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piano, soft
pianissimo, very soft allegro, fast lento, slow crescendo, becoming louder diminuendo, becoming softer ACcent primary or main accent Accent secondary accent !AC!cent extra strong accent `SO fall ´SO rise – SO level ^SO rise-fall
Susanne Günthner
`´SO fall-rise ↑` small pitch step-up to the peak of the accented syllable ↓´ small pitch step-down to the bottom of the accented syllable ↑`SO or ↓´SO conspicuously high or low pitch step-up or down to the peak or the bottom of the accented syllable forte, loud fortissimo, very loud
piano, soft
pianissimo, very soft allegro, fast lento, slow crescendo, becoming louder diminuendo, becoming softer accelerando, becoming faster rallentando, becoming slower .h, .hh, .hhh in breathe, according to duration h, hh, hhh out breathe, according to duration
Interrogative “complements” and question design in Estonian Leelo Keevallik
Research Associate, Uppsala University Some interrogative subject and object complement clauses are not treated as subordinate in Estonian interaction. They are interactionally profiled, as participants answer them as questions. Grammatically, they behave like independent clauses, displaying inversion and the turn-final question particle vä/ve. The main clauses considered in the chapter, ütle/öelge ‘say!’, räägi ‘talk/tell!’, ei tea ‘not know’, and uvitav ‘interesting’, instead function as (epistemic) particles projecting and designing questions in a sequentially and interpersonally sensitive way. Keywords: interrogative complements, indirect questions, interaction, epistemics, pragmatic particles
Introduction Grammar comes into being in the everyday usage of language. It is created, negotiated, and changed in encounters between the speakers of the language (Bybee & Hopper 2001, Hopper 1987, 1998, Schegloff 1996). When engaging in conversation, participants analyze each others’ contributions and regularly display their understanding of what was said in subsequent turns at talk. These displayed understandings are available to the analyst, who by focusing on sequences of turns can make empirically based claims on how the speakers in a certain language community deploy and interpret different grammatical devices. This proof procedure has been established as one of the cornerstones of conversation analysis (Sacks, Schegloff & Jefferson 1974: 728–729). Studying the core grammatical structures, such as clause combining and complementation, in interaction is therefore a great opportunity as well as a necessity for an adequate description of a language. The aim of this study is to look at how speakers of Estonian use clauses that have been analyzed as interrogative complements in Estonian grammar and as indirect questions in some other traditions (e.g. Payne 1997: 316). The clauses start
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with interrogative pronouns or question particles, and they have been described as dependent clauses that follow complement taking predicates (CTPs) or as predicate adjective clauses (Erelt et al. 1993: 107–108; 289–291). The paper focuses on three prototypical CTPs, namely verbs of speaking and knowing, and one adjective. The choice is made purely on the basis of frequency, as these were the only recurrent formats of the relevant kind in the data. The three CTPs are ütle/öelge, the imperative of ‘say’, räägi, the imperative of ‘tell/talk’, and (ei) tea ‘(NEG) know’; the predicate adjective is uvitav ‘interesting’. In interactional Estonian all the four items are regularly used together with interrogative clauses. The paper argues that these interrogative clauses are not treated as subordinate complements by the speakers of Estonian, i.e. they are not cognitively, interactionally or prosodically backgrounded, or grammatically dependent. They do not display any syntactic features that would make them incapable to stand in isolation, as they involve finite verb forms and do not involve subordinate conjunctions. Instead, the clauses function as independent clauses, while the “main clauses” are used as epistemic particles and devices of structuring conversation. Their contribution is content-wise subsidiary and at a different structural level in comparison with what the interrogative clause accomplishes. There is only one process that is cognitively profiled (Langacker 1991) in the compound syntactic unit, and that is expressed in the interrogative clause. All of the formats are implemented in the social action that can most generally be characterized as asking a question. The paper will take a systematic look on question design that involves these short “main clauses” and “complements”. A number of recent studies have questioned the existence of complementation in different languages (Englebretson 2003, Laury 2006, Thompson 2002, Thompson and Mulac 1991). The speakers in actual conversations have been shown to treat the CTP clauses as evidential/epistemic/evaluative phrases that modify the upcoming clause (Thompson 2002). Therefore, the CTP clauses cannot be analyzed as being main clauses in regard to the complements. In contrast to the CTPs that have been described in the literature so far, the imperatives studied in the current paper relate to turn-taking and conversation structure rather than modify the upcoming interrogative clause. The paper thus contributes to the literature on reanalyzing the relationship between complements and main clauses, but brings in a new dimension of sequencing of actions as a crucial factor in understanding the functions of the “main clauses”. Second, it will argue that the CTPs attend to the assumed epistemic state of the conversation partner, thus working on the intersubjective level rather than phrasing the subjective attitude of the speaker. It is customary to analyze the following sentences as including a main or matrix clause and an interrogative complement clause (Erelt et al. 1993: 281–282, 289–292). The idiomatic English translations of the CTPs are best approximations
Interrogative “complements” and question design
but since there is no word-by-word counterpart to any of these items, they will be left untranslated in the rest of the article. Transcription and glossing conventions can be found at the end of the article. (1) Ütle mis ma tegema pean. say;imp;2sg what I do:sup must:1sg ‘Tell me what I have to do’ (2) Räägi kuidas sul läks täna. tell;imp;2sg how you:ads go:imf;3sg today ‘Tell me how it went today’ (3) Ei tea mis kellast doktor Laane vastu võtab. neg know what time:elt doctor name receive:3sg ‘I wonder when doctor Laane will be seeing patients’ (4) Uvitav miks ma talle meeldin. interesting why I she:all please:1sg ‘I wonder why she likes me.’ In cases (1–3), the verb is transitive, needing an object, and the following clause is thus analyzed as an object complement clause. In Example (4) the adjective (possibly an elliptical predicate adjective clause) is followed by a subject complement clause. The traditional analysis is as follows. Main clause Ütle ‘tell me’ Räägi ‘tell me’ Ei tea ‘I wonder’ Uvitav ‘I wonder’
Object or subject complement mis ma tegema pean ‘what I have to do’ kuidas sul läks täna ‘how it went today’ mis kellast doctor Laane vastu võtab ’when doctor Laane will be seeing patients’ miks ma talle meeldin ‘why she likes me’
Using interactional data, the paper discusses the semantic, syntactic and prosodic features of these short ‘main clauses’ in relation to the following interrogative clauses. The first question is, which part is profiled by the participants in terms of the achieved action. And the second one, related and no less crucial, is how the two parts figure in the interactive tasks of turn construction, sequence organization and interpersonal epistemics. The data The data comes mainly from two contemporary spoken language corpora. The first one was collected and transcribed by myself in 1997–1998 and consists of
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naturally occurring telemarketing calls as well as everyday calls between family members, relatives, friends, and colleagues (henceforth the LK corpus). It includes about 103,€000 words. The Tartu corpus is publicly available and constantly growing, consisting of about 700, 000 words at the moment. The data there comes from a variety of settings, including face-to-face conversations (henceforth the TA corpus). Internet has been used as a supplementary source. It is nowadays the largest collection of informal and interactional Estonian. My own native speaker intuition has provided the guarantee that the examples from there are indeed idiomatic. Each example is provided with a code showing its origin (LK, TA, NET respectively). Hundreds of relevant examples can of course be found on the internet. However, the analysis here depends on a close study of the evolving interactional sequences, as the immediate reaction to the format by another participant is crucial. The main weight of the analysis is therefore on the conversational data. As can be seen in Table (1), there are two imperative forms to take into account, as number is marked in verbs in Estonian. The singular forms are ütle and räägi, and the plural ones öelge (with a morphological variant ütelge which occurs four times in TA) and rääkige. The latter does not occur with interrogative clauses in the corpora due to contextual differences discussed below. The choice between singular and plural may depend on the number of recipients. More often, though, the forms are chosen according to social distance between the speakers and the formality of the situation. Plural implies distance and deference. In negation, however, Estonian verb forms take neither person nor number endings, which is why ei tea can be applied to any person or number. The numbers in the table show that out of the three CTPs the imperative plural of ‘say’ is most often used with interrogative clauses and the imperative of ‘tell, talk’ is least frequent in this collocation. Qualitatively, however, they work in a similar way. We will first look at these two verbs when followed by an interrogative clause. Table 1.╇ General frequencies of the items in the spoken language corpora
ütle ‘say!’ öelge ‘say:PL!’ räägi ‘tell!’ rääkige ‘tell:PL!’ (ei) tea ‘(NEG) know’ uvitav ‘interesting’
LK
TA
Total
16 50 10 â•⁄ 0 13 â•⁄ 4
22 55 + 4 (ütelge) 13 â•⁄ 0 25 17
â•⁄ 38 109 â•⁄ 23 â•⁄â•⁄ 0 â•⁄ 38 â•⁄ 21
Interrogative “complements” and question design
Projecting actions 1: The imperative of ‘say’ A typical example of ütle/öelge comes from the very beginning of a telephone call. In Example (5) the caller inquires about when a person will arrive at his job. The inquiry, which also represents the reason for the call, is preceded by öelge. In this particular sequential environment, öelge alone cannot constitute a complete turn, as it does not “recognizably implement an action” (Schegloff 1996: 59). It is pragmatically incomplete and therefore heard by the participants as projecting additional talk. The next speaker is expected to wait until the projected unit, a question, has been produced. Throughout the examples of the paper, the “main clause” will be bolded and the “complement clause” italicized. (5) 1 K: rahvamuuseum, Mirja Kaarep kuuleb, folk.museum name name listen:3sg ‘Folk museum, Mirja Kaarep here.’ 2 I: tervist. ‘Hi!’ 3 K: tervist, ‘Hi!’ 4 I: palun öelge (0.8) mis kell: omme Siivelt please tell:imp;2pl what time tomorrow name ‘Please öelge (0.8) at what time will Siivelt’ 5 Alo tööle tuleb. name work:all come:3sg ‘Alo arrive at work tomorrow.’ 6 K: ta tuleb (.) kella kaheksaks tavaliselt, he come:3sg clock:gen eight:tra usually ‘He usually arrives at eight.’
(LK)
Öelge projects a continuation of the turn, which is witnessed by the interlocutor’s silence during the pause in line (4). If palun öelge ‘please tell (me)’ had been a full turn construction unit on its own, the speaker K could have responded in this space. The projection achieved by öelge is partly actional, as it projects a specific further action, and partly grammatical, as it projects an object. The two types of projection are, of course, interdependent (Auer 2005), as interaction is the primordial locus of the emergence and implementation of grammar. As a strong projector of a same-turn continuation, öelge is a device of turn-design.
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In terms of the semantic/pragmatic meaning, the imperative of ‘say’ explicitly orders the recipient to say something. It thereby makes relevant a response, which is indeed provided in line (6). Epistemically, öelge as a straightforward imperative marks certainty that the recipient will have the answer to the upcoming question. The content of what the interlocutor is expected to ‘say’ is yet to come, as öelge does not convey anything about the semantics of what is coming up. Instead, it projects the action type that will be carried out in the ongoing turn, asking a question. The action itself is yet to be provided. Crucially, Estonian clauses do not regularly reveal their dependency status via word order or auxiliaries. It is only marginally possible to construct inversion yes/ no questions that will be discussed below. The clause in Example (5) thus has two alternative translations, shown as (a) and (b). (lines 4–5, Example 5) mis kell omme Siivelt Alo tööle tuleb (? clause) what time tomorrow name name work:all come:3sg a. ‘when Siivelt Alo will arrive at work tomorrow’ (dependent clause) b. ‘When will Siivelt Alo arrive at work tomorrow?’ (independent clause) Below, variant b will be used in all the translations, but the reader is requested to always keep variant a in mind, as for the speakers of Estonian both variants are equally possible. Characteristically, öelge in Example (5) initiates the topic of reason-for-call and in institutional calls regularly collocates with the polite palun ‘please’. In fact, the plural form öelge hardly ever occurs without palun1. Palun öelge, and especially öelge palun seems to be a recurrent way of initiating a question and the first topic in an institutional call. All the telemarketers in the LK corpus use the formulaic öelge palun or palun öelge to initiate the first and only topic of marketing calls, which is why the overall frequency of öelge is very high (50 cases in all). The TA corpus also includes numerous cases of öelge (59 in all). A large share of the instances there come from call centers (33), which may reflect the high epistemic expectation that the recipient will have the answer. A typical example follows. (6) 1 V: infotelefon Ker[sti tere,] information.line name hi ‘Information line, Kersti, hi!’ 1. Interestingly, palun itself has grammaticalized into a pragmatic particle from a verb form ‘I beg’ and it also occurs as a question preface, as in palun kuhu te elistate ‘please/excuse me, where are you calling?’ (Keevallik 2003: 140–153).
Interrogative “complements” and question design
2 H:
[tere palun] öelg(e) hi please tell:imp;2pl ‘Hi, please öelge’
3 kuskohas Pärnus on ilusalong Dione. where:ins name:ins is beauty.parlor name where is the beauty parlor Dione in Pärnu? 4 V: üks hetk, one moment ‘One moment’
(TA)
Thus, öelge + palun + question is a format that is used in institutional single-task calls to initiate the first and often the only topic of the call. This kind of so-called question frames have been claimed to be characteristic of institutional discourse, at least what concerns their Swedish counterparts (Lindholm & Lindström 2003: 52–57). However, ütle/öelge is not restricted to institutional calls. Example (7) demonstrates identical usage in a non-institutional call between members of the same housing unit. As these speakers address each other in singular, the verb occurs in singular. (7) 1 H: =tere Alo. kuule Veiko Tohter on siin. hi name kuule name name is here ‘Hi Alo, listen, Veiko Tohter here.’ 2 I: noh, ‘Yeah’ 3 H: .hh kule ütle palun kudas hh edeneb kule tell;imp;2sg please how progress:3sg ‘Listen ütle please how is it going’ 4 meil see hh erastamine meil seal – we:ads this privatization we:ads there ‘with the privatization there?’ 5 I: ei edene, ei edene.= neg progress neg progress ‘It’s not.’
(LK)
In non-institutional conversations, ütle frequently follows the informal turn-initial kule, originally kuule ‘listen:IMP:2SG’, which is regularly used to present the reason for the call in Estonian and several adjacent cultures (Hakulinen et al. 2003). While kule does not put constraints on the grammatical nature of the upcoming syntactic units (Keevallik 2003: 53–74), ütle projects an interrogative clause, a
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question for the interlocutor to be responded to. Both regularly initiate reason-forthe-call turns, thus displaying a certain amount of overlap in function. However, the usage of ütle/öelge is not restricted to the beginning of a conversation. It may be used more widely to initiate and pursue alternative topics. In the middle of an ongoing conversation, öelge or ütle is used to project a question that initiates a new (sub)topic. In Example (8), the speaker E is describing some logistical matters of a Christmas performance, when A starts competing for the turn with an information request concerning the length of the performance. This competing topic is initiated with an ütle-question. (8) 1 E: [ja] sis: ee, me and then we And then we 2 [lähme karjaste juurde sisse.] go:1pl shepherd:pl;gen to;ill in;ill go in to the ‘shepherds.’ 3 A: [ütle mitu minutit Ene ] say;imp;2sg many minute:prt name ‘Ütle Ene how many minutes’ 4 see kokku tuli präägu. this together come:imf;3sg now ’the whole thing is now?’ 5 E: h ee, eks ta tuleb umbes pool tundi. eks it come:3sg about half hour;prt ‘Well it should be about half an hour.’
(LK)
A’s question in lines (3–4) is an initiation of a longer sequence concerning the problem that too few people would be able to see the show, as the space for the audience is limited. On the other hand, the show is planned to run several times, which is why its length is of importance. The ütle-initiated turn thus initiates a whole new topical and action sequence. It breaks the ongoing logistical explanation by E and makes an answer by her a next relevant action. Ütle initiates a new local trajectory for the conversation. The speaker A initiates the turn and the topic in overlap, without reacting to the prior turn. Being an item that only defines the nature of the upcoming turn without giving away any of its semantic content, ütle is a suitable turn-claiming device to be produced in overlap. It need not be properly heard. Ütle is a device for the next speaker to escape the sequential context and contingencies of the prior turn. Every turn is inescapably produced in the given context and ütle addresses this problem as a displacement marker that locally accomplishes a shift from the
Interrogative “complements” and question design
relevant next action to an initiation of something new. It has been argued that imperatives generally claim noteworthiness and can therefore develop into this kind of turn-claiming items (Waltereit 2002). It seems, though, that any item that is regularly turn-initial, may also function as a turn-claiming item, including some imperatives. In all of the examples with the imperative of ‘say’ + interrogative clause, the recipient of the turn responds by answering the question. This proves that the interrogative clause is profiled in conversation. It constitutes the main focus for the participants that attend to the interrogative. Subsequent action by the recipient is the criterion used by Sandra Thompson (2002: 131–134) to demonstrate that the “complement clause” is profiled in interaction. She argues that claims on which clause is profiled in a grammatical structure need to refer to the course of actions that the participants are engaged in. Thompson demonstrates that in conversational data the profiles of this type of “complement clause” regularly override those of the “main clause”, because the recipients of these turns typically orient to the “complement clause” in their subsequent actions. Accordingly, when the Estonian speakers regularly orient to the interrogative clause as making relevant an answer, it is interactionally profiled and overrides the “main clause”. In the case of ütle/öelge, however, the main clause also gets a response, as in it the interlocutor is literally urged to say something and she indeed does. At the same time, the imperative is quite redundant – a question alone would have accomplished exactly the same task of pursuing an answer to the question. This is one reason for looking closer into when and why these questions are designed with the preface. The general pattern that emerges for ütle/öelge-question is that they are not evenly distributed across all the data. As has become clear in the examples above, they are specifically used to initiate a new topic and sequence, including the initiation of the first topic of telephone calls. Their function is to create structure in the conversation. The imperative CTP preface marks a distinct action boundary in interaction, making salient certain transitions between larger chunks of talk. Besides the distributional pattern, there are also grammatical and turn-constructional reasons for considering ütle/öelge a question preface rather than a main clause. For example, while projecting the action type of the upcoming turn, it does not have to be adjacent to the question. The interrogative clause can be produced further down the turn after an intervening segment, which should be impossible in case ütle/öelge was truly a main clause, as CTPs precede their complements in Estonian. Excerpt (9) illustrates this point. In this telemarketing call, the segment that immediately follows öelge palun ‘tell me please’ is not a question but a statement. After öelge palun the telemarketer introduces some background information to the question he is about to pose. At the same time, öelge palun still projects a question. There is no final prosody at the end of the statement about the
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complementary subscription, and the turn is not pragmatically complete either. Accordingly, the interlocutor refrains from taking the turn until the question has been produced. (9) 1 M: [.h] öelge palun te tegite tell:imp;2pl please you:pl do:imf:2pl ‘Öelge please, you made an introductory’ 2 tutvumistellimuse Liivi introductory.subscription:gen name ‘subscription for Liivi Linnaleht,’ 3 Linnalehele, kas leht käib name:all ques paper go:3sg ‘do you receive the paper’ 4 teil präegu. you:pl:ads now ‘at the moment?’ 5 K: jaa tänan, käib,= yeah thank.you go:3sg ‘Yeah I do, thank you’
(LK)
Interlocutors treat ütle/öelge as projecting a request for information. Other units may come in between but the speakers do not treat their completion as a transition relevance place, i.e. a place where the other speaker could start speaking. The turninitial imperative of ‘say’ can thus be used to initiate longer multi-unit turns ending in an information request. This interactional structure, where a segment projects an action which is then delayed by another unit, has been described by Schegloff (1980). Although the projective segments discussed by him are clausal, such as let me ask you this or can I ask you a question, the Estonian single word ütle/öelge functions in a similar way with the exception that the segment itself never elicits a recipient response (a go-ahead). Furthermore, the upcoming side-unit is rarely responded to by the recipient. The whole format is thus much more concise in the case of Estonian ütle/öelge which seems to be a device for turn-design rather than an entire action sequence. However, just as described by Schegloff (1980: 114) for English, and Lindholm and Lindström (2003: 50) for Swedish, the side-units following the projective segments introduce the referent. In the above example, the referent is the subscription to the newspaper that the upcoming question concerns. The side-unit after the initial projection of a question is produced and heard as being in the service of the projected action. Its beginning latches prosodically smoothly to the preface and the falling pitch at its end is not interpreted as a place where the next speaker can take the turn.
Interrogative “complements” and question design
The preface ütle/öelge is a means of showing at the earliest possible point in the turn that an information request is coming up. It projects a question which does not have to occur adjacent to it and cannot therefore be considered its complement. Additional evidence of the autonomy of the CTP and the interrogative clause can be found in cases where ütle/öelge occurs within a particle chain. In these cases the CTP is not adjacent to the interrogative clause either. In Example (10), ütle is used turn-initially among other pragmatic particles. The question it projects is produced after the particle chain including kuule, approx. ‘listen’, ütle, aga ‘but’, and näiteks ‘for example’. (10) 1 M: kuule ütle aga, (.) näiteks mis kuule say;imp;2sg but example:tra what ‘Listen ütle but, (.) for example what’ 2 emotsioonid sind valdaksid, kui sa emotion:pl you:prt fill:cond:3pl if you ‘emotions would you have if you were’ 3 oleksid juba vanaema. be:cond:2sg already grandmother ‘a grandmother already?’
(TA)
Finally, there is word order evidence that ütle/öelge is a question preface rather than a main clause. There is one optional syntactic difference between independent and dependent interrogative clauses in Estonian and that is inversion in yes/ no questions. Inversion cannot be used in dependent interrogative clauses, while it is occasionally used in main clauses. And it occurs after ütle/öelge, as in Example (11). This is the grammatical evidence that the interrogative clause used after ütle should be analyzed as an independent clause and not as a complement. (11) 1 E: halloo. Ene kuuleb. hello name listen:3sg ‘Hello, Ene listening.’ 2 H: tere:. Klaarika siinpool. hi name here ‘Hi! Klaarika here.’ 3 E: mhmh? ‘Uhuh’ 4 H: .h ütle on sul Kristeli: telefon. say;imp;2sg is you:ads name:gen phone ‘Ütle do you have Kristel’s phone number?’ 5
(0.7)
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6 H: on tal üldse telefoni. is she:ads üldse phone:prt ‘Does she have a phone?’
(LK)
There are thus two types of syntactic evidence that the interrogative clauses projected by ütle/öelge are not subordinate or dependent. First, they may be non-adjacent to the CTP and second, inversion may be used. The reasons for the preface implementation are rather interactional, concerning turn-design and sequencing of actions in a conversation. In addition to the syntactic evidence, prosodic features suggest that ütle/öelge is not profiled for the participants. It is often incorporated into the following intonation unit as an enclitic element. Occasionally, it carries some amount of stress or a high onset as is characteristic of reason-for-the-call turns (Couper-Kuhlen 2001) but it does not stand out as the most heavily stressed item in the turn or utterance. Instead, it is often produced quicker than the upcoming question and could therefore be heard as subsidiary to it2. The pitch peak is regularly on another item, as shown in Figure 1. In summary, there is hardly any reason to analyze the interrogative clauses following ütle/öelge as subordinate complements. Ütle/öelge indeed projects a question but since it is not necessarily adjacent to the interrogative clause, it cannot be considered a CTP. Rather, it structures the conversation by making explicit the initiations of new topics, functioning like a particle. In fact, it is not uncommon for an
Pitch (Hz)
300
200 150
0
1.85737 Time (s)
Ü t l e o n s u l K r i s t e l i
telefon
Figure 1.╇ The pitch contour of Example (11), line (4)
2. In a similar way, the corresponding Swedish question-projecting phrase jag undrar ‘I wonder’ has been shown to have subordinate prosody with no stress and higher tempo than the surrounding units (Lindström 2002: 65).
Interrogative “complements” and question design
imperative matrix clause to diachronically develop into a particle (Brinton 2001). Ütle/öelge provides a metapragmatic frame anticipating the following segment, as has been shown for e.g. N-be-that-constructions, pseudo-clefts and extrapolations in German (Günthner 2008, this volume; Hopper & Thompson 2008). At the same time, the CTP ütle/öelge may be part of an entire clause, when projecting the turn type and structuring conversation in the above ways. Formats such as ütle mulle seda ‘tell me this’ and ütle mulle niisugust asja ‘tell me such a thing’ occur, where the cataphoric pronoun seda ‘this’ and proadjective niisugust ‘such’ further highlight the projecting nature of the clause. This means that the verb-only format is but one device among a number of functionally identical semantically relatively empty formats for question projection, some of which are more prominent by virtue of their length. However, there is one positional feature that is idiosyncratic to the verb-only format. It is marginally possible to use at least the singular ütle at the end of the turn, after the interrogative clause (a single case in the corpora). (12) 1 R: kule, mis pääval teil vaheaeg kule which day:ads you:pl:ads vacation ‘Listen, when will your school vacation’ 2 akkab koolis ütle. start:3sg school:ins say;imp;2sg ‘start ütle?’ 3 E: mm, (0.2) ma arvan et üheksateiskümnendast. I think:1sg that nineteenth:elt ‘Um, (0.2) on the nineteenth, I think.’
(LK)
Importantly, this is a topic initiation similar to all the other cases of ütle/öelge usage presented earlier. The topical break is also marked by the turn-initial kule, approx. ‘listen’. Like in the cases described above, ütle is here prosodically part of the same unit as the interrogative clause. The intonation does not fall before the turn-final ütle. Also, the interrogative receives an answer. Sequentially and compositionally, this format is identical to the ones described above. However, the turnfinal ütle is heard as an insisting item, reinforcing the question. Rather than projecting the question, it is here retroactively pushing for a response. It is a more pronounced epistemic device than its turn-initial relative, because of this insisting force. The mobility of ütle in a turn underscores its nature of a particle, since an imperative CTP can never occur after the complement clause in Estonian. Ütle/ öelge is not a main clause but an interactional and interpersonal element of question design, a particle that cannot take complements. It is indeed important for the participants, but at a different organizational level as compared to the interrogative clause that sets the action trajectory for the next turn.
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Projecting actions 2: The imperative of ‘tell, talk’ The second person imperative form of räägi ‘tell, talk’ is used very similarly to the imperative of ‘say’ in conversation. It is somewhat less frequent, and in contrast to ‘say’, the plural form räägite is not used with interrogative clauses in the available corpora. This is not a coincidence, as the format of imperative of ‘tell, talk’ + interrogative clause is characteristic of informal style and the verb can thus be expected to occur in singular only. In everyday interaction, the choice between the two verbs is to some extent idiomatic. Similarly to ütle/öelge, the turn-initial räägi initiates a new or the very first topic in conversation. Produced immediately after a self-introduction or a greeting, it cannot constitute a turn on its own, because it does not provide a complete action. It is therefore understood as projecting a continuation by the same speaker, specifically showing that an information request is coming up. Example (13) is a case in point, where after the call-taker’s response to the summons in line (1) the caller initiates an information request with räägi immediately after the greeting. (13) 1 P: jaa, ‘Yeah.’ 2 V: no tere. räägi kuidas sul no hi tell;imp;2sg how you:ads ‘Hi räägi how did (it)’ 3 läks täna. go;imf;3sg today ‘go today?’ 4
(2.0)
(LK)
It turns out, however, that P is not the person that the caller hoped would pick up the phone. Therefore there is a long pause after the elicitation and no response to the question. In its literal meaning, ‘telling, talking’ implies a longer account from the interlocutor than ‘saying’. This may be reflected in the above example with an open question. However, räägi is also used to initiate polar questions with potentially simple short answers identically to ütle/öelge, as happens in Example (14). (14) 1 H: /—/ kesse kuuleb seal. who listen:3sg there ‘Who is listening?’ 2 V: Üllar? name ’Üllar.’
Interrogative “complements” and question design
3 H: Üllar oled jah? (.) kule räägi name be:2sg yeah kule tell;imp;2sg ‘You’re Üllar. Listen, räägi’ 4 kas sul vanaema ka kodus ques you:ads granny too home:ins ‘is your granny at home’ 5 [on vä.] is ques ‘too?’ 6 V: [jaa,] ma kutsun kohe. yeah I call:1sg at.once ‘Yeah, I’ll call her right away.’
(TA)
A yes/no interrogative basically makes relevant a one-word answer, as far as the grammar is concerned. The action it implements, however, may be varied. In the above case, the question is a request for another speaker, which is complied with in line (6). Nevertheless, the ‘telling’ elicited by the räägi-initiated question is very short, which demonstrates the semantic bleaching of räägi. This is characteristic of the grammaticalization process of particles. Similarly to the ütle/öelge pattern, there are both syntactic and prosodic indications to suggest that räägi + interrogative clause cannot be analyzed as main clause + complement. Syntactically, räägi may be implemented before interrogative clauses with inversion, whose analysis as complements is impossible. (15) 1 M: -lo 2 K: tere. ‘Hi!’ 3 M: tere, ‘Hi!’ 4 K: kule räägi on sul see: m, (.) mm kule tell;imp;2sg is you:ads this ‘Listen räägi, do you have the’ 5 selle ambaarsti see, kaart seal this;gen dentist:gen this card there ‘dentist card somewhere’ 6 kuskil käepärast. ks sa ütleks mulle somewhere at.hand ques you say:cond i:all ‘there at hand. Would you tell me’
Leelo Keevallik
7 selle telefoninumbri mis seal peal on. this;gen phone.number:gen that there on is ‘the phone number that’s on it.’ 8
(5.0)
9 M: vot ei ole. vot neg be ‘I don’t’
(LK)
Prosodically, the item is latched to the upcoming prosodic unit, similarly to ütle/ öelge. Even when there is some amount of stress on räägi, it never constitutes a prosodic unit on its own and always projects a continuation. There is no stress on räägi in the above Example (15) and the highest pitch is on the first word of the interrogative clause, as shown in Figure 2. The prosodic features of räägi suggest that the speakers do not necessarily treat it as the profiled main clause but as something subsidiary to the interrogative clause.
Pitch (Hz)
300
200 150
0
Time (s)
5
Räägi on sulsee ambaars tikaart sealkuskil käepärast
Figure 2.╇ The pitch contour of Example (15), lines (4–6)
Similarly to ütle/öelge, räägi can be applied to project a question further down the turn. The question does not have to be adjacent to the projective item itself. Also, it can be part of a longer clausal format, such as räägi seda ‘tell (me) this’, which is functionally identical with the short format. However, only the latter can appear turn-finally, as shown in Example (16). (16) 1 P: jaa ma kuulen, yeah I listen:1sg ‘Yeah, listening’ 2 E: tere Pille, Ene siin. hi name name here ‘Hi Pille, Ene’s here.’
Interrogative “complements” and question design
3 P: tere Ene. ‘Hi Ene’ 4 E: no kuidas läks. no how go:imf;3sg ‘How did (it) go?’ 5
(0.7)
6 P: ma just jõudsime. I just arrive:imf:1pl ‘I/we just came in.’ 7 E: mhmh, täytysmutet< j- joham mä< (.) me siel Lapis but-et already 1sg 1pl there l-ine well but have I< (.) we were there in 02
oltii be-pass-pst Lapland
03 Tyyne: °mm° 04 Liisa: niin siis mökkiä a- a: alotettii ni .hh ptc ptc cottage-prt begin-pass-pst ptc st- starting to build the summer-cottage and 05
>s’tte ku< me oltii syöty then when 1pl be-pass-pst eat-pass-pst.pple .hh >then when<we had eaten then
06
ni päivällä ni J:arkko ja a: Keijo ptc day-ade ptc 1nameM and 1nameM in the day-time then Jarkko and a: Keijo
07
nukku m: niillä< l- leveillä sleep-pst-3pl dem-ade broad-ade were sleeping on m: those br- broad
08
puupenkeillä ja wood-bench-pl-ade and wooden benches and
09 Tyyne: °mm° 10 Liisa: >ja tota< Pena meni siihe l:a:ttialle and ptc 1nameM went dem-ill floor-ade >and uhm Pena streched himself on the 11
pitkälleej ja (0.3) ja tää kuulek long-ade-poss and and this.one listen floor and (0.3) and he (=Keijo) imagine when
12
ku se yks kaks (.) krh ku sä when 3sg one two when 2sg he suddenly (.) krh when you (=Keijo)
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
13
aloit. (.)siis Pena kuules se varmast began-2sg ptc 1nameM listen 3sg certainly began. (.) I mean Pena you see he surely
14
kaks metrii hyppäs two meter-prt jump-pst jumped two meters high
15
[nyt se kuolee?, hehehe hehe now 3sg die [he’s dying now?, hehehe hehe
16 Keijo: [no:: e:i nyt sentääm mutta tota pikkusen well not ptc ptc but ptc a little [well:: no:t quite like that but a little 17 Raija: nii:n, ptc ye:ah, 18 Liisa: >kuule se< s:e on< se listen 3sg 3sg is 3sg >you see that< th:at is< that 19
[on hirveetä. is terrible [is terrible.
20→Tyyne: [että pelästy tosissaan niin, ptc be.frightened-pst really so [että he really was so frightened, 21 Liisa: nii. se todella pelästy että: et miten< ptc 3sg really frighten-pst comp comp how yeah. he really was frightened that what< 22
nyt on käyny. miten tolle how dem-all now be-sg3 happen-pst.pple what has happened now to that guy (=Keijo)
Tyyne’s turn in line 20 begins with että. Syntactically, it is not possible to consider this clause subordinated: there is no preceding structure which could be analyzed as its ‘main’ or ‘matrix’ clause. Tyyne’s previous contribution has been a silent mm in line 9, which is a complete turn by itself. Neither do any of the turns by the other participants project an että-clause as a completion. Yet it is clear that että acts as a linking element, a textual connector marking coherence: specifically, it marks the relation of Tyyne’s turn to the previous talk in terms of action and
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
sequential organization. Could we say that the connection it creates here is subordinating by nature or not? What kind of metacommunicative commenting does it perform? This is a story-telling sequence. Story-telling is typically collaborative action; the role of the recipients is central in marking and elaborating the main point of the story (cf. Sacks 1974: 347; Schegloff 1982: 73]). Here Keijo, who is the main character of Liisa’s story, takes his role as a co-teller in line 16 and gives his own description of Pena’s movements. (Cf. Sacks [1971] 1992: 437–443; C. Goodwin 1979, 1981: 149–166, 1984; Seppänen 1996 regarding the role of knowing recipients in story-telling.) After this, Liisa does not continue the telling, but evaluates the situation she has been describing (lines 18–19). Sequentially, Tyyne’s turn is thus in a position where it is relevant for the story-recipients to express their stance towards the story. Tyyne’s turn, että pelästy tosissaan niin ‘että he really was so frightened’ gives a candidate interpretation of the main point of Liisa’s story: she names the situation, which Liisa has described through reported speech and action, as “being frightened”. It seems to be the turn-initial että which marks the turn as an interpretation of earlier speech: if Tyyne had said se pelästy tosissaan niin, ‘he really was so frightened’ the interpretation would be that she is reporting her own observations of the situation, in the same way as Keijo is doing in line 16. The function of the particle että, together with the backwards-connecting adverb tosissaan ‘really’ and the anaphoric demonstrative niin ‘so’, is to mark the relation of the current turn to the previous turn and to guide the recipients in taking it as a re-wording of something which the previous speaker has said, not as the current speaker’s own take on the situation. It tells the recipients how to contextualize Tyyne’s turn. As Tyyne is giving a candidate understanding of Liisa’s story, she sequentially projects Liisa to either confirm or repair it. Thus että is here a metacommunicative element, which on the one hand connects the turn backwards by marking it as a reactive turn, and makes the story-teller, Liisa, the principal (Goffman 1981; see above) of this reactive turn. On the other hand, että has a forward-projecting function: because Liisa is the principal of the turn Tyyne is animating, the relevant next action in the conversation is Liisa’s confirmation or repair of this turn. In lines 21–22 Liisa begins to act in the way she is projected to: she confirms Tyyne’s interpretation with the response particle nii and by repeating Tyyne’s wording of the situation, se todella pelästy ‘he really was frightened’. Tyyne’s turn forms an important part of the story-telling sequence which the participants are formulating together. Tyyne’s contribution is to explicate in one word, pelästy ‘was frightened’, the situation about which Liisa has given a lengthy description. After Tyyne’s contribution, the participants can go on discussing this situation by using her words. However, as a markedly reactive turn, Tyyne’s turn
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
here does not initiate a new sequence, and in fact, että-initiated turns in general are not sequence-initiating. The että-initiated turns seem to project backwards. Thus, even if, in terms of the on-going activity, they are not subordinated, they could be seen as not being independent either. The että-initiated turns perform types of actions (here, a candidate interpretation of a story) at a sequential point where such an action is relevant (here, after the conclusion of a story). In this section of the paper, we have seen that the turn-initial että, like the ‘complementizer’ uses of että, ties its clause to preceding talk, making relevant some prior talk, and indexing that the turn it initiates is a paraphrase of that prior talk. Both uses of että have the function of regulating the participant roles in interaction. In the initial particle use, että carries alone the regulating function. In terms of content, what follows the particle että is a topical continuation of what has been said just prior. Both project backward and move forward the sequence of which they are part. 5. The turn-final että So far, we have been concerned with uses of että as a conjunction and as turn/utterance-initial particle. However, että does not always function as a link between clauses or turns and thus project continuation by the same speaker (see also Koivisto 2006; in preparation).That is, että can also occur as the last element in a turn. In these cases, että can be characterized as “final” in two ways: it occurs at the end of a prosodic unit (cf. Hakulinen 1989: 117–118; Seppänen & Laury 2007: 556, see also Example 1) and also at the end of the whole turn, functioning as a final particle (cf. Mulder & Thompson 2008 on final but)9. By turn-final we mean that että can form a possible point for turn-transition. In these cases että typically occurs with syntactic constructions which do not include complement-taking predicates or other complement-taking constructions. The turns ending with että also perform recognizable actions in recurrent sequential environments. Prosodically, however, these turns do not always sound “final” – at least not in terms of intonation. Että-final turns that are followed by turn transition may have either slightly falling (marked with ;), falling (marked with .) or slightly rising intonation (marked with ?,). This variation indicates that final pitch is not a distinctive feature in terms of turn-holding and turn-yielding. This observation is consistent with 9. In this article, we are using the term “final particle” instead of “sentence final particle” (see, e.g. Okamoto 1995; Okamoto & Ono 2008). With “final particle” we refer to particles that occur in turn-final (or, prosodic unit -final) position. Hence, we consider utterances and turns to be the basic units of conversational talk, and determine “finality” with respect to the interactional factors. (Cf. Mulder & Thompson 2008.)
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
earlier studies done on final or stand-alone conjunctions in English (see Local & Kelly 1986: 195–196; Local & Walker 2005: 126). However, certain phonetic features often occur with final conjunctions, such as creak, breathiness, whisper and audible out-breath. Ogden (2004) showed that in Finnish, the above-mentioned features (i.e. non-modal voice quality) indicate transition relevance. Interestingly, he also notes that this applies to turn-final conjunctions as well (ibid. 47–51; see also Ogden 2001: 143). The following example illustrates the use of että at the end of a possibly complete turn. In this case, the same speaker continues after a pause. However, the analysis of the syntactic structure of the utterance will show that it does not project a complement clause to follow. Also in terms of the sequential placement in the on-going action, the turn can be analyzed as possibly complete. Prosodically, however, the case is more complex. The example comes from a conversation between a female hairdresser and her male client. In the beginning of the sequence, the hairdresser starts a new topic by asking a question (“topic proffer”, see e.g. Schegloff 2007: 167–180). She asks whether the client is planning to attend the local rock festival (line 2).
(4) [Kotus, Hairdressers’, Eastern Finland T1208] ((H = hairdresser, C = client, both in their mid-twenties))
01
((43 sec))
02 H:
meinasitko Ilosaarirok↑kiim mennä? be.going.to-2sg-q event.name-ill go-inf are you going to go to the Ilosaari rock festival?
03 C:→ .mt (.) no en oov vielä suunni#tellu että#?, ptc neg-1sg be yet plan-p.pple että .mt (.) well I haven’t planned it yet että?, 04
(1.4)
05 C:
°kyllähän° siellä tietysti olis iham (0.2) ptc-clt dem.adv of.course be-cond fairly surely there would be of course fairly (0.2)
06
hyviäki (0.4) esiintyjiä. good-pl-cli performer-pl-prt good (0.4) performers too.
07
(1.0)
08 H:
mie taas #en ikinä# niistä esiintyjistä 1sg again neg-1sg ever 3pl-ela performer-pl-ela I for my part don’t ever care about those performers
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
09
niiv välitä mut siel so care but dem.adv that much but I think that there has always
10
[on miu]sta hirmu hyvä me:ininki=ai[na ollu.] be-3 1sg-ela terribly good atmosphere always be-p.pple been a terribly good atmosphere = always there.
11 C:
[mm. ] ptc well yes it has.
[no o:n. ] ptc be-3
In line 3, the client provides an että-final answer to the hairdresser’s question. The turn seems syntactically incomplete: the transitive verb suunnitella (‘to plan’) occurs without an object. But with respect to the turn’s sequential status as an answer to a question, the turn is complete: it relies heavily on the syntactic structure of the preceding question. In addition, the predicate verb suunnitella ‘plan’ is not a typical CTP – at least it does not occur in any of the complementizer-type että-instances of our data. Thus, the syntactic-sequential analysis shows that että does not function as a sign of an inferred complement clause and in this way, the että-final clause does not (necessarily) project more to come. However, in terms of the ongoing action, the turn’s completeness is not crystal clear. The turn functions as a negative answer to a question that is proffering a new topic. In spite of its negative formulation, the answer leaves the stance towards the question somewhat open: the client has not yet made plans regarding the rock festival. This openness (he doesn’t actually say yes or no) in the content of the answer may orient the hairdresser to expect an elaboration, even if it is not syntactically projected. After the että-final answer, there is relatively long pause (line 4). According to our interpretation, että here creates a place for turn transition. That is, että works as a particle that guides the hairdresser to infer that the client does not really have much to say on the topic and in this way, displays readiness to give up the turn. There is also prosodic evidence to support this analysis: although the turn has a slightly rising intonation, it also has some turn-final creak, which indicates transition relevance (Ogden 2001, 2004). 10 When the hairdresser remains silent, the client is free to go on (cf. Sacks, Schegloff & Jefferson 1974: 704 on turn-taking 10. The slightly rising intonation is not uncommon in että-final turns. It is unclear what it means, though: there is very little research on conversational prosody in Finnish. Routarinne (2003) shows that high final rise can be used to mark structural junctures in narratives. In this case it projects more talk but also invites some display of recipiency. Further, it can be used in non-final list-items (ibid. 177). Ogden (2004: 56), on the other hand, has noticed that rising intonation may co-occur with creak, indicating transition relevance. He concludes that intonation and voice quality are potentially separate systems in Finnish, serving different functions (ibid. 57).
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
rules). He does so by elaborating his answer in lines 5–6. This elaboration presents an argument for the positive alternative (going to the rock festival), but keeps it on a general level (kyllähän, tietysti ‘surely’, ‘of course’). By making this concession, the client orients to the function of the question as a topic-proffer and also to his role as a participant who is being invited to develop the topic further. However, the elaboration constitutes a new action, not a projected continuation: the continuation does not fit to the preceding utterance syntactically (cf. Auer 1992: 48; 1996: 60; Ford, Fox & Thompson 2002; cf. Mulder & Thompson 2008: 184–185). In other words, the continuation on lines 5–6 cannot be seen as grammatically tied to the että-final clause at line 3. Instead, in terms of both turn transition and sequential placement, että creates a place for negotiation: who will continue and in what direction (cf. Jefferson 1983). The previous example showed that the turnfinal että can be used to leave an implication of the turn unarticulated for the recipient to infer. In fact, the inference-inviting character seems to be typical of final particles which grammaticize from complementizers or conjunctions in general (see Mulder & Thompson 2008: 186 for final but; Koivisto in preparation for Finnish että (‘that/so’), ja ‘and’ and mutta ‘but’ as final particles). The actual implication of the final että can be understood in relation to the function of the turn-initial että. As we have seen, both the initial and the complementizer use of että mark the utterance that follows as a paraphrase, summary, or an upshot of something previously said, while the final että projects an upshot of the turn but leaves it to inference. The previous material in the turn provides the basis for inference, just as in the initial and complementizer uses of että, the prior talk forms the basis for the interpretation of what follows että. This shows all three uses of että are related. The next example illustrates this function of the final että. In this case, the recipient also takes the next turn. Tero and Mikko are talking about some practicalities concerning their participation in a street basketball tournament. Prior to this extract, Mikko has asked Tero if there is a need for similar T-shirts for the team. Tero has told him that the team members can wear T-shirts of similar colour or alternatively, play without shirts. Then he brings up a possible problem: the team members don’t necessarily have similar shirts (lines 5–6).
(5) [Että115 Sg143 B03]
01 Tero: niij jos ne t:oiset pelaa sitten; .hh ilman yeah if the others play then; .hh without 02
paitoja. shirts.
03
(0.2)
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
04 Tero: ja toiset pelaa paidan kaa mutta; .hhh and other-pl play shirt-gen with but and some play with a shirt but; .hhh 05
meil ei sit kyllä varmaan yhtenäistä 1pl-ade neg then ptc probably similar-prt we don’t then probably have a similar shirt
06
paitaa oo kellää. shirt-prt be anyone.ade any (of us).
07
(0.6)
08 Mikko: [(no-) ptc well 09 Tero: [tai jotaim punasta ehkä vois or something-acc red-prt maybe can-cond or maybe we could take something red 10
ottaa mukaan. take along with us.
11
->onks sulla punasia; teepaitoja. be-q-clt 2sg-ade red-pl-prt T-shirt-pl-prt do you have red; T-shirts.
12
(0.2)
13 Mikko:=>n:o mull_ on yks semmonen punaraidallinen ptc 1sg-ade be one dem.adj red-stripe-adj w:ell I have one like with red stripes 14
ainaki se on aika punanen että?, että at.least 3sg be pretty red at least it is pretty red että?,
15 Tero: nii:n >kato ku< [mul o ainaki teepaita ptc ptc when 1sg-ade be at.least T-shirt Well, look, because I have a T-shirt that’s 16 Mikko: [tse 17 Tero: punane ja; tolla on kans joku pelipaita red and dem-ade be also some game-shirt red and; that (guy) also has some team shirt
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
18
punanen tolla; red dem-ade that’s red that (guy),
19
(0.2)
20 Mikko: j:oo. ptc yeah. In lines 9–10, Tero suggests that the team members could bring something red with them. Then he asks whether Mikko has red T-shirts (line 11). In comparison to the topic-proffer question about the rock concert in the previous example, this question seems to be a genuine request for information. Syntactically, it is a polar question which projects either an affirmative or a negative answer as a next relevant action. However, Mikko provides an että-final answer which takes a form of two full clauses (lines 13–14) (cf. Hakulinen 2001). Again, the syntax of the ettäfinal turn does not project a grammatical ‘complement’ to follow; rather että functions as a particle that guides the interpretation of the turn. In his answer, Mikko states that he has a shirt with red stripes which is aika punanen ‘pretty red’. This is not an unambiguously affirmative or negative answer but rather falls between the two polarities. This is actually typical of että-final answers in general. When occurring at the end of an answer, että calls for the recipient’s understanding for the fact that the speaker is unable to provide a straightforward answer. Moreover, että invites the recipient to infer the relevance of the answer in its context on the basis of what has been said. In Example (5), että seems to be exposing the answer to the recipient’s judgment: it is up to Tero to decide whether the described shirt with red stripes qualifies as a red shirt. That is, the final että makes the status of the turn as a positive answer to the question negotiable and leaves the responsibility of its treatment to the recipient. What is interesting is that the turn carries no prosodic or phonetic signals for transition relevance. However, the recipient treats the turn as complete by taking the turn smoothly. In both of the previous examples, the final että does not grammatically project a complement clause to follow but rather works as a particle that leaves some implication of the turn to inference. In terms of the ongoing action, the final että guides the interpretation of the turn and creates expectations for the next relevant action. The two previous examples were representative of a typical sequential context for että-final turns, answers to questions. In these cases, it seems clear that the final että does not have anything to do with syntactic subordination. However, through the analysis of the next example, we will consider the possibility of interpreting the että-final turn as subordinate in terms of the on-going action and sequential development. In this example, the että-final turn links back to previous context by
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
providing an explanation for something said in the beginning of the sequence. The contribution of the final että is to mark this connection and thereby invoke the prior context (on backward linking as a property of final particles in general, see Koivisto in preparation). That is, että ties its turn (and its interpretation) to some prior activity that has been going on earlier in the sequence and indexes the turn’s relevance to it (cf. Raymond 2004: 204 on stand-alone so). In this example, Ella has called her friend Aune to ask for her help in organizing a coffee serving after a church concert on Saturday evening (see lines 1–7).
(6) [Että62 Sg142 B06]
01 Ella: .mthHH mut ↑tiäksää mitäh::. [kunm- mä kyselisin but you know what::. I would ask 02 Aune: [°ni°, what 03 Ella:
sulta nyt semmosta asiaa ettäh; .hh että olisiksä you such a thing that; that would you have been
04
pystyny auttamaan meittiä tommosessa kun ens, able to help us in such a thing as next
05
lauantai-iltana kirkon kesäjuhlien yhteydessä Saturday evening at the church’s summer festival
06
on semmoset, (.) .hhh iltakonsertin jälkeen there’s such, (.) after the evening concert
07
Pihatuvalla ↓kah:vit.h at Pihatupa a coffee serving.
08 Aune: no kun: mä: (.) tuossa (0.2) kuulin noin: tolta well I: just heard from 09
P:irjetalta että olis: olis tehtaviä hommia Pirjetta that there would have been assignments
10
ollu mut mä: en oo p:aikalla mää< m- lähen jobs but I won’t be around I will leave for a
11
piänelle ma:t[kalle. little trip.
12 Ella: 13
[↑soittiks Pirjetta ↑did Pirjetta
£j(h)o[(h) hhh] heh heh£ alr(h)eady call you heh heh ((side sequence omitted))
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
[ai se:m↑mosii. oh things like that.
38 Ella: 39
just juu. nii. nii. tää on niin semmonen (.) that’s right. right. right. this is such a
40
laajah, [.hh laaja-alanen asia £he he£] exten- extensive issue [niin; (on). mone]n:laista. yes; (it is). all kinds of things.
41 Aune: 42
et mul on tosiaan pieni, so I indeed have a little,
43
(0.3)
44 Ella:
ai sä [meet matkalle.] oh you are leaving for a trip.
45 Aune: 46 Ella: 47 Aune:
[piäni a little
rei:]ssuh.= trip.
= sehän on hauskaa. ohh how nice. [joo. yeah.
48 Aune:→#en mää noin tota:# (0.8) pitkään oo pois. neg-1sg 1sg ptc ptc long be away I won’t be away for a long time. 49
=mut oon kumminki (noi) viikol#lopun# sitte but be-1sg however those week-end-acc then =but I will be however
50
↓#poi[:s# että?, away että away for the weekend että?,
51 Ella:
[↑ju:st ↓juu.= I see.
52 Aune: =mm-m.= 52 Ella:
=.hh no sehän on mukava virkistävä kun on well that’s nice refreshing that you have
53
tämmöneh, (0.5) tämmö[nen ede]ssä. this kind, (0.5) this kind of thing ahead.
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
54 Aune:
[ku en mä o] I haven’t been
55 Aune: yhtään (noita) missään# (0.5) missään at all anywhere been anywhere in fact. 56
>o ollukka< mull_oli >niinku< lapsia täss#ä# (0.2) I had like children here that I took care
57
hoidossa kans kesä, (.) kesäloman aikana °ja°.h of also during summer, (.) summer vacation and.
In response to the request, Aune says that she has already heard about the work offer (lines 8–9). In the same turn, she also reports that she won’t be available as she is getting away for a “little trip”. This report can be seen to function as a rejection, which is a dispreferred response (Drew 1984). However, Ella doesn’t address this issue at this point but asks – with surprise in her voice – if Pirjetta (a mutual acquaintance) has already called Aune. This question launches a sequence in which the interactants solve some misunderstandings regarding the information Aune has received from other people (data not shown). After the closure of this side sequence, Aune gets back to her announcement about the trip (et mul on tosiaan pieni reissu ‘so I indeed have a little trip’, lines 42, 45), which was earlier ignored. The recipient, Ella, now responds counter to expectation by making a positive evaluation regarding the matter (line 46). After this, Aune proceeds to her että-final turn (lines 48–50). In her two-clause turn, Aune begins by stating that she won’t be away for a long time and thereby expresses a concession regarding the length of the trip. The second, että-final, clause is prefaced with a constrastive particle mut (‘but’) and includes a contrastive connective kumminkin (‘however’). With these contrastive markings Aune foregrounds the upcoming utterance and marks it as a return to the central issue from her point of view (mut oon kuitenkin (noi) viikollopun sitte pois että ‘but I will be however away for the weekend so’) (cf. Schiffrin 1987: 165–177; see also Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson 2005 on retractions and revisions of an initial statement). In the light of the beginning of the whole extract, the turn is hearable as a renewed (and specified) account for rejecting the request. By referring to the exact time of her absence, the weekend, Aune implies that she won’t be available on Saturday (the date of the event). We claim that the että particle invites the recipient to interpret the turn as an account for Aune not being able to accept the offered assignment11.
11. The particle sitte (‘thus’) as a marker of inference reinforces this function: it also indicates that the explanation relates to something said earlier (see, e.g. ISK: 794; Halonen 2005).
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
By repeating that she will be absent at the time of the event, Aune’s turn links back to her earlier turn at lines 8–11. The function of the final että is to invite the recipient to treat the turn as a renewed account for that earlier turn. In this way the että-final turn invokes the previous rejection that was not yet acknowledged by Ella and implies readiness to bring the request–rejection sequence to a close (cf. Raymond 2004 on stand-alone so). Like the other two types of että discussed above, this että thus also links to an earlier utterance. By using the final particle että, Aune calls for some display of understanding from Ella so that the delicate topic can be closed down. That is what indeed seems to happen. Ella claims understanding at line 51 with the particles just juu, which may serve to acknowledge the issue of unavailability. After that, however, Ella turns to evaluate Aune’s holiday plans in general. In fact, the actual rejection – the dispreferred response – does not get addressed explicitly at any point of the conversation. But what can we say about the question of subordination? Our examples of the use of the particle että have demonstrated that in conversational talk, että does not function as a complementizer but has multiple tasks in different syntactic positions (see also Seppänen & Laury 2007; Laury & Seppänen 2008; cf. Keevallik 2008 on the Estonian et). However, we are suggesting that some että-final turns could be interpreted as being in the service of and dependent on some ‘main’ activity. In Example (6), the main activity (or at least the “original” activity) of the expanded sequence is the request and its rejection. When we examine the että-final turn in relation to this main activity, it is hearable as an account for the earlier dispreferred response as well as a pursuit of recognition of the earlier rejection of the request. Thus, we can say that the conversational status of the että-final turn as an account is dependent on this previous rejection. The implication of että in Example (6) is something like ‘take this (or treat this) as a reason for not being able to grant your request’. Thus the että-final turn invokes the prior context. It seems clear that in certain backward-connecting activities (namely, in explanations or justifications) että has a capacity of indicating the relevance of the turn to some earlier conversational action that has not yet been satisfactorily dealt with. It is possible to say, then, that in this kind of case, että subordinates the turn to something that has an ongoing relevance for the speaker – thus, to the main activity (cf. Raymond 2004). In this section of the paper we have seen that että can also function as a turnfinal particle, attached to turns that are syntactically complete. In these cases että does not project a subordinate clause to follow but rather implies readiness to relinquish speakership to the recipient. This job is done by projecting an unstated upshot of the turn and leaving it to the recipient to infer. When occurring at the end of an answer directly following the question, että calls for the recipient’s understanding of the fact that the speaker is unable to provide an expected answer. Että-final turn can also provide an account for an earlier action in the sequence
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
and thereby invoke the previous context. The function of the final että in this sequential context is to alert the recipient to the fact that this turn is related to some previous conversational action. In all contexts, final että is used to imply a certain kind of next relevant action from the recipient. In that sense, it functions metacommunicatively, regulating the interaction by managing the participant framework and turntaking, just like the other uses of että discussed in the two preceding sections of the article. 6. Discussion We hope to have shown that että appears in three distinct syntactic positions, as a complementizer within an utterance at the end of a projective phrase or CTP, as an initial particle in an utterance, and as a final particle, and that in all three uses, it functions to organize the participation framework of the conversation. In all three uses, some prior talk is being indexed as relevant. What follows että is a paraphrase, summary, or upshot of that prior talk; in its final use, the upshot of the prior talk is left for the recipient to infer. When että occurs with a projective CTP-phrase, the phrase serves as an index to what prior talk is being made relevant. In its initial particle use, että functions alone to make the prior talk relevant. In its final use, the implied upshot is to be made on the basis of the material provided in the että-final turn. Syntactically, we suggest, että is not a subordinator. In the initial use, there is no clause preceding että that could function as its main clause, while in the final use, there is no clause following että which could be subordinate to the prior clause; furthermore, the utterance preceding final että often is not a CTP or other type of construction which would syntactically project an että-complement. We argued here that even in its use with a CTP, the talk following että is not syntactically subordinate to the CTP. The most frequent types of CTP-phrases have been grammaticized or particle-ized into projective phrases, or else the CTP contains a pronominal element which functions as its complement. Furthermore, what follows että is often not clausal in nature. It is also clear that clauses (or longer stretches of talk) following että are not subordinate on the level of action, just as they are not subordinate syntactically. The talk following että is regularly oriented to by the participants on the level of content, and it carries forward the main action they are engaged in. It is what the other participants respond to, as in Example (1), or it may constitute a candidate understanding of what has been said just prior as in Example 3. However, and differing from Thompson (2002) and Langacker (2008), we suggest that in our data, the profile of the CTP is not overriden by what follows it. While CTPs containing
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
että, or the particle että by itself, are not subordinating, neither are they, in our view, subordinate themselves in terms of action; they manage interaction on the strategic level, by regulating the participant framework of the conversation (for example, by relegating partial responsibility for what is being said to a person who is not present in the conversation, as in Example 2), and by regulating turntaking by projecting forward to more talk to come, as in Examples 1, 2, and 3, and by indexing the type of upcoming talk as a paraphrase, summary or candidate understanding of prior talk. And the metalinguistic action performed by them is also oriented to by the participants (see, for example, the analysis of Examples 3 and 6. For these reasons, we suggest that the CTP (or, more exactly, formulaic phrases) containing että, as well as the particle uses of että, implement independent actions in service of the main activity performed. We have also shown that in certain cases in our data, the utterances preceding final että, while not syntactically subordinate in any sense, can be considered ‘subordinate’ to a prior action in terms of sequential structure. 7. Conclusions In this article, we have examined the use of the Finnish että as a linker (‘complementizer’) within an utterance and as an initial and final particle. We have suggested that in the utterance-internal use, the CTP (formulaic phrase) and the segment of talk following että turn out not to be subordinate to one another either syntactically or actionally. Instead, we suggest that the formulaic phrase containing että, as well as the particle uses of että, implement independent actions in service of the main action: they function metacommunicatively, managing the talk strategically by regulating the participant framework and the turntaking, and can also be shown to be oriented to by the participants, while the talk following että is oriented to by the participants in terms of the content and the main action. However, when että is not part of a CTP, but functions as a turn-final particle, the turn in which it appears, although syntactically independent, can be seen as a dependent activity from the perspective of some previous action. References Auer, Peter. 1992. “The Neverending Sentence: Rightward Expansion in Spoken Language”. In Studies in spoken languages: English, German, Finno-Ugric Miklós Kontra and Tamás Váradi (eds), 41–59. Budabest: Linguistics Institute, Hungarian Academy of Sciences. Auer, Peter. 2005. “Projection in interaction and projection in grammar.” Text 25 (1): 7–36.
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen Bakhtin, M.M. 1987 [1953]. “The problem of speech genres”. In Speech Genres and Other Late Essays, C. Emerson and M. Holquist (eds), 60–102. Austin TX: University of Texas Press. Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth and Thompson, Sandra A. 2005. “A linguistic practice for retracting overstatements: concessive repair.” In Syntax and lexis in conversation, Auli Hakulinen and Margret Selting (eds), 257–288. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Cristofaro, Sonia. 2003. Subordination. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Drew, Paul. 1984. “Speakers’ reportings in invitation sequences.” In Structures of social action: studies in conversation analysis, J. M. Atkinson and John Heritage (eds), 129–151. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ford, Cecilia, Fox, Barbara and Thompson, Sandra A. 2002. “Constituency and the grammar of turn increments”. In The language of turn and sequence, Cecilia Ford, Barbara Fox and Sandra Thompson (eds), 14–38. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Goffman, Erving. 1981. Forms of Talk. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Goodwin, Charles. 1979. “The interactive construction of a sentence in natural conversation.” In Everyday Language: Studies in Ethnomethodology, George Psathas (ed.), 97–121. New York: Erlbaum. Goodwin, Charles. 1981. Conversational Organization: Interaction between Speakers and Hearers. New York: Academic Press. Goodwin, Charles. 1984. “Notes on story structure and the organization of participation.” In Structures of Social Action: Studies in Conversation Analysis, J. M. Atkinson and John Heritage (eds), 225–246. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Goodwin, Charles and Goodwin, Marjorie H. 1990. “Context, activity and participation.” In The contextualization of language, Peter Auer and Aldo di Luzo (eds), 77–99. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Haiman, John and Thompson, Sandra A. 1984. “‘Subordination’ in Universal Grammar.” In Proceedings of the Tenth Annual Meeting of the Berkeley Linguistics Society, Claudia Brugmann and Monica Macauley (eds), 510–523. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hakulinen, Auli. 1989. “Partikkelit ja muut kiteymät vuoroissa.” In Suomalaisen keskustelun keinoja I, Auli Hakulinen (ed.), 115–117. Kieli 4. Helsinki: Department of Finnish, University of Helsinki. Hakulinen, Auli. 2001. “Minimal and non-minimal answers to yes-no questions.” Pragmatics 11, 1–16. Halonen, Mia. 2005. “Mä en sit siihe sanonu mitää. Raportit sanomatta jättämisestä ja evidentiaalinen partikkeli sit(te(n)) keskustelun kertomuksissa.” Virittäjä 109: 272–298. Hopper, Paul. 2001. “Grammatical constructions and their discourse origins. Prototype or family resemblance?” In Applied Cognitive Linguistics I: Theory and Language Acquisition, Martin Pütz, Susanne Niemeier and René Dirven (eds), 109–130. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Hopper, Paul. 2004. “The openness of grammatical constructions”. Chicago Linguistic Society 40, 239–256. Hopper, Paul and Thompson, Sandra A. 2008. “Projectability and clause combining in interaction.” In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the multifunctionality of conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), 99–123. Amsterdam: Benjamins. ISK = Hakulinen, Auli, Vilkuna, Maria, Korhonen, Riitta, Koivisto, Vesa, Heinonen, Tarja Riitta, Alho, Irja. 2004. Iso suomen kielioppi. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Jefferson, Gail. 1983. “On a failed hypothesis: ‘conjunctionals’ as overlap-vulnerable”. Tilburg papers in language and literature 28. Tilburg: Tilburg University.
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses Keevallik, Leelo. 2008. “Conjunction and sequenced actions: The Estonian complementizer and evidential particle et.” In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the multifunctionality of conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), Amsterdam: Benjamins. Koivisto, Aino. 2006. Että-loppuiset vuorot keskustelussa. [Turns ending with että in conversation.] Unpublished MA thesis, Department of Finnish, University of Helsinki. Koivisto, Aino. (In preparation). Konjunktiot loppuasemaisina: jatkeita vai vuoronloppuisia partikkeleita. [Conjunctions in Final Position: continuers or turn-final particles?] Ph.D. thesis, Department of Finnish, University of Helsinki. Kärkkäinen, Elise. 2004. Epistemic Stance in English Conversation: A Description of its Interactional Functions, with a Focus on I Think. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Laitinen, Lea. 2005. “Hän, the third speech act pronoun.” In Minimal reference in Finnic: The use and interpretation of pronouns in Finnish and Estonian discourse, Ritva Laury (ed.), 75–106. Studia Fennica Linguistica 12. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Langacker, Ronald. 1991. Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, vol. 2. Descriptive application. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, Ronald. 2008. “Subordination in cognitive grammar.” In Asymmetric Events, Barbara Lewandowska-Tomaszczyk (ed.), 137–149. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Laury, Ritva. 2006. “On Subordination, Finnish-style: Questioning the category of finite clausal complements in spoken Finnish.” In A Man of Measure. Festschrift in Honour of Fred Karlsson on his 60th Birthday, Mickael Suominen, Antti Arppe, Anu Airola, Orvokki Heinämäki, Matti Miestamo, Urho Määttä, Jussi Niemi, Kari K. Pitkänen and Kaius Sinnemäki (eds), 310–321. Turku: The Linguistic Association of Finland. Laury, Ritva and Seppänen, Eeva-Leena. 2008. “Clause combining, interaction, evidentiality, participation structure and the particle-conjunction continuum.” In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the multifunctionality of conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), 153–178. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Leino, Jaakko. 1999. “Mitä tarkoittaa se, että? Se-pronominista subjektina ja objektina toimivan että-lauseen yhteydessä.” [What does se, että mean? About the pronoun se in connection with että-clauses functioning as subjects and objects.] Virittäjä 103: 27–51. Lerner, Gene H. and Kitzinger, Celia. 2007. “Extraction and aggregation in the repair of individual and collective self-reference.” Discourse Studies 9 (4): 526–557. Lindén, Eeva. 1957. “Eräistä sivulauseattribuuteista.” Virittäjä 61: 102–111. Local, John and Kelly, John. 1986. “Projection and ‘silences’: Notes on phonetic and conversational structure.” Human studies 9: 185–204. Local, John and Walker, Gareth. 2005. “Methodological imperatives for investigating the phonetic organization and phonological structures of spontaneous speech”. Phonetica 62: 120–130. Matthiessen, Christian and Thompson, Sandra A. 1988. “The structure of discourse and ‘subordination’.” In Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse, John Haiman and Sandra.A. Thompson (eds), 275–329, Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Mulder, Jean andThompson, Sandra.A. 2008. “The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation.” In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the multifunctionality of conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), 179–204. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Munro, Pamela.1982. “On the transitivity of ‘say’ verbs.” In Studies in Transitivity, Paul Hopper and Sandra A. Thompson (eds). 301–318, New York: Academic Press. Ogden, Richard. 2001. “Turn transition, creak and glottal stop in Finnish talk-in-interaction”. Journal of the International Phonetic Association 31: 139–152.
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen Ogden, Richard. 2004. “Non-modal voice quality and turn-taking in Finnish”. In Sound Patterns in Interaction, Elizabeth Couper-Kuhlen and Cecilia E. Ford (eds), 29–62. Amsterdam: John Benjamins, Okamoto, Shigeko. 1995. “Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese”. In Essays in semantics and pragmatics in honor of Charles J. Fillmore, Masayoshi Shibatani and Sandra A.Thompson (eds) s. 219–249. Amsterdam: John Benjamis. Okamoto, Shigeko and Ono, Tsuyoshi. 2008. “Quotative tte in Japanese. Its multifaceted functions and degrees of ‘subordination.’ In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the multifunctionality of conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), 205–230. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Östman, Jan-Ola. 1981. You know: A Discourse-Functional Approach. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Raussi, Anne. 1992. Et(tä)-partikkelilla alkavat lausumat keskustelussa. Unpublished MA thesis, Department of Finnish, University of Helsinki. Raymond, Geoffrey. 2004. “Prompting Action: The Stand-Alone “So” in Ordinary Conversation.” Research on Language and Social Interaction 37: 185–218. Routarinne, Sara. 2003. Tytöt äänessä. Parenteesit ja nouseva sävelkulku kertojien vuorovaikutuskeinoina. [Girls Talking. Parentheses and Rising Intonation as Narrator’s Interactional Devices]. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Routarinne, Sara. 2005. “Keskustelupuheen johtolauseiden kielioppia.” [On the grammar of matrix clauses in conversation.] In Referointi ja moniäänisyys, Markku Haakana and Jyrki Kalliokoski (eds), 83–113. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Sacks, Harvey. 1974. “An analysis of the course of a joke’s telling in conversation.” In Explorations in the ethnography of speaking, R. Bauman and Joel Sherzer (eds), 337–353. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sacks, Harvey. [1971] 1992. Lectures on Conversation. Volume II. Ed. by Gail Jefferson. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Sacks, Harvey, Schegloff, Emanuel and Jefferson, Gail. 1974. “A simplest systematic for the organization of turn-taking in conversation.” Language 50: 696–735. Schegloff, Emanuel A. 1982. “Discourse as an interactional achievement: some uses of ‘uh huh’ and other things that come between sentences.” In Analyzing discourse: text and talk, Deborah Tannen (ed.), 71–93. Georgetown: Georgetown University Press. Schegloff, Emanuel. 2007. Sequence organization in interaction. A primer in conversation analysis vol. 1. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Scheibman, Joanne. 2002. Point of View and Grammar. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Schiffrin, Deborah. 1987. Discourse Markers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Seppänen, Eeva-Leena. 1996. “Ways of referring to a knowing co-participant in Finnish conversation.” In SKY 1996. Yearbook of the Linguistic Associastion in Finland, Timo Haukioja, Marja-Liisa Helasvuo and Elise Kärkkäinen (eds), 135–176. Helsinki: The Linguistic Association of Finland. Seppänen, Eeva-Leena. 1998. Läsnäolon pronominit. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Seppänen, Eeva-Leena and Laury, Ritva. 2007. “Complement clauses as turn continuations: the Finnish että-clause.” Pragmatics 17 (4) 553–572. Shore, Susanna. 1986. Onko suomessa passiivia. Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura. Tannen, Deborah. 2007. Talking Voices: Repetition, Dialogue and Imagery in Conversational Discourse. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Thompson, Sandra A. 2002. “‘Object complements’ and conversation: towards a realistic account.” Studies in Language 26 (1): 125–164.
Syntactic and actional characteristics of Finnish että-clauses
Appendix 1 Transcription symbols . , ; ?, ? ↑ ↓ en : [ ] (.) (0.5) > < < > en< a- = #e# °en° hh .hh
falling intonation level intonation slightly falling intonation slightly rising intonation rising intonation rise in pitch fall in pitch emphasis indicated by underlining lengthening of a sound utterances starting simultaneously point where overlapping talk stops micropause, less than 0.2 seconds silences timed in tenths of a second talk inside is at a faster pace than the surrounding talk talk inside is at a slower pace than the surrounding talk glottal stop cut off “latching”, i.e. no silence between two adjacent utterances creaky voice talk inside is more quietly than the surrounding talk audible exhalation audible inhalation
Appendix 2 Grammatical glosses acc ade adj adv all clt comp cond
accusative adessive adjective adverb allative clitic complementizer conditional
Aino Koivisto, Ritva Laury and Eeva-Leena Seppänen
dem det ela ess gen ill ine inf neg pass pl poss p.pple prt pst ptc q sg 1nameM
demonstrative determiner elative essive genitive illative inessive infinitive negation passive plural possessive suffix past participle partitive past particle question singular first name male
Clause-combining and the sequencing of actions Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction Simona Pekarek Doehler
University of Neuchâtel, Switzerland This paper extends recent discussions on projector constructions to another language (French), and to a further set of linguistic formats. I propose a reanalysis, in the light of the sequential organization of actions, of the je veux dire ‘I want to say’+ complement clause pattern, the il y a ‘there is’ presentational cleft and the pseudocleft construction. I first identify a recurrent constructional schema consisting of an initial ‘fragment’ (je veux dire, il y a NP or ce qui/ce que x) followed by a syntactically independent stretch of talk. I then show that these fragments routinely accomplish a specific social action, namely projecting upcoming talk. They are projector constructions by means of which speakers recipient-design their turns, helping recipients to monitor through the complex architecture of talk. I conclude by discussing implications regarding the on-line character of grammar.
1. Introduction1 In any verbal exchange system, participants use grammar as a central resource for the organization and coordination of actions (Ochs, Schegloff & Thompson, 1996). Although actions, turns at talk or turn construction units do not necessarily coincide with clauses, the clause has been shown to be a relevant unit of interaction (Thompson & Couper-Kuhlen, 2005): participants orient to clause structure for turn-taking (Sacks, Schegloff & Jefferson, 1974; Ford & Thompson, 1996; Selting, 1996, 2000), action projection (Auer, 2005; Hayashi, 2004) or utterance co-construction (Lerner, 1991). This raises a central question: how does the organization of clause-combining relate to the sequential organization of actions? 1. I am grateful to Arnulf Deppermann and the two editors of this volume, Ritva Laury and Ryoko Suzuki, for valuable feedback on an earlier version of this paper.
Simona Pekarek Doehler
In the literature, clause-combining has traditionally been framed in terms of subordination and coordination, parataxis and hypotaxis. The notion of subordination is commonly understood to refer to a type of clause-combining which involves the relative dependency of one clause with regard to another (i.e. the main or matrix clause). Clause-combining of this type is typically considered to be based on the morphosyntactic marking of the subordination relation by means e.g. of subordination marker or infinitival construction. This marking provides the basis for the identification of the main clause and the subordinate clause respectively. For some time, however, dichotomous views of clause-combining – which categorically oppose coordination and subordination, or parataxis and hypotaxis – have come under critique (Auer, 1998; Günthner, 1999; Matthiessen & Thompson, 1988, inter alia), as has the focus on morphologic marking for identifying subordination (Deulofeu, 1988; Berrendonner, 2008). The organization of actions, turns and turn constructional units (TCUs) in talk-in-interaction has been discussed along different lines: it is understood in terms of the sequential placement of units within the flow of talk. Work in conversation analysis and interactional linguistics has abundantly documented the fact that relations between parts of talk are not based on mere linguistic means, but are organized on a moment-by-moment basis along the temporal unfolding of talk; they are established as a function of the sequential positions of units of talk, and their sequential organization is based on projections emanating from one unit onto a next (Auer, 2005, 2007 and 2009; Goodwin 2002; Schegloff, 1996; Selting, 2000, inter alia). The contrast between the principles that are commonly understood to underpin the combination of basic units of grammar (i.e. clauses), on the one hand, and those that are associated with the organization of basic units of talk (i.e. actions, turns, TCUs), on the other hand, raises a twofold question: – What is the nature of the relation between clause-combining in grammar and the sequencing of actions? What is the ‘fitting’ between syntactic and actional relations? – How does this relation or ‘fitting’ play into the notion of an on-line syntax (Auer, 2005, 2007, 2009), that is: a syntax which is configured through the moment-by-moment unfolding of talk, along the temporal deployment of actions? In this paper, I wish to shed light on these questions by exploring a limited range of grammatical patterns in French talk-in-interaction. Recent accounts of clause-combining in interaction, based on German and on English data, have pointed out that the initial pieces of what is commonly considered as standard bi-clausal constructions (in particular wh-clefts, extrapositions
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
and if-then clauses) often are not part of syntactically related bi-clausal patterns (Hopper, 2001, 2004; Hopper & Thompson, 2008; Günthner, 2006; Günthner & Hopper, 2010): these wh-clauses, it-clauses and if-clauses occur in talk-in-interaction as “prefabs” that project certain types of actions; they are not linked to what follows by any morphosyntactic means; they are followed by a discourse segment that can take many different shapes, ranging from a single clause to a complex, multi-unit stretch of talk. In this paper, I wish to extend these considerations to another language, French, and to other constructions. I propose a reanalysis, in the light of the sequential organization of actions, of three frequent clause-combining patterns, namely the je veux dire ‘I want to say’ + complement pattern, the il y a ‘there is’ presentational cleft and the pseudo-cleft-construction. What grammarians consider as standard forms of these is illustrated in (1) to (3):2 (1)
(sarroy) je veux dire aussi à nos anciens (..) I want say.inf also to our elderly qu’ils seront protégés. that they will-be protected ‘I want to say to our elderly people also that they will be protected’
(2)
(L1-lae1) il y a (.) un robinet qui coule. pro.3sg.m loc has a faucet that leaks ‘there is a faucet that is leaking’
(3)
(sarroy) ce qui ronge aujourd’hui l’équilibre de la pro.3sg.n pro.rel.sbj gnaws today the equilibrium of det société française ce sont les jeunes diplômés et society French pro.3sg.n are the young certified and qualifiés qui n’ ont pas accès à l’entreprise. qualified who neg have neg access to det business ‘what gnaws today at the equilibrium of French society are the certified and qualified youth that do not have access to business’
2. Some of the characteristics of these constructions are not reflected in the gloss. While the il in il y a ‘there is’ as well as the c’ ‘it’ (combined with the copula est ‘is’) in the pseudocleft are isomorphic with the third person masculine and neuter pronouns respectively, and are rendered as such in the gloss, they in fact function within these constructions as dummy pronouns. The a in ‘il y a’ there is, although formally corresponding to the third person singular of the verb avoir ‘to have’, functions within the construction as a de-semanticized construction auxiliary (cf. Blanche-Benveniste, 1989).
Simona Pekarek Doehler
This paper sets out to empirically document the following points: – What has classically been analyzed as verb + complement clause construction (1), presentational cleft (2) and pseudocleft (3) often do not occur in talk-ininteraction as bi-clausal patterns; rather, naturally occurring talk regularly shows a configuration consisting of the initial pieces of these constructions (je veux dire, il y a NP and ce qui/ce que x – which are fragments, not full clauses) plus a syntactically unrelated (multi-unit) stretch of talk. – In all three cases, the two parts of the configuration are not syntactically combined, but are related by means of projections emanating from the initial fragment onto what follows. – In all three cases, the initial fragment functions as grammatical resource for announcing upcoming talk by the same speaker, for holding the floor and for constructing complex turns. On the basis of these observations, I argue that the je veux dire, il y a NP and ce qui x fragments recurrently found in our data are ‘projector constructions’ (see most recently Günthner & Hopper, 2010; or ‘projector phrases’, Günthner, 2006). Their nature as constructions is corroborated by the relative consistency of the lexicosyntactic and prosodic shapes of each of the three projector elements and by the recurrent interactional work they accomplish in talk-in-interaction. The data provides evidence for a sedimentation of the three constructions as discourse organizational devices. Through these points, I wish to contribute to the ongoing discussion on projections as basis for both the organization of social interaction (Auer, 2005; Hayashi, 2004, inter alia) and clause-combining (Günthner, this volume; Günthner & Hopper, 2010; Hopper & Thompson, 2008; Pekarek Doehler et al., 2010). In what follows, I first provide some background on data and on the grammatical patterns under analysis (pt. 2). I then analyze the ‘fitting together’ of stretches of talk by means of projections emanating from an initial projector construction and I show that the three constructions analyzed here are used by speakers as a resource for framing subsequent talk in a specific way and for holding the floor (pt. 3). In a second step, I focus on one further interactional job accomplished by projector constructions: they serve to organize complex turns, i.e. turns consisting of multiple TCUs (pt. 4). Results are discussed in the light of recent developments in interactional linguistics on the on-line character of grammar and the emergent nature of constructions (pts. 5 and 6). 2. Data, procedure and the grammatical patterns under discussion This paper is based on a corpus of roughly 25 hours of audio- and video-taped interactions of various kinds (focus-group discussions, TV debates, casual
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
conversation) involving adult speakers of French. Most of the data was collected in the French-speaking part of Switzerland. The data have been transcribed following transcription conventions commonly used in conversation analyses (see annex). Throughout this paper, I use the term ‘construction’ in line with usage-based approaches to grammar to refer to patterns of language use of various sizes (e.g. NP, clause, clause-combination) comprising multiple linguistic items. Constructions (see e.g. Goldberg, 1995) are (more or less) sedimented patterns for accomplishing communicative functions/actions; their meaning or function cannot be derived from the sum of their constituents; they develop and are reconfigured as a response to recurrent communicative needs. I use the term ‘configuration’ in order to account for discourse patterns that appear to be shaped ad hoc (cf. Pekarek Doehler et al., 2010), and which may include more sedimented constructions along with grammatically unspecified slots. Accordingly, I will call configurations the patterns that are initiated by projector-constructions, but whose second part may be of various morphosyntactic and lexical shape, and of various length. The following excerpts, quoted earlier, show what linguists commonly consider as standard forms of je veux dire + complement clause (1), presentational (2) and pseudocleft constructions (3) in French. (1)
(sarroy) je veux dire aussi à nos anciens (..) I want say.inf also to our elderly qu’ils seront protégés. that they will-be protected ‘I want to say to our elderly people also that they will be protected’
(2)
(L1-lae1) il y a (.) un robinet qui coule. pro.3sg.m loc has a faucet that leaks ‘there is a faucet that is leaking’
(3)
(sarroy) ce qui ronge aujourd’hui l’équilibre de la pro.3sg.n pro.rel.sbj gnaws today the equilibrium of det société française ce sont les jeunes diplômés et society French pro.3sg.n are the young certified and qualifiés qui n’ont pas accès à l’entreprise. qualified who neg have access to det business ‘what gnaws today at the equilibrium of French society are the certified and qualified youth that do not have access to business’
I will briefly discuss the characteristics of each of these constructions in order to differentiate them from the configurations analyzed here.
Simona Pekarek Doehler
Excerpt (1), taken from the Sarkozy-Royal presidential debate, shows a sentential pattern where the verbal complex vouloir dire [modal Aux + V] appears as a complement taking predicate, followed by the subordination marker que ‘that’ introducing a complement clause. Complement clauses are considered as prototypical instances of subordination (cf. Langacker, 1991: 436sq.; but see Thompson, 2002, for a critique of complement clauses as subordinate clauses). Excerpt (2), taken from two people playing a game, shows a presentational cleft (il y a-cleft in French) build according to the typical [il y a + NP + que/qui + VP] pattern, where the relative pronoun que (for object) or qui (for subject) introduces a relative clause. According to discourse-functional accounts, the il y a cleft serves the pragmatic function of introducing a brand-new referent into discourse (e.g. Lambrecht, 1994), by placing it in post-verbal position in the il y a-clause, and then predicating something about it in the subsequent clause. The construction hence allows the separation into two clauses of the two operations of (i) introducing a new referent and (ii) predicating something about it (see Lambrecht, 1994, on the importance of this pragmatic principle for French). Excerpt (3), again taken from the Sarkozy-Royal presidential debate, shows a so-called pseudocleft or wh-cleft construction, in which the wh-clause (in French typically initiated by ce que, for direct object, or ce qui, for subject) is a free relative clause (cf. Lambrecht, 2001). This part of the construction is followed by the dummy pronoun + copula combination c’est (literally: ‘it is’, or ce sont for plural), which introduces typically a NP, an infinitive clause or a finite nominal clause (ibid.). In the literature, pseudoclefts are considered as a bi-clausal constructions corresponding to the [A c’est B] scheme, where A (i.e. the wh-clause) is a presupposition, presenting an underspecified element, and B (i.e. the post-copular phrase) is presented as specifying A. Pragmatically speaking, the pseudocleft construction is said to mark the post-copular part as focal domain, thereby introducing new or noteworthy information into discourse (see again Lambrecht, 2001, for French). The three syntactic patterns illustrated in (1) to (3), which have been discussed in the literature as three strictly different constructions, both syntactically and pragmatically, share the following two properties: a. they are bi-clausal patterns in which the two clauses are grammatically combined; b. they form a prosodic and informational unit that is clearly bounded to the right by final intonation. Several studies, mainly focusing on talk-in-interaction, have put into question the characteristics quoted under points (a) and (b) (as regards pseudo-clefts, see e.g. Hopper, 2001, for English; Müller, 2006 for French; see also Jullien, 2007, for French il y a-clefts). Some studies have evidenced, both for English and for
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
German, a tendency toward grammaticization of complement taking predicateconstructions into discourse markers or markers of epistemic stance (see Thompson, 2002; Imo, 2007; see also earlier Auer, 1996 and Mulac & Thompson, 1991). Others have argued that the wh-pieces of pseudoclefts (Hopper, 2004; Hopper & Thompson, 2008; Günthner, 2006; Günthner & Hopper, 2010) sediment as discourse organizational framing devices (the latter has also been suggested for the it-parts in extrapositions, see Couper-Kuhlen & Thompson, 2008; Hopper & Thompson, 2008). What we find speakers do in our data differs quite consistently from the canonical patterns quoted in the literature and meets in several regards the evidence provided by the quoted studies. An initial illustration is provided in (4) to (6): (4)
(FNRS D)
(5)
(E 1186) il y a des trucs pro.3sg.m loc has det.indef.pl things ça nous a servi à rien, pro.3sg.n us aux serve-pp for nothing ‘there are things they did not serve us for anything’
(6)
(J 1623 sq) ce qu’ on- eu::h on: on a fait maintenant pro.3sg.n pro.rel.obj we we we aux do-pp now j’ai une classe que je suis pour la deuxième année, I have a class that I follow for the second year ‘what we did now I have a class that I teach for the second year’
je veux dire euh (...) on a toujours un accent, I want say.inf one has always an accent ‘I mean you always have an accent’
Excerpts (4) to (6) share the following features, which I will analyze in detail in the following section: a. they are not bi-clausal patterns: there is no syntactical link tying together the two parts of the patterns (compared to the canonical forms illustrated in (1) to (3), (4) shows the absence of the subordination marker que, (5) of the relative pronoun que/qui, and (6) of the dummy pronoun + copula combination c’est; in (4), though, on a toujours un accent could be seen as the complement of the verb dire; but see pt. 3.2 infra); b. the first part (in bold) is grammatically and pragmatically incomplete: it is a fragment; this part announces some action that is then accomplished or initiated by the same speaker in the second part: in (4) the first part signals that the
Simona Pekarek Doehler
speaker will say something; in (5) it signals that there are ‘things’ about which the speaker will say something; in (6) it indicates that there is a thing that ‘they did’ about which the speaker will say something; c. the second part of the quoted configurations, in turn, makes explicit, develops or specifies what is brought up in the first part – or at least starts to do so; d. what appears to be the second part may not be complete: the continuing intonation at the end of each excerpt suggest that there is more to come. We will see that this second part can take many different shapes and extend over a long stretch of talk. Excerpts (4) to (6) exemplify recurrent configurations in our data, consisting of an initial piece (a fragment) and a subsequent, syntactically autonomous stretch of talk of various length. In what follows, I will first (pt. 3) demonstrate that the two parts of these configurations, including the actions which they accomplish, are glued together not by morphosyntactic means of clause-combining, but by projections emanating from the initial fragment onto what follows. I will reconsider the initial je veux dire, il y a NP and ce qui/ce que x fragments in terms of grammatical formats (i.e. instruments for contingently building turns at talk and implementing actions; Thompson & Couper-Kuhlen, 2005: 483; see also Thompson, 2002), that routinely accomplish a specific social action, namely projecting upcoming talk: they are projector constructions. Doing the interactional job of announcing upcoming talk, they may be the emergent products of partially routinized interactional projection practices. In a second part of the analysis (pt. 4), I will zoom in onto a recurrent function of projector constructions, showing that speakers use projector construction as a resource for organizing complex turns.
3. Clause-combining, projection and the sequencing of actions 3.1
Projection
In this section I identify a recurrent compositional schema that consists of an initial projector construction followed by a syntactically unrelated stretch of talk. The parts of this compositional schema are tied together not through morphosyntactic means but through prosody and the local sequential implicativeness emanating from the first part onto the second. The term projector construction centrally builds on the notion of projection as defined in conversation analysis and interactional linguistics. According to Hayashi (2004: 1337),
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
‘projection refers to the feature of human conduct that prefigures possible trajectories of how an action (or a sequence of actions) might develop in the next moment, and which thereby allows interactants to negotiate and accomplish coordinated action in the subsequent course of interaction.’
Projection rests upon the temporal-sequential character of talk-in-interaction, i.e. its moment-by-moment unfolding across time, articulating ‘what comes first’ and ‘what comes next’, and including prospective effects from the first onto the next. This is true for grammatical projection at any unit-size: a determiner, for instance, projects a noun (or an adjective + noun combination) to come next, an if-clause projects a then-clause to come next (cf. Lerner, 1991), etc. It is also true for action projection in the sense that an action empirically and normatively projects an array of possible next actions, which can be accomplished by the next speaker, or by the same speaker: ‘An action (or action component) may project onto the timing slot immediately following it and make some next activity (component) expectable in this slot’ (Auer 2005: 8). Action-projection is related to ‘the fact that an individual action or part of it fore-shadows another’ (ibid.). In what follows, we will see how action-projection can ‘glue together’ parts of talk, in the absence of grammatical marking of the relation between these parts (for the role of projection in ‘fitting’ together paratactic configurations see Pekarek Doehler et al., 2010). 3.2
‘Je veux dire’
In our data, 60 out of the 65 occurrences of je veux dire (literally: ‘I want to say’) – in this very precise shape with the present tense and first person subject – are not followed by the subordination marker que, as exemplified in excerpt (4) quoted earlier (the remaining 5 are unclear cases, involving cut-offs and unfinished or revised utterances). By contrast, we do find consistent uses of subordination markers with other tenses than the present, as in (7) (7)
(FNRS B) je voulais dire qu’ après je vais pas les interroger. I want-imp say.inf that after I will neg them interrogate ‘I wanted to say that afterward I will not question them’
or in combination with second or third person pronoun, as in (8): (8)
(FNRS, A) ah tu veux dire que je comprendrais pas oh you want say.inf that I understand-cond neg ce que veut dire Hagège. that what wants say.inf Hagège ‘oh you mean that I would not understand what Hagège means’
Simona Pekarek Doehler
This observation suggests that there is a highly sedimented dimension to the je veux dire construction that differentiates it from other uses of the combination vouloir + dire. The je veux dire construction is in fact known to be grammaticized in French as marker of epistemic stance (a hedged performative; see Jacques, 1981). In this use, it largely speaking corresponds to the English ‘I mean’ rather than to ‘I want to say’ (see below). An illustration is provided in excerpt (9) where a group of teachers talk about plurilingual education: (9) (FNRS D) 1 N de dire que c’est dangereu:x euh:: c’est vrai que: .h to say that it’s dangerous it’s true that 2
ça peu:t euh (..) ((smack)) (.) ça peut susciter that can that can trigger
3
beaucoup de craintes, many fears
4 L
oui oui yes yes
5 N hein:? part 6 L
pourtant je veux dire ces affirmations .h circulent. however I want say.inf these declarations circulate ‘I mean these declarations are in the air’
7 N oui [oui alors euh:: j’ai- j’ai bien yes yes so I ha- I have indeed 8 L 9
[c’est bien la preuve hein? donc elles sont pas that’s the proof part so they are not construites hein? made up part
At line 1, Nadine closes a long argument in which she rejects the view that it is ‘dangerous’ to expose a child to several languages, but concedes that plurilingualism can trigger fears. Lea then introduces an objection (l. 6) which, rather than rejecting the content of Nadine’s turn, appears to reject the idea that one can simply dismiss such views: they need to be dealt with, as they do circulate in public discourse. Lea’s turn (l. 4–6) implements a yes-but turn-architecture that is typical for dispreferred responses (Pomerantz, 1984): her initial oui oui (l. 4) displays alignment with Nadine, pushing disalignment further back into the turn. This moderating effect is reinforced by the subsequent je veux dire, which functions
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
here as a marker of epistemic stance. The je veux dire not only pushes the disalignment proper (although announced by means of the pourtant ‘however’) again further back into the turn, but also displays Laura’s enunicative stance, presenting ces affirmations circulent ‘these affirmations are in the air’ as her own view rather that an absolute truth – hence its hedging effect. The grammaticization of je veux dire in French as a marker of speakers’ stance or commitment is in line with Thompson’s (2002) discussion of I mean as part of a set of epistemic phrases, including I guess and I think, which introduce an independent clause (see also Okamoto & Laury, this volume). This argument goes back to Thompson & Mulac’s (1991) analysis of English I think and I guess, which undergo grammaticization resulting in the loss of the main clause status, and become epistemic parentheticals (see also Imo, this volume, for German glauben ‘think’ as epistemic qualifier). According to Thompson and Mulac’s analysis, grammatically speaking a complex clause consisting of a main verb and a complement clause has become a single main clause, modified by an epistemic expression. This is also the case for uses of je veux dire as illustrated in (9). However, in a number of significant regards, je veux dire behaves differently than I mean, I think or I guess. For one thing, its placement is highly restricted. In our data, none of the occurrences (n = 60) of je veux dire are placed in medial position within a clause or in post-clause position. Rather, je veux dire systematically precedes a clause or any other stretch of discourse to which it is related. This is significant insofar as I mean, I guess, I think used as epistemic markers can be found in initial, medial and final position (e.g. Imo, 2005). Je veux dire seems in this regard to behave more like a discourse marker, as discourse markers usually do not occur in medial position (see e.g. Auer & Günthner, 2003, on ich meine ‘I mean’ in German). In most cases in our data je veux dire functions as a projector construction that serves to organize turns and actions. This is shown in excerpts (10) to (12): (10) (I, 257) [they are talking about two contrasting definitions of bilingualism] 1 L MAI:S moi je crois qu’ en fait s- ces deux but I think that in fact these two 2 définition:s euh > °je crois°< qu’il faut pas definitions I think that one should not 3 les:: monter l’une [contre& confront them one against 4 F
[non ? no
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5 L &[l’autre,& the other 6 N
[oui ils se rejoignent, yes they converge
7 Q
[mhm
8 L &[.h je veux dire c’est I mean it’s 9 deux sortes de bilinguismes différents? two different kinds of bilingualism 10 .h ceci dit ((turn continued)) this said (11) (I, 220) [they are talking about how to define a bilingual person] 1 N j- je suis aussi d’accord avec monsieur, I- I also agree with the gentleman 2
parce que: .h c’est clair que- (.) because it’s clear that
3
on peut avoir une aisance dans les deux lan:gues, you can be at ease in the two languages
4
= °je veux dire° eu::h (.) on peut les parler I mean you can speak them
5
régulièrement et puis être dans ce sens bilingue. regularly and then be in that sense bilingual
6
.h mais (.) il y aura toujours (..) une langue:=eh but there will always be a language
7 (.) où on arrive pas (.) à la parler that you won’t manage to speak it 8 eu:h (.) peut-être en aisance mais sans fautes, maybe easily but without mistakes 9
on arrive pas °à la parler sans fautes°. you won’t manage to speak it without mistakes
mhm
10 Q
11 N °à mon avis.° in my opinion
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
(12) (B, 405) [they are talking about conversational code-switching] 1 N alors parfois en p- (.) plein milieu d’une phrase so sometimes in the middle of a sentence 2
il change de langue. he changes the language
(1.0)
3
4
encore maintenant. still now
5 Q mhm
6 N [(à peu près.) (...) pour moi c’est incroyable. more or less to me that’s unbelievable
7 ?
[x
8 G mhm
9 P
ouais c’est que c’est c-^c’est basé sur des yeah it’s that it’s it’s based on det
10
connotations, connotations
11
=je veux dire euh: (1.4) des endroits de la maison I mean det places in the house
12
la waschküche °on disait the +laundry-room ((in German)) we used to say
13
la waschküche pour la buanderie° the +laundry-room ((in German)) for laundry-room
14
par exemple, for instance
15
(.) ben c’était pas seulement n’importe quelle well it was not just whatever
16
buanderie, c’était celle du bas. laundry-room it was the one from below
17 Q ouais yeah These three excerpts are taken from two interactions about issues of bilingualism and code-switching. In (10), Leo, who has been presented with two contrasting definitions of bilingualism, first states that it is useless to confront one definition
Simona Pekarek Doehler
against the other (l. 1–5, note that this statement is hedged by je crois ‘I believe’). After a short in-breath, Leo introduces by means of je veux dire (l. 8) an account for his statement: the definitions under discussion describe two different types of bilingualism – and this is why you cannot simply compare them. The providing of an account can be heard as an action that is related to (or even: subjacent with regard to) the preceding affirmation. Within a similar retrospective orientation, the je veux dire in (11) introduces a specification of the speaker’s preceding point, explaining what he means by ‘to feel at ease in the two languages’. The je veux dire is pronounced in noticeably lower voice, and in quick follow-up with what precedes. Interestingly, subsequently to the je veux dire-initiated piece, the speaker returns to the preceding stretch of talk and action and displays that return by means of mais ‘but’ (l. 6). Thereby the two parts surrounding the [je veux dire + clause] segment are presented as both syntactically and pragmatically continuous: ‘you can be at ease with the two languages’ ... ‘but there will always be one language in which you will not manage to talk’. Within this organizational structure, the je veux dire-introduced segment is presented as a subjacent action, inserted into the course of a main action, and clearly delimited both at its start (by means of je veux dire, l. 4) and at its end (by means of pitch drop, l. 5, see also the in-breath and the use of a discourse marker at the point of return to the main action, l. 6). In (12), finally, Paul takes the turn (l. 9) displaying his ‘on topic’ talk by means of an initial ouais and a discourse anaphoric c’est (‘this is’), and he presents his own view on the issue under discussion: code-switching triggers connotations. He then uses je veux dire (l. 11) to introduce an exemplification for that statement. Although it initiates a new TCU, it is prosodically closely tied to the preceding talk (level intonation at the end of the preceding TCU and, again ‘rush through’). By contrast to excerpts (10) and (11), where the je veux dire is followed by one single clause, ending on final pitch drop, the second piece in excerpt (12) appears to be a multi-unit stretch of talk (l. 11–16). The three excerpts show several characteristics that are recurrent in our data: – The je veux dire, rather than marking a speaker’s stance, ties together two actions in a specific way: it projects a second action, namely that the speaker will say something, and announces this second action as retrospectively related to the preceding action. It does not specify what action is to follow, but rather creates a slot for a next action, and an expectation that that action will be related to the preceding action. The continuous intonation on the immediately preceding unit of talk (ex. 10, l. 5; ex. 11, l. 3; ex. 12, l. 8), sometimes combined with fast follow-up on that talk (ex. 11 and 12), indexically displays this strong retrospective orientation.
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
– Due to its projection property, the je veux dire can efficiently be used as a floorholding device. This is most clearly shown in excerpt (12) (but see also 11 and pt. 4.1 infra), where the je veux dire is followed by a lengthy 1.4 second pause, but no co-participant attempts to take the floor. – What follows the je veux dire is pronounced in prosodic continuity with it (level pitch, no new onset); it is projected as part of the same TCU. Based on the preceding analysis, we can sum up the properties of je veux dire as follows: – By contrast to what is considered as canonical uses of je veux dire + subordination marker + clause, the je veux dire initiated configurations documented in this section are not bi-clausal patterns; they consist of a combination of an initial projector fragment (the je veux dire) plus a stretch of talk: the two pieces are related praxeologically and prosodically rather than through morphosyntactic marking. – Je veux dire appears to have sedimented as a highly formulaic sequence, occurring in the present form, with 1st person singular subject and exclusively in the affirmative,3 very much like what Thompson (2002: 137) calls ‘re-usable fragment-schemas’ for English I think or I guess. This homogeneity testifies to a tendency observed in several recent studies of conversational data according to which some matrix clause plus subordinate clause patterns move toward discourse-marker-like element plus following utterance (e.g. Auer & Günthner, 2003; Imo, 2007; Thompson, 2002; Thompson & Mulac 1991). Accordingly, the clause following je veux dire cannot be understood as a complement of the verb. While in some cases it is used as epistemic marker, je veux dire occurs in our data mostly as a projector construction: it is a discourse-constructional element, bearing the traits of a discourse marker, which projects a slot for further talk, and forewhadows that talk as providing some elaboration on the immediately preceding talk. Due to its projection properties, it can also serve as a floor holding device. 3.3
‘Il y a+NP’ (‘there is+NP’)
Despite of the pragmatic and morphosyntactic differences as regards their ‘canonical’ counterparts, parallel observations can be made for configurations initiated by il y a ‘there is’ that resemble presentational clefts. Excerpt (13) again turns
3. In our data, we do not find any consistency across our collection of 60 cases as to whether the je veux dire is pronounced in low voice as in (11) (and sometimes rapidly) or distinctly as in (10).
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around issues of bilingualism. One participant has just brought up a definition of the bilingual person as someone who speaks regularly two languages: (13) (FNRS A 874 sq) 1 M mais ça voudrait dire par exemple que tous les but this would mean for instance that all the 2
enseignants en italien sont bilin:gues. teachers in Italian are bilinguals
(..)
3
4 Q ouais? yeah
5
(.)
6 Q [voilà? that’s it 7 M [euh (.) il y a il y a des cas there are there are det cases 8
je mets des limites, I put det limits
mhm
9 R
10 M ((laughing)) & hear her in the back of the classroom 17 R
[mais (.) par exemple là- (.) oui but for example there yes
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
18 M &mais à part ça ça me plait comme définition. but except for this I like it as a definition 19 B
oui moi aussi yes me too
Excerpt (14) shows part of a discussion about the linguistic life of the perfect bilingual speaker: (14) (FNRS I) 1 N on finit par penser en français? you end up thinking in French 2
on finit par eu:h (..) par parler? you end up speaking
3
par être à l’aise? being at ease
4
mais i- il y a des choses on est marqués, but th- there are det things one is marked ‘but there are things that mark you’
5
par exemple: un numéro de téléphone euh je pourrais for instance a telephone number I could
6
jamais (.) l’avoir en tête (.) en français. never keep it in mind in French
(.)
7
8 N s’il y a un num- un numéro de téléphone if there is a a telephone number 9
vous me le dites, you tell it to me
10 .h j’ai besoin de me le rappeler:, I need to recall it 11
ben (0.5) vous me le dites en français, well you tell it to me in French
12
il entre i- il sort. it goes in it goes out
13 .h vous me le dites en allemand, il reste. you tell it to me in German it stays
14
(2.0)
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15 Q
[est-ce que ((question word))
16 N [vous voyez c’est c’est [c’est des& you see it’s det 17 F
[ouais yeah
18 N &petites différences qui sont là qui restent. little differences that are there that remain The segments highlighted in bold in excerpts (13) and (14) appear at first sight as a mere juxtaposition of two syntactically autonomous clauses, just as in excerpt (5) quoted earlier. According to the standard interpretation of presentational clefts in French, presentational clefts involve a morphosyntactic marking of the link between the two parts. Configurations of il y a presentational constructions where the two parts are not related morphosyntactically remain largely unmentioned in the literature, but have been documented in a few studies of spontaneous speech by adult speakers and by children (Berrendonner, 2003; BlancheBenveniste et al., 1991; Jullien, 2005; Savelli et al., 2000). Under the absence of a relative pronoun, the two parts of the configurations shown in (13) and (14) are tied together by means of projections and prosody (showing no prosodic break and typically level pitch between the two parts). However, the configurations do not consist of a juxtaposition of two clauses either. The nature of the NP (cf. infra) blocks an interpretation of the il y a NP segment as an independent clause, e.g. as an existential expression (cf. Lambrecht, 1994) such as il y a aujourd’hui en France 200 accidents du travail par jour (sarroy) ‘there are currently in France 2000 accidents a day’. Also, the verb avoir ‘to have’ functions here as what Blanche-Benveniste (1989) calls an «auxiliaire de dispositif», a de-semanticized construction auxiliary. The il y a NP-part hence clearly appears as a syntactically incomplete fragment. What is common to the quoted excerpts, and recurrent in our data, is the projection emanating from the il y a NP construction. The il y a NP-part in each of the experts projects that something will be said about the ‘cases’ or the ‘things’ that are brought up in the NP; the semantic vagueness of these NPs strongly contributes to this effect (see also excerpt 5 quoted earlier). This is a significant property of the il y a NP projector constructions, as opposed to general characteristics of presentational clefts – such as il y a une sorcière qui a dessiné un chat (Lae1) ‘there is a witch who drew a cat’ – where the referential expression is said to be specific, and often human (cf. Lambrecht, 1994, for French). The NP in the il y a NP projector construction consist of semantically light elements such as ‘things’, ‘cases’, sometimes
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
called “pseudo-categorizers”, or else of generalizing elements such as ‘questions’ or ‘problems’. All of these typically occur in the plural with an indefinite determiner. This very vagueness contributes to the announcing effect of the il y a NP piece; the second part in turn specifies the ‘cases’, ‘things’, etc. that are brought up in the first part – which brings these il y a NP + clause configurations interestingly close to the pragmatics of pseudoclefts (cf. 3.4 infra). It is noteworthy that excerpts (13) and (14) show two embedded projections that can be schematized as [il y a NP → specification of NP → elaboration]: the il y a NP projects a specification of the NP, and the il y a NP + clause itself projects further elaboration on the NP so specified. This is corroborated by the level pitch at the end of the il y a NP + clause configuration, indicating a continuation of the ongoing turn. For instance in (13), the il y a NP ‘there are cases’ is first specified as ‘where I put limits’, which qualifies ‘the cases’ as something that the speaker does not accept; this is then followed by an exemplification (l. 10–16) of the ‘cases where I put limits’ consisting of a multi-unit stretch of talk. It is noteworthy that this exemplification, introduced by a further il y a NP, is demarcated from the surrounding talk by a slowing down of pace. This slowing down, together with the introductory il y a NP + clause combination, highlights the exemplification as particularly noteworthy. Finally, its end is clearly marked by a return to normal pace (l. 16/17), and to the more general conversational topic of what a bilingual person is: the conclusive marker mais à part ça opens up a generalized final comment, ça me plait comme definition ‘I like that definition’ (see Pekarek Doehler, De Stefani & Horlacher, forthcoming, for the use of left-dislocated assessments as closing initiators). Excerpt (14) shows a similar case where the il y a NP + clause, combined with the preceding discourse marker mais, is followed by a lengthy exemplification of ‘the things’. The exemplification is first framed by the statement on est marqués ‘one [i.e. people] is marked by’ (l. 4), which qualifies ‘the things’ as formatting peoples’ identities. The exemplification is then explicitly introduced by par exemple ‘for instance’, (l. 5), followed by a multi-unit stretch of talk consisting of multiple embedded paratactic configurations (for a detailed analysis of these configurations see Pekarek Doehler et al., 2010). While on a prosodic and syntactic basis, it can be argued that this stretch of talk ends with the final intonation on français at line 6, the exemplification itself is structured as a series of TCUs and comes to an end with the final intonation at line 13, which is then followed by a concluding remark in lines 16–18. Both excerpts show two embedded projections emanating from the initial il y a NP + clause configuration. The il y a NP-part announces something to be said about the ‘cases’ or the ‘things’ that it refers to. The subsequent clause specifies these cases/things (e.g. as a personality-shaping issue, or an unacceptable thing),
Simona Pekarek Doehler
and frames the following stretch of talk as providing further elaborations on these cases/things. While the preceding excerpts showed il y a NP + clause configurations that very much resemble presentational clefts, other instances of il y a NP functioning as projector constructions appear to be harder to relate to presentational clefts because they are followed by an extended stretch of talk, comprising multiple clauses and TCUs. An example is provided in (15), where teachers talk about how to teach languages so as to favor students becoming communicatively efficient: (15) (FNRS B) 1 B mhm. (.) non mais c’est terRIble ça. no but that’s terrible
2
(..)
3 B alors il y a y a un problème là, so there is a problem there 4
moi je pense que: (.) il faut pas faire les fautes, I think that one should not make det mistakes
5
on corrige tellement les fautes, we so much correct det mistakes
6
on regarde tellement les fautes, we so much look at det mistakes
7
il faut parler correctement. you need to speak correctly
8
résultat, (..) ils sont conscients que des fautes. result they are aware only of their mistakes
(..)
9
10 B pis ils oublient que: la première chose and they forget that the foremost thing 11
c’est s’exprimer. is to express yourself
12 M mhm (..) mais c’est intéressant ((turn continues)) but that’s interesting Il y a un problème là ‘there is a problem there’ projects a slot for upcoming talk and annonces that talk as being about a problem, i.e. as specifying what the speakers presents as a problem. Lines 4 to 11 can be heard as providing that specification (including a turn-extension at lines 10–11), and appear to be oriented to as such by Marie, the inteviewer, who assesses Bruno’s presentation of the problem as
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
interesting (l. 12). We will come back to the role of il y a NP construtions in the organization of multi-unit turns in Section 4.3. In sum, then, the quoted examples document a constructional schema that shows many parallels with what we have observed for the je veux dire patterns – but also differences: it consists of an initial projector fragment followed by a syntactically independent stretch of talk, which is prosodically and praxeologically tied to the first part. Based on the syntactic and lexical consistency of the first part [il y a + indef. semantically ‘light’ NP], the initial fragment appears as highly homogenous, while the second part is much more varied. This second part can consist of a simple clause (as in ex. 13 and 14) or of a longer stretch or talk (as in ex. 15). The consistency of the il y a NP-part confers a formulaic aspect upon it, here again reminiscent of what we have observed for the even more homogenous je veux dire construction. Its syntactico-lexical consistency and its semantic vagueness clearly hint at its generalized use as a discourse organizational device: it functions as a projector construction foreshadowing further talk by the same speaker. While the je veux dire construction, due to its retrospective orientation, prolongs some previous action by announcing the subsequent talk as providing some further elaboration on immediately preceding talk (e.g. an account, an exemplification), but without further specifying what that talk will be about nor what action it accomplishes, the il y a NP fragment is more exclusively prospectively oriented. This is highlighted by the fact that it typically occurs at the start either of a new turn or of a new TCU following a complex transition relevance place (cf. Ford & Thompson, 1996) and is marked by new prosodic onset. Also, the il y a NP does not merely create a slot for upcoming talk, but it frames that talk as being about a ‘problem’, a ‘case’, a ‘thing’ brought up in the il y a NP construction itself. 3.4
Pseudocleft-like constructions
A number of parallel observations have recently been made on behalf of pseudocleft-like configurations (see Hopper 2001, 2004 and Hopper & Thompson, 2008, for English; Günthner, 2006, for German; Müller, 2006 and 2007 for French). As mentioned earlier (pt. 2), the standard French pseudo-cleft construction consists of a ce que- (for direct object) or ce qui- (for subject) initiated free relative clause (corresponding to the English wh-clause), followed by the dummy pronoun + copula combination c’est (literally: ‘it is’), which typically introduces a NP, an infinitive clause or a finite nominal clause. In our French data, however, we regularly find configurations that differ from this standard pattern, as illustrated in (16) and (17):
Simona Pekarek Doehler
(16)
(J 1623 sq) ce qu’on- eu::h on: on a fait what we we we aux do-pp ‘what we did’
maintenant j’ai une classe que je suis now I have a class that I teach pour la deuxième année, for the second year (17) (FNRS D) ce que je voulais dire what I wanted to say c’est vrai qu’ il y a quand-même tout ce phénomène, it’s true that there is nevertheless all this phenomenon Excerpts (16) and (17) show configurations of two clause-like elements that are prosodically tied together (level pitch; no prosodic break between first and second part) but are not connected by any morphosyntactic means. Such configurations which resemble pseudoclefts have rarely been documented in the literature for French (but see Valli: 1981: 207), but have recently been accounted for as regards English and German (Günthner, 2006; Hopper & Günthner, 2010; Hopper & Thompson, 2008). These configurations bear some pragmatic and syntactic traits of classical pseudoclefts as discussed in the literature (cf. pt. 2 supra). For instance, the first part can be heard as presenting a presupposition including an underspecified referential element. By contrast, while in classical wh-clefts a specification is proffered in what follows the wh-part, in cases such as (16) and (17) it seems hard to argue that the second part specifies ‘what we did’ or ‘what I wanted to say’. Nevertheless, the first clause syntactically (and lexically) corresponds to the typical wh-part of pseudocleft constructions. Hopper & Thompson (2008) note that most of the wh-clauses in pseudoclefts in their data are lexically constrained and formulaic. A small number of verbs predominate in the wh-clause. Hopper (2004) has previously documented that the most frequent verbs in this environment in English are ‘do’, ‘happen’, ‘say’. In her French data, Blanche-Benveniste (2010) finds predominantly verbi dicendi, facendi and pensiendi. This is also what we find in the types of configurations quoted in (16) and (17). This very syntactic and lexical consistency of the initial clause confers a formulaic aspect to the first part, suggesting that this part (as opposed to the second part) is used as highly recurrent routinized format, very much like what we have observed for the two previously discussed constructions. It is a fragment, rather than a full clause, as it is visibly both syntactically and semantically incomplete.
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
Its function is to project further talk by the same speaker, and to foreshadow some particular action to be accomplished by that talk, namely a specification of what has been announced in the wh-part: in example (16), ‘what we did’ creates an expectation with the co-participants that the current speaker will specify what he did; in (17) ‘what I want to say’ creates an expectation that the speaker will specify what he wants to say. This very property is reminiscent of what has been pinpointed recently in Hopper & Thompson’s (2008), Günthner (2006) and Günthner & Hopper’s (2010) discussion of pseudoclefts in English and in German respectively (cf. pt. 4.3. infra). Hopper and Thompson (2008) note: “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” (p. 105, emphasis in the original).
In the cases quoted here, the projected talk is framed as exposing a past endeavor ‘what we did’ (16) and as presenting something the speaker ‘wants to say’ (17). The framing device hence functions as a means for action projection: it foreshadows what the speaker is going to do next. 3.5
Summary and initial discussion of the findings
Three different patterns that are documented in the literature as bi-clausal constructions regularly appear in our data as juxtapositions of two syntactically autonomous pieces, an initial projector construction plus a clause or multi-unit stretch of talk; the two parts are not tied together morphosyntactically, yet they are linked prosodically. This further corroborates the fact that grammar in talk-in-interaction is often different from what classical interpretations of grammar have documented or claimed (see the seminal statement by Ochs, Schegloff & Thompson, 1996). It also shows the crucial role of prosody in locally tying together stretches of talk where syntax does not (Selting, 1996). In the configurations under analysis, the sequentially first piece implements relatively fixed syntactic and lexical patterns, often with low prosodic pro-eminence. This point meets Hopper & Thompson’s (2008) recent observations on English and German pseudo-cleft and extraposition constructions: ‘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.’ (p. 99). While such consistency of the initial part has so far been documented in particular for pseudoclefts, we have seen that this is most strikingly the case for French je veux dire, which occurs as a projector construction only in this very combination of first person singular pronoun plus present tense. Highly limited lexical choices are also found
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with the il y a construction comprising lexical NPs that are referentially vague, such as ‘things’, ‘issues’, ‘problems’, etc. These properties clearly show that the projector constructions discussed here bear typical traits of grammaticalization: high lexical and structural consistency, reduction of their semanticism, and sometimes low prosodic pro-eminence (cf. Traugott & Hopper, 2003). This suggests that the first parts of the configurations under analysis (i.e. the projector constructions) are produced as routinized, strongly sedimented formats while they open a space for much less constrained follow-ups. These initial parts are designed to accomplish a specific action: they announce some talk to come, thereby attracting co-participants attention to that upcoming talk and foreshadowing both turn-shape and turn-type (cf. Schegloff, 1996):4 – Je veux dire is least specific as to what is to follow. It does not specify what action is coming up, but rather creates a slot for a next action, and an expectation that that action will be tightly related to the preceding action; it frames subsequent talk as providing some kind of elaboration on the immediately preceding talk by the same speaker (e.g. an exemplification of a preceding statement, an account for a preceding affirmation). This strong retrospective orientation is reflected in the fact that the preceding talk ends on continuing intonation. – Il y a NP, although topically related to what precedes, is more straightforwardly prospective, announcing something new to come up. It typically occurs as a new TCU after a TRP marked by final pitch drop or rise, and starts with new prosodic onset. The NP in the il y a NP construction is referentially vague. Il y a NP is more specific as to what the talk coming up is about: it frames that talk as being about a ‘problem’, an ‘issue’, or a ‘thing’ brought by means of the NP in the il y a NP construction itself. That is, the lexico-semantic nature of the NP enhances the nature of the projection. – The ce que/ce qui-construction, just like the il y a NP construction, is strongly prospectively oriented, introducing a new action after a prosodically marked TRP. It tends to comprise a limited set of verbs (verbi dicendi, faciendi, pensiendi) or VPs (‘to be’ + qualifier, e.g. ‘interesting’). And it projects further talk as specifying something that is presented in the ce que/ce qui-piece: it frames that talk as being about ‘what someone said’, ‘what is interesting’, etc.). Here again, the lexico-semantic nature of the ce que/ce qui-construction enhances the projection. 4. Projector constructions and what they accomplish in talk are different from prefatory activities (such as pres or pre-pres), as the latter typically call for recipient’s acknowledgement or go-ahead signal (cf. Schegloff, 1980). Projector constructions also differ from turn-entry devices such as ‘and’ or ‘but’ or simple floor holders like ‘ehm’ in that they specify some aspect of the talk to come.
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
Based on these characteristics, all three constructions can be interpreted as projector constructions that serve as framing devices for further talk. The findings hence meet ongoing discussions on wh-pieces (Günthner, 2006; Günthner & Hopper, 2010; Hopper, 2001; 2004; Hopper & Thompson, 2010), extrapositions (CouperKuhlen & Thompson, 2008), ex-complement-taking predicate phrases such as German ich meine ‘I mean’ (Auer & Günthner, 2003; Günthner & Imo, 2004; Imo, 2007; see also Thompson, 2002) or phrases such as ‘the thing is’ (Günthner, this volume). Günthner (this volume) notes: ‘These constructions are connected with a taxonomic network of related constructions with structural and functional overlaps’ (p. 18). We have seen that the French je veux dire, il y a NP and ce que/ce quiconstructions are part of such a taxonomic network of projector constructions. But if this is the case, what is the scope of the projection? 4. Projector constructions and the construction of complex turns We find regularly in our data cases where the second part following the projector construction is long, syntactically complex, yet is treated by the participants as being related to the projector construction itself. On these grounds, I argue in this section that projector constructions are discourse-organizational devices that project a potentially open-ended slot for further talk; as such, they are one of the resources participants use for organizing complex turns. In tackling this issue, we need to look at how grammar is contextualized within the sequential organization of larger courses of practical activities. Let’s again start with an example of the je veux dire type. 4.1. ‘Je veux dire’ projector constructions in complex turns Excerpt (18) is taken from the discussion about definitions of bilingualism quoted before. Emile responds to a question by Jean as to what his opinion is about two contrasting definitions of bilingualism (bilingualism in terms of regular use vs. perfect mastery of two languages). (18) (FNRS I) 1 E [pou-] pour moi le bilingu for for me det bilingu 2
enfin moi-même je je considère pas euh well I myself I I don’t consider
3
je me considère pas en tant que bilingue? I don’t consider myself as a bilingual
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4
parce que pour moi le bilinguisme c’était because for me det bilingualism was
5
justement comme monsieur bah just like the genleman bah
6
dès la naissance on parle euh régulièrement deux from det birth on you speak regularly two
7
langues ou plusieurs langues, languages or several languages
8 .h mai:s une fois si on ap but once if you 9
si on apprend une langue une fois plus tard, if you learn a language at a later time
10 .h on arrive jamais à la maîtriser, you will never master it 11
je veux dire euh (..) on a toujours un accent, I mean you have always an accent
12
toujours des fautes, on a you have always det mistakes
13
on a touj- (m-) (.) on a toujours quelque chose, you have alw- you have always some thing
14
=°je veux dire° on est toujours on est toujours I mean you are always you are always
15
[suisse allemand& Swiss German
16 J
[oui yes
17 E &°pour finir°. ((small laughter)) in the end 18 J
[ah oui? oh yes?
19 E [même si même si on arrive à bien parler, even if even if you manage to speak well 20
même si on arrive à: à:: .h à s’[exprimer,& even if you manage to to to express yourself
21 J
[mhm
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
22 E & donc pour moi ((lowers voice)) so for me 23
un bilinguisme c’est: euh (.) a bilingualism is
24
parler dès la naissance deux langues quoi. speaking from birth on two languages part
25 J
donc euh vous seriez plutôt eu:h so you would rather be
26
dans la définitio:n (.) une. in the definition number one
27 E °ouais si vous voulez ouais° yeah kind of yeah As part of his response to Jean’s question, Emile defines bilingualism as the use of two languages since early childhood (l. 1–7). He then adds that when you learn a language later, you will never be able to fully master it (l. 8–10). Emile’s subsequent je veux dire (l. 11) introduces an elaboration on his answer, by means of which he specifies what he meant by ‘if you learn a language later you will never master it’ (l. 9). In this sequential environment, the je veux dire projects an upcoming elaboration on the immediately preceding talk. The hesitation and the micro-pause following je veux dire, combined with the absence of recipient reaction at this point, suggest that the je veux dire also has a floor-holding effect, giving Emile time to formulate what is coming up without being interrupted by a co-participant. This analysis confirms what we have said earlier about the use of je veux dire as a projector construction with a strong retrospective-prospective orientation: je veux dire projects a subsequent segment of talk in some way as subjacent with regard to what precedes (cf. pt. 3.2 supra). This is also corroborated, in excerpt (18), by the fact that once Emile has specified what he meant, he returns to the ‘main’ action of providing an answer by means of the discourse marker donc ‘so’ plus a summary statement (l. 22), which in turn initiates a sequence closing (for the role of summary assessments in closing sequences see e.g. Drew & Holt, 1998). The summary statement is followed here by a clarification request by Jean (l. 25–26), and Emile’s response to that request (l. 27), after which a new sequence will be opened. Now, the excerpt allows us to carry the analysis one step further. The [je veux dire + elaboration] segment shows the following sequential architecture, which is recurrent in our data with this and other types of projector constructions:
Simona Pekarek Doehler
I. A projector construction (l. 11). II. The projector construction is followed (l. 11–24) by a lengthy stretch of talk consisting of multiple TCUs. This stretch of talk is not syntactically linked to the projector construction, but its start is prosodically continuous with it. In the present case, this subsequent segment of talk is made of a complex sequence of – coordinated clauses (a juxtaposition of clauses within a three-part list: on a toujours un accent, on a toujours des fautes, on a toujou- (m-) (.) on a toujours quelque chose, followed by a second je veux dire which introduces a conclusion of the preceding list: on est toujours on est toujours (..) suisse allemande °pour finir°); – subordinated clauses (même si on arrive à bien parler, même si on arrive à s’exprimer,), which incrementally extend the turn after a first complex TRP at line 17. III. The placement of the recipient’s actions is clearly oriented to the structure of the multi-unit stretch of talk following the projector construction: recipient tokens (l. 16, 18, 21) occur after recognizable points of possible completion of the projected talk: the first of these (l. 16) is placed after the completion of the three-item list (the third element, on a toujours quelque chose ‘you always have something’, can be understood as a generalized list completor, cf. Jefferson, 1972), but comes in quite late. The second recipient reaction (l. 18) is placed at the very end what Emile presents as the gist of the preceding list. The third recipient token (l. 21) occurs in slight anticipation of a further possible point of completion of the projected action, in overlap with the end of the two incrementally added même si-clauses. The placement of these tokens shows that Jean closely monitors the architecture of Emile’s turn in a way that is oriented to the initial je veux dire projecting an elaboration of the immediately preceding talk, and the subsequent je veux dire as projecting a further elaboration embedded in that first elaboration. What we see Emile do is a way of constructing a complex turn (or at least part of it) in a recognizable manner. The projector construction serves as a resource not only for projecting a slot of talk, thereby holding the floor, and creating the expectation that that talk will in some way elaborate on the preceding talk; it also allows (together with the structure of the subsequent talk) for the recognizability, by the co-participants, of possible points where the projected elaboration can be heard as completed. The placement of recipient reactions that we have identified reveals the mutual orientation of the participants to this projection and to the unfolding architecture of the turn.
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
4.2
‘Il y a NP’ projector constructions in complex turns
Similar patternings can be found with il y a NP-initiated stretches of talk. The following excerpt is taken from a discussion among teachers about the (dis)advantages of correcting errors in second language classrooms. (19) (FNRS J 581) 1 B pendant tout notre système scolaire on a été during all our schooling system we have been 2
taxé à cause des fautes qu’on a fait, sanctioned because of the errors we made
3 L mhm
4 B .h et puis >à un certain moment< and then at a given moment 5
pour ne pas faire de fautes on ne parle pas. in order not to make errors you don’t speak
(1.2)
6
7 B xxx (.) °alors°, (0.6) là il me semble so there it seems to me 8
°il y a: (...) there is
il y a quelque chose d’important there is something important
9
à:: (.) à voir°, to to see
10
=est-ce que (..) la langue est faite ((question word)) the language is made ‘is the language made’
11
pour s’Exprimer, (.) °avec ou sans fautes°, for expressing yourself with or without mistakes
12 (0.8) ou bien est-ce que la la- la langue or does the the- the language 13
doit être correcte pour qu’on puisse need to be correct in order for you to be able to
14
qu’on puisse l’utiliser? For you to be able to use it
(.)
15
16 B ((pitch rise)) alors il me semble que dans ces so it seems to me that in these
Simona Pekarek Doehler
17
nuances qu’on fait ((clears his throat)) nuances you make
18
il y a ce problème derrière. there is this problem behind
19 B .h oui je sais demander du pain yes I know how to ask for bread 20
mais je fais des fautes. but I make det mistakes
21 S? [mhm
22 L [mhm
23 B [alors je suis pas- (.) je suis [pas bilingue. so I am not- I am not bilingual
24 L
25 S? moi xxxxx
[xxxxxx juste
Bruno provides first a strong view on a central point of discussion (‘during the whole school years you are sanctioned for errors and finally in order to not make errors you don’t speak’, l. 1–5). He ends this statement with falling pitch, indicating a TRP. In the face of the noticeable absence of recipient reaction (see the 1.2s pause at l. 6), Bruno then announces something more to come about that point. This is done through a combination of means, including the discourse marker alors ‘so’, the là il me semble ‘there it seems to me’ (the discourse deictic là ‘there’ makes explicit a retrospective orientation of what is coming up), and the il y a-construction, produced with markedly softer voice: ... il y a quelque chose d’important à:: (.) à voir ‘there is something important to see’ (l. 8/9). The lexico-semantic nature of the complex NP in the il y a NP construction strongly contributes to the projection effect, announcing ‘something important’ to come up. While resembling the syntactic shape of the first part of a presentative construction along the standard scheme [il y a NP (qui)], the initial fragment here again bears the semantico-pragmatic traits of the initial clause in a pseudo-cleft [A c’est B], where A is presented as underspecified, and B as specifying A (see Valli, 1981, and Müller, 2006 for the resemblance between the two constructions in French). In other words, what follows is projected as specifying ‘something interesting to see’. The subsequent stretch of talk is closely tied to the projector construction, both by means of intonation (level pitch on voir, and no new pitch onset on est-ce que) and by means of phonetic latching (the est-ce que is latched to the final /r/ of voir). Again, this stretch of talk is patterned in a complex way. First a question based on two alternatives is exposed (l. 10–14), which appears to be both designed
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
and interpreted as a rhetorical question rather than a first pair part soliciting coparticipant reaction. The absence of recipient reactions at this point suggests that the talk so far, despite the TCU final (rising) intonation, is not oriented to as providing what was been projected, namely ‘something important to see’. Rather, the projected action appears to be treated as still under way. Bruno’s question is then followed by a repetition of alors il me semble ‘so it seems to me’ (l. 16), marked by new prosodic onset, which has the effect of re-launching the action projected by the initial projector fragment and indeed leads into a first recognizable completion point of that action: Bruno’s important point is recognizably made at the moment where he says that the whole thing boils down to the problem of one being able to ask for bread, even though making mistakes (l. 19/20). Here, first recipient reactions occur (l. 21/22), which are in turn followed by Bruno’s conclusive statement, introduced by alors ‘so’: alors je suis pas- (.) j’suis pas bilingue ... ‘so I am not- I am not bilingual’ (l. 23). Excerpt (19) in sum shows the following sequential pattern, which is remarkably parallel to what we have observed for excerpt (18): I. A projector construction (l. 8/9). II. A complex multi-unit stretch of talk which is not morphosyntactically tied to the projector construction, but is prosodically continuous with it (l. 9/10); this subsequent complex stretch consists of coordinated and subordinated clauses that can be read (and appear to be read by the participants) as accomplishing the projected action. III. This second segment’s first recognizable point of completion is oriented to by participants: recipient tokens occur exactly at this point, and not before. Visibly, what ties this stretch of talk together, here again, is not any morphosyntactic marking of the linkage between its clausal constituents. Rather, it is the action projection emanating form the initial projector construction and the participants’ joint orientation to it. The scope of the projector construction reaches far beyond the subsequent clause, encompassing a lengthy multi-unit stretch of talk. This scope, of course, is not defined a priori, with the mere occurrence of the projector construction, but is configured on a moment-to-moment basis, as talk unfolds across time. 4.3
‘ce qui/ce que x’ (wh-clause) projector constructions in complex turns
Quite in line with the preceding analysis of je veux dire and il y a NP, the data shows ce que/ce qui x (i.e. English wh-clause) initiated configurations where the second part does not consist of a single clause, but is shaped as a multi-unit stretch of talk. This has been documented earlier by Hopper (2004) and Hopper & Thompson
Simona Pekarek Doehler
(2008) for English and Günthner (2006) for German (see also Günthner & Hopper, 2008). A first illustration is provided in the following excerpt: (20) (FNRS I) 1 P donc on va devoir retravailler la di so we will have to rework the di 2
la motivation différemment. det motivation differently
3 F ce qui est intéressant par rapport à what is interesting with regard to 4
ce que:: vous disiez, what you said
5 eh:hm vous parliez là de: de littérature et tout, you talked there about literature and all 6 .h moi je vois avec mes élèves qui pourtant sont au I see with my pupils who still are in 7
collège le fait de travailer par immersion, high school the fact of working by immersion
8 (.) où ils sont vraiment confrontés à where they are truely confronted with 9
des texts authentiques en allemand, det authentic texts in German
10
sur les zed des statistiques et caetera, on the ‘zeds’ of statistics et cetera
11 .h il y a cette: crain:te de l’inconnu:: there is this fear of the unknown 12 13
qui se qui c- qui disparaît petit à petit? that that that disappears step by step ((turn continued))
Fabio’s ce qui est intéressant par rapport à ce que:: vous disiez projects the upcoming talk as accomplishing a specific action, namely providing an assessment of what was interesting in Peter’s talk. However, the clause following the ce qui-piece (vous parliez là de: de literature et tout, ‘you spoke there about literature and all’, l. 5) is clearly not fulfilling this projection (and is apparently not heard as such by the coparticipants: see the absence of recipient reactions): the ‘you spoke there about literature’, rather than specifying ce qui est intéressant ... ‘what is interesting’, further frames the subsequent talk as being related to what the preceding speaker was just talking about, namely literature.
Projector constructions in French talk-in-interaction
The right-hand boundary of the stretch of talk following the ce qui projector construction is hard to identify: what follows appears to be rather open-ended, and it is not clear what exactly in the subsequent talk presents the ‘interesting’ point foreshadowed in the projector construction. As mentioned earlier, this is in line with recent accounts of pseudoclefts in spontaneous talk. Hopper (2004) in particular, shows for English data that, frequently, ‘what follows the wh piece is a stretch of discourse of indeterminate length’ (p. 5). Parallel observations have been made by Müller (2006) for French conversational data. Accordingly, Müller considers pseudoclefts as implementing a ‘hyper-scheme’ with no discernable right-hand boundary. These structural properties of the configuration quoted in (20) highlight the projection force emanating from the ce qui piece. Hopper (2004) argues that the whparts in complex pseudocleft-like configurations (i.e. configurations with a lengthy stretch of talk following the wh-part) accomplish the function of projecting an upcoming focal stretch of discourse. These properties very much correspond to what Hopper and Thompson (2008) have found for pseudoclefts in English conversation, showing that the wh-pieces frames further talk as reporting on some action, event, and the like (cf. pt. 3.3. supra). What is interesting is that, by doing so, the projector construction helps co-participants to monitor through the architecture of the turn. For the specific configuration discussed here, based on the sequential organization of talk and its moment-by-moment deployment, and in line with the quoted studies, I would like to argue the following: the second part can be read as related to the ce qui (i.e. the wh-) part as either an open-ended or a bounded multi-unit stretch of talk due to praxeological projections emanating from the ce qui part. That is: the second part is oriented to by co-participants – and hence interpretable – as accomplishing an action that is projected by the first part and that accomplishment can be of various length. Due to the initial projection force, what follows can be read as related to that part, for instance as providing background info (as in l. 3, ex. 20), rather than as doing some random thing (see Hayashi, 2004, on this property of projection; see also Goodwin, 1996, on prospective indexicals). This property allows the initial projector construction to function as a resource for constructing complex turns or part of these. Further evidence for these properties of ce que/ce qui x projector constructions is provided in excerpt (21): (21) (FNRS J)5 1 L ça ça peu::t (0.7) ((clears throat)) that that can 5. This excerpt is part of a database shared among several members of the research team at the Centre for Applied Linguistics, University of Neuchâtel, and has previously been discussed by Müller (2007).
Simona Pekarek Doehler
2 (..) entrer dans la motivation. be part of det motivation
3
(0.3)
4 L je dirais que (1.0) dan::s- (0.8) I’d say that in 5
ce qu’on-^eu::h on: on a fait, what we we we did
6
>maintenant j’ai une classe que je suis now I have a class that I follow
7
pour la deuxième année, for the second year
8
=°mais mêm:e ceux que je suis enbut even those who I follow in-
9
que j’ai pour la première annéeet ça ça< faster slower ((laughing)) transcriber’s comment + indicates the onset of a stretch of talk to which a comment relates Symbols used in the gloss det loc part pro pro.rel 3sg/1pl m/f/n sbj obj
determiner locative particle pronoun relative pronoun third person singular/ first person plural masculine/ feminine/ neuter subject object
A note on the emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese conversation Ryoko Suzuki
1. Introduction This short paper is an attempt to relate two functional approaches to grammar that have emerged over the past three decades: (1) the approach which delves into the relationship between interaction and grammar, e.g., Couper-Kuhlen and Ono 2007, Englebretson 2007, Ochs, Schegloff, and Thompson 1996, Selting and Couper-Kuhlen 2001; (2) the approach focusing on grammatic(al)ization e.g., Bybee 2003, Hopper and Traugott 2003, Traugott and Dasher 2005, Heine and Kuteva 2002, among many others. We will examine constructions involving tte, a quotative particle form in Japanese that frequently occurs in natural conversation. We will take historical conversational data and look at the quotative tte construction, paying close attention to the relationship between the construction and the interactional work it is doing, especially in the early stages of its occurrence. In modern Japanese, there are basically two major forms of quotatives, to which is more readily associated with higher formality, and tte, with casualness. To has been used as a quotative since Old Japanese period, whereas tte began to be documented in conversational portions of novels in early 1800s (Suzuki R. 1999a,1999b, 2007). There are at least two views in terms of the origin of tte: One view says it is a contracted form of to plus the adverbial form of the verb iu ‘say’with a connective particle te. The other view says it is a combination of to plus a connective particle te (Nihon Kokugo Daijiten (NKD)). Tte is found in conversational portions of novels as early as the 1800s as a form introducing an utterance produced elsewhere by a third person. Not just utterances, but also the content of thoughts, or even a sound or noise can be introduced using the tte form. However, introducing another’s utterance is the earliest function to emerge, the most frequent and stable, and thus the most fundamental function across time in my diachronic data (Suzuki R. 1999a,1999b, 2007). An example like the following would be representative of the contemporary use of tte:
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(1)
nichiyoobi no niji goro da tte itte ta. Sunday gen two o’clock around cop comp say:prg pst ‘(She) was saying that it is around two o’clock on Sunday.’ (cited by Okamoto 1995: 239 as natural conversational data. Romanization and translation modified)
Tte follows the complement clause (nichiyoobi no niji goro da ‘It is around two o’clock on Sunday’), which represents reported speech. The reported utterance in the complement is followed by a predicate of saying (itte ta ‘(she) was saying’). Since the late 1800s, tte has gradually increased the range of its discoursepragmatic functions, and has become a very frequently-used morpheme in contemporary Japanese conversation (Suzuki R. 1999a, 1999b, 2007). The functions of tte include utterance-final uses as a pragmatic particle indicating various types of speaker attitudes, such as hearsay reporting, insistence, self-mockery, and concession (e.g., Okamoto 1995, Okamoto and Ono 2008, Suzuki R. 1999a, 1999b, 2007, Suzuki S. 1998, 2001). Example (2), an invented example, shows the utterance-final use of tte with a reportive function; the main verb ‘say’ in the English translation is not overtly expressed in Japanese. Example (3) includes two tokens of utterance-final tte as a marker of ‘insistence.’ (2) Minako, otoosan ga ima sugu koi tte. name father nom now right.away come tte ‘Minako, Dad (says) “Come right away.”’ (3)
(invented example)
hontoo da tte. ore puropoozu nanka shitena tte. true cop tte I popose such.a.thing do:neg tte ‘(It)’s true, really. (I) didn’t propose marriage (to her), really.’ (Okamoto 1995: 241 from a TV drama. Romanization and translation modified)
In comparing constructions like (1) on one hand, and (2) and (3) on the other, in terms of their syntactic and semantic-pragmatic behaviors, Okamoto draws the following conclusions: the use of tte as a ‘complementizer’, as in (1), and its use as an utterance-final pragmatic particle, as in (2) and (3), are not identical, with the latter being more pragmatically strengthened (1995: 243). In other words, she argues, a clause with the final particle tte is not a complement clause with an ellipted main clause, but rather should be treated as an independent construction with tte expressing a specific modality. At the same time, Okamoto also acknowledges the closeness in meaning between some instances of the complement clause construction and the reanalyzed independent clause construction. For example, (1) and (2) above are one such pair of examples showing this closeness, since they both introduce an utterance made
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
by someone else prior to the current speech event, with tte immediately following the reported speech. Okamoto (1995: 243) suggests that the latter use may “have evolved from elliptical expressions consisting of complements, and that these SFPs have their origin in the corresponding COMPs” (emphasis added).1 She continues by arguing that “the functions of these SFPs reflect to some extent the functions of the corresponding COMPs: ... to and tte for indicating the quotative aspect of the utterance. It is thus logical to assume that the usages of these SFPs are instances of reanalysis of morphological functions.” Having studied the development of a range of pragmatic functions of tte diachronically in my own research, I find that what Okamoto suggests above makes sense intuitively: There is a clear connection between the complementfinal tte (e.g. (1) and utterance-final uses of tte (e.g., (2) and (3)). Inspired by her study, in this paper, I will delve further into the early development of utterance-final tte clauses i.e., those which have no following main clause. What do the earlier stages of tte occurrences show us regarding the development of the independent tte clause? Would we only find full expressions (i.e., non-elliptical versions) consisting of a tte-complement and a main clause in the earlier data? We will see in later sections that at the earliest stage of development of tte2 in the 1800s, we do find instances of tte in utterance-final position without a following ‘main’ clause, with several different interactional motivations. I will suggest that the earlier data deserve careful examination, suggesting that certain types of interactional practices were presumably frequently associated with utterance-final uses of tte. 2. Background and hypothesis It has been pointed out in the grammaticization3 literature that when two clauses of certain types are combined frequently, structurally less-integrated clauses become more integrated, as shown in the continuum on Figure 1, based on Hopper and Traugott (2003: 179, 190, 204). According to the figure, combined clauses have 1. Okamoto’s SFP stands for sentence-final particles, i.e., utterance-final pragmatic particles in this paper, and her COMP stands for complementizers. 2. The earliest instances in my database come from a novel Ukiyoburo (1809) by Shikitei Sanba, which is considered to reflect the colloquial Edo (Tokyo) speech of the time. The novel consists of a comical dialogic exchanges of characters coming to a public bathhouse in Edo. NKD, one of the most comprehensive dictionary of the Japanese language, also cites the same examples. 3. There are two technical terms, grammaticalization and grammaticization, used in the field. I take them to be more or less synonymous, and choose to use grammaticization here.
Ryoko Suzuki Subordination
Reduction to simplex
Parataxis adjacent nuclei
Hypotaxis
nucleus + margin
nucleus > 0 margin > nucleus
minimal
maximal
n/a
maximal
minimal
>0
Figure 1.╇ Complex clause structure over time (based on Hopper and Traugott 2003: 179, 190, 204)
relative status to one another: a nucleus refers to a clause that can stand alone, and a margin to a clause that is dependent to a nucleus. Parataxis shows minimal integration because it consists of more than one adjacent but independent clause (nucleus). Then comes hypotaxis, which exhibits an interdependent relationship consisting of one nucleus and a margin. Subordination involves maximal integration because a margin, a dependent clause, becomes part of the nucleus. Then out of subordinate, i.e., maximally unified complex constructions, develop simple clauses, “with an original verbal construction coming to be downgraded into auxiliary-like, or adverbial status (Hopper and Traugott 2003: 211)” or even disappears: The following examples are constructed Japanese clauses that correspond to each type of complex clause structures. The bold shows an independent clause (a nucleus), and the underline shows a dependent clause (a margin): parataxis yooi ga dekita minna de tabeta. preparation nom finished everyone with ate ‘The preparation (of the meal) finished. All of us ate together.’ hypotaxis yooi ga dekita node minna de tabeta. preparation nom finished so everyone with ate ‘(The meal) was ready, so all of us ate together.’ subordination yooi ga dekita no o minna de tabeta. preparation nom finished nmz acc everyone with ate ‘All of us together ate the thing (=meal) that was ready.’ reduction to simplex yooi ga dekita node. preperation nom finished so ‘(The meal) is ready so ...’4
4. There is an implication left hanging, whose interpretation is context dependent. For example, we could add the translation ‘(please come.)’ after ‘so’ as one possible interpretation here.
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
As shown in Figure 1 and the examples above, Hopper and Traugott propose that at the very final phase of the process, a subordinate clause becomes a simplex (i.e., independent) clause on its own while the original main clause disappears. In other words, after the stage of maximal integration comes the stage of reduction of the main clause (i.e., “nucleus > 0” in Figure 1), which is part of our interest here. Cross-linguistic research has found a number of cases involving the reduction of multi-clausal constructions. For example, one of the earliest studies focusing on this point is by Thompson and Mulac (1991) on “epistemic parentheticals” in modern English. They report that in English conversation, certain combinations of subject and main verb, especially I think, have become fixed phrases, occurring not only in utterance-initial positions, but also in utterance-medial and -final positions. These fixed expressions are also accompanied by phonological reduction. These findings show that the apparent “complement” clause is now treated as an independent clause, whereas the apparent “subject-plus-main-verb” combinations are going through the process of being grammaticized into unitary epistemic phrases. The case of ultimate reduction to zero is reported in Japanese, which is typologically different from English. Ohori (1995, 1997) discusses the prevalence of clauses that include markers for subordination but are not followed by a main clause, using the term “Suspended Clause Constructions (SCCs).” He introduces a wide range of stand-alone non-final clauses ending with markers such as the conditional -ba, -tara, the connectives of reason kara, node ‘because/so’, and connectives of concession kedo, noni ‘although’. He points out that these clauses occur especially in conversation, that speakers seem not to have any trouble interpreting them, and that these markers have their own pragmatic function as utterance-final discourse particles. There are many case studies focusing on some of these markers, pointing basically in the same direction (e.g., Okamoto (1995) on the complementizers no, koto, to, tte, Nakayama and Ichihashi-Nakayama (1997) on kedo ‘though’, Higashiizumi (2006) on kara ‘because’, and R. Suzuki (1999a, 1999b, 2007) on the quotative tte.) More recently, Mulder and Thompson (2006, 2008) have reported on the recent use of but in Australian and American English conversation. Although there are traditional uses of but, i.e., as a turn-initial conjunction, linking two clauses of contrasting content together, there are also instances of but in utterance-final position, with an implication left “hanging.” They also find the further change that especially in Australian English, but has become an utterance-final discourse particle, marking contrastive content, noting that the process of grammaticization of but is similar to the pathway followed by though (Barth-Weingarten & CouperKuhlen 2002). These studies support Hopper and Traugott’s claim that in clause-combining constructions, under certain interactional circumstances, one of the clauses may get
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reduced, or may be omitted, leaving one independent clause. Such studies, based on natural conversational discourse, suggest that the distinction between “main clause” and “dependent/subordinate clause” may be useful as a starting point of linguistic analysis, but that this distinction is often not clear-cut in spoken discourse, especially in conversation. The papers in this volume also point in this direction. Based on Hopper and Traugott’s schematization (2003), and on Okamoto’s suggestions (1995), we can formulate the following hypothesis: the construction in (1), in which tte connects a complement and the main clause, is indeed earlier than constructions like (2) or (3), in which we find an independent clause with tte at the end, without any main clause. 3. Data My data come from conversational portions of novels reflecting colloquial language from both the early 1800s (mainly around the 1830s) and the late 1800s (mainly around the 1880s). No more than ten tokens were taken from novels written by the same author. In order to examine the structural relationship between the quotative tte complement and independent clauses with tte at the end, I culled all instances of complement-clause-final and independent-clause-final tte tokens from my data.5 4. Observation of the early occurrences of tte in the 1800s The oldest function of tte is to introduce an utterance (or thought) made previously by someone else (Suzuki R. 1999a, b). Focusing on the syntactic environment of the early instances of tte constructions from the early and late 1800s, we find four types of syntactic environments in which a tte construction is found: the tte construction followed by a main clause (i.e., tte used as a complementizer), as well as three types of apparent counter-examples to our hypothesis, i.e., utterancefinal tte constructions that are not followed by a main clause. The characteristics and distribution of each construction will be considered below. What we find in the earlier data is thus not only a complementizer tte with a main clause; the picture is in fact more complicated. 5. Since the 1930s, we also see the sequence of tte following a nominal, hence serving the topicintroducing function (Suzuki-san tte dare? ‘Who is Suzuki-san?’), or the naming function (Sanoya tte mise shitteru? ‘Do you know the shop called Sanoya?’). Therefore, those usages of tte serve noun-related functions and they are often followed by a predicate (e.g., dare? ‘Who?’, shitteru? ‘Do you know?’). In this paper, such noun-introducing tokens of tte are excluded from the analysis.
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
4.1
Tte clause as dependent clause: Quotative complement with tte, followed by a main clause
The first type is the typical textbook example of a tte construction as an embedded clause, as in Example (1) above. The tte complement clause consists of the reported utterance plus quotative tte, followed by the main clause. The original speaker of the reported utterance is either explicitly introduced, or is easily identifiable in the context. Consider Example (4):
(4) Kooichi, a male student, is talking with his friend from school, Nobuo. Kooichi asks Nobuo about the name of a male student who acted strangely in front of them a few days ago:
1 K: sora konoaida mo interj the.other.day also 2 boku ga shokudoo de chawan ga nai tte itta toki, I nom cafeteria at bowl nom neg tte say:pst when ‘(You know) when I said I couldn’t find my bowl in the cafeteria the other day,’ 3
sora mottekitekureta yatsu sa, interj bring:come:give fellow ptcl ‘It’s the guy who brought it (for me),’
4
sonotoki kimi o mite shikkei tte ittaroo then you acc look excuse me tte say:pst:tag ‘Then (he) looked at you and said “Excuse me” right?’
5 N: un wakatta aitsu wa tazaki yes see:pst that.guy top name ‘Yeah, I got it. His name is Tazaki.’
(Satsuki no koi (1888))
Line 2 is a temporal clause, within which we find the reported thought in tte construction followed by the verb of saying. Line 4 is an instance of independent clause, including the reported speech (shikkei ‘excuse me’) in tte construction, followed by the verb of saying. Therefore, the first type of construction with tte can be schematized as in (5):
(5)
Original speaker + [utterance +tte] + main clause with a ‘say’ verb (Zero=Tazaki) shikkei tte itta
In some cases, what gets introduced by tte is not the exact utterance, but rather a summary of someone’s utterance, as in Example (6) below. Bunzoo lives in his
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uncle Magobei’s house and is fond of Magobei’s daughter, Osei. Osei’s friendly attitude and words confuse Bunzoo. (6–1) The night before, Bunzoo was about to confess to Osei that he loves her, saying:6 Bunzoo: oseisan, anata mo anmari da, anmari...zankoku da, name you emph terrible cop too.much cruel cop watashi ga kore... korehodomadeni... I nom this this.much ‘Osei-san, you are terrible (to do this to me). (You) are too... cruel. (You know) I (like you) so much...’ Bunzoo cannot finish what he wanted to tell her and runs out of the room. The following morning, Bunzoo feels shy and avoids talking to Osei, but she comes to his room upstairs and asks him: (6-2) → Osei: watashi ga zankoku da tte I nom cruel cop tte taihen okotteirashitta ga, very angry.stat:pol:pst but nani ga zankoku desu no. what nom cruel cop ptcl ‘(You) were very angry (with me) (saying) that I am cruel, but what (about me) is cruel?’ (Ukigumo (1887)) Example (6–2) is different from Example (4), because watashi ga zankoku da ‘I am cruel’, the part preceding tte, is taken as Osei’s summary of what Bunzoo said about her, rather than reporting the utterance made by Bunzoo the night before shown in (6–1). Notice in Bunzoo’s “original” utterance in (6–1), he uses the second person pronoun anata towards Osei. So Osei’s closer-to-authentic reproduction of Bunzoo’s utterance would look like “anata ga zankokuda” tte taihen okotteirashita ((You) were angry (with me) (saying) “you are cruel”). In Osei’s utterance in (6–2), the personal pronoun watashi ‘I’ turns the entire clause (watashi ga zankoku da ‘I am cruel’) into a description. Tte in Example (6–2) thus can be viewed as forming an adverbial clause of manner, describing the way in which Bunzoo was angry. Example (6–2) shows that the function of tte as a quotative expands to cover not only reported speech but also description based on someone’s utterance, thus more indirect in nature. The ‘main verb’ iu ‘say’ is missing but the meaning ‘say’ persists in tte itself, and at the same time, the range of main verbs following the adverbial tte clause expands: It is not limited to verbs of saying, but includes verbs describing mental states, such as okoru ‘get angry/upset’, yorokobu ‘be pleased’, ochikomu ‘get 6. The descriptive part is a summary by me. The conversational parts are from the original novel.
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
depressed’ and so on. The following is a schematization of (6), as a more general use of tte in an adverbial clause:
(7)
4.2
Original speaker + [summary of utterance + tte] + main clause 0 (you=Bunzoo) watashi ga zankoku da tte okotterashita ‘(You) were angry (with me) (saying) that I am cruel.’
Tte clause as independent clause: Quotative tte in utterance-final positions
Let us now turn to the instances of tte found in utterance-final positions. In the early data of the 1830s and 1880s, there are three types of constructions in which the quotative tte occurs in utterance-final position. 4.2.1 Type A [Utterance + tte]: The 2nd pair part of a question-answer sequence Type A is an instance of an utterance-final tte in a question-answer sequence. Among the total of four tokens in the data from the 1830’s, i.e., the earliest instances of tte in the written conversational data, three appear in response to a question. Observe (8):
(8) Conversation between Yoiyoi, who has palsy, and a young man in front of the public bath. When asked how he is, Yoiyoi replies that his legs are fine. He says he ran to his aunt’s place to help her when there was a fire in the area.
1 Yoiyoi: hataetaa. hataetaa. omotama hataetaa. work:pst work:pst a.lot work:pst obatan ometa, obatan hometaa.7 aunt praise.pst aunt praise.pst ‘(I) worked and worked. Auntie was thankful. Auntie was thankful.’ 2 Young man: nante tte hometa. what say praise ‘What did she say to thank/praise (you)?’ 3→ Yoiyoi:
ee dejobu da tte dejobu da tte. fil brave.man cop tte brave.man cop tte ‘“brave man” “brave man” (she said).
4
sunjaa sankinokonpiyatamee, konpiyatamee then place.name place.name
7. Yoiyoi’s words are repetitive and his pronunciation is childlike. This is the author (Shikitei Sanba)’s way of portraying Yoiyoi’s palsy.
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5→ odeme ni ika, ikaa, ikadee tte thank.visit to go tte ‘“(We should) go to Konpira Shrine in Sanuki to thank God” (she said.)’ (Ukiyoburo (1809)) As indicated in the arrowed lines 3 and 5, the aunt’s words are quoted and accompanied by tte. Notice that in line 2, the main verb itte appears as tte with the initial vowel contracted. 8 Therefore, the second pair part, i.e., Yoiyoi’s answer, does not contain the main verb ‘say,’ but it is clear that Yoiyoi’s answer refers to what the aunt said. These are the earliest instances of the utterance-final reportative use of tte. Let us consider another instance from a novel from the late 1800s: (9) Mother: hakama wa itsu dekiagaru to ittai? hakama top when ready quo say:pst ‘Did (the kimono shop) say when the hakama (=formal skirt) will be ready?’ Oyuki: asatte wa zehi the.day.after.tomorrow top definitely → dekiagarimasu tte... ready tte “The day after tomorrow (it) will definitely be ready (the shop said).” (Otomegokoro (1889)) The tte construction in Oyuki’s utterance constitutes the response in this questionanswer sequence. The final tte in Oyuki’s utterance introduces the utterance by the kimono shop personnel. The polite masu ending instead of the plain form dekiagaru contributes to the authenticity (‘verbatim-ness’) of the original utterance. The tte clause is not followed by any main verb because it is already expressed in the preceding question by Oyuki’s mother (i.e., ittai? ‘did (they) say’). It is interesting that the writer uses three dots to convey the impression of Oyuki’s utterance as including an implication left hanging. 4.2.2 Type B: Original Speaker + [Utterance + tte] The next type of utterance-final tte construction is shown in Example (10) below: (10) Elder Sis: kinchan nani o shite iru nda nee name what acc do stat nom:cop ptcl 8. Based on the Chinese character and kana characters alongside it indicating pronunciation used in this particular clause, I take tte here to be a contraction of the gerundive form itte of the verb iu ‘to say.’ I treat this tte as different from the quotative tte in the following lines by Yoiyoi, which is assigned a different Chinese character.
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
hayaku kikaete oshimai yo fast change.clothes finish ptcl
→ sooshite koto no osarai o ohajime and Japanese.harp gen practice acc pol:start tte okkasan ga ... tte mother nom ‘“Kin-chan, what are you doing? Change quickly and practice the harp,” Mom (says).’ Kinko: hai ima... yes now ‘Yes (I will).’ (Satsuki no koi (1888)) The characteristic of Type B is that we do not find any ‘main’ clause (including a ‘main’ verb) either preceding or following this dialog. However, in Type B, the original speaker is explicitly indicated (e.g., okkasan ‘mother’), or is easily identifiable from the previous discourse. Therefore, in this type, an instance of tte is used in order to frame the preceding portion as a reported utterance.9 4.2.3 Type C [Utterance + tte]: Immediate (partial) repetition of the interlocutor’s previous utterance In Types A and B, what was said plays an integral part in the independent clause ending with tte. As for Type C, not only what was said, but also how it was said by the interlocutor, seems to matter, since this is the most emotionally loaded type. Consider Example (11): (11) Heme: ohamasan wa, mada kimaranai kai. name top yet decide.neg q.ptcl ‘Hasn’t Ohamasan decided?’ → Denkichi: kimaranai tte. decide.neg tte ‘“(lit.) Hasn’t decided”?’/‘What do you mean by “Hasn’t decided”?’ Heme: dokoka e oyome ni ikinasaru n somewhere to bride to go.polite nmz
9. As it happens with many novels published around this period, the reported speech is not always bracketed with the quotation marks in the original. Accordingly, the beginning of the quoted part (i.e., mother’s utterance) is not clear in this excerpt (though the ending is clear because tte is expected right after). The reported utterance here could be the entire utterance preceding tte, or could be koto no osarai o ohajime ‘start the harp practice.’
Ryoko Suzuki
jaa nai kane. cop:top neg ptcl ‘Isn’t (she) going somewhere to get married?’ (Hemeden (1895))
Beginning in the late 1800s, we find instances in which the speaker immediately repeats back the preceding speaker’s (i.e. the interlocutor’s) utterance. This often happens in contexts in which the speaker did not understand the meaning or import of an utterance (as in the above example), and is taken as a request directed to the prior speaker to elaborate his/her utterance. So in (11), Heme’s second utterance is a paraphrase of what he originally meant by kimaranai ‘hasn’t decided.’ Immediate repetition also occurs when the speaker does not understand the intention of the preceding speaker, or when the speaker immediately reacts with an expression of surprise having either an implication of ‘why-ask-the-obvious’ or of ‘non-acceptance/rejection’ of the preceding utterance (Suzuki R. 2007). In other words, Type C differs from Types A and B in that it is not a genuine, neutral quotative; rather, it seems to have developed into an independent construction. The evidence for this is that (a) there is no indication of the original speaker; (b) often, there is no verb of saying accompanying tte in the surrounding context; and (c) the construction is associated with particular types of speaker’s reactions, e.g., a request for an elaboration or expressions of surprise or rejection, which shape the following utterance, as we saw in (11), for example, where after Denkichi’s utterance with the final-tte, Heme elaborates his question. 4.2.4 Distribution of each type of tte We have seen that even the early data from the 1830s and the 1880s show that there are instances of utterance-final tte. In other words, the “full version” of the complementizer tte accompanied by a main clause (Examples 1 and 4 and Section 4.1) is not the only syntactic pattern that we find in the early data. We have seen that when reporting someone else’s (or the speaker’s own) prior utterance, tte can appear in utterance-final position in three types of syntactic environments. First, tte occurs utterance-finally as an answer to the information question ‘what did X say’ (Type A). Since the main verb of saying is explicit in the question, the response is not accompanied by a main clause. This type can be viewed as “elliptical.” Next, we find an utterance-final tte, accompanied by the originator of the utterance (Type B). This is directly related to the “reportive” final particle discussed in Okamoto (1995: 239). The origin of the information is not always explicitly stated. Lastly, an independent clause ending with tte is found when the speaker immediately repeats what the prior speaker has just uttered (Type C). The identity of the original speaker is clear, so it need not be mentioned. The verb of saying is not typically mentioned either, since the utterance itself is at issue.
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
Table 1.╇ The quotative tte constructions in the 1800s the 1830s
the 1880s
1
15
utterance-medial (dependent tte clause)
tte complement followed by the main clause
utterance-final (independent tte clause)
Type A 2nd pair part of a Q-A sequence (+verb of saying in 1st pair part)
3
â•⁄ 4
Type B introducing utterance (+original speaker indication)
0
11
Type C immediate repetition of the prior speaker’s utterance
0
13
Table 1 shows the token counts of dependent tte clause and independent tte clause. Clearly, for Types A through C (utterance-final tte without any following main clause), the 1880s data show greater variation in the types of utterance-final tte construction than the 1830s data: Given the small number of tokens from the 1800s, it would not be appropriate to make a direct linkage between the utterance-final uses in the early data and the utterance-final pragmatic particles that we see in the 20th century. However, these data clearly illustrate that utterance-final tte without any accompanying main clause, used with several different interactional motivations, is robustly found in the earliest data available. 5. Final remarks Introducing someone’s utterance to the addressee is an interactional act. The evolution of tte and the related constructions over the last 160 years show that tte does not simply mark an utterance as ‘reported speech,’ but rather indicates how the speaker frames, presents, and evaluates an utterance or thought for the addressee. Numerous studies in functional linguistics and conversation analysis show that participants produce utterances collaboratively in natural conversation. Through an investigation of quotative constructions involving tte, we now see that participants make use of multiple constructions using this one morpheme in a
Ryoko Suzuki
variety of contexts. Hence the hypothesis that the tte clause as a dependent clause historically precedes the independent-clause counterpart is not supported by the data, and needs to be reconsidered. Looking at the relationship between the dependent-clause construction and the independent-clause construction (Types A through C), we could take a more cognitive approach: following Okamoto (1995) on tte, we could say that the main clause is omitted through reanalysis and conventionalization of speech act meanings, presumably through frequent use. From this perspective, the utterance-medial complementizer tte could be claimed to be reanalyzed as an utterance-final modality marker. In this study, I suggest a more interactionally oriented view: the interactional practices with which tte is associated result in tte occurring both in utterancemedial and utterance-final positions, even in the early stages of the emergence of tte. These specific communicative practices, such as offering information, clarification, asking for elaboration etc., are frequently associated with tte, and may feed into the emergence of utterance-final tte as an independent syntactic construction. I hope to have shown that the syntactic development of tte is not simply from a bound clause to an independent clause. Interactional practices, as well as the syntax involved in the practices, need to be carefully examined. The early data on tte is thus messier, richer and more interesting than expected. Acknowledgements My deepest gratitude goes to Ritva Laury for her constant support and encouragement. I am grateful to Pat Clancy and Sandy Thompson for their valuable discussions and comments to the earlier version of this paper, and to the panelists and the audience at the tenth International Pragmatics Conference in 2007 for their stimulating discussions. Thanks are also due to Maggie Camp for proofreading. None of them is responsible for any shortcomings of this paper. Abbreviations ACC COMP COP EMPH FIL GEN
accusative complementizer copula emphatic filler genitive
The emergence of quotative constructions in Japanese
INTERJ NEG NMZ NOM POL PRG PST PTCL Q QUO STAT TOP
interjection negative nominalizer nominative polite progressive past particle question quotative stative topic
Text references 1809. Ukiyoburo, by Shikitei Sanba. Nihon koten bungaku taikei 63 (1957). Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1887. Ukigumo, by Futabatei Shimei. Gendai nihon bungaku taikei 1 (1971). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo. 1888. Satsuki no koi, by Iwaya Sazanami. Meiji bungaku zenshuu 20 (1968). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo. 1889. Otomegokoro, by Ishibashi Shian. Meiji bungaku zenshuu 22 (1969). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo. 1895. Hemeden, by Hirotsu Ryuuroo. Gendai nihon bungaku taikei 3 (1970). Tokyo: Chikuma Shoboo.
References Barth-Weingarten, Dagmar and Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth. 2002. “On the development of final though: A case of grammaticalization?” In New Reflections on Grammaticalization, Ilse Wischer, and Gabriele Diewalds, (eds), 345–361. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Bybee, Joan. 2003. “Mechanisms of change in grammaticization: The role of frequency.” In Handbook of Historical Linguistics, Richard D. Janda and Brian D. Joseph (eds), 602–623. Oxford: Blackwell. Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth and Ono, Tsuyoshi (eds). 2007. Turn Continuation in Cross-linguistic Perspective [Pragmatics 17.4]. Antwerp: International Pragmatics Association. Englebretson, Robert (ed.). 2007. Stancetaking in Discourse: Subjectivity, Evaluation, Interaction. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Heine, Bernd and Kuteva, Tania. 2002. World Lexicon of Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Ryoko Suzuki Higashiizumi, Yuko. 2006. From a Subordinate Clause to an Independent Clause: A History of English Because-clause and Japanese Kara-clause. Tokyo: Hituzi Shobo Publishing. Hopper, Paul J. and Traugott, Elizabeth C. 2003. Grammaticalization (2nd ed.). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mulder, Jean and Thompson, Sandra A. 2006. “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/proceedings/als2005/mulderthompson.pdf. Mulder, Jean and Thompson, Sandra A. 2008. “The grammaticization of but as a final particle in English conversation.” In Ritva Laury (ed.), Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining: the Multifunctionality of Conjunctions, 179–204. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Nakayama, Toshihide and Ichihashi-Nakayama, Kumiko. 1997. “Japanese kedo: Discourse genre and grammaticization.” In Ho-min Song and John Haig (eds), Japanese/Korean Linguistics 6: 607–618. Stanford: CSLI Publications. Nihon Kokugo Daijiten (NKD) [The dictionary of the Japanese language] (2nd ed.). 1972–76. Tokyo: Shogakkan. Ochs, Elinor, Emanuel A. Schegloff, and Sandra A. Thompson (eds). 1996. Interaction and Grammar. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ohori, Toshio. 1995. “Remarks on suspended clauses: A contribution to Japanese phraseology.” Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In Honor of Charles J. Fillmore, Masayoshi Shibatani and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 201–218. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ohori, Toshio. 1997. “Framing effects in Japanese non-final clauses: Toward and optimal grammar-pragmatics interface.” Berkeley Linguistics Society 23: 471–480. Okamoto, Shigeko. 1995. “Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese.” Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics: In Honor of Charles J. Fillmore, Masayoshi Shibatani and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 219–246. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Okamoto, Shigeko and Ono, Tsuyoshi. 2008. “Quotative -tte in Japanese: Its multifaceted functions and degrees of ‘subordination.’ In Ritva Laury (ed.), Crosslinguistic Sudies of Clause Combining: the Multifunctionality of Conjunctions, 205–230. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Selting, Margret and Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth (eds). 2001. Studies in Interactional Linguistics, 287–215. John Benjamins. Amsterdam. Suzuki, Ryoko. 1999a. “Mutifuncitonality: The developmental path of the quotative tte in Japanese.” Cognition and Function in Language, Barbara A. Fox, Dan Jurafsky, Laura A. Michaelis (eds). Stanford, CA: CSLI Publications, 50–64. Suzuki, Ryoko. 1999b. Grammaticization in Japanese: A Study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Suzuki, Ryoko. 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, Satoko. 1998. “Tte and nante: Markers of psychological distance in Japanese conversation.” Journal of Pragmatics 29: 429–462. Suzuki, Satoko. 2001. “Self-mockery in Japanese.” Linguistics 40(1): 163–189. Thompson, Sandra A. and Anthony Mulac. 1991. “A quantitative perspective on the grammaticization of epistemic parentheticals in English.” In Approaches to Grammaticalization, Elizabeth C. Traugott and Bernd Heine (eds), vol 2: 313–329. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Traugott, Elizabeth C. and Richard B. Dasher. 2005. Regularity in Semantic Change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Clines of subordination – constructions with the German ‘complementtaking predicate’ glauben* Wolfgang Imo The German “complement-taking predicate” (Thompson/Mulac 1984, 1991) glauben occurs in a number of different syntactic constructions. For example, it can be realized as part of a matrix clause followed by a subordinate clause with or without a complementizer. As the term “complement-taking predicate” suggests, these matrix constructions should be expected to be the standard ones with glauben. An empirical study of the uses of glauben in spoken German reveals, though, that the majority of all cases involving glauben are hybrid constructions resembling modal particles or adverbs. With those instances of glauben, a new construction is about to be grammaticalized into a kind of epistemic qualifier. The process of this reanalysis is not yet finished, resulting in constructions that cannot be allocated to any conventional category such as matrix clause or modal particle.
1. Introduction The German ‘complement-taking predicate’ (Thompson/Mulac 1984, 1991) glauben (‘to believe’ / ‘to think’) can be used in a wide variety of syntactic constructions. For example, it can be realized within a matrix clause which is followed by a complementizer and a subordinate clause. According to valence-based entries in dictionaries (e.g. the “Valenzwörterbuch deutscher Verben” (Schumacher et al. 2004: 429f)), this type of construction is usually regarded as the standard one for German complement-taking predicates. The following transcript (which is transcribed according to the GAT-conventions developed by Selting et al. (1998)) illustrates precisely such a case where the verb glauben is used within a matrix clause which is then followed by the complementizer dass (‘that’) and a subordinate clause. The conversation between two friends (W and H) is taking place in a car while they are visiting their friends
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on Christmas Eve (because of the length of the transcripts I will only give a condensed English translation that tries to stay as closely to the original as possible): (1) Example 1 private conversation in a car 2056 W deine ELtern gehen nich in die kIrche? your parents don’t go to church? 2057 H NE:. no:. 2058 (0.5) 2059 W .hh des WUNdert mich irgendwie. I’m surprised to hear that. 2060 (1.0) 2061 H NE:. no:. 2062 machen se NET, they don’t do it, 2063 → wobei ich nich glaub (.) dass ses aus überZEUgung nich machen sondern weils halt dann halt (noch) zu wenig lUscht oder (.) zu fAUl oder sOnschtwas sin; though I don’t think (.) that they don’t do it because they are convinced of not going but because in the end they’ve too little interest or they are too lazy or whatever; 2064 also sie sin schon potentielle .hh WEIHnachtskirchen╉ kandidaten. well in fact they are potential .hh Christmas-church candidates. After W expresses his surprise at H’s statement that his parents do not go to church on Christmas (line 2059), H starts to provide an explanation for his claim. In line 2063 he does not credit his parents with a conscious decision against going to church but claims the reason is just laziness. H introduces his utterance by a matrix clause (wobei ich nich glaub ‘though I don’t think’), which places the following subordinate utterance under the modalizing scope of glauben. Some remarks on the concept of subordination are needed in order to understand German syntactic patterns. Subordination refers to the fact that one clause syntactically relies on another. In German, there are two main ways of marking subordination, which are usually combined: the use of a subordinating conjunction and the placement of the finite verb at the end of the subordinate clause. The latter structure is reserved for subordinate clauses only (except for a rather rare type of optative sentences, which cannot be combined with matrix clauses, such as Wenn es doch morgen nur regnen würde. lit.: ‘If it tomorrow only rain would.’) and is therefore a very strong marker of subordination. Many
Clines of subordination
subordinating conjunctions in German (such as weil ‘because’ or obwohl ‘although’) can also occur with a main clause structure (finite verb in second position) and are much weaker markers of subordination. Freywald (2008) even showed that it is not uncommon to use the subordinating conjunction dass (‘that’) together with a verbsecond main clause in spoken German, a construction nobody had thought probable before. So there is a choice of the following structures: a. Main clause plus subjunction plus subordinate clause: Ich glaube, dass es heute regnen wird. lit.: ‘I think that it today rain will.’ b. Main clause plus subjunction plus main clause: Ich glaube, dass es wird heute regnen. lit.: ‘I think that it will today rain.’ c. Main clause plus main clause: Ich glaube, es wird heute regnen. lit.: ‚I think it will today rain.’ In example c, the concept of subordination already becomes problematic because syntactically, the main clause is no longer dependent on the matrix clause. Nevertheless, there is some syntactic connection left, which is revealed by a reformulation into the matrix clause-plus-subordinate clause structure, which does not change the meaning of the sentence. Auer (1998) proposes the term abhängiger Hauptsatz (‘dependent main clause’) for these structures to highlight their oscillation between dependence and autonomy. To return to the discussion of Example 1, the subordinating syntactic structure has the effect of marking the following explanation of H merely as a surmise, not as certain knowledge. By using the constructional pattern of placing a subordinate clause under the scope of a matrix clause containing glauben, H hedges his utterance as being based on his personal and possibly biased opinion rather than on certain knowledge. This way of using glauben is quite typical for written German (exempting computer-mediated communication), where the prescriptive effect of grammars has a strong hold. Data from spoken German quickly reveal, though, that matrix clauses with complementizers are not often used in actual spoken interaction. In the data I analyzed (see Section 2) there occurred 169 instances of glauben, of which a mere 22 were realized together with a subordinate clause (for a more detailed analysis of the different constructions glauben is used with, see Imo 2006 and 2007a). The example cited above actually shows the only common way in spoken German to use glauben as part of a matrix clause which is then followed by a subordinate clause introduced by a complementizer. This structure is used whenever the matrix clause containing glauben is negated (see Auer 1998). According to Auer (1998: 293f) this can be explained by the fact that when the matrix clause is negated, it is asserted and highlighted relative to the presupposed subordinate clause. In other words: When a matrix clause is negated, according to Auer (1998), it becomes more salient than the following subordinate clause. If, on the other hand, the matrix clause is not negated,
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it is usually treated as less salient and important and thus as presupposed relative to the following (subordinate) clause. The combination of matrix clause and subordinate clause therefore always codes relative levels of saliency. In most of the cases where (positive) matrix clauses with glauben are produced in spoken German, they are realized with a following main clause (as Auer’s (1998) and Imo’s (2007a) data show), indicating that there is little need in spoken interaction for a construction that places a high level of salience on a matrix clause. While Auer (1998) uses the term “salience” to refer to the differences between the construction of a matrix clause followed by a subordinate clause (e.g. Ich glaube, dass es heute regnen wird. lit.: ‘I believe that it today rain will’), in comparison to a matrix clause followed by a main clause (Ich glaube, es wird heute regnen. lit.: ‘I believe it will today rain’), I would prefer the concept of profile determinacy (Langacker 1987: 288) to capture the phenomenon. For complex constructions, Langacker assumes that one component usually carries the main information (or meaning). This is called the “profile”, which is “maximally prominent and can be thought of as a kind of focal point” of a predication. In complex constructions, profiles are inherited: For the most part, a composite structure simply inherits the profile of one of its components. The component structure whose profile is inherited will be termed the profile determinant of the construction. (Langacker 1987: 289)
If someone utters a sentence such as Ich glaube, dass es heute regnen wird. (lit.: ‘I think that it today rain will’), the profile determinant should be Ich glaube (‘I think’), while in Ich glaube, es wird heute regnen. (lit.: ‘I think it will today rain’), the profile determinant should be es wird heute regnen (‘it will today rain’). In Langacker’s (1991: 436) terms, a subordinate clause is “describable as one whose profile is overridden by that of a main clause”. The analysis in terms of profile determinacy allows for a less ambiguous and more universal concept than the rather vague notion of salience, as it can draw on Langacker’s (1987) elaborate application of the idea, including a classification of profile types and inheritance relations. Langacker (1987: 292) especially stresses that the identification of a profile determinant is by no means a mechanical process but depends on a lot of factors – contextual information above all:1 As a general matter, it is somewhat inaccurate to regard the composite structure as being constructed out of its components [...]. It is more appropriate to say that the component structures motivate aspects of the composite structure, and that the degree of motivation is variable.
For example, the more formal a speech situation becomes, the more likely it will be that speakers use a subordinate structure instead of a main clause following the 1. For a newer and more detailed analysis with a special focus on subordination in Cognitive Grammar, see Langacker (2009: 327–340).
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matrix clause (see Imo 2007a). This context-dependent variability of syntactic constructions ties in with conceptualizations of grammar as an emergent phenomenon, as proposed by Hopper (e.g. 1998). In his view, grammar is not a more or less permanently fixed code but is shaped and re-shaped continually to fit into specific – and always changing – contexts according to the needs of the interactants. The phrases glaub(e) ich2 and ich glaub(e) provide a good illustration of this variability or emergence of grammar. It is almost impossible to provide fixed constructions or patterns that can account for all of the instances of glauben, because in many cases, as will be shown, several constructions seem to overlap and be activated at the same time. From the point of view of a dialogically oriented grammarian, phrases with glauben can therefore be treated as evidence for Hopper’s (2004: 1) assumption of open grammatical constructions: Grammar is an epiphenomenon of frequent combinations of constructions. Because grammar is a result of interactions rather than a prerequisite to them, it is not a fixed code but is caught up in a continual process of local adaption (emergence).
In the following analysis I will try to show that phrases with glauben are indeed an example of a fragmentary grammar in which profile structures as well as constructions are on a flow to create all kinds of instances of amalgamated uses. Matrix clauses, discourse markers, modal particles, modal adverbs and increments all contribute aspects of meaning and function that are needed for the interactants to make sense of actual utterances containing the verb glauben. 2. The data The data that provide the basis for this analysis consist of approximately 30 hours of spoken German including radio phone-in programmes, radio interviews and informal conversations between family members and friends (mostly students). The data cover different German-speaking regions (Brandenburg, North Rhine-Westphalia, Thuringia, Bavaria, Baden-Wuerttemberg, Austria and Switzerland) and are part of the database of spoken German of Susanne Günthner (University of Münster). They were transcribed according to the GAT conventions (Selting et al. 1998). The audio material was searched for all forms of the verb glauben except those with the semantic content of “believing in God”. Although glauben literally has to be translated with to believe, it is often used as an equivalent of to think, in spite of the fact that there is another German verb, denken, which also means to think. Because of this ambiguity I will translate glauben with to believe/think. 2. In spoken German, the verb-final schwa marking the 1st person is usually not pronounced.
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The aim of my search was to give a full description of all of the constructions glauben is used with in ordinary everyday talk (for a comprehensive analysis see Imo 2007a). The total sum of all phrases with the verb glauben amounted to 169 instances. The following table gives a ranking oriented to aspects of the temporal and personal deixis of glauben. The verb glauben most often occurs in the 1st person singular present tense (156 of 169 cases, i.e. more than 92%). This is the usual distribution of many verba sentiendi et dicendi in spoken German (Imo 2007a), which usually refer to the deictic centre of I-here-now. Furthermore, the 1st person singular present tense phrases ich glaub(e) (‘I think’) and the inverted form glaub(e) ich (lit.: ‘think I’) occur so often and with such special functions that they can be said to have an almost formula-like quality (see also Thompson/Mulac (1984, 1991) for a more general discussion of this quality of complement-taking predicates (CTPs)). While the phrase ich glaub(e) – with the predicate following the subject – is most common, a very substantial number of instances are realized in the inverted form glaub(e) ich (lit.: ‘think I’), with the subject following the predicate. When the order of predicate and subject is inverted in German, such a phrase cannot be placed in front of an utterance but only within or after utterances. There is a division of work between utterance-initial phrases consisting of subject and verb (Ich glaub das wird nichts. ‘I think/believe that won’t work’) and utterance-medial and final phrases consisting of verb and subject (Das wird glaub ich nichts. lit.: ‘That won’t believe I work’ and Das wird nichts glaub ich. lit.: ‘That won’t work believe I’). Whether it is still possible to analyze the phrase with glauben as having a subordinate clause within its scope when it is embedded in the subordinate clause or follows it will be discussed in Section 4. In the following section I will first look at instances of the non-inverted form ich glaub(e) (‘I think’), asking whether they can indeed be classified as matrix clauses or, rather, as some kind of “markers” or “CTP phrases” in the terminology of Thompson/Mulac (1984, 1991; see also Thompson (2002) and Thompson/Hopper (2008)). Table 1.╇ Distribution of glauben in terms of deixis 1st person singular present tense (ich glaub(e) ‘I think’) 1st person singular present tense (inversion: glaub(e) ich ‘think I’) glaub (‘think’) without a personal pronoun (i.e. subject) others (2nd and 3rd persons, plural forms, future and past forms)
78 71 â•⁄ 7 13
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3. From matrix clause to discourse marker In his study of matrix clauses, Auer (1998) argues that the difference between whether a main clause or a subordinate clause follows the matrix clause can be explained in terms of salience. In Langacker’s (1987) terms, the profile determinant in these cases is changed from the matrix clause towards the dependent clause. The following two examples show typical uses of glauben with a following main clause in spoken German. The changed profile structure of the matrix clause immediately becomes obvious in these two instances. Example 2 is taken from a private family conversation (the daughter T has just discovered ants crawling around, which is a very unexpected event as the conversation is taking place in winter). In Example 3, two student friends are designing an invitation to a barbecue party on their computer, trying to work out the directions for getting to the location of the party. (2) Example 2 family conversation 47 T Ameisen im winter. ants in winter. 48 → ich glaub ich SPINN. I think I’m crazy. 49 (3.0) (3) Example 3 private conversation between students 253 A wie schreibt man eigentlich torMINbrücke; (1.0) how does one spell Tormin-Bridge; 254 B ich kenn den ausdruck erst seitdem du den verwendest. I know this expression only after you’ve started to use it. 255 A → ich glaub ich guck mal aufm STADT[plan. ] I think I will look it up on the map. 256 B [ich hab] hier n STADTplan; I’ve got a map here; In the data I searched I could find very few instances of matrix clauses with glauben followed by an independent main clause where the transformation of the post-positioned main clause into a subordinate clause (involving a subordinate conjunction and the obligatory shift of the finite verb from the second position typical for German main clauses to the final position necessary for subordinate clauses) would be unproblematic. In other words, it is quite uncommon that the difference between the construction [matrix clause + subordinate clause] and [matrix clause + main
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clause]3 only rests in the higher or lower profile of the matrix clause in relation to the following (subordinate or main) clause. Usually, such a transformation would seem decidedly odd or would even create a wrong or absurd meaning, i.e. involving not just a shift in perceptual profile but also in the semantics of the utterance. Examples 2 and 3 illustrate this point: If one were to transform the utterances in lines 48 and 255 into matrix clauses with following subordinate clauses (Ich glaube, dass ich spinne. ‘I believe/think that I am crazy’; Ich glaube, dass ich auf der Karte nachschaue. ‘I believe/think that I will look it up on the map’), the matrix clause would become much too prominent in German, a consequence of being marked as the profile determinant of the combined clause. Both cases illustrated above are typical for the uses of glauben in spoken interaction insofar as the matrix clause usually does not carry much information on a presuppositional basis. In most instances, speakers do not explicitly state what they think or believe (i.e., they do not place much stress on the matrix clause) but rather use short phrases to modalize one of their utterances and mark it as an exaggeration, a proposal, an offer or a conjecture. In Example 2, the speaker expresses her astonishment at seeing living ants in winter. She is not crazy, nor does she believe she is. The phrase “ich glaub ich SPINN” (‘I think I’m crazy’) in Example 2, line 48, is in fact a conventionalized and routinized formula for expressing disbelief or sometimes disbelief coupled with anger. The fact that such a construction [matrix clause + following main clause]4 has become sedimented into an idiomatic expression is revealing because it shows that matrix constructions are open to reinterpretation and can easily be used as building blocks to construct phrases which are working on an interactional level, expressing – as is the case here – speaker stance, rather than being used with a full propositional content. In Example 3, the combination of the phrase with glauben and the following clause does not constitute a fixed formula. Nevertheless, it, too, cannot be interpreted in such a way that glauben carries a full semantic load. Instead, “ich glaub” (line 255) serves as a kind of pragmatic marker or discourse marker,5 framing the 3. To facilitate the recognition of complex constructional patterns in the text I will place all constructions (ranging from word to sentence level) in square brackets. For a discussion of different types of constructions see Croft (2002: 17). 4. In a broad sense, the first part can still be interpreted as a matrix clause because ich glaub (‘I believe/think’) is not complete on its own and it is still possible to ask after the complement, as in What do you believe?. 5. A number of terms have been proposed for those small words or phrases which are placed in front of an utterance and have pragmatic (i.e. textual or interpersonal) functions: “Pragmatic markers” (Brinton 1998), “discourse markers/Diskursmarker” (Auer/Günthner 2005, Fraser 1990, Gohl/Günthner 1999, Lenk 1998, Schiffrin 1987), “operators” (Barden 1998, Barden/Elstermann/Fiehler 2001), “pragmatic expressions” (Erman 1987), “discourse particles” (Kroon 1995, 1998, Schourup 1985) and “pre-front-field expressions” (Thim-Mabrey 1988).
Clines of subordination
following clause as a proposal or an offer. Speaker A cannot plausibly use glauben in the context of Example 3 to describe an action she is going to undertake because she knows what she will do next. The phrase rather serves as a “gambit” which acts as a “discourse lubricant” in the terms of Edmondson/House (1981: 69). If one were to transform the main clause into a subordinate clause, the quality of the “gambit” would be lost in favour of the full semantic meaning of glauben (‘to believe’), which would then imply that the speaker utters a belief about her next action – which would clearly sound absurd and would imply that the speaker has no control over her own intentions and actions. The two examples presented here show that while matrix clauses with following subordinate clauses and those with following main clauses are somehow related, it is not possible simply to transform Examples 2 and 3 into matrix clauses with following subordinate clauses. Elmauer (1973: 169f), for example, claims that in German it is always possible to transform a matrix clause with a following main clause into a matrix clause with a following subordinate clause, using dass (‘that’) or ob (‘if ’) as subordinating conjunctions. In much the same vein, Helbig/Buscha (2001: 566; my translation) state: “Subordinate clauses without complementizers are equivalent to those with complementizers and the former can be transformed into the latter by eliminating the conjunction and changing the position of the finite verb”. Auer (1998: 285; my translation) is more cautious about categorizing what he calls dependent main clauses as object complements of verbs, he merely treats them as “object clauses belonging to verbs which are not saturated in terms of their valence”. With this position he avoids problematic claims about the possibilities of interchanging the constructional patterns of [matrix clause + main clause] and [matrix clause + subordinate clause]. Neither Ich glaube, dass ich spinne (‘I think/believe that I am crazy’) nor Ich glaube, dass ich mal auf dem Stadtplan gucke (‘I think/believe that I will look it up on the map’) make much sense and both would yield a strikingly different meaning from the actual utterances of the speakers in Examples 2 and 3. 4. From matrix clause to increment In the previous section, phrases with glauben were analyzed which are placed utterance-initially and follow the internal constructional schema [subject(ich) + verb(glaube)]. Almost as common as this pattern is the constructional schema [verb(glaube) + subject(ich)], where the order of subject and predicate is inverted. Phrases following this pattern can be used either within utterances (where they occur most often) or at the end of an utterance. The following three examples illustrate varieties of utterance-final placement of glaub(e) ich.
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Example 4 is taken from a radio interview. In the transcript presented here, the radio host interrupts his questioning routine because he thinks that the mobile phone of one of his guests is ringing. Example 5 is taken from the popular German radio phone-in talk show “Domian”. A caller is chatting with the host Domian (D) about his experiences as a porn actor. Example 6 is taken from a private conversation between university students. Speaker S is describing his problems finding both a suitable topic and enough material for an essay he has to write. (4) Example 4 radio interview 18 N eh herr KOLLmanntaler, .hh erm Mr. Kollmanntaler, .hh 19 ehm (0.5) die eh erm (0.5) the erm 20 aber das IS irgendwas; but that is something; 21 n geRÄUSCH, a sound, 22 aus ihrem (.) moBILtelefon; from your mobile phone; 23 → glaub ich. I think. (lit.: think I) (5) Example 5 radio phone-in “Domian” 91 D also ist der begriff GANG bang schon gut getroffen, so the term gang bang fits quite well, 92 ne, doesn’t it, 93 wenn von mir if from me 94 A BITte? sorry? 95 D ich SAGte dann ist der begriff gang bang → SCHON ganz gut getroffen glaub ich. I said then the term gang bang fits quite well I think. (lit.: think I) (6) Example 6 private conversation between students 886 S und da hätt ich aber da hab ich nur zwei textstellen geHABT and there I would have had only two quotable passages 687 und da wärs das wär so SCHWIErig geworden → glaub ich and it would have become so difficult I think (lit.: think I)-
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688
da noch mehr zu FINden; to find more of these;
In Example 4, the speaker’s utterance is possibly complete in line 22 after “mobile phone” because there is no syntactic or semantic projection (Auer 2002, 2007b, 2008) left open which might project the glaub ich in line 23. Therefore, glaub ich can be analyzed here as occupying the post-field of the sentence starting in line 18. In terms of prosodic realization, glaub ich is realized in a separate tone contour6 apart from the previous utterance. The marked prosodic realization increases the profile of glaub ich so that it appears as an increment. Following Ford et al. (2002: 16), an increment can be described as a nonmain-clause continuation after a possible point of turn completion. That is, an increment will be defined here as any nonmain-clause continuation of a speaker’s turn after that speaker has come to what could have been a completion point, or a ‘transition-relevance place’, based on prosody, syntax and sequential action.7
The phrase glaub ich in Example 4 cannot be classified as a typical main clause, because it is not clear whether the preceding sentence can be interpreted as its complement clause, i.e. whether there is a relation of super- and subordination at work here at all. Such a classification would be very artificial. Especially in those cases where the preceding utterance ends on a falling tone (as in Example 4, line 22), the expression glaub ich acquires an independent status, i.e. it appears as a unit of its own with little syntactic relation to the preceding utterance. Therefore, it is not a matrix clause but meets Ford et al.’s characterization of a special type of increment. According to Ford et al.’s (2002: 18) typology of subclasses of increments, post-positioned glaub(e) ich can be classified broadly as an extension:8 6. The term tone contour will be used as an equivalent to “Intonationsphrase” in Selting et al. (2009), where it is defined as a coherent unit where the final pitch movement is the most prominent marker of the end of the tone contour, which contains at least one accent and which – optionally – can have additional markers of its initial and final borders (creaky voice, pauses, lengthening, pitch jumps and others). 7. It is not always clear whether all of these conditions have to meet simultaneously. In Examples 5 and 6, there is no prosodic break but the non-finite verb (which forms the right verb bracket in German) provides a very strong syntactic signal of completeness. 8. For a newer and very detailed analysis of increments see Couper-Kuhlen/Ono (2007). While Ford et al. (2002) use the concept of the “transition-relevance place” as the main feature of their classification, Couper-Kuhlen/Ono (2007: 515) differentiate between “non-add-ons”, which are placed after a syntactic closure but without a prosodic break, and “glue-ons”, which fit to the previous TCU syntactically but are set off prosodically by pauses, a new onset or accents. I will use the broader classification suggested by Ford et al. because the syntactic status of postpositioned glaub(e) ich is unclear and the examples show that it can both be prosodically latched onto the previous utterance (Examples 5 and 6) or set off (Example 4). See also Auer (2006; 2007a)
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An extension is a short syntactic unit with the function of repairing a previous utterance before any misunderstandings can occur. It can repair possible problems of understanding, possible threat of face, and it can mark the utterance as not based on certain knowledge.
If post-positioned glaub(e) ich is indeed to be classified as an increment,9 this would imply that the previous utterance to which it is pragmatically – but not syntactically – attached is complete by itself and the phrase glaub(e) ich then has to be recategorized as a modalizing phrase or post-positioned discourse marker. In Langacker’s (1987) terms, this would mean that there occurs a change in profile determinacy. It is not the phrase with glauben that is the profile determinant, but rather the preceding utterance. However, exactly as in those cases where a prepositioned ich glaub(e) is to be classified as an utterance-initial discourse marker, the change of profile determinacy is by no means complete. Both discourse markers and extensions have a status somewhere outside the canonical sentence structure and operate between syntactic disintegration and pragmatic integration. In the case of the post-positioned glaub ich in Example 4, its function is clearly to mark the previous utterance as a conjecture and to save the face of the interviewee who forgot to turn off his mobile phone. So far, the description of postpositioned glaub(e) ich as a conventionalized increment to tone down utterances seems to be pretty convincing. Example 5 shows, though, that this classification cannot be held up without problems. Here, the phrase with glauben is latched directly onto the previous utterance and is realized within one single tone contour: “ich SAGte dann ist der begriff gang bang SCHON ganz gut getroffen glaub ich” lit.: ‘I said then the term gang bang fits quite well think I’ (Example 5, line 95). The character of an increment is lost by this process of latching because increments require some autonomous prosodic status – at least according to Ford et al. (2002: 16). Furthermore, the phrase with glauben loses even more of its salience and becomes part of the ordinary sentence structure, just like any other part of speech (e.g. an adverb).
for a discussion of the as-yet unclear status both of syntactic and prosodic features that should be used to determine the borders of utterances and, thus, the classes of increments. 9. It is important to note that the definition of increments is a highly contested area. While Couper-Kuhlen/Ono (2007) insist that only when a prosodic break occurs does the category increment apply, Auer (2007a) claims that prosody can be overridden in some types of increments. This is because in German the right verb bracket is such a strong marker of syntactic completeness that few constituents are expected after it. Therefore, a phrase such as glaub ich is marked strongly enough as being out of place by the preceding closure of syntactic structure and does not need prosody to become marked as an increment.
Clines of subordination
In Example 6 the integration of glaub(e) ich into the preceding utterance is even stronger. Here, glaub ich (line 687) is uttered between the right verb bracket (finite verb) “geworden” (‘have become’) and the post-field (“da noch mehr zu FINden” ‘to find more of these’): “und da wärs das wär so SCHWIErig geworden glaub ich- da noch mehr zu FINden;” (lit.: ‘and there would that would so difficult have become think I- there even more to find’). Not only is the phrase with glauben prosodically latched onto the preceding clause, there is also a strong aspect of syntactic integration of glaub ich into the surrounding clause, which does not stop after glaub ich. The phrase is actually integrated within a clause, not just preceding or following it. This integration is responsible for the perceptory effect that glaub ich appears more like an adverb or modal particle and not like a discourse marker. In order to interpret the heterogeneous phrases with glauben that have been presented so far, all relevant linguistic levels have to be taken into account, ranging from syntactic features via semantic and pragmatic ones to prosody.10 On the level of meaning, there is a slight tendency of glauben to carry a full semantic content, i.e. there is much less “semantic bleaching” than with other pragmaticalized phrases (see Auer/Günthner 2005). Exceptions are provided by Examples 2 and 3 discussed above, where the semantic content is reduced in favour of a new semantic meaning of the whole fixed expression Ich glaub ich spinn. ‘I think/believe I am crazy’ (Example 2) or reduced because of contextual factors making the interpretation of glauben as believing highly improbable (Ich glaub ich guck mal aufm Stadtplan. ‘I think/believe I will look it up on the map’). So, in terms of semantics there is no certain proof as to a change of category of the phrases with glauben. Syntactically, it would be possible to transform all sentences into matrix clauses with following subordinate clauses. Such a transformation, though, would change the profiles of both constructions ([matrix clause followed by a subordinate clause] and [independent clause followed by the phrase glaub(e) ich]) so strongly that meanings would be created that might even be absurd in given contexts. On a prosodic level, the phrase with glauben can either be uttered within an independent tone contour or it can be latched onto or integrated into the previous utterance. In the first case, glaub(e) ich is profiled and has the character of an increment. In the second case it is back-grounded and appears more like an adverb or modal particle, i.e. like any other part of speech embedded into a sentence. All of these factors taken together lead to the assumption of a gliding scale between instances of glaub(e) ich which are placed in an utterance-final position (and can be called 10. A description covering a broad range of linguistic and extra-linguistic features is needed to describe constructions with glauben: “I do not believe that grammar, in all its actual complexity, is coherently describable independently from processing and discourse, or that those are neatly distinct from another. I believe we need an integrated account of all three domains for any of them to be properly understood.” (Langacker 2009: 340)
Wolfgang Imo
increments) and those which are embedded into the utterance (and behave more like adverbs or modal particles). This gliding scale corresponds to the change in profile (see also Langacker 2009: 337 for “transitional” cases of subordinate structures) – which is determined by prosodic, semantic, syntactic and pragmatic features – from the phrase with glauben towards the surrounding utterance it is pragmatically associated with (from top to bottom): phrase with glauben is profiled
ich glaub(e) + subordinate clause ich glaub(e) = matrix clause
ich glaub(e) + main clause / utterance ich glaub(e) = matrix clause or discourse marker
utterance + glaub(e) ich (prosodically separated) glaub(e) ich = incremental discourse marker
utterance + glaub(e) ich (prosodically integrated, uttered after the main clause) glaub(e) ich = incremental discourse marker, adverb or modal particle
utterance + glaub(e) ich surrounding utterance is profiled
(prosodically and syntactically integrated, i.e. realized within the main clause) glaub(e) ich = adverb or modal particle
Schema 1.╇ From subordinating to embedded structure
Clines of subordination
As the last entry suggests, glaub(e) ich can actually be integrated completely within an utterance. Indeed, it is uttered much more often within the so-called “middle field” of a sentence (i.e. within an utterance, between the brackets formed by the finite and non-finite verb parts) than after an utterance. 5. From matrix clause to modal particle The majority of cases following the constructional schema [verb(glaube) + subject(ich)] are found not at the end of, but more or less seamlessly embedded within an utterance. Example 6, which was discussed above, already showed such a pattern. The following examples illustrate further typical instances of the phrase glaub(e) ich realized completely within a sentence. Example 7 is taken from a radio phone-in show where callers (C) can talk to the host of the programme (H) about their experiences with foreigners in Germany and Example 8 is taken from a radio counselling show with a priest (P) offering help to people with psychological problems (caller C). (7) Example 7 radio phone-in (psychological counselling) 876 H ja entSCHULdigen sie wenn ich sie jetzt unter[BRECH]e; yes excuse me if I interrupt you now; 877 C [ja. ] yes. 878 H → ihr problem ist glaub ich ganz GUT bei unsern hörern und bei unserer expertin angekommen, your problem has I think (lit.: think I) reached our audience and our expert very well, (8) Example 8 radio phone-in (psychological counselling) 321 C und ich möchte auch ein KLEInes bisschen and I also want a little bit of 322 ein KLEInes stückchen DAseinsberechtigung möchte ich SCHON noch haben; I really do want a little bit of the right to exist; 323 P naTÜRlich, (.) of course, (.) 324 C nech; don’t I; 325 P die sie sich SELBST AUCH geben; (.) which you also give yourself; (.)
Wolfgang Imo
326 diese DAseinsberechtigung; .h this right to exist; .h 327 C → das KANN man sich glaub ich nicht selbst a- geben. one can’t I think (lit.: think I) give that to oneself. In both these examples glaub(e) ich is morphologically and phonologically reduced (the flectional ending -e is omitted) and prosodically completely integrated. Neither pauses nor accents nor stresses mark out the phrases with glauben as not belonging to the sentence like any other part of speech. Would it still be possible to interpret these instances of glaub(e) ich as parenthetically realized matrix clauses? There are several reasons for not following that interpretation: – First, the so-called “typical” indicators of parentheses are lacking. Parentheses, according to Schönherr (1997), have to be uttered faster, in a lower key and less loudly than the rest of the utterance. – Instead, on a prosodic level all tokens of glaub(e) ich which are realized within an utterance are neither marked by stress or accent nor highlighted by (micro)pauses before or after, but are seamlessly integrated into the surrounding utterance. So prosodically, too, they behave more like modal particles or modal adverbs. – Third, even if one takes a purely syntactic view of parentheses and defines them as interruptions of a syntactic projection (see Auer (2002; 2007b; 2008) or Stoltenburg (2003), who, for example, defines parentheses as “interruptions of emergent syntactic projections”) there are no reasons for classifying glaub(e) ich as a parenthesis. The phrase is completely integrated within the utterance and, again, seems to belong to the classes of modal adverbs or modal particles, which are also not projected by a verb but can be added freely into a sentence. – The last argument is a pragmatic one. Although it is syntactically possible to transform all of the instances of integrated glaub(e) ich into prepositioned matrix clauses followed by a subordinate clause, this would profile ich glaub(e) so strongly that the meaning of the sentence would change – sometimes in quite a radical way. When glaub(e) ich is uttered within a clause, it is not asserted in comparison to the rest of the utterance. Rather, it serves as a modalizing element toning down the utterance. The phrase with glauben appears much more like a modal particle (a category that is usually strongly integrated into the clause in German) and one could indeed speak of an inversion of profile determinacy (Langacker 1987) in these cases. It is the utterance in which glaub(e) ich is embedded in, not the phrase with glauben, that provides the profile determinant of the complete utterance.
Clines of subordination
6. Clines of subordination: A discussion of the results The results of the preceding analysis can be summarized as follows: 1. If ich glaub(e) is uttered sentence-initially and followed by a subordinate clause, the phrase is asserted and usually carries strong syntactic and pragmatic weight. It is interpreted as a matrix clause which has the following subordinate clause within its scope and it provides the profile determinant of the utterance. 2. If ich glaub(e) is uttered sentence-initially and followed by a main clause, it carries much less weight. Often, it can no longer be interpreted as a matrix clause at all because pragmatically and semantically the following main clause cannot be interpreted as filling the complement slot of the matrix clause. Instead, ich glaub(e) is being reanalyzed as a kind of pragmatic particle, pragmatic marker or discourse marker. While the main clause provides the basis for the profile determinant in that case, it is unclear whether the discourse marker should be subsumed under that profile or be treated as an independent unit (and, thus, as providing a special pragmatic profile determinant of its own). 3. If glaub(e) ich is uttered sentence-finally, its relative weight is reduced even further. Sometimes, the phrase appears as an increment. In terms of profile determinacy, the same holds for these cases as for ich glaub(e) as an utteranceinitial discourse marker. The phrase can neither be subsumed under the previous utterance nor be classified as a completely independent unit – it is somewhere “in-between”. Often, though, glaub(e) ich is prosodically latched onto the previous utterance. If that is the case, the semantic and pragmatic weight of glaub(e) ich is reduced even further and it starts to appear as a modal particle or adverb, i.e. like any other part of speech that is integrated completely into the sentence. 4. If glaub(e) ich is produced within an utterance, its relative weight is very small. The phrase is prosodically and syntactically completely integrated into the surrounding clause and has lost any appearance of a matrix clause. What happens, in fact, is that the direction of embedding vs. embedded has been reversed.11 When the phrase is uttered sentence-initially, the following clause 11. With “embedded” I do not refer to the assumptions of transformative grammar but rather use the term in a cognitive way to describe the gestalt phenomenon that parts of speech can be integrated seamlessly into a sentence prosodically and semantically – i.e. no prosodic break or pitch change occurs and no unusual semantic contribution is added. For example, adverbs are often neatly embedded, as in the following sentence: It will definitely rain tomorrow. It is possible, though, to highlight them, causing a break in the sentence: It will (.) DEfinitely (.) rain tomorrow. (The brackets indicate pauses and the capital letters a stressed syllable). For a detailed discussion of such phenomena see the special issue on increment structures of Pragmatics (2007), especially the discussion of prosodically integrated vs. non-integrated increments by Auer (2007a: 634f.).
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seems to be embedded into the matrix clause. When glaub(e) ich is uttered within a clause, it appears to be embedded into that clause and, thus, the profile determinant lies in the whole clause and not in the phrase with glauben. Auer/Günthner (2005) as well as Stoltenburg (2003) come to the conclusion that glaub(e) ich is being reanalyzed as a modal adverb or modal particle because of its loss of syntactic powers of projection, its morphological and phonological reduction and its prosodic downscaling and integration. This means that ich glaub(e) shows strong signs of a process of recategorization. If it is uttered sentence-initially, it leaves the mainly syntactic category [matrix clause] and moves towards the mainly pragmatic category [discourse marker]. In that process, the complete construction moves from [matrix clause + dependent main clause12] towards [discourse marker + following utterance]. This process has been amply described for a lot of German and English “ex”-matrix clauses. Rehbein (2003: 270), for example, states that matrix constructions show the tendency to congeal into fixed phrases or formulae and Thompson/Mulac (1984, 1991) as well as Bybee (2001) and Thompson (2002) have shown that matrix clauses tend to be separated syntactically from their following main clauses, thus gaining an autonomous status. In the end, they become recategorized (or pragmaticalized) as “epistemic qualifiers” or “CTP-phrases as epistemic/evidential/evaluative frames for declarative and interrogative clauses” (Thompson/Mulac 1984: 315; see also Pekarek Doehler, Okamoto/Laury and Günthner (this volume)). This certainly holds true for matrix clauses which are uttered sentence-initially, such as ich glaub(e). The inverted construction glaub(e) ich has moved even further away from a matrix clause or from any subject-plus-predicate-plus-complement combination. It can no longer be treated as a concatenation of a predicate and a subject but has to be reanalyzed as a fixed, frozen phrase. But in which direction is this phrase moving? It definitely cannot be classified as a discourse marker because that class of expressions is not embedded into sentences in German (Gohl/Günthner 1999). In fact, there are at least three neighbouring constructions which form a taxonomic network13 within which the phrase glaub(e) ich is moving freely. These three schematic constructions (shown below) fulfil the functions of attractors and it depends on the actual context in which the phrase glaub(e) ich is uttered to decide which construction works as main attractor:
12. The term “dependent main clause” is a literal translation of Auer’s (1998) “abhängiger Hauptsatz”, referring to main clause sentences (i.e. sentences with the finite verb in the second position) which follow a matrix clause (e.g. Ich glaube, es wird heute regnen. ‘I think it will rain today.’). 13. On the concept of taxonomic networks within the theory of construction grammar or cognitive grammar see Croft (2002), Croft/Cruse (2004) and Langacker (1987).
Clines of subordination i. glaub(e) ich as a modal particle: pro
syntactically fixed phrase (sedimentation); modalizing function; cannot carry stress/accent; strong tendency to be placed in the middle field14
contra
the phrase with glauben can theoretically be transformed into a matrix clause (which a modal particle cannot); the phrase can occupy the post-field and (partly) the front field of clauses – both these positions are blocked for modal particles; rather strong semantics with little bleaching in most cases
ii. glaub(e) ich as a modal adverb: pro
syntactically fixed phrase (sedimentation); modalizing function; can be transformed into a matrix clause; double front-field position can be a step towards the ability to occupy the front field on its own15
contra
unlike a modal adverb, the phrase with glauben cannot be placed in the front field on its own; the phrase cannot be stressed, while a modal adverb can carry stress; while modal adverbs can be used as an answer to a yes/no question, glaub(e) ich cannot be used that way
iii. glaub(e) ich as an inverted matrix clause: pro
on a purely formal syntactic level, it can be transformed into a prepositioned matrix clause
contra
glaub(e) ich has become a fixed phrase or formula via sedimentation processes; glaub(e) ich has a low profile (it is much less salient than a matrix clause); on a pragmatic and sentence-semantic level, the transformation into a prepositioned matrix clause is not possible
Schema 2.╇ Network of possible constructions 14. According to topological grammar (Drach 1963), the middle field of a main clause is the part between the left and (optional) right verb brackets. The structure of German main clauses is: front field / left verb bracket / middle field / (right verb bracket) / post-field. 15. Though glaub(e) ich can never occur alone in the front field (before the finite verb), it can occur in a kind of double front-field position together with another element: “über WEIHnachten glaub ich isch er SCHON daheim.” (lit.: ‘during Christmas think I is he certainly at home’).
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The more gestalt features glaub(e) ich shares with the schematic construction [modal particle] (i.e. positioned within the middle field of the sentence, no pauses before and after and no accent/stress), the stronger the construction [modal particle] appears as the superordinate construction which glaub(e) ich is an instance of. If glaub(e) ich is realized in the front field or post field of a sentence, it moves closer to the construction [modal adverb] or [(inverted) matrix clause]. In any case, because of the formal possibility of changing the phrase into a prepositioned matrix clause, the construction [matrix clause] always stays active to at least some small degree. These conflicting results suggest that the findings of Thompson/Mulac (1984, 1991) are also valid for German complement-taking predicates. Actually, glaub(e) ich is a good illustration of what they have noted about certain English verbs, which they call “epistemic verbs”: These epistemic verbs together with their subjects behave very much like unitary epistemic morphemes in other languages, to the point of being ‘transportable’ to positions other than that which they could occupy if they were only functioning to introduce a complement. (Thompson/Mulac 1984: 315)
What this implies is that because of the feature of being transportable to different positions within an utterance, some verbs have to be interpreted as being part of completely different constructions. Thompson/Mulac (1991: 239) name to believe as an example of a verb that oscillates within a network of constructions. In the sentence I believe it’s going to snow., I believe is seen as a complement-taking predicate, while in the sentence It’s going to snow, I believe. the phrase is reanalyzed as an epistemic morpheme and thus becomes an instantiation of such constructions as [discourse marker] or [modal particle]. So the change of position within a clause implies a change of construction, too. Post-positioned, I believe no longer has the power of demanding a complement (loss of valence). 7. Phrases with glauben as instances of fragmentary language Phrases with glauben oscillate between several different constructions. First, there are the syntactic patterns of [matrix clause + subordinate clause], [matrix clause + dependent main clause] and [parenthetically realized matrix clause] that always remain more or less closely connected in the network of constructions that provides the area in which actual instances of ich glaub(e) and glaub(e) ich can be interpreted. For the non-inverted form ich glaub(e), the construction [discourse marker] even seems to be the core construction for some cases. For the inverted form, traditional constructions such as [modal particle] or [modal adverb] have to
Clines of subordination
be considered – or, maybe, a new construction, such as [incremental discourse particle], ought to be added. While there have been precedents for a process such as the development of ich glaub(e) into a discourse marker,16 which involves a path that runs from [matrix clause + subordinate clause] via [matrix clause + dependent main clause] to [discourse marker + following utterance], the development of inverted glaub(e) ich is much more difficult to sketch. One possible solution for the situation of uncertain target constructions might be found in Hopper/Traugott’s (1993: 17) concept of grammaticalization. During grammaticalization processes it often happens that linguistic elements can no longer be classified in terms of unequivocal syntactic categories.17 “Earlier forms may coexist with later ones [...], earlier meanings may constrain later meanings and/or structural characteristics.” So the phenomenon of overlaying multiple forms and meanings/functions (divergence) might be responsible for the constructional uncertainty. I would argue, though, that at the present stage it is not possible to decide whether glaub(e) ich really can be described as being about to be lexicalized or pragmaticalized. If this were the case, what would be the target construction? Would it be that of a modal particle or a modal adverb? How, then, can one account for the post-positioned forms? Will they vanish? Will there be two, or even three, target constructions (incremental discourse markers, modal particles, modal adverbs)? Or will the result be a completely new construction? What is certain, so far, is the fact that glaub(e) ich can no longer simply be interpreted as a parenthetically realized matrix clause. On top of that, the morpho-syntactic and phonological reduction of the phrase glaub(e) ich to glaub in some of the data18 seems to point to a process of sedimentation into a fixed phrase. Haspelmath (2002: 274) comes to the conclusion that phonological reduction is a natural result of the high-frequency use of a phrase: “Phonological reduction is a natural result of increased frequency, and frequency of elements and patterns automatically leads to an increased mental entrenchment and thus results in fixed grammatical patterns.” (Haspelmath 2002: 16. The phrase ich mein(e) (I mean) is a case of a discourse marker that is already very strongly grammaticalized (or, rather, pragmaticalized), according to Günthner/Imo (2003). See also Traugott (1995: 38): “Yet another example of a verbal construction coming to acquire discourse particle function is I think. This is currently undergoing a change from main-clause status, where the first person is selected from among the set of possible subject arguments of think, to a parenthetical construction with greater freedom of position, to a fixed phrase indicating speakers’ epistemic attitude.” 17. In functional linguistics, the feature of categorical vagueness or openness is assumed to be typical for grammatical categories in general, not just for processes of grammaticalization. 18. As in the following case: “da hab i glaub sogar beDIENT;” (lit.: ‘there have I think even worked as waiter’). The pronoun “i”, a dialectal variety of “ich”, is the subject of the verb “beDIENT”, not of “glaub”.
Wolfgang Imo
274; My translation). This, in turn, usually leads to a strong mental implementation which ends in the formation of new grammatical patterns (see also Bybee/Scheibman 1999). In the case of glauben, though, this is just a hypothetical development which has by no means proceeded so far as to lead to any fixed construction in which the verb has lost all of its “verbiness” (i.e. its ability to demand a complement) and given up its – albeit vague – association with a matrix clause. The phrase glaub(e) ich is placed within a “no-man’s land” between different constructions, and a fixed category cannot be decided upon. The only “movement” along a “path” that all of the phrases with glauben (those in front of, embedded in and after an utterance) have in common is what Traugott (1995) and Langacker (1990) call a path towards “subjectification”, namely the movement towards marking an “alignment to the speaker’s perspective” (Traugott 1995: 39). This broad pragmatic development as a marker of speaker stance does not correlate closely with the coagulation into fixed forms, i.e. the development of constructions (form-meaning pairings). A syntactic theory that aims to sketch an accurate picture of the present state of language cannot ignore the fact that language is always on the flux (see Hopper’s (1998) concept of “emergent grammar”). Therefore, the fragmentary character of language has somehow to be taken into account: In casual spoken discourse constructions appear not as neatly bounded sentences or clauses but as unstructured fragments that are habitually combined with other fragments to make utterances. [...] They [constructions W.I.] are open because their structure is emergent, that is to say, their structure never reaches a point of closure and completion as a construction. [...] They are intrinsically indeterminate. (Hopper 2004: 19)
This quote seems to be written to account exactly for the phenomena discussed here. Constructional schemata are only prototypes which interactants orient to (cf. Imo 2007b). Depending on interactional needs, actual utterances can be realized in all kinds of different ways and draw on a wide range of related constructions. They can be reanalyzed, amalgamated, aborted or reinterpreted ad hoc. Norén/Linell (2007) refer to this inherent openness of lexical or grammatical constructions as their “meaning potentials”: The meaning potential of a lexical item or a grammatical construction is the set of properties which together with contextual factors, including features of the linguistic co-text as well as various situational conditions, make possible all the usages and interpretations of the word or construction that language users find reasonably correct, or plainly reasonable in the actual situations of use.
The meaning potentials of the phrases involving glauben can draw on a range of different sources. First, the semantic content of the verb – i.e. expressing a belief about something, thinking something – provides a starting point. This basic
Clines of subordination
semantic content can lead down the path of subjectification, transforming phrases with glauben into mere pragmatic markers indicating speaker stance. Second, the routinized and highly grammaticalized constructions glauben is used in (such as matrix clauses or transitive constructions) provide further sources for the activation of meaning potentials. Here, the full semantic content is usually needed for glauben. Third, constructions not involving glauben but showing similar syntactic patterns of distribution, function or internal structure by analogy endow a phrase with glauben with aspects of the meaning and function of, for example, a modal particle. The concept of meaning potentials can explain both the apparent lack of fixed structure as well as the processes of making sense of an utterance in given actual situations. It may well be that the extreme case of syntactic indecidability illustrated in this analysis could actually be at the heart of the grammar of spoken interaction in general. While this is still an open question, what has become clear is the fact that one has to abandon the idea of constructions which can be determined in a binary yes/no fashion.19 If one takes Hopper’s (1998) idea of “emergent grammar” seriously, all language is fragmentary. The constructs with glauben provide a strong hint that this is indeed the case. Literature Auer, Peter. 1998. “Zwischen Parataxe und Hypotaxe: ‘abhängige Hauptsätze’ im Gesprochenen und Geschriebenen Deutsch.” ZGL 26: 284–307. Auer, Peter. 2002. “On line-Syntax – Oder: was es bedeuten könnte, die Zeitlichkeit der mündlichen Sprache ernst zu nehmen.” Sprache und Literatur 85 (31): 43–56. Auer, Peter. 2006. “Increments and more. Anmerkungen zur augenblicklichen Diskussion über die Erweiterbarkeit von Turnkonstruktionseinheiten.” In Grammatik und Interaktion, Arnulf Deppermann, Reinhard Fiehler and Thomas Spranz-Fogasy (eds), 279–294. Radolfzell: Verlag für Gesprächsforschung. Auer, Peter. 2007a. “Why are increments such elusive objects? An afterthought.” Pragmatics 17 (4): 647–658. Auer, Peter. 2007b. “Syntax als Prozess.” In Gespräch als Prozess, Heiko Hausendorf (ed.), 95–124. Tübingen: Narr. Auer, Peter. 2008. “On-line syntax: Thoughts on the temporality of spoken language.” Language Sciences 31 (1): 1–13.
19. See also Seppänen and Laury (2007: 569), who in their discussion of Finnish et(tä) clauses come to the conclusion that these clauses are “not very good examples of traditional complementation and thus not at all clear examples of subordination”. Et(tä) clauses are used by interactants in such a wide variety of constructions and functions that they, too, could be seen as examples for fragmentary language.
Wolfgang Imo Auer, Peter and Günthner, Susanne. 2005. “Die Entstehung von Diskursmarkern im Deutschen – ein Fall von Grammatikalisierung?.” In Grammatikalisierung im Deutschen, Torsten Leuschner and Tanja Mortelsmans (eds), 335–362. Berlin: de Gruyter. Barden, Birgit. 1998. “Prosodische Merkmale von Operator-Skopus-Strukturen.” Unpublished manuscript. Halle, 3.3.98. Barden, Birgit, Elstermann, Mechthild, and Fiehler, Reinhard. 2001. “Operator-Skopus-Strukturen in gesprochener Sprache.” In Pragmatische Syntax, Frank Lidtke and Franz Hundsnurscher (eds), 197–232: Tübingen: Niemeyer. Brinton, Laurel J. 1998. “‘The flowers are lovely; only, they have no scent’: The evolution of a pragmatic marker.” In Proceedings of the Conference of the German Association of University Teachers of English, Raimund Borgmeier, Hubert Grabes and Andreas H. Jucker (eds), 9–33. Trier: WVT. Bybee, Joan 2001. “Main clauses are innovative, subordinate clauses are conservative.” In Complex Sentences in Grammar and Discourse, Joan Bybee and Michael Noonan (eds), 1–17. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Bybee, Joan and Scheibman, Joanne. 1999. “The effect of usage on degrees of constituency: the reduction of don’t in English.” Linguistics 37 (4): 575–596. Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth and Ono, Tsuyoshi (ed.). 2007. Turn Continuation in Cross-linguistic Perspective. Special Issue of Pragmatics 17 (4). Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth and Ono, Tsuyoshi. 2007. “‘Incrementing’ in conversation. A comparison of practices in English, German and Japanese.” Pragmatics 17 (4): 513–552. Croft, William. 2002. Radical Construction Grammar. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Croft, William and Cruse, Alan D. 2004. Cognitive Linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Drach, Erich. 1963. Grundgedanken der deutschen Satzlehre. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft. Edmondson, Willis and House, Juliane. 1981. Let’s Talk and Talk about it. A Pedagogic Interactional Grammar of English. München: Urban & Schwarzenberg. Elmauer, Ute. 1973. “Abhängige Hauptsätze in gesprochenen und verschriftlichten Texten.” In Institut für deutsche Sprache. Forschungsberichte Band 7, Ulrich Engel and Irmgard Vogel (eds), 193–217. Tübingen: Niemeyer. Erman, Britt. 1987. Pragmatic Expressions in English. Stockholm: Almquist & Wiksell. Ford, Cecilia E. et al. 2002. “Constituency and the grammar of turn increments.” In The Language of Turn and Sequence, Cecilia E. Ford, Barbara A. Fox and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 14–38. New York: Oxford University Press. Fraser, Bruce. 1990. “An approach to discourse markers.” Journal of Pragmatics 14: 383–395. Freywald, Ulrike. 2008. “Zur Syntax und Funktion von dass-Sätzen mit Verbzweitstellung.” Deutsche Sprache 36: 246–285. Gohl, Christine and Günthner, Susanne. 1999. “Grammatikalisierung von weil als Diskursmarker in der gesprochenen Sprache.” Zeitschrift für Sprachwissenschaft 18 (1): 39–75. Günthner, Susanne and Imo, Wolfgang. 2003. “Die Reanalyse von Matrixsätzen als Diskursmarker: ich mein-Konstruktionen im gesprochenen Deutsch.” In Jahrbuch der ungarischen Germanistik, Magdolna Orosz and Andreas Herzog (eds), 181–216. Budapest: DAAD. Haspelmath, Martin. 2002. “Grammatikalisierung: von der Performanz zur Kompetenz ohne angeborene Grammatik.” In Gibt es eine Sprache hinter dem Sprechen?, Sybille Krämer and Ekkehard König (eds), 262–286. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp. Helbig, Gerhard and Buscha, Joachim. 2001. Deutsche Grammatik. Berlin: Langenscheidt.
Clines of subordination
Hopper, Paul J. 1998. “Emergent grammar.” In The New Psychology of Language, Michael Tomasello (ed.), 155–175. Mahwah: Psychology Press. Hopper, Paul J. 2004. “The openness of grammatical constructions.” Chicago Linguistic Society 40: 239–256. Hopper, Paul J. and Traugott, Elizabeth C. 1993. Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Imo, Wolfgang. 2006. “‘Da hat des kleine glaub irgendwas angestellt’ – Ein construct ohne construction?” In Konstruktionen in der Interaktion, Susanne Günthner and Wolfgang Imo (eds), 263–291. Berlin: de Gruyter. Imo, Wolfgang. 2007a. Construction Grammar und Gesprochene-Sprache- Forschung: Konstruktionen mit zehn matrixsatzfähigen Verben im gesprochenen Deutsch. Tübingen: Niemeyer. Imo, Wolfgang. 2007b. “Der Zwang zur Kategorienbildung: Probleme der Anwendung der Construction Grammar bei der Analyse gesprochener Sprache.” Gesprächsforschung – Online Zeitschrift zur verbalen Interaktion 8: 22–45. Kroon, Caroline 1995. Discourse Particles in Latin. Amsterdam: Gieben. Kroon, Caroline. 1998. “A framework for the description of Latin discourse markers.” Journal of Pragmatics 30: 205–223. Langacker, Ronald W. 1987. Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, Vol. 1. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, Ronald W. 1990. “Subjectification.” Cognitive Linguistics 1 (1): 5–38. Langacker, Ronald W. 1991. Foundations of Cognitive Grammar, Vol. 2. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Langacker, Ronald W. 2009. Investigations in Cognitive Grammar. Berlin/New York: de Gruyter. Lenk, Uta. 1998. “Discourse markers and global coherence in conversation.” Journal of Pragmatics 30: 245–257. Norén, Kerstin and Linell, Per. 2007. “Meaning potentials and the interaction between lexis and contexts: An empirical substantiation.” Pragmatics 17 (3): 387–416. Rehbein, Jochen. 2003. “Matrixkonstruktionen in Diskurs und Text.” Zeitschrift für Interkulturellen Fremdsprachenunterricht 8 (2/3): 252–276. Schiffrin, Deborah. 1987. Discourse Markers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Schourup, Lawrence C. 1985. Common Discourse Particles in English Conversation. New York: Garland Publishing. Schönherr, Beatrice. 1997. Syntax – Prosodie – nonverbale Kommunikation. Tübingen: Niemeyer. Schumacher, Helmut, Kubczak, Jacqueline, Schmidt, Renate and de Ruiter, Vera. 2004. VALBU – Valenzwörterbuch deutscher Verben. Tübingen: Narr. Selting, Margret et al. 1998. “Gesprächsanalytisches Transkriptionssystem.” Linguistische Berichte 173: 91–122. Selting, Margaret, et. al. 2009. “Gesprächsforschung-Online-Zeitschriftzur Verbalen Interaktion 10: 353–402. Seppänen, Eeva-Leena and Laury, Ritva. 2007. “Complement clauses as turn continuations: the Finnish et(tä)-clause.” Pragmatics 17 (4): 553–572. Stoltenburg, Benjamin. 2003. “Parenthesen im gesprochenen Deutsch.” InLiSt (Interaction and Linguistic Structure) 34: 1–44. (www.uni- potsdam.de/u/inlist/issues/34/index.htm) Thim-Mabrey, Christiane. 1988.“Satzadverbialia und andere Ausdrücke im Vorvorfeld.” Deutsche Sprache 16: 52–67. Thompson, Sandra A. 2002. “‘Object complements’ and conversation: towards a realistic account.” Studies in Language 26: 125–163.
Wolfgang Imo Thompson, Sandra A. and Mulac, Anthony. 1984. “A quantitative perspective on the grammaticization of epistemic parenetheticals in English.” In Coherence and Grounding in Discourse, Russel S. Tomlin (ed.), 131–339. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Thompson, Sandra A. and Mulac, Anthony. 1991. “The discourse conditions for the use of the complementizer that in conversational English.” Journal of Pragmatics 15: 137–251. Thompson, Sandra A. and Hopper, Paul J. 2008. “Projectability and clause combining in interaction.” In Crosslinguistic Studies of Clause Combining. The Multifunctionality of Conjunctions, Ritva Laury (ed.), 99–123. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Traugott, Elizabeth C. 1995. “Subjectification in grammaticalization.” In Subjectivity and subjectivisation, Dieter Stein and Susan Wright (eds), 31–54. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese? Yuko Higashiizumi
Tokyo Gakugei University This paper reviews subordination in conversation through grammaticalization. Traditionally, the Japanese kara ‘because’-clause has been characterized as a causal subordinate clause. This study describes the various uses of karaclauses in present-day Japanese and the historical background to the variety in clause combination. According to Hopper & Traugott (2003), complex clause constructions are traditionally classified into subordination and coordination. More recent studies, however, have suggested that the dichotomy calls for further investigation. Building on these recent studies, Hopper & Traugott (2003) propose a subordination – hypotaxis – parataxis continuum of complex clause constructions in grammaticalization. I illustrate that a continuum is more relevant than the traditional dichotomy in understanding both the functional diversity of kara-clauses in present-day Japanese and the historical process in kara-clauses.
1. Introduction The aim of this study is to reconsider the concept of subordination in conversation from the viewpoint of grammaticalization. According to Hopper & Traugott (2003: 176), complex clause constructions are traditionally classified into two types, i.e., subordination and coordination. On the other hand, recent work suggests that this traditional dichotomy requires further discussion (e.g., Haiman & Thompson 1984; Lehmann 1988; Matthiessen & Thompson 1988; Cristofaro 2003; Verstraete 2007). Building on more recent studies, Hopper & Traugott (2003: 176–184) propose a subordination – hypotaxis – parataxis continuum of complex clause constructions in grammaticalization. This paper will show that the continuum is more useful than the dichotomy in illuminating a wide variety of kara ‘because’-clauses, so-called causal subordinate clauses, in present-day Japanese, as well as the historical process in clause combination. The kara-clause consists of a clause and the so-called subordinate clause marker kara added as a suffix, referred to as a setuzoku-zyosi ‘conjunctive particle’.
Yuko Higashiizumi
Canonically, a pair of clauses in which one clause is called the subordinate clause and the other the main clause can be schematized as in (1a). (Hereafter, CL stands for clause. CL1 stands for a clause that has a subordinate clause marker attached as a suffix when it is associated with a main clause CL2.) In the same way, the karaclause and its syntactic main clause can be schematized as in (1b). (1) a. CL1-subordinate clause marker CL2. b. CL1-kara CL2. A number of recent studies, however, have indicated that what are traditionally called subordinate clauses are not always immediately followed by a syntactic main clause in present-day Japanese, as in (2a). In the same way, the kara-clause may stand alone with no preceding or following syntactic main clause in present-day Japanese, as schematized in (2b). (2) a. CL-subordinate clause marker. b. CL-kara. Such subordinate clause markers occupy the position in which a syuu-zyosi ‘final particle’ usually appears and express various discourse-pragmatic functions (Nakayama & Ichihashi-Nakayama 1997; Iguchi 1998; Ohori 1995; Okamoto 1995; Suzuki 1999). This study focuses on the historical backgrounds to the present-day usage of kara-clauses. The organization of this paper is as follows: Section 2 provides notes about the examples while Section 3 gives the background to the present study and the various relationships of kara-clauses to their main clauses in present-day Japanese conversation. Section 4 introduces the diachronic process in kara-clauses. Section 5 discusses what the functional extension of kara-clauses can tell us about subordination in conversation. Finally, Section 6 offers conclusions to the current research. 2. Data The data come from examples collected for Higashiizumi (2006). It consists of a total of 435 kara-clauses collected from the conversational parts of novels and play scripts from 1592 to 1985 and a total of 107 kara-clauses taken from conversation transcripts in Nihongo Journal and in Lee (2000) dated 1995–2000 in the Edo/ Tokyo dialect in Japan. In order to minimize any bias in sampling, no more than ten relevant examples are taken from novels and play scripts by a single author or from the same conversation transcript.1 1. See the appendices for the data list. Jacobs & Jucker (1995) provide a discussion of spoken language in diachronic data. For further details on collecting diachronic conversational data in Japanese, also see Suzuki (1999) and Onodera (2004).
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
3. Background 3.1
Cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization
In the literature of grammaticalization, it has been pointed out that when two clauses are combined, they tend to develop into a more integrated clause combination over the course of grammaticalization (Hopper & Traugott 2003: 178), as shown in Figure 1. 3.2
Previous studies on the history of kara-clauses
This subsection gives a quick look at the history of kara-clauses based on Ishigaki (1955), Kobayashi (1996), Konoshima (1966, 1983), and Yamaguchi (1996). Kara in the 8th century is said to have been a noun-like word which occurs “either typically or extensively with adnominal modification” (Martin 1975: 664). The meaning of kara at that time is considered to have been ‘following’, ‘with’, ‘along’, ‘by way of ’, etc. It is thought to have developed into an ablative marker following a noun, i.e., Noun-kara ‘from Noun’, and then into a causal marker following a finite clause. It came into wide use as a causal clause marker in the eastern part of Japan beginning around 1600. Yoshii (1977) studied causal clauses that appeared in the conversational parts of novels in the Tokyo area from around 1700 to 1960. He makes several important statements on the development of kara-clauses. I will take up three of these points that are relevant to the present study. First, his data showed that karaclauses began to appear in conversation around 1700 and came into use in approximately 80% of all causal expressions around 1760. Second, he examined whether or not the syntactically associated main clause of kara-clauses expresses a description of facts. To put it differently, the kara-clause is considered to be associated with the verb in the main clause when a simple finite verb appears in the main clause, whereas the kara-clause is considered as being associated with the modal expressed by a certain type of post-verbal expression that appears in the main clause. He observed such expressions as conjecture (e.g, kamosirenai ‘maybe’), opinion (e.g., V-beki ‘must, should’), volition (e.g., V-(y)oo ‘will, let’s’), order (e.g., imperative form), request (e.g., V-tekure/tyoodai ‘please do something’), and question based on Nagano (1979 [1952]). Yoshii found that main clauses without such expressions gradually decreased, whereas main clauses including such expressions increased from around 1850. If we use the set of terms given in Sweetser (1990), we can say that kara-clauses appearing to correspond with a content conjunction gradually decrease in proportion, whereas karaclauses appearing to correspond to an epistemic or speech-act conjunction increase from around 1850 onwards. In other words, the kara-clause construction
Yuko Higashiizumi parataxis
> hypotaxis
> subordination
– dependent
+ dependent
+ dependent
– embedded
– embedded
+ embedded
Figure 1.╇ Cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization (Hopper and Traugott 2003: 178)
is becoming more subjective in the sense of Traugott (2003). Third, he pointed out that the proportion of kara in sentence-final position rapidly increased in the twentieth century, although whether kara in sentence-final position refers to the inversion of a kara-clause and its syntactically associated main clause (i.e., CL2, CL1-kara) and/or an independent kara-clause without an accompanying syntactically associated main clause (i.e., CL-kara in Schimatization (2b) above) is not clarified in his study. See Higashiizumi (2006: 141–146) for further details of Yoshii (1977). 3.3
Previous studies on kara-clauses in present-day Japanese
Kara-clauses are commonly characterized as subordinate clauses with causal meaning in present-day Japanese. More recent researchers, however, have noticed that they are not necessarily considered to be subordinate clauses or as a means of expressing cause or reason (e.g., Alfonso 1980; Masuoka 1997; Minami 1974, 1993; Shirakawa 1995, 2009; Takubo 1987; Uno 2009). Before Sweetser’s (1990) systematic analysis of logical connectives, Takubo (1987) differentiated kara-clauses that correspond to content conjunction in Sweetser’s (1990) sense, as shown in Example (3), from those that correspond to epistemic conjunction, as shown in Example (4), based on what the kara-clause modifies in the main clause. (3)
[kare ga itta kara kanozyo mo itta] no desyoo. he nom went kara she also went nmlz guess ‘(Lit.) (I) guess [because he went she also went].’ ‘I guess [she also went because he did].’ (Takubo 1987: 43)
(4)
kare ga itta kara [kanozyo mo itta] desyoo. he nom went kara she also went guess ‘(Lit.) Because he went, (I) guess [she also went].’ ‘I guess she also went, [because (I know) he did].’
(Takubo 1987: 43)
Example (3) expresses a real-world causality between the events described in the kara-clause and its associated main clause. The kara-clause in Example (3) modifies
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
the proposition that ‘she went’ in the main clause since it is within the scope of the nominalizer no. In other words, the kara-clause in Example (3) is an adjunct and restrictive clause (Quirk et al. 1985: 1076) and is a hypotactic clause in terms of the cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization. On the other hand, the kara-clause in Example (4) can be interpreted as the speaker’s grounds for drawing the conclusion that ‘she went’ in the main clause. It does not modify the proposition but the modal expressed by desyoo in the main clause. That is to say, it is a disjunct and non-restrictive clause (Quirk et al. 1985: 1076) and is a paratactic clause in terms of the cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization. Takubo noticed that kara-clauses are non-restrictive when they express a motive for the speech-act performed in their main clause as in Example (5). It can be considered to correspond to Sweetser’s (1990) speech-act conjunction. (5) P: sono uuron-tya mottainai kara nom-oo yo the oolong-tea wasteful kara drink-vol ptcl ‘because (it is) wasteful, let’s drink the oolong tea’ Q: un yeah ‘Yeah’
(Z95–15)
The kara-clause in Example (5) expresses the speaker’s motive for inviting the addressee to drink tea in the main clause. It does not modify the proposition that they drink tea but the modal expressed by the suffix -oo in the main clause. It is also a disjunct and non-restrictive clause and is a paratactic clause in terms of the cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization. See Alfonso (1980) and Shirakawa (1995) for further details of kara-clauses of this type. In present-day Japanese, kara-clauses may stand alone with no preceding or following syntactic main clause (Higashiizumi 2006; Honda 2005; Iguchi 1998; Ohori 1995, 1997; Shirakawa 2009; Suzuki 2009; Yabe 1997, 2002; Yamaguchi 1996). An example of an independent kara-clause is given in Example (6). The interlocutors Q and P talk about the security guard whom they have not seen for a long time. (6) P: watasi are kara at-te nai yo I then since see-ger not ptcl ‘I have not seen (him) since then.’ Q: kinoo watasi mo hazimete atta no yo yesterday I also for.the.first.time met mnlz ptcl ‘I also saw (him) for the first time (since I last saw him) yesterday’
Yuko Higashiizumi
P: a hontoni [rising intonation] int really ‘oh, really?’ Q: un yeah ‘Yeah.’ P:
zikantai ga nee aru kara ne work.hours nom ptcl exist kara ptcl ‘(lit.) because (his) work hours exist.’ ‘(you saw him after a long time) because (you had been missing) (his) work hours.’
Q: tyotto mat-te ne ... little wait-ger ptcl ‘Wait a moment.’ P: un yeah ‘Yeah.’
(Z95–6)
The kara-clause in P’s third turn in Example (6) can be considered as a single independent clause with a final-particle-like pragmatic marker or as a marker of discursive subordination (Lindström and Londén 2007). There is no linguistic main clause in Example (6), although we may interpret her utterance as meaning that she has not seen him for a long time because she does not know his work hours or because she cannot pass by the security office during his work hours. It has a pragmatic meaning that can be translated as ‘you know’ in English (Ohori 1995). The current study will term this type of kara a “pragmatic marker” in the sense of Brinton (1996). Table 1 summarizes the characteristics of kara-clauses in present-day Japanese, using Sweetser’s (1990) terms. So far, we have seen how and where kara-clauses function in present-day Japanese. Next, we will observe the historical process in kara-clauses. In the following section, I will explore how the relative distribution of examples, such as Examples (3)–(6), changes historically. 4. The diachronic process in kara-clauses 4.1. Clause combination Table 2 shows the transition of the distribution of kara-clauses by position from the 18th to the 21st centuries. The position of kara-clauses is classified as follows: (i)
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
Table 1.╇ Characteristics of PDJ kara-clauses Examples
Example (3)
Examples (4) and (5)
Clause combination kara-clause
Schematization (1b) CL1-kara CL2. hypotactic (or subordinate) subordinate clause marker
CL1-kara, CL2. paratactic (or non-subordinate) conjunction-like clause marker
kara
Interpretation using Sweetser’s (1990) terms
content conjunction
Example (6)
Schematization (2b) CL-kara. more paratactic (or independent) final-particle-like discourse-pragmatic marker epistemic conjunction or N/A speech-act conjunction
Table 2.╇ Development of the positional distribution of kara-clauses
i. CL1-kara CL2 (canonical) ii. CL2, CL1-kara (inverted) iii. CL-kara (with no main clause) iv. Others TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
9
84
50
38
67
44
48
(69.2%) 1
(89.4%) 3
(86.2%) 3
(76.0%) 8
(55.8%) 27
(44.0%) 35
(44.9%) 11
(7.7%) 0
(3.2%) 2
(5.2%) 0
(16.0%) 1
(22.5%) 17
(35.0%) 9
(10.3%) 45
(0%) 3 (23.0%) 13
(2.1%) 5 (5.3%) 94
(0%) 5 (8.6%) 58
(2.0%) 3 (6.0%) 50
(14.2%) 9 (7.5%) 120 335
(9.0%) 12 (12.0%) 100
(42.1%) 3 (2.8%) 107 207
the kara-clause precedes a main clause (i.e., traditional, canonical clause order); (ii) it follows a main clause (i.e., newer, inverted clause order); (iii) it accompanies no main clause; and (iv) other types such as an answer to an explicit why-question. What is noticeable from Table 2 is that the proportion of (i) (i.e., traditional, canonical clause order) decreases from the 19th century onwards, whereas that of (iii) (i.e., kara-clauses with no main clause) increases in the 20th century. In other
Yuko Higashiizumi
words, the trend is for a kara-clause to become more paratactic to its main clause or more independent from its main clause in terms of clause combination.2 Further, the proportion of (ii) (i.e., newer, inverted clause order) gradually increases from the late 19th century. 4.2
Interpretations of kara-clauses
In order to observe the developmental process of kara-clauses in terms of the correlation between their interpretation and their restrictiveness, I examined types of expressions that occur explicitly in both a kara-clause and the main clause when they have an epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation. The explicit expressions concerned in the current study are desyoo ‘(I) guess’ as in Example (4), the volitional form of verbs (nom-oo ‘will drink’ or ‘let’s drink’) as in Example (5), and other suffixes or suffix-like expressions such as conjecture, opinion, volition, order, request, and question, as in Yoshii (1977) above. The current study observed the transition in the distribution of evident overt expressions like these within each clause. Table 3 presents the distribution of such expressions occurring in the main clauses in the case of clause order (i) (i.e., canonical). Table 4 shows the case of clause order (ii) (i.e., inverted). What is noteworthy in Table 3 is that expressions of epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation appear explicitly in the main clause in more than half of all the examples from around 1800 onwards in the case of canonical clause order. Table 3.╇ Development of the distribution of overt expressions in main clauses in (i) ‘CL1-kara CL2’
with overt expressions without overt expressions TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
0 â•⁄ (0%) 9 (100%) 9
55 (65.7%) 29 (34.3%) 84
25 (50.0%) 25 (50.0%) 50
26 (68.4%) 12 (32.6%) 38
45 (57.1%) 22 (32.9%) 67 248
27 (61.4%) 17 (38.6%) 44
31 (64.6%) 17 (35.4%) 48 92
2. This may be a phenomenon that is observable in conversational language and, thus, genrespecific. My sincere thanks go to Elizabeth Traugott for her comment on this point. Further study of kara-clauses based on a larger corpus in various genres will be one of our future tasks.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
Table 4.╇ Development of the distribution of overt expressions in main clauses in (ii) ‘CL2, CL1-kara’
with overt expressions without overt expressions TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
0 (0%) 1 (100%) 1
0 (0%) 3 (100%) 3
0 (0%) 3 (100%) 3
6 (75.0%) 2 (25.0%) 8
18 (66.7%) 9 (33.3%) 27 42
21 (60.0%) 14 (40.0%) 35
5 (45.5%) 6 (54.5%) 11 46
Table 4 shows that such expressions came to appear explicitly in the main clause from around 1900 onwards in the case of inverted clause order. That is to say, karaclauses often give epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation rather than content-conjunction interpretation in conversational data in more recent years. Next, let us examine the distribution of evident overt expressions in karaclauses. Table 5 indicates the distribution of the overt expressions that appear in the kara-clause in the case of clause order (i) (i.e., canonical). Table 6 shows the case of clause order (ii) (i.e., inverted). What is noteworthy here is that evident expressions of epistemic or speech-act conjunction occur in kara-clauses from around 1800 onwards in the case of canonical clause order and from around 1900 onwards in the case of inverted clause order. Kara-clauses having these evident expressions in themselves can not be considered as modifying the modal in their main clauses, thus can be considered to be an indication that they were becoming more independent from the main clause gradually from around 1800. Table 5.╇ Development of the distribution of overt expressions in kara-clauses in (i) ‘CL1-kara CL2’
with overt expressions without overt expressions TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
0 (0%) 9 (100%) 9
25 (29.8%) 59 (70.2%) 84
17 (34.0%) 33 (66.0%) 50
18 (47.4%) 20 (52.6%) 38
24 (35.8%) 43 (64.2%) 67 248
15 (34.1%) 29 (65.9%) 44
21 (43.8%) 27 (56.3%) 48 92
Yuko Higashiizumi
Table 6.╇ Development of the distribution of overt expressions in kara-clauses in (ii) ‘CL2, CL1-kara’
with overt expressions without overt expressions TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
0 (0%) 1 (100%) 1
0 (0%) 3 (100%) 3
0 (0%) 3 (100%) 3
3 (37.5%) 5 (62.5%) 8
10 (37.0%) 17 (63.0%) 27 42
10 (28.6%) 25 (71.4%) 35
4 (36.4%) 7 (63.6%) 11 46
Table 7.╇ Development of the distribution of overt expressions in (iii) ‘CL-kara’
with overt expressions without overt expressions TOTAL TOTAL
–1750
–1800
–1850
–1900
–1950
–2000 (wr)
–2000 (sp)
0 (0%) 0 (0%) 0
0 (0%) 2 (100%) 2
0 (0%) 0 (0%) 0
0 (0%) 1 (100%) 1
5 (18.5%) 12 (81.5%) 17 20
4 (44.4%) 5 (55.6%) 9
17 (37.8%) 28 (62.2%) 45 54
Lastly, Table 7 presents the distribution of evident expressions when a kara-clause appears without any accompanying main clause. The expressions increase in proportion from around 1950. To sum up, the evident expressions of epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation occur explicitly in both kara-clauses and main clauses. In other words, kara-clauses are used to express epistemic or speech-act conjunction rather than content conjunction in conversational data in more recent years. Roughly speaking, the trend is for epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation. 4.3
Summary of the diachronic process of kara-clauses
As noted in Table 1 and at the beginning of Section 3, kara-clauses with epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation are more paratactic than those with content conjunction interpretation. Kara-clauses can be considered as not modifying the proposition in the main clause but rather modifying the speech-act being performed in the main clauses.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
In terms of clause combination, the relationship between kara-clauses and their main clause has become more paratactic to each other. As Table 2 shows, the proportion of kara-clauses without a main clause is increasing. That is to say, the relationship between kara-clauses and the main clause has extended from hypotactic to paratactic to independent over time. In terms of interpretation, kara-clauses tend towards an epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation. As shown in Tables 3–7, the expressions of epistemic or speech-act conjunction interpretation appearing in both kara-clauses and main clauses are on the increase. The diachronic process under investigation can be summarized as shown in Figure 2. 5. Discussion The diachronic process and synchronic diversity of kara-clauses adds new evidence to oppose the sharp dichotomy between coordination and subordination. As I have shown so far, there are examples of kara-clauses that cannot be considered coordinate or subordinate (i.e., hypotactic in Hopper & Traugott’s continuum) in the strict sense. Moreover, these clauses illustrate that the three-way continuum proposed in Hopper & Traugott (2003) is more useful in describing their diachronic process and synchronic diversity in present-day Japanese conversation. As Figure 2 shows, kara-clauses are becoming more paratactic clauses. I propose that the three-way continuum is more relevant to describe the diachronic process and synchronic diversity of kara-clauses than the two-way distinction, although they are extending in a direction away from the cline of clause-combining constructions in grammaticalization postulated by Hopper & Traugott (2003). Günthner (1996) claims that the weil ‘because’-clause in present-day German conversation is developing from hypotactic to paratactic clause. In sum, the three-way continuum is more useful than the sharp two-way distinction for comprehensively understanding the diachronic process and synchronic variation in clause combination as far as kara-clauses conversational data are concerned. hypotactic
→ paratactic
→ more paratactic or independent
CL1-kara CL2. → CL1-kara CL2. → CL-kara 0 CL2, CL1-kara. → 0 CL-kara
Figure 2.╇ Diachronic process of kara-clauses
Yuko Higashiizumi
6. Conclusion The subordination – hypotaxis – parataxis continuum of complex clause constructions is more useful than the traditional dichotomy in analyzing the diachronic process and synchronic diversity of kara-clauses in conversational data in Japanese. Acknowledgements This paper is a revision of the one presented to the panel on “Subordination in conversation: crosslinguistic analyses of form-function matches” at the 10th International Pragmatics Conference in Gothenburg, Sweden, 8–13 July 2007. My special thanks go to Ritva Laury, Ryoko Suzuki, and the panel members and participants for their stimulating discussions and comments. A contrastive study of the English because-clause and the Japanese kara-clause from the perspective of grammaticalization was given at the 4th International Conference “New Reflections on Grammaticalization” in Leuven, Belgium, 16–19 July 2008. I sincerely thank Elizabeth Traugott and the participants for their insightful comments. I am grateful to Jane Boughton and Maggie Camp for correcting my English. All remaining errors and faults are my own. Abbreviations cl ger int nmlz nom ptcl vol
clause gerundive interjection nominalizer nominative particle volitional
References Alfonso, Anthony. 1980. Japanese Language Patterns: A Structural Approach. Tokyo: Sophia University L. L. Center of Applied Linguistics. Brinton, Laurel J. 1996. Pragmatic Markers in English: Grammaticalization and Discourse Functions. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Cristofaro, Sonia. 2003. Subordination. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Günthner, Susanne. 1996. “From subordination to coordination?: Verb-second position in German causal and concessive constructions.” Pragmatics 6 (3): 323–356.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
Haiman, John, and Thompson, Sandra A. 1984. “‘Subordination’ in universal grammar.” Berkeley Linguistics Society 10: 510–523. Higashiizumi, Yuko. 2006. From a Subordinate Clause to an Independent Clause: A History of English because-clause and Japanese kara-clause. Tokyo: Hituzi Syobo Publishing. Honda, Akira. 2005. Affordance no Ninti Imiron: Seitai-Sinrigaku kara Mita Bunpoo Gensyoo (An Affordance-theoretical Cognitive Semantics: Grammatical Phenomena Seen from an Ecological-Psychological View). Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press. Hopper, Paul J. and Traugott, Elizabeth C. 2003. Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Iguchi (Higashiizumi), Yuko. 1998. “Functional variety in the Japanese conjunctive particle kara ‘because’.” In Studies in Japanese Grammaticalization: Cognitive and Discourse Perspectives, Toshio Ohori (ed.), 99–128. Tokyo: Kurosio. Ishigaki, Kenji. 1955. Zyosi no Rekisiteki Kenkyuu (Historical Study of Particles). Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. Jacobs, Andreas and Jucker, Andreas H. 1995. “The historical perspective in pragmatics.” In Historical Pragmatics: Pragmatic Developments in the History of English, Andreas H. Jucker (ed.), 3–33. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Kobayashi, Kenji. 1996. Nihongo Zyooken Hyoogen-si no Kenkyuu (A Study of the History of Conditionals in Japanese). Tokyo: Hituzi Syobo. Konoshima, Masatoshi. 1966. Kokugo Zyosi no Kenkyuu: Zyosi-si Sobyoo (A Study of Particles in Japanese: An Outline of the History of Particles). Tokyo: Ofusha. Konoshima, Masatoshi. 1983. Zyodoosi Zyosi Gaisetu (An Outline of Auxiliaries and Particles). Tokyo: Ofusha. Lee, Reien. 2000. Nihongo Bogo Wasya no Zatudan ni Okeru “Monogatari” no Kenkyuu (A study of spoken narratives by native speakers of Japanese). Tokyo: Kurosio. Lehmann, Christian. 1988. “Towards a typology of clause linkage.” In Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse, John Haiman and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 181–225. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Lindström, Jan and Londén, Anne-Marie. 2007. “From syntactic to discursive subordination: Consecutive, adversative and causal conjunctions in Swedish conversation.” Paper presented to the panel on “Subordination in conversation: Crosslinguistic analyses of form-function matches” at the 10th International Pragmatics Conference in Göteborg, Sweden, 8–13 July 2007. Martin, Samuel. 1975. A Reference Grammar of Japanese. New Haven: Yale University Press. Masuoka, Takashi. 1997. Hukubun (Complex sentences). Tokyo: Kurosio. Matthiessen, Christian, and Thompson, Sandra A. 1988. “The structure of discourse and ‘subordination.’” In Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse. John Haiman and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 275–329. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Minami, Fujio. 1974. Gendai Nihongo no Koozoo (The Structure of Modern Japanese). Tokyo: Taishukan Shoten. Minami, Fujio. 1993. Gendai Nihongo Bunpoo no Rinkaku (The Outline of Modern Japanese Syntax). Tokyo: Taishukan Shoten. Nagano, Masaru. 1979 [1952]. “Kara to node wa doo tigau ka (How are kara and node different from each other?).” In Nihon no Gengogaku 4, Shiro Hattori, Susumu Ono, Atsuyoshi Sakakura, and Akira Matsumura (eds), 467–488. Tokyo: Taishukan Shoten. Nakayama, Toshihide, and Ichihashi-Nakayama, Kumiko. 1997. “Japanese kedo: discourse genre and grammaticization.” In Japanese/Korean Linguistics 6, Ho-min Sohn and John Haig (eds), 607–618. Stanford, CA.: CLSI.
Yuko Higashiizumi Ohori, Toshio. 1995. “Remarks on suspended clauses: A contribution to Japanese phraseology.” In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics, Masayoshi Shibatani and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 201–218. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Ohori, Toshio. 1997. “Framing effects in Japanese non-final clauses: Toward an optimal grammar – pragmatics interface.” Berkeley Linguistics Society 23: 471–480. Okamoto, Shigeko. 1995. “Pragmaticization of meaning in some sentence-final particles in Japanese.” In Essays in Semantics and Pragmatics, Masayoshi Shibatani and Sandra A. Thompson (eds), 219–246. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Onodera, Noriko O. 2004. Japanese Discourse Markers: Synchronic and Diachronic Discourse Analysis. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Quirk, Randolph, Greenbaum, Sidney, Leech, Geoffrey, and Svartvik, Jan. 1985. A Comprehensive Grammar of the English Language. London: Longman. Shirakawa, Hiroyuki. 1995. “Riyuu o arawasanai kara (Kara that does not express reason).” In Hukubun no Kenkyuu, zyoo (Studies of Complex Sentences, vol. 1), Yoshio Nitta (ed.), 189–219. Tokyo: Kurosio. Shirakawa, Hiroyuki. 2009. ‘Iisasi-bun’ no Kenkyuu (Studies on Suspended Sentences). Tokyo: Kurosio. Suzuki, Ryoko. 1999. Grammaticization in Japanese: A Study of Pragmatic Particle-ization. Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara. Suzuki, Ryoko. 2009. “Interactional profile of causal kara-clause in Japanese conversation: Because ‘main’ clause is there or not.” Paper presented to the panel on “Clause combining in discourse: the interplay between structure and pragmatics” at the 11th International Pragmatics Conference, Melbourne, Australia, 12–17 July 2009. Sweetser, Eve. 1990. From Etymology to Pragmatics: Metaphorical and Cultural Aspects of Semantic Structure. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Takubo, Yukinori. 1987. “Toogo koozoo to bunmyaku zyoohoo (Syntactic structure and contextual information).” Nihongogaku 6 (5): 37–48. Traugott, Elizabeth Closs. 2003. “From subjectification to intersubjectification.” In Motives for Language Change, Raymond Hickey (ed.), 124–139. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uno, Ryoko. 2009. Detecting and Sharing Perspectives Using Causals in Japanese. Tokyo: Hituzi Syobo Publishing. Verstraete, Jean-Christophe. 2007. Rethinking the Coordinate – Subordinate Dichotomy: Interpersonal Grammar and the Analysis of Adverbial Clauses in English. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Yabe, Hiroko. 1997. “Nokketyau kara ne-kara soositeorimasu node-made (From nokketyau kara ne to soositeorimasu node).” In Zyosei no Kotoba: Syokuba-hen (Women’s language: In the workplace), Gendai Nihongo Kenkyuukai (ed.), 139–154. Tokyo: Hituzi Syobo Publishing. Yabe, Hiroko. 2002. “Kara-to node-no siyoo ni miru syokuba no dansei-no gengokoodoo (Men’s language use in the workplace seen from the use of kara and node).” In Dansei no Kotoba: Syokuba-hen (Men’s Language: In the workplace), Gendai Nihongo Kenkyuukai (ed.), 133–148. Tokyo: Hituzi Syobo Publishing. Yamaguchi, Gyoji. 1996. Nihongo Setuzokuhoosiron (A Theory of the History of Clause Linkage in Japanese). Osaka: Izumi Shoin. Yoshii, Kazuto. 1977. “Kindai Tokyoogo ingakankei hyoogen-no tuuziteki koosatu: kara to nodeo tyuusin-to-site (A diachronic consideration of the expression of causal relation in the modern Tokyo dialect: With special reference to kara and node).” Kokugogaku 110: 19–36.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
Appendix List of Data and URL 1592. Amakusaban Heike Monogatari [NBTF] 1593. Amakusaban Isoho Monogatari [NBTF] 1703. Sonezaki sinzyuu, by Chikamatsu Monzaemon. Chikamatsu Zyoorurisyuu. Tokyo: Yuhodo. 1912–1914. [JTIC]. 1713. Sukeroku. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 98. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1965. [NKB]. 1721. Sinzyuu yoigoosin, by Chikamatsu Monzaemon. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 49. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1736. Sibaraku. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 98. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1965. [NKB]. 1742. Kenuki. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 98. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1965. [NKB]. 1748. Kanadehon tyuusingura, by Izumo Takeda, Miyoshi Shoraku, and Namiki Senryu. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1937. [JTIC]. 1770. Tatumi no sono, by Muchusanjin Negoto Sensei. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1770. Yuusihoogen, by Inakaroojin Tadano Jijii. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1772. Kanoko moti, by Kimuro Booun. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 100. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1966. [NKB]. 1773. Kiki zyoozu, by Komatsuya Hyakki. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 100. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1966. [NKB]. 1776. Koomanzai angya nikki, by Koikawa Harumachi. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1778 (?). Dootyuu sugoroku. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1779. Tai no misozu, by Shokusanjin. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 100. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1966. [NKB]. 1782. Gozonzi no syoobaimono, by Kitao Masanobu. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1783. Uzisyuui, by Shumokuan Aruji. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1785. Daihi no senroppon, by Shiba Zenko. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1785. Edo umare uwaki no kabayaki, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1785. Kiruna no ne kara kane no naru ki, by Tourai Sanna. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1787. Soomagaki, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1788. Bunbu nidoo mangoku toosi, by Houseido Kisanji. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1789. Koosizima tokini aizome, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB].
Yuko Higashiizumi 1790. Keiseikai syizyuuhatte, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1790. Shingaku hayasomekusa, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1791. Nisiki no ura, by Santo Kyoden. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1795. Katakiuti gizyo no hanabusa, by Nansensho Somahito. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1798. Keiseikai hutasuzimiti, by Umebori Kokuga. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 59. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1801. Meika no tokuu mimasu no tamagaki, by Sakurada Jisuke. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 54. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1961. [NKB]. 1802–1822. Tokaidootyuu hizakurige, by Jippensha Ikku. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 62. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1958. [NKB]. 1809. Ukiyoburo, by Shikitei Samba. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 63. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1957. [NKB]. 1813. Osome Hisamatu ukina no yomiuri, by Tsuruya Namboku. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 54. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1961. [NKB]. 1832–1833. Syunsyoku umegoyomi, by Tamenaga Shunsui. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 64. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1962. [NKB]. 1833–35. Syunsyoku tatumi no sono, by Tamenaga Shunsui. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 64. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1962. [NKB]. 1842 (?). Kagekiyo. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 98. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1965. [NKB]. 1843. Narukami. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 98. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1965. [NKB]. 1859. Kosode soga azami no ironui, by Kawatake Mokuami. Koten Nihon Bungaku Taikei 54. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1961. [NKB]. 1887. Ukigumo, by Futabatei Shimei. Tokyo: Shun’yodo. 1947. [JTIC]. 1895. Takekurabe, by Higuchi, Ichiyo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1896. Wakaremiti, by Higuchi, Ichiyo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1897. Konzikiyasya, by Ozaki, Koyo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1902. Zyunsa, by Kunikida, Doppo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1906. Kusamakura, by Natsume, Soseki. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1907. Heibon, by Futabatei, Shimei. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1912–1913. Gan, by Mori Ogai. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten. 1948. [JTIC]. 1914. Kokoro, by Natsume, Soseki. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1918. Umareizuru nayami, by Arishima, Takeo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1918. Zigokuhen, by Akutagawa Ryunosuke. Tokyo: Hosokawa Shoten. 1947. [JTIC]. 1920. Yuuzyoo, by Mushanokoji, Saneatsu. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1924. Tizin no ai, by Tanizaki, Jun’ichiro. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1927. Kappa, by Akutagawa Ryunosuke. Tokyo: Hosokawa Shoten. 1946. [JTIC]. 1935. Aside, by Ishikawa, Jun. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1936. Kaze tatinu, by Hori, Tatsuo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha.
Are kara ‘because’-clauses causal subordinate clauses in present-day Japanese?
1941. Roboo no isi, by Yamamoto, Yuzo. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1947. Syozyo kaitai, by Ishikawa, Jun. Shinchoo-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1952. Nobi, by Oka, Shohei. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1956. Kinkakuzi, by Mishima, Yukio. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1964. Nireke no hitobito, by Kita, Morio. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1967. Amerika hiziki, by Nosaka, Akiyuki. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1970. Kokoo no hito, by Nitta, Jiro. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1978. Shimbashi karasumoriguti seisyun-hen, by Shina, Makoto. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1982. Issyun no natu, by Sawaki, Kotaro. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. 1985. Taroo monogatari, kookoo hen, by Sono, Ayako. Shincho-bunko no 100-satsu. Tokyo: Shinchosha. (Z95–6), (Z95–15): 1995. Zatudan siryoo (Transcriptions of chats) in Lee (2000). 1999–2000. Osyaberi namatyuukei (Real-life chats) in Nihongo Journal (Japanese Journal), 1999.4–2000.3. Tokyo: Aruku.
URLs NBTF: Nihon Bungaku-too Text File (www.let.osaka-u.ac.jp/~okajima/bungaku.htm) JTIC: J apanese Text Initiative Collection, University of Virginia (http://etext.virginia.edu/japanese/texts.html) NKB: Nihon Koten Bungaku Sakuhin Database (http://www.nijl.ac.jp)
Teyuuka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
University of Helsinki and UC Santa Cruz The English I mean and the Japanese teyuuka differ syntactically and semantically, but they have similar pragmatized uses. Both verbs, mean and yuu, function as regular verbs in main clauses and also as part of formulaic expressions which indicate a modal meaning with respect to an utterance, or project back to an earlier utterance and index it as inadequate or in need of modification. Both constructions can also frame another expression as a modification of the earlier utterance. They also function metacommunicatively to manage the interaction on a strategic level. The article compares the structure and functions of these two constructions in conversation and shows how structurally different expressions used in certain kinds of discourse and interactional contexts have come to serve similar but not identical pragmatic needs.
1. Introduction. In this study, we consider two constructions: the English I mean and the Japanese teyuuka (and its variant forms, such as tteyuuka, toiimasuka). Each of these expressions has been studied extensively, but separately (e.g. Schiffrin 1987; Imo 2006; Brinton 2007; Maynard 2004; Kitano 2005; McGloin 2007). The verbs mean and yuu ‘say’ both can and do function as complement-taking predicates (CTPs; Thompson 2002), as illustrated in Examples (1) and (2).
(1) By reading I mean that I treat the charts as texts and attempt to tease out the assumptions that go into constructing it (FLOB; Brinton 2007: 44).
(2) Uun, watashi mata tsuretette tte yuu no ne. no me again take prt say prt prt ‘No, please take me (with you) again, she says.’ In its CTP use, as in (1), I mean is followed by the complementizer that, which in turn is followed by the complement clause; that is, it has the structure of ‘I mean
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
that X (complement clause)’. In (2) tte is a quotative particle, indicating that what precedes it, or its complement, is reported speech; it is then followed by yuu ‘say’ without an overt subject; that is, it has the structure of ‘X (complement clause) tte yuu’. The particle ka in teyuuka is a question marker (cf. McGloin 2007). As these descriptions show, the syntactic and semantic composition of I mean and teyuuka are quite different from each other. However, I mean and teyuuka have similar pragmaticized uses in which they do not function as prototypical matrix clauses but instead serve as formulaic expressions or grammatical constructions which indicate a modal meaning with respect to the “main” part of the utterance, or serve to project back to an earlier utterance and index it as inadequate or in need of modification. Both can also frame another expression as a modification of the earlier utterance. That is, they function metalinguistically. They also appear to function metacommunicatively; in other words, they serve to manage the interaction underway on a strategic level (Hopper & Thompson 2008; see also Günthner, this volume; Pekarek Doehler, this volume; Koivisto, Laury & Seppänen, this volume). In this study, we examine the structure and functions of these two constructions in conversation and consider how and why they are similar to and different from each other. Through this comparison, we hope to show how structurally quite different expressions used in certain kinds of discourse and interactional contexts come to “acquire” similar but not identical pragmatic functions. 2. Data The data for I mean come from the Santa Barbara Corpus of Spoken American English (Du Bois et al. 2000–20051); those for teyuuka are drawn from a corpus of twelve Japanese conversations (each from 20 to 30 minutes long) taped and transcribed by the second author, as well as transcripts of twenty two interviews of female high school students by a male writer (Murakami 1998).2
1. In the Du Bois et al. transcription system, line breaks indicate intonation unit boundaries, and line final punctuation reflects intonation contours. Two dots represent short pauses, while three dots represent longer pauses. Brackets are used to indicate overlap between speakers. Numbers within brackets indicate who overlaps with whom. The following symbols are used: @ (laughter quality), % (glottalization), = (lengthening), H (inhalation). Segments of talk marked with X represent uncertain hearings, segments marked with MRC indicate marked voice quality, and segments marked with P are said more quietly than surrounding talk. 2. Ryu Murakami, a well-known writer, interviewed 51 female high school students (2, 3, or 4 students at a time). The transcripts of these interviews are published in a book form; however, they are not detailed transcripts that would include pauses, overlaps, etc.
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
3. The structure and function of I mean 3.1
The syntactic environments of I mean
Although it is clear that mean functions in English as a complement-taking predicate (see discussion in Section 1 and Example (1)), in many previous studies, I mean has been classified as a – pragmatic parenthetical3 (e.g. Stenström 1995; Brinton 2007) – discourse marker (Schiffrin 1987, Imo 2005) – discourse particle (Goldberg 1980) The use of these terms shows that in its use as a formulaic expression, I mean has come to resemble other expressions in English and in other languages typically containing speech act verbs or mental verbs such as the English think, guess and know, which, together with a first- or second-person subject, have become through frequent use phonetically reduced and de-syntacticized, or particle-ized, so that they are no longer confined to use as complement-taking constructions, but can instead occur in a number of syntactic positions within an utterance without being followed by a nominal or clausal complement. (See, for example, Östman 1981, Thompson & Mulac 1991, Brinton 1996, 2007, Scheibman 2001, Thompson 2002, Kärkkäinen 2003 on English; Saari 1984, 1986 on Swedish; Keevallik 2003 on Estonian; Hakulinen, Keevallik Eriksson & Lindström 2003 on Finnish, Estonian and Swedish; Hakulinen & Seppänen 1992 on Finnish). Further, as we will show, and as shown by Kärkkäinen (2003, 2007) for I think and I guess, the particle-ization of I mean has advanced to the degree where it is used to link to other speakers’ utterances, and in that use, its meaning has been bleached to the degree where I can no longer be said to index the current speaker. In our data, I mean occurs in a variety of syntactic environments, as noted by other researchers studying this expression (see e.g. Imo 2005; Brinton 2007). Table 1 roughly summarizes the syntactic environments in which I mean occurred in our data. In the table, X is the utterance that I mean indexes as somehow inadequate or in need of modification, and Y is the utterance that does the modification. X and Y can be either phrases or clauses.
3. The term was originally (as far as we know) due to Urmson, who used it to refer to a class of verbs such as know and guess which are used “as signals guiding the hearer to a proper appreciation of the statement in its context, social, logical or evidential (1952: 495).” The term ‘(epistemic) parenthetical’, as well as ‘epistemic phrase’, is also used by Thompson and Mulac (1991). Another term we think would be appropriate for the use of I mean in our data is the term ‘(evaluative) fragment’ used by Thompson (2002) and Hopper & Thompson (2008).
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
Table 1.╇ Syntactic environments of I mean Utterance-medially:
X I mean Y
Utterance-initially:
X.4 I mean Y
Utterance-finally
X. Y I mean
(X and Y are uttered by the same speaker or different speakers; another turn may intervene.) (Another turn may intervene.)
The most frequent syntactic environment in which I mean occurs, as also noted in earlier studies (Brinton 2007: 43), is at the beginning of a clause, as in Example (3) below. This can be seen to reflect its original use as a main clause. However, in our spoken data, consistent with its status as a pragmatic parenthetical, I mean is never followed by the complementizer that. In Example (3), I mean, although it is followed by a full clause, is not best analyzed as a complement-taking main clause, because it is not followed by that, and because the clause that follows it is not an indirect question (and therefore not a complement clause) as shown by the word order. (3)
SBC0012.TRN 1 ... Who the hell do you know, 2 goes to a party in a suit. 3 (H) I mean who .. is this g=eek.
In our data, I mean also occurs clause-internally, although this is much more rare than clause-initial use. Example (4) shows a clause-internal use of I mean. (4)
SBC 0010.TRN 1 PHIL: Because in board discussion, 2 ... I mean, 3 BRAD: [Yeah]. 4 PHIL: [o-] on one hand, 5 as a member she has every right.
The syntactic unit which I mean occurs with or initiates does not need to be a clause, as shown in the next example. (5)
SBC 001 1 (H) And like in some of em? 2 ... (TSK) blood will spurt out, 3 you know, 4 and I mean,
4. In the table, the period indicates that the preceding utterance (X) has been brought to a close syntactically, prosodically and pragmatically (in the sense of Ford & Thompson 1996).
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
5 oh. 6 (H) It’s @nothing @ – 7 . In Example (5), I mean is followed by a particle, oh5. I mean has an especially strong affinity to you know; they often occur in the same turn, as in Example (5), and even immediately adjacent to each other, with either one occurring first. In the next example, the syntactic unit with which I mean occurs is a prepositional phrase. Example (6) also shows that in contrast to claims made in earlier research (e.g. Imo 2005), I mean also occurs in final position in an utterance. This excerpt comes from a multi-party conversation. Miles has just been telling about rather shocking events he has witnessed at a club that several of the participants are familiar with. Jamie then asks a clarification question. (6)
SBC0002.TRN 1 JAMIE: [So] – 2 This is all [2at Bahia2]? 3 MILES: [2strangers2]. 4 JAMIE: All this stuff happens at [3Bahia3]. 5 MILES: [3Yeah3]. 6 JAMIE: Hunh? 7 MILES: ... To %other people I mean. 8 H,_J,_P_LAUGHING_8.0_SEC))
It should be noted that in this example, in contrast to the other examples in our data, I mean is produced with a final intonation contour. Unlike the uses of I mean in our other examples, where it is produced with a non-final intonation contour, it does not project forward to more talk to follow here. The prepositional phrase uttered by Miles in line 7 can be analyzed as a syntactic extension of Jamie’s preceding turn in line 4 or perhaps as a continuation of Miles’ own turn in line 56. Obviously, in this syntactic position, as in clause-internal position (Example 4) and in 5. An interesting question here is how far I mean carries here. It is quite possible that in addition to the particle in line 5, the utterances in lines 6 and 7, which are said with a smile, are also meant as a modification (amplification or explanation) of what is reported in line 2. Oh is not lengthened or prosodically marked here, but it could still be affectively loaded; if I mean carries to lines 6 and 7, then the affect is not shown until the later lines. On the other hand, lines 6 and 7 could amplify the particle. Prosodically, of course, oh is more clearly linked to I mean than lines 6 and 7 are: line 4 ends with a non-final intonation contour, while line 5 ends with a final contour. 6. In a sense, it may not matter to the participants which utterance the prepositional phrase supplements or links to. Jamie’s turn in line 4 is a candidate understanding of Miles’ earlier telling, which Miles confirms in line 5, and then clarifies further in line 7. At this point, the stories have become a shared understanding.
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a position preceding a particle (Example 5), it cannot be considered a CTP, but rather it functions as a pragmatic parenthetical or particle. In this section, we have seen that I mean can occur in a number of syntactic positions. We have seen that it occurs initially in a clause (Example 3), clause-internally after an initial adverbial (4), before a particle (5), and after a clause-final adverbial, which may be retrospectively added to an already syntactically complete utterance, as in (6). In our data, we also found it preceding phrasal utterances and between clauses. However, I mean is at least rare constituent-internally: we did not find it in such environments in our data. This may be connected to the ‘tightness’ of English syntax, noted by Fox, Hayashi & Jasperson (1996). As can be seen from these examples, I mean occurs in syntactic positions where it cannot be characterized as a complement-taking construction, but rather functions as a particle. 3.2
The pragmatic function of I mean
Formulaic, grammaticalized expressions which originate from a combination of a speech act verb or mental verb with a first- or second-person subject have been characterized by Thompson (2002: 142–146) as “epistemic/evidential/evaluative fragments”, which are used by speakers to frame or to take a stance toward an utterance. The type of stance that I mean has been said to take toward an utterance could perhaps be most closely described as metalinguistically evaluative. In many previous studies the function of I mean has been discussed in terms of modification or ‘editing’ of various sorts, which may also be termed repair, in particular self-repair (Schiffrin 1987: 299). In that sense, it can be considered a metalinguistically evaluative device, since repair may be connected to a speaker’s evaluation of his or her own utterance as somehow inadequate or at least requiring modification (although it is clear that repair is associated with functions much beyond the correcting of mistakes, as already pointed out by Schegloff, Jefferson & Sacks 1977). This evaluation, of course, may be based on the speaker’s own intentions, and/or it may be based on feedback of various sorts from recipients. In addition to repairing a previous utterance or a part of it, I mean, as a metalinguistically evaluative device, can also be used to supplement it in various ways by elaborating, clarifying, expanding on, or explaining what has previously been said (for a useful summary, see Brinton 2007). In this paper, we take the position that the function, or basic meaning, of I mean is actually much more simple than has been previously discussed (see also Fox Tree & Schrock 2002). In our view, I mean indexes a connection between its associated utterance (the utterance it precedes or, in some cases, follows) and preceding talk, indicates that that preceding utterance is not quite adequate, and frames its associated utterance as an adjustment or modification (Schiffrin 1987),
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
most often to the speaker’s own talk but also, in a few examples in our data, to talk by others. More specific functions such as repair, elaboration, clarification, exemplification, mitigation, etc. are not specified by I mean but derive from the context and the semantic relationship between the earlier utterance and the utterance accompanied by I mean. Thus, I mean always links backward to the talk it makes relevant or evaluates as inadequate. In contrast to teyuuka (see below), I mean is always accompanied by an utterance intended as an adjustment or modification of the prior utterance. This utterance, as we saw in the preceding section, can either follow or, less commonly, precede I mean. In initial use, when it is pronounced with a non-final intonation contour, it projects more talk to follow, but it can also be used in syntactically and prosodically final position, where it does not project more talk, as shown in Example (6) above. Previous studies have noted that I mean is used in contexts of self-initiated same-turn self-repair (Goldberg 1980). We find it in just those contexts in our data as well. Example (7) contains such a use of I mean. (7)
SBC007.TRN 1 MARY: ... Hand me that ashtray. 2 ... Or your light, 3 I mean. 4 ...
. 5 ... (H) It’s behind the sewing machine. 6 (H)
In line 1, Mary asks the other participant in the conversation to hand her an ashtray. She then repairs her utterance with the phrase or your light in line 2, and appends I mean with a final intonation. The repair is accomplished, on the one hand, with the conjunction or which, in this pragmatic context, cannot be taken to index an alternative, but rather, a repair. On the other hand, it is accomplished by the use of I mean, which indexes that the preceding utterance is not adequate, and that the utterance associated with I mean (or your light) is meant as an adjustment. This is a typical use of I mean in self-repair: it occurs in the transition space between turns (Schegloff, Jefferson & Sacks 1977). Since Mary’s utterance in line 1 is a complete turn-constructional unit (TCU) semantically, syntactically and prosodically, a turn transition (either a verbal turn or other appropriate action) becomes relevant after Mary finishes. However, she produces another utterance, which is marked as a modification of prior talk both in the beginning of the TCU (or) and at the end (I mean). Although I mean is used in the context of self-repair in our data, this is not its most common function. It is most commonly used in contexts where a speaker, often in the middle of a lengthy turn, modifies her prior utterance in some other
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fashion. We found uses of I mean in all the contexts mentioned in earlier studies: in our data, it was used in contexts of elaboration, clarification, expansion, explication and reformulation, as well as specification, exemplification, and mitigation of various types (for a summary of use types, see Brinton 2007: 41). The next example comes from a two-party conversation and illustrates elaboration of a prior utterance. One of the participants is describing a party she recently attended. (8)
SBC0006 Cuz (795.93–811.11) 1 (H) I walk in, 2 and the first hint that there’s – 3 this is gonna be something a little bit unusual, 4 is there’s all these helium balloons? 5 ... ut- – 6 .. up at the ceiling? 7 .. (H) With X- uh metallic= color=ed streamers coming down, 8 three streamers, 9 each balloon, 10 I mean the whole ceiling is just packed with these helium balloons. 11 It was so much fun.
The speaker is describing entering the party, and seeing the balloons that the room was decorated with. I mean in line 10 initiates a clause which elaborates and upgrades the preceding description – the ceiling was just packed with the balloons. However, I mean can occur in contexts where the relationship of the utterances linked with I mean is just the opposite: I mean can also initiate a modification which mitigates, rather than upgrades, earlier talk, as in the next example. This example comes from the same conversation as Example (3); a lawyer is preparing a witness for trial. (9)
SBC008.TRN Tell the jury 639.92–651.90 1 REBECCA: Was he looking at you at [all during that time]. 2 RICKIE: [Ye=s. 3 The] <MRC who=le ... enti=re ... ti=me MRC>. 4 REBECCA: Okay. 5 RICKIE: I mean, 6 (H) not looking, 7 (H) at .
In lines 2–3, in answer to Rebecca’s question, Rickey answers emphatically that the suspect (he) was looking at her the who = le enti=re ti=me. After Rebecca’s short receipt of Rickey’s answer in line 4, in her I mean -initial turn, Rickie mitigates her answer by downgrading it to not looking, at first he would go like this, even, with the paper. Again, we suggest that the function of mitigation does not arise from the use of I mean but rather from the semantic relationship between the two utterances linked by I mean. Here, as in the previous example, I mean simply serves to index the relevance of what follows it to what Rickie has said earlier. As we have noted, most of the uses of I mean serve to modify the speaker’s own, earlier talk. This tendency is strong enough so that there can be an intervening turn by another participant, but the I mean-initial turn is still understood to modify its speaker’s earlier turn. Consider Example (10) below. It is taken from a three-party conversation. Pete is visiting his friends, Marilyn and Roy. Dinner is under preparation. (10)
SBC0003 Conceptual Pesticides 1414.57–1440.35 1 MARILYN: ... Should I make like tartar sauce, 2 or something really decadent? 3 ROY: ... What’s this in this squirt bottle? 4 MARILYN: ... U = m, 5 ... Windex. 6 ROY: ... I’m gonna use some of that. 7 PETE: Does tartar sauce go with .. with Cajun spices. 8 MARILYN: ... Well we could make – 9 PETE: ... I mean, 10 that doesn’t matter, 11 <X I suppose [it just X>] – 12 MARILYN: [Oh], 13 you know what, 14 we have this neat ... [island] ... man[2go sauce2]. 15 ROY: [<X Fields X>] – 16 PETE: [2Mm2] 17 ROY: [2((SNEEZE))2] 18 MARILYN: ... Chutney [3sauce3]. 19 ROY: [3Chut3]ney. 20 MARILYN: That would be good. 21 PETE: ... Yeah.
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22 MARILYN: ... I have tons of chutney. 23 PETE: ... [Well that sounds good]. 24 MARILYN: [Chutney]. In lines 1–2, Marilyn suggests that she might make a tartar sauce to go with the fish that is being prepared for dinner. In line 7, after an exchange between Roy and Marilyn about cleaning supplies he needs, Pete asks whether tartar sauce is appropriate with the spices the fish is flavored with. Marilyn responds by starting a turn which appears to begin an alternative suggestion. She cuts off her turn, leaving it syntactically incomplete. At that point, Pete starts an I mean -initial turn in line 9. This turn links back to his earlier turn in line 7; it is interpretable as a modification (mitigation) of his earlier turn and expresses that it does not matter whether tartar sauce goes with Cajun spices or not. It is not interpretable as a mitigation of Marilyn’s just preceding turn, which offers alternatives; that is, Pete is not suggesting that it does not matter that alternatives exist. Marilyn then comes up with an alternative, chutney, and Marilyn and Pete arrive at a consensus on the appropriateness of chutney in lines 20–24. This example shows that speakers can, with the use of I mean, link back to their own, previous utterance across another speaker’s turn. It also shows that utterances marked with I mean can serve to increase agreement, harmony or alignment in conversation. One point of disagreement in previous studies has been precisely whether the utterances marked with I mean are self-directed or other-directed. While it has been argued that I mean is speaker-oriented (Schiffrin 1987: 299) and not interactive (Edmondson 1981), it has also been suggested, by some of the same authors, that I mean is interactive, cooperative, and hearer-oriented (House & Kasper 1981, Schiffrin 1987: 305). Maynard (2006) found that utterances prefaced with I mean occur “with extreme regularity” in complaint sequences, where they accompany utterances that are threatening or delicate in some ways. In Maynard’s data, the I mean-prefaced utterances functioned to defuse the speaker’s own action and to elicit aligning responses from other participants. In other words, Maynard shows that I mean is used to elicit certain types of behavior from coparticipants, and in that sense, it is used in an other-directed way. In the preceding Example (10), Pete’s utterance in line 7 can be seen as threatening or at least delicate: since he is a guest, it may not be appropriate for him to suggest that his host’s choice of a food item is inappropriate, and his I mean -prefaced utterance in lines 9–11 can be seen as defusing his inappropriate comment. In other words, while Pete’s I mean-initial utterance links back to his own utterance, the comment does not deal with the accuracy, comprehensibility or adequacy of his earlier utterance, but rather with its social acceptability. As suggested by Maynard (2006) for I mean-prefaced utterances in his data, this utterance functions
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
to defuse the speaker’s utterance and to elicit alignment. In that sense, it can be seen as other-directed. In other examples in our data, speakers also use I mean in contexts where they are modifying their earlier utterances in such a way that they can be seen to be eliciting alignment from, or seeking alignment with, other participants. In the light of the preceding example, I mean can indeed be said to function in ways which are prosocial, interactive and addressee-oriented (House & Kasper 1981, Schiffrin 1987; Brinton 2007: 41). In fact, at the extreme end of the prosocial uses of I mean, we found uses of I mean in our data where the utterance it was associated with did not relate to any earlier utterance by its speaker, but rather was connected with an earlier utterance by another participant, or more broadly to a stance being collaboratively constructed by the participants. As we have seen, in Example (6), it is quite possible to analyze Miles’ turn To other people I mean as continuation of another participant’s turn, or, even more appropriately, more generally of an already shared understanding. The ability of I mean to link to utterances not produced by the speaker of I mean is shown in our next example, which comes from a conversation relating to problems within an arts organization. In the part of the conversation our example comes from, the participants are engaged in a lengthy negotiation about recent events at a meeting and their potential repercussions. The men appear to be in agreement that one of the members had acted inappropriately. (11)
SBC0010 Letter of concerns 1 BRAD: [She shouldn’t <X have done that X>]. 2 PHIL: and I didn’t [2wanna do anything2]. 3 BRAD: [2I know2]. 4 PHIL: But I just saw, 5 [(H) people] kinda going, 6 BRAD: [That was out] – 7 ... Yeah. 8 PHIL: You [know]? 9 BRAD: [Yeah]. 10 PHIL: And, 11 [(H)] 12 BRAD: [That’s true]. 13 She shouldn’t’ve been [2in on that <X at all X>2]. 14 PHIL: [2She shouldn’t’ve been2], 15 % you know, 16 cause that’s not part of her capacity, 17 she’s not [on that com]mittee, 18 BRAD: [Mhm].
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
19 [2Mhm2]. 20 PHIL: [2you know2], 21 and if she wants – 22 (H) you know, 23 ... % basically the thing is, 24 you know, 25 if she wanted to be a boa = rd person. 26 BRAD: Mhm. 27 PHIL: That’s fine. 28 I [mean let’s look] into b- pursuing that. 29 BRAD: [Right]. 30 Right. 31 PHIL: (H) = But see I’m afraid we’re gonna lose 32 Jim because of that. 33 ... he feels there’s a conflict. 34 And uh, 35 it’s definitely gonna [happen]. 36 BRAD: [(H)] I mean he says. 37 ... There’s no question about it, 38 we’ve [talked], 39 PHIL: [Yeah], 40 and maybe it’s right. 41 .. Maybe it s- [it is] gonna be right. 42 BRAD: [Yeah]. 43 PHIL: ... You know? 44 BRAD: (H) .. Well he – 45 ... d%= – 46 I mean he doesn’t seem to – 47 % % you’ve talked to him and I’ve [talked to him and], 48 PHIL: [(H) Well], 49 ...he [2seems to be2] – 50 BRAD: [2I mean he says2] mayb- – 51 you know, 52 after the board retreat. 53 [now]. 54 PHIL: [Yeah].
In this lengthy excerpt, where there is a considerable degree of agreement, there are four uses of I mean. We will concentrate here on the second use, in line 36.
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
I mean in initial position in Brad’s turn in line 36 precedes a clause which does not seem to modify any earlier utterance by Brad himself, but instead, it seems to be connected to Phil’s just preceding utterance. In his turn in lines 31–35, Phil proposes that Jim is going to resign as a consequence of the proposed addition to the board discussed just previously. Brad’s I mean -prefaced utterance can be interpreted as confirming or emphasizing the likelihood of the consequence that Phil has just suggested. He provides evidence for its likelihood by an utterance that functions evidentially. He says in Brad’s utterance can be taken as a retrospective supplement, an insertable (Couper-Kuhlen and Ono 2007), to the beginning of Brad’s utterance in line 33, he feels there’s a conflict or to his utterance in line 35, it’s definitely gonna happen, or both. The import of Brad’s turn consists of reporting that Jim has said himself that he will resign. That is, Brad’s turn counts as an agreeing response and moreover, he suggests that Jim’s intent to resign is something Brad has heard from Jim himself. Ultimately, just as in Example (6) above, it is not crucial to the participants whose utterance he says supplements. Its function is to add further strength to the co-constructed stance that the conflict is likely to result in Jim’s resignation. This example makes it seem likely that the interpersonal nature of the contexts in which I mean occurs, such as complaint sequences to elicit alignment, and in other contexts where it is used in prosocial ways, have broadened the function of I mean so that it can also be used in contexts where it marks utterances intended as modifications of other speakers’ utterances. This emphasizes the important point that utterances which express a speaker’s point of view or a stance and are in that sense subjective, are always also public actions, done in a dialogic and interactional context, always have an intersubjective component as well (e.g. Kärkkäinen 2003; Kärkkäinen 2007; Du Bois 2007). In this section, we have shown that I mean occurs regularly in contexts where an utterance is linked to a just preceding utterance and is designed to modify it in a number of ways. We suggest that the function of I mean is to link the utterance it is associated with to an earlier utterance, and to mark it as a modification of that earlier utterance. The exact nature of the modification, whether it be a repair, explanation, elaboration or a mitigation, is determined by the syntactic, semantic and pragmatic relationship of the utterances thus linked. Previous studies have suggested that I mean is used to modify its speaker’s own, earlier utterance, but our data show that like the Japanese teyuuka, which will be discussed next, I mean is also used to modify utterances produced by other speakers. We take it to be its use in contexts where it is used prosocially use to seek alignment from other speakers which has motivated this perhaps relatively novel use.
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4. Structure and Function of teyuuka 4. 1
The syntactic environments of teyuuka
The syntactic position of teyuuka is quite flexible. It can occur in an utterance initial, -medial, or -final position (Lauwereyns 2001, 2002; Maynard 2004; Kitano 2005; McGloin 2007). It may also occur within a phrase or word (Kitano 2005). Although both I mean and teyuuka are quite flexible in the syntactic position in which they occur, teyuuka occurs in a greater variety of syntactic positions than I mean in that it can occur within a syntactic unit such as a noun phrase or a compound verb, and that it can be used without being followed by any expression intended to remedy or supplement the expression that precedes it. Example (12) below shows an example of utterance-medial use of teyuuka. (12) [SM, talking with her mother SH at home] no, 1 SM: Jooshi tteyuuka7 ue superior higher gen 2 SH: un, uh huh 3 SM: Itoo-san te hito ga konaida, Ka, Kankoku prt person sm the other day Korea 4 SH: un, uh huh 5 SM: Chuugoku itte, China went ‘My superior, or/I mean higher(-ranking), person, (uh huh) Ito went to Korea, (uh huh), China, the other day,’ Table 2.╇ Syntactic environments of teyuuka Utterance-medially:
X teyuuka Y
Utterance-initially:
X. Teyuuka Y (X and Y are uttered by the same speaker or different speakers.) X teyuuka. X1 teyuuka X2 (X1 and X2 constitute a syntactic unit that normally occurs as a whole without any interruption.)
Utterance-finally: Within a phrase/word:
7. Forms such as tteyuuka, toyuuka, and toiimasuka are variants of teyuuka. Tteyuuka tends to appear after a vowel (Example 12), teyuuka tends to appear after a consonant (Example 13). Toyuuka and toiimasuka are stylistically more formal teyuuka, with the latter being the most formal.
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
Example (13) shows an utterance-initial use. (13) [MR, a writer, interviewing two female high school students, including MK. Source: Murakami (1998: 46)] 1 MR: Hoka ni kyoodai wa? other siblings tm ‘Do you have siblings?’ 2 MK: Shita ni futari. below two ‘I have two younger (siblings).’ 3 MR: Kyoodai naka ii n desho? Siblings relation good right ‘You (siblings) get along well, right?’ 4 MK: E:: demo, watashi no koto wa kiratteru. Uh, but me gn thing tm dislike 5
Sono futari wa naka yokute, those two tm relation good
6 atashi dake zenzen yoritsukanai. me only at all approach neg ‘Uh, they dislike me. Those two get along well, but they don’t approach me at all.’ 7 MR: Ammari hanasanai no? Not so much talk neg prt ‘You don’t talk with them much?’ 8 MK: U::n, teyuuka watashi ga chotto kite tte ittemo konai uh I sm a little come prt say even if come neg 9 Yada toka itte. do not want or something saying ‘No, it’s not (like we don’t talk), but even if I tell them to come, they won’t come, saying “they don’t want to” or something.’ In Example (13), MK uses a token of teyuuka which projects back to the immediately preceding utterance made by her interlocutor MR. We have also found cases in which the utterance-initial teyuuka that projects back to the immediately preceding utterance made by the same speaker. Example (14) illustrates the utterance-final use of teyuuka.
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(14) [MR, a male writer, interviewing two high school girls. Source: Murakami (1998: 70)] 1 MR: Demo, futaritomo nanka shikkari-shita kanji ga surushi, but two both somehow reliable feeling sm do and 2 dochira ka tte ittara otonappoi tteyuuka. which Q prt say if adult-like ‘But I feel both of you are reliable and, rather (lit. if I say which one), adult-like, I might say. Example (15) illustrates the toyuuka (a variant of teyuuka) that appears within a syntactic unit. (15) [Source: Kitano 2005: 108] 1 De daisetsugen toyuuka and large snow prairie 2 no tokoro de hikooki ga tomarimashite ne. gn place in plane sm stop ah prt ‘And the plane stopped in a place like a large snow prairie/a place that is a large snow prairie, so to speak, right?’ In (15) toyuuka is inserted within a constituent, the genitive postpositional phrase daisetsugen no ‘of a large snow prairie’; that is, it interrupts this syntactic unit in that the genitive marker no normally follows a noun phrase immediately as in daisetsugen no. In this section, we have seen that teyuuka can occur in a number of syntactic environments; it can occur clause-medially, clause-initially, or clause-finally. In our data, teyuuka was used in all of these three positions relatively frequently, in contrast to I mean, which was only rarely used in utterance-final position. Further, teyuuka, unlike I mean, may also occur within a constituent, or a syntactic unit that is normally uninterrupted, although we found only a few cases of this use in our data. 4.2
Pragmatic functions of teyuuka
The functions of teyuuka have been characterized variously by previous studies. The utterance-medial teyuuka is most commonly regarded as a repair-initiator (Lauwereyns 2001, 2002; Wakamatsu and Hosoda 2003; Kitano 2005; McGloin 2007; Rosenthal 2008); it is also recognized as an initiator for rephrasing, specification, or supplementary explanation (Lauwereyns 2001). The utterance-initial teyuuka is characterized as an initiator for a repair or metalinguistic negation (Lauwereyns 2001, 2002; McGloin 2007; Rosenthal 2008), a preface for expressing
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
one’s true feelings (Maynard 2004), a preface for a (sub-)topic shift (Lauwereyns 2001, 2002; Maynard 2004; McGloin 2007), or a device for reframing what has been said in the preceding discourse (Ono 2006). The utterance-final teyuuka is treated as a means for mitigation or blurring, or for expressing hesitation (Lauwereyns 2001; Maynard 2004; McGloin 2007). Taking the findings of these previous studies into consideration, we attempt to provide further analyses of the functions of teyuuka. In this study, we characterize the basic function of teyuuka in terms of the speaker’s evaluative stance toward the adequacy of the expression that precedes it. That is, teyuuka gives a metalinguistic comment on the preceding expression. More specifically, teyuuka indicates that the speaker thinks that the expression in question is not fully adequate or appropriate in the context as it evolves, and that another expression could be given to remedy or supplement its inadequacy (cf. Maynard 2004). Other functions, such as initiating an attenuated correction, elaboration, specification, and generalization can be considered ramifications of this basic function of teyuuka that arise in specific contexts. That is, the inadequacy of the utterance that precedes teyuuka may be remedied or supplemented by another utterance, which in turn serves a variety of functions such as a mitigated correction and elaboration. Alternatively, the speaker may choose not to provide another utterance at all (which is not possible with I mean). That is, he/she simply indicates that what has just been said is not adequate, which in turn may serve to mitigate or qualify that utterance. We will discuss these points with examples. In the case of utterance-medial teyuuka (X teyuuka Y), the speaker first indicates the inadequacy of what he/she has just said by teyuuka and then attempts to remedy or supplement this inadequacy in some way by adding another expression, which in turn may be interpreted in a variety of ways, including a mitigated correction, rephrasing, specification, expansion, elaboration, explanation, and generalization. In other words, teyuuka can be considered a prelude to another expression that serves these functions. Let us discuss these functions with examples. As pointed out by previous studies, teyuuka may be used as a (weak) repairinitiator (e.g. Lauwereyns 2001; Wakamatsu and Hosoda 2003). We emphasize that the basic function of teyuuka is not to point out that the utterance that precedes teyuuka is totally incorrect or wrong, but to indicate that it is not fully adequate or appropriate (cf. Maynard 2004). If the speaker wishes to make an overt correction, he/she can use a more direct expression, such as X ja nakute Y ‘it’s not X, but Y’. Teyuuka, on the other hand, can be used to make a correction, repair, or modification more indirectly. Accordingly, it is often used to correct what the interlocutor said in an oblique way, as illustrated in Example (16):
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
(16) [MR, a male writer, is interviewing SK and YK, female high school students. Source: Murakami (1998: 24)] 1 MR: U::n, demo atama no warui otoko no ko tte omoshiroku nai desho? uh but unintelligent boy interesting neg right? ‘Uh, but unintelligent boys are not interesting, are they?’ 2 SK: Ima no kookoosei minna atama warui yo ne. nowadays high school all unintelligent prt prt ‘High school students these days are all unintelligent, aren’t they?’ 3 YK: Atama warui tteyuuka, unintelligent 4
benkyoo toka no hoo ja nakute, study etc. gen side neg
5 chigau hoo de atama ii. different side in intelligent ‘It’s not like they are unintelligent, but rather they are intelligent in areas other than academic areas/study and the like.’ In this example, tteyuuka is used in other-repair. YK first repeats the expression used by SK and MR in their previous turns, and adds tteyuuka to indicate that the expression is inadequate. She then offers another expression (lines 4–5) to remedy the inadequacy of the expression that preceded tteyuuka. This use of teyuuka differs from the use of I mean; in our data, I mean was not used in other-repair.8 However, like I mean, teyuuka may also be used in self-repair, when the speaker wishes to mitigate his/her own utterance, as illustrated in Example (17): (17) [TK and YM, female college students, talking about beauty shops.] 1 TK: Aa, demo biyooin sagasanakya::. uh, but beauty shop find have to inakunatchatta kara. disappear pst because ‘Uh, I have to find a (new) beauty shop. Because (it) disappeared.’ 2 YM: A, soo ka. Inakunatchatta n da ne. Oh, right disappear pst aux prt ‘Oh, that’s right. (It) disappeared, didn’t it?’ 8. Although, as shown in Example (11), it can be used to comment (amplify) an utterance by another speaker.
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
3 TK: Sugo::i hetakuso tteyuuka sa::, very unskilled prt 4
umakunai good neg ‘(She) was very bad/unskilled, uh, I mean not good.’
5 YM:
Aa. yeah ‘Yeah.’
6 TK: Soo, konaida itta tokoro ga. Right, the other day go pst place sm ‘Right, the place I went the other day.’ In this example, in line 3, TK first characterizes (the hair-stylist at) the beauty shop as sugo::i hetakuso ‘very bad/unskillful’, and, within the same turn, uses tteyuuka, followed by the particle sa::, a filler that suggests TK’s hesitation about her word choice; she then uses umakunai ‘not good/skillful’, which is milder than sugo::I hetakuso. Like I mean, teyuuka may also be used in self-repair in contexts that do not involve mitigation, when the speaker is not satisfied with an expression and attempts to rephrase it, or give an alternative expression, as in Example (12) above. The use of teyuuka in that example is parallel to the use of I mean in our Example (7), where it is found in same-turn self-repair. The speaker may also attempt to supplement the inadequacy of an expression by adding teyuuka followed by another expression that serves as a specification, expansion, elaboration, or explanation of the first expression, as illustrated in (18) and (19): (18) [HE and NY are female college students; NY, talking about her experience she had with her host family in England.] 1 NY: De:: tamago mo ikkai-shika denakute, and eggs also once only served ‘And eggs were also served only once, and’ 2 HE: I::! ah ‘Ah!’ 3 NY: Dakara atashi sa Nihonshoku tteyuuka, sa, so I prt Japanese food prt 4
ano, o, o, osenbei suggoi takusan motte itta no ne. uh rice cracker very much take prt prt ‘So I took a lot of Japanese food with me, I mean, rice crackers.’
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
In this example, the expression which follows tteyuuka, osenbei ‘rice crackers’, functions as a specification of the type of Japanese food that speaker NY reports taking with her. (19) [HE and NY, female college students, talking about going skiing.] 1 HE: Ne:: sukii ikitai. hey ski go want ‘Hey, I want to go skiing.’ 2 NY: Dokka ii toko, nai? somewhere nice place not exit 3 NY: Ii tooko tteyuuka, nice place 4 NY: yasui, yasuku, yasukute tomareru tte tokoro cheap cheap cheaply stay can prt place nai kana. not exist prt ‘Is there any nice place? Nice place, I mean, a place where we can stay cheaply.’ Note that the expression that follows teyuuka may be interpreted as serving more than one function. Thus, for example, in (19), what follows tteyuuka may be considered a rephrasing of what precedes it as well as an elaboration or explanation. The expression that follows in tteyuuka in (16) can be interpreted as serving to mitigate as well as to explain. In contrast to the previous usage, in which teyuuka serves to initiate a specification or elaboration of the preceding expression, the speaker may use teyuuka to initiate a generalization of what was said before teyuuka, as illustrated in (20): (20) [IT, a graduate student, talking with OY, her former professor] 1 IT: Ano:: toriaezu, Uh- first ‘Uh’ 2 OY: Un. Yeah ‘Yeah’ 3 IT: Ano::, puririkuijitto tteyuuka, soo yuu kurasu wa Uh- prerequisites such classes tm zenbu oetan desu yo. all finish pst AH prt ‘Uh-, I’ve finished (taking) all prerequisites, I mean courses like that.’
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
The functions of utterance-initial teyuuka are basically the same as those of utterance-medial use except for a couple of properties discussed below. In the case of teyuuka occurring utterance-initially (X. Teyuuka Y), a particular utterance reaches some kind of completion point (e.g. the end of a sentence, intonation unit, or turn). The same speaker or her/his interlocutor then says teyuuka and supplies another expression to make up for the inadequacy of the preceding utterance in some way. The utterance that follows teyuuka then may be interpreted as serving a variety of functions – the same functions as in the case of the utterance-medial teyuuka discussed above. For example, in the earlier Example (13), what follows teyuuka serves as a rephrasing of the preceding utterance suggesting that the speaker may have thought it was not quite accurate. In Example (21), the expression that follows teyuuka serves as a mitigation of the preceding utterance, suggesting that the speaker may have thought that her preceding utterance was too negative. (21) [MR, a male writer, interviewing two female high school students, including MK. Source: Murakami (1998: 36)] 1 MR: Matsuda-san wa okaasan toka otoosan no koto doo? hon tm mother etc. father gen thing how 2
Suki desu ka? like AH Q ‘Do you like your mother and father (and the like)?’
3 MK: E? kirai. [laugh] what? dislike ‘What? I don’t like them.’ 4 MR: Soo, dooshite? I see why 5
Chitchai koro wa? small time tm
6
Shoogakusei toka sa, primary school pupil etc. prt
7 shoogakkoo no teigakunen toka. primary school gen lower level etc. ‘I see. Why? (How about) when you were small, like when you were a primary school, lower-level primary school pupil and the like?’ 8 Shoogakoo no toki mo sukijanai. primary school gen time also like neg 9 Tteyuuka oboetenai. remember neg
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10 Ichiban kirai ni natta no ga shoo-yon. most dislike become nom tm grade 4 ‘I didn’t like them either when I was in the primary school. I mean I don’t remember. It was when I was in the 4th grade that I came to dislike them most.’ In this example, speaker MK first indicates in line 8 that she did not like her parents when she was in primary school. After the utterance reaches a completion point, she uses tteyuuka and adds a mitigating utterance, oboetenai ‘ I don’t remember’, which is vaguer than sukijanai ‘do not like’. Similarly, in Example (17), what follows tteyuuka serves to mitigate the force of the preceding expression. One function that seems peculiar to the utterance-initial teyuuka is its role as an initiator for a (sub-)topic shift (Lauwereyns 2001; Maynard 2004), as in (22). (22) [MR, a male writer, interviewing four high school girls, including HY. They are talking about the so-called enjo koosai ‘compensated dating’, in which older men pay high school girls for their companionship, which may include sexual “service.” Source: Murakami (1996: 126)] 1 MR: Demo ijoo wa ijoo da yo ne. but abnormal tm abnormal cop prt prt 2 Konna koto yatteru no Nihon dake da yo. such things do prg gen Japan only cop prt ‘But it’s really abnormal (lit. abnormal is abnormal). It’s only in Japan (people) do such things.’ 3 HY: Baka da ne::. stupid cop prt 4 Tteyuuka nande konnan natta n ka ne. why like this become pst prt Q prt 5 Dare da, ichiban saisho ni yatta no. who cop number 1 first do pst prt ‘They are stupid, aren’t they! I mean why have things become like this? Who started it first?” In Example (13), MR criticizes enjo koosai in lines 1 and 2. HY also expresses her critical view of enjo koosai in line 3. She then says tteyuuka and introduces a new sub-topic in lines 4 and 5 – the reasons why many high school girls have come to engage in enjo kossai and who started it. HY’s utterances in lines 4 and 5 are not corrections, exemplifications, or specifications of her earlier utterance in line 3. In the case of utterance-final position (X teyuuka), no overt expression follows teyuuka; the speaker simply indicates that he/she is not fully satisfied with the
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
expression he/she has just used, which in turn may serve to mitigate and/or modify the preceding utterance. As pointed out by previous studies (e.g. Maynard 2004; McGloin 2007), the utterance-final teyuuka is often used for mitigation of the force of the preceding utterance, as illustrated in Example (23): (23) [MR, a writer, is interviewing YM and MK, female high school students. Source: Murakami (1998: 43–44)] 1 MR: Kore yatteru toki tanoshii toka tte yuu koto aru? this do prg when fun or something prt say thing exist ‘Is there anything that you feel fun or something when you’re doing it?’ 2 YM: Ee. Nai. uh. No ‘Uh. No (there isn’t).’s 3 MR: Karaoke shiteru toki tte? do prg time prt ‘When you are doing karaoke, (is it fun)?’ 4 YM: Un, sore mo tanoshii, tanoshii kedo, yeah that also fun fun but 5 YM: sonna sugoku tanoshiku wa nai tteyuuka. that extremely fun tm neg ‘Yeah, that’s also fun, it’s fun, but it’s not that fun, I mean.’ 6 MR: Maa sonna ni ne. well not so prt ‘Well, (it’s not) that much (fun), right?’ 7 YM: Tanoshii koto dewa nai. fun thing cop neg ‘It’s not (such) a fun thing.’ In line 3 in (23), MR asks if YM enjoys doing karaoke. YM first responds positively in line 4, but then in line 5 she says she doesn’t enjoy it that much and then adds tteyuuka and ends her utterance. By adding tteyuuka at the end of her utterance, YM can indicate (at least on the surface) that she is not quite satisfied with what she has just said, which in turn can make her utterance less forceful in giving a negative answer to MR. It seems YM used this strategy because she might have thought MR was expecting a positive answer that can lead to further talk about the topic. Similarly, in the earlier Example (14), the addition of tteyuuka utterance-finally in line 2 can serve to indicate that the expression (otonappoi ‘adult-like’) that the speaker has chosen may not be a fully appropriate description that is acceptable
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
to the interlocutors. In examples like these, teyuuka could be said to have the interactional motivation of seeking alignment or approval from another participant. The speaker may also use teyuuka simply to indicate that his/her word choice may not be perfect, as illustrated in (24), in which NY is not sure if the word abutta is appropriate to describe the food she was talking about: (24) [NY and HE are female college students; NY, talking about the experience she had with her host family in England.] 1 NY: De, koshoo mo shio mo ajitsuke- shitenakute, and black pepper also salt also seasoning do neg 2 roosuto beefu data no ne? roast beef was prt prt ‘And it wasn’t seasoned either with black pepper or salt, right? It was roast beef.’ 3 HE: Un. yeah ‘Yeah.’ 4 NY: Maa, chotto abu, abutta tteyuuka. uh a little bit grill pst ‘Uh, it was grilled a little bit, so to speak.’ As we have seen so far, teyuuka normally precedes or follows a word, phrase or clause. However, as noted earlier, teyuuka may also occur within a phrase or word (Kitano 2005), as in Example (25). Further, teyuuka may occur more than once in the same utterance, as illustrated also in Example (25): (25) [NY and IN, middle-aged women, talking about the trip they made recently with other women.] 1 NY: Ano:: watashi-tachi ga kankoo-annai de mita uh we sm travel guide in see pst basho yori wa motto kitsukute ne? place than tm more tough prt ‘It was tougher (to walk) than what we expected from (lit. saw in) the travel guidebook, right?” 2 IN: Soo. right ‘Right.’ 3 NY: Chotto kokorogamae mo nakatta kara, a little preparedness also have neg so ‘I wasn’t prepared (for it), so,’
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
4 IN: ==Un un. yeah yeah ‘Yeah, yeah.’ 5 NY: ==chotto dokidoki tteyuuka, a little anxious ‘I was a little kind of anxious, or’ 6 IN: ==Un yeah ‘Yeah’ 7 NY: bikkuri tteyuuka shita kedo ne. surprise do pst but prt ‘kind of surprised, right?’ In (25), NY first says dokidoki and adds tteyuuka, indicating she is not fully content with this word choice; she then offers bikkuri as an alternative to dokidoki but adds tteyuuka to it, too, indicating she is not fully happy with that word, either. But she does not offer another alternative expression and instead links tteyuuka directly to shita, or the second part of the compound verb bikkuri-shita ‘was surprised’. Thus, Example (25) also illustrates the case in which teyuuka interrupts a particular syntactic unit (in this case, a compound verb) that normally occurs as a whole. Example (15), as we discussed earlier, also shows the use of teyuuka within a phrase (i.e., daisetsugen toyuuka no tokoro ‘a place like a large snow prairie’) in order to indicate that the speaker is not fully happy with the word daisetsugen. In this section, we have shown that the basic function of teyuuka is to indicate that the speaker regards the expression in question as inadequate. The speaker then may make another explicit expression, which can serve various functions, including repair, attenuated correction, specification, elaboration, explanation, exemplification, and generalization. Alternatively, the speaker may end the utterance with teyuuka without providing any utterance that could supplement or remedy the inadequacy of the preceding utterance. This serves to mitigate the force of the utterance that precedes teyuuka. 5. Discussion and conclusion The foregoing discussion of the properties of I mean and teyuuka show that the two expressions are quite different from each other in their syntactic and semantic makeup and yet have similar but not identical pragmatic functions. In the
Ritva Laury and Shigeko Okamoto
remainder of this chapter, we consider further how and why these two constructions are similar to and different from each other. On the basis of our close analyses of conversational data, we argue that both I mean and teyuuka can be used to index and negotiate a metalinguistically evaluative stance toward an expression that precedes them rather than contributing directly to the main content of the conversational sequence they appear in. More specifically, both expressions serve to look back to an earlier utterance, either by the same speaker or by another speaker, and to mark it as inadequate or in need of modification. Both can also frame another expression as a modification of the earlier utterance, and in this way they may function as an initiator for, or project, more talk which serves as a modification or expansion of the prior expression, such as repair, elaboration, exemplification, generalization, specification, or and mitigation. However, unlike previous studies which assign specific functions (e.g. repair, mitigation) to these constructions, we suggest that the function of I mean and teyuuka is to simply mark the earlier expression as inadequate, and the latter expression as a modification of the former. The exact nature of the modification is not specified by I mean or teyuuka per se, but arises from the semantic, pragmatic and syntactic relationship between the two utterances. We also argue that the pragmatic functions associated with I mean and teyuuka, may be considered conventionalized implicatures – meanings associated with their use in certain types of contexts – contexts which serve to evoke certain metalinguistic as well as interactional needs. The properties of I mean and teyuuka we have analyzed illustrate flexibility and creativity in language use. English and Japanese make use of (syntactically and semantically) quite different resources available to them to satisfy similar, if not the same, pragmatic needs that arise in discourse. At the same time, they also show that while the pragmatic functions of the two constructions are very similar to each other, they are not identical, a finding that seems to be related to the syntactic and semantic differences of the two expressions. In our data, I mean is always accompanied by the expression intended to modify or supplement the earlier expression, but teyuuka can be used without the modification. This can be seen to stem from the syntactic and semantic nature of teyuuka as a clause-final expression, which simply questions the adequacy of its “complement,” that is, what precedes teyuuka, and from the syntactic and semantic nature (and still most frequent use) of I mean as a clause- and phrase-initial expression that projects forward, in a sense expects the “complement” to follow. In addition, I mean cannot do otherrepair in our data (although it can supplement or support talk by another, as in Examples 6 and 11), but teyuuka can. This can be attributed to the fact that I mean is person-marked and thus, in its original use, indexes its speaker’s meaning, while teyuuka is not person-marked. The fact that teyuuka comes after its “complement”
Teyuu ka and I mean as pragmatic parentheticals in Japanese and English
clause makes it a useful device for other-repair, since something that is said can be made into a complement after the fact (cf. Tanaka 2001). The original, or basic, meaning of I mean has to do with speaker intentions (Brinton 2007), while yuu is a verb of saying. As mentioned above, I mean is marked for person, while teyuuka is not. Both are used to make a metalinguistic comment, that is, they are used to express the speaker’s evaluation of the adequacy of an earlier utterance. Both are also used in contexts where there is negotiation or adjustment of meanings of the expressions used based on interactional concerns (Maynard 2004). Maynard discusses the dialogicity of teyuuka. As we have shown above, I mean also occurs in contexts where the modifications its associated utterance accomplishes are motivated in the needs, actions and utterances of other participants. In these contexts, the indexical features of the utterance are also bleached, so that I no longer indexes the current speaker. It appears that I mean has more of a meta-communicative, intersubjective function than teyuuka, which may be related to the fact that the latter is not marked for person and can function more on the metalinguistic level by interpreting the agent of yuu generically; however, this point requires more study. Both constructions can be said to function as pragmatic parentheticals. However, teyuuka is more flexible syntactically in that it can used within a syntactic unit such as a phrase or word. This may mean that teyuuka is further advanced in its development toward a parenthetical, or it may reflect differences in repair practices in the two languages. If in fact I mean is less advanced in its grammaticalization path, but has more of a meta-communicative, intersubjective function than teyuuka, it provides a puzzle for the theory of grammaticalization, since it has been assumed that as grammaticalization proceeds, items progress from subjective to intersubjective functions (Traugott 2003: but see Brinton 2007). These observations indicate that even if two constructions in two separate languages may share structural and functional similarities, they are still not identical, and one may have functions the other one does not share, so they may not even conveniently fit underneath one crosslinguistically valid, universal category label (Dryer 1997; see also Englebretson 2008). Dryer suggests that rather than reflecting unified crosslinguistic phenomena, similarities between structures in different languages actually reflect a high degree of isomorphism between structure and function, an observation consistent with the findings of the present study. References Brinton, Laurel. 1996. Pragmatic Markers in English: Grammaticalization and Discourse Functions. Berlin/New York: Mouton de Gruyter.
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Name index A Aijmer, Karin╇ 14, 18, 24, 27, 29, 30 Alfonso, Anthony╇ 194, 195, 202 Altmann, Hans╇ 19, 23, 30 Auer, Peter╇ 2–4, 6–8, 12, 15, 18, 19, 22, 23, 25, 28, 30, 31, 41, 60, 66, 73, 89, 97, 98, 103, 104, 106, 109, 111, 113, 117, 127, 141, 142, 145, 147, 167, 168, 171–173, 175–177, 180–182, 187, 188 B Bakhtin, M. M.╇ 71, 98 Barden, Brigit╇ 172, 188 Barth-Weingarten, Dagmar╇ 153, 163 Berrendonner, Alain╇ 104, 120, 145 Birkner, Karin╇ 12, 31 Blanche-Benveniste, Claire╇ 105, 120, 124, 145 Brinton, Laurel J.╇ 49, 66, 172, 188, 196, 202, 209, 211, 212, 214, 216, 219, 235, 236 Bücker, Jörg╇ 12, 31, 32 Buscha, Joachim╇ 173, 188 Bybee, Joan╇ 1, 8, 37, 66, 149, 163, 182, 186, 188, 236 C Couper-Kuhlen, Elizabeth╇ 1, 2, 12, 15, 19, 48, 59, 94, 103, 109, 110, 127, 139, 141, 149, 153, 175, 176, 221 Cristofaro, Sonia╇ 2, 8, 14, 20, 31, 69, 72, 98, 191, 202 Croft, William╇ 12, 19, 31, 172, 182, 188 Cruse, Alan D.╇ 182, 188 Curl, Traci╇ 57, 66 D Dasher, Richard╇ 149, 164 Deulofeu, Henri-José╇ 104, 145
Deppermann, Arnulf╇ 12, 31, 103, 147, 187 De Stefani, Elwys╇ 121, 147 Diessel, Holger╇ 23, 31 Dixon, R.M.W.╇ 2 Drach, Erich╇ 183, 188 Drew, Paul╇ 57, 66, 94, 98, 129 Dryer, Matthew╇ 235 Du Bois, John W.╇ 210, 221 Duvallon, Outi╇ 137, 145 E Edmondson, Willis╇ 23, 31, 173, 188, 218, 236 Elmauer, Ute╇ 173, 188 Elstermann, Mechthild╇ 12, 31, 172, 188 Englebretson, Robert╇ 2, 8, 38, 66, 149, 163, 235, 236 Erelt, Mati╇ 38, 57, 66 Erman, Britt╇ 172, 188 Etelämäki, Marja╇ 2 F Fiehler, Reinhard╇ 147, 172, 187, 188 Ford, Cecilia╇ 89, 98, 100, 103, 123, 143, 145, 175, 176, 188, 212, 236 Fox, Barbara╇ 89, 98, 164, 188, 214, 236 Fox Tree, Jean E.╇ 214 Fraser, Bruce╇ 172, 188 Freywald, Ulrike╇ 167, 188 Fried, Miriam╇ 12, 31 G Givón, Talmy╇ 2 Goffman, Erving╇ 7, 8, 70, 71, 76, 82, 85, 98 Gohl, Christine╇ 23, 31, 172, 182, 188 Goldberg, Adele E.╇ 12, 31, 107, 145 Goldberg, Julia Anna╇ 211, 215, 236
Goodwin, Charles╇ 70, 85, 104, 135, 137 Goodwin, Marjorie H.╇ 70 Günthner, Susanne╇ vii, 2–8, 11–14, 18, 19, 22, 23, 27, 28, 30–32, 49, 66, 74, 75, 104–106, 109, 113, 117, 123–125, 127, 134, 139, 141, 145, 146, 169, 172, 177, 182, 185, 188, 189, 201, 202, 210 H Haiman, John╇ 1, 8, 9, 30, 32, 33, 67, 69, 98, 99, 146, 191, 203, 236 Hakulinen, Auli╇ 43, 66, 70, 86, 91, 98, 145, 211, 236 Halonen, Mia╇ 94, 98 Haspelmath, Martin╇ 185, 188 Hayashi, Makoto╇ 103, 106, 110, 135, 137, 146, 214, 236 Heine, Bernd╇ 1, 9, 10, 34, 67, 147, 149, 163, 164, 238 Helbig, Gerhard╇ 173, 188 Higashiizumi (Iguchi), Yuko╇ vii, 5–7, 153, 164, 191, 192, 194, 195, 203 Honda, Akira╇ 195, 203 Hopper, Paul╇ 1, 2, 6, 7, 9, 12, 14, 18, 19, 28–30, 32, 33, 37, 49, 66, 73–76, 80, 98, 99, 105, 106, 108, 109, 123–127, 133–135, 138, 139, 141–143, 146, 149, 151–154, 164, 169, 170, 185–187, 189–191, 193, 194, 201, 203, 210, 211, 236 Horlacher, Anne-Sylvie╇ 121, 147 Hosoda, Yuri╇ 224, 225 House, Juliane╇ 173, 218, 219 Hwang, Shin Ja╇ 2, 10 I Ichihashi-Nakayama, Kumiko╇ 153, 164, 192, 203 Imo, Wolfgang╇ vii, 5, 7, 12, 19, 22, 23, 28, 30–33, 74, 109, 113, 117, 127, 141, 146, 165, 167–170, 185, 186, 188, 189, 209, 211, 213, 237
Subordination in Conversation Ishigaki, Kenji╇ 193, 203 J Jacobs, Andreas╇ 192, 203 Jacques, Francis╇ 112, 146 Jasperson, Robert╇ 214 Jefferson, Gail╇ 37, 67, 88, 89, 98, 100, 103, 130, 147, 214, 215, 238 Jucker, Andreas H.╇ 188, 192, 203 Jullien, Stéphane╇ 108, 120, 146, 147 K Kärkkäinen, Elise╇ 73, 74, 99, 100, 211, 221, 237 Kasper, Gabriele╇ 218, 219 Keevallik, Leelo╇ vii, 3–5, 7, 18, 23, 37, 42, 43, 54, 56, 57, 60, 62, 66, 67, 74, 95, 99, 211, 236, 237 Keevallik Erikson, Leelo╇ 43, 211 Kelly, John╇ 87, 99 Kitano, Hiroaki╇ 209, 222, 224, 232 Kitzinger, Celia╇ 2, 4, 9, 77, 80, 99 Kobayashi, Kenji╇ 193, 203 Koivisto, Aino╇ vii, 3, 4, 7, 69, 70, 86, 89, 92, 98, 99, 142, 210 Konoshima, Masatoshi╇ 193, 203 König, Ekkehard╇ 2 Kroon, Caroline╇ 172, 189 Kuteva, Tania╇ 149, 163 L Laitinen, Lea╇ 75, 99 Lambrecht, Knud╇ 12, 13, 33, 108, 120, 146 Langacker, Ronald W.╇ 2, 9, 13, 14, 18, 21, 33, 38, 67, 69, 72, 73, 80, 96, 99, 108, 146, 168, 171, 176–178, 180, 182, 186, 189 Laury, Ritva╇ vii, 1–7, 9, 11, 18, 20, 23, 33, 38, 66, 67, 69–71, 74, 76, 81, 86, 95, 98–100, 103, 113, 142, 146, 162, 164, 182, 187, 189, 190, 202, 209, 210, 236 Lauwereyns, Shizuka╇ 222, 224, 225, 230 Lee, Reien╇ 192, 203, 207 Lehmann, Christian╇ 191, 203 Leino, Jaakko╇ 81, 99 Lenk, Uta╇ 172, 189 Lerner, Gene H.╇ 2, 4, 9, 77, 80, 99, 103, 111, 146 Lindén, Eeva╇ 81, 99 Lindholm, Camilla╇ 43, 46, 54, 67
Lindström, Jan╇ 43, 46, 48, 54, 57, 66, 67, 196, 203, 211, 236 Linell, Per╇ 186, 189 Local, John╇ 87, 99, 164 Londén, Anne-Marie╇ 237 Longacre, Robert E. ╇ 2, 10 M Martin, Samuel╇ 193 Masuoka, Takashi╇ 194, 203 Matthiessen, Christian╇ 2, 9, 20, 30, 33, 67, 69, 99, 104, 146, 191, 203 Maynard, Douglas╇ 218 Maynard, Senko╇ 209, 222, 225, 230, 231, 235 McCarthy, Michael J.╇ 2 McGloin, Naomi H.╇ 209, 210, 222, 224, 225, 231 Miller, Jim╇ 16, 31, 33 Minami, Fujio╇ 194, 203 Mulac, Anthony╇ 7, 9, 23, 30, 34, 38, 57, 67, 109, 113, 117, 147, 153, 164, 165, 170, 182, 184, 190, 211, 238 Mulder, Jean╇ 86, 89, 99, 153, 164 Müller,Gabriele╇ 108, 123, 132, 135, 143, 147 Munro, Pamela╇ 81, 99 N Nagano, Masaru╇ 193, 203 Nakayama, Toshihide╇ 153, 164, 192, 203 Norén, Kerstin╇ 186, 189 O Ochs, Elinor╇ 1, 9, 33, 67, 103, 125, 145, 147, 149, 164, 236 Ogden, Richard╇ 87, 88, 99, 100 Ohori, Toshio╇ 153, 164, 192, 195, 196, 203, 204 Okamoto, Shigeko╇ vii, 5–7, 18, 23, 86, 100, 113, 150, 151, 153, 154, 160, 162, 164, 182, 192, 204, 209 Ono, Tsuyoshi╇ 12, 15, 31, 33, 86, 100, 149, 150, 163, 164, 175, 176, 188, 203, 221, 225, 236, 237 Onodera, Noriko O.╇ 192, 204 Östman, Jan-Ola╇ 12, 31, 73, 100, 211, 237
P Payne, Thomas E.╇ 37, 67 Pekarek Doehler, Simona╇ vii, 3–5, 7, 18, 74, 75, 103, 106, 107, 111, 121, 143, 147, 182, 210 Pomerantz, Anita M.╇ 29, 33, 112, 147 Q Quirk, Randolph╇ 195, 204 R Raussi, Anne╇ 70, 71, 100 Raymond, Geoffrey╇ 92, 95, 100, 204 Rehbein, Jochen╇ 23, 30, 33, 182, 189 Routarinne, Sara╇ 82, 88, 100, 137, 145 S Saari, Mirja╇ 211, 237 Sacks, Harvey╇ 27, 33, 37, 67, 85, 88, 100, 103, 147, 214, 215, 238 Schegloff, Emanuel A.╇ 1, 2, 9, 12, 18, 33, 37, 41, 46, 67, 85, 87, 88, 100, 103, 104, 125, 126, 141, 145, 147, 149, 164, 214, 215, 236, 238 Scheibman, Joanne╇ 74, 100, 186, 188, 211, 238 Scheutz, Hannes╇ 19, 23, 34 Schiffrin, Deborah╇ 94, 100, 172, 189, 209, 211, 214, 218, 219, 238 Schmid, Hans-Jörg╇ 13, 16, 27, 34 Schmidt, Renate╇ 34, 189 Schönherr, Beatrice ╇ 180, 189 Schourup, Lawrence C.╇ 172, 189 Schrock, Josef C.╇ 214 Schumacher, Helmut╇ 165, 189 Schwitalla, Johannes╇ 23, 34 Selting, Margaret╇ 1, 8, 9, 19, 23, 34, 98, 103, 104, 125, 145, 147, 149, 164, 165, 169, 175, 189, 238 Seppänen, Eeva-Leena╇ viii, 3, 4, 7, 69–71, 74, 76, 81, 85, 86, 95, 99, 100, 142, 187, 189, 210, 211, 236 Shirakawa, Hiroyuki╇ 194, 195, 204 Shore, Susanna╇ 77, 100 Stenström, Anna-Brita╇ 211 Stoltenburg, Benjamin╇ 180, 182, 189
Name index Suzuki, Ryoko╇ viii, 3, 5, 7, 149, 150, 153, 154, 160, 192, 195, 202 Suzuki, Satoko╇ 150 Sweetser, Eve╇ 193–197, 204 T Takubo, Yukinori╇ 194, 195, 204 Talmy, Leonard╇ 2, 8, 9 Tanaka, Hiroko╇ 235 Tannen, Deborah╇ 75, 100 Tao, Hongyin╇ 2, 9 Thim-Mabrey, Christiane╇ 172, 189 Thompson, Sandra A.╇ 1–4, 7–10, 12, 18–20, 23, 29–34, 38, 45, 49, 57, 59, 66, 67, 69, 70, 72–76, 80, 86, 89, 94, 96, 98–100, 103–106, 108–110, 113, 117, 123–125, 127, 133, 135, 139, 141, 142, 145–147, 149, 153, 162, 164, 165, 170, 182, 184, 188–191, 203, 204, 209–212, 214, 236, 238
Tomasello, Michael╇ 23, 31, 66, 189 Traugott, Elizabeth C.╇ 1, 6, 9, 10, 34, 67, 126, 141, 146, 147, 149, 151–154, 164, 185, 186, 189–191, 193, 194, 198, 201–204, 235, 238
Weinert, Regina╇ 16, 33
U Uno, Ryoko╇ 194, 204 Urmson, James O.╇ 211
Z Zifonun, Gisela╇ 19, 23, 34
V Valli, André╇ 124, 132, 147 van der Auwera, Johan╇ 2, 9 Verhagen, Arie╇ 29, 34 Verstraete, Jean-Christophe╇ 191, 204 W Walker, Gareth╇ 87, 99 Waltereit, Richard╇ 45, 67 Wakamatsu, Makiko╇ 224, 225
Y Yabe, Hiroko╇ 195, 204 Yamaguchi, Gyoji╇ 193, 195, 204 Yoshii, Kazuto╇ 193, 194, 198, 204
Subject index A action╇ 2–3, 17, 18, 62, 70, 72–73, 76–77, 79–82, 84–86, 91, 95–97, 109 main╇ 55, 65, 72, 76, 81, 96–97, 116 142 projection╇ 41–54, 64–65, 70, 85, 111, 113, 116–117, 126, 127–142 sequence╇ 38, 44, 46, 48, 61 65, 103–104, 110–125 type╇ 42, 45, 65 see also subordination activity main╇ 2, 70, 76, 77, 82, 95, 97 assessment╇ 58–63, 134 B biclausal sentence/construction╇ 29–30, 104–105, 117 C clause dependent╇ 15, 20 38, 42 57 152–155, 162, 171; see also subordinate clause dependent main╇ 167, 173, 182, 184–185 complement╇ 13–18, 20–24, 27–30, 37–39, 41–49, 51–53, 59–60, 70, 72 87–88, 91, 107–108, 113, 142, 151–154, 209–210, 212 independent╇ 20–21, 23, 38, 42, 47, 64, 113, 120, 150–155, 157–160, 162, 177, 196 main╇ 2–3, 13–24, 26–30, 38–39 45, 47–49, 51–52, 55, 60, 70, 72, 73ff, 75–76 82, 96, 104, 113, 117, 142, 150–151, 153–156, 160–162, 166–187, 192–201, 210, 212 matrix clause, see main clause
subordinate╇ 2–3, 13–19, 20, 23, 27–30, 37–39, 47–48, 51–52, 63, 64–65, 70, 75–76, 81–82, 84–85, 104, 106, 117, 133, 142, 152–154, 156, 165–168, 170, 171–173, 177, 180, 181, 184, 185, 191–202, clause combining╇ 104, 151–152, 196Â�–198 clause structure╇ 152 cleft presentational cleft╇ 105, 106, 108, 117–123, 142, 143╇ pseudocleft╇ 103, 105–108, 123–125, 135, 138 wh-cleft╇ 107Â�–108, 109–110 123–125 127 135–138, 139–141 clines╇ 181–184, 193–195, 201 communicative practices╇ 162 complementation╇ 37–38 complement clause, see clause complementizer╇ 14, 20, 27, 28, 60, 70–71, 73–82 88–89, 95, 96, 150–151, 154, 160, 162, 165, 167 complement╇ 13, 24, 30, 37–39, 45, 47, 49, 51, 53, 55, 61, 81, 86–91, 96, 105–110, 113, 117, 161, 181–184, 234–235 subject complement╇ 13, 39, 61 object complements╇ 39 53, 173 complement-taking construction╇ 23, 86, 211–214 complement-taking predicates╇ 37–58, 64, 70–82, 86, 88, 96–97, 165, 170, 182–184, 209 conjunction╇ 38, 70ff, 89, 166–167, 173 speech-act╇ 193, 195, 197–201 subordinating╇ 17, 38 166, 167
Construction Grammar╇ 11–13 construction╇ 11–14, 16–19 27–30, 74, 107–110 143–144, 149, 150–154, 169 182–187, 238 conversational action, see action coordination╇ 29–30, 104, 191 CTP, see complement-taking predicate CTP-phrase, see complementtaking predicate; see also complement-taking construction CTV, see complement-taking construction D declarative╇ 22, 59–60 discourse marker╇ 113, 117, 141, 171–173, 176–177, 181–182, 184–185, 211 displacement marker╇ 44 E elliptical╇ 39, 58, 60, 151, 160 Emergent Grammar╇ 1, 9, 142–143, 186–187 epistemic╇ 38, 39, 42, 49, 53, 55–58, 62–64, 72–76, 82 112–113, 117, 153, 182, 184, 185ff, 198–201, 211ff conjunction╇ 193, 194, 197 particle╇ 38 verb╇ 184 F footing╇ 74, 76 formulaic╇ 29, 42, 74, 76, 81, 97, 117, 123, 124, 209–211, 214 G grammaticalization╇ 1, 28–29, 51, 54, 60, 108–109, 113, 126, 138, 141, 151–154, 185–186, 193–195, 201 grammaticization see grammaticalization
Subordination in Conversation H hedge╇ 61 I imperative╇ 38, 40–42, 45, 46, 48–49, 50, 53, 54ff, 57 increment╇ 175–178, 181 Interactional Linguistics╇ 1, 11, 104, 106, 110 interrogative clause╇ 38, 40, 43, 45, 47–59, 61–64 intonation unit╇ 48, 58, 64, 210ff, 229 inversion╇ 42, 47, 48, 51, 57, 64, 170, 194 M meaning potentials╇ 186, 187 metacommunicative╇ 71, 76, 82, 85 96, 97, 209, 210 multi-unit╇ 46, 105, 106, 121–123, 125, 130, 133–139, 143 O on-line╇ 104, 106, 142, 143 P parataxis╇ 29, 104, 121, 194, 195, 197–198, 201 participantframework╇ 69–71, 73, 80–81, 96–97 particle conjunctive╇ 191 final╇ 70, 71 86–96, 150–151, 160, 192
pragmatic╇ 42ff, 47 65, 150, 161, 181 question╇ 38 quotative╇ 210 turn-final╇ 57–58, 63, 64, 86–95, 97 utterance-final╇ 154 utterance-initial╇ 65, 82–86 politeness╇ 56, 58 pragmatic marker╇ 141, 172, 181, 187, 196, 197 preface╇ 42ff, 45–48, 56–57, 224, 225 profile╇ 2, 18, 38, 45, 57, 64–65, 72–73 80, 96–97, 168–169, 175–179, 180–181, 183 determinacy╇ 18, 168, 176, 180, 181 interactionally profiled╇ 45 projection╇ 2–3, 14, 15–19, 20–30, 41–54, 64–65, 70, 71, 74–75, 76 84, 85, 87–97, 103–144, 175, 180, 182, 210, 213, 215, 223, 234 routinized╇ 143 see also action projection prosody╇ 17, 20, 22, 23, 38, 46, 48, 52, 58, 63, 64, 74, 82, 83, 86–87, 116, 117, 123, 124, 126, 132–133, 139, 141, 175, 177, 180, 213 Q question╇ 37–65, 79–81, 87–91, 94, 133, 160, 193, 197 210, 213 frame╇ 43, 53–54, 63 indirect╇ 36, 79, 212
see also interrogative complements quotative╇ 149–162, 210 R referent╇ 46, 108 routinization╇ 29, 110, 124, 126, 141, 143–144, 172, 187 S sequencing of actions see action stance╇ 60 strategic management of interaction╇ 73, 76, 80, 82, 97, 209, 210 subjectification╇ 186, 187 subjective╇ 38, 193–194, 221, 235 subordination,╇ 1–3, 13, 23–24, 27–30 45, 57–58, 64–65, 69–72, 84–86, 91–97, 98–100, 104–106, 108–110, 111, 116–117, 129, 138, 139, 141–142, 152–153, 164–168, 175, 177–178, 181–184, 187, 191, 192, 196, 201–203 actional╇ 2–3, 82, 86, 91–96, 116, 129, 138 discursive╇ 196 subordinate clause, see clause╇ subordinating conjunction, see conjunction T topic╇ 42–44, 49, 53, 62ff, 63–64, 65, 73, 87–89, 230