The new East Asian Library is remarkably photogenic, inside and out. The length of the building intensifies the sense of linear perspective, so I feel like the entire building is rushing forth to welcome me when I stand in the open length that bisects each floor. Mostly natural lighting, recessed ceiling lights, wood floors, and textured wall surfaces give it a gallery feel, so refreshing compared to some of the dark and cramped Asian libraries I can recall.

To celebrate its opening and the beginning of spring break, I checked out a copy of one of the books that got me excited about this field to begin with, J.I. Crump's Chinese Theater in the Days of Kublai Khan (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 1980).

( No, I was never fixated on the Middle Kingdom proper. )

This was me yesterday, and the afternoon before that, forcing myself to try and be productive amongst books and people who are Studious and quiet and fluorescence. I have a problem with writing when people are looking over my shoulder, but I find it easier to do so when seated amongst strangers. I sort of use their presence as a stopwatch, telling myself I can't leave until the majority of them are gone. The emptier the hall is by the time I leave, the more productive I felt I have been, regardless of the number of pages read or written.

It's a totally false sense of satisfaction, of course.

The grad services library closes early this afternoon, like the weekend is supposed to mean anything right now, so I'm not schlepping everything there for just a few hours of work. It's sunny outside, but still cold in this house. Since I put on my hoodie and gloves, the dog has been pushing his muzzle against my thigh and making expectant noises.

Might as well go to the park and try to hash some of this out, because it's not going to come any faster if I just sit around here.

第三[個問題], 我又不知道阿Q的名字是怎麼寫的. 他活著的時候, 人都叫他阿Quei, 死了以後, 便沒有一個人再叫他阿Quei了, 那裡還會有"著之竹帛"的事. 若論"著之竹帛", 這篇文章要算第一次, 所以先遇了這第一個難關. [...] 先前﹐我也曾問過趙太爺的兒子茂才先生﹐誰料博雅如 此公﹐竟也茫然﹐但據結論說﹐是因為陳獨秀辦了《新青年》提倡洋字﹐所以國粹淪亡﹐無可查攷了. 我的最後的手段﹐只有托一個同鄉去查阿Q犯事的案卷﹐八個月之後才有回信﹐說案卷裡並無與阿Quei的聲音相近的人. 我雖不知道是真沒有﹐還是沒有查﹐然而也再沒有別的方法了. 生怕注音字母還未通行﹐只好用了 "洋字"﹐照英國流行的拼法寫他為阿Quei﹐略作阿Ｑ. 這近于盲從《新青年 》﹐自己也很抱歉﹐但茂才公尚且不知﹐我還有什麼好辦法呢.

The third difficulty I encountered in writing this work was that I didn't know how Ah Q's personal name should be written either. During his lifetime everybody called him Ah Gui, but after his death not a soul mentioned Ah Gui again; for he was obviously not one of those whose name is "preserved on bamboo tablets and silk." If there is any question of preserving his name, this essay must be the first attempt at doing so. Hence I am confronted with this difficulty at the outset. [...] I once put this question to Mr. Zhao's son, the successful county candidate, but even such a learned man as he was baffled by it. According to him, however, the reason why this name could not be traced was that Chen Duxiu had brought out the magazine New Youth advocating the use of the Western alphabet, hence the national culture was going to the dogs. As a last resort, I asked someone from my district to go and look up the legal documents recording Ah Q's case, but after eight months he sent me a letter saying that there was no name anything like Ah Gui in those records. Although uncertain whether this was the truth or whether my friend had simply done nothing, after failing to trace the name this way I could think of no other means of finding it. Since I am afraid the new system of phonetics has not yet come into common use, there is nothing for it but to use the Western alphabet, writing the name according to the English spelling as Ah Gui and abbreviating it to Ah Q. This approximates to blindly following New Youth, and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself; but since even such a learned man as Mr. Zhao's son could not solve my problem, what else can I do?

-- from the first (introductory) chapter of 阿Q正專, trans. Yang Xianyi & Gladys Yang