Professor Nonna Stankevich

In the Hall of Traditions of the University of Social Sciences and Humanities - Vietnam National University, Hanoi, among the portraits of honored educators of the university, there is a photograph of a foreign female professor. Visitors from outside the university, especially new students, often find this room unusual, but it's not surprising to alumni like us. She is Professor Nonna Vladimirovna Stankevich, a Russian linguist from the Faculty of Literature, University of Hanoi.That's the professor's full name, but we didn't need any more formal titles; we usually just called her "Miss Nonna" (Two words).n(in the middle). I mentioned two words.nIt's because of a funny story. Three years ago, Professor Nguyen Tai Can sent me a letter and, through me, requested that the University of Social Sciences and Humanities certify the number of years of service at the University so that he and his colleagues could send it to the retirement management agency. At the end of the letter, he added: "P.S.: Remember to write her name as Nonna - the two 'e's in the middle. Many times we didn't pay attention and wrote just one 'n' as 'Nona,' which caused a lot of trouble when dealing with paperwork, especially at the police station, household registration... It was very troublesome." She was one of the "Four Nobles" of the Literature Department at Hanoi University back then. That nickname...Four of a KindThis term was coined and passed down among us students back then to refer to the four teachers we loved and respected: Ms. Dang Thi Hanh, Ms. Le Hong Sam, Ms. Hoang Thi Chau, and Ms. Nonna. Each had her own unique style, but they shared a common denominator: profound insight and a respectable academic elegance. Now,Four of a KindOur teachers retired a long time ago. Even we, their young, country-boy students from the provinces back then, are now "getting on in years." Ms. Hanh, Ms. Sam, and Ms. Chau still live in Hanoi, while Ms. Nonna retired all the way to the Russian Federation, her homeland. When we were students in the Literature department, the country was still at war and divided. Life was very poor. Everything was scarce. But strangely, the atmosphere back then was...learnandaskThere was no shortage of foreigners in our school. Back then, it was rare to meet a foreigner in Vietnam. Yet, we had a genuine Russian teacher, dressed in Vietnamese style, wearing a conical hat, and teaching as kindly as any other Vietnamese teacher. The first time we met and listened to her lecture, it was a strange feeling. She spoke in Vietnamese, very gently. A discerning listener could easily detect a slight "Nghe An accent." Her speech was concise, with no superfluous or repetitive sentences. The names of famous scientists in the field she taught, such as Skalichka, Kasnelson, Iakhontov, Uspenskji, Greenberg, and others, along with their ideas and methods, reached us through her lectures.Types of languagesFrom those days. Later, after finishing my studies and being offered a place to train as a lecturer and work in the department, I gradually came to understand her better. Her hometown is St. Petersburg (formerly Leningrad), where the emerald green Neva River reflects the purple sunsets and casts shadows of magnificent, golden castles and palaces.the white nights of JuneThe wondrous and festive "Crimson Sails" festival, and the prestigious Leningrad University, now renamed St. Petersburg University. There, in 1964, she defended her doctoral thesis on "Adjective Categories in Modern Vietnamese" under the supervision of Professor S.E. Jakhontov, a name very familiar to the international linguist community. Initially, she studied Chinese literature, with Tibetan as her second foreign language. Due to the professor's illness, Tibetan was no longer taught, and Vietnamese took its place. At the end of her studies, she graduated in Chinese and Chinese literature, but wrote her final thesis on Vietnamese studies. She would have continued her research and teaching in Vietnamese studies at St. Petersburg University, alongside those who laid the foundation for Vietnamese studies at the time, such as N.D. Andreev, Nguyen Tai Can, S.I. Bystrov, M.V. Gordina, V.S. Panfilov, I.I. Zimonina, and D. Letjagin. However, fate led her to marry into the Nguyen Tai family in Thuong Tho village, Thanh Chuong district, Nghe An province; and her life partner was the renowned linguist, Professor Nguyen Tai Can. Returning to her husband's homeland, Vietnam, she was recruited as a lecturer at Hanoi University, Faculty of Literature; and from then on, she dedicated herself entirely to the Linguistics department of the University (now the Faculty of Linguistics, University of Social Sciences and Humanities, Vietnam National University, Hanoi) until her retirement. Thus, she began her scientific career in Leningrad, but throughout her research and teaching career, she remained entirely in Vietnam, mostly during the difficult, arduous, and war-torn period of the country. At that time, the Linguistics and Vietnamese Linguistics departments at Hanoi University were just beginning to be established. She and her colleagues worked hard to develop the field. She compiled textbooks and taught courses on translation theory and methods, on language types, as well as practical Russian language instruction, researched Vietnamese grammar, and also researched Nôm script (together with Professor Cẩn), Vietnamese classical Chinese, especially the linguistic interaction between classical Chinese and Vietnamese, and researched Vietnamese prose language in the late 19th and early 20th centuries... In every field, she achieved remarkable results. Two books:Types of languages(written separately)Vietnamese grammar(written with Bystrov, Nguyen Tai Can), along with over a hundred articles by her published in scientific journals and research books both domestically and internationally.Types of languagesThis is the only book on this field, to date, in Vietnam that has been compiled and used as an official textbook for linguistics students. I believe it is appropriate to propose that this work receive a well-deserved award.Vietnamese grammarThe work of the three authors presents a system and method of description that, at the time of publication, was considered quite novel and practical. Her contribution to Vietnamese studies is not limited to this. During the war, when international exchange was difficult, she acted as a bridge, promptly introducing new achievements and research trends in world linguistics and Soviet linguistics to Vietnam, while also introducing Vietnamese culture, literature, and Vietnamese linguistics to the world through numerous translations and research papers. In 2005, she became the Editor-in-Chief of the journal.LanguageProfessor Nguyen Duc Ton asked me to write a short piece to introduce and celebrate Professor Stankevich's 70th birthday. It was difficult, but I tried my best. And after finishing it, I immediately thought of asking Professor Can to double-check it. Fortunately, he was in Hanoi at the time. I remember asking him something along the lines of: "Have you introduced, or translated and introduced, many modern Vietnamese literary works into Russian?" He paused for a moment and then said: "Yes, I have. I have translated and introduced works by Ngo Tat To, Nguyen Cong Hoan, Anh Duc, Nguyen Minh Chau..." Then he slowly stood up and went to look through the bookshelves. I followed him and helped. There was a stack of works, quite numerous, by Ngo Tat To, Nguyen Cong Hoan, Anh Duc, Nguyen Minh Chau... and also by Huy Can, Nguyen Tuan, Hoang Trung Thong... with very respectful dedications and thanks. All of them were printed on straw-colored paper, either in shades of yellowish-brown or dull gray, a testament to a time of hardship and scarcity. Around the time before and after 1970, she was the first to introduce the linguistic and written content of ancient Nôm texts.Guide to the Interpretation of Jade Sounds,Zen Buddhist scriptures on the meaning of empty words...She shared her work with the Soviet linguistics and Vietnamese studies community, and these materials received considerable attention. Notably, she was also the first to discover and introduce Catholic texts.Distinguishing Right from WrongWritten in Vietnamese, extremely rare, in Leningrad, it caused a great stir in the field of Vietnamese studies, especially in the Soviet Union at that time. Besides her professional work, few people knew that many important documents of the Party and State, and many documents from high-ranking delegations on official trips, were translated into Russian by her. On one occasion, while talking about this, I asked Professor Can, half-jokingly, half-seriously: "It seems like there was no payment or compensation back then, was there, Professor?" He just smiled and said: "When the superiors assign something, you have to try your best to do it. It's a duty, after all. But there are many funny things here. Especially the working documents of delegations from various ministries, departments, and associations... It's like bombs being dropped. They'll be leaving tomorrow or a few days before, and then they'll bring them to me today, asking for my help. So I have to work hard. Staying up all night. It's really tough." She also translated many articles by high-ranking leaders into Russian and was a member of the first team to translate President Ho Chi Minh's will into Russian. Former Prime Minister Pham Van Dong often requested that her translations be for his articles published in the Pravda newspaper. In this way, she quietly performed both "famous" and "anonymous" tasks, silently dedicating herself to them. Her work ethic, and that of Professor Nguyen Tai Can, was remarkably persistent and patient. Before the advent of photocopiers...Vietnamese - Portuguese - Latin DictionaryA. De Rhodes's work had not yet been translated and printed, but wanting to have the materials for their work, she and, to some extent, Mr. Can also took the time to copy the entire work in Leningrad. Then, around the time before and after 1975, a research institute compiled a dictionary of Nôm characters, but it had not yet been printed, so she and Mr. Can again requested to copy the entire work. Later, when talking about this with us, she and Mr. Can both said: "For valuable and rare documents that haven't been printed for use, we have to make an effort to copy them. To have something to work with. That kind of thing is usually very difficult to print. Waiting would take forever. By diligently copying, we will have the materials to work with several years sooner"... And that's exactly what happened. Once, Mr. Can laughed and said: "See, N., I've had the materials for my work for two or three years now, and the book hasn't been printed yet. It's difficult." While working with Mr. Can at Paris 7 University for a while, she and Mr. Can asked Mr. Ph. for help. Langlet was introduced by Mr. Y. Hervouet to Mr. LMJ Verinaud and Mr. LMCI. Langlet then used their introductions to gain access to the archives of the Center for Foreign Missions (Séminaire des Missions étrangères - established in 1663 at 128 Rue du Bac, Paris today) to access ancient archival documents. Thereupon, she discovered and meticulously researched, publishing a series of very valuable documents written in the Vietnamese Quốc ngữ script from the 17th and 18th centuries: the number of volumes, the symbols of each volume, the contents of each volume, the current state of the texts, their content, and specific dates... (Article published in a magazine)Science- Hanoi University and in the bookSome evidence related to language, writing, and culture.(by Professor Nguyen Tai Can, 2001). In 1984, she was recognized and appointed as Professor of Linguistics. In 1992, she retired. But her professional work continued. She continued writing papers for international conferences, articles for scientific journals, etc., and continued her research.The Vietnamese linguistic tradition and its interaction with the Chinese linguistic tradition.(book:History of Language Sciences(published in Berlin and New York in 2000), wrote articles for the magazine.Language(Vietnam) on function words and grammar in ancient Nôm textsLegendary Tales...introducing the achievements and new methods of Russian lexicography... In 2010, I had the opportunity to visit Ms. Can and Mr. Can in Moscow. Ms. Can still inquired about what research and publications our colleagues back home had done. And she even said: "If you have the chance, please send them to us to read."

Returning to the past, I learned that when they first returned from the Soviet Union, Professor and Professor were assigned a portion of a rather beautiful villa on a central street in Hanoi. Then, at the University of Hanoi, a near-Cultural Revolution suddenly broke out in that foreign country. It was only a small-scale operation, but it was enough to cause significant harm. Several scientists from the natural sciences and literature faculties were targeted first. Professor Nguyen Tai Can was among them. They had to leave that villa and buy a house near the flea market. Across the street was a temporary detention center used by the police. Back then, the distance from the city center to the flea market was still considered quite far. That's what I heard from the elders back then; by the time we knew Professor and Professor, the scene had completely changed, and the detention center was no longer there. Beyond two dilapidated iron gates, about the height of a standing person, lay the entrance to the teachers' house, which also served as a small, narrow courtyard running along the length of the house wall. Inside stood a rather large magnolia tree next to a small clump of ornamental bamboo, overgrown and rarely pruned. Under the magnolia tree sat an old toad, I don't know how long it had been there, its large, bulging eyes staring at everyone, seemingly unafraid of anyone. A long time ago, while sitting and chatting with Teacher Cẩn, I playfully spilled tea on its head; it merely brushed the water away with its paw and lay still, its eyes wide open, saying nothing. The wooden table (apparently homemade, not made by a professional craftsman) was often placed under the magnolia tree by Teacher Cẩn for work and receiving guests in the summer. The gifts the teacher gave to many friends, colleagues, and students were magnolia blossoms she had picked, placed in small envelopes she had cut and pasted herself from newspaper. Elegant and fragrant… Many of the teacher's students came to study at that house. Around 1985-1990, Professor Can organized a series of lectures at his home, focusing on specific issues in linguistics and Vietnamese linguistics ("talking in words" were the seminars), with enthusiastic volunteers from a number of teachers, students, and colleagues participating, presenting, and discussing. Professor and his wife were pleased with themselves, jokingly calling it...scientific cooperativeI kept wondering: perhaps the so-called research groups we're discussing today were once formed in a similar way? During the subsidy period. Then the destructive bombing campaign by the American air force. Bombs and bullets. Evacuation. Hardship, struggle, shortages in every way. The superiors worried about her and advised her to temporarily evacuate to the Soviet Union. She thanked them, and then her whole family evacuated with the school to Dai Tu - Thai Nguyen. When they had to evacuate a second time to avoid enemy bombs, it was the same; she returned to the countryside without hesitation. Just think: suppose (only)supposeThat day, she evacuated to her hometown to avoid the bombs, while Mr. Can was facing difficulties with the background and working atmosphere. What was that like?... The day he was awarded the Ho Chi Minh Prize for science, bestowed with the prestigious title of People's Teacher... everyone who knew him and was close to him was happy and congratulated him. But it seems I can still hear something echoing somewhere...All we've ever seen are people laughing."... - a line from the translation of an ancient poem from the far north, used as an introduction to a multi-episode historical drama, which I occasionally see broadcast on television every evening. A while ago, I worked at a university far from home. She also went with Professor Cẩn to work there for several months. One day I visited them. We chatted about work, and she advised me to take care of my health while away from my family. She even taught me how to cook and care for young children (my firstborn son was only three years old at the time). She said: “You know, during the evacuation, Việt and Nam [her two sons] were still very young. At night, of course, there was only oil lamp. She would sit and work, with her son sleeping beside her.” When a child cries, the first thing you have to do is check if they've been bitten by ants or other insects, or if they've wet the bed, or if they're hungry, or in winter, if they're cold... I listened, not only seeing and learning about childcare, but also seeing the teacher and other students with their books and the flickering oil lamps of the winter nights in the evacuation zone... I saw my hometown again, a rural area near the sea, the gateway for American planes at that time. The sound of the air raid siren. The sound of anti-aircraft guns. The sound of bombs exploding in the city or somewhere else, sometimes near, sometimes far. Some nights, I even heard the sound of artillery fire from American warships at sea. We were children, at the age of eating and growing, but hunger was always rumbling in our stomachs. In the evening, two or three siblings, each in a corner on the rickety wooden platform in the house, huddled together studying, yawning around the oil lamp in the middle, with a small loudspeaker made from an old notebook cover shielding the light. The sunlight shone outwards, fearing detection by American planes... To put it in today's terms, she had integrated with us. Returning to Vietnam, a foreign country, at a time of great poverty and hardship, having only recently emerged from the anti-colonial resistance war, she quickly overcame her initial apprehension and calmly and confidently joined the community. Even when the American air force bombed, she evacuated to the forest to avoid the bombs and bullets, juggling work and raising young children. Upon returning to Hanoi, everything was still rationed, with a monthly allowance of 13 kilograms of food mixed with noodles and corn... yet she remained dedicated to research and teaching... I cannot know if she and her husband were truly "poor" and "contented with poverty," but their "return to the path" was clear. Without "return to the path," where would such research results have come from in those circumstances? Despite such a life of hardship, in teaching and research, she always set the highest possible standards. When I first stayed at the school, it was she and Professor Cẩn who... One conversation enlightened me about what a research paper is, the criteria for evaluating a research paper, the necessary standards for a research paper, how it differs from a published article, and what requirements a student in a specialized field should meet and what they should be able to do. More than ten years later, while at Cornell University in the United States, I introduced two of my friends to her, one of whom was P., a Thai girl, beautiful, cheerful, and energetic, who spoke Vietnamese fluently with a distinct Hanoi accent. At that time, she was a graduate student and had worked for several international organizations. After meeting P. a couple of times, she took a liking to her and told me, "We must strive to train students like her." Returning to her hometown to retire, like other professors, she left behind for the University and the Faculty all the fruits of her research and teaching. Among the few "family heirlooms" she took with her upon retirement were a steel helmet issued during the bombing campaign by the American air force, and a plaque...Medal of Resistance against the American War for National Salvation(She certainly received a medal, but I don't remember the rank. And I'm hesitant to ask. Because if I were to send a letter now, I know she'd be reluctant to talk about such accolades, so... never mind.) I kept thinking: It turns out that her entire life, her most productive years of scientific work and teaching, right up until her retirement, were always in a state of "remembering the other side while here, and remembering this place while there." And as is often the case, "...at the two ends of longing, affection is deeper..." as a song I've heard people sing recently says. When she was in Hanoi, that distant land was her birthplace. When she was in St. Petersburg or Moscow now, Hanoi, with its rain-soaked streets and alleys, its scorching summer days and a few gentle autumn days, and then the bustling December with peach blossoms and kumquats, because... it was Tet (Lunar New Year); Hanoi, with its research and teaching in linguistics and Vietnamese studies, and the sweltering summer afternoons bathed in golden, honey-colored sunlight, where the cicadas in the ancient trees near the classroom drowned out the voices of the teachers, and we couldn't chase them away even by splashing water on the trees... perhaps these memories have become unforgettable. That's why, whenever Professor Can returned to Hanoi, he always brought his camera and took countless photos: the alley leading to his and his wife's house, the small roadside tea stall near their home, the staircase in the apartment building, the electric pole at the turn into the alley, the windows of someone's house in the distance, the tangled power lines overhead... To alleviate my probably puzzled look at his photography, he explained: "She asked me to take pictures and bring them over so she wouldn't miss me so much." And I remained silent. In August 2010, during a visit to see my teacher and his wife in Moscow, I asked them many questions and then said, "Please take care of your health, and when you have the opportunity, come back to Hanoi, dear. Hanoi has changed a lot now..." She looked out the window for a moment, her eyes seemingly distant, then turned back and said, "I'd love to, but the doctor won't allow it." I knew she had health problems with air travel. That day, Mr. Hoang (a new, close friend, along with his wife, Ms. Hanh, who arranged the business trip for Ms. Thu Ha, Mr. Pham Ngoc Thanh, and me) took me to visit my teacher and his wife. By chance, I learned that Ms. Hanh's house in Nghe An was right next to Mr. Can's former house, and Mr. Hoang knew many relatives on Mr. Can's side. She mentioned and asked him about his uncles, aunts, cousins... whether they were still doing anything, where they were... I listened and understood why the teacher's relatives cherished her, as I had heard and seen. Vietnamese life and soul were deeply ingrained and seemed to have blended with the Russian soul in her. That's why I can tell you another little story below. In February 2011, Teacher Nguyen Tai Can passed away. His remains were brought back to his hometown. Before going to Nghe An, he stopped in Hanoi. Upon arriving at the airport, his family, relatives, and students set up a memorial altar to pay their respects. As everyone began lighting incense and preparing to place it in the incense burner, I suddenly saw Nguyen Tai Viet, the eldest son of the teacher and his wife, hurrying into the room, quickly unrolling a small, carefully wrapped roll of newspaper, taking out three incense sticks brought from Russia, and placing them in the incense burner first before continuing with the incense lighting. A strange feeling flashed through my mind, indefinable, indescribable... There's a saying, "Good fortune comes from the mother." I vaguely sensed that behind him, behind his actions, was the shadow of his mother - Professor Nonna Vladimirovna Stankevich.