 |
| [a] Zodiacal RF |
 |
| [b] Bigchop RF |
Comment
Note
—"Chop" is the English word (borrowed originally from Malay) for a variety of character combinations, including yinzhang (印章).
25 November 1985
Taipei
The vast majority of the time, Chinese do not use a pen to
write the characters of their names on documents or letters. They use a chop. When
I had to open a bank account in August I, too, had to buy a chop. However, not
being Chinese, and not understanding “chop subculture,” I went downtown and
bought an elaborate soapstone model, complete with a sleeping mother pig and
four piglets carved on top (the pig is the traditional Chinese zodiacal emblem
for those born in 1959, 1971, 1983—every twelfth year). It cost NT $600.00 (US
$15.00), which didn’t seem like much, considering I can use it all my life. So
I reasoned.
When I signed my bank book, a woman I work with started hooting with laughter. She told me that people don’t use those gaudy icons to sign their names; the ones Chinese people use on documents are about a fourth the size of it. It was too late, though. By that time, everybody on the fourth floor of the company had come to take a look at the American’s chop. They talked about it for weeks. To tell the truth, it didn’t seem so big to me until I went out and bought the standard, cheap wooden model that people use everyday. Now I can see what’s so funny. The big ones are used only for special occasions—like signing marriage licenses or international treaties. They aren’t used in bank books.
It wasn’t a total waste of money, however. Everybody has the big kind. After hearing my story, my English student (he is actually a neurosurgeon), went to his office and brought back an armload of chops—large chops, small chops, round chops, curved chops, square chops, chops with ancient characters, and chops with modern characters. Chop, chop, chop. I asked him what he used to sign documents. He took out a standard NT $50 (US $1.25) model. I asked him what he did with all the others. “Show them to foreigners, I guess,” he said.
When I signed my bank book, a woman I work with started hooting with laughter. She told me that people don’t use those gaudy icons to sign their names; the ones Chinese people use on documents are about a fourth the size of it. It was too late, though. By that time, everybody on the fourth floor of the company had come to take a look at the American’s chop. They talked about it for weeks. To tell the truth, it didn’t seem so big to me until I went out and bought the standard, cheap wooden model that people use everyday. Now I can see what’s so funny. The big ones are used only for special occasions—like signing marriage licenses or international treaties. They aren’t used in bank books.
It wasn’t a total waste of money, however. Everybody has the big kind. After hearing my story, my English student (he is actually a neurosurgeon), went to his office and brought back an armload of chops—large chops, small chops, round chops, curved chops, square chops, chops with ancient characters, and chops with modern characters. Chop, chop, chop. I asked him what he used to sign documents. He took out a standard NT $50 (US $1.25) model. I asked him what he did with all the others. “Show them to foreigners, I guess,” he said.
 |
| [c] Chop copse RF |
I have a very nice, pearlescent chop given to me by the Students' English Association at Henan University, as a 'thank you' for getting up and practicing English pronunciation with them at 6:45 am two days of the week. It's not quite as ostentatious as yours, but I generally keep it in my cabinet and show it to Chinese friends when they come visit.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoy reading your "Fieldnotes from History" series, not least because the author is not too different in age from me, and in a setting (geographical and otherwise) not too far removed. Perhaps it's part self-defense then, but I think he does alright in the circumstances.