Erlangen 91052 (12)—Everyday Words: Tchüß!

Click here for the introduction to the Round and Square Series "Erlangen 91052"
Click here for the "Erlangen 91052" Resource Center—All Posts Available 
One year ago on Round and  Square (9 April 2013)—China's Lunar Calendar 2013 04-09
Two years ago on Round and Square (9 April 2012)—La Pensée Chinoise: Primitive Classification
Three years ago on Round and Square (9 April 2011)—Exilic Response: Introduction

[a] The end (for now) RF

I had to make a little trip yesterday to the customs center in the little village of Tennenlohe, positioned between Erlangen (91052) and Nuremberg. A package was waiting for me, and it contained a bunch of old books that I purchased in the 1980s and 1990s. I was told that in the "old days," just a few years ago, I could have sent approval for them to open the box; they would then send it on to me at my office. No more. Now I have to take the Stadtbus 295 to Tennenlohe Frauenweiherstraße...thirty minutes through woodlands and outskirts before finally arriving in the middle of what looks like a parking lot. Could this be right?

Yup.

[b] See ya! RF

I walked into a nondescript building that made no mention of Deutsche Post, and just had a small four letters—Zoll (in this instance, "customs." I knew this was right, but the place did not seem particularly welcoming. I walked through the doors, went to the wrong window, was pointed to the correct office, and arrived to find a big, young, burly, Germanic guy with one of the warmest smiles I can remember. I handed him the letter that "he" had sent me. He set that one aside and picked up the next page—the customs slip that my wife had filled out when she sent me the books. That was what he needed. All seemed to be going well as he retrieved the box and set it in front of me.

"Invoice?"

"Huh? I bought the books twenty years ago. I don't have the receipts anymore."

"Invoice?"

"As I said, these are old books. They are from my office." This went on for some time before I blurted the following: "My wife put them into the box and mailed them to me from Virginia." "Oh!"...and everything was o.k. It turned out that she wasn't a used books seller, and all was well. "Open the box and show me the contents." Done; done. "Tape it back up; you are finished."

[c] Partin' Machine RF

I taped the box, nodded kindly to the now-stern-now-warm big-guy, and prepared to leave the office with my haul of academic platinum. As I neared the portal and prepared to disappear into the hallway, I heard one of the most familiar words in Germany today (it has been so for several decades). 

Tschüß!

I turned around and repeated tschuß!, and we parted as happy customs-companions.

***  ***

So, if you thought that this post would be about packaging, shipping, and customs-customs, you would be mistaken (like a Simpsons episode, we start with a twist). It is rather about the big, burly, bubba-guy who seemingly changed personality when it was time to bid adieu.

That's the story of my life here in Erlangen 91052. 

"Goodbyes" matter, and for serious social-theoretical reasons that will help us conclude this essay. For now, just know that if you gained your linguistic knowledge of goodbye! from The Lawrence Welk Show's channeling of the von Trapp family singers, you will have big problems here in Erlangen 91052 in 2014. 

Lawrence Welk Goodbye! 2:34

[d] Tschuß! RF

I will not speak (now) to the other languages, but let's just get this clear. The auf wiedersehen that you hear from the cherubic singers on the Lawrence Welk Show...never gets said here. Oh, I exaggerate you say? Come spend a week with me. I dare you to "hear it." But isn't that what Blickpunkt Deutschland "said" I should "say" in high school German? I'm pretty sure that's what "they said."

Nope, now it's tschüß!, and this didn't happen just yesterday. I first encountered the phrase in a cassette tape series I checked out of the Madison Public Library in 1998, so I am not claiming that it is "new." On the other hand, I do know that my high school and college German in the late-1970s and early-1980s never had tschuß! in them. You don't believe me? I am looking right now at my soiled copy of German in Review right now—one of the books that was in the precious package I received just yesterday. Nope, nein, nichts.

Tschüß! doesn't appear in there once. Not even once.

So what happened?

Well, that will require a follow up post, and a little bit of fieldwork (look for it in late-March). For now, however, I want to emphasize the ubiquity of the term. I use it in parting at Kaufland, at my local tobacco store (where I buy my weekly copy of Die Zeit, not tobacco), after a brief conversation on the bus, when I leave my favorite zaiten sushi restaurant, and almost every day when I lock my office door at what we call the IKGF (Internationales Kolleg für Geisteswissenschaftliche Forschung), and speak my parting words to colleagues before walking the two pastoral blocks back to my apartment on Carl Thiersch Straße in Erlangen 91052.

[e] Headin' Out RF

Tschüß!

And that is why I find this little "bye-bye" so interesting. It is fascinating in a(n) historical sense, of course, and our follow-up post will investigate what people have to say about the "development" of the term in the last thirty years. This is not your...Lawrence Welk's...Germany anymore. That is for a later day, though.

For now, let's consider what I think is really most interesting about this little parting ejaculation. It's one of the most florid words in all of social theory (not to mention country music). Goodbye isn't just "language." It certainly isn't a tiny little final aside in the back-and-forth of purchasing, question-asking, or conversing in a dynamic social dyad. It is the very moment when the teeming vivacity of dialogue (or more) makes the cut-off toward parting—toward severing the social dynamic. 

The sound of goodbye.

And "parting" is such an indispensable part of social interaction that we need to focus our gaze keenly in that direction. Do we do this often enough? No, we don't. We tend to see the "meat" (or "meet") of the interaction in terms of what is happening in it. Unless we spend a lot of time listening to Patty Loveless or Hank Williams, we are most likely to think about the middle of the interaction. I am saying that we need to focus on the end—on how we say (in words and actions and gestures) "goodbye."

[f] Ending RF

The "sense of an ending" has everything to do with how people associate. You can't spell "meeting" without "time"...ing, and (aside from introductions, which we will consider later), nothing packs a mnemonic, historical, and emotional punch like the sound of goodbye. And let's not even kid ourselves. Auf wiedersehen (see you again!) does not compress phonemes and letters into as evocative an utterance as tschüß!

Think about it, and we'll return to this topic next week (I can't let it go, and because it is probably in a punch-match with genau for the most common word in German social life. People have opinions about it, and (as we will see on Tuesday), there is a varied world between danke...tschüß! and schöne abend...tschüß!...and auf widersehen.

Are they subtle? No, not really. They're all about goodbye.

Pierre Bourdieu will help us as we expand our parting struggles next week. 

We will consider history, culture, fieldwork, archives...and everyday experiences in Erlangen 91052.

NEXT
Tuesday, 4 March 2014
Erlangen 91052 (13)—Everyday Words: Tschüß! (b)
The word has a history, and it will take historical (and ethnographic) inquiry to begin to understand it. 

[g] Auf Wiedersehen! RF

Hurtin', Leavin' and Longin' (34)—Country-Western Holiday

Click here to read the introduction to the Round and Square series "Hurtin', Leavin', and Longin'..."

[a] Jagged RF

In the spirit of the holidays, I have chosen five songs by country-western artists (the last has been featured on this blog before, but certainly went far beyond the genre as the 1950s turned into the 1960s). The number five is hardly here by chance. Classical Chinese cosmology teaches that everything is made up of fives. When I teach students how to think about this challenging concept, I always stress the way in which the "five directions" (add "center"), the "five mountains," or the "five colors" are meant to represent the whole—everything. I would be getting just a little too technical if I spent much time stressing that they do more than "represent" everything. In a special sort of cosmic way, they are meant to be everything. The five mountains are the mountains. The five colors are color. And so forth.

[b] Cosmology RF

If you are wondering where this is going, I want to stress the ancient Chinese idea of the "five seasons." The five seasons (add "center") are the year, and each is its own little self-contained whole of wonder. That is the theme for today's holiday songs. They're all country...sort of. They're all about the holidays...sort of. And they're all, well, cosmic. Sort of.

Take a listen to my pentalogy of songs. They aren't particularly sad, and you should be grateful that I left out a few miserable gems that would have broken your holiday spirit and left your celebrations in tatters (not taters). I have a heart, it turns out (just search "Merle Haggard December") if you want to know where this could have gone).

In any case, we head from Tex to Gene to Loretta, and wrap it up with Patty and the King. They are all about seasonality and a little about Christmas. It is perhaps not going to shock readers of Round and Square that a certain "approach" to the season dominates (there are not very many songs about the holidays that focus on, let us say, other world religious traditions).

Still, these songs should be an enjoyable mix of everything (the "five holiday songs"), and give a pretty good feel for the whole of this time of year.

Tex Williams

The Winter Song 2:07

Gene Autry, on the other hand, has a distinctly regional and cultural form of merriment to share. Note, as well, that there is nary a hint of "y'all" in the lyrics. Gene went Hollywood with his enunciation, it seems.

Gene Autry 

Merry Texas Christmas, You All 2:42

Since Gene Autry brought up one of the major holidays of the season, we'll keep the focus briefly there but zoom out, as it were, to a distinctly wider spatial configuration. "Country" is a lot bigger than "Texas," at least unless you look at the map on Autry's song on the video you just watched. There, the Texas panhandle stretches ever northward, and Amarillo makes it (by morning) into Manitoba. Loretta Lynn channels Coal Miner's Daughter as she tells us all about what Christmas is like in "country."

[c] Frozen RF

Loretta Lynn

Country Christmas 2:16

We vault forward and backward with our last two songs. Patty Loveless plays upon color imagery and seasonality in a way that would make a Chinese fortune-teller envious. The combination of blue, white, grass, snow, and bluegrass is perfect, and never has there been a better country singer surname than Patty's.

Patty Loveless

Bluegrass, White Snow 3:23

We bring it home on this holiday season of Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Islamic New Year (actually in November this year) with the incomparable King. There is a double-coated veneer of sadness in this song, and I always like to think that it is transferable to any holiday tradition, anywhere in the world (it'll be a blue...lunar New Year...without you). In China, they might have called Elvis the "Son of Heaven" (天子) instead of "king" (王) but the idea is basically the same. He's big, and he crosses musical genres.

Elvis Presley

Blue Christmas 2:14

Elvis Presley

Blue Christmas (Live, 1968) 2:38

NEXT
Sunday, January 1, 2012
We'll start the year out right with a nice dose of measured misery. We'll work back cautiously into full-scale emotional pain, so next week will require only a half-box or so of tissue.

[d] Blue RF

Hurtin', Leavin' and Longin' (15)—Pocket Full of Gold

Click here to read the introduction to the Round and Square series "Hurtin', Leavin', and Longin'..."

[a] Pocketful  RF

I know that I say this every week, but this one is depressing. The thing about these Hurtin' lyrics, though, is that they (I think Tolstoy said something along these lines) are all miserable in their own specific ways. Well, this one is all about cheatin', and it aint' pretty.

It starts out with what one sleazy guy can get away with, but it soon leads to a tumble of broken lives. This cheating song has a twist, too. The cheater is going to get what's coming to him (with more broken lives implied beyond the devastation). It is not the average cheating song that has a tombstone in its rearview mirror. 

It must also be said that Vince Gill (one of the most consistently likeable people in Nashville) throws in an odd line that reverts to the kind of patriarchal tribalism of the desert...and the backwoods. You'll hear it if you listen, and if you have some feminist gumption in your listening gear (regardless of gender), you might, like me, be  a little bit annoyed. It's a great and painful song, though, and the powerful duet of Gill and Loveless makes it all the more rich.

Pocket Full of Gold  4:21

Pocket Full of Gold (Gill/Loveless)  3:57

For advice on how best to "engage" the lyrics, click here.

Pocket Full of Gold

—Vince Gill (Patty Loveless)

Brian Allsmiller, Vince Gill 

He slipped the ring off his finger
When he walked in the room
And he found him some stranger
And promised her the moon
How many lies you must have told
You think you're a rich man
With your pocket full of gold

For another man's treasure
You'd say anything
But is one night of pleasure
Worth the trouble you'll bring

Don't look so surprised
'Cause son I should know
I once was a rich man
With my pocket full of gold

Some night you're gonna wind up
On the wrong end of a gun
Some jealous guy's gonna show up
And you'll pay for what you've done
What will it say on your tombstone
Here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold

Yeah, here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold

There is no precise equivalent in Chinese poetry to a cheatin' theme like this one. You can page through the Complete Tang Poems and the Complete Song Lyrics (I just did, and it took the better part of a day, even at whirlwind pace) without finding the kinds of phrases sung by Vince Gill and Patty Loveless. But that, of course, has never been the objective of the juxtaposed poems in Round and Square's Sunday Hurtin' posts. The point is to perceive the themes we have just confronted in a new way—through a different lens, as it were. Li He's poem about a high-end brothel does have some resonance with Vince Gill's song (especially the image of the dashing young man with his pocket full of green quartz encrusted whip). It is different in profound ways, though, and that should tell us as much about poetic contrasts as one-to-one comparisons.

       Li He
       Pleasures of the Night
          Red silk lines the chamber curtains, their tassels fringed with gold;
          A chased candelabra's nine branches are hung with figures of carp.
          Gorgeous girls, shimmering in the moonlight, unfasten the ringed latch;
          They serve up spring freshets of wine from a gibbon-shaped jar.

[b] Guesthouse (Ma Lin)  PD

          The price is dear—a casket of incense, ten sticks;
          Gold nuggets (pink "melon-seeds" and dark "bran-meal");
          A green jade duck, with a cover worked in five colors—
          But A Hou requires these gifts with a measureless wealth of smiles!
          Over her south rooms, when heaven's river recedes, shadows fade from blinds;
          Crows call from the tung groves, snug in nests with their young.
          The fine sword and whip he carries are crusted with green quartz and pearls;
          His white steed snorts froth that congeals on the frosty mane.
          As the water clock brims, she sends jade pendants off to Ch'eng Ming Lodge;
          The storied pleasure house looms high, lonely in the moonlight.
          The next guest dismounts as the old guest goes;
          And again she touches up jet brows, combs her shining dark coiffure.[1]
                                                                    —Translated by Maureen Robertson

[1] Wu-chi Liu and Irving Yucheng Lo, Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry (Bloomington IN: Indiana University Press, 1974), 229-230.

Bibliography
Liu Wu-chi and Irving Yucheng Lo. Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry. Bloomington IN: Indiana University Press, 1974.

NEXT

Sunday, August 14th 
Cheap Whiskey
We spiral further into drink and despair next week, with the smell of cheap whiskey...and the sound of goodbye.

Hurtin', Leavin' and Longin' (13)—Nothing But the Wheel

Click here to read the introduction to the Round and Square series "Hurtin', Leavin', and Longin'..."

[a] Night  RF

Driving and memory. Driving away a memory. These are concepts that we accept as almost second nature, but many hours of country music (not to mention other lyric forms) attest to the fact that it doesn't work all that well. We have already explored some of these themes on Round and Square. This week, we have the miserable pleasure of hearing one of the best country artists ever to pick up a guitar—with the exquisite name of Patty Loveless—driving away (from) a broken dream. Take a listen, and note the imagery, from "driv(ing) you off my mind" to the almost perfect title line.

Nothing But the Wheel Video  4:09
For advice on how best to "engage" the lyrics, click here.

The songwriter, John Scott Sherrill, has written a stimulating array of lyrics for a varied set of artists. This one links the music with the lyrics in surprising ways that recall the origins of the Chinese verse form called "lyric" (詞). The peculiar blend of instrumentality, rhythm, and words can be seen in the lines below, and I can almost imagine Sherrill and Loveless working out the details over heated plum wine in a thirteenth century Nashville in southern China.

Nothing But the Wheel

—Patty Loveless

(John Scott Sherrill)

Way on past the boulevards
Out here underneath the stars
I've been flying past the houses, farms and fields
Leaving all I know back there
Rushing through the cold night air
And I'm holding on to nothing but the wheel

Staying clear of the interstate
I'm seeking out those old two lanes
Trying to explain the way I feel
Till all at once it's half past three
And it's down...to just the trucks and me
And I'm holding on to nothing but the wheel

I've been trying to drive you off my mind
Maybe that way baby I can leave it all behind
And forty-one goes on and on
And the lights go winding in the dawn
The sky's the color now of polished steel
And the only thing I know for sure
Is that you don't want me anymore 
And I'm holding on to nothing but the wheel

And the only thing I know for sure
Is that you don't want me anymore 
And I'm holding on to nothing but the wheel

I'm holding on to nothing but the wheel

[b] Foremost

It will not be surprising that there are no precise analogies to driving a memory away (in a car) in Chinese lyric poetry. The possibilities for rich juxtaposition are everywhere, though, and it was not easy to arrive at a final choice. Note both the similarities and the contrast in the poem below. Li Qingzhao (1083-1151), is often referred to as China's foremost "woman" poet. I like to think of her as one of China's best poets, period. She also has a warm spot in my heart because I am especially attached to the eleventh century (she was born in it)...the world over. This poem provides a wonderful contrast with the Loveless (note the irony) song. If you learn a little about Li Qingzhao's biography, the contrasts and resonances are deeper still. Take a look at "Spring at Wuling."

          To the Tune of: Spring at Wuling
          (Li Qingzhao 1083-1151)

          The wind dies down—a smoky fragrance
                    of freshly fallen flower petals
          It is already evening—too exhausted even
                    to comb my hair
          Matters of the world remain—but he is gone;
                   everything is gone
          Wanting to speak, tears begin to flow


          I have heard that springtime at Paired Streams 
                  is as beautiful as ever
          I wish I could board a light boat
          I only fear that at Paired Stream
                    my little "grasshopper" boat
          Would be unable to move 
                    beneath my bundles of despair.[1]

武陵春 
李清照 (宋)
風住塵香花已盡
日晚倦梳頭
物是人非事事休
欲語淚先流
聞說雙溪春尚好
也擬泛輕舟
只恐雙溪舴艋舟
載不動許多愁

 

 [1] Li Qingzhao. "Wuling chun" [武陵春]. Quan Songci [全宋詞] Translated freely by Robert André LaFleur.


Bibliography
Li Qingzhao. "Wuling chun" [武陵春]. Quan Songci［全宋詞］

NEXT
Sunday, July 31
Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old) 
All the cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole. Garth's much too young to feel this damn old.