何時 héshí, but many times it is written as 害 hé, such as 害澣害否 hé huàn hé fǒu
‘Which (clothes) need to be washed, which do not?’ in the third stanza of the poem
葛覃 Gětán of the Shījīng. These are known as phonetic loans. Doubtless there is
a phonetic association between 時 shí and 是 shì, and between 曷 hé and 害 hé.
Such associations have a utility comparable to that of phono-semantic compound
characters.

(4)   Reads-as, sound gloss, description, homophone

Sound descriptions after the Han Dynasty (206 BC–AD 220) use the formula
‘character A sounds like B’. Prior to that people used ‘reads as’, or ‘reads in the
same way as’, to denote sound. These represent the beginning of Chinese people’s
annotation of character sound. The characters that share the same sound are later
recognised as homophones:
公 gōng, equal division. It compounds the meaning of 八 and 厶. (There is a
note under the character 厶 stating it ‘reads as 司 sī’.) (Shuōwén)
䇂 reads as 愆 qiān; 䋼 reads in the same way as 聽 tīng. (Shuōwén)
孚尹旁達 fú yǐn páng dá ‘jade glows with bright colour’, metaphorically ‘a per-
son has high standards of morality’. Zheng Xuan’s annotation: 孚 reads as 浮
fú, 尹 reads as 筠 yún7 which means bamboo skin. (《禮記·聘義》Chapter
Pìnyì ‘Observances in Missions’ in the Lǐjì ‘Book of Rites’)
These examples have much to do with exegesis.8 Be that as it may, phonology
plays an inextricable part in them. So these sound descriptions may very well serve
as hints for the exploration of historical phonology, it is only that they are not ad-
equate quantitatively, nor strictly accurate phonologically.
On exegesis, scholars of the Han Dynasty had the ‘sound gloss’ method – that is,
to interpret the meaning of a given character using another character with identical
or similar sound. Sound glosses date far back but became popular in the Eastern
Han Dynasty (AD 25–220). The best-known books on sound gloss are Ban Gu’s
6 Introduction

(班固)《白虎通》Báihǔ Tōng ‘White Tiger Generality’ and Liu Xi (劉熙)’s


《釋名》Shìmíng ‘Explanation of Names’. There are many examples of sound
gloss in the Shuōwén as well; for example, 天 tiān ‘sky, heaven’ is sound-glossed
as 顛 diān ‘top’; 旁 páng ‘side’ is sound-glossed as 溥 pǔ ‘broad, extensive’; 馬
mǎ ‘horse’ is sound-glossed as 怒 nù ‘rage’ and 武 wǔ ‘military, valiant’. Sound
glosses have a comparable value to ‘reads-as’.
He Xiu’s (何休) annotation of the《公羊》Gōngyáng9 and Gao You’s (高誘)
annotation of the《呂氏春秋》Lǚshì Chūnqiū ‘Master Lü’s Spring and Autumn
Annals’ and the《淮南子》Huáinánzǐ ‘Writings of the Huainan Masters’ have
sound descriptions:

伐 fá in 伐人為客 fá rén wéi kè is pronounced long; 伐 fá in 見伐者為主 jiàn


fá zhě wéi zhǔ is pronounced short. (Annotation of the chapter ‘28th Year of
Duke Zhuang’ in the Gōngyáng)
駤 zhì is pronounced like 質 zhì, with slow breath, articulated at the tip of the
tongue. 旄 máo is close in pronunciation to 繆 móu as in 綢繆 chóumóu,
articulated with rapid breath. (Annotation of the Huáinánzǐ)

There is no way we can know what manner of articulation is meant by ‘long pro-
nunciation’, ‘short pronunciation’, ‘slow breath’ and ‘rapid breath’, which makes it
difficult for us to obtain useful information from such materials.

(5)   Fǎnqiè and rhyme dictionaries

In the latter stage of the Eastern Han Dynasty, we started to use, under the
influence of Indian scripts, a new method to mark the pronunciation of Chinese,
which is the 反切 fǎnqiè system. Scholars of the Six Dynasties era (from the early
third century to the late sixth century) paid careful attention to rhymes and metres
in their prose; as a result, there appeared a good number of rhyme dictionaries
adopting the fǎnqiè system. Although those dictionaries failed to be handed down
to us, we can still secure a sketchy outline from the comprehensively synthesised
work, the《切韻》Qièyùn ‘Segmented Rhymes’, whose compilation was led by
Lu Fayan (陸法言) of the Sui Dynasty (581–619).
The fǎnqiè system works by way of eliciting the pronunciation of a Chinese
character with two other characters. The initial of the first character and the rhyme
and tone of the second are conglomerated to represent the pronunciation of the
character under question. Here is an example whose pronunciation represented by
fǎnqiè is still applicable nowadays:

同 tóng, 徒紅切 tú hóng qiè: 徒 t(ú) + 紅 (h)óng → 同 tóng


This Sinographic spelling pattern presupposes sound analysis and is therefore
much more advanced than the use of homophones. It has greater accuracy and
works for almost all characters.
The extant rhyme dictionaries divide their volumes per the four tones, within which
a certain number of rhymes are distinguished. In each rhyme are listed characters that
Introduction 7

have the same rhyme. Those that have the same pronunciation are grouped together,
with the first character annotated with a fǎnqiè pattern. Thus, the pronunciation of all
characters in this group is known. The rhymes are categorised according to the rhym-
ing scheme of poems or songs; in conjunction with the four ancient tones, these are
the phonological basis on which rhyme dictionaries are compiled.

(6)   Rhyme charts

The latter years of the Tang Dynasty (618–906) saw the creation of rhyme charts
under the influence of India’s phonological studies. Roughly speaking, rhyme
charts arrange syllable initials in columns, and rhymes and tones in rows, and puts
characters in rhyme dictionaries in the corresponding cells of the rhyme tables. The
advantage of rhyme charts lies in their conciseness and systematicity compared
with the fǎnqiè system; their disadvantage is that homophonic characters cannot all
be included, since each cell contains but one character.
Early rhyme charts that are extant today date back to the end of Tang or the
Five Dynasties period (907–960). They were produced in accordance with con-
temporary rhyme dictionaries and therefore serve as the best reference for the
study of fǎnqiè. Later rhyme charts are from the dynasties of Song (960–1279)
and Yuan (1279–1368); they feature some conflations and deletions of rhymes
on the basis of earlier rhyme charts and provide evidence of the pronunciation
of the time.
Explanatory texts before and after the rhyme charts are good reference material:
some clarify the method of chart compilation; others are descriptions of speech
sounds.

(7)   Yuan Dynasty operas and their rhymes

The Northern opera verse is a faithful representation of vernacular speech


sounds since it took shape in the general public and did not win popularity among
the scholar-officials. The rhyme book《中原音韻》Zhōngyuán Yīnyùn ‘Rhymes
of the Central Plain’, compiled by Zhou Deqing (周德清) of the Yuan Dynasty,
was a reference book for verse composers at the time. The compilation of the
Zhōngyuán Yīnyùn is known for its break with the established practice of tra-
ditional rhyme dictionaries and represents the actual speech sounds of its time.
Later, the Ming and Qing dynasties saw a lot of publications of opera verse rhymes
recording more or less the contemporary speech sounds, under the influence of the
Zhōngyuán Yīnyùn.

(8)   Records by foreign missionaries in the Ming Dynasty (1368–1644)

Among the missionaries that came from the West to China in the Ming Dynasty,
many transliterated Chinese sound values with Western alphabets. The most promi-
nent is the《西儒耳目資》Xīrú Ěrmù Zī ‘Aid to the Eyes and Ears of Western
Scholars’ complied by Jesuit missionary Nicolas Trigault (1577–1628).
8 Introduction

(9) Modern dialects in China and transliteration abroad

Many modern Chinese dialects have evolved from old Chinese; therefore, we
can reconstruct ancient sounds with the help of modern dialects. Based on written
materials, we can only obtain categories of ancient sounds; as for their values, we
can only resort to modern dialects. This is a major inspiration we draw from mod-
ern Western linguistics. The historical phonology of Chinese has made consider-
able achievements over the last two or three decades.
The Chinese language of the Tang Dynasty also spread abroad, and its pronun-
ciation is represented by transliteration in Japan, Korea and Vietnam. Translitera-
tion is representation of pronunciations of the borrowed Chinese characters that
are adjusted in accordance with the borrower’s phonological system. Translitera-
tion abroad is still in use today and can also serve as material for our research on
the speech sounds of the Tang Dynasty, comparable in value to modern Chinese
dialects.

(10) Transliteration between Chinese and foreign characters

In the Six Dynasties and the Tang Dynasty, large quantities of Buddhist scrip-
tures were translated into Chinese. The source texts were mainly in Sanskrit, while
some were in Central Asian languages. Proper names in the scriptures that could
not be translated in meaning were transliterated, i.e. they were represented in sound
with corresponding Chinese characters. Chinese characters do not indicate sound,
whereas the writing systems of the source texts do; therefore, the transliteration
used in translation is very valuable material.
With the dissemination of Chinese culture, proper names of China have their
transliterated version in foreign languages as well. But we know too little
about this.

(11) Phonological comparison within the Sino-Tibetan family

We have learned from modern linguists that Chinese and the Tai language spo-
ken along China’s southwest border area and Thai belong to the same language
group known as Sino-Tai branch; Sino-Tai languages and Tibeto-Burman lan-
guages make up the Sino-Tibetan family. Languages of the same family or branch
share some common features in their sound system, and sound evolution may dem-
onstrate parallel patterns amongst member languages. It is a subject of compara-
tive linguistics to reconstruct the parent language based on related languages, to
testify to the unknown based on what is known. Now that comparative studies of
Sino-Tibetan languages have been preliminarily established, we can expect them to
throw a lot of light on the study of ancient Chinese.
§1.5 It has been many tens of thousands of years since the Han nationality came
into being. It has been at least three thousand years since the Han people started to
use characters. When it comes to our ancient phonological systems, however, we
Introduction 9

only have some rudimentary knowledge of the following stages since extant mate-
rials are limited and related studies are not advanced enough.

(1)   Old Chinese phonology

The main references are characters with shared phonetic symbols and rhym-
ing patterns in books written before the Qin Dynasty (221–206 BC). Collection
and collation of variant characters and phonetic loan characters in ancient classics
and their commentaries have not been completed; so far we only see random cita-
tions. Reads-as and sound glosses recorded by scholars of the Han Dynasty can
be viewed as phonetic loan characters if used in exegesis; the notes exclusively
for sound representations can serve as evidence of old phonology, but the time to
which those sound descriptions apply is often brought into question.10
The study of rhymes of the pre-Qin era is based on the Shījīng and the po-
ems therein are on the whole dated to the Western Zhou Dynasty (11th century
BC–771 BC). The so-called 六書 liùshū ‘six scripts’ or ‘six categories of charac-
ter construction’ is based on the small seal script, which had had a long history
before being fixed in the Qin Dynasty; therefore, characters with shared pho-
netic symbols correspond largely to the rhymes used in the Shījīng. That being
the case, the phonological system established through rhymes in the Shījīng and
characters with shared phonetic symbols generally reflects speech sound patterns
of the Zhou Dynasty (11th century BC–256 BC). It would be more prudent and
more general to say that Old Chinese speech sounds are those prevalent in the
pre-Qin era.

(2)   Middle Chinese phonology

Middle Chinese phonology refers to the phonological system as recorded in the


Qièyùn. The Preface to the Qièyùn was written in the first year (601) of the Ren-
shou Reign (601–604) of the Sui Dynasty. The Qièyùn served as the rhyming stand-
ard for poems of the Tang Dynasty, after the middle of which certain rhymes could
be conflated in poem writing. The fǎnqiè patterns used in the Qièyùn extended their
influence all the way to the beginning of the Song Dynasty. So it is fair to say that
Middle Chinese was spoken in the Sui and Tang dynasties. Recently there is the
suggestion that the formulation of the Qièyùn was inherited from previous times,
and it is not unreasonable to claim that the phonological system it represents could
be traced back to prior to the Sui Dynasty. Thus, we had better say that the time of
Middle Chinese was centred on Sui and early Tang.
Early rhyme charts make the best reference for reconstructing the phonologi-
cal system as recorded in the Qièyùn since they are compiled in compliance with
Qièyùn-based rhyme dictionaries. The translation of Buddhist scriptures had its
peak in the Tang Dynasty, so the transliteration bears many traces of speech sounds
of that time. As the Qièyùn phonological system gave rise to modern Chinese dia-
lects, the sound values of Qièyùn phonological categories can only be evaluated
10 Introduction

against live dialectal realisations. Transliteration abroad, as variants of the Tang


sound patterns, are supplementary to modern Chinese dialects.

(3)   Late Middle Chinese phonology

Rhyme dictionaries compiled by scholars of the Song Dynasty contained fewer


rhymes, the fǎnqiè patterns that had been prevalent for hundreds of years could no
longer be used after the Song, and later rhyme tables had omission or conflation
of rhymes. All this attests to the fact that a profound change occurred in Chinese
phonology in the Song Dynasty. A manifestation of this phonological change is the
《古今韻會舉要》Gǔjīn Yùnhuì Jǔyào ‘Essential Collection of Ancient and Mod-
ern Rhymes’ compiled jointly by Huang Gongshao (黃公紹) and Xiong Zhong
(熊忠) in the later years of the Song. Ostensibly following the layout of traditional
rhyme dictionaries, the Essential Collection provides new phonetic notation to all
characters and rearranges their order. It thus presents a clear description of the
contemporary phonological system, which can be regarded as a bridge connecting
Middle and Early Modern Chinese phonology.

(4)   Early Modern Chinese phonology

Officially compiled rhyme dictionaries could by no means break away from


orthodox literature; as a result, adjustments made to the rhyme dictionaries from
Song to Ming dynasties were not very rigorous and so could not faithfully repre-
sent speech sounds of the time. The Yuan Dynasty saw the enormous popularity of
the Northern opera, which was entirely folk literature. Zhou Deqing’s Zhōngyuán
Yīnyùn compiled for the opera verse was thus capable of removing restraints im-
posed by traditional rhyme dictionaries and representing contemporary speech
sounds. It can be said to embody the Northern stage speech of the Yuan, which
is also the remote ancestor of modern Northern Mandarin. The speech sounds
recorded by missionaries in the Ming Dynasty are positively closer to Modern
Chinese.

(5)   Modern Chinese phonology

Mandarin is the current national standard speech. The study of Mandarin pho-
nology has had a fairly long history. The study of Chinese dialects only started two
or three decades ago. It is being obstructed by so many years of war, so we have yet
to gain sufficient knowledge of dialects.
§1.6 The study of ancient speech sounds is largely constrained by the materi-
als available. The stages of ancient Chinese phonology mentioned earlier are only
roughly determined according to existing records. It is not that Chinese speech
sounds have only undergone those phases of evolution. Most obviously, we know
nothing about speech sounds prior to the Zhou Dynasty and barely anything in the
thousand years between the pre-Qin era and the Sui and Tang dynasties.
Introduction 11

Modern speech sounds are readily accessible; however, we still do not have
enough knowledge of them since dialect studies are only beginning in China. The
hitherto known dialects of Modern Chinese can be divided into the following
groups:

(1) Northern Mandarin: generally covering areas north of the Huai River, the
Han River and the Zhongnan Mountains. Standard Mandarin is one of its
varieties.
(2) Southwestern Mandarin: spoken in Sichuan, Yunnan, Guizhou, Hubei, West
Hunan, North Guangxi and North Jiangxi.
(3) Xiajiang Mandarin:11 lower reaches of the Yangtze River, Central Anhui and
North Jiangsu.
(4) Wu: South Jiangsu and Zhejiang.
(5) Gan: Gan River valley.
(6) Xiang: Valleys of the Xiang River, the Yuan River and the Zi River.
(7) Cantonese: Guangdong, Guangxi and overseas.
(8) Hakka: centred in North Guangdong and South Jiangxi; widespread in Tai-
wan and overseas.
(9) Northern Min: North Fujian, centred in Fuzhou.
(10) Southern Min: centred in Xiamen, Chaozhou and Shantou; widespread in
Taiwan, Hainan and overseas.
(11) Unidentified dialects such as Huizhou dialect.12

Ancient Chinese would have no fewer dialects than does Modern Chinese. The
ancient speech sounds verified today are all standard variety of their times. Ancient
Chinese dialects are recorded in even fewer documents, so we have access only to
odd bits and pieces of information in relation to them.
§1.7 Although we do not have adequate knowledge about ancient phonology,
it is still not an easy job to provide a general account of what we do know about
it in this small book. This is because (1) we have much more to cover for Chinese
than for many other languages since our language has three thousand years of his-
tory; (2) it takes a lot of trouble to account for ancient Chinese, as the materials
we depend on are problematic in themselves; and (3) many side issues are likely
to crop up since we are talking about phonology, which was obscure to many early
scholars.
The study of phonology requires a set of phonetic symbols, whose importance is
on a par with numbers in the study of mathematics. To the end of this book, a brief
account of phonetics is appended, providing a succinct summary of all phonetic
symbols used in this book.
In terms of Chinese phonology, this book adopts a practice that has never been
deployed elsewhere, that is to start with modern Chinese phonology. The author be-
lieves that, in so doing, it would be easier for beginners to handle on the one hand,
and learning modern phonology lays the foundation for learning ancient phonology
on the other.
12 Introduction

Nevertheless, Modern Chinese covers an enormous scope. We can only focus on


Mandarin and mention other dialects in passing.
Early Modern Chinese is a little older than Modern Chinese. To account for it
we also start with Modern Chinese.
The Late Middle Chinese materials follow on from the Middle Chinese materials,
so we should start the study of the older periods with Middle Chinese. The Qièyùn-
based rhyme dictionaries and rhyme charts are comparatively complete materials for
our study of ancient speech sounds; nevertheless, they are not easy to describe and
explain. Therefore, we shall put in more effort in this respect. Elucidation of Middle
Chinese phonology will lead naturally to the solution to problems in Late Middle
Chinese, which falls out of the scope of this book due to space constraints.
Old Chinese phonology is the most difficult part, and our studies of it are all
predicated on Middle Chinese phonology. So Old Chinese is positioned toward the
end of this book although chronically it appeared at the earliest stage.
In our account of Chinese phonology, apart from synchronic descriptions of the
phonological system in various time frames, it is equally important to reveal the
diachronic evolution between them. In this regard, we set a chapter ‘From Middle
Chinese to Modern Chinese’ after discussion of Middle Chinese phonology. There
should have been a chapter ‘From Old Chinese to Middle Chinese’ after Old Chi-
nese phonology as well. However, it can be dispensed with since our description of
Old Chinese phonology is derived from that of Middle Chinese phonology.
It is obvious that we are placing emphasis on a number of key points. Out of all
of the aspects of Chinese phonology, we focus on Modern Mandarin, Middle Chi-
nese and Old Chinese, on which basis we hope to extend our knowledge to other
aspects. On the face of it, we present our contents in a reversed time order; how-
ever, this sequence will work mostly naturally for our description and explanation.

Notes
1 Apart from Chinese, there are many other languages in China. Chinese is but the most
important one among all languages in China. Generally speaking, languages in China
can be classified into various branches of five big families:
I. Sino-Tibetan or Indo-Chinese Family
(1) Sino-Tai Group
(a) Chinese
(b) Tai: Dai, Buyi, Zhuang in southwestern provinces (in the same branch
with Thai)
(c) Miao, Yao
(2) Tibetan-Burman Group
(a) Tibetan: languages of the Tibetan people in Tibet, Xikang and Qinghai
(b) Yi, Naxi, etc. (Sichuan, Yunnan, Guizhou)
(c) Patois along the Yunnan-Burma border, such as Nu and Dulong (close to
Burmese)
II. Altaic Family
(1) Turkic: languages of Muslims in and nearby Xinjiang
(2) Mongolian
(3) Tungusic: Manchu and others
Introduction 13

III. Austronesian Family: languages of Taiwan aborigines (in the same family with Ma-
lay and Filipino)
IV. Austric Family: languages in Southwest Yunnan, such as Wa (in the same family
with Khmer in Vietnam and some languages in Burma)
V. Indo-European Family: Tajik in Xinjiang (in the same family with many languages
of India and Europe)
2 Translator’s note: The full title is《春秋左氏傳》Chūnqiū Zuǒshì Zhuàn, ‘Master
Zuo’s Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals’.
3 Translator’s note: The character 樂 lè used to have a pronunciation yào in modern Man-
darin which rhymes well with 芼 mào. However, this pronunciation is not considered
standard at present; it is not included in Modern Chinese dictionaries and annotated as
outdated in dictionaries on ancient Chinese.
4 ‘Word’ refers to the minimal unit in language in actual use, which is composed of certain
sounds and represents a certain concept. ‘Character’ is the graphological form of a word.
In Mandarin Chinese, for example, the combination of sounds x, i and ng represents
shining objects in the night sky. This is known as a word. We use 星 in modern writing
to represent the syllable xīng. This is known as a character. Each Chinese character rep-
resents a syllable in the Chinese language, and most Chinese words are monosyllabic;
therefore, the idea of a word is often confused with that of a character. Note that 我們
wǒmén ‘we’ is also a word but has two syllables and is usually written with two charac-
ters. For one single word, ancient people might represent it with variant characters, just
like modern people misuse characters. On this account, we should distinguish between
the concept of word and that of character.
5 Translator’s note: Also known widely in English as the ‘Book of Documents’.
6 Translator’s note: Also known widely in English as the ‘Records of the Grand Historian’.
7 Translator’s note: In modern Mandarin Chinese 尹 is read as yǐn, not as 筠 yún.
8 Duan Yucai comments in his《說文解字注》Shuōwén Jiězì Zhù ‘Annotated Shuōwén
Jiězì’ that there are two types of ‘reads-as’ in the annotation of sounds for classical
texts: ‘讀若 dúruò indicates an equivalence of sound, whereas 讀為 dúwéi represents a
change of character (i.e. phonetic loan character). Annotations of classics have both 讀
若 dúruò and 讀為 dúwéi. 讀為 dúwéi has a synonymous term, 讀曰 dúyuē; 讀若 dúruò
has a synonymous term, 讀如 dúrú. Actually the distinctions among these terms are not
as strict as Duan claims. His comment only roughly reflects the actual practice in the
annotation of ancient texts.
9 Translator’s note: The full title is《春秋公羊傳》Chūnqiū Gōngyáng Zhuàn, ‘Gong-
yang Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals’.
10 Our knowledge of phonetic loans comes mostly from ancient classic commentaries
compiled by scholars of the Han Dynasty. Although the Han scholars based their works
on teaching handed down by masters of previous generations, they still tended to de-
scribe old sounds of characters according to their contemporary pronunciation. Thus,
some phonetic loans only reflect the phonological system of the Han period.
11 Translator’s note: Presently 下江官話 ‘Xiajiang Mandarin’ is commonly called 江淮官
話 ‘Jianghuai Mandarin’.
12 Translator’s note: The Huizhou dialect is identified as an independent major dialect in
Language Atlas of China (2nd edition, China: Commercial Press, 2012).
2 Standard Mandarin Phonology

§2.1 國語 guóyǔ (lit. ‘national language’), or Standard Mandarin, refers to the


standard variety of Modern Chinese, which is based on the language used by peo-
ple in Beijing with a considerable level of education.1 For several hundred years,
leading figures of Chinese society spent their life mostly in Beijing and wrote many
literary works in the living language; therefore, their language has long established
itself as the standard variety of Chinese. 國語 guóyǔ is but a new term proposed by
the Nationalist government in 1920.
Our account of the phonological system of Standard Mandarin starts with the
description of the consonants and vowels.

(1)   Consonants (Table 2.1)

Among the labial consonants, [p], [p‘] and [m] are bilabial and [f] is labiodental.
There is no bilabial fricative nor labiodental plosive or nasal, so we group the four
consonants together as labials.
Strictly speaking, there is a difference between [t], [t‘], [n] and [l] on the one
hand and [ts], [ts‘] and [s] on the other – the former set is closer to alveolar whereas
the second set is closer to dental. However, the main difference between [t], [t‘] and
[ts], [ts‘] is one of manner of articulation: [t] and [t‘] are plosives whereas [ts] and
[ts‘] are affricates (for further discussion see §10 of the Appendix).
As far as independent syllables are concerned, voiced plosives or affricates do
not exist in Standard Mandarin. In multisyllabic words or complete sentences,
however, they are not uncommon, in which cases they are treated as resulting
from assimilation in connected speech rather than being independent phonemes
(see §2.8).
[ʐ] is the only voiced fricative, as opposed to the voiceless [ʂ] of the same place
of articulation. There are other voiced fricatives, too; however, like voiced plosives
and affricates aforementioned, they exist only in connected speech.
Syllables represented by 安 ān, 餓 è, etc. can begin with a glottal stop [ʔ] or
voiced velar fricative [ɣ]. Whether these initials are present or not does not make
any difference in language use. Therefore, they are not treated as independent
phonemes.

DOI: 10.4324/9781003411444-2
Standard Mandarin Phonology 15

Table 2.1 Consonants in Standard Mandarin

Plosives and affricates Nasals Voiceless Voiced fricatives


fricatives and laterals

Unaspirated Aspirated

labial [p] [p‘]1 [m] [f]


dental [t] [t‘] [n] [l]
[ts] [ts‘] [s]
retroflex [tʂ] [tʂ‘] [ʂ] [ʐ]2
palatal [tɕ] [tɕ‘] [ɕ]
velar [k] [k‘] [ŋ] [x]
Notes
1 Translator’s note: Sic. However, the standard IPA symbol for aspiration is not [‘] but [h], e.g. [ph] and [th].
2 Translator’s note: Sic. This is actually [ɹ] (pinyin r) but actually realised in different ways. Some
people do actually make it a fricative, but mainly it is produced using tongue root retraction or it is an
alveolar approximate with lip rounding (not retroflex). (Prof. Randy LaPolla made this clarification.)

Table 2.2 Monophthongs in Standard Mandarin

Apical Palatal

Front Back Front Central Back

Unrounded Rounded Unrounded Rounded

high [ɿ] [ʅ] [i] [y] [u]


mid [ɚ] [e] [ə] [ɤ] [o]
low [a]

(2) Monophthongs (Table 2.2)

The high apical vowels [ɿ] and [ʅ] are usually pronounced with unrounded lips,
with no rounded counterparts. [ɚ] has neutral lip rounding position.
The palatal vowels only have three levels of openness – [e], [ə], [ɤ] and [o] are
mid vowels; there is no need to describe them as mid-low or mid-high.
Frontness is not applicable to low vowels in Standard Mandarin; [a] represents
a sound with a rather broad range of variation. Generally speaking, at the end of a
syllable, [a] is close to central; when followed by [ŋ] or [u], it is further back; when
followed by [n] or [i], it is further front; when followed by [n] or [i] and preceded by
[i], it features a higher tongue position as a mid-low front vowel. We do not divide [a]
into four vowels because such a delicate division is not necessary in use; more impor-
tantly, it represents one single phoneme as far as phonological structure is concerned.

(3)   Diphthongs

[ai] [ei] [au] [ou]


16 Standard Mandarin Phonology

Here we only list falling diphthongs; rising diphthongs and triphthongs are not
treated as phonemes (see §6 of the Appendix).
§2.2 None of the consonants in Standard Mandarin appears in the middle of a
syllable. Only [n] and [ŋ] can appear at the end of a syllable, e.g. 暗 àn [an] and
剛 gāng [kaŋ]. [ŋ] does not appear at the beginning of a syllable, whereas [n] does,
e.g. 拿 ná [na] and 您 nín [nin]. All other consonants appear only at the beginning
of a syllable, e.g. 八 bā [pa], 唐 táng [t‘aŋ] and 誰 shéi [ʂei].
The high apical vowels [ɿ] and [ʅ] always end a syllable, and always follow a
consonant. The consonant before [ɿ] must be [ts], [ts‘] or [s], and before [ʅ] must
be [tʂ], [tʂ‘], [ʂ] or [ʐ], e.g. 司 sī [sɿ] and 日 rì [ʐʅ]. [ɚ] is always used on its own,
with nothing before or after, e.g. 耳 ěr [ɚ]. For these reasons, we can sometimes
represent the three apical vowels with a single symbol [ï]. It reads [ɿ] after [tʂ‘],
[ʂ] or [ʐ]; [ʅ] after [tʂ], [tʂ‘], [ʂ] or [ʐ]; or [ɚ] when used alone. There will be no
confusion if 司 sī, 日 rì and 耳 ěr are symbolised by [sï], [ʐï] and [ï], respectively.
Among the palatal vowels [i], [u], [y] and [a] are used most frequently. They can
stand alone or follow and/or precede other sounds:

衣 yī [i] 烏 wū [u] 魚 yú [y] 啊 ā [a]


比 bǐ [pi] 都 dū [tu] 呂 lǚ [ly] 牙 yá [ia]
因 yīn [in] 臥 wò [uo] 月 yuè [ye] 安 ān [an]
兵 bīng [piŋ] 送 sòng [suŋ] 君 jūn [tɕyn] 羊 yáng [iaŋ]

Here ‘other sounds’ are not any sound that is not the vowel itself. Which other
sounds can occur before or after a certain vowel is determined by rules specified in
§12 of the Appendix.

[ɤ]can occur alone, e.g. 鵝 é [ɤ]; it can be preceded by some consonants, e.g. 得
dé [tɤ]; it can never be followed by any other sound.
[ə]never occurs alone. It may be preceded by some consonants or vowels and is
always followed by either [n] or [ŋ] except in neutral-tone syllables, e.g. 恩 ēn [ən],
燈 dēng [təŋ] and 溫 wēn [uən].
[e]and [o] do not occur alone. [e] always occurs after [i] or [y], and [o] always
after [u], regardless of whether it is followed by a consonant, e.g. 夜 yè [ie], 碟
dié [tie], 月 yuè [ye], 缺 quē [tɕ‘ye], 窩 wō [uo] and 鍋 guō [kuo]. Except when
forming diphthongs as listed in §6 of the Appendix, they are not followed by any
other sound.

All diphthongs can occur after some consonants or vowels, e.g. 孩 hái [xai], 尾
wěi [uei], 搖 yáo [iau] and 鉤 gōu [kou]. They cannot be followed by other sounds.
All but [ei]2 can occur alone, e.g. 哀 āi [ai], 敖 áo [au] and 藕 ǒu [ou].
§2.3 We have always divided a Standard Mandarin syllable up into initial, final
and tone. Such a division, although following the practice in traditional Chinese
phonology, has its advantage in light of modern linguistics. In addition, this divi-
sion can be conveniently applied to phonological studies of ancient Chinese and
Standard Mandarin Phonology 17

languages related to Chinese, as well as Modern Chinese. Such being the case, we
had better clarify these terms here.
聲母 shēngmǔ ‘initials’ are syllable-initial consonants that are phonemically
significant, e.g. [p] in 班 bān [pan], [ts‘] in 參 cān [ts‘an] and [x] in 酣 hān [xan].
If there is no consonant at the initial position of a syllable or the consonant at that
position is not phonemically significant, we can say that that syllable has no initial
or that it has zero initial, e.g. 安 ān [an], 哀 āi [ai], 鵝 é [ɤ] and 恩 ēn [ən]. They
sometimes do not begin with a consonant, or sometimes they begin with a glottal
stop [ʔ] or a voiced velar fricative [ɣ], neither of which bears any phonological
significance.
韻母 yùnmǔ ‘finals’ are post-initial vowels plus consonants after the vowels. If
a syllable does not have an initial, it is all final. Syllable-forming consonants are
also treated all as finals.
Among finals, diphthongs that involve an opening process3 are analysed as com-
posed of a medial and a main vowel:

[ie] – [i|e] [io] – [i|o] [ua] – [u|a] [ye] – [y|e]

Triphthongs are analysed as composed of a medial and a diphthong:

[iau] – [i|au] [uei] – [u|ei]

When a vowel is followed by a consonant, the consonant is analysed as 韻尾


yùnwěi ‘coda’ in the final:

[an] – [a|n] [aŋ] – [a|ŋ]

Diphthongs involving a closing process are analysed also as composed of a main


vowel and a coda:

[ai] – [a|i] [ou] – [o|u]

The most complex final is composed of a medial, a main vowel and a coda:

[ian] – [i|a|n] [uaŋ] – [u|a|ŋ]

聲調 shēngdiào ‘tone’ refers to the pitch of a syllable; it is sometimes also re-


lated to the syllable’s length. In Chinese and languages genealogically related to
18 Standard Mandarin Phonology

Chinese, tone is a constituent element of a syllable – on a par with the initial and
final. For example, 媽 mā, 麻 má, 馬 mǎ and 罵 mà in Standard Mandarin share
the initial [m] and the final [a]; the difference among them is in the tone. Roughly
speaking, 媽 mā has a level tone, 麻 má has a rising tone, 馬 mǎ has a falling-rising
tone, and 罵 mà has a falling tone. Note that not all Chinese dialects have four
tones, and tones do not have the same rising and falling patterns across dialects.
§2.4 The initials, finals and tones of Standard Mandarin are listed as follows
(with examples provided in parentheses):

(1)   Initials (Table 2.3)

Table 2.3 Initials in Standard Mandarin

[p] [p‘] [m] [f]


巴 bā, 比 bǐ, 怕 pà, 皮 pí, 馬 mǎ, 米 mǐ, 法 fǎ, 夫 fū
布 bù 鋪 pù 母 mǔ
[t] [t‘] [n] [l]
答 dá, 低 dī, 他 tā, 提 tí, 拿 ná, 泥 ní, 拉 lā, 利 lì,
都 dū 途 tú 奴 nú, 女 nǚ 魯 lǔ, 呂 lǚ
[ts] [ts‘] [s]
資 zī, 雜 zá, 此 cǐ, 擦 cā, 思 sī, 撒 sǎ,
租 zū 醋 cù 蘇 sū
[tʂ] [tʂ‘] [ʂ] [ʐ]
知 zhī, 札 zhá, 遲 chí, 茶 chá, 施 shī, 沙 shā, 日 rì, 惹 rě,
朱 zhū 除 chú 書 shū 如 rú
[tɕ] [tɕ‘] [ɕ]
基 jī, 居 jū 齊 qí, 去 qù 喜 xǐ, 許 xǔ
[k] [k‘] [x]
哥 gē, 姑 gū 科 kē, 苦 kǔ 喝 hē, 虎 hǔ
[∅]
岸 àn, 鵝 é, 恩 ēn, 衣 yī, 汪 wāng, 魚 yú

(2)   Finals (Table 2.4)

Table 2.4 Finals in Standard Mandarin

[ï] [i] [u] [y]


子 zǐ, 紙 zhǐ, 耳 ěr 皮 pí, 底 dǐ, 基 jī, 布 bù, 都 dū, 租 zū, 朱 呂 lǚ, 舉 jǔ, 雨 yǔ
衣 yī zhū, 姑 gū, 五 wǔ
[a] [ɤ]
怕 pà, 打 dǎ, 薩 sà, 德 dé, 色 sè, 車
查 chá, 哈 hā, 啊 ā chē, 哥 gē, 俄 é
[ia] [ie]
家 jiā, 牙 yá 別 bié, 鐵 tiě, 歇 xiē, 也 yě
[ua] [uo]
耍 shuǎ, 瓜 guā, 瓦 wǎ 波 bō, 多 duō,
坐 zuò, 説 shuō,
郭 guō, 臥 wò
[ye]
雪 xuě, 月 yuè
Standard Mandarin Phonology 19

[ï] [i] [u] [y]


子 zǐ, 紙 zhǐ, 耳 ěr 皮 pí, 底 dǐ, 基 jī, 布 bù, 都 dū, 租 zū, 朱 呂 lǚ, 舉 jǔ, 雨 yǔ
衣 yī zhū, 姑 gū, 五 wǔ
[ai] [ei] [au] [ou]
拜 bài, 台 tái, 災 zāi, 陪 péi, 內 nèi, 賊 包 bāo, 刀 dāo, 曹 cáo, 否 fǒu, 頭 tóu, 搜
齋 zhāi, 該 gāi, zéi, 誰 shéi, 黑 高 gāo, 奧 ào sōu, 周 zhōu, 鉤
矮 ǎi hēi gōu, 歐 ōu
[iau] [iou]
飄 piāo, 條 tiáo, 叫 jiào, 謬 miù, 流 liú, 九
要 yào jiǔ, 遊 yóu
[uai] [uei]
揣 chuāi, 快 kuài, 堆 duī, 最 zuì, 追
外 wài zhuī, 歸 guī, 爲
wéi
[an] [ən] [in] [yn]
半 bàn, 單 dān, 三 本 běn, 嫩 nèn, 森 賓 bīn, 鄰 lín, 心 xīn, 羣 qún, 雲 yún
sān, 展 zhǎn, 甘 sēn, 枕 zhěn, 根 因 yīn
gān, 安 ān gēn, 恩 ēn
[ian]
邊 biān, 添 tiān, 間
jiān, 鹽 yán
[uan] [uən]
端 duān, 算 suàn, 船 頓 dùn, 遵 zūn, 準
chuán, 官 guān, 完 zhǔn, 昆 kūn, 穩
wán wěn
[yan]
全 quán, 圓 yuán
[aŋ] [əŋ] [iŋ] [uŋ]
邦 bāng, 當 dāng, 蓬 péng, 登 dēng, 兵 bīng, 丁 dīng, 興 xīng, 東 dōng, 松 sōng,
桑 sāng, 張 zhāng, 曾 zēng, 正 英 yīng 中 zhōng, 公
剛 gāng, 昂 áng zhēng, 耕 gēng gōng, 翁 wēng
[iaŋ]
良 liáng, 香 xiāng,
陽 yáng
[uaŋ]
莊 zhuāng, 光 guāng,
王 wáng
[yuŋ]
兄 xiōng, 用 yòng

Finals in the first and second partitions have no coda and are traditionally known
as open-end finals. Finals in the third partition are diphthongs, or finals with vowel
codas. Finals in the fourth and fifth partitions have nasal codas.
Finals with nasal codas are termed 陽聲 yángshēng finals, while those without
nasal codas are collectively called 陰聲 yīnshēng finals.
Finals in the first row in each partition have no medial before the main vowel;
those in the second, third and fourth rows have the medials [i], [u] and [y] respec-
tively. Finals with the same medial tend to match the same initials, and finals with
20 Standard Mandarin Phonology

[i], [u] and [y] as main vowel share the same features with finals with [i], [u] and
[y] as medial. Thus, we classify finals into four types:
開口 kāikǒu ‘open-mouth’ final: no medial, or main vowel other than [i], [u], [y]
齊齒 qíchǐ ‘even-teeth’ final: medial [i], or main vowel [i]
合口 hékǒu ‘closed-mouth’ final: medial [u], or main vowel [u]
撮口 cuōkǒu ‘round-mouth’ final: medial [y], or main vowel [y]
Sometimes we group ‘open-mouth’ and ‘closed-mouth’ finals together as 洪音
hóngyīn ‘broad sounds’ and ‘even-teeth’ and ‘round-mouth’ finals together as 細
音 xìyīn ‘narrow sounds’. ‘Narrow’ finals feature high vowels [i] or [y], while
‘broad’ ones do not. Having no round-lip vowels, ‘even-teeth’ finals are some-
times reclassified as ‘open-mouth’; having round-lip vowels, ‘round-mouth’ finals
are sometimes reclassified as ‘closed-mouth’. In this light, both ‘open-mouth’ and
‘closed-mouth’ finals have a broad sense and a narrow one.
Based on this classification, finals of Standard Mandarin can be displayed in a
neat grid:

[ï] [a] [ɤ] [ai] [ei] [au] [ou] [an] [ən] [aŋ] [əŋ]
[i] [ia] [ie] [iau] [iou] [ian] [in] [iaŋ] [iŋ]
[u] [ua] [uo] [uai] [uei] [uan] [uən] [uaŋ] [uŋ]
[y] [ye] [yan] [yn] [yuŋ]

(3)   Standard Mandarin has four tones (Table 2.5):


Table 2.5 Tones in Standard Mandarin

Class Contour Symbol Examples

陰平 yīnpíng (first tone) high level (55) ˥ 巴 bā, 梯 tī, 雖 suī, 申 shēn,
皆 jiē, 姑 gū, 屋 wū
陽平 yángpíng (second tone) high rising (35) ˧˥ 拔 bá, 提 tí, 隋 suí, 神 shén,
潔 jié, 胡 hú, 無 wú
上 shǎng (third tone) falling-rising (315)1 ˧˩˥ 把 bǎ, 體 tǐ, 髓 suǐ, 沈 shěn,
姐 jiě, 古 gǔ, 五 wǔ
去 qù (fourth tone) full falling (51) ˥˩ 霸 bà, 替 tì, 碎 suì, 甚 shèn,
戒 jiè, 固 gù, 誤 wù
1 Translator’s note: The shǎng tone in Standard Mandarin is more commonly designated 214 in pitch value.

The names of tone classes: 陰平 yīnpíng, 陽平 yángpíng, 上 shǎng and 去 qù are
phonological terms, whereas ‘first tone’, ‘second tone’, etc. are their common names.
§2.5 Matches between initials and finals are displayed in Table 2.6.
A table showing in detail the matches between tones on the one hand and ini-
tials and finals on the other would be fairly sizable. Here we only mention a few
important points:

(1) Syllables whose initials are unaspirated plosives and affricates do not take the
yángpíng tone (˧˥) with yángshēng finals. Those having the yángpíng tone with
yīnshēng finals, e.g. 拔 bá [pa˧˥], 則 zé [tsə˧˥], 直 zhí [tʂï˧˥], 毒 dú [tu˧˥], 極 jí
[tɕi˧˥], have evolved from ancient syllables in the 入 rù tone.4
Standard Mandarin Phonology 21

(2) Syllables with voiced initials do not take the yīnpíng tone (˥), except for a
small number of onomatopoeic characters, e.g. 咪 mī [mi˥], and a few charac-
ters used colloquially, e.g. 媽 mā [ma˥] and 撈 lāo [lau˥].
(3) Syllables with the initial [s] and ‘open-mouth’ finals do not take the yángpíng
tone, which is only possible in syllables with ‘closed-mouth’ finals, e.g. 俗 sú
[su˧˥] and 隨 suí [suei˧˥].

Table 2.6 Matches Between Initials and Finals in Standard Mandarin


Final ‘Open-mouth’
Example
Initial [ï]1 [a] [ɤ] [ai] [ei] [au] [ou] [an] [ən] [aŋ] [əŋ]

Bilabial 巴 白 杯 包 班 本 邦 崩
[p]
bā bái bēi bāo bān běn bāng bēng
怕 排 佩 跑 剖 盤 盆 旁 蓬
[p‘]
pà pái pèi pǎo pōu pán pén páng péng
馬 買 梅 毛 謀 滿 門 忙 孟
[m]
mǎ mǎi méi máo móu mǎn mén máng mèng
法 肥 否 凡 分 房 風
[f]
fǎ féi fǒu fán fēn fáng fēng
dental 答 德 代 刀 斗 單 當 登
[t] 2
dá dé dài dāo dǒu dān dāng dēng
他 特 太 桃 頭 談 湯 謄
[t‘]
tā tè tài táo tóu tán tāng téng
拿 訥 乃 內 腦 耨 南 嫩 囊 能
[n]
ná nè nǎi nèi nǎo nòu nán nèn náng néng
拉 肋 來 累 老 樓 藍 郎 冷
[l]
lā lē lái lèi lǎo lóu lán láng lěng
資 雜 則 再 (賊) 早 走 贊 怎 葬 曾
[ts]
zī zá zé zài zéi zǎo zǒu zàn zěn zàng zēng
此 擦 冊 才 草 湊 參 岑 藏 層
[ts‘]
cǐ cā cè cái cǎo còu cān cén cáng céng
思 撒 色 賽 (塞) 掃 叟 三 森 桑 僧
[s]
sī sǎ sè sài sēi3 sǎo sǒu sān sēn sāng sēng
retroflex 知 札 者 齋 (這) 照 周 展 真 張 正
[tʂ]
zhī zhá zhě zhāi zhèi4 zhào zhōu zhǎn zhēn zhāng zhèng
遲 茶 車 柴 超 愁 産 沉 長 成
[tʂ‘]
chí chá chē chái chāo chóu chǎn chén cháng chéng
施 沙 捨 篩 (誰) 燒 手 陝 申 商 生
[ʂ]
shī shā shě shāi shéi shāo shǒu shǎn shēn shāng shēng
日 惹 饒 肉 然 人 讓 扔
[ʐ]
rì rě ráo ròu rán rén ràng rēng
palatal [tɕ]
[tɕ‘]
[ɕ]

(Continued)
22 Standard Mandarin Phonology

Table 2.6 (Continued)


Final ‘Open-mouth’
Example
Initial [ï]1 [a] [ɤ] [ai] [ei] [au] [ou] [an] [ən] [aŋ] [əŋ]
velar [k] (嘎) 哥 該 (給) 高 鉤 干 根 岡 耕
gā gē gāi gěi gāo gōu gān gēn gāng gēng
[k‘] (卡) 科 開 考 口 看 墾 康 坑
kǎ kē kāi kǎo kǒu kàn kěn kāng kēng
[x] (哈) 喝 海 (黑) 好 後 含 痕 杭 亨
hā hē hǎi hēi hǎo hòu hán hén háng hēng
[∅] 耳 (啊) 俄 矮 奧 藕 安 恩 昂
ěr ā é ǎi ào ǒu ān ēn áng

Final ‘Even-teeth’
Example
Initial [i] [ia] [ie] [iau] [iou] [ian] [in] [iaŋ] [iŋ]

Bilabial [p] 比 別 表 編 賓 丙
bǐ bié biǎo biān bīn bǐng
[p‘] 皮 撇 飄 篇 貧 平
pí piě piāo piān pín píng
[m] 米 滅 苗 謬 面 民 明
mǐ miè miáo miù miàn mín míng
[f]
dental [t] 低 碟 弔 丟 顛 丁
dī dié diào diū diān dīng
[t‘] 提 帖 跳 甜 廷
tí tiè tiào tián tíng
[n] 泥 臬 鳥 牛 年 (您) 娘 寧
ní niè niǎo niú nián nín niáng níng
[l] 利 (倆) 列 了 留 廉 林 涼 陵
lì liǎ liè liǎo liú lián lín liáng líng
[ts]
[ts‘]
[s]
retroflex [tʂ]
[tʂ‘]
[ʂ]
[ʐ]
palatal [tɕ] 基 加 皆 交 九 間 今 將 京
jī jiā jiē jiāo jiǔ jiān jīn jiāng jīng
[tɕ‘] 齊 掐 且 巧 秋 錢 親 強 青
qí qiā qiě qiǎo qiū qián qīn qiáng qīng
[ɕ] 喜 下 歇 孝 休 現 欣 香 興
xǐ xià xiē xiào xiū xiàn xīn xiāng xīng
Standard Mandarin Phonology 23

Final ‘Even-teeth’
Example
Initial [i] [ia] [ie] [iau] [iou] [ian] [in] [iaŋ] [iŋ]
velar [k]
[k‘]
[x]
[∅] 衣 牙 夜 妖 由 鹽 因 羊 英
yī yá yè yāo yóu yán yīn yáng yīng

Final ‘Closed-mouth’
Example
Initial [u] [ua] [uo] [uai] [uei] [uan] [uən] [uaŋ] [uŋ]

Bilabial [p] 布 玻
bù bō
[p‘] 鋪 破
pù pò
[m] 母 末
mǔ mò
[f] 夫 佛
fū fó
dental [t] 都 多 堆 短 頓 東
dū duō duī duǎn dùn dōng
[t‘] 途 妥 推 團 屯 通
tú tuǒ tuī tuán tún tōng
[n] 奴 糯 暖 農
nú nuò nuǎn nóng
[l] 魯 羅 亂 論 龍
lǔ luó luàn lùn lóng
[ts] 租 坐 罪 鑽 尊 總
zū zuò zuì zuàn zūn zǒng
[ts‘] 醋 挫 崔 竄 寸 葱
cù cuò cuī cuàn cùn cōng
[s] 蘇 鎖 綏 算 孫 松
sū suǒ suí suàn sūn sōng
retroflex [tʂ] 朱 抓 桌 5
追 專 准 莊 中
zhū zhuā zhuō zhuī zhuān zhǔn zhuāng zhōng
[tʂ‘] 除 戳 揣 吹 穿 春 窗 重
chú chuō chuāi chuī chuān chūn chuāng chóng
[ʂ] 書 耍 説 帥 税 閂 舜 雙
shū shuǎ shuō shuài shuì shuān shùn shuāng
[ʐ] 如 若 軟 閏 戎
rú ruò ruǎn rùn róng
palatal [tɕ]
[tɕ‘]
[ɕ]
(Continued)
24 Standard Mandarin Phonology

Table 2.6 (Continued)


Final ‘Closed-mouth’
Example
Initial [u] [ua] [uo] [uai] [uei] [uan] [uən] [uaŋ] [uŋ]
velar [k] 姑 瓜 鍋 怪 歸 官 滾 光 公
gū guā guō guài guī guān gǔn guāng gōng
[k‘] 苦 誇 括 快 虧 寬 困 狂 空
kǔ kuā kuò kuài kuī kuān kùn kuáng kōng
[x] 虎 花 活 懷 回 還 昏 黃 紅
hǔ huā huó huái huí huán hūn huáng hóng
[∅] 烏 蛙 窩 外 惟 完 溫 汪 翁
wū wā wō wài wéi wán wēn wāng wēng

Final ‘Round-mouth’
Example

Initial [y] [ye] [yan] [yn] [yŋ]

Bilabial [p]
[p‘]
[m]
[f]
dental [t]
[t‘]
[n] 女 虐
nǚ nüè
[l] 呂 略
lǚ lüè
[ts]
[ts‘]
[s]
retroflex [tʂ]
[tʂ‘]
[ʂ]
[ʐ]
palatal [tɕ] 居 決 捐 君 窘
jū jué juān jūn jiǒng
[tɕ‘] 去 缺 全 羣 窮
qù quē quán qún qióng
[ɕ] 許 靴 宣 勛 兄
xǔ xuē xuān xūn xiōng
velar [k]
[k‘]
[x]
[∅] 魚 月 圓 雲 用
yú yuè yuán yún yòng
Standard Mandarin Phonology 25

Notes
1 Pronounced [ɿ] after [tʂ‘], [ʂ] or [ʐ]; [ʅ] after [tʂ], [tʂ‘], [ʂ] or [ʐ]; [ɚ] after [∅].
2 Colloquial speech has [tei˥] (meaning ‘catch’), [tei˧˩˥] (meaning ‘need, have to’), etc.
3 Translator’s note: In Standard Mandarin the character 塞 has the pronunciations sāi, sài and sè. It is
pronounced sēi in colloquial speech of some Mandarin dialects.
4 Pronunciation of 這 zhèi as [tʂei˥˩] results from conflation of 這 zhè [tʂɤ˥˩] and 一 yī [i˥].
5 [tʂuai˥˩] means ‘pull’. Translator’s note: In the original text there is no character in this cell; however,
this cell can be filled in with 拽 zhuài (pronounced [tʂuai˥˩], meaning ‘pull’ – as indicated in the origi-
nal note).

§2.6 In Standard Mandarin phrases or sentences, some syllables are pronounced


more lightly than others, e.g. 去 qu in 上去 shàngqu ‘go up’, 下 xia in 底下 dǐxia
‘under’, 的 de in 我的 wǒde ‘mine’, 得 de in 做得好 zuòde hǎo ‘well done’, and
了 le and 嗎 ma in 來了嗎 láile ma ‘did (you/she/they) come?’. We call them 輕
聲 qīngshēng ‘light’ syllables since their pronunciation requires less force. They
take a neutral tone; in other words, they have no fixed tone. According to Yuen Ren
Chao, the pitch of a neutral tone syllable depends on its preceding non-neutral tone
syllable:

他的 tā de [t‘a˥ tə˧] 撕掉 sī diao [sï˥ tiau˧]


誰的 shéi de [ʂei˧˥ tə˨] 塗掉 tú diao [t‘u˧˥ tiau˨]
你的 nǐ de [ni˧˩˥ tə˦] 走掉 zǒu diao [tsou˧˩˥ tiau˦]
破的 pò de [p‘uo˥˩ tə˩] 去掉qù diao [tɕ‘y˥˩ tiau˩]

蓮子 liánzǐ ‘lotus seed’ and 簾子 liánzi ‘hanging screen’ differ only in whether
子 zǐ is pronounced in the neutral tone, which requires a special symbol in its pho-
netic representation. In addition, some characters, such as 的 de, 了 le and 嗎 ma
mentioned earlier, always take the neutral tone. Without a special symbol represen-
tation, there would be no way to indicate their pronunciation. The current practice
is adding [꜏] after the initial and final symbols:

上去 shàngqu [ʂaŋ˥˩ tɕ‘y꜏] 底下 dǐxia [ti˧˩˥ ɕia꜏]


我的 wǒde [uo˧˩˥ tə꜏]
做得好 zuòde hǎo [tsuo˥˩ tə꜏ xau˧˩˥] 來了嗎 láile ma [lai˧˥ lə꜏ mə꜏]
簾子 liánzi [lian˧˥ tsï꜏] (蓮子 liánzǐ [lian˧˥ tsï˧˩˥])

For syllables that always take the neutral tone, we cannot conjecture about their
non-neutral tone pronunciation based on the Chinese characters they use. For ex-
ample, 的 de [tə꜏] in 我的 wǒde was not originally [ti˥˩] simply because it shares the
character with 的 dì in 目的 mùdì; the second syllable in 弟弟 dìdi also takes the
neutral tone, but it is not pronounced [tə꜏]. Likewise, 了 le [lə꜏] in 來了 láile is not
derived from 了 liǎo [liau˧˩˥] in 完了 wánliǎo; 掉 diao in 走掉 zǒu diao also takes
the neutral tone, but it is pronounced [tiau꜏] rather than [tə꜏].
[ə] appears to be a final exclusive to syllables in the neutral tone. It is problem-
atic to suggest that it is originally pronounced either [ɤ] or [a].
26 Standard Mandarin Phonology

§2.7 Standard Mandarin words like 花兒 huār and 鳥兒 niǎor are commonly
written with two characters, and 兒 er is regarded as taking the neutral tone. From
the perspective of grammar, 花兒 huār, 鳥兒 niǎor and suchlike are composed of
stems [xua˥] and [niau˧˩˥] and the suffix [ɹ]. [xuaɹ˥] and [niauɹ˧˩˥] are monosyllabic.
Here we describe the influences that the suffix [ɹ] has on the stem final.
(1) [ï] + [ɹ] → [əɹ], e.g. 字兒 zìr [tsəɹ˥˩] ← [tsəɹ˥˩] + [ɹ], 紙兒 zhǐr [tʂəɹ˧˩˥] ← [tʂï˧˩˥] + [ɹ].
(2) [ɹ] causes no change to [i], [u], [y], [a], [ia], [ua], [ɤ], [ie], [uo] and [ye],
e.g. 雞兒 jīr [tɕiɹ˥], 鼓兒 gǔr [kuɹ˧˩˥], 魚兒 yúr [yɹ˧˥], 靶兒 bǎr [paɹ˧˩˥], 家兒
jiār [tɕiaɹ˥], 瓜兒 guār [kuaɹ˥], 格兒 gér [kɤɹ˧˥], 葉兒 yèr [ieɹ˥˩], 桌兒 zhuōr
[tʂuoɹ˥], 月兒 yuèr [yeɹ˥˩]. (Some Beijing people say [ieɹ] and [yeɹ] when finals
[i] and [y] in the falling-rising or falling tone takes the suffix [ɹ], e.g. 幾兒 jǐr
[tɕieɹ˧˩˥], 底兒 dǐr [tieɹ˧˩˥], 雨兒 yǔr [yeɹ˧˩˥] and 句兒 jùr [tɕyeɹ˥˩].)
(3) The coda [i] in diphthongs is deleted when followed by the suffix [ɹ]:
[ai][uai] + [ɹ] → [aɹ][uaɹ], e.g. 牌兒 páir [p‘aɹ˧˥] (← [p‘ai˧˥] + [ɹ]), (老)帥兒
(lǎo) shuàir [ʂuaɹ˥˩] ← [ʂuai˥˩] + [ɹ];
[ei][uei] + [ɹ] → [əɹ][uəɹ], e.g. 杯兒 bēir [pəɹ˥] (← [pei˥] + [ɹ]), 鬼兒 guǐr
[kuəɹ˧˩˥] ← [kuei˧˩˥] + [ɹ].
(4) [ɹ] causes no change to diphthongs with the coda [u], e.g. 刀兒 dāor [tauɹ˥], 鳥
兒 niǎor [niauɹ˧˩˥], 頭兒 tóur [t‘ouɹ˧˥] and 油兒 yóur [iouɹ˧˥].
(5) the coda [n] is deleted when followed by the suffix [ɹ]:
[an] + [ɹ] → [aɹ], e.g. 瓣兒 bànr [paɹ˥˩] (← [pan˥˩] + [ɹ])
[ian] + [ɹ] → [iaɹ], e.g. 辮兒 biànr [piaɹ˥˩] (← [pian˥˩] + [ɹ])
[uan] + [ɹ] → [uaɹ], e.g. 碗兒 wǎnr [uaɹ˧˩˥] (← [uan˧˩˥] + [ɹ])
[yan] + [ɹ] → [yaɹ], e.g. 院兒 yuànr [yaɹ˥˩] (← [yan˥˩] + [ɹ])
[ən] + [ɹ] → [əɹ], e.g. 針兒 zhēnr [tʂəɹ˥] (← [tʂən˥] + [ɹ])
[in] + [ɹ] → [iɹ], e.g. 今兒 jīnr [tɕiɹ˥] (← [tɕin˥] + [ɹ])
[uən] + [ɹ] → [uəɹ], e.g. 滾兒 gǔnr [kuəɹ˧˩˥] (← [kuən˧˩˥] + [ɹ])
[yn] + [ɹ] → [yɹ], e.g. 雲兒 yúnr [yɹ˧˥] (← [yn˧˥] + [ɹ])
(6) the coda [ŋ] is deleted when followed by the suffix [ɹ], and the main vowel in
the final is nasalised:
[əŋ] + [ɹ] → [ə̃ɹ], e.g. 凳兒 dèngr [tə̃ɹ˥˩] (← [təŋ˥˩] + [ɹ])
[iŋ] + [ɹ] → [ĩɹ], e.g. 名兒 míngr [mĩɹ˧˥] (← [miŋ˧˥] + [ɹ])
[uŋ] + [ɹ] → [ũɹ], e.g. 空兒 kòngr [k‘ũɹ˥˩] (← [k‘uŋ˥˩] + [ɹ])
[aŋ] + [ɹ] → [ãɹ], e.g. 湯兒 tāngr [t‘ãɹ˥] (← [t‘aŋ˥] + [ɹ])
[iaŋ] + [ɹ] → [iãɹ], e.g. 樣兒 yàngr [iãɹ˥˩] (← [iaŋ˥˩] + [ɹ])
[uaŋ] + [ɹ] → [uãɹ], e.g. 光兒 guāngr [kuãɹ˥] (← [kuaŋ˥] + [ɹ])
For the sake of convenience, we can use [ŋ] in writing instead of the nasalisation
diacritic, e.g. 凳兒 dèngr [təŋɹ˥˩]), on the condition that we know the [ŋ] before [ɹ]
indicates nasalisation of the main vowel.
Standard Mandarin Phonology 27

It is also to be noted that the suffix [ɹ] can make different syllables sound iden-
tically, e.g. 今兒 jīnr = 雞兒 jīr [tɕiɹ˥], 枝兒 zhīr = 針兒 zhēnr [tʂəɹ˥] and 蓋兒
gàir = 榦兒 gànr [kaɹ˥˩].
§2.8 The pronunciation of a single syllable tends to vary in connected speech,
which is known as ‘sandhi’. Such sound change is not prominent in Standard Man-
darin, except for two types of tone sandhi conditioned by context.5

(1) When two falling-rising tone syllables are next to each other, the first in con-
verted to the rising tone, e.g. 好馬 hǎo mǎ [xau˧˥ (←˧˩˥) ma˧˩˥] and 打狗 dǎ gǒu
[ta˧˥ (←˧˩˥) kou˧˩˥]. This change takes effect even when the second syllable takes
the neutral tone, e.g. 小姐 xiǎo jie [ɕiau˧˥ (←˧˩˥) tɕie꜏] and 走走 zǒu zou [tsou˧˥
(←˧˩˥) tsou꜏]. Note, however, that the suffix 子 zi causes no change to the pre-
ceding falling-rising tone, e.g. 李子 lǐzi [li˧˩˥ tsï꜏]. Nor do sentence particles,
e.g. 走了 zǒu le [tsou˧˩˥ lə꜏].

A syllable in the falling-rising tone preceding one in other tones does not
remain unchanged. It usually loses the rising half and retains the falling half,
e.g. 好 hǎo in 好花 hǎo huā, 好人 hǎo rén and 好漢 hǎo hàn, and is thus pro-
nounced similar to a falling tone. The tone thus resulted is sometimes called
‘half shǎng’ tone.
The realisation of this half falling-rising tone usually escapes notice because
it is different from that of any of the four ‘normal’ tones. The change to a falling-
rising tone syllable caused by another one that follows makes it sound like the
existing rising tone, so people know that 五 wǔ in 五百 wǔbǎi is changed to sound
like 吴 wú.

(2) 一 yī ‘one’ takes the level tone when standing alone, e.g. in counting numbers
一 yī, 二 èr and 三 sān [i˥, ə˥˩, san˥]. It turns into the falling tone when fol-
lowed by syllables in the level, rising or falling-rising tone, e.g. 一張 yī zhāng
[i˥˩ tʂaŋ˥], 一條 yī tiáo [i˥˩ t‘iau˧˥] and 一把 yī bǎ [i˥˩ pa˧˩˥]. It takes the rising tone
when followed by syllables in the falling tone, e.g. 一個 yī gè [i˧˥ kɤ˥˩] and 一
塊 yī kuài [i˧˥ k‘uai˥˩].

不 bù ‘not’ usually takes the falling tone, either alone or before syllables in the
level, rising or falling-rising tone, e.g. 不開 bù kāi [pu˥˩ k‘ai˥], 不來 bù lái [pu˥˩
lai˧˥] and 不好 bù hǎo [pu˥˩ xau˧˩˥]. It turns into the rising tone before syllables in the
falling tone, e.g. 不去 bù qù [pu˧˥ tɕ‘y˥˩].
七 qī ‘seven’ and 八 bā ‘eight’ are normally pronounced in the level tone. They
can take the rising tone before syllables in the falling tone, but only optionally. For
example, some people pronounce 七個 qī gè and 八個 bā ge as [tɕ‘i˧˥ kɤ˥˩] and [pa˧˥
kɤ˥˩], whereas others pronounce them as [tɕ‘i˥ kɤ˥˩] and [pa˥ kɤ˥˩].
In addition, when we say 耕地 gēngdì, the initial of 地 dì will sometimes be a
voiced plosive; when we say 辦法 bànfǎ, the coda of 辦 bàn will often change from
[n] to [m] or [ɱ]. These can be explained as sound change conditioned by adjacent
28 Standard Mandarin Phonology

sounds. In 耕地 gēngdì [kəŋ˥ ti˥˩], the conversion of [t] into [d] is a natural one since
it is preceded by the vowel [i] and followed by the nasal [ŋ]. In 辦法 bànfǎ [pan˥˩ fa꜏],
[n] turns into [m] or [ɱ] obviously because of the influence from the following [f].
Two syllables can be conflated into one because of frequent use. In Standard
Mandarin, there are a few examples:

(1) 不 bù and 用 yòng merge into 甭 béng: [pu˥˩ yuŋ˥˩] → [pu˧˥ yuŋ˥˩] → [puŋ˧˥] →
[pəŋ˧˥]. (In Standard Mandarin [p] cannot form a syllable with [uŋ], hence the
last step of change.)
(2) Conflation of 這 zhè [tʂɤ˥˩] and 一 yī [i] results in [tʂei˥˩]; that of 哪 nǎ [na˧˩˥]
and 一 yī [i] results in [nei˧˩˥]; that of 那 nà [nà] and 一 yī [i] results in [nei˥˩].
(The change from [a] or [ɤ] into [e] is effected under the influence of [i].)

§2.9 Systematic phonological study of Standard Mandarin naturally requires the


use of International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA). A few other notations, however, are
also widely used. Here we only introduce the Bopomofo system.
Bopomofo is officially known as Mandarin Phonetic Symbols (Version 1). Pub-
licised by the Republican government, it consists of symbols for initials, medials,
rhymes and tones.
Initial symbols represent initials in Standard Mandarin syllables and precede all
other symbols.

ㄅ ㄆ ㄇ ㄈ [p] [p‘] [m] [f]


ㄉ ㄊ ㄋ ㄌ [t] [t‘] [n] [l]
ㄍ ㄎ ㄏ [k] [k‘] [x]
ㄐ ㄑ ㄒ [tɕ] [tɕ‘] [ɕ]
ㄓ ㄔ ㄕ ㄖ [tʂ] [tʂ‘] [ʂ] [ʐ]
ㄗ ㄘ ㄙ [ts] [ts‘] [s]

Medial symbols are placed between other symbols.

丨ㄨㄩ [i] [u] [y]

They represent the three medials in Standard Mandarin on the one hand, and
main vowels [i], [u] and [y] on the other.
Rhyme symbols are positioned after other symbols. They represent all ‘open-
mouth’ finals in Standard Mandarin.

ㄭ ㄚ ㄛ ㄜ ㄝ [ɿ, ʅ] [a] [o] [ɤ] [e]


ㄞ ㄟ ㄠ ㄡ [ai] [ei] [au] [ou]
ㄢ ㄣㄤ ㄥ [an] [ən [aŋ] [əŋ]
ㄦ [ɚ]
Standard Mandarin Phonology 29

‘Even-teeth’, ‘closed-mouth’ and ‘round-mouth’ finals are represented by at-


taching 丨, ㄨ and ㄩ before rhyme symbols. All finals of Standard Mandarin are
listed in the following table; on the left are their Bopomofo symbols.

ㄭ 丨 ㄨ ㄩ [ɿ, ʅ] [i] [u] [y]


ㄚ 丨ㄚ ㄨㄚ [a] [ia] [ua]
ㄜ 丨ㄝ ㄨㄛ ㄩㄝ [ɤ] [ie] [uo] [ye]
ㄞ ㄨㄞ [ai] [uai]
ㄟ ㄨㄟ [ei] [uei]
ㄠ 丨ㄠ [au] [iau]
ㄡ 丨ㄡ [ou] [iou]
ㄢ 丨ㄢ ㄨㄢ ㄩㄢ [an] [ian] [uan] [yan]
ㄣ 丨ㄣ ㄨㄣ ㄩㄣ [ən] [in] [uən] [yn]
ㄣ 丨ㄣ ㄨㄣ [aŋ] [iaŋ] [uaŋ]
ㄥ 丨ㄥ ㄨㄥ ㄩㄥ [əŋ] [iŋ] [uŋ] [yuŋ]
ㄦ [ɚ]

Note that 丨ㄣ is not [iən] but [in], ㄩㄣ not [yən] but [yn], 丨ㄥ not [iəŋ] but
[iŋ], ㄨㄥ not [uəŋ] but [uŋ] and ㄩㄥ not [yəŋ] but [yŋ].
In actual transcription of syllables, ㄭ is omitted so that 資 zī, 此 cǐ, 四 sì, 知 zhī,
遲 chí, 使 shǐ and 日 rì are transcribed as ㄗ, ㄘ, ㄙ, ㄓ, ㄔ, ㄕ and ㄖ, respectively.
Aside from this, when ㄨㄛ follows ㄅ, ㄆ, ㄇ or ㄈ, the medial ㄨ is omitted so
that 博 bó, 破 pò, 磨 mó and 佛 fó are transcribed as ㄅㄛ, ㄆㄛ, ㄇㄛ and ㄈㄛ,
respectively.
There are four symbols for tones: ̄ stands for the level tone, ́ for the rising tone,
̌ for the falling-rising tone, and ̀ for the falling tone, but the level tone symbol ̄ is
usually omitted:

通 tōng ㄊㄨㄥ 同 tóng ㄊㄨㄥ́ 桶 tǒng ㄊㄨㄥ̌ 痛 tòng ㄊㄨㄥ̀

The neutral tone is represented by the symbol ̇ in Bopomofo:

桌子 zhuōzi ㄓㄨㄛ ㄗ̇ 底下 dǐxia ㄉ丨̌ ㄒ丨ㄚ̇

§2.10 Gwoyeu Romatzyh is another officially publicised system for transcribing


Standard Mandarin, also known as Mandarin Phonetic Symbols (Version 2). Its
compilation is based on the principle that only twenty-odd letters in the Roman
alphabet are used, with no additional symbols. As a result, voiced consonant letters
are used to represent the unaspirated voiceless initials in Standard Mandarin, and
voiceless consonant letters are used to represent the aspirated voiceless initials.
Tones are represented by varied spellings of finals.
30 Standard Mandarin Phonology

The letters representing initials are as follows:

b p m f [p] [p‘] [m] [f]


d t n l [t] [t‘] [n] [l]
g k h [k] [k‘] [x]
j ch sh [tɕ] [tɕ‘] [ɕ]
j ch sh r [tʂ] [tʂ‘] [ʂ] [ʐ]
tz ts s [ts] [ts‘] [s]

That both [tɕ, tɕ‘, ɕ] and [tʂ, tʂ‘, ʂ] use the letters j, ch and sh will not cause conflict
since the two groups match only with ‘narrow’ finals and ‘broad’ finals respectively.
Spelling of finals and tones is listed as follows:

[ɿ, ʅ] [a] [ɤ] [ai] [ei] [au] [ou] [an] [ən] [aŋ] [əŋ] [ɚ]

˥ y a e ai ei au ou an en ang eng el
˧˥ yr ar er air eir aur our arn ern arng erng erl
˧˩˥ yy aa ee ae eei ao oou aan een aang eeng eel
˥˩ yh ah eh ay ey aw ow ann enn anq enq ell
[i] [ia] [ie] [iau] [iou] [ian] [in] [iaŋ] [iŋ]
˥ i ia ie iau iou ian in iang ing
˧˥ yi ya ye yau you yan yn yang yng
˧˩˥ ii ea iee eau eou ean iin eang iing
˥˩ ih iah ieh iaw iow iann inn ianq inq
[u] [ua] [uo] [uai] [uei] [uan] [uən] [uaŋ] [uŋ]
˥ u ua uo uai uei uan uen uang ong
˧˥ wu wa wo wai wei wan wen wang orng
˧˩˥ uu oa uoo oai oei oan oen oang oong
˥˩ uh uah uoh uay uey uann uenn uanq onq
[y] [ye] [yan] [yn] [yuŋ]
˥ iu iue iuan iun iong
˧˥ yu yue yuan yun yong
˧˩˥ eu eue euan eun eong
˥˩ iuh iueh iuann iunn ionq

Obviously, the spelling of syllables in the rising, falling-rising and falling tones is
based on that of the level tone and manifests regular patterns. Therefore, the spell-
ing of syllables in the level tone is the base form of Gwoyeu Romatzyh.
In application, there are three variant rules:

(1) Syllables with initials m, n, l and r use forms in the rising tone for their base;
for the level tone, a letter h is put after the initial, e.g. ma (麻 má) and mha (媽
mā). This is because these initials are used far more in the rising tone than in
the level tone.
(2) ‘Even-teeth’, ‘closed-mouth’ and ‘round-mouth’ syllables in the falling-rising
tone, if without an initial, have a letter y or w before their final as shown in the
Standard Mandarin Phonology 31

table, e.g. yeou (有 yǒu) and woan (碗 wǎn). The first letter in iee and uoo are
replaced with y and w, e.g. yee (野 yě) and woo (我 wǒ).
(3) ‘Even-teeth’, ‘closed-mouth’ and ‘round-mouth’ syllables in the falling tone, if
without an initial, have the first letter i and u in the spelling forms of their finals
replaced by y and w, respectively, e.g. yaw (要 yào), wey (畏 wèi) and yueh (月
yuè). But the letter y or w is added before ih, uh, inn and inq.

The neutral tone is represented by a dot at the lower left side of the syllable, e.g. li.
ba (籬笆 líba) and chow.de (臭的 chòude).
§ 2.11 For representing pronunciation of Standard Mandarin, Westerners almost
always use the Wade System. It was originally invented by Thomas Wade and later
refined by Herbert Giles, hence its common name Wade-Giles system.
The letter and symbols used for initials are as follows:

p p‘ m f [p] [p‘] [m] [f]


t t‘ n l [t] [t‘] [n] [l]
ts ts‘ s [ts] [ts‘] [s]
ch ch‘ sh r [tʂ] [tʂ‘] [ʂ] [ʐ]
ch ch‘ hs [tɕ] [tɕ‘] [ɕ]
k k‘ h [k] [k‘] [x]

Like in Gwoyeu Romatzyh, [tʂ, tʂ‘] and [tɕ, tɕ‘] are represented by a same set of
symbols; in Wade-Giles they are ch and ch‘.
The finals are Romanised as follows:

[ɿ] – zǔ, [ʅ] – ih [a] – a [ɤ] – ê [ai] – ai [ei] – ei


[i] – i [ia] – ia [ie] – ieh
[u] – u [ua] – ua [uo] – o, uo [uai] – uai [uei] – uei
[y] – ü [ye] – üeh
[au] – ao [ou] – ou [an] – an [an] – ên
[iau] – iao [iou] – iu [ian] – ian [in] – in
[uan] – uan [uən] – un
[yan] – üan [yn] – ün
[aŋ] – ang [əŋ] – êng [ɚ] – er
[iaŋ] – iang [iŋ] – ing
[uaŋ] – uang [uŋ] – ung
[yuŋ] – iung

Note the following:


(1) In the case of ‘even-teeth’, ‘closed-mouth’ and ‘round-mouth’ syllables with
zero initials, single vowels i, u and ü are rewritten as yi, wu and yü; medials
i, u and ü are changed to y, w and yü; syllables ui, un and ung are rewritten as
wei, wên and wêng, respectively.
(2) The diacritic of ê can be dispensed with, so ê can be written as e.
(3) uo is used for the [uo] rhyme with [k, k‘, x] as initial; o is used for the [uo]
rhyme with other initials; wo is used when there is no initial.
32 Standard Mandarin Phonology

Tones are marked by superscript numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4 on the right side of a


syllable, e.g. 通 tōng t‘ung1, 同 tóng t‘ung2, 桶 tǒng t‘ung3 and 痛 tòng t‘ung4.
However, tones are usually not marked since Westerners are not used to distin-
guishing among tones.
In common practice, aspiration in the initial is sometimes not marked, either.
Apart from the Wade-Giles System, postal Romanisation is also in common use.
Nevertheless, it is not totally based on Mandarin phonology, so we do not describe
it here.

Notes
1 Translator’s note: This is actually incorrect, as Standard Mandarin is not a natural lan-
guage but an engineered language. Only the sound system of Beijing was used; the gram-
mar was created from a general Northern Mandarin literature by a committee in 1920.
The earlier standard for Mandarin was actually the Nanjing variety. (I am grateful to Prof.
Randy LaPolla for pointing this out.)
2 Translator’s note: Actually [ei] can also occur alone. The character 誒/欸 is pronounced
[ei], taking any one of the four tones.
3 Translator’s note: Termed ‘ascending diphthongs’ in §7 of the Appendix.
4 Translator’s note: The names of the four major tone classes – 平 píng (divided further into
陰平 yīnpíng and 陽平 yángpíng here), 上 shǎng, 去 qù and 入 rù – literally mean ‘level’,
‘rising’, ‘departing’ and ‘entering’, respectively. However, the literal meaning can be mis-
leading because syllables of the píng tone do not necessarily display a level pitch contour
in many dialects, the shǎng tone is not necessarily a rising tone, and qù ‘departing’ and rù
‘entering’ do not really describe pitch effectively. So we only use the pinyin forms píng,
shǎng, qù and rù in the text to indicate that they are simply names of the tone classes. In
description of Standard Mandarin tones, we also use ‘level’, ‘rising’, ‘falling-rising’ and
‘falling’ in translation of 陰平 yīnpíng, 陽平 yángpíng, 上 shǎng and 去 qù tones, as in
§2.8.
5 Translator’s note: There is actually a third type that is found in Beijing Mandarin but
not Taiwan Mandarin: in trisyllabic words, if the middle syllable is in the yángpíng tone
(whether derived or citation), it becomes a yīnpíng tone, e.g. zhāng liánshēng > zhāng
liānshēng and zhǎnlǎnguǎn > zhánlánguǎn > zhǎnlānguǎn. (I am indebted to Prof. Randy
LaPolla for bringing this to my attention.)
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preceding night. The news, such as it was, was good; and they
started immediately with a view to take part in the victory. The details
which Herodotus gives of their movements afford conspicuous proof
of his remarkable excellence as a topographer, though they also
illustrate his limitations as a military historian.
The Greeks at Platæa divided into two bodies; and from the
description which the historian gives of the lines of advance which
they adopted there can be little doubt that, though he does not
mention the fact, they marched respectively on the two places where
H. ix. 69.
fighting was going on. The advance was hurried and
disorderly. The one body was composed of the
Corinthians and those with them—the right centre. It took a line
along the rocky slope of Kithæron and through
THE GREEK
CENTRE.
the hills, along the upper way leading straight
to the temple of Demeter. Its course was
224
evidently along the rocky slope at the south end of the ridge
which intervenes between Platæa and the Island, over the head
225
waters of the streams which form the Island, and then over the
226
open and unimpeded ridges towards the temple. This division of
the Greek centre seems to have reached the Lacedæmonians in
safety, and may even have taken part in the last stages of the
struggle near the temple. The other division, composed of
Megareans, Phliasians, and the rest of the Greek left centre, was not
H. ix. 69.
so fortunate. They took “the most level way through
the plain.” Herodotus is evidently under the impression
that they also were making for the temple of Eleusinian Demeter; but
the course they took, which must have been along the base of the
227
ridge between Platæa and the Island, together with the fact that
they came across the Bœotian cavalry at a time at which it cannot
have been covering the retreat of the medized Greeks,—at a time,
that is to say, at which they were still engaged with the Athenians,—
suggests that they aimed at giving assistance to their friends in that
part of the field, and that the Bœotian cavalry sought, not in vain, to
prevent them from so doing. The conjecture is further supported by
Herodotus’ statement that they were “near the enemy” when the
Theban horse caught sight of them; and that cavalry must
presumably have been engaged at the time in battle with the
Athenians. Their disorderly and hurried advance cost them dear. The
Thebans cut them to pieces, killing six hundred of them, and driving
the rest in headlong rout towards Kithæron.
This was the only disaster which befell any section of the Greek
army on that eventful day. No doubt the Athenians and
Lacedæmonians suffered severely—more severely than the Greeks
ever admitted; but in any case they paid but a cheap price for their
great victory.

H. ix. 63.
Herodotus is fully aware that it was to the
superiority of their weapons that the Greeks owed their
success. “The main cause of the Persian defeat was the fact that
their equipment was devoid of defensive armour. They sought,
exposed as they were, to compete with heavy armed infantry.”
The enthusiasm with which he hails the victory is rare with him.
Salamis left him comparatively cold; but of Platæa he says that there
“Pausanias the son of Kleombrotos the son of Anaxandrides gained
228
the most glorious victory on record.”
The historian was right in thus attributing to Pausanias and his
Lacedæmonians the chief credit of the victory. The decisive conflict
was fought beneath the shadow of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter.
The two defeated bodies of the enemy fled in different directions.
The Persians retreated to their camp, where, thanks to the bravery of
their cavalry in covering their rout, they had time to man the
stockaded portion of it before the Greeks came up. The beaten
Bœotians, on the other hand, fled straight to Thebes, probably
striking the Platæa-Thebes road shortly after recrossing the Asopos.

H. ix. 66.
One division of the Persians, a body of forty
thousand men, under the command of Artabazos,
neither took part in the final struggle nor took refuge in the stockaded
camp. With singular foresight, their commander was strongly
opposed to the attack on the apparently retreating Greeks,
apprehending that it could only end in disaster. He only brought up
his men in time to meet the stream of fugitives from the battle, and
then turned right about and departed without further ado for Phocis.
In the course of the pursuit the
LOSSES IN THE
BATTLE.
Lacedæmonians, as would be expected from
their position in the field, arrived first at the
stockaded camp; but, with that noteable incapacity in the attack on
fortified places which is one of the most striking and least
comprehensible features in Greek military history, they failed to
make any impression on it, until the Athenians, who possessed more
skill in this respect, came up. A successful assault was made, the
Tegeans being the first to enter the stockade. Then ensued a
massacre, in which it is reported that thirty thousand men perished.
H. ix. 82, ad
Plunder, too, of great value fell into the hands of the
init. victors, for Xerxes, in his precipitate flight to the
Hellespont, had left behind him much of the
extraordinary paraphernalia which he, like other Oriental monarchs
of other ages, thought necessary to bring with him on campaign.

H. ix. 70.
It is doubtless the case that the numbers of those
who perished on the Persian side were very large,
though much exaggerated in later tradition. On the Greek side the
losses, as given by Herodotus, were ninety-one Lacedæmonians,
seventeen Tegeans, and fifty-two Athenians. It is evident that this
statement refers only to those who fell in the fighting of the last day
of the battle; but, even so, it may be suspected that there is a
considerable understatement. It is, indeed, the case that, throughout
the history of the fifth and fourth centuries, the losses of Greek
armies in victorious combats against Orientals are singularly small;
but it is hardly credible that on the present occasion, when the
Persian infantry and cavalry fought with all the confidence of
success, that the large mass of their opponents, the majority of
whom were light-armed, lost but ninety-one men in a somewhat
protracted engagement; still less is it credible that the Athenian loss
was so small when matched against an enemy armed like
themselves.
Of the Greeks that took part in the fight, Herodotus considers that
the Lacedæmonians distinguished themselves most, and after them
the Athenians and Tegeans.
Any one who realizes the difficulties which must have faced the
historian of the fifth century when seeking to discover the truth with
respect to the incidents of a battle which had been fought years
before he began even to collect his materials, must admire the
success which Herodotus has attained in his description. At the
same time, that description is of such a nature, and is so manifest in
its limitations, that a careful reader can distinguish without difficulty
the kind of sources from which it is drawn. There is hardly any trace
whatever of any official record lying behind it; it does not even seem
as if the historian drew his information with regard to any one of its
incidents from any one who was acquainted with the design of those
in command. The account, as it stands, seems to be mainly built
upon a foundation of evidence furnished by some intelligent observer
or observers present at the fight in some subordinate position. This
fact would account for the entire absence of any mention of any plan,
strategic or tactical, on the part of the Greek generals. Two motives
continually brought forward for the movements of the Greek force
are the want of water and the damage wrought by the Persian
cavalry; and these are the very motives which would present
themselves to the mind of a Greek soldier to whom the plans
governing the battle were unknown. It is fortunate that sufficient
details of a reliable character have been preserved to make it
possible to see the general nature of the design entertained by those
in command in what was certainly the greatest and most interesting
of the Hellenic battles of the fifth century. But, while the major part of
Herodotus’ narrative rests on the basis of information thus supplied,
there are undoubtedly parts of it which are drawn from traditional
sources. He seems to have interwoven into the main story incidents
drawn both from Athenian and from Spartan, or possibly Pan-
Hellenic traditions; for instance, the tale of the shifting of the
positions of the Athenians and Spartans in the Greek line of battle,
and possibly the tale of Amompharetos, together with passages here
and there which show a bias in favour of some particular element in
the Greek army. But, judged even by modern standard, there is but
little to find fault with in the account, in so far as its fairness is
concerned. The only section of it which shows signs of personal
feeling on the part of the narrator himself, is that relating to the
conduct of the Greek centre after the withdrawal from the second
position. In that case it may be suspected that
SURVEY OF THE
BATTLE.
what has appeared to him the reprehensible
and selfish policy of the Peloponnesian states
in the previous period of the war, has coloured his view of the
conduct of their contingents on this particular occasion. His failure to
appreciate the strategy and larger tactics is in accordance with what
is found elsewhere in his history; and though it renders his narrative
difficult to unravel, it makes the demonstrable accuracy of the tale
which he does tell all the more remarkable.
A battle so great and so important must necessarily excite the
imagination of any student of history. It is hardly an exaggeration to
say that much of the environment of our daily life at the present day
owes its existence to the issue of that struggle in the hollow beneath
the temple of Eleusinian Demeter. Had the great battle turned out
differently, as it so very nearly did, the whole history of the fifth
century might have been altered. Surely it was one of the strangest
battles ever fought; it was indeed more of the nature of a campaign
within an extremely circumscribed area. The operations were spread
over a period of certainly not less than three weeks, reckoning from
the arrival in Bœotia up to the time of the capture of Thebes; and it is
possible even to argue from Herodotus’ narrative that they covered a
period of four weeks. But the most remarkable point with regard to
them is not perhaps their protracted nature, but the extraordinary
variations of success and failure which attended the operations of
either side. It was eminently a battle in which the ultimate success
was due, not to the excellence of the dispositions made by the victor,
but to the mistakes made by the vanquished. Theoretically those
mistakes were hardly greater than those which the victor made:
practically they were fatal.
The Greeks arrived in Bœotia and took up their position with a
general intention of striking at the Persian and his base of operations
along the Dryoskephalæ-Thebes road. Finding this blocked by the
Persian position, they were probably somewhat at a loss as to what
course to pursue next. Opinions were, doubtless, divided as to the
significance of that factor of unknown but suspected value in the
Persian camp, the cavalry, for, owing to its absence at Marathon, the
European Greeks had had no opportunity of testing its effectiveness.
Mardonius was not slow in providing them with an experiment in his
desire to win what would have been a striking success by piercing
the Greek centre, and seizing the pass in its immediate rear, he
made the mistake of using his cavalry against unbroken heavy
infantry in a position which offered exceedingly restricted
opportunities for such an attack, with the inevitable result that his
men were beaten back with considerable loss. There can be little
question that the Greek commanders misread the results of that
experiment, and mistakenly assumed that what had occurred on the
low ground in front of Erythræ gave satisfactory assurance of the
capacity of the Greek army to face the enemy’s cavalry in the plain.
It did not, apparently, occur to them that it was one thing to face that
cavalry in a position where the attack could only be on their front,
and, moreover, on but a small extent of that front, and quite another
thing to meet it on the open plain, where its extreme mobility,
compared with their own immobility, would render it able to assail
front, flank, and rear at the same time.
Their immediate object of attack was Thebes. It is little short of
absurd to suppose that a people such as the Greeks reversed
without cause the whole system on which they had hitherto
conducted the war, and entered Bœotia with a witless lack of design.
Their plan was to force the Persian to retire from Northern
Greece, and from Bœotia first of all, and so to get rid of the danger
which manifestly threatened them, the establishment of a new
frontier of the great Empire within their own borders. If the enemy’s
tenure of Thebes could be rendered impossible, he must retire
northward; and against Thebes therefore their operations were
directly aimed. The fatal weakness of their plan was their lack of
cavalry; but it was the very form of weakness whose significance,
from their lack of experience in that arm, they were least capable of
gauging.
In spite of this, their design in moving to the second position might
have been effective, had they been able to execute it before the
Persians received information of what they were doing. A flank
attack suddenly delivered by the whole Greek
STRATEGY AND
TACTICS AT
army could hardly have failed to lead to
PLATÆA. decisive results. With such an end in view, they
moved along the side of Kithæron, and then,
advancing into the plain, deployed the army in that depression which
229
was hidden from the Persian camp by the northern ridges, so as
to be able to advance in battle array directly upon the Persian right
flank. But on reaching the summit of the Asopos ridge, they found
that their movement had been discovered by the enemy, and that he
had also moved in such a way as to make a flank attack and a
surprise alike impossible. The position was, for the time being,
stalemate; and remained so for at least a week, neither side
venturing on a direct frontal attack. But the situation began to
develop rapidly so soon as Mardonius launched his cavalry against
the short Greek line of communication with the passes. The position
became desperate when he began to use his horsemen in the
effective way in which that excellent Asiatic light cavalry could be
used, to harass the Greek infantry by a form of attack which they
were wholly unable to meet in adequate fashion.
The Greek force was obliged to retire from the Asopos ridge.
Mardonius, if he had only known it, had won the battle, in the sense
that he had rendered impossible all further offensive operations on
the part of the enemy in the plains of Bœotia. He was too eager to
convert the defeat into a rout, when, on seeing that the Greeks had
evacuated their position during the night, he launched the whole of
his infantry against them. The mistake was fatal, irremediable. The
rout of his infantry was such that no effort on the part of his cavalry
could restore the battle; all that it could do was to cover the retreat
as far as the stockaded ramp. Marengo is perhaps the only other
great battle in history which presents so startling a reversal of
fortune. Platæa was lost and won. Truly the Persian was the rock on
which he himself made shipwreck.
With the capture of the stockaded camp the battle ended. Two
Greek contingents arrived on the scene after the fighting was over,
the Mantineans and Eleians. The incident is chiefly remarkable as
showing how extraordinarily difficult it was to instil into the population
of the Peloponnese the necessity of prompt united action against the
common foe. Their delay does not seem to have been due to
cowardice, but to an absolute failure to appreciate the necessities of
warfare waged beyond their own borders, with an enemy who was
prepared to keep the field for an indefinite length of time. Their
disappointment in not sharing in the victory was no doubt genuine
enough,—the Mantineans are even reported to have offered to
pursue the retreating army of Artabazos as far as Thessaly,—but it is
significant for the trustworthiness of Greek official records that the
Eleians, probably owing to their close and friendly relations to Sparta
at this time, got their name engraved on the official lists both at
Olympia and at Delphi of those who had taken part in the battle.

H. ix. 77.
Many tales told by Herodotus of individual exploits
display all the traces of the embellishment of later
tradition. One of them, however, is notable. It may be true, or it may
be an invention, for an Æginetan plays the part of villain in the plot;
but it shows in any case the incorruptible character of a not
unimportant side of Greek civilization. An Æginetan of rank, named
Lampon, is represented as having advised Pausanias to requite on
the dead body of Mardonius the outrages which the barbarians had
inflicted on the corpse of Leonidas after his death at Thermopylæ.
Pausanias’ striking answer lays down the law that, even under
circumstances of the greatest provocation, Hellenic civilization
should never imitate the barbarism of the foreigner. It was, perhaps,
owing to the very vagueness of their ideas as to the afterworld, and
to the prevalence of the old Homeric view that in any case the future
life could be at best but a shadow of the present, that they regarded
the mortality of the body with most touching sympathy. To a people
who lived, enjoyed, and appreciated every moment of their vivid life
amid the light and colour of the East, the dead body, whether of
Greek or Barbarian, was the material presentment of the loss of all
they valued most.
The spoil which the Greeks collected from
AFTER THE
BATTLE.
the Persian camp seemed to them of
enormous value; and Pausanias took special
precautions for its collection, employing the helots alone for this
purpose. If Herodotus is to be believed, these precautions were not
entirely successful; for the Æginetans persuaded the helots to sell
them many of the valuables for a mere nothing, and by that means
acquired considerable wealth. The tale, however, must be read in the
light of after-history, when the long-standing enmity between Athens
and Ægina reached its culminating point.
A tithe of the plunder was dedicated to Delphi, offerings being
also made at Olympia and the Isthmus. It belongs to the romance of
history that, amid the wholesale and irreparable destruction of the
monuments of the great ages of Greece, the most remarkable of the
memorials of the battle survives at the present day. Near the great
altar at Delphi was set up a golden tripod upon a lofty stand of three
entwined snakes, on which was engraved the names of the Greek
states which had sent contingents to Platæa. This most interesting
and most important monument of antiquity still in part remains. The
snake pillar was removed by Constantine to Constantinople. Amid all
the vicissitudes in the subsequent history of the great city it has
survived. It still stands in a mutilated form, the heads of the snakes
having been broken off, exposed, alas! to the weather in front of the
great Mosque of Sultan Achmet.
The burial of those who had died in the battle was next carried
out. The body of Mardonius had vanished—how, no one could say;
but Herodotus thinks that some Greeks had been paid to give it
sepulture, and he knows that many subsequently claimed and
received money from the son of Mardonius for having so done. The
Greek dead were placed in graves, according to their nationality, and
Paus. ix. 2, 5.
centuries later Pausanias saw those graves by the
side of the Platæa-Megara road, just before it entered
the town of Platæa. There are numerous rock-hewn tombs remaining
at the present day in the same locality; and it would seem as if a
cemetery had in later times been established on the ground in which
the heroes of the battle were buried. Among the Spartan dead was
Amompharetos, whose obstinacy had been so largely instrumental in
bringing about the victory. Some of the Greeks, says Herodotus, who
had no dead to bury, owing to the inglorious part they had played,
raised tombs there “for the sake of posterity.” The unfortunate
Æginetans, of whom the historian in this part of his history has no
good word to say, are reported to have caused such a tomb to be
230
raised at Platæa ten years after the event.
The Greeks spent ten days over the distribution of the spoil and
the disposal of the dead. Before leaving Bœotia they determined to
settle the long account standing against the Thebans and the
Bœotians generally. They can hardly be blamed for the bitter feeling
which the policy of that people had aroused in their breasts. The
treason of Bœotia to the national cause had indeed been beyond
forgiveness. From the very outset its attitude had been doubtful and
suspicious, even before the time when the desertion of Thermopylæ
afforded it some excuse for an unpatriotic policy. It is very difficult to
form any certain idea of the motives which prompted the Bœotians to
medize at all in the first instance, and to medize so energetically in
the end. It is probable, however, that from the very beginning the
oligarchs in the various cities, adopting the policy of the feudal lords
in Thessaly, thought that they could best secure the permanence of
their own selfish interests by submission to Persia; and that
subsequently the determination of the other Greeks to make no
attempt to defend the land north of Geraneia caused the mass of the
population to side with a policy which afforded them some possibility
of saving their rich lands from wholesale ruin. The decision once
taken, they displayed at least the merit of thoroughness. Their
medism was by no means passive. They had
PUNISHMENT OF
THE THEBANS.
staked all on the Persian success, and could
expect far less mercy from the Greek patriots
than, as a fact, they actually received. That being so, they remained
faithful to their new allies after Salamis, and showed no disposition to
revolt during that winter of 480–479, while Mardonius was far away
north in Thessaly. It may be that they were acquainted with that
alternative design of conquest whose conjectured existence can
alone account for the strategy of Greek and Persian alike previous to
the battle of Platæa. They had so thoroughly identified themselves
with the invaders, that the success of the Greek in the war might be
expected to prove far more dangerous to them than that of the
Persian. Moreover, public opinion in Bœotia was that of the few
rather than that of the many; and the few evidently conceived that
their interests in the present and future alike were intimately bound
up in the success of Persia, whose Government had shown in its
treatment of the Ionians that it was sufficiently civilized to appreciate
the advisability of ruling Greeks by means of Greeks.
The patriots seem to have recognized that the responsibility for
the treason of Bœotia rested not so much with the whole population
H. ix. 86.
as with its leaders; for they aimed not at a wide
measure of revenge, but at the punishment of those
prominent men who had led the people astray. They marched on
Thebes, and demanded the surrender of the medizing party, and
especially of the prime instigators, Timegenides and Attaginos. The
town was blockaded, but still the Thebans refused to give up the
men; so the wall was attacked and the lands in the neighbourhood
laid waste. On the ninth day of the siege Timegenides proposed that,
in order to save the country, the assailants, if they wanted money,
should be bought off; or, if they persisted in their demand for the
surrender of himself and his fellow culprits, they should give
themselves up, and take their chance of a trial. His hope was,
evidently, that bribery would do its work. The Thebans gave up all
save Attaginos, who escaped. It is a strange commentary on Greek
character that Pausanias did not entrust the prisoners to the
judgment of a pan-Hellenic court, fearing, as Herodotus plainly hints,
that bribery might secure their acquittal, but took them away to
Corinth, where he had them executed. It is, perhaps, a still stranger
commentary on Greek character that a Greek historian should have
dared to insert such a suspicion into an account of what was in many
respects the crowning incident in the national history.
Of the fate of the defeated Persians Herodotus says nothing.
They probably streamed back to Asia in a miserable and ever
H. ix. 89.
diminishing train. Even Artabazos, who made good his
escape, thought it necessary to conceal from the
Thessalians what had happened in Bœotia, and himself suffered
severe losses in a retreat which must have been a counterpart on a
smaller scale of that of Xerxes the year before. He did not venture
along the coast route, but took an inland course, and finally reached
Asia across the Bosphorus by way of Byzantion.

Appendix Note 1.—The Account of the Battle given


by Diodorus.
It is, perhaps, impossible to say from what authorities other than
Herodotus Diodorus drew his account of the battle. We have had
reason to see that, despite his carelessness as to chronological
details, he sometimes displays the merit of having followed valuable
authorities whose original work is not now extant. This is noticeably
the case in his account of Salamis. His narrative of Platæa seems to
rest mainly on the history of Herodotus, together with elaborations
either of his own or taken from his main authority, Ephoros. One
great omission, and his looseness in the treatment of his facts, make
it impossible to accept his evidence, where it differs from Herodotus’
version, as being of historical importance. I do not therefore propose
to do more than tabulate the main points of resemblance and
difference in the two accounts.
(1) He, like Herodotus, says that the first position of the Greeks
was near Erythræ (D. xi. 29).
(2) He represents the Persian force as having been at Thebes
when the news of the Greek advance into Bœotia reached
Mardonius. Herodotus does not say this; but he does, of course, give
an account of a banquet at Thebes somewhere about this time, at
which the principal Persians were present (D. xi. 30).
(3) His account of the first cavalry attack of
ACCOUNTS OF
DIODORUS AND
the Persians differs from that of Herodotus in
PLUTARCH. certain details. He seems to represent the
Athenians as having been the first to be
attacked; but he also represents them as subsequently extricating
the Megareans from their dangerous position.
(4) He mentions, more emphatically perhaps than Herodotus, the
feeling of elation and confidence among the Greeks at the defeat of
the Persian horse and the death of Masistios, whom, however, he
does not name.
(5) He mentions the movement to the second position, his
description of which corresponds very well with what I think must,
from the description of Herodotus, have been the locality of the
second phase of that position.
(6) The rest of his narrative appears to be a version of Herodotus’
account of the last great fight which took place in the course of the
movement to the “Island.” Consequently there is a large gap in his
narrative (D. xi. 30, 31).
Generally speaking, he represents the Greeks as having taken
the offensive in a more emphatic way than we should suppose did
we take the account of Herodotus without reading between the lines
of it.

Appendix Note 2.—The Account of the Battle given in


Plutarch’s “Aristides.”
The account of the operations of the army as a whole, in so far as
it is given, follows closely the account of the same events given by
Herodotus, and is, apparently, largely taken from his narrative. It is
noteworthy, however, that all that Herodotus says relating to the
“Island” is omitted, and a doubt is expressed as to the accuracy of
his statement with regard to the part which the Greek centre played
on the decisive day of the struggle. The reasons given for this doubt
would, however, seem to indicate that Plutarch had not fully
estimated the significance of this part of Herodotus’ story. That
Plutarch did not rely wholly on Herodotus in writing the account of
the operations of the army is shown by his reference to Kleidemos
for an unimportant and not very probable detail (Plut. Arist. 19). Still,
his narrative, in so far as it relates to the events mentioned by
Herodotus, coincides very closely with the account of the latter.
Appendix Note 3.—Note on Platæa.
In the American Journal of Archæology, 1890, p. 460, Mr. Irving
Hunt, who spent some time at Platæa as one of the members of the
American School of Archæology engaged in superintending
excavations on the site of the ruins of the town, has written an
account of the battlefield. A slight map of the field is added at the end
of the volume; it is, however, on a very small scale, and does not
mark any natural features at all save the streams.
Mr. Hunt seems to accept most of the identifications previously
made by Leake; and as these have been already discussed, there is
no reason to refer to them again here. The point, however, in his
paper with which I wish to deal at length is his determination of the
site of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter.
He places it “on high ground south-east of Platæa, where are the
foundations of a large Byzantine church, six minutes’ walk east of
the spring of Vergutiani.” Over the ground to which Mr. Hunt refers,
six minutes’ walk could be at most five or six hundred yards. He says
that it is probable that the trophy erected by the Greeks was near the
temple of Eleusinian Demeter. This was, no doubt, the case. He then
quotes Pausanias (ix. 2, 6), who states that this trophy was fifteen
stades from Platæa, ἀπωτέρω τῆς πόλεως, the comparative of
distance being used, as elsewhere in Pausanias, in a positive sense.
Mr. Hunt says that the ναός of which he speaks is at that distance
from the ruins of the city.
The Vergutiani spring is about 2100 yards from Platæa, therefore
this ναός is about thirteen stades from the city, a discrepancy of
distance which does not render the position impossible.
But when we come to compare the situation of this ναός with the
details in Herodotus, which enable us to fix approximately the
position of the temple of Eleusinian Demeter, some very serious
difficulties arise.
(1) Pausanias had only moved ten stades from the second
position when he waited for Amompharetos in the neighbourhood of
the temple. This site is 4000 yards, i.e. twenty stades, from what is
clearly defined as the second position.
(2) This ναός is on the rocky ὑπωρέη. Also,
TOPOGRAPHICAL
CRITICISM.
from Herodotus’ account, the temple of
Eleusinian Demeter must have been between
the Spartans and the Persian camp. If this, then, coincides with its
site, the Spartans, who must have been south of it, were on ground
on which cavalry could not act, and Herodotus’ account of the
cavalry attack becomes incomprehensible.
(3) A battle in this position must have been within sight of the
Greek centre at the Heræon. Herodotus’ views as to the conduct of
the Greek centre are not such as to render it probable that he would
have implied that the battle took place out of sight of them when in
that position, unless such had actually been the case.
(4) The topographical detail of Plutarch, to which Mr. Hunt refers,
is manifestly unreliable, as has been shown in a previous note.
CHAPTER XII.
MYKALE AND SESTOS.
The complete change from their former strategy on land which the
Greeks had shown by their advance into Bœotia had its counterpart
in the contemporaneous exploits of the fleet Herodotus has already
described, not without rhetorical exaggeration, that dread of the
unknown which kept the Greeks in the Western Ægean, and
prevented them from carrying the war to the Asian coast. But at
some period, presumably in the late summer of this year 479, all this
fear was suddenly dispelled, and in consequence of certain
information given by some Samian refugees, and of an appeal made
by them, it was determined to carry the war into the enemy’s waters.
It is probable that this was by no means the sole definite information
which reached the ears of the European Greeks with respect to the
state of affairs on the Ionian coast. Throughout the whole summer, in
fact ever since Salamis, more or less authenticated reports must
have come to them of the possibilities of the situation in those parts,
which finally confirmed them in the opinion that the time had come
for offensive action. But the message from Samos was very definite,
and brought the news for which the Greeks had long been waiting,
that the Ionians, if supported by the presence of a fleet upon this
Asiatic coast, would revolt. The appeal, moreover, was couched in a
form which stirred the very depths of that peculiar national spirit
which abhorred the idea of the Hellene being any man’s subject.
Hegesistratos the Samian called upon them, “by the gods they all
worshipped, to save Greeks from slavery and drive away the
barbarian.” This Hellenic spirit was, and is, a
A PHASE OF THE
HELLENIC SPIRIT.
very noble thing, noblest perhaps in a peculiar
limitation to which it would be hard to find a
parallel in history. It ever prompted those inspired with it to trade-
venture all the civilized world over,—to colonization which
necessitated indeed an encroachment on the territory of others, but
which never in any single instance aimed at the acquisition of
dominion over the lands or persons of others beyond what was
absolutely requisite for the new plantation. More than this it did not
demand. It knew not land-hunger. All that it postulated was that the
Greek should be free to settle where he liked, in the form he liked,
and with that political freedom which meant so much to him. And so
it is even now. A race, largely alien in blood, has imbibed the very
spirit of the land, and amid the struggles of the last century has
demanded with persistence the rights of freedom for all who bear the
name of Greek, but has never in any single instance sought to
extend its dominions over peoples who cannot claim the Hellenic
name. It was perhaps the very exclusiveness of the spirit which gave
it that pent-up strength which enabled it, under the ægis of the
bastard Hellenism of Macedonia, to establish in a few short years an
influence destined to last for centuries over a wide area of civilization
peculiarly alien to its own.
It is a very noticeable fact in the history of the fifth century that,
neither at this particular time nor later, is there any national idea of
action in Asia aiming at the expulsion of the Persian from regions
wherein the Greek had not settled. Even throughout the history of
Greek action in the whole region of the Mediterranean in the fifth
century only two apparent violations of the spirit are to be met with,
—the Athenian expedition to Egypt, and the aspirations with regard
to Carthage which Aristophanes attributes to the Athenian populace
at the time of the Peloponnesian War. And even these exceptions
are rather apparent than real, aiming, as they evidently did, not at
the acquisition of dominion over others, but at an assault on the
jealous “protectionist” policy of the Phœnician trader.
The summons from Samos was therefore one which was
calculated to stir the inmost nature of those to whom it was
addressed; and sentiment, combined with opportunity, induced the
European Greeks to venture that from which they had shrunk but a
few months before.
Apart from this, it is quite plain that those who directed the great
operations had determined late in the summer of 479 to adopt the
offensive by sea as well as land, should a favourable opportunity for
so doing present itself; and it is a fact of extreme significance for the
study of military history in the historians of the fifth century that no
mention of such a design is found in Herodotus. It is quite evident
that he was seldom, if ever, able to acquire information as to the
plans upon which the operations of the war were carried on.
One of the assertions of the Samian Hegesistratos is striking from
its lack of correspondence with the general evidence on the subject
of the comparative merits of the Greek and Persian ships of this
H. ix. 90, ad
time. He says that the Persians “are bad sailors, and
fin. not capable of meeting the Greeks in battle.” In point
of sailing qualities the reference can only be to the
non-Phœnician portion of the Persian fleet. The Phœnician vessels
of this time were handier and, probably, better handled than the
Greek; and some of the improvements made a few years later by
Kimon in Greek naval architecture were undoubtedly suggested to
his experience by certain points of superiority in the vessels
produced by the skilled shipwrights of Tyre and Sidon.
Hegesistratos was, of course, the advocate of intervention.
H. ix. 91.
Leutychides, the Spartan commander of the Greek
fleet, is represented as having been persuaded by his
advocacy, and to have accepted his offer to accompany the fleet with
the other members of the deputation, in the guise of hostages for the
truth of their assertion. But much must have taken place before this
time to render such a decision on the part of a Spartan commander
possible.
The fleet made straight from Delos to Samos, along the line of
islands. They arrived first at a place in Samos
MYKALE.
called Kalamoi, whose position is not now
known, but which, judging from the story of what took place
immediately afterwards, was probably on the east coast of the
H. viii. 130.
island. The Persian fleet had been stationed at the
town of Samos ever since the beginning of the year,
but now, on the approach of the Greeks, it passed across the
channel to the mainland. For some inscrutable reason,—possibly
because they could not keep it in the Ægean against its will,—the
H. viii. 130.
Phœnician contingent had been allowed to sail away.
The number of ships in the fleet originally stationed
here had been three hundred, but though still formidable in quantity,
it must have been inferior in quality. The Phœnicians had gone; and
the Ionians would have been dangerous allies were a Greek fleet on
the east side of the Ægean. The Persians therefore wished to
decline an engagement, and retired to Mykale, where a large land
army, under the command of Tigranes, placed there by Xerxes’
orders, was watching the Ionian towns. They intended to place the
fleet under the protection of this force, drawing up the ships on
shore, and running a stockade around them. This plan was carried
Strabo, 636.
out. Landing at the mouth of a brook named Guison,
which was on the south side of Mykale, the Persians
Pliny, v. 113, took up their station at a place whose name
etc. Skolopœis suggests that it was derived from the
stockade constructed on this occasion. Herodotus
further adds that there was a temple of Eleusinian Demeter in the
immediate neighbourhood.
The stockade constructed was apparently of a formidable
H. ix. 97.
character, made of wood and stone. Herodotus says of
it that it was prepared alike in view of a siege and of a
victory, referring doubtless to some feature in its design which
cannot now be conjectured.
The retirement of the Persian fleet to this strong position, and its
practical conversion into a land force, placed the Greeks at Samos in
a situation of considerable difficulty. They were, as might be
expected, prepared to contest the supremacy of the enemy by sea
rather than by land; and Leutychides may well have hesitated to
employ the force he had with him for an attack in which the fleet, as
fleet, could play little if any part. It was debated whether, under the
circumstances, they should sail to the Hellespont or return to
Greece. It was finally decided to take the bold course and to assail
the enemy at Mykale, though everything about the fleet was made
ready in case, after all, the Persians should risk a sea-fight.
On their reaching Mykale the enemy showed no sign whatever of
a disposition to put out and meet them. Seeing this, Leutychides in
his own ship sailed close in shore, and sought by means of a herald
to enter into communication with the Ionians in the enemy’s army,
and to persuade them to desert the Persians during the coming
engagement, a policy in which, as Herodotus remarks, he imitated
that of Themistocles at Artemisium. No immediate effect resulting
H. ix. 99.
from this appeal, Leutychides disembarked his troops
without any opposition on the part of the enemy,
presumably, therefore, at some distance from their camp. But
whether owing to Leutychides’ action, or to the distrust of the Ionians
which the circumstances of the time must inevitably have aroused
among the Persians, measures were taken to render them as
innocuous as the situation permitted. The Samian contingent was
forthwith disarmed. The people of that island had rendered
themselves peculiarly open to suspicion by ransoming and
forwarding home five hundred Athenian prisoners which the Persians
had picked up in Attica at the time of Xerxes’ invasion. The Milesians
also were despatched from the camp on the pretext of acting as
guards of the passes over the peaks of Mykale, but really, so
Herodotus says, in order to obviate the danger of keeping them
within the actual fortifications.
The Greeks now advanced to the attack. In reference to this
advance Herodotus mentions a curious tale. He says that a report
ran through the army at this moment to the effect that the Greeks
were victorious over Mardonius in Bœotia. Naturally enough, he
ascribes this strange rumour to supernatural influence, since,
according to his narrative, the two battles occurred on the same day.
It is not perhaps impious to suggest that if, as
A STRANGE
REPORT.
he positively asserts, the battle at Mykale was
fought on the same day as the final
engagement at Platæa, the report which reached the Greek army in
Asia related to the success attained in the first position at Platæa
some weeks before this time, but was referred by later tradition to
the final defeat of Mardonius’ army. However the report arose, it
greatly cheered the Greeks. Herodotus, in speaking of their
exultation, mentions incidentally two noticeable facts with regard to
their feelings at this time. He says that their fear had been not for
themselves, but for the success of the Greeks against Mardonius. If

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