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Category: Ambiguous Readings

脅かす・脅す

Here we have another ambiguous reading.  With the okurigana of kasu, this can be read odokasu or obiyakasu.

When the word in context means “to frighten/threaten (a person),” either reading is acceptable.  When the meaning is “to threaten (something other than a person)” — that is, when it used is abstractly — it is read obiyakasu. As a general rule, when what is either threatening or being threatened is not a person, then obiyakasu is used.

Consider these two examples:

熊もいたずらに人をおびやかすために出て来たのではない。

岡本綺堂、「半七捕物帳・熊の死骸」

…逆に勤労婦人の生活安定をおびやかすことにもなって来るのである。

宮本百合子、「いのちの使われかた」

When the meaning is “to surprise (a person),” the reading is odokasu.

As for the reading when the only okurigana is su, although there is an archaic obiyasu, it will in most cases be read odosu.

Reading 開く・開ける

Consider these three sentences, which appear in rapid succession in Shirin Nezamafi’s “Shiroi kami”:

海よ、開け

口を大きく開け、肺いっぱい分の酸素を吸い込んだ。

開いている本を棒読みしている。

The verbs 開く and 開ける can be read as either aku or hiraku and akeru or hirakeru, respectively.  How do you know which reading is correct?

The first thing to consider is whether the verb is transitive or intransitive.  In the first and third sentences above, the verbs are intransitive; in the second, it is transitive. If the verb is transitive, it will almost certainly be akeru or hiraku. If the verb is transitive, then, the portion of the verb represented by the okurigana (-keru or –ku) will differentiate them.  Therefore the verb in the second sentence is read ake.

If the verb is intransitive, things become more complicated.  Akuhiraku, and hirakeru can all be intransitive. If the verb is intransitive and the okurigana is –keru, then the verb is most likely read hirakeru.

Many things hiraku: those that open in three dimensions (blossoms, umbrellas, packages), those that open up and down (eyes, mouths, shells), those that open in any of a number of ways (books, windows, curtains), those that open in space (a divide), those that begin (meetings, lectures), those that are opened figuratively (new paths or lands).

The choice between aku and hiraku can be particularly tricky with doors.  If there is a single door, then it will aku.  If there are two doors that open away from one another, as a pair, then they hiraku. The first and third sentences are both hiraku because of the figurative sense of this sort of motion: the ocean parts to the two sides, and the book opens on the hinge of its spine.

開く・注ぐ・避ける・退く

A few general comments about verbs whose readings can only be determined by context.

First, let’s look at 開く, which can be either aku or hiraku (we will leave out hadaku to simplify things.) When functioning as an intransitive, aku is used if something that had been preventing the opening is removed and passage then becomes possible. Hiraku is used when something that is closed is opened (and usually left open.) The most common occurrences of hiraku as an intransitive involve windows or dialogue boxes on computers, flowers, events, and gaps. Curtains and doors can aku or hiraku.

Next is 注ぐ, which (when used as a transitive verb) can be read either as sosogu or tsugu. This will be read as sosogu in most contexts, with one important exception: when liquid is poured into a small container (eg, cup) in order to be drunk. It that case, tsugu is supposedly the appropriate reading, though many native speakers will still read it as sosogu.

We also have 避ける, which can be read as sakeru or yokeru. Although both mean “to avoid,” the former involves avoiding abstract things and things that one holds a strong dislike for; the latter, on the other hand, often implies a physical response — ducking, swerving, etc. Consider this example:

お互い、生い立ちや歳のことも、避けていた訳ではなくてただ話題に上がらなかった。

金原ひとみ「蛇にピアス」

Since their childhoods and their ages are abstractions, this would be read sakete.

Finally, 退く, which (when used as an intransitive verb) can be read as shirizoku, doku, noku, or hiku (in classical Japanese, as always, there are even more possibilities.) To begin with, these verbs can be grouped: shirizoku and hiku both mean to withdraw; doku and noku both mean to get out of someone’s way. Within the former group, shirizoku is the most common reading when this kanji is used; within the latter group, the difference today seems mainly a matter of regional dialect. Given this, how would we read:

それ以上、押し問答するのもみっともないので、女は「じゃあ」と言ってあっさり退いた。

小池真理子「捨てる」

As we know from context that the woman does not subsequently get out of the man’s way, but that she is retreating, abstractly, from a certain line of questioning, presumably the reading would be shirizoku.

擦りつける

乱暴に煙草を灰皿に擦りつけ、酒井はぷいと出て行った。

青山真治「夜警」

Along the lines of the previous post, is it suritsuke, kosuritsuke, or nasuritsuke?

Let’s begin by eliminating the “easy” one, nasuritsukeru. What Sakai is doing in this sentence is a very concrete action, the rubbing out of a cigarette. Although its fundamental meaning is more or less the same as the others, nasuritukeru (vt.) is usually used abstractly, in the sense of “to attach one’s own responsibility or failure to another.”

Verbs with two readings often divide between concrete and abstract meanings. Consider 抱く, which can be read either as daku or idaku. The former is conventionally used when one embraces (e.g.) a person or thing, while the latter is used when one embraces (e.g.) an idea.

Nikkoku defines suritsukeru as follows: (1) to kosuritsukeru, nasuritsukeru; (2) to kosuru and thus ignite; (3) to conspicuously praise something that another does not like, so that that person might be motivated to buy it. (Let’s ignore this third meaning, which is traced back to the famous Japanese-Portuguese dictionary Nippo jisho of 1603.) An example from Natsume Sôseki uses the verb for “rubbing” one’s forehead on the floor as part of a groveling bow.

Nikkoku defines kosuritsukeru this way: to press one thing against another and nasuritsukeru; to rub with force. An example from Arishima Takeo uses the verb in the same way Sôseki did above.

An informal survey of native speakers resulted in a unanimous vote for kosuritsukeru in this case. A suggested reason was this: the verb kosuru, unlike the verb suru, denotes a repeated action, thus fitting better with the multiple passes presumably necessary to put out a cigarette.

埋もれる

マンション前に止まっている軽トラックと、運転席に座ってこちらを見ている男の姿とが、一瞬、白い花あらしの中に埋もれ、見えなくなる。

小池真理子「捨てる」

Which is it, umore or uzumore? There are a number of these verbs that cannot be distinguished simply by their okurigana or the grammar of the sentence. (We will deal with other examples in another post.) Without a gloss, we are left to the context to determine which of the readings (and thus meaning) is appropriate. So what of this case?

Let’s begin with umoreru (vi.). The Nikkoku (2nd. ed.) gives the following meanings: (1) to go under/into, or be covered by, something like snow or soil and disappear from sight (cf. uzumoreru and umoru); (2) used metaphorically, to be withdrawn (cf. uzumoreru), as in reserved, gloomy, or obscure.

And uzumoreru (vi.): (1) to be covered with something like snow or soil and disappear from sight, or to hide oneself by going deeply into something; (2) for a place to fill with things, people, etc.; (3) used metaphorically, to not be known, as in to be withdrawn, undervalued; and (4) to give oneself over to feelings such as sadness and despair.

The distinction is clarified here: the two words differ in the same way that uzumeru and umeru differ; that is, uzumu (vt.)/uzumeru (vt.) refer to covering something by heaping soil, etc., on top of it; umu (vt.)/umeru (vt.) refer to putting something into a hole, etc., and then covering that. In both cases the object disappears from sight.

Nikkoku identifies characteristic uses of various related words. For uzumu, “to pile a lot of soil, etc., onto something and thus cover and conceal it”; for uzumeru, “to fill a space with people or things, or to pile a lot of soil, etc., onto something and thus cover and conceal it”; for umeru, “to mix in another substance in order to modulate temperature or strength” or, metaphorically, “to make up for a loss or an insufficiency.”

So which is it, umore or uzumore? Since one key difference between the terms seems to be degree, and since presumably the truck is merely covered — not buried — in petals, this would likely be read umore.

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