It’s been a busy month and it’s only going to get worse. Over the next six weeks, I’ll be getting ready for 80 new students coming to Beijing from the US, an orientation session, two classes, two mobile learning trips (Hangzhou/Nanjing and then to Xinjiang) plus a translation for CASS and their Journal of Modern Chinese History, the beginnings of a book due in January, and I’d like to get at least one more chapter of my dissertation written before I leave for Xinjiang. By the end of next month, I should have a considerable sense of accomplishment and probably be legally qualified to begin a methadone regimen. We’ll have to see.
So those rare nights when I can join my friends Froog, Brendan, and Dave for a night of dinner, drinks, and pub quizzing are something to be treasured. Now, I’ve not pub quizzed before. But I’ve been told that my only talent is as a repository of useless trivia (hence: the history degree) and have also on more than one occasion been accused of being something of an obnoxious know-it-all (Thanks, Mom!), and…I like pubs. So this was an idea whose time had come, right?
Last evening’s pub quiz was at the 12 Square Meters Bar on Nanluoguxiang which bills itself as “smallest bar in Beijing” even though they’ve expanded considerably and now are about 45 square meters. I guess “45 Square Meter Bar” doesn’t quite ring the same way and I can understand that “smallest bar on this side of the street between the light pole and the public loo” won’t fit on the signboard. So, 12 Square Meters it is. It’s a nice place regardless, with a hospitable and friendly owner, a chill neighborhood vibe, a great drinks menu, and it remains a huge step up from the increasing number of dismal Houhai cafe/bar copies which are invading this once vibrant area.
It was also an “individual” pub quiz. Apparently, in their natural environment, pub quizzes are team affairs. This one was designed for either the solo drinker or people who just don’t play well with others.
Now, I’ve always assumed that the people who do pub quizzes regularly — like Froog — are a special breed. (There are few in the Beijing expat community who would disagree that among special breeds, Froog probably deserves his own, special-er, category, but I digress…) And it is certainly true that pub quizzes, like the GRE or marriage vows, are comprised of a series of tricky questions for which simply having information is insufficient, the answers must be presented just so and luck plays a significant role.
For example, last night one of the contestants was a young woman, originally from Brooklyn, who was in China via Scandinavia where she had just recently mastered Norwegian in eight months. (I told you: special breed) Wouldn’t you know it? One of the questions was “Name the three colors in the Norwegian Flag.” (A: Red, Blue, White) A question which she greeted with a whoop of joy and then answered while singing the Norwegian national anthem with a boozy gusto.
So of course, with me being born under a bad sign and all, in the final round the quiz master asked the following question:
“In what year did the Qing Dynasty end?”
Now I’m more than accepting of the charge that I can take any simple question and spin a complicated and nearly incoherent answer…it’s part of my charm as a teacher. If a student asked me this, I would have started on a riff about how the Wuchang Uprising of October 10, 1911 led to a mass secession of provinces, some tense negotiations between the central government and the provincial assemblies, the return of Sun Yat-sen with Sun taking the presidency on January 1, 1912, at which point there was both a president and an emperor, an untenable state of affairs resolved with Sun stepping down in favor of Yuan Shikai, and the court abdicating in the name of the Xuantong Emperor (Puyi) in February of 1912.
Basically, the answer is 1912.
That’s what I wrote.
Brendan, sitting across from me on a small table, looked at me and said with his usual wobbly sagacity:
“Don’t answer it the right way, answer it the way most people would answer it.”
“Yeah, but that answer is wrong.”
“Do you want to win or do you want to be right?”
Let’s just say, it’s a question I’ve been asked before in other contexts. In this case, I decided to call for a clarification.
“Do you mean the uprising that set it in motion or do you mean the actual date of abdication.”
The owner replied, “The one Wikipedia has.”
Yeah, not the right answer to give a history teacher.
So….what do I do? I of course write “1912.”
The ‘correct’ answer according to the pubmaster? 1911.
Now in the end, it didn’t matter. Froog won with a score of 39, I came in second with a score of 32. But still…
I say “1912″. As do the three textbooks I just grabbed off of the shelf in my home office (Spence, Ebrey, and William T. Rowe’s new Qing history).
Oh yeah, and Wikipedia? It says 1912, too.
Did I want to win or did I want to be right? And which way did I choose? Now that’s a thought that will keep me even busier this month…
And as you will recall, I broke pub quiz rules and gave you the point for 1912. (Partly because I didn’t want to be a victim of the HULK-SMASH-SMASH-SMASHing that was about to ensue.)
Which is why in the post I only claimed 32 points rather than 33.
Well, I must say I’m rather envious at all this talk of pub quizzes with familiar names. If it had been a team quiz sounds like you’ve got a pretty formidable line up there. What did Froog win for coming first? Bottle of Johnny Walker Blue?
As for your academic schedule, Jeremiah, not so much with the envy. I honestly don’t know how you can fit so much reading, writing, researching, teaching, travelling etc into a six-week period. I have known times of academic purgatory, but not at this level with so much else going on. Good luck with it all.
Well, obviously, you both broke pub quiz rules by conferring, and should have been docked all your points and made to run up and down the length of NLGX in only your underwear for shame.
No, I sympathise with your sense of outrage, J. I am amazed that you claim never to have quizzed before. (Hey, didn’t you tell me you used to go to the old John Bull quiz??) You clearly have the hyper-seriousness, the compulsive competitive drive, and the complete lack of a sense of perspective which make for a champion quizzer.
I don’t know where the hell this 1911 date for the end of the Qing comes from, but it does seem to be pretty prevalent (mostly in things like Dynasty lists, which is probably what JK consulted for the quiz; there’s a separate Wikipedia page for that). I suppose it’s the date of the revolution/collapse of the imperial government; but clearly the declaration of the Republic and/or the abdication are firmer dates to reference it by. This is one of those situations where the quiz maven knows that the ‘real answer’ is 1912, but the ‘quiz answer’ is 1911.
This quiz is still in its infancy, and JK was somewhat constrained in his question-setting efforts this week by having to deal with a visit from his mum. I hope we’ll see you at some of the future events for a rematch.
I was flabbergasted that I won with such a comparatively comfortable lead, when the general level of questions was quite ‘easy’ (well, there were certainly a fair few ‘gimmes’ – far more than in the first two instalments of this quiz). I think I pulled clear of everyone else on the opening Sport round – and Sport is really not my thing, so the questions must have been pretty straightforward if I got most of them right.
Mr O’K and his Amilal chums were on rather subdued form, for some reason. Of course, he likes more history and literature (as do I), so perhaps it’s not quite “his” quiz – although he shaded me by a single point in the (ridiculously difficult!) inaugural event.
By the by, until this even started up at 12 SqM a couple of months ago, I had only quizzed once or twice this year. I’ve never been a quiz ‘regular’ in Beijing, and quite often go for a year or two at a time without taking part in one. As I’ve related once or twice over on my blog, I used to be a serious quizzer for a little while at one stage in my life – circa 1993. I don’t think I remember much of that stuff any more. Certainly not when I’m sober.
You didn’t try the “Bullshit!” method?
The last time I did one of these quizzes was in Tianjin. One question was heard by everybody from the South Pacific as “Which country does Kava come from?” We all told our teams Fiji. The answer was Spain, and on hearing this, myself and a couple of Aussies immediately jumped up and yelled “Bullshit!” and told them why. Of course, the question was, “Which country does Cava come from?”, but there was nothing in the delivery of the question to suggest spelling. We did not give up and forced them to concede us the point.
So I dunno, maybe next time you can try that. Otherwise, just listen to Brendan.
Spooky coincidence time! The Lush pub quiz, in which questions about China are at least as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, asked us last Wednesday who the last emperor of China was. I was all set to go Puyi until my teammate reminded me of that sneaky no-good Yuan Shikai character. So we lost that point…
Doesn’t the Guomindang take 1911 as the beginning of the Republic and, thus, “Republican” dates must have 1911 added to them?
I might call “Bullshit!” on your “Bullshit!”, Chris. Kava isn’t exclusively or even predominantly a Fijian plant/drink; it’s found all over Polynesia.
Froog, I clearly remember in a 3rd Form Polynesian Studies class in the run up to a traditional Samoan kava ceremony being told it was originally from Fiji. Obviously the Aussies who joined me in calling bullshit had heard a similar story. I can’t find a clear answer right now on where it actually originated, but that’s in large part because google is misbehaving (or perhaps more likely, being misbehaved) yet again. For the little it’s worth, a Fijian, or at least Melanesian origin makes sense, as it is found throughout Melanesia and Polynesia, and Fiji is a major jumping-off point in ancient Polynesian exploration and settlement of the Pacific. But then again, kumara originally came from South America….
Stu,
Interesting question, but I would say Puyi. It’s not enough to declare yourself emperor and put on the robes, if nobody else is buying it I don’t think it counts. In fact, I’m not even sure the accession ceremony took place (it kept getting postponed). On the other hand, he DID have a reign name (somewhat cheekily, Hongxian “Glorious Constitution”) so, that’s something. Nevertheless, I’m still going with Puyi.
Sam,
I think the Min’guo period officially started on January 1, 1912 with 1912 being Year 1 (that is, there is no year 0) so January 1, 1913 is actually month 1, day 1, of year 2 of the Min’guo Period even though it had only been one year since the calendar was established.
Though, I’ll admit to not having thought about it much until now and I welcome correction.
Stuart,
That would be a good team, though I’d hate to get caught in the fracas if a team of Froog, Brendan, Chris and I were thrown a question about “fruits of the South Pacific”
Though excellent example of my ‘special people’ theory…
Fruit? It’s prepared from the root of the plant.
Yes, it is. Now I know. I will now take the Encyclopedia Botanica and beat myself bloody.
I’m not good with plants.
Well…most plants anyway.
Well, applause for a spirited effort, Chris, but any properly dictatorial quizmaster is going to smack you down for a highly speculative and almost certainly unprovable argument about the history of kava dissemination, however imaginatively and plausibly crafted. Also, the present tense in the question does tend to suggest the interpretation “In which country(ies) is kava produced today?” rather than “Where did kava drinking originate?” I wouldn’t say ‘Fiji’ was a wrong answer, just incomplete.
Hmm, love me some kava. Any idea if there’s anywhere we could indulge in Beijing? Presumably there’s a Fijian (or Samoan or Tongan or….) Embassy somewhere, but I’ve never spotted it.
Stuart, the prize in the 12 SqM quiz is a 100rmb bar tab – pretty generous by the standards of Beijing quizzes, particularly as it doesn’t have to be shared (I remain resistant to the supposed allure of the Bookworm’s Monday night quiz because the top prize is usually just a bottle of their undistinguished house plonk – to be split with 3 or 4 other people). This week JK instituted a ‘wooden spoon’ prize for the tail-end Charlie as well, but I didn’t catch what that was.
“Do you want to win or do you want to be right?”
Before I became married: right
After I became married: win
And in my Modern China class (taught by a Qing historian no less) I am pretty sure the dates were 1644 to 1911. Tough it up big guy, you will always be right in MY pubquiz.