Syntax: A Functional-Typological Introduction: Vol I

Syntax

Syntax An Introduction Volume I

T. Givón

John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam/Philadelphia

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TM

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Givón, Talmy. Syntax : An introduction / T. Givón-- Rev. ed. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Grammar, Comparative and general--Syntax. 2. Typology (Linguistics) 3. Functionalism (Linguistics) I. Title P291.G5
2001 isbn 90 272 2577 X (v. 1) (Eur.) / 1 58811 065 6 (v. 1) (US) (Hb; alk. paper) isbn 90 272 2578 8 (v. 1) (Eur.) / 1 58811 066 4 (v. 1) (US) (Pb; alk. paper)

2001035857

© 2001 – T. Givón No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. John Benjamins Publishing Co. · P.O. Box 36224 · 1020 me Amsterdam · The Netherlands John Benjamins North America · P.O. Box 27519 · Philadelphia pa 19118-0519 · usa

To Ken Hale, a linguist’s linguist, a cowboy’s cowboy.



Table of contents

Preface
xv Chapter 1 The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar
1 1.1 Perspective
1 1.1.1 Antecedence
1 1.1.2 Structuralism
4 1.1.3 Direct descent
7 1.2 The role of grammar in human information processing
7 1.2.1 The cognitive representation system
7 1.2.2 Peripheral sensory-motor codes
11 1.2.3 The grammatical code
11 1.3 Grammatical vs. pre-grammatical communication
13 1.4 The limits of conscious reflection
16 1.5 The theme-and-variation approach to syntax
18 1.6 The typological approach to grammar: Functional domains, cross-language diversity and universals
20 1.6.1 The functional basis of grammatical typology
20 1.6.2 The diachronic underpinnings of grammatical typology
23 1.6.3 Typology and universals of grammar
24 1.6.4 Ranges of typological variation
25 1.7 Generativity and variation
26 1.7.1 The bounds of rule-governedness
26 1.7.2 Categories, continua and prototypes
28 1.8 Iconicity, naturalness and markedness
34 1.8.1 Iconicity vs. arbitrariness
34 1.8.2 Markedness, complexity and frequency
37 1.9 On the use, and uses, of this book
41 Chapter 2 The lexicon: Words and morphemes
43 2.1 Preliminaries
43 2.1.1 Recapitulation: Meaning, information, discourse
43 2.1.2 Semantic features and semantic fields
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2.2 Lexical vs. grammatical vocabulary44 2.2.1 Words and morphemes44 2.2.2 Morphemic status, morphotactics, and writing systems48 2.3 Major lexical word-classes49 2.3.1 Membership criteria49 2.3.2 Pragmatic limits of semantic taxonomies50 2.3.3 Semantic criteria: An overview50 2.3.4 Morphotactics: Affixes, clitics and inflections54 2.4 Nouns55 2.4.1 Semantic characterization55 2.4.2 Syntactic characteristics59 2.4.3 Morphological characteristics60 2.5 Verbs69 2.5.1 Semantic characterization69 2.5.2 Syntactic characterization69 2.5.3 Morphological characterization69 2.6 Adjectives81 2.6.1 Semantic characterization81 2.6.2 Syntactic characterization84 2.6.3 Morphological characteristics85 2.7 Adverbs87 2.7.1 Preamble87 2.7.2 Semantic classification88 2.8 Minor word classes94 2.8.1 Preamble94 2.8.2 Adpositions95 2.8.3 Determiners97 2.8.4 Independent subject and object pronouns99 2.8.5 Inter-clausal connectives99 2.8.6 Quantifiers, numerals and ordinals100 2.8.7 Auxiliary verbs102 2.8.8 Interjections102 Chapter 3 Simple verbal clauses and argument structure105 3.1 Preliminaries105 3.1.1 Orientation105 3.1.2 States, events, and actions106 3.1.3 Semantic roles106 3.1.4 Grammatical relations108 3.1.5 Transitivity109 3.2 Phrase structure and tree diagrams110 3.2.1 What the formalism is good for110 3.2.2 What the formalism is not good for114

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The classification of verbs and simple clauses118 3.3.1 Dummy-subject verbs118 3.3.2 Copular clauses and copular verbs120 3.3.3 Simple intransitive verbs125 3.3.4 Simple transitive verbs126 3.3.5 Intransitive verbs with an indirect object136 3.3.6 Bi-transitive verbs141 3.3.7 Verbs with clausal (verbal) complements149 3.3.8 Multiple membership in verb classes160 3.4 Optional participant case-roles161 3.5 Distributed lexical verbs162 3.5.1 Complex predicates distributed across the clause163 3.5.2 Multiple stems distributed across the verbal word167 3.3

Chapter 4 Grammatical relations and case-marking systems173 4.1 Orientation173 4.2 Semantic roles vs. grammatical relations: The dissociation test173 4.3 Formal properties of grammatical relations175 4.3.1 Overt coding properties175 4.3.2 Behavior-and-control properties177 4.3.3 Universality and variation: The prototype approach to grammatical relations194 4.3.4 Functional correlates of grammatical relations195 4.4 The typology of case-marking systems197 4.4.1 Preliminaries197 4.4.2 Topicality and grammatical relations198 4.4.3 Major types of case-marking systems200 4.5 The typology of direct objects219 4.5.1 Overt coding properties: Degree of grammaticalization219 4.5.2 Morphological promotion-to-DO and the topicality hierarchy220 4.5.3 Promotion to DO and verb-coding of semantic roles225 4.6 Serial verbs, case-marking and grammatical relations227 4.7 Verb-coding of case-roles230 Chapter 5 Word order233 5.1 Preliminaries233 5.2 Scalarity, consistency and purity of types234 5.3 Rigid word-order types235 5.3.1 Rigid word-order in simple (main) clauses235 5.3.2 Rigid word-order in the noun phrase242

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5.4 Mixed word-orders246 5.4.1 Mixed clausal order246 5.4.2 Mixed word-order in the NP254 5.5 Word-order and bound morphology260 5.5.1 Reorientation260 5.5.2 Case-marking morphology on nouns or NPs260 5.5.3 Tense-aspect-modal morphology263 5.5.4 Negation morphemes267 5.6 Flexible word-order270 5.6.1 Reorientation270 5.6.2 Types of flexible-order languages271 5.6.3 The pragmatics of word-order flexibility277 5.7 So-called non-configurationality279 Chapter 6 Tense, aspect and modality I: Functional organization285 6.1 Introduction285 6.2 Tense285 6.3 Aspect287 6.3.1 Perfectivity: boundedness and duration287 6.3.2 Perfective vs. imperfective288 6.3.3 The perfect293 6.3.4 The immediate aspect: Remote vs. vivid297 6.4 Modality and mood300 6.4.1 Preamble: Propositional modalities300 6.4.2 Epistemic modalities301 6.4.3 The distribution of modality in grammar302 6.4.4 Irrealis and the subjunctive mood8312 6.4.5 Evidentiality and epistemic space326 6.5 Communicative and cognitive aspects of tense, aspectand modality329 6.5.1 Markedness329 6.5.2 Frequency text-distribution330 6.5.3 Cognitive considerations332 6.5.4 The discourse correlates of aspect: Perfective/imperfective vs. simultaneous/sequential333 Chapter 7 Tense, aspect and modality II: Typological organization337 7.1 Reorientation337 7.2 The Creole prototype338 7.3 T-A-M auxiliaries and their grammaticalization340 7.4 The expansion of tense341

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The scope-of-assertion aspect343 Perfective/imperfective-based systems345 A four-way dichotomy348 The conflation of perfect, durative and immediate352 The grammaticalization of modality355 7.9.1 Marking presupposed vs. asserted information355 7.9.2 Split vs. uniform marking of irrealis358 7.9.3 Unified vs. split subjunctive360 7.9.4 The use of perfective markers in subjunctive forms362 7.10 The grammaticalization of evidentiality366 7.11 Primary vs. secondary grammaticalization of T-A-M366 7.5 7.6 7.7 7.8 7.9

Chapter 8 Negation369 8.1 The multiple facets of negation369 8.1.1 Negation and propositional logic369 8.1.2 Negation and subjective certainty370 8.1.3 The communicative pragmatics of negation370 8.1.4 Negation as a speech-act372 8.2 The cognitive status of negation372 8.2.1 Change vs. stasis372 8.2.2 The ontology of negative events373 8.2.3 The ontology of negative states375 8.3 Negation and social interaction376 8.4 The scope of negation378 8.4.1 Presupposition, assertion and negation378 8.4.2 Negation and contrastive focus380 8.4.3 Negation and optional constituents381 8.5 The morpho-syntactic typology of VP negation382 8.5.1 Grammaticalization of negation markers382 8.5.2 De-verbal negation markers382 8.5.3 De-nominal negation markers383 8.5.4 Negation and word-order385 8.6 Further topics in the syntax of negation386 8.6.1 The coding of negative scope386 8.6.2 Diverse negation markers across grammatical contexts388 8.6.3 Emphatic or NP negation392 8.6.4 Negation in main vs. complement clauses393 8.6.5 Depth of embedding: Syntactic, morphological, and inherent (‘lexical’) negation395 8.6.6 Negative polarity and levels of negation396

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Chapter 9399 Referential coherence I: Pronouns and grammatical agreement399 9.1 Introduction399 9.2 The semantic organization of pronominal paradigms400 9.2.1 Pronominal classificatory features400 9.2.2 Initial selected examples401 9.3 Pronoun and grammatical agreement407 9.3.1 Optional clitic anaphoric pronouns (Ute)407 9.3.2 Pronominal agreement on the verb408 9.4 The implicational hierarchies of pronominal agreement416 9.5 Foundations of the grammar anaphoric reference417 9.5.1 Preamble417 9.5.2 Anaphoric zero vs. unstressed anaphoric pronouns417 9.5.3 Anaphoric vs. stressed independent pronouns418 9.5.4 Pronouns and zero anaphors vs. definite full-NPs419 9.6 Explaining the rise of pronominal agreement420 9.7 Head-modifier agreement in the noun phrase426 9.8 Multiple functions of grammatical agreement430 9.8.1 Verb-type and transitivity (Melanesian Pidgin)430 9.8.2 Marking direct vs. indirect objects (KinyaRwanda, Lunda)431 9.8.3 Marking topical objects (Amharic, Machiguenga)432 9.8.4 Marking definite objects (Swahili)433 9.8.5 Marking main vs. subordinate clauses (Bemba)433 9.8.6 Marking existential-presentative clauses (KinyaRwanda)433 9.8.7 Binding NP constituents together434 9.9 Indefinite and non-referring pronouns434 Chapter 10 Referential coherence II: Reference and definiteness437 10.1 Introduction437 10.2 Reference437 10.2.1 The Real World vs. the Universe of Discourse437 10.2.2 Referential intent439 10.2.3 The universal quantifier and non-reference439 10.3 The semantics of indefinite reference4440 10.3.1 Referential opacity441 10.3.2 Reference and propositional modalities441 10.3.3 Gradations of referentiality449 10.4 Grammatical marking of indefinite reference450 10.4.1 Preamble450 10.4.2 The numeral ‘one’ as reference marker450 10.4.3 The demonstrative ‘this’ as reference marker452 10.4.4 Noun classifiers and reference markers453 10.4.5 Grammatical devices that mark non-reference454

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10.5 The pragmatics of indefinite reference: Denotation vs. topicality455 10.6 Definiteness459 10.6.1 Definiteness and anaphoric reference459 10.6.2 Grounding referents to the shared current speech situation (working memory, current attention focus)460 10.6.3 Grounding to shared generic-lexical knowledge (permanent semantic memory)460 10.6.4 Anaphoric grounding to the shared current text (long-term episodic memory)462 10.6.5 Proper names and global access464 10.6.6 Generic subjects465 10.6.7 Gradation of definite description467 10.7 Grammatical marking of definite NPs468 10.7.1 Distal demonstratives468 10.7.2 Noun classifiers469 10.7.3 Definite-accusative markers470 10.7.4 Direct object and dative shifting471 10.7.5 Topicalization and definiteness472 10.7.6 Pronominal object agreement473 10.7.7 Definiteness, reference and case-roles473 10.8 The grammar of referential coherence as mental processing instructions474 Bibliography479 Index493

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Preface

I have been painfully aware of the need to revise, at some points rather drastically, the 1984/1990 edition of this work. When the first volume was written in the early 1980s, I thought it was possible to treat grammar responsibly, in terms of both its adaptive motivation and typological diversity, without an explicit account of the more formal aspects of syntactic structure. These aspects — constituency, hierarchy, grammatical relations, clause-union, finiteness and syntactic control — were matters I took for granted but chose to defer. In retrospect, it was a bad mistake. My sins of omission were perhaps understandable as an over-reaction to the formalism of my early training. But the damage was real enough. What I took for granted but for the moment chose to ignore, others cheerfully discarded. But ‘iconicity’ and ‘motivation’, core mantras of functionalism, fairly beg the question ‘motivation of what?’ Just as ‘grammaticalization’ and ‘emergence’, the eminences grises behind typology’s throne, cry out for asking ‘but emergence of what?’. To paraphrase Immanuel Kant, while structures without functions are plainly senseless, functions without structures are downright lame. The hallmark of biological design is that organisms perform their adaptive functions with structured organs. While the chasm between the formal Generative approach to grammar and the adaptive perspective I pursue here seems at times unbridgeable, it can be narrowed down to a relatively small number of issues that are, in principle, empirical. Abstractness: Does phrase structure pertain only to concrete entities (words, phrases, clauses), or also to semantic, pragmatic and sundry formal ghosts devoid of surface manifestation? Morphology: Should constituency and hierarchy apply equally to grammatical inflections as to lexical words, or does a profound structural re-organization occur during grammaticalization? Lingua mentalis: Is the mental representation of yet-to-be communicated thought syntactic, or is grammar a coding function that maps cognitive input onto syntactic output? Grammatical relations: Are subject and object universal primes, or are they derived from constituency and hierarchy? Idealization: Are rules of grammar, or the universals that license them, manifestations of some abstract Platonic competence, or are they performance constraints on the language processor?

xvi Preface

Generativity: Are rules of grammar 100% rigid, or can they still function as neuro-cognitive processing instructions with a certain measure of leakage? Emergence: Are universals of syntax synchronic, or do they constrain first and foremost the possible pathways of evolution, acquisition and grammaticalization? Both the extravagantly abstract structures proposed by extreme formalists and the obsessively concrete structures embraced by extreme functionalists are due, in large measure, to pre-empirical philosophical predilections. For over the discordant din loom the twin towers of reductionism — Plato with his predilection for idealization and abstraction; the Positivists with their reflexive abhorrence of all invisible mental entities. Over the din also looms, still, larger than ever, the paradoxical figure of Noam Chomsky; who in 1965 licensed semantically-motivated deep structure but in 1968 and 1970 reined us all in and reaffirmed the Saussurean dogma of autonomous syntax; who between 1957 and 1965 celebrated the reality of concrete syntactic structures, but in 1992 decreed them figments of the methodologist’s imagination. It is convenient to forget that the 1965-vintage Aspects model did proclaim, explicitly, the isomorphism between syntactic deep structure and propositional-semantic function, a dispensation that was tweaked to its logical conclusion two years later by Ross and Lakoff. It is just as easy to forget that even the most extravagant mad-hatter abstractness of Minimalism is still inspired by a germ of perfectly good intentions — the search for universals that are not about uttered concrete structures, but about the neuro-cognitive organization that accounts for such structures. That the carcasses of perfectly good intentions still litter linguistics’ road to, well, whatever, is a sad legacy of Platonism’s methodological indifference; in this case, the disdain for the tiresome process of discovery, a distant echo of Socrates’ frustration with expert knowledge. From whence flows the reification of competence and the mirage of generativity. The Devil is, alas, still, in the fine detail. The research program outlined here pays heed to Chomsky’s exhortation to seek universal principles, while affirming the mental reality of syntactic structures. For while not the real end of the theoretical enterprise, concrete structures are real enough. As theoretical entities, perceived and produced by the language processor. As methodological entities, grist to the mill of discovery and theory building. These two volumes are introductory in two distinct senses. First, they start from zero and assume no prior knowledge of syntax, however briskly they may then proceed. Second, they remain primarily a survey of the phenomenology of grammar. In the process, they introduce the reader first to concrete morpho-syntactic structures and their semantic and pragmatic correlates. They then map out the likely bounds of cross-language typological variability. Out of this primal phenomenology emerge, gradually, some of the universal principles that govern both the functional and structural organization of grammar. Complex as this enterprise may seem, it is but a preliminary to the real task, that of elaborating the universal principles that govern the emergence of grammar as a language processor — in evolution, in development, in diachrony. Scientific discovery is gradual, cumulative, hierarchic, but seldom orderly. One proceeds from baffling visibles to first-order invisibles; one retraces and retracts, groping

Preface xvii

for tentative second-order and elusive third-order generalizations. The ultimate complexity of the emerging theory is only constrained by the complexity of the phenomenon and the availability of ways and means. To quote Karl Popper, the game of science is in principle without end. In the course of such a protracted endeavor, the periodic trumpeting of brand-new — or brand-named — theories that purport to solve everything, deus ex machina, is a puzzling if altogether human irritant. Linguistics may be overdue for a stiff dose of Aristotelian patience. I would like to dedicate these volumes to an old friend whose work at times seems just as paradoxical as my own; who shares both my passion for the incredible diversity of languages and my faith in the ultimate commonality of language; Ken Hale. Abrazos, Jefe.



Chapter 1

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

1.1

Perspective

1.1.1

Antecedence History is always told in retrospect, from some perspective. Unfortunately, in tracing one’s intellectual lineage as far back as one can see, one often succeeds most admirably. But just how far back can one see — or choose to look? This is where perspective rears its mischievous head. In trying to trace the descent of the functional approach to language, I have elected to pursue a somewhat more modest goal, tracing back the lines of inquiry that have informed my own work. From this admittedly myopic perch, the antecedence of functionalism in linguistics should not be sought primarily in the work of linguists, but rather in the work of anthropologists, psychologists, and biologists. And long before them, in the work of philosophers. Still, since I feel honor-bound to pay homage to our immediate intellectual progenitors, the following come readily to mind, beginning with Edward Sapir: “…Language is a purely human and non-instinctive method of communicating ideas, emotions and desires by means of a system of voluntarily produced symbols…” (Sapir, Language, 1921, p. 8) “…Hence we have no recourse but to accept language as a fully formed functional system within man’s psychic or “spiritual” constitution. We cannot define it as an entity in psycho-physical terms alone, however much the psycho-physical basis is essential to its functioning…” (ibid., pp. 10–11)

Though Otto Jespersen would have done just as well: “…The essence of language is human activity — activity on the part of one individual to make himself understood by another, activity on the part of that other to understand what was in the mind of the first…” (Jespersen, The Philosophy of Grammar, 1934, p. 17)

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As would George Zipf: “…language is primarily a representation of experience. It may represent experience as a report of direct perceptual experience, such as in an account of a football game or in a description of some scene or event. Or it may represent tendencies to act and may be viewed as representative of potential activity, such as in an oration to persuade others to modify their behavior in accord with the wishes of the speaker… a function of the linguistic representation is to preserve or restore equilibrium. This equilibrium may be of two types: (a) inter-personal and (b) intra-personal…” (Zipf, The Psycho-Biology of Language, 1935, pp. 294–295)

Or Michael Halliday: “…A functional approach to language means, first of all, investigating how language is used: trying to find out what are the purposes that language serves for us, and how we are able to achieve these purposes through speaking and listening, reading and writing. But it also means more than this. It means seeking to explain the nature of language in functional terms: seeing whether language itself has been shaped by use, and if so, in what ways — how the form of language has been determined by the function it has evolved to serve…” (Halliday, Explorations in the Functions of Language, 1973, p. 7)

Or Simon Dik: “…a language is conceived of in the first place as an instrument of social interaction between human beings, used with the primary aim of establishing communicative relations between speakers and addressees…” (Dik, Functional Grammar, 1978, p. 1)

Or Dwight Bolinger: “…The natural condition of language is to preserve one form for one meaning and one meaning for one form…” (Bolinger, The Form of Language, 1977, p. x)

Ultimately, however, the best point of departure for functionalism is to be found in biology, the mother-discipline that has been profoundly functionalist for over two thousand years. Functionalism in biology traces back to Aristotle, who more or less singlehandedly dislodged the two structuralist schools that had dominated Greek biological thought up to his time. Both schools sought to understand live organisms componentially, the way they did inorganic matter. Thus Empedocles proposed to explain organisms by their component elements. While Democritus opted for understanding organisms through their component parts, or structure. In his De Partibus Animalium, Aristotle first argues against Empedocles’ elemental approach, pointing out the relevance of histological and anatomical structure: “…But if men and animals are natural phenomena, then natural philosophers must take into consideration not merely the ultimate substances of which they are made, but also flesh, bone, blood and all the other homogeneous parts; not only these but also the heterogenous parts, such as face, hand, foot…” (De Partibus Animalium, McKeon ed. 1941, p. 647)

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

Aristotle next notes the inadequacy of Democritan structuralism: “…Does, then, configuration and color constitute the essence of the various animals and their several parts?… No hand of bronze or wood or constituted in any but the appropriate way can possibly be a hand in more than a name. For like a physician in a painting, or like a flute in a sculpture, it will be unable to do the office [= function] which that name implies…” (ibid., p. 647; italics & bracketed translations added)

Next, he offers his functionalist touchstone — the teleological interpretation of living things, using the analogy of usable artifacts: “…What, however, I would ask, are the forces by which the hand or the body was fashioned into its shape? The woodcarver will perhaps say, by the axe and auger; the physiologist, by air and earth. Of these two answers, the artificer’s is the better, but it is nevertheless insufficient. For it is not enough for him to say that by the stroke of his tool this part was formed into a concavity, that into a flat surface; but he must state the reasons why he struck his blow in such a way as to affect this, and what his final object was…” (ibid., pp. 647–648; italics added)

Finally, Aristotle outlines the governing principle of functionalism — the correlation, or isomorphism, between form and function: “…if a piece of wood is to be split with an axe, the axe must of necessity be hard; and, if hard, it must of necessity be made of bronze or iron. Now exactly in the same way the body, which like the axe is an instrument — for both the body as a whole and its several parts individually have definite operations for which they are made; just in the same way, I say, the body if it is to do its work [= function], must of necessity be of such and such character…” (ibid., p. 650; italics and bracketed translation added)

Ever since Aristotle, structuralism — the idea that structure is autonomous and arbitrary and thus requires no explanation or, worse, somehow explains itself — has been a dead issue in biology, a discipline where common-sense functionalism is taken for granted like mother’s milk. As one contemporary introductory textbook puts it: “…anatomy is the science that deals with the structure of the body… physiology is defined as the science of function. Anatomy and physiology have more meaning when studied together…” (Crouch, Functional Human Anatomy, 1978, pp. 9–10)

Or, from a run-of-the-mill introduction to animal physiology: “…The movement of an animal during locomotion depends on the structure of muscles and skeletal elements (e.g. bones). The movement produced by a contracting muscle depends on how it is attached to these elements and how they articulate with each other. In such a relatively familiar example, the relation between structure and function is obvious. The dependence of function on structure becomes more subtle, but no less real, as we direct our attention to the lower levels of organization — tissue, cell, organelle, and so on… The principle that structure is the basis of function applies to biochemical events as well. The interaction of an enzyme with its substrates, for example, depends on the configuration and electron distributions of the interacting

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molecules. Changing the shape of an enzyme molecule (i.e. denaturing it) by heating it above 40 C is generally sufficient to render it biologically nonfunctional by altering its shape…” (Eckert and Randall, Animal Physiology, 1978, pp. 2–3)

1.1.2

Structuralism Paradoxically, it was Aristotle, in his semiotics — theory of signs — who also launched the structuralist approach to language, functionalism’s antithesis. In his De Interpretatione, Aristotle presents one of the earliest discussions of the relation between reality, mind and language: “…Now spoken sounds [‘words’] are symbols of affections of the soul [‘thoughts’], and written marks are symbols of spoken sounds. And just as written marks are not the same for all men [‘are language specific’], neither are spoken sounds. But what these are in the first place signs of — affections of the soul — are the same for all [‘are universal’]; and what these affections are likenesses of — actual things — are also the same for all men…” (De Interpretatione, tr. & ed. by J. L. Ackrill, 1963; bracketed translation added)

From Aristotle’s empiricist (‘objectivist’) perspective, thoughts (‘affections of the soul’) reflect external reality (‘actual things’) faithfully, indeed iconically (‘are likenesses of’). What is more, this reflective relation is universal (‘the same for all men’). In contrast, linguistic expressions (‘words’) bear an arbitrary relation to (‘are symbols of’) thoughts. And this relation is not universal (‘not the same for all men’). It is true, of course, that Aristotle’s doctrine of the arbitrariness of the linguistic sign — thus the arbitrariness of cross-language diversity — referred only to the coding of concepts (‘words’) by sounds or letters. But latter-day structuralists unreflectively extended the arbitrariness doctrine to grammar. In the early 20th Century, structuralism re-surfaced in the nascent social sciences. To the infant disciplines of psychology, anthropology and linguistics, two towering exponents of logical positivist philosophy of science, Bertrand Russell and Rudolph Carnap (see Russell 1956; Carnap 1963) sold the deceptive analogy of physics. In tracing the roots of 20th Century structuralism to positivist philosophy, one must recognize that its ultimate descent goes all the way back to Aristotle’s objectivist epistemology. This is fairly transparent in, for example, Carnap’s later reflection upon the physicalism of the Vienna Circle: “…The thesis of physicalism, as originally accepted in the Vienna Circle, says roughly: Every concept of the language of science can be explicitly defined in terms of observables; therefore every sentence of the language of science is translatable into a sentence concerning observable properties…” (Carnap, The Philosophy of Rudolph Carnap, 1963, p. 59)

Russell’s objectivism, couched in somewhat forbidding terms, is nonetheless discernible in his discussion of the relation between particular entities and the universal concept to which they give rise:

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

“…We may then define a particular in our fourth sense as an entity that cannot be in or belong to more than one place at any particular time, and a universal as an entity that either cannot be in or belong to any place, or can be in or belong to many places at once…Owing to the admission of universals in our fourth sense, we can make an absolute division between percepts and concepts. The universal whiteness is a concept, whereas a particular white patch is a percept…. Such general qualities as whiteness never exist in time, whereas the things that do exist in time are all particular [percept]s…” (Russell, Relations of universals & particulars; reprinted in Russell 1956, p. 122)

The core notions of functionalism, purpose or function, are invisible constructs that defy translation into the physicalist ‘language of science’; as are psychological concepts such as meaning and intent, or for that matter, mind. The critical element that makes something a biological code, or in C. S. Peirce’s words, “…something by knowing of which one knows something more…”, is its association with some purpose or function. This is where the world of living organisms stands in stark contrast to the pre-biological universe of physics, where teleological notions are utterly senseless (except perhaps in reference to the Divine). Or, as the physicist I.I. Rabi has put it: “…My view of physics is that you make discoveries but, in a certain sense, you never really understand them. You learn how to manipulate them, but you never really understand them. “Understanding” would mean relating them to something else — to something more profound…” (I. I. Rabi, in an interview in The New Yorker, October 20 1975, p. 96)

In the intellectual climate fostered by Logical Positivism, the Swiss linguist F. de Saussure (1915) elaborated the three central dogmas of structuralism. First, following Aristotle, the arbitrariness of the linguistic sign. That is, the detachment of the visible behavior (or structure) from its invisible purposive correlates. The middle term of Aristotle’s tri-partite semiotic equation — mind — was thereby excised, leaving only the two observable terms — the sign and its worldly referent. Leonard Bloomfield, the father of American Structuralism, owes his approach to the meaning of linguistic signs to this intellectual tradition: “…We must study people’s habits of language — the way they talk — without bothering about mental processes that we may conceive to underlie or accompany habits. We must dodge the issue by a fundamental assumption, leaving it to a separate investigation, in which our results will figure as data along the results of other social sciences…” (Bloomfield, Review of Sapir’s Language, 1922, p. 142) “…In order to give a scientifically accurate definition of meaning for every form of the language, one should have to have a scientifically accurate knowledge of everything in the speaker’s world… In practice, we define the meaning of a linguistic form, whenever we can, in terms of some other science…” (Bloomfield, Language, 1933, pp. 139–140)

Saussure’s second dogma, that of the idealization, involves his fateful distinction between langue, the ideal system that underlies language, and parole, the observable linguistic behavior. Saussure’s langue harkens back to Plato’s eidon (‘essence’; see Bostock 1994;

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Williams 1994), and may of course be taken as a purely methodological construct: All facts in science are to some extent idealized, constrained as they are by the pragmatic demands of methodology. While such idealization was rejected by Bloomfield and his followers, it was embraced by Chomsky, in the context of a resurgent Platonic-Cartesian approach to language and mind: “…Linguistic theory is concerned primarily with an idealized speaker-listener, in a completely homogeneous speech-community, who knows its language perfectly and is unaffected by such grammatically irrelevant conditions as memory limitation, distractions, shifts of attention and interest, and errors (random or characteristic) in applying his knowledge of the language to actual performance…This seems to me to have been the position of the founders of modern general linguistics, and no cogent reason for modifying it has been offered. In the study of actual linguistic performance, we must consider the interaction of a variety of factors, of which the underlying competence of the speaker-hearer is only one. In this respect, the study of language is no different from empirical investigation of other complex phenomena…” (Chomsky, Aspects of the Theory of Syntax, 1965, pp. 3–4; italics added)

In principle, there is nothing inimical to functionalism in such a methodological idealization — except for one crucial twist: All functional-adaptive pressures that shape the synchronic — idealized — structure of language are exerted during actual performance. This is where language is acquired, and where grammar emerges and changes. This is where form adjusts itself — creatively and on the spur of the moment’s opportunistic construal of context — to novel functions and extended meanings. This is also where slop, variation and indeterminacy are necessary ingredients of the actual mechanism that shapes and reshapes competence. To dismiss the relevance of the rich data-base of performance to the study of competence is, in point of fact, a travesty of what is done in other behavioral sciences, where performance is not abstracted from but rather controlled for, and its effects are systematically assessed, and ultimately explained. Saussure’s third dogma, the strict segregation of the diachronic from the synchronic study of language, is a transparent extension of the dogma of idealization. The problems of change and graduality, and the attendant variability of observed behavior, have baffled analytic philosophers ever since Plato and Aristotle, and rightly so, subverting the philosopher’s attempt to discover the pristine system hiding behind messy reality. The dogma of segregation was another valiant attempt to contain the messy consequences of ongoing change. Once again, there is nothing inherently wrong in choosing — as a methodological gambit — to ignore ongoing change at some phase of the analysis. Indeed, language users are routinely obliged to do just that, when making categorial form-function choices under the relentless time pressure of actual communication. In the process, they disregard much of the indeterminacy associated with ongoing change. While idealization is indeed a legitimate methodological manoeuver, it becomes problematic when accorded an undue theoretical status. That is, when it leads to ignoring the relevance of the data-base of change and variation to our understanding of synchronic

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

structure. This is akin to suggesting, by analogy, that the evolutionary mechanism that gave rise to a particular life form is irrelevant to our understanding of the structure of that life form. 1.1.3

Direct descent The functional approach to grammar pursued here owes its direct descent, somewhat paradoxically, to Chomsky’s fatal indecision, in his Aspects of the Theory of Syntax (1965), about the relationship between syntax and meaning. While insisting on the arbitrariness and autonomy of grammar, Chomsky nonetheless conceded that syntactic deep structure (in our terms here, the structure of simple clauses) was isomorphic to propositional meaning (his logical structure). This crypto-functionalist lapse, soon discarded by Chomsky himself, was embraced by Ross and Lakoff (1967) and others who, under the banner of Generative Semantics, spurned the dogma of Autonomous Syntax. Much of subsequent early functionalism remained focused on the relation between grammar and propositional semantics (Chafe 1970; Lakoff 1970; Foley & van Valin 1984; Langacker 1987, 1990; inter alia). But the realization that the bulk of the machinery of grammar was deployed in the service of discourse pragmatics did not lag far behind (Givón 1979a,b; Chafe ed. 1980, 1994; Hopper ed. 1982; Tomlin ed. 1987; inter alia).

1.2

The role of grammar in human information processing It will be taken for granted here that the two primary functions of human language are the representation and communication of knowledge (experience). Well-coded human communication may be thus divided, broadly, into two sub-systems: cognitive representation system; •
the
the • communicative coding system. The human cognitive representation system comprises of three concentrically-linked levels: conceptual lexicon; •
the
propositional information; •
multi-propositional discourse. • The communicative coding system comprises of two distinct coding instruments: peripheral sensory-motor codes; •
the
the • grammatical code.

1.2.1

The cognitive representation system 1.2.1.1
The conceptual lexicon The human conceptual lexicon is a repository of relatively time-stable, relatively sociallyshared, relatively well-coded concepts which, taken together, constitute a cognitive map of our experiential universe:

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external-physical universe; •
the social-cultural universe; •
the
the • internal-mental universe. By time-stable one means knowledge that is not in rapid flux. That is, the meaning of ‘horse’ today will probably remain the same tomorrow. Though gradual change of meaning is not precluded. By socially-shared one means that when launching into communication, speakers take it for granted that words have, roughly, the same meanings for all members of their own speech community. Though membership is conceded to be a matter of degree. By well-coded one means that each chunk of lexically-stored knowledge is more-or-less uniquely, or at least strongly, associated with its own perceptual code-label. Though again, well-codedness may be a matter of degree. The conceptual lexicon is most likely organized as a network of nodes and connections. A word-node automatically activates a prototypical cluster of other, closely-related, word-nodes (Swinney 1979; Neeley 1990). Within the lexical-semantic network, nodes stand for individual concepts or words, each with its own distinct meaning and code-label. Lexical concepts are conventionalized types of experience rather than individual tokens of experience. That is, they are generic. Such conventionalization presumably involves the development of a prototypical activation pattern of a cluster of connected nodes. A lexical concept may represent a relatively time-stable entity — physical object, landmark, location, plant, animal, person, cultural institution or abstract concept — thus typically a noun. It may represent a more temporary action, event, process or relation, thus typically a verb. It may represent a time-stable quality or temporary state, thus typically an adjective. Cognitive psychologists have long recognized the conceptual lexicon under the label of permanent semantic memory (Atkinson and Shiffrin 1968). 1.2.1.2
Propositional information One can combine concepts (‘words’) into propositional information (‘clauses’) about states or events in which entities partake. Such states or events may pertain either to the external world, the mental-internal world, the culturally-mediated world, or to various combinations thereof. Cognitive psychologists have long recognized our capacity to process and store propositional information as episodic-declarative memory (Atkinson and Shiffrin 1968; Squire 1987). 1.2.1.3
Multi-propositional discourse Individual state or event clauses may be combined into coherent discourse. Human discourse is predominantly multi-propositional. That is, its coherence transcends the bounds of its component clauses. Multi-propositional discourse is also processed and stored in episodic-declarative memory (Loftus 1980; Gernsbacher 1990; Ericsson and Kintsch 1995).

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

1.2.1.4
The interaction between words, propositions and discourse As an illustration of the combinatorial relation of lexical concepts, propositional information and discourse coherence, consider the simple-minded examples in (1), (2) and (3) below: (1) Concepts = words a. drive b. c. constant d. e. maid f. g. butler h. i. hide j.

insane abuse kill knife fridge

(2) Propositions = clauses a. The maid was driven insane. b. The butler constantly abused the maid. c. The maid killed the butler with a knife. d. The maid hid the knife in the fridge last night. (3) Multi-propositional discourse Having been driven insane by constant abuse, the maid killed the butler with the knife that she had hidden in the fridge the night before. Taken by themselves, outside any propositional context, the words in (1a–j) convey only conceptual meaning. That is, you may only ask about them questions such as: (4) a. b. c. d.

What does drive mean? Does drive mean the same as abuse? If someone is a maid, can she also be a butler, or a woman? Is kill related in meaning to die, slaughter or murder, and if so how?

Combined into clauses, as in (2a–d), the very same words now partake in the coding of propositional information. In addition to questions of conceptual meaning as in (4), the individual clauses in (2) may now prompt many questions of information, such as: (5) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

Was the maid driven insane? Who abused the maid? Who killed the butler? Who did the maid kill? What did the maid kill the butler with? Did the maid kill the butler? Where did the maid hide the knife? When did the maid hide the knife in the fridge?

Finally, the multi-propositional text in (3), in which the very same propositions of (2) are now combined, has discourse coherence. In addition to questions of conceptual meaning

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such as (4) and propositional information such as (5), one may now ask questions that pertain to that coherence, such as: (6) a. b. c. d. e.

Why did she kill him? How come she had a knife? Why had the maid hidden the knife in the fridge? Could she perhaps have talked to him first before taking such a drastic step? Was her action reasonable? Was it defensible in a court of law?

The questions in (6) may appear deceptively akin to those in (5). However, each question in (5) can be answered on the basis of knowing only one atomic proposition in (2). In contrast, none of the questions in (6) can be answered on the basis of such atomic propositional knowledge. Rather, the knowledge of several propositions in the connected discourse (3), or even of the entire coherent text, is required in order to answer such questions. The partial dissociation between conceptual meaning and propositional information is easy to demonstrate by constructing grammatically well-formed sentences that make no sense; that is, sentences whose words are perfectly meaningful, each taken by itself, but still do not combine into a cogent proposition; as in Chomsky’s ubiquitous example (7): (7) Colorless green ideas sleep furiously The meaning incongruities that make proposition (7) bizarre — ‘colorless green’, ‘green ideas’, ‘ideas sleep’, ‘sleep furiously’ — are all due to the semantic specificity of individual words. The relation between lexical meaning and propositional information is thus one of inclusion, or a one-way conditional. That is: One can understand the meaning of words independent of the proposition in which they are embedded; but one cannot understand a proposition without understanding the meaning of the words that make it up. The partial dissociation between propositional information and discourse coherence can be just as easily demonstrated, by stringing together perfectly informative but incoherently combined propositions. Thus for example, re-scrambling the coherent discourse in (3) yields the incoherent: (8) a. b. c. d.

Having killed the butler with the knife by constant abuse, the maid had been driven insane and had hidden it in the fridge the night before.

No propositional-semantic anomaly is discernible in any of the individual clauses (8a–d). The bizarreness of (8) as a connected discourse is due to two factors: lack of cross-propositional coherence; •
the •
the use of grammatical forms designed to code another coherent order, that of (3). One could indeed conceive of ways by which the sequence of clauses in (8) can be made coherent. But this would require adjusting their grammatical structure to the new order:

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

(9) a. b. c. d.

Having failed to kill the butler despite the constant abuse, the maid was finally driven insane [upon realizing that] she had hidden the knife in the fridge the night before.

The relation between propositional information and discourse coherence is thus also an inclusion relation, or a one-way conditional. That is: One can understand the meaning of clauses independent of the discourse in which they are embedded; but one cannot understand the discourse without understanding the propositions that make it up. 1.2.2

Peripheral sensory-motor codes The peripheral sensory-motor codes of human language are the domain of phonetics, phonology and neurology, and will not be dealt in much detail here. They presumable involve both coding (speech production) and decoding (speech perception) operations, and are adjusted to pertinent perceptual and motor modalities.

1.2.3

The grammatical code 1.2.3.1
What grammar is The grammatical code is probably the latest evolutionary addition to the arsenal of human communication (Givón 1979a, 1995; Lieberman 1984; Bickerton 1981, 1990). While the evolutionary argument remains conjectural, it is supported by a coherent body of suggestive evidence. Ontogenetically, both through hearing and signing, children acquire the lexicon and then pre-grammatical — pidgin — communication much earlier than grammar (see further below). Natural second language acquisition follows the very same course (Bickerton and Odo 1976; Bickerton 1981, 1990; Givón 1990a). And in the natural communication of pre-human species, the existence of lexical-semantic concepts of both entities (nouns) and events (verbs) must be taken for granted if one is to make sense of behavior, communicative as well as secular (Perrett et al. 1989). Such lexical concepts are already well-coded in the natural communication of some non-human species (Cheney and Seyfarth 1990; Marler et al. 1991; inter alia). Further, birds, dogs, horses, primates and other species are easily taught auditory or visual lexical code-labels for nouns, verbs and adjectives (Premak 1971; Gardner and Gardner 1971; Fouts 1973; Terrace 1985; Pepperberg 1991; Savage-Rumbaugh, Shanker & Taylor 1998; inter alia). And the seeming ease with which such lexical learning takes place strongly suggests that the underlying cognitive and neurological structures are already in place. In non-human primates, the supporting neurology for both semantic and episodic memory is essentially the same one as in humans (Squire 1987; Petri and Mishkin 1994). However, observing the natural use of anything remotely resembling human grammar —

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morphology and syntax — in communicating animals, or teaching it to them, has been almost a uniform failure (Premak 1971; Terrace 1985). Grammar is a much more abstract and complex code than the sensory-motor codes of the lexicon. At its most concrete, the primary grammatical signal involves four major coding devices: (10) Coding devices of the primary grammatical signal a. Morphology b. Intonation:
clause-level melodic contours
word-level stress or tone c. Rhythmics:
pace or length
pauses d. Sequential order of words or morphemes

• • • •

Some coding devices — morphology (10a), intonation and stress (10b) — are more concrete. They involve the very same physical signals (sounds, gestures, letters) that code lexical meaning. But these concrete devices are integrated into a complex whole with the more abstract elements of the code — rhythmics (10c) and sequential order (10d). These more abstract elements of the grammatical code are probably second-order constructs, inferred from more concrete signals. From the primary grammatical signals in (10), yet more abstract levels of grammatical organization must be inferred: (11) More abstract levels of grammatical organization a. Hierarchic constituency organization
morphemes into words
words into phrases
phrases into clauses b. The grammatical category-labels
noun, verb, adjective
noun phrase, verb phrase c. Scope and relevance relations
operator–operand relations
noun–modifier relations
subject and object relations d. Government and control relations
agreement
coreference
modality
finiteness

• • • • • • • • • • • •

The levels of clausal organization listed in (11) are the more abstract components of grammar. How they are extracted from the more concrete signals of grammar (10) is a central question in the study of language processing.

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

1.2.3.2
What grammar does Grammar codes, simultaneously, both propositional semantics and discourse coherence (pragmatics). This is indeed one of the most baffling facts about grammar-as-code: Although it is located wholly in the clause, its functional scope is not primarily about the propositional information couched in the clause in which it resides. Rather, grammar is predominantly about the coherence relations between the propositional (clause) and its wider discourse context. The traditional structuralist methodology, of examining (or experimenting on) isolated clauses, has tended to obscure this overwhelming fact about what grammar does. Some of the major grammatical sub-systems that code primarily discourse pragmatics are: (12) Major discourse-oriented grammatical sub-systems a. grammatical roles (subject, direct object) b. definiteness and reference c. anaphora, pronouns and agreement d. tense, aspect, modality and negation e. de-transitive voice f. topicalization g. focus and contrast h. relativization i. speech acts j. clausal conjunction and subordination The distinctness of propositional semantics from discourse pragmatics does not mean lack of overlap or interaction between the two. Thus, for example, morphological case-marking codes both the discourse-pragmatic functions of subject (nominative) and direct object (accusative), and the propositional-semantic functions of agent, patient, dative, locative, instrumental or associative cases (see Chapters 3, 4). In the same vein, tense, aspect, modality and negation display both propositional semantic and discourse pragmatic functions (see Chapters 6, 7, 8). And the grammar of de-transitive clauses ranges over both propositional semantic and discourse-pragmatic functions (see Chapter 12).

1.3

Grammatical vs. pre-grammatical communication As noted earlier above, humans can, under a variety of developmental or neurological conditions, communicate in pre-grammatical pidgin, using a well-coded lexicon together with some rudimentary combinatorial rules. Such pidgin communication is found in three distinct contexts: child language; •
early
adult second-language pidgin; •
agrammatic (Broca’s) aphasia. •

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As an example of coherent pre-grammatical child narrative, consider the following, from a 2 year old boy (Givón 1990): (13) Context: Anticipating a trip In atnga. Sit dawn. tan ki. in airplane sit down turn key ‘(We’ll go) in the airplane, sit down, turn the key, Vruum vruum! Tan tu da rayt. Atnga! vr. vr. turn to the right airplane And vroom vroom! (We’ll) turn to the right. Airplane (flies)!’ As an example of coherent adult second-language pidgin, consider the personal narrative of an 80 year old Japanese-English pidgin speaker in Hawaii (Bickerton and Odo 1976): (14) Context: Coming to Hawaii “…oh me?…oh me over there… nineteen-twenty over there say come… store me stop begin open… me sixty year… little more sixty year… now me ninety… nah ehm… little more… this man ninety-two… yeah, this month over… me Hawaii come-desu… nineteen seven come… me number first here… me-wa tell… you sabe gurumeru?… you no sabe gurumeru?… yeah this place come… this place been two-four-five year… stop, ey… then me go home… Japan… by-n-by… little boy… come… by-n-by he been come here… ey… by-n-by come… by-n-by me before Hui-Hui stop… Hui-Hui this… eh… he… this a… Manuel… you sabe-ka…” As an example of a coherent narrative produced by an agrammatic aphasia patient, consider (Menn 1990, p. 165): (15) Context: Experiencing a stroke “…I had stroke… blood pressure… low pressure… period… Ah… pass out… Uh… Rosa and I, and… friends… of mine… uh… uh… shore… uh drink, talk, pass out…” “…Hahnemann Hospital… uh, uh I… uh uh wife, Rosa… uh… take… uh… love… ladies… uh Ocean uh Hospital and transfer Hahnemann Hospital ambulance… uh…

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

half’n hour… uh… uh it’s… uh… motion, motion… uh… bad… patient… I uh… flat on the back… um… it’s… uh… shaved, shaved… nurse, shaved me… uh… shaved me, nurse… [sigh]… wheel chair… uh… Hahnemann Hospital… a week, a week… uh… then uh… strength… uh… mood… uh… up… uh… legs and arms, left side uh… weak… and… Moss Hospital… two week… no, two months…” The difference — structural, functional and cognitive — between pre-grammatical and grammaticalized communication are summarized below: (16) Pre-grammatical vs. grammatical discourse processing (after Givón 1979b: Ch. 5; 1989: Ch. 7; 1995: Ch. 9) Properties

Grammatical mode

Pre-grammatical mode

structural a.
Grammatical morphology b.
Syntactic constructions c.
Use of Word-order d.
Pauses

abundant complex/embedded grammatical (subj/obj) fluent

absent simple/conjoined pragmatic (topic/comment) halting

functional e.
Processing speed f.
Mental effort g.
Error rate h.
Context dependence

fast effortless lower lower

slow laborious higher higher

cognitive i.
Processing mode j.
Acquisition k.
Evolution

automated late late

attended early early

Slow and analytic, pre-grammatical communication is heavily vocabulary-dependent and knowledge-driven (Kintsch 1992). This tallies with the fact that vocabulary emerges before grammar in both first and second language acquisition. Pre-grammatical children, adult pidgin speakers and agrammatical aphasics all comprehend and produce coherent multipropositional discourse, albeit at slower speeds and higher error rates than those characteristic of grammaticalized communication. The identification of grammar as an automated, streamlined, conventionalized, speeded-up language processing system has long been noted (Givón 1979a: Ch. 5; 1989: Ch. 7; 1995: Ch. 8,9; Blumstein and Milberg 1983; Lieberman 1984; Schnitzer 1989; inter alia).

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1.4

The limits of conscious reflection The most common descriptive method used in grammatical analysis has been that of studying isolated clauses (sentences) outside their discourse context. Like all methods, this one has both drawbacks and strengths. On the drawback side first, if grammar is indeed used primarily to code inter-clausal coherence, this method — studying grammar outside its communicative context — skirts the very data that may help establish the pragmatic function of morphemes and constructions. Indeed, one may argue that this method has made the structuralist thesis of autonomous syntax possible. While noting the drawbacks of the clause-in-isolation method, one should not ignore its usefulness. To begin with, one cannot begin analyzing natural discourse without having first gained some preliminary knowledge of word structure (morphology) and clause structure. One would simply not know where to start and how to segment the stream of natural speech. Further, the clause-in-isolation field method, in its proper domain, has always rested on unimpeachable empirical foundations. To determine the semantic correlates of a form, you hold all variables constant — but one. You then manipulate that one variable, and record the semantic effect of the manipulation. Or, alternatively, you manipulate one semantic variable while holding all others constant, and then record the structural effect of the manipulation. As a simple illustration of this method, consider the following elicitation of Swahili verbal paradigms: (17) a. Manipulated variable = subject pronoun: ni-limuona = ‘I saw him/her’ ku-limuona = ‘You saw him/her’ a-limuona = ‘S/he saw him/her’ b. Manipulated variable = tense-aspect: ni-li-muona = ‘I saw him/her’ ni-na-muona = ‘I see him/her’ ni-ta-muona = ‘I will see him/her’ ni-me-muona = ‘I have seen him/her’ c. Manipulated variable = object pronoun: a-li-ni-ona = ‘S/he saw me’ a-li-ku-ona = ‘S/he saw you’ a-li-mu-ona = ‘S/he saw him/her’ a-li-ki-ona = ‘S/he saw it’ d. Manipulated variable = verb stem: a-li-ki-ona = ‘S/he saw it’ a-li-ki-piga = ‘S/he hit it’ a-li-ki-amba = ‘S/he said it’

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

e. Manipulated variable = transitivity: a-li-ki-on-a ‘S/he saw it’ a-li-mu-on-ea ‘S/he saw it for him/her’ ki-li-on-ewa ‘It was seen’ ki-li-on-eka ‘It was visible’ a-li-mu-on-esha ‘S/he showed him/her’ wa-li-on-ana ‘They saw each other’ Such manipulations yield valid data on the various form-meaning associations coded in the verbal word. But the validity of our results rests upon the two related assumptions: a. b.

The meaning of the manipulated forms is accessible to conscious reflection. All speakers will respond uniformly.

Another method, that of studying grammar in its natural communicative context, is designed to take over precisely where assumption (a) is so weak that assumption (b) becomes untenable. As will be noted directly below (§1.5), one of the most striking facts noted by grammarians, be they Aristotle, Franz Bopp, Otto Jespersen, Leonard Bloomfield, Lucien Tesnière, Zelig Harris or Noam Chomsky, is that roughly-the-same propositional-semantic contents can be packaged into a wide array of different syntactic clause-types. Consider, for example, proposition (18a) below, identifying an agent (Marla), a patient (Henry) and a verb (hit). With some allowances, the same propositional contents recurs in all the variant clauses (18b–p): (18) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l. m. n. o. p.

Marla hit Henry Marla didn’t hit Henry (hey you,) Hit Henry! Who hit Henry? Did Marla hit Henry? Marla has hit Henry She hit Henry Marla hit him Henry was hit by Marla The woman who hit Henry (was Marla) The man whom Marla hit (was Henry) We told Marla to hit Henry We suspected that Marla hit Henry We suspected Marla of hit-ing Henry As for Henry, Marla hit him Having hit Henry, (Marla left)

Now, when one asks a naive speaker in what communicative context a particular clause type in (18) is used, one tends to get an interesting split: Speakers have little trouble telling us why they use variants (18b–e) rather than (18a). That is, the communicative intents

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associated with negation and non-declarative speech-acts seems to be readily available for conscious reflection. But the communicative intent of the structural variants in (18f–p) turns out to be much less accessible to conscious reflection. Speakers ‘know the rule’. That is, they seem to follow fairly uniformly the same automatic processing habits. But they cannot tell you why a particular form is used. Though in each case they can still report, rather accurately, on the propositional-semantic contents of the clause (Marla hitting Henry). This is where, in studying the communicative function of grammar, the clause-inisolation method becomes unreliable, and must be supplemented with the study of grammar in its natural communicative context.

1.5

The theme-and-variation approach to syntax The preceding section already outlined one major characteristic of our approach to syntax, one that owes a considerable debt to both Zelig Harris and Noam Chomsky. In this approach, the notion of syntactic construction (clause-type) occupies center stage in grammatical description. We owe Harris (1956) the observation that all clause-types in (18) above share, more or less, the same propositional semantic theme. Harris, as a good structuralist, couched this observation in terms of co-occurrence relations. Chomsky (1965) re-christened the propositional-semantic theme as the ‘syntactic’ deep-structure of clauses, said to support (‘be isomorphic to’) their logical structure (‘propositional information’). One had better note that our notion of syntactic construction, or clause-type, is rather rich. It does not only involve constituency and hierarchy (11a), category labels (11b), rhythmics (10c) and sequential order (10d), but also the grammatical morphology (10a) and intonation pattern (10b) associated with the construction. It also involves the more abstract behavioral constraints on scope and relevance (11c) and government and control (11d) typical of the construction. We will take it for granted here that all these elements of clausal grammar are cognitively real, although some may be perceptually more accessible, while others are higher-order constructs or inferences. Though it is perhaps worth noting that Chomsky has more recently disavowed the reality of constructions in the sense suggested above: “…[Early generative grammar proposed that] each language is a rich and intricate system of rules that are, typically, construction-particular and language-particular… The principles-and-parameters approach that has developed in recent years, and that I assume here, breaks radically with this tradition… The notion of grammatical construction is eliminated, and with it, construction-particular rules. Constructions such as verb phrase, relative clause, passive, etc., are taken to be taxonomic artifacts, collections of phenomena explained through the interaction of the principles of UG, with the values of parameters fixed…” (Chomsky, “A Minimalist Program for Linguistic Theory”, 1992, p. 3; italics added)

The various clause-types — structural variants — found in the grammar of a language, as in (18) above, are nothing but differential grammatical packaging of propositional-semantic

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

contents in different discourse-pragmatic functional domains. Constructions, or clausetypes, are thus the grammatical coding instruments that signal discourse-pragmatic function. The privileged cognitive position of one clause-type, the main, declarative, affirmative, active clause (18a), is what made it possible for Chomsky (1965) to identify this clause-type as the ‘syntactic’ deep structure of all other clause-types, a use of ‘syntax’ aptly rejected by Ross and Lakoff (1967). In our terms, this so-called neutral or basic clause (Keenan 1976) is just one clause-type, used in a particular functional domain. The basis for its privileged status in grammar and discourse will be discussed in §1.8 below. The fact that clausal grammar codes simultaneously propositional-semantic information and discourse-pragmatic function has far reaching consequences. For the coding requirements of the two are often in conflict, so that the resulting structure is an adaptive compromise between the competing functional pressures. As an illustration, consider the two clauses (19a,b) below. Both share the very same propositional-semantic information, but are used in different discourse-pragmatic contexts. Typically, (19a) may occur 5–10 clauses prior to (19b): (19) Neutral-pattern main clause a. (then) she cut the meat with a knife (and) Indirect-object relative clause b. well, the knife with which she cut the meat [Ø] (was dull) c. *well, the knife she cut the meat [Ø] (was dull) d. well, the knife she cut the meat with [Ø] (was dull) One adaptive pressure manifest in the relative clause (19b) is that of avoiding undue repetition, i.e. time saving. Given that the instrument in (19a) (‘a knife’), is co-referent with the head noun in (19b) (‘the knife’), one dispenses with it in the relative clause (19b), coding it as zero. Now, however, the zero-coded instrument in (19b) precipitates a problem in processing the propositional-semantic information of that clause. For the indirect object in (19a) is now missing in (19b), where its co-referent (‘the knife’) is coded as the subject of another clause (‘the knife was dull’). In (19b), a compensatory strategy is now used, whereby the preposition ‘with’ and the object relative pronoun ‘which’ are inserted between the head noun and the relative clause, to help us reconstruct the semantic role (instrument) of the missing indirect object. The infelicity of (19c) suggests that such compensatory strategy is necessary. And the acceptability of the more colloquial (19d) suggests that the preposition by itself will do the job, provided it is placed at the locus where the missing indirect object appears in the neutral main clause (19a). And the overall syntax of (19b,d) has some features prompted by the need to code the clauses’ propositional-semantics (‘with’), some prompted by the need to code its discourse-pragmatic context (zero), and some prompted by a combination of both.1

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Syntax

1.6

The typological approach to grammar: Functional domains, cross-language diversity and universals By taking for granted the arbitrariness of grammar, structuralists ever since Aristotle dispensed with the need to look for grammatical universals. The apparent great diversity of the structural means by which human languages can execute the same — or broadly similar — communicative functions has been taken as prima facie evidence against universals. This is most succinctly expressed by Leonard Bloomfield: “…North of Mexico alone there are dozens of totally unrelated groups of languages, presenting the most varied types of structure. In the stress of recording utterly strange forms of speech, one soon learns that philosophical presuppositions were only a hindrance…The only useful generalizations about language are inductive generalizations…” [Bloomfield, Language, 1933, pp. 19–20]

In this section I will note the strong association — indeed the necessary convergence — between the functional, typological, and diachronic aspects to grammar. 1.6.1

The functional basis of grammatical typology The typological approach to cross-language grammatical diversity has been historically associated with a functionalist perspective on grammar, from von Humboldt down to Greenberg. What I would like to demonstrate first is that a cross-linguistic grammatical typology is utterly meaningless unless it is based on an independent non-structural definition of the functional domain to be ‘typed’. All cross-language typologists, regardless of theoretical orientation, make the very same fundamental logical assumption underlying all taxonomies:2 (20) The logical assumption of taxonomy In different languages we find different types of structures that somehow must be grouped together as members of more general meta-types. But meta-types of what? The tacit structuralist assumption, whether articulated or not, has always been that the typologist groups types of structures into meta-types of structures. But a brief examination of the facts will suffice to convince us that this strictly-logical approach to grammatical typology — grouping structural sub-types into their structural meta-types — could not possibly work for grammar. In attempting to construct a grammatical typology by purely structural means, one must first decide why structure A (in language a) and structure B (in language b) should be grouped together as sub-types of structural meta-type I; while structure C (in language c) and structure D (in language d) should be grouped together as sub-types of structural meta-type II. Now, one may indeed argue that a purely structural criterion for such sub-grouping does exist — structural similarity. One can now go on and observe the pattern of structural

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

similarities between structures A,B,C,D, and then group them accordingly. While this procedure indeed sounds feasible in principle, a single concrete example will illustrate the total bankruptcy of such an approach to grammatical typology.3 Consider the cross-linguistic typological diversity of passive constructions. A quick survey would reveal the following major structural types: A.

Adjectival-stative In some languages, such as English, a passive clause arose diachronically from, and still resembles structurally, predicate-adjective (stative-resultative) clauses, as in: (21) a. b. c. d.

Passive: Adjectival-stative: Perfect-resultative: Predicate-adjective:

It was broken (by someone) It is broken It has been broken It is big

B.

Nominalization In some languages, such as Ute, a passive clause arose diachronically from, and still resembles structurally, a nominalized clause, as in (Givón 1980): (22) a. Passive múusa-ci paxá-ta-pu =ga cat-obj kill-pass-rem ‘The cat was killed’ b. Verb-phrase nominalization múusa-paxá-ta ka-’áy-wa-t ’ura-’ay cat-kill-nom neg-good-neg-nom be-imm ‘Cat-killing is bad’ C.

Reflexive In some languages, such as Spanish, a passive clause arose diachronically from, and still resembles structurally, a reflexive-reciprocal middle-voice clause, as in: (23) a. Impersonal passive se-curó a los brujos ref-cure/3sg obj the sorcerer ‘Someone cured the sorcerers’ b. Reflexive se armó de todas sus armas ref arm/3sg with all his weapons ‘he armed himself with all his weapons’ c. Reciprocal se combatían recip fight/imperf/3pl ‘they fought each other’

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d. Middle-voice se curaron los brujos ref cure/past/3pl the sorcerers ‘The sorcerers got well’ ‘The sorcerers cured themselves’ D.

L-dislocation plus impersonal ‘they’ Finally, in some languages, such as Kimbundu, a passive construction arose diachronically from, and still resembles structurally, a left-dislocation construction plus the impersonal pronoun ‘they’, as in (Givón 1995: Ch. 3): (24) a. Passive Nzua a-mu-mono kwa meme John they-him-saw by me ‘John was seen by me’ (lit.: ‘John, they saw him by me’) b. L-dislocation Nzua, aana a-mu-mono John children they-him-saw ‘John, the children saw him’ c. Impersonal-subject with L-dislocation Nzua, a-mu-mono John they-him-saw ‘John, they saw him’ (anaphoric/active) ‘John, he was seen’ (impersonal/passive) What gave rise to the typological diversity of passive constructions is the fact that each passive type A–D arose diachronically from a different source construction. That source construction, however, shares some functional features with the passive, in the relevant sub-domains of de-transitivity. This partial functional similarity — partial overlap — is what makes possible the diachronic extension from the various source domains towards the target passive function. Now, while the synchronic function of these re-analyzed constructions is roughly similar, that of passive voice (see Chapter 13), their diverse structures still reflect many features of their diachronic source constructions. This is because in diachronic change — grammaticalization — invariably structural reanalysis lags far behind functional extension (Givón 1971a, 1979a: Ch. 6; Heine et al. 1991; Hopper and Traugott 1993). Therefore, if we were to construct a taxonomy of the passive sub-types A-D by means of structural similarity, we would group the English passive (A) with the other adjectival copular constructions in (21). We would group the Ute passive (B) with the agentsuppressing verb-phrase nominalization in (22). We would group the Spanish se-marked passive (C) with the reflexive, reciprocal and middle-voice constructions in (23). And we would group the Kimbundu passive (D) with the L-dislocation and impersonal-‘they’ clauses in (24).

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

The alternative to the structuralist approach to grammatical typology is to recognize explicitly what has been implicit in the practice of grammatical typology ever since its inception by the great 19th Century comparativists: that in human language there is always more than one structural means of affecting the same communicative function. And that grammatical typology is the study of the diversity of structures that can perform the same type of function. That is: (25) In grammatical typology, one enumerates the main structural means by which different languages code the same functional domain. A meaningful grammatical typology, so it appears, cannot be practiced by adhering to Saussure’s arbitrariness dogma. Of course, linguists can and often do persist in referring to the various domains to be ‘typed’ by purely structural labels. They can do this for two partially-overlapping reasons. First, they often rely on an implicit functional organization of grammar-coded domains. And second, due to the partial isomorphism between grammatical structures and communicative functions, it is sometimes possible to assemble a coherent functional domain by the criterion of structural similarity — the demonstration above notwithstanding (see §1.8 below). One may as well note that principle (25) closely echoes the practice of structural typology in biology. Consider, for example, the main types of ambulation: (with fins); •
swimming
walking (with •
slithering (withlegs); the body); •
flying (with wings). • The reason why these behaviors — and their supporting structures — are grouped together in a meaningful comparative set is because they all perform a similar function, that of ambulation. Comparing the bat’s wings and the elephant’s ears on grounds of structural similarity would be nonsensical. As would be the comparison of the bat’s wing with the human prehensile fingers, its evolutionary homolog. To echo Aristotle, function provides the relevant context for classifying biologically-based structures. 1.6.2

The diachronic underpinnings of grammatical typology As is rather transparent from the preceding discussion, the study of grammatical typology is meaningless as a purely synchronic enterprise. This is so because the sum-total of the various structural types that can code a particular target functional domain is nothing but the sum total of the various diachronic grammaticalization pathways from possible — functionally similar — source domains. From this follows a related observation. While synchronic grammatical structure and its typological diversity can and should be studied on its own terms, a profound understanding of the principles that govern typological variation in grammar cannot be arrived at without studying the diachronic process of grammaticalization (Bybee 1985; Heine et al. 1991; Heine and Traugott, ed. 1991; Hopper and Traugott 1993; inter alia).

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The analogy between the diachronic rise of grammar and evolutionary biology is again striking. The comparison of the bat’s wings with its evolutionary homolog, the human hand, is indeed meaningful, albeit developmentally. For it may yield a more profound understanding of how both could arise through functional extension of the mammal foreleg — toward different functional domains. Extension by functional similarity, homoplasy, is indeed central to evolutionary thinking. Thus, Ernst Mayr observes: “…Another entirely different and much more dramatic way by which evolutionary novelties can be acquired is a change in the function of a structure. Here an existing structure, let us say the [sensory] antennae of Daphnia, acquires the additional function of a swimming paddle and, under new selection pressure, becomes enlarged and modified…During a succession of functions, a structure always passes through a stage when it can simultaneously perform both jobs…” (Mayr 1997, This is Biology, pp. 184–185)

In biology, as in grammatical typology, the inventory of extant variants is but the inventory the evolutionary pathways that gave rise to them. Understanding the first without the second is indeed nonsensical. A meaningful grammatical typology, so it appears, cannot be practiced by adhering to Saussure’s separation dogma either. 1.6.3

Typology and universals of grammar The apparent vastness of cross-language diversity has given rise to two extreme approaches to language universals. On the one hand, following Aristotle, Saussure and Bloomfield in the matter of arbitrariness, one may elect to overestimate diversity, to the point of giving up on universals altogether. On the other, following Plato’s, Saussure’s and Chomsky’s penchant for idealization, one may elect to dismiss apparent diversity as superficial, ephemeral, epiphenomenal or idealized — eida, langue, competence — and posit extremely elaborate and abstract (or formal) universals. The typological approach to grammar that re-emerged in the 1960’s, beginning with Greenberg (1966a,b, 1974, 1976, 1978, 1979), follows an empirical and pragmatic middleground. First, it recognizes that universals need not be absolute, but may sometimes be a matter of degree or tendency. This is due to the great complexity of biologically-based (cognitive, communicative, grammatical) sub-systems, where multiple factors interact in complex and often competing ways. For example, in phonology, perceptual transparency competes with ease of articulation. The first motivates slowed-down processing and sound dissimilation. The second motivates speeded-up processing and sound assimilation. Both motivations are adaptive and universal, but they predict conflicting surface behaviors. In the same vein in grammar, form-function transparency (isomorphism, iconicity; see §1.7 below) competes with economic motivation (Haiman 1983, 1985a; see §1.8 below). Universals of grammar are not always overtly-observed features of language, such as: nouns, verbs and adjectives; •
having •
having a particular word-order;

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

a particular morphology; •
having •
having the same passive-clause structure. Quite often they are the factors or sub-systems that underlie such overt features; or the oftenconflicting principles that govern their interaction. And these controlling principles often manifest themselves developmentally — in evolution, diachrony or acquisition. So that synchronic structure or behavior merely reflects their cumulative impact. An obvious feature of the typological approach to grammar has already been noted above — that languages can code the same functional domain by more than one structural means. But the diversity of structure-types that may code the same domain is surprisingly constrained, seldom exceeding 5–7 major types.4 Given that the number of mathematically — or even biologically — possible structures is much larger than the rather sparse inventory of attested types, a serious theory of universals seeks to explain this seeming paucity of extant types. That is, it is honor-bound to ask: (26) Theoretical explanation of constrained diversity What are the adaptive factors — be they cultural, communicative, developmental, cognitive, neurological or biological — that constrain diversity so severely? For as long as an explanatory theory of language and grammar is to remain empirical, it cannot confine itself to purely formal universals. So that whenever formal structures or principles are discovered, they themselves must be explained substantively, that is adaptively. This does not preclude the fact, however, that complex structure sometimes become partially ritualized; or that their functional explanation may be complex or indirect; or that on occasion biologically-based systems produce excess structure (see discussion in §1.8 below). The insistence on substantive, adaptive, functional explanations is due in part to the fact that biologically-based systems are complex and interactive, often defying formalization. More crucially, however, the evolution, development and synchronic workings of complex biological systems are all adaptively motivated. So that theoretical understanding of such systems must likewise be grounded in substantive, adaptive explanation. Formalization is, in principle, not an explanation but rather a more generalized, concise description (Givón 1979: Ch. 1). 1.6.4

Ranges of typological variation As noted above, languages may differ typologically in the way they code the very same functional domain by different structural means. But, cross-language typological variation may also arise from two other systematic sources: density along the same complex domain; •
coding
functional organization of the same complex domain. • Many grammar-coded domains are complex and multi-dimensional, with the underlying dimensions being, at least in principle, scalar. But grammatical coding is usually sparse and

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categorial, picking up only portions, or selected points, on a scalar functional domain, while leaving other portions un-coded. As a result, one language may over-code a particular functional domain, while another may under-code it. As an illustration, consider the coding of past and future tense in English and Bemba. In Bemba, both the present and the future are split into four morphologically-marked divisions (Givón 1972: Ch. 4): a few hours from now •
within (a few hours ago, in a few hours) within today •
further (earlier today, later today) the day next to today •
within (yesterday, tomorrow) the day next to today •
beyond (before yesterday, after tomorrow). English, on the other hand, codes only one division of past or future — before vs. after time-of-speech, respectively. In comparison with Bemba, then, English clearly under-codes the domain of tense. Put another way, the coding-density of tense in Bemba is much greater than in English. But languages can also display considerable differences in the way they organize, or carve-up, grammar-coded functional domains. For example, in Athabaskan and TibetoBurman languages, the major dimension along which the tense-aspect-modality system is organized is that of perfectivity (see Chapters 6, 7, below): = completed (past) •
perfective
imperfective = not yet completed (present, future, habitual). • In Austronesian languages, on the other hand, the major division is typically that of modality (see Chapters 6, 7, below): = at a specific time (past, present) •
realis
irrealis = not at any specific time (future, habitual). • This kind of cross-language variability, referred to by Harder (1996) as ‘the structure of function’, highlights the non-trivial role of grammar as an organizing principle. Not only is grammar a superficial coding-device, slapped over identically-organized, universal functional domains for the purpose of communication. Quite often it is also the very means for differential functional organization of those domains.

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

1.7

Generativity and variation

1.7.1

The bounds of rule-governedness In a well-known paper titled “On the notion ‘rule of grammar’”, Chomsky (1961) outlined his formal, logical-mathematical perspective on the structure of language, one that haunts generative linguistics to this day: “…By “grammar of the language L” I will mean a device of some sort (that is, a set of rules) that provides, at least, a complete specification of an infinite set of grammatical sentences of L and their structural description. In addition to making precise the notion “structural description”, the theory of grammar should meet requirements of the following kind. It should make available: (1)

a. a class of possible grammars G1, G2… b. a class of possible sentences S1, S2… c. a function f such that f(i, j) is a set of structural descriptions of the sentence Si that are provided by the grammar Gj, d. a function m(i) which evaluates Gi, e. a function g such that g(i, n) is the description of a finite automaton that takes sentences of (b) as input and gives structural descriptions assigned to these sentences by Gi…”

(Chomsky 1961, p. 6)

Chomsky’s vision of grammar as an algorithm, a logic machine, likened rules of grammar to rules of logic and mathematics or, for that matter, physics. Like those, rules of grammar were asserted to be exceptionless and governed by necessary and sufficient criteria. A diametrically opposed view of grammar is offered by Paul Hopper, in the context of his concept of emergent grammar: “…The notion of emergence is a pregnant one. It is not intended to be a standard sense of origins or genealogy, not a historical question of “how” the grammar came to be the way it “is”, but instead it takes the adjective emergent seriously as a continual movement toward structure, a postponement or “deferral” of structure, a view of structure as always provisional, always negotiable, and in fact as epiphenomenal…Structure, then, in this view is not an overarching set of abstract principles, but more a question of a spreading of systematicity from individual words, phrases and small sets…” (Hopper 1987, p. 142; italics added)

Purple prose aside, Hopper seems to suggest that grammar is totally flexible and always negotiated for the occasion. In other words, it is 100% dependent on its communicative context. Whatever systematicity, rigidity or generality that may be detected in grammar, are but a mirage of the linguist’s capricious analytic habits. While diametrically opposed in their concept of rule-governedness, the two extreme positions articulated by Chomsky and Hopper nonetheless share the very same logicallyflawed reasoning. In Chomsky’s case, the implicit inference goes like this:

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of grammar are not 100% flexible; •
rules •
therefore rules of grammar must be 100% rigid. Hopper’s implicit reasoning appears to be: of grammar are not 100% rigid; •
rules
therefore rules of grammar must be 100% flexible. • Thus, Chomsky and Hopper seem to share the Platonic bias toward generalizations:

•
a rule is only a rule if it is 100% applicable. This fallacious reasoning is surprisingly common among linguists, and can be found in, e.g., Givón (1982a) and Dryer (1995, 1997). The two extreme positions to generativity can only be sustained by a selective access to the facts of human communication. In Chomsky’s case, we have already noted that his notion of competence allows him to dismiss all variable and unruly data of real communicative behavior as reflecting mere performance. Hopper, in contrast, cites actual textual data, but only selectively, citing only instances that uphold his point. And both extreme positions to generativity evade the fundamental question of frequency distribution:

•
What is the distribution of rule-governedness vs. variability in human communication? It behooves us to note that a third, middle-ground, position has existed in linguistics for a long time. This position recognizes that both Chomsky and Hopper are right — but only partially. This is the position articulated by both Edward Sapir and Otto Jespersen. Consider first Sapir’s (1921) celebrated quotation: “…Were a language ever completely “grammatical”, it would be a perfect engine of conceptual expression. Unfortunately, or luckily, no language is tyrannically consistent. All grammars leak…” (Sapir, Language, 1921, p. 38; italics added)

If I am not misinterpreting Sapir, I believe he did not assert here that all rules of grammars leak all the time, but rather that no grammar is totally leak-free. A similar perspective was expressed by Jespersen (1924), in his discussion of lexical classes: “…Most of the definitions given in even recent books are little better than sham definitions in which it is extremely easy to pick holes…Not a single one of these definitions is either exhaustive or cogent…” (Jespersen 1924, The Philosophy of Grammar, pp. 58–59)

Again, it seems that Jespersen does not reject the existence of some rigidity in grammatical generalizations (‘rules’), but only the tyrannical assumption that all rules of grammar are exceptionless and squeaky clean. The approach to grammar pursued here is founded upon the middle-ground position of Sapir and Jespersen. It recognizes that grammar is a categorizing, discretizing instrument par excellence. A code is, manifestly, always sparser and more abstract than what it codes. It is therefore hardly a surprise that a high degree of rule-governedness — generativity — crop up when one studies the frequency distribution of grammar in text (Givón 1999). But this

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

29

should not blind us to the fact that grammar is seldom if ever 100% rule-governed. Or that the residual flexibility, graduality and variability of grammar are adaptively well motivated. 1.7.2

Categories, continua and prototypes The two extreme approaches to the rule-governedness of grammar, Chomsky’s and Hopper’s, are but the latest recapitulations of similar extreme postures in philosophy and psychology. In the following sections I will first outline the antecedents of the two approaches in philosophy and psychology. I will then describe an alternative — the empirical middle-ground position — and point out its obvious adaptive foundations. 1.7.2.1
Philosophical antecedents In philosophy, Chomsky’s position can be traced back to Plato’s essentialist doctrine of meaning, as depicted by Plato’s Cratylus and other dialogues (Bostock 1994; Williams 1994; see §1.1 above). Categories of meaning within the Platonist tradition are clean and discrete, with no possible hedges, ambiguities or gradations. This idealization was passed down through an illustrious tradition, via St. Augustine, Descartes and the Logical Positivists (Russell 1956). The Platonic approach to categories can be illustrated with a Venn-diagram, where individuals can be either members or non-members in a category — but never partmembers along a continuum (of, say, similarity): (27)

B A C

In terms of the distribution of the populations of token-members of two different categorytypes across the categorial continuum-space, it is implicit in the Platonic approach that all members cluster together at the categorial mean. No ambiguity or ‘degree of membership’ is tolerated. That is:

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(28)

% of members within subsegments of the category space

Categorial space Location of all members of category A

Location of all members of category B

The philosophical antecedent of Hopper’s position can be traced back to passages in both Aristotle and Plato, but has been most forcefully expressed in this century by Ludwig Wittgenstein. Wittgenstein (1953) argued that meaning is profoundly context-dependent and usage-driven: “…A move in chess doesn’t consist simply in moving a piece in such-and-such way on the board — nor yet in one’s thoughts and feelings as one makes the move; but in the circumstances that we call “playing a game of chess”, “solving a chess problem”, and so on…” (Wittgenstein 1953, Philosophical Investigation, 33, p. 17; italics added). “…For a large class of cases — though not for all — in which we employ the word “meaning” it can be defined as thus: the meaning of a word is its use in language…” (ibid, 43, p. 2O; italics added).

What is more, meaning is non-discrete, i.e. involves graded continua. Wittgenstein’s celebrated metaphor of semantic relatedness as ‘family resemblance’ runs as follows: “…(we) can see how similarities crop up and disappear. And the result of this examination is this: we see a complicated network of similarities overlapping and crisscrossing, sometimes overall similarities, sometimes similarities of detail. I can think of no better expression to characterize these similarities than “family resemblances”; for the various resemblances between members of a family: build, features, colour of eyes, gait, temperament etc. etc. overlap and criss-cross in the same way. — And I shall say: ‘games’ form a family…” (ibid, 66, 67, p. 32.; italics added)

Expressed as a Venn-diagram, Wittgenstein’s ‘family resemblance’ approach to meaning categories may be given as:

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

(29)

A

B

C

D

The frequency distribution of token-members of Wittgensteinean categories along the categorial continuum-space may be given as, alternatively: (30)

% of members within subsegments of the category space

Categorial space

1.7.2.2
Antecedents in psychology The very same dichotomy, between approaches of extreme discreteness and extreme continuum, also crops up in psychology. A close analog of the discrete, Platonic approach may be seen in the work of Smith et al. (1974), where lexical-semantic concepts are characterized in terms of lists of their discrete, atomic features. Semantic similarity between words is then expressed in terms of their containing one or more identical features. A close analog to the Wittgensteinean account of meaning can be seen in the semantic networks cum spreading activation model of Collins and Quillian (1972) and Collins and Loftus (1975). Concepts are likened in this model to nodes in a connected network. Adjacent nodes activate each other, and such activation can, at least in principle, spread on and on. Such spreading activation is reminiscent of both Wittgenstein’s ‘family resemblance’ and Lakoff’s (1987) radial categories. Semantic similarity within such a system can be expressed in terms of distance, i.e. the number of intervening connections between two nodes. In principle, at least, this approach views meaning as graded and non-discrete. 1.7.2.3
Prototypes: The empirical middle ground The elaboration of the pragmatic middle ground in both psychology and linguistics is due to the work of Eleanor Rosch (1973, 1975). Rosch’s position may be viewed as an intellectual extension of the Collins and Quillian (1972) network model, but with some crucial differences. Its salient properties are:

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a.

Multiple criterial features Membership in a natural category, unlike that in a logical category, is not determined by a single either/or criterion, but rather by a potentially large basket of features. And some of those features may be ‘more criterial’, so that more members will display them. b.

Prototypes and graded membership The most prototypical member of a category is the one displaying the largest number of criterial features. But other members may display fewer features and still be members. c.

Strong feature association The criterial features of a natural category tend to be strongly associated; so that in the majority of instances, having one feature implies having many of the others. d.

Clustering around the categorial mean (prototype) As a logical consequence of strong feature association (c), the vast majority of tokenmembers of a natural category will cluster around the categorial mean, i.e. the prototype. Outliers and ambiguous members tend to be a relatively small minority of the total population. Properties (a), (b) of prototype-based categories represent the Wittgensteinean aspect of Rosch’s model, allowing for graded membership. Properties (c), (d) represent its Platonic aspect, i.e. its substantial discreteness. The model thus predicts the that the vast majority of the members of one category will be easily distinguishable from the vast majority of the members of a contrasting category along the continuum. A Venn-diagram representation of Roschean categories may be given as: (31)

b

a

c

d

The frequency distribution of token-members of Roschean categories along the categorial continuum may be given as:

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

(32)

mean of category A

overlapping fringes

mean of category B

% of population

Categorial space

1.7.2.4
The adaptive foundations of prototypes The hybrid nature of prototype-based categories — partly Platonic, partly Wittgensteinean — is not a philosophical choice. Rather, it is an adaptive compromise designed to accommodate two conflicting demands on biologically-based information processing. The first demand is that of rapid processing of categories that are either very frequent and thus highly predictable, or carry great adaptive urgency. In biological organisms, the processing of such information tends to become highly automated. And automated processing is heavily dependent of clear, discrete, hierarchized structures (Posner and Warren 1972; Posner and Snyder 1974; Schneider and Shiffrin 1977; Chase and Ericsson 1981, 1982). The most salient adaptive pressure toward automated processing is the need to draw rapid conclusions about category membership from a relatively quick scan of few salient, observable features. In a nut shell, the need to stereotype. This is precisely where features (c) and (d) of prototype-based categories becomes a crucial adaptive advantage. The more prototypical members of a category tend to be processed automatically. Since they comprise the vast majority of the population, this is where the heavy investment in the development of automaticity yields its highest dividends. As an illustration, consider the task of deciding, when walking in the bush, whether a tiger-size animal with the characteristic tiger-like stripes, viewed only briefly and scantily, is a dangerous predator or not. While encounters with tigers may be infrequent, there is a powerful, highly predictable association between the innocuous visual feature “stripes” and the lethal behavioral feature “dangerous predator”. This informational predictability, coupled with a highly adaptive urgency of avoiding tigers, is what impels us to react rapidly, indeed automatically, to the mere perception of the telltale stripes, and thus extract ‘tiger’ from ‘stripes’ with little regard to graded fineries of the specific context. The second, and conflicting, adaptive demand on categorial decisions is that of fine discrimination. In contexts of low frequency, low predictability, high uncertainty but, paradoxically, again high adaptive relevance, categorization decisions tend to be slow and conscious. Finer features and subtle contextual shades must be scanned and analyzed, carefully and slowly. The characteristic modus operandi here is that of attended processing (Posner & Warren 1972; Posner & Snyder 1974; Schneider & Shiffrin 1977). Attended, context-dependent processing is the more Wittgensteinean facet of information processing, where the organism must perform context-sensitive tasks of subtle

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discriminations along the phenomenological continuum. Marginal, non-prototypical members of a category, those that tend to occupy the ambiguity-plagued inter-categorial space, are precisely the ones that tend to be processed slowly, in an attended, contextdependent fashion. Why doesn’t the organism just ignore the small ambiguous minority, thus ‘write it off for a loss’? Sometimes it indeed does. But on occasion the minority, however small, may be just as crucial adaptively as the more prototypical majority. In performing delicate brain surgery, for example, one operates slowly, deliberately and consciously, scanning multiple contextual nuances, weighing multiple options, remaining attentive to contingencies and alternative strategies. But another, broader and highly adaptive context also depends on the more flexible, graded aspect of categorization. Change, learning, development and evolution thrive on subtle, gradual re-interpretation of categorial boundaries. Cognitively, learning is heavily dependent on judgements of similarity, analogy and metaphoric extension. Such judgements are, in principle, impossible to accommodate within a rigid, discrete categorial system. It is only the residual flexibility of prototype-based categories that can accommodate growth and learning, historical change and, ultimately, phylogenetic evolution.

1.8

Iconicity, naturalness and markedness

1.8.1

Iconicity vs. arbitrariness As noted earlier above, the functional approach to grammar is founded on the assumption that grammar, like all biologically-based systems, is adaptively motivated and thus in principle non-arbitrary. The issue of the naturalness of grammar resurfaced in the 1980’s under the banner of iconicity (see Haiman (1980, 1983, 1985a,b; Slobin 1985; Givón 1989, 1991a; inter alia). The resurgent interest in iconicity in the 1980’s was inspired by earlier work of the American philosopher C. S. Peirce (1934, 1940), who observed: “…In the syntax of every language there are logical icons of the kind that are aided by conventional rules…” (Peirce, The Philosophy of Peirce, 1940, p. 106)

As Peirce had noted, the iconicity of grammar is not absolute, but rather a matter of degree. In most grammatical constructions, more iconic devices (or principles) are intermingled with more arbitrary, conventionalized, symbolic devices (or rules). Among the principles of iconic grammatical organization noted in the resurgent iconicity literature of the 1980’s, sometimes referred to as the ‘rules’ of proto grammar, one may count: (33) Intonation rules a. Stress and predictability “Less-predictable information chunks are stressed”

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

b. Melody and relevance “Information chunks that belong together conceptually are packed together under a unified melodic contour”. c. Pause and rhythm “The size of the temporal break between information chunks corresponds to the size of the cognitive or thematic distance between them”. (34) Spacing rules a. Proximity and relevance “Information chunks that belong together conceptually are kept in close spatio-temporal proximity”. b. Proximity and scope “Functional operators are kept closest to the operand to which the are relevant”. (35) Sequence rules a. Order and importance “A more important information chunk is fronted”. b. Occurrence order and reported order “The temporal order in which events occurred will be mirrored in the linguistic report of the events”. (36) Quantity rules a. Zero expression and predictability “Predictable — or already activated — information will be left unexpressed”. b. Zero expression and relevance “Unimportant or irrelevant information will be left unexpressed”. These iconic principles, or ‘rules’ of proto-grammar, are attested in pre-grammatical pidgin communication (see §1.3 above), which is devoid of more conventionalized, symbolic grammatical devices. But the very same ‘rules’ are also attested in grammaticalized language, where the ‘rules’ of proto-grammar are integrated with the more symbolic machinery — morphology, hierarchic-syntactic constructions, grammatical word-order and various formal constraints (see §1.2.3.1 above). As a brief illustration of the mixed — part iconic, part symbolic — nature of mature grammar, consider the treatment of the agent in three voice constructions in English: the neutral-active, the agented passive (‘inverse’), and the agentless passive: (37)

most topical agent a. Neutral-active:

The woman shot the deer

b. Agented passive: The deer was shot by the woman c. Agentless passive: The deer was shot (yesterday) least topical agent

35

36

Syntax

In terms of the discourse-pragmatic function of topicality, the three constructions are scaled: The agent is most topical in the neutral-active (37a), less in the agented passive (‘inverse’) (37b), and least in the agentless passive (37c). The syntactic coding-scale in (37) reflects the use of two iconic principles. The sequential-order principle (35a) is pressed into service in both (37a) and (37b). In (37a), the more-topical agent occupies the clause-initial position, the less-topical patient the clausefinal position. In (37b) the order is reversed. The quantity principle (36b) is pressed into service in the agentless passive (37c), where the non-topical agent is absent altogether. But in addition, the scale in (37) also reflects the more symbolic conventions of casemarking. In the neutral-active (37a), the agent is coded as the subject and the patient as the object. In both passives (37b, c), the patient is coded as the subject. And in (37b), in addition, the agent is coded with the oblique instrumental case (‘by’). As noted earlier above, the doctrine of the arbitrariness harkens back to Aristotle, Saussure and Bloomfield. It has been expressed most succinctly, however, by Chomsky (1968), who contrasts the symbolic nature of human language with the iconicity of animal communication: “…every animal communication system that is known… either consists of a fixed, finite number of signals, each associated with a specific range of behavior… or it makes use of a fixed, finite number of linguistic dimensions, each of which is associated with a particular non-linguistic dimension in such a way that selection of a point along the linguistic dimension determines and signals a point along the associated non-linguistic dimension… When I make an arbitrary statement in human language… I am not selecting a point along some linguistic dimension that signals a corresponding point along an associated non-linguistic dimension…” (Chomsky, Language and Mind, 1968, pp. 69–70)

Almost as extreme a position, that grammar is 100% isomorphic to communicative function, has been occasionally been expressed by functionalists (e.g. Garcia 1979; Hopper and Thompson 1984; inter alia). The facts once again seem to support a middle-ground position, somewhere along the lines hinted at by Peirce. Grammaticalization, whether in childhood or in history, entails a marked increase in arbitrariness, as more conventional rules are added to and blended with the more iconic principles of proto-grammar. Indeed symbolicity and routinization are part of the price one pays for the development of an automated processing system (Givón 1989: Ch. 7; Haiman 1991). The balance in grammar between iconicity and arbitrariness is, once again, a classical adaptive compromise between conflicting functional pressures. In grammaticalization, one gains processing speed via automaticity, while giving up a certain portion of code transparency, via increased arbitrariness. Adaptive compromises are ubiquitous in biological design. Thus, for example, a higher speed of motion is enhanced by bulkier musculature. But beyond a certain point, muscle weight retards speed and agility. Likewise, flight is extremely adaptive as a means of evading earth-bound predators and obstacles. But gravity-defying flight is also much more energy-

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

consuming, requiring more developed chest muscles and a concomitant increase in body weight, which in turn demands more intensive metabolism and higher food demands. A certain measure of structural arbitrariness is also found in complex biological codes, under the label of excess structure. As complex structures evolve, their very complexity introduces a measure of arbitrariness. This has been described in the linear chemical code of nucleic acid (DNA, RNA) chains. Some nucleotide triplets in the DNA or RNA chain map directly — are isomorphic to — corresponding amino acids in the protein chain. Others, however, do not map directly onto the linear structure of protein. Rather, they perform more abstract or global functions, such as processing instructions, blocking, deletion, splicing or recombining. And some may be just plain fillers, dumb concomitants of structural complexity. While nominally a linear chain, DNA is in fact a rhythmic-hierarchic structure. More general controlling loci map onto their respective functions in a less iconic, more abstract fashion. While lower levels of the hierarchy constitute a more isomorphic code (Leder 1982; Tonegawa 1985; Alt et al. 1987; Rajewsky et al. 1987; see also Futuyma 1986: Ch. 3). Excess structure in biology has been described by S. J. Gould in terms of ‘spandrels’. Unfortunately, excess structure is sometimes cited as an argument against the adaptive nature of evolution, a position seemingly articulated by Gould and Lewontin (1979) and Gould (1997), or by people who misinterpret their findings. A more mature way of interpreting excess structure, however, is to view it as a necessary consequence of the evolution of complex structures; that is, a necessary concomitant to the rise of moretransparently-adaptive features. Finally, in the diachronic evolution of grammar, many instances can be seen of how perfectly motivated and thus inherently adaptive diachronic processes can yield, sometimes rather predictably, seemingly arbitrary, spectacularly counter-iconic and thus presumably maladaptive synchronic structures (Givón 1979a: Ch. 6). This in no way obviates the adaptive nature of grammar or grammaticalization. Rather, it points out to the unavoidable penalty biological systems pay for complexity. 1.8.2

Markedness, complexity and frequency 1.8.2.1
Background The notion of markedness is implicit in the theme-and-variations approach to syntax outlined above (§1.5 above). Under one guise or another, its intellectual roots go back to antiquity. Markedness underlies the time-honored tradition of describing declaratives before imperatives and interrogatives, actives before passives, main clauses before subordinate clauses, and affirmatives before negatives. Thus for example, in opening his discussion of negation, Aristotle says: “…The first statement-making sentence is the affirmation, next is the negation…” (Aristotle, De Interpretatione; in J. Barnes, ed. 1984, p. 26).

It would have been indeed bizarre for Aristotle to have said instead: “…The first statementmaking sentence is the negation, next is the affirmation…”.

37

38

Syntax

An explicit notion of markedness entered structural linguistics via the Prague School (see Jakobson 1932/1971, 1939/1962, 1974; Jakobson and Waugh 1979; Jakobson and Pomorska 1980; also discussion in Greenberg 1966b, 1976; Andersen 1966, 1973, 1974, 1979; Shapiro 1983). It was initially meant to be a refinement of Saussure’s notion of valeur linguistique in binary oppositions. The Pragueans noted that binary distinctions in phonology and grammar were systematically skewed, or asymmetrical. One member of the contrasting pair acted as the presence of a property, the other as its absence. What is more, the systematic skewing of linguistic contrasts was a necessary reflection of the hierarchic nature of linguistic structures (Shapiro 1983). Structuralists often content themselves with the more formal aspect of markedness, that of structural complexity, observing that the marked case is more complex, and the unmarked case less. To functionalists, however, observing a systematic bias in formal complexity is but the phenomenology, i.e. facts that still demand explanation. In attempting to understand the biased distribution of structural complexity in grammatical construction, the most striking feature it correlates with is a parallel skewing in frequency distribution. Most typically, that is, the marked category is less frequent in text, and the unmarked one more frequent. This was demonstrated most succinctly over a wide range of phonological, semantic and grammatical categories by Greenberg (1976). But the association between the structural complexity and use frequency of grammatical categories is a fact that itself demands explanation. And the explanation must invoke more substantive grounds, be those cognitive, communicative, socio-cultural, neurobiological, developmental or evolutionary. Ultimately, markedness may be viewed as the governing meta-principle of iconicity, expressing the correlation — admittedly not always perfect — between structural and functional complexity (Givón 1991b): that are structurally more marked tend to also be substantively •
Categories more marked. 1.8.2.2
The context-dependence of markedness One may as well note that markedness is a context-dependent phenomenon par excellence. The very same structure may be marked in one context and unmarked in another. This may be illustrated with two simple examples. Clausal subjects are characteristically definite, referring and topical. Instrumentals are characteristically indefinite, non-referential and non-topical. Consequently, it is much more common to find (38a) than (38b) in natural communication: (38) a. She cut the meat with a knife b. A woman cut the meat with it If one were now to inquire: Which determiner category is the marked case, definite or indefinite? The answer would be context-dependent: In the context of the clause’s subject, indefinite is the marked category; in the context of the instrumental, definite.

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

In a similar vein, active-voice clauses, as in (39a) below, predominate, in terms of frequency, in oral communication about everyday human affairs. Passives-voice (39b) and impersonal-subject clauses (39c), on the other hand, predominate in academic discourse about abstract topics: (39) a. She wrote the book last year b. The book was written last year c. One writes books (all the time) Which clause-type is the marked case then, and which the unmarked? In the context of everyday oral communication, the passive is marked. In the context of written academic discourse, the active. Markedness thus pertains to not only linguistic categories, but also to the communicative contexts within which they are embedded. And it is probably reasonable to assume that formal, written, academic communication is the marked discourse-type, and everyday face-to-face oral communication the unmarked. Or, as noted by Jespersen: “…I am firmly convinced many of the shortcomings of current grammatical theory are due to the fact that grammar has been chiefly studied in connexion with ancient languages known only through the medium of writing, and that a correct apprehension of the essential nature of language can only be obtained when the study is based in the first place on direct observation of living speech and only secondarily on written and printed documents…” (Jespersen, The Philosophy of Grammar, 1924, p. 1)

One important logical consequence of the context dependence of markedness is that substantive explanations of markedness must be domain-specific. That is, the cognitive, communicative, socio-cultural or biological correlates of markedness may vary from one domain to the next. Thus, the preference for placing the agent in the subject (topic) role in transitive-clauses, thus making the active clause the unmarked case, probably reflects a cultural norm, that of talking more about purposeful actants like ourselves than about dumb objects. On the other hand, the fact that definite referents are more frequent in discourse than indefinites probably reflects a communicative norm, that of talking about the same topic over long equi-topic chains of clauses. And the fact that voiced vowels are the unmarked norm in phonology no doubt reflects some perceptual universal of the human ear. 1.8.2.3
Theme-and-variation syntax and the markedness of clause types It is hardly an accident that the transformational formats of Harris (1956) and Chomsky (1965) chose the main, declarative, affirmative, active clause as the reference-point (deep structure, theme) from which all other clause-types are derived by transformations. This is nothing but the traditional grammarian’s intuition dressed up in formal garb. In his ground-breaking work on grammatical relations, Edward Keenan (1975, 1976a) observed that the subjects of basic (theme) clauses have the highest number of possible subject properties, as against the subjects of non-basic clauses (variations). In other words, the subject of the ‘theme’ clause is the most prototypical subject. In (40) below, the theme-and-variation list given in (18) above is re-cast in some more detail:

39

40

Syntax

(40) Main-declarative-affirmative-active/transitive (theme) a. Marla broke the glass Negative b. Marla didn’t break the glass Non-declarative c. Break the glass! d. Who broke the glass? e. Did Marla break the glass?

(imperative) (wh-interrogative) (yes/no-interrogative

De-transitives f. The glass was broken (by Marla) g. As for Henry, Marla hit him h. Marla breaks things i. The glass is broken j. Marla broke herself

(passive) (inverse) (antipassive) (middle-voice) (reflexive)

Subordinate k. (The woman) who broke the glass… l. (Marla wanted) to break the glass m. (He said) that Marla hit Henry n. When Marla broke the glass o. Having broke the glass, (Marla…) p. Marla’s breaking of the glass…

(relative clause) (verb complement) (verb complement) (adverbial clause) (adverbial clause) (nominalized)

Chomsky’s (1965) format of deriving all variant clause-types (40b–p) by syntactic transformations from their syntactic deep-structure (the theme (40a)) turns out to have been a formal book-keeping manoeuver with little empirical consequences. Nevertheless, his observation that the theme shared with the variants much of its propositional-semantic contents remains sound. As does the observation that if the theme is, by a whooping order of magnitude, the most common clause-type in human discourse, then it is likely to have a privileged cognitive status. The following tables illustrate the kind of biased frequency distribution of theme vs. variant clause-types that can be found in various text-types (Givón 1991b). (41) Frequency distribution of main vs. subordinate clauses in English narrative written–academic conjoined N

%

43 36%

oral–informal

subordinate

total

N

%

N

%

77

64%

120

100%

conjoined N

%

120 86%

subordinate

total

N

%

N

%

20

14%

140

100%

The functional approach to language and the typological approach to grammar

41

(42) Frequency of non-declarative clauses in English oral narrative and conversation narrative non-decl.

conversation

declar.

total

non-decl.

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

/

/

109

100%

109

100%

46

46%

decl. N

total

%

53 53%

N

%

99

100%

(43) Frequency of non-declarative clauses in English written narrative and embedded dialogue narrative non-decl.

dialogue

declar.

total

non-decl.

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

/

/

81

100%

81

100%

22

16%

decl. N

total

%

115 84%

N

%

137

100%

(44) Frequency distribution of affirmative and negative clauses in written English narrative clause type text academic fiction

affirmative

negative

total

N

%

N

%

N

%

096 142

95% 88%

05 20

05% 12%

101 162

100% 100%

(45) Frequency distribution of active and passive clauses in written English clause type text academic fiction news sports

1.9

active

passive

total

N

%

N

%

N

%

049 177 045 064

82% 91% 92% 96%

11 18 04 03

18% 09% 08% 04%

060 195 049 067

100% 100% 100% 100%

On the use, and uses, of this book This book has been written for multiple audiences, and is thus itself an adaptive compromise. Its intended uses are:

42

Syntax

introduction to syntax/grammar for students who have had only a one-course •
An introduction to linguistics.
A to field work in descriptive grammar. •
A guide general • correlates.reference book to grammatical phenomena and their functional As a textbook for rank beginners, the book presupposes a teacher who is either well versed in the material, or is willing to immerse her/himself in it and supplement it with appropriate analytic problems. The task of sequencing is a notoriously hard nut to crack, since grammatical subsystems, like organs of the biological organism, are profoundly inter-connected. To the extent possible, I have attempted to present the grammar of simple — main, declarative, affirmative, active — clauses in Volume I, and that of complex clauses in Volume II. My valiant intentions, however, have been subverted almost from the start by the inherent paradox of grammatical morphology. Most morphological sub-systems found even in the simplest clause — grammatical case (Chapter 4), tense-aspect-modality (Chapters 6,7), pronouns and agreement (Chapter 9) and reference and definiteness (Chapter 10) — in fact pertain functionally to discourse-pragmatics. That is, their functional scope transcends the clause in which they reside. What I have done to offset this problem, as well as other problems inherent in the connectivity of grammar, is indulge in extensive cross-referencing throughout both volumes. While rendering the book somewhat ungainly, this practice was deemed a necessary adaptive compromise, thus perhaps an apt metaphor for grammar itself.

Notes to Chapter 1 1. The relative pronoun ‘which’ identifies the missing instrument as some type of an object (propositional semantics), but only in the discourse context that prompts relative clauses (discourse pragmatics). 2. For a logical treatment of this, see Russell’s Theory of Types (1908; reprinted in Russell 1956, p. 175). 3. Of course, the classical problem of similarity won’t go away, being rooted in the need to distinguish between differences in kind and differences in degree. Such a determination depends on notions of relevance, perspective, or intended context, thus on pragmatic judgement-calls. In observing that “…tin is like silver in color, and gold is like fire in so far as it is yellow or red…” (Metaphysics, p. 206), Aristotle seem to suggest that the question “Is gold like silver or like fire?” depends on whether the intended context of the question is similarity in consistency (like silver) or in color (like fire). Plato, through Socrates, makes a similar point in discussing the context-dependency of comparison: “…and didn’t Heraclitus, whom you yourself bring in, say the same thing too, that ‘the wisest of men is seen to be but a monkey when compared to God in wisdom and fineness and everything else’?…” (Hippias Major, pp. 10–11; in Woodruff (tr. 1982)). 4. As noted in note 3, above, the difference between ‘kind’ and ‘degree’ is in principle a matter of perspective.



Chapter 2

The lexicon Words and morphemes

2.1

Preliminaries “…The limits of my language mean the limits of my world…” L. Wittgenstein Tractatus Logico Philosophicus (1918, p. 115) “…To imagine a language is to imagine a form of life…” L. Wittgenstein Philosophical Investigations (1953, p. 8)

2.1.1

Recapitulation: Meaning, information, discourse This chapter covers what has been called traditionally parts of speech. In studying grammar, we deal with clauses (propositions) from two complementary perspectives:

•
Internal: •
External:

How they are constructed from a vocabulary; How they are combined together into discourse.

As noted in Chapter 1 above, the three main components of human communication — words, clauses, discourse — are related to each other in a concentric fashion. That is: (1)

words clauses discourse

Sound-coded words stand for concepts, which have meaning. Grammar-coded clauses stand for propositions, which are made out of words and convey information. And clauses are most often strung together into grammar-coded multi-propositional discourse, which has coherence.

44

Syntax

2.1.2

Semantic features and semantic fields The meaning of words has both internal and external aspects. Internally, while words (or morphemes) are the smallest code units in language, they are not the smallest units of meaning. Most commonly, the meanings of words are complex clusters of semantic features. Externally, the semantic features of words determine their classification (or storage location) in the mental lexicon. The semantic features of words thus define the overall network structure of the mental lexicon, i.e. its organization into semantic fields. Consider for example the word ‘elephant’. Its semantic features make it a member of many semantic fields, such as: (2) Semantic features of ‘elephant’ mammal, herbivore, large, tusks, ivory, trunk, hunting, poaching, circus, Africa/India, etc. But these semantic features may partake in the lexical meaning of other words in addition to that of ‘elephant’. The semantic fields that intersect in ‘elephant’, corresponding to the semantic features listed above, are respectively: (3) Semantic fields intersecting in ‘elephant’ bio-classification, food, size, teeth, tooth-material, nose, hunting, poaching, entertainment, geography, etc. Each one of these semantic fields has other members in addition to ‘elephant’. The mental lexicon may thus be viewed as a network of semantic fields, where individual words — the nodes in the network — occupy the intersections of various fields. The notions of semantic feature and semantic field are thus fundamentally one and the same, but viewed from two different perspectives: individual word: A concept ‘contains’ many semantic features. •
The
The • lexicon as a whole: The lexicon is a network of many semantic fields.

2.2

Lexical vs. grammatical vocabulary

2.2.1

Words and morphemes In referring to words earlier above, we deliberately allowed a certain measure of imprecision in the discussion. This imprecision must be now removed. The vocabulary of languages can be divided into two major types, one of which is further split into two: (‘content’) words; •
lexical (‘function’) words: •
non-lexical
grammatical morphemes; •
derivational morphemes. •

The lexicon

45

The three resulting classes — lexical words, grammatical morphemes and derivational morphemes — differ substantially as to their function within the communication system:
Lexical words • What was said earlier about words, concepts and meaning in fact applies more precisely to lexical vocabulary. Lexical words code stable, culturally-shared concepts, or types of experience we encounter. Taken together as an interlocking network, they represent our shared physical, cultural and internal universe.

•


Grammatical morphemes As noted in Chapter 1 above, grammatical morphemes partake in the grammatical structure of clauses. They thus partake in the coding of both propositional information and discourse coherence.

•


Derivational morphemes Derivational morphemes are used to create (derive) new lexical words from existing ones. We will have relatively little to say about derivational morphology here, since it lies primarily in the domain of lexicography rather than grammar. In (4) below, we list the criteria ordinarily used to distinguish lexical words from morphemes — both grammatical and derivational. (4) Differences between lexical words and morphemes Criterion

Lexical words

Non-lexical morphemes

a.

morphemic status b.

phonological size c.

stress d.

semantic size

free large stressed complex specific large open world-view

bound small unstressed simple general small closed grammar or word-derivation

e.

class size f.

class membership g.

function

•


Morphemic status Lexical words tend to be free, independent words.1 Grammatical and derivational morphemes tend to be bound morphemes, i.e. affixes attached to the stems of lexical words.

•


Phonological size Lexical words tend to be phonologically larger (longer). Grammatical and derivational morphemes tend to be phonologically smaller (shorter).
Stress • Lexical words tend to carry more prominent intonation or stress. Grammatical and derivational morphemes tend to be unstressed.

•


Semantic size Lexical words tend to be semantically complex. That is, they are clusters of many, highly specific semantic features. Each lexical word is thus a member of many semantic fields. Grammatical and derivational morphemes, on the other hand, tend to be semantically

46

Syntax

simpler and more general. Often they may code a single feature, or a small cluster of highly classificatory features.

•


Class size Lexical words come in few large classes. Grammatical and derivational morphemes come in many small classes.

•


Membership The membership of a lexical class is relatively open. New members join periodically, and old members drop out, as new words are coined or the meaning of old words changes. Change in cultural world-view is the prime cause of addition or subtraction of lexical vocabulary. The membership of a grammatical class, on the other hand, is relatively closed. The addition or subtraction of members is possible, and is indeed one aspect of grammatical change. Like most other types of grammatical change, however, changes in the membership of grammatical classes do not reflect cultural change, but rather are changes in the communicative instrument itself, most likely under the following types of adaptive pressure: elaboration of the code; •
creative
truncation of code elements for faster processing; •
simplification of code:message relations. • As an illustration of the difference between lexical words and grammatical morphemes, consider the following three renditions of a short passage from Larry McMurtry’s novel Leaving Cheyenne (1962, p. 109). Version (5a) below retains only the lexical vocabulary. Version (5b) retains only the grammatical morphology. Version (5c) is the original text: (5) a. One afternoon about ten day Dad die decide ought look ranch. course be over every inch hundred time, be Dad ranch. b. -s after -ed I -ed to the. Of I had -en over of it a -s, but it had -en -s then, and not mine. c. One afternoon about ten days after Dad died I decided I ought to look over the ranch. Of course I had been over every inch of it a hundred times, but it had been Dad’s ranch then, and not mine. Version (5a) in fact approximates a pidgin rendition of the text. While cumbersome, the skeleton of the intended communication (5c) is at least discernible. In contrast, version (5b) conveys none of the message. Its various elements are indeed extremely helpful in elucidating the precise message — when combined with the lexical vocabulary as in (5c). On its own, however, the grammatical morphology in (5b) communicates nothing. The following cartoon pokes innocent fun at this.

The lexicon

DOONESBURY © 1984 G. B. Trudeau. Reprinted with permission of UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. All rights reserved.

47

48

Syntax

2.2.2

Morphemic status, morphotactics, and writing systems A caveat needs to be added to the criterion of morphemic status (4a). In general, it is true that grammatical and derivational morphemes are overwhelmingly affixes, cannot stand on their own as words, and must be either attached to lexical word-stems, or clusters together into words with other morphemes. When grammatical morphemes are written as independent words, as is customary for many of them in English, these writing conventions are due to the intercession of two factors: morphology arises historically, directly or indirectly, from lexical words via •
All grammaticalization. systems are notoriously conservative, tending to represent older •
Writing historical states. Still, some cross-language differences in morphotactics are not quite that superficial. For example, in many languages the bare stems of nouns, verbs and adjectives cannot appear as full independent words. Rather, they must always be attached to some other morpheme(s), be those grammatical or derivational. This may be briefly illustrated by contrasting English with Swahili (Bantu). (6) English Swahili child child-ren knife knive-s small

sing

fall

m-toto wa-toto ki-su vi-su m-dogo (for a child) wa-dogo (for children) ki-dogo (for a knife) vi-dogo (for knives) ku-yimba ‘to sing’, ‘singing’ a-li-yimba ‘s/he sang’ (child) wa-ta-yimba ‘they will sing’ (children) ku-anguka ‘to fall’, ‘falling’ ki-li-anguka ‘it fell’ (knife) vi-ta-anguka ‘they will fall’ (knives)

The noun stems ‘child’ and ‘knife’ can appear as independent words in English, but not in Swahili, where their near-equivalent, the noun-stems -toto and -su, respectively, must always carry a number-and-class prefix (m-, wa-, ki-, vi-, etc.). Likewise, the adjective stem ‘small’ can appear as an independent word in English, but not in Swahili, where its near-equivalent, the adjective-stem -dogo, must always carry the same number-and-class prefix as the noun to which it pertains (m-, wa-, ki-, vi-, etc.).

The lexicon

Similarly, the verb stems ‘sing’ and ‘fall’ can appear as independent words in English, but not in Swahili, where some grammatical or derivational affixes must accompany their near-equivalents (-yimba, -anguka) in order to yield an independent phonological word.

2.3

Major lexical word-classes The bulk of this chapter deals with the four major classes of lexical words that appear most widely across languages:

•
Nouns; •
Verbs; •
Adjectives; •
Adverbs. Of the four, nouns and verbs are major lexical classes in all languages. Adjectives may or may not appear in all languages as a distinct word-class. Nonetheless, both their diachronic rise as a sub-class of either nouns or verbs, or their synchronic semantic and syntactic behavior when lacking their own class, are to some extent predictable. Adverbs are the least universal lexical class. 2.3.1

Membership criteria In conformance with what was noted in Chapter 1 above concerning natural categories, membership in each major word-class is not defined by a single (Platonic) necessary-andsufficient feature, but rather by three baskets of criteria: criteria: The kind of meanings (‘semantic features’) that tend to be coded •
Semantic by words of a particular class.
Morphological The kind of bound morphemes — both grammatical and • derivational — criteria: that tend to be affixed to words of a particular class. criteria: The typical position(s) in the clause that words of a particular •
Syntactic class tend to occupy. In using a prototype-clustering approach to the membership of lexical categories, rather than rigid Platonic definitions, one merely acknowledges that lexical categories, like natural categories elsewhere, may include members that display less than 100% of the criterial properties. That is, some members are more prototypical, while others are less prototypical but still members. The most universally predictive criteria are semantic. Syntactic criteria are also highly universal. It is morphological criteria that show the highest degree of cross-language diversity. One may thus say that nouns, verbs or adjectives in one language may be more prototypical than in another. That is, they may display a higher complement of criterial properties, particularly when it comes to morphology.

49

50

Syntax

2.3.2

Pragmatic limits of semantic taxonomies One needs to bear in mind that semantic classification, like all taxonomies, may have no natural cutoff point. In principle, one may go on recognizing more and more minor classificatory features, yielding smaller and smaller classes, ultimately perhaps even ‘classes’ with a single member. While semantic analysis to the level of individual words is indeed an appropriate task for the lexicographer, the grammarian’s involvement in lexical semantics is governed by three pragmatic considerations. His classificatory features must: classes rather than individuals; •
yield
show grammatical consequences; •
show clear clear cross-linguistic relevance. • With respect to the first consideration, as already noted, single-member classes tend to be the province of the lexicographer, while grammar typically pertains to large classes. With respect to the second, grammarians are bound to ask a simple question: Does a feature, or the whole taxonomy, predict coherent classes of grammatical morphemes, constructions, or rule-governed behavior? While the cutoff-point here is never absolute, the question is nonetheless pertinent. With respect to the third, one needs to keep in mind that the grammatical consequences of a semantic taxonomy are also subject to some typological variability. This is because a semantic feature may have grammatical consequences in one language but not another. For example, noun-classifying features beyond concreteness, countability, animacy and humanity and gender have relatively few grammatical consequences in English, but extensive ramifications in the grammar of Bantu, Mayan, Oceanic or Athabaskan languages.

2.3.3

Semantic criteria: An overview Of the four major lexical word-classes we will survey here, three — nouns, adjectives, verbs — can be set apart initially by a cluster of four semantic criteria. These criteria are the most generic, or classificatory, semantic features of our conceptual lexicon. They are, most likely, at the very top of the hierarchy of semantic features by which humans classify their experience. These features are: stability (rate of change over time); •
temporal
complexity of defining sub-features); •
concreteness(number (physicality); •
spatial compactness (degree of spatial scatter). • While analytically distinct, these features exhibit strong associations, so that in many instances a feature is partially predictable from one or more of the others. Nevertheless, the feature of time stability is in some sense primus inter pares, giving coherence to the cluster as a whole. Nouns, verbs and adjectives may be placed on the scale of time-stability of coherently bundled experience. By ‘coherently-bundled’ one means compactness: either spatial

The lexicon

contiguity or temporal simultaneity or both. That is, the individual features bundled together in a single coherent experience are either spatially contiguous or temporally simultaneous or both.2 2.3.3.1
Nouns

•


Temporal stability The prototype of the class noun occupies the most time-stable end of the scale. That is, the properties of prototypical nouns change only little over repeated perceptual scans. If it is a chair now, it is still likely to be a chair in five minutes, an hour, or a day — in size, shape, color, texture, consistency or usage. Of course, a fine internal gradation still exists, so that a child may change faster than a tree, and that faster than a house, and that faster than a rock, etc.
Complexity • One important reason for the great temporal stability of prototype nouns is that they are multi-featured bundles of experience. Further, like all natural categories, they exhibit strong feature-association (see Chapter 1 above). For example, the noun horse has prototypical size, shape, color, weight, sound, smell, part-whole composition, behavioral propensities, cultural uses, etc. Consequently, when either rapid change or deviance crop up in one feature, the relative stability of the rest insures that a deviant individual remains within a reasonable range (standard deviation) of the population’s prototype (mean). A miniature horse is still a horse; as is a pink horse, or a three-legged horse, or a horse that has been trained to moo like a cow or walk upright, or a horse that refuses to be ridden.

•


Concreteness The time-stability of prototype nouns also owes much to the fact that they are concrete, and made out of relatively-durable materials. Their bundled — co-experienced — properties, such as size, color, shape or consistency, thus change relatively slowly as individual features as well.

•


Compactness The fact that prototype nouns tend to be spatially compact rather than scattered all over the perceptual space is in part a consequence of their spatial coherence. That is, all sub-parts of a prototype noun entity tend to occupy contiguous space. Thus, while scattered nouns do exist (‘the celebration’, ‘Tuesday’, ‘the rain’), they tend to be non-prototypical in other ways as well, i.e. abstract, mass, or temporally non-durable.

•


Countability One important consequence of prototype nouns being compact, is that they also tend to be relatively small, thus figures occupying a small portion of the total perceptual field or ground. This is how they stand out vis-a-vis their ground. Several like noun entities may thus occupy a portion of the field, with the consequence that prototype nouns tend to be countable, as against non-prototypical mass nouns (‘rain’, ‘love’, ‘water’, ‘sand’, ‘freedom’).

51

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Syntax

2.3.3.2
Verbs

•


Temporal instability Prototype verbs occupy the other end of the time-stability scale. They are coherent bundles of experience of relatively short duration. Prototype verbs code rapid changes in either the state, condition or spatial location of some noun-coded entity — ‘shoot’, ‘kick’, ‘break’, ‘jump’, ‘leave’, ‘drop’, etc. As elsewhere, a certain range of variation is observed in this category as well, so that some verbs are less prototypical, and may code events of longer duration — ‘work’, ‘read’, ‘walk’, ‘depreciate’, ‘cool off’, etc. Other verbs, less prototypical yet, may even code longerenduring states, such as ‘dream’, ‘sleep’, ‘sit’, ‘love’, ‘know’, ‘want’, ‘regret’, ‘mourn’, etc.

•


Temporal compactness While the prototype noun is spatially compact but temporally durable, the prototype verb is just the opposite — temporally compact but spatially more diffuse. The temporal compactness of verbs is but another way of acknowledging their low temporal stability.

•


Concreteness The experiential phenomena typically bundled as verbs are most typically events that involve concrete participant nouns. The verbs then code either the physical action, or physical change, or spatial motion of those participants. But this is again a matter of degree. Thus, ‘shoot’, ‘kick’, ‘break’ or ‘run’ are fairly concrete. But the less-prototypical ‘listen’ codes an invisible mental event, with no discernible action. And the even less prototypical ‘depreciate’, ‘elapse’, ‘mean’ or ‘equal’ are even less concrete, involving abstract notions, conventions or inferences.

•


Complexity and spatial diffuseness While not quite as multi-featured as nouns, prototype verbs often exhibit considerable complexity. This is due to in part the fact that prototypical events or actions may involve several distinct participants. Thus, for example, a typical event of ‘giving’ involves a giver (agent), a gift (patient) and a recipient (dative), all distributed over space and each an individuated, spatially compact, temporally durable entity in its own right. Many verbs also have complex temporally-sequenced sub-components, as in, for example, ‘build’, ‘cook’, ‘compose’, ‘carve’, ‘draw’, ‘hunt’ etc. But here again one may find gradation, so that some verbs are less temporally complex, involving only a single feature of change, as in ‘cool off’, ‘elongate’, ‘fall’, ‘wake up`’, etc.
Agentiveness and mental activity • Many prototype verbs code actions, i.e. events initiated deliberately by a human or animate agent capable of volition. Such verbs are, for example, ‘talk’, ‘leave’, ‘walk’, ‘attack’, ‘explain’, ‘argue’, etc. Other verbs may involve no action, but some conscious mental activity, as in ‘want’, ‘know’, ‘understand’, ‘think’, ‘regret’, ‘dream’, etc. Such verbs often denote the mental states of a human or animate participant, but neither change nor volition nor action. Finally, some verbs code events or state that involve neither action nor metal activity, as in ‘fall’, ‘heat up’, ‘deteriorate’, ‘dry up’, ‘break down’, ‘elapse’, ‘be’, etc.

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2.3.3.3
Adjectives While prototype nouns code bundles of experienced features (‘horse’, ‘chair’, ‘woman’, ‘tree’), the cognitive status of adjectives is a bit more murky. In some respects, adjectives echo one feature of the verbs: the fact that a verb-coded event (‘break’, ‘walk’, ‘talk to’, ‘give’, etc.) cannot be experienced — makes no sense — independently of its noun-coded participants. In a somewhat similar vein, prototype adjectives are not experienced directly qua adjectives. They are, rather, single properties of prototype noun entities, analytically abstracted from those more complex bundles of experience. This facet of adjectives was alluded to, albeit obliquely, in the passage from Russell (1956) cited in Chapter 1: “…The universal whiteness is a concept, whereas a particular white patch is a percept…. Such general qualities as whiteness never exist in time, whereas the things that do exist in time are all particular [percept]s…” (Russell, Relations of universals & particulars; reprinted in Russell 1956, p. 122)

If one translates Russell’s ‘percept’ into ‘experience’, then it may be said that ‘white’ is only experienced directly when it is bundled coherently, together with all other properties, into a noun-coded white entity, such as ‘horse’, ‘wall’, ‘egg’, ‘cloud’, ‘snow’, etc. From this central fact about adjectives follow most of their other major semantic properties.

•


Temporal stability Many languages do not code durable single properties of nouns as adjectives, but rather as verbs (see examples further below) and occasionally even nouns. But as Dixon (1982) has noted, if a language has the lexical category adjective at all, it tends to include at least the most durable physical properties of prototype nouns: size, shape, color, consistency, texture, weight, smell, taste. This supports our view (and Bertrand Russell’s) that prototype adjectival concepts are abstracted from the direct experience of prototype noun-coded entities. It also explains why prototype adjectives occupy the same extreme time-stable end of our temporal stability scale as prototype nouns. Still, the fact that adjectives code only single features of experienced nouns also makes them, at least potentially, less time-stable: A change in this single feature changes the whole nature of the adjective. Less-prototypical adjectives may code inherent, possibly durable but non-physical states or character traits, such as ‘good’, ‘bad’, ‘brave’, ‘cowardly’, ‘helpful’, ‘impetuous’, ‘contemplative’, ‘thoughtful’, ‘conservative’, etc. The fact that these states are mental or evaluative rather than physical presumably contributes to making them not quite as durable. Likewise, less-prototypical adjectives may also code temporary states, such as temperature (‘hot’, ‘cold’), feelings (‘happy’, ‘sad’, ‘angry’, ‘cheerful’, ‘attentive’, ‘distracted’, etc.), health (‘well’, ‘sick’) or social states (‘busy’, ‘idle’, ‘unavailable’, etc.).

•


Simplicity As noted above, even the most prototypical adjectives are single-feature concepts, abstracted out of more complex bundles of experience. This fact accounts, at least in part, for their lower time-stability, as compared with prototype nouns.

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Concreteness • The most prototypical, time-stable adjectives denote durable physical properties of concrete nouns. However, their single-feature status, i.e. their simplicity, already makes them more abstract.

•


Inherentness Since the perceptible physical properties of nouns tend to be their most time-stable features, we tend to also consider them inherent noun properties. To some extent, this carries over into non-physical adjectives, particularly those that code evaluative judgements of character traits, such as ‘good’, ‘bad’, ‘brave’, ‘thoughtful’, ‘nice’, ‘mean’, etc. By analogy with the prototype physical adjectives, these too tend to be considered inherent to the human (or animate) personality. The cultural ontology implicit here is that character traits, like physical traits, are largely fixed for the duration of one’s life. Our scale of temporal stability may be summarized as follows (Givón 1979a: Ch. 8; Pustet, in preparation): (7) The scale of temporal stability most stable.............................................................................. least stable tree,

green

sad, know

work

shoot

noun

adj

adj verb

verb

verb

In the bulk of the chapter, below, the four main lexical classes will be treated in more detail. 2.3.4

Morphotactics: Affixes, clitics and inflections As noted above (§2.3.1), by morphological characterization of a word-type we mean the types of bound morphemes that typically cluster around it as inflections, affixes, or clitics. These morphemes may be either grammatical or derivational, and may either precede their stem (prefix) or follow it (suffix). The difference between inflection, affix and clitic is essentially diachronic, having to do with the age of the morpheme. The first formal stage in the rise of a morpheme out of a lexical word is that of cliticization, whereby the new morpheme is de-stressed and attached to an adjacent lexical word within the construction where it arises (see Heine et al. 1991; Hopper and Traugott 1993; Givón 1971a, 1999). English articles and prepositions are good examples of this, appearing in the noun phrase as prefixal clitics (proclitics): (8) Proclitic articles in the noun phrase a. a-child (to the head noun) b. the-small child (to an adjective) c. a-rather small child (to an adverb) d. the-three children (to a numeral)

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(9) Proclitic prepositions in the noun phrase a. to-children (to the head noun) b. with-small children (to an adjective) c. by-rather small children (to an adverb) d. from-three children (to a numeral) e. for-Joe’s children (to a possessor) f. on-the-children (to an article) As an example of suffixal clitics, consider Ute, where subject and object pronouns become post-clitics to the first word in the clause (Givón 1980): (10) a. paxha-ux-kway-’u kill-asp-perf-him/her ‘s/he killed it/him/her’ b. sivaatuchi-’u paxa-ux-kwa goat/obj-s/he kill-asp-perf ‘s/he killed the goat’ c. wiitu =s-’ura-’u paxa-ux-kwa past-top-him/her kill-asp-perf ‘long ago she killed it/him/her’ d. ta’wach-’ura-’u sivaatuchi paxa-ux-kwa man-top-s/he goat/obj kill-asp-perf ‘the man (is the one who) killed the goat’

(verb clitic)

(object clitic)

(adverb clitic)

(subject clitic)

In the early stages of grammaticalization, the morphemic slot of the new morphemes is defined in terms of the construction (phrase, clause) within which it arises. After a while, a clitic may change into an affix — prefix or suffix. This occurs when its location has ceased to be defined in terms of a construction, and has stabilized onto a particular word-type (noun, verb, adjective, adverb). And, moreover, it now appears in a fixed order with other morphemes attached to that word (see Bybee 1985). An inflection, finally, is a phonologically-degraded former affix that has fused with its carrier stem, or with other affixes on the stem, to the point where it is impossible to draw their exact boundary.

2.4

Nouns

2.4.1

Semantic characterization The most general semantic features of nouns have already been noted above. In addition, some of the major classificatory semantic features of nouns yield a hierarchy of increasing markedness, which may be represented as in (11) below.

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Syntax

(11) Markedness hierarchy of major semantic features of nouns entity (noun) abstract

temporal non-spatial

spatial (concrete) inanimate

animate non-human

human female

male

The markedness feature of the hierarchy (11) is evident in the validity of the chain of oneway conditional implications (‘if…then…’) given in (12) below: (12) female … human … animate … spatial … temporal … entity That is, if an entity is female, it must also be human; if human, it must also be animate; if animate, it must also be spatial (concrete); etc. But not necessarily vice versa.

•


Concreteness As can be seen from (11) and (12) above, the feature concrete can be re-analyzed with more precision as two hierarchic features, temporality and spatiality. Abstract entities such as ‘freedom’, ‘dignity’, ‘size’, ‘whiteness’, ‘goodness’, ‘refusal’, etc. exist neither in time nor in space. Temporal entities such as ‘July’, ‘day’, ‘Sunday’, ‘anniversary’, etc. exist in time but not in space. While fully concrete entities such as ‘knife’, ‘tree’, ‘woman’, ‘house’, ‘hill’, ‘sun’ etc. exist in both space and time. The markedness hierarchy is again evident in the fact that entities that exist in space must also exist in time. Put another way, time is a more general feature than space.

•


Animacy, humanity and gender As noted above, animacy and/or humanity are further specifications of concreteness. That is, concrete nouns may be also animate; if not, they are considered by default as inanimate. In most languages, the classificatory boundary animate vs. inanimate or human vs. non-human has huge grammatical consequences. First, in terms of what predicates (verbs, adjectives) can go with what subject or object nouns. As an illustration, consider the restrictions that render (13b,d,f ) below odd: (13) a. b. c. d. e. f.

The happy woman *The happy tree The woman solved the equation *The dog solved the equation He hurt the dog *He hurt the rock

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57

Second, in terms of the use of the appropriate corresponding pronoun. Thus in English, the major pronominal division is between human (male or female) and non-human: (14) a. She saw the man and he… b. She saw the girl and she… c. She saw the cow/dog/cat and it… In Ute (Uto-Aztecan), on the other hand, the major pronominal division is between animate (including human), as in (15a–c) and inanimate (15d), with no gender distinction for animates (Givón 1980): (15) a. ta’wachi pu =nikya-pu =ga, tata’a-pu =gay-’u man see-past kick-past-him/her ‘(s/he) saw the man, and kicked him’ b. mamachi pu =nikya-pu =ga, tata’a-pu =gay-’u woman see-past kick-past-him/her ‘(s/he) saw the woman, and kicked her’ c. sarichi pu =nikya-pu =ga, tata’a-pu =gay-’u dog see-past kick-past-him/her ‘(s/he) saw the dog, and kicked it’ d. tu =pu =ychi pu =nikya-pu =ga, tata’a-pu =gay-ax rock see-past kick-past-it ‘(s/he) saw the rock, and kicked it’

•


Artifactness Inanimate nouns can be further divided into either natural entities (‘grass’, ‘tree’, ‘hill’, ‘rock’, ‘water’, etc.) vs. human-made artifacts (‘house’, ‘rope’, ‘knife’, ‘car’, ‘computer’, etc.).

•


Countability or individuation Both concrete and abstract nouns may be either count nouns, i.e. individuated entities, or mass nouns, i.e. groups of individuals or indivisible masses. Thus compare: (16) a. Count Concrete: man, stone, horse, grain, drop, ounce Abstract: right, love, appearance, affair b. Mass Concrete: sand, water, blood, air Abstract: right, love, appearance, control Some nouns, particularly abstract ones as in (16), may have either a count or a mass sense. That is:

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Syntax

(17) a. Count This is one right you cannot take away. She was an old love of his. He made an appearance. We instituted a number of controls. b. Mass He’s here by right. She’s full of love. For the sake of appearance. We lost control over the situation. The difference between count and mass nouns has strong consequences in two major grammatical areas. First, in the use of appropriate quantifiers: (18) a. b. c. d. e. f. g.

Give me one book Give me many books *Give me many book *Give me much book(s) Give me much water *Give me one water *Give me many water

(count, sg) (count, pl) (count, sg) (count, sg/pl) (mass) (mass) (mass)

Second, in the use of the appropriate pronouns: (19) a. She read the book and liked it/*them b. She read the books and liked them/*it c. She read some poetry and liked it/*them Third, in the use of other modifiers that must agree with the number feature of the noun they modify: (20) a. b. c. d. e. f.

this book these books that horse those horses this water *these water


Generality and reference • Nouns (‘common nouns’) do not refer to individual entities (‘tokens’), but only connote classes (‘types’) of entities. Names (‘proper nouns’), on the other hand, refer to individual entities (or specific groups). Thus, compare the type-coding nouns in (21a) with the corresponding token-coding names in (21b): (21) a. Nouns man, state, month, holiday, sword, horse, theory

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b. Names John, Oregon, July, Halloween, Excalibur, Rosinante, The University of Oregon, The Theory of Relativity

•


Size, shape and manipulability Many languages may have further noun classification based on the size, shape and manipulability of concrete objects. Object can be classified as, for example ‘small and/or round’, ‘long & rigid’, ‘slender & flexible’, ‘heaped mass’, ‘spreadable/flat sheet’, ‘brittle/ breakable’, ‘soft/malleable’, etc. Such classifications are often based on the use or manipulation of objects by the human hand. For much language-specific detail, see Craig (ed. 1986b), as well as discussion in §2.3.4.1 below.

•


Cultural classifications In addition to gender, human nouns may also be classified by socio-cultural features, such as age, profession, social standing, religious status, kinship and more. For much languagespecific detail, see again Craig (ed. 1986b), as well as further discussion in §2.4.3.1 below. 2.4.2 Syntactic characteristics By syntactic characteristics of nouns one means two related combinatorial properties: role (case-role) in the clause (Chapters 4, 5); •
grammatical •
syntactic role in the noun phrase (Chapter 11). Nouns most typically to assume the clausal grammatical role of subject, direct object, indirect object or predicate noun, as in: (22)

a. Subject, direct object or indirect object The woman gave the book to the child (Subj) (D-Obj) (I-Obj) The boy cut the meat with a knife (Subj) (D-Obj) (I-Obj) b. Predicate noun This is a desk (Pred)

Technically speaking, it is not the noun but rather the noun phrase that assumes the various grammatical roles in (22). However, within the noun phrase, a noun is typically the syntactic and semantic head, defining the type of entity involved. All other elements in the noun phrase are modifiers of that head noun (Chapter 11). Thus in examples (23) below, the head noun child is accompanied by different modifiers: (23) a. Modified by an article the child b. Modified by an adjective the big child

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Syntax

c. Modified by a Rel-clause the child I saw yesterday d. Modified by a numeral and a pluralizer three child-ren e. Modified by a possessor Joe’s child the child-ren of Sanchez Lastly, a noun could itself be the modifier of another head noun within the noun phrase, as in: (24) Modifier noun a. the delivery truck b. a dog-house c. trout-fishing 2.4.3

Morphological characteristics 2.4.3.1
Grammatical morphology a.

Class or gender markers Most commonly, noun classifying morphology begins its life as a relatively coherent system of semantic classification. Over time, however, it may gradually restructure and modify itself, eventually loosing much of its early semantic coherence. Many classification systems have thus become a mere structural, seemingly arbitrary feature of synchronic grammar, with few semantic correlates. As an example of a diachronically-early classifier system, consider Jacaltec (Mayan), where the historical source of many of the classifiers as erstwhile nouns is often still transparent. The Jacaltec system conflates two distinct principles of classification: Social interaction (for humans), and physical properties and/or use (for non-humans). Some of the more common classifiers in this system are (Craig 1986a):

The lexicon

(25)

61

Social interaction

Physical/Use

morpheme

value

morpheme

value

cumam cumi7 ya7 naj ix ho7 xo7 unin

‘male deity’ ‘female deity’ ‘respected human’ ‘male non-kin’ ‘female non-kin’ ‘male kin’ ‘female kin’ ‘infant’

no7 metex’ te7 ixim tx’al k’ap tx’otx’ ch’en atz’am ha7 k’a7

‘animal’ ‘dog’ ‘plant’ ‘corn’ ‘thread’ ‘cloth’ ‘soil/dirt’ ‘rock’ ‘salt’ ‘water`’ ‘fire’

Syntactically, Jacaltec classifiers also serve as pronouns and articles, and are still noun–phrase clitics. Thus (Craig 1986a): (26) a. xul naj-Pel b’oj ya7-Malin came cl-Peter with cl-Mary ‘Peter came with Mary’ b. caj te7 tahnaj ixpix red cl ripe tomato ‘the tomato is ripe’ c. xil naj-Xuwan no7-lab’a saw cl-John cl-snake ‘John saw the snake’ d. xil naj no7 saw cl/he cl/it ‘he (John) saw it (snake)’ e. xtxoñ ix-ix ixim-b’itx sold cl-girl cl-tamales ther girl sold the tamales’ f. xtxoñ ix ixim sold cl/she cl/it ‘she (girl) sold them (tamales)’ Consider next the noun-class system of Bantu languages, where each class has a pair of obligatory noun-prefixes, singular and plural. The system has undergone extensive semantic reanalysis, to the point of near semantic arbitrariness. Syntactically, however, it is extremely viable, with essentially the same prefixes or their reflexes being used extensively as pronoun or agreement morphemes (see Chapter 9). An older, semantically coherent system has been reconstructed, one that apparently predates many of the singular-plural pairings (Givón 1970; Denny and Creider 1986). As an illustration, consider the Bemba system (Givón 1972):

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Syntax

(27)

semantic value

class

singular

plural

current

earlier

1/2 3/4 5/6

umu-ana ‘child’ umu-ti ‘tree’ ili-bwe ‘stone’ ame-enshi ‘water’ ici-ti ‘stick’ in-koko ‘chicken’ ulu-imbi ‘song’ aka-nwa ‘mouth’ ubu-ushi ‘honey’ uku-twi ‘ear’ uku-imba ‘to sing’

aba-ana imi-ti ama-bwe

human / /

ifi-ti in-koko iny-imbi utu-nwa / ama-twi /

/ / / dimin. abstract / infinitive

?? long/plants round/fruits liquids artifacts animates extended small/round solid mass paired body-parts mass (?)

7/8 9/10 11/10 12/13 14 15/16

Another historically much-restructured and reduced noun classification is found in Semitic languages, where the noun-suffixal system again conflates class and number, as in Hebrew: (28) class masculine feminine

singular

plural

yeled ‘boy’ sefer yald-a ‘girl’ erets ‘country’

yelad-im sfar-im yelad-ot arats-ot

(animate) (inanimate) (animate) (inanimate)

The masculine-feminine gender distinction of Semitic is semantically relevant only to animates. A broadly similar system is found in Romance languages. Another historically much-restructured classification system is found in Eastern Nilotic languages, where a more extensive earlier system has been collapsed into a threegender system, again conflated with number. While the current three-way classification is prefixal, a large number of surviving suffixes hint at a more extensive older system. Thus, from Toposa (Angelo Lovale Lokoro Loirria, in personal communication): (29) class masculine feminine neuter/small

singular

plural

nye-mong ‘ox’ nye-mukur-a ‘hill’ nya-beru ‘woman’ nya-kalup-ot ‘grain’ nyi-toon ‘person’ nyi-bore ‘thing’

]i-mong-in ‘oxen’ ]i-mukur ‘hills’ ]a-berr(u) ‘women’ ]a-kalup ‘grains’ ]i-tung-a ‘persons’ ]i-bore-kei ‘things’

A very common classifier system is associated with numerals and quantifiers within the noun phrase. It is wide-spread in Asia and the Pacific, as in Mandarin (Erbaugh 1986), Japanese (Downing 1986), Thai (Delancey 1986) and Austronesian. Semantically, such systems often arise to classify the shape, size or manipulability of usable hand-held objects.

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Over a long history, they are commonly extended and modified to yield less-than-coherent classes. As an illustration, consider Japanese (Downing 1986): (30) a. mukasi-mukasi soki-ni i-hitori-no ryooshi-ga arimashita long.ago there-loc 1/person-gen fisherman-subj was ‘long ago there was one fisherman (who) lived there’ b. mizu-wa ni-hon-no kiri-ni natte water-top 2-long.thin-gen midst-dat become ‘the water became two streams of mist’ c. ume i-ppon ‘one plum branch/tree’ plum 1-long.thin d. ume i-kko ‘one plum’ plum 1-small.round e. ume iti-rin ‘one plum bossom’ plum 1-flower As Downing (1986) notes, such classifiers are extensively used as anaphoric pronouns, as in: (31) san-nin-ga keidai-ni tuku-to 3-person-subj temple.grounds-loc arrive-sub ‘when the three (of them) arrived at the temple grounds’ In Mandarin Chinese, a similar system has been extended within the noun phrase, so that classifiers are required not only in quantifying phrases, but also with determiners. Thus (Li and Thompson 1981): (32) a. san-ge ren 3-cl person b. wu-jia feiji 5-cl airplane c. yi-ben shu 1-cl book d. ji-jian yifu quant-cl garment e. zheng-ge fangzi whole-cl house f. zhei-zhan deng this-cl lamp g. nei-men pao that-cl cannon

‘three people’ ‘five airplanes’ ‘one book’ ‘how many garments?’ ‘a whole house’ ‘this lamp’ ‘that cannon’

b.

Number We already noted above how in Bantu, Semitic, Nilotic and Romance languages the marking of number is conflated with the noun-classifying morphology. But number morphemes can also be specifically dedicated. Most commonly, the unmarked stem codes the singular, and the morphologically-marked form codes the plural (or dual), as in English:

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(33) girl-s book-s church-es child-ren ox-en In some languages, only animate nouns can be marked for plurality, while plural inanimates share the same form as the singular. As an example, consider Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (34) sarich(i) tuach(i) toghoav(i) kan(i) wiich(i)

‘dog’ ‘child’ ‘snake’ ‘house’, ‘houses’ ‘knife’, ‘knives’

sarichi-u tuachi-u toghoavi-u

‘dogs’ ‘children’ ‘snakes’

The less-marked status of the singular is further illustrated by the fact that in some languages, nouns are pluralized by reduplicating either the whole singular stem or one of its syllables. In Ute, where this must have been the older pluralization pattern, some animate nouns still display first-syllable reduplication (or its historical residue, stressshifting to the left) alongside with the currently more regular suffixation (Givón 1980): (35) ta’wách(i) mamách(i) nanápu =ch(i) n’achich(i)

‘man’ ‘woman’ ‘old man’ ‘girl’

táa-ta’wachi-u ‘men’ máa-m(a)chi-u ‘women’ náa-n(a)pu =chi-u ‘old men’ náa-n(a)’(a)chichi-u

Nouns such as those in (35), admittedly a small minority, also allow a dual vs. plural distinction to be made, where the current plural suffix by itself marks the dual, but in combination with reduplication then yields the plural: (36) a. suwiini mamách(i) ‘one woman’ b. wayini mamachi-u ‘two women’ c. payini máa-m(a)chi-u ‘three women’ A plausible historical conjecture here is that the current plural suffix was originally a dual marker, eventually replacing the older, decaying pluralization process of first-syllable reduplication. A similar situation can be shown in Hebrew, where the old dual suffix -im, still found in inherently-dual noun (as well as, more intact, in Arabic), eventually became the masculine-plural suffix. Thus compare the inherently dual (37a–f) with the plurals (37g–i): (37) a. b. c. d. e. f. g.

’ayn yad regel shanpa’am ’ofan sefer

‘eye’ ‘hand’ ‘foot’ *‘repeat’ ‘once’ ‘wheel’ ‘book’

’eyn-ayim yad-ayim ragl-ayim shn-ayim pa’am-ayim ’ofan-ayim sfar-im

‘eyes’ ‘hands’ ‘feet’ ‘two’ ‘twice’ ‘bicycle’ ‘books’

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h. bayit i. yeled

‘house’ ‘boy’

bat-im yelad-im

‘houses’ ‘boys’

c.

Articles Definite and indefinite articles, or reference markers (Chapter 10), often become noun phrase clitics, although their morphemic status may be obscured by the writing system (as in English, German, Spanish, etc). Given the appropriate syntactic configuration, articles can also become noun affixes or even inflections. As an illustration, consider the definite prefix and indefinite suffix in Modern Hebrew: (38) a. Non-referring indefinite: b. Referring indefinite: c. Referring definite:

sefer ‘book’ sefer-xad ‘a book’ ha-sefer ‘the book’

In Bemba (Bantu), the noun prefix, in addition to class and number, also functions as an article. It does not, however, code the distinction between definite and indefinite, but rather of referring vs. non-referring (Chapter 10). Thus, consider (Givón 1972): (39) a. Referring (definite or indefinite) n-dee-fwaaya ici-tabo I-pres-want ref-book ‘I want the a/the book’ (a particular one) b. Non-referring (indefinite) n-dee-fwaaya ci-tabo I-pres-want n/ref-book ‘I want a/some book’ (not any particular one) d.

Case-role markers Morphologically-marked case may pertain to either semantic roles (agent, patient, recipient, instrument, location etc.) or grammatical roles (subject, direct object, indirect object), a distinction that will be made more precise in Chapters 3 and 4. English prepositions, for example, can mark a wide range of semantic roles, but only of the syntactic indirect objects: (40) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l. m.

She stayed in the house He went to the store They are at school It was under one roof She lives near the corner He did it for Mary They rested for a while She left on Tuesday It happened during the day He broke it with a hammer Do it with patience She came with her brother It was done by mistake

(location) (direction) (location) (location) (location) (beneficiary) (duration) (time) (time) (instrument) (manner) (associate) (manner)

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n. She fights like a tiger o. He was nabbed by the FBI

(manner) (agent)

In other languages, case-markers can also mark the grammatical roles of subject and direct object, as in the case-marking post positions of Japanese (Katsue Akiba, in personal communication): (41) otoko-ga onna-ni tegami-o kaita man-subj woman-dat letter-acc wrote ‘the man wrote a letter to the woman’ Just as transparent a prefixal case-marking morphology is found in Bikol (Philippine), as in (Manuel Factora, in personal communication): (42) nag-ta’o ’ang-babaye ning-libro sa-lalake act-give subj-woman acc-book dat-man ‘The man gave a book to the woman’ As noted earlier above, case markers can over time fuse into the stem to become inflections, often conflated — as portmanteau morphemes — with other nominal inflections such as class/gender, number or articles. As an example, consider the nominal so-called declensions of Classical Greek (White 1896): (43) singular subject (nom) object (acc) recipient (dat) possessor (gen) plural subject (nom) object (acc) recipient (dat) possessor (gen)

first masc. declension tamí-as ‘steward’ tamí-an ‘steward’ tamí-a¸ ‘to a steward’ tamí-ou ‘of a steward’

first fem. declension xóra ‘land’ xóra-n ‘land’ xóra¸ ‘to a land’ xóra-s ‘of a land’

tamí-ai tamí-as tamí-ais tamí-ôn

xôra-i xóra-s xóra-is xor-ôn

‘stewards’ ‘stewards’ ‘to stewards’ ‘of stewards’

‘lands’ ‘lands’ ‘to lands’ ‘of lands’

e.

Possessor pronouns Possessor pronouns commonly cliticize as noun–phrase clitics and eventually also noun affixes. As an example of possessor suffixes, consider Biblical Hebrew (Weingreen 1959): (44) báyit bet-í bet-xá bet-éx bet-ó bet-á

‘house’ ‘my house’ ‘your (masc) house’ ‘you (fem) house’ ‘his house’ ‘her house’

bet-énu bet-xém bet-xén bet-ám bet-án

‘our house’ ‘your (masc.pl) house’ ‘your (fem.pl) house’ ‘their (masc) house’ ‘their (fem) house’

As an example of possessor prefixes, consider Toposa (Nilotic), where these are sandwiched between the class-and-number prefixes and the noun stem (Angelo Lovale Lokoro Loirria, in personal communication):

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(45) nye-mong nye-qaa-mong nye-qoni¸-mong nye-qee-mong

‘ox’ ‘my ox’ ‘you ox’ ‘his/her ox’

nye-yoq-mong nye-qosi-mong nye-kus-mong nye-kech-mong

‘our (excl) ox’ ‘our (incl) ox’ ‘your (pl) ox’ ‘their ox’

2.4.3.2
Derivational morphology While grammatical morphology is more central to this book, derivational morphology is just as useful as a morphological criterion for word-class membership. Most commonly, lexical derivation — with or without an attendant morphology — changes the semantic class of a lexical word, either in terms of its membership in a major class (noun, verb, adjective, adverb), or in terms of more minor sub-classification. We may thus characterize derivational morphemes as semantic classifiers, each defined by the input and output to the derivation: the word-class to which the derivation applies; •
Input:
Output: the word-class resulting from the derivation. • As a criterion for lexical-class membership, of course, only the derivation’s output is counted. English may serve as a good example here, since it has a rich array of morphologicallymarked noun derivations. Some of those change verbs into nouns, others change adjectives into nouns, while others yet change one type of noun into another. The complex restrictions on the applicability of particular derivations to particular classes or sub-classes of input words are in part semantic, in part historical, and in part idiosyncratic and wordspecific. The treatment here is merely illustrative, and for a more extensive discussion, see Marchand (1965). (46) Verb-to-noun derivations (nominalizations) input

output

derive drive govern write remove know interfere deliver conform

deriv-ation driv-er govern-or writ-ing remov-al know-ledge interfer-ence deliver-y conform-ity

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(47) Adjective-to-noun derivations input

output

kind wide serene

kind-ness wid-th seren-ity

(48) Noun-to-noun derivations input king governor president child *foli(um) anarchy

output king-dom governor-ship presiden-cy child-hood foli-age anarch-ist

An intermediate case of derivation, indeed its historical precursor, is compounding, where a noun, a verb, or an adjective modifies a noun to form a derived meaning. Nouncompounding arises from particular syntactic constructions, most commonly a noun–phrase in which the head noun classifies the compound. Thus, for example, noun–noun compounds arise from modifying nouns preceding a head noun, as in: (49) Noun–noun compounds mail-man delivery-truck garbage-collector bird-house ski-lift And adjective–noun compounds arise from modifying adjectives preceding a head noun, as in: (50) Adjective-noun compounds black-bird blue-beard blue-blood red-skin white-head Verb–noun compounds arise from the same pattern as noun–noun, with the verb first having first been derived into noun by nominalization, and then used as a modifying noun, as in: (51) Verb-with-noun-compounding delivery-man race-car

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fishing-boat walking-cane Finally, noun–verb compounds in English arise from verb-phrase nominalizations (Chapter 11). The nominalized verb phrase yields a noun phrase in which the erstwhile verb is the head noun and the erstwhile object noun its modifier, as in: (52) Nominalized object–verb compounds They hunt foxes fi fox-hunt They chase steeples fi steeple-chase he stalks deer fi deer-stalker she commands a company fi company-commander he finds paths fi path-finder

2.5

Verbs

2.5.1

Semantic characterization Beyond the more general features noted in §2.3.3.2 above, the detailed semantic description of verbs will be deferred to Chapter 3. This is so because verbs constitute the semantic core of propositions, thus of clauses. In classifying the propositional-semantics structure of simple clauses, we perforce also classify the main semantic types of verbs.

2.5.2

Syntactic characterization The full syntactic classification of verbs will also be given in Chapter 3. This is so because verbs do not only occupy the semantic core of propositions, but also the syntactic core of clauses. The semantic type of the verb thus dictates, to quite an extent (up to a certain classificatory depth) its syntactic behavior. Clause-types and their characteristic argument structure are thus, to quite an extent, determined by the semantic (thus also syntactic) class of the verb at their core. This is, incidentally, a fair example of form-function isomorphism, one that (as noted in Chapter 1) was tacitly conceded by Chomsky (1965).

2.5.3

Morphological characterization 2.5.3.1
Grammatical morphology Three major grammatical-inflectional systems that most often cluster around the verb (or verb phrase) in simple clauses will be given their own dedicated chapters: aspect and modality (Chapters 6, 7); •
tense, (Chapter 8); •
negation
pronouns and agreement (Chapter 9). •

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Other types of verb-clustered grammatical morphology will be covered in considerable detail in the relevant chapters of Volume II, where complex syntactic constructions and their attendant morphology are described. The treatment of the various systems here is thus, of necessity, illustrative. a.

Tense, aspect, modality Tense-aspect-modality morphemes may appear as verb suffixes, as in Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (53) a. b. c. d.

wu == u ka-y wu == u ka-ka wu == u ka-vaani wu == u ka-pu =ga

‘s/he is working’ (progressive/immediate) ‘s/he (has) worked’ (perfect/past) ‘s/he will work’ (future/irrealis) ‘s/he worked long ago’ (remote past)

They may appear as distinct verb prefixes, as in Swahili (Bantu): (54) a. b. c. d. e.

ni-na-soma ni-ta-soma ni-me-soma ni-li-soma n-a-soma

‘I am reading’ (present progressive) ‘I will read’ (future) ‘I have read’ (perfect) ‘I read’ (past) ‘I read’ (habitual)

When the verb inflectional system is older, tense-aspect morphemes may merge into portmanteau morphemes, conflating with other verb-bound inflections. This can be seen in Spanish, where tense-aspect-mood is conflated with subject pronouns/agreement: (55) trabajar-é trabajar-ás trabajar-á trabaj-é trabaj-áste trabaj-ó trabaj-o trabaj-as trabaj-a

‘I will work’ ‘you will work’ ‘s/he will work’ ‘I worked’ ‘you worked’ ‘s/he worked’ ‘I work’ ‘you work’ ‘s/he works’

Diachronically older yet tense-aspect morphemes, nearing their final decay, may appear as stem-internal vowel changes, as in Germanic languages such as English: (56) sit/sat ride/rode/ridden sing/sang/sung see/saw/seen In a similar vein, decayed tense-aspect-modal morphology may also appear as a combination of vowel changes and consonant syncopation, as in the consonantal verb-root of Semitic languages, such as Hebrew, where this system also interacts with the subject pronouns:

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(57) a. b. c. c. e.

’oved ’avad ’avd-a ya-’avod ya-’avd-u

‘(s/he is) working/works’ (imperfective) ‘he worked’ (perfect/past, 3sg.masc) ‘she worked’ (perfect/past, 3sg.fem) ‘he will work (future, 3sg.masc) ‘they will work’ (future, 3pl.masc)

At the other end of the diachronic continuum, the early rise of tense-aspect-modal systems, they may appear as auxiliary verbs, still displaying many morphemic and syntactic characteristics of their source verbs. Quite often, however, one may already consider them verb (or verb-phrase) clitics, since they are de-stressed and adjacent to the verb (Givón 1999). In their capacity as auxiliaries, tense-aspect-modal markers often share their functional load with the older inflectional system, as in English: (58) a. She c-ould have be-en do-ing it modal-past perf prog-perf v-prog b. She ha-d do-ne it perf-past v-perf c. She was do-ing it prog/past v-prog d. She did it v/past The more recently added modal (‘can’), perfect (‘have’) and progressive (‘be’) auxiliaries still co-exist, in a complex and not-always-tidy system, with the old suffixal marking system of tense, perfect and progressive. The first element in the verb phrase, be it an auxiliary (58a–c) or the main verb (58d), receives the finite tense marking.3 b.

Negation Negation-marking morphemes cliticize to the verb or verb phrase, often in the same complex as tense-aspect-modality. The may appear as verb prefixes, as in Bemba (Bantu; Givón 1972): (59) a. Affirmative ba-à-boomb-ele they-past-work-asp b. Negative ta-ba-à-boomb-ele neg-they-past-work-asp

‘they worked’

‘they didn’t work’

They may also appear as verb suffixes, as in Japanese (Yuko Yanagida, in personal communication): (60) a. Affirmative bin-o Kowasai-dalo bottle-acc break-fut

‘(s/he) will break the bottle’

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b. Negative bin-o kowasa-nai-dalo bottle-acc break-neg-fut

‘(s/he) won’t break the bottle’

Occasionally one may find double negation, as in Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (61) a. Affirmative wu == u ka-y work-imm

‘(s/he) is working’

b. Negative ka-wu == u ka-wa-y neg-work-neg-imm

‘(s/he) isn’t working’

Older negative inflections often fuse with other verbal affixes into joint portmanteau morphemes. This may be seen in Ute with the negative suffixes for the perfect and remotepast aspects, as in (Givón 1980): (62) a. wu == u ka-ka work-perf b. ka-wu == u ka-na neg-work-perf/neg c. wu == u ka-pu =ga work-rem d. ka-wu == u ka-pu =a neg-work-rem/neg

‘(s/he) has worked’ ‘(s/he) hasn’t worked’ ‘(s/he) worked’ ‘(s/he) didn’t work’

A negative marker may also fuse with pronominal inflections, as in the case with the Swahili (Bantu) first person singular subject pronoun: (63) a. ni-ta-soma I-fut-read b. si-ta-soma neg/I-fut-read

‘I will read’ ‘I won’t read’

Finally, more recently-grammaticalized negative markers may appear as verb-phrase clitics, as is the case in Spanish, where the negation marker attaches to the first element of the verb phrase, or in English, where they are suffixes of the first verbal element in the verb phrase. Thus compare: (64) a. no pod-ía hacer-lo neg can-past/imperf/3sg do-it ‘s/he could-n’t to do it’ b. no lo-pod-ía hacer neg it-can-past/imperf/3sg do ‘s/he could-n’t to do it’ c. no há trabaj-ado neg have work-perf ‘s/he has-n’t worked’

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d. no está trabaj-ando neg be/3sg work-prog ‘s/he is-n’t working’ e. no est-aba allá neg be-past/imperf/3sg there ‘s/he was-n’t there’ c.

Subject and object pronouns (verb agreement) Pronominal verb affixes will be covered in considerable detail in Chapter 9. Subject and object pronominal affixes are some of the most salient members of the verb’s inflectional paradigm. Thus, verbs are traditionally said to ‘agree with their subject’ or, less often, ‘agree with their object’. Verb-affixed pronouns may be prefixal, as in Swahili (Bantu): (65) Subject pronoun/agreement ni-li-soma ‘I read’ I-past-read u-li-soma ‘you read’ you-past-read a-li-soma ‘s/he read’ s/he-past-read

tu-li-soma we-past-read m-li-soma you/pl-past-read wa-li-soma they-past-read

‘we read’ ‘y’all read’ ‘they read’

(66) Object pronouns/agreement wa-li-ni-ona ‘they saw me’ they-past-me-see wa-li-ku-ona ‘they saw you they-past-you-see wa-li-mu-ona ‘the saw him/her’ they-past-him/her-see wa-li-tu-ona ‘they saw us’ they-past-us-see wa-li-wa-ona ‘they saw them’ they-past-them-see They may also be suffixal or even mixed, as in Hebrew, where an aspect-determined split can be seen. In the Perfect/Past verbal paradigm of Biblical Hebrew, both subject and object pronouns are suffixal (Weingreen 1959): (67) a. r’i-ti-hu ‘I saw him’ see/past-I-him b. ra’/a-ni ‘he saw me’ see/past/he-me c. ra’a-ta-nu ‘she saw us’ see/past-she-us d. ra’-u-xa ‘they saw you (sg.masc)’ see/past-they-you

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In the preterit/future paradigm, however, subject pronouns are mostly prefixal, while the object pronouns remain suffixal: (68) a. ’e-r’e-hu ‘I will see him’ I-see/fut-him b. yi-r’e-ni ‘he will see me’ he-see/fut-me c. ti-r’e-nu ‘she will see us’ she-see/fut-us d. yi-r’-u-xa ‘they will see you (sg.masc)’ he-see/fut-pl-you d.

Non-pronominal verb agreement Occasionally, verb-agreement with some classificatory feature(s) of the subject or object is totally independent of the pronominal system. This is the case with plural subjectagreement in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), where the optional clitic pronouns on the verb may agree with either the subject or the object, but an obligatory verb agreement with the plurality of the subject, via a suffix, represents a much older layer of the verbal morphology. Thus consider (Givón 1980): (69) a. kani pu =nikya-pu =gay-’u house/obj see-rem-s/he ‘s/he saw a house’ b. kani ’uru pu =nikya-pu =gay-ax house/obj that/obj see-rem-it ‘s/he saw the house’ c. kani pu =nikya-xa-pu =ga-am house/obj see-pl-rem-they ‘they saw a house’ d. kani ’uru pu =nikya-xa-pu =gay-ax house/obj that/obj see-pl-rem-it ‘they saw the house’ In Athabaskan languages, suppletive forms of some verbs must be chosen depending on the semantic class of the subject (for an intransitive verb) or object (for a transitive verb). While the diachronic origin of such a system is starkly different from that of pronominal systems, synchronically it does represent a subject-or-object agreement of verbs. Thus, the verb ‘be at’ in Tolowa Athabaskan has multiple stems, depending on the semantic class of the subject. As in (Loren Bommelyn, in personal communication; see also Bommelyn 1997): (70) a. Animate (horizontal) tr’á¸a¸xe hat s-ti¸ woman there asp-be/anim.horiz. ‘the woman is (lying) there’

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b. Animate (vertical) tr’á¸a¸xe hat s-tł-ti¸ woman there asp-l-be/animate ‘the woman is (standing) there’ c. Thin, flat, flexible st’e’ hat s-tł-chu =ms blanket there perf-l-be/flat.flex ‘the blanket is there’ d. Liquid taagha’srna hat s-tRRe water there perf-be/imperf/liquid ‘The water is there’ e. Heaped mass téełi hat s-nu =R snow there perf-be/mass ‘The snow-pile is there’ f.

Long and flexible or strands łts’is hat s-tRResh pants there perf-be/imperf/long.flex. ‘The pants are there’

g. Long and rigid (horizontal) k’wéech’u =tk’asr hat s-ti¸i¸sh corn-ear there perf-be/imperf/long.rigid ‘The corn-ear is (lying) there’ h. Bundled plant matter chaame hat s-sru =’sr herbs there perf-be/plant.bundle ‘The bundled herbs are there’ i.

Single, round and compact xaats’a hat s-’u =sh basket there perf-be/imperf/round.compact ‘The basket is there’

When the very same stems are used in transitive constructions, they agree with — ‘classify’ — their object. Thus compare: (71) a. Animate (horizontal) tr’á¸a¸xe na-y-ti¸ woman loc-tr-be/anim.horiz. ‘(he) has a woman (prone)’

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b. Animate (vertical) tr’á¸a¸xe na-y-tł-ti¸ woman loc-tr-l-be/animate ‘(he) has a woman’ c. Thin, flat and flexible st’e’ na-y-tł-chu =ms blanket loc-tr-l-be/flat.flex ‘(s/he) has a blanket’ d. Liquid taagha’srna na-y-tRRe water loc-tr-be/imperf/liquid ‘(s/he) has water’ e. Heaped mass téełi na-y-nu =R snow loc-tr-be/mass ‘(s/he) has a snow-pile’ f.

Long and flexible or strands łts’is na-y-tRResh pants loc-tr-be/imperf/long.flex. ‘(s/he) has a pair of pants’

g. Long and rigid (horizontal) k’wéech’u =tk’asr na-y-ti¸i¸sh corn-ear loc-tr-be/imperf/long.rigid ‘(s/he) has a corn-ear (lying)’ h. Bundled plant matter chaame na-y-sru =’sr herbs loc-tr-be/plant.bundle ‘(s/he) has a herb-bundle’ i.

Single, round and compact xaats’a na-y-’u =sh basket loc-tr-be/imperf/round.compact ‘(s/he) has basket’

e.

Transitivizing and de-transitive morphology Morphemes that either make a verb (more) transitive (causatives; see Chapter 12) or detransitivize it (Chapter 13) tend to come as verbal morphology. As an illustration, consider Bemba (Bantu), where most such morphemes are suffixal: (72) a. Simple verb a-à-mona ichitabo s/he-past-see book ‘s/he saw a/the book’

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b. Causative a-à-mon-esya umuana icitabo s/he-past-see-caus child book ‘s/he showed the child a/the book’ c. Passive icitabo ci-à-mon-wa (no-omuana) book it-past-see-pass (by-child) ‘the book was seen (by the child)’ d. Middle-voice (stative) icitabo ci-à-mon-eka book it-past-see-stat ‘the book appeared/was visible’ e. Reciprocal ba-à-mon-ana they-past-see-recip ‘they saw each other’ f.

Reflexive a-à-i-mona s/he-past-refl-see ‘s/he saw herself/himself’

f.

Case-marking morphemes As noted earlier above, case-markers most typically become nominal morphology. But on occasion one finds them as verbal affixes, a situation described more extensively in Chapter 4. The dative-benefactive — sometimes also called applicative — is the most common case-marker found on verbs, as in Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (73) a. Simple pattern mamach(i) tuaci magha-pu =ga woman/subj boy/obj feed-rem ‘the woman fed the boy’ b. With an optional beneficiary mamach(i) ta’wachi tuachi magha-ku =-pu =ga woman/subj man/obj boy/obj feed-ben-rem ‘the woman fed the boy for the man’ g.

Definitizing morphemes Articles are also typically nominal morphology, but on occasion they can be stranded on the verb, particularly if they pertain to the object. Thus, in Swahili (Bantu), the object pronoun has become the definite marker for non-human objects, as in: (74) a. Indefinite object a-li-soma kitabu s/he-past-read book

‘s/he read a book’

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b. Anaphoric pronoun a-li-ki-soma s/he-past-it-read

‘s/he read it (the book)’

c. Definite object a-li-ki-soma kitabu s/he-past-it-read book

‘s/he read the book’

h.

Speech-act markers As an illustration, consider Chuave (Papuan; Thurman 1978): (75) a. Declarative guwai-i furuwai bei de-im-ie things-dem scatter do go-they-declar ‘they were scattering those things about’ b. Imperative nuwi ko-ra-ro f-o! water fill-fut-ss go-imp ‘go fill the water-jug!’ c. Interrogative niki-de fi-y-o? bad-like think-I-interrog ‘Am I angry?’ d. Emphatic mora di mari do-pun-ia! enough say tell be/like-we-emph ‘We have told them all!’ e. Uncertain nimi su-wa-m-bo si-ke-na-m-bo fi-ke-y-e… rain hit-3sg/obj-fut-or hit-neg-3sg/obj-fut-or think-neg-I-uncert ‘Whether it will rain or not I don’t know…’ i.

Clausal conjunctions, subordinators and switch-reference markers Conjunctions, subordinators and switch-reference markers often become verbal morphology (or verb-phrase clitics), particularly in subject–object–verb (SOV) languages. Such clause-linking morphology is discussed extensively in Chapter 18. Example (75e) above already illustrates how the disjunction ‘or’, linking two successive clauses, is marked as the verb suffix -bo on both clauses. Further illustrations are again taken from Chuave (Papuan), where all subordinate clauses share one suffix, and are in addition marked as either simultaneous or non-simultaneous with the following (‘main’) clause (Thurman 1978): (76) a. Subordinate, simultaneous ne iki-num moi-n-g-i you house-your be-you-sub-sim ‘while you were at your house’

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b. Subordinate, non-simultaneous kan-i-k-a-i see-I-sub-non.sim-dem ‘after I looked (at it)’ Conjoined clauses in Chuave code events in temporal sequence, and — when they are chain-medial — their verbs are marked with either one of two cataphoric switch-reference suffixes, one signalling subject continuity in the following clause (SS), the other discontinuity (DS) (Thurman 1978): (77) ena tekoi u-i-re, iki moi-i-koro, tekoi uboi-n-goro, then again come-I-ss house be-I-ds again call-he-ds ena tekoi de-i-ie; then again go-I-declar ‘then I came (back here) again, and I stayed at home, then he called me again, and I went (there) again’ j.

Incorporated objects, adverbs and instruments Objects, instruments and adverbs often incorporate into the verbal word, and may in time evolve into verbal inflections or eventually even merge with the verb stem. Typically, the incorporated items are non-referring (see Chapter 10), and may partake in either the antipassive pattern (Chapter 13) or the causative (Chapter 12). Thus, consider the following examples from Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (78) a. Referring object sarichi ‘uway paxa-pu =gay-’u dog/obj that/obj kill-rem-him ‘he killed the dog’ b. Non-referring object (anti-passive) sari-paxa-na-pu =ga dog-kill-hab-rem ‘he used to kill dogs’ c. Referring instrument wiici-m ’uru chu =ku =r’a-pu =gay-ax knife/obj-instr that/obj cut-rem-it ‘he cut it with the knife’ d. Non-referring instrument wii-chu =ku =r’a-na-pu =gay-ax knife-cut-hab-rem-them ‘he used to cut them with a knife’ e. Referring adverbial mamaci-pani ’uway paghay’wa-y woman/obj-like that/obj walk-immed ‘he is walking like that woman’

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f.

Non-referring adverbial mama-paghay’wa-y woman-walk-imm ‘he is walking like a woman’

2.5.3.2
Derivational morphology English may again serve as an illustration here, since English verbs can be derived from nouns, from adjectives or from other verbs. In each case, characteristic derivational morphology may be involved, although some derivations are morphologically unmarked. (79) Adjective to verb input

output

large hard solid little active

enlarge harden solidify belittle activate

(80) Noun to verb input

output

tomb circle theory energy circle vaccine capsule class villain fang bug

entomb encircle theorize energize circulate vaccinate encapsulate classify vilify defang debug

The least constrained noun-to-verb derivation in English is morphologically unmarked, applying whenever input and output may make pragmatic sense, as in:

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(81) Unmarked noun-to-verb derivation input

output

can dust dust water chair phone knife nail knee hand

can (‘put … into a can’) dust (‘remove dust from…’) dust (‘put dust on…’) water (‘give water to…’) chair (‘occupy the presiding chair at a meeting’) phone (‘call…by phone’) knife (‘cut…with a knife’) nail (‘pin…like a nail’) knee (‘hit…with the knee’) hand (‘give…with the hand’)

Several derivational patterns are used to derive verbs from verbs, including a few examples of the old causative pattern with vowel changes in the verb-stem, as well as an unmarked causative pattern: (82) Verb to verb Pattern

input

output

Negative

stabilize do rise sit drink fall lie move turn burn stand

de-stabilize un-do raise set/seat drench fell lay move turn burn stand

Causative

2.6

Adjectives

2.6.1

Semantic characterization We have noted earlier above (§2.3) some of the more general semantic characteristics of adjectives. Following the discussion there, one may divide adjectives into the more prototypical ones that code inherent, concrete, relatively stable qualities of entities; and the less prototypical that code more temporary or less concrete states.

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2.6.1.1
Prototypical adjectives a.

Size Size adjectives most commonly coming as antonym pairs, may denote various spatial dimensions: (83) a. b. c. d. e. f.

General size: big/small Horizontal extension: wide/narrow Thickness: thick/thin, fat/skinny Vertical extension: tall/short Vertical elevation: high/low Length: long/short

b.

Color Color adjectives are either antonym pairs for brightness, or cover the rainbow and beyond, as in: (84) a. Brightness: dark/light, dark/bright, black/white b. Color: violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, brown, beige, etc. c.

Auditory qualities Auditory adjectives, often coming in antonym pairs, may cover several auditory properties, such as: (85) a. b. c. d. e.

Loudness: loud/soft, noisy/quiet Absolute pitch: high/low Relative pitch: sharp/flat Harmony: mellow/harsh Melody: melodious/cacophonous

d.

Shape Shape adjectives may describe the shape of noun-coded objects in one-, two- or threedimensional space, as in: (86) a. One-dimensional: straight, crooked, bent, curved, twisted b. Two-dimensional: round, square, oval, triangular, rectangular, trapezoid c. Three-dimensional: spherical, cubic, conical, cylindrical, pyramidal e.

Taste Taste adjectives code the various tastes, such as: (87) sweet, sour, salty, acid, bitter f.

Tactile Tactile adjectives code various tactile dimensions: (88) a. Texture: rough/smooth b. Resistance: hard/soft c. Pointedness: sharp/dull

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2.6.1.2
Less prototypical adjectives Less prototypical adjectives signal either less concrete properties or more transitory states. a.

Evaluative Evaluative adjectives, often in antonymic pairs, signal subjective judgements of desirability along physical or social dimensions, pertaining to either inherent traits or temporary states: (89) good/bad pretty/ugly nice/lousy, desirable/undesirable b.

Transitory states Adjectives of this heterogenous group describe external, internal, social or mental temporary states, such as: (90) a. b. c. d. e.

Mental-internal: angry, tired, happy, sad, content, disgusted, alert, etc. External activity: busy/idle External condition: dirty/clean Speed of motion: fast/slow Temperature: hot/warm/tepid/lukewarm/cold

c.

States of living Adjectives in this group describe various states of animate beings, such as: (91) a. b. c. d.

Age: young/old, new/old Life: alive/dead Health: healthy/sick, ill/well Business: busy/idle, employed/unemployed

2.6.1.3
Polarity of antonymic adjective pairs As noted above, many adjectives in various semantic sub-classes come as antonymic pairs. That is, each connotes the opposite of the other on what is, at least potentially, a scalar property. The opposition is, however, asymmetrical. Of the two members of the pair, one usually acts as the positive member, connoting the presence (or greater extent) of the quality. The other one acts as the negative member, connoting the absence (or smaller extent) of the quality. Typical matched positive/negative pairs are:

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(92) Antonym adjective pairs quality

positive

negative

size length width thickness height (position) height (size) speed loudness roughness weight brightness

big long wide thick high tall fast loud rough heavy bright

small short narrow thin low short slow quiet smooth light dark

The asymmetry in the behavior of the positive vs. negative member has several semantic and grammatical consequences. First, the positive member most commonly gives the name to the general quality underlying the scale. So that one finds ‘length’ but not ‘shortness’, ‘width’ but not ‘narrowness’, ‘thickness’ but not ‘thinness’, ‘height’ but not ‘lowness’, ‘loudness’ but not ‘quietness’, ‘roughness’ but not ‘smoothness’, ‘brightness’ but not ‘darkness’. The negative member, on the other hand, gives the name to only the negative end of the scale. The asymmetry is further evident in the way we form extent questions: (93) a. Positive question: How tall is she? b. Possible answer: –Very tall. –Very short. c. Negative question: How short is she? d. Possible answer: –Very short. –*Very tall. The positive member, it seems, is used to question the entire scale of the quality. The negative member, on the other hand, is used to question only the negative end of the scale. In terms of markedness, then, one may say that the positive is the unmarked (general) member of the pair, while the negative one is the marked (restricted) one. 2.6.2 Syntactic characterization Adjectives tend to appear in two main syntactic contexts in clauses: predicates in copular clauses (see Chapter 3); •
as
as • modifiers in the Noun Phrase (see Chapter 11). (94) a. Predicate adjective Mary is tall b. Modifying adjective The tall woman

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In some languages, some adjectives may also appear in some less characteristic syntactic positions, involving more complex verb-like patterns. In English, for example, some adjectives may take verbal complements (Chapter 12), as in: (95) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

You were wrong to say that It’s so good of you to come It was hard to forget her It’s incredible that she showed up She was anxious to leave He is easy to please but hard to forget We are aware of your predicament Don’t be afraid to jump

As already noted earlier, state or quality concepts that are coded as adjectives in English may be coded as verbs in other languages. For example, in Eastern Nilotic languages, all such concepts are coded as intransitive verbs (see Chapter 3), exhibiting all the relevant syntactic and morphological characteristics of such verbs. Thus compare: (96) verb

adjective

a-loz-i ‘I go’ 1-go/imperf-sg i-loz-i ‘you go’ 2-go/imperf-sg e-loz-i ‘s/he goes’ 3-go/imperf-sg ki-loz-ete ‘we go’ 1pl-go/imperf-pl i-loz-ete ‘y’all go’ 2-go/imperf-pl e-loz-ete ‘they go’ 3-go/imperf-pl

a-polo-t ‘I am big’ 1-big/imperf-sg i-polo-t ‘you are big’ 2-big/imperf-sg e-polo-t ‘she is big 3-big/imperf-sg ki-polo-q ‘we are big’ 2pl-big/imperf-pl i-polo-q ‘y’all are big’ 2-big/imperf-pl e-polo-q ‘they are big’ 3-big/imperf-pl

2.6.3 Morphological characteristics 2.6.3.1
Grammatical morphology One type of grammatical morphology that may appear on adjectives are comparative and superlative markers, as in English: (97) short cold far good

short-er cold-er far-ther bett-er

short-est cold-est far-thest b-est

In many languages, adjectives exhibit the same grammatical morphology as nouns, even in copular predicate constructions. Thus in many Bantu languages, predicate adjectives display the same morphology as predicate nouns, both contrasting with verbal predicates.

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As in Bemba (Givón 1972): (98) a. Verbal clause with stative verb umuana a-à-shipa ‘the child is brave’ child s/he-perf-brave abaana ba-à-shipa ‘the children are brave’ children they-perf-brave b. Copular clause with predicate noun umuana muu-buyi ‘the child is a thief’ child cl/sg-thief abaana baa-buyi ‘the children are thieves’ children cl/pl-thief c. Copular clause with predicate adjective umuana muu-suma ‘the child is good’ child cl/sg-good abaana baa-suma ‘the children are good children cl/pl-good The sharing of nominal morphology by adjectives may be even more striking when adjectives are used as modifiers in the noun phrase. In such a context, they often ‘agree’ morphologically with various features or the noun (or noun phrase) (Chapter 9). Thus, consider the case, number and gender agreement of the Latin adjective alt- ‘high’ (Wilson 1968): (99)

sg

pl

case

masc

fem

neut

masc

fem

neut

nom acc dat gen

altus altum alto¯ altı¯

alta altam altae altae

altum altum alto¯ altı¯

altı¯ alto¯s altı¯s alto¯rum

altae alta¯s altı¯s alta¯rum

alta alta altı¯s alto¯rum

Likewise, consider the gender, number and definiteness agreement of Modern Hebrew adjectives: (100) a. ha-yeled ha-gadol the-boy the-big b. ha-yald-a ha-gdol-a the-boy-fm the-big-fm c. ha-yelad-im ha-gdol-im the-boy-pl the-big-pl d. ha-yelad-ot ha-gdol-ot the-boy-fm the-big-fm

‘the big boy’ ‘the big girl’ ‘the big boys’ ‘the big girls’

2.6.3.2
Derivational morphology The vast majority of adjectives in many languages, including English, are derived from

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either nouns or verbs. Their meaning thus owes some to the meaning of the original (‘input’) noun or verb, and some to the semantic derivation type. Some examples of nounto-adjective derivation in English are: (101) Noun to adjectives noun

adjective

circle cleric republic rigor disaster law pain

circul-ar cleric-al republic-an rig-id disastr-ous law-ful pain-less

Some examples of verb-derived adjectives in English are: (102) Verb to adjectives noun

adjective

abuse read break burn twist spin

abus-ive read-able brok-en burn-t twist-ed spinn-ing

Finally, several derivational morphemes derive negative adjectives from their unmarked affirmative counterparts, in the process generating more antonymic pairs: (103) Derived negative adjectives positive

negative

willing wise possible tolerable agreeable

un-willing un-wise im-possible in-tolerable dis-agreeable

2.7

Adverbs

2.7.1

Preamble Of the four major lexical word-classes, adverb is the least homogenous, semantically, morphologically and syntactically; it is also, perhaps not surprisingly, the least universal cross-linguistically. The same adverbial meaning may be coded as a bound grammatical

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morpheme in one language, an independent word in another, or a whole syntactic construction — phrases or even clauses — in another (see Chapters 3, 18). As a grammatical category, adverbs thus span the continuum between morphology, lexicon and syntax. As an illustration of this, consider the three near-equivalent stylistic options in English: (104) a. He may leave tomorrow b. He will probably leave tomorrow c. It is very likely that he’ll leave tomorrow In (104a), the adverb is coded as a modal auxiliary, already a verb clitic and thus on its way to becoming bound morphology. In (104b) it is coded as a lexical word. In (104c) the adjective ‘likely’ is the core of a clause that, as a whole, functions as the adverb. The classification given below is primarily semantic-functional. With each class, a certain range of possible morpho-syntactic diversity will be noted. 2.7.2

Semantic classification 2.7.2.1
Manner adverbs Manner adverbs typically modify, or add to, the meaning of the verb. The semantic range of such modification is wide and heterogenous, depending on the specific meaning of the verb. Typical one-word manner adverbs in English are: (105) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

He ran fast. They fought hard. She whistled softly. She easily defeated him. They dealt with her rather harshly. He did it intentionally. She dismissed him thoughtlessly. He advanced carefully.

Many manner adverbs can also be constructed syntactically as prepositional phrases (see Chapter 3), as in: (106) a. b. c. d. e. f. g.

She fought like a tiger. They did it on purpose. He came there by mistake. They deal with adversaries without mercy. He did it with care. She stood at ease. He replied with great candor.

Again, in many cases both syntactic options are available as stylistic variants, as in: (107) a. She made it by hand. b. You do this manually. c. She learned about it by accident.

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d. e. f. g. h.

She learned about it accidentally. They attacked him with words. They attacked him verbally. She proceeded with caution. She proceeded cautiously.

Manner adverbs may also be constructed as full verbal clauses, often resembling participial adverbials (Chapter 18), with a verb at their semantic core, as in: (108) a. She went on without thinking about it. b. He stood there confused about what to do next. c. Floating down-river she bumped into the body. When the manner adverb is a lexical word, its position in the clause may sometimes be flexible, with the order variations yielding subtle shades of scope or emphasis. Thus compare: (109) a. b. c. d.

Quickly she made him open the door. She quickly made him open the door. She made him quickly open the door. She made him open the door quickly.

Manner adverbs may also incorporate into the verb, much like non-referring objects or instruments. Thus, in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), noun, verb or adjective stems can be incorporated as manner adverbs (Givón 1980): (110) a. mama-paghay’wa-y (mama-ch(i) ‘woman’) woman-walk-imm ‘s/he is walking like a woman’ c. pia-’apagha-na-pu =ga (pia-gha-r(u =) ‘sweet’) sweet-talk-hab-rem ‘s/he used to sweet-talk’ d. tu =na-vöri-y (tu =na-vach ‘to hunt’) hunt-walk-imm ‘s/he walks about hunting’, ‘s/he hunts about’ Single-word adverbs may on occasion display derivational morphology, as in the adjectiveto-adverb derivation with -ly in English. However, -ly-marked adverbs are semantically heterogenous, spanning manner as well as epistemic or deontic modality. Thus consider:

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Syntax

(111) adjective manner: brave purposeful deliberate careful sudden manual verbal epistemic-modal: supposed possible certain deontic-modal: fortunate disasterous felicitous

adverb

brave-ly purposeful-ly deliberate-ly carefull-ly sudden-ly manual-ly verbal-ly supposed-ly possib-ly certain-ly fortunate-ly disasterous-ly felicitous-ly

2.7.2.2
Instrumental adverbs It is not always easy to set a firm boundary between manner and instrumental adverbs. One may indeed suggest that the more abstract manner is but a metaphoric extension of the more concrete instrument. As an illustration, compare the use of with-marked prepositional phrases in English: (112) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Instrument: Manner: Instrument: Manner: Instrument: Manner:

She killed him with a knife. She killed him with kindness. They treated him with antibiotics. They treated him with respect. He fought with a broad sword. He fought with rare skill.

Instrument-like adverbs may be constructed as prepositional phrases, as in (106) and (112). But like manner adverbs in (110), they can also be incorporated into the verbal word. And once incorporation takes place, the potential for the incorporated item to fuse with the verb-stem — co-lexicalization — and eventually to become an inherent verbal semantic feature — is very high. The tail end of this diachronic process may be found in the Hokan-Penutian languages of N. California and E. Oregon, as well as in neighboring Numic (No. Uto-Aztecan) languages, such as N. Paiute (Thornes 1996): (113) a. ka-tu =-pongosa ma-tabui-na (ma- ‘hand’) acc-poss-arrow hand-create-asp ‘(they) hand-made their arrows’ b. tu =-tama-ma o-gu =-pada-na (gu =- ‘bite’) poss-teeth-instr 3-bite-bend-asp ‘(they) bend it by biting with their teeth’

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c. i-kaazi to-noyoi my-car fist-move ‘(you) push my car’ d. du =-gu-hani my/asp-fire-prepare ‘(s/he) cooks for me’ e. ta-hani foot-prepare ‘herd (sheep/cattle)’ f. ku-pi-suki fire-back-warm ‘warm one’s back at the fire’ g. pa-ko-ma-ma’i water-face-hand-wash ‘wash one’s face’ h. tsa-noyoi grasp-move ‘pull’ i. i-giki-kuba wi-ni-u my-foot-on long-step-asp ‘(s/he) stepped on my foot’ j. kosso-kimaba a-tsi-kwini-ki fire-beside ??-sharp-stand/pl-asp ‘stick (the sticks) along the fire’

(to- ‘fist’)

(gu- ‘fire’)

(ta- ‘foot’)

(ku- ‘fire’, pi- ‘back’)

(pa- ‘water’, ko- ‘face’, ma- ‘hand’)

(tsa- ‘grasp’)

(wi- ‘long’)

(tsi- ‘sharp’)

2.7.2.3
Time and aspectuality adverbs Adverbs may also code a point in time, or various temporal aspects of events. Their semantic scope is thus not the verb alone, but rather the entire event-clause (proposition). As with other adverbial types, the morpho-syntax of such adverbs is rather heterogenous, spanning the scale from morphology to word to phrase to clause. For example, the singleword adverbs of frequency and aspectuality in English, as in (114), may be coded in both English and other languages as auxiliaries or tense-aspect-modal affixes (Chapters 6, 7). Likewise, the single-word temporal adverbs in English (115) may be coded as tense-aspectmodal morphology in other languages (Chapters 6, 7): (114) Aspectuality a. She comes here often. b. They seldom miss the game. c. She is always late. d. Sometimes she felt funny. e. They did it again. f. He repeatedly refused to comply. g. They continuously disrupted her presentation. h. We argued on and on.

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(115) Temporal-point a. Yesterday it rained. b. He’s coming tomorrow. c. She left Wednesday. d. Soon it’ll be Spring. e. Do it today. Toward the other end of the scale, temporal and aspectual adverbs may also be nominal or prepositional phrases, as in: (116) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i.

The election is next Tuesday. We see them the following week. She’ll see you some other time. Every day I see her walking to work. In two months we’ll let you know. At that point I said ‘no’. She doesn’t come in on Tuesday. They’ll be back in a minute. In the months that followed, they heard nothing from him.

Finally, time adverbs may also appear as adverbial subordinate clauses (Chapter 18), depicting more fully the event that serves as temporal reference point: (117) a. b. c. d. e.

When my brother comes back, we’ll see what we can do. Upon her return from the city, she rented a house. After she came back, we left. While he was gone, she worked harder. She left two weeks after he came back.

2.7.2.4
Epistemic adverbs The semantic scope of epistemic notions ranges, much like that of time adverbs, over the entire proposition (clause). Most typically, they denote the speaker’s attitude toward the truth, certainty or probability of the state or event. Their morpho-syntactic status is also extremely heterogenous, ranging between grammatical modal morphology (Chapters 6, 7), single-word adverbs or phrasal syntactic constructions. Single-word epistemic adverbs in English are seen in (note also (111) above): (118) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

He is certainly wrong. Perhaps she’ll come. Maybe you’re right. This is possibly his greatest invention. She finished supposedly two weeks ago. Probably nothing will happen. Undoubtedly they’ll be here. She had told him, presumably.

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But the very same notions may be also coded as clitic modal auxiliaries, as in: (119) a. b. c. d. e.

She may have left already. He might be at the bar. This can’t be right. She could have come some other time. He must have left already.

Further, certain verb types spread epistemic-modal scope over their complement clauses (Chapters 6, 7, 12), and thus in fact act as epistemic-modal operators over those clauses, as in: (120) a. b. c. d. e. f.

They say he’s back in town. I guess/suppose she’s not in. I think you’re wrong. I hear they’re angry. She saw that they had left. They knew she was there.

(indirect evidence) (low certainty) (low certainty) (indirect evidence) (inference) (high certainty)

2.7.2.5
Deontic-evaluative adverbs The semantic scope of evaluative adverbs again ranges over the entire proposition, conveying the speaker’s valuative attitudes, i.e. judgements of preference for or desirability of a state or event. We have already noted evaluative adverbs derived with -ly from adjectives (111). Others may appear as prepositional phrases, as in: (121) a. With luck, she’ll finish before dark. b. As a happy consequence, he escaped censure. c. For the love of Gods, leave her alone. As in the case of epistemic adverbs, deontic notions can also be coded by modal auxiliaries (122), evaluative verbs and adjectives (123), or other constructions that spread their modal scope over a complement clause (124) (see also Chapters 6, 7, 12). Thus compare: (122) a. She should have done it. b. It need not have turned out this way. c. They had better be on time. (123) a. b. c. d. e.

I’m afraid we ran out of luck. I’d rather you don’t do this. Nothing wrong, I hope? I wish that she hadn’t done that. They prefer that you quit now.

(124) a. b. c. d. e.

God willing, he’ll live. If all goes well, she’ll pass with honors. God forbid they quit now! It’s good that you were there. How awful she didn’t make it.

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f. It is nice that he’s still around. g. It is terrible that he did that. h. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could come? 2.7.2.6
Adverbs modifying adjectives A distinct class of adverbs are used to quantify the extent of adjectives. They may apply either to predicate adjectives, as in (125), or to noun-modifying adjectives, as in (126): (125) With predicate adjectives a. She is very lucky. b. That was rather stupid. c. It was quite impressive. d. This is much more interesting. e. It was truly bizarre. (126) With modifying adjectives a. a very tall man b. an incredibly naive suggestion c. an altogether thorough review d. an unbelievably bad move e. a rather unfortunate accident f. a highly unusual move 2.7.2.7
Emphatic ‘adverbs’ Several grammatical operators (‘function words’) in English are used in emphatic, contrastive capacity, a function that is not easy to classify in a precise way. For lack of a better label, one may consider them a sub-class of adverbs, as in: (127) a. b. c. d. e.

I just know she’s right. We really don’t understand. I only came because I thought… They absolutely abhor violence. She did exactly that.

In other languages, however, the same functions may be performed by grammatical morphology or intonation (see Chapter 15).

2.8

Minor word classes

2.8.1

Preamble In this section we survey briefly several types of grammatical operators whose morphemic status is sometimes murky. The murk is due to three familiar sources:

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change and cliticization; •
diachronic conservatism of writing systems; •
the
unmarked stress in written language. • Since all unstressed, cliticized grammatical morphemes arise historically from stressed independent words, quite often over-reliance on written data obscures the synchronic status of newly grammaticalized operators as unstressed cliticized morphemes. The example of the English articles, prepositions, unstressed anaphoric pronouns and aspectual-modal auxiliaries is a notorious case in point, already noted above (see also Givón 1999). Nonetheless, some grammatical morphemes retain stress and do not cliticize — unless they change grammatical function. 2.8.2 Adpositions As will be seen later on (Chapter 5), nominal case-markers arise historically from two lexical sources, locational nouns and serial verbs. During the early stages of cliticization, they may retain some structural properties of their erstwhile lexical source, including word stress. A case in point are English prepositions, some of which are old, short and most often unstressed (128a). Others are younger, longer and more often stressed (128b). And other are younger and longer yet, still stressed, and still reveal their constructional origin as complex nominal phrases: (128) a. Short, unstressed to, from, for, on, off, at, in, with, by, b. Long, mostly stressed before, behind, after, under, above, upon, between, inside c. Construction-like, stressed on top of, in front of, in the middle of, at the bottom of, in the back of, at the center of, outside (of), out (of) Syntactically, all three types precede the noun phrase in English, and are — at least potentially — proclitics to the first word in the noun phrase, as in: (129) a. b. c. d. e.

at home behind the store across big rivers on top of the house in her beautiful new downtown office

A similar situation is found in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), where a few older postpositions are short unstressed suffixes, sometimes coming in pairs, as in (Givón 1996): (130) a. Instrumental wiici-m ‘with a knife’ knife-instr

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b. Associative mamaci-wa ‘with the woman’ woman-assoc c. Locative yúaa-va ‘in/over/at the open country’ field-at kani-vaa-t(u =) ‘at/toward the house’ (orientation) house-at-dir kani-va-n(a) ‘on the house’ house-at-on mamaci-vaa-cu = ‘to the woman’ (orientation) woman-at-dir This rather sparse, eroded system has been enriched more recently with newly-grammaticalized postpositions, most of them out of motion verbs, but a few from locational nouns. These new postpositions are longer and still stressed (Givón 1996): (130) a. mamáci-vaa-cúxw(a) ‘(motion) to the woman’ (cugwa- ‘meet’) woman-loc-meet b. kaní-vaa-túxw(a) ‘(motion) to the house’ (tugwa- ‘go to’) house-loc-go c. kani-na-kwa-pa’ágh(a) ‘up from the house’ (kwa- ‘go’) house-up-go-ascend (pa’agha- ‘ascend’) d. kaní-náagh(a) ‘in the house’ (naagha- ‘enter’) house-enter e. páa-naagh(a)-túx(wa) ‘into the water’ (naagha- ‘enter’) water-enter-go (tugwa- ‘go’) f. ‘u-vwáa-cáw(i) ‘down there’ (cawi- ‘descend’) there-loc-descend g. kaní-vaa-tu =-maná-kway ‘from the house’ (mana- ‘leave’) house-loc-dir-leave-go (kwa- ‘go’) h. ma-na-tarúxw(a) ‘up on there’ (tarugwa- ‘climb’) there-on-ascend i. kaní qováa-va ‘in front of the house’ (qova- ‘face’) house/gen face-loc j. kaní tugú-tuxw(a) ‘on top of the house’ (tugu- ‘sky’) house/gen sky-go (tugwa- ‘go’) k. kaní tú =raa-va ‘out of the house’ (tú =raa- ‘oudoors’) house/gen outdoors-loc (va- ‘at’) l. kaní tu =rágwaa-va ‘in the middle of the house’ house/gen center-loc (tu =rágwa- ‘center’)

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97

Determiners The class of determiners includes a number of noun or noun–phrase operators, each one with its own specific functions (Chapters 9, 10) and morpho-syntactic behavior in the noun phrase (Chapter 11). Further, many of those are unstressed grammatical morphemes, cliticized on the noun or noun phrase (see §2.4.3 above). They thus should not be counted as a lexical word-class. Our treatment here would be rather cursory. 2.8.3.1
Demonstratives (‘deictics’) Fuller treatment of these grammatical operators will be deferred till Chapters 9, 10 and 11. Typically, demonstratives code the orientation (deixis) of a noun vis-a-vis some spatial reference point, most commonly the location of the speaker or hearer, as in Swahili (Bantu): (131) a. mtu huyu ‘this man next to me’ b. mtu huyo ‘that man next to you’ c. mtu yule ‘that person way over there’ In many languages, the spatial orientation of demonstratives can be expanded into temporal orientation vis-a-vis some reference point in time, an evolution that transforms them rather naturally into articles (§2.8.3.2 below). Thus consider the change in Swahili of the distal demonstrative determiner (131c) into a definite article (132). In its new capacity, the erstwhile demonstrative is de-stressed and is devoid of any hint of spatial deixis: (132) yule mtu ‘the man’ In the same vein, note the temporal deixis use of the English demonstratives ‘this’ and ‘that’: (133) That’s all I can tell you. (anaphoric past reference) Now this’s what you can do: (cataphoric future reference) Demonstratives are often unstressed and cliticized when used as determiners. In that capacity, they resemble articles and other determiners (see further below). When used as pronouns, however, demonstratives are most commonly stressed independent words. Thus contrast: (134) a. Demonstrative determiners She’s read that book already. This house is not for sale. b. Demonstrative pronouns She’s read THAT already. THIS is not for sale. 2.8.3.2
Articles While most often evolving diachronically from determiners or other noun modifiers, definite and indefinite articles are most typically unstressed, bound morphology, cliticized either to the noun or the noun phrase. They are treated extensively in Chapters 10 and 11, within the context of reference and definiteness. Counting them as a word-class is inappropriate, reflecting the conservatism of the English writing system:

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(135) Definite: Indefinite:

I saw the (red) book(s) I want a (red) book I saw some (red) books Non-referring: I don’t want any (red) book(s) I want no (red) book(s)

2.8.3.3
Possessive pronouns Possessive pronouns, much like demonstratives, may be either unstressed determiners cliticized to the noun or noun phase, or stressed independent pronouns: (136) a. Unstressed determiner This is his-house b. Stressed independent pronoun This house is HIS In English, unfortunately, the difference is often obscured by the writing system. In their capacity as bound determiners, possessive pronouns are a morphological rather than lexical class (see §2.4.3 above). In other languages, the difference between clitic and independent pronouns is often more sharply drawn. Thus in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), the unstressed possessive pronouns are small noun suffixes that can only be used with inherently-possessed nouns (kinship terms, body parts). Independent possessive pronouns, on the other hand, are larger stressed words: (137) suYxed pronouns a.
pía-n ‘my mother’ b.
pía-m ‘your mother’ c.
pía-’u ‘his/her mother’ d.
pía-am ‘their mother’

independent pronouns nú =nay ‘mine’ ‘u =mú =y ‘yours’ ‘uwáyas ‘his/hers’ ‘umú =as ‘theirs’

Possessive pronouns, being obligatorily definite, sometimes fit into the determiner slot like other articles in the grammar of the noun phrase. Thus in English (see more in Chapter 11): (138) the horse my horse a horse *my the horse *the my horse *my a horse *a my horse In other languages, possessive determiners may occupy other slots, and may co-exist with the definite article, as in Hebrew, where two alternative forms are possible: (138) a. ha-sefer shel-i ‘my book’ (colloquial) the-book sub-my

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b. sifr-i book-my c. *ha-sifr-i the-book-my

‘my book’ (old fashioned)

2.8.4 Independent subject and object pronouns The functional and morpho-syntactic differences between unstressed clitic pronouns and stressed independent pronouns will be discussed extensively in Chapter 9. As noted above, both demonstratives and possessive pronouns can be used as stressed independent pronouns. In addition, subject and object pronouns can also be stressed, thus serve as independent pronouns, in the appropriate discourse context. Once again, the difference is obscured in the English writing system, a fact that has given rise to much mischief in Anglocentric grammatical analysis (Givón 1999). As an illustration of clitic (unstressed) vs. independent (stressed) subject and object pronouns in English, consider: (139) a. Unstressed clitic pronouns …so she-told-him to leave… Bill invited Joe over. Then he-left. (Bill left) b. Stressed independent object pronouns I didn’t see HER, I saw HIM. c. Stressed independent subject pronouns HE didn’t do it. SHE did. Bill invited Joe over. Then HE left. (Joe left) 2.8.5

Inter-clausal connectives Inter-clausal connectives are grammatical morphemes par excellence, usually becoming either clause-final or clause-initial clitics. In verb-final (SOV) languages, this commonly means that they are verb suffixes, joining there with tense-aspect-modal, pronominal, speech-act and switch-reference markers (see §2.5.3.1 above). Like all other grammatical morphemes that arise from the grammaticalization of erstwhile lexical words or even phrases, their clitic status often goes unrecognized by linguists relying solely on conservative-written data. Occasionally, inter-clausal connectives arise from more complex adverbial constructions, and may for a while persist as such before truncation and cliticization. Their status as lexical word-classes is at best problematic, and our treatment here will be cursory. 2.8.5.1
Conjunctions The topic of clausal conjunction will be discussed extensively in Chapter 18, where conjunctions are shown to form a complex system with inter-clausal pauses (punctuation). Phrasal conjunction will be treated in Chapter 11. English exhibits a fairly wide range of conjunction markers, as in:

100 Syntax

(140) a. Simple conjunctions and, but, or, so, then b. Complex conjunctions and so, so then, later on, and then, so later on, etc. c. Historically complex conjunctions however, moreover, furthermore, nevertheless, albeit Used as clausal conjunctions, they may be seen in: (141) a. She first came over, then changed her mind and left. b. He left. However, later on he came back, but then left again Their use of phrasal conjunctions may be seen in: (142) a. Mary and John didn’t see either Henry or Marla b. Neither Henry nor Marla was there 2.8.5.2
Subordinators Clausal of phrasal subordinator are part of the grammatical morphology attached to particular embedded and/or subordinate clauses, and will be noted in relevant chapters throughout (Chapters 11, 12, 14, 18). We have already noted the high probability of their appearing as verbal morphology (see §2.5.3.1 above). Some examples from English are: (143) a. Adverbial-clause subordinators (Ch. 18) When Leno came back from work… If she’s right… Although he is blind… b. Relative-clause subordinators (Ch. 14) the woman who came at the end… the chair that he broke… the place where they found him… c. Verb-complement subordinators (Ch. 12) She thought that he was her friend. He planned to leave early. She didn’t know if it was relevant. d. Noun-complement subordinators (Ch. 11) The fact that she’s still there… His decision to quit his job… Their indecision about when to start… 2.8.6 Quantifiers, numerals and ordinals Quantifiers, numerals and ordinals are small classes of noun modifiers that code notions of quantity, extent, number or serial order. They all partake in the grammar of noun phrases (Chapter 11).

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(142) a. Quantifiers some of her books all his money many friends few teachers a few of them much talk lots of water little peace only the brave even she b. Numerals one book two houses three times c. Ordinals the first book the second house the third time Languages vary a great deal in their numeral and ordinal systems, both in terms of their semantic organization, but also in terms of how these modifiers are integrated into the grammar morphologically and syntactically. Further, addition, subtraction, multiplication and division operators may involve complex verbal constructions. To illustrate just a bit of the potential complexity, in particular the logic of deriving higher numerals from lower ones, consider the Ute (Uto-Aztecan) numerals from one to ten, all followed by the subject suffix peculiar to numerals (Givón 1980): (143) 1. súu-is one-subj 2. wá-ini two-subj 3. pá-ini three-subj 4. wh-chúwi-ini two-??-subj (two twos?) 5. ma-nú =gi-ini hand-??-subj (full hand?)

6. naváy-ni split-subj (split from the first hand) 7. naváy-kya-va-ini split-pl-fut-subj (two split from the full hand) 8. wá-whchúwi-ini two-two-??-subj (two fours) 9. suwá-rogho-ma-súwi-ini almost-straight-hand-other-subj (almost ten) 10. toghó-ma-súwi-ini straight-hand-other-subj (the other hand straight)

In the object form of the numerals, the suffix is -ku-(s).

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2.8.7 Auxiliary verbs As noted earlier above (§2.5.3.1), auxiliary verbs are an early stage of the grammaticalization of verbs into tense-aspect-modal markers, thus into verbal morphology. They will be discussed further in Chapter 7. 2.8.8 Interjections Interjections are a heterogenous class with a broad range of functions, most of them expressive or interactive. Some of them may signal epistemic notions such as assent or disagreement with the interlocutor. Others may tilt more toward the deontic, expressing valuative judgement about states or events, including the interlocutor’s past or future actions. Others may signal surprise, incomprehension, query, uncertainty, social insecurity and more. Interjections are a transition area in grammar, connecting it to the various cultural conventions that govern social and inter-personal behavior — interaction, public conduct, status, power, politeness and deference, the flow of conversation, greetings, curses, endearments, etc. Their morpho-syntactic status varies enormously across languages and even within the same language, straddling the continuum from lexicon to morpho-syntax to intonation. Some of the more common items classified as interjections in English are: (144) yes, no, oh, oh?, huh, huh?, uh-huh, uh-uh, wow, really? right, y’know, I see, okay, okay? well, now, no way! But there is no principled way of excluding more complex constructions from the functional domain(s) of interjections, as in: (145) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l. m. n. o. p. q. r.

wait-a-minute! now hold it! now let’s see… if you don’t mind, if you really think so… it would be nice if… if it’s all the same to you… take it easy now… no way José! beg your pardon? I’m sorry. Excuse me. My sweetheart, Dear colleague, Most sincerely, Your humble servant, Your Majesty, Dear God!

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s. Most incredible! t. How strange!

Notes to Chapter 2 1. At this juncture we will deliberately gloss over the fact that in many languages a lexical word-stem cannot be used without at least some obligatory grammatical morphology; see further below. 2. Recognizing the primacy of time and space in the categorization of experience is but a belated recapitulation of Immanuel Kant. In his Critique of Pure Reason, Kant singled out the features of time and space as the most basic features of human experience. Indeed, he considered them as synthetic apriori or presupposed (in a more modern parlance, wired in) prerequisites for all other features of experience to be possible: “…the representation of space must be presupposed. The representation of space cannot, therefore, be empirically obtained from the relations of outer appearance. On the contrary, this outer experience is itself possible at all only through that representation…” (N. K. Smith, Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, 1929/1973, p. 68) 3. Chomsky’s (1957, 1965) description of the English auxiliary complex as a strictly rule-governed grammatical system vastly over-represents its generativity, in addition to misrepresenting the intricacies of English tense. The reanalysis of past-marked modal verbs as non-past mood markers (Bybee 1995), the constant addition of new modal and progressive auxiliaries, and the behavioral gradation between older and more recent auxiliaries, all play havoc with the purported neatness of this still-evolving system (Givón 1993: Vol. I, Ch. 4).



Chapter 3

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.1

Preliminaries

3.1.1

Orientation This chapter deals with the structure of the simple clause. As noted earlier, the simple — main, declarative, affirmative, active — clause serves as the reference point for grammatical description. It is the theme vis-a-vis which all other clause-types may be seen as variations. Describing the various types of simple clauses is tantamount to describing the various types of verbs, or predications, used in language. This is so because verbs, or predicates, make up the semantic core of clauses, defining their semantic type. Verbs are characterized semantically first by the obligatory semantic roles of the participants in the state or event they code. Each verb — and verb type — has a characteristic cluster of such obligatory participants. In addition to their assigned semantic roles in the state or event, participants also assume characteristic grammatical roles in the clause, such as subject, direct object or indirect object (see §3.1.4 below). Thus, while semantic roles define the state or event semantically, grammatical roles define the clause syntactically. Simple clauses are thus defined in terms of their two matching templates or frames, one semantic, the other syntactic: (1) Defining frames of the simple clause a. Semantic: semantic frame of participant roles (semantic structure of state/event-types) b. Syntactic: syntactic frame of grammatical roles (syntactic structure of clause-types) The fact that the syntactic structure of simple clauses is described in terms of the grammatical roles — grammatical relations — assumed by event participants is of course partly a matter of definition. But there is more to it. As noted earlier (Ch. 1, §1.8), simple clauses exhibit the strongest isomorphism between semantics and syntax, as compared to all other clause types. This isomorphism is expressed, in large part, in terms of the systematic mapping between the semantic roles of the participants in the state/event and their grammatical roles in the clause. The systematic mapping between these two parallel systems — semantic roles and grammatical relations (GRs) — lies at the core of the grammatical structure of simple

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clauses. The characteristic cluster of semantic roles of each verb have their ‘preferred’ mapping into grammatical relations in the simple clause. This is what some people call preferred argument structure. The upshot of this is that in describing the syntax of simple clauses in this chapter, we cannot avoid referring to grammatical relations. Nonetheless, our discussion of GR’s here will remain, of necessity, brief and informal, deferring the more explicit and extensive treatment to Chapter 4. 3.1.2

States, events, and actions A proposition may signify a state, involving no change over time. The state may be either temporary (of limited duration), or permanent (of relatively long duration), or of some intermediate duration. A proposition may also signify an event, involving change from one state to another over time. The change may be fast and bounded, thus construed as a change from a distinct initial state to a distinct terminal state. Or it may be slow and unbounded, i.e. construed as an ongoing process without focusing on the event’s temporal boundaries. Some events, further, are deliberately initiated by an active agent. Such events are called actions. Typical examples of states, events and actions are: (2) a. b. c. d. e. f.

3.1.3

Temporary state: Permanent state: Bounded event: Unbounded event: Bounded action: Unbounded action:

She was angry She was tall The ball dropped The ball rolled downhill She dropped the ball She rolled the ball downhill

Semantic roles As noted above, clauses are divided into types according to the types of the verb that occupies their semantic and syntactic core. And verbs, in turn, are divided into semantic types according to the semantic roles of the participants in the state or event coded by the clause. The array of semantic roles typically associated with each verb thus defines the propositional-semantic frame of the verb, the state/event, and the clause. In characterizing the major types of event participants (semantic roles) relevant to grammatical description, we must recall the earlier caution concerning the limits of definitions and taxonomies: (3) Limits of semantic-role taxonomy
The definitions given below pertain to major participant types, thus major semantic roles. But each type may have finer and finer sub-types, in principle ad infinitum.
The distinction between a major type and a minor sub-type is not a principled one, but rather a matter of pragmatic judgement. As noted in

• •

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107

Chapter 2, above, a major semantic feature (or type) is simply one that has more extensive grammatical consequences.
In defining each semantic role, we only define a prototype. Most members of a natural class tend to conform, more or less, to the class’s prototype. But every natural population also has less prototypical members that fit the prototype less well. Fortunately, such less prototypical members are — by definition — a minority (Ch. 1, §1.7.2).

•

In principle, thus, if one probes deep enough, each verb defines its own unique propositional frame, thus its own unique array of semantic roles. The major semantic roles typically taken by event/state participants are: (4) Definitions of main semantic roles
agent = the participant, typically animate, who acts deliberately to initiate the event, and thus bears the responsibility for it (Agt)
patient = the participant, either animate or inanimate, that either is in a state or registers a change-of-state as a result of an event (Pat)
dative = a conscious participant in the event, typically animate, but not the deliberate initiator (Dat)
instrument = a participant, typically inanimate, used by the agent to perform the action (Instr)
benefactive = the participant, typically animate, for whose benefit the action is performed (Ben)
locative = the place, typically concrete and inanimate, where the state is, where the event occurs, or toward which or away from which some participant is moving (Loc)
associative = an associate of the agent, patient or dative of the event, whose role in the event is similar, but who is not as important (Assoc)
manner = the manner in which an event occurs or an agent performed the action (Mann)

• • • • • • • •

Some typical examples of these semantic roles in simple state or event clauses are: (5) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l.

Agent (subject): Patient of state (subject): Patient of state (object): Patient of change (subject): Patient of change (object): Dative (subject): Dative (object): Dative (indir. object): Instrument: Benefactive: Locative state: Locative motion:

Mary kicked John Mary is tall Mary saw John John’s arm broke Mary broke John’s arm John knew Mary John scared Mary John talked to Mary She chopped firewood with an axe He fixed the roof for his mother She lives in Philadelphia He went to the store

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Syntax

m. Associative: n. Manner:

She worked with her father He left in a hurry

The system of semantic roles described here follows, broadly, Fillmore (1968) and Chafe (1970). A sparser, more abstract system has been proposed by Anderson (1971), one that conflates agent (5a) with instrument (5i), and dative (5h) with benefactive (5j) and locative (5l). The grammatical consequences of such a system, however, are limited in two respects. First, it predicts best one morphological aspect of grammatical relations, case-marking, but leaves more behavioral properties (see Chapter 4, §4.3.2) largely unaccounted for. Second, even this system’s morphological predictions tend to be conspicuous only in one major case-marking system (ergative; see Chapter 4, §4.4.3.3).1 3.1.4

Grammatical relations As noted above, participants in states or events, in whatever semantic role, can also assume some grammatical relation in the clause. Of those, the most universally attested are: (6) a. b. c. d. e.

subject direct object indirect object predicate adverb

Of the five grammatical relations in (6), the last two (1d,e) are clearly more peripheral, in that they display fewer grammatical consequences in fewer languages. The first two (1a,b) are clearly the most central and display more grammatical consequences in more languages. Indirect object (6c) occupies an intermediate status, in terms of number of languages and of grammatical consequences. As a brief illustration of the five grammatical relations listed in (6), consider: (7) a. The woman gave a book to the child subj obj io b. Mary is a teacher subj pred c. She stopped working at five adv Even the most cursory look at the examples of semantic roles given in (5) above would point to the striking fact that the mapping from semantic roles to grammatical relations in the simple clauses is far from random. At the very least, the following generalizations emerge: (8) Constraints on mapping from semantic roles to grammatical relations in simple clauses a. An agent can only be the subject. b. A patient can only be a subject or direct object. c. A dative can be a subject, direct object or indirect object. d. All other semantic roles can only be indirect objects.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

While these generalizations are subject to some cross-language variation, in the main they are surprisingly stable. In part, this is of course the consequence of the way we define what is and what isn’t a simple clause (see §3.1.5.2 below as well as Ch. 1, §1.5, 1.8). But it is also the consequences of the pragmatic dimension of topicality that underlie grammatical relations (see Chapter 4, §4.3.4). 3.1.5

Transitivity 3.1.5.1
Semantic definition Simple clauses — and thus verbs — are either transitive or intransitive. Transitivity is a complex phenomenon involving both semantic and syntactic components. We will deal with both more fully in Chapters 4 and 13. The treatment here is thus preliminary, and will be couched in terms of the prototype transitive event. The prototype transitive event is defined by the semantic properties of the agent, patient and verb in the event-clause; respectively (Hopper and Thompson 1980): (9) Semantic prototype of transitive event a. Agentivity: Having a deliberate, active agent. b. Affectedness: Having a concrete, affected patient. c. Perfectivity: Involving a bounded, terminated, fast-changing event in real time. All three semantic features are, at least in principle, a matter of degree, something already noted in Chapter 2. 3.1.5.2
Syntactic definition The semantic prototype of a transitive event will figure repeatedly in subsequent discussions, since it has many grammatical consequences (see Chapters 4, 13). The syntactic definition of transitive clauses — and thus of transitive verbs — is subjected to a certain measure of cross-language typological variation (see Chapter 4). Nonetheless, for most languages it boils down to a single syntactic feature: (10) Syntactic prototype of transitive clause Clauses and verbs that have a direct object are syntactically transitive. All others are syntactically intransitive. The relative simplicity and discreteness of the syntactic definition (10), as compared to the complexity and scalarity of the semantic definition (9), indeed illustrates a general point: form is much more schematic, reductive and discrete than semantic or •
Grammatical pragmatic function. While the two definitions of transitivity, semantic (9) and syntactic (10), seem independent of each other, there is in fact a strong overlap between the populations of events and clauses they predict. That is, in most languages, the vast majority of simple clauses that are semantically transitive are also syntactically transitive. This is of course hardly a coincidence, but rather a consequence of the way we have defined simple clause, the theme in syntactic

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Syntax

description (Ch. 1, §1.5), as an active-transitive clause. We can now translate this informal practice into a more formal observation: (11) Prototypical mapping between semantic and syntactic transitivity If the simple clause codes a semantically transitive event (9), the event’s agent will be the clause’s subject, and the event’s patient the clause’s direct object (10). Observation (11) sits at the very core of the systematic mapping between semantic roles and grammatical relations in simple clauses. It is part of the wider predictability noted in (8) above. It entails, for example, that of the two semantically-equivalent clauses in (12) below, the active transitive (12a) will be considered the simple (unmarked) clause, and the passive de-transitive (12b) the complex (marked) clause: (12) a. Simple, unmarked (active transitive) Mary broke the glass b. Complex, marked (passive de-transitive) The glass was broken by Mary

3.2

Phrase structure and tree diagrams

3.2.1 What the formalism is good for The formalism we will employ here for describing the syntactic structure of simple clauses is that phrase-structure (PS) tree diagrams, in the main following Chomsky (1957, 1965). PS tree diagrams represent, rather elegantly, the following syntactic properties of simple clauses: (13) Natural domain of PS tree diagrams a. constituency b. hierarchy c. category labels of nodes d. linear order We will discuss those in order. a.

Constituency A clause is not made out of a mere linear sequence of the words and morphemes coding the verb and the participants. Rather, it has a more complex, hierarchic constituent structure. That is, the clause is divided into major parts, which in turn are sub-divided into sub-parts. The depth of this hierarchic structure is one measure of the clause’s complexity, depending in part on the obligatory constituents called for by the verb or event-type, and in part on whatever optional constituents partaking in the event.

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111

The difference between obligatory and optional constituents is roughly as follows: Obligatory constituents are indispensable for the semantic definition of the verb or event-type. Optional constituents, either lexical or grammatical, are added for the occasion, but are not indispensable for the semantic definition of the verb or event-type. Consider first a simple clause with only two constituents, a subject (here a proper name) and a predicate verb: (14) Mary slept We may represent clause (14) initially as the PS tree-diagram in (15): (15)

S Subj

Verb

Mary

slept

b.

Hierarchy In example (14)/(15) both the subject and the predicate verb are single words. But both may also be larger phrases, each with its own optional sub-constituents, as in: (16) The tall woman was sleeping peacefully subj noun-phrase verb phrase In a hierarchic structure, the whole — the clause (S) — is the top of the hierarchy, dominating all constituents. Its proper parts are then directly dominated by it, and their proper sub-parts are in turn directly dominated by them. Clause (16) has two proper sub-parts, the subject noun phrase (NP) and verb phrase (VP). But the subject NP in clause (16) contains three sub-parts of its own, the article (Art) ‘the’ and the modifying adjective (Adj) ‘tall’, in addition to the head noun (N) ‘woman’. Together, the three combine into the noun phrase (NP). Likewise, the verbal predicate in clause (16) contains the optional auxiliary (Aux) ‘be’, the verb (V) ‘sleeping’, and an optional manner adverb (Adv) ‘peacefully’. Together the three combine into the verb phrase (VP). Clause (16) is now represented by the PS tree-diagram in (17), with the two obligatory constituents — the noun in the subject NP and the verb in the VP — highlighted: (17)

S Subj [NP]

VP Aux

Art

Adj

N

the

tall

woman

was

V

Adv

sleeping peacefully

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Syntax

c.

Nodes and their category labels In our PS tree-diagram formalism, each constituent is a node, dominated by the constituent-node of which it is a part, and dominating the constituent-nodes that make up its own proper sub-parts. Each node is labeled according to its syntactic category — S (clause), Subj/NP (subject noun phrase), VP (verb phrase), N (noun), V (verb), Art (article), Adj (adjective), Aux (auxiliary), or Adv (adverb). Some of the nodes in the PS tree-diagram directly dominate the vocabulary, be it lexical (words) or grammatical (morphemes). These ‘lower’ nodes, which name various lexical or grammatical categories, are relatively easy to justify. They are, in a sense, the more concrete nodes, justified by the classes of lexical words or grammatical morphemes directly dominated by them. The validity of that classification, in terms of various grammatical consequences, justifies these ‘lower’ nodes. But ‘higher’ nodes, such as NP and VP or even S, are more abstract, dominating directly no well-justified words or morphemes but rather other abstract syntactic nodes. But the labels of these higher nodes cannot be chosen capriciously, and their validity as syntactic categories must still be justified. We will not get into this justification at this juncture beyond a few preliminary comments. As a consequence of what we have learned about the structure of (16)/(17), the syntactic description of clause (14) must now be readjusted, from (15) above to the more precise (18). But as one can see, the readjustment does not involve the hierarchic structure itself, but only the category labels of more abstract nodes: (18)

S Subj [NP]

VP

Name

V

Mary

slept

The PS tree-diagraming conventions we use here define all noun modifiers, both lexical and grammatical, as parts of the noun phrase. Likewise, auxiliaries, manner adverbs and direct and indirect objects are all defined as parts of the verb phrase. In doing this, we deliberately gloss over the fact that auxiliaries, like articles, are grammatical morphemes rather than lexical words (Ch. 2). Some comments about this glossing over will be made further below. If the noun phrase has a head noun, it can stand alone without any modifiers. But the entire noun phrase may also consist of either a name (as in (14)/(15)/(18)), or a pronoun, as in (19) below:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

(19)

113

S Subj [NP]

VP

PRO

V

She

slept

Again, we will gloss here over the fact that unstressed anaphoric pronouns are, even in English, bound affixes or clitics (Ch. 2). The head of the verb phrase is the verb itself, its obligatory constituent. Thus, the VP in (14)/(15)/(18) requires no other constituents except for the verb ‘sleep’. But other verbs do, so that the verb phrase in clauses containing them may have an obligatory direct object and/or indirect object. As illustrations of such clauses, consider (20a–c) below: (20) a. Mary read the book b. Mary talked to John c. Mary gave the book to John

(Obj) (IO) (Obj, IO)

The PS tree-diagrams corresponding to (20a–c) are given in (21), (22) and (23) below, respectively: (21)

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Obj [NP]

Name

Mary

(22)

read

Art

N

the

book

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Name

IO [PP] P

NP Name

Mary

talked

to

John

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Syntax

(23)

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Name

Obj [NP] Art

IO [PP] N

P

NP Name

Mary

gave

the

book

to

John

d.

Serial order One happy consequence of the PS tree-diagram formalism is that it automatically assigns a strict serial order to nodes at all levels of the hierarchy. The left-to-right order in our paper-bound formalism is isomorphic to the temporal order of spoken words and morphemes. Its two dimensions thus represent, simultaneously, temporal order from left to right, and hierarchic constituency from bottom to top. 3.2.2

What the formalism is not good for While the tree-diagram formalism has been rather successful at representing constituency, hierarchy, node labels and serial order, it has generated considerable grief when called upon to represent other features of morpho-syntax. Some of the problems were already apparent when the formalism was unveiled by Chomsky (1957, 1965). Others emerged later on, as Generative grammarians insisted on loading more and more dimensions of semantics, pragmatics and morpho-syntax onto this frail two-dimensional formal instrument. In this section we will survey some of the areas of syntax where the formalism has been less successful, without attempting an ultimate resolution. Some of the theoretical issues implicit in the discussion will be revisited in subsequent chapters. a.

Morphology The PS tree-diagram formalism is incapable of making a distinction between lexical and grammatical entities. Its two-dimensionality leaves it no recourse but to accord them equal treatment in terms of constituency, hierarchic rank and serial order. For morphemes near their diachronic point of origin, this limitation of the formalism appears at first glance less damaging. They still resemble lexical words — large, concrete constituents with their own independent phonetic bulk. They still occupy transparent positions in the serial order. And one is tempted to assume that their hierarchic rank in the PS tree — their nodebranching locations — is transparent. This assumption, however, turns out to be false, as two rather mundane examples of grammaticalization will illustrate, one from Swahili, the other from English.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

(24) a. mtoto a-na-taka ku-la child s/he-pres-want inf-eat ‘The child wants to eat’ b. mtoto a-ta-ku-la child s/he-fut-inf-eat ‘the child will eat’ (25) a. He’s going to the store b. He’s gonna walk to the store In both (24a) and (25a), the semantic scope of the lexical verb ranges over the verb phrase alone. In the grammaticalized (24b) and (25b), on the other hand, the scope of the future tense has widened to range over the entire proposition. One may choose to still graft the new tense-aspect node at its original hierarchic level in (24a) and (25a), i.e. as the head verb of the VP. This solution may still reflect the superficial facts of English (25b). Alternatively, one may choose to graft it at a lower level, as a prefixal sub-constituent of the verb, a solution that better represents its morphemic status in Swahili (24b). But both solutions still misrepresent its semantic scope as a future tense. As morphemes cliticize and shrink over time, their hierarchic level and serial position in the PS tree becomes more and more problematic, as clitics become affixes, then inflections, then merged portmanteau morphemes, then telltale morphophonemic alternations on other stems (or morphemes), and finally just plain zeros. Their semantic or pragmatic scope may widen to range over the phrase or the clause, but their morphemic position becomes more and more narrowly localized, or even nonexistent. The two-edged conundrum of grammaticalization won’t go away. If PS trees are to do justice to a morpheme’s functional scope, they must misrepresent its concrete morphemic location and/or its syntactic constituency. If they are to do justice to the morpheme’s concrete location and/or syntactic constituency, they must misrepresent its functional scope. In the prevailing Generative formalism of Government and Binding (Chomsky 1981), real morphemic status, actual serial position and concrete syntactic constituency have been sacrificed in favor of allegedly universal semantic and pragmatic scopes. This preference has two consequences: tree-diagrams have become abstract and extravagant, bearing scant resemblance •
PS to the physical facts of morphosyntax. •
PS trees appear highly universal, reflecting no cross-language typological variation.

b.

NP and PP vs. grammatical relations At first glance, the problem of the NP and PP node-labels seems a transparent offshoot of the problem of morphology. However, it reaches far beyond morphology into the theoretical status of grammatical relations in syntax. As one may have noticed in the tree-diagrams above, the subject, object and indirect object nodes have been double-labeled. The label NP was added in brackets underneath Subj and Obj, and PP under IO. What is the justification for such a peculiar practice? Generative grammarians ever since Chomsky (1957, 1965) have chosen to not represent grammatical relations in their PS tree-diagrams. Rather, subjects, direct object

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Syntax

and indirect objects have been represented as noun phrases (NP) when not morphologically case-marked, or as prepositional phrases (PP) when case-marked by a preposition or postposition. Grammatical relations were then ‘read off’ the configuration of the PS tree: subject is the NP (or PP) dominated by the clause node (S); •
the
the • object is the NP (or PP) dominated by the verb phrase node (VP). To my best knowledge, this practice has never been justified on principled grounds, dating as it is back to Chomsky’s glaring inattention to grammatical relations in his early work (1957, 1965). But a cursory comparison of English, Japanese and Latin would suffice to demonstrate how capricious the traditional practice is. (26) a. English: b. Japanese:

c. Latin:

The man gave a book to the boy Onna-ga otoko-ni tegami-o kaita woman-subj man-dat letter-obj write ‘The woman wrote a letter to the man’ vir[Ø] puero librum dedit man/nom boy/dat book/acc gave ‘The man gave a book to the boy’

The subject and direct object in English are morphologically unmarked. In Japanese they are marked by postposition, and in Latin by portmanteau inflections that may be zero in some case-roles or for some nouns (as in the nominative vir ‘man’ in (26c)). But as noted above, case-markers are not words but rather morphology, ranging on the diachronic morphemic scale from large adpositions to zero. Consequently, the difference between NP and PP is a matter of morphology rather than syntax. It cannot be nailed down with precision even within a single language (Latin). Consequently, the overriding grammatical property of subjects and objects is that they are headed by a noun, or a name, or a pronoun. That is, regardless of the diachronic vagaries of their case-marking morphology, subjects and objects are all nominal phrases — NPs. Therefore PP is not a valid syntactic node. Since grammatical relations, as we will note repeatedly, are the most fundamental core properties of clausal syntax, the historical custom of ‘reading them off’ their PS-tree configuration is an empty formal gesture, and a rather bizarre one at that. One might as well accord grammatical relations their rightful syntactic label at the outset. c.

Semantic and pragmatic scope As noted earlier, Generative grammarians have gradually given up on formalisms that represent actual morphological and syntactic facts of real constructions in particular languages. Rather, PS trees have come to represent highly abstract if allegedly universal mental structures (Chomsky 1992). With the formalism thus liberated from actual morpho-syntax, Generative grammarians are now free to graft any semantic or pragmatic operator into the PS tree at any hierarchic level or serial position, regardless of where it might be found in the actual construction — as a portmanteau inflection in (27f), a morpheme in (27e), a word in (27d), a phrase in (27c) or a clause in (27a,b). With such license, it is hard to see what could constrain the grammarian from representing the semantically near-equivalent (27a–f) as syntactically identical:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

(27) a. b. c. d. e. f.

117

I think that she’ll come tomorrow It is possible that she’ll come tomorrow In all likelihood she’ll come tomorrow Maybe she’ll come tomorrow She may-come tomorrow (Quizá) venga mañana (maybe) come/subj/3sg tomorrow ‘Maybe she’ll come tomorrow’

In the same vein, pragmatic notions such as topic and focus may now be grafted into the PS tree at any desired level, regardless of their actual morpho-syntactic manifestation in a particular language. Alternatively, one might propose to graft the topic and focus ‘nodes’ into the PS tree according to the syntax of a particular language, as was suggested by Rice (1991) or Aissen (1992). But this solution lets the highly universal functional scope of pragmatic notions be obscured by the facts of morpho-syntax. Topic and focus are indeed highly relevant to syntax and exhibit strong interactions with it (see Chapters 9, 10, 13, 15, 16). But interaction does not mean identity, nor is it a sufficient ground for squeezing all features that interact in grammar into a single syntactic formalism, one that was clearly not designed to represent them.2 d.

Complex clauses Finally, one might as well note that the PS tree formalism is best suited for reflecting the syntactic structure of simple clauses, where the isomorphism between semantic and syntactic structure is most transparent. While several types of complex clause do not tamper with this isomorphism too much, many others do. Thus, of the complex clauses in (28), (28b,c) can be described by our PS tree formalism with relative ease. While (28d–h) are much less amenable to the formalism. (28) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

She gave the book to Mary She wanted to give the book to Mary The book she gave to Mary… The book was given to Mary As for the book, she gave it to Mary What did she give to Mary? Did she give the book to Mary? It’s a BOOK that she gave Mary

3.3

The classification of verbs and simple clauses

3.3.1

Dummy-subject verbs

(simple) (verb complement) (relative clause) (passive) (L-dislocation) (wh-question) (yes/no-question) (cleft-focus)

Verbs in this class code states or events involving mostly natural conditions or weather phenomena. They are clearly intransitive in that they have no object. What is more, they seem to have no other semantic participant either. One may in fact say that the state or

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event they represent is indistinct from — or is itself — the participant. Such non-distinctness is only to be expected, since the phenomena in question are not spatially localized prototypical states or events, but rather spatially diffuse. Verbs in this class often take a syntactic subject, but it most commonly turns out to be a non-prototypical dummy subject. In many languages, the ‘dummy’ is a pronoun, but one that refers to no entity in particular, and cannot be assigned a clear semantic role. It thus merely but fills a formal syntactic role.3 Syntactically, the verb phrase in dummy-subject clauses may be either adjectival (see §3.3.2 below) or verbal: (29) Adjectival dummy-subject clauses a. It’s hot (in here) b. It was cold (last summer) c. It’s so nice (here) d. It was terrible (there) Verbal dummy-subject clauses e. It rained (all over the county) f. It froze (last week) g. It was hailing (hard) In some languages, all predicates in this class are formally verbs, as is the case in Ute (UtoAztecan), where the dummy pronoun is the inanimate -ax (‘it’; Givón 1980): (30) a. ‘uwa-y-ax rain-imm-it ‘it’s raining’ b. nú =a-y-ax wind-imm-it ‘it’s windy’ c. nu =vwa-y-ax snow-imm-it ‘it’s snowing’ d. turu’ni-y-ax whirlwind-imm-it ‘it’s whirl-winding’ e. ku =turuuci-y-ax hot-imm-it ‘it’s hot’ f. su =ti-y-ax cold-imm-it ‘it’s cold’ The noun form of ‘rain’, ‘wind’ or ‘snow’ is derived in Ute by nominalization from the verbs in (30a–c), respectively:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

119

(31) ‘uwa-r(u =) ‘rain’ nú =a-r(u =) ‘wind’ nu =vu =a-r(u =) ‘snow’ In some languages, the world may be the formal dummy subject of verbs in this group, as is the case in spoken Palestinian Arabic, where ‘world’ is a feminine noun: (32) Gd-dunya tGG-shti the-world 3sg.masc-rain ‘it is raining’ (lit.: ‘the world is raining’) But the noun form denoting the condition may also be used as the dummy subject, as in: (33) a. b. c. d. e.

The rain is falling/pouring The wind is blowing/howling Snow is falling/blowing The temperature is rising The heat is stifling

A PS tree-diagram corresponding to the dummy-subject clause (29g) above, including the optional manner adverb, is given in (34) below: (34)

S

VP

Subj [NP]

Aux

V

Adv

was

hailing

hard

PRO It

Tree diagrams corresponding to adjectival dummy-subject clauses are given in the next section. 3.3.2

Copular clauses and copular verbs 3.3.2.1
Copular verbs and their predicates Semantically, copular clauses represent permanent or temporary states. Their subject occupies the semantic role of either a patient or dative of state. What is more, most of the lexical-semantic load of the predication is not carried by the copular verb itself, but rather by its non-verbal predicate — either an adjective (or adjectival phrase; AP) or a noun (or noun phrase; NP), as in: (35) a. Nominal (NP) predicate He is a (lousy) teacher b. Adjectival (AP) predicate She is (very) tall

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Syntax

The copular verb is thus often itself a dummy verb, acting as the syntactic head of the verb phrase but carrying a reduced lexical-semantic load. As we shall see further below, however, in many languages the copular verb may carry distinct grammatical features. The PS tree-diagrams representing the copular clauses in (35a,b) are given in (36) and (37) below, respectively: (36)

S

VP

Subj [NP]

Cop

Pred

NP

PRO be

He

(37)

Art

is

a

Adj

N

lousy teacher

S

VP

Subj [NP]

Cop

Pred

AP

PRO be

She

is

Adv

Adj

very

tall

3.3.2.2
Zero copulas In many languages, copular clauses may appear without their copular head verb (‘be’), at least in the present or habitual tense-aspects. But they often reappear in other tense-aspects, as in Hebrew: (38) a. Hu ra’ev ‘he is hungry’ he hungry/sm b. Hi mora ‘she is a teacher’ she teacher/sg.fem c. Hu haya ra’ev ‘he was hungry he be/past/3sg.masc hungry d. Hi ti-hye mora ‘she’ll be a teacher’ she 3sg.fem-be/fut teacher/sg.fem In some languages, the non-present/habitual tense marker can become a bound affix directly on the adjective or noun predicate. Sometimes that affix is an erstwhile copula that

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

has itself become grammaticalized, often as the tense-aspect marker. In Turkish, for example, an older verb ‘be’ may be used optionally in the present/habitual as suffix on noun or adjective predicates (Pelin Hennesy, in personal communication): (39) a. Verb: b. Adjective: c. Noun:

Ayshe uyu-yor ‘Ayshe is sleeping’ Ayshe sleep-prog Ali büyük(-tür) ‘Ali is big’ Ali big(-*be) Ayshe sekreter(-dir) ‘Ayshe is a secretary’ A. secretary(-*be)

The verbal past-tense marker is suffixed directly to both noun and adjective predicates, without a copula: (40) a. Verb: b. Adjective: c. Noun:

Ayshe uyu-du ‘Ayshe slept’ A. sleep-past Ali büyük-tü ‘Ali was big’ A. big-past Ayshe sekreter-di ‘Ayshe was a secretary’ A. secretary-past

Only in the future is a finite copular verb (‘become’) used obligatorily as the ‘head’ of the verb phrase: (41) a. Verb: b. Adjective: c. Noun:

Ayshe uyu-yacak ‘Ayshe will sleep’ A. sleep-fut Ali büyük ol-acak ‘Ali will be big’ A. big become-fut Ayshe sekreter ol-acak ‘A. will be a secretary’ A. secretary become-fut

3.3.2.3
Inherent qualities vs. temporary states As noted earlier above (Ch. 2), prototype nouns tend to code time-stable entities with durable inherent qualities. Adjectives, on the other hand, can code either noun-like durable qualities or temporary states, where they may overlap with stative verbs. Some temporary states, further, may be mental, and thus can be experienced by a human (or animate). The experiencer of such a mental state is semantically a dative. Otherwise, the subjects of copular predicates are patients or state.

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(42) example Permanent-inherent quality a.
He is tall/Irish/smart b.
The tree is tall/green/bushy c.
She is clever d.
He is an Irishman e.
She is a teacher f.
He is a crook Temporary state g.
She is angry/sad/busy h.
She suffered/meditated i.
The door was closed j.
They were lost

subject’s semantic role

pred. type

patient patient patient patient patient patient

adjective adjective adjective noun noun noun

dative dative patient patient

adjective verb adjective adjective

In some languages, two different copular verbs are used in copular clauses, one for coding permanent qualities or conditions, the other temporary states. Thus, in Spanish the copula ser must be used with predicate nouns, with adjectives denoting permanent-inherent quality, and with durable point of origin: (43) permanent-inherent qualities a.
Es profesora ‘she is a teacher’ b.
Es pintor ‘he is a painter’ c.
Es azul ‘it is blue’ d.
Es española ‘she is Spanish’ e.
Es de España

predicate type noun noun adjective adjective point of origin

The other copula, estar, is used in Spanish to code temporary states, including temporary locations and temporary verbal states (the progressive aspect), as in: (44) temporary states a.
Está muy enojado ‘s/he very angry’ b.
Está muy triste ‘s/he is very sad’ c.
Está muy caliente ‘it is very hot’ d.
Está en la casa ‘s/he is at home’ e.
Está estudiando ‘s/he is studying’

predicate type adjective adjective adjective location verbal state

Several adjectives allow both a permanent and a temporary sense, with the contrast now coded by the two copulas:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

(45) temporary state (estar) a. Está triste ‘s/he is sad’ b. Está feliz (ahora) ‘she’s happy (now)’ c. Está loco ‘he’s acting crazy’ d. Está enfermo ‘he is sick’ e. Está muy caliente ‘it’s very hot (now)’ f. Está muy ocupado ‘he’s very busy (now)’

123

permanent condition (ser) Es triste ‘s/he is a sad person’ Es feliz ‘s/he’s a happy person’ Es loco ‘he is mentally ill’ Es enfermo ‘he is an invalid’ Es muy caliente aquí ‘it’s (always) hot here’ Es muy ocupado ‘he’s a very busy person’

3.3.2.4
Referring vs. non-referring nominal predicates In all languages, a nominal predicate can perform either a referential (referring) or an attributive (non-referring) function, a topic that will be dealt with in considerable detail in Chapter 10. In English, where the difference is not fully coded by grammar, an indefinite nominal predicate can have either interpretation, depending on the context: (46) a. Attributive Context: Response: b. Referring Context: Response:

What does she do for a living? She is a teacher Who is this woman? She is a teacher I used to know.

Definite predicate nouns naturally tilt the interpretation towards the referring sense: (47) a. She is the teacher I told you about b. She is my teacher Some languages code this difference more explicitly. As an illustration consider Bemba (Bantu), in which both nominal and adjectival prefixes code the Ref/Non-Ref contrast (Givón 1972): (48) a. Attributive nominal predicate uyu-umuuntu muu-puupu this-person nonref-thief ‘this person is a thief ’ b. Attributive adjective predicate uyu-umuuntu muu-suma ‘this person is good’

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Syntax

c. Referring nominal predicate uyu-umuuntu umu-puupu ‘this person is the/a thief (I told you about)’ d. Referring adjectival predicate uyu-umuuntu umu-suma ‘this person is the/a good one (I told you about)’ 3.3.2.5
Multiple copular verbs As noted above, in Spanish two copular verbs split the predicate domain along clear semantic lines. Many other languages have two or more copular verbs, by which one means verbs that take either nominal or adjectival predicates and thus answer to the syntactic description (36) and (37) above. In English, for example, ‘get’ splits the domain roughly — but not precisely — along the same inherent vs. temporary lines as ser and estar in Spanish: (49) a. b. c. d.

He got angry/sad/busy *He got Irish/kind *She got a teacher *She got my mother

(temporary, adj) (*inherent, adj) (*inherent, nom) (*inherent, nom)

The copular verb ‘become’, on the other hand, seems as permissive as ‘be’: (50) a. b. c. d.

She became angry/sad/busy He became Irish/kind She became a teacher He became my mother

(temporary, adj) (inherent, adj) (inherent, nom) (inherent, nom)

And ‘seem’ and ‘sound’ appear to split the domain between adjectival and nominal predicates: (51) a. b. c. d.

She seems/sounds angry/sad/busy They seem/sound Irish/kind *She seems/sounds a teacher *He seems/sounds my mother

(temporary, adj) (inherent, adj) (*inherent, nom) (*inherent, nom)

3.3.2.6
Languages with no adjectives As noted earlier above (Ch. 2), some languages code all states, even inherent physical qualities, as verbs, as does Toposa (Nilotic; Ch. 2, 2.6.2). Other languages split the timestability scale into two coherent segments, with temporary states coded as verbs and inherent qualities as adjectives. This can be seen in Ute (Uto-Aztecan; Givón 1980): (52) Temporary states (verbs) a. naghami-y ‘(s/he) is ill/sick’ sick-imm b. nasötaay-’ay ‘(s/he) is sad’ sad-imm

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

c. suwaay-kya ‘(s/he) is happy’ happy-perf d. naay-’ay ‘(s/he) is angry’ angry-imm e. togho-yi-n ‘I am well’ well-imm-I (53) Inherent qualities (adjectives) a. saa-gha-r(u =) ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is white’ white-have-nom be-imm b. sigu =-ka-r(u =) ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is sour’ sour-have-nom be-imm c. payu-gwa-r(u =) ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is soft’ soft-have-nom be-imm d. ‘avat(u =) ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is big’ big/nom be-imm e. miipu =-c(i) ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is small’ small/nom-nom be-imm f. ‘iyapu =-ni ’ura-’ay ‘(it/inan) is ugly’ ugly/nom-adj be-imm 3.3.3

Simple intransitive verbs Verbs in this class may code either states, events or actions. Their subject may be either an agent, patient or dative. Typical examples are: (54) Agent subject (action verb) a. He worked (hard) b. She sang/danced (for an hour) c. She walked (around) d. They spoke (eloquently) e. He urinated (on the sand) (55) Dative subject (mental-state verb) a. She meditated (on the porch) b. He suffered (quietly) c. She dreamed (for hours) (56) Patient-of-state subject (state verb) a. He slept (for two hours) b. It stood/lay/sat (there) (57) Patient-of-change subject (process verb) a. She fell/slipped/died/grew up b. It grew/broke/dried up/heated up The syntactic structure of simple intransitive clauses is illustrated in tree diagram (58):

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Syntax

(58)

3.3.4

S Subj [NP]

VP

PRO

V

She

fell

Simple transitive verbs 3.3.4.1
Transitivity: A recapitulation As noted above (§3.1.5), prototypical transitive verbs — and clauses — conform to both the semantic prototype of transitive event and the syntactic prototype of transitive clause, reproduced below: (9) Semantic prototype of transitive event a. Agentivity: Having a deliberate, active agent. b. Affectedness: Having a concrete, affected patient. c. Perfectivity: Involving a bounded, terminated, fast-changing event in real time. (10) Syntactic prototype of transitive clause Clauses and verbs that have a direct object are syntactically transitive. All others are syntactically intransitive. We also noted that languages tend to abide, at least in simple clauses, by a constraint on mapping between semantic and syntactic transitivity: (11) Prototypical mapping between semantic and syntactic transitivity When the simple clause codes a semantically transitive event (9), the event’s agent will be the clause’s subject, and the event’s patient the clause’s direct object (10). While the prototypes (9) and (10) are indeed valid in all languages, and while the bulk of syntactically transitive verbs in most languages indeed abide by mapping constraint (11), languages nonetheless differ enormously in how closely they adhere to mapping constraint (11). That is, in how rigid or lax they may be in allowing non-agents to be the subjects of syntactically-transitive verbs, and non-patient to be their direct objects. Part of the cross-language variation is predicted by case-making typology, and will be discussed in some detail in Chapter 4. But considerable variation can be already seen among nominative languages, among whom English is probably as permissive in flouting constraint (11) as can be found. The procedure we will follow here is to present prototype transitive verbs first, then show various deviations from the prototypes. That is, verbs with non-agent subjects or non-patient objects.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.3.4.2
Prototypical transitive verbs The various sub-types of prototypical transitive verbs classify the types of change undergone by the patient-object. Some verbs denote physical creation of an object where none existed before, as in: (59) a. b. c. d.

He built a house She painted a picture He made a coffee table She drew a sketch of the bridge

Others denote the physical destruction of a previously-existing object, as in: (60) a. b. c. d.

They demolished the house She smashed the glass He carefully evaporated the solvent She gobbled up her breakfast

Others denote a considerable change in the object’s physical condition, as in: (61) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

She cracked/broke the pot He enlarged the living-room They chopped wood He baled the hay She cut her hair They bent the front bumper He twisted his ankle They killed two prisoners

Some transitive verbs may denote a change in the object’s physical location, as in: (62) a. b. c. d. f.

They moved the barn She shifted her leg He dropped the ball She gathered the acorns They scattered the sheep

Others may denote changes in the surface conditions of the object, as in: (63) a. b. c. d.

He washed his shirt She bleached her hair They painted the walls He sanded the floors

Others yet may denote a change in some less visible internal qualities of the objects, as in: (64) a. He heated up a cup of soup b. She chilled the gaspacho c. They magnetized the door

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Syntax

Some prototypical transitive verbs, in addition to the change affecting the patient-object, also involve an incorporated manner sense, as in: (65) a. b. c. d.

She murdered him He smashed the glass They shredded the documents He wolfed his dinner

(kill deliberately) (break completely) (tear into small pieces) (eat ravenously)

Others denote, in addition to the change, an incorporated instrument sense, as in: (66) a. b. c. d.

She knifed him They hooked a huge shark He elbowed the guy ahead She slapped him

(stab with a knife) (catch with a hook) (hit with the elbow) (hit with the palm)

Others may denote an incorporated location sense, as in: (67) a. She housed them all winter b. He bagged the apple c. They imprisoned them

(keep in the house) (put in a bag) (put them in prison)

The syntactic structure of transitive verbs with a subject and direct object may be given as the tree diagram in (68) below, representing (61h) above: (68)

S

VP

Subj [NP]

Obj [NP]

V

PRO

They

killed

Num

N

two

prisoners

3.3.4.3
Less prototypical transitive verbs As suggested earlier, English is rather promiscuous in allowing many verbs that do not conform to the semantic prototype of transitive event (9) to nevertheless assume the syntactic structure of the prototype transitive clauses (10), i.e. the structure of (68). Such laxity is not totally capricious, and may be viewed as various metaphoric extensions of the prototype of semantically transitive event in terms of either the agent or patient. In this section we will discuss some of the more common sub-types. a.

Dative-subject verbs The agent-subject of the prototype transitive verb is both conscious (having volition) and active (initiating the event). Dative subjects, on the other hand, are conscious participants in the event without either intending or actively initiating it.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

By making a dative participant the subject of a syntactically-transitive verb, one makes it appear as if it is somehow more active, more involved or more responsible. In other words, it is made to metaphorically resemble an agent. Typical transitive verbs with a dative subject are: (69) a. b. c. d. e. f.

He saw her She felt no remorse They heard the music She understood the problem They know the answer He wanted two oranges

One consequence of this seemingly innocent metaphoric extension can be shown in extending the use of such verbs to contexts where the subject seems to be considered responsible for initiating action. The following expressions, for example, are all framed in contexts which suggest that the dative-subject somehow has the control or choice of a real agent: (70) a. b. c. d. e. f.

You better see her first thing in the morning! Feel the energy radiating through you! She better hear what I have to say! You must understand this! You better know the answer before you get there! You have to want it real hard to really get it!

Another feature of dative-subject verbs, as in (69), (70), is that their object is also the lessprototypical patient of state, rather than the prototype patient of change. It is neither physically affected, nor undergoes a change, and is often abstract (cf. ‘music’, ‘problem’, ‘answer’, ‘remorse’). What is more, the dative-subject verb is most commonly a state verb. Downgrading one aspect of the transitive prototype seems, at least in this case, to invite — or at least coincide with — tampering with the others. b.

Dative-object verbs The patient of the prototype transitive event, typically concrete and visibly affected patient, may be metaphorically extended toward a dative participant, whose involvement in events is typically mental rather than physical. Making a dative the syntactic object of the clause somehow makes it appear more visibly affected, thus metaphorically more patient-like. Typical transitive verbs with dative objects are: (71) a. They insulted her (> producing visible agitation) b. She spoils him rotten (> his overt behavior shows it) c. He amused them (> they roared in laughter) d. She shocked them (> they froze in visible disbelief)

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Syntax

e. She entertained the crowd (> they applauded wildly) f. He taught them by example (> they emulated him) (> they demonstrated proficiency) c.

Patient-subject/cause with dative object The very same dative-object verbs in (71) may be used to further extend the transitivesubject prototype. In (71) their subjects are deliberate human agents. But their subject can also be a non-human cause, thus a patient of state, as in: (72) a. b. c. d. e. f.

The offer insulted him This knowledge spoiled his appetite The idea amused him The new regulations shocked everybody The joke entertained them for hours The accident taught them a harsh lesson

The last metaphoric extension, from agent-causer to patient-cause, may also be found in metaphoric extensions of more prototypical transitive verbs: (73) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i.

The epidemic attacked the entire village Curiosity killed the cat Hard work finally broke his back His bad luck broke his will to live The beer quenched her thirst Her faith saved her Deep doubts assailed him The idea struck him as insane Panic drove them away

Again, the metaphoric extension of the transitive-subject prototype — from agent to patient — is accompanied by relaxation of the transitive-object prototype, in that the objects in (73) are not prototypical patients. d.

Instruments as transitive subjects A variant of the metaphoric pattern in (73) involves letting an instrument take the subject position of a prototypical transitive verb. The agent — user of the instrument — is not mentioned even when it may have clearly existed: (74) a. The hammer smashed the window (> She smashed the window with the hammer) b. Her fist hit him full force (> She hit him full force with her fist) c. Penicillin finally cured them (> The doctors cured them with penicillin) d. The bomb killed seventeen civilians (> The terrorists killed them with the bomb)

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

The effect — intended or inadvertent — of placing the instrument in the subject position is to shield the unspecified agent from responsibility for the event. By virtue of a subtle inference, the instrument occupying the subject position of a prototypical transitive verb acquires the semantic aura of an agent. e.

Goal or source locatives as direct-objects Some syntactically-transitive verbs extend the patient-object prototype to a locative participant, one that is ordinarily coded as indirect object in the simple clause. By metaphoric extension, the locative object becomes patient-like, appearing to be more affected by the event: (75) a. She approached the house (> She moved toward the house) b. She swam the channel (> She swam across the channel) c. They entered the house (> They went into the house) d. He rode the horse (> He sat on the horse) e. They breached the walls (> The moved through the walls) f. They penetrated the fort (> They moved into the fort) g. She escaped him (> She escaped from him) h. They deserted her (> The moved away from her) i. She left him (> She moved away from him) When one rides a horse (75d), the horse is controlled, dominated, affected. When one sits on a horse, the horse is merely a location. In breaching a wall (75e) one punctures it in the face of resistance. Moving through the wall carries no such connotations. By penetrating a fort (75f) one violates it against resistance. The mere movement into a fort carries no such connotations. In escaping someone (75g) one overcomes their resistance, not merely move away from them. Deserting a person (75h) may leave them distraught and helpless, while merely moving away may not. f.

Verbs with associative direct objects Some non-prototypical transitive verbs involve the extension of patient-object prototype to an associative participant, i.e. to a co-agent of what is, strictly speaking, a reciprocal event (see Chapter 13). The semantic effect of such extension is to downgrade the associative object from co-agent to, metaphorically, affected patient. In the process, the agent-subject is upgraded from co-agent to sole responsible agent. As illustrations, consider: (76) a. He met Sylvia (in the garden) (vs. He met with her, and she with him)

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b. She fought him (to a draw) (vs. She fought with him, and he with her) c. He joined her (for lunch) (vs. He joined with her, and she with him) g.

Verbs with incorporated patients Some non-prototypical transitive verbs involve an implied patient whose sense is somehow ‘incorporated’ into the meaning of the verb. The overt object in such cases is often the location vis-a-vis which the implied patient moves. This non-prototypical object somehow assumes patient-like affectedness. As illustrations, consider: (77) a. He fed the cows (> He gave food to the cows) b. She stoked the furnace (> She put wood in the furnace) c. They irrigated/watered the orchard (> They brought water to the orchard) d. They harvested the field (> They removed the crops from the field) e. She dusted the table (> She removed the dust from table) f. They robbed her (> They took things from her) g. He painted the wall (> He spread paint on the wall) h.

Verbs with cognate objects Some verbs extend the patient-object prototype towards an abstract product, activity, or mental event. By inference, the object metaphorically assumes the properties of a physically-created patient. Such metaphoric created objects are called cognate objects, since often they are nominalized forms of the verb, or at least of its implicit sense. And that implicit sense is often that of an intransitive event. Thus consider: (78) a. She sang a song (> She sang; her singing = a song) b. They danced the rumba (> They danced; their dancing = the rumba) c. He gave a brief speech (> He spoke; his speaking = his speech) d. She uttered a sharp cry (> She cried; her crying = a cry) e. They gave a great performance (They performed; their performing = a performance) f. He made an abrupt decision (He decided abruptly; his deciding = a decision)

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

g. She gave the signal (She signalled; her signalling = the signal) h. He took the oath of office (He swore; his swearing = the oath) i. She gave him a kiss (She kissed him; her kissing = a kiss) By objectivizing the intransitive activity one somehow endows it with patient-like properties, viewing it as the event’s product. In the process, ‘song’, ‘dance’, ‘speech’, ‘cry’, ‘performance’, ‘decision’, ‘signal’, ‘oath’ or ‘kiss’ may be captured on paper, tape or film and thus objectivized as patients. The activity that is objectivized may also be a transitory spatial motion, as in: (79) a. They made a sharp turn (> They turned sharply; their turning = a turn) b. She took a leap (> She leaped; her leaping = a leap) c. He made a circle around them (> He circled around them; his circling = a circle) d. She took a plunge (She plunged; her plunging = a plunge) Similarly, the verb may code a mental event whose objectivized metaphoric patient is rather abstract: (80) a. I made an error (I erred; my erring = an error) b. She made a suggestion that… (> She suggested that…; her suggestion c. I had an idea (> I thought; my thinking = an idea) d. He made a last-ditch attempt (> He tried; his trying = an attempt) e. She took a calculated risk (> She risked…; her risking = a risk) f. They made a promise (> They promised; their promising = a promise) g. She gave it some thought (> She thought about it; her thinking = a thought) h. He tendered his resignation (> He resigned; his resigning = his resignation) i. They took a break (> They broke; their breaking = a break) j. She never gave a hint (She never hinted; her hinting = a hint)

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i.

Verbs of possession In many languages, ownership or possession is coded with a transitive verb such as ‘have’. Since possession is a state rather than an event, with neither a typical agent nor a typical patient, transitive ‘have’ verbs clearly break the prototype. Most commonly, such verb are derived historically from prototypical transitive verbs such as ‘take’, ‘grab’, ‘seize’, ‘hold’, or ‘obtain’. In the course of the derivation, the implicit end result of taking possession — having possession — becomes the core meaning of the verb. In other words, the change seems to be driven by the inference:

•
If one has taken possession, one has possession. The semantic scope of possession verbs may vary widely from one language to the next, with English being predictably rather permissive: (81) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

She has a big house They have two children We had a beautiful relationship I’ve got something to tell you He had a date with Destiny I got an idea Their house has three bedrooms This problem has no easy solution

Many languages distinguish between inherent (‘inalienable’) and incidental (‘alienable’) possession. Thus in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), two ‘have’ constructions exist. In the one that codes inherent (‘inalienable’) possession, the verb ‘have’ has grammaticalized as a suffix on the possessed noun, often on the bare noun-stem, as in (Givón 1980): (82) Intimate (inherent) possession (suffix -ga-) a. kwasi-gya-t(u =) ‘s/he has a tail’; ‘the Devil’ tail-have-nom b. möchö-kwa-t(u =) ‘he has a mustache’; ‘a bearded man’ mustache-have-nom c. puwa-gha-t(u =) ‘s/he has medicine Power’; ‘medicine-man’ power-have-nom d. piwa-gha-t(u =) ‘s/he has a spouse’; ‘a married person’ spouse-have-nom e. tua-ci-gya-t(u =) ‘s/he has children’ child-obj-pl-have-nom f. wii-ci-gya-t(u =) ‘he has a (personal) knife’ knife-obj-have-nom g. puku-gwa-t(u =) ‘s/he has a (personal) horse’; ‘a horseman’ horse-have-nom h. kani-gya-t(u =) ‘she has a (personal) house’; ‘a homeowner’ house-have-nom

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

In the construction that codes incidental (‘alienable’) possession, the etymologicallyrelated verb ‘have’ is still an independent verb, and the possessed noun retains its suffix. Thus compare: (83) Incidental possession (verb ‘aga-) a. panaqa-ru = ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he has money’ money-obj have-nom b. wii-ci ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he owns (many) knives’ knife-obj have-nom c. kava-yu ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he owns (many) horses’ horse-pl have-nom d. kani ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he owns (many) houses’ house/obj have-nom e. kwasi-vi ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he owns (detached) tails’ tail-obj have-nom f. puwa-vu = ’aagha-t(u =) ‘s/he owns lots of medicine’ power-obj have-nom In addition to transitive possession constructions, many languages have syntactically intransitive possession construction, of two types. In the first type, the core verb in the clause is ‘be’, the grammatical subject is the possessed noun, and the possessor is marked as a dative. Such a possessed subject can then control the pronominal subject agreement on the verb, as is the case in Hebrew in non-present tenses: (84) a. le-Yo’av yesh bayit gadol to-Yoav be/pres house big ‘Yoav has a big house’ b. hay-a l-a bayit gadol be/past-1sg.masc to-her house big ‘she had a big house’ c. hay-u l-a kama batim be/past-3pl to-her some houses ‘she had several houses’ One must note, however, the tendency in the colloquial language to re-analyze the possessed noun back to direct object, as is apparent in (85) below, where the plural possessed noun takes the definite-accusative (object) prefix, the verb agrees with the inappropriate neutral third-person-singular, while the possessor is still marked as a dative: (85) lo hay-a l-a et-ha-sfarim ha-’ele neg be/past-1sg.masc to-her acc-the-books the-those ‘she didn’t have those books’ The second type of intransitive possession construction, also headed by the verb ‘be’, is found in Bantu languages. Here the possessor is coded as the subject and the possessed as an associative indirect object, as in Bemba (Givón 1972):

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(86) a. n-di no-omuana I-be with-child b. u-li na-abaana you-be with-children c. a-li ne-ecitabo s/he-be with-book d. tu-li ne-efitabo we-be with-books

‘I have a child’ ‘you have children’ ‘s/he has a book’ ‘we have books’

3.3.4.4
Transitivity and unspecified objects As noted above, some languages can code many verbs with a non-prototypical patient as syntactically transitive. But the converse is also possible. That is, many semanticallytransitive verbs that normally take a patient object can be used — in appropriate discourse contexts — without their object, thus becoming syntactically intransitive. In most such cases, a patient is in some sense implicit, but is either stereotypical, habitual, predictable, non-referring or unimportant. This pattern will be discussed in further detail under the label of antipassive (Chapter 13). As illustrations, consider: (87) a. They ate (early) (> Obj = food) b. She drinks (too much) (> Obj = liquor) c. They hunted (for two weeks) (> Obj = game animals) d. He traps (every winter) (> Obj = animals) e. She drove (too fast) (> Obj = her car) f. He plowed all day (Obj = field) g. He used to teach (at the highschool) (> Obj = some subject matter) (> IO = to the students) h. She preached in the street (> Obj = the Gospel) (> IO = to people) i. We gave at the office (> Obj = money) (> IO = to some charity) 3.3.5

Intransitive verbs with an indirect object Verbs in this group take a subject and an indirect object, with the latter most commonly marked by an adposition. They may be further divided into a number of semantic subtypes, not all of which fall into the same syntactic type in all languages.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.3.5.1
The prototype: Verbs with a locative indirect object Verbs in this sub-group are in some sense the prototype of intransitive verbs with an indirect object. Their subject is either an agent or a patient, and their indirect-object is a locative. Some of these verbs code events of motion, where the subject moves toward or away from the locative object. Others code states of location, whereby the subject is at, on, under, in, outside, in front of, or behind the locative object. The locative object is thus the spatial reference point vis-a-vis which the subject either moves (event) or is located (state). We have already noted that verbs belonging to this group semantically may be coded syntactically as transitive (§3.3.4.3). When they belong syntactically in this group, their object is most commonly case-marked with an adposition, affix or inflection that specifies the locative-object’s exact semantic role. Typical examples of motion event-verbs in this class, with agent subjects, are: (88) Events of spatial motion a. She walked into the yard b. He came from Buffalo c. She arrived at the house d. They went to the market e. It jumped over the fence f. She slid under the couch g. They ran up/down the street h. He swam across the river i. They climbed up the slope j. She descended down the ladder Typical examples of stative verbs of being in location are: (89) States of spatial location a. The book is on/under/behind/in front of the table b. She is at/inside/out/near the house c. They sat on/under/behind/in front of the couch d. She lay on/under/inside/next to/away from the box e. He stood on top of/next to/inside the house f. They remained in the state g. It floated on the water Locative case-marking morphemes may be semantically rich, as in English, coding a wealth of spatial and directional information. But they may also be semantically impoverished (bleached), leaving the verb itself to carry much of the specific spatial information. As an illustration, consider the four verbs ‘come’ and ‘go’ in Bemba (Bantu; Givón 1972): (90) a. a-a-ya ku-mushi s/he-past-go.to loc-village ‘s/he went to the village’

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Syntax

b. a-a-shya ku-mushi s/he-past-go.from loc-village ‘s/he went from the village’ c. a-a-isa ku-mushi s/he-past-come.to loc-village ‘s/he came to the village’ d. a-a-fuma ku-mushi s/he-past-come.from loc-village ‘s/he came from the village’ There are indeed languages with scant or no nominal case-marking. In such languages, all information about the semantic role of the indirect object is coded in the verbal word, either as part of the verb-stem meaning, or by specific affixes. As an example of such an extreme case, consider Machiguenga (Campa Arawak), were only one nominal case-marker exists, a semantically-bleached locative suffix. Machiguenga is a verb–subject–object (VSO) language with obligatory subject pronominal agreement on the verb, by a prefix. Object pronominal agreement, by a suffix, is optional and depends on whether the object is topical (thus the direct object) or not. Thus consider (Betty Snell, in personal communication): (91) a. Intransitive (no DO) impogini i-kam-ana-i o-ime then 3masc-die-dir-real 3fem-husband ‘then her husband died’ b. Transitive (topical patient = DO) i-ma-ig-an-ak-a-ro-tyo o-tineri iroro-ri 3masc-do.same-pl-dir-perf-tr-3fem-exc 3fem-son.in.law her-conj ‘her son-in-law treated her the same way and’ c. Intransitive (non-topical patient) i-aga-vage-t-i-ra o-tineri i-vatsa 3masc-get-dur-ep-real-sub 3fem-son-in-law 3masc/cl-meat ‘when her son-in-law got meat’ d. Transitive (topical Assoc = DO) o-mag-imo-t-a-i-ri o-tineri 3fem-sleep-assoc-ep-hab-real-3masc 3fem-son.in.law ‘she was living with her son-in-law’ e. Intransitive (non-topical Assoc) o-mag-imo-ig-a-i o-ishinto 3fem-sleep-assoc-pl-hab-real 3fem-daughter ‘she was living with her daughters’ f.

Transitive (topical Dat = DO) o-gi-ako-t-ak-e-ri o-tineri 3fem-wait-dat-ep-perf-ep-3masc 3fem-son.in.law ‘she waited for her son-in-law’

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

g. Intransitive (no DO) o-gi-ak-i anta 3fem-wait-perf-real there ‘she waited there’ h. Transitive (topical Dat = DO) o-netsa-ako-vage-t-ak-i-ro o-shinto 3fem-yearn-dat-cont-ep-perf-real-3fem 3fem-daughter ‘she was yearning for her daughter’ i.

Intransitive (non-topical Dat; no DO) o-netsa-ako-vage-t-ak-i kamona 3fem-yearn-dat-cont-ep-perf-real chonta.palm ‘she was yearning for some chonta-palm’

j.

Locative (no DO) o-a-t-i anta kaara-se-ku 3fem-go.to-ep-real there garbage-dens-loc ‘she went to the garbage dump’

k. Locative (no DO) o-pok-i kaara-se-ku 3fem-come.to-real garbage-dens-loc ‘she came to the garbage dump’ l.

Locative (no DO) no-m-mag-ak-e-tyo anta kaara-se 1-irr-sleep-real-ep-excl there garbage-dens ‘I’ll lived at the garbage dump’

m. Bi-transitive (topical Dat = obligatory DO) o-m-p-u-t-e-na no-shinto kamona 3fem-irr-give-dir-ep-irr-1 1-daughter chonta.palm ‘my daughters may give me chonta-palm’ With all this kept in mind, we will for the moment go along with the clearly outdated convention that the syntactic structure of clauses such as (88) and (89) involves a prepositional phrase (PP) in the indirect object slot. Given what we have just seen in Machiguenga, as well as our earlier general discussion (§3.2.2), we know that the difference between direct and indirect object need not be a matter of case-marking morphology (see also Chapter 4, §4.3.4). Still, for (88d):

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(92)

S

VP

Subj [NP]

V

P

PRO

They

IO [PP]

went

to

NP Art

N

the

market

3.3.5.2
Verbs with dative or patient indirect object Verbs in this sub-group take an indirect object, and thus fit the syntactic frame (92). Semantically, however, they diverge from the locative indirect-object prototype. This semantic departure may again be viewed as a metaphoric extension of the locative prototype. Many verbs in this sub-group involve mental activity, with the subject being either an agent or a dative, and the object either dative or patient. Marking such objects with a directional-locative case marking somehow makes it possible to construe them metaphorically as spatial target — or source — of the subject’s metaphoric motion. The moving entity, however, is not the subject itself but rather the subject’s voice, vision, attention, feelings or thoughts. As illustrations, consider: (93) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

She looked at him He listened to her/the music They thought/knew/talked/learned about him She was angry/disappointed/mad at him He shouted/screamed at him They talked to her I’ll attend to that She heard from him last night

The metaphoric sense of motion involved in constructions such as (93) can be shown by contrasting two pairs of semantically related verbs, respectively: (94) a. b. c. d.

She saw him She looked at him She heard him She listened to him

Verbs such as see and hear code states. Their subject is a conscious dative, not an active agent. Whatever moves, however metaphorically (light, sounds), moves from the object to the subject. In contrast, verbs such as look at and listen to code events. Their subject is an active agent, and whatever moves — visual or auditory attention — is more aptly construed as moving from the agent-subject to the object.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.3.5.3
Verbs with an associative indirect object Some syntactically intransitive verbs code reciprocal events, where the subject is an agent and the indirect object an associative co-agent. Quite often, these verbs may take two other patterns: transitive pattern with the associative as direct object; •
A
A • reciprocal pattern with the two participants conjoined as co-subjects. Thus consider: (95) a. Intransitive: Mary fought with her mother b. Transitive: Mary fought her mother c. Conjoined: Mary and her mother fought (each other) (96) a. Intransitive: Bill met with John b. Transitive: Bill met John c. Conjoined: Bill and John met (each other) (97) a. Intransitive: Susan joined with Bill (in the project) b. Transitive: Susan joined Bill (for lunch) c. Conjoined: Susan and Bill joined (together) Some potentially-reciprocal verbs may prefer one syntactic pattern over the other, as in the case with embrace and kiss in English: (98) a. b. c. d. e. f. 3.3.6

Intransitive:*Mary embraced with John Transitive: Mary embraced John Conjoined: Mary and John embraced Intransitive:*Mary kissed with John Transitive: Mary kissed John Conjoined: Mary and John kissed

Bi-transitive verbs 3.3.6.1
Preamble Bi-transitive verbs code events with three obligatory participants, one taking the role of syntactic subject, the other two of objects. Of the two objects, one assumes the syntactic role of direct object, the other of indirect object, although a certain amount of crosslanguage variation sometimes obscures this. The subject of bi-transitive verbs is typically an agent, and one of the objects most commonly a patient. Bi-transitive verbs thus conform, in the main, to our transitive prototype, although metaphoric extensions of various kinds are possible and indeed are common. The indirect object of bi-transitive verbs may code a variety of semantic roles, whose classification is highly predictive of the bi-transitive verb’s syntactic behavior. Unfortunately, we are not yet in the position to enter into much of the syntactic detail here, which presupposes a more systematic treatment of grammatical relations and, in particular, of direct objecthood. These issues will be treated more explicitly in Chapter 4 (§4.5).

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3.3.6.2
The bi-transitive prototype: Locative indirect object Verbs in this sub-group code events in which a deliberate agent (the subject) causes the movement of the patient (direct object) to or from some location (indirect object). Typical examples are: (99) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

He put the book on the table She sent the merchandise to the store They took the book off the shelf They removed him from the premises She brought the horse into the barn He poured the water out of the cup They carries her across the river She planted the seedlings in the ground

The syntactic structure of such bi-transitive clauses is given in the tree-diagram (100) below, representing (99a): (100)

S

VP

Subj [NP]

Obj [NP]

V

Art

PRO

He

put

the

IO [PP]

N

P

book

on

NP Art

N

the

table

3.3.6.3
Dative-Benefactive objects Bi-transitive verbs in this group code events in which one object is a dative or benefactive participant, the other a patient that moves to or from the dative-benefactive. Since the event itself is often an abstract metaphor on physical motion, the patient is often also more abstract and metaphoric. Some verbs in this group retain the sense of concrete motion — transfer — to or from a location. Diachronically, these verbs may have well been the metaphoric bridge that made the further extension from the locative prototype possible. In many languages, verbs in this group show a systematic alternation of direct-object assignment between the patient and the dative-benefactive, a variation less likely in the bitransitive locative prototype: (101) a. She gave the book to him b. She gave him a book c. She sent the book to him

(DO = patient) (DO = dative) (DO = patient)

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l.

She sent him the book They brought the message to her They brought her a message He shipped the books to her He shipped her two books He took the food to her He took her some food She sold the house to them She sold them a house

143

(DO = dative) (DO = patient) (DO = dative) (DO = patient) (DO = dative) (DO = patient) (DO = dative) (DO = patient) (DO = dative)

The variant construction with dative DO (101b,d,f,h,j,l) is often referred to as dativeshifted. But some verbs superficially in this group do not show it, and thus seem to behave — at least in English — like the bi-transitive locative prototype. For example, verbs coding transfer from the dative object allow no such variation in English: (102) a. b. c. d. e. f.

She received a book from him *She received him a book She took the book from him *She took him a book He bought the house from them *He bought them a house

Example (102d) is perfectly acceptable, but it can only be interpreted as motion to (as in (101j)), but not as the paraphrase of (102c). Likewise, (102f) is perfectly acceptable with a goal dative-benefactive sense, but not with a source sense. Physical transfer verbs such as ‘send’ or ‘take’ can only show the dative-shifted variant if their locational goal is human. With a non-human goal, they revert to the locative prototype of put. Thus compare: (103) a. b. c. d. e. f.

She sent the box to the store *She sent it the box She took the hay to the barn *She took it the hay He put the book on the table *He put it a book

The more abstract verbs in this group readily show the dative-shifted variant, as in: (104) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

He told the story to his son He told him a story She showed the house to him She showed him the house They taught French to their children They taught them French He promised the car to her He promised her a car

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Syntax

i. j. k. l.

She did a favor for him She did him a favor They asked a question of him They asked him a question

In many languages, the verbs in (104), as well as all others in this group that require a human goal, can only appear in the dative-shifted construction. That is, the dativebenefactive is obligatorily their direct object. As an illustration, consider Lunda-Ndembu (Bantu; Kawasha 1999): (105) a. n-e-enka mwaana mukaanda I-past-give child book ‘I gave the child a book’ b. n-a-mw-inka mukaana I-past-him/her-give book ‘I gave him/her a book’ c. *n-e-enka mukaanda mwaana I-past-give book child (*‘I gave a book to the child’) d. *n-a-w-inka mwaana I-past-it-give child (*‘I gave it to the child’) e. n-a-mw-inka-wu n-past-him/her-give-it ‘I gave it to him/her’ f. *n-a-w-inka-yi I-past-it-give-him/her The very same restriction is shown when a simple transitive verb takes an optional benefactive object: (106) a. n-a-teleka mbutu I-past-cook seeds ‘I cooked the seeds’ b. n-a-telek-ila mwana mbutu I-past-cook-ben child seeds ‘I cooked the child some seeds’ c. *n-a-telek-ela mbutu mwana I-past-cook-ben seeds child (*‘I cooked the seeds for the child’) d. n-a-mu-telekk-ela mbutu I-past-him/her-cook-ben seeds ‘I cooked him/her some seeds’ e. *n-a-zhi-telek-ela mwana I-past-them-cook-ben child (*‘I cooked them for the child’)

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

f.

n-a-mu-telekek-ela-zhu I-past-him/her-cook-ben-it ‘I cooked them for him’ g. *n-a-zhi-telek-ela-yi I-past-them-cook-ben-him In contrast, prototype bi-transitive verbs with locative objects, such as put, allow no dativeshifting. And verbs like send or carry behave like put when their object is a non-human locative, as in: (107) Non-human location a. n-a-twala mbutu ku-mukala I-past-take seeds loc-village ‘I took the seeds to the village’ b. n-a-zhi-twala ku-mukala I-past-them-took loc-village ‘I took them to the village’ c. *n-a-twala-ku mbutu I-past-take-loc seeds (*‘I took there the/some seeds’) d. (mbutu,) n-a-zhi-twala-ku (seeds,) I-past-them-take-loc ‘(the seeds,) I took them there’ e. *n-a-ku-twala-zhu I-past-there-take-them (*‘I took there them’) When the goal-object is a human recipient, on the other hand, dative shifting is a viable option, but requires the same benefactive verb suffix as in (106): (108) Human recipient a. n-a-twala mbutu kudi-taata I-past-take seeds loc/hum-father ‘I took the seeds to my father’ b. n-a-zhi-twala kudi-taata I-past-them-take loc/hum-father ‘I took them to my father’ c. *n-a-mu-twala mbutu I-past-him-take seeds d. n-a-twal-ila taata mbutu I-past-take-ben father seeds ‘I took father some seeds’ e. *n-a-twal-ile mbutu taata I-past-take-ben seeds father

145

146

Syntax

f.

n-a-mu-twal-ila mbutu I-past-him-take-ben seeds ‘I took him some seeds’ g. *n-a-zhi-twal-ila taata I-past-them-take-ben father (*‘I took them my father’) h. n-a-mu-twal-ila-zhu I-past-him-take-ben-them ‘I took him some of them’ i. *n-a-zhi-twal-ila-yi I-past-them-take-ben-him (*‘I took them to him’) The variant structures with the dative-benefactive as indirect object share the same syntactic structure as (100) above. The dative-shifted variants, in both English and Lunda, must be characterized as: S

(109)

VP

Subj [NP]

V

Obj [NP]

IO [NP]

PRO

She

gave

PRO

Art

N

him

a

book

Dative-shifted constructions make it clear once again that case-making morphology is not by itself a determining factor in characterizing an object syntactically as either direct or indirect. 3.3.6.4
Alternating instrumental-locative objects Bi-transitive verbs of this sub-group have one locative and one instrumental object. In English, these verbs are often paired, and then code semantically near-identical events. One member of the pair takes the instrumental as its indirect object and the locative as direct. The other shows the reverse pattern, with the locative as indirect object and the instrumental as direct. Thus consider:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

(110) locative io a.
put/pour x into y b.
take x out of y c.
put/spread x on y d.
take x from y e.
steal x from y e.
give x to y f.
wrap/tie x around y g.
place x around y h.
stick/thrust x into y i.
spray x on y

instrumental io fill y with x empty y of x cover y with x deprive y of x rob y of x supply y with x wrap/tie y with x surround y with x stab/pierce y with x spray y with x

In other languages, this alternation is found without any verb alternation. As an illustration of this, consider Bemba (Bantu; Givón 1972): (111) a. n-a-cimine ifumo mu-muti I-past-stick spear in-tree ‘I stuck the spear in the tree’ b. n-a-cimine umuti ne-efumo I-past-pierce tree with-spear ‘I pierced the tree with the spear’ c. n-a-kaka insalu ku-lukasa lwaakwe I-wrap cloth loc-foot his ‘I wrapped the cloth around his foot’ d. n-a-kaka ulukasa lwaakwe ne-ensala I-past-wrap foot his with-cloth ‘I wrapped his foot with cloth’ e. n-a-kupa insalu pa-nshi I-past-spread cloth on-ground ‘I spread the cloth on the ground’ f. n-a-kupa inshi ne-ensalu I-past-cover ground with-cloth ‘I covered the ground with cloth’ g. n-a-loonga ameenshi mu-mupika I-past-pour water in-put ‘I poured the water into the pot’ h. n-a-loonga umupika na-ameenshi I-past-fill pot with-water ‘I filled the pot with water’ While the paired variants in (110) and (111) seem to code virtually the same physical events, they code it from two different perspectives. Semantically first, the participant coded as direct object is somehow viewed as more affected, thus more like the prototype patient. This can be illustrated with the alternation in:

147

148

Syntax

(112) a. She sprayed the paint on the wall b. She sprayed the wall with paint Variant (112a) implies that all the paint was used up, but not necessarily the entire wall painted. The direct object paint is thus construed as being more thoroughly affected. In contrast, variant (112b) implies that the entire wall was painted, but not necessarily all the paint used up. The direct object wall is now construed as more affected. Pragmatically too, the participant coded as direct object tends to be more topical than the one coded as indirect object. This may be illustrated by adding some context to (112a,b), thus topicalizing either one object or the other: (113) a. Context: What did you do with the paint? (i) I sprayed it on the wall. (ii) ?I sprayed the wall with it. b. Context: What did you do to the wall? (i) I sprayed it with paint. (ii) ?I sprayed the paint on it. 3.3.6.5
Verbs with two apparent direct objects As noted above, the fact that two objects are similarly marked (or unmarked) by morphology does not, of itself, make both direct (or indirect) objects. Word order, pronominal agreement and other grammatical criteria (see Chapter 4) commonly tag only one of them as the direct object. In (114) below, for example, the semantic role of the second object seems to be that of a predicate noun: (114) a. They elected Mary President (> to be the President) b. They appointed Mary Chair (> to be the Chair) c. They consider this man their chief (> to be their chief) d. She deemed her marriage a fiasco (> to be a fiasco) Of the two morphologically-unmarked apparent objects in (114), only the first can be made an anaphoric pronoun: (115) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

They elected her President *They elected him/it Mary They appointed her Chair *They appointed him/it Mary They consider him their chief *They consider him/it this man She deemed it a fiasco *She deemed it her marriage

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

Likewise, only the first object can be made the subject of a passive clause: (116) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

Mary was elected President *The President was elected Mary Mary was appointed Chair *The chair was appointed Mary This man was considered their chief *Their chief was considered this man Her marriage was deemed a fiasco *A fiasco was deemed her marriage

3.3.6.6
Three-object verbs? A number of verbs, all coding transactions or exchange events, seem to have three semantically-obligatory objects: The transferred patient, most commonly the syntactic direct object; a human-dative source or goal; and the exchange commodity. Both of the latter can be marked syntactically as indirect objects, although the goal object may be made the direct object via dative-shifting: (117) a. He bought the book from Mary for five dollars b. They sold the house to Jane for peanuts (They sold her the house for peanuts) c. She traded her old Honda to Joe for his Chevy (She traded him her Honda for his Chevy) In actual usage, these verbs most commonly appear with only one of their indirect objects. That is, as syntactically bi-transitive verbs: (118) a. She bought the book for five dollars b. She bought a book from Joe c. She bought a book for her daughter 3.3.7

Verbs with clausal (verbal) complements The syntax and semantics of verbs that take a clause — thus another predicate — as their complement will be treated in considerable detail in Chapter 12. At this juncture, we will divide these verbs into their major semantic and syntactic sub-types. 3.3.7.1
Modality verbs Modality verbs form a coherent group, both in terms of the range of meanings they code and their syntactic structure. Semantically, the group as a whole may be characterized as: (119) Semantic characterization of modality verbs a. The complement clause is semantically a proposition, coding a state or an event. b. The subject of the main clause is co-referent to — i.e. refers to the same discourse entity as — the subject of the complement clause.

149

150

Syntax

c. The main verb codes either inception, termination, persistence, success, failure, attempt, intent, obligation or ability — by the subject of the main clause — to perform the action or be in the state that is depicted in the complement clause. Syntactically, modality verbs may be characterized as: (120) Syntactic characterization of modality verbs a. The co-referent subject of the complement clause is left unexpressed (zero). b. The complement-clause verb may appear, in many languages, in an infinitive or nominalized form (see Chapter 12), commonly lacking any tense, aspect, modality or pronominal (agreement) morphology. c. The complement clause tends to appear in the characteristic object position, and is normally packed under the same intonation contour with the main clause. As a prototypical modality verb, consider want: (121) Mary wanted to leave the house complement The complex construction in (121) harbors, at least implicitly, two separate clauses, each with its implicit event/state proposition and argument structure: (122) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Main clause: Complement clause: Combination: Main clause: Complement clause: Combination:

Mary wanted [Comp] Mary leave(s) the house Mary wanted to leave the house Marvin finished [Comp] Marvin do(es) the dishes Marvin finished doing the dishes

The syntactic structure of (121) is given in the tree-diagram: (123)

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Comp [S] Subj [NP]

Name

VP V

Obj [NP] Art

Mary

wanted

[Ø]

to-leave the

N house

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

Modality verbs may be further divided into two major semantic sub-groups: attitude: volition, intent, attempt, ability, necessity, probability; •
Modal
Aspectuality: initiation, duration, achievement, termination. • Modal attitudes may be further divided into positive and negative ones: (124) a. Positive modal attitude want, intend, plan, hope, expect, decide, agree, try, can/could, must, shall/ should, may/might b. Negative modal attitude refused, be afraid, be reluctant Aspectual verbs may be divided into a number of semantic sub-groups: (125) a. b. c. d. e.

Initiation: start, begin, commence Duration: continue, persist, go on, keep doing, be doing Termination: finish, stop Success: succeed, manage, remember, be able Failure: fail, avoid, decline, forget, shirk

Most of the verbs of modal attitude (124) fall into a non-implicative logical pattern (Karttunen 1971), whereby the truth of the main clause does not necessarily imply the truth of the complement clause: (126) a. Mary wanted to leave … / Mary left b. Mary was reluctant to leave … / Mary didn’t leave In contrast, most aspectual verbs fall into an implicative logical pattern, where the truth of the main clause does imply the truth of its complement:4 (127) a. b. c. d. e.

She started working … She worked She continued to work … She worked She finished working … She has worked He managed to leave … He left They failed to arrive … They didn’t arrive

3.3.7.2
Manipulation verbs Manipulation verbs form a coherent group both semantically and syntactically. They may be defined semantically as: (128) Semantic definition of manipulation verbs a. The main clause has a human agent that manipulates the behavior of another human, the manipulee. b. The agent of the complement clause is co-referential with the manipulee of the main clause. c. The complement clause codes the target event to be performed by the manipulee.

151

152

Syntax

Syntactically, manipulation verbs may be defined as: (129) Syntactic definition of manipulation verbs a. The agent of the main clause is the subject. b. The manipulee of the main clause is either the direct object or indirect object. c. The manipulee is also the coreferent-subject of the complement clause, where it is left unexpressed (zero). d. The complement-clause verb often appear in a non-finite or nominalized form, lacking any tense, aspect, modality or pronominal agreement morphology. The entire complex clause — main clause and its complement — again harbors, at least implicitly, two separate clauses, each with its implicit event/state proposition and argument structure: (130) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Main clause: Complement clause: Combination: Main clause: Complement clause: Combination:

She told John [Comp] John leave(s) the house She told John to leave the house He made Mary [Comp] Mary do(es) the dishes He made Mary do the dishes

A tree-diagram of the syntactic structure of the complex clause (130c) is given in: (131)

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Obj [NP]

Comp [S] Subj [NP]

PRO Name

VP V

NP Art

She

told

John

[Ø]

to-leave the

N house

Manipulation verbs are further sub-divided according to their semantic properties. (132) a. Successful manipulation cause, make, have, force, trick, help, let, persuade, enable, tempt b. Successful prevention prevent, block, stop, dissuade, scare out of, talk out of c. Attempted manipulation tell, order, permit, allow, ask, suggest, encourage, beg, want, expect

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

153

d. Attempted prevention forbid, tell not to, enjoin from Verbs of successful manipulation are logically implicative, in that the truth of the main clause implies the truth of its complement: (133) a. She made him leave … He left b. She prevented him from leaving … He didn’t leave Verbs of attempted manipulation, on the other hand, are logically non-implicative, in that the truth of the main clause does not necessarily imply the truth of its complement: (134) a. He told her to leave … / She left b. He forbade her to leave … / She didn’t leave 3.3.7.3
Perception, cognition or utterance (PCU) verbs 3.3.7.3.1
General characteristics. The subject of verbs in this important group either perceives or cognizes a state or event, or utter a proposition concerning a state or event. The perceived, cognized or uttered proposition is coded in the complement clause. The complement clause thus functions, in a way, as the object of the mental or verbal activity depicted in the main-clause, although there are good syntactic reasons for not assigning it the direct-object role (see Chapter 12). The semantic definition of PCU verbs is: (135) Semantic definition of PCU verbs a. The verb in the main clause codes either a mental state or event (perception, cognition) or a verbal act (utterance). b. The subject of the verb is either a dative or agent. c. The complement-clause state or event is the object of the main-clause state or event. The syntactic definition of PCU verbs is: (136) Syntactic definition of PCU verbs a. No co-reference restrictions hold between the subject or object of the main and the subject of the complement clause. b. The complement clause is more likely to have the normal finite structure of a main clause (no zero subject). c. The subordinate clause may be preceded by a subordinator morpheme. Typical examples of constructions with PCU verbs and their clausal complements are: (137) main a.
Perception: She saw b.
Cognition: He knew c.
Utterance: The say

complement (that) she was leaving (that) she had done it (that) she’s going to recover

154

Syntax

The syntactic structure of such complex clauses is given in the tree-diagram (138) below, corresponding to (137b): (138)

S Subj [NP]

VP V

Comp [S]

PRO

He

knew

(that) she had done it

In terms of their logical properties, PCU verbs may be further divided into factive and nonfactive verbs. Factive verbs are those whose complement is true when the main clause is either true or false (positive-factive); or false when the main clause is either true or false (negative-factive). Thus compare (Karttunen 1971): (139) Positive-factive a. She knew that John loved her (… John loved her) b. She didn’t know that John loved her (… John loved her) Negative-factive c. He pretended that he knew her (… He didn’t know her) d. He didn’t pretend that he knew her (… He didn’t know her) Non-factive verbs, on the other hand, carry no such presupposition. That is: (140) a. She thought that he was a liar (… / He was a liar) b. She didn’t think that he was a liar (… / He wasn’t a liar) The most common verbs (or verb senses) in the various logical sub-groups are: (141) a. Factive (i) Positive: know, understand, learn, find out, see, remember, forget, regret, be aware (ii) Negative: pretend, lie b. Non-factive (i) Positive: think, believe, guess, suspect, suppose, assume, be sure, hope, decide, wish, agree, hear, feel, say, claim, ask, demand, hope, expect (ii) Negative: doubt, wonder, be afraid, deny

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

PCU verbs can be further divided into those that carry a purely epistemic modality, i.e. code various shades of truth, knowledge, belief or certainty; and those that carry a deontic modality, i.e. code preference or valuation. While factive verbs tend to carry mostly an epistemic modality, non-factive verbs may carry either: (142) a. Epistemic: think, doubt, believe, guess, suspect, assume, be sure, decide, hear, feel, say, claim, ask, agree, suppose, wonder, deny, (expect) b. Deontic: wish, hope, be afraid, demand, (expect) Finally, one may as well note that the perception verbs in this group — see, hear, feel — do not necessarily code direct sensory perception, but often mental inference or indirect perception. This may bee seen by comparing two types of complements, one of direct perception (143a,c,e), the other of inference or indirect perception (143b,d,f ): (143) a. b. c. d. e. f.

She saw him leaving the store She saw that he had left the store He heard her singing in the garden He heard that she was singing in the garden She felt his constant rudeness She felt that he was constantly rude

3.3.7.3.2
Direct-quote complements. The complements of PCU verbs described above were all of the indirect-quote type. However, utterance verbs can — and in many languages indeed must — take direct-quote complements. The contrast between the two types may be seen in: (144) a. Indirect quote She said (that) she wasn’t sure. b. Direct quote She said: “I’m not sure”. Predictably, direct quote complements (144b) constitute a more verbatim rendition of the quoted speech, with the speaker-quoter taking more responsibility — and legal culpability — for the exact form of the quotation, often including mimicry and gestures. Somewhat paradoxically, while taking responsibility for the exact form, the speaker also disclaims responsibility for the contents of the direct-quoted information. In contrast, indirect quotes such as (144a) are much more heavily edited by the speaker, and are not meant to represent the exact form of the quoted speech. They thus display more of the quoter’s interpretation of the quoted information. While not taking great responsibility for the form of the indirectly-quoted speech, the speaker now takes more responsibility for its contents. The difference in responsibility for the contents of the quoted information is highlighted by the anchoring of deictic operators such as speaker-hearer pronouns, demonstrative and deictic adverbs. Those placed inside a direct-quote complement are indexed to the main-verb’s subject. Those inside indirect-quote complements are indexed to the speaker. Thus compare:

155

156

Syntax

(145) a. Mary said: “I hate you!” (I = Mary; you = Mary’s interlocutor) b. Mary said that I hated you (I = me; you = my interlocutor) c. Joe said: “She’s not here, she’s there!” (here = near Joe; there = away from Joe) d. Joe said that she’s not here but there (here = near me; there = away from me) e. Mary said: “I’d rather have this one than that one” (this = near Mary; that = away from Mary) f. Mary said that she’s rather have this one than that one (this = near me; that = away from me) g. Joe said: “I wanted it then, not now!” (then = before Joe’s speech-time; now = at Joe’s speech time) h. Joe said that he didn’t want it then but rather now (then = before my speech time; now = at my speech time) There are cogent reasons for suspecting that direct-quote complements should not be described as syntactically embedded, but we will not pursue the issue here. 3.3.7.3.3
Embedded questions as complements. A sub-set of PCU verbs can also take embedded question complements, in addition to the declarative complements described above. They seem to be mostly epistemic verbs of lower certainty, although their exact semantic characterization is not exhausted by this observation. The two sub-types of such complements correspond to the two main question types, yes/no-questions and wh-questions (Chapter 17). Embedded yes/no-question complements may be better described as embedded conditional clauses (Chapter 18), which in many languages differ syntactically from yes/noquestions. Thus in English, yes/no-questions exhibit word-order inversion (or the use of the auxiliary do), but embedded yes/no-question complements don’t: (146) Embedded yes/no-question (conditional) complements a. She didn’t know if it was going to work b. He doubted if it would pass c. I wonder whether she is still there d. I’m not sure if they really did that Corresponding yes/no-questions e. Was it going to work? f. Will it pass? g. Is she still there? h. Did they really do that? wh-question complements indeed resemble wh-questions, but at least in English they differ syntactically, again in terms of word-order and the auxiliary do:

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

157

(147) Embedded wh-question complements a. I didn’t know who did it b. She wasn’t sure who he saw c. Do you remember where she was? d. I forget when she is supposed to come Corresponding yes/no-questions e. Who did it? f. Who did he see? g. Where was she? h. When is she supposed to come? 3.3.7.3.4
Information verbs. A number of PCU verbs, all seemingly utterance or communication verbs such as tell, inform, ask, convince, persuade or lie to, can take a dative direct or indirect object in addition to their clausal complement, as in: (148) a. b. c. d. e.

She told him (that) she was leaving He informed her (that) she lost her job They didn’t tell him why it happened She asked him whether he was ready to quit They didn’t tell him who did it

The syntactic structure of such clauses is given in the tree-diagram (149), representing (148a) above: S

(149) Subj [NP]

VP V

Obj [NP]

told

him

PRO

She

Comp [S]

(that) she was leaving

3.3.7.4
Verbs with clausal subjects A number of predicates, both verbs and adjectives, may take an event or state proposition as their clausal subject. Being abstract and inanimate, the clausal subject must be considered as a semantic patient of state. The clausal subject may appear syntactically as a fullfledged clause in the characteristic subject position, or in the position normally reserved for clausal complements. When the second pattern appears, a dummy pronoun most commonly occupies the syntactic subject position, one that should be considered as co-referential with the clausal complement. These constructions may be further divided into intransitive and transitive ones.

158

Syntax

3.3.7.4.1
Intransitive clausal-subject constructions. The predicates in this group are semantically stative and syntactically intransitive. In English, most of them are lexical adjectives, and may be further sub-divided into three semantic sub-classes: (150) a. Epistemic:

be true, be false, be likely, be improbable, be incredible, be expected, seem, appear, sound b. Evaluative: be nice, be good, be terrible, be terrific, be shocking c. Difficulty: be difficult, be easy, be impossible

Quite often, a dative-experiencer participant is implicit in these constructions, one that is responsible for the epistemic or evaluative judgement. In the case of the epistemic and evaluative predicates, that implicit participant is usually the speaker. And their clausal complements are full-fledged finite clauses, of the same general form as complements of PCU verbs. That is: (151) Epistemic a. That he did it is incredible (to me) b. It is incredible (to me) that he did it Evaluative c. That you came is nice (for me) d. It is nice (for me) that you came The PS tree-diagrams representing the two syntactic variants, for (151a) and (151b), are given in (152) and (153) below, respectively: (152)

S Subj [NP]

VP Cop

Adj

be That he did it

(153)

incredible

is S

Subj [NP]

VP Cop

PRO

It

Adj

Comp [S]

be is

incredible

that he did it

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

159

In the case of difficulty predicates, the implicit dative participant is semantically the agent of the clausal subject. That subject may be either the speaker or a generic ‘one’, in which case it is most commonly left unexpressed. But it can also be, and often is, a specific third party. In which case it is explicitly coded either in the complement-clause itself or elsewhere in the construction. Thus compare: (154) Implicit speaker/generic subject a. To do it is easy (for me/one) b. It is easy to do it (for me/one) Explicit specific subject c. For her to do it was easy d. It was easy for her to do it The co-reference condition in such constructions, whether implicit or explicit, makes their complement clauses resemble more the non-finite complements of modality or manipulation verbs. The tree-diagrams representing such structures are given in (155) and (156) below, corresponding to (154a) and (154b), respectively: (155)

S Subj [S]

VP Cop

Adj

be For her to do it

(156)

easy

is S

Subj [NP]

VP Cop

PRO

It

Adj

Comp [S]

easy

for her to do it

be was

3.3.7.4.2
Transitive clausal-subject constructions. Semantically, the verbs in this group tend to have a dative direct object, thus one that is mentally affected by the state or event in the clausal subject. Verbs in this class express either epistemic or evaluative (deontic) attitudes: (157) a. Epistemic: surprise b. Evaluative: shock, horrify, please, disappoint, gratify Two syntactic patterns are again possible here, with the clausal subject appearing either as the syntactic subject or the complement, as in:

160

Syntax

(158) a. Clausal subject That she did it shocked him b. Clausal complement It shocked him that she did it The tree-diagrams representing the two alternative patterns in (158a) and (158b) are given in (159) and (160) below, respectively: (159)

S Subj [S]

VP V

Obj [NP] PRO

That she did it

(160)

him

shocked S

Subj [NP]

VP V

Obj [NP]

Comp [S]

shocked

him

that she did it

PRO

It

One may as well note, lastly, that for both the intransitive and transitive verbs with a semantic clausal subject, most languages allow only the complement syntactic pattern. This preference may be illustrated in Swahili (Bantu), where verbs in this class are regularly derived with the stative suffix -ikana: (161) a. Clausal complement y-a-wez-ekana kuwa Juma a-li-kufa it-hab-can-stat sub Juma s/he-past-die ‘It is possible that Juma died’ b. Clausal subject *kuwa Juma a-li-kufa y-a-wez-ekana sub Juma s/he-past-die it-hab-can-stat 3.3.8

Multiple membership in verb classes Quite a few verbs can belong to more than one semantic — thus also syntactic — verbclass. Such multiple membership is often systematic, in the sense that many verbs may

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

reveal the same multiple membership pattern. For example, tell or ask may be either simple transitive verbs like kill, manipulation verbs like force, or information verbs. That is: (162) a. Transitive: b. Manipulation: c. Informative:

She told him a story She told him to bug off She told him that his timing was off

Similarly, know or say may be either simple transitive verbs or a PCU verbs, as in: (163) a. Transitive: b. Utterance:

He said his prayers He said that there was no juice left

Likewise, forget or remember may either be simple transitive verbs, intransitive with an indirect object, modality verb, or PCU verbs. Respectively: (164) a. b. c. d.

Transitive: Intransitive: Modality: Cognition:

She forgot her husband She forgot about dinner She forgot to cook dinner She forgot that dinner was at nine

Similarly, ‘want/wish’ may be either a simple transitive verb, a modality verb, a manipulation verb or a cognition verb. Respectively: (165) a. b. c. b.

Transitive: Modality: Manipulation: Cognition:

He wanted a new car He wanted to leave He wanted her to leave He wished that she would leave

The gist of this discussion is that semantic and syntactic characterization is not assigned to the verb as a sequence of sounds, but rather to a particular sense of the verb. And verbs, like other words, may be polysemous, and their various senses may be systematically related.

3.4

Optional participant case-roles Most verbal clause-types, both transitive and intransitive, can take, in addition to their obligatory participants, also some optional arguments. Most commonly, these are added as indirect objects, but at least one of them commonly claims the direct-object slot, displacing the obligatory patient. The most commonly found optional participant roles are, first with intransitive verbs: (166) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Benefactive: Instrument: Associative: Manner: Locative: Temporal:

He works for his uncle She ran with Nike shoes He escaped with his brother She ate like a pig He smoked in the kitchen She slept during the day

161

162

Syntax

And with intransitive verbs: (167) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Benefactive: Instrument: Associative: Manner: Locative: Temporal:

He washed two shirts for her She chopped wood with an old axe He managed the ranch with his sister They finished supper in a hurry She killed him in the barn He met her at noon

There are strong grounds for suspecting that at least four types of optional case-roles — benefactive, instrumental, associative and manner — are verb-phrase constituents, although we will not review the argument in detail here. In contrast, optional locatives and temporals are most likely clause-level constituents. Indeed, optional locatives and temporals can be contrasted with obligatory locative and temporal objects, which presumably are VP constituents: (168) VP constituent (no fronting) a. She went to Mexico b. *To Mexico, she went S constituent (fronting OK) c. She chased butterflies in Mexico d. In Mexico, she chased butterflies VP constituent (no fronting) e. They waited the whole of Tuesday looking for her f. *The whole of Tuesday, they wasted looking for her S constituent (fronting OK) g. They kept looking for her on Tuesday h. On Tuesday, they kept looking for her At least in some languages, optional benefactive, instrumental, associative and manner participant can be optionally coded as — or ‘promoted to’ — the direct object syntactic role. Further, in most languages optional benefactives undergo such ‘promotion’ obligatorily, as seen for Lunda-Ndembu (§3.3.6.3). We will return to this topic in Chapter 4.

3.5

Distributed lexical verbs So far we have restricted ourselves in this chapter to discussing clause types in which a single verb (or predicate) carries the bulk of the functional load of coding the event’s semantic type, although the load is obviously shared by the case-marking morphology. But in many languages, the verb’s functional load is shared by two or more lexical morphemes. Some of these are either synchronically or diachronically other verbs. Others may be nouns, adjective, adverbs, adpositions or even ideophonic sounds. In some languages, or in some instances in the same language, these extra lexical verbaugmenting elements are distributed as words or constructions across the clause. In other

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

languages or instances, they are distributed — or incorporated — across the verbal word, joining there the (sometime historic) verb stem. And there are excellent grounds for suggesting that the second type arose diachronically from the first, via either grammaticalization or lexicalization, often in that order. Distributed verbs of either kind represent a considerable analytic headache for both the semantic and syntactic analysis of clausal grammar. In the course of protracted historical re-analysis, both their syntactic and semantic status often become murky. The semantic and syntactic constraints on their combinations become chaotic and unpredictable. And the matching between semantic and syntactic predication classes likewise becomes opaque. In this section we will survey briefly some of the major types of distributive verbal clauses, often referred to as complex predicates, without attempting to resolve the theoretical havoc they almost always leave in their wake. 3.5.1

Complex predicates distributed across the clause 3.5.1.1
Serial verb constructions Serial verb constructions in some languages seem like an alternative mechanism for coding the semantic roles of various objects (see also Chapter 4, §4.6). This pattern can be seen in many Kwa (Niger-Congo) languages, as in (Givón 1975a): (169) a. iywi awa utsi iku (patient; Yatye) boy took door shut ‘the boy shut the door’ b. mo fi ade ge naka (instrument; Yoruba) I took machete cut wood ‘I cut the wood with the machete’ c. o fi ogbon ge igi (manner; Yoruba) he took cleverness cut tree ‘he cleverly cut the tree’ d. mo so fun o (dative; Yoruba) I say give you ‘I said to you’ e. nam utom emi ni mi (benefactive; Efik) do work this give me ‘Do this work for me!’ f. o gbara gaa ahya (locative; Igbo) he ran go market ‘He ran to the market’ But in many languages serial verb constructions may have a much wider semantic scope. Thus Kalam (Papua-New Guinea) has only about 95 lexical verb stems. Consequently, many conventional events must be coded by various serial-verb combinations, some of them fairly fixed, others assembled for the occasion. Thus consider (Givón 1991c):

163

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Syntax

(170) a. tuw band dand sand-ip axe piece carry leave-perf/3sg ‘he carries the axe away’ b. mon kamb ak d-ap ay-ip wood heap def take-come put-perf/3sg ‘he brings it over to the wood-pile’ c. gok ak tapin timb rik-sap those def too chop cut-pres/3sg ‘he’s cutting those (pieces) too’ d. kongay nep timb rik tip pang yok-sap much very chop cut chop break throw-pres/3sg ‘he’s chopping and cutting and throwing much more’ e. mon tip pang kom moch g-ip wood chop break roll crush do-perf/3sg ‘he cuts and chops and rolls and crushes the wood’ f. mon d-angiy-ek yin-imb wood take-light-rpast/se/ds/3sg burn-perf/3sg ‘she lights the wood’ (lit.: ‘she takes & lights the wood & it burns’) g. wong ak yim-ek ar-an-jap… garden def plant/rpast/3sg/ds/3sg rise-grow-pres/3sg ‘he is planting (his) garden’ (lit.: ‘he’s planting the garden & it rises & grows’) Many serial-verb combinations have become so stable, recurrent and predictable, that adjacent verbs sooner or later co-lexicalize. The tail end of such co-lexicalization may be seen in Mandarin Chinese, where erstwhile serial two-verb combinations have become lexical verb-compounds (Thompson 1973): (171) a. ta la-kai le men s/he pull-open perf door ‘s/he opened the door’ b. ta chi-bao le fan s/he eat-full perf rice ‘s/he gorged himself on rice’ c. ta sha-shi le ren s/he kill-die perf person ‘s/he killed someone’ d. ta yun-zou le fan s/he ship-go perf rice ‘s/he shipped the rice’ e. ta ya-bian le s/he press-flat perf ‘s/he flattened (it)’

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.5.1.2
Cognate object constructions Cognate object constructions have already been noted above (§3.3.4.3) in the context of off-prototype direct objects. But such constructions also represent a widespread type of multiple predicates distributed over the clause. A relatively small group of verbs seem to head these constructions, followed by a nominalized verb, a noun, an adjective, an adverb or even an exclamation. A few of these combinations in English are: (172) a. Give: give a speech/talk/lecture/demonstration/performance, give a hint, give it a thought, give a kiss, give a signal, give a break, give chase, give a try, give a shot b. Put: put an end, put some thought into, put one’s mind to, put some effort into, put a question to, put to a vote, put to flight/sleep/work/good use, put in a good word for, put a question to c. Make: make a decision/effort/attempt/try/decision/error/ suggestion/ mistake/promise/pass, made a turn/ circle/top/start, make do without, make haste, make believe, make the grade, make good time, make eyes at, make a joke, make sense d. Pay: pay attention, pay heed, pay ones respect, pay a visit e. Throw: throw a fit/party/question/suggestion/curve f. Take: take an oath/break/leap/plunge/turn/look/leak/crap/ risk, take heart, take stock of, take time to, take care of, take sick, take effect, take a stand g. Have: have a feast/ball/party/cry/laugh/doubt/idea/pity, have a problem, have a second thought have lunch, have a meeting h. Get: get busy/mad/sad/happy/wild/corny/old/young (etc.), get going, get on in years, get along with, get to the point i. Do: do justice to, do…out of, do good, do injury, do a disservice, do a service, do a favor, do a show, do a song, do without j. Go: go nuts/mad/hungry, go well with, go too far, go fifty-fifty on the deal, go to a lot of trouble, go against the grain, go back on one’s word, go off like a rocket, go kapow!, go bang!, go dutch, k. Come: come clean/loose/true, come to an understanding, come into blows, come to a halt, come along, come to think/believe/understand/know/realize l. Stand/stay: stand accused/guilty/tall/corrected, stand to gain/loose, stand trial, stand one’s ground, stand to reason, stand close scrutiny, stay put/healthy/alive/active/alert/in touch m. Turn/become: turn yellow/green/white/red/blue/hostile n. Utterance verbs: utter a cry/curse, say a prayer/blessing, cry uncle, talk sense into, talk rubbish, sing the praise of While such compound expressions are often referred to as idioms, they nonetheless represent the type of distributed verbal constructions that in other languages, where this is a more massive phenomenon, goes under the label of complex predicates. Their syntactic pattern in English is, at least in one respect, rather consistent: Only the main verb is finite and acts as the head of the verb phrase. The added predicates bear no finite verbal morphology.

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Syntax

3.5.1.3
Co-verb constructions In Wagiman (Australia), only 45 so-called light verbs can head the verbal constructions, take a full range of finite verbal morphology, and code states or events without any added predicates. They form a small, closed lexical class. The list of light verbs in Wagiman includes all the verbs found in cognate-verb constructions in English. Those are italicized below (Wilson 1999): (173) hit, eat, stand, come, cut, take, put, get, turn/become, burn, step on, be, become, hear, throw, spear, cry, go, bite, cook, dream, cause, name/beget, leave/go, lose, make, tell lies, have/keep, follow, sew, love oneself, fuck, chase, see, give, fear, look for, bring, tell off, sing, stay The bulk of events/states in Wagiman are coded by combining one or more non-finite coverbs with at least one light verb. Semantically, a co-verb may be an intransitive state verb (‘be sick’), an intransitive event verb (‘swell’), an intransitive motion verb (‘run’), a communication verb (‘talk’), a bodily function verb (‘yawn’), a transitive verb of impact (‘kick’) or possession (‘hold’), a bi-transitive transfer verb (‘pour’), an environmental phenomena verb (‘thunder’), or a manner adverb (‘quickly’). The co-verb class is large and wide open, and they can take one semantically-bleached ‘aspectual’ suffix and a number of derivational suffixes. Some typical examples are, with the light-verb italicized (Wilson 1999): (174) a. liri-ma nga-ya-naggi munybaban swim-asp I-go-past other.side ‘I swam to the other side’ b. bewh-ma nga-bu-ni boran cross-asp I-hit-past river ‘I crossed the river’ c. guk-ga nga-ge-na gahan warri-buga? sleep-asp I-put-past that child-pl ‘did you put the children to sleep?’ d. ngarrmen lem du-ng hollow.log be/prfv 3sg/cut-past/prfv ‘it entered the hollow log’ e. gabarn-na wek-ga ga-ra-n quickly-asp swallow-asp 3sg-throw-past/prfv ‘he swallowed it quickly’ For the moment, it is not clear whether co-verb constructions in Wagiman are syntactically all that distinct from serial verb constructions elsewhere (§3.5.1.1 above). Thus, for example, the most common serial verbs cross-linguistically — take, give, go, come, make/do, carry, put, say — are also the most common ‘light verbs’ (and cognate verbs).

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

3.5.1.4
Ideophone constructions In So. Bantu languages, hundreds of complex predicates may be built by combining a single light verb — say/do — with ideophones that carry a large variety of meaning, quite a few of them manner adverbial. Many ideophones are derived by suffixation from known verb stems. Others are clearly onomatopoeic sounds, and many are of undetermined origin. The light verb say/do is the only finite verb in the ideophonic clause. The ideophones themselves carry no verbal morphology. As a scant illustration, consider (Tswana; Cole 1955): (175) a. dithupa dine ts-arobega ts-a-re kgothu kgothu stick those they-broke they-past-say id id ‘the sticks broke going “snap” “snap”’ b. (ona) a-ntse a-re na na na (he) he-walking he-say id id id ‘(he) walking very softly’ c. pula e-ne entse e-re gwaa rain it-fall on.ground it-say id ‘the rain fell heavily’ d. ba-bo-tsaya ba-bo-re goro fafa-tse they-it-pour.out they-it-say id on-ground ‘they poured it down on the ground’ e. logadima lono lo-gaketse lo-re lai lai lightning that it-fierce it-say id id ‘the lightning was fierce, flashing repeatedly’ f. mme rraagwe a-mo-tshwaara a-mo-re thusu thusu thusu kamoretlwa father his he-him-caught he-him-say id id id stick ‘his father caught him and hit him swish swish swish with a stick’ g. yo-le a-didimala fela a-re tuu she-be she-quiet complete she-say id ‘she said nothing, keeping very quiet’ 3.5.2

Multiple stems distributed across the verbal word As noted above, multiple predicates distributed over a single clause have a high potential for co-lexicalizing into a single verbal word. In this section we will note briefly some of the better known patterns of such co-lexicalization, noting whenever possible the diachronic mechanism responsible for the rise of such patterns. 3.5.2.1
Incorporated objects, instruments and adverbs It was noted earlier (Ch. 2, §2.5.3.1.j) that objects, instruments and manner adverbs can incorporate into verbs. It was also noted (Ch. 2, §2.7.2.2) that such a process can give rise, over time, to discontinuous verb stems, where the old stem and the incorporated element each contribute its share to the overall state or event sense. The example of incorporated instrumental prefixes in No. Paiute, given earlier, is reproduced below (Thornes 1996):

167

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Syntax

(176) a. ka-tu =-pongosa ma-tabui-na (ma- ‘hand’) acc-poss-arrow hand-create-asp ‘(they) hand-made their arrows’ b. tu =-tama-ma o-gu =-pada-na (gu =- ‘bite’) poss-teeth-instr 3-bite-bend-asp ‘(they) bend it by biting with their teeth’ c. i-kaazi to-noyoi (to- ‘fist’) my-car fist-move ‘(you) push my car’ d. du =-gu-hani (gu- ‘fire’) my/asp-fire-prepare ‘(s/he) cooks for me’ e. ta-hani (ta- ‘foot’) foot-prepare ‘herd (sheep/cattle)’ f. ku-pi-suki (ku- ‘fire’, pi- ‘back’) fire-back-warm ‘warm one’s back at the fire’ g. pa-ko-ma-ma’i (pa- ‘water’, ko- ‘face’, ma- ‘hand’) water-face-hand-wash ‘wash one’s face’ h. tsa-noyoi (tsa- ‘grasp’) grasp-move ‘pull’ i. i-giki-kuba wi-ni-u (wi- ‘long’) my-foot-on long-step-asp ‘(s/he) stepped on my foot’ j. kosso-kimaba a-tsi-kwini-ki (tsi- ‘sharp’) fire-beside ??-sharp-stand/pl-asp ‘stick (the sticks) along the fire’ In many Hokan-Penutian languages of western North America, elements coding spatial direction or motion have also been incorporated into compound verbs, forming scores — sometime over a hundred — augmenting affixes, with meanings such as (Delancey 1999b): (177) southward, hither from the hill, upriver, into an enclosure, downhill, down over an edge, into water, across water, into water-hole, into container, out of water, onto a vertical surface, around in a circle, around all over, off, away, through, etc. (Washo; Jacobsen 1980) up against, to the shore, on the head/ hair, around, embracing, closing, on the buttocks, alongside, on coals, roasting, through a tube, on the male genitals, by the fire, downhill, into a socket, upward, over, etc. (Klamath; Delancey 1999a) While many of the affixes involved are too old to determine their etymology, it is most likely that they have been derived from incorporation — of nouns, adjectives or verbs — into formerly-simple verbs.

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

169

3.5.2.2
The Athabaskan ‘adverbial’ prefixes In Athabaskan languages, the lexical sense of the verb is obtained compositionally from combinations of old verb stems with ‘adverbial’ prefixes that may have begun their life as verbs, then grammaticalized as post-positions, and eventually incorporated into the verbal word (Underriner 1997; Givón 2000). As an illustration of many of those with a single verb, consider an example from Tolowa Athabaskan, involving the oldest of those prefixes (-na‘motion’) augmented by more recent ones (Bommelyn 1997): (178) a. na-ł-da mov-l-run b. waa-na-ł-da c. yaa-ł-da d. daa-na-ł-da e. k’wee-na-ł-da f. tr’ee-na-ł-da g. see-na-ł-da h. tee-na-ł-da i. yee-na-ł-da j. ch’aa-ł-mu =s k. łee-na-y’-ł-da l. ł-ch’aa-na-ł-da m. taa-na-ł-da n. ’ee-na-ł-da o. k’wu =t-na-ł-da p. ts’ee-na-ł-da q. gee-na-ł-da r. xaa-na-ł-da

‘s/he runs’

(-na ‘move around’)

‘s/e runs that-a-way’ ‘s/he runs through (it)’ ‘s/he runs into (it)’ ‘s/he is running behind (it)’ ‘s/he runs down’ ‘s/he runs up’ ‘s/he runs under water’ ‘s/he runs under (it)’ ‘s/he runs off (road)’ ‘we-2 run together’ ‘s/he runs apart’ ‘s/he runs outward’ ‘s/he runs in a circle’ ‘s/he runs upon (it)’ ‘she runs out there’ ‘s/he runs away’ ‘s/he begins to run’

(-wa ‘go’) (-ya ‘go’) (-da ‘sit/live’)

(-ch’a ‘leave’) (ł- reciprocal) (-ta ‘push away’)

(-xa ‘lift up’)

3.5.2.3
Incorporated case markers In some languages, the incorporation of adpositions into the verb is a diachronically recent and still ongoing process, so that the governing mechanism can be still observed. One such case in Rama (Chibchan) is described by Craig and Hale (1987), where post-positional phrases, coding various indirect objects, can either follow the verb or precede it. When they precede the verb, the object noun may be zeroed out, in the context of either pronominal anaphora (Chapter 9) or stereotypicality (antipassive; Chapter 13). The remaining postposition, sitting adjacent to the verb, then incorporates as a verbal prefix. (179) a. ngang an-tangi Juan-ya bed they-gave John-dat ‘they gave the beds to John’ b. ngang Juan-ya an-tangi bed John-dat they-gave ‘they gave John a bed’

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Syntax

c. Rama ya-an-tangi Rama dat-they-gave ‘they gave (it) to some Rama person’ d. ngang ya-an-tangi bed dat-they-gave ‘they gave him a bed’ The footprints of the very same process are found all over Germanic and Romance languages, where prepositions have been incorporated as prefixes into verbs, presumably under a similar typological (SOV word-order) and functional (zeroed indirect-object) conditions as in Rama. Thus consider (with the suggested old stem meanings): (180) ‘close’

‘hold’

‘build’

‘call’

‘press’

in-clude ex-clude pre-clude con-clude pre-clude

main-tain ob-tain de-tain re-tain per-tain con-tain at-tain enter-tain abs-tain

con-struct de-struct in-struct ob-struct

ex-claim de-claim re-claim pro-claim ac-claim dis-claim

ex-press im-press de-press re-press com-press op-press

‘carry’

‘bend’

‘pull’

‘breathe’

‘form’

‘throw’

com-port ex-port im-port de-port re-port

ex-tend in-tend con-tend dis-tend at-tend

ex-tract de-tract re-tract con-tract at-tract

in-spire ex-spire re-spire con-spire a(d)-spire

re-form in-form de-form con-form

e-ject in-ject ob-ject re-ject de-ject pro-ject

Finally, the same process is still ongoing in English with various so-called verb-particle constructions: (181) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. k.

The window broke The meeting broke up (early) Her car broke down (on the freeway) Her skin broke out (in a rash) He turned (and left) (So finally) he turns up (in Las Vegas) They turned in (for the night) It turned out (that she was right) She worked (hard) It worked out (just fine)

Simple verbal clauses and argument structure

l. m. n. o. p. q. r. s. t. u. v. w. x. y. z.

They worked out (in the gym) He worked up a sweat They broke the furniture She broke up their engagement They broke him in (gradually) He broke it down (for them into small pieces) He turned the key He turned the key over (to her) They turned her down (for the job) She turned in her report (and went home) They shut the door She shut him up They shut the plant down We shut them out completely (ten to nothing!) He shut the water off.

These ‘stranded’ prepositions in English, while semantically part of the verb sense, have not yet fully incorporated into the verb morpho-syntactically. For one thing, they still retain their lexical stress. For another, in many contexts they are not adjacent to the verb, so that the order variation V-DO-Prep vs. V-Prep-DO is functionally significant (Chen 1986).

Notes 1. One needs to nevertheless recognize that due to the ultimate verb-specificity of semantic roles, the advantages and disadvantages of a more abstract vs. more concrete system of semantic roles involve a trade-off: What one gains in generality with a more abstract system one looses in finer languagespecific detail. At the other end of the scale lies, aptly enough, a system that would recognize as universal all semantic roles in all languages, so long as they have at least some grammatical consequences, however minor, in at least one language. The system adopted here is once again an adaptive compromise between these two extremes. 2. To the extent that the cognition and neurology of language are relevant to the choice of formalism, one may as well note that morphological, syntactic, semantic and pragmatic aspects of grammar are most likely distributed over several brain mechanisms and locations (‘modules’), each with its own structure. But these mechanisms interact massively in the overall complex operations of grammar. If there is an empirical issue in the choice of formalism, it may well hinge on our understanding of the formal organization of grammar’s various sub-modules and their interaction. In other words, the formal architecture of the processor. 3. While having no semantic role in the state/event, the dummy pronoun often has some pronominal semantic features. For example, it clearly stands for neither a male nor a female entity, but rather an inanimate or non-human one. And in many languages it is singular rather than plural. These observations are not absolute, however, as may be seen in the traditional call ‘Thar she blows!’. 4. Termination and success verbs often imply the truth of their complement only prior to termination, just as initiation verbs imply the truth of the complement only after initiation (Givón 1973a).

171



Chapter 4

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

4.1

Orientation In the preceding chapter we used the notions of subject, direct object and indirect object extensively but informally in order to give an account of preferred argument structure; that is, of the mapping between the semantic structure of states or events and the syntactic structure of simple clauses. This mapping turned out to hinge, for each verb-type, on the mapping of semantic roles onto grammatical relations. In this chapter we deal more explicitly with grammatical relations (henceforth GRs). Following a brief recapitulation of the dissociation between semantic roles and GRs, we will outline a framework designed to accomplish three related tasks: a general approach to the formal properties of GRs. •
Outline
Describe relation between GRs and the pragmatic function of topicality. •
Survey thethemain of cross-language typological diversity in the morpho• syntactic treatmentparameters of GRs.

4.2

Semantic roles vs. grammatical relations: The dissociation test To demonstrate, even in the most superficial way, that the morpho-syntactic properties — morphology, word-order — of a nominal argument in the clause depend on its GR as subject or object rather than its semantic role as agent, patient etc., one must demonstrate a clear dissociation between the two. That is, one must show that the same morphosyntactically coded GR admits more than one semantic role. As a standard demonstration of such a dissociation, consider English, where both subject and object are morphologically unmarked and the word-order is SVO: (1) Multiple semantic roles of the GR ‘subject’ a. Patient of state She is tall b. Patient of change She is falling asleep c. Dative She is dreaming

174

Syntax

d. Agent She is writing a letter (2) Multiple semantic roles of the GR ‘direct object’ a. Patient of state He saw her b. Patient of change He pushed her c. Allative He approached her d. Ablative He left her e. Ingressive He entered the house f.

Dative He gave her a book

g. Benefactive He built her a house The dissociation tests above may be contrasted with two simple-minded negative demonstrations of failed dissociation. The first involves indirect objects marked with the preposition into: (3) a. She ran into the house b. They injected the medicine into her c. He elected to go into medicine The indirect object in (3a) is a concrete inanimate, it is a human animate in (3b) and an abstract inanimate in (3c). None of these change its ingressive semantic role (‘movement into’), the abstract metaphoric sense of (3c) notwithstanding. The second case, at first glance one of successful dissociation, involves the various semantic roles marked by the preposition ‘by’: (4) a. She found it by the door b. He found it by chance c. It was found by a tracker

(locative) (manner) (agent)

While the preposition by indeed codes multiple semantic roles, the ‘indirect object’ is not a GR. It has no unifying grammatical properties except the absence of either subject or direct-object properties. There are, of course, languages in which the GRs subject and/or direct object are not marked by a unifying morphology. The two most conspicuous language-types that display this feature, Ergative-Absolutive and Active-Stative languages, will be discussed further below (§4.4.3). What will be shown there is that in most such cases, non-morphological criteria still point out to the unified GR status of both the subject and direct object.

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

In the same vein, in many languages — perhaps even most — the case-marking usually referred to as direct-object or accusative is confined, more or less, to patient direct-objects, so that a case-marking dissociation between the GR object and the semantic role patient is hard to demonstrate. Again, other formal criteria above and beyond morphology reveal the formal unity of the GR direct-object in such cases, morphology notwithstanding.

4.3

Formal properties of grammatical relations In this section we follow closely Keenan’s (1975, 1976a) work on the properties of grammatical subjects, extending his framework to GRs in general. The formal properties of GRs are divided first into two main types: coding properties; •
overt
behavior-and-control properties. • We will discuss them below in order.

4.3.1

Overt coding properties The overt coding properties of GRs are perceptually discernible features of the grammatical code, such as morphology, intonation or word-order. Of those, the most relevant to GRs universally are: (5) Overt coding properties of grammatical subjects a. Word-order The NP’s position in the clause vis-a-vis other GR-bearing arguments and the verb (Chapter 5) b. Verb agreement The NP’s control of pronominal affixes on the verb (Chapter 9) c. Nominal morphology The NP’s morphological case-marking In the following examples of transitive clauses from 9 languages, we note the presence and type of rigid word-order, of nominal case-marking, and of pronominal verb agreement. (6) a. Japanese (SOV) sensei-ga tegami-o kai-ta teacher-subj letter-obj write-past ‘the teacher wrote the/a letter’ b. Mandarin Chinese (SVO) wo he-le san bei kafei le I drink-pfv three cup coffee crs ‘I drank three cups of coffee’

175

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Syntax

c. Swahili (SVO) mtoto a-li(-ki)-soma kitabu child s/he-past-it-read book ‘the child read a/the book’ d. Modern Hebrew (SVO) Yoav ra’-a (et-ha-)sefer Yoav read/past-he obj-the-book ‘Yoav read a/the book’ e. Ute (free word-order) tuaci-u mamac-i pu =nikya-kha-pu =gay-(’u/-am) child-pl woman-obj catch-pl-past-her/-they ‘the children saw the woman’ f.

Machiguenga (VSO) i-ma-ig-an-ak-a(-ro)-tyo o-tineri iroro-ri he-do.same-pl-dir-perf-tr(-her)-exc 3fem-son.in.law her-conj ‘her son-in-law treated her the same way and…’

g. Early Latin (SOV) vir[Ø] puero librum ded-it man/nom boy/dat book/acc give/past-he ‘The man gave a book to the boy’ h. Nepali (SOV) Raj-le citthi lekh-yo Raj-erg letter write/past-he ‘Raj wrote the/a letter’ i.

Spanish (VO, free subj order) le-vi-eron los muchachos a-Juan him-see/past/they the guys obj-John ‘the guys saw John’

In Table (7) below we summarize the use (+) vs. non-use (−) vs. partial use (+/−) of the three overt coding properties in the marking of the grammatical subject and direct object in each language. We award the score of 1 for the use of a feature, 0 for its non-use, and 0.5 for its partial use. The scores are then added up for the subject, direct-object, and combined total.

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

177

(7) The use of overt coding properties in 9 languages word-order language Japanese Mandarin Swahili Hebrew Ute Machiguenga Latin Nepali Spanish

case-marking

verb agr.

score

subj

obj

subj

obj

subj

obj

subj

obj

tot.

+ + + + − + + + −

+ + + + − + + + +

+ − − − − − + + −

+ − − +/− + − + +/− +/−

− − + + +/− + + + +

− − +/− − +/− +/− − − +/−

2 1 2 2 0.5 2 3 3 1

2 1 1.5 1.5 1.5 1.5 2 1.5 2

4 2 3.5 3.5 2.0 3.5 5 4.5 3

3

3

6

highest score possible

What this brief exercise demonstrates is that none of the three overt coding properties of GRs is absolute. Both the subject and the object can miss at least two of them without necessarily losing their GR status. What we have here is a vivid demonstration of the fact that the grammaticalization of the two main GRs may be a matter of degree. That is, either the subject or the direct object in a particular language — or in a particular clause-type — may be closer to or farther from the idealized prototype. In this way, GRs follow closely what we have observed earlier on about prototype-based categories (Ch. 1, §1.7.2). Pidgin communication is the only linguistic mode in which all three overt-coding features of GRs are totally absent. At best, Pidgins code the topicality of event participants (see §4.4.2 below). But what our table (7) suggests is that between the Pidgin, with the combined score of 0, and the maximal possible score of 6, the nine languages in our admittedly minuscule and haphazardly-gathered sample range in their GR grammaticalization score from 2 (Ute, Mandarin) to 5 (Latin). As we shall see directly below, other formal properties of GRs are still there in non-pidgin languages even when overt coding properties are largely absent. 4.3.2

Behavior-and-control properties 4.3.2.1
Preliminaries Behavior-and-control properties of GRs are, in practical terms, a list of the syntactic constructions — or ‘processes’ — whose behavior can be governed, at least potentially, by the GRs subject and/or direct-object. In the main, these are various types of complex clauses whose detailed description is strewn all over various subsequent chapters, mostly in Volume II. Our treatment of these here is thus, of necessity, rudimentary. Following Keenan (1976a), the grammatical constructions — or ‘processes’ — whose behavior is most likely to be governed by either the subject or direct-object GR are:

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(8) Syntactic constructions most commonly demonstrating behavior-and-control properties of GRs a. promotion to direct object (Ch. 4) b. demotion from direct object (Ch. 13) c. passivization (Ch. 13) d. reflexivization (Ch. 13) e. causativization (Ch. 12) f. equi-NP reference in complementation (Ch. 12) g. raising (Ch. 12) h. possessor raising (Ch. 4) i. anaphoric co-reference in chained clauses (Ch. 9, Ch. 18) j. relativization (Ch. 14) k. wh-questions (Ch. 17) l. cleft-focus constructions (Ch. 15) m. participial adverbial clauses (Ch. 18) The applicability of these properties of GRs in a particular construction in a particular language is determined by the answer to the question: “Does one have to mention the subject and/or direct-object GR in describing the grammatical behavior of a particular construction?”

If the answer is yes, the construction (or ‘process’) can serve as behavior-and-control property of a GR. If the answer is no, it cannot. But the government of grammatical constructions by GRs, much like the overt coding properties of GRs, displays an enormous cross-language variation and gradation. As in the case of overt coding properties, we find languages in which the vast majority of the constructions in (8) are governed by GRs (English); languages with very few GR-governed constructions (Seneca), and anywhere inbetween. This variability may be again expressed in terms of prototypicality and degree of grammaticalization. Before going into some of the ramifications of this variability, however, we need to first illustrate how GRs are indispensable to the characterization of some common grammatical constructions. That is, how the constructions in (8) can be governed by GRs. Consider first the two variant syntactic frames of the verb give in English: (9) a. He gave the book to Mary b. He gave Mary a book Both overt coding properties of relevant English objects, word-order (post-verbal, verbadjacent) and case-marking (no preposition), clearly tag the book as the DO in (9a). One of those criteria, case-marking, is useless in (9b), where both objects are equally unmarked. But word-order still tags Mary as the DO in (9b). The variation between (9a) and (9b), taken as a ‘grammatical process’, is called promotion to DO or dative-shifting (8a). This means that the dative IO in (9a) is ‘promoted into the DO’ in (9b). The GR direct-object (or its absence) thus clearly governs this process. One could not define or describe it without referring to the DO.

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

Next, trying to make either one of the two objects in (9a,b) the subject of a passive clause (8c) will reveal a systematic bias: (10) a. b. c. d.

The book was given to Mary *Mary was given the book to Mary was given a book *A book was given Mary

Out of construction (9a), only the book (DO) can be made the subject of the passive (10a), but not Mary (IO) (10b). Out of construction (9b), only Mary (DO) can be made the subject of the passive (10c), but not a book (IO) (10d). Our conclusion about the DO and passivization is further strengthened by data showing that other IO types also cannot be made the subject of the passive: (11) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

Mary saw John John was seen by Mary Mary went to John *John was gone (to) by Mary Mary worked with John *John was worked (with) by Mary Mary walked with a cane *The cane was walked (with) by Mary

Passivization (8c) in English is thus governed by both GRs. Consider next the active (11a) and passive (11b) above, when placed in the position of verbal complement following the modality verb ‘continue’. Such a construction requires an equi (coreferent) subject in the complement clause (8f), obligatorily expressed as zero: (12) a. Mary continued [Ø] to see John b. *John continued Mary to see [Ø] c. John continued [Ø] to be seen by Mary In (12a) Mary, the subject of the main clause, is also the subject of the active complement clause, satisfying the equi-subject condition of this construction. In (12b), John is the subject of the main clause but the object of the active complement. The equi-subject condition is violated, and the construction is faulty. In (12c), the complement is now a passive clause, John is now the subject of both clauses, and once again satisfying the equisubject condition of the construction. Modality verb complementation (8f) in English is clearly governed by the GR subject. In the same vein, consider complement of ‘see’, a construction that conforms the syntactic pattern of manipulation verbs (‘make’ and ‘have’): (13) a. b. c. d.

She saw Mary [Ø] examine John She saw herself [Ø] examine John *She saw John Mary to examine [Ø] She saw John [Ø] being examined by Mary

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Syntax

In (13a) Mary, the object of the main clause, is also the subject of the complement, thus satifying the equi-subject/object condition of this construction. In (13b), she is not only the subject of the main clause but also its object, and in addition also the subject of the complement clause. The equi-subject/object condition is again satisfied. In (13c), John is the object of the main clause but now the object of the complement. The equi-subject/ object condition of the construction is thus violated. Finally in (13d), with passivization restoring John to subjecthood in the complement clause, the equi-subject/object condition is once again satisfied. Clearly then, this complementation pattern is governed by both GRs — the object of the main clause and the subject of the complement. Lastly, consider reflexivization (8d) in English: (14) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l.

Mary hates John *Mary hates Mary Mary hates herself *Herself hates Mary Mary was hated by John *Mary was hated by herself Mary talks to John Mary talks to herself Mary plays with John Mary plays with herself Mary sent a letter to John Mary sent a letter to herself

To define the conditions that govern reflexivization, one must mention the GR subject vs. non-subject. Further, it is the non-subject that is replaced by the reflexive pronoun (herself), hence the infelicity of (14d). But that non-subject need not be the DO, as is evident from the acceptability of (14h,j,l) where various IOs are replaced by the reflexive pronoun. Still, the GR subject is apparently not quite enough to define the reflexive construction, as is evident from the infelicity of the reflexive-passive (14f). It thus seems that only the active clause allows reflexivization in English. Clearly then, reflexivization in English is governed not only by the GR subject, but also by some syntactic property of transitivity. 4.3.2.2
Variations in the applicability of behavior-and-control properties 4.3.2.2.1
Within-language variation. As noted above, behavior-and-control properties of GRs are not always applicable across the board. Within the same language, first, some constructions may be governed only by the subject GR, or only to the object GR, or by both, or by neither. Consider first promotion to or demotion from direct-object (8b). In English this process is governed only by the direct-object, leaving the subject unaffected, as can be seen in (9a,b), reproduced below as (15a,b). Either variant can be made the equi-subject complement of ‘want’, as in (15c,d):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(15) a. b. c. d.

He gave the book to Mary He gave Mary a book He wanted [Ø] to give the book to Mary He wanted [Ø] to give Mary a book

In the same vein, compare the three verbal complements in (16) below. With a modality main verb (16a), the construction is governed by the subject of both main and complement clauses. With a manipulation main verb (16b), the construction is governed by the object of the main clause and the subject of the complement. With a cognition main verb (16c), the construction is governed by neither GR: (16) a. She wanted [Ø] to leave the room b. She told him [Ø] to leave the room c. She knew that he had left the room Likewise in adverbial clauses in English, no GR governs if and when clauses (17a,b). But the GR subject — of both the adverbial and main clause — governs participial adverbial clauses (17c,d): (17) a. b. c. d.

When she left, he started cleaning If she leaves, he won’t [Ø] Leaving early, she took the bus and… [Ø] Having left early, she had plenty of time to…

Finally, both the subject and object GRs govern the English BE-passive, as seen in (11) above. But the impersonal passive in English (18b) is governed by neither GR. It involves no change in GRs as compared to the active (18a), and the impersonal pronoun one remains its grammatical subject, in terms of both its pre-verbal position and control of verb agreement: (18) a. Active: The girls ride their horses there b. Impersonal: One rides horses there The fact that one is still the formal subject of the impersonal-passive (18b) is further confirmed by placing the impersonal clause as an equi-subject complement (19b), where it behaves like the active-clause subject (19a), both contrasting with the BE-passive complement (19c): (19) a. Active equi-Subj complement *The horse wanted Mary to ride [Ø] b. Impersonal passive equi-Subj complement *The horse wanted one to ride [Ø] c. BE-passive equi-Subj complement The horse wanted [Ø] to be ridden by Mary 4.3.2.2.2
Cross-language variation. Across languages, a wide range of variability is observed in the government of syntactic constructions by GRs. Quite commonly, a particular

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Syntax

construction may be governed by GRs in one language, but its functional equivalent in another language is ungoverned by GRs, or governed differently. A few selected examples will illustrate this point. a.

Zero anaphora in chained clauses The use of zero anaphora as a pronominal device to mark co-reference in clause-chaining (Ch. 9, Ch. 18) is confined in English to the subject GR. First, a zero in a chained (‘conjoined’) clause could only be governed by the subject of the preceding clause (20a), not by its object (20b): (20) a. Mary met Joe, [Ø] talked to him, and… b. *Mary met Joe, [Ø] talked to her, and… What is more, the governed zero could only be the subject of the chained (‘conjoined’) clause, not its object: (21) a. b. c. d.

Mary met Joe, he talked to her, and… *Mary met Joe, she talked to [Ø], and… Mary came over and Joe talked to her *Mary came over and Joe talked to [Ø]

In Mandarin Chinese, on the other hand, zero anaphora in chained clauses need not be governed by either GR, allowing — at least in principle — both zero subject and zero object, and both subject control and object control of those zeros. Thus, the first zero in (22b) below is a subject governed by the subject of the preceding clause (Abbot). The second zero in (22b), however, is an object governed by the object of the preceding clause (Zhi-Sheng) (Li and Thompson 1979): (22) a. Quing-zhang-lao jiang Zhi-Sheng ken qu. abbot see Z.-S. want go ‘The Abbot saw that Z.-S. was willing to go. b. jiu [Ø] liu [Ø] zai fangzhang-li xie-le. then [Ø] keep [Ø] be chamber-in rest-asp Then he kept him in the chamber to rest up’. In (23b) below, a zero object is governed by the zero subject of the preceding clause (YangZhi), and the adjacent zero possessor is governed by that zero object (Yang-Zhi). In (23c), next, the zero subject is governed by the zero object and/or possessor of the preceding clause (Yang-Zhi), and the zero object is governed by the subject of the preceding clause (Porter). Finally, in (23d) the zero subject is governed by the zero object of the preceding clause (Porter): (23) a. [Ø] an-xi xia. [Ø] settle down ‘(Yang-Zhi) settled down.

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

b. zhuang-ke jiao-huan [Ø] [Ø] dan-r. porter give-back [Ø] [Ø] luggage The porter then gave him back his luggage. c. [Ø] yu-le [Ø] xie yin-liang. [Ø] give-asp [Ø] some money Y.-Z. then gave him some money. d. [Ø] zi hui-qu-le. [Ø] refl return-asp The porter then went back by himself’. As Li and Thompson (1979) explain, subtle semantic and pragmatic considerations govern zero anaphora in examples such as (22) and (23). But GRs, of themselves, seem irrelevant.1 b.

Relative clauses in Japanese and Ute Consider next relative clauses in Japanese and Ute. In Japanese, the same zero coding strategy is used for all Rel-clauses, regardless of whether the focus of relativization is subject, DO or IO (A. Hayashi, i.p.c.): (24) a. Main clause otoko-ga onna-ni tegami-o kaita man-subj woman-dat letter-acc sent ‘The man sent a letter to the woman’ b. Subject Rel-clause [Ø] onna-ni tegami-o kaita otoko-wa… [subj] woman-dat letter-acc sent man-top ‘the man who sent a letter to the woman…’ c. Accusative (DO) Rel-clause otoko-ga onna-ni [Ø] kaita tegami-wa… man-subj woman-dat [do] sent letter-top ‘the letter that the man sent to the woman…’ d. Dative (IO) Rel-clause otoko-ga [Ø] tegami-o kaita onna-wa… man-subj [io] letter-acc sent woman-top ‘the woman to whom the man sent a letter…’ Relativization in Japanese is thus not governed by GRs. In Ute, on the other hand, two major relativization strategies exist, one for subjects, with the verbal Rel-suffix -tu =, the other for object — DOs and IOs alike — with the verbal Rel-suffix -na. Further, the subject in object Rel-clauses is marked with the genitive suffix. Finally, a further distinction is made for IO relativization, where the relative pronoun pu =- carries the relevant post-position (Givón 1980): (25) a. Main clause tuach pö’ökwatu = tu =ka’napu =-vwan wachu =-ka child/subj book/obj table-on put-perf ‘the child put the book on the table’

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Syntax

b. Subject Rel-clause tuach-’u [Ø] pö’ökwatu = tu =ka’nap-vwan wachu =-ka-t(u =) child-the [subj] book/obj table-on put-perf-rel/subj ‘the child who put the book on the table’ c. Direct-object Rel-clause pö’ökwat-’ur tuach-i [Ø] tu =ka’napu =-vwan wachu =-ka-n(a) book-the child-gen [do] table-on put-perf-rel/obj ‘the book that the child put on the table’ d. Indirect-object Rel-clause tu =ka’nap-’ur tuach-i pö’ökwatu = pu =-vwan wachu =-ka-n(a) table-the child-gen book/obj rel-on put-perf-rel/obj ‘the table on which the child put the book’ Clearly, relativization in Ute is governed by both GRs, subject and DO, and even the IO. c.

Raising from subject to object in English, Hebrew and ChiChewa Consider next the so-called raising to object (8g) construction. English has, most likely, the greatest array of such constructions, which are governed by both the object of the main clause and the subject of the subordinate clause: (26) a. Unraised They declared that he won the war b. Raised (active subject) They declared him to have won the war c. *Raised (active object) *They declared the war to he has won d. Raised (passive subject) They declared the war to have been won (by him) e. Unraised They expected that she would win the war f.

Raised (active subject) They expected her to win the war

g. *Raised (active object) *They expected the war she to win h. Raised (passive subject) They expected the war to be won (by her) In Hebrew no such raising is possible: (27) a. Unraised hem hixriz-u she hu haya ha-menatseax they declared-3pl sub he was the-winner ‘they declared that he was the winner’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

b. *Raised *hem hixriz-u oto (li-hyot) ha-menatseax they declared-3pl him (to-be) the-winner (*‘they declared him the winner’) c. Unraised hem tsip-u she hu yi-hye ha-menatseax they expected-3pl sub he 3sg.masc-be/irr the-winner ‘they expected that he would be the winner’ d. *Raised *hem tzip-u oto (li-hyot) ha-menatseax they expected-3pl him (to-be) the-winner (*‘they expected him to be the winner’) Finally, in many Bantu languages, raising seems possible, but is a bit strange, in that the subject of the complement clause retains its subject role even as it gains an object role in the main clause. What is more, in ChiChewa it seems that the object of the active clause can also be raised in such constructions, as in (Trithart 1977): (28) a. Unraised ndi-ganiza kuti mnyamata a-ma-lima chimanga I-think sub boy he-hab-farm corn ‘I think the boy farms corn’ b. Raised subject-of-active ndi-mu-ganiza mnyamata kuti a-ma-lima chimanga I-him-think boy sub he-hab-farm corn lit.: ‘I think him the boy that he farms corn’ c. Raised object-of-active ndi-chi-ganiza chimanga kuti mnyamata a-ma-chi-lima I-it-think corn sub boy he-hab-it-farm lit.: ‘I think it the corn that the boy farms it’ d. Raised subject-of-passive ndi-chi-ganiza chimanga kuti ch-ma-lim-idwa (ndi mnyamata) I-it-think corn sub it-hab-farm-pass (by boy) lit.: ‘I think it the corn that it is farmed (by the boy)’ d.

Passivization in English and Tolowa Compare next the BE-passive of English which, as noted in (10)/(11) above, is governed by both the subject and DO, with the impersonal passive in Tolowa Athabaskan, which is governed by neither GR (Givón and Bommelyn 2000): (29) a. shu =-ł-tu =ł 1sg/obj-l-kick ‘s/he is kicking me’

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Syntax

b. ’u =-sh-tł-tu =ł th-1sg/subj-l-kick ‘I am kicking it’ c. tr’u =-ł-tu =ł pass-l-kick ‘someone is kicking it’, ‘it is being kicked’ d. sh-tr’u =-ł-tu =ł 1sg/obj-pass-l-kick ‘someone is kicking me’, ‘I am being kicked’ As can be seen from (29d), the patient topic-of-passive is not promoted to subjecthood, but rather retains its object pronoun status. What is more, the passive can apply to intransitive clauses that have no direct object: (30) a. dee-sh-yu =n th-1sg/subj-sing/imperf ‘I am singing’ b. sr-dee-yu =n pass-thm-sing/imperf ‘someone is singing’, ‘singing is happening’ c. tra¸a¸xe d-aa na-’-sh-’a woman 3sg-ben mov-ap-1sg/subj-talk ‘I am talking for the woman’ d. tra¸a¸xe d-aa na-sr’-’a woman 3sg-ben mov-pass-talk ‘someone is talking for the woman’ ‘the woman is talked for’ e.

Possessive-reflexives in English and Ute Consider the government of the possessive-reflexive construction (8d) in English and Ute. In simple clauses, is seems to be governed in both languages by the subject GR: (31) a. mamach(i) tuachi magha-kha woman/subj child/obj feed-perf ‘the woman fed the child’ b. mamach(i) tuachi-’u magha-kha woman/subj child/obj-3sg feed-perf ‘the woman fed his/her child’ (not her own) *‘the woman fed her own child’(not anybody else’s) c. mamach(i) tuachi-av magha-kha woman/subj child/obj-3sg/refl feed-perf ‘the woman fed her own child’ (not anybody else’s) *‘the woman fed his/her child’(not her own)

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

In (31b), with the non-reflexive possessive pronoun -’u ‘his/her’, a reflexive-possessive interpretation is impossible in Ute. In (31c), with the reflexive-possessive pronoun -av, only a reflexive interpretation is possible in Ute. Consider next what happens when the possessive-reflexive clause is embedded as a verbcomplement. In English, subject control remains local, i.e. within the complement clause: (32) a. The woman told the man [Ø] to feed his own child b. *The woman told the man [Ø] to feed her own child In Ute, the exact opposite control pattern turns out to be the case. With non-reflexive possessors (33a), the control can be local, i.e. by the subject of the same, complement, clause. But with the reflexive-possessor (33b), control must be ceded to the subject of the main clause: (33) a. mamach(i) ta’wachi may-kya tuachi-’u magha-vaa-ku woman/subj man/obj tell-ant child/obj-3sgan feed-irr-sub ‘The woman told the man to feed his child’ *‘The woman told the man to feed her child’ b. mamach(i) ta’wachi may-kya tuachi-av magha-vaa-ku woman/subj man/obj tell-ant child/obj-refl feed-irr-sub ‘The woman told the man to feed her child’ *‘The woman told the man to feed his child’ In other words, the controller of the reflexive-possessor pronoun in complement clauses is the subject of the main clause. The same government pattern persists in the looser complements of perception and cognition verbs: (34) a. mamach(i) puchuchugwa-y ’áapachi sarichi-’u táa-ka-nay woman/subj know-imm boy/gen dog/obj-3sg.an kick-ant-sub ‘The woman knows that the boy kicked his dog’ *‘The woman knows that the boy kicked her dog’ b. mamach(i) puchuchugwa-y ‘áapachi sarichi-av táa-ka-nay woman/subj know/imm boy/gen dog/obj-refl kick-ant-sub ‘The woman knows that the boy kicked her dog’ *‘The woman knows that the boy kicked his dog’ Cross-language differences in behavior-and-control properties of GRs can also extend to the scope — local vs. non-local — of government of grammatical constructions. f.

Equi-subject/object complements in English and Tolowa As noted earlier above (16), in English complements of modality and manipulation verbs are strongly governed by GRs, while complements of perception-cognition-utterance (PCU) verbs are not. In Tolowa Athabaskan, on the other hand, complements of modality and manipulation verbs are as finite as main clauses, and as complements of PCU verbs, and are thus ungoverned by GRs, at least in so far as verb-forms are concerned. Thus compare (Bommelyn and Givón 1998):2

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(35) a. tra¸a¸nxe tee-s-ii-’í¸-’ woman th-perf-1sg/subj-observe-perf ‘I observed the woman’ b. tra¸a¸nxe tee-s-ii-’í¸-’ ’aa-w-í-ł-te woman th-perf-1sg/subj-observe-perf thm-des/perf-1sg/subj-l-want ‘I wanted to observe the woman’ (lit.: ‘I wanted I observed the woman) c. tra¸a¸xe sh-te-s-’í¸-’ woman 1sg/obj-th-perf-observe-perf ‘the woman observed me’ d. tra¸a¸xe sh-te-s-’í¸-’ y-u-s-tł-te woman 1sg/obj-th-perf-observe-perf tr-des-perf-l-want ‘the woman wanted to observe me’ (lit.: ‘The woman wanted she observed me’) e. tra¸a¸xe sh-te-s-’í¸-’ ’aa-w-ii-ł-nu =n woman 1sg/obj-th-perf-observe-perf th-u/perf-1sg/subj-l-tell ‘I told the woman to observe me’ (lit.: ‘I told the woman she observed me’) f. tra¸a¸nxe tee-s-ii-’í¸-’ sh-ghi¸-ł-nu =n woman th-perf-1sg/subj-observe-perf 1sg/obj-perf-l-tell ‘the woman told me to observe her’ (lit.: ‘The woman told me I observed her’) The situation is not totally clear-cut, however, since one may cogently argue that when all arguments are third persons, zero subjects in the complements are indeed governed by GRs: (36) a. ch’u =sne ya¸a¸xu =shchuh yu =-s-tł-tr’i¸nt’ man sasquatch tr-perf-l-kill ‘the man killed the sasquatch’ b. ch’u =sne ya¸a¸xu =shchuh yu =-s-tł-tr’i¸nt’ [Ø] y-u-s-tł-te man sasquatch tr-perf-l-kill subj tr-des-perf-l-want ‘the man wanted to kill the sasquatch’ (lit: ‘the man wanted he killed it the Sasquatch’) c. ch’u =sne y-u-ł-nu =n [Ø] ya¸a¸xu =shchuh yu =-s-tł-tr’i¸nt’ man tr-perf-l-tell subj sasquatch tr-perf-l-kill ‘s/he told the man to kill the sasquatch’ (lit.: ‘s/he told the man he killed it the sasquatch’) 4.3.2.2.3
Interim summary: Prototypicality and gradation. As seen above, behavior-andcontrol properties of GRs, much like overt coding properties, display a wide range of both cross-language and intra-language variability. To underscore the possible range of such variation, consider table (37) below, in which we summarize, for three languages, the applicability of the subject and direct-object GRs to the 13 potentially governed constructions listed earlier in (8).

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

189

(37) Scope of rule-government by GRs in 3 languages English

Tolowa

Japanese

Subj

Obj

Subj

Obj

Subj

Obj

a.
promotion to DO b.
demotion from DO c.
passivization d.
reflexivization e.
causativization f.
equi-complements g.
raising h.
possessor raising i.
zero anaph. (chains) j.
relativization k.
wh-question l.
cleft-focus m.
participial Advs

− − + + − + + − + + + + +

+ + + − − + + + − + + + −

− − − + − +/− − − − − − − −

− − − − − +/− − − − − − − −

− − + + + + − − − − + + +

− − + − + + − − − − + + −

total scores:

9

9

1.5

0.5

7

5

B&C property

The remarkably low score for Tolowa Athabaskan — 1.5/13 for subject and 0.5/13 for object — is due in part to one salient grammatical feature of this language, indeed of the Athabaskan family in general: It has virtually no non-finite constructions. Even nominalized clauses are finite in Tolowa (Givón and Bommelyn 2000). Governed constructions, especially subordinate ones, tend to be less finite in languages such as English. Other families which share the Athabaskan penchant for finiteness are Iroquois and So. Arawak. 4.3.2.3
Conflicts between overt-coding and behavior-and-control properties of GRs With some well-known exceptions, overt coding properties and behavior-and-control properties of GRs tend to coincide. That is, regardless of how highly grammaticalized the subject and object are in a particular language, in most languages — and in most grammatical constructions — GR properties tend to cluster together coherently around the same argument, be it the subject or object. In this section we will discuss briefly some of the more notorious exceptions to this strong tendency. We will suggest that among both languages and clause-types, these exceptions are relatively rare, and that rather than being counter examples to the universality of GRs, these exceptions merely point the way towards a more complex approach to universals of GRs, one that would take into account both the synchronic functions of GR-governed constructions and the diachronic processes via which they arise; that is, grammaticalization. a.

Morphologically Ergative languages Without going into details at this juncture, morphologically Ergative (or ‘surface-ergative’) languages display a well-known misalignment between case-marking morphology and behavior-and-control properties of their subjects and DOs. Briefly, while the morphology

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of these languages does not reveal unified categories of subject and DO, behavior-andcontrol properties clearly reveal them to be unified categories. This issue will be discussed in some detail further below (§4.4.3.3.4), where the diachronic roots of the misalignment will be noted. b.

Passive and/or inverse clauses In his well-known paper on passives and grammatical relations, Keenan (1975) noted that subjects of passive clauses are often less prototypical than those of active clauses, displaying only a sub-set of the overt coding properties of active-clause subjects. As an illustration of this, compare the active and passive clauses of Lunda-Ndembu (Bantu), a language with a strict SVO word-order. Neither the subject nor DO are case-marked in this language, but each controls a distinct pronominal agreement slot on the verb (Kawasha and Givón 1999): (38) a. Active (Sg subject) Joni w-a-mona Mari children 3pl-past-see M. ‘John saw Mary’ b. Active (Pl subject) Anyaana a-a-mona Mari children 3pl-past-see M. ‘The children saw Mary’ c. Active, anaphoric object anyaana a-a-mu-mona children 3pl-past-3sg/obj-see ‘the children saw him/her’ d. Active, anaphoric object & subject a-a-mu-mona 3pl-past-3sg/obj-see ‘they saw him/her’ e. Passive (SV) Mari a-a-mu-mona kudi-Joni Mary 3pl-past-3sg/obj-see dat-Joni ‘Mary was seen by John’ (lit.: ‘Mary, they saw her by John’) f.

Passive (VO) a-a-mu-mona Mari kudi-Joni 3pl-past-3sg/obj-see Mary dat-John ‘Mary was seen by John’ (lit.: ‘They saw her Mary by John’)

As can be seen, the topical NP of the Lunda passive has acquired, at least optionally, the characteristic active-clause subject position (SV; (38g)). But it still controls object pronominal agreement on the verb. Further, behavior-and-control properties of the topical NP in the passive clause are also divided (Kawasha and Givón 1999):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

191

(39) Split GR properties of the Lunda topic-of-passive Properties

Subject

Object

x

x x

Overt coding position anaphoric pronoun Behavior & control EQUI Reflexive Relativization Functional properties topicality Total:

x x x x 4

3

Similar split GR properties also characterize inverse clauses in many other languages (Givón ed. 1994a). The less subject-like nature of the non-agent topic of the passive or inverse clause is fairly understandable in terms of syntactic transitivity (Ch. 3): In the simple clause, the agent tends to be the more topical argument, and is thus most often grammaticalized as the subject. Subject properties overall are keyed to this strong norm. But both passive and inverse clauses violate this norm (see Chapter 13). It is thus not an accident that their topical argument shows weakened subject properties. c.

Existential-presentative clauses Another clause-type that is notorious for mixed GR properties is the existential-presentative construction, as in: (40) a. Neutral clause The fly landed in my soup b. Existential-presentative clause There was a fly in my soup The ‘logical’ subject of the existential clause is, in all languages, a rather non-prototypical subject as compared to the neutral-clause subject (Hetzron 1975; Givón 1976; Bresnan and Kanerva 1989, inter alia). As an example of the mixed GR properties of existential-presentatives, consider again Lunda-Ndembu where, as is typical in Bantu languages, the locative argument in the existential-presentative clause controls the subject pronominal agreement on the verb: (41) a. Neutral-clause locative anyaana a-di mu-itala children 3pl/subj-be in-house ‘the children are in the house’

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b. Existential-presentative (fronted locative) mu-itala mu-di anyaana in-house in/subj-be children ‘in the house there are children’ c. Existential-presentative (unfronted locative) mu-di anyaana mu-itala in/subj-be children in-house ‘there are children in the house’ But the locative apparent-subject in Lunda reveals itself to be rather non-prototypical when tested for its behavior-and-control properties. Thus, for example, neither argument in the existential clause can be relativized (42c,d). This contrasts sharply with the neutral clause, out of which both the subject (42a) and the locative object (42b) can be relativized: (42) a. Neutral, subject Rel-clause ana anyaana a-di mu-itala… those children 3pl/subj-be in-house ‘the children who are in the house…’ b. Neutral, locative-Obj Rel-clause muna mu-itala mu-a-di-wu anyaana… that in-house loc-3pl-be-3pl children ‘in the house where there are children c. *Existential, logical-Subj Rel-clause *ana anyaana mu-di mu-itala…. those children in/subj-be in-house *(the) children that there are in the house…’ d. *Existential, locative Subj/Obj rel muna mu-itala mu-di anyaana… there in-house in/subj-be children ‘In-there in the house there are children’ (main clause) *‘the in-the-house where there are children…’ (Rel) Likewise, in testing for equi-subject complementation: (43) a. Neutral clause anyaana a-e-ekal-ili mu-itala children 3sg/subj-past-live-asp in-house ‘the children lived in the house’ b. Equi, subject w-a-yi-keeñ-eli anyaana ku-ikala mu-itala 3sg-past-3pl/obj-live-asp children inf-live in-house ‘he wanted the children to live in the house’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

c. Existential-presentative mu-itala mu-e-ekal-ili anyaana in-house in/subj-past-live-asp children ‘in the house there lived children’ d. *Equi, locative *w-a-mu-keñ-eli mu-itala ku-ikala-(mu) anyaana 3sg-past-in/loc-want-asp in-house inf-live-(in) children (*‘he wanted for the house to there live children’) The rather weak subjecthood of the locative ‘subject’ of existential-presentative clauses is not surprising, given that the prototypical subject of neutral clauses is overwhelmingly definite, anaphoric, recurrent and topical (Chapters 9, 10). The subject of existentialpresentative clauses, on the other hand, is an indefinite non-anaphoric referent that is being introduced into the discourse for the first time (see Chapters 10, 16). d.

Possession clauses As noted earlier on (Ch. 3, §3.3.4.3.(i)), possession clauses in many languages have mixed GRs, splitting subject properties between the more topical human-dative possessor and the less topical possessed patient. Thus recall the Hebrew examples, in which even overt coding properties in these constructions are mixed: (44) a. hay-a l-a sefer-xad was-3sg.masc dat-3sg.fem book-one ‘she had a book’ b. hay-u l-a harbe sfarim was-3pl dat-3sg.fem many books ‘she had many book’ c. lo hay-a l-a et-ha-sefer ha-ze neg was-3sg.masc to-her acc-the-book the-this ‘she didn’t have this book’ c. lo hay-u/a l-a et-ha-sfarim ha-ele neg be/past-3pl/3sg.masc to-her acc-the-books the-these ‘she didn’t have these books’ Indefinite possessed NPs (44a,b) control subject pronominal agreement on the verb. Definite possessed NPs (44c,d) are marked with the DO preposition, and may or may not control verb agreement (44d). Examples like (44c,d) thus suggest at the very least a partial re-alignment of the possessed patient as direct object of a transitive construction. However, the behavior-and-control properties of the dative possessor of this construction still do not reach prototype subject properties. To illustrate this, compare the equi-subject constructions with a transitive (45a), BE-intransitive (45b), and possession-clause (45c) in the complement position: (45) a. hi rats-ta li-kro’ et-ha-sefer she wanted-3sg.fem inf-read acc-the-book ‘she wanted to read the book’

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Syntax

b. hi rats-ta li-hyot b-a-bayit she wanted-3sg.fem inf-be at-the-house ‘she wanted to be at home’ c. *hi rats-ta li-hyot l-a et-ha-sefer she wanted-3sg.fem inf-be dat-3sg.fem acc-the-book (*‘she wanted to have the book’) d. hi rats-ta she-yi-hye l-a et-ha-sefer she wanted-3sg.fem sub-3sg.masc-be/fut dat-3sg.fem acc-the-book ‘she wished that she would have the book’ The conflict in grammatical relations of course mirrors a conflict in topicality, as the construction pits its possessed-patient, clinging somewhat desperately to grammatical subjecthood, against the more topical dative-possessor. e.

Dative subject clauses Consider finally the mixed properties of dative-subjects in Spanish. While morphologically case-marked as datives and ceding subject pronominal agreement to the seeming ‘object’, they nonetheless behave as subjects for the purpose of equi in complement clauses: (46) a. Main clause, NOM subject Yo quier-o el sol 1sg/subj love-1/subj.sg the sun ‘I want/love the sun’ b. Main clause, DAT subject a-mi me-gus-a el sol dat-1sg 1sg/dat-please-3sg/subj the sun ‘I like the sun’, ‘the sun pleases me’ c. Equi, NOM subject quier-o hacer-lo want-1sg/subj do-it ‘I want to do it’ d. Equi, DAT subject me-gust-a hacer-lo 1sg/dat-please-3sg/subj do-it ‘I like to do it’, ‘it pleases me to do it’ Subject — and object — properties in these clauses are thus split between the two arguments, the more topical human dative and the less topical inanimate patient. Once again, this wide-spread split is understandable in general terms, revealing the conflict between letting the morphology represent semantic roles (dative), and letting it represent pragmatic roles (main topic), grammaticalized as subject (see §4.3.4 below)

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

4.3.3

Universality and variation: The prototype approach to grammatical relations We have surveyed above great variability, both among languages and between clause-types, in the way GRs govern particular grammatical constructions. We have also surveyed welldocumented cases of mixed GR properties in particular clause-types. One is thus entitled to ask: Is there anything universal about grammatical relations? The answer is that there are plenty of universal principles that govern GRs in all languages, provided one’s approach to GRs is compatible with an empirical approach to categorization in general. In his pioneering basket-of-properties work on GRs, Keenan (1975, 1976a) pointed the way toward an approach that would accommodate both variability and universality. This approach is fully consonant with Greenberg’s (1966a) work on typological universals and predictive implicational hierarchies. It is also fully compatible with the prototype approach to cognitive and linguistic categories (Ch. 1, §1.7.2). The prototype approach to GRs diverges sharply from the definitional, either-or, Platonic approach to categories. Followers of Platonic approaches may, explicitly or implicitly, treat GRs in two extreme ways. First, following Chomsky (1981, 1992), they can make GR properties so pristine and abstract that, cleansed of all intra-language mess and cross-language variability, they are then pronounced 100% universal. Alternatively, following Dryer (1995, 1997), one could assert that only 100% uniformity is good enough for universality, thereby — in defiance of all that is known about biological and cognitive categories — pronouncing GRs non-universal. In his work on the overt coding properties of the subject of passive clauses, Keenan (1975) made the following universal prediction, couched in terms of an implicational hierarchy: (47) Implicational hierarchy of overt coding properties (Keenan 1975) case-marking > pronominal agreement > word-order The predictions of hierarchy (47) run as follows: If the subject of the passive clause has the case-marking typical on the subject of the active, it is also likely to have its typical pronominal verb agreement. And if it has that agreement, it is also likely to have its typical wordorder. But not vice versa. Keenan thus tagged word-order as a more universal overt subject-coding property, verb agreement as less universal, and case-marking as least. In doing so, Keenan also made it possible to accommodate the mixed GR status of the subject or object of some clause-types within a theory that has not given up on universals. That is, the possibility of gradation in the grammaticalization of GRs (see further below).

4.3.4 Functional correlates of grammatical relations In his subsequent paper on subject properties, Keenan (1976a) listed the functional properties of the grammatical subject: (48) Functional properties of grammatical subjects a. independent existence b. indispensability

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Syntax

c. d. e. f.

absolute, presupposed or persistent reference definiteness topicality agentivity

Of these, agentivity (48f) is an obvious miscast, as has been demonstrated by the dissociation test in (1) above. The rest of Keenan’s functional properties are all reference-related, and can be reduced to — or derived from — a single discourse-pragmatic property — topicality. That is, they are all various reflections of the fact that the clausal subject is the grammaticalized primary topic of the discourse at the time when the clause is being processed, and the direct object is the grammaticalized secondary topic (see Chapters 9, 10). The behavior-and-control properties of GRs (8)/(37) are transparently linked to topicality and referential continuity, a subject that will be treated in considerable detail in many subsequent chapters. Of the three overt coding properties of GRs, both word-order (Chapter 5) and pronominal agreement (Chapter 9) are transparently associated with the coding of topicality. Keenan’s (1975) predictions may be now included within a broader generalization: more closely a formal property of subjects and objects is associated with their •
The pragmatic function of topicality, the more universal it is likely to be in its crosslanguage distribution. Keenan’s predictive implicational hierarchy (47) may now be extended to all properties of GRs (Givón 1995: Ch. 6): (49) Ranking of all properties of GRs according to universality and functional transparency most universal (most transparent) a. b. c. d. e.

Functional reference-and-topicality properties Behavior-and-control properties Word-order Grammatical agreement Nominal case-marking least universal (least transparent)

This ranking suggests a well-known fact from the study of grammaticalization: Morphology is the least universal trait of grammatical constructions. It is the most grammaticalized, and thus potentially the most arbitrary feature of grammar. This is so because it is the most diachronically recalcitrant, conservative feature of grammar (Givón 1971a, 1979a, 1995, 2000; Haspelmath 1999). It thus has the highest potential for dissociation from semantic and pragmatic function — in this case the topicality function of GRs (see §4.4.2 below). Syntactic behavior-and-control properties of GRs, on the other hand, are more universal precisely because they are more directly attuned to the topicality function of GRs.3 Finally, the most universal properties of GRs are their functional properties. This conclusion is fully consonant with Dryer’s (1995, 1997) observations, provided one does not

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

subscribe to the proposition that less-than-100% universality means no universality at all. The prototype approach to GRs and their universality, much like the prototype approach to categorization elsewhere, is a middle-ground approach between two rather unsatisfactory extremes. Within such a framework, a subject or object may be a GR in a particular language without necessarily displaying the entire basket of formal GR properties. That is, the subject or object in one language may be more extensively grammaticalized than in another (Mithun 1991). Likewise, the subject or object of one construction within the same language may display fewer GR properties and thus be less grammaticalized, than the subject or object of another construction. But this does not necessarily make it loose its status as a GR. Finally, a small number of constructions — or languages — may display mixed GR properties of their subjects or objects without necessarily falsifying the universality of GRs. In dealing with complex biologically-based systems such as cognition and language, one must not only accept but indeed expect universals that accommodate gradation and nonprototypical minorities. Rather than destroying purported generalizations, such exceptions merely testify to the complex, multi-factored nature of cognition and language. The validity of a prototype-based categorial system is its coverage of the overwhelming majority of the cases, while allowing for minorities that represent either conflicting functional demands, ongoing diachronic change, or recalcitrant diachronic relics. Such minorities must then be explained with reference to coherent general principles. The behavior of GRs in most grammatical constructions and in most languages indeed passes both tests.

4.4

The typology of case-marking systems

4.4.1

Preliminaries In this section we deal primarily with the morphological overt-coding properties of grammatical relations; that is, with nominal case-marking and pronominal verb agreement. We will begin by noting the three adaptive-functional imperatives that motivate grammaticalized case-marking of event participants. We will then discuss briefly the pragmaticfunctional correlates of GRs. We will then describe the three main types of case-marking systems as, responding, each, more strongly to one of the three adaptive imperatives. Three potentially-conflicting adaptive pressures motivate the grammatical case-marking of clausal arguments: (50) Functional-adaptive imperatives of case-marking a. the need to code semantic roles b. the need to code pragmatic function c. the need to code transitivity As often happens in cases of conflicting adaptive pressures, what various language-types or individual languages do is find their own viable adaptive compromise point among these competing demands.

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Syntax

One fairly general compromise, practiced by almost all languages, involves case-marking above and beyond the two grammaticalized GRs, subject and direct object: languages dedicate their indirect objects case-marking almost exclusively to •
Most marking semantic roles. But even here, as we shall see below, there are two glaring extreme variants. The first extends semantically-oriented case-marking even to the direct object. The second withdraws semantically-oriented case-marking even from indirect objects. 4.4.2 Topicality and grammatical relations 4.4.2.1
Cognitive prominence and discourse persistence As suggested earlier, the subject and DO of clauses may be viewed as the grammaticalized primary and secondary topics of the discourse at the time when the clause in which they partake is being processed. It is important to emphasize that the pragmatic function topic, like almost all other pragmatic functions coded by grammar, is in principle not an event-related feature but rather a discourse-related one. That is, topic is not an intra-clausal but rather and extraclausal function, relating to the clause’s discourse context. However, like the rest of grammar, topicality is grammaticalized inside the clause, a fact that has often led to rather unfortunate conclusions about the functional scope of grammar. The distinction between cognitive (event-focused) and communicative (discoursefocused) prominence of participants is blurred by some functionalists, who conflate cognitive (‘semantic’) prominence in the event with communicative (‘pragmatic’) prominence in the discourse. Some of them then subsume communicative under cognitive prominence (e.g. Langacker 1987, 1990), while others subsume cognitive under communicative prominence (e.g. Hopper and Thompson 1984). Topicality is fundamentally a cognitive dimension, having to do with the focus of attention on one or two important events-or-state participants during the processing of multi-participant clauses. Since attention is a limited mental capacity, complex multiparticipant situations force its selective deployment.4 This is presumably the reason why only one or two event participants bear the grammaticalized topic marking of subject or DO. It is somewhat premature to discuss here the experimental cognitive study of attention. What is more, the use of the GRs subject and DO to code topicality is embedded within a wider complex system in which many other grammatical sub-systems interact. For these reasons, we will note at this juncture only two of the more heuristic, textdistributional properties of topical arguments in discourse: a.

Cataphoric persistence Arguments marked as more topical, by whatever grammatical means tend to persist much longer in the subsequent discourse. b.

Anaphoric accessibility For at least some topic-coding grammatical devices, arguments marked by them will tend to have already been topical in the preceding discourse.

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

199

The use of these heuristic measures of topicality can be illustrated by contrasting the subject with the DO and the DO with the IO in connected discourse. In table (51) below we summarize the cataphoric persistence of subjects and direct objects in five languages. Persistence is expressed in terms of the % of arguments that recur either twice or less (0–2; less topical), or more than twice (>2; topical) in the next 10 clauses following their appearance, as subjects or objects, in a clause. (51) Cataphoric persistence of subjects and objects of transitive clauses in Sahaptin, Panare, Bella-Coola, Korean and Spanish (Givón ed. 1994) occurrences in the following % clauses 0–2 language Sahaptin subj obj Panare subj obj Bella Coola subj obj Korean subj obj Spanish subj obj

>2

total

N

%

N

%

N

%

9 21

19.6% 61.8%

37 13

80.4% 38.4%

46 34

100.0% 100.0%

9 19

31.0% 65.5%

20 10

69.0% 34.5%

29 29

100.0% 100.0%

27 82

21.4% 65.1%

99 44

78.6% 34.9%

126 126

100.0% 100.0%

53 106

35.3% 72.0%

97 44

64.7% 28.0%

150 150

100.0% 100.0%

19 70

19.0% 70.0%

81 30

81.0% 30.0%

100 100

100.0% 100.0%

Similar measures have been performed to establish the more topical status of the DO over indirect objects (Givón ed. 1983a; Rude 1987). 4.4.2.2
The topicality hierarchies of clausal arguments In Chapter 3, above, we discussed the preferred argument structure found in simple clauses. That is, the mapping from semantic roles to the GRs subject and DO. We noted there two universal constraints, reproduced below: (52) Constraints on mapping from semantic roles to grammatical relations in simple clauses a. An agent can only be the subject. b. A patient can only be a subject or DO. c. A dative can be a subject, DO or IO. d. All other semantic roles can only be IOs.

200 Syntax

(53) Prototypical mapping between semantic and syntactic transitivity If the simple clause codes a semantically transitive event, the event’s agent will be the clause’s subject, and the event’s patient the clause’s direct object. We noted, further, that these constraints are in part a matter of definition, being partly the consequence of our defining the main, declarative, affirmative, active clause as the unmarked, neutral clause type in syntax. We are now in the position to further generalize on these constraints, in terms of the hierarchy of topicality of semantic roles: (54) Hierarchy of topicality of semantic roles (Hawkinson and Hyman 1974; Givón 1976) Agt > Dat/Ben > Pat > Loc > others Hierarchy (54) is interpreted in terms of preferred accessibility to the GRs of subject and DO in the simple clause: (55) a. Access to subject GR If the simple clause has an agent argument, it has the highest claim to the subject GR. Otherwise the claim passes down hierarchy (54) in order. b. Access to object GR If the simple clause has a dative/benefactive argument, it has the highest claim to the direct object GR. Otherwise the claim passes down hierarchy (54) in order. Given our suggestion that the subject and direct-object GRs are the grammaticalized primary and secondary topic in the clause, respectively, constraints (55a,b) represent a clear bias in human language toward considering the event’s human/animate actorinitiator (Agt) the most topic-worthy in discourse; the mentally-engaged human participant (Dat/Ben) as next in line; the participant displaying the most salient impact of the event (Pat) as next in line; the event’s spatial frame (Loc) as next in line; and all others further down the line. The fact that the agent is out of the competition for direct objecthood (55b) is merely the consequence of its winning the top prize in the more important competition to subjecthood (55a). The primacy of the agents at the top contender to subjecthood in the simple clause is upheld by the fact that only in passive, inverse or other de-transitive voice clauses (Chapter 13) can the agent be demoted from subjecthood. The primacy of the dative as the next in line in the competition for subjecthood in the simple clause is supported by the grammatical behavior of clauses with dative but no agent participant, even when they are case-marked as dative-objects, as in (46) above. The primacy of the dative-benefactive in the competition for direct-objecthood is supported by the fact that in most languages it is obligatorily made the DO. And in the few languages such as English where it can be either the DO or IO, it is nonetheless overwhelmingly the DO at the level of text frequency (see §4.5.2 below). Finally, the primacy of the patient as next in line to subjecthood, following the dative, is upheld be the fact that no other semantic role further down the hierarchy (54) can be the subject of simple clauses. And the patient’s primacy as next in line to direct objecthood,

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

following the dative-benefactive, is upheld by the fact that, absent a dative-benefactive participant, the patient is the preferred DO in simple clauses. As well as by the great textfrequency of transitive clauses with patient DOs. 4.4.3 Major types of case-marking systems The three main types of case-marking systems select one of the three functional-adaptive imperatives (50) as the primary principle governing the case-marking of subjects and objects: semantic roles; •
coding
coding function; •
coding pragmatic transitivity. • We will describe these three systems in order, noting some of the most common subvariants. 4.4.3.1
Semantically-oriented case-marking: The so-called active-stative system As noted above, most languages already orient the case-marking of IOs towards coding semantic roles. But the languages belonging to the active-stative type also orient the casemarking of their subjects and direct-objects this way. As an example, consider Chickasaw (Western Muskogean), in which a three-way distinction — agent vs. patient vs. dative — is coded only in the pronominal affixes of the verb (Munro and Gordon 1982): (56) a. AGT subject, Pat object of transitive [Ø]-kisili-li 3/pat-bite-1/agt ‘I bite him/her’ b. AGT subject of intransitive chokma-li good-1/agt ‘I act good’ c. PAT subject of transitive sa-chokma 1/pat-good ‘I am good’ d. DAT subject, PAT object paska [Ø]-in-champoli bread 3/pat-3/dat-like ‘s/he likes bread’ One major variant of this system marks the contrast between agent and non-agent, with the latter conflating together patient and dative. As an illustration, consider Seneca (Iroquois),

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where this distinction is marked primarily on pronouns, most commonly the pronominal affixes on the verb (Chafe and Mithun 1995): (57) a. AGT subject wa’-k-atënyë-? fact-1sg/aft-save-pfv ‘I saved it’ b. DAT subject wak-ka’h-as nae ni’ 1sg/nagt-like.taste-impv emph I ‘I myself like the taste of it’ c. PAT subject & object ‘iya-ni-ma-ha¸kecha that-2/nagt-1/nagt-be.long ‘I am as long as you are’ d. AGT subject, DAT object ‘I talked to you/her’ But the case-marking in active-stative systems can involve full NPs, as is the case in Laz (Caucasian), where it is again a two-way distinction between agent and non-agent (Harris 1985): (58) a. AGT and PAT of transitive kochi-k doqvilu gheji man-agt 3sg.kill.3sg dog/nagt ‘the man killed the dog’ b. AGT subject of intransitive jogho-epe-k-ti lales dog-pl-agt-too 3pl.bark ‘the dogs bark too’ c. AGT subj, LOC IO bere-k isteru ghoji-s child-agt 3sg.play yard-loc ‘the child plays in the yard’ d. PAT subject of intransitive kochi doghuru man/nagt 3sg.died ‘the man died’ e. AGT subject, PAT DO & DAT IO of bi-transitive baba-k cxeni mechu sikiri-s father-agt horse/nagt 3sg.give.3sg.3sg child-loc ‘the father gave a horse to the child’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

While the morphology of case-marking is indeed semantically oriented in active-stative languages, behavior and control properties can re-unify the categories of subject and direct object. This can indeed be shown in active-stative Caucasian languages such as Laz (58). In other languages, the argument may be a bit more murky. Thus, for example, Mithun (1991) has noted that Iroquois languages such as Seneca (57), as well as some other languages with strong semantically-oriented case-marking, have few if any GR-governed constructions, since all clause-types are finite. She goes on to conclude that the GRs subject and DO remain ungrammaticalized in such languages. The extreme finiteness of Iroquois languages is reminiscent of Tolowa Athabaskan, noted in (35)/(36) above. However, one may perhaps argue that the control of zero appearance of full NPs in complement clauses in all these languages is still governed by the subject or DO of their main verb. This argument was indeed raised for Tolowa (37), though it is perhaps weaker in languages with obligatory subject and object pronominal marking on the verb, such as Iroquois. In principle, at any rate, our prototype approach to GRs accommodates languages in which GRs go ungrammaticalized. 4.4.3.2
Pragmatically-oriented case-marking: The nominative-accusative system 4.4.3.2.1
Some common patterns. We have already seen and discussed, albeit informally, nominative-accusative languages such as English, Japanese, Tolowa-Athabaskan, Ute of Lunda-Ndembu. In such languages, the case-marking morphology is keyed towards coding the grammaticalized subject (nominative) and direct-object (accusative), regardless of semantic roles or transitivity. Examples (1) and (2) above, showing the dissociation of the subject and DO from semantic roles are precisely the types of examples that establish a language as having grammaticalized subject and DO, thus having a nominative-accusative case-marking system. There are several main sub-variations of the nominative-accusative case-marking system. A language may have case-marking on full NPs but not on pronouns or verbal pronominal affixes, as in Japanese: (59) a. Intransitive subject sense-ga tooku-e itta teacher-nom away-loc went ‘the teacher went away’ b. Transitive subject & object otoko-ga onna-ni tegami-o kaita man-nom woman-dat letter-acc sent ‘the man sent a letter to the woman’ c. Transitive, anaphoric subject & object [Ø] onna-ni [Ø] kaita s/he woman-dat it sent ‘s/he sent it to the woman’

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A language may have no grammatical case-marking on full NPs but only on pronouns, as in English: (60) a. b. c. d.

Mary slept Mary left John She left him He left her

(intransitive Subj) (transitive Subj & Obj) (trans., anaphoric Subj & Obj) (trans., anaphoric Subj & Obj)

A language may have no marking on the full-NP subject but marking on the full-NP object, plus full marking on pronouns and affixes, as in Hebrew: (61) a. Intransitive subject Yoav halax ha-bayt-a Y. went/3sg.masc/nom def-house-all ‘Yoav went home’ b. Transitive subject & object Yoav ahav et-Rachel Y. loved/3sg.masc/nom acc-R. ‘Yoav loved Rachel’ c. Transitive (anaphoric Subj & Obj) hu ahav ot-a 3sg.masc/nom loved/3sg.masc/nom acc-3sg.fem ‘he loved her’ d. Transitive (anaphoric Subj & Obj) hi ahav-a ot-o 3sg.fem/nom loved-3sg.fem/nom acc-3sg.masc ‘she loved him’ A language may have no case-marking on full NPs but distinct case-marking on verbal pronominal affixes, at least for 1st and 2nd persons, as in Tolowa-Athabaskan (Bommelyn 1997): (62) a. Intransitive subject ch’u =sne dee-[Ø]-yu =n man thm-3sg-sing ‘the man sings’ b. Transitive subject & object ch’u =sne ya¸a¸xu =shchuh [Ø]-yu =-s-[Ø]-tł-tr’i¸nt’ man sasquatch 3sg/acc-tr-perf-3sg/nom-l-kill ‘the man killed the sasquatch’ c. Transitive (anaphoric Subj & Obj) [Ø]-yu =-s-[Ø]-tł-tr’i¸nt’ 3sg/acc-tr-perf-3sg/nom-l-kill ‘s/he killed him/her’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

d. Intransitive subject du =-sh-yu =n thm-1sg-sing ‘I sing’ e. Intransitive subject du =¸= u¸ -[n]-yu =n thm-2sg/nom-sing ‘you sing’ f.

Transitive subject & object nn-tu =-sh-’í¸ 2sg/acc-thm-1sg/nom-observe ‘I observe you’

g. Transitive subject & object sh-tu =¸= u¸ -[n]-’í¸ 1sg/acc-thm-2sg/nom-observe ‘you observe me’ To my knowledge, there are no nominative-accusative languages with a morphologicallymarked subject but an unmarked object. But at least in principle this is a possible type, derived diachronically from re-analysis of another well-known type, the ergative-absolutive system (§4.4.3.3 below). 4.4.3.2.2
The dative-subject incursion. As noted earlier above (§4.3.2.3) dative subjects constitute a well-know distortion in the nominative case-marking orientation, in the sense that the primary topic in the clause is marked for its semantic role of dative rather than for its pragmatic role of subject. We have noted, further, that in a nominative language this creates mixed GR properties, at least so far as overt coding properties are concerned. Dative subjects crop up, under one guise or another, in many if not most nominative languages. They represent a lacuna in the topicality-oriented case-marking system, where semantic-role orientation takes over the case-marking of some verbs. The fact that English only recently reanalyzed verbs such as ‘want’, ‘think’, ‘know’, ‘fear’, ‘need’ etc. from dative subject to nominative subject is but one testimony to the ubiquity of this phenomenon. The fact that in strongly-nominative languages such as Spanish, English, Hebrew or Japanese one finds either nominative or dative marking of semantically near-identical predicates is further testimony to the emergent potential of this conflicting pattern. Thus compare: (63) Spanish a. NOM subject Juan quier-e las montañas John want-3sg/nom the mountains ‘John loves the mountains’

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b. DAT subject a-Juan le-gust-an las montañas dat-John 3sg/dat-please-3pl/nom the mountains ‘John likes the mountains’ (64) English a. NOM subject I think you’re right b. DAT subject It seem-s to-me that you’re right 3sg/inan/nom seem-3sg/nom dat-1sg/dat … (65) Hebrew a. NOM subject hi tsrix-a et-ze she need-sf acc-this ‘she needs this’ b. DAT subject naxuts l-a et-ze necessary/sm dat-3sg.fem acc-this ‘this is necessary for her’ c. NOM subject hi lakx-a et-a-sefer 3sg.fem/nom take/past-3sg.fem/nom acc-the-book ‘she took the book’ d. DAT subject hay-a l-a et-ha-sefer be/past-3sg.masc/nom dat-3sg.fem acc-the-book ‘she had the book’ e. DAT subject hay-u l-a et-ha-sfarim be/past-3pl dat-3sg.fem acc-the-books ‘she had the books’ The conflict between semantic and pragmatic control of overt coding properties of GRs is particularly vivid in Hebrew possession clauses, where the non-topical argument may still control the nominative (Subj) pronominal agreement on the verb, but — when definite — is marked as accusative (DO), and claims the object slot in this SVO language. A variant resolution of the conflict may be seen in Kannada (Dravidian). In this rigid SOV-ordered language, dative subjects claim the subject slot but are marked with the dative suffix. The non-topical argument occupies the object slot but is marked as nominative and controls nominative-subject verb agreement (Sridhar 1976):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(66) a. makkal» u-ge bayarike agide children-dat thirst/nom happened/3sg/nom ‘the children were thirsty’ (lit.: ‘to the children thirst happened’) b. makkal» u-ge nagu baratte children-dat laughter/nom come/3sg/nom ‘the children are cheerful’ (lit.: ‘to the children laughter comes’) c. aval» i-ge ibbaru makkal» u iddaru she-dat two children/nom be/3pl/nom ‘she has two children’ (lit.: ‘to her there are two children’) d. makkal» u-ge i vicara gotta? children-dat this matter/nom be-known/3sg/nom/q ‘Do the children know this?’ (lit.: ‘Is this known to the children?’) e. makkal» u-ge tayiya jnapaka bantu children-dat mother/gen memory/nom came/3sg/nom ‘the children remembered his mother’ (lit.: ‘to the children the memory of his mother came’) Indeed, the contrast between a nominative and dative subject is often used in Kannada to code the difference between intended and unintended events (Sridhar 1976): (67) a. NOM subject avanu javara barisi-kond» a he/nom fever/acc come-caused/3sg.masc/nom ‘He got the fever (intentionally)’ b. DAT subject avani-ge jvara bantu he-dat fever/nom came/3sg/nom ‘He caught the fever (unintentionally)’ (lit.: ‘to him fever came’) c. NOM subject avanu i suddi til» idu-kond» anu he/nom this news/acc know-caused/3sg.masc/nom ‘he learned of this news (deliberately)’ d. DAT subject avani-ge i suddi til» iyitu he-dat this news/nom become.known/3sg/nom ‘he came to know the news (unintentionally)’ (lit.: ‘the news became known to him’)

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4.4.3.3
Transitivity-oriented case-marking: The ergative-absolutive system The ergative-absolutive case-marking system is governed by the principle of transitivity. It is, first and foremost, a system where case-marking codes the syntactic distinction between transitive and intransitive clauses. However, given the strong correlation in many languages between semantic and syntactic transitivity, factors that are to begin with semantic — agentivity, affectedness, perfectivity — turn out to have strong clause-level syntactic consequences in ergative languages. 4.4.3.3.1
Overall characteristics. In an ergative-absolutive language answering to the ‘classical’ description (Comrie 1978; Dixon 1979), the subject of the transitive clause displays ergative case-marking, while both the object of the transitive and the subject of the intransitive clause share an absolutive case-marking, most commonly zero. As an example consider Nepali (Indic; R. Shresta, i.p.c.): (68) a. Transitive (masc. subj) manis-le aymay dekh-yo man-erg woman/abs see-perf/3sg.masc ‘the man saw a/the woman’ b. Transitive (fem. subject) aymay-le manis dekh-yin woman-erg man/abs see-past/3sg.fem ‘the woman saw a/the man’ c. Simple intransitive (masc. subject) manis uphr-yo man/abs jump-perf/3sg.masc ‘the man jumped’ d. Simple intransitive (fem. subject) aymay uphr-yin ‘the woman jumped’ e. Locative intransitive (masc. subject) manis gho¸r-ma go¸-yo man/abs house-to go-perf/3sg.masc ‘the man went to the house’ f.

Locative intransitive (fem. subject) aymay gho¸r-ma go¸-yin woman/abs house-to go-3sg.fem ‘the woman went to the house’

As can be seen, while nominal case-marking in Nepali indeed follows the ‘classical’ ergative-absolutive pattern, pronominal subject agreement on the verb is controlled by a nominative principle, i.e. by the subject regardless of transitivity. But the ergative-absolutive system can involve both the full-NP arguments and the verb pronominal affixes, as is the case in Yu’pik (Eskimo; Chafe and Mithun 1995):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(69) a. Intransitive angun kitur-tu-q man/abs pass-intran-3sg/abs ‘the man passed by’ b. Intransitive kitur-tu-a pass-intran-1sg/abs ‘I passed by’ c. Transitive angute-m luqruuyak ner-a-a man-erg pike/abs eat-trans-3sg.erg/3sg.abs ‘the man ate the pike’ d. Transitive uqruuyak ner-a-ku pike/abs eat-trans-1sg.erg/3sg.abs ‘I ate the pike’ In the intransitive (69a,b) the verb is marked with an intransitive-indicative suffix and agrees only with the absolutive subject. In the transitive (69c,d) the verb is marked with the transitive-indicative suffix and agrees with both the ergative subject and absolutive object. But ergative-absolutive morphology may also be confined to the verb pronominal morphology, as is the case in Mayan languages. Thus, from Jacaltec (Craig 1976, 1977): (70) a. Intransitive x-[Ø]-to-pax naj-winay perf-3sg/abs-go-back the/cl-man ‘the man returned’ b. Transitive x-[Ø]-y-acañ naj-winaj te’-ñah perf-3sg/abs-3sg/erg-build the/cl-man the/cl-house ‘the man built the house’ The morphological unity of the absolutive NP, grouping the subject of intransitive with the object of transitive clauses, is not a necessary feature of ergative languages. Thus, in Nez Perce (Sahaptian) the absolutive subject of the intransitive is morphologically a zero, while the absolutive object of the transitive is marked as direct object with a suffix (Rude 1984): (71) a. Intransitive haama hi-paanya man/nom 3sg/nom-come/perf ‘the man came’ b. Transitive haama-nm pee-’wiye wewukiye-na man-erg 3sg/erg-shoot/perf elk-do ‘the man shot the elk’

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The pronominal agreement on the verb in Nez Perce also follows an ergative-absolutive split, though of a different type than that of Jacaltec (70). The absolutive subject of the intransitive clause controls one set of verb pronominal affixes (71a). The ergative subject of the transitive controls another (71b). A reminiscent situation is found in Newari, Nepali, and in general in Indic languages, where the dative suffix has expanded its role towards marking more topical patients — thus direct objects. One must note, finally, that there may be some languages where the ergative-absolutive principle applies to word-order. Thus Gildea (1998) reports that in some otherwisenominative Carib languages, the rigid word-order of transitive clauses is O-V-S, while in intransitive clauses is S-V. In other words the absolutive (Subj of intransitive, Obj of transitive) has the pre-verbal slot, the ergative (Subj of transitive) the post-verbal slot. That is (Panare; Gildea 1998): (72) a. Transitive O V S arakon petyuma-ne ku =h ku =n monkey hit-t/a aux s/he ‘s/he’s gonna hit the monkey’ b. Intransitive S V ake wu =-tu =-n snake intr-go-t/a ‘the snake goes’ In a somewhat similar vein, in many otherwise-nominative languages, noun incorporation into the verb is governed by an absolutive — thus ergative — principle (Mithun 1984). This may be seen in English nominalized noun–verb compounds, as in: (73) a. Intransitive S V Caribou-migration b. Transitive O V caribou-hunting

(Caribou migrate)

(Someone hunts caribou)

4.4.3.3.2
Split ergative-nominative morphology: Gradients of transitivity. Designating a language as ergative-absolutive does not mean it displays ergative-absolutive morphology in all contexts. But this is only to be expected in line of what was noted earlier about the three conflicting adaptive pressures that motivate grammatical case-marking. We have noted, for example, that almost all languages regardless of case-marking typology let the behavior-and-control properties of GRs to be governed by the discourse-pragmatic principle of topicality. In the same vein, we noted that many otherwise-nominative languages allow a lacuna of semantic-role-governed GRs in the domain of dative subjects. Indeed, this lacuna is also found in otherwise-ergative languages, as can be seen in Sherpa:

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

211

(74) a. Intransitive ti mi-ti cham-sung the man-def/abs dance-perf ‘the man danced’ b. Transitive (Agt subject) ti mi-ti-gi chenyi chax-sung the man-def-erg cup/abs break-perf ‘the man broke the cup’ c. Transitive (Dat subject) ti mi-ti-la chenyi go-kyaa-sung the man-def-dat cup/abs want-aux-perf ‘the man wanted the cup’ In this section we will survey so-called split ergativity. That is, various contexts in which otherwise-ergative languages may revert to nominative-accusative case-marking. While the splits are not identical in all ergative languages, their directionality is highly predictable, and may be expressed as an implicational hierarchic prediction: (75) Transitivity and ergative-absolutive morphology If a language has ergative-absolutive morphology in a less transitive context, it will also have it in a more-transitive context; but not vice versa. The predictive principle (75) may be translated into more concrete transitivity hierarchies: (76) Syntactic transitivity a. Simple clause: transitive > intransitive b. Passive de-transitive: topical Agt > non-topical Agt c. Antipassive de-transitive: topical Pat > non-topical Pat Semantic transitivity d. Agentivity (subject): e. Affectedness (object): f. Perfectivity (verb): g. Modality (verb):

Agt > Non-Agt more affected > less affected perfective > imperfective real > unreal

Pragmatic topicality h. Topicality of subject:

topical > non-topical

a.

Simple clauses We have already defined the ergative-absolutive cause-marking as one that appears only in transitive clauses, while intransitive clauses remain governed by the pragmatic adaptive imperative — i.e. nominative syntax. One may consider this as the core manifestation of split ergativity, following prediction (76a). b.

De-transitive clauses In all ergative languages, passive clauses, in which the agent is de-topicalized ((76b); Chapter 13), and antipassive clauses, in which the patient is de-topicalized ((76c);

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Chapter 13), revert back to nominative case-marking and, when applicable, to intransitive marking on the verb. As an illustration, consider Nez Perce (Sahaptian; Rude 1984): (77) a. Intransitive haama hi-paanya man/nom 3sg/nom-come/perf ‘the man came’ b. Transitive haama-nm pee-’wiye wewukiye-na man-erg 3sg/erg-shoot/perf elk-DO ‘the man shot the elk’ c. Antipassive (de-topicalized PAT) haama hi-’wiye (wewukiye) man/nom 3sg/nom-shoot/perf elk ‘the man shot (an/some elk)’ d. Passive (de-topicalized AGT) wewukiye ‘ewy-iin hi-weeke elk/nom shoot-stat 3sg/nom-be/perf ‘the elk was shot’ Both in terms of case-marking and verbal morphology, the passive (77c) and antipassive (77d) in Nez Perce display the intransitive clause’s nominative pattern. c.

Agentivity In some ergative languages, more agentive subjects of syntactically intransitive clauses will display ergative marking, and less agentive subjects of transitive clauses may display absolutive/nominative marking. In Nepali (Indic), for example, semantically-dative subjects may take either an ergative or a dative marking, depending on whether the mental activity was intended or not (R. Shresta, i.p.c.): (78) a. Ava-le Nepali thaha-pa-yin R.-erg Nepali/abs know-get-perf/3sg.fem ‘Ava learned Nepali (actively)’ b. Ava-lay Nepali thaha-bho¸-yo R.-dat Nepali/abs know-become-perf/3sg.masc ‘Ava came to know Nepali (passively)’ c. Ava-le Nepali chin-chin A.-erg Nepali/abs know-impv/3sg.fem ‘Ava knows Nepali (actively)’ d. Ava-lay Nepali awuñ-cho Ava-dat Nepali/abs come-impv/3sg.masc ‘Ava is acquainted with Nepali (passively)’ Sometimes the same variation is used in Nepali to indicate pragmatic focus on the subject vs. lack thereof, even with an intransitive verb:

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(79) a. Context:

b. Context:

‘Who got angry?’ Raj-le risa:-yo R.-erg angry-perf/3sg.masc ‘Raj got angry’ ‘What happened to Raj?’ Raj-lay risa:-yo R.-dat angry-perf/3sg.masc ‘Raj got really angry’

Finally, the extension of the ergative subject marker to many intransitive verbs with agentive subjects is widespread in Nepali, provided the subject is human and acts intentionally: (80) a. manis-le bhuñy-ma sut-yo man-erg floor-on sleep-perf/2sg.masc ‘the man slept on the floor (deliberate act)’ b. manis bhuñy-ma sut-yo man/abs floor-loc sleep-perf/2sg.masc ‘the man slept on the floor (mere location)’ c. Ram-le gho¸r cho¸d-yo R.-erg house/abs leave-perf/3sg ‘Ram left the house (deliberate act)’ d. Ram gho¸r-bato¸ a-yo Ram/abs house-from come-perf/3sg ‘Ram came from the house (mere motion)’ e. Ram-le po¸har-mathi cho¸dh-yo Ram-erg mountain-top climb-perf/3sg.masc ‘Ram climbed on top of the mountain (deliberate act)’ f. Ram po¸har-ma go¸-yo Ram/abs mountain-loc go-perf/3sg.masc ‘Ram went to the mountain (mere motion)’ d.

Affectedness In some ergative languages, transitive verbs with less-affected patients (76e) may lose their ergative-absolutive marking and revert to intransitive (nominative) marking. As an illustration, consider Newari (Tibeto-Burman), in which this phenomenon is intertwined with perfectivity (see directly below). Transitive verbs with a prototypical visibly-affected patient requires ergative-transitive marking in all tense-aspects (H. Dhaubhadel, i.p.c.): (81) a. manu-na¸ jhya ta¸jya-ta¸ man-erg window/abs break-perf ‘the man broke a window’ b. manu-na¸ jhya ta¸jya-yi co-gu du man-erg window/abs break-imperf be-nom be ‘the man is breaking a window’

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c. manu-na¸ jhya ta¸jya-yi man-erg window/abs break-imperf ‘the man will break a window’ Transitive verbs with less-visibly affected patients take the ergative marking obligatorily in the perfective/past, but only optionally in the imperfective present or future: (82) a. manu-na¸ la¸ to-na¸ man-erg water/abs drink-perf ‘the man drank water’ b. manu(-na¸) la¸ to-ni co-gu du man(-erg) water/abs drink-imperf be-nom be ‘the man is drinking water’ c. manu(-na¸) la¸ to-ni man(-erg) water/abs drink-imperf ‘the man will drink water’ Finally, transitive verbs with a cognate object — clearly not an affected patient — take ergative morphology in the perfective, nominative morphology in the imperfective present, and either in the future: (82) a. manu-na¸ me ha-la¸ man-erg song/abs sing-perf ‘the man sang a song’ b. manu me ha-yi co-gu du man/nom song/abs sing-imperf be-nom be ‘the man is singing a song’ c. manu(-na¸) me ha-yi man-erg song/abs sing-imperf ‘the man will sing a song’ e.

Perfectivity and modality Probably the best-known split in ergative morphology is that conditioned by perfectivity (76f) and modality (76g), whereby transitive clauses will display ergative-absolutive morphology only in the perfective (realis, past), but will revert to nominative morphology in the imperfective (progressive, habitual) or irrealis (future, conditional). As an illustration, consider Sherpa (Tibeto-Burman; K. Lama, i.p.c.): (83) a. Perfective/past ti mi-ti-gi chenyi chaax-sung the man-def-erg cup break-perf/3sg ‘the man broke the cup’ b. Imperfective/progressive ti mi-ti chenyi chaax-ki-no the man-def/abs cup break-aux-imperf/3sg ‘the man is breaking the cup’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

c. Imperfective/future ti mi-ti chenyi cho-ki-wi the man-def/abs cup break-aux-imperf/3sg ‘the man will break the cup’ f.

Topicality of subject One might note, lastly, that gradients in the topicality of the subject (76h) may, at least in some ergative languages, affect ergative marking of the clause even without syntactic detransitivization. Thus Foster (1985) reports that in Timbe (Papuan) ergative marking may appear in intransitive clauses when their subject is more topical, in the sense discussed in §4.4.2 above. The expected contrast between a transitive (84a) and an intransitive (84b) clause is indeed there when the intransitive subject does not persist beyond its own clause (84b). But more persistent intransitive subjects (84c,d) take the ergative suffix (Foster 1985): (84) a. Transitive nga-nge nanang sokoweo I-erg child/abs carry/mod/1sg ‘I must carry the child’ b. Intransitive (non-persistent topic) amba are bamb-i, … women those/abs leave/perf/ds  ‘the women left, (and someone else…)’ c. Intransitive (persistent topic) dua are-nge togo-m, kalap me-m, lamun-do, … dog that-erg come-ss fire hold-ss strike.spark-ds  ‘the dog came, held the fire, and struck sparks, (and then someone else…)’ d. Intransitive (persistent topic) pelak are-nge ga-m, ingon arim-bo, … insect that-erg descent-ss down go-ds  ‘the insect descended, going down there, (and then someone else…)’ 4.4.3.3.3
Other hierarchies. In a well-known paper, Silverstein (1976) reported that in many ergative languages the following hierarchic control of split ergativity is found: (85) Silverstein’s ergativity feature hierarchies a. Anaphoricity: NP > PRO b. Definiteness: Indef > Def c. Number: Pl > Sg d. Person: 3rd > 2nd > 1st Hierarchies (85) are interpreted as follows: The likelihood of ergative-absolutive marking of transitive clauses is highest when the agent and/or patient are at the top — left — of the

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hierarchic scale. As an illustration of one of these hierarchies (85d), consider the person split in Nez Perce (Sahaptian; Rude 1984): (86) a. 3rd > 3rd = Erg ’ip-nim pee-wi’y (wewukiye-ne) 3sg-erg erg/3-shot (elk-DO) ‘s/he shot it (the elk)’ b. 1st > 3rd = Erg ’ii-n ’e-’wiye (wewukiye-ne) 1sg-erg erg/1-shot (elk-DO) ‘I shot it (the elk)’ c. 2nd > 3rd = Erg ’e-’wiye (wewukiye-ne) erg/2-shot (elk-DO) d. 3rd > 1st = Nom ’ip hi-’wiye ’ii-ne 3sg/nom nom/3-shot 1sg-DO ‘s/he shot me’ e. 2nd > 1st [Ø]-’wiye ’ii-ne nom/2-shot 1sg-DO ‘you shot me’ On the face of it, the predictions of hierarchies (85) don’t make a tremendous amount of sense for either the patient or agent of transitive events. This is so because they consistently predict that ergative-transitive morphology is more likely with participants lower on the topicality of the hierarchy. One cannot but wonder why these predictions pan out only in some ergative languages but not in others, especially that one of them (85a) even contradicts what was noted for Mayan (and many other ergative languages), where the ergative marking appears only in the pronominal system but not in full-NPs. As Rude (1984, 1985) points out, however, the ergative-active pattern in Nez Perce arose historically from an old inverse clause, used when the patient/object is higher on the topicality hierarchy than the agent/subject (Chapter 13). In the inverse clause in Sahaptin, closely related to Nez Perce, the less-topical agent is marked by the obviate suffix, which became the ergative suffix in Nez Perce. In other words, Silverstein’s topicality hierarchies make better sense in inverse clauses, where they are indeed wide-spread (see Dahlstrom 1986 for Algonquian; Thompson 1989 for Athabaskan; Givón ed. 1994a). The fact that constraints normally associated with inverse clauses show up in ergative languages is due, most likely, to the diachronic rise of ergative clauses from the reanalysis of inverse clauses (Shibatani 1985; Givón 1995: Ch. 6). This source of ergative clauses was previously mis-identified as passive clauses (Anderson 1977; Chung 1977; Estival & Myhill 1984, inter alia), which often overlap functionally with the inverse (Givón ed. 1994b). This is another example of how functional re-analysis outpaces the more conservative, recalcitrant morphology in diachronic change (see also §4.4.3.3.4, directly below).

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

4.4.3.3.4
Morphological vs. syntactic ergativity. As Anderson (1976) has noted, in most ergative languages the ergative-absolutive pattern of transitive clauses confines itself to just the morphology — either nominal case-marking or pronominal agreement or both. Behavior-and-control properties in most ergative languages are controlled by the GRs subject and DO regardless of transitivity. Most ergative languages are thus ‘surface’ ergative languages, whose ergativity involves only the overt coding properties of GRs. Their ‘deeper’ behavior-and-control properties abide by the nominative-accusative principle. Such misalignment is indeed a notorious case of conflict between overt coding properties (5) and behavior-and-control properties (8) of GRs. In a few — so called ‘syntactic’ or ‘deep’ — ergative languages, however, several behavior-and-control properties align with the ergative-absolutive morphology. This ‘deep’ ergativity was first described in Dyirbal (Dixon 1972) and Eskimo (Woodbury 1977). As an illustration of ergative-absolutive control of syntactic processes, consider Karao (Philippine), where the basic voice-clauses display an ergative-absolutive pattern morphology in the transitive, contrasting with the nominative (absolutive) morphology of the various intransitives (Brainard 1997): (87) a. Intransitive (nominative) ’on-jo’kow ’i-nga’nga pat/irr-sleep abs-child ‘the child will sleep’ b. Transitive (ergative) kapkaf-en na-nga’nga ’i-mangka chop-agt/irr erg-child abs-mango ‘the child will chop the mangoes’ c. Antipassive de-transitive (nominative) men-gapkap ’i-nga’nga na-mangka agt/irr-chop abs-child obl-mango ‘the child will chop mangoes’ d. Passive de-transitive (nominative) me-kapkap ’i-mangka (na-nga’nga) pat/pass/irr-chop abs-mangoes obl-child ‘the mangoes will be chopped (by the child)’ As Brainard (1997) points out, zero marking in several equi-subject clauses — complementation, raising from subject to object — proceeds alike for both ergative and absolutive subjects of the complement. In other words, equi is controlled by the nominative: (88) a. Abs subject of intransitive Comp piyan-ko ’a-jo’kow-ak want-1sg/erg sub-sleep-1sg/abs ‘I want to sleep’

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b. Erg subject of transitive Com piyan-ko ’a-kapkap-ko ’i-mangka want-1sg/erg sub-chop-1sg/erg abs-mangoes ‘I want to cut the mangoes’ On the other hand, relativization in Karao is controlled by the absolutive GR, i.e. along an ergative-absolutive pattern. The subject-agent of the transitive can only be relativized out of the antipassive de-transitive clause, where it is an absolutive subject (89a), much like the intransitive subject in (89c). The object-patient, on the other hand, is relativized out of the ergative-transitive clause (89b), where it is also the absolutive argument: (89) a. Transitive Subj relativization m-iy-tak-ko ’i-nga’ngen ’eng-omas na-’amayo agt/perf-see-1sg/erg abs-child/sub perf/ap-break obl-toy ‘I saw the child who broke the toy’ b. Transitive Obj relativization m-iy-tak-ko’ ’i-nga’ngen ’omas-iy na-nga’nga agt/perf-see-1sg/erg abs-child/sub break-agt/perf obl-child ‘I saw the toy that the child broke’ c. Intransitive Subj relativization m-iy-tak-ko ’i-nga’ngen ’on-jo’kow agt/perf-see-1sg/erg abs-child/sub pat/irr-sleep ‘I saw the child who will sleep’ In nominative languages, zero anaphora in clause chaining is typically controlled by the nominative NP, as in English: (90) a. b. c. d.

Mary met Joe and [Ø] greeted him *Mary met Joe and he greeted [Ø] Mary came over and [Ø] greeted Joe *Mary came over and Joe greeted [Ø]

In Karao, on the other hand, the absolutive NP controls 100% of zero anaphora in clause chaining (Brainard 1997): (91) a. ’-iy-ala na-nga’nga ’i-mangka ’et k-iy-akan-to [Ø] agt/perf-get erg-child abs-mango and agt/perf-eat-3sg/erg [Ø] ‘The child got the mango and ate it’ (lit.: ‘The child got the mango and he ate’) b. ’in-toro na-maistara ’i-nga’nga ’et ’iyan-kansion [Ø] agt/perf-point erg-teacher abs-child and agt/perf-sing [Ø] ‘the teacher pointed at the child and s/he (the child/*the teacher) sang’ The misalignment between overt coding and behavior-and-control properties in most (‘surface’) ergative languages, as against the — at least partial — alignment between the two in a few (‘deep’) ergative languages, once again finds a natural diachronic explanation:

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

properties are strongly motivated by topicality, and are thus •
Behavior-and-control most naturally expected to reflect nominative control.
In change, functional properties change first, with morphology lagging • fargrammatical behind. ergative languages are old ergative languages. Their behavior-and-control •
Most properties have had enough time to realign themselves with the nominative control principle. Only their morphology remains a relic of their old syntax. Hence their ‘surface’ ergativity.
‘Deep’ ergative languages, in Australia, Eskimo, Philippine and Indonesia, have become ergative relatively recently. Their behavior-and-control properties thus still reflect those of an inverse clause in a nominative language.

•

Indeed, some behavior-and-control properties — such as zero marking under equi in raising and complementation — retain their nominative control even in the ‘deepest’ ergative languages, such as Karao. Note finally, how the zero-anaphora pattern in (90b,d), unacceptable in a nominative language, would make perfect sense if the transitive clause were re-interpreted as an inverse/passive: (92) a. b. c. d.

*Mary met Joe and he greeted [Ø] Mary met Joe and [Ø] was greeted by him *Mary came over and Joe greeted [Ø] Mary came over and [Ø] was greeted by Joe

4.5

The typology of direct objects

4.5.1

Overt coding properties: Degree of grammaticalization Much like the subject, the direct object GR displays considerable cross-language variation. One aspect of this variation involves the degree of grammaticalization of the DO, and the extent to which the object GR marked by word-order and morphology is dissociated from the most common semantic role that tends to occupy it, the patient. In many languages — Latin, Japanese, Sherpa, Hebrew — the distinction between direct and indirect object is made by word-order without morphology. As an illustration, compare English (93) with Hebrew (94): (93) a. Context: PAT-topic Who did she give the book to? b. Response: PAT = DO She gave it to Joe. c. Context: DAT-topic What did she give Joe? d. Response: DAT = DO She gave him the book.

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220 Syntax

(94) a. Response: PAT = DO hi natna ot-o le-Yosef she gave acc-it to-Y. ‘She gave it to Joseph’ b. Response: DAT = DO hi natna l-o et-ha-sefer she gave to-him acc-the-book ‘She gave him the book In English, the difference between (93b) and (93d) is coded by both word-order and morphology. In Hebrew, the equivalent functional difference between (94a) and (94b) is coded only by word order. This cross-language typological difference indeed abides by Keenan’s (1975) hierarchic predictions (47), reproduced below: (47) Implicational hierarchy of overt coding properties (Keenan 1975) case-marking > pronominal agreement > word-order That is, we find languages with only word-order overt coding of the DO (Latin, Hebrew, Japanese, Sherpa), or languages with both word-order and case-marking (English, LundaNdembu, KinyaRwanda), but no languages with only case-marking but no word-order coding of the DO. In the same vein, we find languages with both word-order and verb-pronominal coding of the DO but no case-marking, such as Machiguenga (So. Arawak; B. Snell, i.p.c.): (95) a. Topical Dat DO i-m-p-u-t-e-ro tsinane kamona 3masc-irr-give-dir-ep-irr-3fem woman chonta.palm ‘he may give the woman chonta-palm’ b. Topical Pat DO i-m-p-u-t-e-ri kamona tsinane 3masc-irr-give-dir-ep-irr-3masc chonta.palm woman ‘he may give chonta-palm to the woman’ But, so far as can be ascertained, no language has verb-pronominal coding of the DO without word-order coding. 4.5.2

Morphological promotion-to-DO and the topicality hierarchy 4.5.2.1
Preliminaries When the DO is a morphologically-marked category, a common dimension of crosslanguage variation is which non-patient argument can be made — or ‘promoted to’ — the DO.5 As noted in (55b) earlier above, the competition for the DO slot follows the implicational predictions of the topicality hierarchy (54). The prediction relevant to the DO, (55b), is reproduced below:

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(55) b. Access to the direct-object GR If the simple clause has a dative/benefactive argument, it has the highest claim to the direct object GR. Otherwise the claim passes down hierarchy (54) in the order: Dat/Ben(/Gen) > Pat > Loc > Assoc/Instr > others 4.5.2.2
Optional promotion of dative/benefactives The hierarchy in (55b) predicts that if a language can morphologically ‘promote’ any nonpatient to direct object, it would be the dative-benefactive. This ‘promotion’ is optional in English: (96) a. PAT DO, DAT IO (‘unpromoted’) He gave the book to Mary b. PAT DO, BEN IO (‘unpromoted’) He built a house for his mother c. DAT DO, PAT IO He gave her the book d. BEN DO, PAT IO He built her a house Note, however, that in English such promotion is restricted, occurring only with transitive verbs. Intransitive verbs don’t allow it: (97) a. b. c. d.

He talked to Mary *He talked her He worked for Mary *He worked her

4.5.2.3
Obligatory promotion of dative-benefactives In many languages, the promotion of dative-benefactives to DO is obligatory. That is, if a dative-benefactive object is at all present in the clause, it can only be the DO. Even in English, this is almost true at the text-frequency level, where ca. 90% of dative-benefactive objects appear as DOs (Givón 1984a). As an illustration of obligatory promotion, consider Lunda-Ndembu (Bantu). In this language, only the DO can claim the pre-verbal pronoun slot. Overt coding properties of DO involve word-order, zero case-marking and prefixal object pronoun on the verb (Kawasha 1999; Kawasha and Givón 1999): (98) a. Obligatorily promoted DAT n-e-enka mwaana mukaanda 1sg-past-give child book ‘I gave the child a book’

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Syntax

b. Unpromoted DAT *n-e-enka mukaanda (kudi-)mwaana 1sg-past-give book dat-child (*‘I gave the book (to) the child’) c. Promoted DAT, DAT pronoun n-a-mw-iinka mukaanda 1sg-past-3sg/obj-give book ‘I gave him/her a book’ d. Unpromoted DAT, PAT pronoun *n-a-w-iinka (kudi-)mwaana 1sg-past-it/obj-give dat-child (*‘I gave it (to) the child’) The same obligatory promotion is accorded to optional benefactive arguments, where the benefactive (‘applied’) verb suffix -ila/-ela must be used: (99) a. Transitive, PAT DO w-a-tuña itala 3sg-past-build house ‘s/he built a house’ b. Transitive, PAT-DO pronoun w-a-di-tuña 3sg-past-it/obj-build ‘s/he built it’ c. Obligatory promotion of BEN w-a-tuñ-ila Mari itala 3sg-past-build-ben Mary house ‘s/he built Mary a house’ d. Unpromoted BEN *w-a-tuñ-ila itala kudi-Mari 3sg-past-build-ben house dat-Mary (*‘s/he built a house for Mary’) e. Promoted BEN, BEN pronoun w-a-mu-tuña-ila itala 3sg-past-3sg/obj-build-ben house ‘s/he built her/him a house’ f.

Unpromoted BEN, PAT pronoun *w-a-di-tuña-ila kudi-Mari 3sg-past-it/obj-build-ben dat-Mary (*‘s/he built it for Mary’)

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

4.5.2.4
Promotion of possessor-of-object In some languages with an obligatory promotion of dative-benefactives to DO, the possessor-of-object can or even must be likewise promoted to DO. This pattern has been reported for Tzotzil (Mayan; Aissen 1979). Such a language lumps together the dativebenefactive and genitive (possessor) at the same point on hierarchy (55b), presumably following the reasoning that the human possessor of the object is more important than the possessed object, and is mentally affected — like a dative-benefactive. In Lunda-Ndembu, the promotion of the possessor-of-object to DO is optional, thus establishing its rank on hierarchy (55b) below the dative-benefactive: (100) a. Unpromoted POSS w-o-ocha itala d-a mwaana 3sg-past-burn house poss child ‘he burned the house of the child’ b. Promoted POSS w-a-och-ela mwaana itala d-iindi 3sg-pa-kill-ben child house poss-3sg ‘s/he burned the child’s house’ (lit.: ‘S/he burned the child his/her house’) c. Wrong word-order *w-a-och-ela itala d-iindi mwaana 3sg-pa-burn-ben house poss-3sg child (*‘s/he burned his/her house on the child’) d. Promoted POSS, pronoun w-a-mu-och-ela itala d-iindi 3sg-pa-3sg/obj-kill-ben house poss-3sg ‘s/he burned his/her house’ (lit.: ‘s/he burned him/her his/her house’) e. Wrong (PAT) pronoun *w-a-d-och-ela mwaana 3sg-past-it/obj-burn-ben child (*‘s/he burned it on the child’) The only other semantic role that can be, optionally, promoted to DO in Lunda is the locative, and only when it is human — i.e. dative. With an inanimate locative, no such promotion is possible, thus upholding the lower position of the locative on hierarchy (55b): (101) a. Unpromoted inanimate LOC n-a-twaala wuña ku-mukala 1sg-past-take flour loc-village ‘I took the flower to the village’

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224 Syntax

b. *Promoted inanimate LOC *n-a-twaala ku-mukala wuña 1sg-past-take loc-village flour (*‘I took (to) the village flour’) c. Unpromoted inanimate LOC, PAT pronoun n-a-wu-twaala ku-mukala 1sg-past-it/obj-take loc-village ‘I took it to the village’ d. *Promoted inanimate LOC, LOC pronoun *n-a-ku-twaala wuña 1sg-past-loc/obj-take flour (*‘I took it the flour’) With a human goal, promotion is optional and mimics the dative-benefactive pattern, with the same obligatory benefactive verb suffix: (102) a. Unpromoted human LOC n-a-twaala wuña kudi-taata 1sg-past-take flour loc-father ‘I took the flower to my father’ b. Promoted human LOC n-a-twaal-ila taata wuña 1sg-past-take-ben father flour ‘I took father some flower’ c. Unpromoted human LOC, PAT pronoun n-a-wu-twaala kudi-taata 1sg-past-it/obj-take dat-father ‘I took it to my father’ d. Promoted human LOC, DAT/DO pronoun n-a-mu-twaal-ila wuña 1sg-past-3sg/obj-take-ben flour ‘I took him/her some flour’ 4.5.2.5
Marked vs. unmarked direct objects A similar but more intriguing pattern of ‘promotion’ to DO is found in Indonesian (Austronesian). Bi-transitive verbs with obligatory dative or optional benefactive objects allow two variant constructions — i.e. dative-shifting — depending on whether the patient is or isn’t the direct object. The verb suffix -kan is used with one of the variants. However, with verbs that take a semantically obligatory dative (‘give’, ‘show’, ‘tell’), -kan is used when the patient is the direct object, as in (103b) below. With verbs that take an optional benefactive, -kan is used when the benefactive is the direct object, as in (103c) (Purwo 1997):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(103) a. Dative DO John mem-beri Mary buku itu J. men-give M. book that ‘John gave Mary the book’ b. Patient DO (marked) John mem-beri-kan buku itu kepada Mary J. men-give-kan book that to M. ‘John gave the book to Mary’ c. Benefactive DO (marked) John mem-beli-kan Mary buku itu J. men-buy-kan M. book that ‘John bought Mary the book’ d. Patient DO John mem-beli buku itu untuk Mary J. men-buy book that for M. ‘John bought the book for Mary’ Purwo (1997) interprets this pattern to mean that the suffix -kan signals the marked case, the counter-norm, while its alternant signals the unmarked case, the norm. He further notes that with bi-transitive verbs with a locative-instrumental alternation (Ch. 3, §3.3.6.4), the variant taking the locative as DO (104b) is the unmarked one, without -kan. While the variant with the instrumental as DO (104a) is the unmarked one, with -kan: (104) a. Instrument DO (marked) John menikam-kan belati ke harimau J. men-stab-kan dagger loc tiger ‘John stuck the dagger into the tiger’ b. Locative DO John menikam harimau dengan belati J. men-stab tiger instr dagger ‘John stabbed the tiger with a dagger’ Purwo’s interpretation supports the predictions of the topicality hierarchy (54), (55b), in placing the locative above the instrumental in accessibility to DO. 4.5.3

Promotion to DO and verb-coding of semantic roles Only in relatively few languages is there an unconstrained ‘promotion’ of all non-patient semantic roles to DO. This extensive promotional pattern was first described in two languages KinyaRwanda (Bantu; Kimenyi 1976) and Nez Perce (Sahaptian; Rude 1985). But Philippine languages (e.g. Karao; Brainard 1997) and Indonesian languages (e.g. Salayerese; Mithun 1991), when interpreted as ergative languages, exhibit a very similar pattern.

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226 Syntax

The promotion of dative-benefactives to DO in both KinyaRwanda and Nez Perce is obligatory, as in Lunda-Ndembu, above. The promotion of all other non-patients is optional. Thus, from KinyaRwanda (Kimenyi 1976): (105) Dative-benefactive a. *DO = patient *Yohani y-ooher-eje ibaruwa ku-Maria John he-send-asp letter dat-Mary b. DO = dative-benefactive Yohani y-ooher-er-eje Maria ibaruwa John he-send-ben-asp Mary letter ‘John sent Mary a letter’ (106) Locative a. DO = patient umugore y-ooher-eje umubooyi ku-isoko woman she-send-asp cook loc-market ‘The woman sent the cook to the market’ b. DO = locative umugore y-ooher-eke-ho isoko umubooyi woman she-send-asp-loc market cook ‘The woman sent to the market the cook’ (107) Instrument a. DO = patient umugabo ya-tem-eje igiti n-umupaanga man he-cut-asp tree instr-saw ‘The man cut the tree with a saw’ b. DO = instrument umugabo ya-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man he-cut-asp-instr saw tree ‘The man used the saw to cut the tree’ (108) Manner a. DO = patient Maria ya-tets-e inkoko n-agahiinda Mary she-cook-asp chicken mann-sorrow ‘Mary cooked the chicken regretfully’ b. DO = manner Maria ya-tek-an-ye agahiinda inkoko Mary she-cook-mann-asp sorrow chicken ‘Mary regretfully cooked the chicken’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(109) Associative a. DO = patient umuhuungu ya-riimb-jye ururiimbi na-umugore boy he-sing-asp song assoc-woman ‘The boy sang the song with the woman’ b. DO = associative umuhuungu ya-riimb-an-ye umugore ururiimbi boy he-sing-assoc-asp woman song ‘The boy sang with the woman a song’ What is typologically distinctive in all the languages with such an extensive promotion-toDO system, is that when a non-patient is ‘promoted’ to DO, the verb is marked with a special affix that signals the DO’s semantic role. This is so because the nominal casemarking on the DO in such languages — zero-marked in KinyaRwanda, a post-position in Nez Perce, the absolutive preposition in Karao and Selayarese — cannot be counted on to mark semantic role, given the extensive range of non-patients that can occupy the DO slot. As we shall see further on (Chapters 13, 14, 15), this promotion-cum-verb-marking combination has extensive ramifications throughout the rest of the grammar.

4.6

Serial verbs, case-marking and grammatical relations We have noted earlier (Ch. 3, §3.5.1.1) that serial verbs have a diachronic potential for developing into object case-markers. While it is true that they can and in many cases do grammaticalize as prepositions or postpositions (Givón 1975a, 1991c), quite often they retain many formal properties of verbs long after changing their function. As an illustration of the wide range of object case-marking functions that can be assumed by serial verbs, consider Akan (Niger-Congo). The verb ‘give’, when used by itself, takes the dative argument as its obligatory direct object, much like the obligatory ‘promotion’ in Lunda and KinyaRwanda, above. To get the patient as the more topical object, the serial verb ‘take’ must be added to the clause (Osam 1997): (110) a. Dat = DO (no SV) Kofi ma-a papa no sika Kofi give-past man the money ‘Kofi gave the man money’ b. Pat = DO (SV) Kofi de sika no ma-a papa no Kofi take money the give-past man the ‘Kofi gave the money to the man’ (lit.: ‘Kofi took the money and gave (it) to the man’) Various locative roles are marked by serial verbs, with ‘take’ marking the patient (111a):

227

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Syntax

(111) a. Patient Esi de ekutu no to-o famu8 Esi take orange def put-past floor ‘Esi put the orange on (the) floor’ b. Ablative (‘from’) Kofi yi-i tam no fi-i pon no do Kofi take-past cloth def leave-past table def on ‘Kofi took the cloth off the table’ c. Allative (‘to’) Ebo soa-a adaka no ko¸-o¸ skuul Ebo carry-past box the go-past school ‘Ebo carried the box to school’ d. Ingressive (‘into’) Esi hue-e nsu gu-u ankora no mu Esi pour-past water put.in-past barrel def in ‘Esi poured water into the barrel’ The serial verb ‘give’ marks the optional benefactive: (112) Benefactive a. Esi tur-r abofra no ma-a maame no Esi carry-past child def give-past woman def ‘Esi carried the child for the woman’ b. Esi twitwa-a Kofi ne tsir ma-a no Esi cut-past Kofi 3sg/poss hair give-past 3sg ‘Esi cut Kofi’s hair for him’ Both the optional instrumental and manner are marked with the same serial verb ‘take’ that can also mark the patient: (113) a. Instrumental Kofi de sekan no twa-a ahoma no Kofi take knife def cut-past rope def ‘Kofi cut the rope with the knife’ b. Manner Akosua de abotare twitwa-a nte¸tea no Akosua take patience cut-past ant def ‘Akosua dissected the ant patiently’ Finally, the serial verb ‘join’ marks the associative: (114) Associative a. Kofi nye aberwa no dzi-i edziban no Kofi join/past old.woman def eat-past food def ‘Kofi ate the food with the old woman’

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

With the exception of de ‘take’, the most grammaticalized, all serial verbs in Akan take the finite tense-aspect marking as main verbs in the clause. Indeed, it is hard to find formal criteria for deciding which verb in a serial clause is the ‘main’ verb and which is the grammaticalized ‘serial’ verb. It is equally hard to decide which object in the multi-verb clause is the DO, and which the IO. Indeed, as Osam (1997) points out, all post-verbal objects in the multi-verb clause answer equally well to the criteria of direct objecthood. This is true of both their overt-coding and behavior-and-control properties: directly after the verb; •
following the post-verbal pronominal slot; •
taking
behaving object in relativization; •
behaving asas direct direct object in clefting. • Similar conclusions were drawn about serial verbs and their objects in Saramacan, a Caribbean Creole (Byrne 1987, 1992). What these studies point out is that regardless of the grammaticalized function that serial verbs may take in the clause, their formal properties often lag behind, reflecting their diachronic source construction, the clause-chain (Chapter 18). For example, two of the tense-aspects in clause chains in Akan, the perfective past and the present perfect, spread to all verbs in the chain (Osam 1997): (115) Spreading tense-aspects a. Past Araba to¸ o¸ nam, kyew-ee, ton-ee ¸ nya-a sika A. buy-past fish fry-past sell-past get-past money ‘Araba bought fish, fried it, sold it and got money’ b. Perfect Araba á-to¸ nam, á-kyew, á-ton ¸ é-nya sika A. perf-buy fish perf-fry perf-sell perf-get money ‘Araba has bought fish, fried it, sold it and got money’ The other two tense-aspects, the progressive and future, mark only the first verb in the chain, after which a neutral ‘narrative’ prefix marks the verbs in the following clauses: (116) Non-spreading tense-aspects a. Progressive Araba ro-to¸ nam, a-kyew, a-ton ¸ e-nya sika A. prog-buy fish nar-fry nar-sell nar-get money ‘Araba is buying fish, frying it, selling it and getting money’ b. Future Araba bo-t ¸ o¸ nam, a-kyew, a-ton ¸ e-nya sika A. fut-buy fish nar-fry nar-sell nar-get money ‘Araba will buy fish, fry it, sell it and get money’ The very same distributional restrictions on tense-aspects show up inside serial-verb clauses.

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In terms of formal syntactic properties, thus, one is justified in describing the serial-verb clause in a language like Akan as having multiple VPs, a conclusion broadly similar to Byrne’s (1987, 1992), Larson’s (1991) and Givón’s (1995). That is:6 (117)

S Subj

VP V

VP Obj

V

Obj

KoW de sekan-no twa-a ahoma-no KoW take knife-def cut-past rope-def ‘KoW cut the rope with the knife’ (Diachronic source: ‘KoW took the knife and [he] cut the rope’)

(118)

S Subj

VP V

VP Obj

V

Obj-Post

Esi yi-i tamo-no W-i pon-no-don Esi take-past cloth-the leave-past table-the-on ‘Esi took the cloth oV the table’ (Diachronic source: ‘Esi took the cloth and [it] left the table’)

4.7

Verb-coding of case-roles We already noted above (§4.5.3) that in KinyaRwanda, whenever a non-patient object is ‘promoted’ to DO, its semantic function is coded on the verb. This extensive verb-coding system is but an expansion of the more limited pattern seen earlier in Lunda-Ndembu (§4.5.2), where only one non-patient argument — the dative-benefactive — can be promoted to DO with similar verb-coding. We also noted earlier (Ch. 3, §3.3.5.1) that in Machiguenga (So Arawak), a language with no nominal case-marking, the semantic roles of all non-patient objects are verb-coded. In at least one language family, Austronesian, we find languages in which the coding of semantic roles on the verb is also extended to subjects. This pattern is most conspicuous in Philippine languages, where in the ergative-active clause it applies only to direct objects, which are themselves marked with an absolutive prefix, as in (120a,b), (121a,b), (122a,b), below. However, in the antipassive and other intransitive clauses, the absolutive-marked subject is verb-coded, as in (119a,b), below. This pattern is illustrated with Bikol (M. Factora, i.p.c.):

Grammatical relations and case-marking systems

(119) a. Intransitive nag-batok ’ang-ayan agt/r-bark abs-dog ‘the dog barked’ b. Antipassive-intransitive nag-ta’o ’ang-lalake ning-libro sa-babaye agt/r-give abs-man pat-book dat-woman ‘The man gave a book to the woman’ (120) a. Ergative-transitive, Pat = DO t-in-a’o kang-lalake ’ang-libro sa-babaye pat/r-give erg-man abs-book dat-woman ‘The book was given to the woman by the man’ b. Ergative-transitive, Dat = DO na-ta’o-an kang-lalake ning-libro ’ang-babaye dat/r-give-dat erg-man pat-book abs-woman ‘The woman was given a book by the man’ (121) a. Ergative-transitive, Pat = DO p-in-utul kang-lalake ’ang-tubu gamit-lanseta pat/r-cut erg-man abs-cane instr-knife ‘The man cut sugar-cane with a knife’ b. Ergative-transitive, Instr = DO pinag-putul kang-lalake ning-tubu ’ang-lanseta instr/r-cut agt-man pat-cane top-knife ‘The knife was used by the man to cut sugar-cane’ (122) a. Ergative-transitive, Pat = DO b-in-akal kang-lalake ’ang-kanding para-sa-babaye pat/r-buy erg-man abs-goat ben-dat-woman ‘The man bought a goat for the woman’ b. Ergative-transitive, Ben = DO pinag-bakal-an kang-lalake ning-kanding ’ang-babaye ben/r-buy-dat erg-man pat-goat abs-woman ‘The woman was bought a goat by the man’ Case-marking the verb in a sense violates universal predictions made in Chapter 1, concerning the relevance of case-marking to nouns rather than verbs. Still, verb-coded case-marking demonstrates once again the competitive interaction between conflicting adaptive demands. For reasons that have to do with the diachronic history of case-markers, most languages allow only one case-marker per argument. Since, as noted earlier, casemarking can respond to three adaptive pressures — semantic role, pragmatic topicality, or transitivity — the grammaticalization of either the subject (nominative) and DO (accusative) tilts nominal case-marking toward the pragmatics of topicality. The marking of semantic roles — beyond the default roles of agent (subject) and patient (DO) — on the verb is thus an attempt to accommodate both competing motivations.

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Syntax

Notes 1. As Pu (1997) points out, this is not quite the whole story. In her text-frequency study of zero anaphora in Mandarin Chinese, the vast majority of zero anaphors (93.5%) were still shown to be subjects. And while 40.4% of subjects were coded as zero anaphors, only 6.2% of objects were. At the text-frequency level, zero anaphora in Mandarin Chinese seems almost as RG-governed as in English. 2. There is at least one other family like that — So. Arawak. What it also has in common with Athabaskan is an extremely elaborate verbal morphology. Indeed, the verbal words and clausal order of the two families are virtual mirror-images of each other — SOV and a string of prefixes in Athabaskan, VSO and a string of suffixes in So. Arawak. 3. In his study of conflicts of GR properties in Japanese, Shibatani (1977) showed how when two NPs compete for subjecthood, the first marked by the topic suffix -wa, the second by the subject suffix -ga, behavior-and-control subject properties always point out to the ga-marked NP as the grammatical subject. 4. For the classical attention vs. automaticity literature, see Posner and Snyder (1974) and Schneider and Shiffrin (1977). For the relation between attention and the grammar of referential coherence, see Givón (1995: Ch. 8). 5. The term ‘promotion’ is a terminological leftover from the transformational parlance, where the variant with a non-patient DO was considered to be the marked case, derived from the unmarked variant with the patient DO. The realization that in many languages the dative-benefactive is obligatorily the DO made this derivational concept somehow silly, but the term has stuck. 6. Byrne (1987, 1992) attempts to give a much more elaborate, ‘deeper’ PS-tree characterization of (117) and (118), endeavoring to account for the difference between the continuing subject (117) and switch subject (118) in the diachronic source construction (see Givón 1995: Ch. 6). There is no syntactic evidence to support such a description. And its semantic support only draws on the original clause-chained construction, which in the serial clause is already reanalyzed via grammaticalization and semantic change. It is only some of the more formal properties of the chained clauses that have survived in the conflated serial clause.



Chapter 5

Word order

5.1

Preliminaries In dealing with grammatical relations in the preceding chapter, we noted that both morphology and word-order are used, often in combination, to code the grammatical roles of the subject and object. Still, the bulk of our typological discussion thus far focused either on the morphology of case-marking, or on the behavior-and-control properties of subjects and objects. In this chapter we return, in considerably more detail, to the grammatical (‘syntactic’) use of word-order. The discussion will center initially on word-order in simple — main, declarative, affirmative, active — clauses. But we will inevitably stray far beyond this initial focus. In doing so, we will need to consider clause-types covered more fully in several chapters of Volume II: either complex clauses (chs 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18) or noun phrase (Ch. 11). In referring to the grammatical use of word-order, one simply means the temporalsequential order of three core constituents of the clause vis-a-vis each other:

•
verb; •
subject; •
object. The grammatical relations subject and object as defined in the preceding chapter are thus taken for granted in our discussion of word-order typology. A typology, as noted in Chapter 1 (§1.6), is only worth its name if it predicts reliable associations between a main typological feature (‘independent variable’) and one or more secondary features (‘dependent variables’). The more such predictions one can make from the single main feature, the more profound is the typology. In the study of word-order typology, the traditional division of variables has been (Greenberg 1966a): (1) Variables of word-order typology Independent variable a. word-order in simple (‘unmarked’) clauses

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Syntax

Dependent variables b. word-order in complex or subordinate (‘marked’) clauses c. word-order in the noun phrase d. morphotactics — order of morphemes vis-a-vis lexical word-stems. While this division has always been taken for granted, as a gut-level intuition, it turns out to rest on solid empirical foundations. One can certainly approach the determination of which typological feature is the independent (main) variable and which are the dependent ones from a purely synchronic perspective, by observing the patterns of association and dissociation — strong or weak, one-way conditional, bi-conditional — between the variables. But understanding — explaining — why these patterns of association or dissociation are the way they are is another matter. Theoretical understanding requires moving from description to explanation, and in this case most explanations turn out to be diachronic. They involve the processes that give rise to morpho-syntactic constructions, in this case complex or subordinate clauses, noun phrases, and bound morphology. Our understanding of typology thus turns out to hinge on our understanding of grammaticalization (see again Ch. 1, §1.6). There is another reason why explaining synchronic word-order typology is so tightly intertwined with the diachrony of grammaticalization. Many of the exceptions to even the strongest typological generalizations one may observe turn out to be diachronically motivated. Diachrony — grammaticalization — is thus the source of both the regularities (strong correlations) and irregularities (exceptions) in word-order typology (Greenberg 1978, 1979; Givón 1971a, 1979a: Chs 5, 6).

5.2

Scalarity, consistency and purity of types When we say that a certain language has a particular word-order, and when we classify the various types of rigid word-order found among human languages, we need to bear in mind that no language has an absolutely uniform rigid word-order in all its constructions. Wellknown variant order constructions exist even in the most rigidly-ordered language. Conversely, when we say a language has flexible word-order, such flexibility is also a matter of degree. To some extent, a graded scale can be found between the most extreme rigidity and the most extreme flexibility in clausal word-order. This scalarity does not prevent us from discovering many of solid generalizations about word-order, provided we remember two leitmotifs we have already alluded to: are once again dealing with a complex multi-variable domain, where many of •
We the generalizations will be scalar or implicational-hierarchic rather than absolute. residue of diachronically-motivated exceptions will continue to haunt •
Aevenrecalcitrant the most powerful synchronic generalizations we can find. Greenberg’s (1966a) initial observations (see (1) above), are indeed a case in point:

Word order

(2) a. Word-order in complex/subordinate clauses tends to conform to that of simple/main clauses. b. The order of modifiers vis-a-vis the head noun in the NP tends to conform to that of the object vis-a-vis the verb in the VP. c. Languages with VP word-order of object–verb (OV) tend to have suffixal morphology, while those with the VP order verb–object (VO) tend to have prefixal morphology. Several people have attempted to explain these generalizations by reference to abstract synchronic principles such as harmony (Lehmann 1973, 1978a), early immediate constituency (Hawkins 1983, 1988a, 1990) or consistency (Vennemann 1973, 1974, 1983). In one way or another, these approaches presuppose — whether explicitly or implicitly — a rather abstract, domain-free operator-operand ‘deep’ structure, part and parcel of some Chomskyan competence, a structure that somehow drives the behavioral analogy between the independent variable (1a) and the three dependent variables (1b–d). In the process, they tend to ignore the profoundly diachronic causality — the process of grammaticalization — that turns out to drive all three correlations as well as the exceptions to them.

5.3

Rigid word-order types

5.3.1

Rigid word-order in simple (main) clauses In this section we survey our independent variable in word-order typology, word-order in simple clauses, describing the main types of rigid ordering of the verb, subject, and object. 5.3.1.1
Subject–verb–object (SVO) — English Modern English is one of the most consistent rigid SVO languages, at least in terms of its main-clause order. Still, it displays variant word-orders in several more marked clausetypes, (focus clauses, Ch. 17; topicalizing clauses, Ch. 16; questions, Ch. 17). English may thus serve as an example of the upper limits of rigid word-order. (3) Main-clause SVO word-order in English a. The boy slept (S-V) b. The man hit the ball (S-V-DO) c. The woman went to the house (S-V-IO) d. The girl gave the book to her brother (S-V-DO-IO) e. They thought that he was crazy (S-V-Comp) f. The boy wanted to leave (S-V-Comp) g. The woman told the man to leave (S-V-DO-Comp) h. He was mowing the lawn (S-Aux-V-O) i. The girl was tall (S-Cop-Pred) j. He was a teacher (S-Cop-Pred)

235

236

Syntax

(4) Marked-clause variant word-orders in English a. Existential-presentative (IO-V-S), (V-S-IO) Near the bridge (there) stood a willow tree There’s a fly in the ointment b. L-dislocation (topicalization) (O, S-V-PRO) As for John, the guys never saw him c. R-dislocation (topicalization) (PRO-V-O, S) She left the house early, Mary d. Y-movement (contrastive topicalization) (O-S-V) That one I really hate e. Cleft-focus (O-S-V) It’s Mary that they like f.

Yes/no-question (Cop-S-Pred), (Aux-S-V-O) Was Mary tall? Did John quit his job? Can Mary do this?

g. Wh-question (O-Cop-S), (O-Aux-S-V) Where is Mary? Who did they see? What can she do? 5.3.1.2
Subject–object–verb (SOV) — Nepali Nepali is the main Indic language of Nepal. As noted earlier (Ch. 4), it is a morphologically ergative language. The word-order in simple clauses may be seen in (R. Shresta, i.p.c.): (5) Main-clause SOV word-order in Nepali a. manis sut-yo man/abs sleep-perf/3sg.masc ‘the man slept’ b. manis bh˜uy-ma sut-yo man/abs floor-loc sleep-perf/3sg.masc ‘the man slept on the floor’ c. Ava-le Raj(-lay) dekh-yin Ava-erg Raj(-dat) see-3sg.fem ‘Ava saw Raj’ d. Ava-le Raj-lay kitab di-yin Ava-erg Raj-dat book give-perf/3sg.fem ‘Ava gave Raj the/a book’ e. Kukur ramro cho¸ dog/abs good be/imperf ‘the dog is good’

(S-V)

(S-IO-V)

(S-O-V)

(S-Dat/DO-Acc/IO-V)

(S-Pred-Cop)

Word order

237

f.

aymay bidhyarti hun (S-Pred-Cop) woman student be/imperf/3sg.fem ‘the woman is a student’ g. Omi-le Maya-le bhat poka-yin bhon-than-yin ¸ Omi-erg Maya-erg dinner cook-perf/3sg.fem say-think-perf/3sg.fem ‘Omi thought that Maya had cooked dinner’ (S-Comp-V) h. Omi-le bhat pokau-no¸ chod-yin (S-Comp-V) Omi-erg dinner cook-nom quit-perf/3sg.fem ‘Omi quit cooking dinner’ i. Ram-le Ava-lay ru-no¸ log-a-yo (S-O-Comp-V) Ram-erg Ava-dat cry-nom put-caus-perf/3sg.masc ‘Ram made Ava cry’

Word-order variants in several types of more marked clauses can be seen in: (6) Marked-clauses variant word-orders in Nepali a. Variant order for verbal complements (S-V-Comp) Omi-le icha-yin kii Raj-le bhat Omi-erg wish-perf/3sg.fem comp Raj-erg dinner poka-os cook-subj/3sg.masc ‘Omi wished that Raj would cook dinner’ b. (Contrastive) topicalization/L-dislocation (O-S-V) boka Raj-le mar-yo goat Raj-erg kill-perf/3sg.masc ‘The goat(,) Raj killed (it)’ c. Wh-question (Dat/O-S-Acc/IO-V) kos-lay Omi-le kitab di-yin? wh-dat Omi-erg book/abs give-perf/3sg.fem ‘Who did Omi give the book to?’ d. Inverse/passive (Dat/O-Acc/IO-Agt/S-V) Omi-lay kitab Raj-dwara di-i-yo Omi-dat book/abs Raj-agt give-inv/pass-perf/3sg ‘Omi was given a book by Raj’ e. Pseudo-cleft/focus (O-V-S-Cop) kukur-lay hirka-ne Raj-le thi-yo dog-dat hit-nom Raj-erg be-perf/3sg.masc ‘The one who hit the dog was Raj ’ ‘It was Raj who hit the dog’ 5.3.1.3
Verb–subject–object (VSO) — Jacaltec Jacaltec is a Mayan language spoken in Guatemala, exhibiting a fairly rigid VSO wordorder in its simple clauses (Craig 1977):

238

Syntax

(7) Main-clause VSO word-order in Jacaltec a. x’apni naj (V-S) arrived he ‘he arrived’ b. jahtoj naj yibaH no’-cheh (V-S-IO) climbed he on the-horse ‘he climbed on the horse’ c. xil naj ix (V-S-O) saw he her ‘he saw her’ d. xa’ ix te’-hum wet an (V-S-O-IO) gave she the-book to/me 1pl ‘she gave the book to me’ e. sonlon naj (Pred-S) marimba-player he ‘he is a marimba player’ f. c’ul ye ix (Pred-Cop-S) good be she ‘she is fine’ g. ay no’-hin-txitam (Cop-S) be cl-my-pig ‘I have a pig’ (lit.: ‘be my pig’) h. xal hin-mam an chubil xcam no’-cheh (V-S-Comp) said my-father 1pl comp died the-horse ‘My father said that the horse died’ j. s-kan hin-c’ul ∆-w-il-a’ naj (V-S-Comp) erg.3-want my-stomach abs.3-erg.1-see-irr him ‘I’d like to see him’ (lit.: ‘my stomach wants that I will see him’) k. x-0-y-impze ix xo’ ∆-s-t’ah-a’ xil-kape asp-abs3-erg-3-force she her abs3-erg3-wash-fut the-clothes ‘She forced her to wash the clothes’ (V-S-O-Comp) (lit.: ‘She forced her that she would wash the clothes’) (8) Marked-clauses variant word-orders in Jacaltec a. Existential-presentative (Cop-S-V-O) ay sonlon mac xa-x’htoj yiban no’-cheh be marimba-player rel asp-arrive on the-horse ‘there’s a marimba player who’s already climbed on the horse’ b. Subject cleft-focus (Foc-S-V-O) ha’-naj xmak-ni ix foc-he hit-suV her ‘it was he who hit her’

Word order

239

c. Object cleft-focus (Foc-O-V-S) ha’-ix smak naj foc-her hit he ‘it was her that he hit’ d. Subject L-dislocation (S, V-S-O) naj-Pel smak naj ix cl-Peter hit he her ‘As for Peter, he hit her’ e. Object L-dislocation (O, V-S-O) ix-Malin, smak naj ix cl-Mary hit he her ‘As for Mary, he hit her’ f. Subject wh-question (S-V-O) mac xwat’e-n te’-mexa tu’ WHO made-suV cl-table that ‘Who made that table?’ g. Object wh-question (O-V-S) tzet xwat’e-n naj-Pel WHAT made-suff cl-Peter ‘What did Peter make?’ 5.3.1.4
Verb–object–subject (VOS) — Malagasy Malagasy, an Austronesian language spoken in Madagascar, is a rigid VOS-ordered language. Main-clause order can be seen in (Keenan 1976b): (9) Main-clause VOS word-order in Malagasy a. lasa ny-mpianatra left the-students ‘the students left’ b. mitomanyi an-trano-ko ny-zaza crying at-house-my the-child ‘the child is crying at my house’ c. manasa lamnba Rasoa washed clothes Raosa ‘Rasoa is washing clothes’ d. nanome vola an-Rabe aho gave money obj-Rabe I ‘I gave money to Rabe’ e. mihevitra Rabe fa handeha-ho any Antsirabe think Rabe comp go-fut there Antsirabe ‘Rabe thinks that he’ll go to Antsirabe’ f. manaiky manasa ny-zaza Rasoa agree wash the-baby Rasoa ‘Rasoa agreed to wash the baby’

(V-S)

(V-IO-S)

(V-O-S)

(V-Acc/O-Dat/O-S)

(V-S-Comp)

(V-Comp-S)

240 Syntax

g. mampa manasa lamba an-Rasoa aho make wash clothes obj-Rasoa I ‘I made Rasoa wash clothes’ h. lava ny-tongon-d-Rabe long the-foot-poss-Rabe ‘Rabe’s feet are long’

(V-Comp-O-S)

(Pred-S)

A number of word-order variants, predominantly involving fronted subjects or objects, are found in more-marked clauses in Malagasy, as in (Keenan 1976b): (10) Marked-clauses variant word-orders in Malagasy a. Existential presentative (Cop-S-V) misy zaza mitomany exist child cry ‘there’s a child (who’s) crying’ ‘a child is crying’ b. L-dislocation, subject (S, V-O) Rasoa dia manasa lamba Rasoa top wash clothes ‘As for Rasoa, she’s washing clothes’ c. L-dislocation, object (O, V-O-S) lamba io dia mbola manasa azy Rasoa clothes that top still wash it Rasoa ‘As for the clothes, Rasoa is still washing them’ d. Cleft-focus, subject (S-V-O) Rasoa no manasa ny-lamba Rasoa foc wash the-clothes ‘It’s Rasoa who’s washing the clothes’ e. Cleft-focus, object (O-V-S) ny-lamba io no manasa Rasoa the-clothes that foc wash Rasoa ‘It’s the clothes that Rasoa is washing’ f. Wh-question (cleft pattern), object (O-V-S) inina no ataon’-ny ankizy? WHAT foc do/pass-the children ‘What are the children doing?’ g. Wh-question (cleft-pattern), IO (IO-V-O-S) amin-’inona no manasa lamba Raosa with-WHAT foc wash clothes Rasoa ‘What did Rasoa wash clothes with?’ One may as well note that the few known languages with VOS order tend to crop up in families where the more common word order is VSO. One may just view VOS as a diachronic extension of the more common V-first order, VSO. Such alternate word-orders may be found in Austronesian, Mayan, Nilotic, Salish and perhaps other families.

Word order

241

5.3.1.5
Object–verb–subject (OVS) — Hixkaryana In at least one language family, Carib, the presence of a relatively rigid O-V-S order has been reported (Derbyshire 1977; Derbyshire and Pullum 1981). Examples from main clauses are: (11) a. kana yanu =mno bu =ryekomo fish he/caught/it boy ‘The boy caught a fish’ b. “u =tohra exko Waraka-yakoro” kelnano rohetxe neg/go be Waraka-with she/said/it my/wife ‘“Don’t go with Waraka” said my wife’

(O-V-S)

(Comp-V-S)

A further study of word-order variation and its pragmatic motivation in Hixkaryana (Derbyshire 1985) seem to suggest, that O-V-S is not a rigid word-order in the language. Rather, the language is indeed a rigid OV language, but the subject NP may be either clause-initial (S-OV) or clause-final (OV-S). We will discuss this type in §5.6.2.3, below. Finally, Derbyshire (1981) notes that the OVS word-order in Hixkaryana is a recent diachronic development from the SOV order that is the earlier word-order of the Carib family. This suggestion is further corroborated in Gildea (1998). 5.3.1.6
Semantically-controlled word-order? — Bikol So far, we have described rigid-order languages where the controlling principle was that of grammatical roles — grammaticalized subject and object. But at least in one language subfamily, Philippine (Austronesian), it appears that the controlling principle may be that of semantic roles — agent, patient, dative. Philippine languages are fairly rigid V-first languages, much like Jacaltec and Malagasy. In addition, they allow considerable word-order freedom for the post-verbal subject and object, an option presumably controlled by pragmatic considerations of topicality (see T. Payne 1994). Above and beyond that, however, it seems that following the verb, the most common preference is for the order Agt-Pat-Dat, regardless of subjecthood. This preference can be discerned regardless of whether the language is interpreted as nominative or ergative. Thus consider the following data from Bikol (M. Factora, i.p.c.): (12) a. Ergative-active clause t-in-a’o kang-lalake ‘ang-libro sa-babaye pat-gave erg-man abs-book dat-woman ‘The man gave the book to the woman’ b. Antipassive clause nag-ta’o ‘ang-lalake ning-libro sa-babaye agt-gave abs-man acc-book dat-woman ‘the man gave a book to the woman’ c. Dative-topic clause na-ta’o-han kang-lalake ning-libro ‘ang-babaye dat-gave erg-man acc-book abs-woman ‘the man gave the woman a book’

242 Syntax

However, since the agent tends to be the primary topic in transitive clauses even in ergative languages (Cooreman, Fox and Givón 1984; Cooreman 1988), and thus assume many grammatical subject properties, at the level of actual discourse — text frequency — the difference between calling the preferred order V-S-O-IO and V-Agt-Pat-Dat may not be all that significant. 5.3.2

Rigid word-order in the noun phrase 5.3.2.1
Preliminaries In his original work on word-order typology, Greenberg (1966a) noted a strong correlation between clausal word-order (O-V vs. V-O) and NP word order (Mod-N vs. N-Mod, respectively). That is: (13) clausal order OV VO

… …

NP order Mod-N (pre-nominal modifiers) N-Mod (post-nominal modifiers)

As noted earlier (§5.2), these correlations have nothing to do with harmony, consistency or purity of abstract types, but rather are diachronically mediated. What is more, many people have noted (e.g. Dryer 1988) that these correlations are often weak, partial or unidirectional, with some languages or language types (OV) exhibiting them more consistently, while others (VO) much less so. In this section we will first exemplify the two major patterns in languages that display them rather consistently. In subsequent sections, we will survey ‘inconsistent’ or ‘mixed’ patterns. 5.3.2.2
Pre-nominal modifiers: Japanese Japanese, a rigid SOV language, is probably as consistent a language as one may find with pre-nominal modifiers, i.e. Mod-N order in the NP. It thus conforms well to Greenberg’s (1966a) correlations (13). Thus (K. Akiba, i.p.c.): (14) a. ooki hito-wa big man-top ‘the big man’ b. sono onna-wa that woman-top ‘that woman’ c. san-satsu-no hon-o three-cl-gen book-obj ‘three books’ d. watashi-no hon-o I-gen book-obj ‘my book’

(Adj-N)

(Dem-N)

(Num-N)

(Poss-N)

Word order

243

e. kaisha-no sacho-wa (N-N) company-gen president-top ‘company president’ f. Fukuda Takeo (Surname-First name) Fukuda Takeo ‘Takeo Fukuda’ (former prime-minister) g. onna-o mitta hito-wa (Rel-N) woman-obj saw person-top the person who saw the woman’ 5.3.2.3
Post-nominal modifiers: Modern Hebrew Modern Hebrew, a rigid SVO language, is rather consistent in its use of post-nominal modifiers (N-Mod), though with some interesting exceptions. On the whole, it thus conform to Greenberg’s (1966a) correlations (13). Thus consider: (15) a. ha-ish ha-gadol (N-Adj) the-man the-big ‘the big man’ b. ha-isha ha-zot (N-Dem) the-woman the-this ‘this woman’ c. yeled exad (N-Num) boy one ‘one boy’ d. shtey yeladot (Num-N) two/of girls ‘two girls’ e. yeladot rabot (N-Quant) girls many ‘many girls’ (literary) f. harbe yeladot (Quant-N) many/of girls ‘many girls’ (colloquial) g. ha-bayit shel-Tamar (N-Poss) the-house gen-Tamar ‘Tamar’s house’ h. beyt Tamar (N-Poss) house/of Tamar ‘Tamar’s house’ (old pattern) i. beyt ha-sefer (N-N/Poss) house/of the-book ‘the school’ (lit. ‘house of the book’)

244 Syntax

j.

Natan Yalin-Mor Nathan Yalin-Mor ‘Nathan Yalin-Mor’ k. ha-bayit she-b-o hi gara the-house rel-in-it she lives ‘the house where she lives’ l. ha-dod mi-Yrushalayin the-uncle from-Jerusalem ‘the uncle from Jerusalem’

(First Name-Surname)

(N-Rel)

(N-Prep/Comp)

The two exceptions to the N-Mod order in Hebrew are the numerals above one (14d) and many of the quantifiers (14f). These exceptions are due to the intervention of diachronic re-analysis, in this case of a construction whose original status was that of a possessed head noun followed by a possessor modifier, as in (14h,i). The numerals from 2 up, and many quantifiers, were originally head nouns in such constructions. Over time, the constructions were re-analyzed towards their current Mod-N status. But the frozen old order of the two constituents persists. This is a fairly clear example of how diachronic change can determine either ‘consistent’ or ‘inconsistent’ word-order. English, directly below, furnishes similar examples. 5.3.2.4
Mixed word-order in the noun phrase: English English, Mandarin Chinese and many other VO languages present a perennial problem for people who insist on taking Greenberg’s (1966a) prediction (13) at its synchronic face value. In Mandarin, the consistent NP word-order is Mod-N, thus failing entirely to ‘harmonize’ with the VO clausal order. In English, the ‘OV-harmonic’ order Mod-N applies to smaller modifier — words or clitic morphemes. Larger — phrasal or clausal — modifiers conform to the ‘VO-harmonic’ order N-Mod: (16) Small pre-nominal modifiers a. this house (Dem-N) b. a house (Art-N) d. her car (Poss-N) e. Mary’s car (Poss-N) f. many friends (Quant-N) g. two horses (Num-N) h. a tall mountain (Adj-N) i. bird-house (N-N) (17) Large post-nominal modifiers a. the man I saw yesterday b. the woman who left early c. his passion for climbing mountains d. his gift of two paintings to the museum e. the man from U.N.C.L.E. f. the woman in that picture g. the people of Venice

(N-Rel) (N-Rel) (N-Comp) (N-Comp) (N-PP) (N-PP) (N-Poss)

Word order

245

This inconsistency in English nominal word-order is surprising only for those who believe in abstract synchronic ‘harmony’, a principle devoid of plausible cognitive mechanisms. A more realistic approach to the ‘inconsistency’ of both Mandarin and English would note the following diachronic considerations: languages changed from SOV to SVO. •
Both
In both languages, some noun modifiers acquired their word-order pattern • during the older OV syntax, while others grammaticalized later, during the period

• •

of VO syntax.
While there is some analogical extension of patterns across modifiers, analogy has never been demonstrated as a universal mechanism for increased ‘harmony’.
In principle, each modifier in the NP grammaticalizes on its own, following its own diachronic trajectory that may or may not be determined by clausal (OV vs. VO) syntax (Givón 1971a).

As an illustration of how grammaticalization and diachronic re-analysis can affect NP word-order, consider the relatively recent rise of complex spatial prepositions in English, a process extremely common in languages throughout the world: (18) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i.

in the middle of the forest *in middle of the forest at the top of the mountain on top of the house *on top the house out of the house out the door under the house *under of the house

At the point of origin of this pattern, the locative noun is the head of the construction, modified by pre-nominal prepositions and articles and a post-nominal possessor NP. That is, syntactically it may be analyzed as (for (18a)): (19)

PP P

NP Det

N

Poss/PP P

in

the

middle

of

NP Det

N

the

forest

Structure (19) conformed to the current English preference for post-nominal phrasal modifiers (17g). Various intermediate cases along the continuum (18) display the way

246 Syntax

various original components of the constructions — preposition, article, ‘of’ — gradually drop out. So that by later stages, certainly by (18h), the erstwhile locative noun has become a locative preposition, and the erstwhile post-nominal modifying possessor noun is now the head noun. The new syntactic structure is then (for (18h)): (20)

PP P

under

5.4

NP Det

N

the

house

Mixed word-orders In the preceding section we noted that the notion of ‘mixed’ or ‘inconsistent’ word-order presupposes an abstract synchronic principle of ‘harmony’, thus a questionable interpretation of Greenberg’s (1966a) correlations. In this section we will illustrate more extensively both the synchronic phenomenon and its diachronic underpinnings.

5.4.1

Mixed clausal order 5.4.1.1
Different main-clause vs. subordinate-clause order As noted earlier above, the tacit assumption of Greenberg’s (1966a) observed correlations was that word-order in complex and/or subordinate clauses conforms to that of the simple/ main clause. But many languages do not abide by this presumed universal, displaying one word-order in their main clause, another one in (some or all of) their subordinate clauses. Quite often, this apparent ‘disharmony’ is the result of word-order change, initiated in main clauses but not yet extended to subordinate clauses. As a result, subordinate clauses in such cases display a more conservative word-order. This may be first illustrated with data from Kru (Niger-Congo), in which SVO is the current main-clause order, but SOV lingers on in several types of subordinate clauses (Givón 1975a; Hyman 1975a): (21) a. Main clause (SVO) nyino-na bla nyeyu-na woman-def hit man-def ‘The woman hit the man’ b. Verb complement (SOV) nyino-na jila boe nyeyu-na bla woman-def want sub man-def hit ‘the woman wants to hit the man’

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c. Verb complement (SOV) n-pni nyino-na boe nyeyu-na bla I-squeeze woman-def sub man-def hit ‘I forced the woman to hit the man’ d. Grammaticalized future auxiliary (old main verb) (SOV) nyino-na mu nyeyu-na bla woman-def fut man-def hit ‘The woman will hit the man’ e. Grammaticalized negative marker (old main verb) (SOV) nyino-na si nyeyu-na bla woman-def neg man-def hit ‘the woman didn’t hit the man’ What examples (21d,e) illustrate is that when the main verb grammaticalizes, the conservative OV word-order of complement clauses automatically becomes the main-clause order. A similar situation has been long noted in German, where traditional description ascribes the more conservative OV order to all types of subordinate clauses, contrasting with the more innovative VO in main clauses, as in (A. Meyer, i.p.c.; see also Borgert and Nyhan 1976): (22) a. Main clause (VO) der Mann isst den Apfel the/nom man eats the/acc apple ‘the man eats the apple’ b. Relative clause (OV) der Mann der den Apfel isst the/nom man sub the/acc apple eats ‘the man who eats the apple…’ c. Adverbial clause (OV) wenn der Mann den Apfel isst if the/nom man the/acc apple eats ‘if the man eats the apple…’ d. Cognition-verb complement (OV) ich weiss dass der Mann den Apfel isst I know sub the/nom man the/acc apple eats ‘I know that the man eats the apple’ e. Manipulation-verb complement (OV) sie erlaubte mir den Apfel zu essen she allowed me the/acc apple to eat ‘she allowed me to eat the apple’

248 Syntax

f.

Modality-verb complement (OV) ich wünsche den Apfel zu essen I wish the/acc apple to eat ‘I’d like to eat the apple’

As in Kru, when modality verbs grammaticalize into tense-aspect-modal auxiliaries in German, the conservative OV order of their complements ‘surfaces’ into various main clauses, as in (A. Meyer, i.p.c., spoken Austrian dialect): (23) a. ‘want’ Fut: der Mann wird den Apfel essen the man want the apple eating ‘the man will eat the apple’ b. ‘have’ Perf Past: der Mann hat den Apfel gegessen the man has the apple eaten ‘the man has eaten/ate the apple’ c. ‘be’ Prog: der man ist der Apfel am essen the man is the apple at eating ‘the man is eating the apple’ d. ‘be’ Passive: der Apfel wurde von dem Mann gegessen the apple was by the man eaten ‘the apple was eaten by the man’ A more extensive case of such ‘surfacing’ of subordinate-clause syntax into main-clause syntax has been described, for the Carib family, by Gildea (1998). 5.4.1.2
Different direct-object vs. indirect-object order In several erstwhile-SOV languages, a fairly stable word-order is found where the direct object precedes the verb (OV) and the indirect object follows (VO). This has been reported in the Mende (Mendeic, Niger-Congo), in the neighboring Senufu languages (Voltaic, Niger-Congo), in the Chibchan family in Central America (Young and Givón 1990; Craig 1991), and in Hixkaryana (Carib; Derbyshire 1981). As an example of rigid S-O-V-IO order, consider the following from Kpelle (Mende; W. Welmers, i.p.c.): (24) a. è kâli kaa he hoe saw ‘he saw the hoe’ b. è li kâlong-p¸i he went chief-to ‘he went to the chief’

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c. è s¸eng-kâu tèe kâlong-p¸i he money sent chief-to ‘he sent the money to the chief’ d. è wúru tee bóa-à he stick cut knife-with ‘he cut the stick with a knife’ This ‘disharmonious’ word-order was ascribed in earlier studies to gradual word-order change, whereby the indirect object preceded the direct object in the drift from OV to VO (Hyman 1975; Givón 1975a). More recent studies have unearthed a much more detailed mechanism responsible for this change — the reanalysis of serial verb (object–verb) subclauses into post-positional phrases, due to the grammaticalization of the verbs (Young and Givón 1990; Craig 1991; Carlson 1991). Indirect objects did not shift their word order from OV to VO. 5.4.1.3
Different referring object vs. non-referring object order The incorporation of object noun-stems into verbs is a well-known mechanism for coding non-referring objects (a sub-type of the antipassive construction; see Ch. 13). In some languages, this pattern was set during an earlier diachronic stage with one word-order, after which clausal word-order changed. The result is that referring objects appear on one side of the verb, while non-referring ones — ‘trapped’ in the incorporating pattern — appear on the other. As an illustration, consider Ute (Uto-Aztecan), in which incorporated objects are pre-verbal (OV), but the current word-order is flexible, allowing post-verbal objects (Givón 1980): (25) a. Referring object (VO) ta’wach ’u pakha-ux-pu =ga sivaatuchi ‘uway man/nom def/nom kill-asp-rem goat/acc def/acc ‘the man killed the goat’ b. Referring object (OV) ta’wach ’u sivaatuchi ‘uway pakha-ux-pu =ga man/nom def/nom goat/acc def/acc kill-asp-rem ‘the man killed the goat’ c. Non-referring object (antipassive; OV) ta’wach ’u sivaatu-pakha-na-pu =ga man/nom def/nom goat-kill-hab-rem ‘that man used to kill goats’ d. Non-referring object in agent nominalization (OV) ta’wach ’u sivaatu-pakha-mi-t man/nom def/nom goat-kill-hab-nom ‘that man is a goat-killer’

250 Syntax

e. Non-referring object in action nominalization (OV) sivaatu-pakha-ta ka-’ay-wa-t ’ura-’ay goat-kill-nom neg-good-neg-nom be-imm ‘goat-killing is bad’ A reminiscent pattern is found in English, as is evident from the glosses to (25d,e) above. However, the English pattern is confined to nominalizations, and has not been generalized into main-clause antipassive constructions, though it certainly has the potential for such development.1 Again, the pre-verbal locus of incorporated object in English harkens back to the older SOV order of Anglo-Saxon (Old English), contrasting with the more innovative current SVO clausal order. 5.4.1.4
Different nominal object vs. verbal complement order In many otherwise-rigid SOV languages, verbal complements, especially those of perception-cognition-utterance verbs, either optionally or obligatorily follow the verb, thus displaying VO order. As an illustration, consider Sherpa (Tibeto-Burman; K. Lama, i.p.c.): (26) a. Nominal object (OV) nyee cenyi caaq-yin I/erg cup break-perf ‘I broke the cup’ b. Verbal complement (VO) nyee si-kyaa-yin lagha kyaa-yin I/erg say-do-perf work do-perf ‘I said that I worked’ It is doubtful whether one needs to consider this a typological ‘inconsistency’. Larger clausal constituents, regardless of word-order type, are often extracted from their main clause. Such extraction is probably motivated by a principle of contiguity — keeping the main-clause subject and object adjacent to their proper verb (see §5.7 below). 5.4.1.5
Different finite vs. nominalized order We have already noted above (§5.4.1.3) that the word order in VP nominalizations in English is OV, reflecting an older historical order, while the current finite main-clause order is VO. A converse case can be seen in Akkadian (Semitic), where an older VSO order changed to SOV under the impact of contact with an older sub-stratum (Sumerian). As a result, finite clausal order in Akkadian is OV, while the frozen order in nominalization is VO (Bucellati 1970): (27) Finite clauses (OV) a. ina idi amma-niya illaku at side/of troops-my go/3pl ‘they go alongside my troops’

Word order

b. anna šharr-im ikrub for king-gen prayed/3sg ‘he prayed for the king’ c. abull-am inassar gate-acc guard/3sg ‘he guards the gate’ d. dull-am ippesh work-acc do/3sg ‘he does work’ (28) Nominalizations (VO) a. Aliku¯t did amma-niya goers side troops-my ‘goers at the side of my troops’ b. ikrib šharr-i prayer/poss king-gen ‘prayer for the king’ c. maššaar abul-im watcher/poss gate-gen ‘gate-keeper’ d. apish dull-im doer/poss work-gen ‘worker’ Once again, ‘disharmony’ in word-order finds a natural diachronic explanation. 5.4.1.6
Different nominal vs. pronominal order In many languages, bound clitic (or inflectional) pronouns appear on the opposite side of the verb than the corresponding subjects or object full-NPs. Technically, such situations should not be counted as ‘disharmony’ in word-order, since cliticized morphemes, once frozen in place are not independent words. The position of clitic pronouns — and thus eventually pronominal inflections — on the verb is determined by the interaction of three factors, two of them diachronic, the third synchronic (Givón 1976): i. Unstressed anaphoric pronouns are derived historically from stressed, often contrastive independent pronouns. ii. When nominal word-order changes over time, bound morphology remains in place. iii. The position of stressed pronouns vis-a-vis the verb is often determined by the pragmatics of focusing, and is sometimes at variance with the prevalent full-NP order. While factors (i), (ii) are rather universal, factor (iii) is subject to considerable crosslanguage diversity, having to do with the type of contrastive-pronoun constructions available in a language, as well as the contrastive use of stress. This may be seen in the use of object pronouns in English:

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Syntax

(29) a. Nominal object (VO) She saw the boy b. Stress-focused object pronoun She saw HIM c. Unstressed anaphoric (clitic) object pronoun She saw-him d. Stressed contrastive-topic object pronoun HIM she saw, HER she didn’t When independent pronouns become de-stressed and anaphoric and then cliticize, their clitic position may reflect their erstwhile order as stressed, contrastive independent pronouns. This was, presumably, the situation in Spanish, where the current pre-verbal position of the clitic object pronoun arose during a period of VO syntax, and thus cannot be explained as frozen relics of earlier OV order (as erroneously suggested in Givón 1971). Rather, the pre-verbal position of object clitic pronouns most likely reflects their position as erstwhile fronted stressed contrastive pronoun, comparable to the English (29d) above, as in (30c) below: (30) a. Nominal object (VO) ví a María saw/I obj M. ‘I saw Mary’ b. Unstressed object clitic (OV) la-ví her-saw/I ‘I saw her’ c. Stressed contrastive independent pronoun (OV) a ella (la-)hé visto obj she (her-)have/I seen ‘HER I’ve (already) seen’ One diachronic factor that often affects the morphotactic position of subject pronouns on the verb is the grammaticalization of tense-aspect-modality markers, from modality verbs preceding or following a non-finite equi-subject complement. In the early stages of such grammaticalization, the erstwhile verb becomes a finite auxiliary, carrying the clitic subject pronoun (or inflection). When the auxiliary cliticizes on the verb, it pulls the subject pronoun with it. This may be illustrated with the Spanish ‘be’ and ‘have’ auxiliaries, which themselves carry an old suffixal pronominal conjugation: (31) a. est-oy hablando be-I speaking est-ás hablando be-you speaking est-á hablando be-s/he speaking

‘I am talking’ ‘you are talking’ ‘s/he is talking’

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b. lo-h-é visto it-have-I seen la-h-as visto her-have-you seen los-h-á visto them-have-s/he seen

‘I have seen it’ ‘you have seen her’ ‘s/he has seen them’

The cliticization of the auxiliaries to the lexical verb in Spanish, now ongoing (though obscured by the conservative writing system), yields a rather unwieldy ‘sandwich’ slot for the subject pronominal inflections — between the new tense-aspect-modal marker and the verb stem. The new T-A-M marker — old auxiliary — itself will be now sandwiched between the subject and object pronouns. A somewhat similar synchronic situation can be seen in Bantu languages, where the cliticization of both object pronouns and tense-aspect-modal markers is a bit more advanced. Thus, from Swahili, currently an SVO language: (32) a. a-li-ki-soma s/he/-past-it-read ‘s/he read it (the book)’ b. ni-me-vi-soma I-perf-them-read ‘I read them (the books’) c. u-ta-mw-ona you-fut-him/her-see ‘you’ll see him/her’ While the erstwhile verbs that grammaticalized as T-A-M markers in Swahili brought their prefixal subject pronouns with them, the pre-verbal object pronouns have their own specific history, perhaps similar to that of the object clitics in Spanish, above. Another example of discrepancy between frozen pronominal order and current nominal word-order may be seen in Amharic, an SOV language in which the clitic pronominal order in the perfect conjugation harkens back to the old Semitic V-S-O order: (33) a. Nominal order (SOV) setwa wämbär säbbär-ach woman chair broke-she ‘the woman broke a chair’ b. Pronominal order (VSO) säbbär-ach-u =w broke-she-it ‘she broke it’ Finally, in Biblical Hebrew the preterit conjugation exhibits an S-V-O pronominal order but rigid VSO nominal order. The perfect conjugation, on the other hand, exhibits a V-S-O pronominal order but an S-V-O or O-V-S nominal order (an inverse construction, see Ch. 13), as in:

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Syntax

(34) a. Preterit nominal order (VSO) va-ya-r’ ’elohim ’et-ha-’or and-he-saw God acc-the-light ‘and God saw the light’ (Gen. 1:4) b. Preterit pronominal order (S-V-O) va-yi-r’e-hu and-he-saw-him ‘and he saw him’ c. Perfect nominal order (Adv-V-S-O; inverse) be-re’shit bara’ ’elohim ’et-ha-shamayim in-beginning create/perf/he God acc-the-heavens ‘In the beginning God created the heaven…’ (Gen. 1:1) d. Perfect nominal order (SVO) ve-ha-’ada yad-a’’ ’et-Hava ’ist-o and-the-man knew-he acc-Eve wife-his ‘And Adam knew his wife Eve’ (Genesis 4:1) e. Perfect pronominal order (VSO) yed a’’-ah knew he-her ‘he knew her’ Finally, in languages with so-called second position clitics, the suffixing of subject or object pronouns to the first word in the clause is altogether independent of nominal word-order. As an example consider Ute, ex-SOV but currently a flexible-order language: (35) a. ’aavu =-n tu =ka-y now-I eat-imm ‘now I’m eating’ b. kaci-n tu =ka-wa neg-I eat-neg ‘I am not eating’ c. tu =kuavi-n ’uru tu =ka-y meat/obj-I that/obj eat-imm ‘I am eating the meat’ d. tu =ka-yi-n eat-imm-I ‘I am eating’ e. nu =-’ura-ax tu =ka-y I-top-it eat-imm ‘I’m the one who’s eating it’ f. kac-ax tu =ka-wa neg-it eat-neg ‘(I am) not eating it’

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g. tu =ka-y-ax eat-imm-it ‘(I am) eating it’ The gist of all this is to suggest that ‘disharmony’ between nominal and pronominal wordorder are common, are natural, and are almost always the result of complex interaction between synchronic and diachronic factors. 5.4.2

Mixed word-order in the NP 5.4.2.1
Orientation In §5.3.2.4 above we noted two presumed inconsistencies in English NP word-order: internal inconsistency in having both pre-nominal and post-nominal •
An modifiers in the NP. typological ‘disharmony’ between the Mod-N order in the NP and VO •
Aorder in the VP. We noted, further, that the presumption of inconsistency or ‘disharmony’ is rooted in a certain Platonic mind-cast that assumes, without specifying a clear causal mechanism, that languages would somehow tend toward ‘harmony’ between VP and NP syntax.2 In this section we return to discuss in more detail the profoundly diachronic underpinning of word-order correlation. Taken together, the cases we survey suggest the causal explanation to both the ‘harmonious’ and ‘disharmonious’ cases: The diachronic pathway of grammaticalization via which particular constructions arose. Taken as a whole, our discussion here constitutes a head-on challenge to abstract ‘consistency’ and ‘harmony’ as explanatory notions in syntax. As we shall see further below (§5.5), the very same argument can be raised for bound morphology. 5.4.2.2
Consequences of word-order change: Akkadian Akkadian, a classical Semitic language of Mesopotamia, changed from VO to OV clausal order through massive contact with an older Sumerian (SOV) substratum. Its NP wordorder, however, has remained unaffected by the change in clausal syntax, retaining the characteristic Semitic order N-Mod. Thus consider (Bucellati 1970): (36) a. Simple main clause (SOV) awil-um alp-am di’âsh-im îgur man-nom ox-acc threshing-gen hired ‘The man hired the ox for threshing’ b. Rel-clause (OV) and NP (N-Rel) awil-um sha eli-shu kish-î iddu man-nom rel upon-him magic-acc/pl cast ‘the man who cast magic upon him’

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Syntax

c. Noun phrase (N-Adj) rê’u damaguti shepherd good ‘the good shepherd’ d. Noun phrase (N-Dem) awil-um shu man-nom this ‘this man’ Akkadian thus constitutes the converse case of Mandarin Chinese, where clausal order changed from the characteristic Tibeto-Burman OV to the current VO, presumably through contact with an Austro-Asiatic (SVO) substratum. The entrenched Mod-N order in the NP has survived in Mandarin, presumably as a relic of the older OV syntax. 5.4.2.3
The ordering of genitive/possessive modifiers One of the stronger Greenbergian correlations between OV/VO clausal syntax and Mod-N/ N-Mod in the NP involves genitive modifiers, both pronominal and nominal. But even this strong correlation turns out to be diachronically mediated. To begin with, there exist well-known grammaticalization pathways for creating either the Gen-N or N-Gen NP order altogether independently of the OV/VO dichotomy. They involve the ‘condensation’ of loose paratactic structures — either L-dislocation and R-dislocation (Givón 1976, 1979a) — into tighter syntactic constructions. Thus consider (for Ute see Givón 1980; for Chuave see Thurman 1978): (37) a. L-dislocation  John, in-hosfi John his-house ‘John, his house’

Gen-N in a VO language (Krio) John in-hos John his-house ‘John’s house’

b. R-dislocation  bet-o, shel-Yoseffi house, of-Joseph ‘his house, Joseph’s

N-Gen in a VO language (Hebrew) bet-o shel-Yosef house-his of-Joseph ‘Joseph’s house’

c. L-dislocation Gen-N in an OV language (Ute) máayas, Núumaroghomapu =gatu = kan fi his God/gen house ‘his, God’s house’ máayas Núumaroghomapu =gatu = kan his God’s house ‘God’s house’ d. R-dislocation  na-non, nam-ifi my-pig my-that ‘my pig, mine’

N-Gen in an OV language (Chuave) na-non nam-i my-pig my-that ‘my pig’

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In fact, the current English pattern ‘John’s house’ (37a) arose via the very same diachronic pathway as in Krio (Janda 1978). Even when the Greenbergian correlations are strong, they turn out to still be diachronically mediated. Consider verb-phrase nominalizations that transform a VP into an NP. In the nominalized resulting structure, the erstwhile verb is the head noun and the erstwhile object its genitive modifier. Thus, in Hebrew (SVO): (38) a. Finite clause, referring object; V-O hi ro’-a ‘et-ha-tso’n she herds/imperf.v-sf acc-the-sheep ‘she herds the sheep’ b. Nominalized VP, referring object; N-Gen ro’a-t ha-tzo’n herder/sf-of the-sheep ‘the herder of the sheep’ c. Nominalized VP, non-referring object; N-Gen ro’a-t tso’n herder/sf-of sheep ‘sheep-herder’ The two nominalized patterns in Hebrew, (38b) and (38c), yield the same N-Gen wordorder, since both were grammaticalized during a period of VO syntax. In English, the compound Gen-N pattern (38c) was set up during an earlier OV period of Anglo-Saxon, and is indeed a relic of that older syntax. The second N-Gen pattern (38b), on the other hand, was set up during the much later VO period of Middle English, and thus still conforms to Greenberg’s generalization. In Japanese (SOV), the very same process of VP nominalization will yield Gen-N word-order in the NP, as in (A. Hayashi, i.p.c.): (39) a. Finite clause (OV) shika-o koro-shita deer-acc kill-past ‘(he) killed the deer’ b. Nominalized VP, referring object (Gen-N) shika-o koro-su-koto deer-acc kill-imperf.v-nom ‘the killing of deer’ b. Nominalized VP, non-referring object (Gen-N) shika-goro-shi deer-kill-nom ‘deer-killing’, ‘deer-killer’ The earlier historical use of the genitive suffix in pattern (39c) has been discontinued. Once a pattern of modification of a head noun by a genitive modifier has been

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established, it can easily serve as a beach-head for analogical extension to other N-N compounds, including ‘true’ possessives and even Adj-N compounds, as in: (40) a. swords-man, woods-man, helms-man, cocks-man, guards-man b. land-lord, wine-bottle, horse-back c. bigfoot, greybill, blackbird, hotsprings The genitive suffix has been zeroed out in most English N-N compounds (40b) surviving only in older relic forms (40a). In languages in which adjectives are morphologically noun-like, i.e. carry the same gender/number and case-marking morphology, the Gen-N pattern can be further extended to adjectival modifiers. Unlike the abstract x-bar principle (‘harmony’), these analogical extensions are much more concrete and plausible, driven by close morphological and syntactic similarities. 5.4.2.4
The ordering of Rel-clause in the NP Like some genitive modifiers, relative clauses often establish their syntactic position vis-a-vis the head noun by ‘condensation’ from an earlier paratactic construction, in which they are either pre-posed (L-dislocated) or post-posed (R-dislocated) vis-a-vis the main clause. Both patterns may be seen in Bambara, a rigid OV language (Mendeic, Niger-Congo; Bird 1968): (41)

a. Unembedded, pre-posed ce¸ min ye muru san, n ye o ye man that past knife bought I past him see Ï
‘That man bought the knife, I saw him’ ¸ Ì ˝
‘The man who bought the knife, I saw him’ Ó ˛ b. Unembedded, post-posed n ye o ye, ce¸ min ye muru san I past him see man that past knife bought Ï
‘I saw him, that man bought the knife’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘I saw him, the man who bought the knife’ ˛

When such paratactic constructions are condensed into embedded syntactic structures, a major process in grammaticalization (Givón 1979: Ch. 5, 1991d), the demonstrative min ‘that’ is re-interpreted as a relative pronoun, still retaining its clause-internal position after the head noun. For example, in the condensation of either (41a) or (42b), the subject of the main clause is placed — or left — at the clause-initial position (SOV) and the anaphoric pronoun is dispensed with. In the process, the entire erstwhile-pre-posed (or post-posed) Rel-clause is left at the characteristic object position (OV): (42) a. n ye [c¸e min ye muru san] ye I past [man that past knife bought] saw ‘I saw the man who bought the knife’ (lit.: ‘I [that man bought the knife] saw’) The fact that the relative clause now seems to follow the head noun in (42) is but a consequence of a series of diachronic adjustments from the loose parataxis of (41) to the

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tight embedded syntax of (42). But the process of condensation can also yield stranger structures, in which the Rel-clause seemingly spreads on both sides of the head noun, as occurs when that modified noun is the subject of the main clause in Bambara: (43) [n ye c¸e min ye ye] muru san [I past man that past see] knife buy ‘The man that I saw bought the knife’ (lit.: ‘[I saw that man] bought the knife’) In German, a post-posed Rel-clause pattern has been grammaticalized during a VO-order period by a similar condensation, in the process re-analyzing a stressed demonstrative pronoun into an unstressed relative pronoun, as in (T. Vennemann, i.p.c.): (44) a. Paratactic non-restrictive Rel-clause der Mann, den ich schon lange kenne, … the/nom man, that/acc I already long know  ‘the man, that one I’ve known for a long time, …’ b. Syntactic restrictive Rel-clause der Mann den ich schon lange kenne… the/nom man that/acc I already long know ‘the man whom I’ve known for a long time, …’ Once again, the position of the modifier — in this case the Rel-clause — vis-a-vis the head noun is predictable from the diachrony of its grammaticalization, which in this case is independent of the VO/OV dimension of clausal syntax. 5.4.2.5
The ordering of modifying adjectives In many languages, adjectives can either precede or follow the head noun, with the variation often coding, at least initially, the pragmatic difference between restrictive an non-restrictive modification (see Vol. II, Ch. 11). As an illustration, consider the following examples from Spanish (VO), where the variation often invites a further semantic shift in the meaning of the adjective: (45) a. Pre-nominal (non-restrictive) es un pobre hombre ‘he’s a miserable man’ 3sg/be a poor man es un gran mujer ‘she’s a great woman’ 3sg/be a big woman b. Post-nominal (restrictive) es un hombre pobre 3sg/be a man poor es una mujer grande 3sg/be a woman big

‘he’s a poor man’ ‘she’s a big woman’

If one wants to use the adjective contrastively, only the restrictive pattern (45b) can be used, as in:

260 Syntax

(46) a. es un hombre (muy) pobre, no es rico 3sg/is a man (very) poor neg 3sg/be rich ‘he’s a (very) poor man, not a rich one’ b. es una mujer (muy) grande, no es pequeña 3sg/be a woman very big neg 3sg/be small ‘she’s a (very) big woman, not a small one’ In contrast, the non-restrictive pattern (45b) can only be contrasted as a compound unit: (47) a. fue un pobre hombre, no fue un (pobre) mujer was/3sg a poor man neg was/3sg a (poor) woman ‘it was a miserable man, not a (miserable) woman’ In Ute, a language recently changed from SOV to flexible word-order, the exact same variation can be observed (Givón 1980): (48) a. Pre-nominal; compound (non-restrictive) sá-gava ‘a white-horse’ white-horse b. Post-nominal; separate words (restrictive) kava sa-gha-ru =-m ‘a white horse’ horse white-have-adj-an As in Spanish, only post-nominal adjectives (48b) can be used contrastively in Ute. Prenominal adjectives form a compound with the modified head noun. The gist of the argument remains the same: Whether a language develops pre-nominal or post-nominal modifying adjectives may depend on grammaticalization patterns that are altogether independent on VO/OV clausal order.

5.5

Word-order and bound morphology

5.5.1

Reorientation We return now to Greenberg’s (1966a) last correlation (2c), the one predicting an association between OV syntax and suffixal morphology, as against VO syntax and prefixal morphology. Once again, an examination of the diachronic pathways of grammaticalization, via which bound morphemes arise out of erstwhile lexical words, suggests that no abstract principle of ‘harmony’ is involved here either. Rather, in each individual case about which etymological and diachronic evidence is available, the morphotactic position of the morpheme vis-a-vis the lexical word-stem to which it cliticizes is fully explained by its peculiar diachronic history. That is, provided enough information is available concerning: lexical word, particularly the word-type, that gave rise to the morpheme; •
the
the syntactic construction within which that lexical word found itself at the time of • grammaticalization and cliticization;

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the word-order in that construction at the time of grammaticalization and cliticization; •
any • subsequent word-order change. In the following sub-sections we will survey some of the better-known types of grammaticalization. 5.5.2

Case-marking morphology on nouns or NPs There are two major venues for the primary grammaticalization of case marking, the first de-verbal, the second de-nominal. The de-verbal pathway involves serial verb constructions in which the verb becomes re-analyzed as a case-marker on its object NP. If the verb precedes the object in the source construction (VO), it cliticizes as a prefix on it. If it follows the object (OV), is cliticizes as a suffix. As an illustration of the SVO-ordered pattern, consider Akan (Niger-Congo; Osam 1997): (49) a. Accusative ‘take’ Kofi de sika-no maa papa-no Kofi take money-the gave man-the ‘Kofi gave the money to the man’ b. Dative/benefactive ‘give’ Esi turr abofra-no maa maame-no Esi carried child-the gave woman-the ‘Esi carried the child for the woman’ c. Ablative ‘leave’ Esi yii tam-no fii pon-no-do Esi took cloth-the left table-the-on ‘Esi took the cloth off the table’ d. Allative ‘go’ Ebo soaa adaka-no ko¸ o¸ skuul Ebo carried box-the went school ‘Ebo carried the box to school’ e. Instrumental ‘take’ Kofi de sekan-no twaa ahoma-no Kofi take knife-the cut rope-the ‘Kofi cut the rope with the knife’ f.

Associative ‘join’ Esi nye aberwa-no dzii edziban-no Esi joined old.woman-the ate food-the ‘Esi ate the food with the old woman’

g. Manner ‘take’ Maame-no de aningye wee nam-no woman-the take joy chewed fish-the ‘The woman ate the fish with relish’

262 Syntax

As an illustration of the SOV order, consider Ijo (Niger-Congo; Williamson 1965): (50) a. Accusative ‘take’ yé akí-ni u bé thing take-asp him tell ‘tell him a thing’ b. Instrumental ‘take’ erí ogidi akí-ni indi pei-mi he machete take-asp fish cut-asp ‘he cut the fish with the machete’ c. Dative/benefactive ‘give’ dúma tuna-ni a píri song sing-asp her give ‘sing a song for her’ d. Allative ‘go’ erí uwóu dùo wéni-mi he road go walk-asp ‘he walked to the road’ e. Ablative ‘come’ erí amá dùo you bo-mí he town go paddle come-Asp ‘he paddling over from town’ f.

Traversive ‘cross’ erí okí mu toru bein-mi he swim go river cross-asp ‘he swam across the river’

g. ‘Circle’ erí áru-bi òki yoro-mi he canoe-the swim circle-asp ‘he swam around the canoe’ The second, de-nominal, source of case-markers involves body-part or locational nouns, initially in a construction where they are the head noun modified by a genitive ‘possessor’ (see (18), (19) above). Out of such constructions, the locational noun grammaticalizes as locative case-marker. When the word-order in the source nominal construction is N-Gen, the grammaticalized locational noun yields a prefix vis-a-vis its original ‘possessor’ noun. As an illustration of this order, consider Bemba (Bantu; Givón 1972): (51) a. pa-isaamba lyaa-ngaanda at-bottom of-house b. ku-muulu waa-ngaanda to-sky of-house

‘under the house’ ‘on top of the house’

Word order

263

c. mu-kati kaa-ngaanda in-center of-house d. pa-ntaanshi yaa-ngaanda at-face of-house e. kuu-nse yaa-ngaanda to-exterior of-house f. ku-mbali yaa-ngaanda to-shade of-house g. kuu-nshi yaa-ngaanda to-ground of-house

‘in the middle of the house’ ‘in front of the house’ ‘out of the house’ ‘alongside the hose’ ‘to the bottom of the house’

In a language with Gen-N word-order in the NP, the very same grammaticalization process yields the opposite order of cliticization. As an example, consider Kru (Niger-Congo; Givón 1975a): (52) a. sra-kpo(n) ‘on top of the house’ houe-top b. tun-na-sonti ‘under the tree’ tree-the-ground c. sra-ju ‘in front of the house’ house-front d. sra-wakaey ‘near the house’ house-side e. sra-bweti ‘under the house’ house-bottom f. bloku(n)-kli ‘inside the box’ box-innards g. sra-de ‘behind the house’ house-back As one can see, the causative link to morphotactics here is not the VO/OV clausal order, but rather the N-Gen/Gen-N nominal order. To the extent that the latter correlates with the former (as in Bemba or English), there is an indirect link to VP order. But in Kru (SVO) this correlation does not exist synchronically, although it did exist earlier on, before the language changed from OV to VO. One must note that the two diachronic channels described above, de-verbal and denominal, are only the most likely direct routes for the grammaticalization of case-marking morphemes. Once a case-marker is in place, several well-known pathways exist for its regrammaticalization. Thus, for example, the instrumental is easily extended into either manner or associative. The benefactive often extends into the dative, or vice-versa. The allative often extends into the dative, and then onward into the accusative. And either the instrumental, the dative, or the genitive can extend into the agent-of-passive/inverse, then into ergative, and ultimately also into the nominative.

264 Syntax

5.5.3

Tense-aspect-modal morphology Probably the most reliable correlation between clausal word-order — at the time of grammaticalization — and order of morphemes vis-a-vis stems is found in the cliticization of tense-aspect-modal morphemes on the verbal word. This is because the overwhelming majority of such morphemes comes from the reanalysis of a relatively small group of verbs (Givón 1971a, 1972, 1973a, 1975a, 1979a; Traugott and Heine eds 1991; Heine 1993; Bybee et al. 1994). The contributory verbs are modal-aspectual or directional-deictic verbs that take equi-subject verbal complements (see Ch. 3, §3.3.7.1). In VO languages, the complement tends to follow the main verb, so when the main verb grammaticalizes, it cliticizes as a prefix on the erstwhile complement verb. In OV languages, the complement tends to precede the main verb, so the main verb cliticizes as a suffix on the erstwhile complement verb. As an illustration of the VO grammaticalization pattern, consider Swahili (Bantu; Givón 1972): (53) a. Order in complementation (V-Comp) a-na-taka ku-soma s/he-prog-want inf-read ‘s/he wants to read’ b. Past tense (-*li ‘be’) a-li-soma s/he-past-read ‘she read’ c. Perfect (-*maala/-meele ‘finish’) a-me-soma s/he-perf-read ‘s/he has read’ d. Progressive (-*na ‘have’) a-na-soma s/he-prog-read ‘s/he is reading’ e. Future (-*taka ‘want’) a-ta-soma s/he-fut-read ‘s/he will read’ As an illustration of an OV order at the time of grammaticalization, consider Ute (UtoAztecan; Givón 1980): (54) a. Order in complementation (Comp-V) wu == u ka-vaa-ch ’asti-’i work-irr-nom want-imm ‘(s/he) wants to work’

Word order

265

b. Perfect (-*ka ‘have’) wu == u ka-kha work-perf ‘(s/he) had worked’ c. Remote past (-*pu =-ga ‘nom-have/be’) wu == u ka-pu =ga work-rem ‘(s/he) worked’ d. Imperfective/distributive (-*paghay ‘walk’/‘go’) wu == u ka-paghay-pu =ga work-distr-rem ‘(s/he) kept working here & there’ e. Future (-*pa/-va ‘go’; -*ni ‘do’) wu == u ka-vaani work-fut ‘(s/he) will work’ f. Habitual (-*miya ‘go’/‘walk’) wu == u ka-mi(ya) work-hab ‘(s/he) always works’ g. Inceptive (-*kuca ‘start’) wu == u ka-ucha work-incep ‘(s/he) is about to work’ One must note that this correlation is strongest when the main modal-aspectual verb is finite and the complement non-finite or nominalized, as indeed is the case in Swahili (53a) and Ute (54a). In such a pattern, the main verb grammaticalizes first into a finite auxiliary, as in English or Spanish. When it cliticizes next, it carries its finite verb morphology with it into the merged verbal word. The very same semantic process of grammaticalization may also occur in serial-verb languages. But there, the predictability between clausal order and the eventual order of tense-aspect-modal cliticization is much weaker. To begin with, the grammaticalized modal-aspectual verb can appear in a serial clause either before or after the ‘complement’ verb, so that if cliticization occurs, both prefixes and suffixes can arise out of either VO or OV syntax. What is more, in serial-verb languages there is often no sharp difference in finiteness between the main and ‘complement’ verb. For this reason, semanticallygrammaticalized auxiliaries may be just as finite or even less finite as their ‘complement’. As an illustration of this, consider first Tok Pisin (Neo-Melanesian Pidgin), a rigidSVO language where aspectual and directional auxiliaries arise from serial phrases that follow the ‘complement’ verb. Some of those auxiliaries are just as finite as their ‘complements’, but one is less finite. And further, when the main verb is transitive, the auxiliary is separate from it by the object NP, and thus cannot easily cliticize on the main verb. Thus consider (Givón 1991c):

266 Syntax

(55) a. i-wokabaut i-go (*go > ‘away’) pred-move pred-away ‘s/he walked away (from it)’ b. tromwe tik i-go (*go > ‘away’) throw stick pred-go ‘(s/he) threw the stick away’ c. i-wokabaut i-kam… (*come > ‘toward’) pred-walk pred-toward ‘s/he walked over (toward it)’ d. em karim tik i-kam (*come) > ‘toward’) s/he carry stick pred-toward ‘s/he brings the wood over (toward the place)’ e. em brukim i-stap… (*stop > ‘iterative’) he break pred-be ‘s/he keeps breaking (it)’ f. em wokim paya pinis (*finish > ‘completive’) s/he make fire comp.let ‘s/he manages to start the fire’ The converse may be seen in Supyire (Senufu, Niger-Congo), a rigid-SOV serial-verb language. In Supyire, modal-aspectual auxiliaries that are derived from serial verbs may either precede or follow their ‘complement’. The rigid word-order in Senufu languages is S-Aux-O-V-IO. Most old tense-aspect markers are derived from pre-verbal auxiliaries, and should have thus cliticized as prefixes on their ‘complements’, rather than as suffixes as one would expect in an SOV language. Indirect objects (post-positional phrases), on the other hand, follow the main verb, and are also derived historically from transitive serial-verb constructions. Thus (Carlson 1991): (56) a. u-à pyi-a kàrè s/he-perf past-nf go ‘s/he had gone’ b. u-à jà-a njyi-ngi lyi s/he-perf can-nf food-the eat ‘s/he was able to eat the food’ c. u-na njyi-ngi lyi s/he-prog food-the eat/imperf.v ‘s/he is eating the food’ d. u-à pa kanha-nà s/he-perf come village-loc ‘s/he came to the village’ e. u-a njyi-ngi lwo-à ¸ kan mìì-á s/he-perf food-the take-nf give me-to ‘s/he (took and) gave it to me’

Word order

Auxiliaries would have a hard time cliticizing as verb-prefixes in Supyire, however, because whenever their ‘complement’ is transitive (56b,c,e), the intervening object NP blocks cliticization of the tense-aspect marker on the following verb. What is more, some modalaspectual serial verbs may appear either before or after their ‘complement: (57) a. u-à kù tà’a-a kwo¸ s/he-perf it put-nf finish ‘s/he finished cooking it’ ‘s/he had already cooked it’ b. mà kwo-a ¸ yyèèlà-a kù to¸ oga-a ¸ wìì and finish-nf stoop-nf it pinch-nf look.at ‘and (s/he) stooped down and pinched it’ In sum, the ordering of modal-aspectual auxiliaries vis-a-vis the semantic main verb in Supyire has little to do with the expected Comp-V word-order of an SOV language. Complementation is a serial construction in Supyire, and its ordering depends on the complex diachronic process via which clause-chains have been condensed into serial-verb clauses, i.e. the type of clause union one finds in serializing languages (see Vol. II, Ch. 12, as well as Givón 1995: Ch. 6). In such languages, ordering constraints on complementation harken back to ordering in the clause chain that gave rise to clause union. Finally, in Supyire as well as in many other languages, tense-aspect-modal morphemes may appear as second position clitics, i.e. suffixed to the first word in the clause, often the subject, as in (56) above. In fact, this can also happen in a non-serializing SVO language such as English, as in: (58) a. John’ll do it if it’s going to help b. Mary’s left, and’ll report back soon c. They’re here, but’d rather not be seen 5.5.4

Negation morphemes The grammaticalization of negation markers follows two widely-attested diachronic pathways, one conforming to Greenberg’s (1966a) typological predictions, the other going in the opposite direction. In both cases, clausal word-order is indeed fully determinative of the resulting morphotactics, provided the diachronic source of the negation marker is specified. This is, thus, as good an example as one could produce of how the correlation between clausal order (VO vs. OV) and morphotactics (prefix vs. suffix) is mediated by the diachronic process of grammaticalization. The first universal source of negation-marking morphemes are inherently negative modality verbs such as ‘fail’, ‘lack’, ‘refuse’, ‘decline’, or ‘avoid’. In the process of grammaticalization, their more specific semantic features are bleached out, leaving only their negative inference: (59) a. He failed to pass … He didn’t pass b. She avoided doing it … She didn’t do it c. They refused to come … They didn’t come

267

268 Syntax

Since the syntactic construction in which the grammaticalization occurs is that of main verb over its verbal complement, in OV languages the negative modality verb would tend to grammaticalize as a suffix, and in VO languages as a prefix. As an illustration of this process in the midst of happening, consider Bemba (Bantu), a strict SVO language, where the verb uku-bula (‘lack’, ‘avoid’) is in the process of being grammaticalized as negation marker, albeit so far in restricted environments. Thus consider (Givón 1972): (60) a. uku-bula inf-avoid b. uku-boomba inf-work c. n-a-bula uku-boomba I-past-avoid inf-work d. uku-bulaa-boomba inf-avoid-work e. n-a-bulaa-boomba I-past-neg-work

‘to avoid’, ‘to lack’ ‘to work’ ‘I avoided working’ ‘not to work’ ‘I didn’t work’, ‘I failed to work’

The second universal source of negation markers are emphatic negative intensifiers, arising out of the transitive object slot. Initially, such intensifiers are added to existing negative constructions for emphasis or further specification. Once entrenched, they can give rise to a non-emphatic double negation construction. In such a construction, they eventually lose their stress and cliticize. Eventually, they go on to replace the old negative marker, which is by now phonologically eroded. It is now obvious why this source of negation gives rise to morphemes that contradict Greenberg’s (1966a) prediction: In a VO language, the erstwhile object would cliticize as a verb suffix, while in an OV language as a prefix. As an illustration, consider French, in which a series of semantically specific object nouns were recruited into emphatic negation: (61) a. je ne march pas (pas ‘step’) I neg march step ‘I don’t march’ (Hist.: ‘I don’t march even a step’) b. je ne connais personne (personne ‘person’) I neg know person ‘I don’t know anybody’ c. je ne sais rien (*ren ‘thing’) I neg know thing ‘I don’t know anything’ While (61b,c) retain their emphatic sense, the locative intensifier pas (61a) eventually became generalized, so that it is now obligatory in non-emphatic double negation, as in: (62) a. je ne connais pas cet homme I neg know neg this man ‘I don’t know this man’

Word order

269

b. je ne le sais pas I neg it know neg ‘I don’t know it’ Finally, in informal colloquial usage the unstressed ne is commonly dropped out, with the verbal suffix pas now becoming the sole negation marker, a suffix arising under VO order: (63) a. je-le-sais-pas I-it-know-neg ‘I don’t know it’ b. je-connais-pas ce mec I-know-neg this guy ‘I don’t know this guy’ The opposite development in an OV language can be seen in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), where the old negative suffix -wa was augmented with a pre-verbal intensifier kach-. At the current state of the language, both are obligatory. However, the intensifier kach- can still appear as a clause-initial independent word if it carries some second-position clitic. Otherwise, it too cliticizes, but as a prefix (Givón 1980): (64) a. kach-in ’uni-wa-ax neg-I do-neg-it ‘I don’t do it’ b. kach-ax-’ura-’u ’uni-na neg-it-top-s/he do-perf/neg ‘s/he didn’t do it’ c. Tumiikux-’ura-n ka-wu == u ka-pu =-a Sunday-top-I neg-work-rem-neg ‘Sunday I didn’t work’ The precise etymology of the negative suffix and prefix in Ute is yet to be ascertained. Since they both arose during a period of OV syntax, it is most likely that -wa was a negative modality verb, perhaps with a longer form -wa’a, as its morpho-phonemic variations suggest. A nominal object source for kach is also plausible. To begin with, kach still carries the nominal suffix (-ch(i)) when used as an independent word (64a,b). What is more, like all incorporated objects in Ute, ka- looses its suffix when prefixed to the verb. Finally, incorporated objects in Ute are always non-referring (antipassive), precisely what one would expect of Neg-intensifying objects, as in French (61). One may as well note that the history of the French double-negative construction recapitulates some of the early history of English negation. In early Middle English (VO), the old and highly eroded negative prefix ne- was augmented by the emphatic negative object ne-ought ‘no-thing’, which later cliticized as the verb suffix nought and eventually de-emphasized and reduced to not. Next, the unstressed prefix ne dropped out altogether. The contracted not now cliticized as a verb suffix, including auxiliary verbs. The affirmative emphatic auxiliary ‘do’/‘did’ also took the suffix not, yielding a new pattern of emphatic negation, which eventually also became de-emphasized. Since auxiliaries precede the main

270 Syntax

verb in a VO language, the negative don’t or didn’t is now a prefixal negation marker. The entire sequence of changes can be given schematically as: (65) a. Non-emphatic negation she ne-see this she neg-see this ‘She doesn’t see this’ b. Emphatic double negation she ne-see ne-ought she neg-see neg-thing ‘She doesn’t see anything’ c. De-emphasized suffixal negation she sees-nought this she sees-neg this ‘She doesn’t see this’ d. Emphatic negation with prefixal auxiliary she does-not see this she emph-neg see this ‘She does not see this’ e. De-emphasized prefixal negation she doesn’t-see this she neg-see this ‘She doesn’t see this Negation with the suffixal not alone still survives in the simple negation of ‘be’ and all auxiliaries, as in: (66) a. b. c. d. e.

She is-n’t here He is-n’t working We have-n’t finished They could-n’t leave He left, but she did-n’t

And the old post-verbal object negation pattern still survives in emphatic non-referring negation, as in: (67) a. b. c. d. e. f.

She loves no-body He understands no-thing They got no-where I see no reason to do this She spared no effort They had no time for her

Word order

5.6

Flexible word-order

5.6.1

Reorientation So far, we have dealt with languages whose word-order is relatively rigid, and is sensitive mostly, if not exclusively, to the grammatical relations subject and object. Indeed, in such languages word-order is one of the overt coding properties of GRs. We noted, further (§5.3.1), that even in the most rigid SVO, SOV, VSO or VOS languages, some word-order variability can be found in a few ‘marked’ clause-types, presumably motivated by pragmatic considerations such as ‘topic’ or ‘focus’. The flexible-order languages discussed in this section may be viewed as extending the limited pragmatically-motivated flexibility found in rigid-order languages. Instead of being restricted to a small number of ‘marked’ clause types, word-order variation in flexibleorder languages is a much more massive phenomenon. This is true first in terms of the frequency of variant word-orders in text, where often no variant is dominant. It is also true in terms of the wider range of clause-types exhibiting word-order variation. It is true, finally, in terms of the more extensive range and subtlety of pragmatic operations performed by word-order variation; although at this point the exact nature of the pragmatic motivation of word-order variation remains a matter of some debate. Since word-order rigidity is not absolute even at its apex, it would hardly be a surprise to note that word-order flexibility is a matter of degree as well. This may be true first synchronically, in that the number of variant-order constructions, above and beyond the rock-bottom small group already noted above, may differ from one flexible-order language to another. But the synchronic gradation may ultimately represent, once again, a diachronic continuum. This is so because a period of word-order flexibility is often part and parcel of the diachronic mechanism via which one rigid word-order changes into another (Givón 1983a). Indeed, word-order change may yield two separate gradients, one characteristic of the early stages, the other of the late stages of the process. Respectively: construction-by-construction relaxation of the older rigid order, •
Awithgradual a gradual increase in the number of clause-types allowing variant orders. re-rigidification of the new word-order, with a gradual increase •
Ain gradual the number of constructions that exhibit the new rigid order. While we will not delve too extensively here into word-order change, one had better keep in mind that the typology of word-order flexibility, just as syntactic typology elsewhere, is profoundly intertwined with the diachrony of word-order change.

5.6.2

Types of flexible-order languages 5.6.2.1
Total flexibility: Ute Ute is a member of the Numic sub-family, northernmost branch of Uto-Aztecan. All evidence suggests that Numic languages have changed from SOV to flexible order fairly recently, so that most grammatical constructions and morphology appear to have grammaticalized during the preceding long period of SOV syntax. Word-order flexibility

271

272

Syntax

in Ute may be illustrated by the following examples, all simple clauses falling under the same intonation contour, all taken from a recorded traditional narrative (Givón 1985a): (68) a. ’iya-na mu =n-’ura agha-paa pörö-xwa-gha ’ani-kh? here-loc you/pl/nom-top wh-dir walk/pl-go-ger do-imm loc subj loc ger-adv v ‘Where are y’all going flocking through here?’ b. mu =n-’ura nu =nay kac ’u-vwaa-tu = nöö’wa-y-’ura you/nom-top me/acc neg there-dir carry-imm-top subj obj loc v ‘Won’t you please carry me there?” c. ’umu =aat ya-yagha-pu =ga ’avaa-am one/part/nom red-cry-rem there-they subj v loc ‘One of them kept crying there’ d. ’uru may-puga ’umu =s that/acc say-rem they/nom obj v subj ‘they said it’ e. ’uwas-’ura payu-kwa-pu =ga ’u mamac-’u she-top return-go-rem that woman-the subj v subj ‘So she returned home, that woman’ f. mavaa-tugwa-su =-ni mawisi-vaani mama-’ayh-pu =c there-to-conj-adj appear-fut woman-child-dim loc v subj ‘A young woman will appear right there’ g. ’umu =s-nukw-’ura-’uru suwa-kwaa-xwa-pu =ay-aghay-’u they-emph-top-that almost-win-asp-rem-concl-him subj v ’uwayas sinawavi him/acc Sinawav/acc obj ‘they almost beat Sinawav (in the race)’ h. ’uni-kya-pu =ga ’umu =s ‘uru do-pl-rem they/nom that/acc v subj obj ‘so they did that’ At the text-frequency level, the following distribution of the various orders may be found in Ute narrative (Givón 1983a):

Word order

273

(70)

total

dir-object

loc-object

word-order

N

%

N

%

N

%

SVO VSO OSV VOS OVS SOV

13 9 13 / 27 32

13.8 9.5 13.8 / 28.8 34.1

7 9 4 / 18 64

6.9 8.8 3.9 / 17.6 62.8

20 18 17 / 45 96

10.2 9.2 8.6 / 23.0 49.0

94

100.0

102

100.0

196

100.0

As one can see, while the historically older SOV is by far the most frequent in text, it does not approach the level of 80%-90% characteristic of the dominant word-order in rigidorder languages. 5.6.2.2
VO order with flexible subject position: Spanish Spanish is as rigid a VO language as English, Jacaltec or Malagasy. However, the subject position is much less rigid, and is presumably sensitive to discourse-pragmatic considerations. The relative frequency of the SV vs. VS order in Spanish is subject to wide variation, pending historical period, dialect, genre, degree of formality and literacy. The language has been, most likely, drifting toward a rigid SVO order, thus recapitulating a similar historical drift in English and French. Consider first examples from Don Quijote (early 16th Century), where the VS order is used in a wide variety of clause-types (Cervantes-Saavedra, pp. 69–83): (70) a. Existential-presentative En un lugar de la Mancha, in a place of La Mancha ‘In a locality of La Mancha, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme, of whose name neg want.I remember.me whose name I would rather not remember, vivía un hidalgo lived a gentleman there lived a gentleman’ b. Chain initial main clause Imaginábase el pobre ya coronado imagined.refl the poor already crowned ‘The poor man imagined himself already crowned’ c. Adv-clause quando salga a luz la verdadera historia when exit/subj to light the true story ‘when the true story should come out’

274 Syntax

d. Finite verb complement dar señal… que llegaba caballero give signal that came/imperf knight ‘give signal… that a knight was coming’ e. Fronted locative si a aquel punto no saliera el ventero if at that point neg exited/subj the shop-keeper ‘if at that very moment the shop-keeper had not come out’ f.

Fronted oblique del poco dormir y del mucho leer se-le-secó el cerebro of little sleep and of much reading refl-dat-dried the mind ‘from little sleep and much reading his mind dried up’

g. Locative Rel-clause de donde, como queda dicho, tomaron los autores from where as remains said took the authors ‘from where, as it is said, the authors took (it)’ h. Object Rel-clause como los que compuso el famoso Feliciano de Silva like those that composed the famous Feliciano de Silva ‘like those that the famous F. de S. had composed’ Examples of the SV order in Don Quijote may be seen in (Cervantes-Saavedra, pp. 69–83): (71) a. Chain initial Pero esto importa poco but this is.important little ‘But this is of little importance’ b. Main clause ningunos no le-parecían tan bien como los que… none neg him-appeared so good as those that ‘none appeared to him as good as those…’ c. Object Rel-clause las heridas que don Belianís daba y recibía the wounds that don B. gave and received ‘the wounds that don B. gave and received’ d. Adv-clause si otros mayores y continuos pensamientos if other great and continuous thoughts no se-lo-estorbaran neg refl-him-disturbed ‘if other great and continuous thoughts had not gotten in his way’

Word order

275

e. Finite verb complement decía que el Cid Ruy Díaz había sido muy buen caballero said/he that el Cid Ruy Díaz had been very good knight ‘he said that El Cid Ruy Díaz had been a very good knight’ Object NPs in Don Quijote are overwhelmingly post-verbal (VO), with the two lone examples of pre-verbal object (OV) in the counted text being: (72) a. El resto della concluían sayo de velarte, calzas de… the rest of.it comprised smock of wool hose of ‘A woolen smock, hose of… (etc.) comprised the rest of it (his attire)’ b. Mucho agrevio me-habedes fecho much aggravation me-have.you done ‘you have given me much grief’ The distribution of the VS/SV and OV/VO word-orders in the first 14 pages of Don Quijote is given in (73) below: (73) Frequency distribution of VS/SV and OV/VO orders in Don Quijote (Cervantes-Saavedra, pp. 69–83) subject

N

%

object

N

%

VS SV

39 34

53.4 46.6

OV VO

2 88

2.2 97.8

total:

73

100.0

total:

90

100.0

While Modern Spanish remains a rigid VO language, the text frequency of the VS vs. SV orders has changed, revealing a marked drift toward SV. The following examples are taken from the lead article in a contemporary newspaper (El País, weekly international edition, February 2–8, 1999, pp. 1, 11, 12): (74) a. Clause-initial, main clause (SV) Arenas ofreció diálogo A. offered dialog ‘Arenas offered a dialog’ b. Object Rel-clause (VS) la initiativa que baraja el PSOE… the initiative that considered the PSOE ‘the initiative that the PSOE considered’ c. Fronted oblique (VS) entre estas novedades figura el ministro Josep Piqué among these novelties figures the minister J. P. ‘among these new ones one finds the minister Josep Piqué’ The two lone examples of pre-verbal objects (OV) found in the same text were:

276 Syntax

(75) a. La primera arremetida contra el PSOE la-concertó… the first attack against the PSOE it-set.up/3sg ‘He set up he first attack against the PSOE…’ b. Su ultimo aliento como un secretario general lo-empleó… his last breath as a secretary general it-employed/3sg ‘He took his last breath as secretary general…’ Both examples suggest the same pattern of contrastive object fronting noted in English (SVO) and Jacaltec (VSO), above. The frequency distribution of the VS/SV and OV/VO orders in the contemporary Spanish text is given in (76) below: (76) Frequency distribution of VS/SV and OV/VO orders in contemporary Spanish: subject

N

%

object

N

%

VS SV

20 56

26.3 73.7

OV VO

2 75

2.6 97.4

total:

76

100.0

total:

77

100.0

5.6.2.3
OV order with flexible subject position: Hixkaryana Hixkaryana (Carib) is a rigid OV language that was first described as having a rigid OVS order (Derbyshire 1981; Derbyshire and Pullum 1981). A subsequent text-based study by Derbyshire (1985) reveals a more complex situation, whereby OV is indeed a rigid order, but the subject position — SOV vs. OVS — is sensitive to discourse-pragmatic factors. Thus: (77) a. Intransitive, SV xofrye heno n-oseryehokekonu = sloth dead 3-be.upset/dp ‘poor old sloth was upset’ b. Intransitive, VS n-oseryehokekonu =, xofrye 3-be.upset/dp sloth ‘sloth was upset’ c. Transitive, SOV kurumyana komo, xofrye heno y-anotometxonu = vulture.kin coll sloth dead 3sg>3o-employ/imperf/dp ‘the volute people used to employ poor old sloth’ d. Transitive, OVS tkokemu = rma tu = y-onahyatxkonu = ha kurumyana rotten/nom cont hsy 3sg>3o-eat/coll/dp ints vulture.kin ‘the vulture people were eating the rotten thing’ The frequency distribution of the SV/VS and OV/VO orders in Hixkaryana narrative may be given in (78) below:

Word order

277

(78) Distribution of word-order variants in Hixkaryana (from Derbyshire 1985) subject

N

%

object

N

%

OV VO

98 9

91.5 8.5

107

100.0

VS SV

105 28

78.9 21.1

total:

133

100.0

total:

Derbyshire (1985) goes on to study the pragmatics of the SV/VS variation, showing a higher referential persistence (topicality) of pre-verbal (SV) subjects. 5.6.3

The pragmatics of word-order flexibility The communicative use of word-order, above and beyond grammaticalized GRs, is a vast topic that is beyond the scope of this chapter. The comments made below should be considered only preliminary. An early tradition, going back to the Prague School (Bolinger 1954; Halliday 1967; Firbas 1966, 1974; inter alia) had suggested that when word-order is used above and beyond the signaling of GRs, a universal tendency existed to place the topic or theme earlier in the clause and the focus or rheme later. Unfortunately, this tradition had never come up with a coherent definition of ‘topic’ or ‘theme’, nor had it submitted its assertions to quantitative empirical testing. Two distinct functional aspects of ‘topic’, when applied to nominal referents, may be extracted out of the traditional literature. One pertains to the predictability or accessibility of a referent; the other to its importance. Thus (Givón 1988): (79) a. Referential predictability Topical referents are old, known, predictable, accessible or presupposed information. b. Referential importance Topical referents are important or central information, about which the predication is given. Accessibility is an anaphoric property of referents, having to do with their availability in some pre-existing memory representation. Importance is a cataphoric property of referents, having to do with the requisite attention assigned to them for building up new memory representation (Gernsbacher 1990; Gernsbacher and Hargreaves 1988; Givón 1991e). In some grammatical constructions, these two traditional aspects of ‘topicality’ may coincide, but in others they are in conflict, often head-on conflict. For example, zero anaphora (80a) is used when the referent is maximally accessible, being the topical referent in the preceding clause. But zero by itself does not signal importance (cataphoric persistence) in subsequent discourse. So that a zero-coded referent near the beginning of the equi-topic chain may be highly persistent, but the one at the end non-persistent (see Ch. 10 as well as Vol. II, Chapter 18). Still, both may be marked by zero.

278

Syntax

L-dislocating a definite referent (80b) signals its importance (thus persistence) in subsequent discourse, as well as its accessibility in some older (episodic) memory. But it also signals that the referent was not activated in the preceding clause or clauses (working memory). Finally, placing a referring-indefinite referent in an existential-presentative clause signals importance (cataphoric persistence), but neither accessibility in episodic memory nor in working memory. (80) a. So Mary came in, [Ø] looked around, [Ø] found a seat, [Ø] walked over and [Ø] sat down. b. As for John, he wasn’t there but [Ø] showed up later and [Ø] joined them and before long he… c. There was a woman there who nobody could understand, even though she spoke perfectly serviceable English and [Ø] sounded quite intelligent, but still, she… For a while, a number of cross-language studies seemed to suggested that just the opposite of the Prague School claims was true. That is, if anything, fronted referents tended to be indefinite, thus new information (Meyer 1992; Mithun 1992; Payne 1992; Tomlin and Rhodes 1992). Subsequent analysis (Payne 1992; Givón 1988; Givón 1991e), however, suggested that it was not any indefinite NP that was fronted, but only important indefinites. A supporting piece of evidence involves the use of referent fronting in ‘marked’ topicalizing or contrastive constructions that seem to be attested in all languages, regardless of type and degree of word-order rigidity. The contrastive ones among these devices — Y-movement, cleft-focus — are also topicalizing in the sense of marking the referent more important or cataphorically persistent (see Vol. II, chs 15, 16). The convergence of all the evidence thus suggests that the pragmatic principle that controls word-order flexibility has more to do with the importance — cataphoric attentional activation — aspect of topicality (79b) than with accessibility in pre-existing memory (79a). Before closing the discussion, one more word-order variation needs to be considered. It involves the post-posing of subjects in otherwise strict SVO languages when a nonsubject is either topicalized, relativized or is placed in contrastive focus. As an illustration, consider the following examples from Dzamba (Bantu; Bokamba 1976): (81) a. Simple clause (SVO) oPoso a-tomaki i-mukanda Poso he-sent the-letter ‘Poso sent the letter’ b. L-dislocation (broken intonation; O, SV) i-mukanda, oPoso a-mu-tomaki the-letter Poso he-it-sent ‘The letter, Poso sent it’

Word order

279

c. Object topicalization/Y-movement (OVS) i-mukanda mu-tomaki oPoso the-metter it-sent Poso ‘the letter Poso sent (as against the book, which he didn’t)’ d. Object Rel-clause (VS) i-mukanda i-mu-tomaki oPoso… the-letter rel-it-sent Poso ‘the letter that Poso sent…’ e. Focused wh-question (VS) eembaka nde i-mu-tomaki oPoso thing what rel-it-sent Poso ‘What thing was it that Poso sent?’ The pragmatic motivation for subject post-posing in Dzamba and other SVO-ordered Bantu languages (Kihungan, Lunda-Ndembu) may not directly involve the topicality of the subject itself, but rather the topicalization, often contrastive, of some non-subject NP. There seems to be a constraint in such languages that allows only one pre-verbal NP per clause (under the same intonation contour). When a non-subject NP is topicalized by Y-movement, relativization or wh-question, the subject must be post-posed. A similar phenomenon can be found in Biblical Hebrew, Classical Arabic, Spanish and German.

5.7

So-called non-configurationality Beginning in the early 1980s, an attempt was made by a group of generative linguists (see in particular Hale 1980, 1982, 1983, 1992; Jelinek 1984; Payne 1993, inter alia) to suggest that somehow languages with flexible word-order possessed a special kind of syntactic deep-structure that was radically different from that of rigid-order languages, a so-called non-configurational structure. They claimed that in flexible-order languages, the subject and object were not ‘real’ independent syntactic constituents (‘nodes’), but rather were ‘indexed in the verb’. In order to support this assertion, two types of purported facts were first cited: anaphoric subject and object pronouns of so-called configurational •
Unstressed languages do have the status of independent constituents (‘nodes’). anaphoric subject and object pronouns of so-called non-configurational •
The languages were not independent syntactic constituents (‘nodes’), but rather either zero anaphors or verb-affixed pronouns or inflections. Both claims were founded upon a number of rather questionable interpretations of the empirical evidence. To begin with, many perfectly rigid-order languages have either zero anaphoric pronouns (Japanese, SOV; Chinese, SVO; Philippine, VSO) or verb-affixed pronouns (Athabaskan, SOV; Bantu, SVO; Mayan, Arawak, Nilotic, VSO). Second, the interpretation of anaphoric pronouns in English (SVO), French (SVO) or

280 Syntax

German (SVO/SOV) as independent constituent is based solely on the conservative written form of the language. A study of spontaneous spoken language, as used in natural communication, would have revealed that unstressed anaphoric subject and object pronouns in English, for example, are overwhelmingly verb-clitic (Croft 1997; Givón 1998). Perhaps the most curious aspect of the comparison was the stark contrast between the languages and genres compared: All the prototypical ‘non-configurational’ languages turned out to be the languages of oral, pre-literate, non-western societies. All the prototypical ‘configurational’ languages turned out to be spoken in literate, industrial Western societies — English, French, German. Put another way, the promulgators of ‘(non-)configurationality’ compared the data of oral performance with the data of written or intuited competence. The theoretical motivation for the entire enterprise is more interesting yet, springing as it does out of the early generative approach to grammatical relations (Chomsky 1957, 1965). Rather than recognize GRs as syntactic primes, the generative tradition insists, to this day, on ‘deriving’ them from PS-tree configurations, in which both Subj and Obj nodes were marked as just NPs. For example, for an SVO language such as English, the subject is ‘the NP directly dominated by an S node’, and the object ‘the NP directly dominated by a VP node’, as in: (82)

S NP [Subj]

VP

Mary

V

NP [Obj]

saw

John

This configurational definition of GRs would also work well for SOV, VOS and OVS languages, as in: (83)

S

NP [Subj]

Mary

S VP

VP

S NP [Subj]

NP [Obj]

V

V

NP [Obj]

John

saw

saw

John

Mary

VP

NP [Subj]

NP [Obj]

V

John

saw

Mary

But rigid VSO languages (Mayan, Austronesian, Nilotic, Salish, Arawak) present a vexing problem, due to the apparent non-adjacency of the verb and object:

Word order

281

(84)

S VP

NP [Subj]

V NP [Obj] saw

Mary

John

Flexible-order languages seem to exacerbate the problem of the VSO order, by displaying many text instances of non-adjacency of verb and object in the VP, as well as nonadjacency between of head nouns and modifiers in the NP. Somehow labeling such languages ‘non-configurational’ was meant to ‘solve’ this problem, which is wholly selfinduced by the peculiarities of the formalism itself (see Ch. 3, §3.2.2). The non-adjacency of constituents governed by the same higher node is of course a well-known problem in natural communication, since it violates one of the most general iconicity principles of syntax; it is attested in one way or another in all human languages (Haiman 1985a,b; Bybee 1985; Givón 1985a, 1991a): (85) The adjacency principle “Items that are closer functionally or cognitively tend to be placed closer in the linguistic code”. Principle (85) predicts constituent adjacency in both syntax and morphology — in the main. But like many general principles interacting in a complex system, it is seldom absolute. And the exceptions to it represent, most commonly, cases of conflict between equally valid general principles. What is more, exceptions to principle (85) are not limited to flexible-order languages, a point that will be illustrate with three examples. In the ‘super-configurational’ English, extraposed restrictive Rel-clauses are a staple of both the spoken and written register (see Vol. II, Ch. 14). Thus compare: (86) a. Extraposed Rel-clause A guy came by yesterday who spoke no English, and… b. Adjacent Rel-clause A guy who spoke no English came by yesterday and… c. Adjacent Rel-clause She went to see a movie she liked with a friend d. Adjacent Rel-clause, no extraposition allowed She went to see a movie with a friend she liked … she liked the friend … / she liked the movie e. Adjacent Rel-clause She went to a restaurant she owned with a friend f.

No extraposition allowed ?She went to a restaurant with a friend she owned

282

Syntax

The main conflict here is between the adjacency of either the head and modifier in the NP, the subject and predicate in the main clause, or the verb and object in the VP. In (86a), the subject NP is scattered but the main-clause subject and predicate are adjacent. In (86b), the reverse. In (86c), the head and modifier in the object NP are adjacent, but the indirect object is scattered from the rest of the VP. In (86d), due to potential semantic ambiguity, the extraposed interpretation is barred, and all three constituents — S-Pred, V-Obj, N-Mod — are adjacent. In (86e) once again N-Mod adjacency in the NP overrides adjacency of the VP. Finally, (86f) is barred not because of semantic ambiguity, but rather semantic incompatibility: The adjacent-NP interpretation of ‘a friend she owned’ somehow overrides the semantically-compatible extraposed interpretation. Consider next the interaction between the adjacency principle (85) and another wellknow syntactic device for indicating constituents that ‘belong together’ — the morphological binding of predicates to their subjects and modifiers to their head nouns by (pronominal) agreement (see Ch. 9). In Walpiri, a flexible-order ‘non-configurational’ language, when a modifier is adjacent to the head noun, case-agreement between the head and modifier is optional. When the head noun and modifier are non-adjacent (scattered), case agreement becomes obligatory (Hale 1980; Austin and Bresnan 1996): (87) a. Scattered subject NP, obligatory Erg-case agreement kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi wita-rlu child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast small-erg ‘the small child chased the dog’ b. Scattered object NP, obligatory Abs-case agreement kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi wita child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast small/abs ‘the child chased the small dog’ *‘the small child chased the dog’ c. Adjacent subject NP, optional Erg-case agreement wita kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi small child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast ‘the small child chased the dog’ *‘the child chased the small dog’ What we see here is an interaction between two ways of signaling the noun-modifier relation, i.e. NP constituency — by adjacency (principle (85)), or by morphological binding, (case and/or gender/number agreement). Both principles are universal, but they can play against each other, so that when one is violated, the other becomes obligatory. Re-consider finally the data of contrastive object topicalization, relativization and focusing in Dzamba (Bantu), an otherwise strict SVO language with both subject and object pronouns marked as verb-prefixes (Bokamba 1976):

Word order

283

(88) a. Simple clause (SVO) oPoso a-tomaki i-mukanda Poso he-sent the-letter ‘Poso sent the letter’ b. L-dislocation (O, SV) i-mukanda, oPoso a-mu-tomaki the-letter Poso he-it-sent ‘The letter, Poso sent it’ c. Object topicalization/Y-movement (OVS) i-mukanda mu-tomaki oPoso the-letter it-sent Poso ‘the letter Poso sent (as against the book, which he didn’t)’ d. Object Rel-clause (VS) i-mukanda i-mu-tomaki oPoso… the-letter rel-it-sent Poso ‘the letter that Poso sent…’ e. Focused wh-question (VS) eembaka nde i-mu-tomaki oPoso thing what rel-it-sent Poso ‘What thing was it that Poso sent?’ In the L-dislocated clause (88b), the adjacency of the VP is violated, in order to accommodate another universal principle, that of fronting a topicalized referent. But the nonadjacency of the object is compensated in the Bantu verb morphology, with the object pronoun on the verb replicating the noun prefix. In (88c–e) topicalization of the object, by whatever means, forces subject post-posing, including loss of the otherwise-obligatory subject agreement on the verb. The pragmatic word-order principle of ‘one topical NP per clause’ is obeyed, as well as the morphological binding of the VP. But the de-topicalized subject loses its morphological binding to the predicate. One should note, in passing, that none of the studies purporting to describe (non-)configurationality have ever supported their claims with comparative frequencies of adjacent vs. non-adjacent VPs and NPs in ‘configurational’ vs. ‘non-configurational’ languages — in texts from any genre. In contrast, two studies of frequency of nonadjacency of VPs (V-Obj) and NPs (Head-Mod) comparing spoken English and a spoken ‘non-configurational’ language (Wardaman, Croft 1997; Ute, Givón 1999) have shown a considerable frequency of non-adjacency in both the NP and VP of spoken English, a frequency roughly comparable to that found in the comparison ‘non-configurational’ language. More recent studies of ‘(non-)configurationality’ (Baker 1991; Jelinek and Demers 1994; Austin and Bresnan 1996; Nordlinger 1998; Kiss 1995; inter alia) have rejected some of the hastily-claimed typological correlations of the early ‘configurationality’ literature. Still, to this date these studies have cited no comparative text frequency data of any kind. So that their findings remained rooted in selective examples of ‘competence’.

284 Syntax

Notes 1. Currently one can say ‘he goes dear-hunting in the fall’ or ‘in the summer she does a lot of fruitcanning’. But one can easily foresee further generalization to, respectively, ‘he deer-hunts every fall’, ‘in the summer she fruit-cans a lot’. 2. As suggested in Givón (1971a), the real culprit here was the abstract formal principle of x-bar. That is, the assumption — as far as I can tell apriori and with scant empirical justification — that languages treat the verb–object configuration in the VP as somehow analogous to the noun-modifier configuration in the VP, with the verb and the noun being, in some abstract sense, the heads of their respective constructions.



Chapter 6

Tense, aspect and modality
I Functional organization

6.1

Introduction In this chapter we deal with the functional organization of one the most complex subsystems in grammar, tense, aspect and modality (henceforth TAM). As noted in Ch. 2, above, TAM as a morphological system is most likely to grammaticalize on the verbal word, where it interacts, often intensively, with several other verb-inflectional sub-systems: markers (Ch. 8); •
negation
pronominal agreement (Ch. 9); •
speech-acts markers (Vol. II, Ch. 17); •
cross-clausal connectives (Vol. II, Ch. 18). • Like other obligatory components of the simple clause — case-marking, pronouns, determiners — TAM systems illustrate the paradoxical status of much of grammar: While the morphology itself is part of clausal structure, its functional scope is not the propositional semantics of the atomic event or state, but rather the pragmatics, or connectivity, of the clause vis-a-vis its discourse context. Our discussion of TAM will be split into two chapters. In this chapter, we deal with the universal functional domains of tense, aspect and modality. In Chapter 7, we deal with the cross-linguistic typology of TAM systems, as well as with their interaction with other grammatical sub-systems.

6.2

Tense The category tense involves the systematic coding of the relation between two points along the ordered linear dimension of time: time; •
reference
event time. • The unmarked (‘default’) temporal reference point vis-a-vis which event/state clauses are anchored is the time of speech. Temporal anchoring to this default reference point is called absolute tense.

286 Syntax

It is easy to see that tense is fundamentally a pragmatic — rather than propositionalsemantic — phenomenon, anchoring the proposition to a temporal point outside itself. In the case of absolute tense, the clause, as it is uttered, is anchored to the current speech-act, performed by a particular speaker at the very time the clause is uttered. Temporal anchoring, in this case absolute tense, may be represented diagrammatically as: (1) Tense and temporal anchoring Event-time: past

present

future

speech-time reference time

Given diagram (1), one may distinguish three major tense divisions, plus a fourth whose status is a bit murky: (2) Major tense divisions a. Past: An event (or state) whose event-time preceded the time of speech b. Future: An event (or state) whose event-time follows the time of speech c. Present: An event (or state) whose event-time is right at the time of speech d. Habitual: An event (or state) that either occurs always or repeatedly, or whose event-time is left unspecified. Examples from English are: (3) a. b. c. d.

Past: Future: Present: Habitual:

She watched the whale She will watch the whale She is watching the whale She always watches whales

As suggested above, the status of the habitual (2d)/(3d) is indeed murky. Habitual expressions are not about any particular event, thus not about any particular event-time, thus lacking a crucial ingredient of tense. There are indeed grounds for treating the habitual as a sub-category of the imperfective aspect, whereby, like other imperfectives, it can intersect with various tenses (see §
6.3.2 below). Further, the habitual also has a healthy interaction with the irrealis modality (see §
6.4.3.4 below). So that individual languages may lump it together as either a sub-category of the imperfective or of irrealis (see Ch. 7). In addition to absolute tense, above, a language can also take the very same tense divisions (‘present’, ‘past’, ‘future’) and anchor them to a temporal reference-point preceding (past) or following (future) the time of speech. This is called relative tense, a

Tense, aspect and modality
I

phenomenon more conspicuous in English aspects (see below). Finally, a language may also have sub-divisions of tense, such as remote vs. recent past or immediate vs. distant future. The discussion of those will deferred to Chapter 7.

6.3

Aspect In this section we deal with three aspectual contrasts: perfective vs. imperfective; •
perfectivity:
sequentiality or relevance: perfective vs. perfect; •
immediacy: remote vs. vivid. •

6.3.1

Perfectivity: boundedness and duration The aspectual dimension of perfectivity involves two features that most often coincide, but can also be dissociated: boundaries: sharp vs. diffuse; •
temporal
duration: short vs. long. • These two features can be already observed in the inherent aspectuality of lexical verbs (or predicates). Since such inherent aspectuality is a useful tool for understanding the behavior of grammatical aspects, we will deal with it first. A sketchy reference to inherent aspect was made in Chapter 2, in our discussion of the time-stability scale. 6.3.1.1
Inherent perfectivity of verbs (‘Akzionart’) Perfectivity is to begin with, above and beyond grammatical aspect, an inherent property of all lexical verbs (or predicates). What is more, one cannot fully understand what grammatical aspect does to verbs without understanding first their inherent aspectuality. The verbs (or predicates) in the lexicon of all languages can be divided into four major groups in terms of their inherent aspectuality: (short duration) verbs: At one extreme of the perfectivity scale one •
Compact finds verbs that depict temporally compact events of extremely short duration.

• •

Events coded by such verbs are also sharply bounded at both ends — inception and termination.
Accomplishment (completion) verbs: Verbs in this group code the accomplishment or completion of an event. The event itself may be of longer duration than in the case of compact verbs. But the communicative perspective here is on the event’s sharp terminal boundary — unless duration is brought into focus by the use of a specific grammatical aspect.
Activity (process) verbs: The bulk of the verbs in the lexicon of most languages seem to depict activity or process events. The event coded by such verbs may be of considerable duration, but its duration is not the focus of the communicative per-

287

288 Syntax

•

spective — unless the verb is marked by a specific grammatical aspect (durative). Likewise, the coded event may in fact have sharp initial and terminal boundaries. But the boundaries are not focused on — unless the verb is marked with a specific grammatical aspect (perfective or perfect).
Stative verbs: Finally, at the other extreme of the perfectivity scale, one finds stative verbs or adjectives, depicting states of relatively long duration whose initial and terminal boundaries are not focused on — unless the verb is marked by a specific grammatical aspect (perfective or perfect).

Typical examples of verbs in the four groups are: (4) a. Compact short-duration verbs spit, blink, cough, shoot, kick, snap, jump, hit, slap b. Accomplishment-completion verbs arrive/come, leave/go, finish, accomplish/succeed, obtain/get, fall, die, be born, sit down, stand up c. Activity-process verbs shorter: break, smash, bend, twist, step longer: walk, work, read, dance d. Stative verbs temporary: be sad, be happy, be angry, be hot, be cold know, want, believe, have, be there, be sitting, be lying down, be standing long-lasting: be tall, be big, be red, be female, be furry As one can see, at the two extreme ends of the perfectivity scale, boundedness and duration can be strongly associated: Compact verbs (4a) have sharp boundaries and short duration. Stative verbs (4d) have long duration but no boundaries. Accomplishment verbs (4b), on the other hand, may have both duration and a sharp terminal boundary — though the duration is usually not in focus. Likewise, activity/process verbs (4c) may have both, but their communicative perspective focus depends on the choice of grammatical aspect. The best way to observe the inherent aspectuality of verbs is to combine them with various grammatical aspects. Unlike inherent aspect, grammatical aspect is the adding of communicative perspective to states or events above and beyond their inherent aspectuality. 6.3.2 Perfective vs. imperfective The grammar of perfectivity involves, primarily, the binary distinction between the perfective and imperfective aspects: focus on termination and boundedness; •
perfective: •
perspective
strong association with the past tense; • •
imperfective: •
perspective focus away from termination and boundedness. The metaphor of photographic lenses, through which the event is viewed as an object, is most useful for explaining the contrast between the communicative perspective of the

Tense, aspect and modality
I

perfective and imperfective aspects. Like a zoom lense, grammatical aspects can impose varying perspectives on the very same event. Using the perfective aspect is akin to observing an event from far away, thus through a narrow-angle zoom lens. The event is so far that it appears small, compact and wellbounded. (5) Perfective lens focus

point of view

Using the imperfective aspect is akin to observing the event from nearby, through a wideangle (‘fish-eye’) lens. The event is so near that its boundaries are outside the lens’s field of vision. All one can see is a continuous unbounded stretch. (6) Imperfective lens focus

point of view

The imperfective category is often sub-divided into two main divisions: ongoing process; •
progressive-durative-continuous:
habitual-repetitive: repeated events. • By using a grammatical imperfective aspect, a lexically-inherent event can be converted into a state — in perspective. Conversely, by using a grammatical perfective aspect, a lexicallyinherent state can be converted into an event — in perspective. But the specific impact of grammatical perfective and imperfective aspects depends on the inherent perfectivity of the lexical verb. Compact verbs appear much more commonly in discourse in the perfective aspect. When combined with an imperfective, a rare occurence in discourse, they tend to yield a repetitive sense. This aspectual contrast can be obtained, at least in principle, in various tenses:

289

290 Syntax

(7) a. Past-perfective: b. Past-progressive: c. Past-habitual: d. Present-progressive: e. Habitual:

He shot the gun (> one shot) He was shooting the gun (> repeated shots) He used to shoot the gun (> repeated shots) He is shooting the gun (> repeated shots) He always shoots the gun (> repeated shots)

Spanish has two grammaticalized imperfectives in the past, the so-called imperfect and the progressive, both contrasting with the perfective preterit. When a compact verb is marked with either — the uncommon, marked perspective for such verbs — it yields either a repetitive or habitual interpretation: (8) a. Preterit-past:

b. Imperfect-past:

c. Progressive-past:

lo-tiró 3sg/obj-shot/pret/3sg ‘s/he shot it’ (once) lo-tiraba 3sg/obj-shoot/imperf/3sg Ï
‘s/he shot it repeatedly’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘s/he used to shoot it’ (several times) ˛ lo-estaba tirando it-be/imperf/3sg shoot/part ‘s/he was shooting it’ (several times)

When an accomplishment verb is combined with the imperfective aspect — again lesscommon combination — whatever duration that is imparted to the event does not apply to the sharp terminal boundary, but rather to the preceding process leading to that terminal boundary: (9) a. Past-perfective: b. Past-progressive: c. Past habitual: d. Present-progressive: e. Habitual:

She left the house (> she was there, then gone) She was leaving the house (> ongoing process before leaving) She used to leave the house (> repeated) She is leaving the house (> ongoing process before leaving) She always leaves the house (> repeated)

In Spanish, the two imperfective-past aspects yield different effects with accomplishment verbs. Combined with the imperfect, only a habitual-repetitive interpretation is possible.

Tense, aspect and modality
I

291

The progressive, on the other hand, imparts a sense of duration — of the process preceding the terminal boundary (as it does in English, see (9) above). Thus: (10) a. Preterit-past:

b. Imperfect-past:

c. Progressive-past:

llegó a la case arrive/pret/3sg loc the house ‘s/he arrived at the house’ llegaba a la case arrive/imperf/3sg loc the house ‘s/he used to arrive at the house’ ‘she repeatedly arrived at the house’ *‘she was arriving at the house’ estaba llegando a la casa be/imperf/3sg arrive/part loc the house ‘s/he was arriving at the house’

When an activity/process verb is marked with a grammatical imperfective aspect, it yields a state, either ongoing or habitual-repetitive: (11) a. Past-perfective: b. Past-progressive: c. Past-habitual: d. Present-progressive: e. Habitual:

She read the book (> and finished) She was reading the book (> ongoing) She used to read the book (> ongoing or repeated) She is reading the book (> ongoing) She reads the book (> ongoing or repeated)

In Spanish, combining activity/process verbs with either imperfective aspect yields either a habitual-repetitive or a progressive interpretation: (12) a. Preterit-past:

b. Imperfect-past:

c. Progressive-past:

lo-leó 3sg/obj-read/pret/3sg ‘s/he read it’ (and finished) lo-leía 3sg/obj-read/imperf/3sg Ï
‘s/he used to read it’ (different times) Ì
‘s/he kept reading it’ (one stretch) Ó lo-estaba leyendo it-be/imperf/3sg read/part ‘s/he was reading it’ (one stretch)

¸ ˝ ˛

Finally, stative verbs (or adjectives) tend to reject the perfective interpretation of the English past tense, automatically taking an imperfective interpretation. They also reject the progressive aspect, presumably because their perspective is already focused on the ongoing state:

292 Syntax

(13) a. Past (*perfective):

b. *Progressive-past: c. Habitual-past:

d. *Progressive present: e. Habitual:

He knew John well (> ongoing state) (*He came to know John well) John was tall (> long-lasting state) (*John became tall) *He was knowing John well *He was being tall He used to know John well (> habitual state) He used to be tall (> long-lasting state) *He is knowing John well *He is being tall He knows John well (> habitual state) He is tall (> long-lasting state)

In Spanish, a similar interaction takes place, but with somewhat different results, due to the availability of an extra imperfective aspect in the past. Stative verbs retain their inherent aspectuality in the imperfect, which is their most common, unmarked aspect in the past. On the few occasions when they are used in the preterit, they change their meaning to related non-stative senses — a different verb in English translation. And, just as in English, they cannot take the progressive aspect, neither in the past nor in the present: (14) a. Preterit:

b. Imperfective-past:

c. *Progressive-past: d. *Progressive-pres.:

Conoció (*bien) a Juan met/imperf/3sg (*well) obj John ‘s/he met John (*well)’ Conocía bien a Juan know/imperf/3sg well obj John ‘He knew John well’ *estaba conociendo (bien) a Juan be/imperf/3sg know/part (well) obj John *está conociendo (bien) a Juan be/prog/3sg know/part (well) obj John

The ‘change of meaning’ observed in many inherently-stative verbs in Spanish when they are combined with the preterit grammatical aspect is fairly systematic, as can be seen in (15) below. It does not only suggest an interaction between inherent-lexical and grammatical aspect, but also demonstrates a general typological phenomenon — that what one language codes lexically, another language may code grammatically.

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(15) Lexical vs. grammatical perfectivity in Spanish

6.3.3

verb

imperfect

preterit

conocer saber querer creer parecer gustar(se)

‘know’ ‘know’ ‘want’ ‘believe’ ‘be apparent’ ‘like’

‘meet’, ‘get to know’ ‘learn’, discover’, ‘find out’ ‘conceive a wish’ ‘come to believe’ ‘become apparent’ ‘get to like’

The perfect The perfect is functionally the most complex and most subtle grammatical aspect. It involves four features whose clustering in the same form is natural and fairly common but by no means universal. In particular languages, one finds various features of the perfect detached from each other and lumped with other tense-aspects, such as the past, recent past, immediate/ vivid or present progressive. The four features of the perfect are:

•
anteriority; •
perfectivity; •
counter-sequentiality; •
lingering relevance. They are best described by contrasting the perfect with the perfective-past (preterit), with which it shares some features. We will use the English perfect, in which the four features indeed coincide, as an illustration. 6.3.3.1
Anteriority The perfect aspect bears a strong but not absolute similarity to the past tense. In both, the event’s or state’s initiation point precedes the temporal reference point. The association is not absolute, however. While the past has only one (‘absolute’) reference point, the time of speech, the perfect can assume all three main temporal reference points: of speech (‘present perfect’); •
time
prior to time of speech (‘past perfect’); •
following time of speech (‘future perfect’). • With respect to whatever reference point, the perfect codes an event that either occurred, or at the very least was initiated, prior to the temporal reference point. Thus consider: (16) a. Present perfect (As I am speaking now,) She has (already) eaten b. Past perfect (When he arrived,) She had (already) eaten c. Future perfect (When he arrives,) She will have (already) eaten

294 Syntax

These three temporal configurations may be represented diagrammatically as, respectively: (17) Present perfect

event time

reference time

time of speech

(18) Past perfect

event time

reference time

time of speech

(19) Future perfect

time of speech

event time

reference time

6.3.3.2
Completion and terminal boundary Quite often, the perfect also shares with the perfective past the feature of completion or accomplishment — thus terminal boundary — prior to reference time. As an illustration, consider the following exchanges: (20) A: –Why don’t you go and wash your hands? B: –I’ve already washed them. A: –Are you hungry? B: –No, I’ve already eaten. However, the terminal boundary associated with the perfect can, under some conditions, be moved near to — or even up to — the reference time. The presence vs. absence of completion prior to reference time can often be predicted from the inherent perfectivity of the verb. Thus compare: (21) a. She’s finally shot him (> terminal boundary) b. They’ve just arrived (> terminal boundary) c. She’s written that book long ago (> terminal boundary) d. I’ve known her for ages (> and still do; no terminal boundary) e. He’s been here all day (> and still is; no terminal boundary) f. She’s been tall ever since she was 8 (> and still is; no terminal boundary)

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While a terminal boundary, and a temporal gap between it and reference time, is possible with compact verbs (21a), accomplishment verbs (21b), and activity verbs (21c), stative verbs (21d–f) allow neither. 6.3.3.3
Counter-sequentiality A feature of the perfect that is seldom noticed, unless one studies the use and distribution of this aspect in connected discourse, involves the contrast between an event recounted in its natural temporal order, and an event presented out of sequence. The grammatical contrast here is between the unmarked, more frequent past-perfective (preterit), used to present events in their natural sequence, and the much less frequent perfect or pluperfect (pastperfect), used to code out-of-sequence events. As illustration, compare (22) and (23) below: (22) Past-perfective a. She came back into the room, b. looked around, c. spotted the buffet d. and went to get a sandwich…. (23) Past-perfect a. She came back into the room b. and looked around. c. She had (already) spotted the buffet beforehand. d. So she went to get a sandwich… In narrative (22), the events are all recounted in the order in which they occurred, with all verbal clauses marked with the past-perfective. In narrative (23), the very same chain of events is described. However, event (23c) is now out-of-sequence, recounted after (23b) though in reality it occurred before it. The verb in (23c) — the out-of-sequence link in the temporal chain — is marked with the perfect aspect. What is more, the off-sequence placement of (23c) precipitates a thematic break in the discourse, signalled by a period punctuation in both (23b) and (23c). The difference between the in-sequence (perfective) and out-of-sequence (perfect) aspect may be given diagrammatically as: (24) a. Order of events …A,B,C,D… b. Order of narration in the perfective-past …A,B,C,D… c. Order of narration with the perfect …A,C,B,D… Chunks of off-sequence narrative can encompass more than one event-clause. When that occurs, the off-sequence events may be themselves recounted in the natural sequential order. As a chunk, they remain off-sequence vis-a-vis the preceding in-sequence events. As an illustration of this, consider the following passage of narrative fiction:1

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296 Syntax

(25) “…He circled it wearily as a wolf, studying it from all angles, and when finally he stopped within a dozen feet of the dead man, he knew much of what had happened at this place. The dead man had ridden a freshly shod horse into the playa from the north, and when shot he had tumbled from the saddle and the horse had galloped away. Several riders on unshod ponies had then approached the body and one had dismounted to collect the weapons…” In the second paragraph in (25), the main sequence of events — an elaboration of the preceding perfect-marked “what had happened” — is recounted in the natural sequence in which they occur. Since taken together they are off-sequence vis-a-vis the events in the preceding paragraph, they are marked with the perfect. 6.3.3.4
Deferred (‘lingering’) relevance A major pragmatic feature associated with the perfect has to do with the judgement of when the information in the perfect-marked clause is relevant. Here again it is most instructive to first contrast the perfect with the perfective, both in the past: (26) a. Perfective She came in and ate dinner. b. Perfect She came in. She had already eaten dinner. When marked with the more common perfective (26a), the event is construed as relevant at the time when it occurred, i.e. event time. By marking an event with the less-common perfect (26b), one shifts the time when the event is relevant to some subsequent reference time. Indeed, the reason the perfect-marked event is presented off-sequence, i.e. later that the time it actually occurred, is no doubt because it was deemed more relevant at that subsequent time than at the time when it occurred. This is presumably why the off-sequence and deferred relevance features of the perfect are so strongly associated. The contrast between the perfective-past (26a) and the perfect-past (26b) may be given diagrammatically in (27) and (28) below, respectively: (27) Perfective past

relevance time

event time

time of speech

(28) Perfect-past

event time

relevance time

time of speech

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The temporal reference point to which the perfect-marked event is relevant may also be fixed in the present or future: (29) a. Present perfect She is coming in. She has already eaten. b. Future perfect When she gets there, she will have already eaten. The relevance contrast between the perfective-past and the present-perfect can on occasion be rather subtle. Compare, for example: (30) a. He wrote seven books before he died b. He has written seven books (> He is still alive) c. *He has written seven books before he died The use of the present-perfect in (30b) strongly implies that the writer is still alive at the time of speech, which is the temporal reference point for the lingering relevance of the perfect-marked event; hence the infelicity of (30c). The configuration of speech-time, event-time and relevance-time in (29a,b) are given diagrammatically in (31) and (32) below. Respectively: (31) Present-perfect perspective

(32) Future perfect perspective

time of speech

event time

relevance time

The similarities and differences between the perfective (past) and perfect are summarized in (33) below. (33) feature anteriority absolute ref. perfectivity termination lingering relevance sequentiality

past

perfect

+ + + + − +

+ − + +/− + −

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6.3.4 The immediate aspect: Remote vs. vivid In many languages, a subtle aspectual contrast can be made, in otherwise perfective-coded narrative of past events, between a remote vs. vivid perspective on the event or sequence of events. This distinction is reminiscent of the contrast between perfective (narrow lens-angle) and imperfective (wide lens-angle). However, since the past-perfective can be further marked as either remote or vivid, we are clearly dealing here with a more subtle further elaboration of perspective. The remote vs. vivid distinction can be seen in English in the contrast between the past and the simple — normally habitual — form of the verb, when used in past-tense narrative, the so-called ‘historical present’. In both spoken and written English, the use of this form of past-perfective renders the events more immediate and vivid, as if one is somehow present on the scene and thus emotionally more engaged. As an illustration of this contrast, compare the same ‘objective’ piece of narrative rendered in both aspects: (34) a. Remote …So I gave him his instructions, and I told him to go ahead and do it. And he said he would. Y’know, I really trusted the guy, I had known him for a long time. Plus, he was taking notes all along. So I figured… Well, what the heck… b. Vivid …So I give him his instructions, and I tell him I say go ahead and do it. And he says he will. Hey, I really trust the guy, I’ve known him for such a long time. Plus he’s taking notes and all. So I figure… oh, what the heck… There is a partial overlap between the aspectual contrast vivid vs. remote and the genre contrast oral vs. written discourse. The vivid aspect is no doubt used much more frequently in oral narrative, and perhaps more commonly grammaticalized in pre-literate cultures. But literary usage has borrowed the contrast, to the point where whole stories, essays and novels may be written in the immediate aspect. As an example of a highly literary usage, consider the following passage from a short story (Barthelme 1981): (35) “…His gifts this morning include two white jade tigers, at full scale, carved by the artist Lieh Yi, and the Emperor himself takes brush in hand to paint their eyes with dark lacquer; responsible officials have suggested that six thousand terra-cotta soldiers and two thousand terra-cotta horses, all full scale, be buried, for the defense of his tomb; the Emperor in his rage orders that three thousand convicts cut down all the trees on Mt. Hsiang, leaving it bare, bald, so that responsible officials may understand what is possible; the Emperor commands the court poets to write poems about immortals, pure beings, and noble spirits who by their own labor change night to day, and these sung to him; everyone knows that executions should not be carried out in the spring, even a child knows it, but in certain cases…”

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The first line of narrative (35) also exhibits a common associated feature of the vivid aspect: When used under its scope, grammatical deictic markers that anchor a referent vis-a-vis either the speaker’s location or time of speech (see Chapter 10), tend to use the proximate marker — ‘this’ rather than ‘that’, ‘here’ rather than ‘there’, ‘now’ rather than ‘then’. As illustration of the use of the vivid aspect in a more colloquial written genre, consider the following example of direct-quoted uneducated speech, with the remote and vivid alternating in the very same passage:2 (36) “…See, what happened… This’s at the time I’m getting ‘Freaks’ ready for production. I’ve got a script, but it needs work, get rid of some of the more expensive special effects. So I go see my writer and we discuss revisions. Murray’s good, he’s been with me, he wrote all my ‘Grotesque’ pictures, some of the others. He’s done I don’t know how many TV scripts, hundreds. He’s done sitcoms, westerns, sci-fi, did a few ‘Twilight Zone’s… Only now he can’t get any TV work ‘cause he’s around my age and the networks don’t like to hire any writers over forty. Murray has kind of a drinking problem, too, that doesn’t help. Likes the sauce, smokes four packs a day… We’re talking — get back to what I want to tell you — he happens to mention a script he wrote years ago when he was starting out and never sold. I ask him what it’s about. He tells me. It sounds pretty good, so I take the script home and read it.” Harry paused. “I read it again, just to be sure. My experience, my instinct, my gut, tells me I have a property here, that with the right actor in the starring role, I can take to any studio in town and practically write my own deal. This one, I know, is gonna take on heat fast. The next day I call Murray, tell him I’m willing to option the script…” In addition to the use of the proximate ‘this’ (vs. ‘that’), one also finds in this passage the use of the proximate ‘now’ (rather than ‘then’). Another feature of the informal, colloquial, less-educated speech-style is also found here: The off-sequence perfect aspect is now split; the present-perfect (‘has done’) codes minor off-sequence digressions — from the strict temporal sequence but not from the central thematic line of the narrative. While the perfective-past (‘wrote’, ‘sold’, ‘was’) replaces the past-perfect in marking digressions that go back to much earlier times and events. This includes the opening line ‘See what happened’ that is by definition off-sequence,3 as well as the digression back to the author’s voice (‘Harry paused’). One consequence of our metaphor of narrow vs. wide camera-angle, shared by the imperfective and immediate aspects, is of particular interest. In the visual construction of space, a wide lens-angle represents either a large or a near-by object. From the imperfectiveaspect perspective, an on-going event is scrutinized from near by, with all gory detail visible. It is as if the observers is placed right at the scene. In contrast, from a bounded, perfective, narrow-angle perspective the event is viewed from a remote vantage point. The observer is removed from the scene and its minute details. The similarity in perspective between the imperfective and immediate aspects can actually lead to joint grammaticalization of the two. Thus in Ute (Uto-Aztecan; see Ch. 7,

299

300 Syntax

§
7.8), the very same suffix codes three tense-aspects:

•present-progressive; •present-perfect; •vivid-past. The common denominator between the three ought to be obvious — here and now. The present-progressive codes events actually occurring right now. The present-perfect codes events that may have occurred earlier but are relevant right now. The vivid past codes events in the past as-if they are occurring right now.

6.4

Modality and mood

6.4.1

Preamble: Propositional modalities The propositional modality associated with a clause may be likened to a shell that encases it but does not tamper with the kernel inside. The propositional frame of clause — semantic and grammatical roles, predication type and transitivity — as well as the actual lexical items that fill the various slots in the frame, remain largely unaffected by the modality wrapped around the proposition. Rather, the modality codes the speaker’s attitude toward the proposition. By attitude one means here primarily two types of judgement made by the speaker concerning the propositional information carried in the clause: judgement: truth, probability, certainty, belief, evidence. •Epistemic Evaluative (‘deontic’) judgement: desirability, preference, intent, ability, obligation, • manipulation. These two sub-modalities are not always mutually exclusive, and indeed intersect in highly specific ways (see below).4 As a simple-minded illustration of how changes in modality leave the propositional frame relatively unaffected, consider: (37) a. b. c. d. e. f. g.

Darla shot the tiger It’s too bad that Darla shot the tiger If Darla shoots the tiger, … Darla didn’t shoot the tiger He told Darla that she should shoot the tiger Shoot the tiger, Darla! Did Darla shoot the tiger?

In (37a–g), the event clause is encased in a different modal envelope each time. But the propositional kernel identifying ‘Darla’ as the subject-agent, ‘the tiger’ as the objectpatient, and ‘shoot’ as the transitive event, is left relatively untampered throughout. Both the epistemic and evaluative/deontic sub-modalities admit, at least in principle, shading and gradation, within as well as across category (Palmer 1979, 1986; Coates 1983; Ransom 1986). But the range of grammar-coded modalities in any specific language is a limited sub-set of the universally-possible set (see Ch. 7, §
7.9). What is more, at least in one

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major area, that of the irrealis modality, the epistemic and evaluative modes overlap to quite an extent and often share their grammatical coding. 6.4.2 Epistemic modalities Four propositional modalities display the strongest functional and grammatical consequences in human language. While the definition of the epistemic modalities used in natural language is more appropriately given in terms of their cognitive and/or communicative functions, one may as well acknowledge the long logical tradition that passed these modal categories on to us, a tradition going all the way back to — at least — Aristotle. This tradition, with its near-exclusive preoccupation with the epistemic aspects of modality, has indeed run its natural course. But it did manage to come up with modal notions that bear close resemblance to our communicatively-defined modalities. The four traditional epistemic modalities are (Aristotle, see Ackrill 1963; Carnap 1947): (38) Epistemic modalities logical tradition

communicative equivalent

a.
necessary truth b.
factual truth c.
possible truth d.
non-truth

presupposition realis assertion irrealis assertion negative assertion

The logical tradition treated modality as a property of propositions detached from their communicative context, although later exponents conceded it to be pragmatic rather than semantic (Montague 1970). The communicative-pragmatic interpretation of the four modalities, on the other hand, recasts them in terms of the epistemic states and communicative goals of the two participants in the communicative transaction — speaker and hearer. This approach in linguistics owes a certain historical debt to several post-Wittgensteinean philosophers, such as Austin (1962), Searle (1969) and Grice (1968/1975). The present reformulation follows Givón (1982b, 1989, 1994, 1995): (39) The communicative re-definition of epistemic modality a. Presupposition The proposition is taken for granted to be true, either by definition, prior agreement, generic culturally-shared convention, by being obvious to all present at the speech situation, or by having been uttered by the speaker and left unchallenged by the hearer. b. Realis assertion The proposition is strongly asserted to be true. But challenge from the hearer is deemed appropriate, although the speaker has evidence or other strong grounds for defending their strong belief.

302 Syntax

c. Irrealis assertion The proposition is weakly asserted to be either possible, likely or uncertain (epistemic sub-modes), or necessary, desired or undesired (valuative-deontic sub-modes). But the speaker is not ready to back up the assertion with evidence or other strong grounds; and challenge from the hearer is readily entertained, expected or even solicited. d. Negative assertion The proposition is strongly asserted to be false, most commonly in contradiction to the hearer’s explicit or assumed beliefs. A challenge from the hearer is anticipated, and the speaker has evidence or other strong grounds for backing up their strong belief. One unfortunate legacy of the logical tradition is the definition of the contrast between realis and irrealis as a contrast between, respectively, real and unreal events; that is, assertions with or without truth value, respectively. When realis and irrealis are defined in cognitive and communicative terms, the focus of the contrast shifts in two important ways:

•
Cognitively: •
Communicatively:

From matters of logical truth to matters of subjective certainty. From speaker-oriented semantics to interactive pragmatics, involving social negotiation between speaker and hearer.

While the more pragmatic, interactive aspects of modality have been long recognized in the evaluative-deontic domain of irrealis, they turn out to be just as ubiquitous in the epistemic domain (Grice 1968/1975). 6.4.3 The distribution of modality in grammar 6.4.3.1
Preliminaries There are relatively few languages where the grammatical — primarily morphological — marking of all modalities is totally uniform. The one obvious exception here is negation, which is fairly uniformly marked in all languages (see Ch. 8). But individual languages may show uniform marking of either presupposition, realis, or irrealis (see Ch. 7). The lack of total uniformity in the morphological marking of modality is due to the fact that the three less-uniformly marked modalities — presupposition, realis and irrealis — can arise diachronically, i.e. be grammaticalized, from a wide variety of source domains. And this variety is, in turn, due to the fact that these three propositional modalities appear in multiple grammatical contexts. So that more than one context can act as the sourcedomain for their grammaticalization. Unlike the oft-unpredictable nature of modality-marking morphology, the distribution of the four main modalities across grammatical contexts is highly predictable and universal. The main grammatical context to be discussed in this section are: modality of lexical verbs; •
inherent
tense-aspect •
modal adverbs;and auxiliaries; •

Tense, aspect and modality
I

type: •
clause
main declarative affirmative clauses; •
verb-complement •
relative clauses; clauses; •
adverbial clauses; •
non-declarative speech acts. • 6.4.3.2
The reference test for modality One of the most sensitive cross-linguistic tests for modality involves the referential behavior of NPs under various modal scopes (see Ch. 10). For the purpose of applying this test, the four propositional modalities are grouped into two super-modalities:

•
Fact: •
Non-fact:

presupposition and R-assertion; Irr-assertion and Neg-assertion.

The general prediction that one can make then is (Givón 1973b): (40) Reference and propositional modality a. Under the scope of non-fact, NPs can be interpreted as either referring or non-referring. b. Under the scope of fact, NPs can only be interpreted as referring. Since the application of this test presupposes some familiarity with reference and definiteness (Ch. 10), the discussion here will be of necessity rudimentary. Consider the three possible types of nominals that can appear in a predicate-nominal construction:5 (41) a. Referring-definite (Ref-Def) She’s the teacher I told you about yesterday. b. Referring-indefinite (Ref-Indef) She’s a teacher I’d like you to meet. c. Non-referring (Non-Ref) She’s a teacher. That’s what she does for a living. The three types of nominal predicates in (41) are set in different discourse contexts, respectively: (42) a. Ref-Def: The referent has already been identified. b. Ref-Indef: The referent is being introduced for the first time. c. Non-Ref: The nominal predicate is not used to refer to a particular individual (token), but rather to describe his/her/its inherent attributes (type). In the following sections, we will apply the reference test and predictions (40a,b) to test the distribution of propositional modalities in various grammatical contexts. 6.4.3.3
Inherent modality of lexical verbs Much like inherent aspects, lexical verbs (or adjectives) also carry some inherent modality — either presupposition, realis, irrealis or negation. This can easily be revealed by applying

303

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the reference test, since verbs spread their modal scope over their object NPs. The most useful test is that of how an indefinite object is interpreted. Thus consider: (43) a. Fact:

b. Irrealis:

c. Negation:

He has a dog (> a particular dog; Ref) (*> any dog; *Non-Ref) He wants a dog (> a particular dog; Ref) (> any dog; Non-Ref) He lacks a dog (> any dog; Non-Ref (*a particular dog; *Ref)

The vast majority of verbs carry an inherently realis modality, so that — unless under an explicit non-fact operator with irrealis or negation scope — their indefinite object can only be interpreted as referring. It is thus more economical to list the relatively few lexical verbs with irrealis, negation, or presupposition scope, such as: (44) a. Inherent irrealis verbs want, like, look for, dream of, think of, believe in b. Inherent negative verbs lack, refuse, decline, miss c. Inherent presuppositional verbs know, forget, regret Many of these verbs, as well as other verbs, can also take verbal complements, and thus spread their non-fact or presupposition modal scope over their complement clause (see §
6.4.3.6.1, below). Note finally that definite objects, which are referring by default, are admissible under the modal scope of all modalities. Thus: (45) a. b. c. d.

Realis: Irrealis: Negation: Presupposition:

She had the dog (for two years) She wanted the dog (real bad) She refused the dog She knew the dog

6.4.3.4Modality and tense-aspect The reference test, when applied to tense-aspect, establishes the following correlations between modality and tense-aspect:

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(46) Distribution of modality in tense-aspects modality

tense

aspect

fact

past present

non-fact

future

perfective perfect progressive habitual repetitive

The reference test, applied only to verbs with inherent fact modality, supports this distribution. Thus, examples (47) below allow only a referring interpretation of ‘a sandwich’. That is, if the proposition is true, then the speaker must have intended a specific sandwich to exist. (47) a. b. c. d.

Past: Past-perfect: Present perfect: Present progressive:

He ate a sandwich He had eaten a sandwich He has eaten a sandwich He is eating a sandwich

On the other hand, examples (48) allow a non-referring interpretation of the object. Indeed, in the case of negation (48c) that is the only possible interpretation:6 (48) a. Future: b. Habitual: c. Negation:

He will eat a sandwich He always eats a sandwich (for lunch) He did not eat a sandwich

The modal status of the habitual tense-aspect is somewhat murky. All other things being equal, habitual clauses tend to be just as strongly asserted as realis, and thus share its communicative-pragmatic features (39). However, the most important feature of realis assertions, that they pertain to specific events occurring at some specific time, is lacking in habitual assertions. Still, a habitual assertion may be a well-founded generalization supported by knowledge of many specific past instances — hence its high subjective certainty. 6.4.3.5
Irrealis adverbs Most epistemic adverbs such as ‘maybe’, ‘probably’, ‘possibly’, ‘likely’, ‘supposedly’, ‘presumably’, ‘surely’ or ‘undoubtedly’ cast an irrealis scope over the proposition in which they are lodged. The presence of these irrealis operators overrides the modality of realis tense-aspects. Again, the reference test suggests that an indefinite object in a clause under the scope of these irrealis operators can be interpreted as non-referring. Thus, note the effect of the epistemic adverbs in (56a–e) as compared with (56a): (56) a. b. c. d. e.

She ate a sandwich Maybe she ate a sandwich He is probably eating a sandwich She has undoubtedly eaten a sandwich She had most likely eaten a sandwich

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The same is also true of many evaluative adverbs, some of which, such as ‘hopefully’, indeed cast realis scope over the clause: (57) a. He bought a new car this time (> a specific car) b. Hopefully, he bought a new car this time (> any car) Some evaluative adverbs, such as ‘preferably’ and ‘ideally’ are strictly future-projecting, and thus incompatible with realis tense-aspects. Thus compare: (58) a. Preferably he should buy a new car tomorrow. b. *Preferably he bought a new car yesterday. c. *Preferably she is buying a new car right now. Finally, some evaluative adverbs, such as ‘fortunately’, ‘unfortunately, ‘regrettably’, ‘sadly’, ‘happily’, seem to posses an inherent fact modality, that of presupposition, and thus do not cast irrealis scope: (59) Fortunately, she ate a sandwich (beforehand) (> a specific one) (*> any sandwich) Semantically, these adverbs are related to factive predicates such as ‘regret’, ‘be terrible’, ‘be nice’, ‘be sad’, ‘be terrific’, ‘be happy’ etc., all of which cast presupposition modal scope over their complement clauses (see §6.4.3.6.1 below). The pragmatic inference that seems to motivate presuppositional modality here is: (60) In order for one to be sad or happy about an event, that event must have already occurred. 6.4.3.6
Modality and clause type The unmarked clause-type in language — the main, declarative, affirmative clause7 — has, by default, a realis modal status. As we have seen above, several grammatical or lexical operators can cast an irrealis, negation or presupposition modal scope over a main clause. In this section we thus deal primarily with the distribution of modality in subordinate, non-declarative or negative clauses. 6.4.3.6.1
Verb complements. a.

Modality verbs and modal auxiliaries As noted earlier above, verbs have their own inherent modality, with the vast majority belonging to the unmarked category of inherent realis. A relatively small minority of verbs possess an inherent irrealis, negation or presupposition modality. But among modality verbs, the proportion of those with inherent irrealis is quite high, since this group constitutes the lexical reservoir from which tense, aspect and modal operators are often grammaticalized.

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Modality verbs reveal the same three-way distinction of inherent modality as other lexical verbs. However, their modal scope is cast not only over their object, but over their entire complement clauses. They are divided into three groups, according to the modality they cast over their complement (see Ch. 3, §3.3.7.3, as well as Karettunen 1971, 1974): (61) Modal scope of complements of modality verbs verb type

modality of complement

implicative non-implicative neg-implicative

realis assertion irrealis assertion Neg-assertion

Once the modality of a complement clause is determined by the modality verb under whose scope it falls, the referential status of NPs in the complement abides by general rule (40), allowing non-referring interpretation of NPs only under the scope of non-fact. That is, in complements of either non-implicative or Neg-implicative modality verbs. Thus compare: (62) a. Simple clause (realis) She ate a sandwich (> a specific one) b. Implicative = realis complement She managed to eat a sandwich (> She ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-implicative = irrealis complement She wanted to eat a sandwich (… / She ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. Neg-implicative = negative complement She failed to eat a sandwich (… She didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich) The most typical implicative, non-implicative and Neg-implicative modality verbs were listed in Ch. 3, §3.3.7.3. As noted in Chapter 5, above, modality verbs can easily grammaticalize, first into tenseaspect-modal auxiliaries, and eventually into bound T-A-M morphology. It is thus not surprising to find irrealis operators in many languages that are derived from non-implicative modality verbs. In German, for example, these modal operators still retain their grammatical status as modality verbs, regardless of their new semantic status. In English, on the other hand, these verbs form their own special class of modal auxiliaries, such as ‘can’, ‘could’, ‘may’, ‘might’, ‘will’, ‘would’, ‘shall’, ‘should’ and ‘must’

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Initially, all English modal auxiliaries had evaluative-deontic senses, such as intent, ability, necessity, obligation, permission or preference. Over time, many of them acquired epistemic senses, such as lower certainty or lower probability (Traugott 1989). It is thus natural that the yet-evolving new modals — ‘have-to’, ‘got-to’, ‘need-to’, ‘be-able-to’ — have only deontic but not yet any epistemic senses. It is clear, further, that evaluative-deontic sub-modes of irrealis always involve an irreducible core sense of epistemic uncertainty — but not vice versa. The relation between the epistemic and evaluative-deontic sub-modes of irrealis is thus a one-way conditional, whereby the valuative-deontic represents further marking of the epistemic: (63) If evaluative, then epistemic (but not vice versa) or If intention, then uncertainty (but not vice versa) The diachronic rise of epistemic senses out of deontic ones may thus be viewed as an instance of semantic bleaching, whereby the more marked category is lost but the unmarked is retained. The one-way conditional relation between the two main sub-modes of irrealis is due to the fact that intention, ability, preference, permission and obligation are all future projecting, and that the future is by definition an irrealis epistemic mode. The epistemic aspect of irrealis is thus its common denominator, to which an evaluative-deontic aspect may be added. The epistemic common denominator of irrealis may help explain the common occurrence of shared grammatical marking of the two sub-modalities of irrealis (see Ch. 7). This is indeed the case in the grammar of English modals. Many English modals code more than one irrealis sub-mode, but ‘can’ and ‘may’ can yield three, as in: (64) a. Ability: b. Probability: c. Permission:

If he tries hard, he can do it (> he has the ability to do it) The guy who did it could also be insane (> it is likely that he is insane) If he pays the fee, he can join (> he is permitted to join)

Other — seemingly more deontic — modals such as ‘should’ and ‘must’, can still signal either obligation or probability: (65) a. Obligation: b. Probability: c. Obligation: d. Probability:

She should stop wasting her time on it (> she had better stop) He should be there by now (> it is likely that he is) You must do it right away (> you had better) She must be there by now (> she is probably there)

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b.

Manipulation verbs As noted in Chapter 3 (§3.3.7.3), manipulation verbs are divided into the same three modal-semantic classes as modality verbs (61). So that the modal scope they cast over their complements is just as predictable, with the implicative ones casting the fact modality, the non-implicative ones irrealis, and the Neg-implicative ones negation. Thus compare: (66) a. Simple clause (realis) He ate a sandwich (> a specific one) b. Implicative = realis complement She made him eat a sandwich (… He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-implicative = irrealis complement She told him to eat a sandwich (… / He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. Neg-implicative = negative complement She prevented him from eating a sandwich (… He didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich) For obvious semantic reasons, the irrealis sub-mode of manipulation verbs is always valuative-deontic. c.

Perception-cognition-utterance (P-C-U) verbs As noted in Chapter 3 (§3.3.7.3), P-C-U verbs are divided into three modal-semantic classes (Kiparski and Kiparski 1968; Karttunen 1971, 1974), according to the modal scope they cast over their complements: (67) Modal scope of complements of P-C-U verbs verb type

modality of complement

factive non-factive Neg-factive

presupposition irrealis assertion Neg-assertion

To illustrate the modal and referential properties of P-C-U verbs, consider: (68) a. Simple clause (realis) He ate a sandwich (> a specific sandwich)

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b. Factive = presupposed complement She knew that he ate a sandwich (… He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-factive = irrealis complement She thought that he ate a sandwich (… / He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. Neg-factive = negative complement She lied that he ate a sandwich (… He didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich) 6.4.3.6.2
Modality in relative clauses. Restrictive Rel-clauses that modify referring head nouns, whether definite or indefinite, fall under the scope of presupposition (Ch. 3, §3.3.7.3), unless some marked non-fact operator intervenes. When modifying nonreferring head nouns, restrictive Rel-clauses fall under the scope of non-fact. Nonrestrictive Rel-clauses, which as a rule can only modify referring head nouns, fall under the scope of realis. Thus compare: (69) Restrictive Rel-clauses a. Ref-definite head noun I saw the woman who came in late (… the woman came in late) (> a specific woman) b. Ref-indefinite head noun There’s a woman who came in late and… (… a woman came in late) (> a specific woman) c. Non-Ref head noun I know of no woman who came in late (… no woman came in late) (> no woman) (70) Non-restrictive Rel-clause a. Ref-definite head noun I saw the woman, who came in late, leave early (… the woman came in late) (> a specific woman) b. Ref-indefinite head noun *There’s a woman, who came in late, and…

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c. Non-Ref head noun *I know of no woman, who came in late, and… 6.4.3.6.3
Modality in adverbial clauses. Adverbial subordinate clauses tend to come under the scope of either presupposition or irrealis or negation, depending on the type of subordination involved (see Vol. II, Ch. 18). Typical presupposition-scoped Adv-clauses in English are: (71) a. Past-perfective temporal Adv clause When she found a house, it was too expensive (… she found a house) b. Past-perfect temporal Adv-clause When she had found a house, she bought it (… she found a house) c. Concessive Adv clause Although she found a house, she refused to buy it (… she found a house) d. Cause Adv clause Because he met a new guru, he left the church (… he met a new guru) e. Reason Adv clause Since she has a job, she can afford it (… she has a job) Typical irrealis-scope adverbial clauses are: (72) a. Future time Adv clause When you get a loan, I’ll sell you my car. (… / you got a loan) b. Conditional Adv clause If you get a loan, I’ll sell you my car (… / you got a loan) c. Purpose Adv clause In order for you to get a loan, I’ll have to co-sign it (… / you got a loan) Finally, one type of Adv clause, the counterfact conditional, falls under the modal scope of negation: (73) Counter-fact conditional Adv clause If you had got a loan, I would have sold you my car. (… you didn’t get a loan)

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6.4.3.7
Modality in non-declarative speech acts So far, we have dealt exclusively with the modality of declarative clauses. Of the three main types of non-declarative clauses (see Vol. II, Ch. 17), two — manipulatives and yes/noquestion — fall under the modal scope of irrealis. Manipulative speech acts, such as command, request or exhortation, are associated with irrealis because, like modality-verbs and manipulation-verbs, they deal with future events that are yet to occur. What is more, manipulative speech acts are associated with the evaluative-deontic sub-mode of irrealis. The strong association of yes/no-questions with irrealis is due to their low epistemic certainty. As illustration of irrealis-connected non-declarative clauses, consider: (74) a. Command Turn off the light! b. Request Could you please turn off the light? c. Exhortation Let’s turn off the light. d. Yes/no-question Did she turn off the light? The third main type of non-declarative speech act, wh-questions (Vol. II, Ch. 17), has a strong association with the modality of presupposition, although the presupposed state or event is missing one component — the identity of one of its arguments: (75) a. Who bit the dog? (> Someone bit the dog) b. What did the dog bite? (> The dog chewed something) c. Where did she put the book? (> She put the book somewhere) d. When did he leave the house? (> He left the house some time) e. Why did she quit her job? (> She quit her job for some reason) 6.4.4 Irrealis and the subjunctive mood8 One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself. (John Milton, Paradise Lost)

6.4.4.1
Preliminaries: Mood and modality The grammatical category mood, and within it the subjunctive, is often been as less-thanuniversal. The most obvious reasons for this are, in all likelihood:

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to the functional basis of the subjunctive; •
inattention of coherent theory of modality and irrealis; •
lack
myopic focus on the verbal morphology of individual languages. • Once these self-imposed handicaps are removed, it is relatively easy to identify the two main semantic domains where the category ‘subjunctive’ most often grammaticalizes crosslinguistically. This is so because the two turn out to occupy distinct loci within the two submodes of irrealis — epistemic and valuative-deontic:

•
Epistemic: •
Valuative-deontic:

lower certainty; weaker manipulation.

Both of these sub-modes of irrealis are profoundly scalar, and it is at the lower range of both scales where subjunctives tend to grammaticalize. The predictive power of this identification has the familiar ring of a one-way conditional association and implicationalhierarchic generalizations: (76) Prediction about grammaticalized subjunctives a. If a language has a grammaticalized subjunctive at all, then it will appear at two distinct foci — lower certainty and/or weaker manipulation — along the scale of the two irrealis sub-modes. b. If a language uses a subjunctive form at a higher point on the certainty or manipulation scale, it will also use it on the lower point; but not vice versa. Being a one-way conditional, the logical relation between subjunctive and irrealis is therefore that of inclusion, whereby the subjunctive is a sub-set — sub-category, further specification — of irrealis. And one should thus not expect the reverse prediction (75a,b): (77) a. *Since all languages have those semantic loci along the two main irrealis submodes, all languages should display a grammaticalized subjunctive. b. *If a language uses a subjunctive form at a lower point on the certainty or manipulation scale, it will also use it at higher points. Predictions about grammaticalization patterns almost always have this one-way-conditional pattern, whereby one can predict that if a grammaticalized pattern is found, it will most likely appear first at a highly specific locus — diachronic beach-head — along the functional domain, and may then spread in a specific direction. What one cannot predict is whether a particular pattern of grammaticalization will or will not take place in a particular language. Put another way, one can predict how languages will grammaticalize particular domains, but seldom whether they will or will not grammaticalize them. Indeed, one major type of cross-linguistic variation is just that — the degree or density of grammaticalization of particular functional domains. 6.4.4.2
Distribution of the subjunctive in irrealis contexts In §6.4.3 above we surveyed the various grammatical contexts in which various modalities are found. Among those, we need now to consider only contexts falling under the scope of irrealis:

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declarative clauses with irrealis operators •
main (future, modal adverbs, modal auxiliaries);
irrealis speech-acts; •
irrealis non-declarative V-complement clauses; •
irrealis Rel-clauses modifying Non-Ref heads; •
irrealis Adv clauses. • In the following space we will survey the distribution of subjunctive forms in Spanish, a language in which the same form is used to code both the subjunctive of lower certainty and the subjunctive of weaker manipulation. The comparison with the English translations will highlight the use of English modals in both capacities. 6.4.4.2.1
The subjunctive of low certainty in main declarative clauses. In Spanish, the subjunctive can be used in main declarative clauses only if irrealis epistemic adverbs such as quizá (‘maybe’), tal vez (‘perhaps’) puede ser (‘may be’) etc. are also used. The resultant epistemic certainty gradient along the irrealis range is then: (78) a. Future without Adv; (highest certainty) vendrá. come/3sg/fut ‘s/he will come’ b. *Subjunctive without epistemic Adv *venga. come/3sg/subjun (*‘s/he might come’)9 c. Future with epistemic Adv (lower certainty) Quizá vendrá. Maybe come/3sg/fut ‘Perhaps he’ll come’. d. Subjunctive with epistemic Adv (lowest certainty) Quizá venga. maybe come/3sg/subjun ‘Perhaps he might come’. In English, the old past form of the modals reveals itself as the subjunctive marker (Bybee 1995). However, the epistemic range covered by English modals is not identical with that of the Spanish subjunctive, since English modals may be used without epistemic adverbs, thus in a way imparting the sense of those: (79) a. Future alone (higher certainty) He will come. b. Simple modal form (lower certainty) He may/can/shall come. c. ‘Past’ modal-subjunctive (lowest certainty) She would/might/could/should come.

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Spanish also has past subjunctive forms, used in irrealis contexts of lower epistemic certainty. Without any epistemic adverbs in the main clause, again only the past (‘indicative’) form can be used: (80) a. Past with no epistemic Adv: estaba esperando be/3sg/past/imperf wait/part ‘s/he was waiting’ b. *Subjunctive with no epistemic adverb *estuviera esperando be/3sg/past/imperf/subjun wait/part The use of epistemic adverbs again licenses the contrast between past (‘indicative’) and subjunctive (Butt and Benjamin 1988):10 (81) a. Past (‘indicative’) tal vez me-estaba esperando perhaps me-be/3sg/past/imperf wait/part ‘perhaps s/he was waiting for me’ b. Past subjunctive tal vez me-estuviera esperando perhaps me-be/3sg/past/imperf/subjun wait/part ‘(perhaps) she might/may/could have been waiting for me’ In (81b) above the English modals, now combined with the perfect auxiliary ‘have’ to compensate for the demise of the old past form, again code the subjunctive of lower certainty. 6.4.4.2.2
The subjunctive in non-declarative speech acts. a.

Yes/no-questions Yes/no-questions are certainly under irrealis scope of lower epistemic certainty. Nonetheless, they don’t admit the subjunctive of epistemic uncertainty in Spanish, hence the infelicity of (82b) below. The subjunctive form can still be used in yes/no-questions with the added subordinator que (82c), but then it can only be interpreted as deontic, i.e. indicating obligation or permission: (82) a. Future (‘indicative’) Va a partir mañana? go/3sg/ind to leave/inf tomorrow ‘Is s/he going to leave tomorrow?’ b. *Epistemic subjunctive *Vaya a partir mañana? go/3sg/subjun to leave/inf tomorrow

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c. Deontic subjunctive Que vaya a partir mañana? sub go/3sg/subjun to leave/inf tomorrow ‘Should/may s/he leave tomorrow?’ *‘Is s/he really going to leave tomorrow?’ The English equivalent of the Spanish subjunctive, the past-form modals, can indeed be used in yes/no-questions. But — with the exception of the future modal will — all English modals seem to lose their epistemic sense in this context, retaining only their (older) deontic sense. Thus compare: (83) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i.

Will she do it? (epistemic) Would she do it? (willingness) Can she do it? (ability, permission) Could she do it? (ability, permission) May she do it? (permission) Might I suggest that…? (permission) Shall we do it? (permission, exhortation) Should she do it? (permission, obligation)? Must she do it? (obligation)

A similar narrowing of the modal-sense range of English modals has been noted in negative clauses (Givón 1979a: Ch. 3). b.

Manipulative speech-acts In Spanish, the contrast between the imperative and the subjunctive is used for coding the relative strength of the manipulative speech-act. The informal, familiar, less polite imperative codes stronger manipulations, while the more tentative, formal or deferent subjunctive codes weaker manipulations: (84) a. Imperative (‘familiar’) Ven! come/2sg/imp ‘Come!’ b. Subjunctive (‘formal’) Venga. come/2sg/subjun ‘Do come.’ With 3rd person subjects, the Spanish subjunctive shades into the weaker-yet deontic range of hortative, hope, weak preference or permission, often in combination with other modal operators:

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(85) a. Hortative Que venga! sub come/3sg/subjun ‘Let him/her come!’ ‘S/he may come’ ‘S/he should come b. Subjunctive of hope Ojalá que venga! hope sub come/subjun ‘Let’s hope s/he comes!’ ‘Let’s hope s/he may come’ c. Subjunctive of preference Mejor que venga pronto. Better sub come/3sg/subjun soon ‘S/he had better come soon’ ‘S/he should come soon’ ‘S/he might as well come soon’ In English, a predictable three-way contrast between the imperative, simple modal and ‘past’ modal codes the strength of direct manipulative speech-acts: (86) a. Strongest manipulation: Imperative Leave! b. Weaker manipulation: Simple modal You may/can leave. c. Weakest manipulation: ‘Past’-modal You might/could leave (87) a. Imperative Come! b. Weaker manipulation You can/may come now. c. Weakest manipulation You might/could come. Though the yes/no-question forms (83) are also used in direct manipulative speech acts: (88) Will/would/can/could you leave now? In this speech-act context, even will loses its epistemic value and reverts to its older deontic sense. 6.4.4.2.3
The subjunctive in verb complements. As noted above (§6.4.3.6.1), all three classes of complement-taking verbs include some verbs that cast irrealis scope over their complements. This is precisely where subjunctive forms, coding either weaker manipulation or lower certainty, can be found.

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a.

Complements of manipulation verbs The complement of implicative verbs of manipulation or perception in Spanish, such as hacer (‘make’) or ver (‘see’), falls under the scope of realis. Predictably, the subjunctive cannot be used in here, but only the infinitive:10 (89) a. Infinitive complement le hicieron callar a Juan 3sg/obj made/3pl shut.up/inf obj John ‘they made John shut up’ b. *Subjunctive complement *le hicieron a Juan que callara 3sg/obj made/3pl obj John sub shut.up/past/subjun/3sg (*‘They made John that he should keep quiet’) c. Infinitive complement le vieron pasar a Juan 3sg/obj saw/3pl pass/inf obj John ‘they saw John pass by’ d. *Subjunctive complement *le vieron a Juan que pasara 3sg/obj saw/3pl obj John sub pass/past/subjun/3sg (*‘They saw John that he might have passed by’) The complements of non-implicative verbs, as noted earlier, fall under irrealis scope. As expected, the subjunctive can be used in such complements, often to further modulate the strength of the manipulation. With some non-implicative verbs, such as mandar (‘order’) and aconsejar (‘advise’), one finds a contrast between infinitive and the subjunctive, coding, respectively, stronger vs. weaker manipulations (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (90) a. Infinitive complement (stronger) le mandaron callar-se 3sg/obj ordered/3pl shut.up/inf-ref ‘They ordered him to shut up’ b. Subjunctive complement (weaker) le mandaron que se callara 3sg/obj ordered/3pl sub refl be.quiet/past/subjun/3sg ‘They told him that he should keep quiet’ c. Infinitive complement (stronger) le aconsejaron no decir nada 3sg/obj advised/3pl neg say/inf nothing ‘They advised him to say nothing’ d. Subjunctive complement (weaker) le aconsejaron que no diciera nada 3sg/obj advised/3pl sub neg say/past/subjun/3sg nothing ‘They advised him that he should not say anything’

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Finally, verbs of weaker-yet manipulation in Spanish, such as decir (‘tell’) and pedir (‘ask’), can take only the subjunctive complement form, but not the infinitive (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (91) a. *Infinitive complement (stronger) *le dijeron seguir-les 3sg/obj told follow/inf-them b. Subjunctive complement (weaker) le dijeron que les siguiera 3sg/obj told/3pl sub them follow/past/subjun/3sg ‘They told her that she should follow them’ c. *Infinitive complement (stronger) *le pidieron seguir-les 3sg/obj told follow/inf-them d. Subjunctive complement (weaker) le pidieron que les siguiera 3sg/obj asked/3pl sub them follow/past/subjun/3sg ‘They asked her if she could follow them’ ‘They ask that she follow them’ In English, verbs such as ‘tell’ and ‘ask’ can still take infinitive complements, thus suggesting that they can be used to code stronger manipulations. One needs to go down to a lower-yet deontic range in English, with weaker verbs such as ‘prefer’, ‘suggest’, ‘wish’ or ‘insist’, before infinitive complements become unacceptable: (92) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l.

I prefer that she leave *I prefer her to leave ?I prefer that she leaves I suggest that she (should) leave *I suggest her to leave ?I suggest that she leaves He wished that she would leave *He wished her to leave *He wished that she left She insists that he (should) leave *She insisted him to leave ?She insists that he leaves

(subjunctive) (*infinitive) (?indicative) (subjunctive) (*infinitive) (?indicative) (subjunctive) (*infinitive) (*indicative) (subjunctive) (*infinitive) (?indicative)

b.

The subjunctive in complements of P-C-U verbs As noted earlier above (§6.4.3.6.1), verbs of perception, cognition or utterance (P-C-U verbs) divide into three modal groups — factive, non-factive and Neg-factive. Since factive verbs spread a fact scope over their complements, one would not expect to find the subjunctive in their complements. This is indeed true of factive verbs with strict epistemic modalities, such as ‘know’ or ‘forget’:

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(93) a. Indicative complement sabían que se murió knew/3pl sub ref die/pret/3sg ‘They knew that s/he (had) died’ b. *Subjunctive complement *sabían que se muriera knew/3pl sub ref die/subjun/3sg (‘They knew that s/he may have died’) c. Indicative complement ahora me acuerdo que se murió now ref remember/1sg sub refl die/pret/3sg ‘Now I remember that s/he died’ d. *Subjunctive complement *ahora me acuerdo que se muriera now ref remember/1sg sub ref die/subjun/3sg (‘Now I remember that she may have died’) The difference between Spanish and English, evident in the felicitous English glosses of (93b) and (93d), is instructive. English modals do not only serve as the equivalent of the Spanish subjunctive, but can also be used by themselves, without epistemic adverbs, to create the kind of irrealis scope that in Spanish requires the use of epistemic adverbs. Thus compare: (94) a. *Ahora venga. now come/3sg/subjun (‘He might be coming now’) b. *Viniera ayer. come/3sg/past/subjun yesterday (‘He may have come yesterday’) The subjunctive in Spanish is readily used in complements of non-factive verbs of lower epistemic certainty. Thus, the higher-certainty creer (‘think’/‘believe’) allows only the indicative, while the lower-certainty no creer (‘not believe’), dudarse, (‘doubt’) and no saber (‘not know’) allow only the subjunctive: (95) a. Indicative complement creo que salió believe/1sg sub leave/3sg/pret ‘I think s/he left’ b. *Subjunctive complement *creo que saliera believe/1sg sub leave/3sg/past/subjun c. *Indicative complement *me dudo si/que salió ref doubt/1sg if/sub leave/3sg/pret

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d. Subjunctive complement dudo si saliera doubt/1sg if leave/3sg/past/subjun ‘I doubt that s/he left’ The deontic-oriented ‘wish’, ‘hope’ or ‘fear’ are low enough on the irrealis scale so as to require subjunctive complementation in Spanish: (96) a. *Indicative complement *quiero que vendrá want/1sg sub come/3sg/fut (*‘I wish that she will come’) b. Subjunctive complement quiero que venga want/I sub come/3sg/subjun ‘I wish that he would come’ c. *Indicative complement *espero que vendrá hope/1sg sub come/3sg/fut (‘I hope that s/he will come’) d. Epistemic anxiety espero que venga hope/I comp come/3sg/subjun ‘I hope that he would come’ Finally, there is a group of bona fide factive predicates that nonetheless either require or at least allow subjunctive complements in Spanish. These are either verbs of deontic judgement (‘it is good that’, ‘it is terrible that’, ‘regret’, ‘be happy’) or epistemic surprise (‘be surprised’, ‘it is astounding’, ‘be shocked’). What we have here, I believe, is a conflict between the two features of irrealis, epistemic high certainty vs. deontic counter-expectancy, with the deontic prevailing.11 When the complement is under fact modal scope, the subjunctive is obligatory in Spanish (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (97) a. Les sorprendió que no lo supiera them surprised/3sg sub neg it know/3sg/past/subjun ‘They were surprised that s/he didn’t know it’. b. Me molesta que te quejes tanto me bother/3sg sub refl complain/2sg/subjun so ‘It bothers me that you should complain so much’. c. Me alegra que te guste refl cheer/3sg sub you please/3sg/subjun ‘I’m happy that you like (it)’. d. Es natural que le conozca be/3sg natural sub him know/3sg/subjun ‘It’s only natural that s/he should know him/her’.

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f.

Fué una lástima que no me lo dijeras was/3sg one pity sub neg me it say/2sg/past/subjun ‘It was a pity that you didn’t tell me!’ g. Qué rabia que no nos suban el sueldo what nuisance sub neg us raise/3pl/subjun the salary ‘What a nuisance that they aren’t raising our salary!’ h. Lo siento que esté enfermo. it regret/I sub be/3sg/subjun sick ‘I’m sorry that s/he is sick’. When the complement is under irrealis scope, a contrast between indicative and subjunctive complementation is possible, signalling the predictable difference of degree of certainty (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (98) a. Indicative complement (stronger conviction) Mejor lo dejamos para más tarde better it leave/1pl/ind for more late ‘We had better leave it for later’ b. Subjunctive (weaker conviction) Es Mejor que lo dejemos para más tarde be better sub it leave/1pl/subjun for more late ‘It would be better if we left it for later’ But on occasion it is possible to obtain such contrasts even with fact complements, as in (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (99) a. Indicative (less emotion/surprise) Se horrorizaba de que la trataban así 3sg be/shocked/imperf of sub her treat/imperf/ind so ‘S/he was shocked that they treated her this way’ b. Subjunctive (more emotion/surprise) Se horrorizaba de que la trataran así 3sg be/shocked/imperf of sub her treat/past/subjun so ‘S/he was shocked that they should treat her this way’ c. Indicative (less surprise) Lo increíble era que Pedro no lo sabía it incredible was sub Pedro neg it know/imperf/ind ‘The incredible thing was that Pedro didn’t know it’ d. Subjunctive (more surprise) Lo increíble era que Pedro no lo supiera it incredible was sub Pedro neg it know/past/subjun ‘The incredible thing was that Pedro should not know it’

Tense, aspect and modality
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6.4.4.2.4
The subjunctive in relative clauses. As noted earlier above (§6.4.3.6.2), restrictive Rel-clauses modifying non-referring head nouns fall under the scope of irrealis. Not surprising, the contrast between the indicative and the subjunctive in the Rel-clause is used rather effectively in Spanish to code the contrast referring vs. non-referring head noun. Respectively (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (100) a. Indicative (referring head) Coge la maceta que mas te gustaba take/imp the flower-pot sub most you please/3sg/imperf ‘Take the flower pot you liked best’. b. Subjunctive (non-referring head) Escoge la maceta que mas te guste. choose/imp the flower-pot sub most you please/3sg/subjun ‘Pick whichever flower pot you may like best’. c. Indicative (referring head) Busca a una mujer que conoce a su madre. seek/3sg obj one woman sub know/3sg/ind obj his mother ‘He’s looking for a woman who knows his mother’. (> a particular woman) d. Subjunctive (non-referring head) Busca a una mujer que conozca a su madre. seek/3sg obj one woman sub know/3sg/subjun obj his mother ‘He’s looking for a woman who might know his mother’. (> any such woman) e. Indicative (referring head) Buscaba a una mujer que conocía a su madre. seek/imperf obj one woman sub knew/imperf obj his mother ‘He was looking for a woman who knew his mother’. (> a particular woman) f. Subjunctive = non-referring head Buscaba a una mujer que conociera a su madre. seek/imperf obj one woman sub knew/subjun obj his mother ‘He was looking for a woman who might have known his mother’. (> any such woman) 6.4.4.2.5
The subjunctive in adverbial clauses. “…Honey, I have an uh… unusual request… uh… Y’see, I’ve been on this uh… island… for a long time without uh… the companionship of a uh… female… So I been wonderin’… uh… if I gave you two coconuts…” Ed Sanders as “Robinson Crusoe” The Fugs, It Crawled into my Hand, Honest, Reprise Records RS-6305 (ca. 1967)

As noted earlier above (§6.4.3.6.3), many types of adverbial clauses fall under irrealis scope. In such clauses, one finds the subjunctive coding, predictably, lower epistemic certainly than other ‘indicative’ irrealis forms.

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The epistemic modal space of irrealis Adv-clauses is often sub-divided into a threepoint scale: (101) Most common modal scale of irrealis Adv-clauses epistemic certainity

grammatical form

a.
Higher certainty b.
Lower certainty c.
Lowest certainty

future/modal marking subjunctive/modal marking counter-fact marking

In specific languages, the difference between points (101a) and (101b) may be coded by two distinct subjunctive forms, by two different modal forms, or by a contrast between subjunctive and non-subjunctive form. Sometimes the contrast is not coded in the Adv-clause itself, but rather by different irrealis forms in the associated main clause. The difference between point (101b) and (101c) may be marked by subjunctive vs. non-subjunctive form, by different modal forms, or by different irrealis marking in the main clause. In English, the old past form of the verb is one of the subjunctive forms used in irrealis Adv-clauses, in addition to modals. With ‘when’-irrealis clauses included, the scale of epistemic certainty in English irrealis Adv-clauses in English can be given as a fourpoint scale: (102) Certainty scale for irrealis Adv-clauses in English highest certainty a. Irrealis ‘when’ When she comes, we will consider it. b. Irrealis ‘if’ If she comes, we will/may consider it. c. Subjunctive ‘if’ If she ever came, we would/might consider it. d. Counterfact ‘if’ If she had come, we would have/might have considered it. lowest certainty As one might predict, the contrast between the indicative and the subjunctive is found in many irrealis Adv-clauses in Spanish. In such contexts, the indicative signals higher epistemic certainty and the subjunctive lower certainty (Butt and Benjamin 1988): (103) a. Present indicative (higher certainty) Me saludará cuando llega me greet/fut/3sg when arrive/3sg/pres ‘She’ll greet me when she arrives’. b. Present subjunctive (lower certainty) Me saludará quando llegue me greet/3sg when arrive/3sg/subjun ‘She’ll greet me whenever she may arrive’.

Tense, aspect and modality
I

c. Indicative-past (realis) Tan pronto como se acabó la huelga, as soon as refl end/3sg/pret the strike ‘As soon as the strike ended, todo se arregló. all refl arrange/3sg/pret everything became alright’. d. Subjunctive-present (irrealis) Tan pronto come se acabe la huelga, as soon as refl end/3sg/subjun the strike ‘As soon as the strike is over, las cosas marcharán mejor the things go/3pl/fut better things will go better’. e. Indicative-past (realis) A medida que iban entrando, at measure sub go/3pl/past/imperf entering ‘As they came in, se lo decía them it told/imperf/I I told it to them’. f.

Subjunctive-present (irrealis) A medida que vayan entrando, se lo diré at measure sub go/3pl/subjun entering them it say/fut/I ‘As they come in, I will tell it to them’.

g. Indicative-past (realis) Hasta que no llegó a ser ministro till sub neg come/3sg/pret to be minister ‘Until he became minister, no se quedó contento. neg refl stay/3sg/pret satisfied he wasn’t satisfied’. h. Subjunctive-present (irrealis) Hasta que no llegue a ser ministro until sub neg come/3sg/subjun to be minister ‘Until he becomes a minister, no se quedará contento neg refl stay/3sg/fut satisfied he won’t be satisfied’. In conditional clauses marked with the subordinator si (‘if’), Spanish displays a three-point epistemic scale. The present-subjunctive form cannot be used here, but the past-subjunctive now assumes an irrealis modal value, as in English (102). Thus (Butt and Benjamin 1988):

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(104) a. Higher certainty (present indicative) Si viene, me quedaré if come/3sg/pres 1sg stay/1sg/fut ‘If he comes, I will stay’. b. Lower certainty (past-subjunctive) Si viniera, me quedaría if come/3sg/past/subjun refl stay/1sg/cond ‘If he came, I would/might stay’. c. Counter-fact (perfect-subjunctive) Si hubiera venido, me habría quedado. if have/3sg/past/subjun come refl have/cond stayed ‘If he had come, I would have stayed’. 6.4.5 Evidentiality The phenomenon of evidentiality overlaps to quite an extent with epistemic modality. Still, in many languages the two form distinct grammatical sub-systems. Rather than pertaining directly to subjective certainty, grammaticalized evidential systems code first and foremost the source of the evidence available to back up an assertion, and only then, implicitly, its strength. It is that implicit connection that, in turn, links evidentiality to subjective certainty. The relation between evidentiality and epistemic modality can be thus given as the mediated causal chain: evidential source > evidential strength > epistemic certainty In this section we will deal with some of the more universal semantic distinctions that underlie grammaticalized evidential systems. A more extensive discussion can be found in Givón (1982b) and Chafe and Nichols (eds 1996). As noted earlier above in the discussion of epistemic modalities (§6.4.2), of the four main propositional modalities in language, only two — R-assertion and Neg-assertion — involve the availability of supporting evidence, or other grounds for making a strong assertion. The communicative re-definition of the four epistemic modalities is reproduced below: (39) The communicative re-definition of epistemic modality a. Presupposition The proposition is taken for granted to be true, either by definition, by prior agreement, by generic culturally-shared convention, by being obvious to all present at the speech situation, or by having been uttered by the speaker and left unchallenged by the hearer. b. Realis assertion The proposition is strongly asserted to be true. But challenge from the hearer is deemed appropriate, although the speaker has evidence or other strong grounds for defending their strong belief.

Tense, aspect and modality
I

c. Irrealis assertion The proposition is weakly asserted to be either possible, likely or uncertain (epistemic sub-modes), or necessary, desired or undesired (valuativedeontic sub-modes). But the speaker is not ready to back up the assertion with evidence or other strong grounds; and challenge from the hearer is readily entertained, expected or even solicited. d. Negative assertion The proposition is strongly asserted to be false, most commonly in contradiction to the hearer’s explicit or assumed beliefs. A challenge from the hearer is anticipated, and the speaker has evidence or other strong grounds for backing up their strong belief. Presupposition is exempt from the need for supporting evidence because it is founded on some pre-existing agreement with the hearer — definitions, general conventions, shared beliefs, prior unchallenged discourse or downright telepathy or divination. In languages where presupposition is distributed most conspicuously in subordinate clauses, evidential marking skips over such clauses. Irrealis is so weak and tentative that it falls below the threshold of the need to bother with evidence. Grammaticalized evidential systems tend to either skip over irrealis clauses, or change their semantic valuation to epistemic certainty. Grammaticalized evidential morphology is thus reserved primarily for finer epistemic quantification of strong assertions, be they realis or negative, where they seem to serve a similar modulating function as the subjunctive and other devices serve in the modal range of irrealis. Evidential systems tend to grammaticalize as part of the tense-aspect-modality inflectional complex on the verb. The most common distinctions made by such systems divide the source of information into categories such as: direct experience vs. hearsay vs. inference; •
access: •
sensory modality: visual vs. auditory vs. others. Languages then rank the strength or reliability of evidence along the following universal hierarchies: (105) Hierarchies of evidential strength a. Access hierarchy direct sensory experience > inference > hearsay b. Sensory sub-hierarchy vision > hearing > others c. Personal deictic hierarchy speaker > hearer > 3rd person d. Spatial deixis near > far

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e. Temporal deixis Ï perfect
¸ present > Ì > remote past
˝ immediate past Ó
˛ The most common binary contrast in grammaticalized evidentiality, between directlyexperienced and indirect evidence — either hearsay or inference — can be seen in Turkish, where two past-tense suffixes contrast (Slobin and Aksu 1982): (106) a. Past, directly-witnessed gel-di come-past/dir.ev ‘s/he came (as I directly witnessed)’ b. Past, hearsay or inferential gel-mis¸ come-past/indir.ev ‘he came (as I hear, as they say)’ ‘he came (as I infer)’ ‘he came (to my surprise)’ One may as well note that the Turkish evidentiality contrast also carries an associated contrast, sometimes called mirativity (Delancey 1997, 1999c). In plain English, this means a contrast between surprising vs. predictable information. Thus, the directly-experienced evidential form (106a) above also tags the information as unsurprising or predictable. While the hearsay/inference form (106b) may also code the information as surprising or unexpected (Slobin and Aksu 1982; Mithun 1986). In most languages with grammaticalized evidentiality, mirativity is a possible associated distinction. In some languages, however, the two systems may grammaticalize distinctly at least in some contexts (Dickinson 1999). In many languages with a grammaticalized evidential system, a clause with first person subject (or object) is exempt from need to display evidential marking, presumably because the speaker — being a participant in the event — is presumed to have had direct access to it (see (105c)). Thus, in Sherpa (Tibeto-Burman), for example, in both the perfective/past and the progressive present, the evidentiary contrast is marked for third person subjects, but neither for first person nor in future/irrealis (Givón 1982b): (107) a. Third person, past (direct evidence) ti-gi cenyi caaq-sung 3sg-erg cup break-perfv/dir.ev ‘s/he broke the cup’ b. Third person, past (hearsay or inference) ti-gi cenyi caaq-no 3sg-erg cup break-perfv/indir ‘s/he broke the cup’

Tense, aspect and modality
I

c. First person, past (no distinction) ngyee cenyi caaq-yin I/erg cup break-past/1sg ‘I broke the cup’ d. Third person, present (direct evidence) ti lagha ki-yin no 3sg/abs work do-impfv be/dir.ev ‘s/he is working’ e. Third person, present (hearsay or inference) ti lagha ki-yin way 3sg/abs work do-impfv be/indir ‘s/he is working’ f.

First person, present (no contrast) nga lagha ki-yin way I/abs work do-impfv be/1sg ‘I am working’

g. Third person, irrealis (no contrast) ti lagha ki-wi 3sg/abs work do-fut ‘s/he will work’ In most grammaticalized evidential systems, the terms at the top of hierarchies (105) are the unmarked case semantically, and are often also unmarked morphologically. It is the lower terms in the hierarchy — information that is less directly available or surprising — that requires explicit marking (Mithun 1986). It thus seems that the cognitive-communicative norm is that reported new information should (Slobin and Aksu 1982; Aksu-Koç and Slobin 1986): directly witnessed; •
be
conforms to expectations. • Finally, we noted above that evidentiality, while in principle distinct from epistemic modality, nonetheless interacts with it, often quite intensively. It is easy to see that the top of the evidential-strength hierarchies (105) also marks higher epistemic certainty. In many languages, further, the very same morphological system can code an evidentiality contrast in some contexts but an epistemic-certainty contrast in others. Such interaction has been described in Newari (Tibeto-Burman; Hargreaves 1983) and Iroquois (Mithun 1986), inter alia.

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6.5

Communicative and cognitive aspects of tense, aspect and modality

6.5.1

Markedness The mostly-binary contrasts underlying tense-aspect-modal systems exhibit a certain asymmetry that is characteristic of both linguistic and cognitive categories: One member of the pair acts as the unmarked case, the absence of the category, the general norm. While the other member acts as the marked case, the presence of the category, the counter-norm. The facts that support such a distinction in language come from three distinct areas of behavior (Givón 1991b): (108) Criteria for markedness a. Structural complexity The marked case is more complex. b. Discourse distribution The marked case is less frequent. c. Cognitive complexity The marked category is harder to process. In the space below we will deal first with the discourse distribution of tense-aspectmodality, and with what it implies about the communicative and cognitive correlates of tense-aspect-modality. The fact that the three criteria for markedness (108a–c) tend to correlate in a systematic fashion is of considerable theoretical interest, but is discussed elsewhere (Givón 1991b). The markedness status of the binary distinctions that underlie tense-aspect-modality are summarized in (109) below: (109) Markedness of tense-aspect-modal categories

6.5.2

category

unmarked

marked

a.
Modality b.
Perfectivity (i) Completion (ii) Boundedness (iii) Compactness c.
Perfectness (i) Sequentiality (ii) Relevance

realis perfective completed bounded compact simple past in-sequence event-anchored

irrealis imperfective incompletive unbounded durative perfect off-sequence speech-anchored

Frequency text-distribution The general considerations in support of the markedness scheme in (109) have been discussed in considerable detail in Hopper and Thompson (1980) and elsewhere. Briefly, the realis, terminated, compact, completive, in-sequence verb-form tends to be the most commonly used one in human discourse. This distributional norm is to some extent genre-

Tense, aspect and modality
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331

dependent, and is most characteristic of human oriented, action-focused, spoken narrative or conversation. In these two discourse genres, which are in some sense prototypical, people tend to talk more about: and actions (rather than states); •
events
real events in real time (rather than imaginary ones); •
accomplished (rather than pending ones); •
events relevantevents at the time of their occurrence (rather than at a later time); •
events in the natural sequence in which they occurred (rather than in a scrambled • sequence). Different discourse genres may show different distributional characteristics. For example, both academic and procedural discourse tend to be oriented toward the habitual tenseaspect, which is a sub-category of both irrealis and imperfective. And oral conversation tends to have a higher ratio of irrealis than oral narrative. As an illustration of these genre differences, consider the distribution of verbal modalities in action-oriented low-brow fiction and in academic writing, summarized in (110) below. The fiction text included both narrative and direct-quoted dialogue. While written, it nevertheless remains fairly close to the oral genre. (110) The distribution of tense-aspect-modality in low-brow fiction and academic text in English11 academic

fiction

category

N

%

N

%

realis-past realis-progressive irrealis habitual perfect/realis

2 / 18 62 7

2 / 20 70 8

74 43 8 / 8

56 32 6 / 6

total:

89

100

133

100

Of some interest is the distribution of tense-aspect-modality in backgrounded and/or subordinate clauses. As an example, consider the high frequency of the perfect and imperfective-participial in subordinate clauses in Early Biblical Hebrew:

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(111) The distribution of tense-aspects in main and subordinate clauses in Early Biblical Hebrew (Givón 1991d) clause type main tense/aspect perfect preterit irrealis participial nominal

N 42 279 41 7 /

subordinate

%

N

%

49.5 100.0 80.4 26.9 /

43 / 10 19 16

50.5 / 19.6 73.1 100.0

total N 85 279 51 26 16

% 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

These distributions suggest, predictably, that the perfective-past (preterit) — the main venue of realis, sequential new information — is confined to main clauses (100%), while irrealis appears predominantly in main clauses (80%). On the other hand, the imperfective-participial appears predominantly (73%) in subordinate clauses (75), while the pastperfect distributes equally in main and subordinate clauses. 6.5.3

Cognitive considerations 6.5.3.1
Modality The status of realis as the unmarked category of modality may be due to both cognitive and socio-cultural factors. Events that have occurred in real time, or are occurring at the time of speech, are cognitively more salient, i.e. more vivid and accessible in the mind, than events that did not occur, or might occur at some future time. Directly experienced states or events are presumably more memorable than unexperienced ones. Information stored in episodic memory about real events — whether due to direct experience or the account of a reliable witness — is more salient, better stored, and retrieved faster than information about potential, hypothetical, future events. The unmarked status of realis may also be due to its higher relevance: Events that did happen, or are happening, are more likely to affect one’s life more than possible, hypothetical, future events. 6.5.3.2
Perfectivity Sharply-bounded, compact, fast-changing events are cognitively more salient. They are thus likely to be better attended to, memorized and retrieved. 6.5.3.3
Sequentiality It is presumably easier to encode, store in episodic memory and retrieve a chain of events that are narrated in a coherent sequence, as compared to an incoherent sequence. The strong preference in human communication toward a sequential order of reported events is most visible in the case of temporal coherence and causal coherence. The strong preference toward both text production and text interpretation is:

Tense, aspect and modality
I

(112) a. Temporal sequence: b. Causal sequence:

333

earlier > later cause > effect

There is, in addition, an inherent temporal bias in complex, coherent human action. Action sequences tend to come in routinized, culturally-shared scripts or schemata. These schemata, as well as the general principles used in constructing them, are part of our permanentlystored, communally-shared knowledge of the physical and cultural universe. Event sequences that violate these schemata are harder to interpret, encode, store and retrieve. Such schemata are so ubiquitous, and permeate our life to such an extent, that we tend to ignore them as we do all presupposed background information. Consider, for example, the normative script of “frying bacon and making a BLT sandwich”. The script is told first in the normative order (113a), then in a scrambled counter-normative order (113b): (113) a. In sequence He took the bacon out of the fridge, cut it, put it in a pan, lighted the stove, put the pan on the stove, fried the bacon to a dark crisp, drained it on a paper towel, and made himself a BLT sandwich. b. Out of sequence ?He fried the bacon to a dark crisp, lighted the stove, put the bacon in a pan, cut it, made himself a BLT sandwich, took the bacon out of the fridge, drained it on a paper towel, and put the pan on the stove. Culturally shared scripts are part and parcel of our lexically coded and permanently stored knowledge of possible entities, states and events, i.e. permanent semantic memory. Such scripts constitute an ever-present constraint on the coherence of text. 6.5.3.4
Relevance There is a strong preference in discourse production toward recounting events in a manner — and order — that unites their relevance-time and occurrence-time. This preference is the human communicative norm, as can be seen from the low frequency of the countersequence perfect in both genres in table (108) — 6%-8%. The relatively few events that are deemed relevant at some other time — say speech-time (‘present perfect’) or some past time after the event (‘past perfect’) — are counter normative, thus marked cases, coded by the off-sequence perfect. It may well be that detaching the event’s relevance-time from its occurrence-time constitutes an added cognitive burden in speech comprehension. In processing an event that occurred earlier (at its natural script-point) but is recounted off-sequence, the hearer may face a more costly speech-processing task. The costliness of this task is perhaps due to the fact that in the processing of off-sequence events, two separate but equally-valid aspects of text coherence come into sharp conflict. The first involves a contingent pragmatic judgement by the specific producer of a specific text at a specific speech situation. The second involves universal semantic choices. The two are: current relevance-point of the event; •
the
the • natural script-coherence of the event.

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In the vast majority of normal (‘unmarked’) cases, these two aspects of text coherence go hand in hand. That is, an event is deemed relevant — and is thus recounted — at its natural script-point (as in (111a) above). But a narrator may also decide that an event is more relevant at some off-sequence point, one that diverges from the event’s natural scriptlocation. When such an option is exercised, the two aspects of text coherence — pragmatic and semantic — are brought into sharp conflict. Such a conflict presumably incurs added cognitive costs.12 6.5.4 The discourse correlates of aspect: Perfective/imperfective vs.

simultaneous/sequential The progressive perspective on an event is often established through bringing the observer onto the scene in the middle of the event, when it is already going on. This is most commonly accomplished by depicting — in an adjacent clause — the entry of a witness onto the scene, as in: (114) a. b. c. d.

When I came in, he was kicking the couch When he looked up, she was blinking her eyes rapidly They saw that he was hitting the door with both hands The police caught them shooting at the house

This juxtaposition of two event-clauses, the one compact and representing the observer’s entry or perspective, the other an event-in-progress, indeed involves a pragmatic dimension of the progressive aspect. The contrast of simultaneous vs. sequential here is ‘pragmatic’ in the sense that it cannot be defined without reference to the clause’s discourse context. As a more explicit illustration of this, compare the two underscored clauses in (115a,b) below, representing the same ‘objective’ sequence of events: (115) a. Bounded past After she came home, he cooked dinner, and they ate and went to bed. b. Progressive past When she came home, he was cooking dinner. Then they ate and went to bed. One could further suggest that the pragmatic feature of simultaneity is implicit even in the single-clause use of the progressive. That is, that a simultaneous point-of-reference is always implicit in the discourse context of a progressive-coded clause. Consider, for example, the typical elicitation of progressive-coded single-clause responses: (116) a. Question (context) What is he doing (now, as we are talking)? b. Response He’s eating supper.

Tense, aspect and modality
I

c. Question (context) What was he doing (then, when you entered the room)? d. Response He was eating supper. The discourse contexts ‘now’ (116a) and ‘when you entered the room’ (116c) establish the temporal reference-point that is simultaneous with the on-going event in the responses (116b) and (116d), respectively. Granted, not all contexts for progressive-marked clauses are as explicit as (116a,c). Nevertheless, it is possible that the seeming absence of the pragmatic feature of simultaneity in isolated progressive-marked clauses is the mere consequence of ignoring their natural discourse context. In connected discourse, the bounded-perfective aspect — as in (115a) — is most typically used to code temporally sequential events. In contrast, the progressive-imperfective aspect — as in (115b) — is typically used to depict events as simultaneous vis-a-vis a contiguous event-clause.

Notes 1. From L’Amour (1962, p. 7). 2. Leonard (1990, pp. 86–87). 3. This overlap in usage between the perfect and perfective-past often leads to the replacement of the perfective-past form by the perfect, with the surviving marker now coding both aspectual functions (cf. spoken French, Modern Hebrew, spoken German dialects). See discussion further below. 4. The valuative-deontic sub-modality has also been called “agent-oriented”; see Bybee et al. (1994), Heine (1995). 5. Donellan (1966) labeled the contrast ‘referential’ (Ref) vs. ‘attributive’ (Non-Ref), taking into account only nominal predicates. But this is only one of the many grammatical contexts where, under the scope of irrealis, this contrast may be found. 6. In the case of the habitual, the real-world pragmatics of the verb-object combination precludes a referring interpretation of ‘a sandwich’. Other verb-object combinations may perhaps allow it. Thus compare: She always washes a car when I drive by (> any car; Non-Ref) (> the same car; Ref) It remains true that a non-referring interpretation is much more natural here, and the referring interpretation is much better conveyed here with a definite object, as in: She always washes her/the car when I drive by 7. The other major clause-type dimension, the active-passive voice distinction, has no particular bearing on modality. 8. This section follows loosely the treatment in Givón (1994b), where further details may be found.

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Syntax

9. This form can be interpreted as a felicitous subjunctive of manipulation, however, with the gloss ‘do come’, ‘please come’ or ‘you may come’. See further below. 10. The examples of the Spanish subjunctive throughout follow loosely Butt and Benjamin (1988), where all examples are derived from written texts. For an extended discussion of the grammar of complementation, see Vol. II, Ch. 12. 11. The academic text was Haiman (1985a, pp. 21–23). The fiction text was L’Amour (1962, pp. 83–85). 12. Current relevance is a pragmatic judgement imposed on the narrated event by a particular speaker, producing a particular text on a particular occasion. Script-coherence, on the other hand, is a generic-lexical property of the event, shared by all interlocutors who are members of the same speech community, and on all occasions. Suppose first that events are stored in episodic memory in the order of their natural script-coherence, i.e. in the natural order of their occurrence regardless of the order of narration. In constructing an episodic memory representation of a narration containing an off-sequence (perfect-marked) event, the speech receiver must reverse the order encoded in working memory (‘short term memory’), where storage is verbatim. That is, the speaker must reposition off-sequence events from working memory into their natural script-coherent order in episodic memory. This assumption seems natural for the following reason: When the current hearer next chooses to retrieve and/or narrate the script, it will be done under different communicative circumstances — a different speaker, hearer, purpose — and thus a different judgement of current relevance. Storing the narration in episodic memory in its natural script-coherent order allows us to retain maximum flexibility in re-telling it under different circumstances later on. What is more, in the vast majority of cases events are narrated in their natural script-coherent order. Suppose instead that events were stored in the hearer’s episodic memory in their narrated order, i.e. according to the speaker’s judgement of their current-relevance. In that case, the orders in working memory and episodic memory would indeed match. The speech-receiver would store events in episodic-memory in an order that was judged by the original speaker to be relevant at that time and under those circumstances. In consequence: (a) The events are now stored in an order that clashes with their generic script-coherence order. (b) When the speech-receiver next retrieves the event from storage, s/he faces a script that must be first re-ordered to regain its natural script-coherence. And (c) the speech receiver’s judgement of current relevance — at this time and in this new communicative context — may be rather different from the original narrator’s judgement. In this new context, episodic storage in verbatim order of narration yields neither script-coherence nor the current relevance.



Chapter 7

Tense, aspect and modality
II Typological organization

7.1

Reorientation In the preceding chapter we dealt with the various functional parameters that underlie the grammar of tense, aspect, modality and evidentiality in language. The morpho-syntactic marking of tense, aspect, modality and evidentiality is often combined together into an overall system that can be and often is extremely complex, the verb inflectional system. Within such an overall system, T-A-M morphology often combines with other verbinflections, such as speech-act markers, clausal conjunctions/subordinators and bound subject and object pronouns (see Ch. 2, §2.5.3.1). Each component of the verb-inflectional system may of itself be widespread and highly universal, in the sense that it grammaticalizes in many or even most languages. But different components of the overall system may arise independent of each other — at different times, through different grammaticalization pathways, following different diachronic dynamics. Sometimes several sub-components arise jointly, sharing part of their diachronic trajectory. This is the case, for example, when a main finite verb that already carries a range of verbal inflections becomes grammaticalized, and consequently pulls its old inflections with it into the complex system, in addition to becoming itself a grammatical marker. What is more, the very same functional sub-components of the complex system may arise through different diachronic pathways. And universally available semantic/pragmatic distinctions may or may not grammaticalize in a particular language, leaving some languages under-grammaticalized and some over-grammaticalized in particular functional domains. The amount of cross-language variation that can arise from such complexity is enormous, making the resulting typology less than predictive, so that it is not entirely a ‘typology’ in the proper sense of the term.1 For this reason, much of the typological discussion in this chapter is, of necessity, incomplete and tentative. Individual components may indeed grammaticalize in highly predictable ways, but the way the whole system is put together — or gerry-built — often bears the footprints of multiple diachronic accidents.2 In spite of this complexity, one must strive, as valiantly as one can, to highlight some of the main typological themes that run as leitmotifs through the complex grammar of tenseaspect-modality.

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7.2

The Creole prototype One of the most distinct T-A-M systems to be found is that of Creole languages. The social history of such languages, whether found in West Africa, the Caribbean basin or Hawaii, is roughly this: A multilingual group of displaced workers or slaves were forced to learn the language of their plantation bosses or slave owners. Being all adult speakers of some other languages, they wound up acquiring a rather rudimentary pre-grammatical Pidgin. The first generation of children born to these Pidgin speakers, receiving only Pidgin linguistic input (lexicon but no grammar), invented the Creole grammar during the course of first-language acquisition (Bickerton 1975, 1976, 1977, 1981; Bickerton and Odo 1976, 1977). Creolization, this seemingly instant grammaticalization, is indeed one of the very few known cases where an entire grammatical system, or at least its major components, arose simultaneously out of pre-grammar. It thus contrasts both with normal first-language acquisition in which an approximation of adult grammar is acquired in interaction with adult input, as well as with the more normal diachronic process of protracted, piecemeal grammaticalization. The order of Creole T-A-M markers — auxiliaries — vis-a-vis the verb reflects, to quite an extent, universals of semantic or pragmatic scope of the kind suggested by Bybee (1985). To some extent also, the choice of the particular sub-domains for early grammaticalization, remarkably uniform across Creoles, reflects more clearly universal adaptive priorities in the grammaticalization of T-A-M sub-domains. This is so because grammaticalization in ‘normal’ languages, with a long, cumulative history of diachronic change, is a piecemeal process of replacement, depending on the differential erosion and decay of older grammatical constructions. We will illustrate the T-A-M system of Creoles with data from Hawaii English Creole. As in the standard Creole T-A-M system, three marked auxiliaries contrast with the unmarked (zero) verb form (Givón 1982c; following Bickerton 1975, 1977, 1981): (1) T-A-M markers in Hawaii English Creole marker

value

discourse function

Ø stay go(n) bin

perfective imperfective irrealis perfect

sequential simultaneous counter-sequence, anterior

The contrast between the perfective-sequential zero-marked form and the bin-marked perfect-anterior is illustrated in (courtesy of D. Bickerton, tape K-22, side 2): (2) a. b. c. d. e.

…I go out of the way, I fix that dog up — that dog bin come nice an’ fat, all the hair bin grow — I spray-im with malathion an’ all,

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f.

I bring-im down the beach… ‘…So I went out of my way, I fixed that dog up — the dog had become nice and fat, all his hair had grown back — I sprayed him with malathion, I brough him down to the beach…’

Predictably, the out-of-sequence bin-marked perfect crops up rather frequently in subordinate clauses, which are by definition off-sequence (Ch. 18, §18.2), as in (tape B-152, p. 43 of transcript): (3) a. Verb-complement …main thing I get some receipt, ey, showin’ that I bin pay-im… ‘…the main thing is, I got some receipt, hey, showing that I had paid him…’ b. Adv-clause …because y’know, the time I bin go to borrow money… ‘because you know, the time when I had gone to borrow money…’ c. Rel-clause …the vinyl he bin show me… ‘the vinyl that he had shown me…’ The use of the irrealis auxiliary go/gon in a number of irrealis context may be seen in (ibid): (4) a. Future-in-past …the guy say he gon fix me up with, da kine, vinyl floor… ‘…the guy said he was going to fix me up with that kind of vinyl flooring…’ b. Past conditional …that’s two hundred somethin’ dollar I can save if he gon get-im for me… ‘…that’s two hundred or so dollars I could save if he was going to get it for me…’ c. Imperative …but the guy tell the Mescan boy: Go ask the guy for downpayment…’ ‘…but the guy told the Mexican boy: Ask the guy for downpayment…’ The use of the imperfective stay in a number of contexts can be seen in (ibid): (5) a. Past habitual/repetitive …I don’ know, he stay come in… ‘…I don’t know, he kept coming in…’ b. Present/habitual copula …I no blame-im tho, he stay in business, no?… ‘…I don’t blame him though, he is in business, isn’t he?…’ c. Progressive/potential …so I bump into-im, he tell me: Yeah, stay come, stay come… ‘…so I bumped into him and he told me: Yes, it’s coming, it’s coming…’

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d. Habitual/progressive …so the Mescan guy, he stay work for me… ‘…so the Mescan guy kept/was working for me…’ The combinatorial order of the T-A-M auxiliaries in most Creole language is fixed as: (6) (perf) (mod)

(dur)

V

Various possible combinations in Hawaii English Creole may be seen in (after Bickerton 1975; see also ibid): (7) a. Mod-Dur-V …what I save from the house rent, I go stay pay… ‘…whatever I save from the house-rent, I will keep paying…’ b. Perf-Dur-V …you know where we bin stay go before?… ‘…you know where we had been going before…’ c. Perf-Mod-V …ah, I say, I bin go order, see… ‘…uh, so I said, I had been meaning to order, you see…’ d. Perf-Mod-Dur-V …no, shit, I go bin stay figure only about twenty… ‘…no, shit, I would have been figuring on only about twenty…’ The relatively universal rigid order of Creole T-A-M auxiliaries may reflect a universal of progressively wider scope: — narrowest (verb/action) scope; •
durative — wider (clause) scope; •
modal
perfect — widest (cross-clausal, discourse) scope. • Such ordering reflects a well-known iconicity universal (Bybee 1985; Givón 1985a):

•
The narrower the scope of an operator, the closer it will tend to appear to its operand. 7.3

T-A-M auxiliaries and their grammaticalization As noted earlier (Ch. 5, §5.5.3), T-A-M morphemes arise almost universally from modalaspectual main verbs that grammaticalize — become ‘operators’ on — and eventually cliticize to their complement — ‘operand’ — verbs. In serial-verb languages, such modalaspectual verbs often do not cliticize at all, or do not cliticize on their proper ‘operand’ verbs, for reasons that have little to do with their function as T-A-M markers. In embedding languages, modal-aspectual verbs most commonly first become auxiliary verbs, carrying all finite verbal morphology. Their ‘operand’ complement verbs, to which auxiliaries eventually cliticize, take some non-finite form devoid of most verbal

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inflections. As noted earlier, when auxiliary verbs do cliticize, they tend to pull all their finite verbal inflections with them into the new verbal word (Heine 1993). As an illustration of the two extreme stages in the life of auxiliary verbs, consider the contrast between the fully cliticized future suffix in Spanish (8a), derived historically from the post-verbal auxiliary ‘have’ in its deontic obligation sense, with the more recently grammaticalized pre-verbal perfect-marking auxiliary ‘have’ (8b): (8) a. Future suffix ‘have’ lo-ver-é ‘I’ll see it’ lo-ver-ás ‘you’ll see it’ lo-ver-á ‘s/he’ll see it’ lo-ver-emos ‘we’ll see it’ lo-ver-án ‘they’ll see it’ b. Perfect auxiliary ‘have’ lo-h-é visto ‘I have seen it’ lo-h-ás visto ‘you have seen it’ lo-h-á visto ‘s/he has seen it’ lo-h-émos visto ‘we have seen it’ lo-h-án visto ‘they have seen it’ In the initial stage, that of complementation, the object pronoun can appear as either a suffix on the non-finite complement verb, as in (9a) below, or as a prefix on the main verb, as in (9b) below or (8b) above: (9) a. quier-o ver-lo want-pres/1sg see/inf-it ‘I want to see it’ b. lo-quier-o ver it-see-pres/1sg see/inf ‘I want to see it’ Auxiliaries may be thus viewed as a transitory diachronic morpho-syntactic stage, spanning the gap between complement-taking main verbs (9) and T-A-M affixes (8a).

7.4

The expansion of tense In addition to the three main divisions of tense (past, present, future), some languages display finer sub-divisions of past and future tense according to temporal distance from the reference point (most commonly time-of-speech). As an illustration of this, consider the T-A-M system of Bemba (Bantu), where four concentric temporal sub-divisions exist in both the past and future. In most past and future tenses, an added contrast of perfective vs. imperfective (durative) can also be marked. And two of the past tenses also allow a marked perfect aspect. Thus (Givón 1972):

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(10) Past tenses a. Before yesterday (i) Perfective: ba-à-boomb-ele 3pl-rem-work-perfv ‘they worked’ (ii) Durative: ba-à-léé-boomba 3pl-rem-dur-work ‘they were working’ (iii) Perfect: ba-à-lí-boomba 3pl-rem-work ‘they have worked’ b. Yesterday (i) Perfective: ba-á-líí-boomb-ele 3pl-rec-work-perfv ‘s/he worked’ (ii) Durative: ba-á-léé-boomba 3pl-yest-dur-work ‘they were working’ c. Earlier today (i) Perfective: ba-àcí-boomba 3pl-tod-work ‘they worked’ (ii) Durative: ba-àcí-láá-boomba 3pl-tod-dur-work ‘they were working’ (iii) Perfect: náá-ba-boomba perf-3pl-work ‘they have worked’ d. Within 3–4 hours: ba-á-boomba 3pl-immed-work ‘they (have) just worked’ (11) Present/habitual a. Repetitive: ba-là-boomba 3pl-rep-work ‘they repeatedly work’ b. Durative: ba-léé-boomba 3pl-dur-work ‘they are working’ c. Impending: ba-cílíí-boomba 3pl-impnd-work ‘they are not yet working’

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(12) Future tenses a. Within 3–4 hours (i) Perfective: ba-áláá-boomba 3pl-immed-work ‘they will work’ (ii) Durative: ba-ákùláá-boomba ‘they will be working’ b. Later today:

ba-léé-boomba 3pl-tod-work ‘they will work’

c. Tomorrow (i) Perfective: ba-kà-boomba 3pl-fut-work ‘they will work’ (ii) Durative: ba-kà-láá-boomba 3pl-fut-dur-work ‘they will be working’ d. After tomorrow (i) Perfective: ba-ká-boomba 3pl-remfut-work ‘they will work’ (ii) Durative: ba-kà-láá-boomba 3pl-remfut-dur-work ‘they will be working’

7.5

The scope-of-assertion aspect The T-A-M system of Bemba reveals another aspectual contrast, that of scope of assertion. Five contrastive pairs of this aspect distribute unevenly in the non-future divisions of the system. What is at issue here is whether the verb itself is or isn’t included under the scope of asserted new information. As an illustration, contrast the remote perfect (10a)(iii) above, recapped as (13a) below, in which the verb falls under the scope of assertion, with its counterparts (13b–e) in which the verb is excluded, i.e. treated as presupposed information. The respective contexts within which the two types of assertion are transacted highlight their scope difference (Givón 1975b): (13) a. V-included Context: What did they do? Response: ba-à-lí-boomba 3pl-rem-incl-work ‘they worked’

344 Syntax

b. V-excluded Context: How (hard) did they work? Response: ba-à-boomba saana 3pl-rem-work hard ‘they worked hard’ c. V-excluded Context: Where did they work? Response: ba-à-boomba mu-mushi 3pl-rem-work in-village ‘they worked in the village’ d. V-excluded Context: When did they work? Response: ba-à-boomba bulya bushiku 3pl-rem-work that day ‘they worked the day before yesterday’ e. V-excluded Context: Who worked? Response: abakashi ba-à-boomba women 3pl-rem-work ‘the women worked’ The scope-of-assertion focus phenomenon is not a mere wild piece of exotica. There is indeed is a strong general tendency in language to make optional clausal constituents the default focus of assertion, following the pragmatic inference that (see Ch. 8, §8.4): optional information is added to the clause, it must be the focus of the new •
Ifinformation. What one sees in Bemba as well as in a number of other Bantu languages is the grammaticalization of this universal tendency. The verb-excluding focus aspect in (13b–d) cannot be used when the verb is the only word on the verb phrase. This is so because the subject is typically the continuing topic and thus presupposed and excluded from the scope of asserted new information. A singleargument verb such as ‘work’ would render its clause ungrammatical when appearing by itself: (14) *ba-à-boomba 3pl-rem-work When the verb has obligatory objects, the aspectual focus contrast is similar, with the verbexcluding variant placing the direct or indirect object under the scope of assertion:

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(15) a. V-included Context: What did they do? Response: ba-à-lí-soma icitabo 3pl-rem-incl-read book ‘they read the book’ b. V-excluded Context: What did they read? Response: ba-à-soma icitabo 3pl-rem-read book ‘they read the book’ c. V-included Context: What happened then? Response: ba-à-lí-isa ku-mushi 3pl-rem-incl-come dir-village ‘they came to the village’ d. V-excluded Context: Where did they come then? Response: ba-à-isa ku-mushi 3pl-rem-came dir-village ‘they came to the village’

7.6

Perfective/imperfective-based systems In many languages, indeed in whole language families (Tibeto-Burman, Athabaskan), the entire T-A-M system is assembled around the main distinction between perfective and imperfective. All other T-A-M elaborations are then done as further markings of these two basic forms of the verb. The most general scheme of such further elaborations is then: past, perfect, past-progressive; •
Perfective: •
Imperfective: present-progressive, future, habitual. We will illustrate this perfective/imperfective-based system with data from Tolowa Athabaskan. In this language, the older Athabaskan perfective-imperfective suffixal contrast has been supplanted, for most verbs, by a contrast between the invariant ‘basic’ stem-form (imperfective) and its augmentation by various perfective prefixes. The old suffixal contrast survives only in a small group of irregular verbs, where suffixal changes parallel the alternation between the ‘basic’ stem-form (imperfective) and its prefixation (perfective). Thus (Bommelyn 1997; Givón 2000a):

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(16) Irregular verb stems in Tolowa Athabaskan imperfective

perfective

meaning

-’a -sri -na -yu -’u =sh -’a -tí¸sh -sru =sr -lesh/lu =sh -łe -tesh -tu =sh -tu =n -ł-tí¸ -shi -le ‘become’ -su =ł -tu =n -li -yu =n -tu =ł -ne ‘say’ -da -yu -lesh -’í¸ -ni -na -mish -k’wu =sr -yił -tu =sh

-’a¸ -srí¸ -na’ -yu’ -’u =¸ -’a¸ -ta¸ -sru =’sr -la -łek -tí¸sh -ti¸ -ta¸ -ł-tí¸’ -shí¸ -lí¸ -seł -ta¸ -li’ -yu =n’ -tał -nu =n -t’a -yu’ -ya -’í¸’ -ni’ -na’ -mi¸sh -k’wu =’sr -ya¸ -ti¸

‘speak’ ‘do/make’ ‘drink’ ‘wear beads’ ‘be’ (V-cl; compact sg. obj) ‘have’ (V-cl; compact sg. obj) V-cl (rigid/long obj) V-cl (loose matter) V-cl (composites) V-cl (liquid) V-cl (animate prone) ‘take to’ (V-cl; anim. obj.) ‘stir’ (V-cl; long obj) ‘find’ (V-cl; anim. obj) ‘call/name’ ‘be’ ‘throw’ ‘stir up/whistle’ ‘tie knot’ ‘sing’ ‘travel hard’, ‘kick’ ‘tell’ ‘sit’ ‘wear beads’ ‘build fire’ ‘see’ ‘advise’, ‘help’ ‘be well’, ‘undulate’, ‘flop’ ‘hang’ ‘hang’(tr.) ‘grow’ (intr.) ‘carry’ (a person)

The pattern of suffixal alternations in (16) may be reconstructed into two old suffixes (Givón 2000a): : -n or -’ •
perfective
imperfective : -sh or -ł • In active verbs that still preserve the old perfective-imperfective suffixal alternation, the primary T-A-M contrast is then as in, for example:

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347

(17) a. Imperfective ‘u =-sh-tł-tu =ł th-1sg-l-kick/impfv ‘I kick it’ (habitual) ‘I am kicking it’ (progressive) b. Perfective s-ii-ł-tał perf-1sg-l-kick/perfv ‘I kicked it’ (perfective past) Other T-A-M elaborations are then added as suffixes to the imperfective form of the verb, and involve primarily either imperfective of irrealis elaborations, as in: (18) a. Imperfective naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’a adv-ap-2sg-talk b. Imperfective participial naa-ch’í¸i¸-’aa-du =n adv-ap-2sg-talk-part c. Habitual past naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-nu =m adv-ap-2sg-talk-hab d. Progressive past naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-la adv-ap-2sg-talk-prog e. Iterative naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-srí¸ adv-ap-2sg-talk-iter f. Future naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-te adv-ap-2sg-talk-fut g. Emphatic future naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-wáa-te adv-ap-talk-emph h. Conditional naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-de’ adv-ap-2sg-talk-cond i. Obligative naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-he’-na adv-ap-2sg-talk-oblig j. Modal naa-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-tée-wu =n adv-ap-2sg-talk-mod

‘you talk’

‘while you talk/are talking…’

‘you used to talk’

‘you were talking’

‘you talk a lot’

‘you will talk’

‘you will definitely ‘talk’

‘if you talk…’

‘you must talk’

‘you would talk’

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k. Modal na-ch’-í¸i¸-’aa-daa-wa ‘you might talk’ adv-ap-2sg-talk-mod l. Hortative na-’-’aa-le’ ‘let him talk’ adv-ap-talk-hort m. Past-imperfective na-’-s-’a¸a¸-la ‘he was talking’ adv-ap-perf-talk/perf-imperf As can be seen, at least one suffixal elaboration (18m) is added to the perfective form, rendering it past-imperfective (in active verbs).

7.7

A four-way dichotomy In Early Biblical Hebrew, a rather rudimentary T-A-M system is organized around the four-way contrast shared by three aspectual forms, two of which then share the functional load of the fourth category, irrealis:

•
perfective: •
perfect: •
imperfective: •
irrealis:

preterit past (sequential); past-perfect (off-sequence, inverse); present-progressive, habitual; future, conditional.

The most common venue for perfective-past narrative is the preterit (prefixal conjugation),3 used to mark sequential continuity of action, as in (see also Givón 1991d): (19) va-yis’’u me-Rfidim va-yavo’u midbar Sinay and-3pl/travel from-Rfidim and-3pl/came desert/of Sinai ‘and they travelled from Refidim and entered the Sinai desert va-yahnu » sham, va-yahen » sham Yisra’el and-3pl/camped there and-3sg/camp there Israel and camped there, and the Israelites camped there neged ha-har… against/of the-mountain and camped there against the mountain’ (Exodus, 19:2) The perfect, a much less frequent aspect, alternates with the preterit in carrying the perfective-past load under two closely-related conditions of discontinuity:

•
off-sequence: •
topic switching:

temporal discontinuity (off sequence); referential discontinuity (inverse).

The use of the perfect in topic switching is illustrated in (20) below, a direct continuation of the narrative in (19) above:

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(20) …u-Moshe ’ala ’el ha-’elohim va-yikra’ and-Moses ascend/perf/3sg toward the-God and-called/3sg ‘…And Moses acended toward God and called out…’ (Exodus, 19:3) The first verb in (20) is cast in the perfect, marking the switch from ‘the people of Israel’ to ‘Moses’. The second verb, with Moses now the continuing topic, reverts back to the preterit. The use of the perfect to mark off-sequence clauses is seen most clearly in subordinate clauses. Thus, in the relative clauses in (21) below, the continuous, sequential narrative is rendered in the preterit-marked main clauses, while the two Rel-clauses depict prior, offsequence events: (21) Relative clauses va-yxal ’elohim b-a-yom ha-shvi’i mla’xt-o and-finish/3sg God on-the-day the-seventh work-his ‘And God finished on the seventh day all the work ’asher ’asa, va-yishbot b-a-yom ha-shvi’i sub do/perf/3sg and-rested on-the-day the-seventh that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day mi-kol mla’xt-o ’asher ’asa from-all work-his sub do/perf/3sg from all the work that he had done’ (Genesis, 2:2) Similarly in (22) below, where off-sequence information is lodged in a ‘because’ Adv-clause, contrasting with the sequential information in the preceding main clauses: (22) Adverbial clause ve-xol siah» ha-sade t» erem yihye b-a-’arets, and-all bush/of the-field not-yet was/pret/3sg on-the-earth ‘and all the wild bushes were not yet on the earth, ve-xol ’esev ha-sade t» erem yitsmah, » and-all grass/of the-field not-yet grew/pret/3sg and all the wild grass had not yet grown, ki-lo’ himtir » YHWH ’elohim ’al ha-’arets because-neg rain/perf/3sg Jehova God on the-earth for God had not yet rained upon the earth’. (Genesis, 2:5) This example also conflates the features of off-sequence and topic-switching. Likewise in (23) below, where off-sequence information is lodged in verb-complement clauses, again contrasting with the preterit-marked sequential narrative in the preceding main clauses, and again conflating off-sequence and topic-switch: (23) Verb complement a. va-yo’mer ’elohim l-a-’isha: ma zo’t ’asit… and-said/pret/3ms God to-the-woman what this do/perf/2fs ‘and God told the woman: “What is it that you have done?”

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va-to’mer ha-’isha: ha-nahash » hisi’a-ni and-said/3fs the-woman the-snake trick/perf/3ms-me so the woman said: “The snake had tricked me va-’oxel and-1sg/eat/irr into eating’ (Genesis, 3:13) b. va-yar’ ve-hine harvu » pney ha-’adama and-saw/pret/3ms and-lo dried.up/perf/3pl face/of the-earth ‘and he saw that, lo, the surface of the earth had dried up’ (Genesis, 8:13) The two imperfective sub-aspects, progressive and habitual, are conflated in EBH into one form, the nominal-participial, historically a subject nominalization and by extension also an adjectival form. The more precise valuation of the imperfective is then read off the marked tense-aspectual context: (24) a. Progressive (past) va-yishm’u ’et-kol ha-’eohim and-heard/pret/3pl acc-voice/of the-God ‘and they heard the sound of God mithalex b-a-gan walk/particp/3masc.sg in-the-garden walking in the garden’ (Genesis, 3:8) b. Habitual va-yivra’ ’elohim ’et-ha-taninim ha-gdolim and-created/pret/3masc.sg God acc-the-whales the-big ‘and God created all the big whales ve-’et-kol nefesh ha-haya ha-romeset and-acc-all spirit/of the-live/nom/fem.sg the-slither/nom/fem.sg and all the living souls that slither’ (Genesis, 1:21) c. Imperfective (past) ve-nahar yotse’ me-’eden la-hashkot ’et-ha-gan and-river exit/nom/masc.sg from-Eden to-irrigate acc-the-garden ‘and a river (was) coming/comes out of Eden to water the garden’ (Genesis, 2:10) The functional domain of irrealis in EBH is split, rather surprisingly, between the two past forms of the verb. The most common irrealis form is marked by the preterit (prefixal conjugation), which may represent a historical merger of two distinct earlier conjugations, realis and irrealis.4 The irrealis sub-functions marked by the prefixal conjugation are future, simple conditional, hortative, permissive and others. In (25a) below, for example, the very same verb-form of ‘be’ is used in two capacities, first as the irrealis-hortative, then immediately afterwards as the preterit-past:

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(25) a. Hortative va-yo’mer ’elohim: yhi ’or. and-said/3masc.sg God 3masc.sg/be/irr light va-yhi ’or and-was/pret/3sg light ‘and God said: “let there be light”. And there was light’ (Genesis, 1:2) b. Permissive mi-kol ’ets ha-gan ’exol to’xel from-all tree/of the-garden eating 2masc.sg/irr/eat ‘from all the trees of the garden you may eat’ (Genesis, 2:16) c. Future-modal ’e’’se l-o ’ezer ke-negd-o 1sg/irr/make dat-him help loc-side-his ‘I shall make him a help-mate’ (Genesis, 2:18) d. Future-in-past va-yave’ ’el ha-’adam li-r’ot and-brought/pret/2masc.sg to the-man to-see ma yikra’ lo what 3masc.sg/irr/call dat-it ‘and he brought (them) to Adam to see what name he would call them’ (Genesis, 2:19) e. Future-modal ve-hu’ yimshal b-ax and-he 3masc.sg/irr/rule over-you/2fem.sg ‘and he shall rule over you’ (Genesis, 3:16) Finally, the preterit and perfect forms split the irrealis conditional domain, where the perfect often marks the subjunctive of lower-certainty: (26) a. Predictive preference ’al-ken ya’’azov ’ish ’et-av-iv on-thus 3masc.sg/irr/leave man acc-father-his… ‘for this reason a man shall leave his father… ve-davaq be-’isht-o and-stick/perf/3masc.sg to-wife-his so that he might stick to his wife ve-hayu le-basar ’ehad » and-be/perf/3pl dat-flesh one so that they would become one flesh’ (Genesis, 2:24) b. Dire consequences ki be-yom ’axal-xem mimen-o ve-nifqhu » for on-day/of eating-your from-it and-open/perf/3pl ‘for on the day you eat from it, your eyes would open,

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’eyney-xem ve-hayitem ke-’elohim eyes-your and-be/perf/2masc.pl like-God and you would become then like God’ (Genesis, 3:5) c. Subjunctive conditional ve-’ata pen yishlah» yad-o ve-laqah» and-now if 3masc.sg/irr/send hand-his and-take/perf/3masc.sg ‘and now if he sent his hand and took (fruit) me-’ets ha-Hayim ve-’axal ve-hay » from-tree/of the-life and-eat/perf/3masc.sg and-live/perf/3masc.sg from the tree of life and ate (it) and lived le-’olam dat-world forever’ (Genesis, 3:22) The use of past or perfect forms to code the subjunctive will be discussed further in §7.10 below.

7.8

The conflation of perfect, durative and immediate As noted in Ch. 6 (§6.3.3), the present progressive, present perfect and immediate aspects share a common feature — focus on the time of speech. In the present progressive, the event itself is occurring at the time of speech. In the present perfect, the event may have occurred earlier but is relevant at the time of speech. In the immediate aspect, a past event is presented as if it is occurring in front of one’s eyes — at the time of speech. A shared feature need not imply shared or identical morphology, but at least in one language this is the case. In Ute (Uto-Aztecan), the T-A-M system distinguished first between realis and irrealis, with the latter marked in most grammatical contexts by the suffix -vaa-. Thus (Givón 1980): (27) a. Future wú == u ka-vaa-ni work-irr-fut ‘(I) will work’ b. Non-implicative modality verb complement wú == u ka-vaa-ch ’asti-kya work-irr-nom want-perf ‘(I) want to work’ c. Non-implicative manipulation verb complement ’uway wú == u ka-vaa-ku may-kya 3sg/acc work-irr-nom tell-perf ‘(s/he) told him/her to work’

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d. Hortative wú == u ka-vaa-ram(i)! work-irr-du/incl ‘let’s (you and I) work!’ e. Intentional or uncertain wú == u ka-vaa-ch work-irr-nom-1sg ‘(s/he) intends/is about to work’ ‘maybe (s/he) is working’ f.

Counterfact wú == u ka-vaa-ka-t(u =) work-irr-perf-nom ‘(s/he) should/could/would have worked (but didn’t)’

g. Predictive wú == u ka-vaa-p(u =) work-irr-nom ‘he may/might/could/should work’ Sequential information in the perfective/past — realis — can be given in two aspects, the remote or the immediate. The remote aspect, with the suffix -pu =ga, codes events as if they are done, finished and viewed from a long distance. The immediate aspect, with the suffix -y, codes past events as if they happen in front of one’s eyes, from near by. Thus compare: (28) a. Remote wíitu =s ’ura-pu =ga, Sinawav ’ura-pu =ga, past be-rem S. be-rem ‘…it was long time ago, there was Sinawav, mu =i-ta-s ’um(u =) wicici-u núuci-u ’ura-qa-pu =ga early-par-conj they bird-pl human-pl be-pl-rem and in those early days the birds were still human. ’u-vway ’uwas-’ura máy-pu =ga… there-loc he-top say-rem So then he (Sinawav) said…’ b. Immediate nu =-’ura kani-naagh-tux yu =ga-y, I-top house-in-to enter-imm ‘…So I go into the house, mamachi-’ura máay pu =nikya-y, woman/acc-top that/vis/acc see-imm and I see this woman, máas-’ura ma-vaa-t(u =) ’avi-i, s/he-top there/vis-loc-nom lie-imm and she’s lying right there,

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máay-’ura máy-kh(i)… that/acc-top say-imm so I tell her…’ A salient feature of the use of the immediate to code past events is the use of the visible deictic ma- ‘that/visible’ as the pronoun of the definite article in (28b), contrasting with the use of the invisible deictic ’u- ‘that/invisible’ in the remote-coded (28a). The immediate aspect is also used as the present progressive in Ute, in appropriate contexts: (29) Context: Response:

What are you doing now? (over the phone) tu =ka-yi-n eat-imm-I ‘I’m eating’

The immediate aspect is also used in Ute in context calling for the present perfect in English, as in: (30) Context: Response:

Would you like to eat? kaci-n, wíitu =s tu =ka-y neg-I already eat-imm ‘No, I’ve already eaten’

Finally, a marked perfect suffix can be used to code either off-sequence past events (pluperfect) or simple past for isolated clauses.5 In its former capacity, this suffix can combine with either the remote or immediate aspect. Thus note the modifications of (28) above: (31) a. Remote wíitu =s ’ura-pu =ga, Sinawav ’ura-pu =ga, past be-rem S. be-rem ‘…it was long time ago, there was Sinawav, mu =i-ta-s ’um(u =) wicici-u núuci-u ’ura-qa-pu =ga early-par-conj they bird-pl human-pl be-pl-rem and in those early days the birds were still human. ’uwas-’ura ’umu = máy-kya-pu =ga… he-top those/acc say-perf-rem He (Sinawav) had already told them (the birds)…’ b. Immediate nu =-’ura kani-naagh-tux yu =ga-y, I-top house-in-to enter-imm ‘…So I go into the house, mamachi-’ura máay pu =nikya-y. woman/acc-top that/vis/acc see-imm and I see this woman.

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ma-vaa-t(u =) ’avi-kya-y, there/vis-loc-nom lie-perf-imm She has been lying there…’

7.9

The grammaticalization of modality As noted earlier (Ch. 6, §6.4.3), the distribution of propositional modalities across grammatical environments is highly predictable on universal grounds. Of the main four modalities, realis is the universal unmarked category, thus the least likely to display grammaticalized marking, being merely the default or ‘elsewhere’ modal category. At the other extreme, negation is the most highly marked modality, whose fairly uniform grammaticalization in all languages would be hardly surprising (see Ch. 8). The two modalities whose grammaticalization pattern is of more interest are thus presupposition and irrealis assertion.

7.9.1

Marking presupposed vs. asserted information Relatively few languages have grammaticalized the distinction between presupposition and realis-assertion. This is presumably because of the rather predictable distribution of presupposition in highly specific grammatical environments — restrictive relative clauses, cleft-focus clauses, wh-questions, complements of factive verbs, past/perfect-marked adverbial clauses. Nevertheless, some languages can grammaticalize this modal distinction. We have already noted one relevant case above, that of the assertion-focus aspect in Bemba (§7.5). A special aspectual marker is used in this language (as well as in some other Bantu languages) to code clauses in which the verb is excluded from the scope of assertion and is instead part of the presupposed information (together with the clause’s subject). Presuppositional clauses in Bemba allow only this verb-excluding aspect, but not its counterpart which marks the verb as part of the asserted new information in the clause. In some Papuan languages in the New Guinea highlands, the clause-chaining system tags all presupposed or backgrounded clauses with a special marker, and then restricts them to chain-initial positions (see Ch. 18, §18.3.2.3). As an example, consider Chuave, where backgrounded clauses that translate into English as either Adv-clauses, restrictive Rel-clauses, V-complements or ‘topic clauses’ share the same non-finite suffix, originally a nominalizer, and are restricted to the chain-initial position (Thurman 1978): (32) a. Imperfective Adv-clause ne iki-num moi-n-g-i you house-2sg be-2sg-nom-def ‘While you are in your house, teu u-na-y-e there come-irr-1sg-decl I’ll come over there’

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b. Perfective Adv-clause kan-i-k-a-i see-I-nom-perf-def ‘When I looked, kiapu guwai-nom-i muruwo furuwai-bei officer thing-3sg-that all scatter-do/decl they were scattering all the officers’ things about’ c. Rel-clause gan moi-n-g-u-a child be-3sg-nom-3sgo-perf ‘The child who is here, Gomia tei awi d-o Gomia there send leave-imp send him to Gomia!’ d. V-complement kasu di-in-g-a lie say-there-nom-perf ‘That they told a lie fai-ke-m-a right-neg-3sg-emph is not right’ In another Papuan Highlands language, Menya, the verbal morphemes that mark modality do not quite correspond to the clean four-way modal division we have seen thus far. At first glance, a special prefix marks realis (strong) assertions. Negation is marked by another prefix, but the negated verb is then nominalized, and another — finite — verb in the clause is now the main verb. And that verb is in turn marked by the realis-assertion prefix. Irrealis is then left as the unmarked category. Thus consider (Whitehead 1985): (33) a. Realis (strong assertion), perfective i-qu a-n-t-q-i that-3sg ass-1sg.o-say-perf-3sg ‘He (just) spoke to me’ b. Realis (strong assertion), progressive i-qu a-i-q-i that-3sg ass-do-perf-3sg ‘He is working’ c. Neg-assertion i-quaa ta-qi maa-pamaa-q-a ass-j-ng-a that-3pl this-loc neg-be-nom ass-put-perf-3pl ‘They are not here’

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d. Irrealis (habitual) ye quaaipa ta-u w-e-nqa-i 1sg straight this-loc go-1sg/irr-goal-ind ‘We go along this straight place’ e. Irrealis (future) nyi aanga mat-m-ni-nqa 1sg house build-1sg/irr-?-goal ‘I will build a house’ f. Irrealis (modal) i-quaa manga q-p-nqa that-3pl axe rub-3pl/irr-goal ‘they would shape the axe-head’ The main grammaticalized modal distinction in Menya thus seems to distinguish strong assertions (realis, negation) from the two other modes. This simple picture, however, dissolves under further scrutiny. To begin with, irrealis clauses can also take the strong assertion prefix — but only in manipulative irrealis clauses. The use of the strong assertion prefix thus switches the value of an irrealis clause from epistemic to deontic. In this vein, the prefix-less normal imperative can be contrasted with the seemingly stronger 1st or 3rd person exhortation, as in (Whitehead 1985): (34) a. Imperative quaama pamaa-p seated be-2pl/irr ‘(you-all) sit down!’ b. Imperative maaqa-na w-t quick-fcs go-2sg/irr ‘(you) go quickly!’ c. Exhortative ne aanga naaqa-nanga hun-qu a-mat-aa-na 1pl house big-very one-3sg ass-build-1pl/irr-qt ‘Let’s build a very big house!’ d. Hortative i-quaa quaama a-paama-p that-3pl seated ass-be-3pl/irr ‘Let them sit!’ Finally, there are some indication that the strong assertion prefix also marks presupposed clauses in Menya, at least in some grammatical contexts. For example, one finds it in perfective wh-questions, as in: (35) a. yaqueeqa i-qu ta-qu a-pak-k-qaqa-wa? pig that-3sg this-3sg ass-hit-perf-3sg-q ‘Who killed the pig?’

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b. aka-gi a-u-quaatamau-k-nga-i wh-loc ass-3obj-leave-perf-2sg-ind ‘Where did you leave him?’ Likewise, the strong-assertion prefix also marks at least one type of perfective yes/noquestions, those indicating a strong bias — i.e. presupposition — toward the affirmative alternative, as in: (36) i-qu yaaqueqa a-pak-k-qaqa-taa that-3sg pig ass-hit-perf-3sg-ynq ‘Didn’t he kill the pig?’ As we shall see later on (Ch. 17), yes/no-questions are most commonly presuppositional, in the sense that the speaker has a strong bias toward either the affirmative answer (in one pattern) or the negative one (in another). Grammaticalized modality-marking in Menya seems to group together clauses of high epistemic certainty, including realis assertions, negation, and various presupposed clauses — all in the perfective/past. Within this grouping, negation and questions require further marking, while realis remains the least marked. The very same prefix, however, can switch its modal value from epistemic to deontic, and mark stronger manipulative (irrealis) clauses. This sharing of a modal marker of higher strength between the epistemic and deontic sub-modes is reminiscent of the sharing of the grammaticalized subjunctive, a marker of lower strength, in the modality system of many languages (see §7.9.3 below). 7.9.2 Split vs. uniform marking of irrealis It has been suggested (Bybee et al. 1994) that irrealis is not a universal grammatical category, because many languages do not have a unified morphology to mark all irrealis context. The argument seems flawed on a number of grounds. First, in typology and grammaticalization, one seldom makes predictions that require all possible functional domains to grammaticalize to the highest degree. Indeed, one major cross-language typological distinction is that of degree of grammaticalization of particular functional domains, with Pidgin languages displaying the lowest level in all domains. At best, typological predictions specify that if a domain will be grammaticalized, the available sources of grammaticalization are highly predictable, and some sub-parts of the domain are more likely to grammaticalize before others. Second, the whole rationale of cross-language typology hinges on the facts that different languages can grammaticalize the very same functional domain differently — and from different diachronic sources. In the case of irrealis, we have already noted that it distributes predictably in multiple grammatical contexts. This means that, at least in principle, all languages thus possess multiple sources for grammaticalizing irrealis, so that the process may proceed in a non-uniform fashion, sub-domain by sub-domain. Third, since the distribution of irrealis in its multiple grammatical contexts is highly predictable, the need for uniform grammaticalization in all grammatical context is to some extent less than urgent, and would indeed be surprising.

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Nevertheless, there are some languages, indeed whole language families, in which the vast majority of irrealis grammatical contexts share a single morphological marker. We have already seen one example, Ute (§7 above), where many though not all irrealis clauses across the grammar are marked by the same suffix, -vaa/-paa. The morphological unification of irrealis across the grammar is thus a matter of degree. Austronesian is one language family in which most irrealis clauses share a morphological marker, and can be then further marked for other distinctions, as can also realis clauses. Indeed, the realis-irrealis modal distinction is the major dichotomy in the Austronesian T-A-M system, and all other tense or aspect distinctions are secondary elaborations added to it. This pattern may be illustrated with data from Bikol (Philippine), interpreted here as a nominative language. The main distinction in Bikol verbal prefixes, which conflate grammatical voice and modality, is between realis and irrealis. Both the perfective/past and the progressive/present share the realis prefix nag-. The progressive is then further marked by first-syllable reduplication. Realis subordinate clauses display the same nag- prefix as realis main clauses. Thus (M. Factora, i.p.c.): (37) a. Perfective/past nag-bakál ‘ang-lalake ning-libro r/agt-buy nom-man acc-book ‘the man bought a book’ b. Progressive/present nag-ba-bakál ‘ang-lalake ning-libro r/agt-red-buy nom-man acc-book ‘the man is buying a book’ c. Complement of implicative modality-verb na-tapus ‘ang-lalake na nag-bakál ning-libro r/pat-finish nom-man sub r/agt-buy acc-book ‘the man finished buying a book’ d. Complement of implicative manipulation-verb nag-pirít ang-lalake sa-babaye na nag-bakál ning-libro r/agt-make nom-man dat-woman sub r/agt-buy acc-book ‘The man forced the woman to buy a book’ e. Complement of factive cognition-verb aram kang-lalake na nag-bakál ‘ang-babaye ning-libro know obv-man sub r/agt-buy nom-woman acc-book ‘the man knows that the woman bought a book’ f.

Realis Adv-clause kang nag-digdi ako, nag-karigos ako when r/agt-come I r/agt-swim I ‘When I came (here), I took a swim’

In contrast, most irrealis clauses share the prefix mag-. Thus compare:

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(38) a. Future mag-bakál ‘ang-lalake ning-libro irr/agt-buy nom-man acc-book ‘the man will buy a book’ b. Subjunctive-imperative (polite) mag-bakál ka ning-libro irr/agt-buy you acc-book ‘Buy a book!’ c. Hortative mag-ba-ra-kál kita manga-libro irr/agt-buy-pl we acc/pl-book ‘Let’s (all) buy books!’ d. Non-implicative modality-verb complement muyá na mag-bakál ’ang-lalake ning-libro want sub irr/agt-buy nom-man acc-book ‘the man wants to buy a book’ e. Non-implicative manipulation-verb complement nag-sabí ’ang-lalake sa-babaye na mag-bakál ning-libro r/agt-tell nom-man dat-woman sub irr/agt-buy acc-book ‘the man told the woman to buy a book’ f.

Non-factive cognition-verb complement na-’isíp kang-lalake na mag-bakál ’ang-babaye ning-libro dat-think obv-man sub irr/agt-but nom-woman acc-book ‘the man thought that the woman bought a book’

g. Irrealis Adv-clause kung mag-igdí ako, mag-karigos ako if irr/agt-come I irr/agt-swim I ‘If I come (here), I’ll take a swim’ A fairly similar grammatical distribution of a single irrealis marker, also covering the habitual, has been described in another Austronesian language, Fijian (Dixon 1988). A similarly wide distribution of a single irrealis marker, also covering negative clauses, has been reported for Caddo and Northern Iroquois languages (Chafe 1995). Finally, the entire Mixtecan family in Mexico displays a similar wide distribution of a single irrealis prefix, also covering negative clauses (Bradley and Hollenbach (eds 1988, 1990, 1991, 1992). 7.9.3

Unified vs. split subjunctive We have seen earlier above (Ch. 6, §6.4.4.2) two languages, English and Spanish, in which similar grammatical forms mark both the epistemic and deontic sub-domains of the subjunctive; that is, the irrealis range of lower certainty or weaker manipulation. But a language can also grammaticalize the two sub-modes distinctly. As an illustration of this,

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consider Bemba (Bantu). In this language, one suffix codes the deontic subjunctive of weaker manipulation, which in manipulative speech-acts contrasts with the stronger imperative (Givón 1971b): (39) a. Imperative (stronger command) isa! come/imp ‘Come! b. Subjunctive (weaker command) mu-is-e you-come-subj ‘You should/must come’. c. Subjunctive (hortative) a-is-e! he-come-subj ‘Let him come!’ ‘He must/should come’. In complements of manipulative verbs, the contrast between the subjunctive and infinitive forms renders the very same contrast, with the presence vs. absence of the manipulee object pronoun supplying further gradation. Thus, with the strong manipulative verb ‘force/ order’ (Givón 1971b): (40) a. Infinitive complement (implicative) n-à-mu-koonkomeshya uku-ya I-rem-3sg.obj-force/order inf-go ‘I forced him to leave’. (> He left) b. Subjunctive complement with pronoun (non-implicative) n-à-mu-koonkomeshya (ukuti) a-y-e I-rem-3sg.obj-force/order (sub) he-go-subj ‘I ordered him to leave’. (> He may or may not have left) c. Subjunctive without pronoun (weaker) n-à-konkomeshya ukuti a-y-e I-rem-decreed sub he-go-subj ‘I ordered that he should leave’. (> He may or may not have left) Similarly, with a weaker manipulative such as ‘tell/‘say’ (Givón 1971b): (41) a. Infinitive complement n-à-mu-ebele uku-ya I-rem-3sg.obj-tell inf-go ‘I told him to leave’

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b. Subjunctive complement with raising n-à-mu-ebele (ukuti) a-y-e I-rem-3sg.obj-tell (sub) he-go-subj ‘I told him that he should leave’. c. Subjunctive complement without raising n-à-ebele ukuti a-y-e I-rem-say sub he-go-subj ‘I said that he should leave’. An altogether different form, the verbal prefix nga- or -inga-, marks the epistemic subjunctive of lower certainty in Bemba, a form that appears in irrealis conditional clauses and in complements of low-certainty cognition verbs (Givón 1971b): (42) a. Future (indicative) Peta a-kà-isa Peter he-fut-come ‘Peter will come’ b. If-clause (subjunctive) Peta nga-a-kà-isa… Peter subjun-he-fut-come ‘If Peter should come…’ c. Subjunctive verb complement n-déé-twiishika nga Peta a-inga-isa I-pres-doubt sub Peter he-subjun-come ‘I doubt that/if Peter would come’ d. Past-subjunctive verb complement n-à-twiishika nga Peta a-inga-isa I-rem-doubt sub Peter he-subjun-come ‘I doubted that/if Peter would have come’ 7.9.4 The use of perfective markers in subjunctive forms The use of perfective — past or perfect — morphemes in the marking of subjunctive clauses is widely attested but at first glance somewhat puzzling. The subjunctive is a quintessential irrealis sub-mode, while past and perfect are quintessential realis sub-modes. In English, this phenomenon is seen in two related developments. First, in the use of the past-form of main verbs or auxiliaries to mark the subjunctive of low-certainty in ‘if’-clauses: (43) a. If you told them the real story, they would understand. b. If you were to tell them the real story, they would understand. Second, in the historical shift of the past forms of the modals to non-past subjunctive use (Bybee 1992). This shift has made it possible to have an epistemic contrast between the two

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363

modal forms, with the old past form now signalling the epistemic subjunctive of lower certainty: (44) present modal (higher certainty)

‘past’ modal (lower certainty)

She may be there She can be there She will be there I shall return soon

She might be there She could be there She would be there I should return soon

The same directionality in gradation can also be shown in some of the deontic uses of English modals, as in: (45) a. Present form (more assertive) You can leave right away. b. Past form (less assertive) You could leave soon, right? c. Present form (more assertive) You may do it right away. d. Past form (less assertive) You might consider doing it eventually. e. Present form (weaker manipulation) You shall go. f.

Past form (stronger manipulation) You should go.

In the same vein, Lunn (1995) describes the historical development of the -ra past subjunctive suffix in Spanish, tracing it back to an earlier past-perfect function. A similar invasion of the past tense into the marking of low-certainty conditional clauses has been described in Swahili (Salone 1983). And we have already noted (§7.7 above) the use of the past-perfect form as a subjunctive of lower certainty in Early Biblical Hebrew. Given the widespread use of erstwhile perfective markers to code subjunctives, an explanation is indeed in order. The one that comes to mind most readily is the connection with counter-fact clauses. Such clauses, so it seems, tend to be universally marked by a combination of irrealis and either past or perfect. Thus, in Hawaii English Creole (Bickerton 1975, 1981): (46) …I bin go give-am downpayment… …I perf irr give-him down-payment ‘…I would have given him a down-payment [had the guy asked]…’ Or in English, where modals and the perfect ‘have’ are combined to mark counter-fact clauses:

364 Syntax

(47) a. If she had come on time, I would have waited. b. Had she come on time, I would have waited. A similar development has taken place in Israeli Hebrew, pressing into service the past form of the auxiliary ‘be’: (48) im hi hayta roa oto, if she was/perf/3sg.fem see/imperf/fem.sg him ‘If she had seen him, hi hayta ozevet. she was/perf/3sg.fem leave/imperf/fem.sg she would have left.’ Likewise, in Early Biblical Hebrew the perfect was probably the only available verb-form to mark counter-fact clauses. This usage can be seen in the story of Abraham’s nearsacrifice of his son Isaac. God, after intervening at the very last minute, commends Abraham as follows: (49) ki ’ata yada’-ti ki yre’ elohim ’ata sub now know/perf-1sg sub fear/nom/masc.sg/poss God you ‘…because now I have learned that you fear God, ve-lo’ hasax-ta » ’et-bin-xa yehid-xa » mime-ni conj-neg spare/perf-2sg.masc acc-son-your lone-your from-me Ï ¸

would not have spared

that you Ì ˝ your only son from me…’ (Gen., 22:12) that you

had not spared Ó ˛ Likewise in Spanish, the very same past-subjunctive form with the suffix -ra, an erstwhile pluperfect, is used in counter-fact clauses, most commonly with the perfect auxiliary ‘have’, as in: (50) Si hubiera venido, me habría quedado. if have/3sg/past/subj come 1sg have/cond stayed ‘If he had come, I would have stayed’ In Uto-Aztecan languages, the use of past/perfect markers in counter-fact clauses is widespread (Steele 1975). Thus, in Ute one finds the perfect-anterior suffix -ka/qa- in both main and subordinate counter-fact clauses (Givón 1980): (51) náagh-su =-ni ta’wa-ci ’uwa-y picu =-kay-ku, maybe-conj-mod man-gen that-gen arrive-ant-sub ‘If the man had arrived (but he didn’t), mamach ’u magha-qa-t-’u woman/nom det/subj feed-ant-nom-him the woman would/could have fed him’. Often, the perfect combines in Ute with an irrealis suffix -vaa in counter-fact clauses:

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(52) ’uwas-’uru wú =¸= u ka-vaa-qa-t ’ura-’ay s/he/subj-top work-irr-ant-nom be-imm ‘s/he should/would/could have worked’ (but didn’t) But the remote-past can also combine with irrealis to the same effect: (53) ’uwas-’uru wú =¸= u ka-vaa-pu =ga-t s/he/subj-top work-irr-rem-nom ‘s/he should/would/could have worked (long ago)’ (but didn’t) Finally, James (1982) in her cross-linguistic survey of this phenomenon — the use of past or perfect forms to mark counter-fact clauses — shows it to be widespread in many unrelated languages and language families. The diachronic data, whenever available, tends to point toward a highly specific hypothesis about the pathway of grammaticalization of perfective, counter-fact and subjunctive markers. The grammaticalization pathway exploits the continuum between realis-indicative, simple irrealis, subjunctive-irrealis and counter-fact, as in, for example, English adverbial clauses: (54)

highest epistemic certainty a. Realis When she came, he left b. Irrealis-when When she comes, he will leave c. Irrealis-if If she comes, he will leave d. Subjunctive, past-modal If she should/would/could only come, he would leave e. Subjunctive, past If she came, I would give her anything! f. Counter-fact If she had come, I would have left lowest epistemic certainty

If the past or perfect did penetrate this paradigm initially at point (54f) — the beach-head of counter-fact — then its spreading upward to points (54e,d) is but one more instance of gradual subsequent extension from the initial beach-head along the functional continuum of grammaticalization. The three main steps in this gradual analogical extension may be summed up in the hypothesis: (55) Hypothesis: Invasion of perfective forms into the subjunctive modal domain a. past/perfect fi counter-fact b. counter-fact fi past subjunctive c. past subjunctive fi subjunctive

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The best support for hypothesis (55) should of course come from the implicationalhierarchic distribution of realis forms in these three main contexts, where one should then make the following prediction: (56) Predicted implicational-hierarchic distribution “Whenever one finds a realis form marking a subjunctive of low certainty (55b), one always finds that form also marking counter-fact clauses (55c); but not necessarily vice versa”. Finally, one must reiterate that perfective forms do not enter this paradigm alone at the counter-fact beach-head, but rather combine there with some irrealis marker. Or, as Bybee (1995) aptly notes: “…It is not the past tense alone that is contributing the hypothetical meaning, but rather the past in combination with a modal verb, a subjunctive mood, a hypothetical marker (such as ‘if’)…” (1995, p. 514)

7.10

The grammaticalization of evidentiality A brief note concerns the grammaticalization of evidentiality. As noted earlier above (Ch. 6, §6.4.5), the grammatical marking of evidentiality often intersects with that of epistemic modality. The most likely sources of evidential morphology are various main verbs that take complements, such as ‘see’, ‘hear’, ‘say’, ‘know’, ‘guess’, ’suppose’, ‘suspect’, ‘think’ or ‘be’. In this vein, one may view colloquial English constructions such as (57) below as early stages of such grammaticalization: (57) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i. j. k. l.

(I) guess she didn’t show up (inferential) I hear she’s coming tomorrow (hearsay) She’s upped ’n left, they say (hearsay) She’s upped ’n left, I hear (hearsay) (I) see he’s left (inferential) (I) reckon they’re out of business (inference) (I’m) ’fraid she’s gone (disclaimer) It’s not working, y’now (apology) He might not agree, (you) understand (disclaimer) (You’d) think he’d still be here… (counter-fact) (Let’s) suppose I gave you a coconut… (low probability) I understand she’s here (inference)

More advanced stages of this process in Iroquois languages, with many erstwhile main verbs grammaticalizing on their complement verbs, have been described in Mithun (1986).

Tense, aspect and modality
II

7.11

367

Primary vs. secondary grammaticalization of T-A-M One must finally note that the grammaticalization of T-A-M categories is a gradual, multistep development. Structurally, it proceeds along the rather familiar route of cliticization: main verb > auxiliary > clitic > affix > inflection Semantically, a surprisingly small group of source verbs grammaticalize first as either aspect or modality markers, a stage that may be considered their primary grammaticalization. Only later, if at all, do they undergo secondary grammaticalization into tense markers. The cross-linguistically most common pathways of T-A-M grammaticalization are (Givón 1971a, 1973a, 1975a, 1979a; Heine 1993; Bybee et al. 1994): (58) Grammaticalization pathways of T-A-M markers lexical source

primary target

secondary target

want, go, can, must, need, have(to) have, finish, come stay, stand, sit live, sleep, continue, (be)

irrealis

future

perfect, perfective imperfective

past

(be +) nominal

imperfective

present, habitual

present, habitual

Notes 1. As noted in Chapter 1, the more cross-feature predictions can be derived from a typology, the more useful the typology is, with the least-useful typology being one that simply lists all possible types but makes no implicational-hierarchic predictions about feature association. This is a general problem for all taxonomies and categorization schemata. 2. The systematicity and predictability of the resulting overall verbal morphology can be easily overstated, as was probably the case in Bybee (1985); see discussion in Givón (2000a). 3. The perfective-preterit has been erroneously labeled as ‘imperfective’ by traditional grammarians. It conflates most perfective-preterit and most irrealis functions (see §7.7 below). 4. For most verbs, the two prefixal conjugations are near identical. However, a few verbs still preserve slight phonological differences between the realis/preterit and the irrealis uses of this conjugation. 5. An isolated clause may be viewed as off-sequence by definition. In short-burst face-to-face dialogs about past events, the -ka-marked perfect seems to function as a preterit/past marker. 6. For a more extensive treatment of clause-chaining, see also Vol. II, Ch. 18.



Chapter 8

Negation

8.1

The multiple facets of negation In our earlier discussion of propositional modalities (Ch. 6, §6.4.2) we noted that negation was one of the four traditional epistemic modalities, but then deferred further discussion to this chapter. The status of Neg-assertion among the other epistemic modalities is murky, depending on which property one focuses on. The three most common perspectives are: logic; •
truth-conditional
subjective certainty; •
communicative pragmatics. •

8.1.1

Negation and propositional logic In terms of truth value, Neg-assertion occupies the extreme end on the scale of the old Aristotelian propositional modalities: = taken for granted to be true (necessary truth); •
presupposition strongly asserted to be true (factual truth); •
R-assertion=
IRR-assertion asserted as to be true (possible truth); •
NEG-assertion==weakly strongly asserted to be not true (falsity). • That is: (1) Ranking of epistemic modalities by truth value presupposition > R-assertion > IRR-assertion > NEG-assertion Philosophers have traditionally considered negation only in terms of its truth value; that is, as a logical operator that merely reverses the truth-value of a proposition. This may be captured in the strict rules of logic: (2) a. NEG(NEG-P) = P b. If P is true, then not-P is not true (and vice versa) Rule (2a) allows for the NEG-operator to cancel itself without any effect on the proposition (P) under its scope. Rule (2b) is the celebrated law of the excluded middle that de-legitimizes logical contradictions.

370 Syntax

The logical properties of negation are indeed reflected in language, but only up to a point, since negation in language goes considerably beyond logic. As a simple illustration, consider: (3) a. b. c. d.

I am happy I am not happy I am unhappy I am not unhappy

According to the logic of (2a,b), expressions (3a) and (3d) are synonymous, as are (3b) and (3c). In fact, however, (3d) signals an intermediate state of happiness, somewhere between (3a) and (3b) or (3c). As for (3b) and (3c), while both negate (3a), they are not identical in meaning. Obviously, more than just logic must be at issue. 8.1.2

Negation and subjective certainty When one considers subjective certainty or strength of assertion, the four propositional modalities re-cast themselves differently. Both NEG-assertion and R-assertion turn out to be equally strong assertions, i.e. used in psychological context of high certainty and high evidential support. They thus contrast with both presupposition, where a proposition is not asserted but rather taken for granted, albeit with strong or even stronger certainty, and IRR-assertion, where a proposition is only weakly asserted. In terms of subjective certainty, then, the four modalities may be ranked as: (4) Ranking of epistemic modalities by subjective certainty


R-assertion Ï 
¸ presupposition > Ì 
˝
> IRR-assertion
NEG-assertion Ó 
˛

8.1.3

The communicative pragmatics of negation When one turns to the communicative pragmatics of negation, that is, to the communicative context in which NEG-assertions are used, yet a third picture emerges. Consider first the two possible responses to a rather broad question of information: one affirmative (5), the other negative (6). (5) A: –What’s new? B: –My wife is pregnant. A: –Congratulations! (6) A: –What’s new? B: –My wife isn’t pregnant. A: –Gee, was she supposed to be? The negative assertion in (6) is indeed bizarre in this context, and elicits a baffled response, one that indicates that something was amiss in the presupposed — shared information — background vis-a-vis which the assertion was transacted. What is missing is, of course, the shared background of the corresponding affirmative — My wife is pregnant. Negative

Negation

371

assertions are typically made on the tacit assumption that the hearer either has heard about, believes in, is likely to take for granted, or is at least familiar with the corresponding affirmative. It is clear that the notion of presupposition relevant to the discussion here is pragmatic rather than logical. Otherwise, one would be claiming that NEG-assertions assert the falsity of one proposition (NEG-P) while presupposing the truth of its logical oppsite (P), a rank logical contradiction. The corresponding affirmative that is pragmatically presupposed in the use of NEG-assertions may be established explicitly in the preceding discourse, as in: (7) Background: Joe told me he won $10,000.00 in the lottery, NEG-assertion: though later I found out he didn’t. In (7), it is the speaker who sets up the expectation of the corresponding affirmative, then contradicts it with the negative. But the corresponding affirmative as background may also be contributed by one’s interlocutor, as in: (8) Background: A: I understand you’re leaving tomorrow. NEG-assertion: B: No, I’m not. Who told you that? The speaker may also rely, in assuming background expectations, on specific knowledge about the hearer’s state of affairs or state of mind. To illustrate this, consider the felicity of the three responses to the NEG-assertion in (9): (9) A: B (i): (ii): (iii):

So you didn’t leave after all. No, it turned out to be unnecessary. Who said I was going to leave? How did you know I was going to?

Response (9i) suggests that the B (‘hearer’) is going along with A’s (‘speaker’s’) presupposition of the corresponding affirmative as shared background. Response (9ii), on the other hand, suggests that the B believes the A must have been misled. And in response (9iii), B registers surprise at how the information leaked out to A, by inference thus conceding that A indeed had it right. The presupposed background associated with a NEG-assertion can also be traced to generic shared information. To illustrate this, consider: (10) a. b. c. d.

There was once a man who didn’t have a head. ?There was once a man who had a head. ?There was once a man who didn’t look like a frog.

There was once a man who looked like a frog.

The reason why the negative in (10a) is pragmatically felicitous is because it reports a break from the norm. The reason why (10b) is pragmatically odd is because it merely echoes the norm, and thus harbors a tautology. Conversely, the negative in (10c) implies a tautology that merely re-phrases the norm, and is thus pragmatically odd. While the affirmative (10d) breaks the norm, and is thus pragmatically felicitous. Now, if one happened to live

372

Syntax

in a universe where men had no heads, or where they most commonly resembled frogs, both felicity contrasts in (10) would be reversed. In terms of the communicative pragmatics of presupposition, then, the four epistemic modalities may be grouped in yet a third way: (11) Communicative pragmatic and epistemic modalities Ï presupposition ¸
 Ì
NEG-assertion ˝ > R-assertion > IRR-assertion Ó ˛ 8.1.4

Negation as a speech-act The contrast between the background assumptions of affirmative and negative assertions may now be summarized as follows: The hearer does not know, the speaker knows. •
AFF-assertion: •
NEG-assertion: The hearer knows wrong, the speaker knows better. NEG-assertion is thus a distinct speech-act, used with different communicative goals in mind than affirmative assertions. In using a NEG-assertion, the speaker is not in the business of communicating new information to the hearer. Rather, s/he is in the business of correcting the hearer’s misguided beliefs.

8.2

The cognitive status of negation

8.2.1

Change vs. stasis From a cognitive perspective, an event is a change in an otherwise inert universe. It is our informal experience of a law of physics — inertia — that motivates the assignment of positive (vs. negative) status to events (vs. non-events) in our construed experience. The distribution of the two is strongly skewed: i.e. NEG-events, is the more-frequent norm. •
Stasis,
Change, i.e. events, is the less-frequent counter-norm. • An event is the cognitively salient figure. It stands out against the ground of stasis. The strong skewing in the frequency distribution of events vs. non-events in our construed experience guarantees that events, the figure, should be more informative than non-events. This definition of information in terms of frequency distribution, i.e. predictability, is the cornerstone of information theory. Negative speech-acts may be viewed as a pun or play on the norm. They are used when — more rarely in communication — one establishes the event rather than stasis as the ground. On such a ground, the non-event now becomes — temporarily, locally — salient, more informative. NEG-assertions are indeed much less frequent in discourse. This is illustrated in the

Negation

373

following table, comparing the frequency distribution of negative and affirmative clauses in two English texts, one fiction, the other non-fiction. (12) Frequency distribution of affirmative and negative clauses in written English (Givón 1979a: Ch. 3) clause type affirmative genre academic fiction

negative

totall

N

%

N

%

N

%

96 142

95 88

5 20

5 12

101 162

100 100

The higher frequency of NEG-clauses in the fiction text in (12) may be significant, perhaps having to do with the fact that fiction contains conversational interaction, in which the perspective of several speakers alternates. The shift of perspective is a natural venue for valuative conflict and epistemic disagreement. In contrast, non-fiction is written from the perspective of a single person, whose goal and knowledge-base are likely to be more uniform. 8.2.2 The ontology of negative events The interplay between norm and counter-norm in the use of negation may be illustrated with a number of simple examples. Consider first: (13) a. b. c.

A man came into my office yesterday and said… *A man didn’t come into my office yesterday and said… ?Nobody came into my office yesterday and said…

The non-event (13b) is pragmatically — indeed grammatically — the oddest. This must be so because if an event did not occur at all, why should one bother to talk about a specific individual who ‘participated’ in that non-event? While seemingly more acceptable, (13c) is still pragmatically less likely. This is so because the norm of one’s everyday routine is not ‘all people visit my office at all times’, but rather ‘most people don’t ever visit my office at all’. Visits to one’s office are thus much more rare than non-visits, which makes them more salient than non-visits. On the background norm of non-events, the event reported in (13a) is indeed informative, thus pragmatically more felicitous. Consider next: (14) a. The man you met yesterday is a crook. b. ?The man you didn’t meet yesterday is a crook. Normally, one meets a limited number of men in a given day. So, to identify a person by an event — coded in the relative clause in (14a) — is indeed informative, salient, an apt way of

374

Syntax

distinguishing him from the zillion men you did not meet that day. Given this norm, (14b) is indeed pragmatically odd — unless the figure-ground relations were reversed, as in: (15) You were supposed to meet four men yesterday. Three showed up, the last one never did. Against the new ground established in (15), the non-event in (14b) now becomes salient, informative, pragmatically felicitous. Next, consider: (16) a. Where did you leave the keys? b. ?Where didn’t you leave the keys? In general, wh-questions like the ones in (16) are presuppositional (see Vol. II, Ch. 17). That is, the entire clause excepting the wh-pronoun is taken to be background information. The affirmative (16a) is pragmatically felicitous because normally there are a zillion possible places where your keys have not been left, but only one place (at a time) where they have actually been left. For this reason, the negative (16b) is pragmatically bizarre. Even supposing that the background expectations were somehow reversed, say with: (17) I didn’t leave my keys anywhere question (16b) would remain odd. This is so because, given that a potentially infinite number of places would qualify for the correct answer, the purpose of asking — to elicit a specific location response — cannot be fulfilled. Indeed, (16b) is only pragmatically felicitous as an echo question. Negative echo questions are used roughly in the following context: One has heard a NEG-assertion but has somehow missed a component of that assertion. In such a context, (16b) may be felicitous. Consider next: (18) a. When John comes, I’ll leave. b. ?When John doesn’t come, I’ll leave The affirmative (18a) is felicitous because the particular time when John comes is unique and can be specified, but the zillion times when John doesn’t come — all non-events — cannot. The negative (18b) is thus odd — unless one modifies the figure-ground relations, as in: (19) I waited and waited there. Finally, when John didn’t come, I left. What makes the negative ADV-clause ‘when John didn’t come’ in (19) felicitous is that it establishes a unique reference point, the time by which John did not come. Once such a unique point is specifiable, the use of the NEG-time-adverb clause becomes felicitous. Consider next the oddity of negative comparative clauses: (20) a. b. c. d.

She ran as fast as he did. ?She ran as fast as he didn’t.

She didn’t run as fast as he did. ?She didn’t run as fast as he didn’t

Negation

375

e. f. g. h.

He’s as tall as she is. ?He’s as tall as she isn’t

He isn’t as tall as she is. ?He isn’t as tall as she isn’t

Apparently, negation is barred from the standard of comparison portion of comparative clauses. This is so presumably because the standard normally involves some level of performance above the absolute zero. Under certain conditions, it is of course possible to make the absolute zero the standard of comparison, as in: (21) a. Something is better than nothing b. Being is better than non-being But these are clearly marked, abstract patterns involving neither specific events nor referring subjects. Thus compare: (22) a. Abstract To win is better than to not win b. Specific (VP negation) ?She won better/faster than she didn’t win c. Specific (lexical antonym) She won better/faster than she lost The felicity of (22c) is due to the fact that lose, while a paired antonym of win, is not an overtly-negated predicate, thus not merely the absence of winning. 8.2.3

The ontology of negative states Example (22c) above brings into question the cognitive status of paired antonymic adjectives. In such pairs, one member denotes the presence of a property (positive), the other its absence (negative), a contrast that need not involve an overt negative marker. The assignmemnt of polarity in antonymic pairs is far from an arbitrary reversal of truth value. Rather, strong evidence suggests that the bias between the two members is linguistically real and cognitively well motivated. On the linguistic side first, the negative member behaves as the marked, restricted case, denoting only the extreme negative pole on the scale. The positive member, on the other hand, behaves as the unmarked case, denoting the entire scale. This is evident from the asymmetry in acceptable responses to questions: (23) a. Unmarked (positive) question How tall is she? b. Positive-pole response Very tall.

376

Syntax

c. Negative-pole response Very short. d. Marked (negative) question How short is she? e. *Positive-pole response *Very tall. f.

Negative-pole response Very short.

In the same vein, the nominalized positive member — length, width, height, thickness, health — is the generic term for the entire scale. The nominalized negative member, on the other hand — shortness, narrowness, lowness, thinness, sickness — is the restricted term for only the lower portion of the scale. In cognitive terms, there are strong grounds for suggesting that the systematic bias here is rooted in cognitive salience, whereby the positive members of antonymic pairs represent, rather consistently, the perceptually more salient pole. Thus consider: (24) positive big long tall wide fat/thick high light/bright fast loud high sharp heavy rough spicy

negative

perceptual property

small short short narrow thin low dark slow quiet low dull light smooth bland

ease of visual perception ” ” ” ” ” ” (rate of change) ease of auditory perception ” ease of tactile perception ” ” ease of olfactory perception

On the ground of the perceptually less-salient lower end of the scales in (24) (absence), the figure at the upper end (presence) stands out as informative, very much as on the ground of non-events (stasis), events (changes) stand out as informative. In addition, it has also been shown that the positive members of antonymic pairs are processed faster (Clark 1969) and learned earlier by children (Clark 1971).

8.3

Negation and social interaction As noted above, NEG-assertion is a contrary speech-act, a denial of the interlocutor’s presumed belief. One would thus expect its use to be extremely sensitive to the relative social position of the interlocutors. For example, when one’s interlocutor is perceived to be

Negation

377

of higher status, one would tend to tone down one’s disagreement, and couch contrary opinions in a variety of softening devices, some of which are well-known sub-modes of irrealis as, for example: (25) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

Quite, quite. Yes, I see. I see what you mean. I suppose you got a point there. Perhaps not quite so. Perhaps you may wish to consider an alternative. Well, I’m not sure about that, maybe… Now if it were up to me, I would suggest…

In more traditional societies, including small-town America, overt NEG-assertions are considered rude, and seem to be less frequent than in an academic environment. In such societies of intimates, open disagreement and contrariness is a disruptive social force, and various indirect means are used to avoid direct NEG-assertions (Givón and Young 2001). As an illustration of this, consider the following passage from a novel depicting small-town life. The passage involves a disagreement about facts, and a subsequent negotiation of reality between two friends, Mrs. Phillip J. King and Momma. The substantive issues being negotiated are boldfaced below. The various irrealis sub-modes used, as stand-ins for negation, are given in italics. (26) NEG-avoidance in the negotiation of reality (T. R. Pearson 1985, pp. 191–192) “…Mrs. Phillip J. King said he had been dashing, but Momma would not go along with dashing and said to her mind he had been not unattractive, but Mrs. Phillip J. King couldn’t see fit to drop all the way from dashing to not unattractive, so her and Momma negotiated a description and arrived at reasonably good looking, which was mutually agreeable though it seemed for a minute or two that Mrs. Phillip J. King might hold out to have the reasonably struck from the official version. But Momma went on to tell her how she thought his nose had a fanciful bend to it which distracted Mrs. Phillip J. King away from the reasonably because, as she told Momma back, she had always thought his nose had a fanciful bend to it herself. Mrs. Phillip J. King called it a Roman nose and she said there wasn’t anything uppity or snotty about it but it was purely a sign of nobility. And Momma said he certainly carried himself like a Roman, which sparked Mrs. Phillip J. King to wonder if maybe he hadn’t come from Romans, if maybe that wasn’t why he was a Republican. But Momma said she recalled he was a notable Democrat. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said, “Maybe he was”. And Momma said she believed so. And Mrs. Phillip J. King said “Maybe he was” again…I was not present when Mrs. Phillip J. King decided she couldn’t let reasonably good looking rest peacefully and resurrected the whole business with the argument that a moustache under that fancifully bent nose would have most certainly made for dashing. But Momma could not see clear to allow

378

Syntax

for a moustache since there had not been one actually; however, Mrs. Phillip J. King insisted that if Momma could just imagine a finely manicured and dignified Douglas Fairbanks-style moustache under that Roman nose then all of the rest of the features would surely come together and pretty much scream Dashing at her. But even with a moustache thrown in Momma could not sit still for any degree of dashing though Mrs. Phillip J. King campaigned rather fiercely for Considerably Dashing and then Somewhat Dashing and then A Touch Dashing, so Momma for her part felt obliged to retreat some from reasonably good looking and her and Mrs. Phillip J. King settled on passably handsome with Mrs. Phillip J. King supplying the handsome and Momma of course supplying the passably…” Somewhat paradoxically, negation itself, when combined with other irrealis operators, can be used as a softening device in the face of perceived higher authority. This toning-down function of negation seems to apply to both epistemic and manipulative modalities. Thus consider: (27) a. Won’t you come in please? (> Do come in) b. I suppose he isn’t done yet. (> I wonder if he’s done) c. I don’t suppose he’s done yet? (> I wonder if he’s done) d. Wouldn’t it be better if… (> It would be better if…) e. I suppose you couldn’t spare a fiver… (> I wish you could) f. Wouldn’t you want to buy one? (> I would like you to buy one) Negation as a toning-down device is most commonly coupled with some irrealis operator, such as modal, subjunctive, conditional, yes/no-question or irrealis adverbials. The two examples of overt negation used in the truth-negotiation in (26) above were both of this type: (28) “…to wonder if maybe he hadn’t come from Romans, if maybe that wasn’t why he was a Republican…”

8.4

The scope of negation

8.4.1

Presupposition, assertion and negation When a proposition — packaged as a clause — is negated, its logical truth value is reversed, so that rather than being asserted as true it is now asserted as false. But the effect of negation on propositions in natural language is of course more complex. Most typically,

Negation

379

only a portion of a negative proposition falls under the scope of negation, while the rest is shielded. The portion of the clause that is shielded from the scope of negation is its presupposed part. Consider first examples (29), (30) and (31) below. In each case, the main clause is affected by negation, but the subordinate clause, being presupposed, is not. In (29b), the shielded proposition is a restrictive REL-clause: (29) a. She saw the man who stood in the corner (> He stood in the corner, and she saw him) b. She didn’t see the man who stood in the corner (> He stood in the corner, but she didn’t see him) In (30b) the proposition is a verb complement: (30) a. I’m sorry he’s sick (> He’s sick, and I’m sorry about it) b. I’m not sorry he’s sick (> He’s sick, but I’m not sorry about it) In (31b), the shielded proposition is an ADV-clause: (31) a. Running out of gas, she stopped (> She was running out of gas, and she stopped) b. Running out of gas, she didn’t stop (> She was running out of gas, but she didn’t stop) The most common variant of negation, the one we have dealt with so far, is verb phrase negation. In this type of negation, the subject is most typically excluded from the scope of negation, and may indeed be considered as part of the presupposed portion of the clause. Thus consider: (32) The King of France didn’t eat his supper Logicians used to insist that the negative (32) has two interpretations, (33a) and (33b) (Keenan 1969): (33) a. Narrow interpretation (subject excluded) There is a king of France, and he didn’t eat his supper. b. Wide interpretation (subject included) There is no king of France, therefore it makes no sense to say that he didn’t eat his supper. Most speakers of English, however, would find it hard to assign interpretation (33b) to the negative clause (32), more so because there are much more natural alternative forms that code such an interpretation, such as: (34) a. There is no king of France b. No king of France ate his supper c. Nobody ate their supper

380 Syntax

The noun–phrase negation used in (34) above will be discussed further below (§8.6.3). The intuition that VP-negation (32) is not used to convey the same interpreted as subject-NP negation (33b) or (34) can be tested by looking at the frequency distribution of negation forms in English text. In one such study (Givón 1979a: Ch. 3), all the negative clauses in a narrative fiction text were collected and divided into three categories: subject excluded from NEG-scope; •
VP-negation,
VP-negation, subject included under NEG-scope; •
Subject-NP negation. • The frequency distribution of these three categories is reported in (35) below. (35) Distribution of negative forms (and interpretations) in an English narrative text (MacDonald 1974, pp. 49–70) VP negation subj excluded

VP negation subj included

subj-NP negation

total

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

60

89

/

/

7

11

67

100

The frequency distribution recorded in (35) suggests that none of the instances of VP-negation allowed the inclusion of the subject under the scope of negation. When the writer wanted to accomplish that, the only syntactic form he used was NP-negation. 8.4.2 Negation and contrastive focus In addition to typically excluding the subject, VP-negation can be — and often is — used to further narrow down the portion of the clause that falls under NEG-scope. A common way of doing this is by combining VP-negation with contrastive stress on constituents in the clause, to yield focused negation (see Vol. II, Ch. 15). In such constructions, the focused constituent is the only one falling under NEG-scope. The rest of the clause is presupposed. As noted above, VP-negation typically excludes the subject, and thus most commonly applies to the verb phrase only. Such negation may be considered the widest-scoped type, and can be now compared with various types of narrower-scoped — focused — negation, as in: (36) a. Neutral VP-negation John didn’t kill the goat (> He did not kill the goat) b. Subject focus John didn’t kill the goat (> Someone else killed it, but not John)

Negation

381

c. Object focus John didn’t kill the goat (> He killed something, but not the goat) d. Verb focus John didn’t kill the goat (> He did something to the goat, but not kill it) The same focused negation can be affected by combining contrastive stress with a construction called cleft (Vol. II, Ch. 15): (37) a. Neutral VP-negation John didn’t kill the goat (> He did not kill the goat) b. Subject focus It’s not John who killed the goat (> Someone killed it, but not John) c. Object focus It’s not the goat that John killed (> He killed something, but not the goat) d. Verb focus ?It’s not killing that John did to the goat (> He did something to the goat, but not kill it) 8.4.3 Negative scope and optional constituents When optional participants, including adverbs, are present in the clause, they tend to attract the focus of negation to themselves, leaving the rest of the clause to be presupposed. As illustrations, consider: (38) a. Optional benefactive She didn’t write the book for her father (> She wrote it, but not for him) b. Optional associative She didn’t write the book with her sister (> She wrote it, but not with her sister) c. Optional instrumental She didn’t shoot him with the gun (> She shot him, but not with the gun) d. Optional purpose Adv She didn’t flunk on purpose (> She flunked, but not on purpose) e. Optional time Adv She didn’t come Saturday (> She came, but not Saturday)

382

Syntax

f.

Optional frequency Adv She doesn’t visit often (> She visits, but not often)

g. Optional locative Adv She didn’t kick the ball out of the park (> She kicked it, but not out of the park) The inferences in (38a–g) are pragmatic and normative, rather than logical and absolute. A change in the intonation pattern of the clause may yield other inferences. The reason why optional constituents attract the focus of negation is, probably, because they also attract the focus of the assertion in affirmative clauses. The normal pragmatic inference concerning the use of optional constituents thus seems to be: (39) If an optional element is chosen, chances are it is the focus of the assertion.

8.5

The morpho-syntactic typology of VP negation

8.5.1

Grammaticalization of negation markers As noted earlier above, VP (‘syntactic’) negation is the most common negation type, with the following semantic characteristics: tends to negate only the asserted but not the presupposed portion the •
Itcorresponding affirmative. exclude the subject from the scope of negation, thus lumping it together •
Itwithtendsthetopresupposed portion of the corresponding affirmative.
It is the least specific, least type of negation, leaving the exact grounds for • denying the correspondingfocused affirmative unspecified. It is thus not surprising to find the morphemes that mark VP negation as verb-phrase operators, either VP clitics or verb affixes or inflections, thus leaving the subject outside their syntactic scope. This happy coincidence — syntactic scope reflecting semantic scope — is mediated by the two diachronic pathways that give rise to negative morphemes: main verbs taking verbal complements under their scope; and •
negative •
negative intensifiers arising as objects within the verb phrase. Both diachronic sources have been noted earlier (Ch. 5, §5.5.4), and are recapitulated directly below.

8.5.2

De-verbal negation markers Inherently negative modality verbs such as ‘fail’, ‘lack’, ‘refuse’, ‘decline’, or ‘avoid’ commonly grammaticalize as negation markers. In the process, their more specific semantic features are bleached out, leaving only their negative inference:

Negation

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(40) a. He failed to pass > He didn’t pass b. She avoided doing it > She didn’t do it c. They refused to come > They didn’t come Since the syntactic construction in which the grammaticalization occurs is that of main verb over verbal complement, in VO languages the negative modality verb would tend to grammaticalize as a prefix, and in OV languages as a suffix, thus conforming to Greenberg’s (1966a) typological predictions. As an illustration of this process in the midst of happening, consider again Bemba (Bantu), a strict SVO language. In this language, the verb uku-bula (‘lack’, ‘avoid’) is in the midst of being grammaticalized as negation marker, albeit so far only in restricted environments. Thus (Givón 1972): (41) a. uku-bula inf-avoid b. uku-boomba inf-work c. n-a-bula uku-boomba I-past-avoid inf-work d. uku-bulaa-boomba inf-avoid-work e. n-a-bulaa-boomba I-past-neg-work 8.5.3

‘to avoid’, ‘to lack’ ‘to work’ ‘I avoided working’ ‘to not work’, ‘to fail to work’ ‘I didn’t work’, ‘I failed to work’

De-nominal negation markers The second universal source of negation markers, emphatic negative intensifiers, arise out of the transitive object slot. Initially, such intensifiers are added to negative clauses for further emphasis or specification. Once entrenched, such intensifiers often give rise to a non-emphatic double negation construction. In such a construction, the intensifier may eventually lose its stress and cliticizes. Once de-stressed and cliticized, it may go on to replace the older negative marker, now phonologically eroded. It is obvious now why this de-nominal source of negation gives rise to morphemes that contradict Greenberg’s (1966a) prediction: In a VO language, the erstwhile object would cliticize as a verb suffix; in an OV language, as a prefix. As an illustration of this process in a VO language, consider French, in which a series of semantically specific object nouns were recruited to mark emphatic negation: (42) a. ne marche pas! (pas ‘step’) neg march step ‘Don’t march!’ (lit.: ‘Don’t march even a step’) b. je ne connais personne (personne ‘person’) I neg know person ‘I don’t know anybody’

384

Syntax

c. je ne sais rien I neg know thing ‘I don’t know anything’

(*rien ‘thing’)

While (42b,c) retain their emphatic sense, the locative intensifier pas in (42a) eventually became generalized, so that it is now obligatory in non-emphatic double negation, as in: (43) a. je ne connais pas cet homme I neg know neg this man ‘I don’t know this man’ b. je ne le sais pas I neg it know neg ‘I don’t know it’ The tail end of this diachronic process can be seen in informal spoken French, where the unstressed ne is commonly dropped out and the verbal suffix pas is now the sole negation marker, a suffix arising under VO order: (44) a. je-le-sais-pas I-it-know-neg ‘I don’t know it’ b. je-connais-pas cet mec I-know-neg this guy ‘I don’t know this guy’ The corresponding development in an OV language can be seen in Ute (Uto-Aztecan), where the old negative suffix -wa was augmented with a pre-verbal intensifier kach-. At the current state of the language, both are obligatory. However, the intensifier kach- can still appear as a clause-initial independent word if it carries some second-position clitic. Otherwise, it cliticizes as a verb prefix (Givón 1980): (45) a. kach-u’u ’uni-wa-ax neg-s/he do-neg-it ‘s/he doesn’t do it’ b. kach-ax ’uni-na neg-it do-perf/neg ‘s/he didn’t do it’ c. Tumiikux-’ura-n ka-wu == u ka-pu =-a Sunday-top-I neg-work-rem-neg ‘Sunday I didn’t work’ The precise etymology of the negative suffix and prefix in Ute is yet to be determined. Since they both arose during a period of OV syntax, it is most likely that -wa was a negative modality verb, perhaps with a longer form, -wa’a (as morpho-phonemic variation suggests). A nominal object source for the pre-verbal kach is certainly plausible. The full form, used as a stressed independent word (45a,b), is made out of the stem ka- and the nominal suffix -ch, with the latter lost when ka- is incorporated as verb prefix, the way all incorporated

Negation

385

objects nouns lose their nominal suffix in Ute. Finally, incorporated objects in Ute are nonreferring (anti-passive, see Vol. II, Ch. 13), precisely what one would expect NEG-intensifying objects to be, as in French (42). 8.5.4

Negation and word-order Greenberg’s (1966a) predicted correlation between the position of the negative marker in the clause and rigid word-order can be illustrated with languages whose negative marker arose, presumably, via the de-verbal diachronic channel. In V-first languages (VSO or VOS), the de-verbal negative morpheme is expected to be a V-prefix, thus often a clauseinitial operator, as in Bikol (Philippine; M. Factora, i.p.c.): (46) a. Affirmative nag-gadán ’ang-lalake ning-kanding perf/agt-kill nom-man acc/indef-goat ‘The man killed a goat’ b. Negative da’i nag-gadán ’ang-lalake ning-kanding neg perf/agt-kill nom-man acc/indef-goat ‘The man didn’t kill a goat’ In V-final languages (SOV), the de-verbal negative marker is expected to be a V-suffix, thus often also a clause final operator, as in Japanese (Y. Yanagida, i.p.c.): (47) a. Affirmative otoko-wa bin-o kowasi-dalo man-top bottle-acc break-fut ‘the man will break the bottle’ b. Negative otoko-wa bin-o kowasi-nai-dalo man-top bottle-acc break-neg-fut ‘the man will not break the bottle’ And in V-medial languages (SVO), the de-verbal negative marker is expected to be a V-prefix, thus most commonly a VP-initial operator, as in Hebrew (Semitic):1 (48) a. Affirmative Yoav axal et-ha-lexem Yoav ate acc-the-bread ‘Yoav ate the bread’ b. Negative Yoav lo axal et-ha-lexem Yoav neg ate acc-the-bread ‘Yoav didn’t eat the bread’

386 Syntax

8.6

Further topics in the syntax of negation

8.6.1

The coding of negative scope As noted earlier above (§8.4), both contrastive stress (36) and the cleft-focus construction (37) can be used to narrow the scope of negation to a single constituent, the one under contrastive stress. Thus recall: (49) a. Neutral John didn’t kill the goat b. Subject contrastive stress John didn’t kill the goat (> Someone else killed it) c. Object contrastive stress John’t didn’t kill the goat (> He killed something else) d. Subject cleft It wasn’t John who killed the goat (> It was someone else who did it) e. Object cleft It’ wasn’t the goat that John killed (> It was something else that he killed) The reason why both contrastive devices are so effective in narrowing the scope of negation to a single constituent is because they already affect such extreme narrowing in affirmative clauses (see Ch. 15), where the scope of assertion (‘focus of new information’) is narrowed to the contrasted constituent alone. As noted above, VP-negation only takes under its scope the asserted portion of the clause, leaving its presuppositions unaffected. The use of contrastive stress by itself to signal focused negation (49b,c) is not all that common cross-linguistically. And while cleft-focus constructions are much more common, a language need not resort to highly marked contrastive constructions to indicate narrowscoped negation. In coding of narrow-scoped negation, some languages may use word-order, in a way that closely resembles the English cleft (49d,e), and may even be historically derived from a cleft construction, but without necessarily being synchronically as contrastive. As an example, consider Bikol (Philippine; M. Factora, i.p.c.): (50) a. Affirmative nag-gadán ’ang-lalake ning-kanding perf/agt-kill top-man acc/indef-goat ‘The man killed a goat’ b. Neutral VP negation da’i nag-gadán ’ang-lalake ning-kanding neg perf/agt-kill top-man acc/indef-goat ‘The man didn’t kill a goat’

Negation

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c. Subject-scoped negation da’i ’ang-lalake nag-gadán ning-kanding neg top-man perf/agt-kill acc/indef-goat ‘The man didn’t kill a goat’ (> Though someone else may have) d. Object-scoped negation da’i ’ang-kanding g-in-adán kang-lalake neg top-goat perf/pat-kill agt-man ‘The man didn’t kill a/the goat’ (> Though he may have killed something else) In Ute (Uto-Aztecan), with pragmatically-controlled (‘flexible’) word-order, a similar fronting of the NEG-focused constituent is used, with no trace of historical connection to a cleft construction (Givón 1980): (51) a. Affirmative mamach-’u siveetuchi paxa-ux-kwa woman/nom-def goat/acc kill-asp-perf ‘the woman killed the goat’ b. Wide-scoped (VP) negation mamach-’u siveetuchi ka-paxa-na woman/nom-def goat/acc neg-kill-perf/neg ‘The woman didn’t kill the goat’ c. Subject-scoped negation kac-’ura mamach-’u siveetuchi paxa-ux-kwa neg-top woman/nom-def goat/acc kill-asp-perf ‘The woman didn’t kill the goat’ (> Though someone else may have) d. Object-scoped negation kac-’ura siveetuchi mamach-’u paxa-ux-kwa neg-top goat/acc-def woman/nom-def kill-asp-perf ‘The woman didn’t kill the goat’ (> Though she may have killed something else) At least in one language, Russian, it has been reported that focused negation does not involve the fronting, but rather the post-posing of a focused constituent. As in Ute, no traces of cleft structure are involved here. Thus (Dreizin 1980): (52) a. Affirmative Ivan jego ubil Ivan him killed ‘Ivan killed him’

388

Syntax

b. Wide-scoped (VP) negation Ivan jego ne ubil Ivan him neg killed ‘Ivan didn’t kill him’ c. Subject-focused negation jego ubil ne Ivan him killed neg Ivan ‘Ivan didn’t kill him’ (> Though someone else may have) d. Object-focused negation Ivan ubil ne jego Ivan killed neg him ‘Ivan didn’t kill him’ (> Though he may have killed someone else) 8.6.2 Diverse negation markers across grammatical contexts As noted earlier, negation is one of the most consistently grammaticalized modalities. Nonetheless, most languages show some diversity of negation markers, so that in some grammatical contexts — admittedly infrequent and highly marked — special negation markers may be used. The potential for such residual diversity is illustrated below with a number of examples. 8.6.2.1
Across clause types In Modern Hebrew, the negative exclamation lo ‘no’ is also used as the main marker of syntactic (VP) negation in all tense-aspect-modalities, in all grammatical voices, in declarative, interrogative and exhortative clauses. Thus compare: (53) a. Affirmative (perfective) hu halax ha-bayt-a he went/3masc.sg def-house-all ‘he went home’ b. Negative (perfective) hu lo-halax ha-bayt-a he neg-went/3masc.sg def-house-all ‘he didn’t go home’ c. Negative (irrealis) hu lo-yelex ha-bayt-a he neg-3masc.sg/irr/go def-house-all ‘he won’t go home’ d. Negative (imperfective) hu lo-holex ha-bayt-a he neg-masc.sg/impfv/go def-house-all ‘he isn’t going home’

Negation

389

e. Negative yes/no-question hu lo-halax ha-bayt-a? he neg-went/3masc.sg def-house-all ‘Didn’t he go home?’ f.

Negative wh-question mi lo-halax ha-bayt-a? who neg-went/3masc.sg def-house-all ‘Who didn’t go home?’

g. Negative exhortative/subjunctive she-lo-yelex ha-bayt-a sub-neg-3sg.masc/irr/go def-house-all ‘So let him not go home’ Two clause types, the imperative and existential/possessive, have different negation markers: (54) a. Imperative lex ha-bayt-a! go/2masc.sg/imp def-house-all ‘Go home!’ b. NEG-imperative al-telex ha-bayt-a! neg-2sg.masc/irr/go def-house-all ‘Don’t go home!’ c. Existential yesh kan harbe mayim exist here much water ‘There’s lots of water here’ d. NEG-existential eyn kan harbe mayim neg/exist here much water ‘There isn’t much water here’ e. Possessive yesh l-a bayit exist dat-3fem.sg house ‘she has a house’ f.

NEG-possessive eyn l-a bayit exist dat-3fem.sg house ‘she doesn’t have a house’

390 Syntax

8.6.2.2
Across tense-aspect-modality In Ute (Uto-Aztecan), the negative suffix -wa is used in the immediate, habitual and irrealis paradigms, as in (Givón 1980): (55) a. Immediate tu =ka-y eat-imm ‘(s/he) is eating’ b. NEG-immediate ka-tu =ka-wa neg-eat-neg/imm ‘(s/he) isn’t eating’ c. Habitual tu =ka-mi eat-hab ‘(s/he) eats’ d. NEG-habitual ka-tu =ka-mi-wa neg-eat-hab-neg ‘(s/he) doesn’t eat’ e. Irrealis tu =ka-vaa-ni eat-irr-fut ‘(s/he) will eat’ f.

NEG-irrealis ka-tu =ka-vaa-ni-wa neg-eat-irr-fut-neg ‘(s/he) won’t eat’

In the perfect, however, the -wa is supplanted by the suffix -na: (56) a. Perfect tu =ka-xa eat-perf ‘(s/he) ate’ b. NEG-perfect ka-tu =ka-na neg-eat-neg/perf ‘(s/he) didn’t eat’ The remote past is marked by a combination of two suffixes, the nominalizer -pu = and the defective verbal stem -ga ‘have’. The latter has a special suppletive negative form, -’a ‘lack’, and that suppletion is carried over to the negative form of the remote-past marker. Thus compare:

Negation

391

(57) a. Have puwa-gha-t medicine-have-nom ‘(s/he) has medicine power’ ‘(s/he) is a shaman’ b. Lack ka-puwa-’a-t neg-medicine-neg/have-nom ‘(s/he) lacks medicine power’ ‘(s/he) is not a shaman’ c. Remote tu =ka-pu =ga eat-rem ‘(s/he) ate’ d. NEG-remote ka-tu =ka-pu =’a neg-eat-neg/rem ‘(s/he) didn’t eat’ One may as well point out that the history of English illustrates rather vividly a common pathway via which the combination of T-A-M auxiliaries and the very same negative suffix can lead, over time, to a plethora of suppletive NEG-markers. The complex regularities that govern English negation may be first summarized as: (58) a. The order of auxiliaries in the VP is: (Modal)–(have)–(be)-V b. If no other auxiliary element is present, the auxiliary DO must be inserted to make negation possible: do-V c. The NEG marker is suffixed to the first auxiliary. d. Modal auxiliaries cannot be marked for past. e. Otherwise, the past tense marks the first element of the VP, be it an auxiliary or the verb itself. f. For the purpose of negation and past-tense marking, the copula ‘be’ behaves like an auxiliary.2 Some of the more common options arising out of (58) are illustrated in (59) below, where the interaction of subject agreement contributes to further variation: (59) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Modal/future: She won’t work Modal/ability: She can’t work Modal/obligative: She shouldn’t work Have/3sg: She hasn’t worked Have/1sg: I haven’t worked Have-past: She hadn’t worked

392

Syntax

g. h. i. j. k. l.

Be: Be-past: Be-past/pl: Do: Do/1sg: Do-past:

She isn’t working She wasn’t working They weren’t working She doesn’t work I don’t work She didn’t work

In spoken English, phonological assimilation and contraction predictably gives rise to a host of suppletive negation forms, all arising from the interaction between grammaticalized auxiliaries, residual subject agreement and the very same negative suffix not. 8.6.3 Emphatic or NP negation In addition to focused (‘narrow-scoped’) negation (§8.6.1 above), most languages also have another type of syntactic negation that allows a negative marker to attache itself to a non-verbal constituents of the clause — subject, direct object, indirect object, nominal predicate or adverb. This type, called emphatic negation or NP negation, shares with focused negation the marked syntactic feature of placing a negative marker on a non-verbal constituent. Semantically, however, it is quite distinct. The negated constituent in NP negation is typically non-referring. Consider first the sub-pattern in English where the negated constituent is a bona fide lexical noun: (60) a. Affirmative The woman gave the book to the boy b. VP negation The woman didn’t give the book to the boy c. Emphatic subject negation No woman gave the book to the boy d. Emphatic direct-object negation The woman gave no book to the boy e. Emphatic indirect-object negation The woman gave the book to no boy f.

Predicate-NP negation She’s no dummy

The non-referring negated constituent can also be a more generic negative pronoun, as in: (61) a. Emphatic subject negation Nobody came No one saw her Nothing happened b. Emphatic object negation She saw nobody She saw nothing

Negation

393

c. Emphatic indirect-object negation She gave it to nobody She came back with nothing d. Empatic time-adverb negation She never came back e. Emphatic locative negation She went nowhere As noted earlier, in the more common VP negation, the corresponding affirmative is pragmatically presupposed as background to the negative speech-act. Emphatic negation seems to be transacted under subtly different communicative conditions. To begin with, not only is it used to deny a proposition — presumed to be the belief of the interlocutor — but it attacks it more vigorously. In the course of this attack, the speaker zeroes in explicitly on one specific consituent — subject, object etc. — that makes the proposition so utterly objectionable: Not only did the event as a whole not occur with the listed participants, but one of the presumed participants couldn’t have possibly been involved. Indeed, the denial codes that objectionable NP as non-referring. That is, not only was a specific token participant not involved, but no member of its type was involved either. Finally, emphatic NP negation can be placed along the continuum of increasingly emphatic denial, at the top of which is the common type of VP negation: (62) a. VP negation She didn’t read the book (> you think she did, I know better) b. Double negation with lexical noun She didn’t read any book (> not even a single token of the type ‘book’) c. Emphatic negation with lexical noun She read no book (> not even a single token of the type ‘book’) d. Double negation with NEG-pronoun She didn’t read anything (> not even papers or magazines) e. Emphatic negation with NEG-pronoun She read nothing (> not even papers or magazines) 8.6.4 Negation in main vs. complement clauses When two propositions are combined into a complex construction in natural language, as in main plus complement clause, the whole is seldom the mere sum of its parts. One of the best illustrations for this is the interaction between negation in the main clause and

394 Syntax

negation in the complement clause, a phenomenon sometime referred to as NEG-transport.3 Consider first the case of non-factive verbs, such as ‘think’: (63) a. b. c. d.

I don’t think (that) she came I think (that) she didn’t come It is not true that I think (that) she came I think that it is not true (that) she came

By logic alone, (63a) should mean (63c), and (63b) should mean (63d). But in fact, (63a) and (63b) seem to have similar logical inferences, at least under some conditions, with (63a) tending toward a slightly stronger belief in the complement proposition ‘She came’, and (63b) toward a slightly weaker belief (Bolinger 1968). What is more, (63a) and (63b) seem to be equally close in meaning to (63d), and equally remote from (63c). The same weak equivalency between the two logical inferences can be seen with nonimplicative modality or manipulation verbs, such as ‘want’: (64) a. She didn’t want (him) to leave b. She wanted (him) not to leave Somehow the logical inferences of (64a) and (64b) are almost the same, though perhaps again with a certain gradation in strength of preference regarding the complement proposition. With other complement-taking verbs, the logical inferences of two negation patterns — main vs. complement clause — remain distinct, conforming better to the predictions of logic. As Horn (1978) points out, the verbs that allow the neutralization of the two potentially-distinct logical inferences are all mid-scale verbs, on either the continuum of epistemic certainty (‘believe’, ‘think’, ‘suppose’, ’imagine’, ‘expect’) or deontic strength (‘want’). Verbs closer to the either one of the two extremes of the modal scale — higher or lower epistemic certainty, stronger or weaker deontic strength — do not exhibit such neutralization of inferences. Thus compare: (65) Verbs of higher epistemic certainty a. He claimed she didn’t come (> He claimed that it wasn’t true that she came) b. He didn’t claim that she came (> It isn’t true that he claimed that she came) c. She knew that he wasn’t there (> She knew that it wasn’t true he was there) d. She didn’t know (that) he was there (> It isn’t true that she knew he was there) (66) Verbs of higher deontic strength a. She told him not to leave (> It is true that she told him not to leave) b. She didn’t tell him to leave (> It isn’t true that she told him to leave)

Negation

395

c. He tried not to cry (> It is true that he tried not to cry) d. He didn’t try to cry (> It isn’t true that he tried to cry) (67) Verbs of lower epistemic certainty a. She hoped that he didn’t come (> She hoped it wasn’t true that he came) b. She didn’t hope that he came (> It’s not true that she hoped he came) (68) Verbs of weaker deontic strength a. She wished that he hadn’t come (> She wished that it wasn’t true that he came) b. She didn’t wish that he had come (> It wasn’t true that she wished that he had come) Horn’s (1978) explanation to this runs as follows: In negating a verb closer to either extreme of the scale, one gains a verb just as extreme, but at the opposite end of the scale. On the other hand, in negating a mid-scale verb one gains another mid-scale verb, regardless of surface logical status. And it is this ‘mediocrity’ of mid-scale verbs that allows the neutralization of their potentially-distinct logical inferences. 8.6.5 Depth of embedding: Syntactic, morphological, and inherent

(‘lexical’) negation One can contrast syntactic (VP) negation with two other types of negation found in language, morphological and inherent (lexical). Thus compare, first for adjectives: (69) a. Syntactic negation I think she is not happy b. Morphological negative I think she’s un-happy c. Inherent negative I think she’s sad The syntactic pattern (69a) is the most productive, and can be found with all English adjectives. The morphological (69b) and inherent (69c) patterns are more idiosyncratic, applying to some adjectives but not others. Similarly, compare: (70) a. Syntactic negation I don’t like her story b. Morphological negation I dis-like her story

396 Syntax

c. Inherent negation I hate her story Again, the syntactic pattern (70a) is fully productive, applying to all verbs. While the morphological (70b) and inherent (70c) patterns apply to some verbs but not others. As both Bolinger (1968) and Horn (1978) point out, there appears to be a gradient in the strength of negation, correlating to the depth of embedding of the negative operator. This scale proceeds from inherent/lexical negation (weakest) to syntactic negation (strongest), and from complement-clause negation (weaker) to main-clause negation (stronger): weakest (most deeply embedded)

(71) a. b. c. d. e. f.

I believe she is sad I believe she is un-happy I believe she isn’t happy I doubt she is happy I dis-believe she is happy I don’t believe she is happy

(lexical, complement) (morphological, complement) (syntactic, complement) (lexical, main verb) (morphological, main verb) (syntactic, main verb)

strongest (least deeply embedded) 8.6.6 Negative polarity and levels of negation Some paired grammatical operators seem to distribute in a mutually-exclusive way: One member of the pair specializes in negative clauses, the other in corresponding affirmatives. Such operators are sometime called negative polarity items (Horn 1978). Some common examples are: (72) a. Negative Ï
*either ¸ Mary wasn’t happy, and Jack wasn’t happy Ì
*too ˝ Ó ˛ b. Affirmative
*too Ï ¸ May was happy, and Jack was happy Ì
*either ˝ Ó ˛ c. Negative Ï
*yet
¸ Jack hasn’t left Ì
*already
˝ Ó
˛ d. Affirmative Ï
*already
¸ Jack has Ì
*yet
˝left Ó
˛ e. Negative Ï she? ¸
*is Mary isn’t home, Ì ˝
*isn’t she? Ó ˛

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f.

Affirmative Ï
*isn’t she? ¸ Mary is home, Ì
*is she? ˝ Ó ˛

Negative polarity items as in (72) are sensitive to the presence or absence of negation, but only syntactic (VP) negation. Thus, compare their behavior under syntactic negation with their behavior under morphological negation and inherent/lexical negation: (73) a. Affirmative *too Ï




¸ Mary was happy, and Jack was Ì




˝ *either Ó




˛ b. Syntactic negation Ï




¸ *either Mary wasn’t happy, and Jack wasn’t Ì




˝ *too Ó




˛ c. Morphological negation *too Ï




¸ Mary was unhappy, and Jack was Ì




˝

*either Ó




˛ d. Inherent/lexical negation Ï




¸ *too Mary was sad, and Jack was Ì




˝
*either Ó




˛
The distribution of the NEG-polarity operators ‘too’ and ‘either’ in both the morphological negative (73c) and the inherent/lexical negative (73d) follows that of the affirmative clause (73a), rather than that of the syntactic negative (73b). In the same vein: (74) a. Affirmative Ï





¸ *already Jack was Ì





˝ present *yet Ó





˛ b. Syntactic negation Ï





¸ *yet Jack wasn’t Ì





˝ present *already Ó





˛ c. Inherent-lexical negation Ï





¸ *already Jack was Ì





˝ absent *yet Ó





˛ Logically, ‘present’ and ‘absent’ are exact antonyms, seemingly abiding by the exclusion-ofthe-middle rule of logic. That is: (75) present ¤ not absent absent ¤ not present But logic is only part of the semantic structure of negation in natural language, a fact already noted earlier above (3):

398 Syntax

(3) a. Affirmative She is welcome b. Morphological negative She is un-welcome c. Syntactic negative She isn’t welcome d. Syntactic and morphological negative She isn’t un-welcome The logically equivalent (3a) and (3d) are not on a par, so that double negation does not quite brings one back to the affirmative. Nor are the logically-equivalent (3b) and (3c) on a par, with syntactic negation (3c) again seeming somehow stronger than morphological negation (3b).

Notes 1. For more information on the typology of negation, see Horn (1978), Payne (1985), as well as Kahrel and van den Berg (eds 1994). 2. In British English, the main verb ‘have’ also behaves like an auxiliary, as in ‘I have-n’t (any) stamps’. The same conservative Aux-like behavior of ‘have’ is also seen in the grammar of questions in British English, as in ‘Have you (any) stamps?’. 3. The term transport harkens back to the early innocence of transformational grammar, where it was suggested that the negative operator was transformationally ‘transported’ from complement to main clause, thus ‘accounting for’ the similarity in meanings.



Chapter 9

Referential coherence
I Pronouns and grammatical agreement

9.1

Introduction The grammar of pronouns and grammatical agreement lies at the intersection of two functional domains that are, at least in principle, distinct but which nonetheless intersect and interact. The first domain is essentially semantic, involving the conflation of several classificatory systems that takes place during the diachronic rise of pronominal systems. At the tail end of this process, one finds the classical paradigms of independent pronouns, with classificatory features such as: (speaker/hearer); •
person
number; •
gender/class; •
deixis; •
case-role. • Pronominal paradigms at the end of their diachronic rise may appear coherent and unified, even if in fact they are the product of a protracted, opportunistic process of multi-stepped grammaticalization, whereby the various contributory pieces of the paradigm have been cobbled together into a system that is clearly jerry-built. The second domain is profoundly discourse-pragmatic. It involves the grammar of anaphoric reference, which itself is a sub-domain of referential coherence. Within this domain, pronouns — independent, clitic, inflectional or zero-anaphors — are parts of a vast system which includes, in addition: subject and object (Ch. 4); •
grammatical and definiteness (Ch. 10); •
reference
pragmatic de-transitive voice (Ch. 13); •
relative clauses 14); •
contrastive focus(Ch.constructions 15); •
marked topic constructions (Ch.(Ch. 16); •
switch-reference devices (Ch. 18). • The problems of presentation engendered by this vast connectivity, and by the interaction of pronouns within a large cognitive-communicative meta-system, are not trivial. What I

400 Syntax

have elected to do here is to once again take my cue from bio-evolution and fashion an adaptive compromise. The skeletal main features of the overall system of referent tracking (referential coherence) will be outlined gradually through this and the next chapter. But many of the more specific details will be added as they become relevant to particular constructions, in subsequent chapters of Vol. II. Like all other grammatical structures, pronominal systems follow a distinct developmental trajectory. The main steps in their diachronic rise and fall are summarized in (1) below, with the first two segments pertaining, respectively, to the semantically- and pragmatically-driven rise of the system, and the third to its phonologically-driven demise. (1) The rise and fall of pronominal systems a. Rise of semantic pronominal paradigms (primary grammaticalization) speaker/hearer È
˘ number Í
˙ Í
˙
fi stressed independent PRO classifiers Í
˙ deictics Í
˙ Îcase-marking
˚ b. Rise of anaphoric pronominal morphology (secondary grammaticalization) stressed independent PRO fi unstressed/clitic anaphoric PRO fi anaphoric pronominal affixes fi obligatory pronominal agreement c. Decay of anaphoric pronominal morphology (de-grammaticalization) obligatory pronominal agreement fi fused inflections fi morpho-phonemics fi zero

9.2

The semantic organization of pronominal paradigms

9.2.1

Pronominal classificatory features As suggested above, pronominal systems are fashioned — or grammaticalized — through the conflation of classificatory features of diverse semantic, syntactic and pragmatic origins. Some of those pertain to the speech situation and its participants (henceforth SAPs) (2a). Others to the spatial orientation of non-SAPs vis-a-vis the SAPs (2b). Others to numeric quantification of the noun phrase (2c). Others to inherent semantic classification of nouns (2d). And others yet to the syntactic case-role of the NP within the clause (2e). In order:

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(2) Most common pronominal classificatory features a. Speech-act participants (SAPs, ‘persons’) Classifying referents as either the speaker (1st person), hearer (2nd person), or non-SAP (3rd person) b. Spatial deixis relative to SAPs Classifying non-SAP referents as to their spatial proximity and/or visibility to either the speaker or the hearer (‘this’, ‘that’, ‘yon’). c. Number Classifying referents as to their individuation and number (singular, dual, plural). d. Class or gender Classifying non-SAP referents as to their inherent semantic features (as nouns; see Ch. 2, §2.4.3). e. Case-role Classifying referents as to their case-role in the clause, be it subject, direct object and various indirect objects (Nom/Acc case-marking system); ergative and absolutive (Erg/Abs case-marking system); or agent, patient, dative and other semantic roles (semantically-oriented case-marking system). The exclusion of the SAPs from two of the classificatory features in (2) is well motivated. Since they are by definition human or animate, the SAPs’ semantic classification (2d) is already known. Since they anchor the spatial deixis of non-SAPs, the SAPs’ spatial position requires no further specification (2b). Two less-common features crop up on occasion in corners of pronominal paradigms, and will be seen in some of the language examples below. They are: vs. exclusion: This feature pertains only to first person dual or plural (‘we’), •
Inclusion where in some languages two pronominal forms exist: One for ‘we’ that includes the

•

hearer (‘you and I’, ‘you and I and some other(s)’); the other for ‘we’ that excludes the hearer (‘he and I’, ‘they and I’).
Definiteness or reference: This feature pertains only to non-SAPs (3rd persons). In general, most pronouns are anaphoric and thus assumed to be definite (see Ch. 10 below). But most languages also have at least some indefinite or non-referring pronouns, such as the English ‘one’, ‘some’, ‘anyone’ or ‘nobody’.

9.2.2 Initial selected examples 9.2.2.1
Ute (Uto-Aztecan) Independent pronouns in Ute may be divided into two parallel paradigms, subject (3) and non-subject (4), with the latter constituting the base for the direct object, post-positional object and genitive forms (Givón 1980).

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402 Syntax

(3) Ute independent subject pronouns number person

singular

dual

plural

1st

nu =’

tam(i) (incl)

2nd 3rd vis-anim invis-anim vis-inan invis-inan

’u =m(u =)

taw(i) (incl) nu =m(u =) (excl) mu =n(i)

máas ’uwas mar(u =) ’ur(u)

mamu =s ’umu =s / /

(4) Ute independent object pronouns number person

singular

dual

plural

1st

nu =nay

tami (incl)

2nd 3rd vis-anim invis-anim vis-inan invis-inan

’u =mu =y

tawi (incl) nu =mu =y (excl) mu =ni

máayas ’uwayas maru = ’uru

mamu =as ’umu =as / /

The component parts of the Ute pronominal system are still visible in the synchronic paradigm. First, the non-subject case-marking is added to the nominative base forms, with a combination of two older accusative suffixes -a and/or -y, and stress shifting that reveals some underlying vowels that are silenced in the subject forms (Givón 1990b) Second, the 3rd person pronouns are based, transparently, on the non-proximate portion of the deictic demonstrative pronominal paradigm, given in (5) below. Within this system, three prefixal bases signal deictic position: ’i- proximate, ma- remote-visible, and ’u- remote-invisible. The suffix -ru = marks remote inanimates, and the suffix -mu = marks plurals — but only for animates. (5) Ute deictic (demonstrative) pronouns

animate-sg animate-pl inanimate

proximate

remote-vis

remote-invis

subject non-subj

subject

non-subj

subject non-subj

’in(a) ’inay ’im(u =) ’imu = ’ic(a) ’icay

ma(a) mam(u =) mar(ú)

máay mamu = maru =

’u ’uway ’um(u =) ’umu = ’ur(u) ’uru

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403

It is fairly clear that the SAPs portion of the pronominal paradigm is also jerry-built from heterogenous source components. The basic stems that underlie the SAP pronouns are better reflected in the paradigm of clitic pronouns, where the pronominal forms are stripped of all but their core components. But phonological erosion has further reduced many of the non-SAP forms and, at least in one case (3rd invis-animate), an unpredictable consonant has been added. The full paradigm of Ute clitic pronouns is given in (Givón 1980): (6) Ute clitic (suffix) pronouns number person

singular

dual

plural

1st

-n(u =)

2nd 3rd vis-anim invis-anim vis-inan invis-inan

-m(u =)

-ram(i) (incl) -raw(i) (incl) -nu =m(u =) (excl) -am(u =)

-a -u -ax -ux

-am(u =) -um(u =) / /

Unlike in independent pronouns, case-role is irrelevant for Ute clitic pronouns, which may code either the subject, object or genitive: (7) a. Subject clitic ’aapachi-u pu =nikya-y-’u boy/acc-pl see-imm-3sg/an ‘she sees the boys’ mamachi pu =nikya-xa-y-am(u =) woman/acc see-pl-imm-3sg/an ‘they see the woman’ b. Object clitic mamach pu =nikya-y-am(u =) woman/nom see-imm-3pl/an ‘the woman sees them’ pu =nikya-xa-y-’u see-pl-imm-3sg/an ‘they see him/her’ c. Genitive clitic: puku-’u horse-3sg/an puku-am(u =) horse-3pl/an

‘his/her horse’ ‘their horse’

404 Syntax

9.2.2.2
Samoan (Austronesian) The pronominal paradigm in Samoan illustrates, even more so than in Ute, the componential, jerry-built nature of pronominal systems. Samoan is a morphologically ergative language, and the absolutive pronoun paradigm is given in (8) below (Sivai Teofilo, i.p.c.). (8) Samoan absolutive independent pronouns number sg.

dual inclusive exclusive

person 1st 2nd 3rd

o-a’u o-’oe o-iya

o-tsaa-’ua o-maa-’ua o-’ou-lua o-laa-’ua

plural inclusive

exclusive

o-tsaa-tsou o-maa-tsuo o-laa-’ua o-laa-tsou

The prefix o- marks uniformly the absolutive case-role. Tsaa- and maa- mark, respectively, the inclusive and exclusive category, for non-singular first persons. The suffix -’ua/-lua seems to have marked originally the dual category, contrasting with the plural suffix -tsou. But the contrast is preserved only in the 1st and 3rd person. In the 2nd person, the two variants of the dual have been restructured and split, now coding the contrast between dual (-lua) and plural (-’ua). Such reanalysis and restructuring of pronominal systems is widespread (Chafe 1977), reducing even further the regularities that emerge via primary grammaticalization. 9.2.2.3
Bemba (Bantu) Most Bantu languages illustrate rather clearly the major split between SAP pronouns and the 3rd person paradigm, with the latter being still rather transparently the demonstrative (deictic) paradigm used as pronouns. The extensive Bantu noun-class system has fully integrated into the 3rd-person pronominal paradigm, which is thus derived from the conflation of two systems — spatial deixis (2b) and inherent noun classification (2d) (Greenberg 1977). The independent SAP subject pronouns of Bemba are (Givón 1972): (9) Bemba independent SAP subject pronouns number person 1st 2nd

singular

plural

i-n-e i-w-e

i-fw-e i-mw-e

The paradigm of the demonstratives (deictics), functioning as either demonstrative modifiers or independent third-person pronouns, is given in (9) below. The deictic forms for the human class (1/2) also function as the personal third person pronoun ‘s/he’ and ‘they’ (Givón 1972):

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405

(10) Bemba demonstrative (deictic) pronoun paradigm class

number

1 near speaker

2 near hearer

3 near both

4 remote

1/2

sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl (mass) (mass)

uyu aba uu ii ili aya ichi ifi ii ishi ulu ishi aka utu ubu uku

uyo abo uo io ilyo ayo icho ifyo io isho ulo isho ako uto ubo uko

uno bano uno ino lino yano chino fino ino shino luno shino kano tuno buno kuno

ulya balya ulya ilya lilya yalya chilya filya ilya shilya lulya shilya kalya tulya bulya kulya

3/4 5/6 7/8 9/10 11/10 12/13 14 15

The Bantu demonstrative system is based on the CV syllables that code, jointly, class and number. With some historical phonological modification, this is the very same classificatory syllable found in noun prefixes, most likely itself an older deictic pronoun (Greenberg 1977). In both of the more proximate deictics (1,2 above), the vowel of the classifying syllable is duplicated as prefix, no doubt the tail end of syllable reduplication (Greenberg 1977). In the three less proximate deictics, a suffix is added to the basic syllable, marking the exact spatial deixis — o (2), -no (3) or -lya (4). Both subject and object anaphoric pronouns in Bemba are prefixal, both based — with minor phonological modifications — on the same CV syllables that code class/number combination. Prefixal subject pronouns are obligatory (subject agreement; see §9.3.2 below). The paradigm of anaphoric subject pronouns is given in (11) below, and that of object pronouns in (12) (Givón 1972).

406 Syntax

(11) Bemba prefixal subject pronoun (with -li ‘be’) singular person 1st 2nd 3rd class 1/2 (human) 3/4 5/6 7/8 9/10 11/10 12/13 14 (mass) 15 (mass)

plural

n-di u-li

‘I am ‘you are’

tu-li mu-li

‘we are’ ‘y’all are’

a-li u-li li-li chi-li i-li lu-li ka-li bu-li ku-li

‘s/he is’ ‘it is’ ” ” ” ” ” ” ”

ba-li i-li ya-li fi-li shi-li shi-li tu-li / /

‘they are’ ‘they are’ ” ” ” ” ”

(12) Bemba prefixal object pronouns (with -mona ‘see’) number person 1st 2nd

sg pl sg pl

a-m-mona a-tu-mona a-ku-mona a-mu-mona

‘s/he sees me’ ‘s/he sees us’ ‘s/he sees you’ ‘s/he sees y’all’

sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl sg pl mass mass

a-mu-mona a-ba-mona a-u-mona a-i-mona a-li-mona a-ya-mona a-chi-mona a-fi-mona a-i-mona a-shi-mona a-lu-mona a-shi-mona a-ka-mona a-tu-mona a-bu-mona a-ku-mona

‘s/he sees him/her ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees them’ ‘s/he sees it’ ‘s/he sees it’

3rd class 1/2 (human) 3/4 5/6 7/8 9/10 11/10 12/13 14 15

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9.2.2.4
Languages without anaphoric pronouns (Mandarin Chinese) We noted earlier on (Ch. 4, §4.3.2) that Mandarin Chinese, like many other languages, lacks anaphoric pronouns altogether. Consequently, the functional load born in other languages by anaphoric pronouns (or obligatory pronominal agreement) is assumed in Mandarin by zero anaphors. We further noted (Ch. 4, §4.3.2) that zero anaphora in chained clauses in Mandarin is not governed by either the subject or object GR, and indeed — at least in principle — is not governed by a specific GR. Thus, reproducing the same examples (Li and Thompson 1979): (13) a. Quing-zhang-lao jiang Zhi-Sheng ken qu. Abbot see Z.-S. want go ‘The Abbot saw that Z.-S. was willing to go. b. jiu [Ø] liu [Ø] zai fangzhang-li xie-le then [Ø] keep [Ø] be chamber-in rest-asp Then he kept him in the chamber to rest up’. c. [Ø] an-xi xia. [Ø] settle down ‘(Yang-Zhi) settled down. d. zhuang-ke jiao-huan [Ø] [Ø] dan-r porter give-back [Ø] [Ø] luggage The porter then gave him back his luggage. e. [Ø] yu-le [Ø] xie yin-liang [Ø] give-asp [Ø] some money Y.-Z. then gave him some money. f. [Ø] zi hui-qu-le. [Ø] refl return-asp The porter then went back by himself’. We will discuss the ramification of this typological situation for the functional domain of anaphoric reference further below.

9.3

Pronouns and grammatical agreement

9.3.1

Optional clitic anaphoric pronouns (Ute) As noted earlier above (1), obligatory pronominal agreement — or verb agreement — is a natural diachronic consequence of the cliticization of unstressed anaphoric pronouns. One may, for example, find languages in the early stages of this process, with pronominal clitic being optional, and their clitic location not even stabilized to the verb. A good example of such an early stage is Ute, where pronominal clitics are not obligatory, nor do they code a unique case-role (7). What is more, subject and object clitics need not attach to the verb, but may be suffixed to the first word in the clause, be it of any word-class:

407

408 Syntax

(14) a. Object clitic kacu-’u pu =nikya-xa-pu =ga neg-3sg/an see-pl-rem ‘they didn’t see him/her’ b. Subject clitic ’aav-’ura-am(u =) wú == u ka-kha-paani now-top-3pl/an go-pl-fut ‘now they’ll work’ c. Subject or genitive clitic1 kani-am(u =) ’uru pu =nikya-kha-pu =ga house/acc-3pl/an det/acc see-pl-rem Ï
‘they saw the house’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘they saw their (someone else’s) house’ ˛ d. Genitive clitic kani-am(u =) ’uru pu =nikya-pu =ga house/acc-3pl/an det/acc see-rem ‘s/he saw their house’ e. Object clitic tu =vu =ch-’ura-akh ’asti-kya very-top-3/inan want-perf ‘s/he wanted it very much’ 9.3.2 Pronominal agreement on the verb 9.3.2.1
Cliticization of subject pronouns (Modern Hebrew) The stabilization of clitic pronouns as verb affixes seems to occur in two stages. First they become anaphoric pronominal affixes on the verb — rather than clitics on the first word in the clause, (as in Ute). Later they may become obligatory grammatical agreement. What is more, the dynamics of the gradual change from clitics to verb-affixes to obligatory pronominal agreement is a bit different for subject and object pronouns. The early stage of affixation of clitic subject pronouns can be seen in Modern Hebrew, in verb paradigms that have developed too much person, gender or number ambiguity. This is most conspicuous in the imperfective paradigm — the participial-nominaladjectival verb form — where the verb agrees with the subject in only gender and number but not in person. In Modern Hebrew, the independent subject pronouns become destressed anaphoric verb-prefixes in this paradigm, so that using the verb in an anaphoric context without them is just about ungrammatical, except in restricted contexts. Thus:2 (15) Context: So what’s she doing now? a. Response (no-PRO) kore-t et-ha-iton read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper ‘(she is) reading the paper’

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b. Response (with PRO) hi-kore-t et-ha-iton 3fem.sg-read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper ‘she is reading the paper’ (16) Context: What does she do in the evening? a. *Response (no PRO) *b-a-erev kore-t et-ha-iton in-the-evening read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper b. Response (with PRO) b-a-erev hi-kore-t et-ha-iton in-the-evening 3fem.sg-read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper ‘in the evening she reads the paper’ In non-anaphoric contexts, i.e. with full-NP subjects, the independent subject pronoun still cannot be used, even in the ‘defective’ paradigm of the imperfective: (17) a. Full-NP subject (no PRO) Mira kore-t et-ha-iton Mira read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper ‘Mira is reading the paper’ b. Full-NP subject (*with PRO) *Mira hi-kore-t et-ha-iton Mira 3fem.sg-read/impfv-fem.sg acc-the-paper Clearly, the subject anaphoric pronouns in this paradigm have not yet progressed to the stage of obligatory grammatical agreement. 9.3.2.2
Cliticization of object pronouns (Biblical Hebrew) A more advanced diachronic stage in the evolution of subject pronouns can be seen in the two main verbal paradigms of Early Biblical Hebrew. Subject pronominal agreement, prefixal in the preterit and suffixal in the perfect, is obligatory even when a full-NP subject is present; that is, obligatory subject agreement. The old generation of optional pronominal object suffixes have become almost obsolete without ever becoming an obligatory objectagreement system (18c). One finds them only sporadically, alternating in the very same anaphoric contexts with the new — and much more common — case-marked object pronouns (18b): (18) a. va-ya-r’ ’elohim ’et-ha-’or ki-»tov and-3masc.sg/pret-saw God acc-the-light sub-good ‘and God saw the light that it was good’ (Gen. 1:3) b. va-yi-ten ’ot-am ’elohim bi-rqi’a ha-shamayim and-3masc.sg/pret-put acc-3mp God in-arch/pos the-sky ‘and God put them upon the arch of the sky…’ (Gen. 1:17)

409

410

Syntax

c. va-yi-qah» YHWH ’elohim ’et-ha-’adam and-3masc.sg/pret-took YHWH God acc-the-man ‘and God took the man va-ya-nihe-hu » be-gan ha-’eden and-3masc.sg/pret-rest-3masc.sg/obj in-garden/poss the-eden and put him in the garden of Eden’ (Gen. 2:15) The newer generation of case-marked object pronouns can be still used as stressed independent pronouns, much like independent subject pronouns: (19) a. Stressed independent subject pronoun ha-’isha ’asher nata-ta ’imad-i, hi’ natn-a l-i the-woman rel gave-2masc.sg with-1sg she gave-3fem.sg to-1sg ‘the woman you gave me, SHE gave (it) to me…’ (Gen. 3:12) b. Stressed independent object pronoun ki ’ot-xa ra’i-ti tzadik le-fan-ay for acc-2masc.sg saw-1sg righteous to-face-my ‘for YOU (alone) have I seen as a righteous man in front of me’ (Gen. 7:1) When they are unstressed and anaphoric, case-marked object pronouns invariably follow the verb, even to the point of preempting the subject NP position in the preterit paradigm (18b) with its rigid SVO order (18a). They may be thus considered verbal clitics.3 But neither the older nor the new anaphoric object pronouns can co-exist with the full-NP object in the same clause. Thus, compare (18b) above with its ungrammatical version in (20a), and (18c) above with the ungrammatical (20b): (20) a. *va-yi-ten ’ot-am ’elohim ’et-ha-m’orot and-3masc.sg/pret-put acc-3masc.pl God acc-the-lights *‘and God put them the lights…’ b. *va-ya-nihe-hu » ’et-ha-’adam and-3masc.sg/pret-rest-3masc.sg/obj acc-the-man *‘and he put him the man…’ Clearly, neither generation of object pronouns in Biblical Hebrew ever became obligatory object agreement. 9.3.2.3
Dative object agreement (Spanish) As will be suggested further below, there is a good reason why obligatory object pronominal agreement is much less frequent than obligatory subject agreement. Nonetheless, the beginning of such a process can be seen in Spanish, where dative and benefactive object agreement is near obligatory for many verbs, at least in some dialects. Consider first, by way of comparison, the inanimate patient object:

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(21) a. Full-NP object quebré la ventana broke/1sg the/fem.sg window ‘I broke the window’ b. Anaphoric object pronoun la-quebré ayer acc/3fem.sg-broke/1sg yesterday ‘I broke it yesterday’ c. *Coexistence of full-NP and object pronoun *la-quebré la ventana ayer acc/3fem.sg-broke/1sg the/fem.sg window yesterday *‘I broke it the window yesterday’ If the inanimate object is pre-posed — topicalized — however, the object pronoun becomes obligatory, i.e. object agreement, as in: (22) la ventana(,) la-quebré hayer the/fem.sg window acc/3fem.sg-broke/1sg yesterday Ï
‘the window I broke yesterday’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘the window, I broke it yesterday’ ˛ Consider now dative objects: (23) a. Obligatory Dat object agreement le-dí el libro a Juan dat/3sg-gave/1sg the/masc book to Juan ‘I gave the book to Juan’ b. *Lack of Dat agreement *dí el libro a Juan gave/1sg the/masc.sg book to Juan c. *Pat agreement, lack of Dat agreement *lo-dí el libro a Juan acc/3masc.sg-gave/1sg the/masc.sg book to Juan d. Dat agreement, Pat anaphoric pronoun se-lo-dí a Juan dat/3sg-gave/1sg to Juan ‘I gave it to Juan’ e. *Pat agreement *se-lo-dí el libro a Juan dat/3sg-acc/3masc.sg-gave/1sg the/masc.sg book to Juan f.

Dat and Pat anaphoric pronouns se-lo-dí ayer dat/3sg-acc/3masc.sg-gave/1sg yesterday ‘I gave it to him/her yesterday’

411

412

Syntax

g. *Lack of Dat anaphoric pronoun *lo-dí ayer acc/3masc.sg-gave/1sg yesterday h. *Lack of Pat anaphoric pronoun *le-dí ayer dat/3masc.sg-gave/1sg yesterday 9.3.2.4
Definite and/or human object agreement (Swahili) Further developments that are most likely related to the dative object agreement in Spanish may be seen in several Bantu languages. In Swahili, for example, two features normally associated with the dative object — humanity and definiteness — have prompted two separate lines of obligatory object agreement. For non-human objects, pronominal agreement is obligatory for definite objects: (24) a. Indefinite object = no Obj agreement a-li-soma kitabu 3sg-past-read book ‘s/he read a book’ b. Definite object = obligatory agreement a-li-ki-soma kitabu 3sg-past-it-read book ‘s/he read the book’ c. Anaphoric use of object agreement a-li-ki-soma 3sg-past-it-read ‘s/he read it’ For human objects, pronominal agreement is obligatory even for indefinite NPs, so that definiteness must be marked by other means: (25) a. Indefinite = no demonstrative wa-li-mu-ona mtoto 3pl-past-3sg/hu-see child ‘they saw a child b. Definite = with demonstrative wa-li-mu-ona yule mtoto 3pl-past-3sg/hu-see that child ‘they saw the child’ c. Anaphoric use of object agreement wa-li-mu-ona 3pl-past-3sg/hu-see ‘they saw him/her’

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9.3.2.5
Direct object agreement (KinyaRwanda) In KinyaRwanda, object pronominal agreement is optional. In bi-transitive clauses, only the direct object can control pronominal agreement. Like most Bantu languages, dativebenefactive objects automatically claim the direct object status (‘obligatory promotion’). Thus consider (Kimenyi 1976): (26) Obligatory ‘promotion’ of Dat/Ben to DO a. Dat/Ben = DO Yohani y-ooher-er-eje Maria ibaruwa John/subj 3sg-send-ben-asp Mary/obj letter/obj ‘John sent Mary a letter’ b. Optional Dat object agreement Yohani ya-mu-oher-er-eje Maria ibaruwa John/subj 3sg-her-send-ben-asp Mary/obj letter/obj ‘John sent (her) Mary a letter’ c. *Pat object agreement *Yohani ya-ri-oher-er-eje Maria ibaruwa John/subj 3sg-it-send-ben-asp Mary/obj letter/obj d. *Pat = DO *Yohani y-ooher-eje ibaruwa ku-Maria John/subj 3sg-send-asp letter/obj dat-Mary The promotion of other oblique objects to DO is optional, but the pattern of pronominal agreement remains the same — only with the direct object: (27) Optional promotion of instrument to DO a. Pat = DO umugabo ya-tem-eje igiti n-umupaanga man/subj he-cut-asp tree/obj instr-saw ‘The man cut the tree with a saw’ b. Optional Pat object agreement umugabo ya-gi-tem-eje igiti n-umupaanga man/subj he-cut-it-asp tree/obj instr-saw ‘The man cut (it) the tree with a saw’ c. *Instr object agreement *umugabo ya-u-tem-eje igiti n-umupaanga man/subj he-cut-it-asp tree/obj instr-saw d. Instr = DO umugabo ya-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man/subj he-cut-asp-instr saw/obj tree/obj ‘The man used the saw to cut the tree’

413

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Syntax

e. Optional Instr object agreement umugabo ya-u-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man/subj he-it-cut-asp-instr saw/obj tree/obj ‘The man used (it) the saw to cut the tree’ f. *Pat object agreement *umugabo ya-gi-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man/subj he-it-cut-asp-instr saw/obj tree/obj (28) Optional promotion of associative to DO a. Pat = DO umuhuungu ya-riimb-jye ururiimbi na-umugore boy/subj he-sing-asp song/obj assoc-woman ‘The boy sang the song with the woman’ b. Optional Pat object agreement umuhuungu ya-ru-riimb-jye ururiimbi na-umugore boy/subj he-it-sing-asp song/obj assoc-woman ‘The boy sang (it) the song with the woman’ c. *Assoc object agreement *umuhuungu ya-mu-riimb-jye ururiimbi na-umugore boy/subj he-her-sing-asp song/obj assoc-woman d. Assoc = DO umuhuungu ya-riimb-an-ye umugore ururiimbi boy/subj he-sing-assoc-asp woman/obj song/obj ‘The boy sang with the woman a song’ e. Optional Assoc object agreement umuhuungu ya-mu-riimb-an-ye umugore ururiimbi boy/subj he-her-sing-assoc-asp woman/obj song/obj ‘The boy sang with the woman a song’ f. *Pat object agreement *umuhuungu ya-ru-riimb-an-ye umugore ururiimbi boy/subj he-it-sing-assoc-asp woman/obj song/obj (29) Optional promotion of manner to DO a. Pat = DO Maria ya-tets-e inkoko n-agahiinda Mary/subj she-cook-asp chicken/obj mann-sorrow ‘Mary cooked the chicken with regret’ b. Optional Pat object agreement Maria ya-i-tets-e inkoko n-agahiinda Mary/subj she-it-cook-asp chicken/obj mann-sorrow ‘Mary cooked (it) the chicken with regret’

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c. *Mann object agreement *Maria ya-ga-tets-e inkoko n-agahiinda Mary/subj she-it-cook-asp chicken/obj mann-sorrow d. Mann = DO Maria ya-tek-an-ye agahiinda inkoko Mary/subj she-cook-mann-asp sorrow/obj chicken/obj ‘Mary with regret cooked the chicken’ e. Optional Mann object agreement Maria ya-ga-tek-an-ye agahiinda inkoko Mary/subj she-it-cook-mann-asp sorrow/obj chicken/obj ‘Mary with (it) regret cooked the chicken’ f. *Pat object agreement *Maria ya-i-tek-an-ye agahiinda inkoko Mary/subj she-it-cook-mann-asp sorrow/obj chicken/obj (30) Optional promotion of locative to DO a. Pat = DO umugore y-ooher-eje umubooyi ku-isoko woman/subj she-send-asp cook/obj loc-market ‘The woman sent the cook to the market’ b. Optional Pat object agreement umugore y-a-mu-oher-eje umubooyi ku-isoko woman/subj she-him-send-asp cook/obj loc-market c. *Loc object agreement *umugore y-a-ri-oher-eje umubooyi ku-isoko woman/subj she-it-send-asp cook/obj loc-market d. Loc = DO umugore y-ooher-eke-ho isoko umubooyi woman/subj she-send-asp-loc market/obj cook/obj ‘The woman sent to the market the cook’ e. Optional Loc object agreement umugore ya-ri-oher-eke-ho isoko umubooyi woman/subj she-it-send-asp-loc market/obj cook/obj ‘The woman sent to (it) the market the cook’ f. *Pat object agreement *umugore ya-mu-oher-eke-ho isoko umubooyi woman/subj she-him-send-asp-loc market/obj cook/obj 9.3.2.5.1
Topicalized object agreement (Amharic). In the final variant we will consider, object agreement is controlled by topicalization via fronting, as can be seen in Amharic (Semitic). As in Biblical Hebrew, Spanish and Bantu, subject agreement is obligatory in Amharic. In the unmarked SOV word-order, object agreement is not used. But when an object is

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Syntax

fronted and thus topicalized, object agreement becomes obligatory. Thus consider (Haile 1970; Fulas 1974): (31) a. Subject agreement only (SOV) Almaz bet-u-n bä-mäträgiya-w tärrägä-cc Almaz house-def-obj with-broom-def swept-she ‘Almaz swept the house with the broom’ b. Fronted patient, Pat object agreement bet-u-n Almaz bä-mäträgiya-w tärrägä-cc-iw house-def-obj Almaz with-broom-def swept-she-it ‘The house Almaz swept (it) with the broom’ c. *Fronted patient, Instr object agreement *bet-u-n Almaz bä-mäträgiya-w tärrägä-cc-at house-def-obj Almaz with-broom-def swept-she-it d. Fronted instrument, Instr object agreement bä-mäträgiya-w Almaz bet-u-n tärrägä-cc-at with-broom-def Almaz house-def-obj swept-she-it ‘With the broom Almaz swept the house (with it)’ e. *Fronted instrument, Pat object agreement *bä-mäträgiya-w Almaz bet-u-n tärrägä-cc-iw with-broom-def Almaz house-def-obj swept-she-it The Amharic situation is broadly similar to that of Spanish, where fronted objects also gain pronominal agreement.

9.4

The implicational hierarchies of pronominal agreement The data of pronominal verb agreement illustrated above can be summed up in terms of six predictive implicational hierarchies (Hawkinson and Hyman 1974; Moravcsik 1974; Timberlake 1975; Givón 1976): (32) a. Grammatical relations Subject > Direct-object > Indirect-object b. Semantic role Dative/Benefactive > Patient c. Animacy Animate > Inanimate d. Humanity Human > Non-human e. Definiteness Def > Indef f. Topicalization Topicalized > Non-topicalized

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What these hierarchies predict is that if a language would develop obligatory pronominal agreement, it would develop it first for the highest (left-most) category in each hierarchic scale in (32). Put another way, if a language has obligatory pronominal agreement for a lower-ranking category on any of these scales, it most probably also has it for the category (or categories) higher on the scale. The six implicational scales in (32) are not fully independent of each other, but rather exhibit well-known interactions. Thus, the dative or benefactive semantic role is overwhelmingly human, thus animate. In natural discourse, dative objects are also overwhelmingly definite (Givón 1976, 1984a). They also lay the highest claim, of all other objects, to the grammatical role of direct object (Ch. 4, §4.5.2). Likewise, topicalized NPs — whether L-dislocated or Y-moved (see Vol. II, Ch. 16) — are overwhelmingly definite. The earlier discussion in the 1970s (e.g. Hawkinson and Hyman 1974; Timberlake 1975; Givón 1976) took it for granted that a single pragmatic feature — topicality — motivated all the hierarchies in (32). While perhaps insightful at the time, in retrospect one must recognize that the invocation of ‘topicality’ failed to specify, let alone explain, the actual mechanism responsible for the key diachronic step in the rise of obligatory pronominal agreement — the shift from using anaphoric pronouns only in anaphoric contexts (in the absence of a full NP) to their extended obligatory use in both anaphoric and nonanaphoric contexts (coexisting with full-NPs). The elucidation of such a mechanism requires a much more explicit understanding of the grammar of anaphora and definiteness, thus the grammar of referential coherence. The skeletal outline of this core component of grammar is given directly below.

9.5

Foundations of the grammar anaphoric reference

9.5.1

Preamble The rise of obligatory pronominal agreement is due to the conflation of three separate processes, each motivated by its own discourse-pragmatic dynamics: diachronic rise of clitic anaphoric pronouns out of stressed •
the independent pronouns high text-frequency of anaphoric pronouns •
the
the • high frequency of cliticization on the verb. To understand the naturalness of these processes, one must first understand the communicative use of four grammatical devices that sit at the very heart of the grammar of referential coherence: zero •
anaphoric
unstressed anaphoric pronouns •
stressed independent •
definite (vs. indefinite)pronouns full-NPs. •

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Syntax

Traditionally, all four devices have been considered definite given the classical definition of definiteness as identifiability (see Ch. 10): “The speaker assumes that the hearer can identify the referent”

In the next three sections we will describe, albeit only briefly, the specific discourse contexts in which these four devices are used. The outline follows, in the main, the more extensive treatment in Givón (1992, 1994b). 9.5.2

Anaphoric zero vs. unstressed anaphoric pronouns Both zero anaphors and unstressed anaphoric pronouns are used in context of maximal referential continuity. Their co-referent, whether a full-NP, anaphoric zero or pronoun, is found — overwhelmingly — in the immediately-preceding clause (Givón ed. 1983b). As an illustration, consider: (33) a. b. c. d.

Mary came into the room and [Ø] looked around. She was the only one there, she could tell. She hesitated, then [Ø] turned around and [Ø] walked out. [Ø] walking away, she saw someone approaching.

An anaphoric zero is used in English in contexts of maximal referential and thematic continuity, with the antecedent coreferent found in the immediately-preceding clause, and only grammatical subject continuity ((33a), (33c)). The choice of using an anaphoric pronoun rather than an anaphoric zero is subtle in English, but nonetheless well regulated. It is precipitated by three main discontinuity conditions: discontinuity: end of the clause-chain; •
Thematic
Grammatical-role discontinuity: subject–object switch; •
Clause-rank discontinuity: subordinate–main clause switch. • Ending the thematic unit — clause-chain — with a period in (33a) prompts the use of ‘she’ (rather than zero) in the next chain-initial clause in (33b). The second ‘she’ (rather than zero) in (33b) is prompted by the thematic gap created by a switch from verb-complement clause to main clause. The use of zero (rather than ‘she’) to open the new chain in (33d) is at first glance puzzling. However, the zero here is construction-specific (‘syntactically governed’) zero, part and parcel of the grammar of participial Adv-clauses. The coreference condition for such clauses is cataphoric rather than anaphoric (Ch. 18). Finally, the use of ‘she’ (rather than zero) in (33d) is again prompted by the switch from subordinate Adv-clause to main clause. Two types of languages lack the distinction between zero anaphora and unstressed anaphoric pronouns: with obligatory subject agreement (Spanish, Bantu, Semitic); •
languages
languages with no anaphoric pronouns (so-called ‘pro-drop’ languages; • Chinese, Japanese).

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In such languages, a single grammatical device — either pronominal agreement or anaphoric zero, respectively — codes the communicative context of maximal referential continuity, leaving the further sub-distinction of thematic continuity, coded in English by the contrast between zero and anaphoric pronoun, uncoded. 9.5.3

Anaphoric vs. stressed independent pronouns A distinct cluster of contexts of referential discontinuity, often with referential contrast, prompt the change of grammatical strategy from unstressed anaphoric pronoun (or zero) to stressed independent pronoun. Most typically, two or more referents of equal rank are involved, so that a potential ambiguity exists at least in principle. As illustrations consider: (34) a. b. c. d. e. f.

Bill talked to Joe and then (he) left. Bill talked to Joe and then HE left. I talked to Joe and he agreed... I talked to Joe and [Ø] agreed... I talked to Joe and Sally. HE was agreeable. SHE wasn’t. I saw Sally and Joe. I like HER a lot. HIM I can’t stand.

The use of either an anaphoric pronoun or zero in (34a) is compatible with subject continuity. The use of the stressed pronoun in (34b) makes possible an object-to-subject switch. But an anaphoric pronoun suffices in (34c) despite the object-to-subject switch, because there is no competing referent. A zero in the same context, as in (34d), reestablishes subject continuity. In (34e), with no referential ambiguity, the first stressed pronoun (HIM) codes referent switch from the conjoined pair to one member; the second (HER) codes both referent switch and contrast. In (34f), again with no referential ambiguity, both stressed pronouns code referent switch and contrast. 9.5.4 Pronouns and zero anaphors vs. definite full-NPs As noted above, pronouns and zero anaphors are used in context of maximal referential continuity. In the case of zero and unstressed pronouns, their antecedent is found — overwhelmingly — in the directly-preceding clause. In the case of contrastive, stressed independent pronouns, their antecedent coreferent is found — overwhelmingly — within 2–3 clauses back. The antecedent coreferent of definite full-NPs, in sharp contrast, is found much further away in the preceding discourse, often not even in the same clausechain or paragraph. To drive this point home, consider the mean values of anaphoric distance associated with various referent-coding devices, compiled from multiple cross-language studies (Givón ed. 1983b; Givón 1984b; Sun and Givón 1985).

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420 Syntax

(35) Comparison of mean anaphoric distance values and and degree of categorial clustering for common anaphoric devices (Givón ed. 1983a; 1984b; Sun and Givón 1985) construction

mean AD (# of clauses)

degree of clustering around the mean

a.
zero anaphora b.
unstressed PRO


1.0
1.0

100% at mean 95% at mean

c.
stressed PRO d.
Y-movement


2.5
2.5

90% between 2–3 90% between 2–3

e.
Def-noun


7.0

25% at 1.0 35% scattered 5–19 40% at 20+

f.
Def-noun with modifier(s)

10.0

55% scattered 5–19 45% beyond 204

g.
L-dislocated Def-N

15.0

60% at > 20 25% at 4–9 13% at 10–19

As will be seen in Chapter 10, not all definite full-NPs have an overt textual antecedent. Thus, for example, the last two definite NPs in the fiction passage in (36) below (‘the clothing’, ‘the body’) have no explicit text antecedent. Their definiteness is due to their predictable relation to another explicitly mentioned antecedent, ‘the dead man’. The passage as a whole illustrates the use of full-NPs vs. anaphoric pronouns or zero: (36) “…He circled it wearily as a wolf, [Ø] studying it from all angles, and when finally he stopped within a dozen feet of the dead man, he knew much of what had happened at this place. The dead man had ridden a freshly shod horse into the playa from the north, and when [Ø] shot he had tumbled from the saddle and the horse had galloped away. Several riders on unshod ponies had then approached the body and one had dismounted to [Ø] collect the weapons. The clothing had not been stripped off, nor was the body mutilated…” (L’Amour 1962, p. 7)

9.6

Explaining the rise of pronominal agreement We are now in the position to tackle four questions that were thus far left open, concerning the rise of obligatory pronominal agreement on the verb: a. Why do contrastive stressed independent pronouns become unstressed — and eventually cliticized — anaphoric pronouns? b. Why do anaphoric pronouns cliticize on the verb — rather than on any other wordtype in the clause?

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c. Why do anaphoric pronouns, initially used without the full NP, become obligatory grammatical agreement in the presence of the full NP? d. What motivates the hierarchies of the likelihood of grammatical agreement (32)? a.

The de-marking of independent pronouns The diachronic mechanism for de-emphasizing and thus de-stressing independent pronouns is probably due to communicative over-use, a strategy of ‘buying extra insurance’. It involves extending the use of stressed pronouns from contrastive to noncontrastive contexts, i.e. into a sub-domain previously covered by zero anaphors. Some insight about the dynamics of this extension process may be gained from the contrast between English and Spanish. In English, with the demise of the Anglo-Saxon system of subject pronominal agreement on the verb, the sub-domain of anaphoric pronouns was reclaimed by zero anaphora, for both the subject and object role. The independent pronouns, in their de-stressed version, then moved over to re-claim that slot. For the human pronouns, stress still remains the sole phonological difference between their contrastive and their anaphoric use (see (34) above). The inanimate pronoun ‘it’, however, cannot be stressed anymore in most contexts, so that its erstwhile contrastive function has been transferred to a new-generation independent pronoun — the stressed demonstrative pronoun ‘that (one)’ (Linde 1979): (37) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h. i.

I didn’t see it. *I didn’t see IT. I didn’t see THAT (ONE). It’s something else. *But IT is something else. But THAT is something else. Give it to me. *Give IT to me. Give me THAT (ONE).

In Spanish, the functional sub-domain of subject anaphoric pronouns is still served well by the obligatory subject agreement paradigm. Stressed subject pronouns are used only in contrastive contexts: (38) a. Anaphoric todavía no há llegado still neg have/3sg arrived ‘s/he hasn’t arrived yet’ b. Contrastive EL no há llegado, pero ELLA sí 3masc.sg neg have/3sg arrived but 3fem.sg ‘HE hasn’t arrived, but SHE has’

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422 Syntax

But there was no old obligatory object agreement conjugation in Spanish, and the anaphoric object slot was thus under-coded. Into the breach moved a set of stressed demonstrative pronouns, becoming de-stressed and anaphoric: (39) a. lo-quiero 3sg.masc/obj-want/1sg ‘I want it/him’ b. la-quiero 3sg.fem/obj-want/1sg ‘I want it/her’ c. le-dí un libro 3sg/dat-gave/1sg a book ‘I gave him/her a book’ The reduced short forms of these object pronouns can still display stress in the limited context of headless Rel-clauses, in both subject and object roles: (40) a. lo que quiero es… 3masc.sg sub want/1sg is ‘What I want/love is…’ b. la que quiero es… 3fem.sg sub want/1sg is ‘the one I want/love is…’ c. lo que pasó es que… 3sg sub happened/3sg is sub ‘what happened is that…’ d. lo peor es que… 3sg worst is sub ‘the worst thing is that…’ e. sea lo que sea… be/3sg/subj 3sg sub be/3sg/subj ‘let whatever happens happen’ f. Que case con la que le-guste sub marry/3sg/subj with 3fem.sg sub 3sg/dat-please/3sg/subj ‘let him/her marry whomever s/he please’ And the full forms of these erstwhile demonstrative pronouns are still extant, as in the stressed independent pronouns él (he’), ella (‘she’), as well as combinations such as aquello and aquella (‘that one’). Finally, the pre-verbal — fronted — position of the Spanish clitic object pronouns seems puzzling, given that they cliticized during a period of VO syntax. As stressed contrastive pronouns, however, their fronted position is natural and well motivated both in Spanish and universally (see Vol. II, Ch. 15). One may as well note that the situation of anaphoric object pronouns in Biblical Hebrew, described earlier above (§9.3.2.2), also illustrate the de-marking of independent

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423

stressed pronouns. By the time of Early Biblical Hebrew (Genesis), the older set of suffix object pronouns has become obsolete, as indicated by their extremely low text frequency. The new, prepositionally-marked object pronouns perform, in EBH, both the anaphoric and contrastive functions. b.

The attraction of anaphoric pronouns to the verb We noted earlier above (§9.2.2.1) that Ute clitic anaphoric pronouns tend to cliticize on the first word in the clause. Can such pronouns evolve into verb-clitic pronouns? The answer to this is, tentatively, yes, and it draws on two text frequencies and their predictable consequences: discourse typically occurs in equi-topic chains whose average length appears •
Human to be 5–10 clauses.
In natural discourse, the clausal subject — being the main topic — is overwhelmingly • continuous, thus anaphoric, thus most likely coded as zero or clitic pronoun.
The direct object, less topical than the subject, is often anaphoric too. •
The likelihood of awhile clause with both an anaphoric subject and an anaphoric object is • thus rather high. the three main word-types in the clause — subject, object and verb — the verb is •
Of thus the most likely word to appear in clauses in natural discourse. the verb is the most likely word to which de-stressed anaphoric pronouns •
Consequently, can cliticize. To illustrate some of these frequencies, consider first the frequency of anaphoric vs. full-NP subjects and objects in Zacapultec (Mayan; DuBois 1987): (41) The distribution of grammatical subjects, objects and ‘others’ in the zero pronoun and full-NP categories in Zacapultec (DuBois 1987) zero/pronoun grammatical type

N

%

full-NP N

total %

N

%

transitive subj intransitive subj

169 136

93.9 51.9

11 126

6.1 48.1

180 262

100.0 100.0

all subjects dir. objects oblique objects

305 96 24

60.0 54.3 13.4

137 81 154

40.0 45.7 86.6

442 177 178

100.0 100.0 100.0

In the same vein, consider the frequency of anaphoric vs. full-NP subjects in spoken Ute, spoken English (Givón ed. 1983b), and two spoken Pidgins (Givón 1984b):

424 Syntax

(42) Text frequency of clauses with anaphoric subject pronouns (incl. zero) vs. full subject NPs in spoken Ute, spoken English and two spoken Pidgins (see Givón ed. 1983b, 1984b) zero/pronoun N Ute English Spanglish pidgin Filipinglish pidgin

full-NP

%

288 540 109 132

N

%

20 185 54 48

93.5 74.4 68.9 73.3

total

6.5 25.6 31.1 26.7

N

%

308 725 163 180

100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

Likewise, consider the frequency of anaphoric vs. full-NP subjects in five conversational diads in English (Givón 1999): (43) Full-NP vs. pronominal or zero subjects in English conversation (Givón 1999) pro/zero subjects

N

full-NP

total

%

N

%

N

%

Pair #1 Pair #2 Pair #3 Pair #4 Pair #5

114 189 114 72 133

89.7 93.5 94.2 88.9 90.5

13 13 7 9 14

10.3 6.5 5.8 11.1 9.5

127 202 121 81 147

100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

total:

622

91.7

56

8.3

678

100.0

The comparable frequency of anaphoric object pronouns in the same conversations was (Givón 1999): (44) Full-NP vs. pronominal or zero objects in English conversation (Givón 1999) pro/zero

full-NP

total

subjects

N

%

N

%

N

%

Pair #1 Pair #2 Pair #3 Pair #4 Pair #5

36 42 47 32 25

54.5 53.1 71.2 78.0 53.2

30 37 19 9 22

45.5 46.9 28.8 22.0 46.8

66 79 66 41 47

100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

182

60.8

117

39.2

299

100.0

total:

c.

From anaphoric pronoun to obligatory pronominal agreement The high frequency of anaphoric pronouns in natural spoken discourse, particularly subject pronouns, is what motivates the change from anaphoric pronouns to obligatory

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pronominal agreement. In grammaticalization, the change from 90% text frequency to 100% is almost a foregone conclusion — given time and a plausible mechanism. The plausible mechanism in this case is most likely two well-known topicalizing constructions — L(eft)-dislocation and R(ight)-dislocation. In a language with clitic anaphoric pronouns, as English (for both subject and object) and Spanish (for the object), the co-existing co-referent pronoun is obligatory in such constructions (see Vol. II, Ch.16): (45) a. Neutral pattern Mary saw John b. Subject L-dislocation Mary, she-saw John c. Object L-dislocation John, Mary saw-him d. Subject R-dislocation She-saw John, Mary e. Object R-dislocation Mary saw-him, John Likewise in Spanish: (46) a. L-dislocation/Y-movement a-Juan(,) le-vió María obj-Juan 3sg/dat-saw/3sg Maria Ï
‘John, Mary saw him’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘JOHN Mary saw (rather than heard)’ ˛ b. R-dislocation le-vió María(,) a-Juan 3sg/dat-saw/1sg M. obj-Juan Ï
‘She saw him, Mary’ ¸ Ì ˝ Ó
‘Mary saw John’ ˛ As suggested in Givón (1976), these two topicalizing constructions easily get de-marked, lose the intonation break, and wind up as simple clause with a definite full-NP subject or object. That is: (47) a. L-dislocation My ol’ man, he-rides with the Angels fi b. De-marked neutral pattern My ol’ man he-rides with the Angels As noted in (35) above, the contextual difference between definite NPs without L-dislocation and L-dislocated definite NPs, in terms of their anaphoric distance, is roughly 7–10 clauses for the former and 15 clauses for the latter. L-dislocation is thus typically a chaininitial device, coding a higher level of referential and thematic discontinuity. Much like in the de-marking of stressed independent pronouns to yield clitic anaphoric pronouns, what

425

426 Syntax

is at work here is the strategy of over-use, whereby a grammatical device that normally codes lower continuity gets functionally re-interpreted into coding higher continuity. d.

The hierarchies of pronominal agreement We are finally in the position to explain the role of the so-called ‘topic hierarchies’ in determining the likelihood of obligatory pronominal agreement. These hierarchies are reproduced below: (32) a. Grammatical relations Subject > Direct-object > Indirect-object b. Semantic role Agent > Dative/Benefactive > Patient c. Animacy Animate > Inanimate d. Humanity Human > Non-human e. Definiteness Def > Indef f.

Topicalization Topicalized > Non-topicalized

These hierarchies must surely be motivated by the text-frequency of anaphoric pronominalization, the precursor to obligatory pronominal agreement. The grammatical case hierarchy (32a) is motivated by the higher text-frequency of anaphoric subjects over objects (see (41), (42), (43), (44)), and direct-objects over indirect-objects (DuBois 1987; Givón 1984b; Givón ed. 1994a). The semantic role hierarchies are motivated by exactly the same frequencies, given that the agent lays the strongest claim to subjecthood and the dative to direct objecthood (see Ch. 4, §4.5). Both the animacy hierarchy (32c) and the humanity hierarchy (32d) are motivated by the fact that the agent and dative are both almost exclusively human/animate. The connection to the frequency of anaphoric pronominalization is thus solid if indirect: human/animate > Agt/Dat > Subj/DO The motivation for the definiteness hierarchy (32e) is now obvious: First, indefinite NPs have no anaphoric antecedent whatever, so that anaphoric pronouns are almost always definite. And second, dislocated NPs can only be definite (or generic), but never referring indefinites (see Vol. II, chs 15, 16). Finally, the topicalization hierarchy (32f) is predictable not from the atomic notion of ‘topic’, but rather from the role of NP-fronting constructions — L-dislocation and Y-movement — in the rise of obligatory pronominal agreement. As noted in (45), (46) (47) above, such constructions tend to demand — in languages with anaphoric pronouns — obligatory pronominal agreement.

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9.7

Head-modifier agreement in the noun phrase While less prevalent cross-linguistically than verb agreement, head-modifier agreement in the noun phrase is a well-known phenomenon, albeit somewhat of a misnomer. The classificatory semantic or pragmatic features involved here are, in principle, the very same ones listed in (2) as underlying all pronominal systems, with the exclusion of two features — speech-act participants (2a) and spatial deixis anchored to SAPs (2b). This is a rather understandable exclusion, given that the SAPs have the most unique reference, are always pronominal, and thus take no modifiers (see Vol. II, Ch. 11). The surviving four features most commonly found in head-modifier agreement are: class/gender; •
noun •
number; •
definiteness; •
case-roles. Of these, only the first — class/gender — is an inherent feature of the head noun. The others are grammar-coded semantic or pragmatic further specification of the particular NP. It is now obvious why the traditional term ‘head-modifier agreement’ is a misnomer: It applies only to inherent nominal class/gender. In some languages, agreement in the noun-phrase is transparently of the same pronominal type as pronominal verb agreement. This is the case in Bantu languages, where the same CV-syllable that is the base of the vast pronominal system (see §9.2.2.3 above) is also the base form for head-modifier agreement. Thus (from Swahili): (48) a. ki-le ki-kapu chy-angu ki-dogo ki-li-chyo-vunjika… the basket my small it-past-rel-broke ‘the small basket of mine that broke…’ b. vi-le vi-kapu vy-angu vi-dogo vi-li-vyo-vunjika… the baskets my small they-past-rel-broke ‘the small baskets of mine that broke…’ c. yu-le m-toto w-angu m-dogo a-li-ye-kufa… the child my small s/he-past-rel-died ‘the small child of mine who died…’ d. wa-le wa-toto wa-angu wa-dogo wa-li-wo-kufa… the child my small they-past-rel-died ‘the small children of mine who died…’ In other languages, gender and number agreement in the NP closely resembles, both phonologically and semantically, the classificatory categories of head nouns, so much so that the most likely origin of such agreement may have to do with the rise of the word-class adjective out of the word-class noun. As an illustration, consider Hebrew, where the masculine-singular serves to some extent as base form:

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(49) a. yeled gadol exad child/masc.sg big/masc.sg one/masc.sg ‘one big boy’ b. yald-a gdol-a axat child-fem.sg big-fem.sg one/fem.sg ‘one big girl’ c. yelad-im gdol-im axad-im child-masc.pl big-masc.pl one-masc.pl ‘some big boys’ d. yelad-ot gdol-ot axad-ot child-fem.pl big-fem.pl one-fem.pl ‘some big girls’ Hebrew may also serve to illustrate definite agreement — a feature of the NP rather than of the noun — across many modifiers in the NP: (50) a. ha-yeled ha-gadol ha-sheni ha-ze def-child/masc.sg def-big/masc.sg def-second def-that/masc.sg ‘that second big boy’ b. ha-yald-a ha-gdol-a ha-shniy-a ha-zot def-child-fem.sg def-big-fem.sg def-second/fem.sg def-that/fem.sg ‘that second big girl’ c. ha-yelad-im ha-gdol-im ha-shniy-im def-child-masc.pl def-big-masc.pl def-second-masc.pl ha-ele def-this/masc.pl ‘those second big boys’ d. ha-yelad-ot ha-gdol-ot ha-shniy-ot ha-ele def-child-fem.pl def-big-fem.pl def-second-fem.pl def-this/fem.pl ‘those second big girls’ Case-role, again an NP feature rather than a noun feature, can also form the basis for ‘agreement’, as in Latin (Palmer 1954): (51) vir bon-us puero¯ bon-o libr-um bon-um dedit man/nom good-nom boy-dat good-dat book-acc good-acc gave ‘the good man gave the good boy a good book’ In Latin, as well as in many languages in Australia and So. America (see Vol. II, Ch. 18), case agreement is also extended to participial Adv-clauses, which are treated formally as modifiers agreeing with either the subject or object NP. This feature can be easily be recruited to mark cross-clausal subject continuity or discontinuity, as in (Thompson and Longacre 1985): (52) a. ab oppid-o duct-a, from town-acc lead/perf/part-nom ‘(having been) brought from town,

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femin-a prope templ-um habitabat. woman-nom near temple-acc lived the woman lived near the temple’ b. Caesar, accept-is litter-is, Caesar/nom receive/perf/part-abl letter-abl ‘Caesar, the letter having been received, nuntin-um misit. messenger-acc sent sent a messenger’ In (52a), the nominative-marked participial clause agrees with the nominative-marked main-clause subject, thus coding subject continuity between the main and subordinate clause. In (52b), the ablative-marked participial clause ‘disagrees’ with the nominativemarked main-clause subject, thus signalling switch-subject between main and subordinate clause. On occasion, Latin case agreement can be carried to quite an extreme, as can be seen in example (53) below, taken from the Credo section of the Mass, where the verb ‘believe’ takes a prepositional object that requires the accusative case, which then persists seemingly forever, with various lacunae in which case government is more local:5 (53) Credo in un-um De-um, believ/I in one-acc God-acc ‘I believe in one God, Patr-em omnipotent-em, father-acc almighty-acc Father Almighty, factor-em coeli et terrae, maker-acc heaven/gen and earth/gen Maker of heaven and earth, visibilium omnium et invisibilium. visibles/gen all/gen and invisibles/gen and of all (things) visible and invisible. Et in un-um Domin-um Jes-um Christ-um and in one-acc Lord-acc Jesus-acc Christ-acc And in one Lord Jesus Christ, Fili-um Dei unigenit-um, son-acc God/gen only.begotten-acc God’s only begotten son, et ex Patre nat-um and out Father/abl born-acc begotten of the Father

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430 Syntax

ante omnia seculae before all/acc worlds/acc before all the worlds. De-um de Deo, God-acc of God/abl God of God, lumen de lumine, light/acc of light/abl light of light, De-um ver-um de Deo vero, God-acc true-acc of God/abl true/abl true God of true God, Genit-um non fact-um… begotten-acc neg made-acc begotten, not made…’ While the actual mechanisms responsible for the diachronic rise of agreement in the NP are yet be fully understood, it is most likely that high frequency of anaphoric pronominalization has much to do with it. But pronominalization of a different sort than the one discussed thus far — the use of noun-modifiers as pronouns. It is well known that languages with more extensive, viable NP agreement enjoy a much wider latitude in using modifiers as anaphoric pronouns. As an illustration, compare the Swahili examples in (54) below with their English translations. With one exception, the latter require the pronoun ‘one’: (54) a. b. c. e. f.

yu-le alikufa w-angu alikufa m-dogo alikufa a-li-ye-kufa hayuko w-a m-moja alikufa

‘that one died’ ‘mine died’ ‘the big one died’ ‘the one who died is not here’ ‘the first one died’

With the exception of inherent nominal gender, agreement of modifiers in the noun phrase is little more than the assumption — under anaphoric conditions — of the NP’s number, definiteness or case-marking morphology by modifiers functioning as anaphoric pronouns.

9.8

Other functions of grammatical agreement The original function of pronominal subject or object agreement on the verb — the primary grammaticalization of grammatical agreement — is that of anaphoric pronouns. But like elsewhere, secondary grammaticalization is responsible to functional extension in multiple directions. In this section we will briefly survey some of those.

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9.8.1

Marking verb-type and transitivity (Melanesian Pidgin) In Solomon Islands Pidgin (Melanesian substratum Pidgin), the erstwhile subject pronoun (or agreement) ‘he’ still survives as a third-person anaphoric pronoun on the verb, at least in some discourse contexts. The erstwhile object pronoun/agreement ‘him’, however, has become lexicalized as marker of all transitive verbs. Thus consider (Keesing 1988): (55) a. pikipiki i-ranawe pig subj-run.away ‘the pig ran away’ b. em i-luk-im pikipiki s/he subj-see-tr pig ‘s/he saw the pig’ c. mi luk-im pikipiki I see-tr pig ‘I saw the pig’ d. mi luk-im I see-tr ‘I saw it/him/her/them’ e. mi luk-im yu I see-tr you ‘I saw you’ f. bae mifala du-im tumora fut we/ex do-tr tomorrow ‘we’ll do it tomorrow’ g. bae mifala luk-im yu tumora fut we/ex see-tr you tomorrow ‘we’ll see you tomorrow’ The anaphoric object contexts in (55d,f ) may suggest a surviving third-person pronominal function for -im. But (55e,g) immediately rule out this interpretation, so that (55d,f ) must be better viewed as zero anaphora.6

9.8.2 Marking direct vs. indirect objects (KinyaRwanda, Lunda) As noted earlier above (§9.3.2.5), in KinyaRwanda (Bantu) bi-transitive clauses only the direct object — the one adjacent to the verb — controls object agreement. The competition for object pronominal agreement in Spanish bi-transitive clauses, although technically between dative and patient, is probably of the same general type (§9.3.2.3 above). And when both objects command pronominal agreement in Spanish, the dative pronoun precedes the patient pronoun. A broadly similar situation is found in Lunda (Bantu), where two object pronoun slots are found on the verbal word. The prefix pronoun, as in KinyaRwanda, can only agree with the direct object. But the suffix pronoun agrees with the indirect object (Kawasha 1999, 2000):

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Syntax

(56) a. Intransitive with IO w-a-temukila ku-shikola 3sg-past-run.to loc-school ‘s/he ran to school’ b. Pronominalized IO w-a-temukila-k(u)-u 3sg-past-run.to-loc-suff ‘s/he ran there’ c. Transitive with DO w-a-tekela mbizi 3sg-past-cook meat ‘s/he cooked the meat’ d. Pronominalized DO w-a-yi-tekela 3sg-past-it-cook ‘s/he cooked it’ e. Bi-transitive with two object NPs w-e-enka kansi mukanda 3sg-past-give child book ‘s/he gave the child a book’ f. Pronominalized dative DO w-a-mw-inka mukanda 3sg-past-3sg/obj-give book ‘s/he gave him/her a book’ g. Dative/DO agreement w-a-mw-inka kansi mukanda 3sg-past-3sg/obj-give child book ‘s/he gave the child a book’ h. Pronominalized DO and IO w-a-mw-inka-w(u)-u 3sg-past-3sg/obj-give-it-suff ‘s/he gave it to him/her’ i. Agreement of both DO and IO w-a-mw-inka-w(u)-u kansi mukanda 3sg-past-3sg/obj-give-it-suff child book ‘s/he gave the child the book’’ 9.8.3 Marking topical objects (Amharic, Machiguenga) We have already noted earlier (Ch. 4, §4.5) that direct objects tend to be more topical than indirect objects. Thus, pronominal marking of the more topical object can be considered as a grammatical feature of direct objects. A related case has been noted earlier (§9.3.2.6) for Amharic, albeit only with fronted — topicalized — objects.

Referential coherence
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A broadly similar situation can be seen in Machiguenga (So. Arawak), a V-first language where pre-verbal NPs are uncommon. There is virtually no case-marking in Machiguenga, but the more topical object in bi-transitive clauses commands two grammaticalized properties: to the verb, i.e. fronting; •
adjacency
pronominal agreement. • Thus (B. Snell, i.p.c.): (57) a. Topical Dat DO i-m-p-u-t-e-ro tsinane kamona 3masc-irr-give-dir-ep-irr-3fem woman chonta.palm ‘he may give the woman chonta-palm’ b. Topical Pat DO i-m-p-u-t-e-ri kamona tsinane 3masc-irr-give-dir-ep-irr-3masc chonta.palm woman ‘he may give the chonta-palm to the woman’ 9.8.4 Marking definite objects (Swahili) We have already noted above (§9.3.2.4) the use of object pronominal agreement in Swahili to mark the definiteness of objects. A similar tendency may be noted in Lunda (§9.8.2 above). 9.8.5

Marking main vs. subordinate clauses (Bemba) In Bemba (Bantu), the subject agreement for 3rd person singular humans, the most frequent subject pronoun in discourse, displays one form in main clauses, another in relative clauses. For other 3rd person subject pronouns, the difference is only in tone (Givón 1972): (58) a. Main clause (1sg) umukashi á-à-ishile woman 3sg-past-come ‘the woman came’ b. Rel-clause (1sg) umukashi ù-à-ishile… woman 3sg/rel-past-come ‘the woman who came…’ c. Main clause (1pl) abakashi bá-à-ishile women 3pl-past-come ‘the women came’

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d. Rel-clause (1pl) abakashi bà-à-ishile… women 3pl/rel-past-come ‘the women who came…’ 9.8.6 Marking existential-presentative clauses (KinyaRwanda) In Bantu languages, existential-presentative clauses display locative subject agreement rather than normal subject agreement. Thus (KinyaRwanda; Kimenyi 1976): (59) a. umugabo ya-riho ku-nzu man 3sg-be loc-house ‘the man is in/at the house’ b. abagabo ba-riho ku-nzu man 3pl-be loc-house ‘the men are in/at the house’ c. ku-nzu ha-riho umugabo loc-house loc-be man ‘there’s a man in the house’ d. ku-nzu ha-riho abagabo loc-house loc-be men ‘there’re men in the house’ 9.8.7 Binding NP constituents together Finally, we noted earlier (Ch. 5, §5.7) that grammatical agreement across the NP can also serve to bind all NP constituents together, especially in cases where they are non-adjacent. In this connection, recall the case of Walbiri, where case agreement with the head noun is optional if the modifier is adjacent to it, but obligatory if the head and modifier are nonadjacent. Thus (Hale 1980; Austin and Bresnan 1996): (60) a. Scattered subject NP, obligatory Erg-case agreement kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi wita-rlu child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast small-erg ‘the small child chased the dog’ b. Scattered object NP, obligatory Abs-case agreement kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi wita child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast small/abs ‘the child chased the small dog’ *‘the small child chased the dog’ c. Adjacent subject NP, optional erg-case agreement wita kurdu-rlu ka maliki wajili-nyi small child-erg pres dog/abs chase-nonpast ‘the small child chased the dog’ *‘the child chased the small dog’

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9.9

Indefinite and non-referring pronouns There is a tendency to assume that indefinite pronouns are never anaphoric, since the bulk of anaphoric pronouns are indeed definite. However, the following contrast in English suggests that the situation is more complex. While the examples below will make more sense in the context of the discussion of reference and definiteness in the next chapter, they are reasonably transparent. Consider first: (61) a. Definite antecedent John was looking for the book, and he found it b. Referring-indefinite antecedent John was looking for a book he lost, and he found it c. Non-referring antecedent John was looking for a book to read, and he found one d. Non-referring antecedent You might find a book you like there. If you find one, let me have it when you’re finished, OK? In (61a–c), the pronoun ‘it’ is indeed referring-definite, and ‘one’ referring-indefinite. But (61d) throws a monkey-wrench in the generalization, showing that ‘one’ is simply indefinite regardless of reference status, and ‘it’ simply definite regardless of reference status. We will return to this topic in the next chapter. And English also has marked nonreferring pronouns, as in: (62) I don’t know if anybody came, I saw no one there. The use of the plural anaphoric — thus again presumably definite — pronouns ‘they’ or ‘them’ to mark non-reference or vague reference in spoken English is well entrenched, as in: (63) a. If anybody shows up, tell them to wait. b. If anybody did that, they’d be insane. These examples parallel the use of the definite but non-referring ‘it’ in (61d) above, again underscoring the fact that definite need not be referential, leastwise not logically. Note, finally, that an anaphoric zero may likewise be either referring or non-referring, while remaining just as definite as ‘it’ and ‘they’. As an illustration, consider the use of zero object anaphora in spoken Hebrew: (64) a. Definite zero Context: Rai-ta oto? saw-2masc.sg him ‘Did you see him?’ Response: ken, rai-ti yes saw-1sg ‘yes, I saw (him)’

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b. Referring-indefinite zero Context: Rai-ta mishehu sham? saw-2masc.sg anybody there ‘Did you see anybody there?’ Response: ken, rai-ti yes, saw-1sg ‘yes, I saw (someone)’ c. Non-referring zero Context: Rai-ta mishehu sham? saw-2masc.sg anybody there ‘Did you see anybody there?’ Response: lo, lo-rai-ti neg neg-saw-1sg ‘no, I didn’t see (anybody)’

Notes 1. A possessive interpretation of the clitic pronoun here is possible, but only if the possessor is not coreferent with the subject. Under subject-possessor coreference, the invariant reflexive genitive pronoun -av must be used. That is: kani-av ’uru pu =nikya-kha-pu =ga-am(u =) house/acc-gen/refl det/acc see-pl-rem-3pl/an ‘they saw their own house’ 2. One might as well note that unstressed anaphoric subject pronouns in spoken English are also roughly at this diachronic stage (Givón 1999). The same is true of unstressed subject pronouns in spoken French (Givón 1976). 3. See Givón (1999) for a comparable situation in spoken English. 4. Within this category fall definite NPs with no textual antecedence; see Ch. 10 below. 5. From the Credo in Mozart’s Requiem Mass (KV. 626), with help from Fr. John Bowe gratefully acknowledged. 6. As Keesing (1988) points out, the grammaticalization of Solomon Islands Pidgin morphology was aided by a pre-existing Austronesian substratum ‘template’, so that to some extent the Melanesian Pidgin development is not organic.



Chapter 10

Referential coherence
II Reference and definiteness

10.1

Introduction Both reference and definiteness have been discussed, albeit informally, in two preceding chapters. Reference was touched upon briefly in Chapter 6 (§6.4.3.2), in connection with its interaction with propositional modalities. And definiteness was discussed in Chapter 9 (§9.5), in connection with its interaction with the grammar of anaphoric pronouns. As in the case of modality, the treatment of reference and definiteness in linguistics has been heavily impacted by a long and venerable philosophical tradition. While often insightful, this tradition had consigned the discussion of both reference and definiteness to the domain of atomic propositions. Neither, it turns out, fits very comfortably in this restricted domain. In the case of definiteness, it is relatively easy to see why one cannot give a coherent account of it without transcending the confines of the atomic proposition. First, the antecedence of definite NPs in naturally-produced text is almost always to be found outside the atomic clause. Second, in elucidating the cognitive operations that underlie the use of definite NPs in natural communication, one must invoke various hearer-anchored systems that transcend the speaker’s propositional meaning. Either textually or cognitively, then, definiteness turns out to be a pragmatic rather than semantic entity. In the case of reference, the narrow-scoped propositional semantic tradition makes considerably more sense, predicting rather elegantly the interaction between the reference status of nominals and the propositional modality under whose scope they fall. But even here, the grammatical coding of reference in human language turns out to be highly sensitive to the discourse-pragmatic — extra-clausal — context, especially when communicative pragmatics conflicts with propositional semantics. This chapter deals first with reference and then with definiteness. At its conclusion, an integrated cognitive account of the grammar of referential coherence will be sketched out, building upon the foundations laid down in Chapter 9.

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10.2

Reference

10.2.1 The Real World vs. the Universe of Discourse The treatment of reference in linguistics developed historically as by-product of the Logical Positivist tradition (Russell 1905, 1919; Carnap 1958, 1959). Within that tradition, the main propositional modalities were true or false, with the choice having to do with how proposition mapped onto the so-called Real World (RW). Propositions that mapped onto states or events extant in the RW were said to be true. Those that contradicted states or events extant in the RW were said to be false. And those that coded states or events unattested in the RW but not contradictory to them were said to be possible (or ‘lacking in truth value’). In a parallel fashion, reference (‘denotation’) was held in the logical tradition to be a mapping between referring expressions in language (NPs) and entities that existed in the RW (Russell 1905, 1919; Strawson 1950; Carnap 1958, 1959; inter alia). And the truth value of clauses containing referring expressions depended, at least in part, on whether the referring expressions in them had or didn’t have denotation in the RW. As an illustration of this approach, consider the sentences in (1) and (2) below: (1) a. The present king of France is not bald b. The present queen of England is not bald (2) a. b. c. d.

There is a king of France (and only one) There is no one that is both king of France and bald There is a queen of England (and only one) There is someone that is both queen of England and not bald

According to Russell’s approach to reference (Russell 1905, 1919; Strawson 1950), in asserting (1a) one asserts two contradictory propositions — the false (2a), and the true (2b). And further, the falsity of (2a) is due to failed denotation. In asserting (1b), on the other hand, one is not being contradictory. Rather, one asserts two true propositions, one establishing successful denotation (2c), the other just factually true (2d). It is of course remarkable that human languages code the referents in (1a,b) with exactly the same grammatical devices signalling a referring-definite NP, paying no heed to denotation in the RW, or to the truth value of the associated propositions. Likewise, human languages ignore RW-anchored denotation and truth in marking indefinite NPs: (3) a. I rode a unicorn yesterday b. I rode a horse yesterday The inescapable conclusion is that the grammar of human language, and the mind behind it, marches to a different drum in matters of reference. In human language, it seems, reference — Russell’s denotation — is not a mapping from referring linguistic expressions to individuals existing in the RW. Rather, it is a mapping from linguistic expressions to individuals established verbally in the Universe of Discourse.

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It is of course true that the Universe of Discourse and the proverbial RW enjoy a considerable overlap in normal human communication, which tends to deal with extant human individuals and their everyday affairs. But when the two worlds part company, the grammar of reference cheerfully disregards denotation in the RW, opting instead for denotation in the Universe of Discourse. Indeed, the grammar of reference in human language can and on occasion does disregard denotation altogether, as in: (4) a. She’s looking for a horse; it escaped last Friday. b. She’s looking for a horse; it had better be white. ‘A horse’ in (4a) denotes an entity in the Universe of Discourse. ‘A horse’ in (4b) does not. But the grammar of English applies the referring anaphoric pronoun it to both, the real horse that escaped last Friday (4a) and the imagined white horse yet to be found (4b). 10.2.2 Referential intent It is of course possible for a logic-based theory of reference to make each Universe of Discourse — indeed every possible Universes of Discourse — a separate realm of denotation for referring linguistic expressions. The Possible Worlds Semantics approach of the 1960s and 1970s (e.g. Kripke 1963, 1972; Cocchiarella 1965; Hinttika 1967; Purtill 1968; Scott 1970; Montague 1970; Lewis 1972) is a formal attempt to accomplish just that. It is yet to be seen, however, whether the proliferation of indexing under this approach accomplishes much more than the mere labeling major islands of pragmatics that remain impervious to a truth-conditional treatment.1 In one clear sense, reference in the Universe of Discourse is already a crypto pragmatic enterprise, in that it goes outside the bounds of the atomic proposition. Every Universe of Discourse is opened up — established — by a particular speaker who then intends entities in it to either refer or not refer. And it is this referential intent of the speaker that seems to be more relevant to the grammar of reference in human language. A nominal expression such as ‘a horse’ in (4) is of itself devoid of reference, having only a lexical-semantic sense (Frege 1892, 1949). The speaker utters (4a) and (4b) with two distinct intents, one referring to an extant ‘horse’ in a particular Universe of Discourse (4a), the other referring only to the type ‘horse’ but not to an actual individual (4b). It is the speaker’s referential intent that determines which of these two interpretations holds. While crypto-pragmatic in one sense, a theory of reference based on the speaker’s referential intent is easy to convert into a purely semantic theory, since it invokes no other propositions outside the one in which the referring expression is lodged. One can then abstract both speaker and hearer from the proposition, then ignore them in any subsequent propositional-semantic analysis. Such an abstraction, the standard fare of truth-conditional logic ever since Plato, is indeed a convenient dispensation in any preliminary discussion of reference in natural language. It makes it easier to describe the intimate relation between nominal reference and propositional modalities. As will be shown further below, however, such a semantic approach to reference can account for only a portion of the linguistic facts.

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10.2.3 The universal quantifier and non-reference The logical tradition, harkening back to Aristotle’s De Sophisticis Elenchis (McKeon ed. 1941), has noted that nominal expressions may be used in two main senses, one referring (Aristotle’s sensus divisus), the other generic (Aristotle’s sensus compositus).2 In the more forbidding terms of formal logic, this distinction had been recast as the contrast between the existential (referring) and universal (generic, non-referring) quantifier (Russell 1905):3 (5) a. Universal (non-referring) All Greeks are bald = ‘For all (x), if (x) is Greek, then (x) is bald’ b. Existential (referring) Socrates is bald = ‘There exists an (x), such that (x) is Socrates and (x) is bald’ The facts of natural language, as we shall see below, tend to suggest that generic subject expressions as in (5a) are in fact bona fide referring expressions, but referring to a group or a type rather than to an individual. Much clearer contrasts between the referring and nonreferring use of nominals may be seen in the three grammatical environments (6), (7) and (8), with the appropriate contexts added in parentheses: (6) Nominal predicates a. Referring He’s a teacher I met in college (You asked me who he was) b. Non-referring John is a teacher (You asked me what he did for a living) (7) Scope of irrealis a. Referring She was looking for a teacher I recommended (but she couldn’t find him) b. Non-referring She was looking for a teacher to study with (but she couldn’t find any) (8) Scope of negation a. Referring She didn’t find the teacher I recommended (He was out of town) b. Non-referring She didn’t find a teacher to study with (nobody was available) In each pair in (6)–(8), the referring NP (a) is intended by the speaker to identify an individual in the Universe of Discourse. The non-referring NP (b), on the other hand, is used in an attributive sense (Donellan 1966), connoting the type but denoting no particular individual.

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10.3

The semantics of indefinite reference4 We limit the initial discussion of nominal reference to indefinite NPs, because definite NPs are most commonly obligatorily referring and thus present no contrast. At least in human language, it seems, ‘definite’ may be aptly viewed as further sub-specification of ‘referring’. Some of the apparent counter-examples to this generalization will be discussed further below (§10.6.6).

10.3.1 Referential opacity The term referential opacity is due to Quine (1953), albeit in a context that does not concern us directly here. Quine was the first to note the systematic connection between the reference status of nominals and the propositional modalities under whose scope they fall. Consider the following nominal expressions, the first one by Quine’s definition referentially transparent, the second referentially opaque: (9) a. Referentially transparent John married a rich woman. b. Referentially ‘opaque’ John wanted to marry a rich woman, (i) …but she refused him. (ii) …but he couldn’t find any. As in (7) above, the speaker uttering the referentially transparent (9a) is committed to the existence, in the Universe of Discourse, of some rich woman that John married. The following implication must thus hold: (10) If John married one, then that particular one must have existed. In uttering the referentially opaque (9b), on the other hand, the speaker either may or may not have made such a referential commitment. That is, two interpretations of ‘a rich woman’ are possible, a referring one (9b–i) and a non-referring one (9b-ii). Since the indefinite nominal ‘a rich woman’ is opaque in (9b) but transparent in (9a), referential opacity of this type is not signalled in English by the presence (vs. absence) of the indefinite article itself. Rather, it is somehow due to the propositional modality under whose scope the indefinite expression falls. 10.3.2 Reference and propositional modalities 10.3.2.1
Preliminaries In our earlier discussion of modality (Ch. 6, §6.4), we identified four main propositional modalities that have strong semantic, pragmatic and grammatical consequences in human language. For the purpose of predicting reference, we grouped them into two pairs of mega-modalities:

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(11) a. Fact: b. Non-fact:

Presupposition R-assertion (realis) IRR-assertion (irrealis) NEG-assertion (negation)

We then made the general prediction concerning the correlation between propositional modalities and nominal reference under their scope: (12) Reference and propositional modality a. Under the scope of non-fact, nominals can be interpreted as either referring or non-referring. b. Under the scope of fact, nominals can only be interpreted as referring. The most common grammatical contexts where fact and non-fact modalities are distributed were listed earlier (Ch. 6, §3.4.3). Since human discourse, most particularly everyday face-to-face communication, employ non-fact modalities much less frequently than fact modalities, it is possible to render (12) above more realistically as a markedness expression: (13) Nominals may be interpreted non-referentially only if they are under the scope of some non-fact modality. Otherwise they must be interpreted referentially. Since clausal subjects tend to be overwhelmingly referring, and since definite NPs are likewise almost always referring, the role of modality in determining the reference status of nominals is best illustrated with indefinite objects. The examples cited below amplify on our earlier discussion (Ch. 6, §6.4.3). 10.3.2.2
Reference and lexically-inherent modality As noted earlier, all lexical verbs carry some inherent modality, a fact that is apparent from the application of rule (12)/(13) to their objects: (14) a. Fact-realis He has a dog (> a particular dog; Ref) (*> any dog; *Non-Ref) b. Irrealis He wants a dog (> a particular dog; Ref) (> any dog; Non-Ref) c. Negation He lacks a dog (> any dog; Non-Ref) (*a particular dog; *Ref) The vast majority of lexical verbs carry an inherent realis modality, so that — unless under the scope of some explicit non-fact grammatical operator — their indefinite object must be interpreted as referring. It is thus more economical to list the relatively few lexical verbs that carry an inherent irrealis, negation, or presupposition scope. Some of the more typical are:

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(15) a. Inherent irrealis verbs want, like, look for, dream of, think of, believe in b. Inherent negative verbs lack, refuse, decline, miss, fail c. Inherent presuppositional verbs know, forget, regret, be happy 10.3.2.3
Reference and tense-aspect As noted earlier (Ch. 6, §6.4.3.4), tense-aspects correlate with modality in a highly predictable fashion: (16) Distribution of modality in tense-aspects modality

tense

aspect

fact

past present

perfective perfect progressive

non-fact

future

habitual repetitive

Predictably, the fact tense-aspects allow only a referring interpretation of their indefinite object: (17) a. Past He ate a sandwich b. Past-perfect He had eaten a sandwich c. Present perfect He has eaten a sandwich d. Present progressive He is eating a sandwich In contrast, the non-fact tense-aspects in (18) admit a non-referring interpretation of the indefinite object. Indeed, in the case of negation (18c) that is the only possible interpretation: (18) a. Future He will eat a sandwich b. Habitual He always eats a sandwich (for lunch) c. Negation He did not eat a sandwich

444 Syntax

10.3.2.4
Reference and irrealis adverbs As noted earlier (Ch. 6, §6.4.3.5), epistemic adverbs affect an irrealis scope over the clause in which they are lodged. And their presence overrides the fact modality of realis tenseaspects. An indefinite object with such irrealis operators can indeed be interpreted as nonreferring, as in (19b–f), compared with (19a): (19) a. b. c. d. e.

She ate a sandwich Maybe she ate a sandwich He is probably eating a sandwich She has undoubtedly eaten a sandwich She had most likely eaten a sandwich

10.3.2.5
Reference and verb complements As noted earlier (Ch. 6, §6.4.3.6.1), the modality of a complement clause is determined by the inherent modal properties of the main verb that governs it. Modality and manipulation verbs are each divided into three modal groups. Under the realis scope of implicative verbs, indefinite objects in the complement can only be referring. Under the irrealis scope of nonimplicative verbs, they can also be non-referring. And under the negative scope of NEG-implicative verbs, they can only be non-referring. Thus compare: (20) Reference under the scope of modality verbs a. Simple clause (realis) She ate a sandwich (> a specific one) b. Implicative = realis complement She managed to eat a sandwich (… She ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-implicative = irrealis complement She wanted to eat a sandwich (… / She ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. NEG-implicative = negative complement She failed to eat a sandwich (… She didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich) English modal auxiliaries, the grammaticalized product of non-implicative modality verbs, predictably spread an irrealis scope over the clause, so that indefinite objects under their scope can be interpreted as non-referring: (21) a. She ate a sandwich b. She may have eaten a sandwich

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c. She could have eaten a sandwich d. She should have eaten a sandwich A similar three-way modal contrast obtains in the complements of manipulation verbs: (22) Reference under the scope of manipulation verbs a. Simple clause (realis) He ate a sandwich (> a specific one) b. Implicative = realis complement She made him eat a sandwich (… He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-implicative = irrealis complement She told him to eat a sandwich (… / He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. NEG-implicative = negative complement She prevented him from eating a sandwich (… He didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich) Perception-cognition-utterance (P-C-U) verbs are also divided into three modal types: factive with fact modal scope, non-factive with irrealis modal scope, and NEG-factive with negative modal scope. The reference status of indefinite objects in the complements of P-C-U verbs bear out this modal assignment: (23) Reference under the scope of P-C-U verbs a. Simple clause (realis) He ate a sandwich (> a specific sandwich) b. Factive = presupposed complement She knew that he ate a sandwich (… He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) c. Non-factive = irrealis complement She thought that he ate a sandwich (… / He ate a sandwich) (> a specific sandwich) (> any sandwich) d. NEG-factive = negative complement She lied that he ate a sandwich (… He didn’t eat a sandwich) (> no sandwich)

445

446 Syntax

10.3.2.6
Reference and modality in adverbial clauses Adverbial clauses come under the scope of either presupposition (fact), irrealis or negation (see Vol. II, Ch. 18). In presupposed Adv-clauses, only a referring interpretation of an indefinite object is possible: (24) a. Past-perfective temporal Adv clause When she found a house, it was too expensive (… she found a house) (> a specific house) b. Concessive Adv clause Although she found a house, she refused to buy it (… she found a house) (> a specific house) c. Cause Adv clause Because he met a new guru, he left the church (… he met a new guru) (> a specific guru) In irrealis Adv-clauses, a non-referring interpretation of the indefinite object is possible: (25) a. Future time Adv clause When you get a loan, I’ll sell you my car. (… / you got a loan) (*> a specific loan) b. Conditional Adv clause If you get a loan, I’ll sell you my car (… / you got a loan) (*> a specific loan) c. Purpose Adv clause In order for you to get a loan, I’ll have to co-sign it (… / you got a loan) (*> a specific loan) Finally, counter-fact conditional clauses, under negative scope, force a non-referring interpretation of the indefinite object: (26) Counter-fact conditional Adv clause If you had got a loan, I would have sold you my car. (… you didn’t get a loan) (> no specific loan) 10.3.2.7
Reference and non-declarative speech acts As noted earlier (Ch. 6, §6.4.3.7), two types of non-declarative clauses, manipulatives and yes/no-questions, fall under the scope of irrealis. In the former, including commands,

Referential coherence
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requests or exhortations, the deontic sub-mode of irrealis is at issue; in the latter, the epistemic sub-mode. Under both, indefinite objects can be non-referring: (27) a. Declarative (realis) She bought a house. (> a specific house) b. Manipulative (irrealis) Go buy a house! (*> a specific house) c. Yes/no-question (irrealis) Did she buy a house? (*> a specific house) The reference status of nominals in the third type of non-declarative speech acts, wh-questions, is somewhat problematic. In one sense, it falls under the scope of presupposition, thus fact. That is: (28) a. Who bought a house? (… Someone bought a house) b. Where did she buy a house? (… She bought a house somewhere) c. When did she buy a house? (… She bought a house some time) d. Why did she buy a house? (… She bought a house for some reason) But there is suggestive evidence that the irrealis scope of the interrogative speech-act overrides the fact scope of presupposition, leastwise when it comes to predicting the referential status of indefinite objects in wh-questions. The relevant evidence comes from languages that mark grammatically the difference between referring and non-referring indefinites (see §10.4 below). One such language is Modern Hebrew, where referring indefinites are marked with the de-stressed numeral one, while non-referring indefinites are zero-marked. Under irrealis scope in a declarative clause, both referring and non-referring indefinite objects are admitted. Under the scope of negation, only a non-referring indefinite: (29) a. Irrealis, Ref hi mexapeset ish-xad she-hayta tsrixa li-fgosh kan she search/imperf man-one rel-was/3fem.sg must/fem.sg to-meet here ‘She’s looking for a man she was supposed to meet here’ b. Irrealis, Non-Ref hi mexapeset l-a ish, ve-im hi timtsa mishehu… she search/imperf dat-3sg.masc man and-if she find/fut anybody ‘She’s looking for a man, and if she finds one…’

447

448 Syntax

c. *Negation, Ref *hi lo raata sham ish-xad she neg saw/3fem.sg there man-one d. Negation, Non-Ref hi lo raata sham af ish she neg saw/3fem.sg there even man ‘She didn’t see any man there’ In wh-questions in Hebrew, only the non-referring indefinites seem admissible. Thus, compare with (28) above: (30) a. Non-referring Mi kana bayit sham? who bought house there ‘Who bought a house there?’ b. Referring *Mi kana bayit-xad sham? who bought house-one there c. Non-referring efo hi kanta bayit? where she bought house ‘Where did she buy a house?’ d. Referring *efo hi kanta bayit-xad? where she bought house-one In this way, the behavior of indefinites objects under the scope of wh-questions parallels their behavior under the scope of negation (30c,d). 10.3.2.8
Reference in nominal predicates A well-known grammatical context in which referentiality contrasts are found much like under the scope of irrealis is that of nominal predicates. As noted by Donellan (1966), either a referring or non-referring (‘attributive’) use of indefinite NPs can obtain in this context. While this contrast is a matter of semantic interpretation in English, it is a grammaticallymarked distinction in languages such as Hebrew: (31) a. Non-referring (attributive) hi isha tseira she woman young/fem.sg ‘She’s a young woman’ b. Referring zot isha-xat she-pagashti be-yrushalayim this/fem.sg woman-one rel-met/1sg in-Jerusalem ‘She’s a woman I met in Jerusalem’

Referential coherence
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One way of relating this contrast to modality, and thus our predictions (12)/(13), is by noting that nominal predicates are inherently habitual and thus timeless, even when cast in the past tense, as in: (32) a. Non-referring She was a young woman b. Referring She was a woman I met in college The habitual tense/aspect is, for the purpose of predicting reference at least, a sub-mode of irrealis. 10.3.3 Gradations of referentiality So far, our description of reference in the Universe of Discourse, based on the speaker’s referential intent, resembles the traditional logical-semantic approach in one crucial respect: It posits a discrete binary choice between the referring and non-referring interpretations of nominals. But the facts of natural languages suggest the rather disturbing possibility of a continuum between a clearly referring and a clearly non-referring interpretation: (33) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

Did you see anything there? Did you see anybody there? Did you see any man there? Did you see some man there? Did you see a man there? Did you see a tall man there? Did you see a man wearing blue shirt there? Did you see a man there wearing a blue shirt and sitting on a red barrel and twirling a silver baton in his left hand?

There is a clear gradation from (33a) to (33h), seemingly along either a speaker-anchored psychological dimension or a hearer-anchored probabilistic dimension, respectively: strong is the speaker’s intention to refer to a specific individual? •
How
How • high is the probability that the speaker is referring to a specific individual? The gradation in (33) seems to be coded systematically in the grammar of English, where three major devices are combined together to yield the fine-grained scale: (34) Grammatical devices coding referential strength a. The scale of indefinite articles: any > some > a b. The scale of restrictive modification: less > more c. The scale of noun specification: thing > person > specific noun

449

450 Syntax

Finally, although in principle our prediction (12)/(13) allows referential opacity under the scope of irrealis, various sub-modes of irrealis seem to exhibit varying probabilities of a referring interpretation of indefinites under their scope, roughly along the scale: (35) a. Realis (Ref) She’s buying a house b. Future She’ll buy a house c. Modal complement She wants to buy a house d. Modal She might buy a house e. Conditional If she buys a house, … f.

Subjunctive conditional If she really bought a house, …

g. Wh-question (Non-Ref?) Who bought a house? h. Negation (Non-Ref) She didn’t buy a house The governing principle of this gradation seems to be: more likely the event is to occur, the more likely it is that nominals •
The under irrealis scope are to be interpreted as referring.

10.4

The grammatical marking of indefinite reference

10.4.1 Preamble As noted earlier above, the English indefinite article does not indicate whether a nominal marked by it is intended to refer or not to refer. Rather, it simply marks the fact that the referent is being introduced into the discourse for the first time, with the speaker making no assumption about familiarity or accessibility of the referent to the hearer. Such an presumption — indeed presupposition — would indeed be the foundation of definite marking of nominals in English (see §10.6 below), where the indefinite-definite contrast is strongly marked. In many other languages, the grammatical morphology marks just as distinctly the contrast between referring and non-referring indefinites. In this section we will survey some of the more common grammaticalized patterns of marking referring-indefinite nominals.

Referential coherence
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10.4.2 The numeral ‘one’ as reference marker The most grammaticalized marker of referring indefinites is probably the humeral one, as seen in the Hebrew examples (29), (30), (31) above. This marking pattern is found, in various developmental stages, in many unrelated languages and language families, such as Mandarin Chinese, Turkish, Hebrew, Sherpa and many Indo-European languages (Givón 1981a). Most conspicuously, this is the marking pattern in all Creole languages (Bickerton 1975, 1977, 1981), where the numeral one marks REF-indefinites, while zero marks nonreferring indefinites. As an illustration, consider the following from Hawaii English Creole (Bickerton 1975, 1977): (36) Realis a. Referring i rid wan-buk he read one-book ‘He read a book’ (> a specific book) b. *Non-referring *i rid buk he read book (37) Presupposition a. Referring i hapi i rid wan-buk he happy he read one-book ‘He’s happy that he read a book’ (> a specific book) b. *Non-referring *i hapi i rid buk he happy he read book (38) Irrealis a. Referring i want rid wan-buk he want read one-book ‘He wanted to read a book’ (> a specific book) b. Non-referring i want rid buk he want read book ‘He wanted to read a book’ (> no specific book) (39) NEG-assertion a. *Referring-indefinite *i no-rid wan-buk he no-read one-book

451

452

Syntax

b. Non-referring i no-rid buk he no-read book ‘He didn’t read a/any book’ (> no specific book) c. Referring-definite i no-rid di-buk he no-read the-book ‘He didn’t read the book’ (> a specific book) 10.4.3 The demonstrative ‘this’ as reference marker The de-stressing and grammaticalization of the proximate demonstrative this into a REF-indefinite article in spoken English is well documented (Prince 1981; Wald 1983), parallelling the grammaticalization of the unstressed that as a definite article. In spoken English, the REF-indefinite this then contrasts with the de-marked old indefinite article a(n), historically the REF-indefinite one of Anglo-Saxon. While this can only mark referring indefinite, a(n) continues to mark either referring or non-referring ones (but see §10.5 below). (40) Realis a. Referring I met this girl yesterday, and… (> a specific girl) b. Referring I met a girl yesterday, and… (> a specific girl) (41) Irrealis a. Referring I was looking for this girl yesterday, and… (> a specific girl) b. Opaque or non-referring I was looking for a girl yesterday, so… (?> a specific/non-specific girl) (42) Negation a. *Referring-indefinite:5 *I was not looking for this girl yesterday b. Non-referring I was not looking for a girl yesterday (> no specific girl) (43) Nominal predicate a. Referring Marvin is this painter I told you about

Referential coherence
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453

b. Opaque or non-referring Marvin is a painter A grammaticalized pattern that originated historically from the same source (Greenberg 1977) but is diachronically much older and fully mature may be seen in Bemba (Bantu). In this language, the simple CV- form of the noun prefix codes non-referring indefinites, while the augmented V-CV- form codes referring NPs, with definiteness left unmarked. Thus consider (Givón 1972, 1973b): (44) Realis a. Referring a-a-somene ici-tabo 3sg-past-read ref-book ‘s/he read a/the book’ b. *Non-referring *a-a-somene ci-tabo 3sg-past-read nref-book

(> a specific book)

(*> no specific book)

(45) Irrealis a. Referring a-a-fwaayile uku-soma ici-tabo 3sg-past-want inf-read ref-book ‘s/he wanted to read a/the book’ (> a specific book) b. Non-referring a-a-fwaayile uku-soma ci-tabo 3sg-past-want inf-read nref-book ‘s/he wanted to read a book’ (> no specific book) (46) Negation a. Referring-definite ta-a-a-somene ici-tabo neg-3sg-past-read ref-book ‘s/he didn’t read the book’ *‘s/he didn’t read a book’ b. Non-referring ta-a-a-somene ci-tabo neg-3sg-past-read nref-book ‘He didn’t read a/any book’

(> no specific book)

(47) Nominal predicate a. Referring Joni umu-puupu uo n-a-mweene J. ref-thief rel 1sg-past-see/asp ‘J. is a/the thief I saw’ (> a specific one)

454

Syntax

b. Non-referring Joni muu-puupu J. nref-thief ‘J. is a thief’

(> no specific one)

10.4.4 Noun classifiers and reference markers The last known source of grammaticalized REF-indefinite markers are nominal classifiers. While not widely reported, at least one case has been well documented, in Jacaltec (Mayan). Jacaltec classifiers are grammatically versatile, serving as anaphoric pronouns and definite articles (Craig 1986a,c). Indefinite nouns are marked with ‘one’,6 and referring indefinites are further marked with the classifier. Thus (Ramsay 1985): (48) a. Non-referring (‘one’) “uk’ hune7 hatrago” xihab’ heb’ naj drink one your.drink said pl cl/pro ‘“Have a drink” they said…’ b. Referring (‘one’ + classifier) yajha7 b’ay xkam naj tu7, xchib’ hune7 te7 te7 but where died cl that, grew one cl tree ‘but where he died, there grew a tree…’ 10.4.5 Grammatical devices that mark non-reference One must note, in passing, that a number of devices that can be used to mark semantically non-referring — and thus pragmatically non-topical (see §10.5 below) — objects may be grouped under the heading of the antipassive construction (see Vol. II, Ch. 13). One of those is plural marking of objects, as in: (49) a. Past, singular Obj: He bought a book b. Past, plural Obj: He bought books c. Past-habitual, plural Obj: He used to buy books d. Habitual, plural Obj: He buys books all the time While ‘books’ in (49b,c) are (strictly speaking) semantically referring, being under realis modal scope, plurality strongly imparts the irrelevance of their individual reference. Indeed, plural objects have a strong association with the irrealis-like habitual tense/aspect, and both taken together associate strongly with the antipassive (Hopper and Thompson 1980). Pluralization as a mark of non-reference (or non-topicality) thus contrasts with the use of the numeral one to mark referentiality (or topicality).

Referential coherence
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Object incorporation is another common device used to mark non-referring objects, and thus the antipassive function. As an illustration, consider again Ute (Uto-Aztecan), where object nouns lose its nominal suffix when incorporated (Givón 1980): (50) a. Referring definite yoghovu =-chi ’uway pakha-ukh-kwa coyote-acc def/acc kill-asp-perf ‘s/he killed the coyote’ b. Referring indefinite yoghovu =-chi pakha-ukh-kwa coyote-acc kill-asp-perf ‘s/he killed a coyote’ c. Non-referring yoghovu =-pakha-ukh-kwa coyote-kill-asp-perf ‘s/he killed (some) coyotes’ ‘s/he did some coyote-killing’ d. Habitual, non-referring yoghobu =-pakha-miy(a) coyote-kill-hab ‘s/he kills coyotes’ e. Habitual agentive-nominalization yoghobu =-pakha-miy(a)-t ’ura-’ay coyote-kill-hab-nom be-imm ‘s/he’s a coyote-killer’ A more extensive discussion of antipassives is found in Vol. II, Ch. 13.

10.5

The pragmatics of indefinite reference: Denotation vs. topicality So far, we have described the grammatical marking of nominal reference from an essentially semantic perspective. True enough, it involved the referential intent of the speaker. But otherwise it still involved denotation, albeit in the Universe of Discourse, and was computed for each individual clause depending on its own modal envelope. A more careful inspection of the use of marked referring indefinite NPs suggests that the contrast marked by the grammar is inherently pragmatic, and is sensitive to cataphoric topicality, i.e. to the importance of the indefinite NP in the subsequent discourse. This may be illustrated first with the use of the referring-indefinite marker one in Spoken Hebrew. As noted above, when Hebrew clauses are studied in isolation, the numeral one seemed to mark semantically-referring indefinites, while zero marks non-referring indefinite. When clauses are placed in their natural discourse context, some semantically-referring nouns turn out to still be marked by zero. As an illustration, compare (Givón 1981a):

455

456 Syntax

(51) a. …az nixnasti le-xanut sfarim ve-kaniti sefer-xad, …then entered-I to-store-of books and-bought-I book-one ‘…so I went into a bookstore and bought a book, ve-ratsti habayta ve-karati oto, and-ran-I home and-read-I it and I ran home and read it, ve-ze beemet haya sefer metsuyan… and-it truly was-it book excellent…’ and it was truly a terrific book b. …az nixnasti le-xanut sfarim ve-kaniti sefer, …so entered-I to-store-of books and-bought-I book ‘…so I went into a bookstore and bought a book, ve-ratsti habayta ve-axalti aruxat erev and-ran-I home and-ate-I meal-of evening and I ran home and ate supper ve-halaxti li-shon… and-went-I to-sleep and went to sleep…’ In both (51a) and (51b) above, ‘a book’ is semantically referring. Nonetheless, the cataphoric discourse context makes it more natural to use the REF-indefinite marker one in (51a), but to leave the noun unmarked in (51b). But why? The answer is reasonably transparent: In (51a), where one runs home and proceeds to read the book and discusses it, the specific referential identity of the book matters, it remains topical in the subsequent discourse. In (51b), one does some ‘book-buying’, then goes about one’s routine. The book is never mentioned again, its specific referential identity doesn’t matter. While at first intuitive, the pragmatic motivation of marking indefinite nouns with the numeral one was validated in quantified text-frequency studies in two languages with a similar indefinite marking system, Krio (Givón 1985b), and Mandarin Chinese (Huang 1985). In both, indefinite NPs introduced into the discourse as marked by one persist in the subsequent text much longer than zero-marked indefinites. The very same phenomenon has been shown with the use of the indefinite this in Spoken English. As an illustration, consider first the following letter, from a Dear Abby column sometime in the early 1980s:7 (52) “Dear Abby: There’s this guy I’ve been going with for near three years. Well, the problem is that he hits me. He started last year. He has done it only four or five times, but each time it was worse than before. Every time he hits me it was because he thought I was flirting (I wasn’t). Last time he accused me of coming on to a friend of his. First he called me a lot of dirty names, then he punched my face so bad it left me with a black eye and black-and-blue bruises over half of my face. It was very noticeable, so I told my folks that the car I was riding in

Referential coherence
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457

stopped suddenly and my face hit the windshield. Abby, he’s 19 and I’m 17, and already I feel like an old married lady who lets her husband push her around. I haven’t spoken to him since this happened. He keeps bugging me to give him one more chance. I think I’ve given him enough chances. Should I keep avoiding him or what? Black and Blue” The following facets in the use of the unstressed this vs. a(n) in (52) are indeed striking: REF-indefinite participant introduced by this continues to recur throughout the •
The subsequent text, and is obviously the most topical participant after the speaker

• •

herself (I).
The other REF-indefinite participant in the text, introduced by a(n) (‘a friend of his’) never recurs, his specific identity being wholly incidental to the story.
The only other indefinite in the text (‘an old married lady’ introduced by a(n), is purely attributive and again does not recur further (beyond the embedded RELclause ‘who lets her husband push her’).

In a more explicit quantified study, the cataphoric text-recurrence of this-marked vs. a(n)-marked indefinites was measured in oral narratives elicited from four 7–10 year old boys. Typical examples of indefinite nouns in the texts were (Wright and Givón 1987): (53) a. Subject ‘this’ ‘…there’s these two guys…’ b. Object ‘this’ ‘…he saw this great bear…’ c. Subject ‘a(n)’ ‘…and there was a fly to third base…’ d. Object ‘a(n)’ ‘…he saw this monkey holding a candy bar…’ The topic persistence (TP) of referents — the average number of times a referent was mentioned in the 10 clauses immediately following its first introduction into the discourse — was measured for the four grammatical categories in (53). The numerical distribution of the four categories in the combined texts, and their average TP measures are tabulated in (54) below. (54) Text distribution of grammatical devices marking indefinite nouns in English and their average Topic Persistence (TP) (Wright and Givón 1987) subject categ.

N

%

this a(n)

28 13

65 12

non-subject TP 6.95 1.54

N

%

15 94

35 88

total

TP 2.40 0.56

N

%

43 107

100 100

TP 5.32 0.68

458

Syntax

The figures given in (54) may be summarized as follows: more frequently (65%) marks subject NPs. •
This
This-marked NPs have much higher TP value. •
A(n) overwhelmingly marks objects NPs. •
A(n)-marked NPs have(88%) much TP value. •
Subject NPs with either markerlower have much higher TP values than object NPs. • The total text-distribution of high-persistence tokens (TP > 2) vs. low-persistence tokens (TP 0–2) in the four grammatical categories was also analyzed, with the results summarized in (55) below. (55) Distribution of high-persistence (TP > 2) vs. low-persistence (TP 0–2) tokens within the indefinite grammatical categories in English (Wright and Givón 1987) this subject

a(n)

non-subj

total

subject

non-subj

total

TP

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

N

%

0–2 2
2) vs. low-persistence (TP 0–2) tokens within the indefinite grammatical categories in Jacaltec (Ramsay 1985) hune7 + CL subject

10.6

hune7 alone

non-subj %

total

subject

N

N

%

N

%

%

non-subj

total

TP

N %

N

0–2 2
20

f. Def-noun with modifier(s)

10.0

55% scattered 5–19 45% at > 20

g. L-dislocated Def-N

15.0

60% at > 20 25% at 4–9 13% at 10–19

One must emphasize that anaphoric distance (AD) is only a heuristic measure for assessing the type of anaphoric accessibility. Much like the cataphoric measure of topic persistence (TP) above, AD does not purport to directly measure the referent’s mental accessibility. Nonetheless, it tends to correlate with, and indeed illuminate, some of the major mental structures and operations involved in discourse processing. The main division in (64) is between devices that signal maximal referential continuity (64a,b) and those that signal referential discontinuity (64c–g): (65) maximal continuity fi zero anaphora, unstressed pronoun referential discontinuity fi stressed pronouns, full lexical nouns But as we shall note further below, this rough division is only the very tip of the iceberg in the vast array of grammatical devices used to code referential coherence. As an example of how this major distinction is deployed in text, consider again the fiction passage used to illustrate the function of anaphoric pronouns (Ch. 9, §9.5). The maximally-continuous referents in the text are bold-faced; the discontinuous ones are italicized (L’Amour 1962, p. 7): (66) “…It was unlikely that the killers remained in the area, but Shalako was not a trusting man. Within the mouth of the draw he drew rein. again. With his first glance he recognized the body for what it was. He circled it wearily as a wolf, [Ø] studying it from all angles, and when finally he stopped within a dozen feet of the dead man, he knew much of what had happened at this place. The dead man had ridden a freshly shod horse into the playa from the north, and when [Ø] shot he had tumbled from the saddle and the horse had galloped

464 Syntax

away. Several riders on unshod ponies had then approached the body and one had dismounted to [Ø] collect the weapons. The clothing had not been stripped off, nor was the body mutilated…” Cognitively, the maximal-continuity anaphoric devices signal the continued activation of the current topical referent. Strictly speaking, such a referent is under current attention focus, thus represented in both working memory and episodic memory. Discontinuous referent-coding devices, on the other hand, signal — at least if the referent is further marked as topical — the terminated activation of the current topical referent, thus the activation of a new topical referent. A new referent may have no prior anaphoric trace in the episodic memory of the current text trace, in which case it is marked as indefinite. Some of those are referring-indefinites, thus likely to be activated as important topics (‘a freshly shod horse’, ‘several riders’, ‘unshod ponies’). Others are attributive or non-referring, thus unlikely to be topical (‘a trusting man’, ‘rein’, ‘a wolf’). But a new referent may have an episodic trace, in which case it is marked as definite (‘the killers’, ‘the area’, ‘the draw’, ‘the body’, ‘the dead man’, ‘the playa’, ‘the horse’). Still, several definite NPs in (66) are double-anchored and frame-dependent (‘the mouth of’, ‘the north’, ‘the saddle’, ‘the weapons’, ‘the clothing’). And at least one is situationally anchored (‘this place’). Short-distance discontinuous definite devices (64c,d) tend to signal the activation of a new referent without terminating the current clause-chain, or even without the complete de-activation of the current topical referent. The sole example of this in (66), with the stressed pronoun ‘one’, is anaphorically grounded — as member of a group — to the previous active topic ‘several riders’. Passage (66) also furnishes one example of a definite NP with restrictive modification (64f) (‘the dead man’), an important grammatical device for cuing a more fine-grained search in episodic memory (see further below). 10.6.5 Proper names and global access Passage (66) above also contains one well-known definite device, a proper name (‘Shalako’), used to code definite referents whose definiteness is text-based and thus anchored to episodic memory — but globally rather than locally. In (66), it is the name of the main character of the novel, introduced earlier on and thus considered accessible for as long as the novel lasts. Indeed, the naming occurs most appropriately in the very first sentence of the novel (L’Amour 1962, p. 1): (67) “For seven days in the Spring of 1882 the man called Shalako heard no sound but the wind…” Names are not only assigned to unique globally-important persons, but also to unique and globally-important spatial or temporal referents. The notion of ‘current text’ within which the name is globally important is also fairly well circumscribed. Thus consider:

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(68) a. b. c. d. e.

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name

referent type

current text

Dorian Gray George Washington John Lima, Perú The Civil War

person person person location time

a novel US history one’s life world geography US history

Some names require a hybrid referential access. For their referent to be uniquely defined, it must be relationally anchored. As in the case of frame-based anchoring definite nouns, the relational anchoring of names depends heavily on generically-shared lexical-cultural knowledge. Typical examples are: (69) a. b. c. d. e.

name

text

convention

Mom, Dad home Tuesday January Christmas

one’s life one’s life each week each year each year

a person has only one Mom and Dad a person has only one home at a time each week has only one Tuesday each year has only one January each year has only one Christmas

In discourse, names are used in similar contexts of referential discontinuity as full definite NPs. That is, they re-introduce participant into the discourse after a considerable gap of absence. However, while the anaphoric anchoring of definite NPs in episodic memory is relatively local, names are globally accessible for the duration of the current text. The difference in referential accessibility between relationally-anchored (69) and nonrelational (68) names is roughly as follows: A non-relational name must be first established in the text. Once established, it is accessible for the duration of the text. A relationallyanchored name, on the other hand, is accessible once its anchor — another referent — has been made accessible. To illustrate the difference, consider: (70) a. Dad was born in 1913. b. Mary was born in 1913. c. Mary’s dad was born in 1913. The anaphoric anchor of ‘Dad’ in (70a) is the speaker (‘I’), accessible through the shared speech situation. ‘Dad’ is automatically accessible by the situational accessibility of ‘I’, coupled with the lexical-cultural frame of ‘fatherhood’. The anaphoric accessibility of Mary in (70b), on the other hand, depends on her prior introduction in the current text, as is Mary in (70c). But Mary’s dad in (70c), with hybrid anchoring, is accessible by virtue of Mary’s text-based accessibility, coupled with the culturally-shared accessibility of father.

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10.6.6 Generic subjects Russell (1905) and other logicians took it for granted that generic subjects — marked formally with the universal quantifiers — were non-referring. Unfortunately, this flies in the face of the linguistic data, where the subject case-role is the quintessential topical and thus referring participant. The only peculiarity of generic subjects is that they topicalize — thus refer to — the type (genus, species) rather than to a token. In English, generic subjects typically appear in four distinct grammatical forms: (71) a. Definite singular The lion is a dangerous feline. b. Indefinite singular A lion is a dangerous feline. c. Indefinite plural Lions are dangerous. d. Quantified indefinite plural All lions are dangerous. Many lions are dangerous. Some lions are dangerous. The suggestion that from a discourse-pragmatic perspective generic subjects are just as referring as any other subject is borne out by the facts of usage. Thus, the singular-definite (71a), singular-indefinite (71b) or plural (71c,d) generic subject are treated similarly in subsequent discourse, with similar anaphoric pronouns — ‘it’, ‘they’ or zero, just like referring nominals: (72) a. The/a lion is a dangerous feline. It lives in the open veld in Africa, [Ø] hunts animals, and sometime [Ø] attacks people. b. (All) lions are dangerous felines. They live in the open veld in Africa, [Ø] hunt animals, and sometime [Ø] attack people. Non-referring objects, on the other hand, show a three-way possible contrast in terms of their reference status. Two of these we have already noted above — reference to a token vs. non-reference (§10.3). The third possibility is reference to a topicalized type, much like generic subjects. Thus contrast: (73) a. Token reference He wanted to trap a/the lion that [Ø] killed two of his cows. b. Non-reference He wanted to trap a lion to mount [Ø] as a trophy. c. Generic He thought about the Lion, and how majestic it is. Unlike generic subjects, generic objects can be coded by only two of the four forms that coded generic subjects. Thus compare with (71) above:

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(74) a. Definite singular He thought about the Lion and how majestic it is. b. *Indefinite singular *He thought about a lion, and how majestic it was. c. Indefinite plural He thought about lions and how majestic they are. d. *Quantified indefinite plural *He thought about all lions and how majestic they are. In many languages, the grammar makes the topicality and referentiality of generic subjects much more transparent. For example, in Spanish generic subjects are most commonly marked as definite, and as such may remain ambiguous as to whether they are referring to tokens or types: (75) a. me dan miedo los leones me give/pl fear the lions ‘lions frighten me’ ‘the (particular) lions frighten me’ b. me da miedo el león me give/sg fear the lion ‘lions frighten me’ ‘the (particular) lion frightens me’ c. *me dan miedo leones me give/pl fear lions In Bemba, where a strong grammatically-marked REF/NON-REF distinction exists, subjects — unlike objects — can only be marked as referring, and may then be either referring-definite or generic, in both singular and plural: (76) a. aba-ntu baa-suma ref-human nref-good Ï
‘The (particular) people are good’ Ì
‘People are good’ Ó b. *ba-ntu baa-suma nref-human nref-good c. umu-ntu muu-suma ref-human nref-good Ï
‘the (particular) man is good’ Ì Ó
‘people are good’ d. *mu-ntu muu-suma nref-human nref-good

(ref-def) ¸ ˝ (generic) ˛

(ref-def) ¸ ˝ (generic) ˛

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10.6.7 Gradation of definite description We noted earlier above (§10.3.3) that reference, or the probability of referential intent, can be scalar. The same may be shown for definiteness. In this case, what may be at issue is the completeness of definite description. Consider: (77) a. The man who killed Smith was insane. (i) I know who that man was, and he was insane (ii) Someone killed Smith, I have no idea who, but whoever he may be, he was insane. b. The man who killed Smith was an insane carpenter. c. The man who killed Smith was an insane carpenter who spent years in Mayhem before escaping… d. The man who killed Smith was a good friend of mine. e. The man who killed Smith was my good friend Archie. In each case in (77), ‘someone killed Smith’ is presupposed. But in (77a) both senses (i) and (ii) are equally natural. As the description gets richer and more detailed down the scale (77b–e), the probability of the under-specified sense (ii) decreases, and that of the fullyspecified (i) increases. Fundamentally, the contrast between (i) and (ii) in (77a) may still be a contrast between a referring (i) and attributive (ii) sense of the definite referent. But this only reinforces the suggestion (§10.6.6) that definiteness and topicality are essentially a pragmatic matter, applicable equally to either types or tokens. In other words, definite NPs are pragmatically referring, but not necessarily semantically referring.

10.7

The grammatical marking of definite NPs In this section we will survey some of the most common morpho-syntactic devices used to mark definiteness. As before, the typological discussion is profoundly diachronic, illuminating the most commonly attested grammaticalization pathways.

10.7.1 Distal demonstratives By a wide margin, the most common source of definite marking involves the re-grammaticalization of a distal demonstrative (‘that’, ‘yon’), converting its deixis from the spatial to the discourse domain. That is, from speech-situation grounding to episodic-memory grounding. The Germanic and Romance examples of this are sufficiently well-known. As further illustration, consider first Swahili, where demonstratives, in conformance with the noun-modifier word order, follow the noun. Of the three demonstratives, the distal one can be shifted to a pre-nominal slot, de-stressed, and used as a definite article: (78) a. bibi húyu b. bibi húyo

‘this woman’ ‘that woman (near)’

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c. bibi yúle d. yule bibi

469

‘that woman (far)’ ‘the woman’

A similar development but with the opposite word-order is found in Ute, where stressed demonstratives are pre-nominal, but the post-nominal placement of the de-stressed distal demonstrative converts it to a definite article: (79) a. b. c. d.

’ín mamach má mamach ’ú mamach mamach-’u

‘this woman’ ‘that woman (visible)’ ‘that woman (invisible)’ ‘the woman’

10.7.2 Noun classifiers In addition to grammaticalizing as referring indefinite markers, noun classifiers in Jacaltec have also grammaticalized, perhaps earlier, as both anaphoric pronouns and definite articles. This development parallels the well-known one in Romance and Germanic languages. The use of de-stressed — and sometime phonologically reduced — classifiers as definite articles in Jacaltec is best illustrated in cases where the classifier modifies the very same noun from which it is diachronically derived, a situation that makes its use as classifier altogether redundant. Thus (Craig 1986c): (80) a. b. c. d. e. f. g. h.

nók’ no7 nók’ ch’én ch’en ch’én náj naj wináj íx ix íx

‘animal’ ‘the animal’ ‘rock’ ‘the rock’ ‘man’ ‘the man’ ‘woman’ ‘the woman’

(animal > animate) (rock > small round object) (man > non-kin man) (woman > non-kin woman)

On the other hand, the use of the classifier qua classifier is clearer in cases where another determiner clearly codes definiteness (Craig 1986c): (81) a. xwóche ch’en óme tu7 like/1sg cl/rock earrings dem ‘I like those earrings’ b. xwóche te’ ak’b’al tu7 like/1sg cl/plant flower dem ‘I like that flower’ c. xcám hin no7 wácax died my cl/an cow ‘my cow died’ d. xcám hin metx tx’i7 died my cl/dog dog ‘my dog died’

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Finally, the use of classifier as anaphoric pronoun may be seen in (Craig 1986c): (82) a. xí naj tet ix said 3sg.masc to 3sg.fem ‘he said to her’ b. xí ix tet naj said 3sg.fem to 3sg.masc ‘she said to him’ In terms of their grammaticalization potential in the domain of definiteness and anaphora, Jacaltec classifiers seem to show a similar pattern as the one seen in demonstratives, above — with one exception: Having no deictic value, classifiers proceed directly to the anaphoric pronoun stage, without passing first through a demonstrative pronoun stage: (83) Grammaticalization potential of demonstratives Ï



























¸ Dem-pronoun fi Anaph-pronoun Dem-determiner fi Ì



























˝ Def-article Ó



























˛ In terms of cross-linguistic distribution, however, the rise of definite articles out of demonstrative determiners is much more common (Diessel 1999). 10.7.3 Definite-accusative markers As noted by Comrie (1975), many languages have a special accusative case-marker coding only definite direct-objects. In some languages of this type, the accusative marker coexists with the overtly-marked definite article. This is the case in Hebrew: (84) a. Non-REF-indefinite kaniti sefer bought/1sg book ‘I bought a book’ b. REF-indefinite kaniti sham sefer-xad bought/1sg there book-one ‘I bough a book there’ c. Definite kaniti et-ha-sefer bought/1sg acc-the-book ‘I bought the book’ d. Definite (name) kaniti et-Hamlet bought/1sg acc-Hamlet ‘I bought Hamlet’

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e. Definite (pronoun) kaniti ot-o bought/1sg acc-3fem.sg ‘I bought it’ In other languages, the DEF-accusative marker itself conflates case and definite marking, as in Turkish (Hennesy 1998): (85) a. Non-REF-indefinite adam elma al-di man apple but-past ‘The man bought (some) apples’ b. REF-indefinite adam bir-elma al-di man one-apple but-past ‘The man bought an apple’ c. Definite adam elma-yi al-di man apple-def/acc but-past ‘The man bought the apple’ An explanation of the naturalness of this feature, and its peculiar affinity to the direct object, will be given below (§10.7.7). 10.7.4 Direct object and dative shifting As noted earlier (chs 3, 4), the dative object of bi-transitive clauses is almost always more topical than the patient, and thus tends to claim the direct-object role, often automatically. Since topical objects are most commonly pre-established in the preceding discourse, dative objects in discourse tend to be overwhelmingly definite and anaphoric (Greenberg 1974; Givón 1984a). It is hardly surprising then that in many languages dative-shifting — making the dative the direct object — also has the effect of definitizing. This is already evident in English, where a patient DO may be either definite or indefinite, but the dative DO must be definite: (86) a. b. c. d. e.

She gave a book to the/a boy She gave the book to the/a boy She gave the boy a/the book *She gave a boy the book ?She gave a boy a book

In many languages, the definitizing effect of dative-shifting (i.e. promotion to DO) is enhanced by the fact that only the DO controls pronominal object agreement. In Spanish, this phenomenon is restricted to dative objects (Ch. 9, §9.3.2.3). In KinyaRwanda, this is generalized to all direct objects (Ch. 9, §9.3.2.5). Thus recall (Kimenyi 1976):

471

472 Syntax

(87) Obligatory ‘promotion’ of Dat/Ben to DO a. Dat/Ben = DO Yohani ya-mu-oher-er-eje umugore ibaruwa John/subj 3sg-her-send-ben-asp woman/obj letter ‘John sent the woman a/the letter’ b. *Pat object = DO *Yohani ya-ri-oher-er-eje umugore ibaruwa John/subj 3sg-it-send-ben-asp woman/obj letter (*‘J. sent the letter to the/a woman’) (88) Optional promotion of instrument to DO a. Pat = DO (unshifted) umugabo ya-gi-tem-eje igiti n-umupaanga man/subj he-cut-it-asp tree/obj instr-saw ‘The man cut the tree with a saw’ b. Instr = DO (shifted) umugabo ya-u-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man/subj he-it-cut-asp-instr saw/obj tree ‘The man used the saw to cut the/a tree’ c. *Pat = DO (shifted) *umugabo ya-gi-tem-ej-eesha umupaanga igiti man/subj he-it-cut-asp-instr saw/obj tree 10.7.5 Topicalization and definiteness As noted earlier (Ch. 9, §9.6), there is a strong correlation between some topicalizing constructions and both anaphora and definiteness. Constructions such as L-dislocation and Y-movement, for example, apply to either definite or generic NPs but not to REF-indefinite ones. They commonly also require a resumptive anaphoric pronoun (or verb agreement). Thus consider: (89) L-dislocation a. Definite As for the coyote, they didn’t kill it b. Generic As for coyotes, we don’t have them around here c. *REF-indefinite *As for a coyote, they didn’t kill it (90) Y-movement (Spanish) a. Definite a-Juan le-mataron primero, (a María mas tarde) obj-J. 3sg-killed/3pl first obj M. more late ‘Juan they killed first, (Maria later)

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b. Generic los tomates se-los-vende en Avril, (los piementos en Mayo) the tomatoes pass-3pl-sell in April the peppers in May ‘Tomatoes are sold in April(, peppers in May)’ c. *REF-indefinite *a un amigo se-le-matan primero, (a un enemigo…) obj one friend refl-3sg-kill/3pl first obj one enemy Since topicalizing constructions such as (89) and (90) tend to involve primarily referents that have already been introduced in the preceding discourse, their strong overlap with definiteness is only to be expected. 10.7.6 Pronominal object agreement As noted earlier (Ch. 9, §9.8.4), pronominal object agreement is a well-known device for marking objects as definite. The naturalness of this is closely associated with the natural association of definiteness with both topicalization and anaphora. 10.7.7 Definiteness, reference and case-roles An implicit theme in much of the discussion above is the differential association of the various semantic and grammatical case-roles with either definiteness or reference. This association can be summarized as follows (Greenberg 1974; Hetzron 1971; Keenan 1976a): (91) a. Subject overwhelming REF & DEF b. Object overwhelmingly REF; DEF or INDEF c. Dative/benefactive overwhelmingly REF & DEF d. Associative overwhelmingly REF & DEF e. Locative overwhelmingly REF & DEF f.

Time overwhelmingly REF & DEF

g. Instrumental overwhelmingly NON-REF & INDEF h. Manner overwhelmingly NON-REF & INDEF The strong association of case-role with either definiteness or indefiniteness is easy to understand:

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subject, dative/benefactive and associative roles are mostly definite because of •
The either their topicality or humanity or both.
The and temporal roles are mostly definite because of being elements of the • framelocative in natural discourse, usually set up first before the main participants are introduced.
The instrumental and manner roles are mostly indefinite because of non-topicality and non-reference.

•

The only major case-role with unpredictable definiteness is that of the object-patient. For all other case-roles, definiteness can be inferred with high predictability — 90% or more — from either the grammatical (subject) or semantic case-roles. This helps explain the existence of many languages — Japanese, Newari, Nupe, Bemba — in which definiteness either goes uncoded or is substantially under-grammaticalized. It also helps explain the identity of the one case-role that — consistently, cross-linguistically — conflates case and definiteness, the definite accusative: It is the only major case-role whose association with definiteness is unpredictable. The highly predictable distribution of definiteness, referentiality and topicality across case-roles also helps explain, lastly, the consistent exclusion of definite or indefinite markers, in languages that do have them, from, respectively, the locative and temporal cases (definite but non-topical), or the instrumental and manner cases (indefinite and non-topical): definite markers — most commonly arising from demonstratives — •
Grammaticalized arise first to mark topical definites.
Grammaticalized indefinite markers — most commonly arising from one, this or • classifiers — arise first to mark topical indefinites. Both the definite locative or time and the indefinite instrumental or manner have this feature in common — low topicality. In the grammaticalization of definiteness, it is the grammaticalization rather than its absence that needs to be explained. And it seems that the primary grammaticalization of both ‘definite’ and ‘indefinite’ is motivated by topicality. And that definiteness and indefiniteness are secondary by-products of this primary developmental mechanism. To paraphrase Ron Langacker, semantics is once again grammaticalized pragmatics. Or more precisely, grammaticalized pragmatics is the precursor of grammaticalized semantics.

10.8

The grammar of referential coherence as mental processing instructions In this section we return, this time more explicitly, to outline the cognitive underpinning of referential coherence, sketched out briefly in the preceding chapter (§9.5). The theoretical perspective pursued here relies heavily on the traditional cognitive and psycholinguistic work on semantic memory, working memory (attentional activation) and episodic memory (see §10.6 above).10 One may view topical referents, most commonly the subjects or objects of clauses, as the file labels pinned to the storage units of episodic memory. The lowest-level storage unit is

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the event/state clause (‘mental proposition’). In episodic memory, the clause is probably stripped of much of its grammatical marking (Gernsbacher 1985), and thus represented in some yet-to-be-understood lingua mentalis. The next hierarchic level of storage, the clause chain (or ‘thematic paragraph’), is a sequence of equi-topic clauses. That is, a chain of clauses through which the same topical referent most commonly persists. This persistent referent tends to be one of the semanticroles — participants — in the chained clauses, most commonly the agent, dative or patient, most commonly the grammatical subject, but occasionally also the grammatical object. In a complex text, a number of equi-topic chains make up a paragraph, a number of paragraphs make up an episode, etc. The structure of episodic memory is thus not only sequential but also hierarchic (Mandler 1978; Johnson and Mandler 1980; van Dijk and Kintsch 1983; Ericsson and Kintsch 1995). Each equi-topic chain in this complex hierarchic structure is the lowest-level text file, labeled by the topical referent, its file label. Incoming information, packaged in successive clause-like entities,11 must be filed unambiguously under one node only. In other words, only one node — via its file-label — can be activated at any given time. Activating a topical referent thus means activating the text-file for which it is the file-label. For the duration of the activation of that referent and its text-file, all subsequent incoming information is filed in that text-file. The various grammatical devices that partake in the grammar of reference and definiteness (i.e. of referential coherence) are the mental processing instructions that cue the text-interpreter toward performing various mental operations, in particular those involving attentional activation in working memory and search-and-retrieval in episodic memory. The main grammar-cued mental operations relevant to referential coherence are: (92) Major attentional operations a. (Default) Continue the activation of the currently-active file-label (thus of its text-file). b. Terminate the activation of the currently-active file-label (thus its text-file). c. Activate a currently inactive file-label (thus its text-file). (93) Major episodic memory search-and-retrieval operations a. Search in episodic memory and identify a referent that is already represented there. b. Retrieve an already-represented referent from episodic memory into working memory (attention focus) and make it the file-label of a new text-file. c. Initiate and activate a new text-file (with its file-label). d. File subsequent incoming information in the active text-file. The relation between the main grammatical cues responsible for marking referential coherence, and these major mental operations, is summarized in (99) below. The designation of marked [M] vs. unmarked [U] (‘default’) status to the various option is motivated by both text-frequency and cognitive complexity (Givón 1991b,e, 1995: Ch. 8).

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(94) Major grammar-cued cognitive operations involving referential coherence [Referent] [U] Continue Current Activation

[M] Defer decision on activation

[anaphoric PRO] [zero anaphora]

[full-NP] [stressed PRO] [name]

[M] Topical: Terminate current avtivation

[U] Non topical: Continue current avtivation

[SUBJ/OBJ case-roles] [REF/DEF morphemes] [word-order] [etc.]

[oblique case-roles] [NON-REF/INDEF morph.] [word-order]

[?] Definite Search for referent in extant representation

[?] Indefinite No search for referent in extant representation

[?] Definite

[?] Indefinite

File as new info in active file Retrieve from existing reprensentation Activate as new file-label File incoming information in new file

The grammatical cues that tag a referent as non-referring or non-topical remove it from potential status of file-label and consign it — by default — to the status of incoming new information, to be filed in the currently-active open text-file. The grammatical cues that tag a referent as referring or topical confer upon it the status of file-label — in addition to also remaining incoming new information. The grammatical cues that tag referents as indefinite instruct the hearer to not bother with a search for antecedence in extant mental representation. The grammatical cues that tag referents as definite trigger a search for their antecedence

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in some extant mental representation — working memory, episodic memory, lexicalsemantic memory. One must emphasize that the grammatical devices noted thus far — subject and object case-roles, anaphoric zeros and pronouns, reference and definiteness markers, word-order — are only part of the vast grammatical machinery invested in the signalling of referential coherence. True enough, these form the very core of the system, since they are found copiously in the most common clause-type in discourse. But many more grammatical devices partake in signalling referential coherence, and will be discussed in several chapters of Vol. II (noun modifiers, Ch. 11; voice, Ch. 13; Rel-clauses, Ch. 14; contrastive focus, Ch. 15; topicalization, Ch. 16; switch-reference, Ch. 18). Of these, many partake in signalling not only referential coherence but also higher levels of thematic coherence and discourse organization.

Notes 1. The title of Montague’s (1970) paper “Pragmatics and intentional logic” is a tacit concession to the inherently pragmatic nature of the Possible Worlds approach to non-referentiality. 2. Medieval philosophers persisted in using Aristotle’s terminology. The 20th Century entrenched de re vs. de dicto, respectively. Donellan (1966) is responsible for recasting the distinction, at least for some grammatical environments, as ‘referential’ vs. ‘attributive’, respectively. Many linguists have used the terms ‘specific’ vs. ‘generic’, respectively. 3. Russell (1905, p. 42) recognized an extra non-referring sense and thus three quantifiers — everything (universal), something (existential) and nothing (NEG-existential). As we shall see further below, this is due in part to a systematic confusion between predicate negation and the more marked NP-negation (see Ch. 8, §8.4 and 8.6.3). It is also in part the consequence of not recognizing the systematic effect of propositional modalities on the referential status of nominals under their scope. 4. The treatment here follows loosely Givón (1973b), but is equally compatible with Jackendoff (1971). 5. ‘This’ is of course acceptable here, but only as a stressed definite demonstrative. 6. It is likely that ‘one’ was initially a marker for only referring indefinites in Jacaltec, as seems to be invariably the case elsewhere, and was then generalized (de-marked) to all indefinites in Jacaltec, as was the case in English, French, German etc. (Givón 1981a). 7. Dear Abby’s advice column is one of the few places where one can find this recent innovation in a written text, though only occasionally and only in letters from young readers. Transcripts of spoken American English of uneducated rural whites 60 years or older (from my own field notes ca. 1980) don’t show any trace of this usage. 8. Divine inspiration, infallible intuition or telepathy could, at least in principle, be added to these three. With a nod to Wittgenstein, however — where words fail, let there be silence. 9. The relevant oeuvre is immense and rapidly expanding. My current list is thus both rudimentary and in need of constant updating. The citations below will serve, nonetheless, as a gentle entry into the cognitive and, more recently, neuroscience literature on memory and attention. To wit: Anderson, Garrod and Sanford (1983); Anderson and Shiffrin (1968); Baddeley (1986, 1992); Carpenter and Just 1988); Ericsson and Kintsch (1995); Gathercole and Baddeley (1993); Just and Carpenter (1992); Neeley (1990); Petri and Mishkin (1994); Posner and Snyder (1974); Schneider

477

478 Syntax

and Shiffrin (1977); Shallice (1988); Squire (1987); Squire and Zola-Morgan (1991); Swinney (1979); Walker and Yekovich (1987); Yekovich and Walker (1986). 10. This treatment follows the more expanded one in Givón (1991e, 1995: Ch. 8). 11. Wally Chafe (in personal communication but see also Chafe 1994) objects to the term ‘proposition’, as in van Dijk and Kintsch (1983), on the grounds that its smacks of the traditional logical analysis. This may be a matter of semantics, since what I call ‘mental propositions’ resemble neither the propositions of logic nor the fully-structured isolated clauses of generative grammar. The majority of clauses in coherent discourse are subjectless, often objectless, and occasionally even verbless (Chafe 1994; Givón 1999). And there is no reason to assume that implicit, anaphoric subjects, objects or verbs are ‘restored’ in episodic memory in the manner of the generativist’s traditional ‘deep structure’. But the facts of the matter remain that the lingua mentalis of episodic memory is yet to be fully elucidated.



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Index

A absolute tense 285 accomplishment 287 accomplishment verb 290 actions 106 active-stative 201 activity 287 activity/process verbs 291 adaptive explanation 25 adjacency principle 281 adjectives 49, 53, 81 adpositions 95 adverbial clauses 311, 323, 446 adverbs 49, 87, 91 affectedness 127, 213 affixes 54 agent 174 agentiveness 52 agentivity 127, 212 agrammatic aphasia 14 allative 174 alienable 135 anaphoric accessibility 198 anaphoric devices 420 anaphoric groundiing 459 anaphoric reference 399, 417, 459 anaphoric pronouns 417, 419, 423, 424 anaphoric zero 417 Andersen 38 animacy 56, 416, 426 animal communication 36 anteriority 293 antipassive 454 antonym 84 antonymic pairs 376 antonymic adjective pairs 83 apparent direct objects 149 arbitrariness 4, 34, 36, 37 Aristotle 2, 4, 17, 20, 440

articles 65, 97 artifactness 57 asserted 355 assertion 378 associative 132, 162 associative indirect object 142 aspect 70, 285, 287, 330, 337, 443 aspectuality 152 attention 460 attentional operations 475 attributive 124 Austin 282 automated processing 33, 36 auxiliaries 302, 338, auxilliary verbs 102 B backgrounded 355 behavior-and-control properties 175, 177, 178 benefactive 162, 174 Bickerton 11, 338, 363, 451 biology 3, 23 bitransitive prototype 143 bi-transitive verbs 142 Bloomfield 5, 20 Blumstein 15 Bokamba 282 Bolinger 2 boundedness 287 bound morphology 260 Brainard 217 Bresnan 282 DuBois 423 Bybee 23, 55, 281, 366, 367 C Carnap 4, 438 cataphoric persistence 198

494 Index

cataphoric topicality 455 categories 29 category labels 112 case agreement 429 case-marking morphemes 77, 259 case-marking systems 173, 197, 201 case-roles 399, 401, 427, 471 case-role markers 65 chained clauses 182 Chafe 7 change 372 Chomsky xvi, 6, 17, 18, 24, 27, 29, 36, 41, 117, 280 class 60, 401, 427 clausal subjects 158, 160 clausal (verbal) complements 150 clitic suffix pronouns 403 clitics 54 cliticization 265, 408, 417 co-verb constructions 167 cognate object constructions 166 cognate objects 133 cognition 154 cognitive representation 7 color 82 command 312 communicative coding 7 compact 287 compact verbs 289 compactness 51 compensatory strategy 19 competence 6, 280, 283 complement clause 151, 153 completion 294 complex clauses 118 complex predicates 164 complexity 50 conceptual lexicon 7 conceptual meaning 9 concreteness 50, 51, 56 configurationality 283 conjunctions 78, 99 connectives 99 constituency 110 contrastive focus 380 constructions 18 conventional rules 36 copular clauses 120 copular verbs 120, 125

countability 51, 57 counter-sequentiality 293, 295 counterfact-conditional 311 Craig 60 Creider 61 Creole 338 Creole prototype 338 Croft 280, 283 Current speech situation 460 D dative 141, 173, 174 dative-benefactive 143, 221 dative-object agreement 410 dative-object verbs 130 dative-shifting 178, 471 dative subject 192, 205 dative-subject verbs 129 Dear Abby 456 de-grammaticalization 400 deep ergative 217 definite-accusative markers 470 definite objects 433 definiteness 401, 416, 426, 437, 459, 473 deictic 402 deixis 399 degree of grammaticalization 217 Delancy 62, 328 de-marking of independent pronouns 421 demonstrative ‘this’ 452 demonstrative (deictic) pronoun 405 Denny 61 denotation 455 de-nominal negation markers 383 deontic 156, 300, 313 derivational morphemes 45, 67 derivational morphology 79 determiners 97 detransitive morphology 76, 87 de-verbal negation markers 382 diachronic 23 Dik, 2 direct-object 132, 174, 217 direct object agreement 411 direct quote 156 direct-quote complements 156 direct vs. Indirect objects 431

Index

495

discourse 8, 9 discourse coherence 9 discourse correlates of aspect 332 distal demonstratives 468 distributed lexical verbs 163 diversity 24 Dixon 217 double negation 268 Downing 62 dummy-subject verbs 118 duration 287 durative 352 E embedded questions 157 emergent grammar 27 emphatic negation 268, 392 episodic memory 460, 462, 475 epistemic 156, 159, 160, 300, 313 epistemic adverbs 92 epistemic certainty 365 epistemic modalities 301, 369 equi-subject 179 equi-subject/object complements 187 ergative 189 ergative-absolutive 208 ergativity feature hierarchies 215 evaluative 159, 160, 300 evaluative adverbs 93 event time 285, 286, 294, 296 events 106 evidential systems 327 evidentiality 326 evolutionary biology 24 excess structure 37 exclusion 401 exhortation 312 existence 459 existential-presentative clauses 191, 434. F fact 303, 304. factive 155, 310 factual truth 301 family resemblance 30 flexible word-order 271 frame-based 461

frequency 37 frequency text-distrbution 330 full-NPs 417, 419 full lexical nouns 463 functional correlates of grammatical relations 195 functional domain 23 future 286, 293 future perfect 297 Futuyama 37 G gender 56, 60, 401, 427 gender/class 399 generality 58 generative approach 280 generativity 27 generic 441 generic-lexical knowlege 461 generic subjects 466 genitive/possessive modifiers 256 Gernsbacher 277 global access 464 gobally accessible 465 goal 132 Gould 37 gradation of definite description 468 gradations of referentiality 449 gradients of transitivity 210 grammar 13 grammaticalization 23, 267, 340, 367, 399 grammaticalization of evidentiality 366 grammaticalization of negation markers 382 grammaticalizaiton of modality 355 grammatical agreement 407, 430 grammatical code 11 grammatical morphemes 45 grammatical morphology 60, 69, 85 grammatical relations 105, 108, 116, 173, 175, 198, 227, 280, 416, 426 grammatical roles 105 grammatical typology 20, 23 grammatical universals 20 grammaticalized subjunctives 313 Greenberg 20, 24, 38, 260, 267, 268

496 Index

H Haiman 24, 36, 281 habitual 289 Hale 279 Halliday 2 Harder 26 Harris 17, 18 Hawkins 235 head 59 head-modifier agreement 427 Heine 23, 367 Hopper 23, 27 Horn 396 humanity 416, 426 Humboldt 20 hierarchies of evidential strength 327 hierarchies of pronominal agreement 426 hierarchy 111 I iconicity 34, 36 ideophone constructions 168 ideophones 168 immediate 352, 353 immediate aspect 298 imperative 316 imperfective 288, 348 implicational hierarchies 416 inclusion 401 indefinite pronouns 435 in-sequence 295 inalienability 135 incorporated objects 79, 168 incorporated case-markers 168 incorporated patients 133 indefinite reference 441, 450 independent pronouns 99, 404, 417, 419 indirect object 137, 141, 143 indirect quote 156 individuation 57 information verbs 158 inflections 54 ingressive 174 inherent/lexical negation 397 inherent modality 302, 303 inherent perfectivity 287 inherent qualities 122

inherentness 54 instrumental adverbs 90 instrumental locative 147 instrument 162 instruments 131 interjections 102 intransitive verbs 126 inverse 190 irrealis 304, 312, 348 irrealis adverbs 305, 444 irrealis assertion 301, 302, 327, 369 irrealis conditional 349 J Jacobson 38 Jelinek 279, 283 Jespersen 1, 28, 39 K Kawasha 221 Keenan 19, 175, 177 Kimenyi 226 Kintsch 15 L Lakoff 7, 19 Lehmann 235 Lewontin 37 lexical word-classes 49 lexical words 45 lexically-inherent modality 442 lexicon 43 Li 63 Lieberman 15 lingering relevance 293, 296 locative 162 locative indirect object 138 Logical Positivists 29 low certainty 314 M main clause 151, 153 manipulation verbs 152, 309, 318 manipulative speech-acts 316 manner 162 manner adverbs 88 markedness 34, 37, 38, 330 marking of definite NPs 468 marking of irrealis 358

Index

497

Mayr 24 maximal referential continuity 463 minor word classes 94 mirativity 328 Mithun 328, 366 mixed clausal order 246 mixed word-order 244, 246 mixed word-order in the NP 255 modal attitude 152 modal adverbs 302 modal auxiliaries 306 modality 70, 214, 285, 300, 304, 312, 330, 332, 337 modality in grammar 302 modality verbs 150, 306 modifiers 59 modifying adjective 84, 259 mood 300, 312 morphemes 34 morphological negation 397 morphology 115 moprhotactics 48, 54 multiple membership 161 multiple stems 168 N names 59 necessary truth 301 NEG-assertion 369 Neg-factive 310 Neg-intesifying objects 269 negation 71, 304, 369, 378 negation and social interaction 376 negation as speech-act 372 negation markers 388 negation morphemes 265 negation and word-order 385 negative assertion 301, 302, 327 negative events 373 negative polarity 396 negative scope 386 negative states 375 non-adjacency 281 non-configurationality 279 non-declarative speech acts 312, 315, 446 non-fact 303 non-factive 155, 310 non-reference 440, 454

non-referring 124, 303, 435, 440 non-restrictive Rel-clause 310 non-truth 301 nominal morphology 175 nominal predicate 124, 448 nominalizations 67 nominative-accusative 203 noun classifiers 454, 469 nouns 49, 51, 55, 58 NP constituents 434 number 63, 399, 401, 427 numeral ‘one’ 451 numerals 100, 101 O object agreement 412, 473 oject pronouns 402 obligatory promotion 221 obligatory pronominal agreement 424 optional clitic 407 optional consituents 381 optional participant case-roles 162 optional promotion 221 ordinals 100, 101 out-of-sequence 295 overt coding properties 175, 177 OVS 241 P participant roles 105 passive 179, 190 passivization 179, 185 past 286 past perfect 293, 295 past perfective 295 past subjunctive 364 patient of change 173, 174 patient of state 173, 174 PCU verbs 154, 307, 319 Peirce 34 perception 154 perfect 293, 296, 348, 352, 353 perfect past 296 perfective 288, 296, 348, 362 perfective/imperfective 345 perfective past 296 perfectivity 127, 214, 287, 293, 332 performance 6, 280 person 399

498 Index

pidgin 14 Plato 5, 24, 29 polarity 83 Posner 33 possession 135, 193 possessive pronouns 66, 98 possessive-reflexives 186 possessor-of-object 223 possible truth 301 Possible Worlds Semantics 459 post-nominal modifiers 243 pragmatics of indefinite reference 455 pragmatics of negation 370 pragmatics of word-order flexibility 277 predicate adjective 84 predicate noun 59 predicates 120 preferred argument strucure 106 pre-grammatical 14 pre-grammatical pidgin 13 pre-nominal modifiers 242 present 286 present perfect 293, 297, 300 present-progressive 300 presupposed 355 presupposition 301, 303, 326, 369, 378 primary grammaticalization 400 processing instructions 474 pro-clitic 54 progressive 289 promotion to DO 178, 220, 225 pronominal agreement 408, 416, 420 pronominal classificatory features 400 pronominal paradigms 400 pronouns 73, 407 proper names 464 propositional information 8, 9 propositional logic 369 propositional modalities 300, 441, 442 propositional semantics 19 propositions 9 prototype-based categories 32 prototypes 29, 31, 33 prototypical adjectives 82 prototypical transitive verbs 128 PS tree configurations 280 PS tree diagrams 110

Q quantifiers 100, 101 R raising 184 Real World 438 realis assertion 301, 326, 369 reference 58, 401, 437, 438, 441, 442, 473 reference markers 454 reference test for modality 303 reference time 285, 286, 294 referential 124 referential coherence 399, 437, 474 referential importance 277 referential intent 439 referential opacity 441 referentially opaque 441 referentially transparent 441 referential predictability 277 referring 124, 440 referring-definite 303 referring-indefinite 303 reflexivization 180 relative clauses 182 relativization 182 relevance 332 relevance time 296 remote (aspect) 298, 353 request 312 restrictive Rel-clauses 310 rigid word-order in the noun phrase 242 Rice 117 Rosch 31 Ross 7, 19 Rule-government by GRs 189 Rude 216 Russell 4, 53, 438, 459, 466 rhytmic-hierarchic structure 37, S Sapir 1, 28 Saussure 5, 24 scalarity 234 scale of temporal stability 54 scope 117 scope of assertion aspect 343 scope of negation 378

Index

499

Schneider 33 Script-based reference 461 secondary grammaticalization 400 semantic criteria 50 semantic memory 460, 461 semantic roles 106, 107, 173, 416, 424 semantic taxonomies 50 sense 439 sequentiality 332 serial verbs 227 shape 82 Shapiro 38 Shared current text 462 Shibatani 216 Shiffrin 33 Silverstein 215 simple clauses 105, 108, 118 simple verbal clauses 105 size 82 Slobin 328 source-locatives 132 spatial compactness 50 spatial deixis 401 spatial diffuseness 52 speech time 286 speech-act markers 78 speech-act participant 401 split ergative 210 split GR properties 191 split subjunctive 360 stasis 372 states 106 stative verbs 291 structuralism 4 Strawson 438, 459 stressed pronouns 463 subject 173 subject pronouns 402, 404, 409 subjunctive 314, 315, 316, 318, 323, 362 subjunctive mood 312 subjunctive in irrealis contexts 313 subordinators 77, 100 suppletive forms 74 surface ergativity 217 SVO 235, 236 syntactic ergativity 217 syntactic negation 397 syntactic transitivity 110, 127 switch-reference markers 78

T tactile 82 T-A-M morphology 337 taste 82 taxonomy 20 temporal 162 temporal boundaries 287 temporal anchoring 286 temporal instability 52 temporal stability 50 tense 70, 285, 330, 337, 341, 443 tense-aspect 302, 304 tense-aspect-modal morphology 264 terminal boundary 294 Tesnière 17 Thompson 63 time of speech 285, 294, 296 topic persistence 457 topical objects 432 topical object agreement 415 topicality 36, 198, 214, 455, 472 topicality hierarchies 197, 220 topicality of semantic roles 200 topicalization 416, 426 theme-and-variation 18 transitive clause 109, 127 transitive event 109, 127 transitive verbs 127 transitivity 109, 127, 431 Traugott 23 Truth-conditional logic 439 type 439, 466 typology 24, 197, 217 typology of VP negation 382 typological organization 337 typological variation 25 U universal quantifier 440 universals of grammar 24 Universe of Discourse 438, 459 unspecified objects 137 unstressed pronoun 463 utterance 154 V valuative-deontic 313 variation 27 Vennemann 235



500 Index

verbal complements 85, 177, 444 verb agreement 73, 74, 175 verb classes 161 verb-inflectional system 337 verb-type 431 verbs 49, 52, 69 vivid 298 vivid past 300 VSO 237 VOS 239 W Wittgenstein 30 word-order 175, 233

word-order change 255 word-order rigidity 271 word-order typology 233 words 9, 43 working memory 460 writing systems 48 Y yes/no-question 312 Z zero anaphora 182, 419, 463 zero copulas 121 Zipf 2