Books书 When You Forget, I'll Remember你忘了,我记得

When You Forget, I'll Remember你忘了,我记得

Chapter 3. Rules and Habits第三章 规则和习惯

A manga for grown-ups. Read it in English or Chinese.给大人看的漫画。可以用中文或英文读。

Early autumn evening in Grandpa's living room, one warm lamp lit, the balcony glass dark blue behind. Grandpa and Xiaoyu sit side by side on the beige sofa with its white lace covers, close together, reading ONE small old picture book together: Grandpa on the left, Xiaoyu on the right. Grandpa holds the little book open in his big left hand at chest height, its pages FACING THEM and tilted up towards their faces, so we see the pages only at a steep angle (a black-and-white line drawing on each page above a few grey scribble lines, NOT readable); the forefinger of his right hand rests under one line. His reading glasses are ON his nose, because he is reading; his face is warm, absorbed and pleased. Xiaoyu, in her navy-and-white school tracksuit, leans against his arm, her eyes on the line under his finger, lips moving as she follows, concentrating and happy. The old square biscuit tin of picture books stands open on the sofa beside her, a few more little books inside. Their two faces and the little book in the lamplight are the focal point. The top third is a calm plain cream wall and dark window for the title. No other people.
Chapter 3第三章Rules and Habits规则和习惯
Half past seven in the morning, Monday 7 September, soft early-autumn sun. The gate of an old Bridge City school: two grey-brick gateposts, a sliding metal gate pushed open, three tall plane trees with the first yellow leaves, the low grey-and-white school building behind. Xiaoyu, eleven, in a brand-new navy-blue school tracksuit with white shoulders and white sleeve stripes, a dark blue school bag on both shoulders, stands just INSIDE the gate on the left of the picture and looks back over her shoulder at Mama, gripping both bag straps: small, nervous, brave. Mama, in her pale blue-grey blouse, stands just OUTSIDE the gate on the right, one hand lifted in a small wave, worried and smiling. Far off inside, three other children in the same tracksuit walk away from us, small, seen from behind. No crowd, NOT a sea of children. The sky and the plane trees above are the quiet area. No writing on the gate, the gateposts or anywhere, NO sign board.
Mama said we were staying a year. So the next Monday, I started school in Bridge City.妈妈说我们留下来,住一年。下个星期一,我就去桥城上学了。
Morning, sun through the windows on the left. From Xiaoyu's seat: her two hands (navy tracksuit cuffs with white stripes, a black digital watch on her LEFT wrist) rest flat on a new exercise book at the bottom of the picture. Ahead, the green blackboard is filled edge to edge with rows of white chalk writing, drawn as dense chalk scribble, NOT readable characters, NOT letters. Teacher Fang, small at the board, writes still more with her back to us. Two classmates' heads in the rows ahead are dark simple shapes from behind. The crowded board is the point; the plain wall strip above the board is the quiet area.
Every word on the board was a wall.黑板上的每个字,都像一堵墙。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu sits at her wooden desk in her navy-and-white school tracksuit, a pencil held loosely in her right hand above an empty exercise book, staring up at the board (off panel, ahead of her): lost, overwhelmed, trying not to show it. Her face is in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. The window light on her cheek; the plain wall behind her is the quiet area.
I could speak a little Chinese. I could read almost none.中文,我会说一点。字,我几乎不认得。
1
Morning, window light. Teacher Fang stands at the front on the LEFT beside her desk, turned towards the class, one open hand held out towards Xiaoyu, kind and brisk. Xiaoyu has just stood up at her desk in the MIDDLE of the picture, in her navy-and-white tracksuit, hands pressed to her sides, stiff with nerves, looking left at the teacher. Across the aisle on the RIGHT, Lili sits at her own desk, chin on her hand, high ponytail with its red tie, looking left at Xiaoyu with a sharp, curious grin. Two or three other pupils sit as quiet shapes seen from behind, no faces. The plain wall above them is the quiet area. No writing on the board side we see, NOT any poster with words.
‹Everyone, this is our new classmate. She's come from Scotland. Say hello.›同学们,这是咱们班新来的同学,从苏格兰来的。来,跟大家打个招呼。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu stands at her desk, cheeks pink, eyes down, saying her name carefully and getting it wrong; her hands grip the edge of the desk. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall and window light behind her.
‹Hello, everyone. I'm Zhou Xiao… yú.›大家好,我叫周小……鱼。
Wrong tone. Yǔ is rain. Yú is fish.声调念错了。“雨”念成了“鱼”。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili, at her desk, bursts out laughing, one hand half over her mouth, eyes squeezed with glee, leaning towards the aisle; she looks LEFT, towards Xiaoyu off panel. Her high ponytail with the red tie swings. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall behind her.
‹Porridge Little Fish!›粥——小——鱼!
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu has sat down at her desk on the left, head low, face hot and red, staring at her empty exercise book, hurt. Across the aisle on the right, Lili leans to her deskmate (a girl with two short plaits in the same tracksuit, seen from behind, NO face) and mimics Xiaoyu with a silly round mouth, grinning. The window light falls on Xiaoyu. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
Zhou sounds like porridge. By lunchtime, half the class was saying it.“周”跟“粥”同音。不到中午,半个班都这么叫我了。
Wang Lili. Top of the class every year since Year One.王丽丽。从一年级起,年年考第一。
2
Afternoon, the same first day, softer light. Teacher Fang stands at the front, a textbook held closed against her chest in one arm, the other hand raised with two fingers up as she counts off two things; clear, brisk, kind. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. The green board behind her has been wiped to a pale chalky smear, NOT any writing.
‹Dictation every Friday. And on the last Friday of October, a reading test.›每周五听写。十月最后一个星期五,阅读测验。
Afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Lili sits back in her chair with her arms folded and her textbook shut on the desk in front of her, chin up, eyes half closed, smug and sure; she glances LEFT towards Xiaoyu off panel. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall behind.
‹I know the whole textbook by heart. Every lesson. Top marks are mine.›整本课本我都背下来了。第一名是我的,跑不了。
Late afternoon of the same day, low golden sun through the plane trees, long shadows. Xiaoyu and Haoran walk out of the school gate side by side towards us, both in the same navy-and-white school tracksuit, school bags on their backs; Haoran on the LEFT, half a head taller, his one wired earbud in his LEFT ear (on the viewer's right as he faces us), glasses on; Xiaoyu on the RIGHT. Xiaoyu walks fast, fists tight on her bag straps, jaw set, eyes ahead: stubborn and stung. Haoran looks down at her sideways, doubtful, eyebrows up. The gateposts and trees behind them; the sky is the quiet area. No other people near, NOT a crowd. No writing anywhere.
I'm going to beat her. In the reading test.阅读测验,我要赢她。
In seven weeks? She's been reading Chinese since she was three.就七个星期?人家三岁就认字了。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before), warm light from the high window. Xiaoyu climbs the worn concrete stairs alone towards Grandpa's landing, school bag on her back, one hand on the rail, head up, determined; we look down on her from above. The bicycle and pot plants on the landing below her. The plain stair wall is the quiet area. No other people.
Seven weeks, to read as well as anyone in that class. And to stop being a fish.七个星期,我要读得不输给班上任何人,也不再当那条“鱼”。
3
Late afternoon, warm sun across the terrazzo floor. Mama, in her pale blue-grey blouse, crouches at the low wooden cabinet under the old radio, pressing a white paper label onto the front of its top drawer with her thumb; a fat black marker pen and a little stack of more labels lie on the cabinet top. Every drawer and cupboard in sight already has a white paper label stuck on it, the labels covered in thick black marker scribble, NOT readable. Grandpa sits in his olive-green armchair beside her, watching, puzzled and polite, his glasses on the cord at his chest. Xiaoyu has just come in through the front door on the left, still in her school tracksuit, school bag on one shoulder, looking round at all the labels in surprise. The plain cream wall above is the quiet area. Only these three.
At home, Mama was writing rules. Grandpa had lost his keys twice that week.家里,妈妈在写规矩。这个星期,外公丢了两回钥匙。
If it's written down, he can follow it.写下来,他就能照着做。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Close on the top drawer of the low wooden cabinet, its small brass handle, and the white paper label stuck on it, with thick black marker scribble on it, NOT readable. Mama's hand smooths the label's corner flat with one finger. The wood grain and soft shadow around it are quiet.
KEYS HERE钥匙放这里
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Close on the small two-ring gas stove in Grandpa's tiny kitchen, the gas knob at the front, and a white paper label taped to the white tiles just above it, with a big black marker scribble and a thick black underline, NOT readable. A kettle sits on one ring, cold. Plain white tiles around it.
TURN OFF THE GAS!记得关煤气!
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Mama, standing now, holds out one sheet of paper with both hands towards Xiaoyu, who is off panel to the LEFT; the sheet faces Xiaoyu, so we see only its plain back with a faint printed grid showing through, NOT readable. Mama looks left at her, tired, determined, meaning well. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain wall behind.
And these are yours. Stroke order tables. A hundred characters a day.这个给你,笔顺表。一天一百个字。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu holds the stroke-order table in both hands at her chest, the printed side FACING HER, so we see only its plain back, NOT readable; she looks up and to the RIGHT at Mama off panel, chin up, resolved. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain wall behind.
A hundred a day. Fine.一天一百个。行。
4
Early next morning, pale light through the balcony doors. Grandpa, in his grey cardigan, has just come in from his morning walk and hangs his small ring of three keys on a red string on an old iron hook beside the front door frame, at his own shoulder height, without looking, the way he has for forty years. He walks right past the low wooden cabinet with its white label on the top drawer (marker scribble, NOT readable), not even glancing at it. His face is calm and ordinary. The keys on the hook are the clearest thing. The plain wall above is the quiet area. Only Grandpa.
Grandpa never read one label.那些字条,外公一张也没看过。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Grandpa's old hands at the kitchen counter: one hand drops a small pinch of green tea leaves into a tall clear drinking glass, the other holds the red-and-gold flowered thermos flask by its handle, ready to pour; every move sure and easy. His face is out of frame above. The plain white tiles behind are quiet.
But his hands still knew the way.可他的手,还认得路。
Morning (the same time as the panel before), daylight on the balcony, the river pale behind. Grandpa's big hands set the last cream pawns in their row on the Western 8 by 8 chessboard on the small folding table, quick and exact, the other pieces already standing on their squares in the real chess starting position: an 8 by 8 board with a LIGHT square in each player's right-hand corner; the dark pieces fill only the two far rows (back row rook, knight, bishop, queen, king, bishop, knight, rook; front row eight dark pawns), the cream pieces fill the two near rows the same way, exactly one piece on each of those squares, every piece standing inside a square, none on the frame or off the board, the four middle rows empty. His tall glass of pale green tea stands beside the board on the table, NOT held. His face is out of frame above. The pale sky over the river is the quiet area.
Grandpa's hands knew more than he could say. The thinker Michael Polanyi (1966) said we all "know more than we can tell". That is why rules are so hard to write down.外公手上会的,比嘴上说得出的多。思想家波兰尼(1966)说过,我们知道的,总比说得出的多。所以规则才那么难写。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Mama stands by the front door holding open the empty labelled drawer of the low cabinet with one hand, and looks up at the keys hanging on the old iron hook beside the door: a long, tired sigh, half fond, half defeated. Plain wall behind.
Every label, and he walks straight past.贴了一屋子字条,他看都不看。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu, already in her navy-and-white school tracksuit, stands on the left and asks Grandpa a question, looking right up at him, curious. Grandpa on the right, his tall glass of tea now standing on the counter, laughs and shrugs with both open hands, eyes twinkling, a little puzzled by the question. Xiaoyu reaches his chest. Plain tiles behind them; the small window is the quiet area.
‹Grandpa, how do you make tea? The rules?›外公,泡茶有什么规则呀?
‹Rules? You just… make it. My hands know.›规则?泡就是了,手晓得。
5
Night, the desk lamp the only light. Xiaoyu, in her faded sky-blue thistle t-shirt, sits at the small desk under the window with the stroke-order table propped against the wall in front of her (a printed grid of small boxes, NOT readable) and a sheet of squared practice paper (white with a pale green grid of squares) under her right hand, already half full of rows of small pencil characters drawn as scribble strokes, NOT readable. A neat stack of finished sheets beside her. She writes, upright, careful, determined. The dark window above the desk is the quiet area.
Try one was rules. Stroke order tables, and a hundred characters a day.第一个办法,背规则。笔顺表,一天一百个字。
Night (the same time as the panel before). Close over her shoulder (faded sky-blue t-shirt sleeve) onto her right hand writing one character into one green square, the pencil held properly, the stroke half drawn. The marks are pencil scribble strokes only, NOT readable characters. The lamp lights the paper; the rest is dark and quiet.
Across before down. Top before bottom. Left before right. Outside before inside.先横后竖,先上后下,先左后右,先外后内。
Night (the same time as the panel before). We are inside Xiaoyu's room. Outside on the shared balcony, Haoran, in his red basketball vest over a white t-shirt (home clothes), leans his forearms on the windowsill of her open window, head and shoulders in the frame, one wired earbud in his LEFT ear (on the viewer's right); he peers at the stack of practice sheets on her desk, impressed and a little doubtful. He looks LEFT and down towards her. The dark sky over the city lights is the quiet area.
You learn them in order? Straight down the list?你按顺序背的?从头背到尾?
Every one. I can write them all.一个不落。我全会写。
Friday morning in mid-September, window light. Dictation. Teacher Fang stands at the front, facing the class, reading aloud from an open textbook held in one hand, calm and clear. In the near ground on the right, Xiaoyu sits at her desk in her tracksuit with a pencil over a dictation sheet (white with pale lines), seen from behind and a little to the side, her face in profile, shoulders tense. A few other pupils' backs bent over their desks, quiet shapes. The plain wall above the board is the quiet area. NOT any readable writing.
Two weeks in. Friday dictation.上学两个星期了。星期五,听写。
‹Number one. "Shìqing." The shì in shìqing.›第一个,“事情”的“事”。
6
Friday morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu sits frozen over her dictation sheet, pencil stopped in the air, eyes wide and darting, a bead of sweat at her temple: panic. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall behind.
Shì? Which shì? There are five on my list!哪个shì?表上有五个呢!
是 事 市 室 试是 事 市 室 试
Friday morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili sits at her own desk in the next row, ACROSS THE AISLE to Xiaoyu's right, NOT at Xiaoyu's desk by the window. We look at her from the aisle: she is turned three-quarters toward the VIEWER'S LEFT, and behind her is the inner side of the room, the plain cream wall with its green lower band and the back cabinet, NO window behind her (the windows are on the far side, out of frame). At the left edge of the panel, just the corner of Xiaoyu's desk across the aisle and one blue tracksuit sleeve, cut off by the frame, to show they sit apart. Lili writes fast and neatly on her own dictation sheet, relaxed, a little smile, her pencil moving; she does not even look up. The sheet lies flat facing her, its writing too small to read (soft pencil grey only, no character shapes). The plain wall above her is the quiet area.
‹Number two. "Jiàoshì." The shì in jiàoshì.›第二个,“教室”的“室”。
The next Monday morning, window light. Teacher Fang walks between the desks handing back the marked dictation sheets, matter-of-fact. Xiaoyu in the middle holds hers in both hands, its marked side FACING HER, so we see only its back with faint red marks showing through: she stares at it, crushed. Across the aisle on the right, Lili holds her own sheet up a little, pleased, red ticks showing through its back. No numbers anywhere, NOT any readable mark. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
‹Wang Lili, twenty out of twenty. Zhou Xiaoyu… five.›王丽丽,二十个全对。周小雨……对了五个。
Monday morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili leans towards her deskmate (only the deskmate's shoulder and two short plaits at the panel's RIGHT edge, NO face) and whispers behind her hand, grinning, her eyes sliding LEFT towards Xiaoyu off panel. Plain wall behind.
‹Porridge Fish can't even write "rain".›粥小鱼连“雨”都不会写。
Monday morning (the same time as the panel before). Seen from Xiaoyu's eyes, looking down: her dictation sheet lies flat on the desk, facing her and us, a column of twenty lines of pencil scribble, NOT readable, most of them crossed through with red pen crosses, a few with small red ticks; NO numbers, NO letters. Her two hands (navy tracksuit cuffs, the black watch on her LEFT wrist, on the viewer's left) rest at either side of the sheet, fingers curled tight. The plain desk around it is quiet.
I could write every character on my list. But the teacher read out whole words, and I couldn't tell which shì went in which word.表上的字,我个个都会写。可老师念的是词,我分不清该用哪个shì。
7
Monday, late afternoon, warm light from the high window. Haoran, in his navy-and-white school tracksuit, school bag on one shoulder, one earbud in his LEFT ear, stops on the landing and looks down and to the RIGHT at Xiaoyu sitting on the top step off panel, with her marked sheet; he winces, then brightens, already planning. Plain stair wall behind.
Five out of twenty? I'll write you a program.二十个对五个?我给你写个程序。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Over Haoran's shoulder (navy tracksuit with white stripes): he sits on the top step with his sticker-covered silver laptop open on his knees, typing fast. The screen shows a plain dark code editor with short lines of soft grey and green bars, NOT readable. The rest of the panel is the dim stairwell, quiet.
Try two was Haoran's rule machine. In the 1970s and 80s, much AI was built this way, from experts' rules typed in as "if this, then that".第二个办法,是浩然的规则机器。上世纪七八十年代,很多人工智能就是这么造的,把专家的规则一条条写成“如果这样,就那样”。
IF "shìqing", write 事. IF "chéngshì", write 市. IF "kǎoshì", write 试…听到“事情”,写“事”。听到“城市”,写“市”。听到“考试”,写“试”……
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu and Haoran sit side by side on the top step, both in school tracksuits; he is half a head taller. Xiaoyu holds her open textbook in both hands, its pages FACING HER, reading a sentence aloud, earnest. Haoran, his sticker-covered laptop on his knees with its screen facing him, types what she says, then stares at the screen, his face falling. The high window above is the quiet area. No other people.
‹"Zhè shì wǒ de shì."› This is my business.“这是我的事。”
Two shì in one sentence. Two different characters. It got both wrong.一句话里两个shì,是两个不同的字。程序全写错了。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Haoran hunches over his laptop on his knees, typing furiously with both hands, tongue between his teeth, hair sticking up, a sweat drop at his temple in the manga way. The screen faces him; its glow on his glasses. Plain stair wall behind.
Fine. After "zhè", write 是. Unless it's… no, wait…行。“这”后面写“是”。除非……不对,等等……
Later, the window light now low and orange. Haoran leans back against the stair wall, the laptop open on his knees, the screen facing him, arms dropped, defeated, half laughing at himself. Plain wall above.
Forty rules. Every rule needs another rule.都四十条了,每条规则还得再补一条。
8
Late afternoon, the low orange window light. Haoran shuts the laptop lid on his knees with one hand and turns to Xiaoyu, off panel to the RIGHT, with a teasing, challenging look, one finger raised. Plain stair wall behind.
Words are hard. Pictures are worse. Tell me the rules for a cat.字就够难了,图更难。你倒说说,猫的规则是啥?
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu sits on the step and counts off on the fingers of one hand, the fingers clearly apart, looking LEFT towards Haoran, pleased with herself, sure it is easy. Plain wall behind.
Pointy ears. Whiskers. Four legs and a tail. Fur. Easy.尖耳朵,有胡子,四条腿一条尾巴,有毛。简单!
A concept panel: four small square pictures lying side by side on a plain pale table, each with a thin white border like a printed photo, drawn in the same simple manga style, NOT photo-real. Left to right: a grey tabby cat curled up asleep, its legs and tail tucked out of sight; a ginger cat seen from behind, sitting, NO face visible; a hairless pale pink cat with big ears and no fur at all; and a red fox standing side-on, with pointed ears, whiskers, four legs, a bushy tail and fur. Each picture its own clear rectangle with a gap between them. No writing, no labels, NOT any letters. The plain table above them is the quiet area.
A sleeping cat shows no legs. A cat from behind shows no whiskers. Some cats have no fur. And a fox has every one of them.睡着的猫,看不见腿。背过身的猫,看不见胡子。有的猫,一根毛都没有。狐狸呢,这几样全都有。
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Haoran, his laptop closed on his knees, explains with one open hand, serious now, enjoying it; he looks to the RIGHT towards Xiaoyu off panel. Plain wall behind.
And a computer can't even see ears. To it, a photo is just numbers.而且电脑根本看不见耳朵。照片在它眼里,只是一堆数。
So how does my phone find my cats?那我手机怎么认得出猫?
Late afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu holds her own phone (sky-blue case, cracked corner) the ordinary way in one hand at chest height, her thumb on the screen, the screen tilted up towards her face; on the screen, a plain photo gallery of small square pictures, a few of them cats, no words. She looks at it, then across at Haoran, puzzled. Haoran leans in to look, then turns to her with a knowing grin. The high window above is the quiet area.
Nobody wrote it rules. It learned from examples.没人给它写规则。它是看例子学会的。
9
Saturday morning, bright daylight through the balcony doors. Mama crouches at the low wooden cabinet under the radio with BOTH its drawers pulled open, the white labels still on their fronts (marker scribble, NOT readable), and looks into them, exasperated, one hand to her forehead. Xiaoyu, in her faded sky-blue thistle t-shirt and khaki shorts, stands at the right, leaning over to look in, curious. The plain wall above is the quiet area. Only these two; Grandpa is on the balcony, out of frame.
He's mixed up every drawer!每个抽屉都让他搅乱了!
Saturday morning (the same time as the panel before). Looking straight down into the two open drawers side by side. The LEFT drawer holds only ROUND things, neatly together: buttons of many colours, a few coins, three bottle caps, two glass marbles, a small round tin lid. The RIGHT drawer holds only PAPER things, in neat piles: folded receipts, old envelopes, a stack of postcards with plain pictures, and under them the corner of an old square biscuit tin with a faded flowered lid. Nothing has any readable writing, NOT any letters or numbers. The keys are NOT in either drawer. The drawer edges frame it; quiet wood around.
Saturday morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu kneels by the open drawers and points from the left drawer to the right drawer with one finger, looking LEFT up at Mama off panel, eyes bright with discovery. Plain wall behind.
He didn't mix them up, Mum. Look. Round things here. Paper things there. He made his own piles.妈,他没搅乱。你看,圆的放一起,纸的放一起。他有他自己的分法。
Saturday morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu, kneeling, lifts the old square biscuit tin out of the paper drawer in both hands and has just opened its faded flowered lid: inside, a neat stack of small, worn, landscape-shaped picture books with faded colour covers. Grandpa has come in from the balcony on the right and stops, his whole face lighting up with delight, both hands lifting. Glasses on the cord at his chest. Xiaoyu looks right up at him. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
‹My little picture books! I thought they were long gone.›我的小人书!我还当早没了呢。
Saturday morning (the same time as the panel before). Mama has stood up; she looks at the tin (off panel to the RIGHT, low), and goes very still: her face closes, something hurt and far away in her eyes, her lips pressed. She is half turning away towards the kitchen. Plain wall behind her, the doorway dim.
…Where did you find those?……你从哪儿翻出来的?
10
That night, one warm lamp lit beside the sofa, the balcony glass dark. Grandpa and Xiaoyu sit close on the beige sofa with its white lace covers; Xiaoyu in her faded sky-blue thistle t-shirt. Grandpa, with his reading glasses ON his nose because he reads, holds a small open picture book in his left hand, its pages FACING THEM, his right forefinger under a line, reading aloud with a storyteller's relish. Xiaoyu leans in against his arm, eyes on his finger, lips moving. The open biscuit tin sits on the sofa at her side. The plain wall above them is the quiet area. Only these two.
Try three was Grandpa's little picture books.第三个办法,外公的小人书。
‹"Deep in the night, the swordsman crossed the great river."›“夜深了,侠客渡过大江。”
Night (the same time as the panel before), lamplight. Looking over their shoulders straight down at one small open picture book. The page on the right is a fine black-and-white line drawing of a swordsman standing in a small boat on a wide river under a moon, with a block of short grey scribble lines under the drawing, NOT readable. In the bottom margin of the left-hand page, a small childish crayon drawing of an orange cat, NOT writing. Grandpa's big forefinger rests under the scribble lines. Quiet dark around the book.
Every page was a picture, with its words underneath.每一页都是一幅画,画底下配着字。
Night (the same time as the panel before), lamplight. Grandpa on the left holds the little book, its pages facing them, glasses on his nose, and nods, warm, a patient teacher. Xiaoyu on the right points with one finger at a word on the page and sounds it out, unsure. Plain dark wall behind.
‹Jiāng?›江?
‹Jiāng. A big river. Next.›江,大河。下一个。
Night (the same time as the panel before), the kitchen light behind her. Mama stands in the kitchen doorway holding the stroke-order table in one hand (its back to us, plain), looking across the room to the RIGHT at the sofa off panel; her voice is sharper than she means, her face tight, tired, and not looking at the tin. Plain wall beside the door.
Xiaoyu. Your hundred characters? Those are comics, not homework.小雨,一百个字写了没有?那是小人书,不是作业。
Night (the same time as the panel before), lamplight. Xiaoyu holds the closed little picture book against her chest with both hands and looks LEFT across the room at Mama off panel, stubborn but gentle, chin up. Grandpa is out of frame. Plain dark wall behind her.
I'll do your hundred, Mum. Then I'm reading with Grandpa.妈,一百个字我会写完。写完我就跟外公看书。
Twenty pages a night. Then forty. I didn't learn a single rule.一晚二十页,后来四十页。规则,我一条也没背。
11
Two weeks later, at night, lamplight. Xiaoyu, in her faded sky-blue thistle t-shirt, jabs a finger at a word on the little picture book Grandpa holds (only his big hand holding it shows at the panel's LEFT edge, the pages facing her); she grins, proud and quick, looking at the page. Plain dark wall behind.
Two weeks later.两个星期以后。
‹Jiàn! Sword!›剑!
Night (the same time as the panel before). Grandpa, glasses on his nose, lays his big flat palm over the top half of the open little book, hiding the picture and leaving only the lines of words below it showing; the pages face Xiaoyu, off panel to the RIGHT. He looks right at her over his glasses with a sly, testing half smile, the old chess teacher. Plain dark wall behind.
‹Again. Without the picture.›再念一遍,别看画。
Night (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu, on the right, stares at the uncovered line of words, mouth open, nothing coming, caught out, a big sweat drop in the manga way. Grandpa, on the left, still covering the picture with his palm, throws back his head and laughs, delighted, wagging the forefinger of his other hand at her. Glasses on his nose. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
‹You've been reading the pictures, not the words!›你这是看画呢,不是认字!
He'd taught chess to the whole park for forty years. He could still catch a pupil cheating.他在公园里教了四十年棋。学生耍的小聪明,他一眼就看穿。
A concept panel in the same simple manga style, NOT photo-real: two square pictures side by side on a plain pale ground, each with a thin white border like a printed photo. Left, a grey wolf standing in deep white snow, snowflakes falling. Right, a grey-and-white husky dog standing on green summer grass. Each picture its own clear rectangle with a gap between them. No writing, NOT any labels. The plain pale space above is the quiet area.
RIGHT FOR THE WRONG REASON. A learner can find a shortcut. Scientists once trained a program, on purpose, on photos where every wolf stood in snow. It learned "snow means wolf". Xiaoyu had learned "a sword in the picture means 剑".答对了,理由却不对。学东西也会抄近路。有科学家故意拿一批照片训练程序,照片里的狼都站在雪地上。程序学会的是“有雪就是狼”。小雨学会的,是“画里有剑,就念‘剑’”。
12
A week later, at night, lamplight. Grandpa, glasses on his nose, holds the little book open in both hands in front of his chest, the open pages facing HIM and tilted up toward his eyes, so from where we are we see only the OUTSIDE of the book: its plain worn back cover and the edge of the spine toward us, NO page, picture or writing visible to us. One forefinger curls over the top edge of the book and points down onto a word on the page he is reading, and stays there. His face is confused, then frightened: brows knitted, lips moving without sound, the word not coming. Plain dark wall behind.
‹This one… this one is…›这个……这个字……
Night (the same time as the panel before). Grandpa lifts his finger from the words and taps the picture above them instead, a line drawing of the swordsman leaping over a wall; his face eases into a brave, slightly shaky smile, telling the story from memory. Glasses on his nose. Plain dark wall behind.
‹Never mind. Here he jumps the wall. I know this one.›不管它。这儿他翻墙了。这段我熟得很。
Night (the same time as the panel before), lamplight. Xiaoyu, on the right, leans in and gently puts her finger under the word where his had been, reading it for him, softly; her face tender and careful. Grandpa looks at her finger, then at her, relieved and a little ashamed, then grateful. The little book's pages face them. The plain wall above is the quiet area.
‹Qiáng. Wall.›墙。
‹…Qiáng. Right. Good girl.›……墙。对。好孩子。
Some nights he lost words I had only just found.有些晚上,我刚认得的字,他却不认得了。
Mid-October, morning, window light. Xiaoyu, in her school tracksuit, sits up straight at her desk and looks up at the board (off panel, ahead), eyes suddenly wide and bright, a slow surprised smile: she sees something. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall behind.
Then something odd happened. I started to see parts.后来出了件怪事。我开始看出字里的零件。
江 河 湖 海江 河 湖 海
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Close on Xiaoyu's squared practice paper (white with a pale green grid) on her desk, her right hand drawing a small pencil circle round the left-hand part of four pencil characters in a column; the characters are soft pencil scribble, NOT readable; only the little circled marks on their left sides, three short strokes like drops, are clear. Quiet desk around it.
Three drops of water on the left. River, river, lake, sea. Nobody told me.左边三点水。江、河、湖、海。没人教过我。
13
That afternoon, after school, warm light from the high window. Xiaoyu, in her school tracksuit, stands on the landing with one finger raised like a professor, triumphant, looking to the RIGHT at Haoran off panel. Plain stair wall behind.
Three water drops means it's about water. Every time!三点水,就是跟水有关。每次都是!
Afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Haoran, in his school tracksuit, sitting on the top step, holds up his school exercise book with the plain bright yellow cover, open, its page FACING XIAOYU off panel to the LEFT, so we see only the yellow back cover; a pen in his other hand; he grins, enjoying this. Plain wall behind.
I've just written a character with the drops. It means law.我刚写了个字,也有三点水。意思是“法律”。
法法
Afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu, sitting now beside Haoran on the top step, holds her own phone (sky-blue case) the ordinary way in one hand, her thumb on its edge, the screen tilted towards his laptop camera; on her phone screen, a manga-style picture of an orange cat sitting on a school wall, no words. Haoran's sticker-covered laptop sits open on his knees, its screen facing him; he looks at the screen, then does a double take, mouth open. Xiaoyu watches him, deadpan. The high window above is the quiet area.
I built a cat finder from examples this time. A hundred out of a hundred! Try your cat.我也做了个认猫程序,这回是看例子学的。一百张全对!拿你的猫试试。
NOT A CAT.不是猫。
Afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Haoran slumps, glasses slipping down his nose, staring at the laptop screen (facing him, its glow on his face): crestfallen, then honest. Plain wall behind.
It just learned my hundred photos by heart.它就是把我那一百张照片背下来了。
Afternoon (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu looks RIGHT at Haoran off panel with a small wry smile, rueful and fond, knowing exactly what that feels like. Plain stair wall behind.
Like me and my list.跟我背字表一样。
OVERFITTING. Haoran's program learned his photos by heart, the way Xiaoyu learned her list. It gets those right, and anything new goes wrong.过拟合。浩然的程序把他的照片背了下来,就像小雨背字表。背过的全对,一碰新的就错。
14
Afternoon (the same time as page 14). Haoran on the left, his laptop open on his knees with its screen facing him, drags a few small picture squares on the screen into a separate folder, his face set, a new plan; on the right Xiaoyu leans in to look, interested. The high window above is the quiet area.
GENERALISATION is the real goal, doing well on new examples. So builders keep some examples locked away for the test. Peeking spoils it, like seeing the exam paper.泛化,就是举一反三,碰到新例子也能做对,这才是真正的目标。所以做程序的人会锁起一些例子,专门留着考。偷看就不算了,就像提前看了考卷。
So I lock some photos away, and only test on those at the very end.那我先锁起一些照片,留到最后再拿来考。
Late October, morning, cooler light through the windows, yellow leaves outside. Teacher Fang stands at the front with a sealed brown paper envelope of test papers held up in one hand, calm, a little mischievous. Her face in the middle of the panel. The green board behind her is wiped blank, NOT any writing.
‹Friday is the reading test. A story none of you have ever seen.›星期五阅读测验。考一篇你们谁都没见过的文章。
Morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili, at her desk with her textbook open in front of her, looks up at the teacher, off panel ahead and to the LEFT; for the first time her sure face wavers: brows up, a small worried frown. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain wall behind.
‹Not from the textbook?›不是课本里的?
Break time, the same morning. Xiaoyu sits at her desk on the left; one small worn picture book from Grandpa's tin pokes out of her desk. Lili, from the right, has leaned across the aisle and plucked it out with two fingers, holding it up by its corner, smirking, eyebrows raised. Xiaoyu looks right at her, steady, not ashamed. The plain wall above them is the quiet area. No other faces.
‹Baby picture books, Porridge Fish?›还看小人书呢,粥小鱼?
‹My grandpa's. Give it back, please.›我外公的。请还给我。
15
Friday 30 October, morning, mild autumn light, yellow plane-tree leaves outside the windows. The reading test: the pupils bend over their papers in silence. Xiaoyu in the middle-left reads her test paper, the paper flat on her desk facing her (lines of grey scribble, NOT readable), pencil ready, calm and focused. Across the aisle on the right, Lili reads hers, upright. A few other pupils as quiet backs, no faces. Teacher Fang is out of frame. The window light and the plain wall above are the quiet area.
Friday the thirtieth. A story none of us had seen, an old tale about a girl who crosses a river at night.三十号,星期五。一篇谁都没见过的文章,讲一个女孩夜里过江的老故事。
Friday morning (the same time as the panel before). Close on Xiaoyu over her test paper: her pencil rests under one word, and a small private smile breaks on her face; she knows it. Behind her head, softly, like a memory, a faint grey ghost of the picture-book drawing of a swordsman in a small boat under a moon. Her face in the middle of the panel. Quiet around.
Dù, to cross. I'd seen that word forty times, under a picture of a little boat.“渡”字,我见过四十回了,就在一条小船的画底下。
渡渡
Friday morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili frowns hard at her test paper (facing her, scribble, NOT readable), pencil end pressed to her lip, stuck on a word for the first time; worried, not used to it. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain wall behind.
Friday morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu writes her answers steadily, seen from behind and a little to the side, her shoulders relaxed. Her school bag hangs on the back of her chair, one small worn picture book poking out of its pocket. The window light falls across her desk. The plain wall and window above are the quiet area.
16
The next Monday morning, window light. Teacher Fang stands at the front holding a short list of marks on a sheet facing her (its back to us, plain), reading aloud, then pausing and looking up over the sheet towards the class with a small, pleased smile. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain board wiped blank behind.
‹Wang Lili, sixteen out of twenty. Zhou Xiaoyu…›王丽丽,二十道题对了十六道。周小雨……
Monday morning (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu sits very still at her desk, eyes wide, both hands flat on the desk, not daring to believe it; a held breath. Her face in the middle of the panel, NOT in the top quarter. Plain wall behind.
‹…seventeen.›……十七道。
Monday morning (the same time as the panel before). Lili, on the right, turns sharply in her seat to stare at Xiaoyu, caught out, cheeks red, mouth open. Xiaoyu, on the left, looks down at her desk and lets out a long breath, a small, shaky, unbelieving smile; she does NOT gloat. The plain wall above them is the quiet area. No other faces.
One mark.多一分。
Break time, the same morning. Lili stands by Xiaoyu's desk (Xiaoyu off panel to the LEFT, sitting), arms folded, frowning, but asking for real: puzzled, a little embarrassed. Her face in the middle of the panel. Plain wall behind.
‹How? Two months ago you couldn't write "rain".›怎么做到的?两个月前你连“雨”都不会写。
‹My grandpa's picture books. Every night.›我外公的小人书。天天晚上看。
Break time (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu, sitting, looks up and to the right at Lili, honest and open, a small smile. Lili, standing, unfolds her arms and looks down at her, a grudging, curious half smile breaking through. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
‹…Xiǎoyǔ. Can I see them some time?›……小雨。哪天借我看看?
She said my name right. Rain, not fish.她把我的名字念对了。是雨,不是鱼。
17
That evening, warm lamplight and the last dusk at the balcony doors. Xiaoyu, still in her school tracksuit, holds up her marked test paper in both hands towards Grandpa, its marked side FACING HIM, so we see only its plain back with faint red marks showing through. Grandpa, in his olive-green armchair on the right, glasses on the cord at his chest, leans forward and claps his big hands, laughing, proud. The plain wall above is the quiet area.
‹Seventeen! Who taught you that?›十七道!谁教的?
‹You did.›你教的呀。
Evening (the same time as the panel before), lamplight. Mama stands at the low wooden cabinet looking at the white label on its top drawer (marker scribble, NOT readable), tired and thoughtful. Xiaoyu beside her on the right points to the old iron hook by the front door, where the ring of keys on its red string hangs, and looks up at Mama, gentle and sure. Plain wall above.
Mum, he doesn't read rules. His hands remember. Put things where his hands already go.妈,他不看规矩的,他的手记得。东西就放在他顺手的地方吧。
Evening (the same time as the panel before). Mama peels the white paper label off the top drawer of the low cabinet with her fingertips, slowly; a small, tired, real smile, the first in a long while. The label curls in her fingers, its marker scribble NOT readable. Plain wood and wall around.
Habits, not rules. The gas label stays.靠习惯,不靠规矩。煤气那张,留着。
Evening (the same time as the panel before). Wide and calm. Mama walks off towards the kitchen doorway on the left to make tea, a crumpled label in one hand. Grandpa in his armchair on the right has the open biscuit tin on his knees and lifts out one small picture book, smiling to himself. Xiaoyu, in her school tracksuit, flops down on the sofa in the middle, happy and tired. The labels are gone from every drawer in sight. The plain wall above is the quiet area.
Tea, and picture books. Like every night now.喝茶,看小人书。现在每天晚上都这样。
18
Night, one warm lamp. This time XIAOYU holds the little picture book open in her lap, its pages FACING HER, her finger under a line, reading aloud. Grandpa sits close beside her on the left, his glasses back on the cord at his chest, his head tipped back against the lace sofa cover, eyes half closed, listening, peaceful and happy, like a man being read to. The plain wall above them is the quiet area.
That night, I read to him.那天晚上,换我念给他听。
Night (the same time as the panel before), lamplight on one side of his face. Grandpa, eyes half closed, smiles a warm, far-away, fatherly smile, and pats the air beside him as if patting a small child's knee; he speaks softly, looking RIGHT towards Xiaoyu off panel but seeing someone else. Glasses on the cord at his chest. Plain dark wall behind.
‹Huihui. One more page, then bed.›慧慧,再看一页,就睡觉。
Night (the same time as the panel before). Xiaoyu has stopped reading mid-line, her finger still on the page; she slowly turns her head to the LEFT to look at Grandpa off panel, eyes wide, her mouth a little open, shock, tenderness and hurt at once. The little book lies open in her lap, its pages facing her. Plain dark wall behind.
Huihui is Mama's name.慧慧,是妈妈的名字。
Night (the same time as the panel before), the kitchen lit by its bare bulb. Mama stands at the counter, turned towards the living-room doorway on the LEFT, listening; her face has gone white and still. A small blue-and-white tea cup has just slipped from her fingers and falls towards the cream terrazzo floor, a little tea flying out of it, caught in mid-air. Her empty hand is still open where the cup was. Plain white tiles behind.
They were Mama's books. The crayon cat was hers.那些小人书,是妈妈的。那只蜡笔画的猫,也是她画的。
crash啪
Night (the same time as the panel before). Mama stands in the kitchen doorway, one hand pressed over her mouth, eyes full of tears, looking LEFT across the dark living room towards the sofa off panel. At her feet on the terrazzo floor lie the pieces of the small blue-and-white cup in a little spill of tea. The bright kitchen behind her; the dark doorway frame around her is the quiet area.
When she was eleven, he read them to her every night.她十一岁那年,外公每天晚上念给她听。
Next: Chapter 4. One Little Neuron.下一章:第四章 一个小小的神经元
19

The ideas, a little slower

Some ideas in this chapter were left to the pictures, so the quiet nights with Grandpa could stay quiet. Here they are in words.

On page 8 Haoran builds a rule machine. In the 1970s and 80s programs like it were called expert systems. People asked experts how they decided things and typed the answers in as rules, "if this, then that". One called MYCIN chose medicines for blood infections with about 500 rules. Programs like it worked well inside their small job and broke at the edges, the way Haoran's broke on the second shì.

On page 9 Haoran says nobody wrote the phone any rules. It learned from examples. People collect thousands of photos, each marked "cat" or "not cat", and let the computer find a rule that fits. That is called machine learning. People choose the examples. The rule, the computer finds.

On page 11 every page of Grandpa's picture books is a drawing with its words underneath. That is like the first of three main ways a machine can learn. In the first, every example comes with its answer, like a photo marked "cat" or a picture with its words. In the second there are no answers at all. The machine sorts things into groups of its own, the way Grandpa sorted his drawers into round things and paper things, and there is no single right way to sort. In the third the machine learns by trying. It does something, gets a reward or doesn't, and does better next time. That is how game-playing programs learn.

On page 13 Xiaoyu starts to see the three drops of water on the left of 江, 河, 湖 and 海. Nobody told her. In AI a clue like that is called a feature. For many years people chose the clues by hand, telling a program to look at colour, or edges, or shape. Today's big networks find their own clues from many examples, small ones first, like edges, then parts, then whole things. Xiaoyu did something similar after weeks of pictures and words.

On page 16 the test story is new to everyone, but it is an old tale about a river at night, the same kind of story as Grandpa's books. That is why her weeks of reading helped. Learning from examples works best when the new thing comes from the same kind of world as the old ones. A program that learned cats from indoor photos can fail on cats in snow. If the test had been about science, Xiaoyu's picture books would have helped much less.

On page 14 Haoran's cat finder learned his hundred photos by heart, and Xiaoyu knew every character on her list but could not use them in new words. Learning examples too closely, accidents and all, is called overfitting. The opposite mistake is a rule too simple, like "water drops mean water", which goes wrong on 法, law. That is called underfitting. The best learning lies in between.

What is true here

Try writing the rules for a cat

The things we know without thinking are the hardest to write rules for. Try it with a cat. Four legs? A sleeping cat shows none. Whiskers? Not from behind. Fur? A Sphynx cat has none. And a fox passes every rule you write.

A computer has it harder still, because it does not even see ears. A small colour photo, 224 pixels by 224, reaches it as about 150,000 numbers and nothing else.

Experts know more than they can tell

The philosopher Michael Polanyi wrote that "we can know more than we can tell". Experts often cannot say the rules they use, and that is one reason rules are so hard to write down.

The expert systems of the 1970s and 80s tried anyway. MYCIN, which chose antibiotics for blood infections, used somewhere between 450 and 600 rules, depending on the version. In tests it did about as well as specialists, though it was never used routinely in hospitals. Every rule had to be drawn out of experts in long interviews, and systems like it failed at the edges of what they knew, as Haoran's rule machine fails on the second shì.

Who writes the rule?

In machine learning, people collect examples, label each one with the right answer, and let an automatic procedure find a rule that fits. People still choose a great deal. They pick the kind of model, the examples and the labels. Only the rule itself is found by the machine, and it is often hard for anyone to read, even the people who built it.

Deep networks also find their own clues. Early on they pick up edges, then textures, then parts, and at last whole objects.

Three ways to learn

Learning from examples that come with answers, like Grandpa's drawings with their words underneath, is called supervised learning. Finding groups with no answers given, like Grandpa's drawers of round things and paper things, is unsupervised learning. Learning by trying things and getting rewards is reinforcement learning, the way game-playing programs learn.

Right for the wrong reason

A model can give the right answer for the wrong reason. Three researchers, Marco Ribeiro, Sameer Singh and Carlos Guestrin, showed this on purpose. They trained a program on photos in which every wolf stood on snow and every husky did not. It learned "snow means wolf". It was looking at the ground, not the animal.

Learning by heart

Learning the training examples too closely, accidents and all, is called overfitting. It is what Haoran's cat finder did with his hundred photos, and it is the risk in Lili's way of learning the whole textbook by heart. The opposite mistake, a rule too simple for the real pattern, is underfitting. The classic lesson is that the best model lies in between.

Very large modern networks make this story less neat. They can learn their training data by heart and still do well on new examples, and researchers are still working out why. The honest judge is always the same. Test on examples the model has never seen.

Five ways to say shì

是, 事, 市, 室 and 试 are all read shì. The stroke-order rules on page 6 are the ones Chinese children really learn. And "这是我的事" really does hold two different shì.

SourcesPolanyi (1966), The Tacit Dimension.Buchanan and Shortliffe (1984), Rule-Based Expert Systems, the MYCIN Experiments of the Stanford Heuristic Programming Project.Nilsson (2010), The Quest for Artificial Intelligence.Crevier (1993), AI, the Tumultuous History of the Search for Artificial Intelligence.Domingos (2012), A few useful things to know about machine learning.Mitchell (1997), Machine Learning.Goodfellow, Bengio and Courville (2016), Deep Learning.LeCun, Bengio and Hinton (2015), Deep learning.Sutton and Barto (2018), Reinforcement Learning, an Introduction.Ribeiro, Singh and Guestrin (2016), "Why should I trust you?" Explaining the predictions of any classifier.Geman, Bienenstock and Doursat (1992), Neural networks and the bias/variance dilemma.Hastie, Tibshirani and Friedman (2009), The Elements of Statistical Learning.Zhang and colleagues (2017), Understanding deep learning requires rethinking generalization.Belkin and colleagues (2019), Reconciling modern machine-learning practice and the classical bias-variance trade-off.

What is pretend

Bridge City, the school, Teacher Fang, Lili, Xiaoyu, Grandpa Chen, Haoran, Mama, the dictations, the reading test and its marks, Haoran's two programs, and Grandpa's picture books and their stories. Picture books like them were real, though: small "little people's books" (lianhuanhua), a picture on every page with its words underneath, which many Chinese children read in the 1970s and 1980s. Grandpa's memory is drawn from no one in particular, and the story makes no medical claim.

Who made this

Yingying Fu created this manga. She chose the story and its people, directed every page, and edited every word and picture. The words were drafted with Claude, an AI by Anthropic. The pictures are made with AI image generation, painted panel by panel from her direction and checked and corrected by hand.

慢慢再讲一遍

这一章有几个道理交给了画面,好让跟外公一起的那些晚上安安静静的。这里用文字再讲一遍。

第8页,浩然做了一台规则机器。上世纪七八十年代,这样的程序叫“专家系统”。人们去问专家是怎么判断的,再把答案一条条写成规则,“如果这样,就那样”。有个叫 MYCIN 的程序,用五百条左右的规则,给血液感染选药。这类程序在自己那一小块里很好用,一出边界就不灵了,就像浩然的程序碰上第二个 shì 就错。

第9页,浩然说,没人给手机写过规则,它是看例子学会的。人们找来成千上万张照片,每张都标上“是猫”或“不是猫”,让电脑自己找出一条合适的规则。这就叫机器学习。例子是人挑的,规则是电脑自己找的。

第11页,外公的小人书,每一页都是一幅画,画底下配着字。机器学东西主要有三种办法,这像是第一种。第一种,每个例子都带着答案,比如一张标着“猫”的照片,或者一幅配着字的画。第二种,根本没有答案,机器自己把东西分成几堆,就像外公把抽屉分成“圆的”和“纸的”,怎么分都不算错。第三种,边试边学。机器做一件事,得到奖励或者得不到,下回就做得更好。下棋、打游戏的程序,很多就是这么学的。

第13页,小雨开始看出江、河、湖、海左边都有三点水,没人教过她。在人工智能里,这样的线索叫“特征”。很多年里,线索都是人一个个挑好的,告诉程序去看颜色、边缘或者形状。今天的大型神经网络,会从大量例子里自己找线索,先找小的,比如边缘,再找零件,最后是整个东西。小雨看了几个星期的画和字,做的也是差不多的事。

第16页,考的那篇文章谁都没见过,可它讲的是一个女孩夜里过江的老故事,跟外公的小人书是一个路子。所以她那几个星期没白看。从例子里学,碰到的新东西跟旧例子是同一类,才最管用。一个只看过室内猫照片的程序,碰到雪地里的猫,可能就认不出来。要是那天考的是一篇讲科学的文章,小人书就帮不了她多少了。

第14页,浩然的认猫程序把他那一百张照片背了下来,小雨也是把字表背熟了,换到新词里却不会用。把例子学得太死,连碰巧的东西也学进去,叫“过拟合”。反过来的毛病,是规则太简单,比如“三点水就跟水有关”,碰上“法”字就错了。这叫“欠拟合”。最好的学法,在两者中间。

哪些是真的

试着给猫写规则

我们不用想就认得的东西,偏偏最难写成规则。拿猫试试。四条腿?睡着的猫一条也看不见。胡子?背过身就没有了。毛?斯芬克斯猫没有毛。而狐狸,你写的每一条它都符合。

电脑更难,它连耳朵都看不见。一张224×224像素的小彩照,到了它那里,只是大约十五万个数。

专家知道的,比说得出的多

哲学家波兰尼写过一句话,“我们知道的,比我们说得出的多”。专家常常说不清自己用的是哪些规则,这正是规则难写的一个原因。

七八十年代的专家系统还是硬着头皮去写。MYCIN 给血液感染挑抗生素,用了大约四百五十到六百条规则,各个版本不一样。测试时它跟专科医生差不多,不过从没在医院里日常使用。每条规则都要靠长长的访谈,从专家嘴里一点点挖出来。这类系统一到自己知识的边上就失灵,就像浩然的规则机器碰到第二个 shì 就卡住了。

规则是谁写的?

机器学习的做法是,人收集例子,每个例子标上正确答案,再让一套自动的办法找出合适的规则。人要选的东西其实很多,用什么样的模型,拿哪些例子,怎么标答案,都是人定的。只有规则本身是机器自己找出来的,而且往往谁也看不懂,连造它的人也一样。

深度网络连线索也自己找。先学会边缘,再是纹理,再是零件,最后才认出整个东西。

三种学法

例子都带着答案,就像外公小人书里每幅画下面都配着字,这叫监督学习。没有答案,自己去分组,就像外公把抽屉分成圆的和纸的,这叫无监督学习。边试边学,做对了有奖励,这叫强化学习,下棋打游戏的程序就是这样学的。

答对了,理由却错了

模型有时答对了,理由却完全不对。里贝罗、辛格和格斯特林三位研究者故意做了一个实验。他们拿来训练的照片里,狼全都站在雪地上,哈士奇都不在雪里。结果程序学会的是“有雪就是狼”。它看的是地面,不是动物。

死记硬背

把训练的例子学得太死,连里面的偶然和杂音也一起记住,这叫过拟合。浩然的认猫程序把他那一百张照片背了下来,就是这样。丽丽把整本课本背下来的办法,也藏着这个风险。反过来,规则太简单,抓不住真正的规律,叫欠拟合。经典的说法是,最好的模型在两者中间。

今天的超大网络让这个故事没那么整齐了。它们能把训练数据背得滚瓜烂熟,碰上新例子却照样做得好,为什么会这样,研究者还在找答案。最公正的裁判始终只有一个,拿模型从没见过的例子去考它。

五个 shì

是、事、市、室、试,这五个字都念 shì。第6页的笔顺规则,就是中国孩子真正学的那几条。“这是我的事”这句话里,也确实有两个不同的 shì。

出处Polanyi (1966), The Tacit Dimension.Buchanan and Shortliffe (1984), Rule-Based Expert Systems, the MYCIN Experiments of the Stanford Heuristic Programming Project.Nilsson (2010), The Quest for Artificial Intelligence.Crevier (1993), AI, the Tumultuous History of the Search for Artificial Intelligence.Domingos (2012), A few useful things to know about machine learning.Mitchell (1997), Machine Learning.Goodfellow, Bengio and Courville (2016), Deep Learning.LeCun, Bengio and Hinton (2015), Deep learning.Sutton and Barto (2018), Reinforcement Learning, an Introduction.Ribeiro, Singh and Guestrin (2016), "Why should I trust you?" Explaining the predictions of any classifier.Geman, Bienenstock and Doursat (1992), Neural networks and the bias/variance dilemma.Hastie, Tibshirani and Friedman (2009), The Elements of Statistical Learning.Zhang and colleagues (2017), Understanding deep learning requires rethinking generalization.Belkin and colleagues (2019), Reconciling modern machine-learning practice and the classical bias-variance trade-off.

哪些是虚构的

桥城、那所学校、方老师、丽丽、小雨、陈外公、浩然、妈妈、听写和阅读测验的分数、浩然的两个程序,还有外公的小人书和书里的故事。不过,这样的小人书(连环画)是真的:每页一幅画,画底下配着字,上世纪七八十年代很多中国孩子都看过。外公的记性问题不是照着哪个真人写的,故事里也没有任何医学上的说法。

谁做了这本漫画

这本漫画由 Yingying Fu 创作。故事和人物由她决定,每一页由她导演,每一句话、每一幅画由她修改。文字是和 Anthropic 的人工智能 Claude 一起起草的。画面由人工智能生成,按她的要求一格一格地画,再逐张检查、修正。

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