Jim Breen’s WWWJDIC has got everything. You can look up characters by counting the number of strokes in them. You can type out a Japanese word phonetically, with roman letters, or in Japanese, if you happen to know how to make your computer write in Japanese. You can look words up in the general Japanese-English dictionary, or one of many other dictionaries – including automotive, Japanese-Slovenian, and river & water systems.

I use this dictionary for reading e-mails from my Japanese choir. I’ve been singing for a few months with the Japanese Choral Society of Washington (oh hey, I’m in the picture that’s on the homepage right now). During rehearsal, I’m ok – I can mostly follow what’s being said. It helps that I do a lot of choral singing and have a good idea of the kinds of things that conductors say. But a lot of important information gets transmitted by e-mail. It is so handy to be able to just cut and paste the words I don’t know into the dictionary.

I got a whole string of e-mails today from the group. One, about a potluck after rehearsal next week,contained the lovely word 帰国. The first character means “return” and the second means “country,” so together it means “go back to your country” – part of the occasion for the potluck is that a choir member is going back to Japan. It’s pronounced “kikoku.”

If you cut and paste that into the dictionary, you get a whole list of definitions. The first one is the word you looked up. Then there’s also compound words it appears in, like 帰国セール, kikokuseiru (sale), to sell your belongings before returning to your country, or 帰国子女枠, kikokushijowaku, special consideration for students who have lived abroad. Each entry has the word, the pronunciation, definition, a recording of someone saying it, and a string of links. Here are the ones for 帰国:

[V][Ex][G][GI][S][A][W] [JW]

Each of those looks up 帰国 in a different database – V takes you to all the ways you can conjugate 帰国 as a verb (I didn’t know I knew the hortative, but apparently I do), Ex is a list of sentences using 帰国, G is google, GI is google images, S is an online Japanese-Japanese dictionary, A is a Japanese-English online dictionary (for Japanese people), W is Japanese Wikipedia, and JW is some kind of Japanese word database.

The WWWJDIC doesn’t have the most beautiful interface, but it sure does a lot of stuff. I’m pretty sure I’ve only discovered a tiny corner of it, but I am very grateful to it for helping me read my e-mails.

Oh wow, yeah, I just came across this, for example: an interface that lets you handwrite a kanji with the mouse while the computer guesses what you’re going for.

Dictionary Stats: Jim Breen’s WWWJDIC

date: predates the world wide web; constantly updating
publisher: Jim Breen seems to be the guy; Monash University in Australia hosts the dictionary (he’s retired from the Electronic Dictionary Research Group)
other languages: Japanese – German, French, Russian, Swedish, Hungarian, Dutch, Spanish, Slovenian
amusing entry from FAQ: “[Q] I can’t read the kana readings. Will you add romaji display as an option.
[A] No. Better to learn kana. It will only take a week or two.”
insight from FAQ: “Remember that it is really a Japanese-English dictionary, and you have to take your chances with English-Japanese.”
obscenities: Yup. I can only remember one rude word in Japanese (糞), but it’s in there.

P.S. I know, I know, the Dictionary of the Week is now more like the Dictionary of the Quarter. It took a little hiatus. I don’t know if it’s back for good now or just dropping in.

When you’re looking Japanese words up in dictionaries, you really need “ga” to come right after “ka” and “do” right after “to.” You know, the natural order of things. What? This order is not intuitive to you? Well, let me explain.

The sounds in Japanese are syllables made up of a consonant (usually) and a vowel. Within each set of syllables, the order is a i u e o (“ah ee oo eh oh”), and then each set starts with a different consonant sound. The sets are ordered a, ka, sa, ta, na, ha, ma, ya, ra, and wa.

But then some of those consonant sounds can be altered. So か makes the sound ka, but if you put two little marks on it, it makes が, which is ga. Same for き ki and ぎ gi, こ ko and ご go, etc. If you put the little marks on the た ta-characters, they become the だ da-characters. The さ sa family becomes ざ za, and the  は ha family has two alterations – the little marks make ば ba, and a little circle makes ぱ pa.

A lot of those are pairs of related sounds, which I didn’t realize until I studied Japanese and noticed that I couldn’t always hear the difference between k and g. If you don’t know which you heard, it’s much easier to look up both “kakkou” and “gakkou” if they’re right next to each other than if one of them is in the G’s and one is in the K’s.

So, once you have the alphabetical order down, you can use this dictionary. Of course, most Japanese words are actually written in Chinese characters, but you look them up in the dictionary by sound. The Chinese characters are given first in the entry, like this, for “tenshuu”: “てんしゅ 天主 the Lord.” You need the characters to distinguish it from “てんしゅ 店主a shopkeeper.” (One is the master of heaven; the other is the master of a store.)

This dictionary is a lot less useful for going from English to Japanese. Say you look up the word “dictionary.” Here’s what it will tell you: 辞典. Good luck figuring out how to pronounce that. Better to wing it: “You know, the book? And it has words? Many words? Japanese, and English, too? Both?” Sometimes I would look a word up, then show the entry to the person I was trying to talk to, but this only works if they have their reading glasses on them.

As with so many of my dictionaries, I have no idea where this one came from. I suspect a used book store or a friend…it was published in 1990, and I think it was probably well-loved before I got it. Oh, hey – it has the price “6.75″ written on the inside front cover, which means I got it at a used bookstore in the U.S. on one of my trips back for grad school interviews. Nice.

This dictionary’s service didn’t end when I left Japan. I’d relied on it for so long, and I wasn’t ready to let go of my Japanese life yet. I carried it in my bag for months after I moved back to the U.S. in 2000.

So one day that fall I was sitting with a new grad school friend in front of the campus bookstore at Stanford. Some guy came by and gave us t-shirts advertising bigwords.com, a textbook seller that apparently still exists – wow, what are the chances? Anyway, the t-shirts all had big words on them. Mine said “coruscant.” Neither of us knew what that meant, but I pulled out my Japanese dictionary, and it came through! It defined “coruscate” as ピカッと光る, which is a totally cute definition. The Webster’s on my shelf gives the accurate but boring “to give off flashes of light; glitter; sparkle.” Sanseido’s definition translates as “light up, like, ‘peekah’!”

Japanese is adorable – onomatopeia for everything. More on that later.

Dictionary Stats: Sanseido’s Daily Concise English Dictionary

date: 1990
publisher: Sanseido
editor: 宮内秀雄 (I’m not going to put money on it, but I think his name is Miyanaka Hideo or, in Western order, Hideo Miyanaka)
length: 1264 tissue-thin pages
guide words on p. 381: でんきうなぎ 電気鰻 an electric eel. てんじゅ 天授の sacred; gifted by nature.
up-to-date-ness: The map of Europe on the inside front has one Germany (thumbs up) but also one Yugoslavia (uh-oh) and one Soviet Union (oh dear).
useful extras: Many appendices for the Japanese person who wants to excel in English, such as translations of the names of Japan’s government agencies (原子力安全 Nuclear Safety Bureau), metric conversion tables, instructions for writing letters in English, and a chart converting Japanese dates to regular dates. (Showa 1 was 1926 and so on.) Gosh, I’d forgotten about that. I used to know what year it was in Heisei.
obscenities: Yup! And they do not hold back. The really rude ones are in here.

This is different from my other four Japanese dictionaries because it’s all in romaji, or roman letters. So you can use this dictionary to look up Japanese words even if you can’t read any Japanese at all.

You need this kind of thing when you’re starting out, because real Japanese writing is really complicated. The three writing systems are intermingled in sentences and even within words.

First: 漢字 (Kanji.) Kanji are borrowed from Chinese, and they almost always have at least two pronunciations.

Take this character, 食, which means “food.” In the verb 食べる (to eat), it’s pronounced “ta.” But in the verb 食う (to eat, but less formally) it’s pronounced “ku.” In combinations like 食事 (meal) it’s pronounced “shoku.” And that’s not even all the pronunciations for this one character.

Next: ひらがな (Hiragana.) The 46 hiragana characters make up one of the two phonetic alphabets in Japanese. In most written sentences, the kanji hold the meaning and the hiragana do all the grammatical heavy lifting. If you try to read Japanese and you don’t know kanji, you spend a lot of time reading verb endings. For example, in the verb 食べる, the る – “ru” – tells you it’s the infinitive.

In theory you could write everything in Japanese in hiragana, and that’s how children’s books are written; kanji are introduced gradually, as kids learn more and more of them in school. But it would be a huge pain reading a regular book written all in hiragana. A lot of Japanese words are pronounced the same, so you have to see the kanji to know if しんぷ means “bride” or “Christian priest.” If you’ve learned the characters, it’s much faster to read one or two characters that give a word’s meaning rather than a bunch of characters that only tell you what it sounds like.

Finally: カタカナ (Katakana). Katakana covers the same 46 sounds as hiragana but is used mostly for borrowed words, like スープ (“su-pu” – soup) and コヾプ (koppu – cup). Of course, Japanese didn’t just borrow words from English. パン (pan) is “bread,” from the portuguese word pão. アルバイト (arubaito) is “part-time work,” from the German word Arbeit.

Katakana is also used for foreign names. My name is ヘレン・フィールズ. The sounds in “Helen” (he re n) all exist in Japanese, but “Fields” is kind of a mess. Sounds that aren’t in the phonetic alphabet, like “fi,” are usually really hard for Japanese people to pronounce. I just go by ヘレン.

So, really – when you’re starting out, you want a dictionary like this one that converts everything into roman letters for you. I graduated from this dictionary within a year or so. Eventually it just gets too annoying that “ga” does not immediately follow “ka,” the way it does in Japanese. The dictionary is back into circulation now because I’ve joined a Japanese choir and didn’t think I’d be able to find things in my hiragana-based pocket dictionary fast enough…but actually I’m muddling along with no dictionary at all and doing fine so far.

Dictionary Stats: Langenscheidt’s Pocket Japanese Dictionary

date: 1998 (hey – this was brand-new when I moved to Japan!)
publisher: Langenscheidt Publishers, Inc., New York
by: Seigo Nakao
length: 666 pp (oh my)
useful advice: “A general guideline for the Japanese accent is to avoid putting a heavy stress on any syllable.”
guide words on p. 129: kiyasume, n. 気休め insincere reassurance or consolation; kodoku, n. 孤独 solitude; isolation
obscenities: くそ! They aren’t there! Well, you can’t look them up in English. くそ is in the Japanese section, but I’m not telling you what it means.

I don’t feel the highlight reels (two big guys smash into each other! one of them falls over! two more guys smash into each other! etc!) remotely capture the experience – yes, the bouts are very short, but there’s several minutes of buildup before each one. The guys throw salt in the air to purify the ring, smack themselves, line up at the starting line, stare down the other guy, go back and get more salt, repeat, repeat – here, this shows a whole bout from the time they’re announced to the time the winner gets his prize:

(Fun fact: Both of these wrestlers are Mongolian.) A bout is lost when one of the competitors steps outside the ring or touches the ground with anything but bottom of his feet. It’s a tiny ring, and they’re big guys, so momentum is a problem. The shortest bouts are when one wrestler just steps out of the way and his opponent runs out of the ring. (Shortest and also funniest.) If a bout goes over a minute, it’s really, really long. If it goes four minutes, they get to take a break.

Why was I so obsessed with sumo? Well, all the preparation is kind of hypnotic, that’s one thing. The bouts can go a lot of different ways. The ring is really high, and 300-pound men routinely fall off of it into the front row of spectators – you don’t get with other sports. And it’s just so odd. I mean, the referee is dressed like a priest.

Ah, I miss Japan.