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Showing posts with label syntax. Show all posts
Showing posts with label syntax. Show all posts

Monday, 29 February 2016

Fifth Lexember Month: for Something Completely Different, a Month of Haotyétpi Words


First, let me apologise for leaving this blog to languish for so long. It's not that I haven't been active (anyone who follows my Tumblr blog knows that's not the case). Rather, I haven't been very active with the things I usually share on this blog, in particular with the development of Moten. Basically, what has happened in 2015 is that I burned myself out on Moten. Don't take me wrong: I love my conlang, and I'm glad I've been able to work long enough on a single language that it is now at a near usable point. However, I have also been full of new ideas of linguistic features I'd like to implement in a conlang, and I couldn't implement them in Moten without breaking the language. Still, I was bursting at the seams with ideas. This combination of working on a language that was basically done, apart from the vocabulary, together with this ever present need to create something new, caused me to start resenting working on Moten!

That was, of course, an unacceptable situation! Conlanging is my main hobby, and one of the only activities I find true satisfaction in doing. There was no way I could let it become poisoned for me. So, after a period of self-reflection, and identifying exactly what it was that was bothering me and preventing me from enjoying my work on Moten, I made two decisions:

  1. To pause my work on Moten for a while. Clearly, working on a single conlang for an extended period of time doesn't sit well with me. I needed to take a break and refill my Moten batteries, so to speak;
  2. To start a new conlang to canalise all those creative juices that were flooding my brains (if you'll allow me to stretch this metaphor to the breaking point). Like I said, I had plenty of new linguistic ideas I was dying to try out, and no way to play with them, creating a situation where my brains basically got blocked. the only way I could unblock it was by letting my creative juices flow in a new language.

And that's basically what I did. I paused my work on Moten and started working on a new language. With so much creative energy just begging to be used, it wasn't long before I had a working language description, which I eventually presented to the CONLANG mailing list back in November 2015. The conlang itself is called Haotyétpi, which is actually a nominalised verb phrase meaning "that which we speak to each other" (it's an endonym. Unlike Moten which is spoken in the here and now and has no associated culture to speak of, Haotyétpi is a more traditional "fictional" language, with a conculture associated to it. Since I don't know whether the world where Haotyétpi is spoken actually contains any English speakers, I don't have an English exonym for it).

As for the language description itself, it is available here (warning: PDF hosted on Google Drive. Good news is that Google Drive's PDF preview feature works well). Since I was working on a new language, I decided to try my hand at new tools for the purpose of documenting it. This language description has been created using XeLaTeX and the Brill typeface via ShareLaTeX (basically an online TeXLive installation, very complete and up-to-date, and with a great in-browser LaTeX editor). Working on this new language has allowed me to test these tools, and I am very happy with the results so far!

So when Lexember came around again last year, I was neither ready to resume working on Moten, nor willing to miss such a fun event. So naturally, I decided to participate with Haotyétpi. Giving such a young language a nice vocabulary injection was too good to pass.

As with last year, I wrote all my Lexember posts on Tumblr, automatically shared them on Twitter and Facebook, and manually shared them on Google+ and the CONLANG mailing list. I hadn't set up an automatic link between Tumblr and this blog for Haotyétpi posts, so they unfortunately didn't appear here or on the Conlang Aggregator, but this post is my way of correcting this oversight. I have now set up that automatic link, so this problem shouldn't happen again.

As I did last year, I will give here the short definitions of the created words and link to the relevant (Tumblr) posts. Don't hesitate to follow these links: each Lexember Tumblr post contains extensive descriptions of Haotyétpi in general and the created words in particular, together with topical GIFs and in some cases even example sentences! Also, Haotyétpi is very different from Moten, with a very distinct phonology, grammar and even semantics, so you really need to read those posts (together with the grammar document I linked to) in order to make sense of these entries. So, without further ado, here are all my new words for a new language:

1st word: wakkú [ʋäˈkːuˑ], alienably possessed noun:
rain.
2nd word: repáta [ɾe̞ˈpäˑtə̆], intransitive verb:
to be/become slow, late.
3rd word: oméw [o̞ˈme̞͡ʊ], intransitive verb:
to be/become early, fast.
4th word: yosék [jo̞ˈʑe̞ˑk], nominalisation:
food, something to eat.
5th word: pusék [puˈʑe̞ˑk], nominalisation:
drink, something to drink.
6th word: eyró [e̞͡ɪ̆ˈɾo̞ˑ], intransitive verb:
to be/become pleasant, liked.
7th word: hekáw [çe̞ˈgä͡ʊ], intransitive verb:
to be/become unpleasant, hated.
8th word: ankése [änˈd͡ʑe̞ˑʑə̆], inalienably possessed noun:
face, look, appearance.
9th word: honé [fo̞ˈɲe̞ˑ], inalienably possessed noun:
voice.
10th word: =nekkon [ɲe̞̽kːo̞̽ŋ], nominalising clitic:
seems like, but is not.
11th word: [ˈɲe̞ˑ], transitive verb:
to wear (clothes).
12th word: més [ˈme̞ˑɕ], transitive verb:
to be/become attached to.
13th word: nesék [ɲe̞ˈʑe̞ˑk], nominalisation:
clothes, thing to wear.
14th word: tawít [täˈʋiˑt], alienably possessed noun:
cat.
15th word: cupí [t͡suˈbiˑ], intransitive verb:
to sleep.
16th word: [iˈäˑ], transitive verb:
to breathe; to smoke.
17th word: inwé [iˈnʋe̞ˑ], transitive verb:
to hold, to carry.
18th word: paró [päˈɾo̞ˑ], transitive verb:
to carry (sthg) on one’s back.
19th word: samar= [sɐmɐɾ], adnoun:
other, another, else.
20th word: meún [me̞ˈuˑŋ], intransitive verb:
to be/become different.
21st word: ricá [ɾiˈd͡zäˑ], transitive verb:
to see, to look at, to watch.
22nd word: cupiapásko [t͡subɪ.ɐˈbäˑɕkə̆], alienably possessed noun:
dream (images seen while asleep).
23rd word: kommés [ko̞ˈmːe̞ˑɕ], intransitive verb:
to see, to look, to observe.
24th word: [ˈɾiˑ], transitive verb:
to hear, to listen to.
25th word: sepáne [ɕe̞ˈbäˑɲə̆], inalienably possessed noun:
ear.
26th word: [ˈt͡ɕe̞ˑ], alienably possessed positional:
day (24-hour period).
27th word: -(a)p [(ɐ)p], verbal suffix:
to have the quality of.
28th word: -ye [je̞̽], verbal suffix:
to have the quality of.
29th word: ortáse [o̞ɾˈtäˑʑə̆], inalienably possessed noun:
soul, spirit, god.
30th word: ortáp [o̞ɾˈtäˑp], intransitive verb:
to be holy, to be sacred.
31st word: turá [tuˈɾäˑ], alienably possessed noun:
skill, ability; endurance, stamina.

Since Haotyétpi is a very new conlang, I am not going to do any statistics this time. That would be pointless. However, I just want to mention a few things:

  • By convention, I type every Haotyétpi word in italics (like I type Moten in bold);
  • The romanisation I chose for Haotyétpi is strictly phonemic, up to and including an acute accent to mark stress on the syllable of every word that carries one (including monosyllables). However, Haotyétpi also features plenty of allophony, so I included phonetic transcriptions of the words above in order to make it clearer how they are meant to sound like;
  • I cite clitics (independent words that lack their own stress) with a = sign, and affixes with a - sign. In both cases, the position of the sign indicates whether the clitic or affix attaches on the previous or the following word (for clitics, only in terms of prosody). Such signs are only used when citing these forms. In normal Haotyétpi texts, affixes are simply attached to the words they complete, while clitics are written as separate words (their status as clitics is still obvious, dus to the lack of accent mark).

This year's Lexember has cemented my opinion that Tumblr is just the perfect platform for it. It possesses all the social features needed for what is really a group event, the casual atmosphere needed to make it fun, without the restrictions of Twitter's limited post length. However, greatness is not limited to just one platform, and whether on Tumblr, Twitter, Google+, Facebook or the Conlang Mailing List, I enjoyed reading everyone's Lexember entries. This event just keeps getting better with time. I'm looking forward to the next iteration!

Thursday, 27 February 2014

Moten Part XII: Irregularities and Exceptions


Okay, so I know this series contains about as many apologies as it contains conlang info, but please humour me again. At the end of last time's post, I explained that the next post would be about syntax (and more importantly, I promised I would have an actual text in Moten to present as example). However, although I've been working for months on that post, it's still nowhere near ready (syntax is hard!). So rather than leaving you hanging for even longer, I decided to write another post I was planning for later, one which should hopefully be somewhat shorter, yet still entertaining. This post is about those wonderful pearls of natural languages which are the bane of so many language students: irregularities and exceptions!

Definition

Before we start, let's precisely define the words we're using: what do we mean when we speak of irregularities or exceptions in a language?

As anyone who's spent a modicum of time at school knows (and many who haven't know as well), languages obey rules (what we basically call their grammar). Well, personally I think it would be more accurate to say that languages are described by rules, but the distinction is irrelevant for this post. Suffice to say, you can always describe the behaviour of a language in terms of a certain amount of rules. They may be quite complex, but there just doesn't seem to be any language that cannot be described with grammatical rules of some kind.

Nevertheless, however precise you make those rules, however much you analyse the language and describe it in details, there always seems to be some kind of irreducible kernel of forms or structures that keep on defying those rules. It's true of all natural languages that we know of (that is to say, all languages we have a description of): however detailed the rules used to describe them are, there are always words or constructions that don't follow these. They are what we call irregularities, or exceptions.

Now, not all languages are equal when it comes to exceptions. Some have plenty of exceptional forms in various areas of their grammars (I'm looking at you, English, with you irregular verbs, irregular plurals, unpredictable use of prepositions with verbs, etc. My own native tongue French is also guilty of this, especially in its verb conjugations!), while others only have a few exceptions and the rest of their grammars is otherwise perfectly regular (I've read for instance that Turkish only has a few irregular verbs, and even then those all exhibit the same kind of irregularity. And I know by experience that Japanese has a very regular grammar, with few exceptional forms). But the one rule that truly seems to hold for all natural languages, without a single exception, is that natural languages have exceptions!

Given that, since Moten is supposed to be a naturalistic conlang (i.e. one that could pass for a natural language), it follows that it should have exceptions to its rules. Yet in all the posts I've written before on the language, I haven't talked about them much, if at all. Is Moten unnaturally regular? Well, as it happens, Moten is a bit like Turkish or Japanese. It does have irregularities, but those are few and far between, which is why we haven't encountered many of them yet. But it does have irregularities, in all areas of its grammar, phonology, morphology and syntax. And now I'm going to focus on describing those irregularities in the remainder of this post.

Exceptions in Phonology

Phonology being the system of rules that describes which sounds are used in the language, and which forms syllables can take, exceptions in phonology should be words that don't follow those rules, i.e. words that are considered good Moten words, but make use of sounds that are not considered part of the phonetic inventory of the language, and/or combinations of sounds that are not allowed according to its phonotactics. Does Moten have those?

Why, yes of course it does! And we've met those words already, in this post, in the section called Interjections. As I mentioned then, while interjections are considered fully fledged words of the language, they sometimes contain sounds or combinations of sounds that are not normally considered acceptable in Moten. Examples of exceptions to phonology are:

  • long vowels: zutuun [zuˈtuːn]: "the sound of complete silence";
  • long or double consonants: ssii [sːiː]: "er, um", ikkee [ikˈkeː]: "ouch";
  • sounds not considered part of the standard Moten phonology: pelg [pɛɫx]: "ugh" (notice how this one also features a normally forbidden two-consonant coda).

By the way, interjections are not necessarily the only words with exceptional phonology. Some recent borrowings also have irregular phonological features, like Doj|slan(t): "Germany", which has an affricate in a disallowed position according to Moten phonotactics. Given that native words still simplify affricates when inflectional, derivational or compounding phenomena would put them in such a position, one can truly speak of an exception.

Exceptions in Morphology

Morphology refers to the forms taken by words, especially how they change due to inflections, derivations or compounding. So exceptions in morphology are simply word forms that inflectional, derivational and compounding rules fail to predict.

Let's start with inflections. This refers to noun inflections (cases and number, definiteness, and the functional prefixes), since Moten has very few verbal conjugations (and the two verbs that can be conjugated are both conjugated in exactly the same way).

Now, if you approached Moten for the first time, and saw these incomplete paradigms:

linan: bird

indefinite nominative accusative genitive
singular linan lindan linva|n
plural linsan linzan linfa|n

bazlo: town, city

indefinite nominative accusative genitive
singular bazlo bazludon bazluvoj
plural bazluso bazlu|zon bazlufoj

ge|sem: father

indefinite nominative accusative genitive
singular ge|sem gezdemun gezvemi
plural ge|sem ge|zemun gesfemi

ku|lu: language

indefinite nominative accusative genitive
singular ku|lu kuldun kulvuj
plural kulsu kulzun kulfuj

you'd be excused if you thought that they were a mess of irregular forms. While they do have a few things in common, those paradigms are all different in non-trivial ways. Yet as I explained in this old post, noun declensions in Moten can actually be described using completely regular rules, based on a series of infixes and suffixes common to all nouns, along with complex but regular morphophonological rules that explain how those affixes interact with the stems they are added to. I've seen this phenomenon (apparently irregular superficial forms underlain by perfectly regular, if complex, formation rules) described by some as "regular irregularity". And don't think that no natural language is like that! I've read descriptions of the mess that is Basque synthetic conjugations that successfully argue that most of it can actually be described by perfectly regular (if complex) morphophonological rules, along with common affixes used by all verbs (there are still some irreducible forms, but they are few and far between, and can often be explained by generic phonological considerations).

So all nouns follow basically the same inflections rules, and all use the same affixes. However, this does not mean that we cannot find true irregularities in noun inflections. Take for instance the noun with the uninflected form tales, which is also its nominative singular indefinite (that noun means "fruit, vegetable"). Given that form, and the regular inflectional rules used on all nouns, one would expect its accusative singular indefinite to be *taldesun. However, that's unattested (read: wrong!), and the attested form is taldeskun! What's happening here is that tales is one of those nouns I mentioned way back in the first Moten post! Such nouns have stems that end with two consonants. Given that that's a big phonotactics no-no in Moten, the second consonant (which I call "fragile") disappears when it would be word-final, and only resurfaces when a suffix is added. When you only know the uninflected form of a noun, it's thus impossible to predict whether that noun has a fragile consonant or not, and even if you're told it has one, it's impossible to predict which one. Since there is no predictive rule available, those nouns can truly be considered exceptional, and the only way to handle them is to learn them as they come (here, as well as in the Moten dictionary, I always mention them with the fragile consonant in parentheses: tales(k). It's a good and visual way to mark both the presence of a fragile consonant and its value).

Another case of inflectional irregularity, although a rarer one, is represented by words whose stem is a single consonant. No, you read that right: in Moten, some words have a stem that is actually a single consonant, without a vowel to accompany it. An example is the stem g, which is used in the verb igi, meaning "to live", as well as a noun meaning "life". In this case, the main problem is that Moten phonotactics don't allow single-consonant words: the shortest possible word must at least have one vowel. When such stems are used as verbs, it's not so much of an issue: the infinitive igi is disyllabic, and the participle guz has a vowel as well (notice that both are perfectly regular, by the way), so they can be declined without a problem. The imperative ("live!") isn't commonly used, but is an issue (since it's normally identical to the stem). It's easily solved, however: such imperatives are formed by adding -i to the single-consonant stem: gi: "live!".

No, the main issue is when such stems are used as nouns. Due to the absence of a stem vowel, all kinds of weird things happen. Luckily, single-consonant stems generally all behave in the same way, so I can simply describe how g: "life" handles it, and you'll know how to handle others.

The first thing to remember is that in single-consonant stems, that single consonant behaves like an onset. This means that infixes will follow it. It's important to know, as otherwise the position of infixes could have been ambiguous.

I'll start with the definite declension of g, as it is easiest to understand. Since definiteness is marked by the infix -e-, it provides a vowel to add to the single consonant and form a pronounceable syllable. So the nominative singular definite is simply ge: "the life". Since the definite infix appears before the other infixes, the nominative plural definite becomes ges: "the lives". The functional prefixes are effectively added to the nominative forms of the noun, so those are easy as well: koge: "by the life", koges: "by the lives". The accusative and genitive cases are relatively simple as well, with a small caveat: despite what I just wrote above, in those cases, the definite infix somehow gets treated as a stem vowel, and the case infixes end up preceding rather than following it! I don't know why it happens there and not with the nominative plural infix: it's just something you'll have to remember! (that's exceptions for you!) So the accusative singular definite of g is gden (rather than the expected *gedun), and its plural is gzen (rather than *ge|zun). The genitive singular definite is gvej, while the plural is kfej.

The indefinite declension of g is slightly more complicated to describe, but not by much. In this case I'll go backwards, compared to what I've done with the definite declension. It's just easier to explain that way. So let's start with the genitive case. Luckily, this case provides us with a vowel thanks to the -i suffix. Remembering that the single consonant g is treated as an onset (infixes follow it), the genitive singular indefinite is thus the regular gvi, while the plural is regularly kfi. The accusative case doesn't give us an obvious vowel, until you remember that its suffix -n becomes -un after a consonant. With that in mind, the accusative singular indefinite of g is simply gdun, and its plural is gzun. The nominative plural works in the same way, you just need to remember that its infix -s- becomes -us- when it would otherwise create an inadmissible cluster. So the nominative plural indefinite is gus (and functional prefixes can be added to it).

And that leaves us with the nominative singular (as well as the uninflected form used when followed by an adjective, which for all intents and purposes behaves like the nominative singular indefinite), which I saved for last on purpose. That's because its shape varies depending on its use and what surrounds it. Let's first get the functional prefixes out of the way: since all functional prefixes end in a vowel, one can simply add g to them and the result in pronounceable. And indeed that's how you do it: kog: "with life". Also, when g is followed by an adjective starting with a vowel (or with a single consonant that can form an onset cluster with g, according to Moten phonotactics), it will stay as is, and will be pronounced as part of the onset of the adjective. So for instance g olem: "the same life" (with olim: "same, similar") will be pronounced as if it was *golem. But what do you do when you actually need a naked nominative singular indefinite? (or an uninflected form followed by an adjective starting with an incompatible consonant or a consonant cluster) Well, you will need a vowel to be able to pronounce it, so you'll just have to add one. And that's where things get really confusing, because, at least in the case of g, you can choose between two vowels! Indeed, the naked nominative singular indefinite of g can be either gu or gi! Basically, gu seems to be the more common alternative (probably because of the use of u as an epenthetic vowel throughout the inflection paradigm of nouns), but gi appears regularly as well (even within the speech of the same speaker), especially when the word is surrounded with high or mid front vowels. So while one will tend to use gu on its own, when saying "another life" that same person will be likely to say gi tel (and the written language follows pronunciation here).

To sum it all up, here's a table with the different inflections of g: "life":

indefinite nominative accusative genitive
singular g, gu or gi gdun gvi
plural gus gzun kfi
definite nominative accusative genitive
singular ge gden gvej
plural ges gzen kfej

Now that inflections are out of the way, let's look at derivation and compounding. Derivation is actually very easy. As you may remember, there's very little productive derivation in Moten, and it's all very regular. So far, I haven't been able to discover a single exception to the morphophonological rules I described in last post. The rules may be somewhat complex (and reminiscent of the inflection rules), especially when it comes to diminutives, but they are completely regular.

Compounding, however, is a different beast entirely. As I mentioned before, the changes undergone by compounded stems are not always predictable, so irregularities abound. They run the whole gamut of possibilities, from unpredictable use of the short compound form (sezbon: "velocity" is formed by using the short compound form of both its components sezgo: "high speed" and bontu: "low speed", while similar compounds usually use the short compound form of their first component only, as in ukodun: "age", from ukol: "old age" and odun: "youth"), to unpredictable voicing or devoicing of clusters (eg+sponda -> egzbonda: "two small animals" features progressive voicing, while ag+fe|su -> akfe|su: "sorry for leaving early" shows regressive devoicing. Progressive devoicing and regressive voicing are also possible), to unexpected elisions (uflebe: "quality" uses the short compound form of ufan: "greatness", but also removes the first consonant of its second component tlebe: "mediocrity"), all the way to portmanteau formations (like slebe: "trollishness", from slim: "inappropriateness" and tlebe). Even addition of sounds is attested (as in oskana|not: "ceremony", from oskan: "event, show" and |not: "source, cornerstone, main"), although it is uncommon.

Exceptions in Syntax

While morphology is about the forms words take, syntax is about how those forms are put together to form understandable utterances. Exceptions in syntax are then unexpected word orders, and/or unexpected forms for a specific function in the sentence. I'll keep this section short, as we haven't had a complete overview of Moten syntax yet (next post, I promise!). Still, I can mention at least two exceptional syntactic behaviours.

As you already know, one of the strictest rules of syntax in Moten is that adjectives follow nouns. It's so strict because it's basically what makes them adjectives in the first place: the adjectival function of nouns is marked by position, and by position only. That said, even such a strict rule has exceptions, and we've met them already. As I mentioned then in the post about numbers, short cardinal numbers used attributively tend to precede rather than follow the noun they complete. So one will usually say su ka|se rather than ka|se su for "one man" (either is correct, but the first one is just far more common). I don't know why this happens, but it does. It's a bona fide syntactic irregularity.

The second irregularity I want to mention concerns another rather strict rule of Moten, the one about the form of subjects of transitive verbs. As I explained way back then, the subject of a transitive verb only appears in the nominative case when it's actively, willingly participating in the action. Experiencers and other non-volitional subjects will appear in the instrumental instead. This means that in general, inanimate objects and abstract concepts will never appear as subjects of transitive verbs in the nominative case (at least in formal registers and ignoring some forms of personification), since those cannot have a will of their own. There is one group of exceptions to this rule though: weather phenomena. Words referring to weather phenomena break the rule completely: not only can they appear in the nominative case when they are the subject of a transitive verb, but they actually have to appear in the nominative case. Appearing in the instrumental in that role is actually a grammatical error! It's as if weather phenomena were always actively and willingly participating in the action described by the verb. In fact, this exception goes so far that even in mythical stories, fables or tales where weather phenomena are personified, they will appear in the nominative case when subject of a transitive verb, even if they should actually be playing an experiencing role! So nouns like ibo: "air, wind", tlap: "light rain", ibipiz: "storm", la|zi: "high weather temperature", devodi: "west wind" and eme: "sun" (when used to refer to the way it warms up the air on a sunny day) will always appear in the nominative case when subject of a verb, regardless its transitivity or their actual role.

There are other exceptions in Moten syntax, but I want to wait until I've properly discussed the rules of syntax first before I spend more time on them. Moreover, most of those exceptions happen in specific, informal speech registers, so I will need to explain those as well before I can go into more details.

Exceptions in Semantics

Put it simply, semantics is the relationship between words and their meanings. But since the relationship between words and their meanings is essentially arbitrary (well, more or less), where are the rules for exceptions to break?

Well, there's one area where semantics do have some kind of rules: derivation and compounding, and those rules predict the meaning of a derived form or a compound based on their components. In English, those rules are of the kind "the suffix -er forms an agent noun from a verb" or "nouns ending in -berry always refer to some kind of fruit".

That said, as you probably already know, natural languages tend to be very creative when it comes to applying those rules, and exceptions are common. For instance, in English, although it is formed regularly, a choker will usually not be understood as someone who chokes someone else, but as a piece of jewellery that only chokes if it's too small! In the same way, regular compounds needn't always have a meaning that regularly derives from the meanings of their constituents (for instance, a greenhouse isn't necessarily green, and is definitely not a house!).

So what about Moten then? Well, it also tends to play fast and loose with the meaning of derived words and compounds. For instance, in spite of the suffix -sif being used to form simple actor nouns from verbs, the regularly formed agzif (from jagi: "to go") doesn't simply mean "goer", but "traveller". Diminutives are especially guilty of this. Look for instance at dloasin, the diminutive of dloa: "pear". It has nothing to do with small pears, and means instead "light bulb".

Compounds are even more all over the place, and their meanings are often only metaphorically linked to the meanings of their components. For instance, look at no|sezgo, which literally means "quick brightness". Its actual meaning is "lightning bolt". Then there's tolmos (literally "four paws/legs"), which means "dining table, meal, fare, food". And I'm not even talking about all those verbal compounds where the second element, the verb istu|l: "to summon, to call", is almost completely bleached of any meaning, and works more like a generic verbalising suffix (for instance, while ipenlastu|l: "to invite" can reasonably be seen as a combination of istu|l: "to call" and ipenlaj: "to wait for, to expect", in joknestu|l: "to read", istu|l is really just a meaningless suffix used to turn okne: "story, tale" into a verb).

And then there are all those nouns formed by nominalising an inflected form, thanks to surdéclinaison. The connection between the original word and the resulting nominalisation is often pretty tenuous. See for instance devodi: "west wind". It's actually the genitive singular definite of dod: "evening, night" and thus literally means "from the night" (the step from "from the night" to "west wind" is definitely not an obvious one!).

What's Next

So, if you had any doubt that Moten is a naturalistic language with its fair share of irregularities and exceptions, this post should have put those to rest! Moten may not be the paragon of exceptionalness that English is, but it has a healthy amount of irregularities.

So, what's next then? Well, next time I'll finally get this syntax post published that I promised nearly a year ago! And as promised as well, that post will contain a full text example, rather than a few words or disconnected sentences. I am not promising anything in terms of when that post will be published, but hopefully you won't have to wait for 10 months again. In any case, until next time!

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Moten Part X: Surdéclinaison, Other Patterns and Isolated Cases


As promised in my previous post, this article is the last one of a series discussing surdéclinaison (the first one is available here, and the second one here). In this article I am going to describe more restricted patterns, as well as isolated cases that don't fit in general categories. This post should be slightly longer than the previous one, but it should be entertaining!

Complements of Comparisons

A long time ago, I introduced the degrees of comparison in Moten, and I explained then that I couldn't describe how to form the standard of comparison (the complement typically introduced by "than" in English), as I hadn't yet described the grammatical structures needed to form such a complement. This was, of course, because complements of comparison in Moten make heavy use of surdéclinaison!

But first, let's give you a quick reminder: the degrees of comparison in Moten refer to a series of prefixes and circumfixes used on nouns to indicate:

  • The comparatives of superiority ("-er/more"), equality ("as/as much/as many") and inferiority ("less/fewer");
  • The superlatives of superiority ("-est/most") and inferiority ("least/fewest");
  • The intensifiers/excessives of superiority ("much/many/very/very much/a lot/too/too much/too many") and inferiority ("not very/not very much/little/few/too little/too few/not enough").

All those forms can take a complement, although what the complement means and how it is constructed depends on which structure we are talking about:

  • The complement of comparatives indicates the standard of comparison, and is introduced in English with "than" or "as". It can be a full clause ("he is as tall as I remember") or a noun phrase ("he is taller than me", or more pedantly "he is taller than I"), possibly starting with a preposition ("he goes more often to the beach than to the mountain");
  • The complement of superlatives describes the group from which the element in question is highest or lowest in quality, and in English can be a noun phrase introduced with "of" ("he is the tallest man of the house") or a relative subclause ("this is the smallest cat (that) I've ever seen");
  • Intensifiers don't really have complements (in the sentence "he is very tall for his age", "for his age" is not really a complement of the intensifier. Rather, it's an adverbial phrase meaning "with respect to the standard of his age", and it can be used without intensifier: "he is tall for his age" is just as correct a sentence), but excessives can. The complement of excessives indicates the goal that is missed due to the excess or lack, and in English can be introduced by "for" and be a noun phrase ("there is not enough left for me") or an infinite clause ("this is too high for me to reach"), or can be an infinitive ("this is too heavy to carry").

In Moten, the constructions are different, but the meaning is the same.

Let's start with the comparatives and the superlatives, as they both use the same construction to form their complements. In Moten, the complement of a comparative or a superlative is always introduced with the originative prefix go-. When the complement is a full clause, this prefix go- is used like any other prefix to form an adverbial subclause. Both methods described in the previous section are valid, although by and large the most common one is to directly add the prefix to the auxiliary of an independent clause.

However, this is not enough. Adverbial clauses, like adverbial phrases, can only be used to complete a verb, never a noun. However, at least in Moten, the complement of comparatives and superlatives is considered a noun complement. So we still need to convert the adverbial subclause into a noun modifier. This is done exactly like adverbial phrases as explained in the previous post, i.e. by over-inflecting the adverbial subclause in the genitive case (note that the dependent form of the auxiliary is not used in this case: once it has undergone surdéclinaison, an auxiliary is treated like any nominal for further surdéclinaison). In other words, in order to convert a clause into a comparative or superlative complement, you need to over-inflect it twice, the first time with the originative prefix go-, and the second time with the indefinite singular genitive case! Here are a few examples to illustrate how this works:

Umpi kolen gdan jelojmastu|l gojdvoj pepludegun ige: This house is smaller than I remember (literally: "This house has more smallness than (it) is remembered by me". Although hardly recognisable, gojdvoj is simply ito over-inflected in the originative and the genitive case. Notice the verb jelojmastu|l, which corresponds to the verb "to remember", but with an opposite argument orientation: the thing remembered is the subject, while the person remembering is the object, making the verb more exactly equivalent to "to be remembered by". I will discuss this verb and similar ones in a future posts).

Len pe|laz gojdvoj badi pesezgedono ito: This is the fastest dog I know (literally: "This is the fastest dog than (I) have seen (them)". Notice how the relative subclause in English is replaced by an adverbial subclause turned noun modifier in Moten. The difference between the two is that there is no expectation that the head of the subclause has a function in the subclause itself. Rather, here the subclause just describes the group the head is part of, and it is just Moten's pro-drop nature that makes it look similar to the English relative clause. But in fact, if we were to use a more complete subclause, this would be, rather redundantly: Len ba|zin pe|laz gojdvoj badi pesezgedono ito, i.e. literally "This is the fastest dog than (I) have seen dogs").

While it is fine to know how to form subclauses completing comparatives or superlatives, in general the complement of comparison is a single noun phrase (possibly one with a preposition). This is possible in Moten as well, but such forms are actually derived from subclauses, so it was necessary for me to describe them first in order to make this part understandable.

The principle is simple: the standard of comparison must be described using a subclause in Moten. However, the ability to omit anything that can be understood by context is still valid, so when the subclause closely parallels the main clause it's possible to omit everything except the different bits. And in this case, this includes omitting the verb altogether! (in a future post, I will show that omitting the verb of a clause is actually more common than I made it seem in previous posts, at least in an informal speech register. For comparisons though, it's routinely done in every register) When this is done, the marks of the subclause (the originative prefix and the genitive case) cannot be omitted though (they are needed to indicate the role of the remainder in the main clause), so they get relocated on whatever is left (normally a noun phrase, which ends up over-inflected twice over).

This description may seem overly complicated, but the described phenomenon is actually rather simple, especially if you see it in action. So I will illustrate it by giving a few examples starting with a fully specified subclause and carrying on with its shortened form:

E|lon kolam luvami koka|se gojgvej peftin ige: That woman is taller than her husband is (literally: "That woman has more tallness than her man has". Here the subclause is already shortened slightly. A full, but overly redundant construction would be luvami koka|se fedin gojgvej, literally "than her man has tallness". Notice the noun fin: "summit, top, great height, tallness", and the use of ka|se: "man" with a possessive pronoun to mean "husband") -> E|lon kolam luvami gokokazvej peftin ige: That woman is taller than her husband (literally: "That woman has more tallness than her man". Here, as you can see, the comparative complement is formed by simply omitting the verb of the comparative subclause. The remaining phrase is kept in its original form, here the instrumental, and is over-inflected in the originative and genitive, resulting in the triply inflected gokokazvej).

E tinesa umpi molen izunlaj gojdvoj tina petunedano ipelda|n ito: You can see here the biggest room that is in this house (literally: "(You) are seeing here the biggest room than the rooms are in this house". In practice, tinesa would be omitted here, leading to a sentence similar to the English translation. The noun tuna used here means "big" or "big size") -> E umpi gomolve|n tina petunedano ipelda|n ito: You can see here the biggest room in this house (literally: "(You) are seeing here the biggest room than in this house". Here the only thing not omitted in the subclause is the locative phrase, which is then over-inflected in the originative and the genitive case).

Bazlo molen o|so bazlo molam izunlaj gojdvoj peo|so izunlaj ito: There are more cars in this town than there are cars in that town (literally: "In this town more cars are situated than cars are situated in that town". This sentence shows how the comparative construction can be used even when what is compared is used as a noun rather than an adjective) -> Bazlo molen gomolvami peo|so izunlaj ito: There are more cars in this town than in that one (literally: "In this town more cars are situated than in that one". This example may be the clearest of them all: the main clause and the subclause were nearly identical, and the only thing that has not been omitted in the subclause is the different pronoun).

Although this structure is superficially similar to the English usage, there is a small difference worth mentioning. In English, "than" is often treated as a preposition, leading to sentences like "he is taller than me" (instead of the prescriptivist "he is taller than I"). In Moten that's never the case: even when the verb of the subclause itself is omitted, it is considered to be present "in spirit", and the comparative construction with a single noun phrase is still treated as a subclause (in this way, Moten is more similar to prescriptivist English than to actual spoken English). In particular, this means that one cannot use a reflexive pronoun in Moten in the same way as it is used in the following example: "I was part of something greater than myself". Since vike always refers to the subject of the very clause it's in, in the case of comparative constructions it refers exclusively to the subject of the comparative subclause, which wouldn't make sense in the example above. Rather, the example I just gave can be translated simply as Koga gokogvaj tamut pejuva|n judosun etok, literally: "I was a part of a greater something than I". The strength of the English word "myself" is translated here by repeating the pronoun in both the main clause and the comparison.

Now that we've seen how to form the complements of comparative and superlative constructions, the time has come to look at the complements of excessives. Luckily, although those complements work slightly differently from the complements of comparatives and superlatives, the main structure is the same, so I won't have to go through a long description again. Basically, the basic form of the complement of an excessive is a subclause, like the complement of a comparative or superlative. But rather than being introduced with the originative go-, this subclause is introduced with the final te-, which indicates goal. Like the complement of comparatives though, this subclause must then be turned into a noun modifier, so it is over-inflected in the genitive case. In other words, subclauses completing excessives are identical to subclauses completing comparatives or superlatives, with the only difference being the replacement of go- with te-. Here are some examples to illustrate this:

Ibutaj kolsos ga itmamej tejdvoj peniptizun ige: Those chairs are too heavy for me to carry (literally: "Those chairs over there have too much heaviness so that I carry (them)". Notice the use of the infinitive ibutaj: "to sit" to refer to something facilitating sitting, i.e. "chair". The noun ipiz means "heaviness, high weight" while the verb itmamej means "to carry, to hold, to bear").

Ba jo|zemej tejdvoj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you to eat (literally: "Too little (of it) so that you ingest (it) is here". Notice how one can indicate the degree without explicitly mentioning what is in excessive degree by using the pronoun tamun: "some, one". This works also with comparatives and superlatives, although we will see in a future post that such usage is not as common as one might think).

Forming a complement corresponding to a single infinitive is as simple as omitting everything in the subclause except the verb itself:

Ibutaj kolsos itmamej tejdvoj peniptizun ige: Those chairs are too heavy to carry (literally: "Those chairs over there have too much heaviness so that (I) carry (them)").

Forming a complement with a single noun phrase is done just as it is done with comparatives and superlatives: omit everything in the subclause that can be inferred by context, including the verb, and move te- and the genitive case to whatever's left. Using the example directly above, one can then make the following sentence:

Tebvaj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you (literally: "Too little (of it) so that you (ingest it) is here").

Notice that in this usage, when the noun phrase refers to an animate being (a person or an animal, usually), the final prefix te- can be replaced with the benefactive prefix |la-. This is never done for entire subclauses though. For instance, the example above could also be:

|Labvaj lentamun e izunlaj ito: There's not enough here for you (literally: "Too little (of it) for your benefit is here").

So that's all there is to say about the complements of comparatives, superlatives and excessives. The main thing to remember is that they rely strongly on surdéclinaison, as both a functional prefix and the genitive case are necessary to build them correctly.

Other Nominalisations

So far, all the nominalisations done by surdéclinaison we've seen involve nouns in the genitive case (possibly itself the result of surdéclinaison) and verbs in the dependent form (notwithstanding the special case of adverbial subclauses). Those are indeed common and very productive, but by no means the only way to form nominals by over-inflection. Indeed, quite a few other inflected noun forms can be nominalised through over-inflection, although most of them are not nearly as productive (or at least more restricted in meaning) than the nominalisation of the genitive. I'll mention here three such patterns, which are relatively common and reasonably productive.

A long time ago, on my post about numbers, counters, dates and time, I mentioned the word negesizdan: "week", adding that I would eventually explain how this neologism was formed. Time for me to do so.

As I explained then, the noun siza: "(calendar) day" cannot normally be used for durations, but indicates the day of the month. There is one exception: when a compound number+siza is used in the accusative case (optionally with the functional prefix of time di-), it indicates that the action lasted for a continuous period of calendar days. For instance:

Bdan imasizdan izunlafodo|n ito: He's been looking for you for three whole days (literally: "(he) is trying to locate you for three calendar days". Notice how the verb izunlafotoj: "to search, to look for, to try to locate" is in the imperfective aspect rather than the perfect aspect as in English, since this sentence does not indicate the result of something happening in the past, but rather a current event that happened to start in the past).

Using imasizdan here emphasizes that the action happened continuously during that period of time (hence the translation "for three whole days"), unlike alternatives like imagdomun, which also means "for three days", but doesn't necessarily mean that the action happened continuously during that period (in particular, since gom literally means "the period of the day between sunrise and sunset", it implies that the action stopped during the night, while imasizdan implies continuous action throughout day and night. Yes, you can exaggerate in Moten as well as in any other language!).

Such an expression can, like any other, be over-inflected in the genitive in order to complete a noun (for instance: imasizduva|n zunlaz: "a three-day stay", for instance at a hotel), and such a form can itself be nominalised by surdéclinaison: imasizduvea|n: "the three-day one".

However, the expression itself can be nominalised as is, without having to over-inflect it in the genitive first. This pattern forms nouns that refer to generic calendar periods that don't already have a name (like siza itself, mune: "month" and ada: "year"). In particular, it can be used to form Moten equivalents of periods of time that have a special name and meaning in various languages but not in Moten. Hence negesizdan (literally "seven-day period") for "week", or for instance getolsizdan (literally "fourteen-day period") for "fortnight".

One thing to remember that there is nothing special about negesizdan and getolsizdan in Moten. That's to say, those words are no more culturally important than, say, |simsizdan: "six-day period" or genisizdan: "ten-day period" (a "week" of the traditional Chinese calendar). However, since they correspond to relevant periods of time in our Western world, C.G. and I use them more often than other periods.

By the way, this pattern is not restricted to siza. Any counter related to time and date can be used in the same way. For instance, with pele: "minute", one can form gevelbelden: "quarter of hour" or imagenipelden: "half hour". With mune, you get for instance imamunden: "trimester" and |simunden: "semester". And with ada, you naturally have japujadan: "century" and senadan: "millenium".

While the above pattern is still relatively generic, the one I'm going to talk about now, while productive, is also very restricted in meaning and use. Still, it's interesting to look at.

Back when I first described the functional prefixes, I may have given the impression that the benefactive |la- and originative go- were only used with persons, while the final te- and causative |zu- were only used with objects and concepts. And while it's true that |la- and go- are often used with animates and te- and |zu- with inanimates, it's by no means the whole story (as the use of go- for the complement of comparisons, regardless of the animacy of the complement, shows). One day I'll go back to the use cases of the functional prefixes (which are quite varied), but for now let's focus on one particular case, which is the basis of the surdéclinaison pattern I want to talk about.

As I've explained before, when used with a person the benefactive |la- can indicate the person who is given something, or the person for the benefit of whom the action is done:

Nanageduzun |laba negesizdan kun eganeo joplej ito: I'll give you the book next week (nanaguz is the participle of |nanagi: "to write", but is mostly used to mean "book". Notice the expression negesizdan kun (dj)eganeo, literally "on the second week after an unspecified origin". Context makes it clear that it means "next week". Notice also how the perfective present with an indication of time corresponds to the future tense in English).

Tinedan |laga izu|lebi egek: (He) cleaned the room for me.

However, the benefactive can also be used with inanimate concepts and objects, in which case it indicates that the action is done in order to enhance, improve or upgrade that object or concept. Here's an example to illustrate:

Poltuz amla kolen |lajumbvude|n ito: This new door will improve the house (literally: "this newly-acquired door is one to enhance the house". Using te- instead of |la would have resulted in a neutral statement instead: poltuz amla kolen tejumbvude|n ito: "this new door is for the house". Notice also the expression |lajumbvude|n, which is the adverbial phrase |lajumpej: "for the sake of the house" over-inflected twice, first in the genitive case to make it a modifier phrase, then nominalised and put in the accusative case as atom requires. This kind of expressions is relatively common in Moten).

While there is still nothing special about this, things start getting interesting when the noun with the benefactive prefix refers to a body part. In that case, the resulting inflected form can be nominalised directly by surdéclinaison (without first putting it in the genitive). The noun formed that way has a very specific meaning: rather than indicating something generic that in some way "enhances" the body part, it refers specifically to a piece of jewellery that is commonly associated with the body part in question. For instance, from poma: "neck", one can form |lapoma: "necklace". From jespoma: "wrist" (literally "hand neck", with jez meaning "hand", "arm"), one gets |lajespoma: "bracelet". From mensin: "ear" (literally "cup", used metaphorically to refer to the outer ear including earlobe), we get |lamensin: "earring". And from ipe|lastu|l: "finger" (basically the infinitive of a verb meaning "to show"), one forms |lajpe|lastu|l: "ring".

"Wait, what about zanej?" you may ask. Good question! As it happens, there's no reason why the pattern above should be the only way to name jewels, and indeed, some pieces of jewellery have alternative names. In general though, the terms based on body parts are the ones that are most commonly used. The exception is, indeed, the finger ring. Because the word |lajpe|lastu|l is so long, and a bit of a tongue twister, the much shorter and easier to pronounce synonym zanej is used much more often. In any case, it's an interesting pattern to remember, despite its restricted use.

The last pattern I want to mention is slightly different from the previous ones. It may also be at the same time the most restricted one in terms of usage, and the least restricted one in terms of productivity. Indeed, unlike previous patterns and actually all surdéclinaison as I've described it so far, it can be used with any word in any form, including particles! (and that includes clitics as well) In fact, it can even be used with things that aren't even words, like phrases or sentence fragments!

Until now, we've seen how to talk in Moten about things, events, actions, situations, etc. To do so, I have written about Moten, in English. But what if I wanted to translate those blog posts into Moten? What if I wanted to talk about Moten in Moten? To do so, we need the ability to quote words and sentence fragments in Moten itself, something we can't seem to do yet. I did mention how to handle direct speech once, but that method (repeating the direct quote as a separate sentence and referring to it further using a pronoun) does not really work well when talking about words. What we need is a method to embed a sentence fragment in another sentence, in a way that allows case marking so that we know the function of that fragment in the sentence.

In Moten, this is actually done in a relatively simple way: by nominalising the word or sentence fragment using the infix article -e- (basically, treat the fragment as a nominal stem and put it in the definite form). The result can then be inflected as if it were any other definite noun. In writing, this is usually accompanied by quotes, while in speech there is sometimes a slight pause before and after the nominalised form, especially when it's a sentence fragment.

There are three main uses to this pattern:

  • Embedding quotes in other sentences;
  • Mentioning citation forms of words;
  • Using interjections adverbially.

The most common use of this pattern is to embed direct quotes (usually short ones, more rarely full sentences) within a sentence, as an alternative to the usual quoting method described above. Here are a few examples:

Mudutun isej etok? — 'Mejtedon' isej etok: "What did (he) say?" "(He) said 'hi'." (literally: "(He) said the 'hello'", with mejto, a particle meaning "hello, hi" nominalised by -e- and put in the accusative case to become the object of isej: "to say").

'Kovepe|ne' lugen penegipedizno ive|zaj ito: "Sorry" seems to be the hardest word (literally: "The 'sorry' looks like the hardest word". In this case, due to the shape of the word vepe|ne: "sorry", the surdéclinaison isn't visible, and since that word is also a noun meaning "apology", the sentence could also mean: "The apology seems to be the hardest word". Context and simple common sense make the meaning clear in this case. Notice also the form penegipedizno, from negipiz: "difficult, hard to do", put in the superlative of superiority, definite and in the accusative singular. It parses as pe-negip<e><d>iz-n-no. It's actually a case where the morphophonemic rules of Moten are slightly unclear about how to treat the suffixes -n and -no together, given that without the superlative the word would become negipedizun: "the difficult". Maybe due to the influence of this form, a Moten speaker might be heard saying penegipedizuno instead of the form above. They are in free variation, although the first one is still the one most commonly used).

Luvosi 'us vajaguz ite|zon' bunes ito!: His "I don't know" are annoying (me) (literally: "(I) have become annoyed by that one's '(I) haven't learned'". Here what is quoted is actually a full clause: us vajaguz ito: "(I) don't know". It is treated as a single word and nominalised with the article, and then declined in the accusative plural. Its status as a nominal is cemented by the use of the genitive phrase luvosi: "that one's" on it. Notice also the verb ibunesi: "to become annoyed by". It is similar to the English verb "to annoy", but with opposite orientation, and refers to the creation of bother, hence the use of the perfect aspect to indicate that the annoyance is currently existing).

Slightly less common, for the simple reason that talking about one's own language isn't a common activity for many people, is the use of the pattern with citation forms:

'Kozunlea' tolugden ito. Me|lo 'kojzunleaj' neglugden ito. 'Kome|leo' samlugden ito: "Place" is a noun. "To be at", on the other hand, is a verb. "But" is a particle (literally: "The 'place' is a nominal. The 'to be at' however is a verb. The 'but' is a particle". While the first two citation forms are indistinguishable from normally inflected nominals, the last one inflects the normally invariable particle me|lo, which means it has to be surdéclinaison in action here. Notice also the infinitive. As I mentioned a while ago, the infinitive is used as citation form for verbs. But to be truly used as a citation form in a Moten sentence, it needs to be definite. Finally, notice the words tolugen, neglugen and samlugen. They are the Moten names for respectively nominal, verb and particle).

'Kojteo' 'atevomi' beldegun ito: "Is" is a form of "to be" (literally: "The 'is' is a shape of the 'to be'". The noun be|leg means "form, shape, figure, appearance").

Komotenku|leju 'house' de lugeden komut isej ito? — 'Umpedin': "How do (you) say 'house' in Moten?" "'Umpi'" (literally, the answer is "The 'house'", in the accusative case as it is basically an abbreviation of 'umpedin' isej ito: "(you) say 'umpi'". Notice the expression 'house' de lugeden, literally "the word 'house'". The word de is a coordinating particle, which like opa can often be translated as "and". Its main difference with opa, though, is that while the latter coordinates nouns that have different referents, the former coordinates nouns that have the same referent. In other words, while the phrases ka|se opa ge|sem and ka|se de ge|sem both mean "a man and a father", in the first case the phrase refers to two separate persons, one a man and the other a father, while the second refers to a single person, who is both a man and a father. Another common way to translate de is as "that is" or "that's to say", although the most common way to translate it in English is by plain juxtaposition. And this is the case in the expression 'house' de lugeden, where de is used to indicate that "house" and "the word" have the same referent, i.e. "the word 'house'". This is done because while Moten speakers are happy to over-inflect even their interjections, they aren't as willing when it comes to foreign words and phrases that have not been borrowed and adapted to the Moten phonology. Those just cannot be inflected. Since uninflected phrases cannot have a grammatical function in a sentence, the solution is to coordinate the foreign word or phrase with a Moten word like lugen: "word", which can take inflections. Since only the last of coordinated phrases needs to be inflected, this solves the problem: the foreign word can stay uninflected, while still having a well-defined function in the sentence).

Finally, this pattern can be used to include interjections and onomatopoeia into a sentence, with a well-defined syntactic function (rather than the paralinguistic function those usually have). Mostly this is done for purposes of quoting (see above), but when the nominalised interjection is put in the instrumental, it can be used as an adverb of manner, describing the action in a metaphorical way. A few examples will help understand how this usage works:

Gevomi genegedaj tekafe kokinkean ipenlazdu|lun ito!: (He) keeps inviting (me) for coffee, everyday at 5, like clockwork! (literally: "(He) keeps inviting (me) each day at 5 o'clock, for a coffee, like the tick tock!". Here we see the onomatopoeia kinkan, representing the sound of a clock ticking, over-inflected in the instrumental definite to indicate an almost mechanically recurring event. It can be interpreted positively, to mark punctuality, or negatively, to mark routine. Notice also the verb ipenlastu|l: "to invite", conjugated in the imperfective aspect as the sentence refers to a habitual event)

Los koni|sej otedon joknezde|n etok: He kept droning about his car (literally: "He kept talking about the car like the blah". Here the onomatopoeia used is ni|si, the sound of continuous speech, which can mark boredom. The verb is joknesej: "to recount, to narrate, to talk about").

Kozutejuun izektin etok: (He) was following as still as a mouse (literally: "(He) was following like the ...". Even an onomatopoeia that does not strictly follow the phonotactic rules of Moten, like zutuun, the mark of absolute silence, can be over-inflected. The verb here is izeki: "to follow, to go after").

One word of warning: this usage is considered very informal. It's used in speech among friends, but it should be avoided in writing and in formal situations. I'll devote a future post on the subject of language registers in Moten.

Isolated Cases

We've nearly reached the end of this already far too long post. But before I conclude, I'd like to show you a few more expressions that are constructed using surdéclinaison. The difference between these expressions and the ones I've shown so far is that these are not productive at all. They are exceptional phrases that do not form patterns. Unlike the cases presented above, you cannot emulate these to form other expressions. But it's still useful to know they exist.

In terms of meaning, all those expressions are basically adverbial phrases, although some of them are actually disjuncts, i.e. they do not directly modify the sentence, but instead show the speaker's attitude towards it. According to C.G., a Moten speaker treats them as single units (the closest thing Moten has to true adverbs) but is aware of their internal structure, which is always transparent.

Here are a few examples of such constructions:

  • tekojses: actually, in fact (this is the noun isis: "truth", in the instrumental definite, over-inflected with a final prefix. The form kojses itself means "really, truly");
  • godetun: from now on (here we have the pronoun et: "this time, now", in the accusative case and over-inflected in the originative);
  • tegoga: personally, for my part (this is the pronoun ga: "I", put in the originative and then in the final form. It's used as a disjunct, and interestingly it keeps its form even in indirect speech, although it then refers to someone else than the speaker);
  • dikovo|sedan: normally, when things go well (the noun vo|sa: "beauty, appropriateness", in the instrumental definite, over-inflected in the accusative case, with the temporal prefix di-. Despite the temporal prefix being nominally optional, in this case a construction without temporal prefix is never used);
  • |negdin kodidon: while we're at it, at the same time (a construction difficult to translate in English, it expresses the idea of doing something at the same time as something else, because the two activities belong with each other, or at least one facilitates the other. It's the verb |negi: "to do", conjugated in the imperfective aspect, and then made into a temporal subclause, by over-inflecting the auxiliary in the accusative case with the prefix di-, itself over-inflected in the instrumental. The result is still treated as an adverbial subclause, and can actually take participants. For instance: ba |negdin kodidon: "while you're at it" or umpedin |negdin kodidon: "since we're busy with the house". This expression is somewhat informal).

There are many more of those, and I will point them out when we meet them in future posts.

What's Next

Pfew! In total, this took much longer than I expected! That said, surdéclinaison is at the heart of many grammatical constructions in Moten, so it deserves to be treated extensively. I do hope you enjoyed the ride!

Now that I've finished discussing about surdéclinaison, there is not much Moten grammar left to describe. Next post will be about the last bits of morphology I haven't looked at in depth yet: derivation and compounding, i.e. how to make words out of other words. Compared to surdéclinaison, this is a relatively simple subject, so I expect one post on it will be enough. And I will do my best to keep it at a reasonable length!

Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Moten Part IX: Surdéclinaison, Main Verbal Use


As promised, here is the second post about surdéclinaison in Moten! In the previous post, I defined surdéclinaison and explained how it is used with nouns. Here, I will carry on the discussion by looking at how surdéclinaison is used with verbs. I've decided to move the description of other surdéclinaison patterns to the next post, in order to prevent this one from becoming too long and unwieldy.

Nominalisation of Relative Subclauses

In the previous post, I described how genitive noun phrases could be over-inflected as a result of their heads being omitted, the consequence being that such genitive noun phrases are nominalised and can be inflected like any noun, even in the genitive case, allowing for recursive inflection. But genitive noun phrases are not the only example of noun modifiers. Relative subclauses are also used to complete nouns. So can we use the same method and nominalise relative subclauses through surdéclinaison?

The answer is: of course yes indeed! The method is similar to the one used to nominalise genitive noun phrases: omit the head of the subclause, but keep its inflections, and transfer them to the auxiliary verb of the subordinate clause. Basically, relative subclauses are nominalised by over-inflecting their finite verb. Here are a few examples for illustration:

joplej eto zanej: the ring (I) gave (you) -> joplej eteo: the one (I) gave (you) (the head is omitted, and since it was definite, the article is added to the auxiliary verb as if it was a noun stem).

Igebezdin eto fokesez e izunlaj ito: The people (you) were talking (about) are here -> Igebezdin eteso e izunlaj ito: The ones (you) were talking (about) are here (since the head was in the definite nominative plural, when it is omitted the auxiliary of the relative clause is over-inflected in the definite nominative plural as well).

|Lezdu|n itos lindan jezedin ito: (I) hear a bird singing (literally: "(I) am hearing a bird that is singing") -> |Lezdu|n idosun jezedin ito: (I) hear one singing (this example shows that nominalisation doesn't necessarily involve the definite article. Surdéclinaison can happen with indefinite declensions too).

As with noun modifiers, the resulting nominalised clause can be inflected in the genitive case, which itself can be over-inflected, etc. ad nauseam:

ga izunlaj itos umpej: the house I live in -> ga izunlaj iteos: the one I live in -> ga izunlaj itevosi: of the one I live in -> ga izunlaj itevosej: the one of the one I live in -> ga izunlaj itevosevi: of the one of the one I live in -> ga izunlaj itevosevej: the one of the one of the one I live in -> ga izunlaj itevosevevi: of the one of the one of the one I live in -> ...

Naturally, this gets old very fast. But it's all perfectly grammatical.

Noun Clauses

Probably the main use for nominalised relative subclauses is what I've seen in English called noun clauses. To understand what they are, I first need you to remember completive clauses, as I introduced in this post:

Koba go delun ja|zinuz itos ufedan ige: It's great that you've got a job again.

Gvaj mumpedin ubva|si iges isej etok: He said that (he) wanted to come to my house.

Ga mudikun itos ifi|zo|n etok: He asked who I was.

In Moten, completive clauses are used for two main purposes: reported speech, and full situations, facts or actions used as the subject or object of a verb. In English, noun clauses are a superset of such completive clauses, used for these two purposes, but also in other constructions as shown here:

  • "I don't know who it is";
  • "Whatever you want, I will give it to you".

In those constructions, the subclause is still the subject or object of a verb, but they represent neither reported speech (although the first one does look like reported speech), nor situations, facts or actions. Rather, they represent an item, i.e. an object, concept or person, described by a full clause rather than by a noun phrase. So, how are those handled in Moten?

Let's first focus on the first example: "I don't know who it is". In English (and quite a few other languages, including non-Indo-European ones like Japanese), this sentence is identical in structure with a reported speech sentence, i.e. the subclause is formed like a reported question, with an interrogative word. In Moten, the equivalent sentence Mudikun itos vajaguz us ito (literally "(I) haven't learned who (it) is") sounds strange. It sounds as if it would mean "I don't know 'who is it?'", i.e. "I don't know what the sentence 'who is it?' means". It may be because the expected referent of a reported question, at least in Moten, is the question itself, rather than whatever the answer to that question is.

So how do you handle it in Moten? In this case, there is no good way of translating this sentence while keeping the subclause. The closest would be Fokez ludosun eksaz us ito, i.e. "I don't know that person". Depending on the context of the conversation, one might also want to use the pronoun semik: "someone, but I don't know whom".

In other cases, with more complicated noun clauses, it might not be possible to rewrite the sentence this way. However, there is an alternative. Take for instance the sentence: "I know where you can find your brother" (ominous isn't it?!). This is equivalent to "I know the location where you can find your brother", a sentence that is easy to translate in Moten using a relative subclause: |Sukedon zunla|lekuz iges zunledan a|lekuz ito (literally: "(I) have found out the place that (you) can locate (your) same-sex sibling". The verb izunla|leki strictly means "to find" as in "to locate", i.e. "to find the location of a something or someone", while the verb ja|leki means "to find" as in "to find out", i.e. "to discover the solution to a problem"). Moreover, in that sentence zunledan is quite redundant, especially in a language like Moten that likes to leave as much as possible omitted that can be inferred by context. So you can omit that word, and use the relative clause by itself. Naturally, you will need to over-inflect it as shown in the previous section. The result is: |Sukedon zunla|lekuz igedesun a|lekuz ito (literally: "(I) have learned the one that (you) can locate (your) same-sex sibling"), and is the most natural way to translate "I know where you can find your brother" (at least when speaking to a male person).

Here are a few more examples to illustrate the use of nominalised relative clauses in this way:

Etok! Isej etedon jezeti saj etok!: Yes! I really heard what you said! (literally: "(I) did! (I) really did hear the one (you) said!")

Polteduzun ipolti agdemun itedosun ipe|laj us ito: I can't see who is opening the door (literally: "(I) don't see the one that is opening the door").

Lusos jagi etedon a|lekuz ito: I know why they left (literally: "I have found out the one that they went". Note that without context this sentence is ambiguous and could mean just as well "I know where they went", "I know when they left" or even "I know how they left". This structure is just as ambiguous as the underlying relative subclause it is derived from. If disambiguation is required, the underlying head of the relative clause will simply not be omitted).

Let's now look at the second example: "Whatever you want, I will give it to you". This case is actually simpler than the previous one, as the sentence is basically equivalent to "I will give you whatever you want", or to "I will give you anything (that) you want". In this last form, the sentence is trivial to translate into Moten: Gedvaj iges |lemdutun |laba joplude|n ige (literally: "(I) will give to you anything that (you) want to have"). Here again, the indefinite pronoun |lemut: "anything, whatever" is somewhat redundant, at least for Moten sensibilities, and can be omitted, provided the relative subclause is over-inflected. The result is: Gedvaj igdesun |laba joplude|n ige (literally: "(I) will give to you one that (you) want to have"), which the shortest and most common way to translate "I will give you whatever you want". Notice that the only actual difference between this construction and the one described earlier is that the relative subclause here is over-inflected in the indefinite form, while it was definite in the previous case. Indeed, this is the only true difference between them: the first construction has a definite referent, while the second one has an indefinite one. In English the difference is made clear by the absence or presence of the suffix "-ever", while in Moten the difference is made clear by the presence or absence of the definite article. So, if you take the last sentence I showed you and over-inflect the relative clause in the definite form instead of the indefinite form, you will get Gedvaj igedesun |laba joplude|n ige, which means: "I will give you what you want".

Of course, such sentences are not limited to "whatever". Instead of |lemut, the omitted head of the nominalised relative clause can naturally also be |lemik: "anyone, who(m)ever" or even |lemun: "any, whichever". For instance:

zgeboz itos o budazun ito: Whoever is tired may sit over there (literally: "one who is tired may sit over there". Here the nominalised relative subclause is in the indefinite nominative case, so there is no overt over-inflection in this case. It's still considered a case of surdéclinaison though. Notice how izgeboj: "to work on, to suffer from" is used here in the perfect aspect to mean "to be tired". Notice also the verb ibutaj: "to sit").

Ba gedvaj igdesun opa ga gedvaj ige: Whichever you want, I want it as well (literally: "one that you want to have I too want to have").

Context will usually be enough to disambiguate. If not, the head will simply not be omitted.

Adverbial Subclauses

So far, all the examples above have only featured nominalised relative subclauses used as subjects or objects of verbs, or in the genitive case to illustrate the ability to recursively over-inflect them indefinitely. However, as I showed in the previous post, genitive noun phrases can be over-inflected in any case or function, forming adverbial phrases like modi|leveda|n: "to (my) mother's". The question is thus whether this is possible as well for relative subclauses. The answer is naturally yes, and as over-inflected genitive phrases can become adverbial phrases, over-inflected noun clauses can become adverbial clauses.

If you remember this post, you remember that I wrote then that I wouldn't handle adverbial clauses yet. The main reason was because I needed to introduce surdéclinaison in order to handle them. Now that it is done, there's no reason why I shouldn't discuss the last type of subordinate clauses, so let's do it right now.

I'll start with the noun clauses in "-ever", as those are the easiest ones to understand. As I showed in the previous section, such clauses are translated in Moten with relative subclauses nominalised without article, since the underlying head is one of the indefinite pronouns |lemik, |lemut and |lemun. We've also seen quite a long time ago that like interrogative adverbs, indefinite adverbs are translated by using forms of the pronoun mut and its derivatives, inflected with functional prefixes. Of course, this includes |lemut, from which we can form mo|lemut: "anywhere, wherever", di|lemut: "anytime, whenever", ko|lemut: "anyhow, however", etc. In the same way, over-inflecting indefinite noun clauses will result in the equivalent of noun clauses starting with indefinite adverbs. For instance:

Ba jagi mojtos, ga izunlaj ito: Wherever you go, I'll be there (literally: "At one that you go (to), I am situated". Note how the future tense in English is not translated by a prospective aspect in Moten. It's not forbidden, but not using it here makes the described promise more immediate and tangible).

Lezuz luden |lezuj koeto, opa ga lezuz ige!: However he sang this song, I can sing it as well! (literally: "By one that (he) sang this song, I too can sing (it)!", a rather boisterous claim, as it implies immediate ability to do so, not just knowledge)

Of course, not all noun clauses that are over-inflected with functional prefixes are equivalent to adverbial subclauses in English, as shown in this example:

Gedvaj |lajges zanede|n joplej ito: I'm giving the ring to whoever wants it (literally: "(I) give the ring for one that wants to have (it)". Here, the over-inflected noun clause is equivalent to a noun clause in English as well, rather than an adverbial clause).

There is no distinction in Moten though.

All this is very interesting, but adverbial subclauses in "-ever" are not the most common type of adverbial subclauses. When thinking of them, people usually think more often of subclauses starting with "when", "while", "because", etc. And we still haven't seen how to translate those. This is about to change. We still haven't seen what happens when we over-inflect a definite noun clause with a functional prefix, and as you might have guessed by now, the result is indeed often an adverbial subclause, as shown in the following examples:

Umpevi jagi diteos, opa ga jagi ito: When he leaves the house, I'll go as well (literally: "At the one that (he) goes from the house, I too go". Here, the omitted head of the relative subclause is something like dabolna: "moment, time". Note that just as with nouns, the temporal prefix di- here is optional and can be omitted when the meaning is clear. So the sentence can also be written as: Umpevi jagi iteos, opa ga jagi ito).

Oto vozdan mu |zege, |lalos izunla|legvi etok: Because he didn't have a good car, I had to find him one (literally: "Because of the one that (he) didn't have an appropriate car, (I) had to locate (one) for him". The word oto is a borrowing from French meaning simply "car", while vo|sa is an abstract noun that means basically "beauty" or "beautiful", but can also indicate appropriateness).

Bvaj motinea jelde|n djetedon, ga umpedin izu|lebi egek!: While you were sleeping in your room, I cleaned the house! (literally: "During the one that (you) were sleeping at your room, (I) caused the house to become clean". Here, we have an example of the prefix di- used with the accusative case to indicate duration. This works with over-inflected subclauses just as well as with nominals. And just as with the first example, the prefix is actually optional and can be omitted, so the sentence can be rewritten as: Bvaj motinea jelde|n etedon, ga umpedin izu|lebi egek!)

One important thing to remember is that the surdéclinaison here shows the function of the noun clause in the main clause, not the function of the omitted head in the subclause (that is left unmarked, as with any other relative subclause). Often those two are the same, but not always, and English and Moten behave differently in that case, as shown in an example that we have already encountered:

Lusos jagi etedon a|lekuz ito: I know when they left (literally: "I have found out the one that they went". In English, the role of the omitted head in the subclause is to indicate a time, so "when" is used. In Moten, this is irrelevant. Rather, the role of the subclause itself is the only thing that counts. And since the subclause is the object of ja|leki: "to find out", it must be put in the accusative case, which has its core meaning rather than its temporal meaning here).

Also, just as with indefinite noun clauses, not all definite noun clauses that are over-inflected with a functional prefix are equivalent to adverbial subclauses in English, as shown in this example:

Kafe ludamun gomik ja|zi|n etok? O ibuda|n gojteos: Who did you get that coffee from? From the one who's sitting over there (literally: "That coffee from whom did (you) receive? From the one that is sitting over there". This example is typical of an actual informal conversation, where one doesn't always answer with full sentences, but only with the relevant fragment. This is especially true in Moten where context plays such an important role).

You might have thought that I would be finished with this section, but there's something very important I haven't mentioned yet: there is a second way to create adverbial subclauses, one that is actually simpler than the one described above, and far more commonly used. The only reason I discussed the complicated method first is because it is more general than the method I am about to show you (it can be used to form all kinds of noun clauses, including indefinite ones, while the following method is restricted to adverbial subclauses of the definite type), and it flowed naturally from the discussion of nominalised relative clauses.

This second method is extremely simple: instead of taking a clause, putting its auxiliary in the dependent form, and over-inflecting it with the article and case affixes and/or functional prefixes, you just take a normal, independent clause, and directly add a functional prefix on its auxiliary, and possibly case affixes. There's no need to put the verb in its dependent form, and no need to add the article. This is far simpler than the method I discussed before, but it has two limitations:

  1. The functional prefix is mandatory, even if it's the spatial prefix mo- or the temporal prefix di-;
  2. The result can only be used as a true definite adverbial subclause, i.e. neither a core argument, nor a clause equivalent to an English subclause in "-ever".

Since most useful adverbial subclauses are of that form though, in most cases they are used nearly exclusively. In any case, the subclauses in the three examples I gave above can be rewritten using this method, giving the following, more natural results (that mean exactly the same as the sentences above):

Umpevi jagi dito, opa ga jagi ito: When he leaves the house, I'll go as well (notice the lack of dependent form or article).

Oto vozdan mu |zegek, |lalos izunla|legvi etok: Because he didn't have a good car, I had to find him one.

Bvaj motinea jelde|n djedokun, ga umpedin izu|lebi egek!: While you were sleeping in your room, I cleaned the house! (you can still use case affixes with this construction, but the prefix isn't optional here)

Using either method to form adverbial subclauses is fine, although this second method is by far the most commonly used (at least by the only known speaker of the language). It is also far less error-prone.

What's Next

So, with this we end the description of surdéclinaison as it is used with verbs. And I think this is more than enough for this post. Next time, I will focus on less general patterns of surdéclinaison, as well as isolated and/or non-productive usages. This will help you get a more complete picture of how surdéclinaison is used in Moten, and how it permeates the whole language. See you then!