“Son Goku” vs. “Sun Wukong”: The Challenge of Translating Chinese Names in Japanese Media into English

Let’s say you’re watching an episode of Raven of the Inner Palace in Japanese. Or maybe it’s Thunderbolt Fantasy. A new character appears and introduces themselves, but the voice seems to say one thing and the subtitles another. Is the eponymous heroine Raven “Ryuu Jusetsu” or “Liu Shouxue?” Is the hero of Thunderbolt Fantasy “Shang Bu Huan” or “Shou Fu Kan?” 

They look kind of similar but also not. It feels discordant to read and hear two different things that are supposed to be the same, so you might be wondering why such a decision was made. 

What you’re running into is the legacy of how the Chinese language came to influence the Japanese language.

I am no expert when it comes to to Chinese-Japanese linguistic history, but I believe I can sum it up very briefly as follows. The Japanese language originally did not have a writing system, eventually began importing Chinese between the 3rd and 7th centuries AD to deal with that problem despite the fact that the language structures are dramatically different. Japanese began to use Chinese written characters (kanji), in some cases choosing to adopt Chinese pronunciations of words as well. Yet, because the languages are so far apart in fundamental ways, these pronunciations had to be approximated. The word for wood (木) was pronounced as muk in Chinese (specifically what’s called Middle Chinese by linguistic scholars), but due to the lack of ending consonants in Japanese, this became moku. Such onyomi, as the Chinese-approximate pronunciations came to be known, were codified into Japanese and are still used today.

But the Chinese languages continued to transform in China, and many pronunciations changed over the centuries. Various factors, from the rise and fall of dynasties to physical barriers creating pockets and enclaves of peoples meant that not only did the language end up different from its 7th century form, but also resulted in regional variations that can often be mutually unintelligible. While the Cantonese word for “wood” retains the “k” sound at the end (similar to how it was said in Middle Chinese), Mandarin Chinese (what is today the official language of China and the most common throughout the world) pronounces it as mu. This is because most of the ending consonants disappeared from Mandarin.

So when you have a hero or heroine with a Chinese name in an anime, that name can generally be written in Japanese through kanji. But when it comes to pronouncing these kanji, the default in Japanese is to use the old onyomi pronunciations. This is why Sun Wukong becomes Son Goku, and why Kongming (like in Ya Boy, Kongming!) becomes Koumei. But then, if these characters are ethnically Chinese or have origins in Chinese stories, might it be better to write their names out as if they were being pronounced in Chinese? The question is whether an anime based on Chinese culture should go Chinese -> Japanese -> English with names, or make it Chinese -> English. And if it’s a manga or novel, and there is no issue of text and audio disagreeing, is it still an issue?

There are many other factors that can complicate this decision. While many anime and manga are set in China, some series take place in a world that is merely Chinese-folklore-inspired. Twelve Kingdoms, for example, is a fantasy series where all the countries have names that would make sense in China, but would translating the names into Chinese be too far removed from the source material, given that the series is originally Japanese and the world of the Twelve Kingdoms isn’t technically China? And even if a story is set in China, what if it takes place in the 5th Century AD or any other time when even “official” Chinese sounded substantially different from its modern form? Or what if a story takes place in a region of China where Mandarin Chinese isn’t the dominant form? What if there’s a Chinese character living in Japan, and everyone pronounces their name as if it’s Japanese but they refer to themselves internally with their Chinese pronunciation? In English, we’re increasingly at a point where the right thing to do is to respect the person’s own desire for how to pronounce their name, but the context of onyomi in Japanese complicates that decision.

The toughest thing is that there is no right or wrong answer because it’s not even a matter of Japanese vs. English but rather Japanese vs. English and the point at which to insert the inherent Chinese cultural aspect into a translation. Whatever choices are made, it‘s important to understand that “accuracy” and “faithfulness” are not so simple. 

(Happy New Year!)

Here’s Your Reminder to Watch Thunderbolt Fantasy

This originally began as a review of Thunderbolt Fantasy Season 3, only for me to realize that I never reviewed Season 2 after talking up Season 1. Between that fact and an official confirmation of the next part, I’ve decided to just write about why Thunderbolt Fantasy is still one of the best shows ever. Every time a new season comes out, it is a must-watch

Thunderbolt Fantasy is an Asian-fantasy puppet-theater TV show, and is a Japanese/Taiwanese co-production featuring writer Urobuchi Gen (Madoka Magica) and the Taiwanese company PILI International Multimedia. There has long been a debate as to whether it should be considered “anime,” but I think it qualifies in spirit, if not entirely in letter. Just the openings alone convey an energy that’s hard to match

Opening 1:

Opening 2:

Opening 3:

While I’m not typically into puppets, and have no particular attachment to series like Thunderbirds or StarFleet, Thunderbolt Fantasy just succeeds on so many different levels, from the witty dialogue to the charismatic characters to the overall plot to the exciting visual presentation to the catchy music. Season 1 is overall one of the greatest viewing experiences I’ve ever had, and while there’s something magical about that first story that the sequels have never quite reached, they still get incredibly close. Even when one aspect of the series falters, though, the other factors run on all cylinders. I’m never not entertained while watching. Crucially, Thunderbolt Fantasy continues to deliver on the big moments, and it’s amazing at building up suspense and then delivering a satisfying payoff. 

Thunderbolt Fantasy truly feels like a series that never fails. Even when you think there’s a moment where it jumps the shark, it ends up going so far beyond expectations that the shark jumps over the rider instead. If you haven’t watched it already, I highly recommend starting as soon as possible. It’s an unforgettable experience.

Master of Puppets: Thunderbolt Fantasy

The latest great anime isn’t even animated. Thunderbolt Fantasy is a Japanese-Taiwanese co-production that is best described as a puppet show that combines Wuxia martial arts, fantasy anime, and tokusatsu. As someone who doesn’t watch that many martial arts films, isn’t terribly into Super Sentai or Kamen Rider, and was never a big fan of old action-oriented puppet shows like Thunderbirds, it surprises me that this series has actually become my favorite of the season.

I’ve been thinking of Thunderbolt Fantasy as a kind of 2.5D show. It has a lot of the flash and flair of anime, and one might even say the detail-oriented anime-inspired games such as BlazBlue, but of course it’s all intricate puppetry, miniature set design, with a smattering of CG special effects. What strikes me about the series is that the standards by which one judges the quality of a show like this doesn’t quite fit into the criteria of anime or live-action series. It’s not like there’s “animation quality” to consider, or the idea that the series might be cheaping out during dialogue scenes. Because they’re puppets, it’s not like typical notions of “good acting” necessarily apply either. It ends up falling somewhere along the lines of a tokusatsu show, or perhaps even pro wrestling, where subtleties are conveyed through exaggerated gestures.

As a result, I find that while the fight scenes are intense and entertaining, even entire episodes of characters standing around and talking to each other have much to be impressed by. When the characters are speaking, their mannerisms come out in the puppets’ actions. When they’re fairly stationary, then that invites the opportunity to really admire how amazingly the puppets are designed. The show just has a lot to visually chew on, and that’s on top of charismatic characters, a story that moves at a brisk yet comfortable pace, and interesting lore.

Another aspect of the series I’ve been considering is the idea that Japanese animation has sort of come full circle with Thunderbolt Fantasy. Some of the earliest attempts at Japanese animation were more akin to puppet shows. The late director Ishiguro Noboru (Yamato, Macross) was influenced by Czech puppet shows, while the also-late director Nagahama Tadao had his start in puppet theater as well. However, I’m saying this not just because Thunderbolt Fantasy utilizes puppets, but also because so much of its aesthetics comes from contemporary hyper-stylized anime akin to Madoka Magica or Fate/Zero. This shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, as the co-production is by Nitro Plus, creators of those two series, as well as Good Smile Company, creators of Nendoroids and Figmas.

The last piece of the puzzle is PILI International Multimedia, the Taiwanese company that actually makes the show. I don’t know nearly enough about them yet, so I don’t want to just spout nonsense. That being said, the making-of episode on Crunchyroll is very insightful, and it makes me want to learn more.

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