Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining
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Volume 80 Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining. The multifunctionality of conjunctions Edited by Ritva Laury
Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining The multifunctionality of conjunctions
Edited by
Ritva Laury University of Helsinki
John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam / Philadelphia
8
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The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Studies of clause combining : the multifunctionality of conjunctions / edited by Ritva Laury. p. cm. (Typological Studies in Language, issn 0167-7373 ; v. 80) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Grammar, Comparative and general--Clauses. 2. Grammar, Comparative and general-Conjunctions. I. Laury, Ritva. P297.S78 2008 415'.7--dc22 isbn 978 90 272 2993 9 (Hb; alk. paper)
2008021013
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Table of contents
List of contributors Introduction Ritva Laury & Sandra A. Thompson From subordinate clause to noun-phrase: Yang constructions in colloquial Indonesian Robert Englebretson
vii ix
1
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish Ricardo Etxepare
35
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers? Grace E. Fielder
79
Projectability and clause combining in interaction Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
99
Conjunction and sequenced actions: The Estonian complementizer and evidential particle et Leelo Keevallik
125
Clause combining, interaction, evidentiality, participation structure, and the conjunction-particle continuum: The Finnish että Ritva Laury & Eeva-Leena Seppänen
153
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
179
Quotative tte in Japanese: Its multifaceted functions and degrees of “subordination” Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
205
Quoting and topic-marking: Some observations on the quotative tte construction in Japanese Ryoko Suzuki
231
Index of names
247
Index of subjects
251
List of contributors Ritva Laury Department of Finnish Language and Literature PL 3, Fabianinkatu 33 (4th floor) 00014 University of Helsinki Finland
[email protected] Leelo Keevallik Department of Modern Languages Box 636 Uppsala University 751 26 Uppsala Sweden
[email protected] Robert Englebretson Dept. of Linguistics, MS23 Rice University 6100 Main St. Houston, TX 77005-1892 USA
[email protected] Jean Mulder School of Languages and Linguistics University of Melbourne, Victoria 3010 Australia
[email protected] Ricardo Etxepare Antzaran Plaza 16–2, 4 20301 (Gipuzkoa) Spain
[email protected] Grace E. Fielder Department of Russian and Slavic Studies PO Box 210105 Tucson, AZ 85721-0105 USA
[email protected] Paul J. Hopper Carnegie Mellon University Department of English Pittsburgh, PA 15213 USA
[email protected] Shigeko Okamoto Language Program 1156 High Street Cowell Academic Services University of California Santa Cruz, CA 95064 USA
[email protected] Tsyoshi Ono Department of East Asian Studies University of Alberta Edmonton, AB T6G 2E6 Canada
[email protected] Eeva-Leena Seppänen Department of Finnish language and literature PL 3, Fabianinkatu 33 (4th floor) 00014 University of Helsinki Finland
[email protected] List of contributors Ryoko Suzuki Faculty of Economics Keio University 4-1-1- Hiyoshi Kohokuku Yokohama 223-8521 Japan
[email protected] Sandra A. Thompson Department of Linguistics University of California, Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 93106-3100 USA
[email protected] Introduction Ritva Laury and Sandra A. Thompson
University of Helsinki, Finland/University of California, Santa Barbara
1. Overview This volume is a collection of articles based on papers presented at the panel on clause combining at the 6th International Pragmatics Conference at Lake Garda in July, 2005. The papers by Suzuki and Hopper & Thompson were not part of the panel. Suzuki was a discussant in the panel, and Thompson was an original participant with her paper coauthored with Jean Mulder. Although the authors of that paper were not able to present it at Garda, fortunately it is included in the volume. The papers represent eight languages from four different language families: Bulgarian, English, German, and Spanish; Estonian and Finnish; Indonesian; and Japanese. Several major themes important to the functional-typological school of linguistics are represented in the papers. Many of the papers address the issue of linguistic categoriality. The papers by Englebretson, Fielder, Keevallik, Laury & Seppänen, and Okamoto & Ono demonstrate the polyfunctionality and fuzzy edges of linguistic categories, and their findings support the point that linguistic items achieve categoriality through use in discourse, originally made by Hopper and Thompson (1984). Englebretson’s paper makes an additional important typological point based on his examination of yang constructions in Indonesian. Following Dryer (1997), who argues for a conception of grammar as languageand construction-specific, Englebretson points out the fallacy of assigning crosslinguistically valid labels to constructions found in very different languages; if we take seriously the claim that categoriality is a result of use patterns in discourse, then we need to consider that similarity in the behaviour of linguistic items in different languages is a result of certain degrees of isomorphism between structure and function. Quite a different look at polyfunctionality is offered in the paper by Etxepare, who examines the use of the Peninsular Spanish que as a root complementizer, that is, as a clause-initial item which is not associated any (overt) main clause. Etxepare’s paper adds theoretical breadth to the volume. It focuses on the same
Ritva Laury & Sandra A. Thompson
issue, the use of complementizers without any associated main clause, as several other papers in the volume, but from a very different theoretical framework. Closely linked to the issue of categoriality and polyfunctionality is the process through which linguistic items develop new uses. The papers by Mulder & Thompson and by Suzuki focus on the grammaticalization of items used as conjunctions into additional uses as particles. The papers by Keevallik and Laury & Seppänen also touch upon the historical development of the complementizers whose wider uses their papers concern. A further step in the development of novel uses of linguistic items and constructions is that with increased use, they often become lexically specific and formulaic, allowing little variation in their internal structure. In such a process, their internal structure gradually becomes opaque and they become set phrases strongly associated with particular functions. The paper which most clearly illustrates this process is the one by Hopper & Thompson, in which they examine the use of certain clausal constructions which participants in conversation use to project upcoming actions. 2. Categoriality As noted, one of the main themes of the volume has to do with categoriality of linguistic forms, in particular forms which function as conjunctions (such as relativizers, complementizers, quotatives and adversatives), but which also have other uses in syntactic environments that do not involve the joining of one clause to another. This is the main topic of papers by Englebretson, Fielder, Keevallik, Laury & Seppänen, and Okamoto & Ono. In addition, the papers by Mulder & Thompson and by Suzuki consider the grammaticization processes through which items that function as conjunctions develop other uses. Robert Englebretson’s paper discusses the use of the Indonesian yang, which has been classified as a relativizer in many grammars. In his highly innovative paper, Englebretson shows that the constructions introduced by yang range from traditional relative clauses to headless referring expressions serving as presupposed information in clefts, to referring expressions functioning as nominal arguments of predicates. Moreover, Englebretson shows that the yang-constructions in his conversational data form a continuum, so that there is no clear distinction between the various types of constructions in which yang is used in spoken Indonesian. The uses of yang thus illustrate the blurring of the distinction between relative clause and noun phrase. On the basis of the use of yang in spoken interactions, Englebretson suggests that it does not easily fit into any of the grammatical categories provided by existing theories. Following Dryer (1997), Englebretson argues that
Introduction
the positing of crosslinguistically valid labels may be misleading, and that instead, if grammatical forms can be shown to emerge from their use in discourse, the resultant forms may in fact be language-specific and unique to the language in which they appear, instead of fitting neatly into a well-defined crosslinguistically valid category. Grace Fielder’s paper discusses the multiple uses of the Bulgarian adversative connectives no, ama, and ami, which can all be translated into English as “but”, and which function as conjunctions, particles and/or discourse markers. Fielder’s paper is based on a qualitative and quantitative analysis of spoken and written corpora; like Englebretson, she demonstrates that the connectives she examines are not neatly divisible into conjunctions and discourse markers, but that instead, the different uses form a continuum. Through a careful analysis of the polyfunctional uses of these items, Fielder shows that there are systematic correlations between a connective function and (a) the position of the item in initial versus medial position, as well as (b) its occurrence in a particular genre and register. Several of the papers in the volume deal with the polyfunctionality of quotatives or linguistic elements which are used as complementizers. Leelo Keevallik’s paper belongs in this group. Like the linguistic items studied by Englebretson and Fielder, the uses of the item Keevallik studies, the Estonian et, also form a continuum and are not neatly separable into complementizer and particle uses. Keevallik shows that the use of et as a clause-initial element in both oral and Internet communication serves to attribute the upcoming content to a prior speaker or writer, and thus introduces a new voice into the current discourse. Keevallik argues that when the principal of the upcoming contribution is clear from the context, no quotative “main” clause is used. She also shows that the use of et is connected with and implements certain types of embedded conversational actions, and argues that the use of et in conversational sequences is not related to any monological pattern in a straightforward way. Instead, sequences containing et are shown to be the mutual achievement of the participants in the conversation, and a side-product of the implemented actions as well as an integrated part of them. Keevallik shows that the meaning of et in each of its uses is interactionally contingent and jointly constructed in real time as the conversation proceeds. Keevallik also presents a highly interesting hypothesis regarding the prosodic reflections of the grammaticizing pathways taken by et, showing how it can come to be latched either to the preceding speech act verb or to the upcoming complement clause. The paper by Laury & Seppänen concerns a cognate of the form examined by Keevallik, the Finnish et(tä). Like its Estonian counterpart, et(tä) also functions both as a complementizer and a particle in ordinary conversation. Through an analysis of the uses of et(tä) in a multi-party conversation, Laury & Seppänen also show that a division into particle and complementizer uses is not consistent
Ritva Laury & Sandra A. Thompson
with the data. They also suggest that the description of että-clauses as complements is questionable, and that, interactionally, in both its complementizer and particle uses, et(tä) functions to regulate the participation framework (Goffman 1981) and to effect changes in footing. That is, like the Estonian et, the Finnish et(tä) also functions to introduce a new voice to the interaction. Like Keevallik, Laury & Seppänen also discuss the historical development of et(tä). Although it is commonly assumed that particle uses developed from the clause-linking use of complementizers, the authors argue that it is quite possible that the particle use of et(tä) developed alongside of, or even before, the complementizer use. The paper by Etxepare also concerns a complementizer, the Peninsular Spanish que. Using constructed examples, and approaching the topic from the perspective of formal syntax, Extepare focuses on the use of que in which it heads a main clause and argues that such structures in Spanish involve an extra speech eventuality, which is syntactically represented as a complex verbal predicate, composed of a light verb and an aspectual projection which takes as a complement an utterance. Etxepare compares this use of que with elements which have been called Quotative Verbs in other languages and which are used to frame direct and semi-direct speech. In this collection, Etxepare’s paper shows that even when approached from a different theoretical perspective, the uses of complementizers in positions where they do not combine two clauses, such elements are connected with the quoting of earlier utterances; that is, changes in footing, to use a term invoked by other authors in this volume. Okamoto & Ono’s contribution to the volume focuses on the use of the Japanese quotative particle tte in naturally occurring conversations. The authors argue that the five different usages of tte, which they identify based on syntactic, semantic and pragmatic properties, constitute subcategories of the particle ranging from an object complement marker (OCM) to a sentence-final particle (SFP), that they form a continuum, and that the SFP usage derives from the OCM usage. The study sees grammatical categories as inseparable from usage, in the sense that usage shapes grammar, and like many others in the volume, the authors also demonstrate the non-discrete nature of grammatical categories such as complementizer vs. particle and main clause vs. subordinate clause. 3. Grammaticalization The papers by Suzuki and Mulder & Thompson both consider particles which also function to combine clauses. Suzuki’s paper concerns the historical development of the Japanese quotative tte, also discussed by Okamoto and Ono. The paper is based on diachronic data taken from the conversational portions of novels from the
Introduction
1830s to the 1980s, in addition to transcripts of informal conversations in modern Japanese. Suzuki focuses on the development of tte from a marker of quotation to an element which serves to introduce or track a referent, arguing that, once again, the uses are arranged on a continuum, with the referent-introducing and tracking uses having developed from the quotative function. Crucial to this development, according to Suzuki, is the nature of dialogic interaction, where speakers take parts of another’s utterance and repeat them, thus building their contributions on preceding talk. Mulder & Thompson’s paper deals with the grammaticization process currently affecting the use of the English but, in which it is developing from a prosodicunit-initial conjunction to a prosodic-unit-final discourse particle. The authors examine both Australian and American English conversational data, finding that as but moves along the continuum from conjunction to particle, its conversational function changes in a way that is consistent with what has been described in the grammaticization literature. They note that in the earlier stages of development, based on both prosodic and sequential evidence, a turn-final but indicates that an implication has been left ‘‘hanging’’, so that the material contrasting with the clause preceding but is only implied rather than overtly expressed. However, in the Australian data, the use of a turn-final but has progressed further; it is uttered with turn-final prosody, and instead of a construction with an implication “hanging”, a construction emerges in which the semantically contrastive material is supplied in the prosodic unit ending with the final but. Thus, in Australian English, final but has developed into a final particle which marks contrastive content. The authors show that in a diaspora situation where speakers of the same language are widely separated, speech communities may be positioned at different points in this grammaticization process, suggesting that the development of but is only one example of many such processes which can be seen in English and other languages. They claim that the evidence argues strongly for an emergentist view of language structure, whereby large-scale patterns are created from repeated small-scale interactions, as suggested by other authors in the volume, for example Englebretson, Keevallik, and Suzuki.
4. The nature of biclausal constructions The final paper in the volume, by Hopper and Thompson, widens the perspective by considering the nature of clause combining in general. The authors consider several ‘multi-part’ construction types in English and German, questioning the description of such constructions as ‘biclausal’, since the second part may not resemble a syntactic clause at all, but may rather be an indeterminate stretch of
Ritva Laury & Sandra A. Thompson
discourse without a consistent syntactic structure. Instead, the first clause functions to project this upcoming segment. Indeed, in some such constructions, such as Extraposition and Pseudocleft, the first part is also is not necessarily best viewed as a “clause”, but rather a fixed sequence allowing few lexical choices. The authors suggest that such apparently “biclausal” constructions can be more realistically understood in terms of real-time social activities as single, partially formulaic formats which are among the resources speakers use to manage interaction. Based on a typologically broad sample of languages and a variety of theoretical approaches, these papers represent a significant rethinking of the nature and richness of the morphology, prosody, and syntax of clause combining.
References Dryer, M.S. 1997. Are grammatical relations universal? In Essays on Language Function and Language Type: Dedicated to T. Givón, J. Bybee, J. Haiman & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 115–143. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Goffman, E. 1981. Forms of Talk. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Hopper, P.J. & Thompson, S.A. 1984. The discourse basis for lexical categories in universal grammar. Language 60: 703–752.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase Yang constructions in colloquial Indonesian Robert Englebretson Rice University
This paper addresses the blurring of a distinction between subordinate clause and nominal phrase in colloquial Indonesian conversation. Specifically, it presents a discourse-based analysis of the forms and functions of constructions introduced by the morpheme yang. Previous literature has generally described these constructions as relative clauses; however, this paper shows that they form a continuum around three general foci. They range from traditional relative clauses serving as modifiers of head nouns, to headless referring expressions serving as presupposed information in clefts, to referring expressions functioning as direct nominal arguments of predicates. The findings call into question the label “relative clause” for these Indonesian constructions, and support a view of grammatical categories as emerging from their use in discourse.
1. Introduction Recent work on the grammar of clause combining in natural discourse, including many of the contributions to the present volume, has examined the putative distinction between main and subordinate clauses.1 In some cases the distinction has been shown to be a continuum, and in other cases the distinction has been shown not to exist at all. Thompson and Mulac (1991a, 1991b) demonstrate the continuous, noncategorical nature in English of constructions ranging from complement
. I would like to thank Ritva Laury, Sandy Thompson, Mike Ewing, Scott Paauw, and Susanna Cumming for fruitful discussion and comments at various stages of this project. I also appreciate the input from my fellow panel members at the Ninth International Pragmatics Conference in Riva del Garda, Italy (July 2005). As with all of my work on colloquial Indonesian, I am forever grateful to the numerous individuals who consented to participating in recordings for the Indonesian conversational corpus in Yogyakarta, and to the three Research Assistants who helped in data transcription and glossing. I alone of course bear full responsibility for any errors or misunderstandings presented in this work.
Robert Englebretson
main clauses to epistemic adverbial phrases. Laury and Seppänen (this volume) show similar findings for constructions involving the Finnish complementizer että. Specific cases where the distinction between main and subordinate clause has been argued not to exist at all include object complements in conversational English (Thompson 2002), and complementation in colloquial Indonesian (Englebretson 2003). These works all highlight the blurring of a distinction between main and subordinate clause. The present paper shows the converse situation, namely the blurring of the distinction between subordinate clause and phrasal constituent. This paper addresses a particular grammatical construction in colloquial Indonesian, hereafter referred to as the yang construction, which ranges along a cline from subordinate clause to phrasal constituent. On one end of the continuum are relative clauses serving as modifiers of head nouns, and on the other end of the continuum are referring expressions serving as direct arguments of predicates. The following two examples illustrate yang constructions at both ends of this continuum.2
(1) Restrictive Relative Clause (“Pencuri” IU 2832–2833) 2832
Bagi orang yang nggak bawa duit, for people yang neg bring money 2833 tidak terpengaruh. neg nv-influence ‘As for people who aren’t carrying money, they aren’t influenced.’
(2) Referring Expression as Argument of a Predicate (“Pencuri” IU 3819)
Enak yang itu. delicious yang that ‘That one is delicious.’
In (1) the yang construction yang nggak bawa duit is a subordinate clause which modifies the head noun orang “people”, forming a restrictive relative clause “people who don’t bring money”. It has a head and is itself a clause. In contrast, the yang construction in (2) yang itu “that one” is not a relative clause; it does not have a head noun, and it in fact is not even a clause at all. It is a referring
. For ease of identification, in these and all subsequent examples, yang constructions are italicized, and relative clause heads (when present) are underlined. Since the purpose of this paper is to discuss the yang morpheme itself, I will gloss it eponymously as yang, rather than attempting a standard grammatical gloss. See Appendix A for a summary of glossing abbreviations.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
expression consisting of the yang morpheme followed by the demonstrative/ determiner itu “that”. It functions like an NP, refers anaphorically to a referent previously mentioned in the conversation, and serves as the single argument of the intransitive verb enak “pleasant/delicious”. These two examples show that colloquial Indonesian yang constructions do not form a homogeneous group in terms of grammatical form or discourse function. Throughout this paper, I will argue that this construction in colloquial Indonesian must be understood to be continuous, nondiscrete, and polyfunctional, and that conventional labels such as “relative clause” are inadequate to characterize its full range of uses. The present paper follows researchers such as Dryer (1997) and Croft (2001) who argue that grammatical structures need to be analyzed on a case-by-case, language-specific and construction-specific basis. It also draws from the insights of Hopper and Thompson (1984) regarding acategoriality in grammar. Hopper and Thompson suggest that the lexical categories “noun” and “verb” arise from specific uses in local discourse contexts; the lexical category of a particular form is not given a priori, but “is imposed on the form by discourse” (Hopper & Thompson 1984: 747). Similarly, in this paper I suggest that Hopper and Thompson’s insights likewise apply to larger levels of phrasal and clausal forms as well; in the colloquial Indonesian data, categories like “relative clause” or “nominal phrase” are not a priori structures, but rather these categories emerge from specific discourse uses. Whether the colloquial Indonesian yang construction is realized as a “relative clause” or a “nominal phrase” depends on how it is being used in a particular discourse context. This paper is organized as follows. I will begin with a brief summary and overview of the corpus data and methodology. I will then illustrate the formal continuum of Indonesian yang constructions, showing that there are three primary foci of this construction: full-fledged restrictive relative clauses modifying a head noun, headless clauses in equational sentences, and yang constructions occurring as referring expressions. I will outline the range of pragmatic functions of these constructions: restriction and attribution, grounding, framing, identification, and ad hoc reference formulation. I will conclude by showing how these construction types form a continuum; while there are three central foci of yang constructions, there is also overlap among them in terms of both form and function, and there are instances of constructions on the borders between these three foci. Thus, Indonesian yang constructions illustrate a blurring of the distinction between relative clause and nominal phrase. I propose that the continuous and polyfunctional nature of yang constructions makes it necessary to eschew more general typological labels such as “relative clause” for the colloquial Indonesian data, since ultimately it is only through their particular uses in discourse that the specific functions of this construction come into being.
Robert Englebretson
2. Data and methodology While a thorough discussion of the language variety designated here as colloquial Indonesian lies outside the scope of this paper, some background information may be helpful, especially for readers unfamiliar with the social and linguistic situation of present-day Indonesia. The Republic of Indonesia is a linguistically diverse country. The official language is Indonesian, the standard literary variety of which is promoted by the government and used in official capacities such as education, business, and the media. In addition to standard Indonesian, several hundred local languages are widely spoken (including Javanese, Balinese, Sundanese, etc.), as well as numerous regional varieties of Malay. Indonesians tend to be highly diglossic with a wide stylistic repertoire, as speakers’ language choices are sensitive to a wide range of social situations. By colloquial Indonesian, I mean the language variety that tends to be spoken informally among predominantly young, urban Indonesians who generally do not otherwise share a local language in common. There are significant differences between this variety and standard written Indonesian.3 This has at least two consequences for the current paper. First, findings of prior research on this topic in standard Indonesian do not necessarily apply to the language variety of the corpus used in the current study. And, secondly, findings of the current study are likewise not necessarily generalizable to other varieties of Indonesian. Discussion of yang constructions in descriptive grammars (Alwi et al. 1993; Sneddon 1996, inter alia), as well as published research specifically about yang constructions (Ewing 1991; Steinhauer 1992) have focused almost exclusively on the standard written variety of Indonesian. One exception to this is Ewing and Cumming (1998) who compare yang constructions in a corpus of internet NewsNet postings with a corpus of relatively informal conversation. One of the key findings of Ewing and Cumming’s research is that the form and function of yang constructions is highly sensitive to and constrained by genre and register factors. For this reason, readers should be aware that the findings of the current paper may not be relevant to other genres, registers, or varieties of Indonesian. Whether, and to what extent, the yang constructions in colloquial Indonesian can be compared with those found in other varieties such as standard written Indonesian promises to be a fruitful area for future research. The present study focuses on informal conversation – the most-ordinary and most-prevalent type of spoken language, and the locus in which the interplay
. For a thorough discussion of colloquial Indonesian, see Ewing 2005a. For specific details about the colloquial features found in my corpus, see chapter 1 of Englebretson 2003.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
between grammar and social interaction is most readily observable (cf. papers in Ochs et al. 1996, inter alia). The database for this study consists of four transcribed audio recordings of naturally-occurring, informal, colloquial Indonesian conversation. These segments comprise face-to-face interaction among college-age students who are friends or roommates and know each other well. Conversations are unprompted and spontaneous. These segments are a subset of the corpus fully described in Englebretson (2003), based on nearly 25 hours of data recorded during 1996 fieldwork in the city of Yogyakarta in Central Java. Because of the current study’s explicit focus on informal interaction and everyday language as the locus for observing grammar in use, and in order to maintain genre consistency across speech events, the database for the present study includes only those four speech events out of the larger corpus characterized as informal, face-to-face, casual conversation among friends. Speech events in the corpus were transcribed using a slightly-modified version of the Du Bois et al. (1993) Discourse Transcription system. (See Appendix B for a brief overview of transcription conventions.) Table 1 lists the title, number of words, number of Intonation Units (IU’s), and length of time for each segment in the database for the current study. Table 1. Overview of Indonesian “informal” sub-corpus Title
IU’s
Words
Time
Pencuri Blewah Dingdong Wisuda
3,902 1,331 1,685 1,826 8,744
10,974 3,823 4,053 5,224 24,074
55:10 24:23 30:14 41:40 2:31:07
Each token of the yang morpheme in the corpus was tagged, and its associated construction was then coded in a relational database for features of both form and function. The resulting database yielded 410 yang constructions. Of these, 32 were truncated mid-IU and therefore could not be analyzed further and were subsequently excluded from the study. This left a total of 378 yang constructions to serve as the database for this paper. The following sections outline the form and function of the 378 yang constructions occurring in the corpus. 3. Formal and functional characteristics of yang constructions Grammars of standard Indonesian have typically characterized yang constructions as relative clauses (Alwi et al. 1993; Sneddon 1996, inter alia), and descriptions of colloquial Indonesian likewise use this term (Ewing 2005a). Specific studies of
Robert Englebretson
these constructions have also maintained this terminology. For example, Ewing (1991) provides a study of the discourse functions of relative clauses in formal written Indonesian, and Ewing and Cumming (1998) discuss the distribution and grammatical characteristics of relative clauses in both spoken Indonesian and internet newsgroup postings. Yet the data for the present study provide compelling evidence that the term “relative clause” does not sufficiently capture the form and function of yang constructions in colloquial Indonesian. The primary evidence for this claim is that the vast majority of yang constructions in the data do not modify a head noun, and many are not even clauses at all. Only 64 of the 378 yang constructions – 16.9% of the instances in the data – are canonical relative clauses modifying a head noun in an NP. In other words, 83.1% of the yang constructions in the data do not have a head and do not occur as a modifier within an NP. These 83.1% of yang constructions are headless, and can be classified into two general subtypes: the majority of yang constructions in the data (231 out of 378, or 61.1%) are headless referring expressions serving as arguments of predicates. The remainder (83 out of 378, or 22%) are also headless and occur as clefts in equational sentences. Table 2 shows the distribution of each type of yang construction in the data, in ascending order of frequency of occurrence. Note that these categories do not necessarily have clearcut boundaries; there is considerable functional overlap, especially between the two subtypes of headless yang constructions. I shall return shortly to a discussion of the continuous nature of these constructions – but for now I will maintain this terminology for expository and descriptive purposes. Table 2. Formal distribution of yang constructions
Form
Headed Noun Modifier Headless Cleft Referring TOTAL
Number
Percent
64
16.9
83 231 378
22 61.1 100
In descriptive typological literature, the term “headless relative clause” would generally be used to characterize the yang constructions typified here as “cleft” and “referring” (see Payne 1997: 281 for a constructed example from standard Indonesian). Given current approaches to discourse-based understandings of clausecombining and grammar however, I believe it is time to problematize the term “headless relative clause”, and to conduct a thorough review and discussion of this category from a cross-linguistic, discourse-based perspective. Unfortunately, such
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
a project lies outside the scope of this paper; but as applied to the Indonesian data, I find “headless relative clause” to be problematic on two levels. First, it is a marked term implying that the unmarked category of relative clauses should be those with heads, and that the “headless relative clauses” are lacking something. Yet, in terms of overall frequency, the Indonesian data demonstrate that the marked type of yang constructions are those with heads; the overwhelming number of yang constructions are headless, suggesting that these may in fact be the most basic and unmarked type. Secondly, the term “headless relative clause” would imply that these yang constructions are still relative clauses in some sense – an assumption which the differences in discourse function among these construction types would call into question. The “cleft” and “referring” types do not do the canonical work of restriction and attribution which the headed constructions do. Other than the fact that these three construction types all are introduced by the word yang, their discourse functions are quite disparate. A second difficulty with the use of the term “relative clause” as a label for yang constructions is that the vast majority of yang tokens introduce material which is generally not clause-like at all. Only 57 out of the 378 yang constructions in the data (15.5%) consist of yang introducing a canonical clause as in example (1) above. The remaining 84.5% consist of yang introducing other types of material: verbs with no arguments, adjectives, nouns and noun phrases, prepositional phrases, adverbs, or even bare demonstratives/determiners as in example (2) above. This is true across all of the yang constructions shown in Table 2; in other words, noun modifiers, clefts, and referring expressions all show instances of yang introducing a variety of material in addition to prototypical clauses. The primary reason for this is due to the loose and flexible nature of Indonesian predicates. While prototypical Indonesian clause predicates are verbs, virtually all other grammatical categories can also function as a clause predicate in Indonesian, and so the composition of yang constructions also reflects this fact. In sum, based on two orthogonal dimensions – the general absence of a head noun, and the non-clause-like nature of the material usually introduced by yang – the label “relative clause” simply does not adequately characterize the formal distribution of Indonesian yang constructions. I am not the first researcher to note the diverse and atypical nature of Indonesian yang constructions. Ewing and Cumming (1998) demonstrate that most noun-modifying relative clauses in spoken Indonesian are intransitive, while transitive yang constructions are syntactically “loose” and occur primarily in clefts rather than as noun modifiers. Cumming (2000) has expanded on these observations, and has presented a typological discussion of the status of Indonesian yang phrases, including an overview of the relation of spoken Indonesian to the accessibility hierarchy proposed by Keenan and Comrie (1977, 1979).
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Another researcher who calls into question the label “relative clause” for yang constructions is Simin (1988). Based on data from spoken Malay narratives, Simin argues for a more expanded analysis of yang constructions and claims that labeling them as “relative clauses” reflects a Eurocentric view of grammar which does not accurately represent the actual functions of these constructions in discourse. Since Simin’s research focuses on a different variety of Malay and genre of language than the present study, we obviously cannot draw conclusions about colloquial Indonesian based on his specific findings for Malay narrative. However, Simin’s more general point is indeed applicable; namely, labeling yang constructions as relative clauses causes analysts to miss key aspects of their form and function. Comrie (1998) makes a similar general point regarding Eurocentric biases in the analysis of relative clauses. He notes the prevalence of relative pronouns in European languages (areally defined), and notes how this fact has led linguists to make unwarranted claims about extraction and accessibility – factors which are simply not applicable to many languages outside of the European area: This remarkable feature of European languages has led linguists to adopt a number of assumptions in their investigation of relative clauses in other languages, assumptions that have sometimes proved helpful, but which in other cases have arguably led linguists astray. (Comrie 1998: 61).
In my view, the general tendency of analysts to label Indonesian yang constructions as “relative clauses” is one such illustration of linguists being led astray, since the most frequent and prototypical instances of yang constructions in conversational colloquial Indonesian have neither the form nor function of relative clauses. I will therefore avoid using the label “relative clause” for Indonesian yang constructions, except when justified based on both formal and functional criteria as in example (1) above, and in the discussion in section 3.1 below. Indonesian yang constructions do indeed function as relative clauses in some instances, in the restriction or attribution of a head noun, but this is only one small part of their overall distribution and function. In the following subsections, I will outline the three major types of yang constructions in the colloquial Indonesian data in order of ascending frequency as found in the corpus: noun modifiers occurring within a headed NP, clefts occurring in equational sentences, and referring expressions occurring as arguments of a predicate. 3.1 NP-internal modifiers As shown in Table 2, 64 of the 378 yang constructions in the corpus occur as modifiers within an NP. These constructions can be argued on both formal and functional grounds to be relative clauses. Formally, they occur within an NP and have a
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
head. Functionally, they serve either restrictively or attributively, specifying some criteria of the head noun. A relative clause is typically defined as a subordinate clause occurring within an NP, which modifies the head noun and restricts the set of referents of that noun. (Keenan 1985; Comrie 1989; Payne 1997, inter alia). As shown in example (1) Indonesian does indeed use yang constructions in this manner. In this example, the head orang “people” is modified by the clause yang nggak bawa duit, indicating a subclass of people – namely those who don’t bring money with them. Following are two similar examples. (3) Relative Clause (“Blewah” IU 17–18) 17 … Masih ada, still ex 18 hal yang perlu kita lakukan lagi. thing yang need 1pl do-app again ‘There are still things we need to do yet.’
In this example, the speaker is about to introduce a list of things which she and her interlocutors need to do before eating lunch. The head noun hal “thing” is modified by a relative clause yang perlu kita lakukan lagi “that we need to do yet”. The head noun “thing” is restricted by the embedded modifying clause, specifying a subset of “things”.
(4) Relative Clause (“Wisuda” IU 10)
Kau tahu anak kemarin yang pake baju 2sg know kid yesterday yang wear shirt biru-biru tu Gus. blue:redup that Gus ‘You know that kid who was wearing the blue clothes yesterday, Gus?’
In this example, the speaker (Jef) is asking his interlocutor (Gus) whether he had noticed a particular kid wearing blue clothing. (Jef had picked up Gus at the train station the previous day, which is the current topic of conversation.) Here, the head noun anak “child/kid” is modified by the relative clause yang pake baju biru-biru “who wore blue clothing”. The demonstrative/determiner tu (short for itu) occurs at the end of the entire NP; in Indonesian, determiners occur post-nominally, where they are grammatically restricted to the final position of the NP. Thus the yang construction here occurs within an NP, and is restricting the set of possible referents of the head noun to a particular “kid” – the one at the train station yesterday who was wearing blue clothing. So far, all of the examples of noun-modifying yang constructions have been analyzable as prototypical relative clauses; (1), (3), and (4) each consist of a head
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noun modified by a clause introduced by yang. However, as I have noted, these full-fledged relative clauses are the minority of noun-modifying yang constructions. As Ewing and Cumming (1998) and Cumming (2000) observe, the majority of “relative clauses” in spoken Indonesian actually contain only an intransitive predicate (with no arguments at all), which functions attributively to characterize the head noun. My data bear this out as well, as illustrated in the following example. (5) ‘Attributive’ Yang + Adjective (“Pencuri” IU 2844–2845) 2844 Ini aja, this just 2845 kalung yang hitam itu yang jelek itu. necklace yang black that yang ugly that ‘Here it is, that ugly black necklace.’
In this example, the head noun kalung “necklace” is modified by two yang constructions. But instead of restricting the possible set of “necklaces” as was the case for the relative clauses in previous examples, each of the two yang constructions functions here attributively to characterize some aspect of the head noun. The adjectives hitam “black” and jelek “ugly” characterize the already-identified referent expressed by the head noun and highlight these particular attributes. Note that Indonesian adjectives more commonly follow head nouns without the use of yang. Sneddon (1996: 146) characterizes the difference between bare adjectives and adjectives preceded by yang as follows: “A noun plus adjective sequence forms a close unit, expressing a single idea without any emphasis on the adjective. Use of yang separates the adjective from the noun and gives emphasis to it.” Steinhauer (1992) makes a similar point about the conceptual unity of noun plus adjective sequences without yang, as opposed to the more discrete and less conceptually integrated nature of noun plus adjective sequences with yang. Thus one could argue that the frequent, intransitive yang constructions as in (5) are best characterized as attributive, rather than restrictive, relative clauses.4 As mentioned previously, one of the reasons why the label “relative clause” does not sufficiently characterize the majority of yang constructions in the data is because most of these constructions do not consist of prototypical clauses at all. The following four examples illustrate the range of material which yang may introduce . I am maintaining the terms “restriction” and “attribution” here as they have been used in previous literature on Indonesian yang constructions. I recognize their problematic nature, but feel it unwise to further complicate the discussion by trying to introduce new terms at this point.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
when modifying a head noun. Yang introduces a prepositional phrase in (6), an adverb in (7), a noun in (8), and a demonstrative/determiner in (9).
(6) Yang + Prepositional Phrase (“Pencuri” IU 496)
Kamu kan pernah lihat pencopet yang di = Koperasi Pemuda itu. 2sg prt ever see pickpocket yang at co-op youth that ‘Have you ever seen that pickpocket on the Koperasi Pemuda?’ (Koperasi Pemuda is the name of a bus line in Yogyakarta.)
In this example, the head-noun pencopet “pickpocket” is modified by yang plus a prepositional phrase, restricting the referent of the head noun to a certain “pickpocket” – the one who can regularly be seen on the Koperasi Pemuda bus. The demonstrative/determiner itu “that” then comes in its grammatically-expected position at the end of the NP (after the relative clause).
(7) Yang + Adverb (“Pencuri” IU 734)
Lucu banget kan kawanku yang tadi itu kan, funny very prt friend-1sg yang just:now that prt ‘It was really funny, my friend just now …’ (i.e., that we were just now talking about)
Here, kawan “friend” is a head-noun modified by yang plus the adverb tadi “just now”, restricting the set of “friends” to the one which the speaker had previously mentioned. Again the demonstrative determiner itu “that” ends the NP.
(8) Yang + Noun (“Pencuri” IU 1629)
Mau ditelponin temennya yang gali itu, tapi want pt-phone-app friend-POS yang criminal that but ‘She wanted to call that criminal friend of hers for me, but … (she wasn’t home)’
In this example, the noun-modifier consists of yang plus another noun (gali “criminal”) which modifies the head-noun “friend”. The entire NP is again closed with the demonstrative/determiner itu “that”. This yang construction is again restrictive, identifying the particular “friend”.
(9) Yang + Demonstrative/Determiner (“Dingdong” IU 1331)
ketemu lagi cewek yang itu. nv-meet again girl yang that ‘I ran into that particular girl again.’
This example consists of the head-noun cewek “girl” followed by yang and the demonstrative/determiner itu “that”. The speaker is referring to a specific “girl” he had been talking about earlier in the conversation, and thus this yang construction is serving to restrict the possible referents of the head noun in terms of its
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specificity, roughly equivalent to the use of the construction “that particular” in English.5 This is an interesting example, as it highlights a contrast which exists in Indonesian between the use of a yang construction (noun + yang + demonstrative/ determiner), and the more-frequent unmarked construction consisting simply of noun + demonstrative/determiner. Here, the contrast would be between cewek yang itu “that particular girl” as observed in this example, and the more frequent, unmarked construction cewek itu “that girl”, which is also attested in my corpus. Steinhauer (1992) discusses such alternating constructions in depth, concluding that the existence of alternations with and without yang provide compelling evidence that the word yang is not simply a meaningless ligature (as had previously been claimed) but does indeed have semantic function. According to Steinhauer, yang serves to break the conceptual unity between the head noun and the following clause, adjective, or demonstrative, imposing a topic-comment like construal. While native speakers of Indonesian are willing to accept my gloss of yang itu as “that particular”, since there are only three examples in the corpus with this structure (noun + yang + itu), there simply isn’t enough data in the corpus to undertake a full contrastive study. What is clear, though, is that this yang construction, as in all of the examples in this section, is modifying a head noun, and is functioning restrictively or attributively. The present section has illustrated examples of yang constructions which are headed. They modify a noun within an NP, and are either restrictive or attributive. Material introduced by yang ranges from full-fledged two-argument clauses (as in (1), (3), and (4)) to other grammatical categories such as adjectives (5), prepositional phrases (6), adverbs (7), nouns (8), and bare demonstratives/determiners (9). Since Indonesian intransitive predicates do include all of the grammatical categories in (5)–(9), one can reasonably refer to these constructions as “relative clauses” – so long as we understand “clause” in Indonesian to encompass predicates of a wide range of grammatical structures in addition to prototypical instances of a verb and associated arguments. This section has illustrated the types of yang constructions which occur within an NP and modify a head noun. As shown in Table 2, these account for only a minority of the data, with 64 out of
. In standard Indonesian, according to Sneddon (1996), yang + determiner can only be used for referents which are co-present in the speech situation. “When referring to something present, but not when referring to something previously mentioned but not now present, ini and itu can optionally be preceded by yang for emphasis” (Sneddon 1996: 130). The three examples of noun + yang itu in my corpus illustrate that for colloquial Indonesian at least, no such requirement for physical co-presence holds true. In this example, the referent of cewek yang itu “that particular girl” is in fact not physically present, and is only identifiable based on previous mention in the discourse.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
a total of 378 yang constructions (16.9%) falling into this category. So, while yang constructions do indeed occur as relative clauses, it is crucial to bear in mind that these comprise only a minority of the data, and the term “relative clause” is not necessarily warranted as a label for yang constructions in general, as it is not applicable to the remaining 83.1% of the tokens of this construction in the corpus. We will return to this question later in section 4, after examining the other two types attested in the corpus. 3.2 Clefts As shown in Table 2, 83 of the yang constructions in the data (22%) occur in equational sentences as clefts. Unlike the noun-modifying yang constructions discussed in the previous section, these 83 tokens do not have a head noun and do not occur within an NP. Furthermore, while the function of noun-modifying yang constructions is to restrict or attribute/describe, the function of clefts is primarily to manage information flow – specifically to relate presupposed information to another NP, to ground the presupposed information to another referent. Ewing and Cumming define a cleft as follows: … a lexical NP or pronoun and a relative clause in an equational structure. … In a cleft construction, the relative clause usually contains presupposed information, while the lexical NP or pronoun indicates the entity about which that presupposition holds. (Ewing & Cumming 1998: 86)
In these equational sentences, the yang construction (what Ewing and Cumming here refer to as the “relative clause”) is treated as a nominal, and is juxtaposed with another pronoun or lexical NP. Ewing similarly defines a cleft as follows: “An important type of predicate nominal clause is the cleft construction, in which a headless relative clause serves as the subject in the matrix clause, while a specific nominal referent acts as the predicate” (Ewing 2005a: 235). Note that colloquial Indonesian forms equational sentences by the simple juxtaposition of two noun phrases and does not use a copula. The following example contains two clefts, one in IU 428 and another in IU 430. (10) (“Pencuri” IU 427–430) 427 I: Maksudnya, mean-def 428 dia yang baca gitu. 3sg yang read thus
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429 Ayatnya dikasih Ari, verse-def pt-give Ari 430 dia yang baca itu. 3sg yang read that ‘So you mean it was she who read. You (Ari) gave her the verse, and it was she who read it.’
This excerpt comes from a section of the speech event where speaker A (Ari) was relating an incident where she and a friend were at a church meeting. It was customary in that congregation for participants to give each other Bible verses. Speaker I (Indra) was unsure as to who exactly would then read those verses: the giver of the verse (in this case Ari) or the recipient (in this case Ari’s friend referred to by the pronoun dia “he/she”). It is presupposed that someone read the verse, but what is at issue here is the identity of the reader. Indra uses two cleft constructions to seek clarification. IU 428 consists of the 3sg pronoun dia, juxtaposed with yang and the verb baca “read” to form the equational sentence “She (was the one who) read”. IU 430 consists of the 3sg pronoun dia followed by the yang construction yang baca itu “(the one who) read it”, which forms another equational sentence. While I am following the terminology given by Ewing and Cumming (1998) and Ewing (2005a) who refer to these types of structures as clefts, I acknowledge that other analysts have used different terminology. In particular, Sneddon (1996) refers to these yang constructions as “nominalized relative clauses” in his grammar of standard Indonesian: “Nominalisation occurs when the head noun is ellipted … usually because it is clear from context, leaving yang at the beginning of the noun phrase. The yang phrase then functions like a noun.” (Sneddon 1996: 300). This view presupposes a process in which these types of yang constructions are derived from an underlying relative clause with a head, and the head is then “ellipted”. We will return to a discussion of the “relative clause” label in section 4, but for now I would submit that the terms “nominalized relative clause” or “headless relative clause” are not empirically verifiable. It is impossible to establish the presence of something that is absent – in this case one could never prove the existence of a head noun that has been “ellipted”; and as I suggested earlier, these yang constructions have a different function in discourse than do the relative clauses discussed earlier in section 3.1, and thus the label “relative clause” for these cleft constructions is questionable anyway. What is clear, however, is that the grammar of Indonesian treats these yang constructions as nominals, and they are juxtaposed with other pronouns and NPs to form equational sentences. Following is another example.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
(11) (“Blewah” IU 514) Yang enak itu sosisnya. yang delicious that sausage-def ‘What’s delicious is the sausage.’/‘The delicious thing is the sausage.’
As with (10), this example consists of an equational sentence formed by juxtaposing a yang construction and an NP. The information management aspects of this example remain the same, despite the difference in word-order. In (10) the NP precedes the yang construction, while in (11) the NP follows it. This excerpt comes from a context where the interlocutors were discussing a recipe for fried breadfruit pie. They all agreed that this recipe is delicious, but the current speaker is claiming that what makes the recipe delicious is that it contains sausage. Thus, the deliciousness of the recipe is presupposed (the interlocutors had just been talking about it), and this presupposed information is then grounded to the predicate NP sosisnya “the sausage”. Because of the information-management aspects of clefts, they are often found in question-word questions as in the following two examples. (12) (“Pencuri” IU 2127) Siapa yang ngambil uangku. who yang at-take money-1sg ‘Who stole my money!?’
In this excerpt, the speaker is reporting the speech of another – a woman who had disembarked from a bus, noticed that her wallet was missing, and jumped back on the bus to confront the thief. The presupposed information again is in the yang construction yang ngambil uangku “(the one who) took my money”, and the question-word siapa “who” is seeking a referent on which to ground the presupposed information. The English free translations of these questions do not readily capture the information-management function of the yang construction; roughly paraphrasing: “Who is it that stole my money?”. Example (13) is similar. (13) (“Pencuri” IU 3230) Siapa yang ulang tahun who yang birthday ‘Who has a birthday?’
Here the presupposed information expressed in the yang construction is ulang tahun “birthday” which had just been mentioned in the prior discourse. The speaker is using the question-word siapa “who” to ground a referent to this presupposed information. Again, roughly paraphrasing into English: “Who is it that has a birthday?” In addition to the grounding of a referent to presupposed information as in the previous four examples, yang constructions in equational sentences may also
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provide epistemic framing for an utterance. The following example is illustrative. In previous examples in this section, the equational sentence was formed by juxtaposing a yang construction with a pronoun or lexical NP. In the following example on the other hand, the equational sentence is formed by juxtaposing a yang construction with another entire clause. (14) (“Pencuri” IU 2019–2020) 2019 Yang penting kan, yang important prt 2020 duitnya selamat. money-def safe ‘What’s important is, the money is safe.’/‘The important thing is, the money is safe.’
In this example, the yang construction in IU 2019 yang penting “the important thing” forms an equational sentence with the clause in IU 2020 duitnya selamat “the money is safe”. Pragmatically, the yang construction in IU 2019 provides the speaker’s epistemic attitude toward the clause in IU 2020. Examples like this where a yang construction provides speaker evaluation of an upcoming clause illustrate epistemic framing; the yang construction frames the other clause in terms of being important, surprising, clear, and other such evaluations. Following is an interesting example containing three yang constructions. The first yang construction forms an equational sentence with an NP, while the second and third yang constructions form an equational sentence with each other. (15) (“Pencuri” IU 2549–2550) 2549 Yang di kita itu batu. yang at 1pl that stone 2550 Yang di dia itu yang emas. yang at 3sg that yang gold ‘The one we’ve got is stone. The one he’s got is the gold one.’
This excerpt presents the coda of a sequence where speaker L (Lucy) is describing how thieves at the open-air market are sometimes able to trick customers/victims into giving them their jewelry. Somehow the thief manages to switch the victim’s jewelry with a fake (made out of batu “stone”), and so the thief ends up with the victim’s gold, while the victim ends up with a piece of stone and only realizes this after it’s too late. IU 2549 and 2550 both contain equational sentences. The yang
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
construction in each consists of a locative prepositional phrase showing possession, juxtaposed with another NP. From the prior talk, it is clear that in this transaction, both the victim (kita “we”) and the thief (dia “he/she”) end up with something, and this is the presupposed information of each cleft. In each case, this presupposed information is then grounded to the rest of the equational sentence: to batu “stone” in IU 2549, and to yang emas “the gold one” in IU 2550. What is especially noteworthy about this example is that IU 2550 contains two yang constructions, juxtaposed with each other to form an equational sentence. As with the previous examples presented in this section, one of these (in this case the first one) presents the presupposed information of a cleft. The other, however, is another referring expression which picks a referent out of a set (in this case, “the gold one” rather than the one made of stone mentioned in the previous IU). It is not modifying a head as in section 3.1, and it is not presenting the presupposed information in a cleft as in the other examples in 3.2. This type of yang construction will be taken up in the following section. 3.3 Referring expressions The majority of yang constructions in the data, 231 out of 378 (61.1%) occur neither as modifiers of head nouns nor as presupposed information in equational sentences. Instead, these occur as referring expressions, either as direct arguments of a predicate or as unattached NPs.6 Pragmatically, the functions of referring yang constructions include: highlighting one referent out of a set, negotiating the identity of a referent, and providing an ad hoc label for a referent. Note that these are not necessarily distinct pragmatic functions – these functions are overlapping, as they all concern the identifiability of a referent in discourse. The examples presented in this section highlight all of these functions to a certain extent and should not be taken as exclusively illustrating one function or another. We have already seen two examples of this type of yang construction. First, in example (2), which is repeated below as example (16), the demonstrative/determiner itu “that” co-occurs with yang is a referring expression which serves as the argument of the predicate enak “delicious”. (16) (“Pencuri” 3819) Enak yang itu. delicious yang that ‘That one is delicious.’
. For “unattached NPs” see Ono and Thompson 1994 for a discussion of their interactional function in conversational English. See also Tao 1996 for Mandarin, Helasvuo 2001 for Finnish, and Ewing 2005b for Cirebon Javanese.
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In the context from which this excerpt has been taken, the interlocutors have been discussing various places to eat lunch around their universities. Yang itu here is referring to one of the food stalls on campus which was previously mentioned in the discourse, specifying that particular place as serving delicious food. Out of a set of university food stalls, the yang construction here is highlighting one of them in particular, identifying it to the interlocutors, and providing an ad hoc label for it since the exact name of the food stall is neither known nor relevant. The second referring yang construction already seen was the second yang construction in IU 2550 of example (15). Its function is similar to that in (16); there is a set of two objects, one “stone” and one “gold”, and yang emas “the gold one” is highlighting one of those members. The function of this construction to highlight a referent from a known set is further illustrated by the two yang constructions in the following example. (17) (“Dingdong” IU 952–953) 952 Yang dua pinter, yang two smart 953 yang satu bodonya minta ampun. yang one stupid-def ask mercy ‘The two were smart, the other one was dumb beyond belief.’7
Here, the speaker is telling his friends about three women he had met the previous evening at a club. In IU 952 he uses a referring yang construction to highlight two of the women out of the set of three, and predicates them as pinter “smart”. In the subsequent IU, the speaker uses another yang construction to highlight the one remaining woman in the set, and contrasts her with the two other women by predicating her as “dumb beyond belief ”. In both instances, the yang construction is a referring expression serving as the argument for the predicate associated with it in the same IU. The yang constructions discussed so far in this section highlight specific members out of a known set, forming a referring expression about which something is predicated. A related function for this construction is to negotiate the identity of a referent, as highlighted by the three yang constructions in the following example. Here, these yang constructions are three unattached NPs not associated with a predicate at all.
.
The expression minta ampun indicates something is true to a great and negative extreme.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
(18) (“Dingdong” IU 843–845) 843 Yang kemarin. yang yesterday 844 Yang rambut panjang itu. yang hair long that 845 Yang ininya yang this-def
dicukur. pt-shave
‘The one from the other day. That one with long hair. The one with this here (eyebrows) shaved.’
Immediately prior to this excerpt, speaker L (Lala) had been talking about one of the women he met at a club (one member of the same group of women he was talking about in (17) which occurs later in the same conversation). Speaker E (Evan) wants to know which one L is talking about, and L answers with the excerpt cited here. Each IU consists of a referring yang construction, as an unattached NP. These function to list the attributes of a woman whom Evan had seen the previous day, in order to aid Evan in identifying her specifically. In addition to highlighting a member out of a known set, the specific pragmatic intent here is to aid the interlocutor in negotiating the referent’s identity. A third related function of referring yang constructions is in providing an ad hoc label for a referent. This happens when the exact identity of a referent is unknown or irrelevant, but the speaker needs a label to refer to the referent in the discourse. This is an impromptu label often times used for the nonce. The following example contains two such ad hoc referent formulations, where a woman is referred to by the number of glasses of alcohol she has consumed. (For ease of reading the example, and in order to highlight the two yang constructions, I have omitted five IU’s of commentary occurring between IUs 853–859.) (19) (“Dingdong” IU 853–862) 853 yang satu dua gelas udah mabuk. yang one two glass already drunk 859 Yang empat gelas itu, yang four glass that 860 . . . gua masih sadar, 1sg still conscious
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861 nggak apa-apa. neg what:redup 862 Gua kencing cuman sekali @@@. 1sg urinate only one:time ‘The two-glass one was already drunk. The four-glass (said): “I’m still conscious. No problem. I’ve only pissed once.”’
In this excerpt, the two yang constructions provide makeshift labels for referring to the two women; yang satu dua gelas “the two-glass one” in IU 853, and yang empat gelas “the four-glass” in IU 859. The speaker does not know the names of these women, but needs a handy label to refer to them. This is an instance where a speaker uses a referring yang construction as an ad hoc label when the name of the referent is otherwise unknown. Another type of ad hoc label occurs when the speaker wishes to highlight a particular characteristic of the referent, and to refer metonymically to the referent with that label. The following example is illustrative. (20) (“Pencuri” IU 3392) . . . Yang udah sarjana lupa jadwal. Yang already degree forget schedule ‘The Bachelor’s degree has forgotten the schedule.’8
Here speaker I (Indra) is teasing L (Lucy), who had recently graduated from the university with an undergraduate degree. L was no longer a student, while speaker I and the other interlocutors still were. L had just said something which gave speaker I the impression that she was out-of-touch with the other housemates and their exam schedules. Rather than referring to L by any of the standard second-person address forms, or even by L’s own name which is also a standard way of doing second-person address in Indonesian, speaker I uses a referring yang construction to create an ad hoc label for L, focusing on the characteristic of her having already graduated. A third type of ad hoc label occurs when the identity of the referent is irrelevant – usually by virtue of being nonspecific and nonreferential as in the following example. (21) (“Pencuri” IU 1517) … nggak ada yang peringatkan aku gitu ya. neg ex yang warn 1sg prt prt ‘There wasn’t anybody to warn me.’
. The Indonesian term sarjana is roughly translatable into English as “Bachelor’s degree” or the holder of such a degree.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
Here speaker L is telling her interlocutors about a time when she got pickpocketed on a bus. L explains that one of the reasons it happened is that no one on the bus had clued her in to the fact that there was a pickpocket at work. The predicate of this clause is the negative existential predicate nggak ada, and the argument (the entity whose lack of existence is being predicated) is the referring yang construction yang peringatkan aku (roughly translated as “one who warned me”). This is again an ad hoc title for a referent, since it is used here to identify a referent by a particular characteristic (namely that of warning other people). But the referent itself is nonspecific and nonreferential since it refers to a person who does not exist in the discourse world L is constructing. This referring yang construction provides an impromptu label for a referent when the identity of the referent is irrelevant. To conclude this section, I offer an extended excerpt containing five instances of yang constructions. Four of these are of the referring type, nicely illustrating the functions of referent identification, negotiation, and ad hoc labeling discussed throughout this section. In the context leading up to this example, the interlocutors are discussing their plans for the evening. Y is going to a movie, L and D are going out to eat. In this excerpt, L asks Y which movie she plans to see. The Eddie Murphy movie The Nutty Professor had just been released in Indonesia, and this is the film Y intends to see – except that she apparently does not know its title. This example contains five yang constructions: one as presupposed information in a cleft (IU 3695) and the remaining four (IUs 3692, 3699, 3700, and 3701) occur as referring expressions used in the negotiation of the identity of this referent – the film Y is planning to see. (22) (“Pencuri” IU 3691–3705) 3691 L: Kamu nonton ape. 2sg at-watch what 3692 Y: . . . Yang disebutin Mbak Rita semalam itu apa. yang pt-mention-app sister Rita a-night that what 3693 L: Apa sih? what prt 3694 D: Nell. Nell 3695 Y: [Yang bagus itu -lah]. yang good that-prt
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3696 L: [Nell belum main]. Nell not:yet play 3697 Belum main. not:yet play 3698 . . . [2Ya masih midnight2]. yes still midnight 3699 Y: [2Yang itu, yang that 3700 yang lucu2] itu lho. yang funny that prt 3701 Katanya yang [3professor3]. Word-def yang professor 3702 L: [3O = 3], oh 3703 itu. that 3704 Eddie Murphy. Eddie Murphy. 3705 Y: He-e. aff ‘L: What movie will you see? Y: The one that Rita was talking about the other night? L: What’s that? D: Nell. Y: [That’s the good one]. L: [Nell isn’t playing yet]. It’s not playing yet. [2It’s still at midnight2].
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
Y: [2That one, the funny one2]. She said, [3the professor one3]. L: [3Oh3], that. Eddie Murphy. Y: Yeah.’
In IU 3691, L asks Y which movie she plans to see. In 3692, Y responds using the first of five yang constructions: Yang disebutin Mbak Rita semalam itu, “the one Rita mentioned the other night”. This referring yang construction contains a full clause, with a patient-trigger verb and an expressed agent, and it is occurring as an unattached NP closed by the demonstrative/determiner itu “that”. This picks the referent out of a set, the set of currently-playing movies, and identifies it as the one which Rita had been talking about. But Y concludes the IU with the interrogative apa “what” to indicate that she does not actually know its title. L prompts for further clarification in IU 3693, to which D proffers the title Nell in IU 3694. In IU 3695, Y responds to D’s proffered title with a cleft containing a second yang construction (yang bagus itulah “that’s the good one”) indicating that she believes this is indeed the title of the movie she has in mind. The yang construction here, yang bagus “the good one”, presents the presupposed information in the cleft (there is a “good” movie showing) and this presupposed information is grounded to the pronoun itu “that” marked with the emphatic suffix -lah.9 Simultaneously to this (as indicated by the overlap brackets) L rejects D’s suggested title in IU’s 3696–3698, concluding that this cannot be the movie since Nell is only playing at the midnight show, and thus not at the one Y is going to. In IU’s 3699–3701, Y continues to negotiate ad hoc labels for the movie with three more yang constructions: yang itu “that one”, yang lucu itu “the funny one”, and yang professor “the professor one”. This apparently has provided enough information for L to identify the movie, since L responds with the (prosodically-lengthened) recognitional particle o = “oh” in IU 3702, the demonstrative itu “that” in IU 3703, and the name of the actor Eddie Murphy in IU 3704, to which Y gives an affirmative response in IU 3705 indicating that L’s understanding is correct. In sum, four of the five yang constructions in this example (excluding IU 3695) are of the referring type discussed in the present section. Each serves as an ad hoc label for the movie, contributes to the negotiation of the movie’s identity, and seeks to highlight this film out of the set of currently-showing films. These four are also interesting because they clearly illustrate the range of grammatical material which can occur in referring yang constructions: a full clause in IU 3692, an adjective in IU 3700, a noun in IU 3701,
. In general, the particle lah is multi-functional and difficult to gloss. In this particular case it serves as a marker of emphasis, expressing strong speaker commitment that itu “that” really is the movie Y has in mind.
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and a bare demonstrative/determiner in IU 3699. All four of these constructions occur as unattached NPs. This section has shown several examples of referring yang constructions. The overlapping pragmatic functions of this construction type include: highlighting one particular referent out of a set, negotiating the identity of a referent for an interlocutor, and providing an ad hoc label for a referent whose identity is unknown or irrelevant. Unlike the noun-modifying constructions illustrated in section 3.1 which are analyzable as subordinate clauses, the ones in this present section are in no way subordinate. In all instances of referring yang constructions, the yang construction itself is an NP, either serving as a direct argument of a predicate or occurring as an unattached NP. 3.4 Yang constructions as a continuum I began this paper by suggesting that colloquial Indonesian yang constructions are continuous and polyfunctional. I claimed they illustrate a blurring of the distinction between subordinate clause and phrasal constituent; more specifically, a blurring of the distinction between relative clause and noun phrase. I claimed that the colloquial Indonesian yang construction can be thought of as a continuum with three general foci. The previous subsections have illustrated each of the foci of this construction type: subordinate clauses modifying a head noun, phrasal constituents expressing presupposed information in clefts, and referring expressions serving as direct arguments of predicates or as unattached NPs. This supports my suggestion that the yang construction is polyfunctional. In this current section I will take up the other part of my claim, namely that this construction forms a continuum. The first sense in which this construction is a continuum is in terms of form, based on size and complexity. On one end of the continuum are large, complex constructions – full clause-like units with a predicate and at least one overtly specified argument. At the other end of this formal continuum are small, simple constructions consisting only of a single function-word: yang constructions containing a single demonstrative/determiner. Constructions of various sizes exist between these two poles: prepositional phrases, intransitive verbs, adjectives, and nouns. Examples throughout the paper have illustrated constructions at various points along this formal continuum of size and complexity, and we observe that this formal continuum cross-cuts each of the functional types. For instance, clauselike yang constructions are illustrated in each of the previous three sections: as noun modifiers in (1), (3), and (4); in clefts as in (12); and in referring expressions such as (21) and IU 3692 in (22). Small and simple yang constructions are found in each functional type as well, as are those which are in between.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
The second sense in which yang constructions form a continuum is in terms of discourse function. The previous three sections have illustrated yang constructions at three foci of function: noun-modifiers (both restrictive and attributive modification of a specific referent), information-flow management (as the presupposed portion of a cleft), and referring expressions (having to do with identifying or labeling a referent). If these discourse functions in fact represent a continuum, then one would expect to find fuzzy boundaries along the continuum – examples falling in between these three general foci. And such examples are indeed attested in the corpus: specific instances of yang constructions which could be analyzed one way or another. The remainder of this section will present examples of yang constructions on the boundaries, having more than one possible discourse function. First, it is notable that there is no clear-cut distinction between yang constructions which present the presupposed information in clefts, and yang constructions which are referring expressions. The former are also referring expressions – but the difference has essentially to do with the larger clause-types in which they are found, the cleft yang constructions occurring in equational sentences. Note, for example, the two possible English translations of both (11) and (14) which capture this multifunctional interpretation. These two examples are repeated here as (23) and (24) for ease of reference. (23) (“Blewah” IU 514) Yang enak itu sosisnya. yang delicious that sausage-def ‘What’s delicious is the sausage.’/‘The delicious thing is the sausage.’ (24) (“Pencuri” IU 2019–2020) 2019 Yang penting kan, yang important prt 2020 duitnya selamat. money-def safe ‘What’s important is, the money is safe.’/‘The important thing is, the money is safe.’
In these examples, the yang construction is both a referring expression, as well as the presupposed information in the equational sentence. This suggests that there is no clear borderline between these two general functions. The boundary between noun-modifiers and referring expressions is somewhat more defined. For noun-modifiers, the yang construction is preceded by a head noun which it modifies (either restrictively or attributively). For referring expressions, the yang construction has no preceding head noun, and occurs either as the
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direct argument of a predicate or as an unattached NP. Yet, even here, there are a handful of cases in the corpus which show the fuzzy nature of this criterion. These borderline cases can be analyzed either as internally-headed relative clauses, or as simple NPs. Such construction types would be considered highly nonstandard as relative clauses, and there are only five such examples in the colloquial Indonesian corpus, two of which are presented below. (25) (“Wisuda” IU 726) J: . . . Kan ada itu yang gerbong kosong Gus kan, prt ex that yang train:coach empty Gus prt ‘There was that, an empty train car, you know, Gus.’
In the context of this example, J (Jef) was telling Gus about his recent trip to Jakarta by train. He is explaining to Gus that for a while there was an entirely empty train coach, which then quickly filled up. The yang construction in this clause can be analyzed in two ways. First, as a noun-modifying construction, the head gerbong “railroad car” appears inside the yang construction itself. This internally-headed relative clause would correspond to the standard Indonesian gerbong yang kosong (lit. “train car which is empty”). Alternatively, this constituent can be analyzed as a referring expression with no head, consisting simply of yang followed by the noun + adjective NP gerbong kosong “empty train car”. Both analyses are plausible, suggesting that this example is a borderline case between a noun-modifying relative clause and a simple NP referring expression. The following example is similar. (26) (“Dingdong” IU 1580–1581) 1580 E: … Yang cewek tadi, yang girl just:now 1581 jadi pacarnya. become girlfriend-def ‘That girl just now is going to become his girlfriend.’
This example comes from a context where the speakers are watching television and occasionally commenting about the program. Here, E wagers that the woman who just appeared on screen is going to end up as the girlfriend of the show’s protagonist. As with the previous example, there are two possible analyses of the yang construction in IU 1580. If the yang construction is analyzed as an internally-headed relative clause, then cewek “girl” is the head, and tadi “just now” is the modifier. This would correspond to the (constructed) standard Indonesian relative clause cewek yang tadi girl yang just:now
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
“the girl that (we) just now (saw)”, and the yang construction would be serving as a noun-modifier of cewek “girl”. If this is not an internally-headed relative clause, then it is a referring expression serving as the subject argument of the next IU, and cewek tadi (lit. “the just-now girl”) would be a simple NP with no head. Again, both analyses are plausible. In sum, the previous two examples demonstrate that there are indeed borderline cases of yang constructions which can be analyzed either as noun-modifiers or as referring expressions. These are rare, with only five attested examples in the corpus. However, the handful of examples like these, along with the borderline cases between clefts and referring expressions illustrated by (23)–(24) suggest that the three foci of this construction, in terms of the three general discourse functions it fulfills, are also nondiscrete. The existence of borderline cases suggests these functions should be seen as a continuum. As with the formal continuum of complex large constructions to simple small ones, these construction types are continuous and noncategorical, representing both a formal and functional cline from subordinate clause to noun phrase.
4. Discussion and conclusions Sections 3.1–3.3 have shown three general types of yang constructions in the colloquial Indonesian data. 3.1 illustrates noun-modifying yang constructions. These modify a head noun, and occur within an NP. Structurally, these have all the characteristics of relative clauses, and, like relative clauses in other languages, they function both restrictively (to restrict the referent denoted by the head noun) and attributively (to describe characteristics of the head noun). The yang constructions in 3.2 occur in equational sentences. Unlike relative clauses, they are headless and do not restrict or describe the referent of a head noun. Instead, these yang constructions manage information flow by highlighting presupposed information (usually information which is immediately accessible from the previous discourse or other contextual aspects of the situation), and this presupposed information is grounded to another referent in the equational sentence. In addition to grounding, another function of yang constructions in equational sentences is framing, where the yang construction provides an epistemic frame for the subsequent clause. Section 3.3 presents referring yang constructions. Unlike those in 3.1, referring yang constructions are headless and do not modify a noun. Unlike the yang constructions in section 3.2, referring yang constructions do not serve to manage presupposed information for grounding to another referent. Rather, they themselves occur structurally either as direct arguments to a predicate or as unattached NPs. Pragmatically, these constructions function in referent identification, including
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highlighting one particular referent out of a set, negotiating the identity of a referent for an interlocutor, and providing an ad hoc label for a referent whose identity is unknown or irrelevant. Section 3.4 suggests a cline of grammatical structure for yang constructions. On one end are the subordinate clause types discussed in section 3.1, and at the other end are the noun-phrase types as in section 3.3. Yang constructions are polyfunctional. They restrict a referent, describe a referent, ground a referent to presupposed information, provide epistemic framing for a referent, highlight one out of a set of referents, negotiate the identity of a referent, and provide ad hoc labels for a referent – and, as suggested in section 3.4, may serve more than one of these functions simultaneously. The central aim of this paper has been to discuss the form and functions of yang constructions as a unit – yang plus the material which it introduces. An important related question then would be regarding the status of yang itself. What would be the most appropriate gloss(es) for yang, and where does it belong in terms of grammatical category(s)? Traditional grammars of Indonesian have tended to classify yang as a relativizer. (See Simin 1988 for an overview and critique of this approach.) As generally understood, a relativizer refers to “the morpheme or particle that sets off the restricting clause as a relative clause (Payne 1997: 326). While the term “relativizer” is indeed appropriate for the uses of yang described in section 3.1, it is certainly not compatible with the other uses. Specifically, this definition is not at all applicable to yang in the referring yang construction type. Three possibilities come to mind for categorizing yang in referring constructions: (1) a determiner, (2) a nominalizer, or (3) a head, similar to the empty head-noun one in English. While a thorough answer to this question lies outside the scope of the present paper, what follows are a few thoughts on each of these possibilities. One difficulty in analyzing yang as a determiner is due to its pre-nominal position. Other Indonesian determiners (ini “this”, itu “that” etc.) occur post-nominally, while yang occurs pre-nominally. Also, in order to assess the information status of referring yang constructions, one would need to undertake a much larger study of colloquial Indonesian determiners and definite markers. Specifically, a worthwhile research question to pursue would be the relationship between yang in the referring yang constructions, the demonstrative determiners such as ini “this” and itu “that”, and the definite suffix -nya. Each of these forms relate to referent tracking, identifiability, referentiality, specificity, and the like. In order to more fully understand the role of yang in the referring yang constructions, one would need to obtain a broader understanding of the workings of referent tracking and information flow in colloquial Indonesian more generally. The second possibility, namely yang as a nominalizer, is equally problematic. First, Indonesian already has abundant nominalizing morphology, and none of it occurs in these constructions. Second, if yang is indeed a nominalizer, then we would not expect it to precede
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
lexical items which are already nouns or noun phrases, such as rambut panjang “long hair” in (18), or professor “professor” in IU 3701 of example (22). These are already nouns, and if yang is a nominalizer, this would lead to the unique situation of nouns themselves being nominalized. As for the third possibility, considering yang itself as a semantically-empty head noun, one possible argument in favor is that yang often appears to be modified by a determiner or a numeral. For instance, yang itu in example (16) or the numerals in both of the referring yang constructions in example (17). More research would need to be done into the grammatical characteristics of yang in referring yang constructions. In sum, while the exact grammatical status of yang lies outside the scope of the present paper, it would indeed be an interesting area for future research. From a descriptive and typological perspective, the next question is what to call Indonesian yang constructions. Are these all realizations of a single yang construction that has multiple functions, or are there many yang constructions which each warrant their own label? Clearly the term “relative clause” is inadequate, as it simply does not account for the structural and functional aspects discussed in sections 3.2–3.3. But is there, in fact, any label which could do justice to the Indonesian yang construction? I would argue that a need to apply so-called crosslinguistic labels to this construction reflects more the preoccupation of linguists with labels than it does the reality of Indonesian language-in-use. To my mind, the Indonesian yang construction is best labeled as exactly that: the Indonesian yang construction. It is best accounted for within a conception of grammar as languageand construction-specific (cf. Croft 2001). In other words, cross-linguistic labels do not accurately capture the form and function of this construction. Dryer (1997) has also argued strongly in favor of treating linguistic categories as languageparticular, and against treating them as cross-linguistic realities. Dryer’s discussion focuses specifically on grammatical relations, but the same could be said of the yang constructions discussed in this paper, and the presumed need to find a crosslinguistic, typologically-adequate label for them: The temptation that has led linguists in the past to posit structure in a crosslinguistic sense is driven precisely by the high degree of similarity among structures in different languages, a degree of similarity that leads to using the same labels for similar structures in different languages and eventually to the replication of these labels as labels for some unified crosslinguistic phenomenon. But, once we recognize that the similarities that lead to these labels are themselves simply the reflection of high degrees of isomorphism between different structures and a given function, then the need for positing crosslinguistic structures should evaporate. (Dryer 1997: 137)
Perhaps, then, the problem of what to call yang constructions is really not a problem at all. If they are understood to be a language-specific construction type unique
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to Indonesian, rather than some sort of reflection of a supposed cross-linguistic reality, then their formal cline and polyfunctional nature does not need to fit into a well-defined typological cubbyhole. In other words, while many yang constructions do in fact show a high degree of isomorphism with constructions in other languages that are termed relative clauses, this by no means justifies “relative clause” as a general label for Indonesian yang constructions. The Indonesian yang construction must be understood and defined on its own terms, as a cline from subordinate clause to noun-phrase, and as a polyfunctional construction. The colloquial Indonesian yang construction illustrates the blurring of a distinction between subordinate clause and noun phrase. I also submit that the findings of the current paper extend beyond mere questions of labels. “What to call the Indonesian yang construction?” misses the larger point – a point chiefly concerned with the very nature of grammar itself. A consequence of the continuous and polyfunctional nature of the colloquial Indonesian yang construction, and the accompanying blurring of the distinction between subordinate clause and nominal phrase, is that it leads quite naturally to a conception of form and function as emergent from discourse. In other words, the Indonesian yang construction as such has no a priori categorial status as either a “relative clause” or a “referring expression”. The classification of yang constructions as a member of one or the other of these categories is based entirely on how it is used at a particular occasion in discourse. As Hopper and Thompson have observed regarding the word-classes “noun” and “verb”: We should like to conclude, however, by suggesting that linguistic forms are in principle to be considered as LACKING CATEGORIALITY completely unless nounhood or verbhood is forced on them by their discourse functions. To the extent that forms can be said to have an a-priori existence outside of discourse, they are characterizable as ACATEGORIAL; i.e., their categorical classification is irrelevant. Categoriality-the realization of a form as either a N or a V-is imposed on the form by discourse. (Hopper & Thompson 1984: 747)
When applied specifically to grammatical categories in colloquial Indonesian, Hopper and Thompson’s claims about “nouns” and “verbs” find strong empirical support. Word-class membership is extremely flexible in colloquial Indonesian. Ewing observes: … monomorphemic forms tend to be rather flexible, and speakers of colloquial Indonesian will unflinchingly use a word that might generally be taken as a verb in a nominal function or vice versa without the derivational morphology prescribed by Standard Indonesian to mark the shift in word class. (Ewing 2005a: 230)
He then goes on to support this claim with several examples from his corpus. Given the loose and flexible nature of Indonesian word-classes such as “noun”
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
and “verb”, I believe it is reasonable to extend Hopper and Thompson’s insights to larger grammatical units as well. I would contend that colloquial Indonesian yang constructions are likewise loose and flexible and emergent from their use in discourse. To conclude, it is through ongoing attention to language-specific construction types such as the Indonesian yang construction and, in particular, the occurrence of such constructions in natural discourse, that we will continue to gain insight into larger issues of grammatical and functional diversity, clause combining, and the nature of grammar itself.
References Alwi, H., Dardjowidjojo, S. & Moeliono, A.M. (Eds). 1993. Tata Bahasa Baku Bahasa Indonesia, 2nd Edn. Jakarta: Departemen Pendidikan dan Kebudayaan, Republik Indonesia. Comrie, B. 1989. Language Universals and Linguistic Typology, 2nd Edn. Chicago IL: Chicago University Press. Comrie, B. 1998. Rethinking the typology of relative clauses. Language Design 1(1): 59–86. Croft, W. 2001. Radical Construction Grammar: Syntactic Theory in Typological Perspective. Oxford: OUP. Cumming, S. 2000. Functional range and overlapping types: colloquial Indonesian yang-phrases. Paper presented at UCSB Linguistics colloquium, Santa Barbara CA, February 24. Dryer, M.S. 1997. Are grammatical relations universal? In Essays on Language Function and Language Type: Dedicated to T. Givón, J. Bybee, J. Haiman & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 115–143. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Du Bois, J.W., Schuetze-Coburn, S., Paolino, D. & Cumming, S. 1993. Outline of discourse transcription. In Talking Data: Transcription and Coding Methods for Language Research, J.A. Edwards & M.D. Lampert (Eds), 45–89. Hillsdale NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Englebretson, R. 2003. Searching for Structure: The Problem of Complementation in colloquial Indonesian Conversation. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ewing, M.C. 1991. The discourse functions of relative clauses in Indonesian. BLS 17: 81–91. Ewing, M.C. 2005a. colloquial Indonesian. In The Austronesian Languages of Asia and Madagascar, A. Adelaar & N. Himmelmann (Eds), 227–258. London: Routledge. Ewing, M.C. 2005b. Grammar and Inference in Conversation: Identifying Clause Structure in Spoken Javanese. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ewing, M.C. & Cumming, S. 1998. Relative clauses in Indonesian discourse: Face to face and cyberspace interaction. In Papers from the Fifth Annual Meeting of the Southeast Asian Linguistics Society, S.L. Chelliah & W.J. de Reuse (Eds), 79–96. Tempe AZ: Arizona State University. Helasvuo, M.-L. 2001. Syntax in the Making: The Emergence of Syntactic Units in Finnish Conversation. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hopper, P.J. & Thompson, S.A. 1984. The discourse basis for lexical categories in universal grammar. Language 60(4): 703–752. Keenan, E.L. 1985. Relative clauses. In Language Typology and Syntactic Description. Vol. 2, T. Shopen (Ed), 141–170. Cambridge: CUP.
Robert Englebretson Keenan, E.L. & Comrie, B. 1977. Noun phrase accessibility and universal grammar. Linguistic Inquiry 8(1): 63–99. Keenan, E.L. & Comrie, B. 1979. Data on the noun phrase accessibility hierarchy. Language 55(2): 333–351. Ochs, E., Schegloff, E.A. & Thompson, S.A. (Eds). 1996. Interaction and Grammar. Cambridge: CUP. Ono, T. & Thompson, S.A. 1994. Unattached NPs in English conversation. BLS 20: 402–419. Payne, T.E. 1997. Describing Morphosyntax: A Guide for Field Linguists. Cambridge: CUP. Simin, A.M. 1988. Discourse-Syntax of “Yang” in Malay (Bahasa Malaysia). Kuala Lumpur: Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka. Sneddon, J.N. 1996. Indonesian: A Comprehensive Grammar. London: Routledge. Steinhauer, H. 1992. On the meaning of yang in Indonesian. In The Language Game: Papers in Memory of Donald C. Laycock, T. Dutton, M. Ross & D. Tryon (Eds), 427–439. Canberra: Dept. of Linguistics, Research School of Pacific Studies, Australian National University. Tao, H. 1996. Units in Mandarin Conversation: Prosody, Discourse, and Grammar. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Thompson, S.A. 2002. ‘Object complements’ and conversation: towards a realistic account. Studies in Language 26(1): 125–164. Thompson, S.A. & Mulac, A. 1991a. The discourse conditions for the use of the complementizer that in conversational English. Journal of Pragmatics 15(3): 237–251. Thompson, S.A. & Mulac, A. 1991b. A quantitative perspective on the grammaticization of epistemic parentheticals in English. In Approaches to Grammaticalization. Vol. 2, E. Traugott & B. Heine (Eds), 313–329. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
Appendix A. Abbreviations and glosses 1sg, 2sg, 3sg, 1pl, 2pl, 3pl aff app at def ex neg nv prt pt redup
first, second, and third person, singular and plural affirmative backchannel applicative suffix: -i, -kan, or -in Agent-Trigger prefix: N- or meN-nya suffix (definite, possessive, and other functions) existential morpheme: ada negative morpheme nonvolitional prefix: ter- or kediscourse particle Patient-Trigger prefix: direduplication
Appendix B. Summary of transcription conventions (Adapted from Du Bois et al., 1993) Each transcript line represents a single Intonation Unit. Speaker labels appear in uppercase, and are followed by a colon.
From subordinate clause to noun-phrase
Simultaneous speech is indicated by indexed square brackets [ ], [2 2], [3 3], etc. (not aligned in this paper because of glossing difficulty). . , ? – - @ % = .. … (TSK) (H)
Final intonation contour. Continuing intonation contour. Appeal intonation contour. Truncated Intonation Unit. Truncated word. One pulse of laughter. Glottal stop. Prosodic lengthening. Short pause. Long pause. Tongue click. In-breath.
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish* Ricardo Etxepare CNRS, UMR5478
In colloquial speech, main clauses in Iberian Spanish can be headed by an overt complementizer. This paper develops the idea that such structures in Spanish involve an extra speech eventuality, and that this speech eventuality is syntactically mapped as a complex verbal predicate. This complex predicate is composed by a light verb and a quotative dependent. It is thus akin to what in other languages are called “Quotative Verbs” framing direct or semi-direct speech (Güldemann 2001). Several types of evidence are brought to bear on issues such as the semantic primitives involved in the quotative predication, and the syntactic configurations giving rise to the complex predicate.
1. Root complementizers in Spanish The complementizer que in Spanish is standardly considered to introduce finite dependents, dependents which either modify (1a) or saturate (1b) elements of the main clause (see e.g., Delbecque & Lamiroy 1999). Descriptive grammars of Spanish also distinguish a conjunctive que, which links two clausal terms (see Alarcos 1982) (1c): (1) a.
He visto a [[la persona]i [Opi que ti vino el otro día]] I-have seen prep the person that came the other day ‘I saw the person who was here the other day’
*Different parts of this research have been presented at the Symposium Syntactic Functions-
Focus on the Periphery, held in Helsinki (2003), at the 2003 meeting of the project Architecture de la Phrase (Axe CP) of the Féderation Typologie et Universaux (CNRS), at the Spring Linguistics Meeting of the Spanish and Portuguese Department at the University of California Santa Barbara (2004), at the Second Vasconian Meeting on Semantics and Pragmatics in Sara (2004), and at the 9th International Pragmatics Conference (2005) in Garda Lake, Italy. I want to thank all the audiences. I also acknowledge financial support from the project “Architecture de la Phrase” of the Fédération Typologie et Universaux at CNRS, directed by Alain Kihm and Hans Obenauer, as well as the project BFF2002–04238-C02–01, from the MCYT, led by Miriam Uribe-Etxebarria. Finally, I would like to thank the editors of the volume for their ideas, their assistance and their patience.
Ricardo Etxepare
b. Juan cree [que María vino ayer] Juan believes that María came yesterday c.
Me voy, [que hace frío] cl I-am-leaving, that it-is cold ‘I am leaving, since it is so cold’
This paper presents and analyzes data which, to a first approximation, result equally puzzling for any of the functions normally attributed to que. In all those functions, que expresses some type of dependency: its occurrence requires an antecedent term, and que seems to relate the antecedent to a following proposition. In colloquial speech, however, main clauses in Iberian Spanish can be headed by an overt complementizer (Spitzer 1942; Porroche Ballesteros 1995; García 1996; Etxepare 1997), which does not seem to be linked to any other term. Compare in this regard the minimal pairs in (2) and (3): (2) a.
Oye, el Barça ha ganado la Champions Listen, the Barcelona has won the Champions League
b. Oye, que el Barça ha ganado la Champions listen that the Barça has won the Champions League (3) a.
Si viene mi madre, el tabaco es tuyo if comes my mother the tobacco is yours
b. Si viene mi madre, que el tabaco es tuyo if comes my mother that the tobacco is yours
The apparent optionality of the complementizer masks an important semantic difference between the (a) and (b) cases. Consider (2) first: as a typical declarative sentence, (2a) constitutes an assertion, whose propositional content is that a given soccer team (Barcelona) has won the Champions League. When compared with (2a), (2b) contributes the additional meaning that someone else (who is not the speaker) said (2a), such that the (speaker’s) utterance of (2b) constitutes a report of what has been said. (2b) is thus reported speech (Coulmas 1986), unlike (2a), which is an ordinary assertion. The two sentences would be produced in quite different settings: (2a) could be uttered for instance by a person who has been to the finals match, with the purpose of spreading the news. In such a setting, (2b) would be definitely odd. (2b), on the other hand, would be appropriate if I were listening to the radio and heard the news that Real Madrid won the Champions League. Then I could choose to report on the news by employing the comp-initial sentence. In that case, I would be implying that I got the news from someone else’s saying, as was the case. Now consider (3). Imagine the following situation: two teenagers are secretly smoking in a room. Suddenly, fearing that his mother could show up and find out,
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
one tells the other (3a): “si viene mi madre, el tabaco es tuyo”. By saying that, the speaker asks the other person to act as if the tobacco was his or hers, if mother comes. By saying (3b), the speaker asks something more than just pretense: he or she asks the other person to say that the tobacco is his or hers. If the roommate doesn’t say so, he or she will not be complying with the speaker’s request. In both cases, the semantic contribution of the clause initial complementizer is that of adding (or referring to) an explicit speech event. Taken together, (2)–(3) clearly show that the phenomenon of main clause complementizers in Spanish must be kept separate from clause typing phenomena, where a clause initial complementizer marks a sentence as declarative (cf. Gascon, Rohlfs 1977; Campos 1992): the presence of the sentence initial complementizer doesn’t make a sentence declarative (the sentences in (2) and (3) are all declarative). Despite the apparent “hearsay” interpretation of (2b), it should also be distinguished from evidentiality phenomena, where the assertoric force of the sentence is modified by particles that indicate the source of the information (Aikhenvald 2004; Chafe & Nichols 1986; Rooryck 2001a,b; Dendale & Tasmowski, 2001): hearsay particles would be decidedly odd in contexts such as (3b), where the assertoric force is not in question, but rather an explicit saying is requested from the hearer. Finally, sentence initial complementizers in Spanish do not have an emphatic function (cf. Arabic ?inna, Shlonsky 2000). No particular emphatic function is associated to the complementizer que in these cases. The presence of the root complementizer in those contexts seems to be related to the presence of a speech eventuality in the logical form of the sentence, which is otherwise absent. This paper is a preliminary analysis of root complementizer constructions in Spanish. I will defend the view that root complementizer constructions in Spanish involve a speech eventuality which is mapped in the grammatical representation of the sentence as an indefinite description. This indefinite description contributes an existential quantification over a variable ranging over utterances, adapting a proposal of Lahiri’s (2002) for “quotative” dependents in Spanish. The indefinite description can be part of a more complex structure, consisting of the indefinite description plus a light verb. This complex verbal structure is analogous to what in other languages are called “quotative verbs” (see Lord 1993; Frajzingier 1996; Güldemann 2001; Amberber 1996a, among many others): it introduces a report and frames constituents which may show properties of direct or semi-direct discourse. The paper is divided as follows: it starts by describing some basic properties of quotative constructions in Spanish (section 2), showing that the underlying speech eventuality has a grammatical representation and seems to possess properties of speech act operators, in the sense of Krifka (2001). Section 3 analyses the internal event configuration of the quotative VP.
Ricardo Etxepare
Section 4 discusses how the que-clause relates to the rest of the quotative structure. Section 5 discusses the temporal anchoring of the quotative construction. It is shown that features other than Tense, such as vocatives or locative demonstratives, containing deictic indices, help anchor the quotative construction in the discourse. In this regard, quotative constructions in Spanish seem to behave as verbal structures in languages which have no grammatical Tense (see Ritter & Wiltschko 2005).
2. Basic properties of root complementizer constructions 2.1 Adverbial modification and pronominal anaphora A standard test to determine which kind of underlying abstract object we are dealing with in a given construction is to find out under which semantic context anaphoric reference to that abstract object is possible (Asher 1993; Ormazabal 1995). Consider in this regard the following contrasts: (4) a. Si viene mi madre, el tabaco es tuyo, #y rápidamente/educadamente if comes my mother the tobacco is yours and rapidly/politely ‘#If my mother comes, the tobacco is yours, and politely/quickly’ b. Si viene mi madre, que el tabaco es tuyo, y if comes my mother that the tobacco is yours, and
rápidamente/educadamente rapidly/politely
“If my mother comes, you say that the tobacco is yours, and you say it politely/quickly’
Manner adverbs such as rápidamente “rapidly” or educadamente “politely” modify events. Whereas in (4a) the sentence cannot be followed by a conjunct that contains an event-modifying adverb, in (4b) that same continuation is possible, under the interpretation that the modified event corresponds to the speech event associated to the complementizer. That is, what must be rapid or polite is the saying that the tobacco is yours. The adverbial modifiers can also precede the complementizer, directly modifying the speech event: (5) a. #Si vienen mi madre, educadamente/rápidamente el tabaco es tuyo if comes my mother politely/quickly the tobacco is yours b. Si viene mi madre, educadamente/rápidamente que el tabaco es if comes my mother politely/quickly that the tobacco is
tuyo yours
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
A similar test can be devised with pronominal anaphora: (6) a.
Si vienen a buscarlo, [está fuera]i. if they-come to look-after-cl, he-is away #Proi apenas te costará. barely cl take-an-effort-fut ‘(#)If they come after him, he is away. It will barely take you any effort.’
b. Si vienen a buscarlo, [(tú) que está fuera]i. if they-come to look-after-cl, (you) that he-is dead long ago
Proi apenas te costará. barely cl take-an-effort-fut
‘If they come after him, (you) sayi he is away. Iti will barely take you any effort.’
The null pronoun is the subject of the verb costar “take you an effort/cost”. This is a typical insertion context for event denoting anaphors (Petersen 1982). As shown by the oddness of (6a), the pretense main clause can not provide the right type of antecedent. In (6b), the pronoun can refer to the speech event associated to the complementizer, and the sentence is good. 2.2 Lexical content, thematic structure and complement selection Events typically have participants, and clause initial complementizers in Spanish support the presence of nominal expressions that play a thematic role in the speech event. Consider for instance the following cases: (7) a.
Tu padre que cuándo vas a ir a visitarle your father that when you-are-going to visit him ‘Your father is saying: “when are you going to visit me?”’
b. Si viene mi madre, tú a ella que el tabaco es tuyo if comes my mother, you to her that the tobacco is yours ‘If my mother comes, you say to her that the tobacco is yours’
In (7a) the nominal expression preceding the complementizer is interpreted as the agent in the speech event. In (7b) we have an agent and a goal. The presence of thematic material in (7) indicates the presence of a tacit verbal structure. This structure must then involve a lexical feature, one that can project a Verb Phrase. This lexical feature, I will call [linguistic communication], a term I adopt from Ross’s performative hypothesis (1970). The necessity of invoking such an abstract feature (instead of a more elaborate one, akin to ordinary verbs of saying) is illustrated by cases such as (8), where the understood eventuality is not, strictly speaking, speech-like:
Ricardo Etxepare
(8) Etxepare, 100 veces en la pizarra y con buena letra Etxepare, 100 times in the blackboard and with good writing que no tirarás nada a tus compañeros that neg you-will-throw anything to your classmates “Etxepare write 100 times and with good handwriting that you will not throw anything to your classmates”
This lexical feature only selects speech act complements, unlike ordinary verbs of saying. Consider in this regard a typical verb of saying such as decir “say/tell”: (9) a.
Pedro ha dicho quién viene Pedro has said who is-coming ‘Pedro said who is coming’
b. Pedro ha dicho que quién viene Pedro has said that who is-coming ‘Pedro said: who is coming?’
As other verbs of speech, such as preguntar “ask” and responder “answer”, the verb decir “say” can take complements of different semantic dimensionality: it can take sets of propositions, such as interrogative or exclamative wh-complements, or it can take utterances or speech act complements (Plann 1982; Brucart 1992; Lahiri 2002; Suñer 1993; Uriagereka 1988). In the latter case, the verb introduces a dependent which is interpreted with its own illocutionary force. Note that only dependents of the (9b) type can be understood as true embedded questions (as embedded requests for information). This difference is keyed to the presence of the complementizer que. Unlike ordinary verbs of saying, the tacit verb of quotative constructions can only select dependents with their own illocutionary force: sentences analogous to (9a) are impossible in the quotative construction: (10) a. *Juan, tu padre Ø quién viene Juan, your father who comes (Intended meaning) ‘Juan, your father is saying who is coming’ b. Juan, tu padre Ø que quién viene Juan, your father that who is-coming ‘Juan, your father is saying: who is coming?’
2.3 Main clause distribution The tacit speech eventuality cannot be embedded in further clausal structure. No verbal quotative can be projected in clausal topicalizations, adverbial modifiers, or conditional clauses (11), nor in finite dependents of any sort (12): (11) a. *[Mick Jagger Ø que no quiere venir], es la peor noticia Mick Jagger that neg wants to come is the worst news
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
que he recibido that I-have got
‘Mike Jagger saying that he is not coming is the worst news I got’
b. *[Si Mick Jagger Ø que no viene], yo me marcho if Mick Jagger that neg is-coming I cl leave ‘If Mick Jagger says that he is not coming, I’ll leave’ c. *La gente está decepcionada [porque Mick Jagger Ø que no viene] the people is upset because Mick Jagger that neg is-coming ‘People are upset because Mick Jagger says he is not coming’ d. *La gente no hace caso [mientras Mick Jaeger Ø que no viene] the people neg pays attention while Mick Jagger that neg is-coming ‘People aren’t paying attention as Mick Jagger says he is not coming’ (12) *La gente dice [que Mick Jagger Ø que no viene] the people say that Mick Jaeger that neg is-coming (Intended meaning) ‘People are saying that Mick Jagger says that he is not coming’
2.4 Quantification over speech eventualities A straightforward way of checking whether some particular construction involves an underlying eventuality or not is to see whether the purported eventuality can be quantified over (Parsons 1990). Consider the following sentences: (13) a.
Tú siempre que qué bonito es aquello, ya estoy harto You always that how beautiful is that already I-am sick-of-it ‘You are always saying: “how beautiful that is” I am sick of it’
b. Tú siempre que cuándo viene You always that when he-is-coming ‘You are always saying “when is he coming?”’
In (13a,b) a universal quantifier precedes the complementizer and takes scope over the speech event. The result, as shown in the translations, is a universal quantification over speech events. Not all quantifiers are acceptable in root complementizer structures, though. Negative adverbs, for instance, are out.1 . This constitutes evidence that the tacit speech event is not simply an elided verb say or some other verb of communication. Well known elision processes, such as gapping, are insensitive to the nature of the surrounding quantifiers:
(i) a.
Siempre me dices que haga esto pero nunca [me dices] que haga lo otro always cl tell that do-subj. this but never cl tell that do-subj. D other ‘You always tell me that I should do this, but never [___] that I should do that’
Ricardo Etxepare
(14) a. *Tu nunca que cuántos vienen You never that how many come ‘You never say “how many are coming?”’ b. *Tu nunca que qué bonito es You never that how beautiful is ‘There’s never a saying of the sort “How beautiful it is”’ (15) a. *Tu rara vez que cuántos vienen You seldom that how-many come ‘You seldom say “how many are coming?”’ b. *Tu rara vez que qué bonito es esto You seldom that how beautiful is this ‘You rarely tell me “how beautiful this is”’
This restriction on negative quantifiers extends to the subject of the quotatives: (16) a.
Aquí todo dios que cuándo les van a subir el sueldo here every one that when cl they-are-going to raise the salary ‘Everyone is saying: “When are they going to give us a raise?”’
b. *Aquí nadie que cuándo les van a subir el sueldo Here noone that when cl they-are-going to raise the salary c. *Aquí poca gente que cuándo les van a subir el sueldo here few people that when cl they-are-going to raise the salary
Those restrictions on the kind of quantifier that can precede the tacit speech event are reminiscent of the intervention effects that have been observed in split and in situ operator constructions (Beck 1996; Honcoop 1998; Pesetsky 2000; Mathieu 2002, among others). Consider for instance the contrast in (19a,b), (apud Beck, 1996): b. Siempre me dices cuándo llegan pero rara vez [me dices] cuántos always cl tell when they-arrive but seldom cl tell how-many
vienen come ‘You always tell me when they are coming but seldom how many they are’
The same happens with quantificational subjects: (ii)
Todo dios dice cuando va a every one says when he/she-is
venir, coming,
pero nadie [e] cuanto tiempo se va a quedar but noone how long he/she-is-going to stay
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
(17) a. *Was glaubt niemand wer da war? What thinks no one who there was ‘Who does no one think was there?’ b. Was glaubt jeder wen Karl gesehen hat? What thinks everyone who Karl saw? ‘Who does everyone think Karl saw?’
Whereas a split construction cannot have an intervening downward entailing quantifier, it accepts a universal quantifier. This would suggest that we treat the tacit, underlying speech eventuality as a quotative operator, undergoing LF movement across the quantifier (as proposed for split or in situ operator constructions in Pesetsky 2000, or Mathieu 2002). This quotative operator would then be similar to the one proposed for quote structures by Collins (1997). There are good reasons not to proceed that way, though. When analyzed closely, the set of quantifiers which induce intervention effects and those which can not precede quotative que are not the same: universal quantifiers are interveners in so called split constructions, but they can precede quotative que. The intervention effect of universal quantifiers in split constructions, unlike that of negative quantifiers, is only apparent at the interpretive level (Beck 1996): they disallow the wide scope reading of the in situ operator. Take again the contrast between (18a) and (18b): (18) a. *Was glaubt niemand wer da war? What thinks noone who there was ‘Who does no one think was there?’ b. Was glaubt jeder wen Karl gesehen hat? What thinks everyone who Karl saw? ‘Who does everyone think Karl saw?’
Beck (1996: 20) credits Pafel (1993) for observing that although grammatical, (18b) lacks a reading in which the in situ operator is interpreted as having wide scope. It must be obligatorily interpreted under the scope of the universal quantifier, eliciting a pair-list answer. Given that in situ operators obligatorily undergo LF movement to an A’ position, Beck is forced to argue that universal quantifiers such as every –unlike negative quantifiers such no one- undergo QR to a position that c-commands the LF landing site of the in situ operator. This analysis extends to other quantifiers such as meisten “most”, whose intervention effect is also only apparent at the interpretive level. Other possible quantificational expressions such as indefinites or only-DP nominals avoid the intervention effect by adopting a “referential” interpretation, instead of a quantificational one. Beck’s conclusion
Ricardo Etxepare
concerning universal quantifiers converges with Honcoop’s (1998) analysis of intervention effects. For Honcoop (1998), intervention effects of the sort illustrated in (18) are particular cases of more general restrictions in the construction of discourse referents. The blocking effect of universal quantifiers is then inmediately evident in cross-sentential anaphora: (19) Todo dios tiene un cochei. #proi es demasiado caro everyone has a car it-is too expensive
Unlike the complex array of scope interaction facts that we observe in split and in situ operator constructions, the quantificational restrictions in the domain of quotative constructions are extremely simple: only the universal quantifier can quantify over the underlying speech event. Other quantifiers which can get around intervention configurations are simply impossible: (20) a. *Aquí la mayoría que el Madrid ha ganado la Champions here most that the Madrid has won the Champions b. *Aquí solo Juan que el Madrid ha ganado la Champions here only Juan that the Madrid has won the Champions c. *Aquí algunos que el Madrid ha ganado la Champions here some that the Madrid has won the Champions d. *Aquí alguien que el Madrid ha ganado la Champions here someone that the Madrid has won the Champions e. *Aquí muchos que el Madrid ha ganado la Champions here many that the Madrid has won the Champions
The special behavior of universal quantifiers vis-à-vis the rest of the quantifiers sets apart the quantificational restrictions on quotative constructions from those observed in any known typology of intervention effects. If the quantificational restrictions operating in quotative constructions can not be traced back to those noted in standard intervention configurations, what alternative do we have? Krifka (2001, 2003) has recently argued that the illocutionary force of the sentence is semantically represented by a speech act operator and that speech acts can be quantified over under restrictions which turn out to be identical to the ones operating on quotative constructions. Krifka shows that certain logical operations, such as disjunction or negation, are hardly applicable to speech acts. This is so because according to him the (denotation) domain of speech acts does not constitute a boolean algebra, but at most a semi-lattice. In such a domain, certain operations such as conjunction are well defined, whereas disjunction and negation are not. Consider for instance the following assertion (from Krifka 2001: 16):
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
(21) Al made the pasta and Bill made the salad a. I assert: Al made the pasta and Bill made the salad b. I assert: Al made the pasta, and I assert: Bill made the salad
The conjunction operator, as shown in (21a,b), can be interpreted either as conjoining the asserted propositions or as conjoining two acts of assertion. Unlike conjunction, disjunction is only interpreted at the propositional level: (22) Al made the pasta or Bill made the salad a. I assert: Al made the pasta or Bill made the salad b. #I assert: Al made the pasta, or I assert: Bill made the salad
Disjunction at the speech act level amounts to canceling the illocutionary force of the sentence. Speech acts also lack negation as a general operation (23). As Krifka notes, it is not clear what the complement of a speech act could possibly be.2 (23) a. #I don’t assert: Al made the pasta b. #Noone asserts: Al made the pasta
Quotative constructions, like speech act operators, reject disjunction and accept conjunction: (24) Tu padre que se está haciendo tarde y/#o your father that cl is getting late and/or tu madre que no os espera más your mother that neg cl wait-for anymore ‘Your father is saying: “it is getting late” and/??or your mother: “I am not waiting for you anymore”
. The use of assert here rather than some other verb of speech is not innocent. As Ritva Laury points out (p.c.), a verb such as say shows no similar restrictions:
(i) I’m not saying “Al made the pasta”
Observe however that the verb say does not necessarily commit its subject to perform an illocutionary act, in the sense of Austin (1957) or Searle (1972). In (ii), the subject may have said the following expression in the sense of “uttering the words” without committing him/herself to any assertion:
(ii) I’m saying “colorless green ideas sleep furiously” because it sounds funny
A similar example with assert would imply that the subject believes what he/she says, and that he/she intends the sentence to have an effect in the common ground shared by speaker and hearer in a conversational context. Interestingly, the kind of speech eventuality associated to quotative constructions in Spanish is closer to the assert-type, than to the say-type.
Ricardo Etxepare
Krifka extends his theory of speech acts to the analysis of pair-list readings in question-quantifier interactions. As shown by Chierchia (1993), only (non-negative) universal quantifiers give rise to pair-list interpretations. The pair-list reading induced by universal quantifiers directly follows from a semantic representation where the universal quantifier takes scope over a question act: (25) Which dish did every boy make? For every boy x: Which dish did x make? Which dish did Al make, which dish did Bill make, and which dish did Carl make?
If speech act operators participate in scope interactions, then the fact that only universal quantifiers give rise to pair list answers follows from the fact that only universal quantifiers can take scope over speech acts. And this is so because only universal quantifiers are generalized conjunctions. As Keenan and Faltz (1985) show, the universal quantifier is logically equivalent to a series of conjunctions, unlike the rest of the quantifier types: (26) a. b. c. d.
Every boy came Al came and Bill came and Carl came … Some/A boy came Al came or Bill came or Carl came No boy came Not: Al came or Bill came or Carl came Most boys came Al came and Bill came, or Al came and Carl came, or Bill came and Carl came
Quantifiers other than the universal one would amount to logical disjunction of the terms of the partition induced by the question. But the terms of the partition are, as shown, speech acts, and speech acts do not allow disjunction. If this is the right approach to the quantificational and boolean restrictions on the occurrence of quotative constructions, we are led to conclude that the tacit verb of quotative constructions, which supports thematic material and only selects speech act dependents, is akin to Krifka’s speech act operators. 2.5 Aspectual auxiliaries Krifka’s insight into the nature of speech act quantification opens the way to account for another intriguing asymmetry in quotative constructions. Quotative constructions can have overt aspectual auxiliaries (frequentative andar “walk”, locative-be estar “to be in a location”, and empezar “start”), in which case they are inflected with Tense and Agreement features: (27) a.
Tus padres siempre andan que cuándo iremos a visitarles your parents always they-walk that when we-will-go to visit them ‘Your parents are always saying: “when are you coming to visit us?”’
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
b. Tu hijo siempre estaba que cuándo podría montarse en el tiovivo your son always was that when he-could get in the carrousel ‘Your son was always saying: when will I get in the carrousel?’ c.
El niño empezó en el coche que cuánto faltaba para llegar the child started in the car that how long it-would-take to get there ‘The child started saying in the car: “when are we going to get there?”’
d. Tu padre sigue que cuándo vamos a ir a visitarles your father keeps that when we will-go to visit them ‘Your father keeps saying: “when are you coming to visit us?”’
Not all aspectual verbs are allowed in this context, though: (28) a. *Tus padres suelen que cuándo vamos a ir a visitarles your parents use-to that when we-will go to visit them b. *Tus padres terminaron/acabaron que porqué no íbamos a visitarles your parents ended up/finished that why neg we-went to visit them c. ??El crío va en el coche que cuándo vamos a llegar the child goes in the car that when we-will get there d. *El niño continúa que cuándo vamos a llegar the child continues that when we-are-going to et there
The asymmetry suggests, first, that the cases in (27) are not instances of a general process of coercion (one which would raise the type of a que-clause -a propositional entity- into a higher semantic type -that of speech acts- under the context [Asp __]. Then, they also show that whatever distinguishes the possible and the impossible cases does not have to do with the form of an eventual elided constituent: all cases would be good with an overt verb of saying, and in both (27) and (28) we seem to elide either gerunds or infinitives. Rather, the relevant feature seems to be the special habitual/iterative character of the good cases. Both andar “walk”, by itself a frequentative aspectual auxiliary, and estar “be” and empezar “start”, when they are combined with a gerund or an infinitive, support iterative readings. Terminar “end up” and acabar “finish” don”t. Ir “go” and continuar “continue” do not license iterative readings of the event they embed: consider in this regard the contrast between andar/empezar on the one hand (29) and ir/continuar on the other (30). (29) a.
El niño anda corriendo continuamente the child walks running continuously ‘The child stops and starts running continuously’
b. El niño empieza a correr continuamente The boy starts to run continuously ‘The boy stops and starts running once and again’
Ricardo Etxepare
(30) a.
El niño va corriendo continuamente the boy goes running continuously ‘The boy goes running continously’
b. El niño continúa corriendo todo el rato the boy continuesrunning all the time ‘The boy continues running all the time’
Whereas in (29), the aspectual auxiliaries allow (and in the case of empezar, force) a discontinuous reading of the event denoted by the lexical verb, this is not the case for ir “go” and continuar “continue”, where the adverb only modifies the process of running. We could consider iterative aspect as an instance of generalized conjunction at the event level. That is, instead of partitioning a domain of individuals, the aspectual auxiliaries would partition the event domain. Since in this case, partition involves speech eventualities, the same restriction applies. Ir and continuar become better with quotative dependents when they are conjugated with imperfective aspect: (31) a.
Los niños iban en el coche que cuándo íbamos a llegar the children went-imp in the car that when we-were-going to get there ‘The children went saying: “when are we going to get there?”’
b. ?Los niños continuaban que cuándo íbamos a llegar the children continued that when we-were-going to get there ‘The children continued saying: “when are we going to get there?’
If we take imperfective aspect to be a quasi-universal quantifier (Lenci & Bertinetto 2000) then the contrast between the imperfective cases and the cases in (28) can be put on a par with the previous quantificational restrictions: imperfective aspect, a quasi-universal quantifier, is a generalized conjunction. The account must then be extended to inherently habitual aspectual auxiliaries such as andar “walk” and to aspectual periphrases estar+gerund and empezar a “start to”, which license frequentative readings. Although at the present stage this hypothesis remains highly speculative, and further elaboration will be required to properly assess it, the parallel behavior of quantifiers and aspectual auxiliaries vis-à-vis the tacit speech eventuality points towards a common explanation. 2.6 Summary The speech event contributed by quotative constructions combines aspects of speech act operators, in the sense of Krifka (2001), and of ordinary event denoting expressions such as verbs. The speech event contributed by quotative constructions is akin to speech act operators in that: (i) it is only a main clause phenomenon (section 2.4); (ii) only selects for speech act dependents (2.2); and (iii) obeys quantificational restrictions typical of speech act operators (2.3). I have also shown how the semantic
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
analysis proposed for the quantificational restrictions can naturally extend to restrictions involving aspectual periphrases (section 2.5). Quotative constructions such as (3a,b), on the other hand, are akin to ordinary verbal constructions in that: (i) they take arguments and modifiers (2.1, 2.2, and next section); and (ii) they do not represent the ongoing speech event, but are always reporting constructions. The verbal structure identified in quotative constructions is reminiscent of performative verbs, in the sense of Ross (1970), in that it combines lexical content and features of illocutionary force. It is not fully performative in a very important regard, however: it does not represent the speaker as he/she utters the sentence. For that reason, it escapes the unwelcome consequences of the performative hypothesis (for those consequences, see Boer & Lycan 1980; Levinson 1983; Etxepare 1997, and references therein).3 3. The syntactic structure of verbal quotatives 3.1 Clause structure Like full quotative constructions headed by an aspectual verb (see section 2.5), auxiliary-less quotative constructions may have overt subjects, indirect objects and objects (the clausal dependents (but see section 3.2)), and they admit manner, aspect and agent oriented adverbial modifiers: (32) a.
Tú rápidamente que el tabaco es tuyo you rapidly that the tobacco is yours ‘You say quickly that the tobacco is yours’
b. Aquí todo dios constantemente que se trabaja demasiado here every one constantly that cl works too much ‘Here everyone is saying constantly that people work too much’ c.
Aquí todo dios de motu propio here every one voluntarily
. Simplifying: the performative hypothesis holds that the logical form of a sentence like (ia) is (informally) (ib). (ib) contains a performative expression which contributes the illocutionary force of the sentence: (i)
a. b.
The earth is flat (I (ASSERT (the earth is flat)))
The problem with this hypothesis is that if I assert (ia), then the sentence becomes automatically true, by virtue of the logical form in (ib) and the fact that I did assert that the earth is flat. In other words, under a truth-functional approach to meaning, all simple sentences become true when asserted by the speaker. The problem extends to other illocutionary forces too, under that approach.
Ricardo Etxepare
que quiere trabajar más, es lo nunca visto! that he-wants to work more, is the never seen
‘Here everyone voluntarily that he/she wants to work more, it is unheard-of!’
The adverbial evidence suggests that the tacit verbal structure projects a complex VP. Assuming recent work on the internal syntactic structure of complex events (Harley 1995; Kratzer 1996; Travis 2000; Borer 2005, among many others), the tacit VP would be composed of a light verb v and a sister VP: (33) …[AspP Asp0 [vP DP v0 [VP V0…CP]]]
For the moment being (we will come back to the internal structure of the vP in section 3.2.), we can take V to be the locus of the lexical feature [linguistic communication], v the locus of agentivity. Indirect objects would occupy the specifier of VP (Larson 1988; Baker 1996). If we follow Cinque (1999) in the idea that adverbs are (inner) specifiers of functional projections (or alternatively, that different subsets of them are associated to given functional domains (Ernst 2002; Tenny 2000), we are led to propose further functional structure above the VP. Verbal quotatives admit temporal modifiers: (34) a.
Tu padre ayer que no quería venir your father yesterday that neg he-wanted to-come ‘Your father was saying yesterday that he didn’t want to come’
b. Juan, tu padre hoy que no quiere venir Juan, your father today that neg he-wants to-come ‘Juan: your father is saying today that he doesn’t want to come’ c. Ya verás, tu padre mañana que no quiere venir you’ll see, your father tomorrow that neg he-wants to-come ‘You will see, your father will be saying tomorrow that he does not want to come’
In the three cases, the temporal adverb is understood as modifying the underlying speech eventuality. We therefore amend the structure in (34) to (35) (see section 4 for a revision):
(35) [TP T0 [AspP Asp0 [vP DP v0 [VP DP V0 [ CP]]]
It turns out that modifiers of a higher type, such as modal (root or epistemic) or factive adverbs, can not modify the quotative clause: (36) a.
(Tu padre) *sorprendentemente/*supuestamente/*probablemente/*quizá Your father surprisingly/allegedly/probably/perhaps
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
(tu padre) que cuándo venís everyone that when you-are coming ‘Your father surprisingly/allegedly/probably is saying: When are you coming?’
Truth-functional operators are also excluded from quotative constructions: (37) a. (*Sí) tu padre (*sí) que cuándo viene yes your father yes that when he-is-coming ‘Your father does say/says indeed: “when is he coming?”’ b. (*No) tu padre (*no) que cuándo viene neg your father neg that when he-is.coming ‘Your father does nor say: “when is he coming?”’
Auxiliary-less quotative constructions therefore, seem to have a reduced clausal structure. They have Tense, but offer no room for higher syntactic projections belonging to a CP domain (in the sense of Rizzi 1997; also Cinque 1999). The latter is confirmed by the fact that Case-marked topics (38a), question words (38b) and contrastive foci (38c), which must move into the CP-domain (see Torrego 1984, for wh-words; Campos & Zampini 1990; Laka 1990; Uriagereka 1995; Etxepare & Uribe-Etxebarria 2005, for contrastive foci; Cinque 1977 for Case-marked topics) are out in the quotative clause: (38) a. *A Juan, tu padre que le están esperando to Juan your father that cl they-are waiting ‘To John, your father is saying that they are waiting’ b. *Quién [] que viene? Who that comes ‘Who says he is coming?’ c. *PEDRO [] que viene Pedro that comes ‘PEDRO is saying that he is coming’
The ban extends to yes/no questions and exclamatory sentences, when they target the whole quotative construction: (39) a.
Tu padre [e] que viene? (sí o no?) Your father that he-is-coming (yes or no) ‘Is your father saying that he is coming?’
b. *¡Tu padre [e] que viene! Your father that he-is-coming ‘Your father says that he is coming!’
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Quotative constructions in Spanish thus seem to come in two types: a full one, showing an overt aspectual auxiliary; and a minimal one, a Tense Phrase, deprived of any overt morphosyntactic material beyond the event participants. 3.2 Event structure and the quotative verb In a study concerned with the lexico-conceptual structure of quotative verbs, Amberber (1996a) argues that in Amharic, there is strong evidence showing that the quotative verb is intransitive (see also Munro 1982 and De Roeck 1994, for verbs of saying generally). For Amberber, the lexico-conceptual structure of the basic quotative verb al “say” is represented as follows:4 (40) [Event GO ([Thing]A, [INNER MANNER]A, [Path] )])]
According to Amberber, the inner manner corresponds to the manner component of manner of speech verbs (Zwicky 1971) such as shout, mumble, or shriek. This manner component is filled in lexically in those verbs, but syntactically by the quote itself, in more basic verbs of saying like (quotative) say. The lexicoconceptual structure of quotative say as formulated in (40) would be transparently expressed by the colloquial English quotative construction go like (reported by Macaulay 2001) where the manner modifier is overtly marked by the preposition like.5 (41) He goes like [Quotation]
That verbs of saying and thinking in Spanish can be intransitive becomes visible in pairs such as the following: (42) a.
Así dijo (él)/ Lo dijo thus he-said/ Cl he-said ‘He said thus/He said it’
b. Así preguntó (él)/ Lo preguntó thus he-asked/ cl he-asked ‘He asked thus/He asked it’
. In Amharic, al is actually a light predicate which is used to create complex predicates (Amberber 1996b). The light predicate attaches to different lexical bases, among which ideophones (non-derived affixes expressing either a sound or some other manner dimension), in a configuration that Amberber takes to be parallel to quotative constructions. . For the different uses of like including its use as a preposition, see D’Arcy (2005) and references therein. The expression go like is one among others framing quotations (cf. be like).
c.
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
Así respondió (él)/*Lo respondió thus he anwered/cl he-answered ‘He answered thus/He answered it’
d. Así gritó (él)/ ?Lo gritó thus he-screamed/ cl he screamed ‘He screamed thus/??He screamed it’ e.
Asi piensa él Lo piensa thus he-thinks/ cl he-thinks ‘He thinks thus/he thinks it’
All verbs of speech can make anaphoric reference to their understood dependent through the manner demonstrative asi.6 Lo is also available, but not always
. It is often cited that we can also ask about the content of a verb of speech by how, rather than by what: (i) a.
Cómo has dicho? How have-you said ‘How did you say?’
b.
Qué has dicho? What have-you said? ‘What did you say?’
This possibility extends to other verbs of speech: (ii) a.
Tú cómo preguntaste? You how asked? ‘How did you ask?’
b.
Cómo respondiste? How you-answered ‘How did you answer?’
Verbs of communication which can frame a quotative dependent but which do not strictly involve speech, are less good with how: (iii) a. ??Cómo How
pensaste? you-thought
b. ??Cómo has escrito? How you-have written ‘How did you write?’
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(cf. Examples (c) and (d)).7 Lo and así on the other hand, do not make reference to identical elements: así anaphorically refers to speech act dependents; whereas lo does not seem to be fit for that function. (43) a.
Así dijo él, que cuándo ibamos a reunirnos thus he-said he, that when we-would meet ‘He said thus, (namely) when we would gather together’
b. ??Lo dijo él, que cuándo íbamos a reunirnos cl he-said he that when we would meet ‘He said it, namely when we would gather together’ (44) a.
Que cuándo íbamos a reunirnos, así dijo él that when we-would gather, so he said ‘When we would finally gather. Thus he said.
So the distribution of así and of how is not identical. Another case where a manner wh-pronoun seems to introduce dependents of verbs of speech is reportive como “how”: (iv)
Pedro contó/dijo como de pequeño iban a bañarse al río Pedro told how when a child they- went to swim in the river ‘Juan said how when he was a child, they used to go swim in the river’
Reportive como is also good with verbs of thinking, when the dependent is introduced by a preposition: (v)
Juan pensó *(en) cómo iban a bañarse al río de pequeños Juan thought in how they-went to swim-infinitive to the river when children
‘Juan thought of how they used to go swimming to the river’ Manner of speech verbs, however, are not good with reportive como:
(vi) *Juan respondió/gritó como no quería ir al río Juan asnwered/shouted how neg he-wanted go-infinitive to the river ‘Juan answered/shouted how he didn’t want to go to the river’ I will leave aside the possible commonalities and differences between anaphoric así “thus” and wh-pronoun cómo how’. . Lo is impossible precisely in those cases where the verb of speech seems to only select for speech act dependents. Plann (1982) suggested that the verbs that select a double complementizer/quotative dependent are the same which can introduce quotations. Interestingly, quotations can not be introduced by clitic lo: (i)
Juan (??lo) dijo: “cuándo venís?” ‘Juan cl said: “when are you coming?”’
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
b. ?Que cuándo íbamos a reunirnos, lo dijo él that when we-would gather, cl he-said he ‘When we would finally gather, he said it’
The choice between así and lo does not only reflect the nature of the dependent: it is also associated to different aspectual structures. Verbs of saying can denote an aspectually complex eventuality, projecting both a process and a resultant state (in the sense of Pustejovsky 1991; Tenny 1994, 2000; Levin & Rappaport 1998; Borer 2005 and many others). The resultant state, which delimits the complex event, can be explicitly measured by prepositional phrases headed by hasta “till” and locative en “in”: (45) a.
Juan dijo hasta la saciedad que no le gustaba esa solución Juan said till exhaustion that neg cl he liked that solution ‘Juan said to exhaustion8 that he didn’t like that solution’
b. Juan dijo en (muy) pocas palabras que no le gustaba esa solución Juan said in very few words that neg cl he-liked that solution ‘Juan said in very few words that he didn’t like that solution’ c.
Juan dijo en parte que no le gustaba esa solución Juan said in part that neg cl like that soluti ‘Juan said in part that he didn’t like that solution’
PPs like hasta la saciedad, en pocas palabras and en parte are incompatible with a durative adverbial phrase such as durante horas “for hours”: (46) Juan dijo en pocas palabras/en parte que no le gustaba (* durante horas) Juan said in few words/in part that neg cl he-liked for hours
Verbs of saying also license restitutive again, which according to Tenny (2000) modifies a resultant state. Restitutive again, unlike non restitutive again, can be
. “Exhaustion” here is interpreted not as the subject’s exhaustion (he became exhausted by repeating his discontent), but as the exhaustion of the saying event: no further event of expressing his disagreement can be performed. Unlike other hasta-PPs, hasta la saciedad here can not be topicalized:
(i) *Hasta la saciedad, Juan dijo que … Till exhaustion, Juan said that …
This should be related to the following similar contrast in English:
(ii) a. He will bore them to death b. *To death, he will bore them
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informally paraphrased by “two times”. The difference between the two readings of again naturally arises with an indefinite object: (47) a.
Otra vez, Juan dijo algo again, Juan said something
b. Juan dijo algo otra vez Juan said omething again
Whereas (47b) can mean that Juan said one same thing twice; (47a) only means that Juan spoke again. The possibility of measuring or modifying a resultant state is not indifferent to the así/lo alternation: only the presence of a D-clitic lo licenses a resultant state that can be measured. Bare asi complements dont: (48) a.
(*Así) dijo (*así) hasta la saciedad, que … (thus) he-said (thus) to exhaustion, that …
b. (??Así) dijo (??así) en pocas palabras, que … (thus) he-said (thus) in few words, that … c.
(*Así) escribió otra vez, que … (thus) he-wrote again, que …
(49) a.
Lo dijo hasta la saciedad cl he-said to exhaustion
b. Lo dijo en pocas palabras cl he-said in few words c.
Lo dijo otra vez cl he-said again
If quotative dependents, which are anaphorically referred to by manner demonstratives, are not regular objects but manner dependents, we expect measuring the saying event to be impossible in quotative constructions. The prediction is borne out: (50) a.
Tu padre dijo hasta la saciedad quién era esa persona your father said to exhaustion who was that person
b. Tu padre dijo (??hasta la saciedad) que quién era esa persona your father said to the exhaustion that who was that person ‘Your father said to exhaustion: “who is that person?”’ (51) a.
Tu padre dijo en parte/en muy pocas palabras quiénes iban a venir your father said in part/in very few words who were coming ‘Your father said in part/in very few words who were going to come’
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
b. Tu padre dijo (*en parte/en muy pocas palabras) que quienes iban a venir ‘Your father said in part/in very few words: “who are coming?”’
We can summarize our findings as follows: verbs of speech can denote aspectually complex or simplex events. Complex events contain a resultant state, and have propositional dependents which can only be referred to by a determiner clitic. Simplex events are bare processes, and have quotative dependents which can only be referred to through asi “thus”, a manner demonstrative. If the tacit verb of speech is a quotative verb that frames quotative dependents, we expect it to behave as a simplex verb of saying. That this is so is shown by the sharp ungrammaticality of those cases where we try to delimit the speech eventuality: (52) a.
Ayer tu padre (*en parte) que no pensaba asistir yesterday your father in part that neg think attend (lit) ‘Yesterday your father that he was not thinking of attending’
b. Ayer tu padre (*hasta la saciedad) que se aburría yesterday your father to exhaustion that cl be-bored (lit) ‘Yesterday your father to exhaustion that he was bored’ c.
Ayer tu padre (*en muy pocas palabras) que estaba decepcionado yesterday your father in very few words that he-was upset (lit) ‘Yesterday your father in very few words that he was upset’
Overt modification of the tacit speech eventuality is otherwise possible. Modifiers of process subevents are perfectly admissible: (53) a. Ya verás, tu padre mañana a voz en grito que no quiere ir you’ll see, your father tomorrow shouting that neg wants to-go (lit) ‘You’ll see, your father tomorrow in a shouting manner that he does not want to go’ b. (Handing you the phone:)
Tu padre en vasco/medio afónico que vayamos your father in Basque/half-voiceless that we should-go-there ‘Your father says in Basque/half-voiceless that we should go there’
The tacit speech eventuality in Spanish quotative constructions is therefore a bare process verb, with no inner resultant state, and with a manner component that is occupied by the quotative dependent. As Amberber (1996a,b) suggests for Amharic quotatives, the quotative verb comes very close to an unergative verb of communication such as hablar “speak/talk”. Unergative verbs do not, by themselves, license resultant states (Hale & Keyser 1993; Levin & Rappaport 1998; Tenny 2000; Ritter & Rosen 1998, among many others), do not support
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measures of the type mentioned,9 and use a manner anaphor to refer to their dependent: (54) a. *Juan habló en parte Juan spoke in part b. *Juan habló en pocas palabras Juan spoke in few words c.
Juan (*lo) habló así Juan cl spoke thus
4. The quotative dependent 4.1 Attributive and modifying bare clauses in Spanish At first glance, the quotative dependent does not appear in the appropriate form to be anaphorically referred to by a manner demonstrative in Spanish: it is not a prepositional, participial, gerundive or adverbial phrase. The unexpected manner reading associated to the quotative dependents, however, is not peculiar to them: similar readings are well-attested in Spanish for que-clauses in modifying functions (see Alvarez 1999; Demonte & Masullo 1999): (55) a.
Juan hablaba [que no callaba] Juan spoke that neg shut-up-past ‘Juan spoke in such a way that he wouldn’t shut up’
b. Juan llegó a la meta [que no se tenía en pie] Juan arrived to the goal-line that neg cl stand up ‘Juan arrived to the goal-line in such a way that he would not stand up by himself ’
. Unlike with decir “say” or the tacit quotative verb, hasta la saciedad can combine with hablar “speak”: (i)
Juan habló hasta la saciedad Juan spoke to exhaustion
However, unlike with decir, the PP-modifier here is compatible with durative adverbs:
(ii)
Juan habló hasta la saciedad durante horas
This suggests that, despite appearances, the PP does not delimit the event in this case. It should be taken as modifying the process of speaking. In this sense, it just an intensifier, as a lot in English “he talked a lot (for hours)”.
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
c.
Juan canta [que da gusto] Juan sings that it-gives pleasure ‘Juan sings in a very pleasurable way’
The manner-CPs10 can be taken to modify different parts of the events involved: with unaccusatives, they can modify a resultant state (56); with unergatives, they must modify the process part, as shown by the contrast between (57a,b): (56) Juan llegó a la meta que tuvo que entrar en el botiquín Juan arrived to the line that he-had to come inside the first-help box ‘Juan arrived in such a state that he had to come to the first-help box’ (57) a. *Juan habló que perdió la voz Juan spoke that he lost his voice ‘Juan spoke in such a way that he lost his voice’ b. Juan habló que no calló Juan spoke that neg he-shut-up ‘Juan spoke in such a way that he would not shut up’
Since quotative verbs are unergative verbs, sentences corresponding to structures like (57b) should be possible, and they are: (58) Tu padre otra vez que no calla Your father once again that neg shuts-up (Intended meaning) ‘Your father is talking once again in such a way that he will not shut up’
In (58) the CP-dependent does not express what the subject (tu padre) says, but how he does it, modifying the speech eventuality as it unfolds in time. Another typical occurrence context for que-clauses is as attributive predicates (Demonte & Masullo 1999): (59) a.
Tu padre está que no puede más your father is that neg he-can more ‘Your father is in such a state that he can’t do more’
b. Tu padre anda que no puede más your father walks that neg they-can more ‘Your father is usually in such state that he can’t do more’
In this case, the dependents can embed features of (semi-)direct speech: (60) Tu padre está/anda que cuándo venís your father is/walks that when you-are-coming ‘Your father is saying: “when are you coming?”’ . By CP, I mean Complementizer Phrase. A syntactic phrase headed by the Comnplementizer que in Spanish.
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But (60) looks identical to our full quotative constructions. It is then natural to ask whether the structure in (59), involving an attributive CP-predicate, and the full quotative constructions in (60) share the same structure. The question extends to modifying CPs too, which seem to involve some type of manner modification, reminiscent of manner así. 4.2 Th e traditional view: Attributive and modifying CPs as degree clauses Alvarez (1999), summarizing the traditional descriptive work on the subject, concludes that the structures in (59) are consecutive modifiers from which an antecedent term of degree has been omitted: (61) Tu padre está (tan mal/tan cansado) que no puede más your father is so ill/so tired that neg he-can more ‘Your father is so ill/tired that he can’t do more’
Under this view, que is a term of relation, linking a degree expression and a proposition. Although the traditional view provides a simple account of the meaning of bare CPs in attributive and modifying functions, it cannot be right. It masks important differences between the structures headed by an overt degree expression and those without. One important difference concerns the following special restriction applying to bare consecutive clauses: they only target aspectual entities. In the case of unergative predicates, modifying CPs are bound to modify the process denoted by the verb. This is not a general property of fully fledged consecutive clauses, which can modify several types of entities. Consider for instance the following contrast: (62) a. *Tu padre habló que fue inoportuno your father talked that it-was inappropriate ‘Your father talked in such a way that it was inappropriate’ b. Tu padre habló tanto que fue inoportuno your father talked so much that it-was inappropriate ‘Your father talked so much that it was inappropriate’
With an overt degree predicate (62b), the consecutive clause can modify the proposition: it is the fact of talking so much which makes it inappropriate. Nothing like that is possible with bare CP-clauses (62a). Bare modifying clauses therefore seem to be bound to a subset of the modifying possibilities allotted to consecutive clauses. The modifying scope of que-clauses is restricted to the aspectual domain. A similar argument can be constructed for bare attributive CPs, as opposed to those headed by an overt degree term: (63) a.
Tu padre estaba tan bebido que era una molestia Your father was so drunk that he-was a nuisance ‘Your father was so drunk that he was a nuisance’
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
b. *Tu padre estaba que era una molestia Your father was that he-was a nuisance
No matter how heavy the context is, (63b) is impossible. It has been noted that attributive CPs can only modify situations. They occur as predicates in stage-level predications (Carlson 1977), e.g., predicate relations which attribute transitory properties, and can be located in a place and a time. Alarcos (1994), for instance, observes that CP-predicates can not follow the copula ser “be” in Spanish, despite the fact that ser introduces a predicate and CPs seem to be able to occur in predicate position: (64) a. *Pedro es que todos lo admiran Pedro is that everyone cl admire ‘Pedro is such that everyone admires him’ b. *Pedro es que llama la atención Pedro is that he-calls the attention ‘Pedro is such that he calls the attention of others’
(64) contrasts minimally with (65), involving the locative copula estar: (65) Pedro está que llama la atención Pedro is-loc that he-calls the attention ‘Pedro is in such a state that he calls the attention of others’
The reason why (63b) is impossible then is that it does not easily yield to a stagelevel interpretation, and this is so because the CP contains the individual level predicate ser una molestia “be a nuisance”. (63b) is thus analogous to (66), which is bad for the same reason: (66) *Pedro está inteligente Pedro is-loc intelligent
In (63a) on the other hand, the CP predicate follows the degree phrase tan bebido “so drunk”, and this is a transitory property. If the structure in (63b) involved a tacit degree operator comparable to the overt one in (63a), it would not be clear why it is impossible. I conclude that que-clauses in modifying and attributive functions are just that, bare CPs headed by the Complementizer que.
4.3 Attributive CPs As noted by Demonte and Masullo (1999), if attributive que-clauses do not involve a tacit degree quantifier, they pose an immediate syntactic problem. There is substantial evidence in Spanish that CPs are nominal structures (see recently Picallo
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2002). But nominal attributive predicates with estar/andar are impossible in Spanish: (67) *Tu padre está/anda un loco Your father is/usually-is a fool
Plainly, we need to think of a different way to combine the bare CP to the rest of the structure. Baker (2003) argues that noun phrases can not be predicates by themselves. In order to be predicates, they need extra functional structure. He calls the relevant functional head that turns Noun Phrases into predicates Predicate. The Predicate head is overtly expressed in many languages in the form of a copula (Baker 2003: 39–46), and some copulas can be specific to stage-level predications. Baker also notes (2003: 314–316) that stage-level predications can be constructed in a more complex way. This way requires a verb of location or a postural verb, followed by an adposition. Stassen’s typological work (1997) confirms that this is the normal situation crosslinguistically. Such structures involve a supporting verb followed by an adpositional phrase. Some varieties of Spanish seem to present exactly this configuration for attributive CP predications (examples from the internet): (68) a. …andaba en que ya no sabía si estaba viviendo realmente … I-walked in that already neg I-knew if I-was living in-reality ‘I was in such a state that I didn’t know whether I was living in reality or not’ b. Pero estaba yo en que me quedé helada con la perspectiva de but was I in that cl become frozen with the perspective of
sonreirles … smiling-them
“But I was in such a state that I became frozen at the prospect of having to smile to them”
If adpositional structures represent the most common situation crosslinguistically for the construction of a stage-level predication, and closely related varieties of Spanish show it overtly, it is natural to conclude that even in those varieties that do not show overt prepositions, a tacit preposition is nevertheless present (see also sections 4.5 and 4.6). I will therefore propose the following syntactic structure for attributive CP-clauses: (69) Subject [VP BELOC [PP P0 [CP que …]]]
4.4 Modifying CPs Demonte and Masullo (1999) treat modifying CPs as adjunct secondary predicates. Adjunct secondary predicates can be nominal in Spanish, as shown below:
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
(70) Juan volvió de las olimpiadas [NP medalla de oro] Juan came-back from the olimpic-games medal of gold ‘Juan came back from the Olimpic Games with a gold medal’
As secondary predicates, modifying CPs are not obligatory. Demonte and Masullo note that in the case of unergative predicates, modifying CPs are always subject oriented, and they modify the process denoted by verb. In this context, queclauses come to be interpreted as manner-modifiers (Demonte & Masullo 1999: 2476–2480): (71) a.
El enfermo habló que parecía un moribundo the patient spoke that he-looked a dying-person ‘The patient spoke in a way that he looked like a dying-person’
b. El animal corrió que parecía un cohete The animal run that it-looked a rocket ‘The animal ran in such a way that he looked like a rocket’
The occurrence of bare que-clauses as secondary predicates would thus be on a par with the use of Noun Phrases in the same function (cf. (70)). However, the availability of nominal phrases as secondary predicates is very limited: nominal secondary predicates can only show up in a subset of the contexts where CP modifiers are possible. Nominal predicates for instance, are impossible in contexts like those of (71): (72) a. *El enfermo habló un moribundo The patient spoke a dying-person ‘The patient spoke like a dying person’ b. *El animal corrió un cohete The animal ran a rocket ‘The animal ran like a rocket’
It thus seems that modifying CPs give rise to the same syntactic problem presented by attributive CPs: somehow, they don’t show the same distribution as Noun Phrases. Interestingly however, the ability of Noun Phrases to occur in contexts of secondary predication greatly increases if they involve some internal time-modifying adverb. Consider for instance the following contrast: (73) a. *Pedro habló ante la prensa premio nobel Pedro spoke before the press prize nobel ‘Pedro spoke in front of the press as a Nobel Prize’ b. Pedro habló ante la prensa ya premio nobel Pedro spoke before the press already prize nobel ‘Pedro spoke in front of the press already as a Nobel Prize’
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The presence of the temporal modifier ya “already” makes the secondary predicate available. In those cases, the temporal modifier ya must be adjacent to the Noun Phrase, suggesting it is part of an expanded nominal structure: (74) *Pedro ya habló ante la prensa premio nobel Pedro already spoke before the press prize nobel
The connection of this fact with the freer distribution of modifying CPs is clear: the latter are finite structures, and as such, involve a temporal projection. For some reason, secondary nominal predication with unergative verbs is easier if the nominal predicate contains some time-related dimension. I will not pursue this matter further, and follow Demonte and Masullo’s idea (1999) that modifying CPs are secondary predicates. Unlike Demonte and Masullo, however, I will not take modifying CP-clauses to be adjuncts. Unlike adjuncts, which can occur in more than one position in the clause structure, bare CP-clauses (and nominal secondary predicates) show aspectual restrictions. Providing an explanation for those restrictions is the aim of the next section. 4.5 A topological approach to aspectual and temporal relations It is very common for aspectual relations to be expressed by topological or spatial notions, and those are typically conveyed (though not only) by adpositions. Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria (2000, 2002, 2004) develop an analysis of aspectual and temporal relations in which tenses and aspects are spatiotemporal predicates (also Stowell 1996; Zagona 2003). Those predicates establish topological relations -of precedence, inclusion and subsequence- between two arguments that denote time intervals. The main ingredients of Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria’s topological approach to temporal-aspectual systems are two: a set of given temporal intervals; and a set of relations between them. The temporal intervals are drawn from Klein’s system (1994): the Utterance Time (UT-T), the Time of the Assertion (AS-T) (the portion of time about which an assertion is made) and the Event Time (EV-T). Tenses and aspects order those intervals by means of a limited set of relations. Tense orders the temporal intervals denoted by the UT-T and the AS-T, whereas aspect orders the temporal intervals denoted by AS-T and EV-T. As an illustration of how their system works, consider their analysis of the present progressive in English (69): (75) John is reading Invisible Man
The temporal syntax of the present progressive in English consists of the following predicative structure:
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish TP
(76) UT-T
T′ T° IN/AT
ASP-P AS-T
ASP′
ASP° WITHIN EV-T
VP VP
The progressive is a spatiotemporal predicate with a meaning akin to within. It establishes an inclusion relation between its two arguments: it orders the Assertion Time (the temporal portion of the event time which constitutes the object of assertion) inside the Event Time (the total reading time). It thus focalises a subinterval of the Event Time, as shown in the schema below: (77) EV-T …[…..[…………]……]… AS-T
The progressive focalises a phase in the internal temporal structure of the eventuality. The interval so captured, does not include the borders of the eventuality (its inception and end) and so directly yields the unbound interpretation of the progressive. Finally (75) describes a present eventuality because the utterance time is in (not after or before) the assertion time (the time interval about which an assertion is made). The intervals which are ordered by means of aspectual and temporal heads are semantically structured as the figure and the ground of the relation (Talmy 1983). The Specifier of the aspectual or temporal head is mapped as the figure of the topological relation, while the complement of that head is mapped as the ground. Hale (1986) argues that spatiotemporal relations can be uniformly defined in terms of an opposition: the coincidence between the figure and the ground is either central, or non central. A predicate which expresses central coincidence specifies that the situation, the path, the positioning of the figure (F) centrally coincides with the ground (G). A predicate of non-central coincidence specifies that the localisation, path or positioning of F does not centrally coincide with G. The latter predicates divide in (at least) two different types: the [–central; +centripete] predicates place the figure before the ground, or indicate that the path that F follows goes towards G.
Ricardo Etxepare
The [–central; +centrifugue] predicates indicate that the localisation of F is after G, or that the path followed by F departs or comes from G. Adpositions are the typologically privileged means to express those topological notions, so it is not surprising to find them once and again across languages in the aspectual/temporal realm (see a.o. Bybee, Pagliuca & Perkins 1994). CP-modifiers operate in the aspectual domain. From an aspectual point of view, they could be represented as one of the terms in a binary relation: the one established between the main process event and the event denoted by the modifying clause. In a sentence like (78) the event represented by (not) shutting up takes up the same temporal space occupied by the process event of talking: (78) Tu padre habló que no calló your father talked that neg he-shut up ‘Your father talked in such a way that he would not shut up’
The two eventualities thus seem to be related by a predicate with the properties of central coincidence. Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria (2004) note that prepositions of central coincidence, as the unmarked case in the system, tend to be phonologically unrealized. I conclude that the relevant preposition underlying the relation between the main event and the modifying-clause is a null central coincidence preposition. This preposition takes the que-clause as its complement and the Assertion Time as its specifier. A sentence like (78) therefore, will be syntactically represented as (79): (79) …[PP [Assertion Time] [ P0 [CP que [IP …]]] Asp0 …[VP V0]]]
The structure in (79) immediately accounts for an important property of bare CP-modifiers: their invariable clause-final position, which follows from being a modifier of an aspectual argument. As shown by Suñer (1994), the verb in Spanish raises to T in finite clauses. Aspectual modifiers therefore must appear postverbally. The structure also provides us with the means to account for another intriguing syntactic property of consecutive clauses: they cannot be conjoined (80). (80) Tu padre habla que no calla (*y que aburre a los demás) your father talks that neg shuts-up and that he-bores to the rest ‘Your father talks in such a way that he will not shut up and that he bores the rest of the people’
If the merging of the null P with CP is automatically followed by conflation (copying of the phonetic matrix of the selected head, Hale & Keyser 2002), and conflation requires a head-head relation, then we can explain why degree-clauses here can not be conjoined. The coordination of the degree clause under a Boolean projection (BP) breaks up the head adjacency configuration between the null preposition and que required for conflation, and the null preposition can not be phonologically supported:
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish PP
(81) P Ø
BP CP1 Que...
B′ B y
CP2 Que...
4.6 The quotative dependents The syntactic structures in (69) and (79) do not yet provide the right configuration for quotative dependents such as (82a,b): (82) a.
Tu padre que no viene Your father that neg he-comes ‘Your father says that he is not coming’
b. Tu padre está que cuándo venís your father is-loc that when you-are-coming ‘Your father keeps asking when you are coming’
The structures above are insufficient on one account at least: there is no place in them for a saying. The presence of a saying imposes certain restrictions in quotative dependents: attributive CPs are insensitive to the kind of aspectual auxiliary dominating them, except when they involve a speech eventuality (cf. section 2.5): (83) a.
Pedro acabó que no se tenía en pie Pedro finished that neg cl stand-up ‘Pedro finished in such a state that he would not stand up’
b. *Pedro acabó que cuándo vamos Pedro finished that when are-we-going
Consider also the following cases: (84) a.
Tu siempre con que es demasiado tarde para comer you always with that it-is too late for lunch ‘You always with this story that it is too late for lunch’
b. Tu siempre con que cuándo vamos you always with that when we are going ‘You always with this question of when we are going’ c.
Tu siempre con que qué sano es hacer footing you always with that how healthy is to do jogging ‘You always with this exclamation that how healthy is to go for a jog’
Ricardo Etxepare
d. Tu siempre con que no vaya allí you always with that neg I-go-subj there ‘You always with this order that I should not go there’
The structures in (84) show a central preposition preceding a CP. Unlike the attributive CP dependents of (68), where the preposition was en “in”, here the preposition is con “with”. The presence of con has an interesting effect in the following clauses: they are necessarily interpreted as quotative. In other words, con necessarily requires a saying as part of the interpretation of its clausal dependent. In order for the utterance of (84a) to be faithful to the facts, for instance, the subject of the clause must say (and not just believe or think), that it is too late for lunch. Con is impossible with manner modifiers not expressing the content of a speech event: (85) Juan hablaba (*con) que no callaba Juan spoke with that neg he-shut-up ‘Juan spoke in such a way that he would not shut up’
And CP dependents preceded by con show the same quantificational restrictions as simple quotatives: (86) *Tu nunca/rara vez/alguna vez con que cuando voy you never/rarely/sometime with that when I-am-going ‘You are always with this saying: “when are you going?”’
Some varieties of Spanish show the central preposition overtly with unergative verbs of communication (examples from the internet): (87) a. De qué rayos habla con que la evolución no es correcta? of what the-hell she-speaks with that the evolution neg is correct? ‘What the hell is she talking about saying that the theory of evolution is not correct?’ b.
J. L. M. . . . me llamó con que le había fallado E. D. … J.L.M. cl called with that cl she-had failed E.D. ‘J.L.M. called me saying that E. D. had failed him’
Unlike simple quotative dependents, which show a tacit preposition, the cases with overt con cannot represent a punctual speech event: they convey the idea that the speech eventuality repeats itself very often. Consider the following situation, in which a punctual reading is enforced: (88) (Context: Jon has just called suggesting going out for a drink. A holds up the phone and asks his/her partner) A: Jon (*con) que si queremos salir a tomar algo. Qué le digo? Jon with that if we want to go out for a drink What should I say ‘Jon is asking whether we feel like going out for a drink. What should I say?’
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
Note that in the absence of an overt aspectual auxiliary, con que dependents require modification by a quantifier like siempre “always”, expressing frequence or habituality. It thus seems that the overt preposition differs from the null one in its aspectual properties: it expresses habitual or frequentative aspect. Let me therefore conclude that the aspectual preposition has two possible realizations: a null one, expressing central coincidence (and operative also in manner-CP constructions), and an overt one, expressing central coincidence and habituality/frequence, which only occurs with quotative dependents. On the other hand, the existence of structures like (84), common to all Spanish varieties, support the syntactic analysis provided in (69) and (79). 4.7 The saying event The prepositional aspectual heads are dyadic predicates. Following Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria’s work, the aspectual predicates express a relation between the assertion time (that portion of the event which constitutes the object of assertion) and the event time. The event in this case is a saying event. This saying must be somehow represented in the syntactic structure of quotative constructions, since it is required by them. I will take que to introduce a predication relation: one that relates a CP with, possibly, features of main clauses (semi-direct speech), and a nominal predicate (see Etxepare, to appear, for a detailed discussion). This nominal predicate is an indefinite description, whose only lexical feature is [linguistic communication], and which is interpreted as an existential quantification over utterances (Lahiri 2002). As in the case of degree-clauses, the result is a complex noun phrase construction, à la Stowell (1981): (89) …[CP que [SC CP DPLC]
The predicate raises to Spec of CP: (90) …[CP DPLC que [SC CP (DPLC)]
Yielding the complex noun phrase 〈〈a saying that CP〉〉 (see also Kayne 1994). This is semantically an event description, and as such can enter into aspectual relations via aspectual prepositions. The central coincidence prepositions Pnull and con “with” relate the time of the matrix event to the saying event embedded in the CP-dependent, and express that they occupy the same temporal space: (91) …Pcentral [CP DPLC que [SC CP (DPLC)]
This aspectual projection is selected by the locative verb estar: (92) …[VP Subject BE [PP Pcentral [CP DPLC que [SC CP (DPLC)]]]]
Ricardo Etxepare
The structure in (92) is exemplified by sentences like (93): (93) Tu padre está (con) que cuándo vamos Your father is-loc with that when we-go “Your father keeps asking: when are you coming?”
The prepositional phrase can also merge with an aspectual argument, that we called Assertion Time, and which following Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria (2000, 2004) is realized as a nominal argument of the Aspect Phrase: (94) …[PP [Assertion Time] [ P0 [CP DPLC que [SC [IP …] (DPLC)]]] Asp0 …[VP V0]]]
In (94), the preposition relates the time of the assertion to the time of the saying event in the CP-dependent, and the structure makes explicit that the two temporal entities centrally coincide. (94) is the syntactic structure corresponding to an unergative quotative verb like the one in (95) (cf.): (95) Tu educadamente (con) que el tabaco es tuyo You politely with that the tobacco is yours ‘You say/keep saying politely that the tobacco is yours’
It is also the syntactic structure of the cases in (87), which involve an overt unergative verb of communication and a quotative dependent. 5. A note on the anchoring of the quotative construction An aspect of auxiliary-less quotative constructions that becomes manifest to anyone working on these cases is their dependency on discourse particles, vocatives or locational adverbs. Something like (16a), repeated below, becomes extremely odd without the presence of aquí “here”: (96) *(Aquí) todo dios que cuándo les van a subir el sueldo here everyone that when cl they-are-going to raise the salary ‘Everyone is saying: “When are they going to give us a raise?”
In the same way, discourse particles like oye “hey” or vocatives like Juan below seem to be necessary in the absence of any overt event participant: (97) *(Oye/Juan), que el Barça ha ganado la Champions Listen/Juan that the Barça has won the Champions League ‘Hey/Juan, there’s a saying that Barça has won the Champions League’
The conditions under which the different options are chosen are not yet clear, but they all seem to be related to the necessity of anchoring the report in the discourse. This anchoring requirement disappears with full fledged quotative constructions containing finite auxiliaries:
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
(97) Todo dios anda que cuándo les van a subir el sueldo everyone walks that when cl they-are-going to raise the pay ‘Everyone is continuously saying: “when are they going to give us a raise?”’
Anchoring particles are therefore obligatory in cases when Tense is absent. Normally, Tense is the means by which an event is anchored to the utterance or some other salient point (the notion of Anchoring Condition, Enç 1987). But minimal quotatives may not have Tense (that is, they may contain no Tense morphology or show no temporal adverbial modifiers). How is anchoring effected in those cases? Ritter and Wiltschko (2005) have recently asked that question in the context of languages which seem not to have grammatical Tense. Their answer is that in those languages anchoring proceeds either spatially, via the syntactic category Location, or via speech act participants. The categories involved, as one can see, are very similar to the anchoring elements in the absence of Tense in Spanish quotatives: the vocative and the discourse particle oye (literally “listen”) are hearer-oriented elements, and belong in the structure of the utterance, rather than in the reported event.11 On the other hand aquí “here” is a locative demonstrative. Wiltschko and Ritter claim that in languages lacking grammatical Tense, the event is anchored in the utterance by expressing where it happened, instead of when it happened. Anchoring is driven by a category Location, which, following Demirdache and Uribe-Etxebarria (2000) they take to be a dyadic predicate expressing [+/– central coincidence]. This dyadic predicate combines the utterance location and the event location in a predication relation. A sentence can assert that the event location coincides with the utterance location (the event happens here) or that the event does not coincide with the utterance location (the event happens there): DiscP
(94) UttPart
Disc′
Disc0 VP [+/− coincide] EventPart
. For instance, they are exempt from the truth functional evaluation of the sentence, unlike other addressee-oriented elements such as second person pronouns.
Ricardo Etxepare
The presence of locative adverbials, like the obligatory aquí “here” in (91) signals the presence of a syntactic projection whose function is anchoring the reporting event in the utterance: (95) [LocP aquí Loc …[VP Subject BE [PP Pcentral [CP DPLC que [SC CP (DPLC)]]]]]
Anchoring can also be driven via speech act participants. Wiltschko and Ritter claim that this is the case in Blackfoot. In Blackfoot event anchoring proceeds via participants of the utterance and the event. In this anchoring system, it is asserted who participated in the event with respect to who participated in the utterance. This relation is achieved by means of a different predicate of (non-) coincidence, that they call Discourse. If Discourse is a predicate of coincidence, the event participant is asserted to coincide with the utterance participant (e.g., actor = speaker). If Discourse is a predicate of non-coincidence then the event participant is asserted to not coincide with the utterance participant: (96)
DiscP UttPart
Disc′
Disc0 VP [+/− coincide] EventPart
The choice of the anchoring participant in Blackfoot is driven by person morphology and theme marker morphology. The combination of those two morphological parameters gives rise to a rich and complex anchoring system. Spanish does not possess a theme-marker system, and in the cases we are considering, person morphology is absent. The anchoring system therefore must be much simpler. Let me advance the hypothesis that in Spanish, the anchoring speech act participant is always the speaker. Oye is the head of the Discourse Phrase. As it does not represent the speaker (it is a hearer oriented particle) it expresses a relation of non-coincidence between the event participants and the speech act participants: (97)
DiscP UttPart
Disc′
Disc0 oye [− coincidence]
VP EventParticipant
On quotative constructions in Iberian Spanish
This hypothesis is supported by a peculiar restriction of quotative constructions in Spanish: they don’t admit self-reports with first person event participants (that is, cases where the speaker/actor and the utterer are the same person). (98) *Juan/oye, yo que cuándo vamos Juan/hey I that when we-are-going ‘I say: I am not going’
(98) contrasts sharply with the acceptable complete quotative construction: (99) Yo (siempre) estoy que cuándo vamos I always am that when we-are-going ‘I am (always) saying: when are we going?’
And with those quotative constructions which show overt temporal modification: (100) Ya verás, yo *( mañana) que cuándo vamos you’ll see, I tomorrow that when we-are-going ‘You’ll see, tomorrow I will be saying: “when we are going?”’
In both (99) and (100) anchoring is effected by Tense, and the discourse head does not need to be projected.
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Bulgarian adversative connectives Conjunctions or discourse markers? Grace E. Fielder
University of Arizona
This paper examines three adversative connectives in Bulgarian, /no/, /ama/, and /ami/, all of which correspond to English “but”, and are described as conjunctions, particles, and/or discourse markers. Rather than homonymous lexical items that reflect a binary opposition between conjunctions and discourse markers, these connectives are better conceptualized as operating along a continuum. A quantitative and qualitative analysis of corpora shows that they operate on multiple levels of linguistic structure: syntactic, semantic, and discourse-pragmatic. Systematic correlations are found between the function of connectives and a variety of factors such as initial versus medial position, genre, and register, as well as interactional factors such as politeness and power relations.
1. Introduction The distinction between conjunctions (sŭjuz) and particles (častica) is well established in traditional treatments of Bulgarian grammar (see for example, GSBKE, SBE, Hauge 1999). Conjunctions are typically described as invariant, i.e., non-inflecting, function (versus content) words that link clauses in a simple sentence or connect simple sentences in a complex sentence. Particles are also invariant function words that can modify words or utterances. The term discourse marker will be used here as a designation that includes a variety of linguistic items such as connectives, particles and interjections. Schiffrin (1987: 31), for example, defines discourse markers as “textual coordinates of talk that bracket units of it”. Implicit in this division between these two categories of words is that conjunctions operate on the syntactic level, while discourse markers operate on the semantic and/or discourse level. A further distinction claimed (see for example, Hauge 1999; Georgakopoulou & Goutsos 1998) is the correlation between sentence-medial position for conjunctions, since they link clauses, and sentenceinitial position for discourse markers, since they link larger units (the broader category of particles, by contrast, does not have positional constraints). In practice,
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however, as will be demonstrated below the distinction between the two is not always an obvious one. This paper will examine three adversative conjunction/discourse markers in Bulgarian, all of which correspond to English “but”. According to the Bulgarian Academy Dictionary (RBE), no is classified as a conjunction (sŭjuz), amá is classified as both a conjunction and a particle (častica), and thus has two separate citations: amá1 and ámá2, and finally amí1/2 is classified as a conjunction, a particle, and sometimes even as an interjection (meždumetie) (see for example, Vrina 1999). This paper will demonstrate that it is in fact quite difficult to distinguish between instances of these words as conjunctions versus discourse markers which suggests that conceptualizing them as members of either one category or the other is perhaps inappropriate here. The term connective (used, for example, by Georgakopoulou & Goutsos 1998) will be preferred because it allows us to subsume both conjunction and discourse marker in a single grouping (which conveniently allows us to avoid the problem of homonymy) and at the same time still adequately describe what these words do: they connect. It will be argued that what they connect and how they connect varies according to the context, both linguistic and extra-linguistic. Thus, these individual connectives can be plotted along a continuum of connectivity that operates on multiple levels of linguistic structure: syntactic, semantic, and discourse-pragmatic. The connectives in question then are not homonymous lexical items representing a binary opposition between conjunctions and discourse markers, but rather multifunctional polysemous connectives.
2. Bulgarian adversative connectives There are a number of interesting questions that arise in a comprehensive treatment of these particular connectives, not all of which can be addressed here. Specific to Bulgarian are the issues of what is the nature of the difference between the adversative connectives no, amá1 and amí, and of how to distinguish between amá1 and ámá2, and amí1 and amí2, that is, whether a principled distinction be
. For the remainder of this discussion, the more generalized form amá with final stress will be used. The particle ámá2 as opposed to the conjunction amá1 may have either initial or final stress, although some dictionaries cite the particle form only with initial stress. Whether initial stress actually distinguishes the particle from the conjunction, or merely reflects dialectal or idiolectal variation is not clear. A further complication is the fact that amá is sometimes reduced to ma, and thus overlaps with an apparently separate lexeme ma used as a form of address to women (although see Joseph 1997 where he suggests the concept of constellation could account for such convergences).
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
made between the conjunction and the discourse marker. With regard to the first issue, there is a general consensus (GSBKE 1983; Hauge 1999; Vrina 1999) that at least one of the differences between no, amá and amí is that no belongs to the literary standard language, whereas amá and amí belong to the sphere of spoken or colloquial language (razgovorna reč). With regard to the second issue, Hauge (1999: 185) asserts that such pragmatic particles are “not connected to meaning and reference, but rather to the effect on the state of things that that utterances have or are expected to have.” This definition is consistent with the notion of instructional or procedural semantics (see for example, Blakemore 1992, 2002). Furthermore, he also draws a correlation between position and function such that “amí and amá are both usually found in utterance-initial position” (Hauge 1999: 186). However, examples (1) and (2) taken from a corpus of contemporary spoken Bulgarian demonstrate unambiguously that no, amá and amí all occur in the colloquial language, and may even be used by the same speaker in the same chunk of discourse.
(1) I: //da/ razbiram go no ni mogŭ da govorŭ i mi se smejŭt č-i ni mogŭ/ no moži bi as taka malko kato prifŭrcunina/ n’e č-i sŭm ot sofijŭ/ ama n’akak si mi e niudobno (Aleksova 3.3) zaštoto as iskam kato prav’ŭ n’ešto da go prav’ŭ kakto tr’abva//
‘//yes/ I understand it no I can’t speak [Rhodope dialect] and they make fun of me because I can’t/ no perhaps I’m a bit of a snob/ not because I’m from Sofia/ ama it’s somehow uncomfortable for me because when I do something I want to do it the way it should be done//’
(2) Ž: //e/ navsjakŭd’e ima takiva/ no tam druk tam pŭk imŭt id’in način da gi kastrirŭt/ i da gi unižŭt do takava stepen// bon pur orient/ pur orien/ dobŭr za orientŭ/ kakto ošti na vremito sŭ gi puskali// no siga ni gi puskŭt ami gi unižavŭt // i im kazvŭt enkapable// (Aleksova 3.3)
‘//eh// you have that sort everywhere/ no it’s different there/ it’s over there that they have a way of castrating them/ and humiliating them to a such a degree// bon pour orient/ pour orient/ good for the orient/ the same way they used to be let out back in the past// no now they aren’t let out ami they’re humiliated// and called incapable//’
Clearly, style or, more appropriately register, is not sufficient to explain the choice of no versus amá versus amí in these examples. Moreover, these examples illustrate the difficulty of applying the criterion of position consistently. The first no in example (1) and the amí in example (2) are clearly functioning as conjunctions in that they join two clauses within the same intonation unit. The second no and the amá in example (1), however, could be interpreted as a discourse markers. They follow a pause that segments the discourse and thus function as what Redeker (1990) calls hypotactic markers that connect asymmetric rather than symmetric
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units. Because this position could be considered initial, rather than medial, then both the no and amá then would appear to be operating at a higher level of the discourse than that of linking propositions in a logical adversative relation. By the same token, then, the second no in the clause that immediately precedes the amí would also have to be considered as initial, since it follows a long pause (designated by two slashes, rather than one). It would therefore be classified as a discourse marker, despite the fact that it is “officially” only a conjunction. Note, however, that Hauge, who explicitly correlates periods (which mark the beginning and end of sentences) with pauses, points out that in Bulgarian conjunctions “may still be found at the beginning of a sentence; in certain styles where periods (pauses in speech) are dispersed more liberally than usual; or when speaker B adds his own clause to that of speaker A” (1999: 226). This statement also holds true for English, of course. Dorgeloh (2004: 1766), for example, discusses the restrictions on sentence-initial use of the connective and in English and the correlation of genre, and according to Biber et al. (1999: 83–84), sentence-initial and is more frequent in conversation, where the normative prescription against such use is more likely to be violated. This paper will explore the boundaries between conjunction and discourse marker in an effort to better understand the nature of the distinction as well as question whether such a distinction is indeed a valid or useful one to make. I will follow the approach of Georgakopoulou and Goutsos (1998) in which they use both a quantitative (corpus-based) and a qualitative (discourse analytic) framework to analyze connectives in Modern Greek, including the adversative connective alá which corresponds fairly closely to the Bulgarian no. They specifically address the problem of genre and register, and it would therefore be useful to review their findings in order to set the stage for my own analysis.
3. The Greek adversative connective alá Georgakopoulou and Goutsos distinguish between conjunctions and discourse markers within the category of connectives according to their function in discourse. Conjunctions bind units at the local level (i.e., at the propositional level, or ideational level, cf. Schiffrin 1987 and 2001), while discourse markers both bind at the local level and contribute to the unfolding at the global level.2 These two functions can be observed in the use of alá in example (3).
.
See Bamberg and Marchman 1991 for the terms binding and unfolding.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
(3) A: vévea íne fríci. B: alá óso katévena ce perpatúsa apó ti mja vivlioθíci stin áli, étsi ce perpatúsa káto sto Síndaγma telíose, aftó ítane, δen iθela tiptoe álo. B: ímuna δjo vδomáδes ce káti, ce mja forá móno vríka θési sto tréno. A: alá eγó vlépo to gózmo, léo pu íne aftí i ánθropi, pos borúne káθe méra! C: δe borúne = B: eména i icojenjá mu íne sti jermanía ce zúne san da zóa. δilaδí zúne oréa alá δe vjénune. A: ‘Of course it’s awful [living in Athens].’ B: ‘alá when I used to go from one library to the other, when I’d walk past Sindagma … that was it. I didn’t have the energy for anything else.’ A: I (recently) spent about 2 weeks there, and I only managed to get a seat on the train once.’ B: ‘alá I (emphatic) look at all those people, and say what are those people doing, how can they take this every day?’ C: ‘They can’t =’ B: ‘My family live in Germany and they live a dog’s life. I mean they have a good life alá they don’t go out at all.’
The first two tokens of alá are discourse markers because they serve “the sequential function of a floor-securing device that signals the beginning of a speaker’s turn as well as a subsequent shift in orientation within the same topic (“living in a big city”)” (905–906). For Georgakopoulou and Goutsos then, alá as a discourse marker contributes to unfolding at the global level of the discourse. The third and last alá is a conjunction that operates on the propositional level, binding the two adjacent clauses together in an adversative relation. It therefore contributes to binding at the local level of the discourse. It is important to note as well that the function of alá as a discourse marker or a conjunction is directly correlated with its position in the discourse unit. In fact, Georgakopoulou and Goutsos explicitly claim that whether or not the connective is in initial, medial, or final position “is crucial for (a) distinguishing between a discourse marker and a conjunction and (b) determining the segmentational power of a discourse marker” (895). Moreover, in their analysis of four different corpora, they were able to establish a relationship between position, discourse type and genre such that alá was more likely to be in initial position (90% of tokens) in spoken narrative and while in written nonnarrative alá was more likely to be in medial position (92% of tokens) (897). Thus in spoken genres the discourse marker function of alá predominates, while in written genre its conjunctive function does. Indeed, this correlation between function and position is intuitively attractive. As already mentioned above, in standard English, discourse markers in initial position are more characteristic of the informal, colloquial register, while the written formal register proscribes the use of conjunctions in initial position in much the same way as it restricts prepositions in final position.
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4. The Bulgarian data In order to test the applicability of Georgakopoulou and Goutsas’ claims regarding position and register for adversative connectives in Bulgarian, I have selected two quite different sources for my data: Krasimira Aleksova’s corpus of contemporary spoken Bulgarian which was compiled in the 1990’s, and Aleko Konstantinov’s late nineteenth-century comic novel Baj Ganjo. Aleksova’s corpus is most useful for documenting the frequent use of amá and amí in the contemporary spoken language, as opposed to written texts and more formal speech, where it occurs more rarely, if at all. It is no surprise therefore that there are no tokens of amá or amí in the more formal speech of the 20,000-word corpus of Bulgarian parliamentary debates from 1990 transcribed by Ivanka Mavrodieva. This corpus would correspond to Georgakopoulou and Goutsos’ spoken nonnarrative corpus, but is not included in the text counts here precisely because no is used almost exclusively as the adversative connective.3 The second source, by contrast, reflects the Bulgarian language of the late 19th century and represents a very specific type of data. Written during a period of intense debate over codification and which features belonged in the standard language and which did not, Baj Ganjo derives much of its humor from the manipulation of stylistic register and deliberate exploitation of the contrast between the more standard speech of the western-educated student and the non-standard speech of the uneducated Bulgarian peasant, the character Baj Ganjo himself. Baj Ganjo thus contrasts both written and spoken language (it consists of both narrative and dialogue), as well as standard versus non-standard speech (of the students versus the Baj Ganjo character). This second corpus then is a text in which the role of style or register in the use of amá and amí versus no will be more transparent than in unrehearsed speech where frequent style shifting may occur. Thus, the parameters of my corpus-based counts differ in one major respect from those used by Georgakopoulou and Goutsos. The primary distinction here is made between spoken and written discourse (Table 1) with a further distinction made within written discourse between narrative and dialogue (Table 2). By contrast both narrative and dialogue appear to be conflated as written narrative, i.e., literary novels,
. It must be noted, however, that there is one instance of emí, which is either a variant of amí according to Tiševa and Hauge 2001 or a contraction of the interjection e-e amí (M. Savova PC) used by Andrej Lukanov in what seems to be a rather personal appeal to the National Assembly. Lukanov also uses in this very same stretch of discourse the very colloquial discourse marker ajde “come on”, a fairly marked use in such a forum (cf. Tchizmarova 2005), which suggests that this particular stretch of discourse is not typical of what Georgakopoulou and Goutsos term spoken nonnarrative genre.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
in Georgakopoulou and Goutsos, whereas equal weight is given to the distinction of narrative versus nonnarrative.4 Moreover, as will become apparent in the subsequent discussion, it will be crucial for my argumentation that dialogue be considered separately from narrative because dialogue is essentially a written attempt at representing speech and if successful, the use of adversative connectives should pattern accordingly. Table 1 shows the relative distribution of no versus amá versus amí in the two corpora. Table 1. Relative frequency in written versus spoken corpora
Baj Ganjo (16,400 words)
Aleksova (17,700 words)*
Written
(%)
Spoken
(%)
(84) (28) (26) (42)
17 117 106 240
(16) (72) (74) (58)
no amá amí Total
Total 106 163 144 413
89 46 38 173
*In order for the numbers to be comparable, I limited my counts what roughly is the first half of the Aleksova corpus but excluding the conversations with children.
The significance of these frequencies can be understood in the sense of Halliday and James, namely that binary grammatical systems could be separated into two types: “those where the options were equally probable – there being no “unmarked term”, in the quantitative sense; and those where the options were skew, one term being unmarked” (1993: 35). Essentially, what the text counts in Table 1 show are probabilities. If we assume that the relevant distinction between the written and the spoken corpora is that of register, i.e., formal versus colloquial, respectively, then these probabilities support the distinction between no as a conjunction belonging to the standard literary register, and amá and amí as conjunctions or discourse markers belonging to the colloquial register. Moreover, what Table 1 displays is the same sort of skew probability that Georgakopoulou and Goutsos observed for written versus spoken genres in Modern Greek, namely that the adversative connective alá in its function as a conjunction is more frequent in written genre than in spoken, and in its function as a discourse marker more frequent in spoken than written. Accordingly in the case of Bulgarian based on the total numbers of occurrence, we could further extrapolate that no is more likely to be functioning as a conjunction in the written corpus, while amá and amí may function either as conjunctions or as discourse markers in the spoken. . This is not to say that the distinction of narrative versus nonnarrative is irrelevant for adversative connectives in Bulgarian, but only that Mavrodieva corpus is not useful for amá and amí.
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Table 2 makes a further distinction within the written genre between narrative and dialogue.5 Table 2. Relative frequency in Baj Ganjo narrative versus dialogue within written corpus Baj Ganjo (16,400 words)
Total
no amá amí Total
89 46 38 173
narrative 81 13 9 103
(%)
dialogue
(%)
(92) (28) (24) (60)
8 33 29 70
(8) (72) (76) (40)
The relative frequencies for these connectives in narrative versus dialogue within the written language have a virtually identical skew probability pattern to that of written versus spoken in Table 1. Indeed, this confirms the methodological validity of separating out dialogue from narrative within what Georgakopoulou and Goutsos call written narrative. Moreover, it licenses us to do a discourse analysis of dialogue as a manifestation of spoken or colloquial language. In other words, because the author is representing spoken language, it should follow the norms for spoken language, although it is technically written. Furthermore, this separation between narrative and dialogue allows us to make an additional distinction within the dialogue of this novel: that between the non-standard speech of Baj Ganjo, who represents the Balkan or oriental aspect of Bulgaria, and the standard speech of the student-narrators who are studying abroad and thus represent the European, occidental aspect of Bulgaria. The figures in Table 3 then provide further support for the influence of register on the use of no versus amá and amí, namely that no is characteristic of the standard language, and amá and amí of non-standard. What is particularly striking about the frequencies in Table 3 is that the folksy main character Baj Ganjo, who represents the stereotypically Balkan Bulgarian, consistently uses amá and amí, never no. No is found only in the speech of the
. For the purposes of these counts, dialogue consists of those passages that the author has designated as dialogue, i.e., through the use of punctuation. It should be noted that the narrative structure of the novel is a series of episodes wherein each student tells about their own encounter with Baj Ganjo. Thus, the narrative style varies significantly from what one would consider a more formal narrative to indirect represented speech, for example, when the narrator directly addresses his audience. A further distinction within narrative, while desirable and informative, is beyond the scope of the present paper.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
Table 3. Frequency in Baj Ganjo’s speech versus that of other characters Baj Ganjo (16,400 words)
All dialogue
no amá amí Total
8 33 29 70
Other characters 8 2 8 18
(%)
Baj Ganjo
(%)
(100) (3) (27) (26)
0 31 21 52
(0) (97) (73) (74)
other, more educated characters, primarily the Bulgarian student-narrators. This distribution is consistent with the frequent observation that amá and amí are more colloquial than no. Moreover, Baj Ganjo as a rule uses amá and amí more frequently than the other characters. However, this does not explain the asymmetry in the use of amá and amí, namely that except for two instances, amá is found only in Baj Ganjo’s dialogue, while amí is also used by educated characters. In order to account for this fact of distribution, a qualitative analysis that incorporates the interactional level on which these discourse markers function in this novel is needed. Such an analysis is provided in Fielder 2005 where I argue that amá and amí are used in facework, specifically to position the speaker in an oppositional stance with the interlocutor or situation (Goffman 1967; Brown & Levinson 1987). The use of amá supports so-called negative face, while amí supports so-called positive face. Thus, in the cultural context of the novel, Baj Ganjo, amá serves as an affirmation of Balkan identity in the clash of expectations from the Bulgarian and Western European points of view, while amí is used to mitigate the opposition between the two. Accordingly, amá is perceived as assertive, even rude, while amí is perceived as more deferential and even apologetic. Baj Ganjo’s character and world view is such that amá is the adversative connective he uses most often.6 Example (4)7 is a classic example of Baj Ganjo’s cultural insensitivity; it does not occur to him that the Serbs would be offended by having their ethnic identity challenged since he considers the Bulgarian identity as superior.
(4) V Niš i v Belgrad daže toj [= Baj Ganjo] pitaše vsički služašti i xamali: “Ti ne si li bŭlgarin, pravo kaži? Vij vsički ste bŭlgari, ama se srbeete.”
‘In Niš and even in Belgrade he asked all the clerks and porters: “You’re really a Bulgarian, aren’t you, tell the truth? You are all Bulgarians, ama you’re trying to turn yourselves into Serbs!”
. It cannot be accidental, moreover, that the two other instances of amá in dialogue are used by a Bulgarian student who is portrayed as the younger equivalent of Baj Ganjo in terms of world outlook, which supports the claim that amá indexes this Balkan identity. .
Translations are based on unpublished translation by Friedman et al.
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In example (5), however, Baj Ganjo is dependent upon the good will of the student who has promised to take him around to the local factories where he might sell his rose oil. Therefore when it looks as if these plans will not take place when expected, Baj Ganjo protests, but in a deferential way so as not to offend. (5) - Za utre sŭm pokanen u tjax na gosti, če šte me vodjat na edno selo na razxodka. - Ami na fabrikite koga šte me vodiš? – popita praktičeski baj Ganjo. “I’ve been invited to be their guest tomorrow, they will take me on an outing to some village.” “Amí when will you take me to the factories?” asked the ever-practical Baj Ganjo.
This distinction between amá and amí can be supported in the Aleksova corpus. The assertive amá is often used to introduce questions (indeed, Tiševa & Hauge (2001: 251) make a point of noting the interviewer in the Aleksova corpus frequently prefaces repeated, probing questions with amá) and imperatives (in other words, demands), and negative replies, while amí is found in positive replies. Table 4 (adapted from Tiševa & Hauge (2001: 250)8) thus shows that the probabilities of the collocation of amá with ne “no” and amí with da “yes” is consistent with negative and positive facework, respectively. Table 4. amá + ne ‘no’ and amí + da ‘yes’ in Aleksova corpus Total negative Total positive
14 20
amá ne amá da
12 (86%) 1 (5%)
amí ne amí da
2 (14%) 19 (95%)
At this point there do seem to be consistent criteria for using no versus amá versus amí, both of which operate on the interactional level, that is, they index the relationship of the participants in the speech act. Register is sensitive to the power relationship of the speech participants to each other, in that the choice of register depends in part upon who is talking to whom (and about what). Facework also indexes the power relationship of the speech participants: amá signals the speaker’s autonomy, amí signals the speaker’s interdependence with the collocutor. The reader may have noted, however, that in example (4) amá is sentence-medial
. The original table from Tiševa & Hauge (2001: 250) includes data from a second corpus of spoken Bulgarian, the “Nikolova” corpus, in which there are 6 tokens of. amá + ne, 1 token of. amá + da, 0 tokens of amí + da, and 20 tokens of amí + da.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
and amí in example (5) utterance-initial. It would appear that these distinctions apply to these adversative connectives regardless of whether they are functioning as conjunctions or discourse markers. The interactional function then is a separate dimension or axis from the continuum of connectivity.
5. Correlation between position and function of connectives Georgakopoulou and Goutsos 1998 make a strong case for the interrelationship between the position of the connective and whether the discourse is spoken or written, and specifically for the patterning of the Modern Greek connective alá “but”: Here the skew (versus equi) probability appears between initial and medial position in spoken narrative and with the reverse order in written nonnarrative. It is significant that these findings should appear at the opposite sides of the two poles. This would suggest the existence of opposing probabilities for spoken and written discourse, tending to establish alá in initial position in the former (= spoken) and in medial in the latter (= written), as we found to be the case for lipón above. Let us also note here that these probabilities appear in the clearest way in the two subcorpora in which alá is less frequent. (897–898)
The distribution of alá as represented by their data reproduced in Table 5 then is consistent with the claim that initial position is diagnostic for discourse markers and medial position for conjunctions, if we accept the assertion that discourse markers are more frequent in spoken than in written language. The argument therefore is if alá is more likely to be a discourse marker in spoken language and a conjunction in written language, then we would expect to see in initial position more frequently in spoken than in written. And in fact this is the case. Table 5. Distribution of alá in the four corpora Total
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
Spoken narrative
132
119
(90)
13
(10)
Spoken nonnarrative
140
114
(81)
26
(19)
Written narrative
4153
1036
(25)
3117
(75)
Written nonnarrative
3146
261
(8) 2885 (92) (Georgakopoulou & Goutsos 1998: 897)
Although their argumentation is somewhat circular from the point of view of logic, the numbers are certainly persuasive since it is highly unlikely that this strong a skew patterning is coincidental. Moreover, if we run the data from
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Baj Ganjo and Aleksova through the same sieve, we get the same skewed pattern.9 Table 6 shows that the distribution in the Aleksova spoken corpus is consistent with the claim that adversative connectives such as these in spoken language are more likely to be discourse markers and thus more likely (68%) to be found in initial position. The conjunction no therefore is more frequent in medial position, while amá and amí as discourse markers are more frequent in initial position. Table 6. Positional distribution Aleksova spoken corpus (17,700 words)
no amá
Total
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
Final
(%)
Unbound
17
5
(30)
10
(59)
2
(11)
0
117
76
(65)
35
(30)
6
(5)
0
amí
106
81
(76)
19
(18)
1
(1)
5 (5)
Total
240
162
(68)
63
(26)
9
(4)
5 (2)
The fact that amá and amí also occur in medial position in the spoken corpus can be explained by playing the register card: they are the colloquial version of no and function as conjunctions as well as discourse markers, as supported by their overall frequency in the spoken corpus (117 tokens of amá (= 49%), 106 tokens of amí (= 44%) versus only 17 tokens of no (= 7%). It should be noted, however, that amí is used as a conjunction less frequently than amá. This tendency for amí to be used in the discourse marker function more often would be consistent with its use as a stand-alone reply signaling both agreement and solidarity (something like the use of amen in colloquial English meaning “you said it, right on”), as in example (6) where the second syllable is drawn out. It is this use that has led some, e.g., Ivanova 1952, to call amí an interjection. (6) V: Da de, primerno prez ljatoto deteto može da go vodite. R: // možeme kat porasne napravo tam može da sedi // nij iskame da otidem sea za pone penajs dena posedim na čis vŭzdux// V: Rosene, as ako imax, kakto mečtaja da go izveda malkija ot taja mrŭsna Sofija s tozi spastičen bronxit R: //ami:// (Aleksova ) V: Well, yes, it precisely during the summer that you can take the child. R: //We can since he’s grown he can stay right there // we all want to go for at least 15 days to sit in clean air //
. In order to be able to count a connective as initial or medial in the spoken corpus, the arbitrary decision was made to count as initial any connective that occurred in turn-initial position or that followed a long pause, indicated by Aleksova as // (as opposed to a single /). Ideally, one would have the intonational contour available to aid in the segmentation of the discourse.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
V: Rosena, if I could, how I dream of taking my little one out of this dirty Sofia with that spastic bronchitis of his R: //ami://
Table 7 reflects the position distribution in the written corpus. The preferred position for no not surprisingly remains medial position (78%), but we see a definite shift in the frequencies for amá and amí, such that medial position is more likely (67%). Moreover, there is a decided preference for medial position for amá (59%), which represents a reversal of the pattern of the spoken corpus, and while there is no statistically significant preference of medial position for amí, the shift in probability (18% in spoken to 52% in written) is pronounced. Table 7. Positional distribution in Baj Ganjo written corpus (16,400 words) Total
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
no
89
19
(21)
70
(79)
amá
46
19
(41)
27
(59)
amí
38
18
(47)
20
(52)
Total
173
56
(32)
117
(67)
Even more persuasive are the probabilities when we make a further distinction between narrative (Table 8) and dialogue (Table 9). Here we find that the distribution of frequencies in dialogue match the skew probabilities for the spoken corpus in Table 6. Thus, narrative (Table 8) patterns with written (Table 7) and dialogue (Table 9) patterns with spoken (Table 6). Again, no consistently patterns as a conjunction in medial position regardless of narrative versus dialogue, while for amá and amí medial position is favored for narrative and initial for dialogue. While the overall number of initial connectives in narrative is higher than that of dialogue, if we compare the frequencies of amá and amí in initial position in narrative (15% and 33%, respectively) to their frequencies in dialogue (52%), the degree of shift is statistically significant. Table 8. Positional distribution Baj Ganjo narrative Total
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
no
81
18
(22)
63
(77)
amá
13
2
(15)
11
(85)
amí
9
3
(33)
6
(67)
103
23
(22)
80
(78)
Total
One of the difficulties with the counts in Table 9 is how to separate out the strength of two different, sometimes competing factors: the fact that dialogue
Grace E. Fielder
Table 9. Positional distribution Baj Ganjo Dialogue
no amá
Total
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
8
1
(13)
7
(87)
33
17
(52)
16
(48)
amí
29
15
(52)
14
(48)
Total
70
33
(47)
37
(53)
represents a less formal register than narrative results in a higher frequency of amá and amí used as conjunctions instead of no, which in turn results in a higher frequency of amá and amí used in medial position than one would expect for dialogue (all other things being equal, which they are not). In other words, if an adversative connective is needed in the function of a conjunction, amá and amí are more likely to be used than no. Thus the factor of register masks the effect of spoken genre, that is, the dialogue, by causing a higher number of tokens in medial position than expected. By distinguishing between Baj Ganjo’s dialogue and that of the other characters, this factor of register can be taken into account. See Table 10. Table 10. Positional distribution in Baj Ganjo's speech versus that of other characters Baj Ganjo Initial no
(%)
Other characters Medial
(%)
Initial
(%)
Medial
(%)
8
0
(0)
0
(0)
1
(13)
7
(87)
amá
33
16
(52)
15
(48)
1
(50)
1
(50)
amí
29
9
(43)
12
(57)
6
(75)
2
(25)
Total
70
25
(48)
27
(52)
8
(45)
10
(55)
Several observations can be made here. The first is that no and amá are essentially in complementary distribution in the dialogues of this novel: Baj Ganjo uses amá and the other characters use no. This distribution confirms the register difference between these two items. Example (7) below illustrates Baj Ganjo’s use of amá as a conjunction and a discourse marker. As far as amí is concerned, it used more often by Baj Ganjo (72%) than the other characters (27%), which is consistent with the colloquial register of his speech. It is also the case that Baj Ganjo uses amí slightly more frequently in medial (57%) position than intial (43%), while the other characters use it significantly more often in initial position (75%). This distribution also confirms a register difference in the use of amí such that Baj Ganjo uses it as both a conjunction and a discourse marker, while for the other characters it is primarily a discourse marker.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
(7) “I nij rabotim, ama i tezi sinkovci ne padat po-dolu, aa, ne padat po-dolu, pipa sinkovcite.” No kato se seti, če e uvljakŭl v poxvalata, pribavi: “Ama vsičkoto nafile. Te rabotjat, pŭk nemecŭt go jade.”
“Well, we work, too, but these sonsabitches aren’t kidding around! They get on a job, and they get it done!” But then he realized that he had slipped into complimenting them, and added “But it’s all for nothing. They do the work, and the Germans eat the profits.”
The last example (8) is particularly instructive because it confirms the register factor as operating separately from the position factor. This particular example is emblematic of the use of amá by Konstantinov and nicely illustrates the register distinction between no and amá. In the following passage, Baj Ganjo has shown up at the house of Jiriček, the famous Czech linguist, and is trying to elicit an invitation to spend the night there rather than to have to pay for a hotel room while in Prague. Jiriček meanwhile is trying to politely, but firmly refuse. As a non-native speaker of Bulgarian, and a linguist, Jiriček speaks very correct, standard Bulgarian as opposed to Baj Ganjo’s vernacular. (8) - Az šte navŭrtam po–često okolo vas, šte si prikazvame za Bŭlgarija. Pa ako običate, sŭglasen sŭm i u vas da ostana, dodeto sŭm v Praga. A? - Izvinete, no … - K azvam, sankim, ako običate – objasnjava spleteno Baj Ganjo, – i men mi po-dobre na xotela, amá xajde, rekox, Ireček – naš čovek … - B lagodarja za vnimanieto; az bi zadŭržal na drago sŭrdce u doma, no ne razpolagam s lišni pomeštenija. Dnes obače vie ste naš gost i šte objadvate u nas. “I‘ll hang around your place more, we‘ll chat about Bulgaria. And if you like, I‘ll even stay here at your place while I‘m in Prague. What do you say?” “I‘m sorry, no … “That is to say, I mean, if you would be so kind – Baj Ganjo explained in confusion – as for me, I would prefer a hotel, amá I said to myself, hey, I said, Jireček, he’s one of us …” “Thank you very much for your consideration, I would happily give you a place to stay here, no I do not have any extra room. Today, however, you are our guest and will dine with us.”
This example also demonstrates the importance of doing a qualitative analysis as a complement to a quantitative analysis. At first glance, amá does appear to be simply a colloquial version of no, used by Konstantinov to sharpen the contrast between the highly educated speech of Jiriček and the rural speech of Baj Ganjo. The exceeding polite and tactful European Jiriček uses the more standard no (along with other features of a more formal register, such as the formulaic blagodarja za vnimanieto “thank you for your consideration” and use of the conditional mood bi zadŭržal na drago sŭrdce‚ I would be pleased’) in his attempt to indirectly refuse
Grace E. Fielder
Baj Ganjo’s request. When a discourse marker is called for, he correctly uses obače “however” in the usual second position (rather than sentence-initial). Baj Ganjo, on the other hand, employs the more direct and assertive amá, along with other features of the colloquial register, i.e., the Turkism sankim “I mean” and object reduplication (i men mi po-dobre na xotela “me as for me at a hotel is better”). Moreover, this amá is, after all, in sentence-medial position, the diagnostic position for a conjunction according to Georgakopoulou and Goutsos. Upon closer examination, however, it is not altogether clear that this apparently sentence-medial amá is in fact functioning as a conjunction in the traditional sense of linking clauses. As a matter of fact this amá introduces a new unit of discourse, specifically a piece of reported speech which Baj Ganjo reproduces in order to justify his face-threatening act of pushing for hospitality. This reported speech needs to be integrated into the preceding discourse chunk, and, I would argue, this is part of the function of amá here. This particular amá, therefore, could even be considered as utterance-initial in that it introduces a turn-exchange in which Baj Ganjo interrupts his current discourse with prior discourse. It does not link two propositions in the same way as the conjunction no does in this example. In fact, it is not clear what assumption is being contradicted. Nor is it clear what precisely constitutes the contradiction: amá xajde “but come on”, which, as a collocation, is a mitigating interjection (Greenberg 1996: 60; Tchizmarova 2005), or ama rekox “but I said”, which explicitly links it to the reported speech unit, or even ama Ireček – naš čovek “but Jiriček is one of us”, which links it propositionally to the Baj Ganjo’s assumption that Jiriček is under some sort of transferred obligation to reciprocate the hospitality he received while in Bulgaria (and therefore Baj Ganjo is not out of line in making this suggestion). Although this example confirms the effect of register, it also brings to light the shortcomings of a quantitative analysis that is not complemented by a qualitative analysis. In identifying connectives as initial versus medial in this novel, the author’s punctuation and orthography was used. In the above example, however, despite the medial position of this amá, it is not obviously either a conjunction or a discourse marker, but rather serves as a connective on multiple levels at the same time. Thus, as compelling as the numbers in the above tables appear, a quantitative analysis of corpora alone is insufficient to a comprehensive analysis of these connectives. In order to determine what level the connective is operating at, a qualitative discourse analysis is required to assess the function regardless of its position. Thus, these connectives may link clauses at the propositional level (examples (2) and (4)), introducing a new discourse unit at the rhetorical level (example (8)), or indexing power relationships at the interactional level (example (5)). Moreover, it is possible for these connectives to function on more than one level in the same context so that a clear distinction between a conjunction and a discourse marker cannot be unambiguously made.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
6. Conclusions The findings of this analysis can be summarized in Table 11 below. It must be stressed that these reflect probabilistic tendencies, or patterns of preference, rather than categorical classifications. Thus, the terms conjunction and discourse marker represent points on a continuum of connectivity. Table 11. Preferred position and probable function in relation to genre and register Connective
Corpus genre
Register
no
written
standard
medial
conjunction
amá
spoken
colloquial
initial
discourse marker
medial
conjunction
written dialogue
standard
initial
discourse marker
colloquial
initial
discourse marker
medial
conjunction
colloquial
initial
discourse marker
medial
conjunction
amí
spoken written dialogue
Position
Probable function
standard
initial
discourse marker
colloquial
initial
discourse marker
medial
conjunction
A correlation has also been shown between the function of these connectives and genre (written versus spoken) and register (standard versus non-standard, or colloquial), such that, all other things being equal, connectives are more likely to function as conjunctions in written corpora and as discourse markers in spoken corpora. Register, however, can affect this distribution such that in colloquial language, connectives that might be associated more with a discourse marker function can be used in the conjunction function. By the same token, a conjunction such as no can be used as a discourse marker, thus providing further support for conceptualizing connectives as a continuum rather than binary categories of conjunction versus discourse marker. The fact that the dialogue in the written corpus patterns with the spoken corpus has implications for historical discourse analysis where speech data are not available. Thus, dialogue in a novel can mimic spoken language closely enough so that we may use it in the analysis of older languages for which novels and plays may be often the only evidence we have for earlier stages of the spoken language. Although not an ideal source for attesting the spoken language, it is certainly better than nothing at all.
Grace E. Fielder
This paper has argued that the distinction between conjunctions and discourse markers is better conceptualized as a continuum rather than as two separate and independent categories. By describing Bulgarian no, amá and amí as adversative connectives, an important generalization regarding the similarity of their function can be made. They function to connect units (clauses, sentences, turn-exchanges) on different levels of discourse, sometimes even on more than one level at a time. While medial position is generally speaking a useful indicator that a connective is functioning as a conjunction and initial position as a discourse marker, this is not a true litmus test. As brought home by example (8), qualitative analysis must supplement the quantitative analysis in order to fine tune the data. Ideally for spoken data, intonational information would be available to aid in the appropriate segmentation as well as enhance the determination of the interactional factors.
References Primary Aleksova, K. Corpus of spoken Bulgarian. http://www.hf.uio.no/ilos/studier/studenttjenester/ Nettressurser/bulg/mat/Aleksova/ Konstantinov, A. 1983. Baj Ganjo. Sofia. Unpublished English translation V. Friedman et al. Mavrodieva, I. Transcripts of Bulgarian Parliament Debates. http://www.hf.uio.no/ilos/studier/ studenttjenester/Nettressurser/bulg/mat/Parliament/
Secondary Bamberg, M. & Marchman,V. 1991. Binding and unfolding: towards the linguistic construction of narrative discourse. Discourse Processes 14(3): 277–305. Biber, D. et al. 1999. Longman Grammar of Spoken and Written English. Harlow: Longman. Blakemore, D. 1992. Understanding Utterances: An Introduction to Pragmatics. Oxford: Blackwell. Blakemore, D. 2002. Linguistic Meaning and Relevance: The Semantics and Pragmatics of Discourse Markers. Cambridge: CUP. Brown, P. & Levinson, S. 1987. Politeness: Some Universals in Language Usage, Cambridge: CUP. Dorgeloh, H. 2004. Conjunction in sentence and discourse: Sentence initial and and discourse structure. Journal of Pragmatics 36: 1761–1779. Fielder, G. 2005. Discourse markers as Balkanisms. Eighth Annual Kenneth E. Naylor Lecture. April 29, 2005. Ohio State University. (GBSKE) Grammatika sŭvremennija bŭlgarski knižoven ezik. Tom II. Morfologia. 1983. Sofia: BAN. Georgakopoulou, A. & Goutsos, D. 1998. Conjunctions versus discourse markers in Greek: The interaction of frequency, position, and functions in context. Linguistics 36–35: 887–917. Goffman, E. 1967. Interaction Ritual. Essays on Face-to-Face Behavior. London: The Penguin Press.
Bulgarian adversative connectives: Conjunctions or discourse markers?
Greenberg, R. 1996. The Balkan Slavic Appellative. Műnchen: Lincom. Halliday, M.A.K. & James, Z. 1993. A quantitative study of polarity and primary tense in the English finite clause. In Techniques of Description: Spoken and Written Discourse. Sinclair, J.M., Hoey, M. & Fox, J. (Eds), London & New York: Routledge. Hauge, K. 1999. A Short Grammar of Contemporary Bulgarian. Columbus: Slavica. Ivanova, D. 1952. Za upotrebata na sŭjuza ami v knižovnata reč. Bŭlgarski ezik. 1(2): 119–121. Joseph, B. 1997. Methodological issues in the history of the Balkan lexicon: The case of Greek vré/ré and its relatives. Balkanistica 10: 255–277. (RBE) Rečnik bŭlgarskija ezik. I. 1977. Sofia: BAN. Redeker, G. 1990. Ideational and pragmatic markers of discourse structure. Journal of Pragmatics 14(3): 367–381. (SBE) Bojadžiev, T., Kucarov, I., & Penčev, J. 1998. Sŭvremenen Bŭlgarski Ezik. Sofia: Petŭr Beron. Schiffrin, D. 1987. Discourse Markers. Cambridge: CUP. Schiffrin, D. 2001. Discourse Markers. In Handbook of Discourse Analysis, D. Schiffrin, D. Tannen & H. Hamilton (Eds), 54–75. Oxford: Blackwell. Tiševa, Y. & Hauge, K. 2001. Sŭjuzi za protivopostavjane v roljata na pragmatični častici. In Problemi na Bŭlgarskata razgovorna reč 5, Peta nacionalna konferencija po problemite na razgovornija ezik, Rusinov, R. et al. (Eds), 242–252. Veliko Tŭrnovo: Faber. Tchizmarova, I. 2005. Hedging functions of the Bulgarian discourse marker xajde. Journal of Pragmatics 37: 1143–1163. Vrina, M. 1999. Ekspresivnite častici v bŭlgarsija ezik. Veliko Tŭrnovo: Abagar.
Projectability and clause combining in interaction* Paul J. Hopper
Carnegie Mellon University
Sandra A. Thompson
University of California, Santa Barbara We examine a set of supposedly “biclausal” constructions in natural conversations in English and German, and argue that: (1) these constructions are not biclausal, since the second “clause” is typically not a clause but an indeterminate stretch of discourse without a consistent syntactic structure; (2) the first “clause” functions to strongly project this upcoming discourse segment; (3) in certain of the allegedly biclausal constructions even the first part is not really a clause but is instead a fixed sequence with limited lexical choices. We suggest that these apparently “biclausal” constructions should be analyzed as single, partly formulaic clauses deployed by speakers in managing interactional discourse. This analysis accounts for a number of previously unnoticed restrictions on the grammatical and prosodic form the formulaic clauses take, as well as for their projective properties.
1. Introduction Clause combining in English often takes the form of a set of constructions (generally described as “adverbial clause constructions” (e.g., Thompson, Longacre & Hwang 2007) consisting of a pair of clauses in which one clause (often termed the “subordinate” clause) is linked to the other clause (often termed the “main” clause) both prosodically and lexically. Prosodically, each clause typically forms its own prosodic unit, the first one ending with a “continuing” terminal pitch contour
* We are grateful to the following people for discussion of the ideas presented here: Joan Bybee,
Elizabeth Couper-Kuhlen, Robert Englebretson, Ritva Laury, Tsuyoshi Ono, and Stephanie Schultze-Wenck. None of them is responsible for the use to which we have put their advice.
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
(Du Bois et al. 1993). Lexically, the “subordinate” clause is introduced by one of a specific set of conjunctions, as in the following extracts from our data: (1) conditional if f=riends are recording tapes in Dolby C=,1 then you’ll be able to play it back and it’ll sound right. (2) time adverbial when I put the tape in, I never know which direction it’s gonna go. (3)
reason adverbial I don’t think it would benefit from pins, because, we’d have to undo it.
However, some apparently biclausal constructions seem to have quite a different structure, in that the first of the two clauses is relatively fixed, as opposed to the “open” structure generally found in instantiations such as (1)–(3): (4) “pseudocleft” ... (H) Well what we’re trying to get at, ... is potential ... versus ... actual. (5) it-cleft [talking about a tape recorder that doesn’t have a certain capability] ... it’s the dual one that doesn’t.,
(6) extraposition it’s possible see that I would change (MC 29b)
In a number of recent publications, the “adverbial clause” constructions exemplified in (1)–(3) have been considered from the perspective of conversational interactions (Akatsuka 1997; Akatsuka & Clancy 1993; Akatsuka & Strauss 2000; Auer 2000; Chafe 1984; Clancy 2007; Couper-Kuhlen 1996, 1999; Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson 2006; Ford 1993, 1997.) Also considering interactional data, in this paper we would like to augment these studies by contrasting the constructions exemplified in (4)–(6), which are apparently biclausal, with
. Unless otherwise noted, our extracts are drawn from the Corpus of Spoken American English (Du Bois et al. 2000–2005); transcription follows Du Bois et al. (1993). Noteworthy for our analysis are these conventions: • • •
single line : intonation unit punctuation indicates prosodic transitional continuity = : length
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
the “adverbial clause” group in (1)–(3) to see what conclusions may be drawn about their grammatical structure. 2. Apparently biclausal constructions 2.1 Pseudocleft (wh-cleft) Utterances like (4) above manifest what is known as either a pseudocleft or wh-cleft construction: (4) ‘pseudocleft’ ... (H) Well what we’re trying to get at, ... is potential ... versus ... actual.
The standard grammatical analysis of this construction posits a bipartite, that is, a biclausal, structure that comprises a wh-clause and a focus clause introduced by the copula be, which we will refer to as the be-clause. There have been various attempts to characterize the local function of the construction, all of them cast in the model of information structure (Biber et al. 1999; Collins 1991; Geluykens 1988; Prince 1978; Quirk et al. 1985; Weinert & Miller 1996). These attempts rely on the notions of presupposition, background, old, given, or thematic information for the wh-clause and focus, assertion, foreground, or new for the be-clause. In the Longman grammar (Biber et al. 1999: 959), which is corpus-based, wh-clefts are described as consisting of “a clause introduced by a wh-word, usually what, with its own point of focus, typically at the end; a form of the verb to be; [and] the specially focused element: a noun phrase, an infinitive clause, or a finite nominal clause”. In this account each clause is taken to have its own point of “focus”, so the biclausal pseudocleft sentence contains what might be termed a “minor focus” in the wh-clause and a “major focus” in the be clause. Intuitively, there seems to be something valid about this characterization, but these earlier descriptions of pseudoclefts leave some important considerations unaddressed. The first is that, even in those accounts which are based on actual data, they all attempt to account for the “pseudocleft construction” as having cognitive properties, rather than as interactional achievements, thus missing their actual function, as we will show. A second problem is that no satisfactory function of the be-clause has been identified, since “focus” is pre-eminently a contextual notion, but no research has addressed what aspects of the context might motivate a speaker to want to “focus” some segment of talk. In other words, these accounts do not attempt to probe what “focus” might mean in interactional terms. According to our conversational data, this is by no means surprising, since what has been called the “focus” element is in principle of unlimited length. Prince (1978) notes this, but does not discuss its implications for her analysis. Identifying the
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
focus as an entire clause is possible, of course, but, as we will show, quite often the follow-up to the wh-clause extends indefinitely far into the subsequent interaction. A third problem is that by no means all of the wh-clauses are followed up by anything resembling a be-clause. Thus the many extracts like the following: (7) ROY: What you oughta do though ~Mar, ... [cook] all the fish. MARILYN: [Hm]. ROY: ... Cause – – ... well, we won’t use it, ... if you don’t cook it.
in which a wh-clause fails to be followed up with a be-clause according to a biclausal criterion, would not be accounted for. Typically, these “incomplete” pseudoclefts are regarded as reduced and deviant versions of the “full” construction (e.g., in Collins 1991). As a result, the distinctive contribution of the wh-clause to whatever discourse function is proposed for the pair is either understated or missing completely. Newer work on the English pseudocleft (Hopper 2001, 2004) and on the corresponding construction in German by Günthner (1999) places the pseudocleft in the context of grammatical constructions that serve wider interactional goals. Data from English conversational discourse make it clear that: (a) Most pseudoclefts in everyday conversation are not syntactically biclausal, that is, they do not consist of two clauses combined into a single construction. Often, for example, the wh-clause is followed by a whole finite clause, not a “noun phrase, an infinitive clause, or a finite nominal clause”, the criterion suggested by Quirk et al. (1985), as is illustrated in these extracts: (8) or what I would like to do, is I would like to take a day. (9) (H) So then what you do is, you sprinkle the fifth-graders out evenly. (10) What you oughta do though Mar, ... cook all the fish.
In these extracts, the two clauses are syntactically separate entities, and one could not convincingly speak of a construction in which two clausal elements are grammatically combined. Only the common subject reference in the two clauses serves as a referential link. However, in other extracts, the follow-up clause has a different subject from the wh-clause: (11) w- ... what we’ll do is, ... those’ll probably wire transfer [out].
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
(12) And, what- what- what we would do is], they would take care of the account maintenance.
Finally, in others, there is no “be clause” at all. Instead, the talk continues without any single clause that would tie it grammatically or referentially to the whclause. In (13)–(14), there is no possibility of a biclausal construction analysis: (13) → What we do, then that's ... that's where the ferrier comes in. (14) →
... (H) What I did, ... kind of, ... (H) in regard to that, was, ... and, ... I don’t have this date finalized, but, (H) s- – – ... I’m trying to go maybe the second week ...of ...January, (H) to ha = ve ... a representative of Bankers Systems, (H) ... come >.
From these extracts, it can be seen that the construction as it is often found in written English and in manufactured example sentences is by no means the norm in everyday conversational English. (b) To this fact must be added another, that the freely generated (or “open choice” (Sinclair 1991)) pseudocleft of syntactic analyses is illusory when data from interactions are considered in terms of grammar in its real-time social context. In fact, most of the wh-clauses in pseudoclefts in our data are lexically constrained and formulaic. Most strikingly, a small number of verbs predominate in the wh-clause. The following extracts illustrate three of the most frequent verbs, do, happen, and mean: (15) → What we do, then that's ... that's where the ferrier comes in. (16) → w hat’s happened is is as they’ve come on board and that we feel that we have got to [X] grips with them2
. Extracts (16) and (17) are from the Cobuild corpus (Collins Birmingham University International Linguistic Database). This corpus does not aim to represent spoken language in a close transcription. The convention [X] refers to material that could not be understood from the tape.
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
(17) → what I mean is it’s half six right so it’s not doesn’t push you.
Say is also very common. Table 1 gives the percentages of verbs in the whclause, taken from the Cobuild corpus. Table 1. Number of verbs in wh-clause of pseudoclefts in Cobuild corpus (from Hopper 2001) do happen
118 (66%) 23 (13%)
say
15 (8%)
want mean think need find Total
8 6 4 3 3 180
87%
13%
It can be seen here that the three most frequent verbs, do, happen and say, account for 87% of all verbs in wh-clauses. On its own, do accounts for two-thirds of such clauses. This heavily biased distribution suggests that the wh-clause of the pseudocleft is basically a formula <what – NP – do/say – is/was> [verbal expression] or <what – happen – is|was> [verbal expression]. (c) A by-product of this fact is that the verb of the wh-clause works to classify a segment of the up-coming discourse as an Action (do); or as an Event (happen) characterized as a complex of actions, occurrences, and situations; or as a Paraphrase (say, mean). In (18), the speaker is announcing an intention to “call you and find out,” that is, to perform an action: Action (18) (H) Then what I’ll do ... is, ... when – ... you can – ... I’ll call you and find out.
The more complex set of occurrences that qualifies as an Event is introduced by the verb happen in the wh-clause. In the following excerpt, Rickie, an attorney, outlines to Rebecca, her client, a series of things that will take place on the day of a hearing: Event (19) RICKIE: ... W- what will happen is, ... you’ll walk into the courtroom here. REBECCA: ... [Mhm].
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
RICKIE: [There are door]s right here. REBECCA: [2Yeah2]. RICKIE: [2(H)2] There are seats right here, ... u=m, ... that are for the audience, but normally there’s nobody in the audience but, REBECCA: [Okay]. RICKIE: [your] husband will be there, (H)=u=m, ... (TSK) a=nd=, ... then, ... there are two tables right here. ... I’ll be seated at this table. REBECCA: [Mhm]. [(H)] An=d, RICKIE: ... the defendant ... and the defense attorney will be seated at this table.
In (19), the things that will “happen” are not restricted to a single action, but comprise actions, changes, and situations – where the chairs and tables will be, who will be present, what routines will be followed, etc. The things that Rickie describes are a complex that together makes up an event – something that “happens,” as opposed to something someone “does”. When the wh-clause contains a verb of saying, as in: Paraphrase (20) what I’m saying is, you acquire this through the socialization process. that we’ve discussed already.
the speaker’s words are typically a paraphrase of something that has been said, perhaps at greater length and more obscurely, in prior talk. The motive for presenting such a paraphrase is in part to clarify previous utterances (“what I meant to say was …”). But such clarification may also serve as a rhetorical tactic to rephrase an utterance that seems to have failed to align or harmonize with the prevailing “mood” of the interaction, or even to make a new assertion (Prince 1978: 891). Simultaneously it works to prepare the way for the subsequent points that are to be made. In all of these situations, what is striking is that the wh-clause of the pseudocleft anticipates (or “projects”) up-coming talk by the same speaker, and, as we have seen, frames that talk in terms of such categories as event, action, and paraphrase. We will return to this point below. It also holds the floor while the speaker
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
develops a line of thought or formulates his/her next utterance, giving the appearance of fluency and complexity. (d) A final feature that distinguishes the wh-clause found in natural conversational data is that the use of the pseudocleft is conditioned by sociocultural and interactional factors. For example, in 13 comparably long transcripts of Part I of the Corpus of Spoken American English, one interaction alone accounted for 21 of the 26 examples of pseudoclefts. This was the interaction named “Letter of Concern”. The core of this interaction is a conspiratorial conversation between two officers of a company, both males. One of them, Phil, is articulating to the other, Brad, a scheme to exclude a certain female employee, Donna, from an important all-day meeting (referred to as a retreat). At the start of the extract, Phil presents the plan, which entails setting up a special post-meeting briefing for the benefit of Donna in order to justify excluding her from the retreat. Phil rehearses what he will say to Donna: (21) PHIL: You know, we’re having a board retreat. ... you [know, BRAD: [R=ight]. PHIL: that it’s not] gonna include staff, if that’s what we [2decide. BRAD: [2Right2]. ... Unhunh2]. PHIL: (H)2] ... And what we will do (Hx), is I think, ... what we’re gonna probably wanna do, or what I would like to do, is I would like to take a day. BRAD: M[hm]. PHIL: [(H)]=... %d=- during the week, and we’ll just take a whole day. ... That day. An=d myself, (H) uh, if we have a uh=facilitator, BRAD: ... Mhm. PHIL: (H) = U=m, that that person, you and !Patricia and ... %!D=!Donna, BRAD: ... Mhm, PHIL: and maybe one other, or two other board members would, ... actually spend that day and just say okay, this is what went on at that retreat.
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
In this extract, and throughout the conversation, it is clear that Phil is improvising. The pseudocleft formula gives him “down time” to clarify the plan to himself and to his partner in the conversation at the same time as he is holding the floor. Basically Phil is simply saying that he and some others will take off a whole day to brief Donna. The pseudoclefts serve the cognitive role of allowing space within which to organize his proposal. But they also, by filling what might otherwise be embarrassing silences with recognized (if meaningless) expressions, are interactionally designed to give the interlocutor the impression of a proposal that has been fully thought out and is being fluently articulated. Furthermore, by spreading the proposal out through clauses that are in essence empty, Phil manages to suggest that he has more arguments than he really has – that his thinking has been more proactive, more decisive, and more profound than is really the case. Notice here that the pseudocleft is far from being the only device that accomplishes these rhetorical ends; Phil’s discourse is full of stops and starts and redundancies that likewise serve to string out his, ultimately, rather simple idea. Finally, Phil is “thinking out loud”. He is testing his plan in front of an interlocutor to find out if it will hold water. He is creating interactional space to work out how to be unassailable. The corporate milieu of this extract introduces another social factor, that of register. One context that favors the use of the pseudocleft is the kind of discourse in which the speaker is “holding forth” on a topic, often in the role of expert.3 This kind of talk is typical of what Martin Joos (1967) named the consultative style. In this register speakers are guarded, choosing their words carefully in the knowledge that they may later be quoted. Their discourse tends to be laid out in the form of arguments in a monologue. Since pseudoclefts also have an affinity for monologue and the framing of arguments, their frequent appearance in the consultative register is thereby accounted for. In addition, a frequent strategic use of the pseudocleft is to delay a stretch of talk so as to provide a modal or stance-taking frame for the upcoming action (Hopper 2000, 2004; Günthner 1999, 2006). In the next extract, from the same conversation as (21) above, Marilyn and Roy and their friend Pete are fixing dinner together. Marilyn is trying to figure out how to make two pieces of fish serve three people. (22)
1 ROY: 2 MARILYN: 3 ROY: 4
... I could eat ... o = ne of those. ... you could? well, ... [but I] won’t.
. The “expert/novice” roles are also revealed in part by pseudoclefts in the discussion among three elementary school teachers, as exemplified in (23).
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
5 PETE: [@@] 6 then [I guess] – 7 ROY: [I mean], 8 Marilyn: [okay.] 9 PETE: [divide] [it in half. 10 ROY: [well don’t] – 11 Marilyn: [then I’ll] – 12 ROY: y13 what you oughta do though Mar, 14 ... cook all the fish. 15 ... cause – 16 we won’t use it, 17 ... if you don’t cook it.
In lines 1–11, Roy, Marilyn, and Pete can be seen to be negotiating how to deal with the fish. Significantly, these utterances, and especially those in lines 9–11, are characterized by dysfluencies, cut-offs, and lack of resolution. It is at this point that Roy, in line 12, begins a directive to Marilyn, which is the action that his utterance in lines 13–16 is doing, the [y–] in line 12 presumably being the beginning of you. In line 13, he produces a wh-clause fragment, which we suggest serves here to frame the following talk as something she should ‘do’ i.e., as a directive to cook all the fish, whose effect is to “cut to the chase”, and conclude the negotiation. Our evidence that this is his agenda can be found in lines 15–17, where he provides a motivation (cause we won’t use it if you don’t cook it) for his directive. Extract (23) illustrates this framing function of the pseudocleft with especial clarity: (23)
1. SHARON: ... (TSK) (H) Oh, 2. well, 3. ... what you do with those third-graders, 4. you know, 5. is you just like, 6. (H) take them, 7. and put them, 8. you know, 9. with one of the smarter fourth-graders, 10. who’s very [ver]bal, 11. CAROLYN: [uh]. 12. SHARON: and ... and well-beha=ved.
The predicate of Sharon’s turn is put in line (7); but put does not make its appearance until well into her turn. It is preceded in line 3 by a “pseudocleft” wh-phrase, which in this case is formulated so as to reintroduce the lexical noun phrase those
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
third graders, mentioned earlier in the conversation. This noun phrase anticipates the pronoun direct objects of take them (line 6) and put them (line 7). After those third graders in line 3, the next two lines present, first, the filler you know (line 4) and then in line 5, the is of the pseudocleft and the subject you of the next two verbs. The take of line 6 projects the put of line 7. (This anticipating use of the verb take in English has been analyzed in Hopper 2001, 2006). Line 8 is another instance of the filler you know, and lines 9–12 are devoted to the elaborate noun phrase one of the smarter fourth-graders, who’s very verbal, and … well-behaved. In this extract, then, the pseudocleft can be seen to be collaborating with other devices (the use of the “delayers” you know and like, the projecting use of take, the early introduction of the lexical direct object those third graders) to delay, and thereby deliver a very strong focus on, the adverbial phrase with one of the smarter fourth-graders, who’s very verbal . . . and . . . and well behaved in lines 9–12. Sharon’s turn in extract (23) brings to the surface another local use of the pseudocleft, one which meshes well with its broader, more interactional and strategic functions. The grammatical unit spanning lines 6–12 distributes lexical verbs and their noun arguments over multiple clauses and multiple prosodic units and thereby enables complexes of information to be delivered at a slower rate – “one clause at a time”, as Pawley and Syder (2000) put it. At a strategic level, as we have seen, the interactional function of the wh-clause is to project certain social actions. But it can also serve to (re)introduce NP arguments. Sharon uses the pseudocleft what you do with those third-graders both to prepare the advice given in lines 6–12 and to reintroduce the NP (those third-graders) that is the centerpiece of this advice. The pseudocleft permits her to establish those third-graders first, while she works out how she’s going to present the advice. Moreover, the use of take in line 6 allows a third reference to the third-graders (in addition to the full lexical reference in line 3 and the anaphoric pronoun in line 7) to be added, thereby reinforcing the establishment of those third-graders as who the conversation has been about. We have shown for “pseudoclefts” that their apparent “biclausality” is something of a chimera for everyday English interactions. Hopper (2001, 2004) suggests that this discrepancy between accounts in the literature of pseudocleft constructions and the actual facts of conversational English may be traced at least in part to analysts’ basing their accounts on example sentences reflecting intuitions about written English patterns. He further proposes a significant shift in our understanding of linguistic constructions for literate speakers of English, namely that, rather than view everyday conversational English “pseudocleft fragments” as a degenerate variety of a biclausal pseudocleft norm, linguists would be better advised to consider the written pseudocleft construction to be a normativized version of the what-fragment found pervasively in interaction.
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
We have suggested that a major factor in the normativization and persistent perception of biclausality in constructions such as the English pseudocleft is the strong projectability of the wh-component. That is, in interactional spoken English this construction routinely projects “more to come”. As we have seen, the “more” is most frequently not a clause but an indeterminate stretch of discourse. But in normative English, the construction has become standardized so that the “more” is a grammatical clause. Intriguingly, much current research suggests that a very similar shift in our understanding of the sociocognitive foundations of constructions may be called for in the analysis of a number of other apparently biclausal constructions that have received attention in the grammatical literature. 2.2 Extraposition One such construction is that which is known as English “extraposition”. In their interactional research, Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson (2006, 2008) note, following Biber et al. (1999), that constructions that have gone by the name “extraposition” involve an evaluative, epistemic or evidential framing of one stretch of talk by another. For example, in (24), the X portion both provides an epistemic frame for, and strongly projects, the Y portion: (24) it turns out X
as a spouse, I get in free. Y
Their conversational data show unequivocally that the X expressions, the evaluative, epistemic, evidential framing expressions, are generally formulaic (what Biber et al. (1999: 989ff) call “lexical bundles”), and that they project “more to come”, i.e., the material that they are framing. Further, Couper-Kuhlen and Thompson’s interactional analysis proposes just the sort of shift in understanding that we outlined above for pseudoclefts. That is, rather than assume that the “extraposition” construction is a biclausal syntactic construction, they propose that the syntactic “extraposition” construction emerges from a recurrent interactional format wherein X and Y are separate turn units. In this format, X and Y are best characterized as being cognitively stored and interactionally used as two separate “pieces”, rather than as one biclausal constructional gestalt. This format arises in contexts where the it or that in an assessment of the form X is perceived to be referentially indeterminate, as illustrated in (25): (25) able to do that (Chin. dinner, 32 (13.45). John: So that- that was really= that was really nice. hh (0.5) I mean- to be able to do that= Ann: =and you don’t have any bad feelings.
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
Preceding this excerpt, John has just told the others about his having quit smoking. When he says that was really nice (X), he appears to be assessing his having succeeded in stopping smoking as really nice. However, this assessment is not taken up by anyone, and a longish pause ensues, suggesting that John might perceive that his recipients are having referential trouble with his that. So he adds to be able to do that (Y) as a separate prosodic unit, in other words, as an increment,4 making explicit what it was that was nice, and tying it to his assessment in X with dependent infinitival syntax. Couper-Kuhlen and Thompson suggest that it is interactional formats such as this which give rise to the more “syntacticized” construction known as “extraposition”. The following extract, where Mi is talking about her flukish hole-in-one, illustrates a prosodic separation between X and Y which also arises interactionally: (26) Mi: I thought it was so funny, (.)5 that I got this hole-in-one.
Here Mi has been telling about how, though she is not an avid miniature golfer, she recently scored a hole-in-one at miniature golf. Again, she comes to hear her own assessment utterance I thought it was so funny (X) as potentially referentially troublesome, and after a very short pause, she makes explicit what it was that was so funny (Y). These data show that an account of the syntactic biclausal “extraposition” construction must be informed by a consideration of what we might think of as “interactional extraposition”; from this vantage point, we can best understand the “extraposition” construction as a “syntacticized” version (presumably strongly reinforced by the written standard) of “interactional extraposition”, where the X assessment piece comes to strongly project the Y piece naming the assessable. 2.3 Wenn-clauses in German Grammars of German describe a type of subordinate clause that translates into English as either a when-clause or an if-clause, as in this extract from Spoken German (Günthner 1999: 1):6
. For discussion of increments, please refer to Ford et al. (2002) and Ono & Couper-Kuhlen (2007) and references cited there. . Extract (26) is transcribed according to the GAT transcription system (Couper-Kuhlen et al. (1998)). . English glosses and translations of German extracts and English translations of citations are by the authors of the present article.
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
(27) Wenn ich den sehen würde, würde ich ihn direkt if I him see were:to, would I him directly darauf ansprechen about:it speak:to ‘If I were to see him, I would ask him directly about it.’
As (27) illustrates, the word order rule for the subordinate clause – the protasis – is that the finite verb or in this case, the [lexical verb + finite auxiliary] complex is placed at the end of the clause, with the finite element in the absolute final position. The following main clause – the apodosis – has the word order that is normal for main clauses: the finite auxiliary or finite lexical verb follows the first constituent (the “verb second” constraint, often symbolized as “XV word order”). This means that if the main clause is preceded by a dependent clause, as is the case here, the dependent clause counts as the first constituent, and so the first element in the main clause is the finite verb or auxiliary. The “inversion” of the finite verb or auxiliary and subject (here: würde ich) crucially marks the second clause as the apodosis of a tightly integrated syntactic construction. While such syntactically biclausal pairs occur frequently in all kinds of discourse, it is also possible in everyday conversation – but less frequent in the written standard – to follow the conditional clause with a clause that does not display the inversion. In (28) and (29), the clauses that fail to show the inversion required in the standard language are boldfaced: (28) (Günthner 1999: 1) Wenn du luscht hasch und=zeit if you desire have and time wir machen morgen en kindergottesdienst we make tomorrow a children’s:service in der lutherkirche in the Lutheran:church
‘ If you’d like to and have time, tomorrow we’re having a children’s service in the Lutheran church.’
(29) (Günthner 1999: 8) frollein machen se mir ne bloody mary. miss make you for:me a bloody mary und wenn se nich wissen wat dat ist, and if you not know what that is das is tomatensaft mit campari that is tomato:juice with Campari ‘ Miss, fix me a Bloody Mary. And if you don’t know what that is, it’s tomato juice with Campari.’
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
The main clause word order wir machen (instead of machen wir) in (28) and das is (instead of is das) in (29) is evidence that the protasis is not syntactically integrated with the apodosis. Instead, the apodosis is presented as an independent main clause, with independent clause word order. While the phenomenon of main clause word order in the apodosis of a conditional has often been frowned upon as non-standard by German linguists, Günthner (1999) suggests, in an analysis based exclusively on transcribed conversational data, taking the phenomenon seriously. She proposes that: …the statement in the protasis does not contribute to the truth conditions in the apodosis, as is the case in prototypical conditional sentences, but rather presents the conditions under which the following utterance or speech act is relevant to the interlocutor. (Günthner 1999: 5)7
Günthner illustrates her point with extracts such as the following (Günthner 1999: 11–12). The speaker here is arguing that people are by nature active rather than lazy. She has commented that small children are always busy, and now extends her observation to older people: (30) oder wenn man dann sieht was- rentner machen or if one then sees what retirees do oder eh pensionäre; (-) or er pensioners die sind kein bisschen weniger beschäftigt they are no bit less occupied ‘or if you look at what retirees or uh pensioners do, they are not one bit less active.’
The subject-verb pair die sind “they are” identifies the main clause as the unintegrated kind that functions, on this view, to make the relevance of the apodosis apparent to the listener. Günthner’s argument from the German wenn-clause supports our own observations about the supposed biclausality of such English constructions as the pseudocleft and extraposition. The integrated wenn-clause construction, consisting of a tightly organized protasis and apodosis pair linked by subordinate-main clause syntax, can be understood as a syntacticized version of an interactional pattern in which the speaker, in using a wenn-clause, does not set up an if-then condition for
. “… dass die Aussage in der Protasis keinen Beitrag zu den Wahrheitsbedingungen in der Apododis macht – wie bei prototypischen Konditionalsätzen der Fall, – sondern die Bedingungen angibt, under denen die folgende Äusserung bzw. Sprechhandlung für das Gegenüber relevant ist.”
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
the apodosis, but rather invites the listener to interpret the wenn-clause protasis as providing what Günthner describes as relevance, in other words, as providing the evidential or epistemic grounds for claiming the state of affairs in the apodosis.8 By thus reframing syntactic constructions in interactional terms, we more appropriately situate them as rooted in and motivated by the real-time interactional formats that give rise to them (Hopper 2001, 2004; Schegloff 1996). 3. Projection and biclausality An interactionally based examination of such constructions as the English “pseudocleft” and “extraposition” and the use of German wenn calls into question earlier work that constructed explanations involving non-empirical cognitive concepts such as “presupposition”, “focus”, and “movement” operations. What we propose for the grammatical formats we’re considering here is that the initial “pieces”, the wh-clause, the it-clause, and the wenn-clause, must be factored out and recognized as playing a key role in the strategic management of the current talk, rather than simply as parts of syntactic constructions. This role has been discussed by a number of researchers in terms of projection.9 As Auer (2005a: 8–10) puts it, “projection is the adumbration (foreshadowing) of an action by a segment of talk”. The research referred to in note 9 yields a characterization of projection as a complex of expectations, based on our social experience, that become, to varying extents, a property of routines that are repeated frequently. Projection involves what speakers have come to expect about what might happen next, educated guesses, based on massive experience in social interactions, about the courses of social action a given stretch of talk is heading towards performing. Evi dence for projectability is strong. From the literature, we briefly present just one major piece of evidence. Lerner (1991) called attention to a strong piece of evidence for projectability, what has come to be known as “joint utterance production” (Hayashi 2003, 2004; Hayashi & Mori 1998; Helasvuo 2001; Lerner 1991, 1996;
. Such clause combinations have sometimes been discussed as “speech act adverbials”, wherein the adverbial clause motivates not the main clause itself, but the grounds upon which a speaker has the authority to claim the main clause (Thompson & Longacre 1985, Couper-Kuhlen 1996). . See, e.g., Auer 1996, 2005a,b; Couper-Kuhlen 1996, 2004; Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson 2000, 2005; Couper-Kuhlen & Ford 2004; Ford 2000, 2001a,b, 2004; Ford & Thompson 1996; Fox 2001; Hayashi 2003, 2004; Helasvuo 2001; Liddicoat 2004; Ono & Thompson 1995, 1996; Selting 2001; Steensig 2001; Streeck 1995; Szatrowski 2002a,b; Tanaka 1999, 2000a, 2000b; Tao 2003; Thompson & Couper-Kuhlen 2005; and Schulze-Wenck 2005.
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
Ono & Thompson 1996; Szatrowski 2002 a,b.; Tanaka 1999.) Here are two extracts from our data: (31) 1. Lenore: his position is pretty uh, 2. ALINA: ... % (TSK) stable. 3. ... yeah.
Alina has been talking at some length about a mutual friend’s current work situation; in line 1, Lenore is offering a candidate assessment summarizing his position in his company. She hesitates slightly after pretty, suggesting that she is embarking on a word search to complete her assessment. Based on what has transpired in this interaction so far and on her many years of experience with grammatical, prosodic, and social projectability, Alina can easily project how Lenore’s utterance might well end, so she provides a candidate completion, stable, which is grammatically, prosodically, and socially precisely fitted to Lenore’s utterance in line 1. Alina ratifies her own candidate completion to Lenore’s projected candidate assessment in line 3. Lines 1 and 2 constitute, then, what Hayashi terms a “joint utterance production”, a highly frequent practice which obviously relies heavily on projectability. Here is a similar instance: (32)
MILES: ...(H) are they ...teaching ... any more lambada ... at ... uh, JAMIE: ... school? MILES: ... yeah.
Miles poses a question to Jamie, again pausing for an apparent word search. And again, Jamie, projecting what Miles was about to say, furnishes a candidate completion, which Miles then ratifies. Clearly, a number of factors contribute to projectability, including all aspects of context and the intricate understandings the interlocutors have of what social work their talk is doing. But just as clearly, linguistic structure plays a crucial role. In particular, linguistic constructions are important because they are so heavily implicated in projectability. With respect to our argument regarding apparent biclausality, as the research cited in note 9 has demonstrated, projectability is a key property of many biclausal constructions. Our point is that the three constructions we’ve examined here may not be best understood as biclausal. They have typically been analyzed in terms of a a normativized standard which finds minimal instantiation in ordinary talk-in-interaction. Instead, what the grammar of interactional data reveals are quite different types of grammatical patterns, whereby the first part projects not another clause, as has become the norm in more formal varieties of linguistic communication, but a complex of one or more social actions which is typically manifested as a span of talk of indeterminate length. In other words, constructions
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
such as what happens, it’s nice, or wenn du luscht hasch ‘if you’d like to’ are not well-accounted for by assuming them to be first parts of biclausal constructions, but are best accounted for by seeing them as relatively open-slot “prefabs”10 which strongly project certain types of social actions, whose grammatical manifestation takes many different forms and may not be limited to one clause in length (Hopper 2004). As we noted, an important consequence of projection is thus that linguistic structure must be seen as inseparable from its temporal context. The theories of language structure that were developed in the 20th century, and which still underlie some descriptive practices, take as their basis the detemporalization of language (for further discussion, see Hopper 1992; Linell 2005; Schegloff 1996). They seek motivations for constructions in “cognitive” or “pragmatic” factors that can be displayed simultaneously, without reference to the flow of time. Our view of “biclausality” calls into question alleged factors like “presupposition” and “focus” and replaces it with a temporal perspective in which constructions like the pseudocleft, rather than directly reflecting transient cognitive states, are among the routinized resources available to speakers to organize talk in anticipation of upcoming verbal interactions in terms of context, temporality, and strategic online management of interactional contingencies (Auer 2005a, 2005b). Our scrutiny of various grammatical patterns in interactional situations has made it clear that assumptions of “biclausality” may in many instances need to be re-thought. In addition to the grammatical constructions we have highlighted in this paper, whose initial pieces project further talk, a number of other constructions long assumed to consist of two “clauses”, often a “main” and a “subordinate” one, are now being seen to be more revealingly understood as being au fond monoclausal, involving projectability within a clausal unit. For example, several studies have questioned the biclausality of “complement” constructions in everyday conversational language (Englebretson 2003 for Indonesian, Huang 2003 for Mandarin and Kärkkäinen 2004; Thompson 2002; Thompson & Mulac 1991a,b for English). Relative clause patterns have similarly been proposed to profoundly involve “monoclausality”; Englebretson (this volume) persuasively shows that “relative clause” does not adequately capture the role of what has long been analyzed as the “relativizer” yang in Indonesian. Fox and Thompson (2007) and Kidd et al. (2007) have shown that the most frequent English “relative clause constructions” in everyday interactions and in language acquisition in English are highly monoclausal. Relatedly, Ford (1993, 2001a,b, 2004), Couper-Kuhlen (1996), Günthner (1993), and Scheutz (2001) have shown that cause clauses are often used in
.
We adopt this term from Erman and Warren (2000).
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
English and German playing social roles in interaction which necessitates factoring them out as independent syntactic elements apart from a biclausal [main clause/subordinate clause] syntactic construction: English because-clauses are regular formats for extensions of already finished turns in contexts involving trouble with recipiency. In (33), for example, A begins to add a because-clause when a pause has developed at a point where the recipient, R, could have supplied a response: (33) A: .hhh but the thing is, the‑ they might get their (0.2) the project cancelled. → (0.2) → A: because [(they) R: [What this (.) war project?= → A: = Yeah because hhh ABC got bought out? (0.6) A: Did you hear about that?= R: =Yeah, A: .hhh An' that they're real tight wads? (Ford 1993)
After A’s first turn (at the first arrow), R could respond but does not do so immediately. It is after this gap that A begins a because-clause extension of his turn. B overlaps A’s first because with a question, What this war project?, through which he shows that A’s original turn was indeed problematic. Because clauses may thus introduce accounts following turns which, due to the quality of recipient response (or lack of response), might be interpreted as unsuccessful if not appended with some turn extension. Such because-clauses must be considered products of interaction rather than only the products of a single speaker’s syntactic construction. Similarly, based on previous research showing accounts to be regular components of disagreeing turns (Sacks 1987; Pomerantz 1984), because-clauses have also been found to do the specific work of delivering the account portions of disaffiliating responses.11 In (34), in line 4, R delivers a disaffiliative response to A’s question in line 1, and R then provides an account in line 8: (34) 1 A: Did you get your (.) your first pay check from it? 2 (.) 3 A: [at least?
. Studies of Japanese causal connectives has also pointed to interactional functions comparable to those found for English (Ford & Mori 1994 and Mori 1994, 1999).
Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson
4 R: [NO: I won’t get that for a couple weeks yet.= 5 A: Oh, 6 (.) 7 A: [Well 8→R: ['cause it takes a long time. 9 A: At least it's in the bank, 10 (0.5) 11 R: Yeah it will be. 12 (0.4) 13 R: It will be. Ford (1993)
This research thus further supports our point that apparently biclausal constructions (in this case a [main clause/because-clause] syntactic combination) may have properties strongly indicative of an analysis which factors out the apparent “subordinate” clause and recognizes it as an interactional unit of its own, performing a unique social function, and having concomitant prosodic characteristics. In each case, these “subordinate clauses” have become sedimented as pieces of biclausal constructions in more-formal, normative uses of language, but their essence as syntactic units working independently of any fixed syntactic biclausal pair can only be seen with a close examination of their roles in everyday interactional settings. When we consider grammar in the context of social interaction, then, a vastly different picture emerges of its actual nature than that proposed in much current literature. The structural patterns we have been taking to be “syntax”, as manifested in everyday talk, call for a grammatical analysis rooted in an understanding of all the factors underlying the use of language to accomplish social work among real people interacting with each other in real time, informed by lifetimes of experience in social interaction.
4. Conclusions From the research of interactional linguists into the use of three constructions in everyday conversations, two major findings have emerged. First, each of these constructions can be more realistically understood and analyzed in terms of realtime social activities than in terms of more static “information-status” concepts like “presupposition” and “focus”. Second, each of these three constructions, and others like them, are best understood as formulaic pieces deployed by speakers for the purpose of managing interactive discourse. This provides an empirical account for why they are recurrently found with a number of heretofore unnoticed restrictions on the grammatical and prosodic form they take, as well as for their strongly projective properties.
Projectability and clause combining in interaction
Further, and importantly, the data do not support viewing these pieces as degenerate versions of more complex constructions. They support instead quite the opposite view, understanding the constructions of literate language as normativized and extended versions of the formulas of spoken language (Hopper 2001). The constructions of written language manifest greater compactness and a higher degree of syntactic integration than the more fragmentary and paratactic arrangement of spoken utterances. The counterpart in spoken conversation of the strict syntactic biclausality that we take as the norm in grammatical studies is a more or less formulaic segment of speech that serves to project an upcoming region of discourse combined with a subsequent stretch of text of indeterminate length that responds to the projection. The higher degree of syntactic integration that we find in written biclausal constructions can be seen as a reformulation of the [initial formula/projected text] into a [subordinate clause/main clause] pair in conformity to what have evolved as the normative structural requirements of clauses in the written language.
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Paul J. Hopper & Sandra A. Thompson Liddicoat, A.J. 2004. The projectability of turn constructional units and the role of prediction in listening. Discourse Studies 6(4): 449–469. Linell, P. 2005. The Written Language Bias in Linguistics: Its Nature, Origins, and Transformation. London: Routledge. Mori, J. 1994. Functions of the connective datte in Japanese conversation. Japanese/Korean Linguistics 4: 147–163. Mori, J. 1999. Well I may be exaggerating but …: Self-qualifying clauses in negotiating of opinions among Japanese speakers. Human Studies 22: 447–473. Ono, T. & Couper-Kuhlen, E. (Eds). 2007. Turn continuation in cross-linguistic perspective. Special issue of Pragmatics. Ono, T. & Thompson, S.A. 1995. What can conversation tell us about syntax? In Descriptive and Theoretical Modes in the Alternative Linguistics. P.W. Davis (Ed), 213–271. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ono, T. & Thompson, S.A. 1996. Interaction and syntax in the structure of conversational discourse. In Discourse Processing: An Interdisciplinary Perspective, E. Hovy & D. Scott, (Eds), Discourse Processing: An Interdisciplinary Perspective, 67–96. Heidelberg: Springer. Pawley, A. & Syder, F.H. 2000. The one clause at a time hypothesis. In Perspectives on Fluency, H. Riggenbach (Ed), 163–199. Ann Arbor MI: University of Michigan Press. Pomerantz, A. 1984. Agreeing and disagreeing with assessments: Some features found in preferred/dispreferred turn shapes. In Structures of Social Action, J.M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds), 57–101. Cambridge: CUP. Prince, E. 1978. A comparison of WH- and IT clefts in discourse. Language 54: 883–906. Quirk, R., Greenbaum, S., Leech, G & Svartvik, J. 1985. A Comprehensive Grammar of the English language. London: Longman. Sacks, H. 1987. On the preference for agreement and contiguity in sequences in conversation. In Talk and Social Organization, G. Button & J.R.E. Lee (Eds), 54–69. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Schegloff, E.A. 1996. Turn organization: One direction for inquiry into grammar and interaction. In Interaction and Grammar, E. Ochs, E.A. Schegloff & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 52–133. Cambridge: CUP. Scheutz, H. 2001. On causal clause combining: The case of ‘weil’ in spoken German. In Studies in Interactional Linguistics, M. Selting & E. Couper-Kuhlen (Eds), 111–140, Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Schulze-Wenck, S. 2005. Form and function of ‘first verbs’ in talk-in-interaction. In Syntax and lexis in conversation, A. Hakulinen & M. Selting (Eds), 319–348. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Selting, M. 2001. Fragments of units as deviant cases of unit production in conversational talk. In Studies in Interactional Linguistics, M. Selting & E. Couper-Kuhlen (Eds), 229–258. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Sinclair, J.M. 1991. Corpus, Concordance, Collocation. Oxford: OUP. Steensig, J. 2001. Notes on turn-construction methods in Danish and Turkish conversation. In Studies in Interactional Linguistics, M. Selting & E. Couper-Kuhlen (Eds), 259–286. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Streeck, J. 1995. On projection. In Social Intelligence and Interaction, E.N. Goody (Ed), 87–110. Cambridge: CUP. Szatrowski, P. 2002a. Syntactic projectability and co-participant completion in Japanese conversation. Berkeley Linguistics Society 28: 315–326.
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Conjunction and sequenced actions The Estonian complementizer and evidential particle et1 Leelo Keevallik
Uppsala University The usage patterns of the Estonian complementizer et in sequentially embedded actions show that it functions as an evidential particle. In oral as well as Internet interaction, clause-initial et attributes upcoming content to the previous speaker/ writer and thereby incorporates another voice. Clause-combining with et is thus a collaborative achievement of the participants performing sequenced actions in real time. The development of this complementizer and evidential from an original deictic item most probably started in reported speech, where the recurrent repetition of et may have resulted in the incorporation of the last instance into the following clause.
1. Introduction Grammar comes into being in everyday use, where people establish and maintain linguistic formats as solutions to recurrent communicative tasks. Some of these formats get standardized and accepted into literary language. Nevertheless, one of the key loci of the emergence of grammar is mundane interaction between people in natural settings, in which grammatical structures may be affected and motivated by factors that go far beyond those that motivate the production of monologic self-contained literary texts. The factor that is crucial in the use of the Estonian et, which is the subject of this study, is speakers’ need to produce actions that match the ongoing conversational sequences. Et-turns are designed to carry out a certain type of action in specific sequential positions in talk. Their form and function are highly context-dependent. As et is a kind of conjunction/particle, this paper will deal with clause-combining in grammar as implemented in interaction.
. The author is grateful to Lari Kotilainen for comments on an earlier version of this paper. The research was partly supported by the Estonian Science Foundation grant No. 6510.
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There are some difficulties with working on clause-combining in speech. The accumulation of knowledge about spoken varieties, and languages that are mainly used in speech, has led us to wonder whether explicit clause combiners are altogether characteristic of languages with literary traditions. The reason for this might be the heightened attention towards the sentence as the fundamental unit of language in the written varieties (Mithun 1988). In spoken interaction we have a variety of other resources for indicating that clauses belong together, such as prosody and tempo, and in face-to-face situations even bodily actions. However, in languages that have an established literary tradition, the overt clause-combining resources are available for usage even in spoken varieties. The question for these languages is instead that of what the specific communicative needs are that motivate their usage in specific patterns, both in spoken and written varieties. Et has been characterized as a prototypical subordinator in Estonian grammars (e.g., Erelt et al. 1993: 110–112, 1995: 40). The problem of whether and to what extent subordination exists in spoken language has attracted researchers for at least a couple of decades (e.g., Matthiessen & Thompson 1988). In recent years, one of the central areas of subordination research has been complement clauses. Thompson (2002) argues convincingly against analyzing object complements as subordinate. It has also been demonstrated that many phrases that include complement-taking predicates (CTPs) such as I think, I dunno, you know are used as phrases with epistemic or evidential meaning in actual conversations (Kärkkäinen 1998; Scheibman 2000; Keevallik 2003). In other words, they do not function as main clauses that take complements. As part of this pattern, the complementizer that has often disappeared from the adverbial usage of I think and I guess (Thompson & Mulac 1991a,b). The same is valid for informal Estonian, where the complementizer et does not occur with the particle-like usages of the items ma arvan “I think”, tead “you know”, and tähendab “it means” (Keevallik 2003). The complementizer is not even obligatory with the most frequent reporting verb ütle- “say”, where the standard variety demands an overt marking of the complement clause in indirect speech. Colloquially, a mere juxtaposition, very likely in combination with special prosody, achieves the same aim. At the same time, a contrasting phenomenon can be found in some languages, where complementizers, or what have been described as such in grammars, are used much more widely and appear as pragmatic particles or discourse markers without the complement-taking predicates, CTPs (Suzuki 1999; Englebretson 2003; Laury & Seppänen 2004). Estonian et is one of them. This provokes questions about how the particle and the complementizer may have developed and how they have been related to each other in the process. Even when a language has a grammaticalized category of complementation, it may be a mere part of a
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wider clause or action combining pattern at the discourse level. This proposition is especially plausible when the same word is used for both. The current paper focuses on the sequential actions carried out with et in contemporary conversational Estonian, making use of the conversation analytic method (as presented, for example, in Heritage 1984) commonly used in interactional linguistics (e.g., Schegloff et al. 1996). The paper begins with a short overview of how et has been described in Estonian grammar in terms of its capacity to combine clauses into complex sentences and functioning as a complementizer. Then, the paper demonstrates how et combines actions into sequences, functioning as an evidential particle. The conjunction/particle et makes explicit the relation between the upcoming contribution and the preceding discourse, it defines the nature of this contribution, and it even sets up a trajectory for the sequentially next action. The historical crossing point for complementizing and evidential usage most probably lies within the patterns of reported speech, which will therefore receive closer study in the second half of this paper. Synchronic conversational patterns may inform possible patterns of diachronic development. The data for this study comes primarily from my telephone call corpus. It consists of 324 calls of two types: telemarketing calls from a big daily newspaper, and everyday calls between family members, relatives, friends, and colleagues. It includes more than ten hours of conversational language. Additional examples have been used from the publicly available Tartu corpus of Spoken Estonian (http:// www.cl.ut.ee/suuline/), which includes shorter excerpts of talk in a wider variety of situations. Relevant patterns have also been found in literature, newspapers, and in the interactional data on the Internet, especially in the rapid commentaries on online news. The source of data which comes from somewhere other than the primary corpus will be indicated (name of the book or the newspaper, Tartu corpus, Internet). 2. Et as a conjunction In Estonian grammars, et is characterized as an initiator of complement clauses, which serve the grammatical role of the subject or object of a main clause (examples 1a and b respectively). Et can be used with or without the correlating word that formally fills the grammatical role of the complement in the main clause (Erelt et al. 1993: 282–287). The correlate is shown in parenthesis. (1) a. Mull meenus (see), et ta on aige. I:all remind:imf:3sg that that he is ill ‘I remembered that he was ill.’ Lit. ‘That he was ill, was reminded to me.’
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b. Ma kuulsin (seda), et sa oled haige. I hear:imf:3sg that:prt that you:2sg be:2sg ill ‘I heard that you were ill.’ (Erelt et al. 1993)
Additionally, the combination of clause with a correlate + et-clause is used in a number of other syntactic and semantic functions, such as in adverbial clauses (a–c) and predicate clauses (d) (Erelt et al. 1993: 295–311). The correlates, which in these cases are obligatory, have also been boldfaced in the following example (2). (2) a. Ta seisis nii, et ta nägu ma ei näinud. she stood:2sg so that her face:prt I neg see:ppt ‘She stood in such a way that I couldn’t see her face.’ b. Uks avanes sel määral, et tema vahelt door opened:2sg this extent that its between
tuli nähtavale pea. came:2sg to.be.seen head
‘The door opened to the extent that a head could be seen.’
c.
Vaatamata sellele, et aeg oli hiline, ei disregarding this:all that time was late neg
tahtnud keegi lahkuda. want:ppt nobody leave:inf
‘Although it was late nobody wanted to leave.’
d. Kirjutuslaud on sedasi, et istujal jääb vasak desk is so that sitter:abl stay:2sg left
käsi akna poole. hand window:gen toward
‘The desk stands in such a way that the person’s left hand will be close to the window.’ (Erelt et al. 1993)
Correlates express the syntactic role of the following et-clauses. When correlates are used immediately before et, then et is most often prosodically latched to them. Some of these combinations have therefore been grammaticalized into new conjunctions. For example, the frequent usage of nii+et has resulted in a pragmatic particle niet “so”, which initiates summaries and marks a move to the next conversational phase (Keevallik 2000: 345–351). In most cases, however, the development merely involves phonological assimilation and reduction of the prosodic prominence of et, while the pragmatic meaning of the combination has remained the same as it had been for the correlate alone. Examples include sest+et > sestet “because”, where even sest alone means “because”, and selle asemel+et > selmet
Conjunction and sequenced actions
“instead”, where selle asemel means “instead”. (Remmelg 2005: 104). In addition, the formats see+et > seet and seda+et > sedaet are regularly used as turn-initial particles in conversation. These long-term developments suggest that the conjunctive function of et has been widespread for a considerable amount of time even in spoken language. The assimilatory patterns also suggest that et is more closely tied to the correlate than the upcoming clause, which it strongly projects. As we will see below, this is also true for its usage after reporting verbs and before reported speech. Et is prosodically latched onto the preceding reporting verbs. It is thus a conjunction that occurs with grammatically incomplete units of talk such as transitive verbs without objects, reporting verbs without the reported speech, and phrases or clauses with cataphoric correlates. Et occurs at the end of these units and its main function is to project another clause.
3. Et as an evidential Considering the above description from the grammars, it is quite surprising to find Estonian et occurring very frequently in turn-initial positions. All in all I had about 1200 cases of et in my telephone corpus and in about half of these cases it was clear that et was doing something completely different from what is described in grammars based on written language. In most of the turn-initial cases of et, there is simply no main clause in relation to which the et-turn could function as a complement. Turns initiated by et regularly put forward interpretations of or conclusions drawn from the immediately preceding speaker’s speech. A case in point would be example (3), where the telemarketer M produces a candidate reason why client K cannot make any judgements on the newspaper yet. (3) M has asked K whether she has any complaints about the newspaper. 1 K: e:i:: oska praegu midagi öelda. ‘At the moment (I) cannot say anything.’ 2 M: et liiga vähe veel käind jah? ET too short so.far gone yeah ‘Et (you’ve) had (it) too short (a time).’ 3 K: jaa. ‘Yeah.’
The clause in line 2 is syntactically produced as a continuation of the contribution in the previous turn, partly by using the conjunction et but also by no subject
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being stated. The clauses in lines 1 and 2 are overtly combined, and content-wise the one in line 2 is an expansion. This happens across the turns. And since it is K’s contribution that is expanded, she also has to confirm or disconfirm it, which she does in line 3. In a similar example, (4), the client has said that she does not want to subscribe to the newspaper at the moment and the telemarketer continues to ask about the following year in lines 1–3. After the client’s agreement that it is too early to talk about that, the telemarketer suggests that the client subscribes to other periodicals this year (line 6). This suggestion is initiated by et and forms an independent clause. It is an inference from previous talk and serves as a possible excuse for the client’s lack of interest in subscribing to the newspaper offered. The turn in line 6 can be characterized as a B-event, which is “known to the other interlocutor B but not to the speaker A” (Labov & Fanshel 1977: 100), and therefore makes relevant a confirmation or disconfirmation by the interlocutor. In example (4), after an initial brief confirmation, the client puts forward a different reason for not subscribing to newspapers and thereby disconfirms the telemarketer’s suggestion. (4) 1 M: aga järgmiseks aastaks, ‘But for next year?’ 2 K: no = ‘Well’ 3 M: = vara veel muidugi [k ü s i d a.] ‘It’s still too early to ask.’ 4 K: [vara on (veel)] vara jah öelda @präegu. hh veel seda. @ .hh ‘Yeah, it’s too early to say that at the moment’ 5 aga jah, jah, nii ta on. ‘but yeah, that’s the way things are.’ 6 M: .h et sel aastal käivad nagu teised väljaanded teil. = ‘Et this year you subscribe to other periodicals?’ 7 K: = jah, mul:: käivad siin midagi, no ma olen pensionieas inimene ka, ‘Yes, I have something here. You see, I am a pensioner,’ 8 ega mul ei ole ka võimalusi nii hh eriti, ‘I don’t have that many possibilities.’
These turns in examples (3) and (4) are “formulations by news recipients” as Heritage and Watson (1979) called them. In both cases, the telemarketer is the recipient of information produced by the client. Formulations produced by news recipients can be crudely classified as “gists” that express the gist achieved
Conjunction and sequenced actions
thus far in a conversation, and “upshots” that are inferences based on the gists of previous talk (Heritage & Watson 1979: 138). In examples (3) and (4), the etturns are upshots. However, for the usage of et the distinction between gists and upshots is not relevant. In both cases, et can be implemented: see example (5) representing a gist.
(5) The telemarketer has asked the client’s opinion about the newspaper.
1 K: jaa sisukas on küll, (0.2) ja:, ja:, aga vat, .h kohe tüütu. paned laua peale ‘Yeah, (it) has content, but it’s annoying – you put (it) on the table’ 2 liiga suur, viskad pikali (.) e liiga suur, ‘(and it’s) too big, you lie down (and it’s) too big.’ 3 M: et ainuke asi mis teid äirib on siis meie vormaat. ‘Et the only thing that bothers you is our format.’ 4 K: jah, /---/ ‘Yeah.’
What is relevant though, is that this kind of formulation always makes one of the many possible interpretations of the previous utterance or previous conversation explicit: it is an attempt to provide a candidate reading for the preceding stretch of talk. In the above examples (3)–(5) the formulations are produced by the telemarketers, and the formulations thus aim at minimizing critique on the content of the newspaper and blaming more on the circumstances. Et-formulations are thus implemented at certain junctures in conversation for certain social or even institutional aims. This type of formulations by news recipients occasion receptions by the interlocutor(s) in the form of a confirmation or a disconfirmation (Heritage & Watson 1979: 141). The above et-turns are all followed by a turn where the client at least initially confirms the content of the formulation. The grammatical structure of combined clauses is thus created across turns in interaction. Combined clauses are the outcome of the participants performing sequenced actions in real time and they may in turn make a subsequent action relevant. Besides formulations by news recipients, there are other conversational actions in which the content of the turn is a B-event, such as checking questions and repair initiations. Checking questions that are used to check on the correct understanding or hearing of the previous turn, are also regularly put forward with a clause-initial et. A simple example (6) follows, where the news receipt ahaa is implemented at the very beginning of the turn.
(6) The telemarketer has asked whether K wants to subsribe to the newspaper.
1 K: ei kahjuks ei saa, sest me lä- sõidame minema kohe. ‘No, unfortunately we can’t since we’re leaving soon.’
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2 M: ahhaa, et sõidate ära. = ‘Oh, et you’re leaving.’ 3 K: = jah, = ‘Yeah.’
Checking questions may merely repeat or rephrase the main point in the previous turn, like the replacement of sõidame minema with sõidate ära, both “leave”, in example (6). They may also put forward an inference from the previous talk, as in the following example (7). Here, the client has turned down the offer of an immediate subscription. In line 1, she refers to the telemarketer’s offer to call back in December but the syntactic unit remains unfinished. The telemarketer, however, treats the turn as if it were a potential promise to subscribe (rather than, for example, a promise to think it over) by asking the question about the timeframe. The question is formatted as an adverbial phrase in a sentence that never happened. Et in this case thus does not combine clauses. It initiates an interpretive phrasal turn, the content of which has to be confirmed by its implied source, the previous speaker. (7) 1 K: [tähendab] e jah, kui võimalik on, siis me detsembris võibolla tõesti – ‘I mean, yeah, if it’s possible, then maybe in December we really’ – 2 (0.8) 3 M: et järgmiseks [aas]taks. = ‘Et for next year.’
The aim of checking sequences like this is to continuously achieve and update intersubjective understanding between the participants (Heritage 1984: 258–259). For the same reason, the recipients have the opportunity to overtly display misunderstandings or mishearings in mundane interaction. Some types of these otherinitiations of repair (Schegloff et al. 1977: 367–369) may also be carried out by et-turns. The interlocutor is then obliged to repair his utterance, depending on the type of problem indicated in the repair initiation. Et-turns that initiate repair characteristically involve a candidate understanding,2 thus et once again attributes the subsequent content to the previous speaker. In example (8), the trouble source is the pronoun neid “them”.
(8) The speaker E is looking for actors for her play.
1 E: [ja] ma otsin neid kuutõbine [ta]ga. ‘And I’m looking for them like a lunatic.’
.
General next-turn repair initiations, such as what? or huh? cannot be done in an et-turn.
Conjunction and sequenced actions
2 R: [mhmh], ‘Uhuh.’ 3 R: mhmh, ‘Uhuh.’ 4 (0.6) 5 R: et kes võiks te- tulla: (.) tegema ve. ‘Et who could come and play.’ 6 E: mhmh, = ‘Uhuh.’
Et could thus be paraphrased as “(so) you meant”, which looks like a possible cross-linguistic format used to carry out formulations. The Swedish så du me(n)a(r) “so you mean” could serve as an example (Ottesjö & Lindström 2005). In fact, my linguistics students interpreted the above et-turns as elliptical cases of object complements, where the preceding main clauses such as you mean, you’re suggesting or you’re saying have been left unsaid. The students were highly literate and certainly influenced by prescriptive attitudes to language. There is no empirical justification for considering these turns elliptic. However, the students’ reactions reflect the semantic-pragmatic value of turn-initial et, namely its ability to attribute the subsequent content to the previous speaker. Clauses initiated by et are semantically paraphrases, formulations or expansions (Keevallik 2000), and when they form a turn on their own, they paraphrase, formulate or expand what the interlocutor has just been saying. The interlocutor also orients to them as such, because she regularly confirms or disconfirms the content of et-initial turns, whatever the precise interactional function in this particular sequence. Schematically, the conversational sequences could be described as a three-step pattern: 1. Talk by A 2. Et-initial turn with a B-event 3. Confirmation or disconfirmation by A Present-day speakers of Estonian are conscious of this content-attributing pattern, as can be witnessed in its usage on the Internet. The following examples are the very beginnings of online commentaries on newspaper articles. All of them paraphrase the articles or formulate candidate understandings of them. The articles thus function as the previous discourse enabling the writers to provide et-initiated contributions and readers to make sense of these.
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(9) a.
Et peale Tarmo pole ühtegi tagaotsitavat koolilast. ‘Et Tarmo is the only missing schoolchild?’
b. Et autojuhte peaks korrale kutsuma õnnetuste tekitamise eest karistuste suurendamisega? ‘Et the drivers should be disciplined by increasing the punishment for accidents?’ c. Et siis kui paraneb homoöpaatiliste rohtude-raviga, on tegu iseenesliku paranemisega, aga kui tavameditsiini rohtude-raviga, siis avitas tablett ilma mille abita olex surnuks surnud:) ‘Et if she recovers with the help of homeopathic medicine/treatment, then she recovered by herself but if she uses ordinary medicine/treatment, then the pill helped and without it she would have dropped dead.’ (Internet)
The formula ah et “news receipt + ET” has in particular become a regular means of initiating a word-by-word quote of a stretch of immediately preceding discourse. Et functions as an evidential showing that the content of the upcoming talk/text is taken from a previous speaker/writer. The quote itself can consist of a single word (10a), a phrase (10b), or a whole clause (10c–e). Even though et ties the upcoming contribution to previous discourse, it does not only initiate (complement) clauses, as is described in grammars (cf. examples 1, 2 above). It also prefaces contributions of different length ranging from a single word (10a) to a multi-clausal sentence (9c) and in contrast to the above complementizing and correlate-based usage patterns, these contributions are not in a tight syntactic relationship with any previous clause. (10) a.
Ah et missugustega! ‘Ah et which kind!’
b. Ah et lahus elavatelt vanematelt! ‘Ah et from separated parents!’ c.
Ah et ei proovinudki üldse! ‘Ah et (they) didn’t even try!’
d. Ah et ärgu ma kartku! ‘Ah et I shouldn’t be afraid!’ e.
Ah et tahab Eestis avada jäätisekohviku! ‘Ah et (she) wants to open an ice-cream café in Estonia!’
(Internet)
In the argumentative context of written news comments, these exclamatory clauses regularly function as ironic or hostile openings of contradictory contributions, and the author of the original article lacks the possibility of immediate
Conjunction and sequenced actions
confirmation or disconfirmation of the content of the et-contribution. The schema for the implementation of et-initiated contributions in this particular activity is thus the following: 1. Text by A 2. (Ah) et-initial contribution involving a quote or ironic candidate understanding (+ critique of A’s argument) In contrast, conversational usage displays more cooperative implementations of et-turns and the recipient of the turn is expected to confirm or disconfirm the content. The pattern of news receipt + et also occurs in spoken language, followed by a candidate understanding of the received information, in a way similar to examples (3)–(8). In example (11), the news receipt aa (Keevallik 1999) occurs at the beginning of the turn. In line 1, P asks for a comment about a casino (“nest” is an euphemism for “casino”), and after a negative evaluation from his friend, offers a possible reading or reformulation of it in line 3. (11) 1 P: [on] nagu väärt pesa vä. ‘Is it a cool nest?’ 2 T: kooli: värk. h ‘Like a school.’ 3 P: aa, et sa- e see ei ole nagu mingi privaat ä, ‘Aa et it’s not like private.’ 4 T: mm eriti jah mitte. = ‘Not really.’
Et thus indicates that the source of the upcoming contribution is not the current speaker herself or not only herself. It functions as an evidential, encoding how the speaker has come to know or conclude the proposition expressed in the utterance. The speaker has done so, specifically, by hearing or reading it from a previous speaker or writer. These contributions involve multiple voices, combining the voice of the previous speaker/writer and that of the current one. The evidential nature of et is furthermore revealed in instances when it occurs together with a CTP that initiates a report of somebody’s speech or thoughts. In reported speech, the voice of the current speaker and that of the reported speaker are intertwined. This usage of et is especially handy when the quote itself involves several clauses, which can all be initiated by et. In example (12) a single reporting verb and CTP, õiendab “nags”, occasions what could be analyzed as three consecutive object complements initiated by et. (12) 1 S: /---/ .hh Karla vahest ota mis mis sõna peale ta alati õiendab mu kallal ‘Sometimes Karla- which word was it that he always nags me for,’
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2
et (0.3) et ei (0.3) @ ei öelda niimoodi = et, @ (1.2) et kudas sa räägid ‘et (0.3) et (0.3) @ you can’t say that, et @ (1.2) et how are you speaking,’
3
et sa räägid ju valesti, ‘et you speak wrong.’
(Tartu corpus)
The three object complements would be: et ei ei öelda niimoodi et kudas sa räägid et sa räägid ju valesti
‘et you can’t say that’ ‘et how do you speak’ ‘et you speak wrong’
In the last two clauses the pronoun sa “you” addresses the current speaker in the original talk event and thus indicates a continuation of the quote by the character Karla. Other than that, et is the only textual marker of the fact that the quote is continuing. This pattern of consecutive quoted et-clauses is very common in the Estonian conversational data, and does not only occur in cases when the object complements rephrase the same content, as in example (12) above. Example (13) displays a part of a longer story, where the reporting verb ütlen “I say” introduces several clauses that involve temporally consecutive steps in the speech of one of the characters in the reported dialogue. These clauses are designed as continuing the quote via the clause-initial et (as well as the livelier intonation in the quote as opposed to previous talk). (13) 1 K: lähen sis mina sekretäri juurde, ja ütlen et, ee vot et, siuke värk et, ‘I go to the secretary and say et you see et the thing is that’ 2 Clyde Kullil on täna kohtumine, ja et pidi tulema Endro- Enno ‘Clyde Kull has a meeting today and et Enno Paldre from the political’ 3
Paldre poliitikast, aga ta ei saa tulla, et mina tulen tema asemel. ‘department was to come but he can’t make it, et I’ll come instead.’
Et as an evidential marks the continuation of a quote from a character in the narrative, in this case the speaker herself. It is thus not the current speaker at the current moment who is the primary author of the content produced. Et marks the role of the story-teller as the animator, not the author or the principal, to use the famous terms by Goffman (1983: 144–146). The animator is the person whose voice is being used to produce a strip of talk at the current moment, while the person who originally said the reported words is the author. This character in the narrative is also responsible for the action carried out by these words in the original scene, and is thus called the principal.
Conjunction and sequenced actions
When the author and the principal are clear from the context, et can even be used to indicate the beginning of a quote without the CTP (such as “I said” above). In the following telephone call sequence (example 14), E is interrupted by a bystander, Kristi, who wants her to pass a message on to E’s current interlocutor on the telephone. In line 1, E announces that she has been interrupted and after a long pause, she utters a news receipt ah soo, displaying that she has now received the intervening message. E’s subsequent talk is formulated as a quote by the evidential et, which frames the upcoming question as originating from Kristi rather than herself. The basis of this understanding has been laid in previous events, where E in line 1 has accounted for the situation in which Kristi shouted something to her. (14) 1 E: /---/ .hh ota Kristi üüdis midagi, mis sa ütlesid. ‘Wait, Kristi shouted something, what did you say?’ (to the side) 2
(3.2)
3 E: ah soo et, kas sa laupäval saad tulla. ‘Oh et can you come on Saturday?’ 4 P: ei, mm, tead aust öelda ei tahaks saada. ‘No, y’know, to be honest, I wouldn’t want to.’
This practice of initiating a quote with et only can also be found in literary texts. In the following example (15), the author and the principal of the quote leitud “found” and the circumstances of its production are clear from the previous sentence. The character referred to as “the man” in this previous sentence is reinvoked as the author and the principal of the quote in the next sentence. (15) Kui mees aga ühest kastist korraliku juugendtooli leidis, helistas ta teisele professorile, kes just sellist tahtnud oli. Et leitud. (K. Murutar “Ettevaatust, Emma!” 2002, p. 88) ‘But when the man found a great art nouveau chair in a container, he called another professor who had wanted precisely that. Et (it’s) found.’
Et-initial clauses can furthermore be used for the dramatic effect of enacting the voice of the imagined audience. In an argumentative article about the International Women’s Day, the journalist complains about women’s ambivalent feelings towards receiving congratulations and flowers. She then continues by producing a question and a suggestion, as if they came from her audience (example 16), using these et-initiated contributions as strategic means of dramatization in her writing. These contributions invoke other participants and achieve the enactment of an interactive scene in what is otherwise a relatively monologic communicative event.
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(16) Et mis siis teha? Et muudame 8. märtsi meeste- ja naistepäevaks? (K. Vainküla “Vaesed mehed”, SLÕhtuleht 2006-03-08) ‘Et what can (we) do? Et let’s turn the 8th of March into a men’s and women’s day?’
The voice of the audience is invoked entirely by the clause-initial et. This is enabled by the pattern of repeats or partial repeats of other participants’ contributions in et-initiated turns (as was shown in example (6)). The journalist’s et-initial clauses are understood as this kind of echoing of the talk by other participants. In conversational sequences, the quoting capacity of the evidential et is particularly useful at moments when a participant has had problems hearing or grasping a turn, and therefore initiates a repair with a general repair initiator, usually mida? “what?”. The producer of the problematic turn is then expected to redo the original turn. In Estonian conversation, these redone versions of the original turn are regularly prefaced by et, as shown in examples (17)–(19). Et indicates that it is as if the current speaker is quoting his earlier self, invoking the voice of this previous author of the original turn. (17) 1 P: .hh aa, no okei. ega sa homsest midagi ei tea. ‘Oh, okay, do you know anything about tomorrow.’ 2 E: mida. ‘What?’ 3 P: et ega sa homsest ei tea midagi. ‘Et do you know anything about tomorrow?’ (18) 1 E: /---/ kule kas sa rääkisid präegu meie (.) k:oduga või. ‘Listen, did you talk to our home right now.’ 2
(1.0)
3 M: mid[a], ‘What?’ 4 E: [na]tuke aega tagasi. ‘A moment ago.’ 5 M: ütle uuesti. ‘Say (that) again.’ 6 E: et kas sa natuke aega tagasi rääkisid seal meie (.) korterinumbriga või. ‘Et did you talk to our apartment number a moment ago?’ (19) 1 P: ‘Yeah, there is nothing tomorrow, is there?’
Conjunction and sequenced actions
2 K: = mida, ‘What?’ 3 P: et tööpäeviti onju. ‘Et (it’s) on week days, right?’
The repair can include a word-by-word repetition of the first production (as in example (17)), a new version of the same thing with a single replacement of a word (as in example (18), where the original koduga “home-with” is replaced with korterinumbriga “apartment number-with”), or a complete rephrasing (as in example (19)). The whole pattern of these action sequences could be schematically described as: 1. A turn by A 2. A general next turn repair initiator by B 3. Et-initiated repetition or reformulation by A In summary, the Estonian et, which has been characterized in grammars as a subordinator, is in fact an intricate means of carrying out specific social actions in specific positions in interactional sequences. It can even be applied to enact interactivity and to involve multiple voices in written texts. The evidential particle et indicates that the talk which follows is a quote or a formulation of a B-event, and that the speaker is merely the animator of something that has already been said or implied in previous discourse. The original source of the proposition is not the current speaker at the present moment but the interlocutor, a third person, or the speaker herself at an earlier point in time. The reason why this pattern is possible relies partly on the fact that et is used as a general conjunction in spoken discourse (like in Finnish, as described in Hakulinen et al. 2004: 789, Laury & Seppänen 2004). According to this account, et simply marks the continuation of the topic and incorporates the upcoming contribution into a discursive whole. This can explain the pattern of initiating clauses in ongoing quotes as well as the pattern of paraphrasing or formulating a previous speaker or writer’s contribution by prefacing it with et. However, when a speaker repeats her own earlier turn, a writer cites a newspaper article in her comment, and especially when somebody is quoted within a monologic text without a reporting verb, the implementation of et clearly displays its nature as a purely evidential item. Et is different from the other general conjunction in Estonian ja “and”, which cannot function evidentially in any of the patterns described in section 3 or this paper, although ja is otherwise also used to create coherence and discursive wholes. Crucial differences between the two general conjunctions et and ja can be revealed by looking at what the participants do in interaction. For example, the English counterpart of the Estonian ja, and, is used to move on to the next issue on the
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agenda in institutional interaction (Heritage & Sorjonen 1994) or to smooth over grammatical or interactional discontinuities in the discourse (Turk 2004). The Estonian ja seems to work in a similar way. Et, in contrast, is used to produce more of the same, as it initiates different kinds of expansions of previous talk. It also has the capacity to overtly attribute the upcoming content to a previous speaker or writer. The previous speaker or writer could be herself, the interlocutor or a third person, co-present or not. This potential of et does not appear obvious in the more monologic cases where the speaker combines a whole chain of consecutive clauses with et, expanding on her own talk. Instead, we have to look at interactional sequences and find out what gets done in the interactive episodes by implementing an et-prefaced strip of talk. We saw that by using et, the speakers invoked other voices in their talk or writing, building on participants’ previous contributions. Et-prefaced spates of talk occurred in specific sequential context immediately after a contribution or repair-initiation by another speaker and their interactional import was to put forward a B-event or a quote. Some of them regularly made a specific type of next action relevant, a confirmation or a disconfirmation. The et-turns presented in this section of the paper were thus “interactional configurations that link current to just past and just next conversational moves” (Schegloff et al. 1996: 38). Their contribution is crucially dependent on the immediately preceding discourse, and they themselves configure possibilities for future contributions. In this way, interactional sequences disclose essential features of et as an evidential. 4. The development of et and reported speech The two disparate descriptions of et in grammars and in sequences of interaction raise the question of whether and how the usages may be related. Considering the above patterns, it is reasonable to hypothesize that a complementizer formerly used to project clauses has developed into a clause-initial and turn-initial particle in Estonian. This may have happened in those contexts in which there is no need to explain who is saying or thinking whatever is put forward in the talk that follows et, as this is clear from the context or co-text. The pattern reporting verb + et + reported speech may have developed into et + talk whose principal is not the current speaker. On the other hand, it is also possible that the evidential particle et first developed into a complementizer and conjunction in the literary language in Estonian, as happened in the closely related Finnish language (Häkkinen 2004: 136–137; Laury & Seppänen 2004). These options will now briefly be considered. The historical development of the Finnish että is the subject of another chapter in this volume (Laury and Seppänen). Since the functions of että and et are
Conjunction and sequenced actions
reasonably similar in contemporary usage, the historical arguments put forward there are valid even for Estonian.3 The fact that in Estonian there is no trace of the lost final vowel ä in any function, suggests either that there have been parallel identical internal developments in the two languages or that the wide range of functional patterns already existed before the sound change took place. Close language contact is another factor that may have enhanced parallel development.4 To start from as far back as possible, the stem e in et(tä) has been reconstructed in the Uralic protolanguage, which was supposedly spoken about 4000 BC. The meaning of the stem in this protolanguage has been claimed to be “this”, i.e., tämä in Finnish (Häkkinen 2004: 136) or dieser, -e, -es in German (Rédei 1986–91). There is general agreement that e was a pronominal element, but it is obviously very difficult to determine the exact nature of deictic items in a language spoken so far back in time and which was never recorded on video, something that is essential in understanding deictic activity. The t-component (-ttä in Finnish) is a pronominal modal ending and dates from the later Balto-Finnic period (Raun 1982; Mägiste 1982–83; Häkkinen 2004: 136), which lasted until the first centuries AD. The original meaning of et(tä) has thus been claimed to be “in this way, so” (Hakulinen 1968: 64; Häkkinen 2004: 136). With this in mind, Laury and Seppänen (2004) propose three alternative ways in which the conjunction and the particle could have developed: from subjunction to particle, from particle to subjunction, and an option that the particle and the subjunction both originate from their position after verbs of speaking, where et(tä) introduced reported speech. In current usage, it is not by any means always possible to tell the particles and conjunctions apart. Instead, different instances form a continuum from unambiguous conjunctions via paraphrasing usage to clear evidentials. Historically, however, there seems to have been some kind of grammaticalization of a more deictic referential item into something more subjective and textual (a path outlined for English by Traugott 1982). Since the oldest Estonian literary sources
. Interestingly, the two languages seem to have recently become more similar in terms of et-usage. During the last 15 years after Estonian re-independence and the fall of the iron curtain, there contacts between Estonians and Finns have expanded explosively. Lively cross-linguistic communication has most probably caused an increase in the frequency of clause-initial et in Estonian, especially in the function of a very general conjunction, which simply indicates that that the upcoming clause is a continuation of what has been said earlier. This observation is supported by the data in my corpus from 1997/98, where only younger adults use this pattern extensively. In contrast, at the present moment the usage is already widely spread in Estonian broadcasts as well as among the representatives of older generations. .
In colloquial Finnish too, että is frequently shortened into et.
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from the sixteenth century AD display et as a conjunction and complementizer (Ehasalu et al. 1997), it is tempting to consider these forms as primary. In addition, in early written Finnish, the variety of conjunctive functions seems to have been wider than in present-day Finnish (Häkkinen 2004: 137). However, although these early texts were often used in a spoken form, they were not interactional, and we would not expect them to reveal conversational patterns, such as described in section 3 of this paper. Thus, the evidential particle may simply already have developed into a conjunction by the sixteenth century and never show up in written texts. Furthermore, the styles of and aims of writing have varied through history, in terms of formality and interactivity among other things, making historical comparisons difficult. The continuum of more particle-like and more conjunction-like usage of et could easily become more polarized with the rise of literary Estonian. In the case of Finnish, it has even been suggested that the complementizer että developed first in the literary language under the influence of the Swedish att (Häkkinen 2004: 136–137). At that time, Finnish and Estonian were already separate languages and the Swedish influence cannot be considered significant for Estonian to the same extent as for Finnish. Instead, the predominantly German-speaking authors of the first Estonian texts could have been imitating the German dass-pattern. We also know from earlier research that conjunctions in general are more characteristic of written language (Mithun 1988; Laury & Seppänen 2004). Due to the limitations of early historical sources we cannot therefore be sure that the evidential usage was missing in the period that the early writings date from. If the evidential particle in fact came first, we may not have documented support for this in the case of et, but several other particles have certainly developed from deictic elements. What we do not know is whether a deictic item meaning “in this way” can develop into an initiator of reported speech and paraphrases, ending up as an evidential particle. A comprehensive overview of grammaticalization phenomena in the world’s languages presents conjunctions and subjunctions but not particles as possible historical outcomes of the development of demonstrative elements (Heine & Kuteva 2002: 106–116). On the other hand, the reason why we do not find these developments in the literature on grammaticalization may be that the action of initiating paraphrases need not always be considered a part of the grammatical structure of language. It is thus difficult to document and argue for a single path of development for the originally deictic et(tä) into a conjunction and a particle. However, its occurrence after verbs of reporting and before reported speech most probably constitutes a crucial stage in the development (Laury & Seppänen 2004), as both the complementizing and evidential functions are salient there. In this position, et may have become involved in the regular pattern of complementation on the one hand, and closely connected to the following clause on the other.
Conjunction and sequenced actions
It may then have gained its independence from the preceding reporting CTP, and become a clause-initial and turn-initial item. There are at least two problems with this proposal, though. First, in many other documented cases, the complementizer is simply not used after CTPs (Thompson & Mulac 1991a,b; Aijmer 1996; Kärkkäinen 1998; Keevallik 2003), something which is also true of Estonian CTPs. Second, in Finnish & Estonian, et(tä) usually latches prosodically to the preceding CTP. This latching has, for example, resulted in the reporting item ütset, which consists of the third person imperfect form of ütle- “say” and et (Hennoste 2004: 510; also displayed in lines 3 and 5 in example (20) below). There is thus good reason to believe that the complementizer and evidential would rather assimilate to the preceding CTP or disappear altogether. When the reporting verb is not used, the occurrence of the prosodically non-prominent et(tä) should be even more unlikely. Nevertheless, as we have seen, et is often used clause-initially and in contexts without the CTP. To solve this problem, we could hypothesize an earlier state when et(tä) was more prominent, possibly when it was used as a full pronominal adverb meaning “in this way”. This could have protected et(tä) from assimilating and disappearing. Another place to look for possible clues to the reason for its persistence could be the current patterns emerging in the production of reported speech, historically the key site for the development of clause- and turn-initial et(tä). In some previous examples et has already been seen to be repeated at the beginning of consecutive clauses within reported speech (examples 12–13). There is plenty of evidence of this kind of chains of reported clauses in Estonian, such as in example (20). (20) 1 A: pühapäeval käisidki=h, (.) vaatamas sis Kaie oli = ja, (0.5) ja sis = õõ ‘On Sunday they went to visit (her), Kaie was there and Arno and’ 2 Arno = ja, (1.2) käisid ütsid = et = noh (.) oli parem küll juba olnud = et ‘they went there, they said et noh (.) it had been better already, et (0.8)’ 3
(0.8) ee = et aga = et no ikka aige on ja nõrk = et, (.) järgikaeat kedagi ei ole, ‘um et but et no (she) is still sick and weak, et (.) there is no caretaker,’
4 nema oli är toonu sis. siin ’li simmosi < ai:ka [piäniiki lapsii there be-pst such-prt pretty small-pl-prt-clt child-pl-prt and there were like pretty small children too 691 () : [.nff → JS : ku ne *kysys et \kui monta utaret lehmäl o ja because 3pl ask-pst et how many udder-prt cow-ade be and because they asked et how many udders does a cow have/a cow has and 693 kaikkii s’mmo[sii:, et] kuus s’nottii ja*, all-prt such-pl-prt et six say-pass and all kinds of things like that et six they said’
694 IW :
695 ES : aa:[:
696 IW :
[ä(h)h < ]
[eh[h @@]
697 JS : < @[ne oli] kaupunkilapsii, 3pl be-pst city.child-pl-prt ‘they were city kids,’ 698 LP : nii[::, ptcl ‘Yeah,’
In this example, et(tä)-initial quoted utterances occur with the verbs kysyä “to ask” and sanoa “to say” in lines 692 and 693. In line 692, the clause \kui monta utaret lehmäl o “how many udders does a cow have/a cow has” occurs immediately after the reporting clause ne *kysys et “they asked et”. This looks like a very typical case of complementation; “to ask” is a typical complement-taking predicate, and et could be said to function as a complementizer here. However, the clause that follows et is not morphosyntactically integrated into its “main clause”, making its status as a subordinate clause questionable. At the very least, että-clauses place at the most unintegrated end of the complement clause continuum from a typological point of view (Givón 1990: see Laury 2006 for more detailed argumentation on this point). Namely, the CTP and the verb in the ettäclause are not co-lexicalized, the subject of the että-clause is not case-marked as an argument of the CTP, and the verb in the että-clause is finite. Furthermore, the clause that follows et would be a perfectly fine main clause by itself. It is, in fact,
Ritva Laury & Eeva-Leena Seppänen
ambiguous as to whether it is meant as a direct or an indirect quote, as indicated by the gloss in the paragraph above. This is true of Finnish indirect questions in general (Kuiri 1984). When Finnish questions follow a reporting phrase, they are not in any way morphosyntactically modified to indicate their now “subordinate” status. Further, prosodically, et groups here with the verb, and not the clause that follows; there is a noticeable drop in fundamental frequency after et (for a similar tendency for the Estonian et, which may have progressed even further along this path, see Keevallik 2000, 2003, this volume). This indicates that et is not included within the clause it precedes, as complementizers are syntactically thought to be, but is better analyzed as forming an epistemic/evidential phrase with the verb it follows, within which it functions more as a boundary signal (Routarinne 2005: 97)2 rather than functioning as a subordinator within the clause that follows. We take the lack of syntactic integration of the että-clause into the preceding CTP, as well as the prosodic separation of että from the clause that follows it, as an indication that at least these kinds of että-clauses are not subordinate, and do not function as complements of the CTP. However, it is important to note that et does function here to link two clauses. As conjunctions typically do, it projects something else (typically, but not necessarily, a clause) to follow (see also Koivisto 2006: 22–32; on the concept of projection, see also Auer 2005). In that sense, että is certainly a conjunction, although not, we suggest, a subordinating one. It is also important to note that the constituent that follows että does not need to be a clause. One possible example of this can be seen in line 693, where että is followed by the numeral kuus “six” and then the passive past tense verb sanottii “(they) said; it was said”. In fact, this construction could be analyzed in a number of ways. For one thing, et kuus sanottii “et they said six” could be meant as an example of the types of things that happened on the program, projected by the phrase ja kaikkii s’mmosii:, “and all (kinds of things) like that”. In that case, the whole phrase would be translatable as “and all kinds of things like that, that they said six”, where the et-phrase would be a complement of the adjectival pronoun s’mmosii “such things”. On the other hand, et kuus “et six” could be analyzed as a quote, where kuus “six” is preceded by the conjunction et linking it to the following speech act verb s’nottii “it was said”. In that case, the sequence ja kaikkii simmosii “and all (kinds of things) like that” only projects backward, indicating that the question about the number of a cow’s udders is only an example of the kinds of things asked by the children, and the sequence et kuus sanottii “et six they said” reports the answer, kuus “six”, that
. Much the same comment was made by Wally Chafe and Robert Englebretson; their impression was that että seemed to function like a punctuation mark.
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was given to the inquiry. In the latter case, we could say we have an et-complement preceding its CTP, something that at least clausal et-complements have been said to be unlikely to do (Korhonen 1993: 19). This et, furthermore, would precede a non-clausal constituent, a mere NP, kuus “six”. This is another feature of että which is uncharacteristic of subordinating conjunctions (Hakulinen & Karlsson 1979: 86). A third possibility is that et is an epistemic/evidential particle here, indexing that what JS is saying is something that she heard on TV, not her own thought or idea. This is a typical function of the utterance-initial particle et. The prosody here supports this analysis, since et is here prosodically initial to the phrase it precedes, and not a part of the phrase it follows. In that case, kuus would be a quote followed by a reporting phrase, sanottii. Complement clauses are normally considered to function as arguments (subjects and objects) of the main clause predicate (see for instance, Noonan 1985: 42; on the low transitivity of say-verbs crosslinguistically, see Munro 1982). However, NP constituents following että do not function as objects of the preceding CTP in the same way that NP constituents following a CTP directly (without a linking että) do either syntactically, semantically or pragmatically. Consider the (constructed) pair of example sentences below. (2) a.
Hän sanoi saman asian kahdesti. 3sg say-pst same-acc thing-acc twice ‘S/he said the same thing twice.’
b. Hän sanoi että sama(n) asia(n) kahdesti 3sg say-pst että same(-acc) thing(-acc) twice ‘S/he said että the same thing twice.’
These examples show that while NP objects of CTPs are case-marked for their syntactic role, NPs following että are not so case-marked.3 Thus, in example (2a), the accusative case on the NP saman asian “the same thing” marks it as an object of the verb sanoi “said”. However, in example (2b), the accusative case is not due to the rection of the verb sanoi. The NP, as shown, could be nominative as well, or it could in principle be in any case, depending on the preceding context. The semantic interpretation is also completely different. The sentence in Example (2a) expresses
. The observant reader may note that although we mention the possibility that in line 693 of example (1) , kuus ‘six’ is a direct (object) complement of sanottii ‘said’, while et functions as a particle or a complementizer projected by the pronominal adjective semmone ‘such’, kuus is not case-marked. Case-marking cannot be an argument here for two reasons: objects of passive voice verbs are zero-marked (nominative), and numerals are also zero-marked as objects. In any case, in line 693, kuus would more likely be a direct quote unmediated by et, indexed as such only prosodically.
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the proposition that the same thing was said two times, while the sentence in (2b) reports the words of someone who is claimed to have said something like “the same thing twice”. In other words, unlike (2a), (2b) reports the words of another speaker; että does the crucial work of indexing the introduction of another voice.4 Pragmatically, 2a does not rely on its interpretation on preceding context in the same manner as 2b, the interpretation of which is entirely dependent on preceding context. We are not able to know what was done or said or occurred, or should be done or said or should occur twice on the basis of just this sentence in isolation.5 These examples also demonstrate that, although one might suspect so at first, the speech act verb and its subject do not themselves do the same evidential work that että does; their functions may overlap in that each serves to introduce another voice to the conversation, but they are not identical in terms of function. Interactionally, että functions in example (1), as well as in (2b) with or without the CTP, to regulate footing by keeping it open (Goffman 1981); it indexes the current speaker’s alignment with what is being said by suggesting that she or he is not the original source of the current utterance. In that sense, että functions independently to introduce another voice, distinct from the voice of the current speaker, into the conversation. In example (1), by using että, JS is indexing her status as an animator, not a principal or an author; she is marking her utterances as something someone else, not she herself, had said earlier. In this section of the paper we have seen that although että-clauses occur in syntactic environments that could be, and have been, characterized as typical cases of complementation, such että-clauses are at most at the non-integrated end of the continuum of complement clauses from a typological point of view. They do not manifest any morphosyntactic features of subordination, and may thus not be best described as subordinate at all. The prosodic behavior of että, as well as the fact that it can precede non-clausal constituents, also lead us to question its status as a complementizer. Even in its use after a CTP, että appears to function as a boundary signal and a forward-projecting element which, together with the CTP, functions as an epistemic/evidential phrase rather than a proper complementizer.
. We do not mean to imply that että is necessary before direct quotes in Finnish. Direct quotes can be indexed, for example, with prosody (see Routarinne 2005). We are proposing here that että-clauses are not objects in the sense that NP objects of CTPs are, and we are also proposing that että (like prosody) indexes the introduction of another voice into the conversation. . Another way of putting this is to say that quotes have their own illocutionary force (see Etxepare, this volume).
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4.2 Että as an utterance-initial particle Next we will look at cases in our data where että functions more like a particle rather than a conjunction. Our next example is a direct continuation of Example (1).
(3) Farmaseutit
699 JS : .hh ja sit siin oli just et kysyttii >kui pal< and then there was just et ask-pass-pst how much ‘and then there was just et (they) asked how many 700 vuahii on suomes:. goat-pl-prt be Finland-ine goats there are in Finland’ (0.3) 701 LP : .hnii[: ptcl ‘Yeah.’ → JS : [ja: tot’ s’nottii et >ei niit o ku noin< and um say-pass-pst et neg 3pl-prt be ptC so ‘and they said et there are only about 703 tuhatkakssataa et sais olla paljon en:emp et se o thousand-two-hundred et should be-1inf much more et 3sg be twelve hundred et there could be many more et it is 704 nii vaatimaton eläin, so undemanding animal such an undemanding animal,’ 705 LP : nii:: ptcl ‘Yeah.’ → JS : ja semmone et se tykkää olla yksi >et se on kuulemma and such et 3sg like be-1inf alone et 3sg be apparently ‘and such et it likes to be alone et it is apparently 707 niin< kade. so jealous so jealous.’ 708 LP : jaaha = ptcl ‘I see.’
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709 JS : = et se o mialumi yksin. = et 3sg be preferably alone ‘et it prefers to be alone.’ 710 EK : => vuahi vai miäleläs et se o< hyvi miäleläs with preferably et 3sg be very preferably being with others et it prefers to be alone,’ (0.3)
yksi, alone
714 EK : mh[y?,
This example contains several uses of et. In line 702, et follows a CTP s’nottii “say-pass-pst”, and a quote follows. In lines 706 and 711, et/tei follows semmone “such”; here, the että-clauses which follow could be analyzed as complements in an AdjP (NP?)6 headed by a pronominal adjective. However, most of the uses of et in this excerpt are not preceded by a CTP or any other complement-taking construction; this is true of et in lines 699, 703, the second use in line 706, in line 709, the first use in 711, and in line 713. Below, we will discuss each use type in more detail. It is possible that in the case of these last uses of et, which are not directly preceded by a CTP, the earlier verbs of saying and uses of semmone are still in the discourse model. In that case, should we say that että functions here to link the clauses that follow it to the CTPs and pronominal adjectives which occurred some clauses or even turns earlier? In other words, could uses of et which are not preceded by a CTP still function as conjunctions? Or do the phrases consisting of verbs of saying followed by et, as well as the uses of semmone et function as epistemic/evidential framing phrases which open a space within which a series of utterances with the same footing can be added using the clause-initial particle et? It seems more reasonable to say that et-initial utterances in this example form a loose chain of clauses all done with the same footing, rather than to say that they are syntactically linked . Semmonen functions as both an adjective and a (pro)nominal element. In general, the borderline between adjectives and nouns is not clearcut in Finnish.
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as complements at a distance to the CTP or other complement-taking construction that occurred several clauses prior. In any case, the linking work että is doing here is less syntactic than it is in those clause complexes where it immediately follows a CTP. In that sense, että can be seen as being simultaneously forward- and backward projecting (cf. Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson 2008). In these uses, it can be said to project backward to the framing phrase which preceded it, while it also (in the same way as we have suggested conjunction uses of että do) projects forward to the reported speech which follows it. We wish to stress that in all these examples, et(tä) functions evidentially, to regulate footing by indexing the participant status of the current speaker as an animator and not the principal or author of what is being said.
(4)
→ JS : [ja: tot’ s’nottii et >ei niit o and um say-pass-pst et neg 3pl-prt be ‘and they said et there are only about
ku noin< ptC so
703 tuhatkakssataa et sais olla paljon en:emp et se o thousand-two-hundred et should be-1inf much more et 3sg be twelve hundred et there could be many more et it is 704 nii vaatimaton eläin, so undemanding animal such an undemanding animal,’
In example (4), line 702, et follows the passive s’nottii “(they) said”. Here, just as in example (1), et is prosodically grouped with the CTP , and thus not a complementizer within the clause that follows, and the quote that follows is not in any way morphosyntactically marked as subordinate. This et-clause is then followed by two more et-clauses in lines 703–704. It is clear that these two et-clauses are not complements in the immediately preceding clauses, since neither of the clauses that precede them contains a CTP. The question would then be whether että functions here to join the clauses it precedes to the CTP across the intervening clauses. That is, et in lines 703 and 704 could be analyzed as a conjunction if conjunctions can form loose, recurring links several times over to the same preceding main clause; in other words, if complement clauses could be coordinated or “stacked” with one another.7 This is at least semantically a reasonable analysis for the first et-clause
. This would involve either analyzing että as a coordinating conjunction, or analyzing successive että-clauses as being coordinated without any (overt) coordinator. Such an analysis of relative clauses has been made by de Vries (2006), but no such analysis of complement clauses has, to our knowledge, appeared as yet.
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in line 703. It is plausible that the link between that clause, sais olla paljon enemp “there could be many more” is to the reporting clause ja tot’ s’nottii “and um they said” in line 702, and not so much to the immediately preceding clause. However, that clause does also depend for its interpretation on the clause just preceding it, ei niit o ku noin tuhatkakssataa “there are only about twelve hundred of them”, in the sense that the quantifier phrase paljon enemp “much more” relies for its interpretation on the numeral in the preceding clause. There is an even more important logical connection between the next et-clause, se o nii vaatimaton eläin “it’s such an undemanding animal” and the clause that precedes it, sais olla paljon enemp “there could be many more”, since the undemanding nature of the animal could be seen a reason for the desirability of having more goats. However, the sequence s’nottii et se on nii vaatimaton eläin “they said it’s such an undemanding animal” is also a possible one. Therefore, in lines 703–704, et could be analyzed as providing a backwardprojecting link to the CTP across one or more intervening clauses, as well as a boundary signal between the successive clauses produced with the same footing. But in these uses, et comes closer to being a conjunction-particle hybrid which is not immediately preceded by any CTP, and which not only provides a boundary signal between successive clauses but also regulates interaction on the level of footing, in addition to projecting something to follow. By using et(tä), the speaker indicates that what follows is a quote, and that the speaker is not the principal (or author), only the animator (Goffman 1981), transmitting information and stance heard from someone else. Just as in its clear conjunction uses, the meaning of et is evidential; the responsibility for what is said lies elsewhere (Keevallik 2000, this volume).8 In example (5), JS continues her report of the TV-show; the conjunction ja “and” in line 706 coordinates what follows with the preceding predicate nominal in line 704.
(5)
702 JS : [ja: tot’ s’nottii et >ei niit o ku noin< and um say-pass-pst et neg 3pl-prt be ptC so ‘and they said et there are only about 703 tuhatkakssataa et sais olla paljon en:emp et se o thousand-two-hundred et should be-1inf much more et 3sg be twelve hundred et there could be many more et it is
. The verb-initial word order in both the first et-clause in line 702 and in the second one in line 703 can be considered unusual, and may also function indexically, to mark the footing as one in which the animator is neither the principal nor the author
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704 nii vaatimaton eläin, so undemanding animal such an undemanding animal,’ 705 LP : nii:: ptcl ‘Yeah.’ → JS : ja semmone et se tykkää olla yksi >et se on kuulemma and such et 3sg like be-1inf alone et 3sg be apparently ‘and such et it likes to be alone et it is apparently 707 niin< kade. so jealous so jealous.’ 708 LP : jaaha= ptcl ‘I see.’ → JS : =et se o mialumi yksin. = et 3sg be preferably alone ‘et it prefers to be alone.’ 710 EK : => vuahi vaimiäleläs et se o< hyvi miäleläs yksi, with preferably et 3sg be very preferably alone being with others et it prefers to be alone,’
The first use of et in line 706 could be analyzed as a conjunction use, and the clause as a complement of the pronominal adjective semmone “such”. – But now et begins to recur again: we shall focus on the second use in line 706 and the initial uses in lines 709 and 711. The use of et here is very similar to what we saw in example (4). In both examples, the initial use of et, prosodically bound with a forward-projecting verbal or nominal element, functions as a framing element which opens a space in which quoted narration or description can be continued with additional et-initial clauses. Here as well, et-initial utterances form a loose
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chain of not so much syntactically embedded complements but rather elements in a larger, discursive whole. The second et in line 706 precedes a clause done with the same footing as the clause before it. If et functions here as a complementizer, then the clause would be a (second) complement of the preceding ADJP semmone “such”. However, here that does not make sense semantically and pragmatically. Although the preceding etclause is well integrated semantically with semmonen, resulting in a sequence glossable as “it is such [an animal] that it likes to be alone”, the sequence “it is such [an animal] that it is apparently so jealous” is not reasonable, given the meaning of the previous clause. The adverb niin “so” modifying the adjective kade “jealous” also supports this interpretation. Rather than being another, parallel description of the kind of animal a goat is, the second et-clause is semantically a justification of the proposition in the previous clause “it likes to be alone because it is apparently so jealous”. In a way very similar to the sequence of clauses in line 703, analyzed in the discussion of example (4), the connecting et leaves the logical relation implicit, and in that sense leaves JS free of the responsibility, something that is consistent with the pragmatic and evidential function of että, which has to do with indexing that the speaker is only quoting someone else, not expressing her own thoughts, ideas or opinions. The initial uses of että in line 709 and especially in line 711 come even closer to being particle uses of että, for both sequential and syntactic reasons. The initial et in line 709 is the initial element in its utterance, produced after LP’s response particle, and in that sense alone, it could be considered a particle. However, this clause is also designed so that it is a reasonable continuation to JS’s previous utterance in line 707, resulting in a sequence et se on kuulema niin kade et se on mialumi yksin “it’s apparently so jealous that it prefers to be alone”. The et-clause could also be analyzed as an increment (Ford, Fox & Thompson 2002). Although JS has now been describing the nature of goats for quite a while, there has been very little uptake from other participants. She has come to a possible transition relevance point at the end of line 703: her turn is syntactically, semantically, and interactionally complete (Ford, Fox & Thompson 2002: 16; Fox & Thompson 1996). However, LP does not take a full turn; all she does is produce a response particle. For that reason, JS’s et-initial utterance could be considered a move to provide another transition relevance place. JS could be making the et-initial clause fit syntactically with her previous utterance by reanalyzing the adverb niin as a forward-projecting element, and the following et-clause in line 709 as its complement, while it has a backward projecting function at the end of line 707, given its connection to what precedes in line 706 (“it likes to be alone, it’s apparently so jealous”). Thus, although it is particle-like in terms of its utterance-initial position, this use of että is also indeterminate between what we think of as conjunctions and what we think of as particles.
Clause combining, interaction, evidentiality, participation structure
The use of et in line 711 is the most purely particle-like use of et in our excerpt. It comes after JS’s particle response nii “yeah” to EK’s (somewhat surprising) question whether it is goats JS is talking about. A brief pause follows, and JS then produces an utterance with an initial et. It would be difficult to argue that this et-clause is designed as a complement of the closest possible CTP, semmonen in line 706, since et here is immediately followed by another use of semmonen; JS would then be saying, effectively, se on semmone et se on semmone ettei se sopeudu toiste kans miäleläs “it is such that it is such that it doesn’t like to get used to being with others”. Instead, this use of et appears to be a pure particle use, indexing the footing of the utterance. In terms of footing, this use comes close to another typical use of että, its use in summaries, explanations and candidate understandings of what has been said before in the same conversation (see Raussi 1992; Koivisto 2006; Seppänen and Laury 2007; Keevallik, this volume). JS is here stating what she takes to be the gist of what she had learned about goats on TV. At the same time, the utterance repeats the same fact that she has already reported twice just previously, in lines 706 and 799, namely that goats are solitary animals. In that way, the distinction between introducing another voice to the conversation, or maintaining a footing as an animator, and quoting oneself, blurs and perhaps disappears altogether. The particle et here has a dual function. On the one hand, it can be said to be continuing the same footing which JS has opened in the beginning of the excerpt; she is reporting what she has heard on television earlier. And on the other hand, she is also summarizing what she has said, and explaining the upshot of her report by repeating what she takes to be the main point. The utterance is multiply dialogic. It projects backward to another speech event, which JS had seen on television and is now telling about, and it also projects backward to the present telling itself, summarizing it, and in that sense, reporting or referring back to what JS herself has just said. The question we want to raise on the basis of these examples is: what is it that makes this kind of chaining possible? Is it the particle nature and the interactional/evidential function of et that allows loose linking of this sort? And, could we find here the path to the grammaticalization of että from a demonstrative into a particle and a conjunction? 5. G rammaticalization of että into a conjunction and a discourse particle We have seen above that in conversational discourse, että functions simultaneously as a backward projecting element on the level of discourse (it marks the following utterance as something that has been said previously) and forward projecting
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element on the level of syntax (it projects something else to follow), while also regulating interaction on the level of footing and participation. We have tried to show that että-clauses are not best analyzed as complements of the CTPs that they follow, and that et is not only a conjunction on a strictly syntactic level, but that it also links loose chains of utterances done with the same footing, and occurs utterance-initially as a particle as well.9 We have also seen that the conjuction use and the particle use are not strictly distinguishable, since et often has qualities of both. What connects these two use types is that both the particle and the combination of a speech act verb and että function evidentially, on the level of interaction, to regulate footing and participation. This raises questions about the developmental path of the conjunction and the particle. Historically, että has been assumed to have originated from the demonstrative stem e- “this” which would have developed into an adverb “thus” through a regular derivational process (L. Hakulinen 1979: 74; Häkkinen 2004: 136; see also Keevallik, this volume;). The proposed path of development would thus be analogous to development of complementizers in many other languages such as English, German, Welsh, Accadian and Nahuatl (Heine & Kuteva 2002: 106–107). According to this account, the complementizer use of että would have originated from constructions with the meaning “(s)he spoke (thought, believed) thus”. Such a development would involve a process of grammaticalization in which the referential-indexical demonstrative stem e- “this” referring to the language-external world would have become a manner adverb että which would have meant “in this way; like this; thus”; this development would involve a decrease in referentiality, since instead of referring to an entity, että (or, more properly, its ancestor) would have become a modal element. In such a development, että would then have gained a discourse-deictic use; instead of referring to the language-external world, it would now refer to the language-internal world, “pointing” to a part of the ongoing speech. Such a meaning would be required in the use of että with verbs of saying followed by a direct quote in constructions meaning roughly “s/he spoke thus” followed by a direct quote. This would involve a further loss of referentiality; in conjunction and particle use, että would express a relation of (parts of) utterances to one another. This would also involve subjectification, a process in which a lexical element loses its ability to refer to the
. For many further examples of particle uses of et(tä), see Raussi (1992), Koivisto (2006), as well as Seppänen & Laury (2007). These studies show that et(tä) is also frequently used in spoken Finnish as an utterance- and turn-initial partice without any preceding CTP to which the että-initial utterance or turn could be linked, as well as an utterance- and turn-final particle without any following clause.
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language-external world, but retains its ability to regulate interaction as an index which expresses a speaker’s subjective alignment toward an utterance (epistemicity/evidentiality) and also intersubjectification in that the element also regulates footing by admitting voices/authors/principals other than the current speaker (cf. Traugott 2003). However, the question now arises regarding the timing of the development from a demonstrative adverb meaning something like “in this way” into a conjunction and a particle with epistemic/evidential meaning. There are several arguments for the conjunction-first development: a potentially persuasive argument is that similar developments have been reported in many other languages. The initial use in contexts where the demonstrative adverb was used with speech act verbs, and then acquired evidential-epistemic meaning in these contexts is easy to imagine and motivate – grammaticalization is normally thought to occur in constructions, and the syntactization of a formerly independent element, typical of grammaticalization processes, is easy to understand in these constructions. On the other hand, on the basis of spoken language data, it is not self-evident that the use with a speech act verb or other CTP is subordinating. Instead, että seems to form an epistemic phrase with the CTP; these types of constructions typically develop into epistemic particles and phrases (e.g., Suzuki 1999; Okamoto 1995 for Japanese; Keevallik 2000, 2003 for Estonian; Thompson 2002, Kärkkäinen 2003 for English). In other words, the prosodic pattern and the latching of the complementizer to the preceding speech act verb, or even its disappearance in such phrases, can be seen as a diachronic process of grammaticalization. But there are also arguments for a development where the particle use would have emerged first. It has been suggested that subordination is more typical of written than spoken language (e.g., Fernandez-Vest 2003), and Häkkinen times the development of että into an “abstract conjunction (2004: 136)” within the period during which written literary Finnish developed, based on the model provided by the phonetically similar Swedish att “that”. In early written Finnish in the 16th century, että still had a much more diverse clause linking function: it functioned temporally, causally and concessively (Häkkinen 2004: 137). It is thus possible that the particle function developed directly based on the discourse deictic “thus, in this way” meaning, and was then recruited into varied conjunction uses possibly not until the advent of written language. Other discourse particles are known to have developed from demonstratives (e.g., Fernandez-Vest 2003; Laitinen 2002; Sorjonen 2001). Even prior to the development of the conjunction function, että could have developed into an epistemic/evidential particle which preceded paraphrases, quotes and other expressions of stance and functioned to regulate interaction on the level of footing, much in the way that the English thus functions even in written language, and the way that että is used in spoken Finnish to precede
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paraphrases and candidate understandings, in a sense, consquences and conclusions based on and drawn from prior speech. It is also possible that both uses originated in the same context, where että combined a speech act verb with a direct quote. If this is the context where the conjunction function developed, it could also be also the context where the evidential function developed. “S/he said että” is a context where a speech act verb is linked to a quoted utterance and where the speaker expresses that what follows is not his/her own words; hence, an epistemic phrase freeing the speaker of responsibility for what is said. If this is the initial locus of change, then it is possible to see how the demonstrative would have become syntactized and developed from a referential indexical into a purely indexical element, functioning both as a particle and a conjunction. 6. Conclusion This paper has concerned the use of the Finnish että in ordinary conversational interaction. Looking at the issue from the point of view of the crosslinguistically established traditional grammatical categories of conjunction and particle, as we have done here, it appears that the Finnish että is used in two different ways, although the use types are not strictly separable. In other words, we could say that että manifests features of a conjunction in some of its uses, while other uses have the features of a particle, and some of the uses have features of both. However, if we begin with the use of että in conversation and observe closely the semantic, pragmatic, syntactic and prosodic contexts in which it is used, the picture that emerges is slightly different. Now we see that the uses of että in our data resemble each other to a great degree in terms of their semantics and pragmatics. In all its uses in our data, että indexes footing; specifically, speakers in our data use it to indicate that, as aptly put by Keevallik (this volume) for the Estonian et, the current speaker at the current time is not the author of the words she is about to produce. In that sense, että is always dialogic in nature: it precedes reported speech or thought, or, in Jakobson’s (1971) terms, duplex signs, messages about a message. In all its uses, että projects forward: it leads the participants to expect more talk. In some of its uses in our data, että forms part of an expression which codes an author or principal of the upcoming talk, and the type of speech act or mental process involved (what we are used to calling “reporting phrases”). In these evidentially explicit expressions, että is prosodically bound to the evidential expression. In other uses, että stands alone in indexing a shift in footing, and in these uses, it is initial in a turn or an utterance and prosodically a part of the expression containing the reported
Clause combining, interaction, evidentiality, participation structure
speech or thought. In these uses, it is more strongly backward projecting, as it can be taken to indicate that the current utterance is being produced with the same footing as previous utterances, or is a summary or explanation prior talk. In this way, että can be seen to be doing linking work on two different levels: in uses where it is prosodically bound to a reporting phrase, it links, or signals the border of two clauses, while in uses where it is initial in a turn or an utterance, it links further back to a preceding epistemic phrase or to a previous utterance in the same conversation. The syntactic and prosodic differences in the use of että can be seen as indexing, and in fact emerging from, differences in the scope of the linking, from the different uses that speakers put että to in ordinary interaction. In that sense, the question of which use originally developed from which may in fact be moot.
Transcription and glossing symbols . falling intonation , level or slightly falling intonation ? rising intonation here emphasis : lengthening of the sound > < talk inside is done with a faster pace than the surrounding talk hh audible exhalation .hh audible inhalation @ laughter syllabe (e.g., ‘ha’) (0.3) silences timed in tenths of a second (.) silence shorter than 0.2 seconds = no silence between two adjacent utterances [ utterances starting simultaneously ] point where overlapping talk stops ( ) talk not discernible (( )) transcriber’s comments acc ade clt det gen ine inf
accusative adessive clitic determiner genitive inessive infinitive
Ritva Laury & Eeva-Leena Seppänen
neg pass pl pst prt ptcl sg
negation passive plural past partitive particle singular
References Auer, P. 2005. Projection in interaction and projection in grammar. Text 25(1): 7–36. Bakhtin, M.M. 1987 [1953]. The problem of speech genres. In Speech Genres and Other Late Essays, C. Emerson & M. Holquist (Eds), 60–102. Austin TX: University of Texas Press. Couper-Kuhlen, E. & Thompson, S.A. 2008. On assessing situations and events in conversation: English ‘Extraposition’ and its relatives. Discourse Studies 10: 4. Cumming, S. & Ono, T. 1997. Discourse and grammar. In Discourse as Structure and Process, Teun van Dijk (Ed.), 112–137. London: Blackwell. Du Bois, J.W. 2001. Towards a dialogic syntax. Ms, Department of Linguistics, University of California, Santa Barbara. Englebretson, R. 2003. Searching for Structure: The Problem of Complementation in Colloquial Indonesian Conversation [Studies in Discourse and Grammar 13]. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Fernandez-Vest, M.M.J. 2003. Are discourse particles (DIPs) peripheral to Syntax? Paper presented at the conference Syntactic Functions – Focus on the Periphery. Nov. 14.–15., Helsinki. Ford, C.E., Fox, B.A. & Thompson, S.A. 2002. Constituency and the grammar of turn increments. In The Language of Turn and Sequence, C.E. Ford, B.A. Fox & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 14–38. [Oxford Studies in Sociolinguistics.] Oxford: OUP. Fox, B.A. & Thompson, S.A. 1996. Interactional units in conversation: Syntactic, intonational and pragmatic resources for the management of turns. In Interaction and Grammar [Studies in Interactional Sociolinguistics 13], E. Ochs, E.A. Schegloff & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 133–184. Cambridge: CUP. Givón, T. 1983. Syntax: A Functional-Typological Introduction. Vol. 1. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Givón, T. 1990. Syntax: A Functional-TypologicalIintroduction. Vol. 2. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Goffman, E. 1981. Forms of Talk. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Goodwin, C. 1981. Conversational Organization: Interaction between Speakers and Hearers. New York NY: Academic Press. Goodwin, C. 1984. Notes on story structure and the organization of participation. In Structures of Social Action, J.M. Atkinson & J. Heritage (Eds), 225−246. Cambridge: CUP. Goodwin, C. & Duranti, A. 1992. Rethinking Context: Language as an Interactive Phenomenon [Studies in the social and cultural foundations of language 11] Cambridge: CUP. Goodwin, C. & Goodwin, M.H. 1990. Context, activity and participation. In The Contextualization of Language, P. Auer & A. di Luzio (Eds). Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
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Hakulinen, A., Vilkuna, M., Korhonen, R., Koivisto, V., Heinonen, T. & Alho, I. 2004. Iso suomen kielioppi (The Comprehensive Grammar of Finnish). Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Hakulinen, A. & Karlsson, F. 1979. Nykysuomen lauseoppia (Modern Finnish Syntax). Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Hakulinen, L. 1979. Suomen kielen rakenne ja kehitys (The Structure and Development of the Finnish Language]. Helsinki: Otava. Hanks, W. 1990. Referential Practice. Language and Lived Space among the Maya. Chicago IL: Chicago University Press. Heine, B. & Kuteva, T. 2002. World Lexicon of Grammaticalization. Cambridge: CUP. Häkkinen, K. 2004. Nykysuomen etymologinen sanakirja (The Etymological Dictionary of Contemporary Finnish). Juva: WS Bookwell Oy. Jakobson, R. 1971 [1957]. On language. Keevallik, L. 2000. Keelendid et ja nii et vestluses (The linguistic items et and nii et in conversation). Keel ja Kirjandus 43(5): 344−358. Keevallik, L. 2003. From Interaction to Grammar: Estonian Finite Verb Forms in Conversation [Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Studia Uralica Upsaliensia 34]. Koivisto, A. 2006. Et(tä)-loppuiset vuorot keskustelussa. MA thesis, University of Helsinki. Korhonen, R. 1993.Buts About Conjunctions. A Syntactic Study of Conjunction Expressions in Finnish. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Kuiri, K. 1984. Referointi Pohjois-Karjalan ja Kainuun murteissa. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Kärkkäinen, E. 2003. Epistemic Stance in English Conversation. A Description of its Interactional Functions, with a Focus on I think [Pragmatics and Beyond New Series 115]. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Laitinen, L. 1992. Välttämättömyys ja persoona. Suomen murteiden nesessiivisten rakenteiden semantiikkaa ja kielioppia. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Laitinen, L. 2002. From logophoric pronoun to discourse particle: A case study of Finnish and Saami. In New Reflections on Grammaticalization, I. Wischer & G. Diewald (Eds), 327−344. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Laitinen, L. 2005. Hän, the third speech act pronoun. In Minimal Reference in Finnic: The Use and Interpretation of Pronouns in Finnish and Estonian Discourse, [Studia Fennica Linguistica 12], R. Laury (Ed.), 75−106. Helsinki: Finnish Literature Society. Laury, R. 2005. First and only. Single-mention pronouns in spoken Finnish. In Minimal Reference in Finnic: The Use and Interpretation of Pronouns in Finnish and Estonian Discourse [Studia Fennica Linguistica 12], R. Laury (Ed.), 56−74. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Laury, R. 2006. On subordination, Finnish-style. Questioning the category of finite clausal complements in spoken Finnish. In A Man of Measure. A Festschrift in Honour of Fred Karlsson on his 60th Birthday, M. Suominen, A. Arppe, A. Airola, O. Heinämäki, M. Miestamo, U. Määttä, J. Niemi, K.K. Pitkänen & K. Sinnemäki (Eds), 310–321. Turku: The Linguistic Association of Finland. Matthiessen, C. & Thompson, S.A. 1988. The structure of discourse and ‘subordination’. In Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse, J. Haiman & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 275−329. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Munro, P. 1982. On the transitivity of ‘say’ verbs. In Studies in Transitivity, P.J. Hopper & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 301−318. New York NY: Academic Press.
Ritva Laury & Eeva-Leena Seppänen Noonan, M. 1985. Complementation. In Language Typology and Syntactic Description, Vol. 2, T. Shopen (Ed.). Cambridge: CUP. Okamoto, S. 1995. Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese. In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In Honor of Charles J. Fillmore, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 219−246. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Opetusministeriö (Finnish ministry of Education). 1998. Kieli ja sen kieliopit: opetuksen suuntaviivoja (Language and its Grammars. Guidelines for Teaching). Helsinki: Painatuskeskus. Raussi, A. 1992. Et(tä)-partikkelilla alkavat lausumat keskustelussa (Utterances initiated with the particle et[tä] in conversation). Ph.D. dissertation, University of Helsinki. Routarinne, S. 2005. Keskustelupuheen johtolauseiden kielioppia. In Referointi ja moniäänisyys, M. Haakana & J. Kalliokoski (Eds), 83−113. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Schegloff, E.A., Ochs, E. & Thompson, S.A. 1996. Introduction. In Interaction and Grammar, E. Ochs, E.A. Schegloff & S.A. Thompson, 1−51. Cambridge: CUP. Seppänen, E.-L. 1998. Läsnäolon pronominit: Tämä, tuo, se ja hän viittaamassa keskustelun osallistujaan (Pronouns of participation. The Finnish pronouns tämä, tuo, se ans hän as devices for referring to co-participants in conversation). Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Seppänen, E.-L. 2005. Pronouns, gaze and reference. The Finnish demonstrative pronoun tämä as a device for modifying participation frameworks in conversation. In Minimal Reference in Finnic: The Use and Interpretation of Pronouns in Finnish and Estonian Discourse [Studia Fennica Linguistica 12], R. Laury (Ed.), 38−55. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Seppänen, E.-L. & Laury, R. 2007. Complement clauses as turn continuations: The Finnish et(tä)-clause. Pragmatics 17(4): 553–572. Sorjonen, M.-L. 2001. Responding in Conversation. A study of response particles in Finnish. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Suojanen, M. 1985. Mitä Turussa puhutaan? Raportti Turun puhekielen tutkimuksesta. (Turun puhekielen projektin julkaisuja 3). Turku: Turun yliopiston suomalaisen ja yleisen kielitieteen julkaisuja 23. Suzuki, R. 1999. Grammaticization in Japanese: A Study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Thompson, S.A. 2002. “Object complements” and conversation: Towards a realistic account. Studies in Language 26(1): 125−164. Traugott, E. 2003. From subjectification to intersubjectification. Motives for Language Change, R. Hickey (Ed.). 124–139. Cambridge: CUP. Vilkuna, M. 1996. Suomen lauseopin perustee (Kotimaisten kielten tutkimuskeskuksen julkaisuja 90). Helsinki: Edita. Vries, M. de. 2006. The syntax of appositive relativization. On specifying coordination, false free relatives and promotion. Linguistic Inquiry 37: 229–270.
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation1 Jean Mulder
University of Melbourne
Sandra A. Thompson
University of California, Santa Barbara We examine the behavior of turn-final but in a corpus of spoken American and Australian English, proposing two hypotheses. First, the behavior of but can be modeled as a continuum from a prosodic-unit-initial to a prosodicunit-final discourse particle. Second, as but “moves” along this continuum, its conversational function changes, in a way that is consistent with what has been described in the grammaticization literature. In both our American and Australian data, both prosodically and sequentially, speakers give evidence of taking another’s prior but-ending utterance as having been finished, but with an implication left “hanging”. However, our Australian data provide considerable evidence of Australian English “final but” having become a “fully-developed” final particle marking contrastive content.
1. Introduction The term “syntactic conjunctionals” was introduced by Jefferson (1980) to include the words and, but, because, so, and or. She was interested in them because of their implications for the way speakers handle overlap in conversation: these “syntactic conjunctionals” seem to be “weak” “in terms of taking or holding speakership”.
. We are grateful to these people for valuable discussion of the ideas in this paper: Mira Ariel, Elizabeth Couper-Kuhlen, Robert Englebretson, Bryan Fricker, Ritva Laury, Gerhard Leitner, Gene Lerner, Tsuyoshi Ono, Geoffrey Raymond, Hongyin Tao, and Caroline Thomas. None of them is responsible for what we have done with their advice. A shorter version of this paper was originally presented at the 2005 Conference of the Australian Linguistic Society and appeared as Mulder/Thompson (2006a), while a version in which we focus on the origins and distribution of the final but particle in Englishes around the world was presented at the 37th Poznań Linguistic Meeting, Poland (Mulder/Thompson 2006b).
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
Our interest in this paper is in one of these forms, namely but. Our data strongly confirm that this word tends to be overlapped; in this paper we consider but in terms of “taking and holding speakership” as it grammaticizes into a final particle in English conversation. We refer to this as “final but”. The following examples drawn from dialogue in contemporary Australian fiction illustrate the “final but particle”:
(1) O’Fear. (Peter Corris (1991: 100))
Bradley slapped the tops of his thighs. “Mine accident,” he said. “Both legs buggered for good. Compo’s2 coming through, but.” I nodded. “No hope?” I said. “Physio? Operation?” “Stuffed,” he said. “Mind you, I miss the fishing more than the bloody work.”
(2) Murder in Montparnasse (Kerry Greenwood (2002: 244))
‘…Got a few mates who play jazz. Not my kind of music, but. And them musos drink like wharfies, a man can’t hardly keep up with them. I’ll come round about lunchtime tomorrow, all right? Today, I mean,’ said Bert, noting that the church clock said half past twelve.
From our data emerge two hypotheses. Firstly, in contemporary spoken English (and written Australian dialogue), the behavior of but can be modeled as a continuum from an prosodic unit-initial conjunction to an prosodic unit-final discourse particle in a way that suggests a grammaticization process in progress.3 The continuum that emerges from our data can be schematized as: (3) initial but > [IU-initial conjunction]
Janus faced but >
final but [IU-final discourse particle]
The usage of “final but” in Australian English, and its grammaticization pathway, is wholly parallel to that of though (Barth-Weingarten & Couper-Kuhlen 2002). Secondly, we hypothesize that as but “moves” along this continuum, its conversational function changes from that of a turn-continuing conjunction to a turnyielding discourse particle, in a way that is consistent with what has been described in the grammaticization literature. To demonstrate these claims, we draw on contemporary American and Australian data rather than historical data, considering prosody, turn organization, and interactional actions.4 . compo: compensation for injury at or in connection with a person’s work. . For ease of reference, following Chafe (1994) and Du Bois et al. (1993), we call these prosodic units Intonation Units (IUs), fully recognizing that prosody involves much more than “intonation”. . As noted, we find this grammaticization happening in both Australian English and American English; in fact, it appears to be more widespread than this (see Section 3.3.2 and Mulder & Thompson 2006b), but we will largely restrict our discussion to these two sites, for which we have substantial video and audio data.
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
2. Data We first observed the use of “final but” in contemporary Australian fiction, as illustrated in (1)–(2). Fascinated to know to what extent this might reflect spoken conversation, and whether it might not be restricted to Australia, we began to cull instances from various sources of data, garnering a collection of about 50 instances from our spoken data, 35 from our dialogue in written fiction data, and 30 from internet forums. These are obviously not comparable; we use and identify them in our argumentation accordingly. Our sources include: • • • • • • • •
Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English (Du Bois et al. 2000, 2003); (Du Bois & Englebretson 2004, 2005) other spoken American conversations International Corpus of English – Australia (ICE-AUS) Monash University Dimensions of Australian English Corpus contemporary Australian fiction various Australian films and live television shows Australian Word Map (www.abc.com.au/wordmap/) various internet news groups
3. The phenomenon 3.1 Initial but It is not surprising that the majority of uses of but in conversational English are what can be called “initial buts”.5 Characteristically, an “initial but” begins an IU, whether or not another IU precedes it in the same turn, generally indicating contrast. Examples are easy to find in both our American and Australian corpora. Here is an example from American English: (4) SBC0006 (“Cuz”) 55.43–59.236 1 ALINA: So he got another radi[o this] summer, 2 LENORE: [(H) = ]
. Because the use of “initial but” is neither controversial nor the focus of this paper, we do not provide quantitative support for this claim; however, after combing through large amounts of data, our impression is that “initial but” outnumbers “non-initial but” by about 5 to 1. . For our spoken examples, we have kept the transcription system used by the original transcriber. The Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English is transcribed according to the system described in Du Bois et al. (1993). For certain others, it is the Jefferson system described
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
3 4
ALINA:
but of course that got ripped off also. .
We will not discuss the conversational uses of the “initial but” here (for discussion see Ford (2000), Mazeland and Huiskes (2001), Schiffrin (1987), and CouperKuhlen and Thompson (2000)). 3.2 Janus but The next point on the grammaticization pathway schematized in (3) is what we are calling the “Janus buts”. They are “between” the initial and final buts, and are dubbed “Janus”, because they have properties of both “initial” and “final” buts, and can be interpreted as either. They can thus be hypothesized to represent a crucial stage in the reanalysis of but and the grammaticization process we are proposing whereby the “final but” is emerging from a discourse pattern in which the contrasting material associated with the “initial but” is not made explicit but left to inference. Expanding the continuum in (3), we have been able to usefully distinguish a “Janus 1” type, which is closer to being an “initial but”, and a “Janus 2” type, which is closer to being a “final but”. Again, we hypothesize that these can be taken as correspondingly earlier and later stages of the grammaticization process by which the “final but” is emerging from the “initial but”. While examples occur in both our American and Australian corpora, we will illustrate and discuss these below with American data. 3.2.1 Janus 1 In the “Janus 1” examples, the speaker begins an IU with a but, as if it were an “initial but”. The material which is subsequently produced relates to that preceding the but with precisely the sorts of semantically contrasting content that we find following our “initial but” examples. However, the clause it initiates happens only in a successive IU; in other words, the “Janus 1 but” occurs in its own IU. Here is an example: (5)
SBC0013 (“Appease the Monster”) 1544.68–1548.63 1 MARCI: I don’t know what the real story is, 2 but, 3 … (1.1) it sounded kinda neat.
in Atkinson/Heritage (1984). One noteworthy difference between these two is that “=” in the Jefferson system indicates “latching”, when “there is no interval between adjacent utterances, the second being latched immediately to the first” (p.x), while in the Du Bois et al. system, “=” indicates vowel lengthening.
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
Here Marci finishes one clause in line 1, continues with but in line 2; after a rather long pause of 1.1 seconds, she then adds a contrasting clause. But here is thus serving both as a potential “final but” – it comes across prosodically as being final upon its production – and as an “initial but”, since in fact, after some delay, Marci does go on to add another clause. We’ve said that “Janus but” can be modeled as occupying the middle space on a continuum from the conjunction “initial but” to the final particle “final but”. That is, while a conjunction works grammatically and rhetorically to link two units of talk, in this case clauses or stretches of discourse, a final particle is a discourse marker that occurs at the end of an interactional unit, whether a turn, a turn unit, or a prosodic unit, and indexes certain pragmatic stances, in this case inviting the listener(s) to infer a contrast. According to this model we can say that Janus 1 examples have not progressed very far along this pathway: prosodically, they could be taken as “final buts” upon their production, but in fact the speaker immediately provides further contrasting material in the same turn, which has the effect of “turning them into” introducers after all. 3.2.2 Janus 2 “Janus 2” examples, on the other hand, can be viewed as much closer to the “final but” end of the continuum. First, the but in these examples is uttered at the end of an IU, just like a “final but”. Second, while the speaker does go on with her/his turn (unlike a “final but”), we have no evidence with which to argue that this subsequent material is to be taken as contrasting with that preceding the but; in fact it appears to be initiating a new social action. Consider (6), a discussion of a loan application among a group of bank loan officers: (6) SBC0014 (“Bank Products”) 1192.84–1208.05 1 JIM: … we would charge (H) % … five-hundred fifty dollars on ac- on an account, 2 it would be five-hundred dollars, 3 it’s really kind of a switch around but. 4 (H) what … what that would – 5 … I think it would be good for (H) … the five or six of us, 6 (H) to have Galino down here, 7 (H) can kind of explain what products, 8 … we can offer from the bank side, 9 JOE: … hm. 10 JIM: ~Matt needs to know that, 11 and … and we all need to know that, 12 (H) and then,
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
13 … we can figure out how ~Matt’s, 14 … the products that LCL’s gonna offer will plug into that.
In line 3, Jim concedes that his plan would be “kind of a switch-around”. From the previous talk, it is clear that this “switch-around” involves an arrangement whereby a bank products firm will take over some of the duties of the bank for a fee. Earlier, Jim has described this as: (7) it’s really not a cost, (H) … it’s kind of a s- … flip-flop,
and as:
(8) “pretty much of a swap”
From this we can infer that Jim’s but is the end of the description of this arrangement. It implies that even though the arrangement is “kind of a switch-around”, the bank gains something from it. What follows, after a hesitation pseudo-cleft initiator what that would – in line 4, namely “having Galino down”, in lines 5–6, does not, then, contrast with that description, but goes back to Jim’s suggestion, launched before the description of the “switch-around”, that a man named Galino would be “coming down” to tell the loan officers about some of the products the bank can offer. The point is that, while Jim does produce further talk after uttering his but, the content of this talk is not part of the same action that the but is indexing; rather, he is returning to his earlier announcement that Galino would be “coming down”. As a further example, consider (9), in which Annette is talking to her mother, Alice, about her day at work, saying that there had been a party at lunch with lots of food for “customer appreciation day”; the referent of em is hot dogs:
(9) SBC043 (“Try a Couple Spoonfuls”) 259.454–267.828
1 ANNETTE: So I had two of em, 2 and I mean the first one kinda tasted pretty [good? 3 ALICE: [@@@@@@ (H)] 4 ANNETTE: (H) And I ate the other one, 5 then half of the other one], 6 it was like, 7 whoah=. 8 ALICE: … [Yeah]. 9 ANNETTE: → [I don’t l]ike hot dogs that well but. 10 … (1.4) and then we had cake.
Annette’s arrowed IU ends with but. Prosodically, it can be taken as complete, as indicated by the period after but. After a long pause, her next IU in line 10 initiates
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
a new action: whereas the arrowed turn is a concession (leaving the implication that even though she doesn’t “like hot dogs that well”, she ate these two anyway), the next IU in line 10 returns to her recitation of what she had had to eat that afternoon. 3.3 Final but As with the “Janus but” category, we can expand the continuum in (3) to usefully distinguish a “Final 1” type and a “Final 2” type. Both types of “final but” have two central features: (1) they end an IU and (2) they end a turn. What we propose differentiates the two types is that the “Final 2” type has fully developed as a discourse particle. 3.3.1 Final 1 = “final but with ‘hanging implication’” To give a feel for the use of “final 1”, we provide several examples. Again, while examples occur in both our American and Australian corpora, all the examples below are from our American data. (10)
SBC0008 (“Tell the Jury that”) 1303.52–1309.90 1 RICKIE: I don’t think he would do anythi=ng, 2 … when people are around. 3 REBECCA: [Right]. 4 RICKIE: [You know], 5 down at the other seat [s or < X in] back X >, 6 REBECCA: [2Right2]. 7 RICKIE: I could scream but, 8 … (H) 9 REBECCA: Yeah.
(11)
SBC0006 (“Cuz”) 1392.02–1399.22 1 ALINA: (H) = It was funny. 2 (H)… [That’s the only part] I’ll miss but, 3 LENORE: [So X X] – 4 ALINA: <X uh X> [(Hx)] – 5 LENORE: [His position] is pretty uh, 6 ALINA: … % (TSK) (H) stable. 7 … Yeah.
(12) Coffee 3.37 1 Steve: What is French [over the phone.] 2 Karen: [He and Didier -] give lessons over the phone.
. In examples (12) and (13), heavy stress is indicated by capital letters.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
3 Charles: 4 5 Steve: 6 7 Karen: 8 9 Charles: 10 11 Karen: 12 13 Charles:
French lessons. (1.0) Was this their own: – idea? (2.8) W’l now Didier – makes his money by going to Atlantic City but(1.7) hhh hhh HAH HAH HAH HAH (1.3) ‘ts inCREDible, how they live – It IS incredible.
(13)
Game Night 16 Talking about whether Abbie is Norwegian or not. 1 Abbie: It’s a complica [ted story.] 2 Terry: [totally.] 3 Maureen: R(h)eally. 4 Abbie: And the NA:ME is MY NA:ME is Norwegian but, 5 Maureen: What a- what is his [nationality?] 6 Terry: [Sola.] 7 Abbie: Hungarian, 8 (1.0)
In each of these examples, but ends both an IU and a turn; smoothly and with no evidence of trouble, another participant then takes a turn. Yet there is a clear implication left “hanging”, such that the clause ending with but is open to being interpreted as a concession, with the claim for which it is a concession only implied (see Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson (2000)). That is, but tells the hearer that there’s an implication, and invites the listener to infer what it is and continue the interaction appropriately given that implication. In (13), for instance, Abbie concedes that her name is Norwegian, leaving open the implication, confirmed by the conversational context, that she herself is not Norwegian. As we will see just below, there is strong evidence in the data that participants routinely orient to this implication left open for listener interpretation. Two questions immediately come to mind in considering each of these examples. First, what is their prosody? Second, what is their conversational function? We will address each of these in turn. Prosodically, there are several aspects to consider. First, as we have noted, by definition, these “final buts” are final in their IUs. Second, and more important, is what Local and Kelly (1986) call attention to: whether the but is followed by a “holding” silence or a “trail-off ” silence (p. 195). The turn-holding but ends with a final glottal closure which is maintained through
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
a silence and only released at the beginning of the following word produced by the same speaker. The trail-off but ends with an audible exhalation and no glottal closure. “Trail-off ” buts “imply that they are a legitimate place for turn transition to occur” (p. 195). Unfortunately, the sound quality of many of our examples does not allow us to distinguish between these two types of but. However, we do have several examples where we can hear the exhalation and/or where exhalation is marked by the transcriber. Let’s consider (11) again: (14)
SBC0006 (“Cuz”) 1392.02–1399.22 1 ALINA: (H) = It was funny. 2 (H)… [That’s the only part] I’ll miss but, 3 LENORE: [So X X] – 4 ALINA: <X uh X> [(Hx)] – 5 LENORE: [His position] is pretty uh, 6 ALINA: … % (TSK) (H) stable. 7 … Yeah.
In line 1, Alina comes to a point of possible turn completion, then inhales and goes on to produce another turn unit, which also comes to a point of possible completion with but in line 2. The next syllable cannot be heard distinctly, though it sounds like uh, and then Alina exhales (“Hx” in line 4) in overlap with Lenore’s next turn, his position is pretty uh,. According to Local and Kelly’s analysis, the but in line 2 would be an example of a “trail-off ” “final but”, and Alina’s exhalation in line 4 is an indication that she intends to yield the floor; in fact, simultaneously with this exhalation, Lenore indeed does take a turn. The third prosodic issue we want to address relates to what Du Bois et al. (1993) refer to as “transitional continuity”, that is, whether the ends of IUs have contours that seem “final”, “continuing”, “appealing”, or “cut off ”. Intriguingly, and perhaps counter-intuitively, we have found examples of “final 1 but” that exhibit each of these. The examples above are variously transcribed by researchers with commas and with dashes. Listening to each of them, we do not find any consistent correlates to these symbols, nor do we hear any consistent pattern among the examples; all could be perceived as complete (and could be transcribed with semi-colons in the GAT transcription system (Selting et al. 1998).8 We note that
. What seems clear is that emerging prosodic contours are routinely judged by interlocutors as to whether they are possibly whole gestalts or not; our research suggests that what may not be so clear is at what exact point in an emerging contour prosody allows judgments about a speaker’s intention to continue. See Szczepek Reed (2004) for discussion.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
Local and Kelly also found that pitch was not a reliable indicator of the distinction between “turn holding” and “turn-yielding” buts: Interestingly, the pitch characteristics which precede these two kinds of “silence” would not on their own serve to uniquely distinguish the kinds of utterance (p. 195). Finally, we note that many of our “final 1 buts” are followed by substantial pauses, which is another cue that the speaker considers the turn to be at an end, as shown in (12), repeated here: (15)
Coffee 3.3 1 Steve: 2 Karen: 3 Charles: 4 5 Steve: 6 7 Karen: 8 9 Charles: 10 11 Karen: 12 13 Charles:
What is French [over the phone.] [He and Didier –] give lessons over the phone. French lessons. (1.0) Was this their own: – idea? (2.8) W’l now Didier – makes his money by going to Atlantic City but– (1.7) hhh hhh HAH HAH HAH HAH (1.3) ‘ts inCREDible, how they live – It IS incredible.
In this example, Karen has just told Steve and Charles that their mutual friend Didier has started a business teaching French over the phone. At the arrow, Karen finishes an IU with but. We can’t hear whether there is any exhalation or not following this but, but there are two other indications that Karen is orienting to this point as a turn-transition point. First, the but is prosodically hearable as completing her turn. Second, there is a noticeably long pause – about 1.7 seconds long – which also suggests that she does not intend to go on. Prosodically, then, we find that while pitch does not seem to be a primary cue for whether the speaker has come to a point of possible completion with a “final 1 but”, there are a number of other cues surrounding its use, and that interlocutors characteristically orient to these, taking the turn to be at an end.9
. At the same time, as Jefferson (1980) points out, a “final but”, like other “conjunctionals”, may be more vulnerable to overlap than other elements which typically end turns. When it is overlapped, as analysts we are generally not able to determine whether the but is turn-holding or turn-yielding, simply because we, and presumably the conversational participants, cannot hear it well. We have thus limited our investigation to those instances where but is not overlapped.
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
Next we consider the conversational function of the “final 1 but”. To understand conversational function, we find the most fruitful approach to be one which establishes “function” in terms of the course of action of which the linguistic item in question is a part, as argued by Thompson and Couper-Kuhlen (2005), Fox (1987), Goodwin (1981, 1995), Hopper and Thompson (this volume), Schegloff (e.g., 1979, 1996a,b), and Thompson (2002); accordingly, we seek to establish the course of action that the participants themselves give evidence of being involved in when they use “final but”. Intriguingly, we find evidence in the sequential organization (Schegloff 2007) surrounding the “final 1 but” to correspond with the prosodic distinction outlined just above. That is, corresponding to the turn-yielding but (that is, Local and Kelly’s “trail-off but”), we find evidence that participants share an understanding of what “might have” followed that but. To see this, let’s consider (10) again. (16)
SBC0008 (“Tell the Jury that”) 1303.52–1309.90 1 RICKIE: I don’t think he would do anythi=ng, 2 … when people are around. 3 REBECCA: [Right]. 4 RICKIE: [You know], 5 down at the other seat [s or < X in] back X >, 6 REBECCA: [Right]. 7 RICKIE: → I could scream but, 8 … (H) 9 REBECCA: Yeah.
Rickie’s arrowed turn ends with but followed by a pause and an inhalation. Strong evidence that Rebecca takes Rickie’s turn as having come to completion is her yeah, indicating her affiliation with Rickie’s implication that screaming wouldn’t have done any good. Similarly, let’s reconsider (11), (12), and (13): (17)
SBC0006 (“Cuz”) 1392.02–1399.22 1 ALINA: (H) = It was funny. 2 → (H)…[That’s the only part] I’ll miss but, 3 LENORE: [So X X] – 4 ALINA: <X uh X> [(Hx)] – 5 LENORE: [His position] is pretty uh, 6 ALINA: … % (TSK) (H) stable. 7 … Yeah.
As background, Hector is moving from being associate producer of a TV show back to running the editorial unit for the show, and just prior to this portion of the conversation Alina has been telling Lenore about a funny exchange that she
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
had with Hector when she phoned him at work. In (17), Alina’s arrowed turn ends with but, and, as noted above, there are several indications that she is taking her turn to be complete. Once again, Lenore’s turn provides evidence that Lenore takes the turn to be complete as well, since she goes on with a new turn that suggests the “good news” that might compensate for the fact that Alina will miss funny exchanges like the one she has just had; namely, that overall Hector’s situation with the TV show he works on is “pretty stable”. (18)
Coffee 3.3 1 Steve: What is French [over the phone.] 2 Karen: [He and Didier –] give lessons over the phone. 3 Charles: French lessons. 4 (1.0) 5 Steve: Was this their own: – idea? 6 (2.8) 7 Karen: W’l now Didier – makes his money by going to Atlantic City but– 8 (1.7) 9 Charles: hhh hhh HAH HAH HAH HAH 10 (1.3) 11 Karen: ‘ts inCREDible, 12 how they live – 13 Charles: It IS incredible.
In this example, Karen finishes the arrowed turn with but, and then there is a significant pause, suggesting that she has completed her turn. At this point, Charles laughs loudly in what is easily hearable as a response to the implication of her but-ending turn, which is something like “but we won’t count his gambling at the moment”. (19)
Game Night 16 1 Abbie: It’s a complica [ted story.] 2 Terry: [totally.] 3 Maureen: R(h)eally. 4 Abbie: → And the NA:ME is MY NA:ME is Norwegian but, 5 Maureen: What a- what is his [nationality?] 6 Terry: [Sola.] 7 Abbie: Hungarian, 8 (1.0)
Recall that, just prior to this part of the conversation, it has been established that Abbie’s parents lived in Norway, but are not Norwegian. At the arrow, Abbie’s IU has both low pitch and low amplitude, and clearly sounds turn-final. Partly because of the heavy stress on NA:ME, the implication is clear that although her name is Norwegian, she is in fact not Norwegian. Maureen’s next turn shows that
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
she not only has taken Abbie to be finished, but she has gotten the implication and is pursuing the nationality of Abbie’s father.10 What we have shown so far with our American data, then, is that in these examples, both prosodically and sequentially, speakers give evidence of taking another’s prior but-ending utterance as having been finished. Sometimes they ratify the implication left “hanging” by the final but, and sometimes they simply go on with a turn that assumes that implication. 3.3.2 Final 2 = “final but particle” Turning to the final category, namely the end point of the continuum in (3), our Australian data provide considerable evidence of “final but” having progressed far enough to be considered a final particle. Not only is it uttered with final prosody, but instead of leaving a contrasting implication “hanging”, the semantically contrastive material is supplied in the IU ending with the “final but particle”. That is, it appears that in Australian English “final but” has become a “fully-developed” final particle marking contrastive content. To get the feel of this “final but particle”, consider the following example from our Australian data: (20)
MEP1F-B 21 Diana has just made some strange noises. 1 Kylie: You sounded funny @@ (H) 2 Diana: I know. 3 → Sounded like an alright person but. 4 (3.3) 5 Kylie: <SING On Saturday, SING>
At the arrow Diana finishes an IU with but. Here there are two clear indications that she is orienting to this point as a turn-transition point; namely, the end of the IU has a final contour and it is followed by a substantial pause of 3.3 seconds. We can see that Kylie takes Diana’s turn as having been completed by the fact that after this considerable pause, she initiates a new social action of starting to sing softly. Note that, unlike our “final 1” examples, in this example there is no implication of semantically contrastive material left “hanging” by the final but. In fact when we look more closely, what we see is that in her IU in line 2 Diana agrees with Kylie and then in the following IU introduces the contrastive material in the form of an assessment about herself that, in spite of sounding “funny”, she still sounded like an “alright person”. . Terry’s overlapped turn in line 6 probably refers to the Norwegian municipality of Sola where presumably Abbie’s parents lived.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
As another example, consider: (21)
MEE1F-B 6 1 Cathy: We’ve had new people join our [group]. 2 Megan: [yeah]. 3 Sally: Kylie, 4 → She was a bit of a bitch but. (Hx=) 5 Cathy: um. 6 Sally: She [was]. 7 Cathy: [Al]icia. 8 Sally: Alicia.
Here, Sally’s arrowed IU ends with but, and the final contour followed by an exhalation are prosodic clues that she takes her turn to be complete. Once more, Cathy’s next turn provides evidence that she takes the turn to be complete as well; the um is prosodically hearable as questioning Sally’s assessment of Kylie as a bit of a bitch. Sally then reaffirms her assessment in line 6 and Cathy goes on in line 7 with a new social action to name another new person who has joined their group. What we see, then, is that both Sally and Cathy are orienting to Sally’s but in line 4 as completing a turn and a social action. As in the previous example, there is no unstated implication following the final but. In line 3, Sally supports Cathy’s statement in line 1 (which is acknowledged by Megan’s overlapped yeah in line 2) by naming Kylie as a new person that has joined their group. In line 4, she then goes on to supply semantically contrastive material with but (which seems to us to work precisely as the final particle though would), giving an assessment of Kylie. In other words, Cathy is saying that although there have been some new people in the group, it wasn’t all good, since Kylie was “a bit of a bitch”. What we see in these examples with the “final 2 but” is consistent across our Australian data: like “final 1 but” in the American data presented above, it involves but being used to complete a turn. However, unlike the “final 1 but”, the “final 2 but particle” has a final contour and does not leave an implication unstated. Rather, the semantically contrastive material is supplied in the IU ending with the “final but particle”. In terms of the grammaticization pathway schematized above in (3), the “final 1 but” represents a critical step in the grammaticization process we are proposing, whereby the “final 2 but particle” is emerging from a discourse pattern in which the but ends a turn. Given the lack of “final 2 but” examples in our American data, we can also conclude, to put it roughly, that Australia leads North America in this grammaticization process. Our Australian data are rich with evidence to suggest that for Australian speakers, “final but” has gone “all the way” to become a “fully-developed” final particle marking contrastive content. Interestingly, we find that this usage of but is
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
clearly recognized as a feature of Australian English. For example, Pawley (2004) lists it as a grammatical characteristic of Australian Vernacular English, and Mulder (2002) proposes that in dialogue in contemporary fiction the “final but particle” is becoming stereotyped as a distinctive feature of spoken Australian English. Examples such as (1) and (2) bear out this claim. As a further note on the Australian lead, we searched the Macquarie Dictionary/Australian Broadcasting Corporation “Australian Word Map”.11 From July 15, 2006, we found a number of comments impressionistically confirming “final 2 but” in Australian speech, such as: (22) Our 21 year old neighbor in SE Queensland also uses but to end and reinforce a sentence. e.g., “Nice day but?” for “It is a nice day”. (23) [Melbourne contributor] Asking for confirmation at the end of a sentence: “Nice day, but.” (24) In NSW, “but” is appended to a sentence as a finish: I’m going to the shops, but.
Consulting several Australian dictionaries and style guides, we find that the “final but particle” is also recognized (e.g., The Australian Macquarie Dictionary 3rd ed. (1997: 246) and Peters (1995a: 102, 1995b: 65)). In Australian English, it seems reasonable to conclude that the use of “final but” as a discourse particle is well on the way to becoming, or, indeed, has become, a socially recognized marker.12 Turning to other varieties of Englishes we find citations of the “sentence-final discourse marker but” in non-standard New Zealand English (Bauer 2002: 107); Falkland Islands English (Sudbury 2001: 73); Hawaiian Creole (Sebba 1997: 172f); Australian Aboriginal English (Leitner 2004: 245), and dialects of Scots English, particularly those on the west coast, midlands and in Glasgow, Belfast Irish English, and dialects of the north-east of England, particularly the “Geordie” dialect (e.g., Trudgill 1983: 26, 1986: 140). Two points emerge from sources such as these that are relevant to our hypotheses. First, “final but” is attributed to “non-standard speech”, often being characterized as less “accepted” or “colloquial”. Second, this usage of but is frequently likened to though. Overall, these observations clearly support our hypotheses about the grammaticization of but as a final discourse particle marking contrastive content.13
. . For further discussion of the social meaning of the “final but particle” in Australian English see Mulder, Penry Williams, and Thompson (to appear). 13. In Mulder and Thompson (2006b) we further proposed that but as a “fully-developed” final particle is more broadly a feature of “Antipodean Englishes” that traces its origins through migration from Scotland, Northern Ireland and the north-east of England.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
3.4 Summary To summarize, what we have seen is that the data we have to hand can be consistently and reliably sorted into three broad categories of but usage based on prosody and understandings of conversational organization displayed by participants. One category (“initial but”) involves but being used to introduce talk which provides a contrast with what precedes it. Prosodically and sequentially, it is always taken by participants to be initiating a continuation of a turn. The second category (“Janus but”) can be viewed as the intermediate grouping, where the data provide indeterminate evidence as to whether the speaker has finished a turn upon uttering but. Both sequential and prosodic characteristics of these turns indicate that the speaker could be finished, but no other speaker comes in to confirm that other participants take that turn to be finished. Instead, the speaker goes on, sometimes providing the semantically contrastive material in the same turn (Janus 1), but at other times leaving the contrastive material implied and going on with a new social action (Janus 2). The third category (“final but”) involves but being used to complete a turn, regularly displaying the prosodic characteristics found at turn ends. As our examples illustrate, participants routinely orient to this but by beginning new turns. In the more “Janus-like” examples (Final 1), the contrastive material is implied, whereas in the examples at the end of the continuum with the final but particle (Final 2), the contrastive material is explicit. As all of the categories are represented in our Australian data and all but the “final 2 but particle” in our American data, we can conclude that speakers are using but in a range of strategies in conversational interaction. Not only is but an IU-initial conjunction but it is also an IU-final discourse particle. 4. Grammaticization of “final but” 4.1 The grammaticization pathway Returning to the grammaticization pathway schematized above in (3), the categorization of our data in Section 3 suggests that as but “moves” along the pathway, its conversational function changes from being turn-continuing to turn-ending. Moreover, its marking of the semantically contrastive material changes; while an “initial but” characteristically begins an IU indicating contrast, a “final 2 but” ends an IU indicating contrast. There are two crucial points where reanalysis occurs in this pathway. The first, as we discussed in Section 3.2, is the emergence of the “Janus buts” from an initial but discourse pattern. This can be schematized as in (25), where square brackets indicate an IU, and Y indicates the semantically contrastive material that is associated
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
with some previous statement or point (X) through a relationship of Concession or Contrast (Couper-Kuhlen and Thompson 2000).14 With the patterns we are calling “initial but” and “Janus 1 but”, X may or may not be in the same turn and Y is stated (for an initial but, in the same IU and for a Janus 1 but, in the following IU in the same turn). However with a Janus 2 but, the but is uttered at the end of the IU in which the initial claim (X) is stated, the contrasting material (Y) is not made explicit but left to inference, and the speaker goes on with her/his turn: (25) initial but X [but + Y]
>
Janus 1 but X [but,] Y
>
Janus 2 but [X but]
The next stage of the grammaticization pathway is a final 1 but. What we propose distinguishes a final 1 but from a Janus 2 but is that a final 1 but is prosodically and sequentially taken by speakers to have ended a turn. The final stage, the emergence of the final 2 but from the final 1 but discourse pattern, is the second crucial point of reanalysis. As discussed in Section 3.3, in this development, which can be schematized as in (26), but continues to end an IU and a turn, with the distinguishing feature being the content of the but-final IU; a final 1 but (like a Janus 2 but) ends an IU in which the initial point (X) is stated and the contrasting material (Y) is left to inference, whereas a final 2 but ends an IU in which the contrasting material (Y) is explicitly stated in the clause to which but is appended. (26) final 1 but > [X but]
indeterminate > [X/Y but]
final 2 but [Y but]
What is critical in this development is the occurrence in our data of “in-between” examples which can be analyzed as either a final 1 but or a final 2 but. It is out of this indeterminacy that the final 2 but emerges. In support of this, consider the following example from our Australian data:
(27)
MECG4M-B 4 1 John: Is your – 2 … in y- in your family like are the jobs sha=red around fairly? 3 Chris: Yep.
. Note that when X and Y occur within square brackets they are taken as part of an IU. Otherwise they are taken to be abstractions which may range over one or more IUs and there may be intervening IUs. In this schematic we also ignore the acknowledgement of the statement/point (X’) that occurs in a Cardinal Concessive relation as defined by Couper-Kuhlen and Thompson (1999, 2000) and we collapse the representation of the Concessive and Contrast relations so as to focus solely on the relevant aspects of the development of but as a final particle.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
4 They [are] now any[way]. 5 Wallace: [Yep]. 6 Daniel: [u=m], 7 → … my mum doesn’t think so – %but, 8 Wallace: … (H) = [Yeah], 9 Chris: [Well-] 10 Wallace: we’ve got this new roster system at the moment that’s working,
In lines 6 and 7, Daniel answers the question posed by John in line 1, ending the arrowed IU with but. Prosodically, the arrowed line is one coherent IU with no pitch fall before the but and terminating with “continuing” transitional continuity. In line 8, Wallace’s inhalation and response to John’s question as well as Chris’s simultaneous start in line 9 provide strong evidence that they take Daniel’s turn as having come to completion. Now, the contour of Daniel’s um response in line 6 suggests at least a qualified response to John’s question about sharing jobs around in the family, and, together with his next IU, can be analyzed as either something like “(Yeah), my mum doesn’t think so, but they are” (final 1 but) or “(Yeah), but my mum doesn’t think so”/“my mom doesn’t think so though” (final 2 but). It is from indeterminate examples such as these that the final particle but emerges. While the shift from “initial but” to “final 2 but” thus appears to involve a “leap” from a prospective clause-initial contrast marker to a retrospective clausefinal contrast marker, we hope to have shown that “leaping” would be a less than apt metaphor for what is actually a very natural progression for speakers. When examined incrementally, stage by stage, every stage is motivated by natural interactional considerations, and, of course, as with every instance of a change in progress, the various stages can exist at the same time. For speakers, then, there is no “leap”. Rather, at any given point in time (and space, as shown by the current differences among world Englishes), the various uses of but are available to them for packaging contrasts. 4.2 But and grammaticization As noted above, the usage of but and its grammaticization pathway that we have argued for here are quite parallel to those of though. Barth-Weingarten and Couper-Kuhlen (2002) argue that in present-day English “final though” has developed as a discourse particle. They point out that though in IU final-position is prosodically unobtrusive, lacks pitch prominence itself, forms a single intonation contour with the semantically contrastive material preceding it in the IU, and concedes a prior point without making that point explicit (pp. 348–9). These
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
features precisely match our “final 2 but”, suggesting that the road which but is traveling on has been taken before in English.15 Judging from our data, and noting the parallelism between the development of though and our final but, we are led to conclude that speakers are taking but as a resource that can be used both as a conjunction and as a final discourse particle. These developments are entirely consistent with Hopper’s observation of “overlay” (Hopper 1991), whereby a form in the process of grammaticization may retain its older functions and manifest its newer functions at the same point in time. Our understanding of the continuum along which but is traveling gains support both from the papers in this volume and from instances of similar phenomena reported in the literature. We suggest that it makes sense to consider “final 2 but” as having become a discourse particle, because it can finish an IU and a turn expressing semantically contrastive material. In other words it has become “freer” and is now occurring at the end of the contrastive IU, rather than at the beginning. At this point, but is clearly what many would term a “sentence-final particle”, though we much prefer the term “final particle”, since these particles can be empirically shown to be IU- or turn-final, but they cannot be shown to occur at the ends of “sentences”, whatever those might be in linguistic interactions. Following this line of reasoning, we propose that but hasn’t completely become a discourse particle at the final 1 stage, because its use in “final 1”, where it still carries a strong implication of contrastive material “left hanging”, retains much of its connective “flavor”. At the “in-between” “Janus” stage, we can see but in the process of being reanalyzed. Recall that at the “Janus 1” stage, but finishes or comprises an IU, but the turn continues with contrastive material. So we can think of the Janus 1 but as retaining its “conjunction” function. By the time of Janus 2, however, but could be seen as having ceased to be a “conjunction”, since it finishes a social action, with the material following it launching a new social action, which is not contrastive with what precedes. A question could be raised at this point as to whether the process we have outlined for but might best be characterized as “grammaticization” or “pragmaticization” (e.g., Garcia 1999; Okamoto 1995). Our position is that what is happening with but can be seen as grammaticization broadly conceived, as many scholars now take
. While there have been a range of approaches to the definition of “discourse particles’/ markers” (cf. Fischer 2006), the data suggest to us that “final though” and “final 2 but” are well analyzed as members of the set of what have been described as prototypical discourse particles/ markers.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
it to be (see especially Bybee 1985, 2001c, 2002, 2006a; Bybee & Thompson 1997; Diewald 2006; Hopper & Traugott 2003; Traugott & Heine 1991). In such a broad conception, in addition to the obvious historical dimension, grammaticization can be seen as “a syntactic, discourse-pragmatic phenomenon, to be studied from the point of view of fluid patterns of language use” (Hopper & Traugott 2003: 2). The term “pragmaticization” has served well to capture a number of changes reported in the literature. For example, Okamoto (1995) uses the term to describe how the forms no, koto, to, and tte are becoming “sentence-final particles”; her use of the term seems much more appropriate here, since these morphemes can clearly be argued to have had, and to have retained, lexical and grammatical functions in their early stages of change. Suzuki (1999) proposes the term “pragmatic particleization” for both tte and wake. Again, either “pragmaticization” or “pragmatic particle-ization” are quite apt here; parallel to Okamoto’s four forms, wake also was, and is, a lexical morpheme (in this case a noun), which is on its way to becoming a “final particle”. Onodera (2000) proposes that two groups of Japanese discourse markers – what she calls the demo type connectives and na elements – experience quite different historical changes: according to her, items in group (1) undergo both grammaticalization and pragmaticalization (= our grammaticization and pragmaticization), but those in group (2) undergo pragmaticalization without involving grammaticalization. For further discussion, see Fischer (2006), especially Diewald (2006) and Frank-Job (2006). Although we do not take a strong position on the pragmaticization/grammaticization distinction,16 clearly “pragmaticization” seems less appropriate for English but, since but could be argued to be playing a “pragmatic” role at all points along the continuum. Following Tabor and Traugott (1998), we might adopt the term “scope expansion”, which they use to describe a grammaticization process whereby a form increases the pragmatic “work” it does in language use over time. For a discussion of “connective” forms which are becoming “discourse particles” in spoken German, see Diewald (2006) on obwohl and weil and Günthner (2000) on obwohl. In this connection, it is noteworthy that several scholars have reported changes in the use of contrastive forms in both Japanese and Korean, which have intriguing parallels with the case of English but (Itani 1992; Iwasaki & Ono 2001; Mori 1994, 1999a,b; Nakayama and Ichihashi-Nakayama 1997; Ohori 1995, 1997; Okamoto 1995; Onodera 2000; Park 1996, 1997, 1998a, b, 1999). In fact, Nakayama and Ichihashi-Nakayama (1997) explicitly claim that kedo and its variants are acquiring a new status as final particles. The major difference between the two languages is word order: the evidence does not support viewing these forms as ever having had
. For a well-reasoned argument against this distinction, see Diewald (2006).
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
an “utterance-initial” stage, where they functioned as utterance-initial contrast introducers, since clause combining connectives in these two languages historically appeared, not at the beginnings, but at the ends, of the clauses they are associated with, as is still the case in more formal registers. A schematic model of the Japanese/Korean situation, then, could take a form such as the following: (28) Clause1-“but”, Clause2 > Clause-“but”. Constructed examples from Itani (1992: 265, 268) illustrate:
Stage 1 (29) [Moo jikan-desu-kedo]1, [dekakeru yooi-wo shinakutemo iinodesu ka]2? now time-is-but go.out ready-acc do.not.have.to Q-mkr ‘It’s time now, but don’t you have to get ready to go out?’
Stage 2 (30) Moo jikan-desu kedo … now time-is but (implying e.g., “don’t you have to get ready to go out”?)
According to Itani, the implication left hanging in examples such as (30) conveys an impression of “softening” or “politeness” by leaving it to the listener to figure out how final kedo is “relevant” to the clause it’s attached to. Significantly, Ohori (1995) confirms this empirically, citing extracts such as: (31) undookai-tte.ie.ba watasi are-o omoidasi-masu-kedo ne. athletic.meet-top 1sg that-acc recall-pol-kedo prt ‘athletic meet? I recall that incident, but. … ’
Of (31), Ohori says it: … is taken from a DJ’s talk about athletic meets. To take part in them is usually supposed to be fun. But the DJ comes to think of her own experience and says “I recall that incident, but …”, the assumption being “right, many people have fun in athletic meets, but I don’t totally agree on that point.”
Ohori proposes a pathway bearing striking similarity to that which we are proposing for but (compare our (26) above) and which Barth-Weingarten and Couper-Kuhlen (2002) propose for though: (32) X-KEDO, Y (“Though X, Y”) = > X-KEDO, ø (“Though X, that’s not the whole story,” or “X, but prepare for more.”) (1995: 209)
We find these accounts strikingly reminiscent of our “final 1” but, where an implication is strongly left hanging for the listener to construe in terms of the entire range of contextual, sequential, and cognitive resources at his/her disposal.17 . As far we know, that kedo is a clause-final particle, and thus belongs to Clause 1, rather than being a clause-intial particle at the beginning of Clause 2, is assumed by all scholars of Japanese.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson
What we see here, then, is that the process whereby English but is expanding from a “conjunction” to a “final particle” is mirrored in at least one other language. It is beyond the scope of this paper to pursue this further here, but it provides strong support for the position, excellently called attention to in Bybee (2006a) and Bybee et al. (1994), that language change is highly systematic, and that recurring patterns of change can be observed again and again across languages. In fact, Raymond (2004) notes in passing that English so can be similarly analyzed, and an important body of research provides persuasive evidence that such a grammaticization pathway underlies the grammaticization and usage of a number of “conjunctionals” which are becoming “final particles” in other languages as well (see especially Itani 1992; Lindström 1997; Mori 1999a,b; Ohori 1995, 1997; Tanaka 1999). 5. Conclusions In this paper we have proposed a plausible grammaticization pathway being followed by the morpheme but in English, based on synchronic evidence from usage in two broad English-speaking communities. This evidence shows that (1) careful attention to usage data can illuminate a grammaticization process in progress; (2) this pathway broadly appears to be similar to the one previously followed by English though; (3) in a diaspora situation, consistent synchronic patterns can be found which reveal that speakers of the same language in geographically separated speech communities are positioned at demonstrably different points along this pathway. Following much evidence in the literature, we have furthermore noted that similar pathways can be seen for a number of other developments in English and other languages around the world. This kind of evidence argues strongly for an emergentist view of language structure, whereby large-scale patterns are created from repeated small-scale interactions (Bybee 1998, 2001a,b, 2006b; Haiman 1994; Hopper 1987, 1998). In this case, the change in progress that we are documenting can be seen in terms of the emergence of utterance-final particles in English, particles which “started out” as clause-initial conjunctions.
This assumption is based on prosodic considerations, as well as on these facts: (a) final kedo is a member of a large set of “clause-final elements” which can occur either turn-finally or followed by another clause; (b) other utterance-final, less lexical, and more-highly-grammaticized particles can follow members of this set.
The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation
References Atkinson, J.M. & Heritage, J. (Eds). 1984. Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis. Cambridge: CUP. The Australian Macquarie Dictionary. 1997. 3rd Edn. Macquarie University NSW: The Macquarie Library. Barth-Weingarten, D. & Couper-Kuhlen, E. 2002. On the development of final though: A case of grammaticalization? In New Reflections on Grammaticalization, I. Wischer & G. Diewald (Eds), 345–361. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bauer, L. 2002. An Introduction to International Varieties of English. Edinburgh: EUP. Bybee, J. 1985. Morphology: A Study of the Relation between Meaning and Form. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bybee, J. 1998. The emergent lexicon. Chicago Linguistic Society 34: 421–435. Bybee, J. 2001a. Phonology and Language Use. Cambridge: CUP. Bybee, J. 2001b. Frequency effects on French liaison. In Frequency and the Emergence of Linguistic Structure, J. Bybee & P.J. Hopper (Eds), 337–359. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bybee, J. 2001c. Main clauses are innovative, subordinate clauses are conservative: Consequences for the nature of constructions. In Complex Sentences in Grammar and Discourse, J. Bybee & M. Noonan (Eds), 1–17. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bybee, J. 2002. Mechanisms of change in grammaticization: The role of repetition. In Handbook of Historical Linguistics, R. Janda & B. Joseph (Eds), 602–623. Oxford: Blackwell. Bybee, J. 2006a. Language change and universals. In Linguistic Universals, R. Mairal & J. Gil (Eds), Cambridge: CUP. Bybee, J. 2006b. From usage to grammar: The mind’s response to repetition. Language 82(4): 529–551. Bybee, J., Pagliuca, W. & Perkins, R. 1994. The Evolution of Grammar: Tense, Aspect and Modality in the Languages of the World. Chicago IL: University of Chicago Press. Bybee, J. & Thompson, S.A. 1997. Three frequency effects in syntax. Berkeley Linguistics Society 23: 378–388. Chafe, W. 1994. Discourse, Consciousness, and Time: The Flow and Displacement of Conscious Experience in Speaking and Writing. Chicago IL: University of Chicago Press. Corris, P. 1991. O’Fear. New York NY: Doubleday. Couper-Kuhlen, E. & Thompson, S.A. 1999. On the concessive relation in conversational English. In Anglistentag 1998 Erfurt: Proceedings, F-W. Neumann & S. Schülting (Eds), 29–39. Trier: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag. Couper-Kuhlen, E. & Thompson, S.A. 2000. Concessive patterns in conversation. In Cause, Condition, Concession, and Contrast: Cognitive and Discourse Perspectives, E. Couper-Kuhlen & B. Kortmann, (Eds), 381–410. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Diewald, G. 2006. Discourse particles and modal particles as grammatical elements. In Approaches to Discourse Particles, K. Fischer (Ed.), 403–425. Amsterdam: Elsevier. Du Bois, J.W., Chafe, W.L., Meyer, C. & Thompson, S.A. 2000. Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English, Part One. Philadelphia PA: Linguistic Data Consortium. http://www.ldc. upenn.edu/Catalog/CatalogEntry.jsp?catalogId=LDC2000S85 Du Bois, J.W., Chafe, W.L., Meyer, C., Thompson, S.A. & Martey, N. 2003. Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English, Part Two. Philadelphia PA: Linguistic Data Consortium. http://www.ldc.upenn.edu/Catalog/CatalogEntry.jsp?catalogId=LDC2003S06
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson Du Bois, J.W. & Englebretson, R. 2004. Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English, Part Three. Philadelphia PA: Linguistic Data Consortium. http://www.ldc.upenn.edu/Catalog/ CatalogEntry.jsp?catalogId=LDC2004S10 Du Bois, J.W. & Englebretson, R. 2005. Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English, Part Four. Philadelphia PA: Linguistic Data Consortium. http://www.ldc.upenn.edu/Catalog/ CatalogEntry.jsp?catalogId=LDC2005S25 Du Bois, J., Schuetze-Coburn, S., Paolino, D. & Cumming, S. 1993. Outline of discourse transcription. In Talking Data: Transcription and Coding Methods for Language Research, J.A. Edwards & M.D. Lampert (Eds), 45–89. Hillsdale NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Fischer, K., (Ed.). 2006. Approaches to Discourse Particles. Amsterdam: Elsevier. Ford, C.E. 2000. The treatment of contrasts in interaction. In Cause, Condition, Concession, and Contrast: Cognitive and Discourse Perspectives, E. Couper-Kuhlen & B. Kortmann, (Eds), 283–312. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Fox, B.A. 1987. Anaphora and the Structure of Discourse. Cambridge: CUP. Frank-Job, B. 2006. A dynamic-interactional approach to discourse markers. In Approaches to discourse particles, K. Fischer (Ed.), 359–374. Amsterdam: Elsevier. Garcia, M. 1999. Nomás in a Mexican American dialect. In Advances in Hispanic Linguistics: Papers from the 2nd Hispanic Linguistics Symposium, J. Gutiérrez-Rexach & F. Martínez-Gil (Eds), 16–27. Somerville MA: Cascadilla. Goodwin, C. 1981. Conversational Organization: Interaction between Speakers and Hearers. New York NY: Academic Press. Goodwin, C. 1995. Sentence construction within interaction. In Aspects of Oral Communication, U.M. Quasthoff (Ed.), 198–219. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Greenwood, K. 2002. Murder in Montparnasse. Crows Nest NSW: Allen & Unwin. Günthner, S. 2000. From concessive connector to discourse marker: The use of obwohl in everyday German interaction. In Cause, Condition, Concession, and Contrast: Cognitive and Discourse Perspectives, E. Couper-Kuhlen & B. Kortmann, (Eds), 439–468. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Haiman, J. 1994. Ritualization and the development of language. In Perspectives on Grammaticalization, W. Pagliuca (Ed.), 3–28. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hopper, P. 1987. Emergent grammar. Berkeley Linguistic Society 13: 139–157. Hopper, P. 1991. On some principles of grammaticalization. In Approaches to Grammaticalization, Vol. I, E. Traugott & B. Heine (Eds), 17–35. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hopper, P. 1998. Emergent grammar. In The New Psychology of Language: Cognitive and Functional Approaches to Language Structure, M. Tomasello (Ed.), 155–175. Mahwah NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Hopper, P. & Traugott, E. 2003. Grammaticalization. 2nd Edn. Cambridge: CUP. Itani, R. 1992. Japanese conjunction kedo (‘but’) in utterance-final use: A relevance-based analysis. English Linguistics 9: 265–283. Iwasaki, S. & Ono, T. 2001. “Sentence” in spontaneous spoken Japanese discourse. In Complex Sentences in Grammar and Discourse, J. Bybee & M. Noonan (Eds), 175–202. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Jefferson, G. 1980. On a failed hypothesis: “Conjunctionals” as overlap vulnerable. Two explorations of the organization of overlapping talk in conversation. Tilburg Papers in Language and Literature 28. Leitner, G. 2004. Australia’s Many Voices: Australian English – The National Language. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter.
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Lindström, A.K.B. 1997. Designing Social Actions: Grammar, Prosody, and Interaction in Swedish Conversation. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles. Local, J. & Kelly, J. 1986. Projection and ‘silences’: Notes on phonetic and conversational structure. Human Studies 9: 185–204. Mazeland, H. & Huiskes, M. 2001. Dutch but as a sequential conjunction: Its use as a resumptive marker. In Studies in Interactional Linguistics, M. Selting & E. Couper-Kuhlen (Eds), 141–169. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Mori, J. 1994. Functions of the connective datte in Japanese conversation. Japanese/Korean Linguistics 4: 147–163. Mori, J. 1999a. Well I may be exaggerating but ...: Self-qualifying clauses in negotiating of opinions among Japanese speakers. Human Studies 22: 447–473. Mori, J. 1999b. Negotiating Agreement and Disagreement in Japanese: Connective Expressions and Turn Construction. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Mulder, J. 2002. The but end in Australian English. Paper presented at Australian Linguistic Society Conference, Sydney. Mulder, J. & Thompson, S.A. 2006a. The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation. In Selected Papers from the 2005 Conference of the Australian Linguistic Society, K. Allan (Ed). http://www.als.asn.au Mulder, J. & Thompson, S.A. 2006b. The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation. Paper presented at the 37th Poznań Linguistic Meeting, Poznań, Poland. Mulder, J., Penry Williams, C., & Thompson, S.A. To appear. Final but in Australian conversation. In Comparative Studies of Australian and New Zealand English, P. Peters, P. Collins & A. Smith (Eds). Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Nakayama, T. & Ichihashi-Nakayama, K. 1997. Japanese keto: Discourse genre and grammaticization. Japanese/Korean Linguistics 6: 607–618. Stanford CA: CSLI. Ohori, T. 1995. Remarks on suspended clauses: A contribution to Japanese phraseology. In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 201–218. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ohori, T. 1997. Framing effects in Japanese non-final clauses. Berkeley Linguistics Society 23: 471–480. Okamoto, S. 1995. Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese. In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 219–246. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Onodera, N. 2000. Development of demo type connectives and na elements: Two extremes of Japanese discourse markers. Journal of Historical Pragmatics 1(1): 27–55. Park, Y-Y. 1996. The Korean connective nuntey in conversational discourse. In Japanese/Korean Linguistics 5, N. Akatsuka, S. Iwasaki, & S. Strauss (Eds), 131–147. Stanford CA: CSLI. Park, Y-Y. 1997. A Cross-linguistic Study of the Use of Contrastive Connectives in English, Korean, and Japanese Conversation. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles. Park, Y-Y. 1998a. Interactive grammar: The turn-final use of nuntey in Korean and kedo in Japanese. In Japanese/Korean Linguistics 8, Silva, D.J. (Ed), 45–59. Stanford CA: CSLI. Park, Y-Y. 1998b. A discourse analysis of contrastive connectives in English, Korean, and Japanese conversation. In Discourse Markers: Descriptions and Theory, A.H. Jucker & Z. Yael (Eds), 277–300. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Park, Y.-Y. 1999. The Korean connective -nuntey in conversational discourse. Journal of Pragmatics 31: 191–218.
Jean Mulder & Sandra A. Thompson Pawley, A. 2004. Australian vernacular English: Some grammatical characteristics. In A Handbook of Varieties of English: A Multimedia Reference Tool, Vol. 2, Morphology and Syntax, B. Kortmann & E.W. Schneider (Eds), 611–642. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Peters, P. 1995a. The Cambridge Australian English Style Guide. Cambridge: CUP. Peters, P. 1995b. The Pocket Macquarie Writers’ Guide. Milton, Queensland: The Jacaranda Press. Raymond, G. 2004. Prompting action: The stand-alone “so” in ordinary conversation. Research on Language and Social Interaction 37(2): 185–218. Schegloff, E.A. 1979. The relevance of repair to syntax-for-conversation. In Discourse and Syntax, T. Givón (Ed.), 261–286. New York NY: Academic Press. Schegloff, E.A. 1996a. Turn organization: One direction for inquiry into grammar and interaction. In Interaction and Grammar, E. Ochs, E.A. Schegloff & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 52–133. Cambridge: CUP. Schegloff, E.A. 1996b. Issues of relevance for discourse analysis: Contingency in action, Interaction, and co-participation context. In Discourse Processing: An Interdisciplinary Perspective, E. Hovy & D. Scott (Eds), 3–35. Berlin: Springer. Schegloff, E.A. 2007. Sequence Organization in Interaction: A Primer in Conversation Analysis, Vol. 1. Cambridge: CUP. Schiffrin, D. 1987. Discourse Markers. Cambridge: CUP. Sebba, M. 1997. Contact Languages: Pidgins and Creoles. Basingstoke: Macmillan Press. Selting, M., Auer, P., Barden, B., Bergmann, J., Couper-Kuhlen, E., Günthner, S., Meier, C., Quasthoff, U., Schlobinsky, P. & Uhmann, S. 1998. Gesprächanalytisches Transkriptionssystem (GAT). Linguistische Berichte 173: 91–122. [also available in condensed form in English in many issues of InLiST: http://www.uni-potsdam.de/u/inlist/] Sudbury, A. 2001. Falkland Islands English: A southern hemisphere variety? English WorldWide 22(1): 55–80. Suzuki, R. 1999. Grammaticization in Japanese: A study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Szczepek Reed, B. 2004. Turn-final intonation revisited. In Sound Patterns in Interaction: Cross-linguistic Studies from Conversation, E. Couper-Kuhlen & C. Ford (Eds), 97–117. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Tabor, W. & Traugott, E.C. 1998. Structural scope expansion and grammaticalization. In The Limits of Grammaticalization, A.G. Ramat & P.J. Hopper (Eds), 227–270. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Tanaka, H. 1999. Turn-taking in Japanese Conversation: A Study in Grammar and Interaction. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Thompson, S.A. 2002. ‘Object complements’ and conversation: towards a realistic account. Studies in Language 26(1): 125–164. Thompson, S.A. & Couper-Kuhlen, E. 2005. The clause as a locus of grammar and interaction. Discourse Studies 7(4/5): 481–505. (Reprinted in Language and Linguistics 6(4): 807–837, 2005). Traugott, E. & Heine, B. 1991. Grammaticalization, Vol. II. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Trudgill, P. 1983. On Dialect: Social and Geographical Perspectives. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Trudgill, P. 1986. Dialects in Contact. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Quotative tte in Japanese Its multifaceted functions and degrees of “subordination” Shigeko Okamoto
University of California, Santa Cruz
Tsuyoshi Ono
University of Alberta This study examines naturally occurring conversations with regard to the syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties of Japanese quotative particle tte in five different usages and argues that these usages constitute subcategories of the particle tte. Our analysis demonstrates complex and creative uses of tte in contiguity between an object complement marker (OCM) and a sentence-final particle (SFP) as well as between main and subordinate clauses. It also leads to a hypothesis that the SFP usage derives from the OCM usage. This study thus provides an additional piece of evidence for the non-discrete nature of linguistic categories and supports a view of grammar as a temporary outcome of constant change and fluidity in usage, reflecting the dynamic nature of human language.
1. Introduction1 A number of studies in functional and cognitive linguistics have demonstrated that linguistic categories are in general not discrete (e.g., Hopper & Thompson 1980; Langacker 1987). For instance, studies have shown that the distinction between main and subordinate clauses is better characterized in terms of a continuum (e.g., Haiman & Thompson 1984; Thompson & Mulac 1991; see also Minami 1974 and McGloin 2004 among others for discussions of this topic concerning Japanese). In this paper, we examine the use of Japanese quotative tte and address the issue of non-discreteness of grammatical categories. Japanese has many grammatical
. We would like to thank Ritva Laury for her insightful comments at various stages of this paper. The earlier version of this paper was presented at the 9th International Pragmatics Conference as part of the panel on Pragmatics of Clause Combining. We thank the panel discussants Auli Hakulinen and Ryoko Suzuki as well as the audience for their valuable comments. We would also like to thank Yuka Matsugu for helping us finalize the paper.
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
morphemes used as markers of “subordinate” clauses – i.e., conjunctive suffixes and particles (e.g., te “and”, tara “if/when”, ba “if ”, noni “although”, kara “because”) and complementizers (e.g., no, koto).2 These morphemes may also be used as sentence/ utterance-final particles, expressing various pragmatic meanings (e.g., Ohori 1995; Okamoto 1995; Nakayama & Ichihashi-Nakayama 1997; Suzuki 1999). This study focuses on one of these morphemes, namely the so-called quotative tte. While there are a number of different usages of this morpheme, which will be looked at in detail in ensuing sections, two representative usages are illustrated in Examples (1)–(3):3
(1) Talking about culture shock which Japanese people suffer from when they move back to Japan after living in the U.S.
sugoi tte itteta terrible tte say-prg-pst4 ‘(They) were saying that (counter-culture shock) is terrible.’5
(2) Talking about a student new to the ESL program where the speaker and the addressee study.
ano hito Nebada ni ita n-da tte. that person Nevada in be-pst aux tte ‘He was in Nevada (I heard).’
(3) A Japanese speaker is saying that one does not forget spoken Japanese by being immersed in English in the U.S. but one forgets kanji ‘Chinese characters’, which are used in Japanese writing.
demo kanji wasureru n-da tte but kanji forget aux tte ‘But (I tell you) that one forgets kanji (if one doesn’t use it).’
. The morpheme te “and” is usually treated as a subordinating suffix, because the predicate it follows is in a non-finite form. In traditional Japanese grammar the term keeshiki meeshi “nominalizer (lit. formal noun)” is used to refer to complementizers (e.g., no, koto). . Unless it is specified, all the examples used in this paper come from our data set, consisting of 12 audio-taped conversations. See Section 2 for more explanation of the data set. . The abbreviations used in this study are as follows: ah (addressee honorific); aux (auxiliary verb); comp (complementizer); conj (conjunction); cop (copula); dm (dative marker); gn (genitive marker); hsfx (honorific suffix); neg (negative); nom (nominalizer); om (object marker); prg (progressive); prt (particle); pst (past tense); qm (question marker); sm (subject marker); sfx (suffix); tm (topic marker). . Depending on the example sentence, we gloss tte differently according to what works best in each example – i.e., we translate it as “that,” or give a free translation (e.g., “I tell you”), or use tte without translating it into English.
Quotative tte in Japanese
The usage of tte in example (1) has been termed variously as a quotation marker, a case marker, a complementizer, or a quotative particle (e.g., Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyuujo 1951; Martin 1975; Makino & Tsutsui 1986; Okamoto 1995; Suzuki 1999). In this study, we will use the term “object complement marker,” or OCM.6 In this usage, tte serves to link an object complement clause to the main clause, while indicating the information expressed in the complement clause as quotative. The usage of tte in examples (2) and (3), on the other hand, has been treated as a sentence-final particle, or SFP (e.g., Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyuujo 1951; Okamoto 1995; Suzuki 1999). It does not have any clause-linking function but rather serves as an utterance-final pragmatic particle, or modality marker, indicating the epistemicity (evidentiality) of the utterance as being hearsay, as in example (2), or the speech-act type as the speaker’s insistence, as in example (3). Further, it has been argued that the SFP tte has evolved from the object complement marker tte through the process of grammaticization, or a functional reanalysis (See Okamoto 1995 for further discussion of the differences between the two usages of tte; see Suzuki 1999 and to appear for a study of the grammaticization process based on historical text data). In addition to these two usages, there are a number of other usages of tte and a close look at these usages in actual conversations reveals that the distinction between the OCM tte and SFP tte is not clear-cut, and that there are a number of other usages in which the tte clause exhibits a different degree of “subordination,” or independence, along with other syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties. (Note that the term “subordination” is used here in a broader sense to include both the so-called embedded clauses and subordinate clauses – cf. Matthiessen & Thompson 1988; Thompson 2002.) In the following section we examine different uses of tte clauses in our data with regard to the following syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties.7 Properties examined to identify different uses of the particle tte in the present data. Syntactic properties: a. Two clauses or one clause: Whether both the tte clause and the “main” clause are expressed or only the tte clause is expressed. b. Location of tte: Whether the particle tte occurs utterance-medially or utterancefinally; i.e., whether the tte clause precedes or follows the “main” clause.
.
As will be discussed later, the object here is not a prototypical direct object.
. This study focuses on the clause/sentence-final tte, and not the tte associated with a noun phrase (e.g., Yamada-san tte donna hito? “What kind of person is Yamada?”). Nor does it consider idiomatic or lexicalized uses of tte (e.g., X tte yuu ka “X or something”; X tte kanji “it’s like X”; tatte “even though”; datte “but”). All these uses of tte seem closely related to each other and pose an interesting topic for future research. Further, phonological properties may also be relevant. In this paper, we discuss them only briefly when we discuss a particular pragmatic property (i.e., the possibility of turn transition).
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
c. Main or subordinate clause: In relation to (a) above, whether the tte clause is considered a subordinate or main clause. d. Syntactic (or grammatical) function of the tte clause (e.g., complement clause, adjunct clause, or main clause). e. Co-occurrence with another SFP: Whether the particle tte can be followed by another particle, such as yo and ze, which are normally used sentence-finally. Semantic/pragmatic properties: a. Semantic and pragmatic functions of tte (e.g., indicating epistemicity/quotative, temporal, manner, concessive, and speech act types). b. Semantic redundancy of tte. c. Direct quotation: Whether the tte clause can represent a direct quotation or not. d. The possibility of turn transition, after the particle tte is used. e. Interpretation of an addressee honorific before tte: Related to (c) above, whether the target of the addressee honorific immediately preceding tte is the addressee of the quoted speech (in the case of a direct quotation) or that of the current speech. Note that although we have divided syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties as above, the two kinds of properties are closely related to each other, as will become evident in our discussion of each usage of tte in the following section. After analyzing our data with regard to those properties listed above, we will consider their implications concerning the following three inter-related theoretical issues: a. Usage and grammatical categories: How is the usage of a particular linguistic form related to its grammatical category? Do different usages give rise to different grammatical categories? b. Discreteness of grammatical categories: Can each usage of tte be established as a discrete grammatical category? Can the tte clause in each usage be characterized as either a dependent clause or an independent clause? c. Grammaticization process: Is it possible to hypothesize a particular order of development among the different usages of tte clause?
2. Data The data for this study are drawn mainly from twelve audio-taped and transcribed conversations, the length of each conversation ranging from a few minutes to half
Quotative tte in Japanese
an hour; all conversations are dyadic. Except for one, all conversations are relatively informal in that they are between familiar people, such as family members, friends, and acquaintances. We examine conversational data, because tte, which is considered more informal than the other quotative morpheme to, seems to occur much more frequently in spoken language (particularly, in informal speech) than in written language, and because spoken language is structurally much less rigid than written language and hence may enable us to see more easily the way various uses of tte emerge in response to various types of contextual factors. 3. M ulti-functionality of tte: Syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties We have analyzed our data with regard to the syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties of the particle tte listed in Section 1 and identified five different usages, as summarized below: Different usages of the particle tte identified in the present data Usage 1: X tte Y [tte as an object complement marker (OCM)] Usage 2: X tte Y [tte as a topic marker] Usage 3: X tte Y [tte as a conjunctive particle] Usage 4: Y X tte [tte as a semi-sentence-final particle] Usage 5: X tte [tte as a sentence-final particle] We argue that these different usages of tte as constituting sub-categories of the particle tte, and that these sub-categories are semi-separate grammatical categories in that their syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties are partially overlapping, as will be shown in this section (see also Section 4). In what follows we present examples of these five usages and discuss their syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties. 3.1 Usage 1: tte as an object complement marker Examples (4) and (5) illustrate the first usage of tte:
(4) MS, talking with HS, her mother, about the offer HS is making to MS.
1 MS: datte okaasan no okane jan. but mother gn money right? ‘But that’s your (mother’s) money, right?’ 2 HS: tsukattatte ii use-(even)-if OK ‘It’s OK if you use it.’
[yo]. prt
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
3 MS: [ii] OK
yo prt
mata again
sonna such
kashi loan
n dm
no. thing natchau become
jan. right?
‘It’s OK, such a thing. It’d become a loan again (I’d be owing you again), right?’ (3.0) 4 HS: mo, okaasan dasu tte itta n-da already mother pay tte say-pst aux
kara so
an that
toki. time
‘I (mother) already said I’d pay, so, at that time (But I already said at that time I’d pay, so …)’
(5) TT, talking about his future with ET, his mother.
1 TT: nanka sukina koto suru tame-ni something like thing do in-order-to ‘In order to do something I like’ 2 ET:
un yeah ‘Yeah’
3 TT: soo-yuu sentaku shi nakya-ikenai n-dattara such choice do must aux-if ‘if I must make such a choice’ 4 ET:
[un] yeah ‘yeah’
5 TT: [jibun] myself
de by
omou think
yappari as-expected
yan nakya-ikenee do must
tte tte
kedo. but
‘I think I have to do it by myself, as expected, but’
In (4), for example, the particle tte is followed by the verb itta “said’’. Almost all Usage 1 examples found in the data are of this kind, that is, tte followed by a verb of saying (yuu “say” or its variant). There were only a few instances in which tte
Quotative tte in Japanese
was followed by a verb of other cognitive and linguistic activity (i.e., omou ‘think’, kiku ‘hear’, and kaku ‘write’), as in example (5). In both (4) and (5), the tte clause functions as an object complement of the following verb, or a constituent of the main clause, in that it specifies the content of the speech act denoted by the main verb, and that it is indispensable syntactically and semantically.8 From this we may say that the particle tte is used to link the preceding clause to the main verb while marking the former as a complement clause of the main verb.9 Note that although we characterize the tte clause in Usage 1 as an object complement, it is not a prototypical direct-object complement noun clause in that it does not take a direct-object case marker o, as is the case with the nominalizer koto or no.10 (6) misu o mistake om
fusegoo to memo o prevent in-order-to note om
natta ga, come-to-pst but
sono that
memo note
suru yooni take conj
shita koto take-pst nom
o wasureru. om forget
‘I have come to take notes in order to prevent myself from making mistakes, but (then) I forget the fact that I took notes.’ (7) kiki kaeshi nagara Shiki wa karada ask back while Shiki tm body shite iku do go
no o nom om
ga sm
koochoku stiff
kanjite-ita. feel-prg-pst
‘While asking back (this question), Shiki felt that his body was getting stiff.’ (Examples (6) and (7) are from Yokoyama Hideo’s (2005: 34, 60) novel Han-ochi.)
In examples (6) and (7), for example, the particle o marks the role of the complement clause as the direct object. Further, the complement clause is followed by a . Here we draw on the common notion of complement (as opposed to adjunct), or constituent, as an indispensable element for a clause, but the indispensability of an element may not be clear-cut and may instead be a matter of degree. . It is not possible to delete tte in Examples (4) and (5) in Standard Japanese. However, in Kansai dialect, spoken in western part of Japan, for example, it is possible to delete te (i.e., the Kansai form of tte): e.g., Okaasan dasu (te) yuuta n ya kara “because I (Mother) said I would pay”. This suggests that the overt mention of tte may be redundant but serves to explicitly indicate the relation between the complement and the main verb. . Munro (1982) demonstrates “say” verbs are less than perfectly transitive cross-linguistically.
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
nominalizer koto or no, indicating that what precedes the particle o is a nominal. In other words, the clause before koto or no can be clearly regarded as an embedded, or dependent, clause that modifies the head noun koto or no. However, these properties are not applicable to the tte clause. Accordingly, we may say that the tte clause is less nominal and less dependent as compared to the complement clauses in examples like (6) and (7).11 The semantic/pragmatic function of tte in Usage 1 is to indicate the epistemic status of the proposition in the tte clause as quotative, or as being some kind of reported or reproduced speech/thought. Though the use of tte is grammatically required, its function is semantically redundant in that the epistemic status is also indicated by the main verb (Okamoto 1995; Suzuki 1999).12 This, however, does not mean that tte is synonymous with yuu “say”; tte in Usage 1 is redundant only to the extent that it indicates that the tte clause is quotative; that is, its meaning is more general than that of the main verb in that it can take different kinds of verbs (omou, kau, etc.), while at the same time “restrictive” in that it allows only verbs of cognitive and linguistic activity. Note also that the tte clause can represent either a direct or indirect quotation, as illustrated in (8) and (9), which are both constructed sentences: (8) kare boku ga yar-imasu tte itte-ta. he I sm do-ah tte say-pst ‘He was saying ‘I’ll do it.’ (9) kare ga yaru tte itte-ta. he sm do tte say-pst ‘(He) was saying he’ll do it.’
In (8) the tte clause represents a direct quotation. The pronoun boku ‘I’ refers to the speaker of the quoted utterance and the addressee honorific imasu is part of that utterance. In (9), on the other hand, the tte clause represents an indirect quotation and hence neither the pronoun boku ‘I’ for the speaker of the quoted speech nor an addressee honorific is used. Lastly, in terms of prosody, the tte clause continues to the main clause without any break, and hence a turn-transition is unlikely to occur immediately after tte is uttered. Nor is it possible to add a certain sentence-final particle
. Note also that speech act verbs like yuu “say” and omou “think” can take a direct object noun phrase marked by the particle o (e.g., Boku wa sonna koto o iwanakatta. “I didn’t say such a thing.”). This may also suggest that the tte clause is not a prototypical direct object. . Suzuki (1999) characterizes the two inherent properties of the quotative function as reproduction and distance.
Quotative tte in Japanese
(e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte, as shown in (4'), a modified version of line 4 of (4):13
(4') MS, talking with HS, her mother, about the offer HS is making to MS.
4 HS:
mo, okaasan dasu tte *yo itta already mother pay tte prt say-pst
n-da aux
kara so
an that
toki. time
‘I (mother) already said I’d pay, so, at that time. (But I already said at that time I’d pay, so …)’
Usage 1 of tte can be summarized as follows: The tte clause is followed by the verb in the main clause. The particle tte serves as an object complement marker that syntactically links the tte clause to the main verb while at the same time indicating that the tte clause is an object complement of the main verb, representing reported speech. The tte clause may represent direct or indirect speech. The end of the tte clause alone is unlikely to become a turn-transition point. Nor can certain SFPs (e.g., yo, ze) be added immediately after tte. 3.2 Usage 2: tte as a topic marker Examples (10) and (11) illustrate the second usage of tte: (10) MS, looking at an advertisement in a catalog. 1 MS:
kono kaban hoshii kedo na:: nijuuni-man this bag want but prt 220,000-yen
ga juugo-man tte doo yuu koto?14 sm 150,000-yen tte what say thing
‘I want this bag, but 220,000 yen is 150,000 yen tte, what does (that) mean?’ (1.0) 2 MS:
ookii no ka big comp qm ‘I wonder if it’s big.’
na:: prt
. Note that there are particles such as ne and sa which can be added after tte. These particles can occur both sentence-medially and sentence-finally. . Note that in the tte-clause, juugo-man “150,000” is a nominal predicate whose subject is nijuuni-man “220,000”, marked with a so-called subject marker ga. A copula such as da and desu can be inserted between juugo-man “150,000” and tte.
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(11) M asks a question about the class which K just mentioned. 1 M:
kurasu ga isshuukan ni ik [kai tte] class sm one week in once tte ‘Class (meets) once a week tte.’
2 K:
[n = ] n = mhm mhm
3 M:
rokuji kara juuji toka na no? 6-p.m. from 10-p.m. like prt prt ‘is it like from 6 p.m. to 10 p.m.?’
As in the case of Usage 1, the particle tte appears utterance-medially. In both examples (10) and (11) the tte clause serves as a topic, or subject, and what follows tte is its predicate.15 As in Usage 1, the tte clause in this usage can be considered a constituent part of the main clause.16 It has been said that tte in this usage is an abbreviation of to yuu no wa or tte yuu no wa ‘what is said (lit. to/tte say nom wa)’, in which the nominalizer no is followed by the topic marker wa (e.g., Martin 1975). Or to put it differently, Usage 2 tte syntactically allows an insertion of yuu no wa immediately after it. This property in part supports the characterization of the tte clause as the topic of the sentence. In other words, Usage 2 is associated with a grammatical context that is quite different from that of Usage 1. These two different patterns of use then seem to give rise to different types of tte (as a OCM or topic marker), although the two are closely related to each other and may be better regarded as constituting semi-separate grammatical sub-categories (see 4.1 for further discussion). Thus, tte in Usage 2 can be said to serve not only for linking the preceding clause to the element that follows, but also for indicating that the tte clause is a topic rather than an object complement. Note, however, that the tte clause in Usage 2 cannot be regarded as a prototypical topic noun clause or embedded clause, because it is marked neither by the topic marker wa nor any nominalizer (e.g., no), although as mentioned above, it can be substituted by to/tte yuu no wa, which contains the particle wa. The semantic/pragmatic function of this type of tte is partly similar to that of Usage 1; that is, tte indicates that the content of the tte clause is quotative. However, unlike Usage 1, this quotative function is not semantically redundant, since the tte
. Our characterization of tte in Usage 2 as a topic marker follows the characterization in traditional Japanese grammar (e.g., Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyuujo 1951; Martin 1975; Makino & Tsutsui 1986). . The grammatical role of the tte clause in Usage 2 seems to be limited to the subject. Accordingly, the tte clause can be considered a constituent of the clause.
Quotative tte in Japanese
clause is not followed by any explicit mention of a verb of saying (e.g., yuu) or some other linguistic activity (e.g., kaku “write”). As in Usage 1, the tte clause in Usage 2 can represent either a direct or indirect quotation. Further, if an addressee honorific is used before tte, its target is interpreted as the addressee of the directly quoted speech. Further, largely due to the prosodic property, it is unlikely that the end of the tte clause is construed as utterance-final and become a turn-transition point. Nor is it possible to add certain SFPs (e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte. To summarize, the particle tte in Usage 2 occurs utterance-medially, but it is not followed by any overt speech act verb, as is the case in Usage 1. The particle tte in this usage is used to indicate that the clause that precedes tte is the topic of the main clause and represents a reported speech. This quotative function of tte is not redundant, as in the case of Usage 1. The tte clause can represent either a direct or indirect quotation. The target of an addressee honorific used before tte is the addressee of the quoted speech. The prosodic feature also suggests that it is unlikely that the tte clause is construed as a completed utterance that can trigger a turn-transition. Nor is it possible to add certain SFPs (e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte. 3.3 Usage 3: tte as a conjunctive particle Examples (12)–(14) illustrate the third usage of tte. (12) NK, talking with MS about her work schedule. 1 NK: de yo-ji-han ni enchoo matte, and 4: 30-p.m. at director wait-and ‘And at 4: 30, I wait for the director (of the kindergarten) and’ 2 MS:
[u::n] yeah ‘Yeah’
3 NK: [otsukare]sama deshita:: tiring-hsfx cop-ah-pst
tatatata rokkaa tatatata locker
itte, kigaete otsukaresama go-and change-and tiring-hsfx
tte kaetchau no. tte go-home prt
de::su cop-ah
‘I (say) otsukaresama deshita:: ‘(lit.) It was tiring’, and dashing to the locker like tatatata, and change, and otsukaresama de::su tte, and come home.’ 4 MS:
ii ne. good prt ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
(13) TI, talking with YO, her former professor, about her experience as a graduate student in the United States. 1 TI:
…demo u::n saisho no semesutaa da kara tte but uh first gn semester cop because tte ‘But uh (I’m not doing well) because it’s the first semester tte’
2 YO:
un yeah ‘Yeah’
3 TI:
jibun o nagusamete, myself om comfort-and ‘I comforted myself and’
4 YO:
un yeah ‘yeah’
5 TI:
yatteta n-desu yo. do-prg-pst aux prt ‘I was doing’
(14) NK and MS, trying to decide the time for MS to visit NK’s home. 1 NK: demo M-chan ga yoru osoi tte yuu n-dattara, but M-sfx sm night late tte say aux-if ‘But if you (M) say you will be (coming) late at night’ 2 MS:
un. yeah ‘Yeah’
3 NK: chotto dekakete, a-little-bit go-out-and ‘I can go out a little bit and’ 4 MS:
un. yeah ‘yeah’
5 NK: sono ato [hayaku], that after quickly ‘after that, (I can return) quickly’ 6 MS:
[yoru] osoi tte nan-ji night late tte what-time
nan-ji gurai made, what-time about until
‘Late at night tte, until about what time, what time?’
Quotative tte in Japanese
(0.2) 7
heeki na no? all-right prt prt ‘is it all right (to come to your place)?’
As seen in examples (12)–(14), the particle tte in Usage 3 occurs utterancemedially, as in Usages 1 and 2. However, the tte clause in this usage does not function like a constituent of the main clause. Rather, it serves as a satellite, or adjunct, clause, preceding the main clause.17 Both syntactically and semantically, this type of tte may be considered a conjunctive particle, combining two clauses, while indicating that the tte clause is in some kind of circumstantial relation vis-à-vis the following main clause: in example (12), the tte clause is in a temporal relation with the main clause (i.e., ‘After saying otsukaremasa deesu, I go home’); in (13) it is construed as the manner in which the action expressed by the following clauses is performed (i.e., ‘Saying it’s because it’s the first semester (I’m not doing well), I comforted myself ’); and in (14) it is in a concessive relation (i.e., ‘Although you say I can come to your place late at night, until about what time is it all right?’). To the extent that native speakers can interpret tte in Usage 3 as ‘(after) saying’ or ‘although (you) say’, we may argue that the originally implied pragmatic meaning (i.e., temporal, manner, or concessive) is becoming part of the meaning of tte in Usage 3 through repeated uses. The treatment of tte in Usage 3 as a conjunctive particle is in part supported by the fact that in examples (12) and (13) tte can be substituted by tte itte ‘saying that … ’, and in example (14) it can be substituted by tte itte mo ‘even though (you) say that .… ’ In other words, it is syntactically possible to add either itte or itte mo after tte. Such an addition is not possible in the case of Usages 1 and 2. This difference supports the treatment of tte in Usages 1 and 2 as belonging to semiseparate categories in that the tte clause in the former cannot be regarded as constituting the same kind of adverbial clause as in Usage 3. As the substitutability of tte in Usage 3 with tte itte or tte itte mo indicates, the basic semantic/pragmatic functions of tte in Usage 3 is quotative, but this function is not redundant as in the case of Usage 1. Further, as in Usages 1 and 2, the tte clause in Usage 3 can represent either a direct or indirect quotation. And if an addressee honorific is used before tte, its target is interpreted as the addressee of the quoted speech, and not that of the current speech. Again, as in Usages 1 and 2, the prosodic feature indicates that a turn transition is unlikely to occur immediately after tte . It is similar to an adverbial subordinate clause in traditional grammar, but this term is not used here, because it is often unclear whether the tte clause in this usage is a coordinate or subordinate clause (see Matthiessen & Thompson 1988 for a discussion on this issue).
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is uttered in Usage 3. Nor is it possible to add certain SFPs (e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte. Usage 3 tte can be summarized as follows: The particle tte in Usage 3 is used like a conjunctive particle that links the tte clause as a satellite clause to the main clause. It indicates the epistemic status of the tte clause as quotative. This quotative function is not redundant, as in the case of Usage 1. It also indicates that the tte clause, or the satellite clause, is in a circumstantial relation (e.g., temporal, manner, or concessive) vis-à-vis the main clause. The tte clause can represent either a direct or indirect quotation. The target of an addressee honorific used before tte is the addressee of the quoted speech. Prosodically, it is unlikely that the end of the tte clause is construed as utterance-final and become a turn-transition point. Nor is it possible to add certain SFPs (e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte. 3.4 Type 4: tte as a semi-sentence-final particle Unlike Usages 1, 2, and 3, the tte clause in Usage 4 follows the “main” clause. There may be three subtypes of Usage 4 (4a, 4b, and 4c), each corresponding to Usage 1, 2, or 3.18 But we treat the particle tte in all three subtypes as a semi-sentence-final particle (see below for further discussion). Example (15) illustrates the first subtype of Usage 4 (i.e., 4a): (15) Reminding the addressee that he had told the speaker that he came to the U.S. escaping from Japan. da=tte itta= because say-pst ‘Because (you) said,’ omae nigete kita tte= you escape come-pst tte ‘you came escaping (from Japan) tte.’
As we can see in (15), this usage is closely related to Usage 1. We may say that it is derived from Usage 1 by inversion (toochi) of the two clauses. The tte clause, then, can be considered the object complement of the verb of saying itta “said” that is in the clause preceding the tte clause and the particle tte as an OCM. However, the following example suggests that this characterization is not quite appropriate.
. We did not find an example for Usage 4b, but as will be discussed below, this usage seems possible.
Quotative tte in Japanese
(16) [from a T.V. drama: Maynard (2001: 58)] koo yuu this-way say
n-da, aux
anta you
ja-nai tte, sukina wake nai cop-neg tte love reason neg
nanka suki something-like love tte. tte
‘(She) says like this. I don’t love you tte, there’s no way I love you tte.’
As in (15), the verb of saying in (16) precedes the tte clause, which is then followed by another tte clause. However, these tte clauses in (16) cannot be regarded simply as an instance of inversion, or right dislocation, because koo ‘this way’ in the first clause is the explicit complement of yuu, and because placing the two tte clauses in (16) before koo yuu n da simply yields an ungrammatical sentence.19 Thus, neither tte clause in (16) can be regarded as a constituent of the preceding clause koo yuu n da. Rather, the two tte clauses are increments that offer elaborations of koo (Schegloff 1996). The verb (yuu n da ‘she said) is not overtly expressed with these tte clauses, perhaps because it is inferable from the immediately preceding clause. Syntactically, then, tte in (16) does not directly link the preceding clause to the explicit verb of saying in the first clause. Rather, it links it to the implicit verb of saying and can be considered an OCM only in this implicit relation. At the same time, it can be also regarded as an SFP as it occurs utterance-finally, although we may say that it is not a genuine SFP because of this link to the implicit verb. In other words, it seems most appropriate to regard the particle tte in Usage 4 as having an intermediate status between an OCM and an SFP. Accordingly, we call it as a semi-SFP (and as a semi-OCM). Based on the foregoing argument, we treat the tte clause in example (15) in the same manner as that in example (16); that is, it is not a result of the inversion of the two clauses, but rather a case involving an increment to what was said in the preceding clause. No overt verb of saying is expressed in the tte clause in (16), because it is inferable from the preceding clause, or can be linked to such a verb implicitly. In other words, the tte clause in this usage can be considered more independent than that in Usage 1, although it is not fully independent in that it is linked to an implicit verb of saying evoked by the preceding clause. The particle tte in (15) thus can be considered a semi-SFP. The basic semantic/pragmatic function of tte in Usage 4 is quotative, and this function is not fully redundant (as is in the case of Usage 1), because tte is not followed by an explicit mention of the verb (of saying) and instead linked to it only
.
A similar example is discussed in Ono (2006).
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
implicitly. As in Usages 1–3, the tte clause in Usage 4 can represent a direct or indirect quotation. With regard to the possibility of turn transition, once the tte clause is produced, it can become a turn-transition point since the utterance is likely to be construed as complete. Example (10') illustrates the second type of Usage 4 (i.e., 4b), which can be analyzed in a similar way as Examples (15) and (16) are analyzed. We constructed this example based on line 1 of Example (10) since we didn’t find such examples in our data. We suspect that we would find examples of this type in a larger database, but until confirmed by actual data this usage should remain as a hypothesized type. For this reason, we will not discuss this example further: (10') doo yuu koto? nijuuni-man ga juugo-man tte what say thing 220,000-yen sm 150,000-yen tte ‘What does (that) mean? 220,000 yen is 150,000 yen tte?’
Example (17) illustrates the third subtype of Usage 4 (i.e., 4c) tte: (17) HS, asking MS if she will call her fiancé. 1 HS:
M ga denwa-sun no? M sm call prt ‘Are you (MS) going to call (him)?’
2 MS:
un. yeah ‘Yeah.’
(0.3) 3 HS:
kaette kita yo come back-pst prt ‘I’m back tte?’
4 MS:
soo. right ‘Right.’
tte? tte
This usage of tte is closely related to Usage 3 in that the tte clause provides circumstantial information for the clause that precedes the tte clause, and that tte can be interpreted as tte itte “saying that”. In (17), for example, the tte clause refers to the manner in which the action expressed in the preceding clause is performed (i.e., how the addressee made a phone call; “Are you going to call him, saying you are back?”). However, as in the case of Usage 4a, tte here is used utterance-finally and, hence, on the surface does not serve as a conjunctive particle for linking two explicitly stated clauses. The speaker could have repeated denwa-sun no? after the tte clause in line 3, but she didn’t, because it is understood and need not be expressed.
Quotative tte in Japanese
Thus we can say that tte here functions as a conjunctive particle only to the extent that the utterance in line 3 is linked to the implicit clause evoked by the preceding clause. But it can also be considered an SFP because of its surface configuration, although again it is not a full-fledged SFP because of its implicit link to another clause and also because of the fact that another SFP cannot be added, unlike the case in Usage 5 (see below). The basic semantic/pragmatic function of tte in Usage 4 is quotative. Further, in Usage 4a this quotative function is not fully redundant (as in the case of Usage 1), because tte is not followed by an explicit mention of the verb (of saying) and instead linked to it only implicitly. In Usages 4b and 4c, on the other hand, the quotative function is clearly not redundant. As in Usages 1–3, the tte clause in all three subtypes of Usage 4 can represent a direct or indirect quotation. The target of an addressee honorific, if used before tte, is the addressee of the quoted speech. With regard to the possibility of turn transition, once the tte clause is mentioned, it is likely that the utterance is construed as complete and that it can become a turn-transition point. However, even though tte in this usage appears utterance-finally and gives the utterance a sense of completion, it cannot be followed by another SFP (e.g., yo, ze), as illustrated in (16'), a modified version of (16), while it can in the case of Usage 5 (see 2.5 below). The tte clause in (16) can be considered a direct quotation because of the pronoun anta ‘you’, which refers to the addressee of the quoted utterance. This observation suggests that the particle tte in Usage 4 is not a full-fledged SFP.20 (16') [from a T.V. drama: Maynard (2001: 58)] koo yuu n-da, anta this-way say aux you ja-nai tte *yo, cop-neg tte prt
nanka suki something-like love
sukina wake nai love reason neg
tte *yo. tte prt
‘(She) says like this. I don’t love you tte, there’s no way I love you tte.’
In sum, the particle tte in Usage 4 is a semi-SFP, serving to link the preceding clause only implicitly to the preceding clause (as an OCM, topic marker, or conjunctive particle). It indicates the evidential status of the tte clause is quotative. The tte clause can represent either a direct or indirect quotation. The target of an
. If the SFP yo is added after each instance of tte, as shown in (16’), the two tte clauses will be interpreted as hearsay and the referent of anta “you” as the addressee of the current utterance. That is, the whole utterance will be interpreted as “She says like this. I hear she doesn’t love you. I hear there’s no way that she loves you,” which is simply incoherent.
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
addressee honorific used before tte is the addressee of the quoted speech. Once the tte is mentioned, it can become a turn-transition point. However, it is not possible to add another SFP (e.g., yo, ze) immediately after tte. Characterization of tte as a semi-SFP also means that the tte clause is not a fully independent clause. 3.5 Usage 5: tte as sentence-final particle Finally, examples (18) and (19) illustrate the last usage of tte. (18) HS, commenting on the cakes that MS had bought. 1 HS:
ikko gohyaku-en no keeki? one-piece five-hundred-yen gn cake ‘A cake of five hundred yen each?’
2 MS: soo da yo. [sonna no] datte futsuu jan. right aux prt such thing but normal isn’t-it? ‘That’s right. But that sort of thing is normal, isn’t it?’ 3 HS:
[wa::] wow ‘Wow!’
4
oneechan older-sister-sfx
no gn
‘Sister, these cakes are five hundred yen a piece tte.’
5 MS:
nan de? why ‘Why?’
6 HS:
suggoi. nan-de sonna okane, aru no? awesome why such money have prt ‘Awesome! Why do you have such money?’
keeki da cake cop
ikko gohyaku-en one-piece five-hundred-yen tte yo. tte prt
(19) ET and TT, talking about TT’s future career. 1 ET: sugo::i kibishii kara. sonna namatchoroi mon ja-nai very tough so such easy thing cop-neg ‘It (Living as a professional sports player) is very tough, so it’s not such an easy thing (to do).’
Quotative tte in Japanese
2 TT:
rya:: wakatteru kedo::21 that understand but ‘I know that, but’
3 ET:
un:: yeah ‘yeah’
4 TT:
dakara yaru n-jan. yaritai mon. so do right? do-want prt ‘so I’ll do, right? I want to.’
5 ET:
un:: yeah
seekatsu life
‘yeah, more, right now you are having this kind of life, but’
6 TT:
ya wakatteru tte. no understand tte
wakatte understand
‘No, I know that tte. I know that well.’
motto:: ima nante anta konna more now such you this-kind-of shiteru kedo, do-prg but
sore that
wa tm
juubun enough
masu. ah
In these examples, the particle tte appears utterance-finally, as in Usage 4, but the tte clause is not preceded by any explicit clause containing a cognitive or linguistic verb, unlike Usage 4. We argue that the tte clause here constitutes an independent clause. In the case of Usage 4, the tte clause can be linked to the immediately preceding linguistic context in that it is construed as having some kind of semantic relation to the preceding clause. However, in the case of Usage 5, this is generally not the case. For example, in (18) it is possible to interpret the tte as ‘(she) is saying that’ or ‘(I) heard’. But there is no explicit mention of such a verb (itteru or kiita) in the immediately preceding context to which the tte clause can be linked as its object complement. Yet, what is meant by tte in line 4 in (18) is clear; it indicates that the tte clause is a hear-say or indirect quotation. Similarly, in example (19), tte in line 6 may be interpreted as something like ‘(I)’m saying that …, aren’t I?” but again there is no verbal expression of this kind in the immediately preceding context. The semantic/pragmatic function of tte in (19) is slightly different from that in (18): in (19) tte is not only quotative but it also indicates the speech act type .
TT produces rya, which we interpret to be a reduced form of sorya “that”.
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
of the utterance as being the speaker’s strong insistence. This additional meaning is particularly evident in example (19), in which TT repeats in line 6 what he said in line 2, since his interlocutor, his mother, keeps admonishing him, while ignoring what he has already said in line 2. There are additional pieces of evidence that support the status of tte in Usage 5 as a “genuine” SFP. One of them is the fact that tte in this usage can be followed by another sentence-final particle (i.e., yo), as illustrated in line 4 of example (18), although this is not always the case.22 On the other hand, as mentioned previously, it is not possible to add such a particle after tte in the other four usages. In particular, the difference between Usages 4 and 5 with regard to the possibility of adding another SFP after tte supports the treatment of these two usages of tte as different from each other – as a semi-SFP and an SFP. With regard to the possibility of turn transition, once the tte clause is uttered, it is likely to be considered utterance-final and can trigger a turn transition. Further, as mentioned previously, in Usages 1–4, if an addressee honorific precedes the particle tte, it is construed as part of the quoted speech; that is, it is used to show respect for the addressee of the quoted speech rather than the addressee of the current speech. In contrast, if an addressee honorific immediately precedes the particle tte in Usage 5, its target is interpreted as the addressee of the current speech act rather than the addressee of the quoted speech (see also Okamoto 1995). For example, in (18’), a modified version of line 4 of example (18), the addressee honorific desu is not for the addressee of the reported speech. Even if the original utterance did not include the honorific desu, it is possible to use desu as in (18') to show respect for the addressee of the current speech act. (18') ikko gohyaku-en no keeki desu one-piece five-hundred-yen gn cake cop-ah ‘These cakes are five hundred yen a piece tte.’
tte. tte
This interpretation is supported by the fact that if the speaker wants to quote directly the original speech which included desu, then another copula (da) needs to be added, as shown in (18''): (18'') ikko gohyaku-en no keeki one-piece five-hundred-yen gn cake ‘These cakes are five hundred yen a piece tte.’
desu da cop-ah cop
tte. tte
. When the SFP tte indicates the speaker’s insistence as in example (19), it cannot be followed by the particle yo, for example. This is probably because the sense of insistence is incompatible with yo, which indicates a mild insistence (i.e., “I’m telling you”).
Quotative tte in Japanese
These observations all demonstrate that the tte clause of Usage 5 can be regarded as the main clause and hence that tte is neither an OCM nor a conjunctive particle, but an SFP, serving as a modality marker. In sum, in Usage 5 only the tte clause is expressed. The tte clause in this usage can be regarded as an independent clause and the particle tte serves as an SFP, which expresses the modality (i.e., the epistemicity and/or speech act type) for the clause that precedes it. This semantic/pragmatic function of tte is not redundant as in Usage 1. The tte clause cannot represent a direct quotation unless tte is preceded by a copula. Once tte is uttered as an SFP, it can become a turn-transition point. Further, tte can be followed by another SFP (e.g., yo, ze). 4. Discussion: Theoretical issues The foregoing analyses show considerable versatility of the morpheme tte. In this section we consider the following three inter-related theoretical issues raised by the results of our analyses: (a) the relation of usage and grammatical categories, (b) discreteness of grammatical categories, and (c) grammaticization process. 4.1 Usage and grammatical categories On the basis of the syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties, we have identified five different usages of the particle tte and assigned different but inter-related grammatical sub-categories to them: (1) tte as an “object” complement marker, (2) tte as a topic marker, (3) tte as a conjunctive particle, (4) tte as a semi-sentence-final particle, and (5) tte as a sentence-final particle. The similarities and differences in the properties of the five sub-categories of the particle tte observed in Section 3 are summarized below: a. Number of clauses: In Usages 1–3 both the tte clause and main clause are expressed; in Usage 4 the two clauses are expressed but they are both semi-independent; and, in Usage 5 only the tte clause is expressed as an idependent clause. b. Location of tte: In Usages 1–3 the particle tte appears utterance-medially, while in Usages 4 and 5 it appears utterance-finally. In Usage 4, the tte clause follows the clause that could be considered a semi-main clause, but in Usage 5 only the tte clause is expressed. In other words, tte in Usages 1–3 can serve as an explicit clause-linking particle, but tte in Usage 4 has such a function only implicitly, and tte in Usage 5 does not serve such a function (see also (c) below). c. Grammatical functions of tte: In Usages 1 and 2 the tte clause is considered a constituent of the main clause, and the particle tte serves as an object complement marker (Usage 1) or a topic marker (Usage 2). In Usage 3 the tte clause is a satellite
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
clause of the main clause and the particle tte indicates that the former is in a circumstantial relation (i.e., temporal, manner, or concessive) to the latter. In Usage 4 the particle tte appears utterance-finally, but it is implicitly linked to the preceding clause, and hence regarded as a semi-SFP. In Usage 5 tte is considered a full-fledged SFP. d. Semantic redundancy of tte: Usage 1 differs from the other four usages in that the particle tte is followed by an explicit verb of cognitive or linguistic activity, such as yuu “say” and omou “think”, while this is not the case in the other four usages. That is, in Usage 1 the quotative function of tte is redundant (see also footnote ix), but it is not in Usages 2–5. In the latter, the verb of saying or hearing is implied as part of the meaning of this particle, which can be interpreted variously as tte/to yuu no wa, tte itte(mo), or tte itteta/tte kiita/itteru daro. e. Quotative function: In all five usages the particle tte indicates the quotative nature of the tte clause. In Usages 1–4 the tte clause can represent either a direct or indirect quotation, whereas that in Usage 5 cannot represent direct speech unless tte is followed by a copula (i.e., da/desu tte). f. The possibility of turn transition: When the particle tte appears utterancefinally, as in Usages 4 and 5, it can be a turn-transition point, as seen in examples (17) and (18). In Usages 1–3, however, a turn transition does not normally occur immediately after the particle tte largely because of the prosodic feature of the utterance involving tte, and if it does, it is likely to be interpreted as an interruption by the interlocutor. g. Co-occurrence with an SFP such as yo and ze: The particle tte can be followed by another sentence-final particle in Usage 5, but not in the other four usages. h. Behavior with an addressee honorific: The addressee honorific appearing before the particle tte in Usages 1–4 is used for the addressee of the reported speech, whereas that in Usage 5 is for the addressee of the current speech act. These properties of five usages of tte show that while many of them overlap with each other, they are at the same time not identical. It seems that the particle tte is repeatedly used in five partially different contexts, which then give rise to different sub-categories of tte along with specific syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties. In other words, our analyses suggest that grammatical categories are shaped by usages, acquiring a set of syntactic and semantic/pragmatic properties for each category. 4.2 Discreteness of grammatical categories As seen in our discussion of the properties of tte above (i.e., (a)–(h)) in Section 4.1, there are partial overlaps of the properties among the five sub-categories of the particle tte, indicating that these categories are closely related and cannot be considered completely distinct from each other. Further, our treatment of tte in
Quotative tte in Japanese
Usage 4, in which tte is regarded as a semi-SFP, clearly shows that these categories are not completely discontinuous from each other. Moreover, even within the same Usage there may be “different” usages, as illustrated by examples (15) and (16), reproduced below. (15) Reminding the addressee that he had told the speaker that he came to the U.S. escaping from Japan. da=tte itta= because say-pst ‘Because (you) said,’ omae nigete kita tte= you escape come-pst tte ‘you came escaping (from Japan) tte.’ (16) [from a T.V. drama: Maynard (2001: 58)] koo this-way
yuu n-da, anta say aux you
nanka something-like
ja-nai tte, sukina wake nai cop-neg tte love reason neg
suki love
tte. tte
‘(She) says like this. I don’t love you tte, there’s no way I love you tte.’
As discussed earlier, the order of the main and tte clauses in example (15) can be reversed, but not in (16) since the main clause in (16) already has an object complement koo. In this respect the tte clause in (16) may be considered more independent than that in (15). The finding that these categories are not discrete from each other is not particularly surprising; rather, it is a result we expect from examining naturally occurring data. And they seem to be most easily explained as consequences of ever-lasting on-going historical changes (see below). In this relation, our analyses also reveal that whether the tte clause can be considered a dependent or independent clause is a matter of degree. Studies have shown that the distinction between main and subordinate clauses is better characterized in terms of a continuum (e.g., Haiman & Thompson 1984; Thompson & Mulac 1991; Englebretson 2003). Our study of tte clauses supports this idea. Among the five usages, the tte clause in Usages 1 and 2 may be considered least independent in that the tte clause functions like a constituent, or complement noun clause in the main clause. The tte clause in Usage 3 may be considered more independent than that of Usages 1 and 2 in that it is not a main-clause constituent but rather a satellite clause linked to the main clause. The tte clause in Usage 4 seems somewhat more independent than that of Usage 3 in that it cannot clearly be analyzed as belonging to the preceding “main” clause because tte is not directly linked to it. Note further that even within Usage 4 some of the tte clauses seem more independent
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono
than the others, as pointed out above. And finally, the tte clause in Usage 5 can be regarded as constituting an independent clause. 4.3 Grammaticization process One question that arises is whether the five usages of tte are developmentally ordered or not. It has been hypothesized that the SFP tte (our Usage 5) derives from the OCM tte (our Usage 1) through a grammaticization process (Okamoto 1995; Suzuki 1999). In order to see the validity of this hypothesis as well as that of any other hypotheses regarding the derivational history concerning the different (sub-)categories of tte, we need to closely examine historical data (see Suzuki 2007). Based on our synchronic data, we may hypothesize, for example, that the SFP tte (Usage 5) derives from the OCM tte (Usage 1) by way of the semi-SFP tte (Usage 4). That is, the proposed gradualness of subordinate and main clauses can be analyzed as corresponding to the change from the former to the latter.23 Note, however, that while we may hypothesize that the SFP tte is derived from the OCM tte through grammaticization, this does not mean that the former has ceased to exist. The fact that all six types of tte usages were found in the present data shows that uses reflecting different stages of grammaticization often co-exist synchronically (Hopper 1991; Heine 1997).
5. Conclusion The contemporary data examined in this study demonstrate complex and creative uses of tte in syntactic, semantic, and pragmatic contiguity between an OCM and an SFP as well as between main and subordinate clauses. This study thus provides an additional piece of evidence for the non-discrete nature of linguistic categories. It also illustrates the idea that grammatical categories are inseparable from usages in that the latter shape the former. In our view, there is nothing surprising in these findings. Once one takes the premise that language constantly evolves, which we think most linguists take as given, it is only natural to find various structural variations caught in the course of its evolution. What is more puzzling to us is the fact that the majority of existing linguistic theories do not reflect this rather commonsensical yet fundamental aspect of human language (see Langacker 1987, 1991; Hopper 1998 for exceptions). Prescriptive attitudes which have crept into linguists’ mind may be responsible for this theoretical trend. Such attitudes are . A similar report has been made regarding the et(tä)-clause in Finnish (Seppänen & Laury 2007), but cf. Laury & Seppänen this volume.
Quotative tte in Japanese
usually accompanied by the standard methodology of constructing data based on rather static grammatical categories which are predetermined without being tested against data. Our study illustrates an alternative approach in which a close examination of authentic data enables us to understand the complex and dynamic nature of grammatical phenomena.
References Englebretson, R. 2003. Searching for Structure. The Problem of Complementation in Colloquial Indonesian Conversation [Studies in Discourse and Grammar 13]. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Haiman, J. & Thompson, S.A. 1984. ‘Subordination’ in Universal Grammar. In Proceedings of the Tenth Annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society, C. Brugmann & M. Macauley (Eds), 510–523. Berkeley CA: Berkeley Linguistics Society. Heine, B. 1997. Possession: Cognitive Sources, Forces, and Grammaticalization. Cambridge: CUP. Hopper, P. 1991. On some principles of grammaticization. In Approaches to Grammaticization, Vol. I, E.C. Traugott & B. Heine (Eds), 17–35. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hopper, P. 1998. Emergent grammar. In The New Psychology of Language: Cognitive and functional approaches to language structure, Vol. I, M. Tomasello (Ed.), 155–175. Mahwah NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Hopper, P. & Thompson, S.A. 1980. Transitivity in grammar and discourse. Language 56: 251–299. Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyuujo. 1951. Gendaigo no joshi jodooshi: Yoohoo to jitsuree (Particles and Auxiliaries in Modern Japanese: Usage and Examples). Tokyo: Kokuritsu Kokugo Kenkyuujo. Langacker, R.W. 1987. Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, Vol. I: Theoretical Prerequisites. Stanford CA: Stanford University Press. Langacker, R.W. 1991. Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, Vol. II: Descriptive Applications. Stanford CA: Stanford University Press. Makino, S. & Tsutsui, M. 1986. A Dictionary of Basic Japanese Grammar. Tokyo: Japan Times. Martin, S.E. 1975. A Reference Grammar of Japanese. New Haven CT: Yale University Press. Matthiessen, C. & Thompson, S.A. 1988. The structure of discourse and ‘subordination’. In Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse, J. Haiman & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 27–329. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Maynard, S. 2001. Koisuru futari no “kanjoo” kotoba: Dorama-hyoogen no bunseki to Nihongo-ron (“Emotional” Expressions of Lovers: Analysis of Linguistic Expressions in Dramas and a Theory of Japanese). Tokyo: Kuroshio Shuppan. McGloin N.H. 2004. Subordination and discourse in Japanese. Paper presented at the Symposium on Functional Approaches to Japanese Grammar at the University of Alberta, August 2004. Minami, F. 1974. Gendai-Nihongo no koozoo (Structure of Modern Japanese). Tokyo: Taishukan. Munro, P. 1982. On the transitivity of ‘say’ verbs. In Studies in Transitivity, P. Hopper & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 301–318. New York NY: Academic Press.
Shigeko Okamoto & Tsuyoshi Ono Nakayama, T. & Ichihashi-Nakayama, K. 1997. Japanese kedo: Discourse genre and grammaticization. In Japanese/Korean Linguistics 6, H. Sohn & J. Haig (Eds), 607–618. Stanford CA: CSLI. Ohori, T. 1995. Remarks on suspended clauses: A contribution to Japanese phraseology. Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In Honor of Charles J. Fillmore, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 201–218. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Okamoto, S. 1995. Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese”. In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In honor of Charles J. Fillmore, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 219–246. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ono, T. 2006. Postpredicate elements in Japanese conversation: Nonmodularity and panchrony. In Japanese/Korean linguistics 14, T.J. Vance & K. Jones (Eds), 381–391. Stanford CA: CSLI. Seppänen, E-L. & Laury, R. 2007. Complement clauses as turn continuations: The Finnish et(tä)clause. Pragmatics 17(4): 553–572. Special Issue, Increments in Cross-Linguistic Perspective, E. Couper-Kuhlen & T. Ono (Eds). Schegloff, E.A. 1996. Turn organization: One direction for inquiry into grammar and interaction. Interaction and Grammar, E. Ochs, E.A. Schegloff & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 52–133. Cambridge: CUP. Suzuki, R. 1999. Grammticalization in Japanese: A Study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Suzuki, R. 2007. (Inter)subjectification in the quotative tte in Japanese conversation: Local change, utterance-ness and verb-ness. Journal of Historical Pragmatics 8(2): 207–237. Thompson, S.A. 2002. ‘Object complements’ and conversation: Towards a realistic account. Studies in Language 26(1): 125–164. Thompson, S.A. & Mulac, A. 1991. A quantitative perspective on the grammaticization of epistemic parentheticals in English. In Approaches to Grammaticization Vol. II, E.C. Traugott & B. Heine (Eds), 313–329. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Yokoyama, H. 2005. Han-ochi (Incomplete Surrender). Tokyo: Koodansha.
Quoting and topic-marking Some observations on the quotative tte construction in Japanese Ryoko Suzuki Keio University
Tte is a frequent marker in Japanese conversation exhibiting multiple discourse functions: as a quotative, topic-marker, utterance-final pragmatic particle, and utterance-initial repair marker. We focus on the relationship between the original quotative function and the topic-marking function found in conversational portions of novels spanning 200 years. Three patterns are suggested: tte (1) forms a link between itself and part of the previous speaker’s utterance through immediate repetition, (2) relates itself with an entity present in the current context, or (3) introduces the name of an entity not present in the current context (keeping track of it). It is possible that the more concrete, relational aspect of tte, connecting utterances/objects, is weakened and the referential aspect, introducing referents, develops over time.
1. Introduction One interesting feature of today’s Japanese conversation may be the striking frequency of tte, a so-called casual-style quotative morpheme.1 Tte was first found in the early 1800s in a comical novel which reflected informal conversations of ordinary people in the Edo period. Though the origin of tte is still controversial (see NKD, S. Suzuki 1998), I subscribe to a view based on cross-linguistic evidence (e.g., Chui 1994 for Cantonese, Lord 1976 for Kwa, Saxena 1988 for TibetoBurman, Heine & Kuteva 2002) that quotative forms tend to arise from verbs of saying, and therefore assume that tte has a strong association with to iite, which became to itte in the 18–19C. To itte is the combination of the linking particle to, from the period of Old Japanese, and the continuative form of the verb iu “say”. 1. The “formal” quotative counterpart is to, a linking morpheme with very broad functions, which appears even in Old Japanese. It links two nominals, and also functions as a complementizer, linking two clauses.
Ryoko Suzuki
This form is almost the only morpheme which starts with a geminate in Japanese, a language which prefers a very simple moraic structure consisting of a consonant and a vowel. Analyzing the behavior of tte in naturally occurring conversation has been very popular among researchers working on conversational discourse (e.g., S. Suzuki 1998, 1999, 2001; R. Suzuki 1999a, 1999b, 2005, 2007; Okamoto 1995; Okamoto & Ono 2005, among others). These studies have pointed out that tte serves multiple discourse-pragmatic functions. The functions of tte in today’s conversational discourse can be roughly grouped into four types, based on functional-syntactic characteristics (see also R. Suzuki 2007). Besides introducing a reported utterance, thought, or mimetic word as a quotative marker (see Type I below), tte also functions as a topic marker (Type II), introducing a nominal expression which is unfamiliar to the speaker (or to the hearer). In addition, it occurs as an utterance-final particle expressing the speaker’s attitude of insistence, joking and so forth (Type III). More recent data show tte being used as a unitary expression tte iu ka “or rather”, often occurring at the utterance-initial position (Type IV). Observe the following examples which illustrate the multiplicity of the functions of tte (see also R. Suzuki 2007): 1.1 Type I: Approximation of sounds The earliest and most frequent function of tte is as a quotative, which originally introduced someone’s utterance produced at an earlier time. A speech act verb, for example iu “say”, can be found near the quoted utterance:2 . List of abbreviations of interlinear glosses: acc (accusative); ben (benefactive); cont (continuative); cop (copula); emph (emphatic); fil (filler); fn (formal noun); gen (genitive); intj (interjection); name (proper name); neg (negative); nmz (nominalizer); nom (nominative); pol (polite); pot (potential); pres (presumptive); pst (past); ptcl (particle); quo (quotative); rt (reactive token); stat (stative); tag (tag); ten (tentative); top (topic) Transcription conventions are based on Du Bois et al. (1993). Each line represents an intonationally cohesive chunk called an Intonation Unit (Chafe 1987). Some excerpts are simplified (e.g., symbols of pitch accents are removed) for the sake of presentation. … .. . , ? [ ] Hx
a pause of about 0.3 seconds or more a very short pause of about 0.2 seconds or less a pitch contour which sounds sentence final a pitch contour which sounds as if there is more to come a pitch contour which sounds like a question an overlap between speakers exhalation laughter
Quoting and topic-marking
(1) tte ittara place at stay ptcl tonight top TTE say:then
‘“He is at Montebello, right?”, (I) said (to her), then …’
(Conv: Gossip)
Tte follows not only someone’s utterance, but also the content of thoughts and the description of some non-human sounds or even the texture or feel of some entity or situation: (2) …ano machigyooretsu o, that waiting.line acc → …mononomigoto, su% su% su% tte ikeru, beautifully mimetic.smooth.move TTE go:pot ‘(The girls) were able to move forward so smoothly without hesitating in such a long waiting line’ (Conv: Skiing trip)
What is being reproduced is not an exact copy but rather an approximation of an utterance/thought/sound/situation produced by the speaker in the present conversation. One syntactic feature of this type of tte construction is that it often takes a predicate containing the verb iu “say” (for utterances), omou “think” (for thought), and others (for mimetic words). Therefore, in prescriptive Japanese, tte of this type seems to be a quotative complementizer, preceding the main clause (iu “say”, omou “think”, etc.). 1.2 Type II: Introducing a referent (Topic marker) We also find more “noun-oriented” examples of tte. The sequence of a nominal expression plus tte introduces a label for some referent. The label is often a proper noun as in (3), but can also be a general noun phrase as in (4). In (4), it is even possible to simplify tte iu no into the single morpheme tte: (3) keeoo name
da cop
to comp
ne, ptcl
→ jirooraamen tte aru n desu yo. name tte exist nmz cop:pol ptcl ‘Near Keio (University), there is a noodle shop (called) Jiroo Raamen.’ (Conv: Raamen)
<X X> =
segments uttered with laughter (@: a laugh) segments uttered with quotation quality higher pitch level uncertain hearing (X: indecipherable syllable) a lengthened segment
Ryoko Suzuki
(4) … mae juku de arubaito shita tokini, before preparatory.school at part.time.work do:pst when → sanshamendan tte iu no parent.teacher.student meeting TTE called nmz
o, acc
yoku yatta no ne. often do:pst nmz ptcl ‘When I was working part time at Juku school before, we often held something called three-party (teacher-parent-student) meetings.’ (Conv: Age)
Also observe (5):
(5) The other speaker has been talking about the younger sister of his friend. Then the speaker says:
ikutsu gurai nan how.old about cop:nmz
desu ka, imootosan tte. cop ptcl younger.sister:pol TTE
‘How old is (your friend’s) younger sister?”
(Conv: Tall Sis)
The noun-oriented use often appears when speakers introduce a referent into the conversational discourse using its proper name (as in (3)) or a common noun (as in (4) and (5)). Therefore, the nominal expressions in this type of tte construction are associated with referents unfamiliar to the addressee (as in (3) or (4)) or to the speaker (as in (5)). S. Suzuki (1998) and R. Suzuki (1999a, 1999b) discuss the topic-marking function of tte and point out that it introduces a referent psychologically distant from the speaker. R. Suzuki (2007) suggests that the use of tte to introduce referents unfamiliar to the speaker is extended to the use of tte to refer to an entity distant from the addressee. In conversational data, we find some cases in which the referent that both the speaker and addressee know very well, but which feels psychologically distant, is referred to using tte. The predicates following (and sometimes preceding) this type of tte phrase are often existential (as in (3)), interrogative (as in (5)), or the speaker’s assessment of the referents introduced by tte. 1.3 Type III: Expressing the speaker’s attitude at the end of an utterance It has been pointed out that tte occurs in the final position of a clausal utterance (Okamoto 1995; S. Suzuki 1998; R. Suzuki 1999a, 1999b). In contrast to the first type, there is no related predicate, such as iu “say” or omou “think”, following (or preceding) the tte construction. Instead, the preceding clause should be regarded as an independent clause. (6) nan=kai ka, several.times or
Quoting and topic-marking
kaketeru aidani, call while → zettai chansu ga aru tte. definitely chance nom exist TTE ‘We will definitely have a chance (to talk to him) if we call several times.” (Conv: Surprise) (7) ikkai itta kara doraibu niwa jishin mo tsuiteru shi tte? once go:pst because driving for confidence too have ptcl TTE ‘Since (I) drove (all the way to San Francisco) once, (I) have confidence in my driving also (just kidding). (Conv: Surprise)
The utterance-final contours including tte in (6) and (7) are distinctively different: (6) ends with aru emphatically pronounced with a higher pitch than the preceding word, followed by tte with a falling tone; whereas in (7), tsuiteru shi is pronounced with a falling tone, followed by tte with a rising tone. The clause preceding the utterance-final tte represents the speaker’s comment, and the final tte adds the speaker’s attitude toward the comment. Therefore, tte at the end of an utterance functions as an utterance-final pragmatic particle indicating the speaker’s attitude, presumably with different distinctive contours for different meanings. 1.4 Type IV: Utterance-initial marker of repair Together with other morphemes, tte forms many unitary expressions. Tte iu ka is a case in point. It means “or rather” (Kitano 2001) and occurs in the middle or at the end of an utterance as a marker of repair. In addition, recent conversational data shows that it also occurs in the initial position of an utterance. Currently, there are some abbreviated versions such as tteka and tsuka, and these forms frequently appear not only in conversation but also in casual-style essays and chatting over the Internet:
(8) Speaker U talks about the days when he wondered about which sports club in his high school to join.
U: … basuke mo, basketball also
baree mo, volleyball also
… [muri] jan. impossible ptcl
M: [n=], … un.
Ryoko Suzuki
→ U: … tteka, or.rather … totemo ja nakute, very cop:top neg … heta nan bad cop:nmz
da. cop
… , cop
… . stuff
U: (I can’t be a regular member if I join the) basketball club or volleyball club. M: Hm. U: Or rather, I am absolutely bad at that sort of thing. Seriously. (Conv: Bukatsu)
The four types of discourse functions of tte can be summarized as in Table 1 below: Having seen the multiple discourse functions of tte in conversations in contemporary Japanese, I intend to examine Type II more in detail in this paper. In R. Suzuki 1999a, 1999b and 2007, I investigated the diachronic development of tte in conversational data and reported that the original and still the most frequent function of tte has been the quotative function and that it has gradually developed multiple discourse-pragmatic functions in the last 200 years or so.
Table 1. Four-types of discourse functions of tte based on today’s conversation
Type Type I Type II Type III Type IV
Discourse functions
Functional features of elements before tte
Introducing approximated sounds Introducing an unfamiliar entity
Utterance Thought Sounds Name of an entity
Clausal/non-clausal Clausal/non-clausal Mimetic expressions Nominal
Expressing the speaker’s attitude utterance-finally Utterance-initial repair marker
Speaker’s comment
Clausal
iu ‘say’ omou ‘think’ (flexible) Interrogative Existential/ Assessment N/A
Separate utterance
N/A
N/A
Syntactic features of elements preceding tte
Predicate associated with tte element
Quoting and topic-marking
Then, how has the quotative particle tte come to serve the Type II function as a so-called topic marker? I suggest that the dialogic interaction may be much more crucial than previously assumed in order to understand such a development. In other words, in conversation, the speaker immediately repeats the utterance of the previous speaker (i.e., the current addressee), and this may be the starting point of the development of the topic-marking function out of the quotative expressions. This is just a preliminary report of what I intend to pursue in future projects. The structure of this paper is as follows: In section 2, I will introduce the data for this study. In section 3, I will introduce some examples of different patterns of nominals in Type II tte constructions. And in section 4, I will discuss the interactional motivation for the rise of the noun-oriented/referent-introducing function. 2. Data I investigated the quotative forms found in the conversational portions of novels stretching from the 1830s to the 1980s, as well as the transcripts of audio-taped informal conversations between friends and family members in contemporary Japanese.3 In order to clarify the development of the functions, I grouped the data into five diachronic clusters of novels published around the 1830s, the 1880s, the 1930s, and the 1980s, in addition to the conversational transcripts. My discussion here is based on the data in R. Suzuki 1999a and 1999b, in which I coded the tokens, including the morpheme tte (i.e., tte tokens), trying not to collect more than 10 tokens from each novel/transcript. 3. Closer look at Type II patterns In this section, I will discuss a possible course of development for the noun-oriented, referent-introducing tte presented as Type II. Functionally, my question is “what is the relationship between quoting an utterance and introducing a referent?” The syntactic counterpart of this question would be “what is the relationship between tte following an utterance/clause versus tte following a nominal?” In my previous diachronic survey of the functional development of tte (R. Suzuki 1999a, 1999b), the noun-related uses were not found prior to the 1880s data.
. The present-day Japanese data come from the Japan Corpus and the Pac Rim Corpus. I thank Yoshi Ono for making the data available to me.
Ryoko Suzuki Pattern (a) Asking about (part of) an utterance produced by the previous speaker (definition, intention) Pattern (b) Referring to an entity present in the context by quoting a previously known label Pattern (c) Referring to an entity or a situation absent in the context of conversation Figure 1. From introducing an utterance to introducing a referent.
In what follows, I would like to suggest three patterns. These appeared more or less in diachronic order in my conversational data, though I need more tokens from each period to substantiate this proposal in the future (Figure 1). There are some observations we can make from Figure 1. First, the topicmarking act has an interactive origin of asking for clarification from the other person, which further reflects the interactive act of quoting, i.e., introducing someone’s prior utterance to the addressee during the current speech event. Second, what we see are not two distinct points, but a continuum from clause-introducing to noun-introducing constructions. Examples for each pattern will follow. 3.1 P attern (a): Asking about (part of) an utterance produced by the previous speaker (definition, intention) The examples of the first pattern are clearly linked to the original function of tte as a quotative. The speaker repeats part of the previous speaker’s utterance using tte, and continues with an interrogative predicate, such as nani “what”, dare “who”, itsu “when”, and so forth. These interrogatives frame the quoted expressions preceding tte as nominals. Look at the example below, which comes from a novel in the late 1880s. Sankichi (S) immediately repeats, or quotes, Denkichi’s (D) earlier utterance. Notice that S “extracts” the word tanomi “favor” from D’s utterance with tte, and continues with an interrogative predicate. By doing so, S asks D for further clarification of the word tanomi: (9) Denkichi: sonokawari nya otanomi ga aru n da. instead top pol:favor nom exist nmz cop → Sankichi: tanomi tte nan desu, densan. favor TTE what cop:pol name D:
omae tsukai ni itte okure de nai ka. you errand to go pol:give cop neg ptcl
D: Instead, I want you to do me a favor. → S: What is the favor (that you are asking)? D: Can you go on an errand for me?
(Hemeden: 1895)
Quoting and topic-marking
There are some examples that can be thought of as an extension of the first pattern. In example (9) above, the speaker repeats the name or label introduced in the previous speaker’s preceding utterance. Whereas in example (10), the speaker quotes a word (in this case, the name of a person) written on the card right in front of the speaker: (10) Backstage, after the ballet performance, some dancers look at a name card pinned on a small bouquet. → Dancer: katsumi … katsumi tte hito, suzukosan name name TTE person name
shitteru? know:stat
Suzuko: shitteru wa. know: stat ptcl Dancer: otoko no hito? male gen person Dancer: ‘“Katsumi”… Suzuko, do you know a person called “Katsumi”?’ Suzuko: ‘Yes, (I do).’ Dancer: ‘Is it a man?’ (Hana no warutsu: 1937)
In pattern (a), there is linguistic material, either spoken or written, in the interactional context available for the speaker to quote, using tte. 3.2 P attern (b): Referring to an entity present in the context by quoting a previously known label In 3.1, we see the connection between the original utterance and the quoted utterance produced in the same conversation. The 1930’s data contain a different kind of example in which the speaker links a referent (entity/situation) near the speaker to a label for it. What is being “quoted” is NOT the other speaker’s preceding utterance, but a label previously known by the speaker from elsewhere, presumably before the current conversation took place. Look at (11) and (12): (11) Kimie (K) and Yada (Y) went into a room in machiai, a Japanese-style inn for couples. Kimie opens the window and sees a small garden in front. K: ara, ii wane. shibai no yoo da wa. intj good ptcl play gen like cop ptcl Y: kaffee towa mata betsu da na. café with:top other different cop ptcl → kore ga edoshumi tte iu n daroo na. this nom Edo.taste TTE say nmz pres ptcl
Ryoko Suzuki
K: Oh, this is nice. It is like a (scene in) a play. Y: The (atmosphere) here is different from Café. This would be what is called Edo taste.
(Tsuyu no atosaki: 1931)
(12) Hoshie and Suzuko go to Yokohama Port to see Mr. Nanjo arriving on a ship from abroad. Hoshie (H), pointing to the ship still far, says: H: are yo, ano, ima kocchi e ugoitekuru, that ptcl that now here towards move.come
ookii kireina fune, akai yokosuji no haitta, big beautiful ship red horizontal.stripe gen has
shiroi entotsu no. white chimney gen
(text omitted)
kisen ni entotsu ga nai to steam.boat on chimney nom absent then
senkyaku wa fuanna ki ga suru n desu tte. passengers top anxious feeling nom do nmz cop:pol TTE
dakara, entotsu o rippani okeshoo suru no ga, so chimney acc perfectly make.up do nmz nom
kisengaisha no kyakuhiki seisaku ship.company gen attract.passengers strategy
nan desu cop.nmz cop:pol
tte. TTE
→ keshoo entotsu tte iu noyo. make.up chimney TTE call ptcl H: That’s the one. It’s now approaching, the big beautiful ship which has a white chimney with red horizontal stripes. … (I heard that) passengers feel worried if they see no chimney on the boat. So it is the ship companies’ strategy to attract passengers by painting the chimney gorgeously. (They) call it a “make-up chimney.” (Hana no warutsu: 1937)
As you see, in both (11) and (12), the nominal expression that the speaker uses with tte is not the repetition/quote of an earlier utterance made by the interlocutor. However, there is an entity (e.g., a chimney) or situation (e.g., the atmosphere of the garden) in the context of the conversation that triggers the speaker’s act of linking it to a characterizing linguistic expression. Tte not only indicates the linkage between
Quoting and topic-marking
two utterances, as we saw in 3.1, but also the relationship between an entity/situation and the linguistic characterization, i.e., the label or name, for it. 3.3 P attern (c): Referrizing an entity or a situation absent in the context of conversation In the final pattern, the speaker comments on an entity or situation which is not present in the same context. Observe example (13) in which we find the combination of a proper name with tte, followed by an existential predicate. Speaker M uses this construction to introduce an entity, i.e., Café Deux Magots in this case: (13) M: …dokka de, somewhere cop :..ocha o shite, tea acc do:cont :..sorekara, then :…yukkuri ikimasho. slowly go:let’s :toka tte itte, or.something TTE say:cont
:((H clears throat))
:hayameni machiawase o shita no. earlier appointment acc do:pst ptcl
A: un. uh-huh M: …dakara=, So :…bunkamura de ocha o name at tea acc
shiyoo do:let’s
tte = TTE
→ :..bunkamura ni ne nanka kafe duumagoo tte an none. name in intj or.something Café Deux Magots TTE exist ptcl H: …doo yuu fuuni kaku no unun. how say like write ptcl hm M: …[itta koto] aru? go:pst thing exist
Ryoko Suzuki
A: [X X]. H: …atashi itte nai tookyuu bunkamura tte. I go neg name name TTE M: “Let’s (go see a concert) after having some coffee somewhere,” (we) said, and decided to meet earlier. A: Hm. M: So, (we said) “Let’s have some tea at Bunkamura (Theater-museum complex in Tokyo).” →: There’s “Café Deux Magots” in Bunkamura. H: How do you write it? M: Have you been there? A: [X X]. H: I haven’t been to Tokyu Bunkamura yet. (Conv: Osaka Boys)
The tte phrase (with an arrow) is the portion in which M introduces the name of the café. This use is different from pattern (a) because the name of the café was not mentioned previously in this conversation. It is not similar to pattern (b) either since the speaker mentions the café although she is not near/in it. In other words, unlike patterns (a) or (b), tte does not link two things (e.g., the quoted utterance with the original utterance; an entity with a linguistic characterization) in an obvious way. Rather, a tte phrase of this type does not have a previous “matching” utterance/entity/situation with which to connect. Instead, what seems to be happening is that the name of the café does not appear “out of the blue” – the speaker provides a frame of reference in the immediately preceding clause, bunkamura de ocha o shiyoo “Let’s have some tea/let’s go to a coffee shop at Bunkamura.” In this way the tte phrase of pattern (c) is linked back to its frame of reference. Example (14) is also an example of this pattern. The speaker uses a nominal expression to characterize a situation that happened in the past, i.e., NOT the situation happening in the present context of conversation. After Suzuko and Hoshie finish their ballet performance, Suzuko (S) criticizes Hoshie’s attitude on the stage a few moments prior: (14) S: anna hidoi wagamama tte nai wa. that terrible selfishness TTE not.exist ptcl ‘lit. That terrible selfishness does not exist.’ ‘How terrible your selfishness (on the stage) was!’
(Hana no warutsu: 1937)
Together with the distal modifier anna “that sort of ” and an adjective hidoi “terrible,” Suzuko’s characterization of Hoshie’s behavior on the stage is presented as a form of a negative assessment. In short, (14) is similar to (13) in the sense that the tte phrase does not link itself to a previous utterance nor to an object right in front
Quoting and topic-marking
of the speaker, but connects the linguistic expression to something more abstract: the speaker’s characterization of what she saw-a type of the speaker’s experience- a moment prior to the utterance. Tte is also used to characterize or refer to a person who is not present in conversation. One typical genre in which this happens is gossip. Observe (15): (15) Z and K are talking about Tanaka-san (T-san), who was in trouble with a classmate’s husband because his wife approached T-san. Z reports to K what an international student advisor told T-san: 1 Z: …T-san no mikata ni natte kureta n da tte. name gen supporter to become ben nmz cop TTE 2 K: …ma, well 3
sorya datte sa=, that but ptcl
4
sono=. fil
5 …jibun self 6 …jibun self 7
no=, gen ni ii zairyoo shika hanasanai deshoo, to good material only talk:neg tag
ano hito tte sa=. that person TTE ptcl
Z: (The advisor) supported T-san, I heard. K: Well, of course, um, that guy tte would only talk about things favorable to himself. (Conv: Gossip)
In this example, S refers to the main character of this gossip by his family name, T-san (line 1). Then K uses the expression ano hito “that guy”, followed by the marker tte, to refer to T (line 7). In other words, T has been the central referent, mostly identified by Z using his family name in the prior discourse. However, K refers to the same person in a different way: ano hito “that guy”. Therefore, the tte phrase in line 7 is not quite associated with pattern (a) since it does not involve “quoting someone’s prior utterance”. Furthermore, it is not similar to examples from pattern (b) because T is not present in the conversational context. Tte in line 7 functions as a marker of “referent tracking” (and not a “referent introducer”, since T was already introduced and kept track of in the discourse) by linking the label ano hito to the referent T, who is not present in the context. Not using the common strategy of referring to a person by his/her name, as well as the use of the distal deictic expression ano “that”, indicates K’s psychologically distant attitude toward T.
Ryoko Suzuki
4. Discussion The relationship between quoting an utterance and introducing/tracking a referent can be thought of as a continuum. In this paper, I discussed this continuum by dividing them into three patterns. What we observe as a result is the changes in the elements that are being linked with tte. In patterns (a) and (b), there is something to trigger the linking (e.g., a previous utterance, an entity or a situation in front of the speaker), but in pattern (c), the entity or situation is not obviously present in the current context of conversation, hence shown in the dotted line. The patterns are summarized in Figure 2. tte construction
trigger
Pattern (a) Repeating part of someone’s prior utterance: Linking the tte phrase to prior utterance
Pattern (b) Characterizing a situation or naming an entity present in the context: Linking the tte phrase to an entity / situation present in the context
Pattern (c) Characterizing a situation or referring to the name /label of an entity that is not present in the context (or known from the past experience): Using tte to introduce / to keep track in discourse --- linguistic expression --- entity or situation Dotted line --- not obviously prsent Figure 2. Relationship between the tte construction and the entity/situation being referred to: Summary of Patterns (a), (b), and (c).
Quoting and topic-marking
In pattern (a), the quoted words may take a variety of linguistic forms, such as a verb, an entire utterance, a single noun and so on. However, it seems that in conversation, speakers often reproduce nominals with tte, asking the addressee who or what a particular referent is, or when or where a particular event happens. Tte constructions in patterns (b) and (c) are noun-oriented, since they involve naming an entity, characterizing a situation (to be assessed in the following predicate), introducing a referent and talking about it using its name or label. I have shown that tte, the quotative marker, functions through the relationship between two things (e.g., a reproduced and an original utterance; a label and an entity) in conversational interaction. Although we need more tokens of the tte construction for future study, it is possible that the more concrete, relational aspect of tte, i.e., connecting utterances/objects, is weakened and the referential aspect, i.e., introducing/keeping track of referents, develops over time, and tte reflects this shift by strengthening its noun-orientatation i.e., the rise of Type II out of Type I.
Acknowledgements My special thanks go to the editor of this volume, Ritva Laury, for her patience and constant encouragement, and also to the presenters of her panel at the 9th International Pragmatics Conference for having me as one of their discussants. This study is supported by Grants-in-Aid for Scientific Research, the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science (#17520277), and a Keio Gijuku Academic Development Fund. I also deeply thank Maggie Camp for proofreading and correcting the earlier versions. I have the sole responsibility for any shortcomings of the paper.
Text references 1895. Hemeden, by Hirotsu Ryuuroo. Gendai nihon bungaku taikei 3 (1970). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo. 1931. Tsuyu no atosaki, by Nagai, Kafuu. Gendai Nihon Bungaku Zenshuu 24 (1956). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo. 1937. Hana no warutsu, by Kawabata, Yasunari. Gendai Nihon Bungaku Taikei 52 (1968). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo.
References Chafe, W. 1987. Cognitive constraints on information flow. In Coherence and grounding in discourse, Russel Tomlin (Ed.), 21–51. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
Ryoko Suzuki Chui, K. 1994. Grammaticization of the saying verb wa in Cantonese. In Santa Barbara Papers in Linguistics 5: East Asian Linguistics, 1–13. Santa Barbara: Department of Linguistics, UC Santa Barbara. Du Bois, J.W., Schuetze-Coburn, S., Cumming, S. & Paolino, D. 1993. Outline of discourse transcription. Talking data: Transcription and coding methods for discourse research, Jane A. Edwards & Martin D. Lampert (Eds.), 45–89. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Heine, B. & Kuteva, T. 2002. World Lexicon of Grammaticalization. Cambridge: CUP. Kitano, H. 2001. Quotation in Japanese conversational interaction and its implications for the dialogic nature of language. In Cognitive-functional Linguistics in an East Asian Context, K. Horie & S. Sato (Eds), 259–278. Tokyo: Kurosio Publishers. Lord, C. 1976. Evidence for syntactic reanalysis: From verb to complementizer in Kwa. Chicago Linguistics Society 12: 179–191. NKD: Nihon Kokugo Daijiten (The dictionary of the Japanese language). 2001. 2nd Edn. Tokyo: Shogakukan. Okamoto, S. 1995. Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese. In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In Honor of Charles J. Fillmore, M. Shibatani & S.A. Thompson (Eds), 219–246. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Okamoto, S. & Ono, T. 2005. Quotative -tte in Japanese: Its multifaceted functions and degrees of “subordination.” Paper presented at the 9th International Pragmatics Conference. July 15. Riva del Garda, Italy. Saxena, A. 1988. On syntactic convergence: The case of the verb say in Tibeto-Burman. Berkeley Linguistics Society 14: 375–388. Suzuki, R. 1999a. Mutifuncitonality: The developmental path of the quotative tte in Japanese. In Cognition and Function in Language, B.A. Fox, D. Jurafsky & L.A. Michaelis (Eds), 50–64. Stanford CA: CSLI. Suzuki, R. 1999b. Grammaticization in Japanese: A Study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Suzuki, R. 2005. Functional cycle: Concessivity across some quotative forms in Japanese. Linguistics Colloquium, University of California, Santa Barbara. March 31. Suzuki, R. 2007. (Inter)subjectification in the quotative tte in Japanese conversation: Local change, utterance-ness and verb-ness. Journal of Historical Pragmatics 8(2): 207–237. Suzuki, S. 1998. Tte and nante: Markers of psychological distance in Japanese conversation. Journal of Pragmatics 29: 429–462. Suzuki, S. 1999. Marker of unexpected statements: An analysis of the quotative particle datte. The Journal of the Association of Teachers of Japanese 33(1): 44–67. Suzuki, S. 2001. Self-mockery in Japanese. Linguistics 40(1): 163–189.
Index of names
A Aijmer, K. 143 Aikhenvald, A. 37 Akatsuka, N. 100 Alarcos, E. 35, 61 Aleksova, K. 81, 84, 85, 88, 90 Alvarez, A. 58, 60 Alwi, H. 4, 5 Amberber, M. 37, 52, 57 Asher, N. 38 Atkinson, J.M. 182 Auer, P. 100, 114, 116, 162 B Baker, M. 50, 62 Bakhtin, M.M. 155 Bamberg, M. 82 Barth-Weingarten, D. 180, 196, 199 Bauer, L. 193 Beck, S. 42, 43 Bertinetto, P.M. 48 Biber, D. 82, 101, 110 Blakemore, D. 81 Boer, S.E. 49 Borer, H. 50, 55 Brown, P. 87 Brucart, J.M. 40 Bybee, J. 66, 99, 198, 200 C Campos, H. 37, 51 Carlson, G. 61 Chafe, W.L. 37, 100, 162, 180, 232 Chierchia, G. 46 Cinque, G. 50, 51 Clancy, P.M. 100 Collins, C. 43 Collins, P. 101, 102 Comrie, B. 7, 8, 9 Corris, P. 180 Coulmas, F. 36
Couper-Kuhlen, E. 99, 100, 110, 111, 114, 116, 167, 179, 180, 182, 186, 189, 195, 196, 199 Croft, W. 3, 29 Cumming, S. 1, 4, 6, 7, 10, 13, 14, 157 D D’Arcy, A.F. 52 Delbecque, N. 35 Demirdache, H. 64, 66, 69, 70, 71 Demonte, V. 58, 59, 61, 62, 63, 64 Dendale, P. 37 Diewald, G. 198 Dorgeloh, H. 82 Dryer, M.S. ix, x, 3, 29 Du Bois, J.W. 5, 100, 155, 180, 181, 182, 187, 232 Duranti, A. 155 E Ehasalu, E. 142 Enç, M. 71 Englebretson, R. 2, 4, 5, 99, 116, 126, 154, 157, 162, 179, 181, 227 Erelt, M. 126, 127, 128, 149 Erman, B. 116 Ernst, T. 50 Etxepare, R. 36, 49, 51, 69, 164 Ewing, M.C. 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 10, 13, 14, 17, 30 F Faltz, L. 46 Fanshel, D. 130 Fernandez-Vest, M.M.J. 173 Fielder, G. 87, 157 Fischer, K. 197, 198 Ford, C.E. 100, 111, 114, 116, 117, 118, 159, 170, 182 Fox, B.A. 114, 116, 159, 170, 189
Frank-Job, B. 198 G García, E. 36 Garcia, M. 197 Geluykens, R. 101 Georgakopoulou, A. 79, 80, 82-83, 84,85, 86, 89, 94 Givón, T. 157, 161 Goffman, E. 87, 136, 154, 155, 157, 164, 168 Goodwin, C. 154, 155, 189 Goodwin, M.H. 155 Goutsos, D. 79, 80, 82-84, 85, 86, 89, 94 Greenberg, R. 94 Greenwood, K. 180 Güldemann, T. 35, 37 Günthner, S. 102, 107, 111-14, 116, 198 H Haiman, J. 200, 205, 227 Häkkinen, K. 140, 141, 142, 172, 173 Hakulinen, A. 139, 153, 160, 163, 205 Hakulinen, L. 141, 157, 172 Hale, K. 57, 65, 66 Halliday, M. 85 Hanks, W. 155 Harley, H. 50 Hauge, K. 79, 81, 82, 84, 88 Hayashi, M. 114, 115 Heine, B. 142, 154, 172, 198, 228, 231 Helasvuo, M.-L. 17, 114 Hennoste, T. 143 Heritage, J. 127, 130, 131, 132, 140, 182 Honcoop, M. 42, 44 Hopper, P.J. 3, 30, 31, 102, 104, 107, 109, 114, 116, 119, 189, 197, 198, 200, 205, 228
Index of names Huang, S. 116 Huiskes, M. 182 Hwang, S.J. 99 I Ichihashi-Nakayama, K. 198, 206 Ivanova, D. 90 Itani, R. 198, 199, 200 Iwasaki, S. 198 J Jakobson, R. 155, 174 Jefferson, G. 179, 181, 182, 188 Joos, M. 107 Joseph, B. 80 K Kärkkäinen, E. 116, 126, 143, 173 Karlsson, F. 160, 163 Kayne, R. 69 Keenan, E.L. 7, 9, 46 Keevallik, L. 126, 128, 133, 135, 143, 147, 154, 159, 162, 168, 171, 172, 173, 174 Kelly, J. 186, 187, 188, 189 Keyser, S.J. 57, 66 Kidd, E. 116 Klein, W. 64 Koivisto, A. 156, 159, 160, 162, 171, 172 Konstantinov, A. 84, 93 Korhonen, R. 163 Kratzer, A. 50 Krifka, M. 37, 44-46, 48 Kuiri, K. 162 Kuteva, T. 142, 154, 172, 231 L Labov, W. 130 Lahiri, U. 37, 40, 69 Laitinen, L. 156, 173 Laka, I. 51 Lamiroy, B. 35 Langacker, R.w. 205, 228 Larson, R.K. 50 Laury, R. 1, 2, 45, 99, 126, 139, 140-42, 144, 149, 155, 156, 159, 161, 171, 172, 179, 205, 228, 245 Leitner, G. 179, 193 Lenci, A. 48 Lerner, G.H. 114, 179
Levin, B. 55, 57 Levinson, S. 49, 87 Liddicoat, A.J. 114 Lindström, A.K.B. 200 Lindström, J. 133 Linell, P. 116 Local, J. 186, 187, 188, 189 Longacre, R.E. 99, 114 Lord, C. 37, 231 Lycan, W.G. 49 M Macaulay, R. 52 Makino, S. 207, 214 Mägiste, J. 141 Marchman, V. 82 Martin, S.E. 107, 207, 214 Masullo, P.J. 58, 59, 61, 62-64 Mathieu, E. 42, 43 Matthiessen, C. 126, 154, 207, 217 Mavrodieva, I. 84, 85 Maynard, S. 219, 221, 227 Mazeland, H. 182 McGloin, N.H. 205 Mori, J. 114, 117, 198, 200 Miller, J. 101 Minami, F. 205 Mithun, M. 126, 142 Mulac, A. 1, 116, 126, 143, 205, 227 Mulder, J. 179, 180, 193 Munro, P. 52, 163, 211 N Nakayama, T. 198, 206 Nichols, J. 37 Noonan, M. 163 O Ochs, E. 5, 157 Ohori, T. 198, 199, 200, 206 Okamoto, S. 156, 173, 197, 198, 206, 207, 212, 224, 228, 232, 234 Ono, T. 17, 99, 111, 114, 115, 156, 157, 179, 198, 219, 232, 237 Onodera, N. 198 Ormazabal, J. 38 Ottesjö, C. 133 P Pafel, J. 43 Pagliuca, W. 66
Park, Y-Y. 198 Parsons, T. 41 Pawley, A. 109, 193 Payne, T.E. 6, 9, 28 Perkins, R. 66 Pesetsky, D. 42, 43 Peters, P. 193 Petersen, P.L. 39 Picallo, C. 61 Plann, S. 40, 54 Pomerantz, A. 117 Porroche Ballesteros, M. 36 Prince, E. 101, 105 Pustejovsky, J. 55 Q Quirk, R. 101, 102 R Rappaport, M. 55, 57 Raun, A. 141 Raussi, A. 160, 171, 172 Raymond, G. 179, 200 Rédei, K. 141 Redeker, G. 81 Remmelg, R. 129, 149 Ritter, E. 38, 57, 71, 72 Rizzi, L. 51 Rohlfs, G. 37 Rooryck, J. 37 Rosen, S. 57 Ross, J.R. 39, 49 Routarinne, S. 162, 164 S Sacks, H. 117 Schegloff, E.A. 114, 116, 127, 132, 140, 146, 149, 157, 189, 219 Scheibman, J. 126 Scheutz, H. 116 Schiffrin, D. 79, 82, 182 Schulze-Wenck, S. 114 Sebba, M. 193 Selting, M. 114, 187 Seppänen, E.-L. 2, 126, 139, 140-42, 144, 149, 155, 156, 159, 171, 172, 228 Shlonsky, U. 37 Simin, A.M. 8, 28 Sinclair, J.M. 103 Sneddon, J.N. 4, 5, 10, 12, 14 Sorjonen, M.-L. 140, 173
Index of names Spitzer, L. 36 Stassen, L. 62 Steensig, J. 114 Steinhauer, H. 4, 10, 12 Stowell, T. 64, 69 Strauss, S. 100 Streeck, J. 114 Sudbury, A. 193 Suñer, M. 40, 66 Suojanen, M. 156 Suzuki, R. 126, 173, 198, 205, 206, 207, 212, 228, 232, 234, 236, 237 Suzuki, S. 231, 232, 234 Syder, F.H. 109 Szatrowski, P. 114, 115 Szczepek Reed, B. 187 T Tabor, W. 198
Talmy, L. 65 Tanaka, H. 114, 115, 200 Tao, H. 17, 114, 179 Tasmowski, L. 37 Tchizmarova, I. 84, 94 Tenny, C. 50, 55, 57 Thompson, S.A. 1, 2, 3, 17, 30, 31, 99, 100, 110, 111, 114, 115, 116, 126, 143, 154, 157, 159, 167, 170, 173, 179, 180, 182, 186, 189, 193, 195, 198, 205, 207, 217, 227 Tiševa, Y. 84, 88 Torrego, E. 51 Traugott, E. 141, 173, 198 Travis, L. 50 Trudgill, P. 193 Tsutsui, M. 207, 214 Turk, M.J. 140
U Uribe-Etxebarria, M. 35, 51, 64, 66, 69, 70, 71 V Vilkuna, M. 153, 156, 160 Vries, M. de 167 Vrina, M. 80, 81 W Warren, B. 116 Watson, D.R. 130, 131 Weinert, R. 101 Wiltschko, M. 38, 71, 72 Y Yokoyama, H. 211 Z Zagona, K. 64 Zwicky, A. 52
Index of subjects
A action sequence, 139, 148 addressee honorific, 208, 212, 215, 217, 222, 224, 226 ad hoc label see ad hoc reference formulation ad hoc reference formulation, 3, 17–18, 19–21, 23 adjective, 10, 24, 166 anchoring, 70–73 apodosis, 112–14 aspect, 55–57, 60–61, 64–70 aspectual auxiliary 46–49 assertion time, 65–66, 70 event time, 64–65, 69 process, 55, 57, 59–60, 63, 66 resultant state, 55–57, 59 B B-event, 130–133 biclausality, 99–119 binding see also unfolding, 82–83 Bulgarian 79–98 C categoriality, 3, 6, 29–30, 157, 207–208 binary opposition, 79, 80, 95–96, 156 continuum, 1–3, 24–27, 80, 89, 95–96, 141, 142, 153–154, 156–157, 161, 164, 180, 182–183, 185, 191, 194, 197–198, 205, 227, 238–239, 244 discreteness 154, 205, 208, 225, 226–228 cleft see also pseudocleft, 6, 7, 8, 13–17, 21–23, 24–25, 100, 101 clitic, 56, 57
colloquial see also standard, non-standard complement see also complement clause, 56, 65–66, 127, 163, 211, 218, 227 complement clause see also object complement, 1–2, 35–36, 40, 45, 54–57, 58–60, 116, 126–136, 140, 142–148, 149, 154, 156–158, 159, 160–164, 166–171, 205–208, 209–213, 215, 218–219, 223 complement selection 39–40 complementizer, 35–41, 126, 140–148, 153–154, 156, 160–164, 167–170, 172–173, 206, 207, 233 clause initial complementizer, 37, 39 root complementizer constructions, 37–52, 70–72 complement-taking predicate, 126, 135–137, 142–143, 158, 160–164, 166–168, 171, 172, 173 concession, 185, 186, 195 conjunction, 44–46, 48, 79–96, 100, 125, 127–129, 139, 140–142, 144, 146, 147–149, 153–154, 156–158, 160, 162–163, 166–170, 171–174, 180, 182–183, 197, 200 conjunctive particle, 209, 215–218, 220–221 connective 79–96, 197–199 contrast, 38, 181, 182–183, 191–193, 194–199, 224, 234 contrastive see contrast conversation, 3–5, 82, 100, 102–103, 109, 112, 113, 116, 119, 126, 127, 135
CTP see complement-taking construction D demonstrative, 3, 7, 9, 11–12, 23–24, 28, 53, 56–57, 142, 154, 157, 171, 172–174 manner demonstrative, 53–55, 56–57, 58, 157, 172–174 anaphoric 38–39, 44, 53–54, 56,58 dialogue, 84–87, 91–92, 95, 180, 181, 193 dialogicality, 155, 171, 174, 237 discourse marker, 79–85, 89–90, 92–96, 126, 183, 193, 198 E embedding embedded clauses 40, 69, 170, 207, 212, 214 embedded actions , 125, 149 emergence, 30–31, 125, 194–195, 200, English, 52, 64–65, 82, 83, 99–111, 114–118, 139–140, 179–200, 206 epistemicity, 16, 114, 126, 154, 159, 162–164, 173–175, 207, 208, 225 epistemic adverb, 2, 50 epistemic framing, 15–16, 27–28, 110, 166 epistemic status, 212, 218 equational sentences, 6, 13–17, 25, 27 Estonian, 125–149, 154, 159, 162, 173, 174 Eurocentricity, 8 evidentiality, 37, 114, 126–27, 129, 134–140, 141–144, 147–149, 154, 159, 162, 164,
Index of subjects evidentiality(Contd) 166–168, 170, 171, 172–174, 207, 221 evidential framing 110 evidential particle 127, 139, 140, 142, 147–149, 163, 173 expansion, 130, 133, 140 extraposition, 100, 110–111 facework, 87, 88, 94 negative face, 87 F figure/ground, 65 central coincidence, 65–66, 69, 71 Finnish, 139, 140–143, 153–175 focus, 101–102, 109, 114, 116 footing, 153, 154, 164, 166–175 formulaicity, 103, 110, 118–119, 134 framing see also epistemic framing, 107–108, 110, 169 G genre, 4–5, 8, 82, 83, 85–86, 92, 95, 243 German, 102, 111–114, 117, 141, 142, 198 grammaticalization, 141–143, 171–174, 179–200, 207, 208, 225, 228 scope expansion 198 grammaticization see grammaticalization Greek, 82–83, 85, 89 grounding 13–15, 17, 23, 27–28 H headless referring expression, 6–7, 13–14, 26 headless relative clause see headless referring expression; relative clause honorific see addressee honorific I indefinite description, 37, 69 Indonesian, colloquial, 1–31 interjection, 80, 90, 94, 232 J Japanese, 198–200, 205–229, 231–245
O object complement, 126, 133, 135–136, 207, 211, 213–214, 218, 223, 225, 227 object complement marker, 207, 209–213, 214, 218–219, 221, 225, 228
semi-SFP see semisentence-final particle SFP see sentence-final particle turn-initial particle, 129, 133, 140, 143, 147, 148, 149, 158 power 88, 94 pragmaticization see also grammaticalization, 197–198 predicate see also complementtaking predicates, predication, 7, 10, 12, 13, 59–66, 69–70, 71–73, 108–109, 128, 233–234, 236, 238, 241 predication, 61–64, 69, 71 attributive predicate , 58, 59–62 secondary predicate, 62–64 stage-level predicate 61, 62 presupposed information, 13–14, 15, 17, 23, 25, 27–28 projection, 39, 40, 50–51, 55, 69, 105, 109–110, 114–116, 129, 140, 145–146, 147, 162, 167, 168–169, 170, 171 protasis, 112–14 pseudocleft, 100, 101–10, 116, 184 pseudo-cleft see pseudocleft
P paraphrase, 104, 105–106, 133, 142, 144, 158–159, 173–174 particle, 79–80, 81, 125–149, 153–154, 156–160, 163, 165–175, 179–200, 205–228, 231–245 discourse particle 70–71 evidential particle see also evidentiality, 125–149 hearsay particle see also evidential particle, 37 pragmatic particle, 81, 126, 146–147, 149, 198, 207, 235 quotative particle 205–228, 231–232 sentence-final particle, 197, 198, 206, 207, 209, 212, 215, 218, 219, 222, 224–26, 228 semi-sentence-final particle, 209, 218–222, 224, 225, 226–228
Q question-word questions, 15 quotation see also reported speech, 52, 94, 134–139, 144, 147, 155–156, 157–158, 161–164, 166–168, 172–174, 208, 212, 215, 217–218, 220–226, 232, 233, 238–240, 245 direct quotation, 157, 162, 172, 174, 208, 212, 215, 217, 218, 220, 221, 225 indirect quotation 126, 157, 161–163, 212–213, 215, 217, 218, 220, 221, 223, 226 quotation marker, 207 quotative see also particle, quotative particle, 34–73, 205–229, 231–245 quotative dependent, 37, 48, 56–57, 58, 67–69 quotative verb, 37, 52–58, 59, 70
K Korean, 198, 199 L light verb, 37, 50 M manner of speech verbs, 52 modality marker, 207, 222–225 multifunctionality see categoriality, continuum multiple voices see voice N narrative, 8, 83, 84–86, 89, 91–92, 136 nominalized relative clause see relative clause, headless noun modification, 6–13, 24, 25–27 noun phrase, 8–30, 62–64, 69, 101, 102, 108–109, 163 NP see noun phrase
Index of subjects quote see quotation R referent identification, 21, 27, referring expression, 2, 6–7, 17–27, 30 register see also standard, 4, 81, 82–83, 84–89, 90, 92–94, 95, 107, 199 colloquial, 2, 3, 4–6, 8, 36, 52, 81, 83, 85–87, 90, 92–95 relative clause, 2–3, 5–14, 24, 26–30, 116 attributive, 9, 10, 25 headless, 6–7, 13, 14 head noun, 2, 6–12, 13–14, 17, 24, 25–27, 28–29, 212 internally-headed, 26–27 restrictive, 2, 3, 7, 8, 10 repair, 131, 132, 138–139, 235–236 reported speech see also quotation, 36, 94, 127, 129, 135, 140–148, 155, 167, 174, 213, 215, 224, 226 S standard see also register, 4, 6, 26, 30, 81, 83, 84–86, 93,
95, 111, 112–113, 115, 125, 126, 193 non-standard, 84, 86–87, 95, 113, 193 style see also register, 193, 231, 235 Swedish, 133, 142, 173 relativizer, 28 restriction see relative clause, restrictive sequence, 83, 125, 127, 132, 133, 139–140, 148–149, 170, 189–191, 194, 195, 199 speech act, 40, 44–46, 47, 48, 54, 71, 72, 207, 208, 211, 223, 232 quantification over, 37, 41–46, 68 speech act operator, 44 speech act verbs, 157, 162, 164, 172, 173–174, 215, 232 speech event, 37, 38–39, 41, 44, 48–49, 68, 157–158 spoken language, 4, 84, 86, 89, 90, 95, 119, 126, 156, 173, 209 Spanish, 35–73 subordination, 1–2, 9, 24, 27, 28, 30, 99–100, 111–13, 116–118, 119, 126, 139, 160,
161–162, 164, 167, 173, 205, 206–208, 227, 228 T topic, 12, 51, 83, 107, 139, 209, 213–15, 221, 225, 232, 233–34, 237, 238 topic marker, 209, 213–215, 221, 225, 232, 233–234, 237 U unattached NP, 17, 18–19, 23–24, 26 unfolding see also binding, 82–83 V voice, 135, 136–40, 155, 156, 157–59, 164, 171, 173 W written language, 86, 89, 119, 129, 142, 173, 209
Typological Studies in Language A complete list of titles in this series can be found on the publishers’ website, www.benjamins.com 84 Newman, John (ed.): The Linguistics of Eating and Drinking. Expected February 2009 83 Corrigan, Roberta L., Edith Moravscik, Hamid Ouali and Kathleen M. Wheatley (eds.): Formulaic Language. Volume 2. Acquisition, loss, psychological reality, functional applications. xxii, 344 pp. + index. Expected January 2009 82 Corrigan, Roberta L., Edith A. Moravcsik, Hamid Ouali and Kathleen M. Wheatley (eds.): Formulaic Language. Volume 1. Distribution and historical change. xxii, 295 pp. + index. Expected January 2009 81 Corbett, Greville G. and Michael Noonan (eds.): Case and Grammatical Relations. Studies in honor of Bernard Comrie. ix, 282 pp. + index. Expected December 2008 80 Laury, Ritva (ed.): Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining. The multifunctionality of conjunctions. 2008. xiv, 253 pp. 79 Abraham, Werner and Elisabeth Leiss (eds.): Modality–Aspect Interfaces. Implications and typological solutions. 2008. xxiv, 422 pp. 78 Harrison, K. David, David S. Rood and Arienne Dwyer (eds.): Lessons from Documented Endangered Languages. 2008. vi, 375 pp. 77 Seoane, Elena and María José López-Couso (eds.): Theoretical and Empirical Issues in Grammaticalization. In collaboration with Teresa Fanego. 2008. x, 367 pp. 76 López-Couso, María José and Elena Seoane (eds.): Rethinking Grammaticalization. New perspectives. In collaboration with Teresa Fanego. 2008. x, 355 pp. 75 Frajzyngier, Zygmunt and Erin Shay (eds.): Interaction of Morphology and Syntax. Case studies in Afroasiatic. 2008. v, 234 pp. 74 Kurzon, Dennis and Silvia Adler (eds.): Adpositions. Pragmatic, semantic and syntactic perspectives. 2008. viii, 307 pp. 73 Ansaldo, Umberto, Stephen Matthews and Lisa Lim (eds.): Deconstructing Creole. 2007. xii, 292 pp. 72 Næss, Åshild: Prototypical Transitivity. 2007. x, 240 pp. 71 Nedjalkov, Vladimir P. (ed.): Reciprocal Constructions. With the assistance of Emma Š. Geniušienė and Zlatka Guentchéva. 2007. xxiii, 2219 pp. (5 vols.). 70 Zúñiga, Fernando: Deixis and Alignment. Inverse systems in indigenous languages of the Americas. 2006. xii, 309 pp. 69 Aranovich, Raúl (ed.): Split Auxiliary Systems. A cross-linguistic perspective. 2007. vii, 277 pp. 68 Abraham, Werner and Larisa Leisiö (eds.): Passivization and Typology. Form and function. 2006. x, 553 pp. 67 Veselinova, Ljuba N.: Suppletion in Verb Paradigms. Bits and pieces of the puzzle. 2006. xviii, 236 pp. 66 Hickmann, Maya and Stéphane Robert (eds.): Space in Languages. Linguistic Systems and Cognitive Categories. 2006. x, 362 pp. 65 Tsunoda, Tasaku and Taro Kageyama (eds.): Voice and Grammatical Relations. In Honor of Masayoshi Shibatani. 2006. xviii, 342 pp. 64 Voeltz, F. K. Erhard (ed.): Studies in African Linguistic Typology. 2006. xiv, 426 pp. 63 Filimonova, Elena (ed.): Clusivity. Typology and case studies of the inclusive–exclusive distinction. 2005. xii, 436 pp. 62 Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth and Cecilia E. Ford (eds.): Sound Patterns in Interaction. Crosslinguistic studies from conversation. 2004. viii, 406 pp. 61 Bhaskararao, Peri and Karumuri Venkata Subbarao (eds.): Non-nominative Subjects. Volume 2. 2004. xii, 319 pp. 60 Bhaskararao, Peri and Karumuri Venkata Subbarao (eds.): Non-nominative Subjects. Volume 1. 2004. xii, 325 pp. 59 Fischer, Olga, Muriel Norde and Harry Perridon (eds.): Up and down the Cline – The Nature of Grammaticalization. 2004. viii, 406 pp. 58 Haspelmath, Martin (ed.): Coordinating Constructions. 2004. xcv, 578 pp.
57 Mattissen, Johanna: Dependent-Head Synthesis in Nivkh. A contribution to a typology of polysynthesis. 2003. x, 350 pp. 56 Shay, Erin and Uwe Seibert (eds.): Motion, Direction and Location in Languages. In honor of Zygmunt Frajzyngier. 2003. xvi, 305 pp. 55 Frajzyngier, Zygmunt and Erin Shay: Explaining Language Structure through Systems Interaction. 2003. xviii, 309 pp. 54 Aikhenvald, Alexandra Y. and R.M.W. Dixon (eds.): Studies in Evidentiality. 2003. xiv, 349 pp. 53 Givón, T. and Bertram F. Malle (eds.): The Evolution of Language out of Pre-language. 2002. x, 394 pp. 52 Güldemann, Tom and Manfred von Roncador (eds.): Reported Discourse. A meeting ground for different linguistic domains. 2002. xii, 425 pp. 51 Newman, John (ed.): The Linguistics of Sitting, Standing and Lying. 2002. xii, 409 pp. 50 Feigenbaum, Susanne and Dennis Kurzon (eds.): Prepositions in their Syntactic, Semantic and Pragmatic Context. 2002. vi, 304 pp. 49 Wischer, Ilse and Gabriele Diewald (eds.): New Reflections on Grammaticalization. 2002. xiv, 437 pp. 48 Shibatani, Masayoshi (ed.): The Grammar of Causation and Interpersonal Manipulation. 2002. xviii, 551 pp. 47 Baron, Irène, Michael Herslund and Finn Sørensen (eds.): Dimensions of Possession. 2001. vi, 337 pp. 46 Aikhenvald, Alexandra Y., R.M.W. Dixon and Masayuki Onishi (eds.): Non-canonical Marking of Subjects and Objects. 2001. xii, 364 pp. 45 Bybee, Joan and Paul J. Hopper (eds.): Frequency and the Emergence of Linguistic Structure. 2001. vii, 492 pp. 44 Voeltz, F. K. Erhard and Christa Kilian-Hatz (eds.): Ideophones. 2001. x, 436 pp. 43 Gildea, Spike (ed.): Reconstructing Grammar. Comparative Linguistics and Grammaticalization. 2000. xiv, 269 pp. 42 Diessel, Holger: Demonstratives. Form, function and grammaticalization. 1999. xii, 205 pp. 41 Frajzyngier, Zygmunt and Traci S. Walker-Curl (eds.): Reciprocals. Forms and functions. Volume 2. 2000. xii, 201 pp. 40 Frajzyngier, Zygmunt and Traci S. Walker-Curl (eds.): Reflexives. Forms and functions. Volume 1. 2000. xiv, 286 pp. 39 Payne, Doris L. and Immanuel Barshi (eds.): External Possession. 1999. ix, 573 pp. 38 Siewierska, Anna and Jae Jung Song (eds.): Case, Typology and Grammar. In honor of Barry J. Blake. 1998. 395 pp. 37 Giacalone-Ramat, Anna and Paul J. Hopper (eds.): The Limits of Grammaticalization. 1998. vi, 307 pp. 36 Newman, John (ed.): The Linguistics of Giving. 1998. xv, 373 pp. 35 Givón, T. (ed.): Grammatical Relations. A functionalist perspective. 1997. viii, 350 pp. 34 Givón, T. (ed.): Conversation. Cognitive, communicative and social perspectives. 1997. viii, 302 pp. 33 Fox, Barbara A. (ed.): Studies in Anaphora. 1996. xii, 518 pp. 32 Bybee, Joan and Suzanne Fleischman (eds.): Modality in Grammar and Discourse. 1995. viii, 575 pp. 31 Gernsbacher, Morton Ann and T. Givón (eds.): Coherence in Spontaneous Text. 1995. x, 267 pp. 30 Downing, Pamela A. and Michael Noonan (eds.): Word Order in Discourse. 1995. x, 595 pp. 29 Kahrel (PJK), Peter and René van den Berg (eds.): Typological Studies in Negation. 1994. x, 385 pp. 28 Givón, T. (ed.): Voice and Inversion. 1994. viii, 402 pp. 27 Fox, Barbara A. and Paul J. Hopper (eds.): Voice: Form and Function. 1994. xiii, 377 pp. 26 Lord, Carol: Historical Change in Serial Verb Constructions. 1993. x, 273 pp. 25 Svorou, Soteria: The Grammar of Space. 1994. xiv, 290 pp. 24 Perkins, Revere D.: Deixis, Grammar, and Culture. 1992. x, 245 pp. 23 Kemmer, Suzanne: The Middle Voice. 1993. xii, 300 pp. 22 Payne, Doris L. (ed.): Pragmatics of Word Order Flexibility. 1992. viii, 320 pp. 21 Downing, Pamela A., Susan D. Lima and Michael Noonan (eds.): The Linguistics of Literacy. 1992. xx, 334 pp.
20 Croft, William, Suzanne Kemmer and Keith Denning (eds.): Studies in Typology and Diachrony. Papers presented to Joseph H. Greenberg on his 75th birthday. 1990. xxxiv, 243 pp. 19:2 Traugott, Elizabeth Closs and Bernd Heine (eds.): Approaches to Grammaticalization. Volume II. Types of grammatical markers. 1991. xii, 558 pp. 19:1 Traugott, Elizabeth Closs and Bernd Heine (eds.): Approaches to Grammaticalization. Volume I. Theoretical and methodological issues. 1991. xii, 360 pp. 18 Haiman, John and Sandra A. Thompson (eds.): Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse. 1988. xiii, 428 pp. 17 Hammond, Michael, Edith A. Moravcsik and Jessica Wirth (eds.): Studies in Syntactic Typology. 1988. xiv, 380 pp. 16 Shibatani, Masayoshi (ed.): Passive and Voice. 1988. xi, 706 pp. 15 Austin, Peter (ed.): Complex Sentence Constructions in Australian Languages. 1988. vii, 289 pp. 14 Hinds, John, Shoichi Iwasaki and Senko K. Maynard (eds.): Perspectives on Topicalization. The case of Japanese WA. 1987. xi, 307 pp. 13 Never published. 12 Nedjalkov, Vladimir P. (ed.): Typology of Resultative Constructions. Translated from the original Russian edition (1983). Translation edited by Bernard Comrie. 1988. xx, 573 pp. 11 Tomlin, Russell S.: Coherence and Grounding in Discourse. Outcome of a Symposium, Eugene, Oregon, June 1984. 1987. viii, 512 pp. 10 Ransom, Evelyn N.: Complementation: its Meaning and Forms. 1986. xii, 226 pp. 9 Bybee, Joan: Morphology. A Study of the Relation between Meaning and Form. 1985. xii, 235 pp. 8 Slobin, Dan I. and Karl Zimmer (eds.): Studies in Turkish Linguistics. 1986. vi, 294 pp. 7 Craig, Colette G. (ed.): Noun Classes and Categorization. Proceedings of a symposium on categorization and noun classification, Eugene, Oregon, October 1983. 1986. vii, 481 pp. 6 Haiman, John (ed.): Iconicity in Syntax. Proceedings of a symposium on iconicity in syntax, Stanford, June 24–26, 1983. 1985. vi, 402 pp. 5 Rutherford, William E. (ed.): Language Universals and Second Language Acquisition. 1984. ix, 264 pp. 4 Chisholm, William, Louis T. Milic and John A.C. Greppin (eds.): Interrogativity. A colloquium on the grammar, typology and pragmatics of questions in seven diverse languages, Cleveland, Ohio, October 5th 1981-May 3rd 1982. 1984. v, 302 pp. 3 Givón, T.: Topic Continuity in Discourse. A quantitative cross-language study. 1983. vi, 492 pp. 2 Haiman, John and Pamela Munro (eds.): Switch Reference and Universal Grammar. Proceedings of a symposium on switch reference and universal grammar, Winnipeg, May 1981. 1983. xv, 337 pp. 1 Hopper, Paul J. (ed.): Tense-Aspect. Between semantics & pragmatics. 1982. x, 350 pp.
