Dimensions of Possession
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Dimensions of Possession
Typological Studies in Language (TSL) A companion series to the journal Studies in Language
General Editor
Michael Noonan
Assistant Editors
Spike Gildea, Suzanne Kemmer
Editorial Board Wallace Chafe (Santa Barbara) Bernard Comrie (Leipzig) R. M. W. Dixon (Canberra) Matthew Dryer (Buffalo) John Haiman (St Paul) Kenneth Hale (Cambridge, Mass.) Bernd Heine (Köln) Paul Hopper (Pittsburgh) Andrej Kibrik (Moscow)
Ronald Langacker (San Diego) Charles Li (Santa Barbara) Andrew Pawley (Canberra) Doris Payne (Oregon) Frans Plank (Konstanz) Jerrold Sadock (Chicago) Dan Slobin (Berkeley) Sandra Thompson (Santa Barbara)
Volumes in this series will be functionally and typologically oriented, covering specific topics in language by collecting together data from a wide variety of languages and language typologies. The orientation of the volumes will be substantive rather than formal, with the aim of investigating universals of human language via as broadly defined a data base as possible, leaning toward cross-linguistic, diachronic, developmental and live-discourse data.
Volume 47 Dimensions of Possession Edited by Irène Baron, Michael Herslund and Finn Sørensen
Dimensions of Possession
Edited by Irène Baron Michael Herslund Finn Sørensen Copenhagen Business School
John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam/Philadelphia
8
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 Dimensions of Possession / edited by Irène Baron, Michael Herslund and Finn Sørensen. p. cm. (Typological Studies in Language, issn 0167–7373 ; v. 47) Includes bibliographical references and indexes. 1. Grammar, Comparative and general--Possessives. I. Baron, Irène. II. Herslund, Michael. III. Sørensen, Finn, 1942- IV. Series. P299.P67 D56 2001 415--dc21 isbn 90 272 29511 (Eur.) / 1 58811 0621 (US) (Hb; alk. paper)
2001035089
© 2001 – John Benjamins B.V. 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
Table of Contents
Introduction: Dimensions of possession Michael Herslund and Irène Baron 1. The operational basis of possession: A dimensional approach revisited Hansjakob Seiler
1
27
2. The concept of possession in Danish grammar Ole Togeby
41
3. Possession spaces in Danish Finn Sørensen
57
4. The verb have in Nyulnyulan languages William McGregor
67
5. Semantics of the verb have Irène Baron and Michael Herslund
85
6. Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented constructions in Russian Per Durst-Andersen
99
7. Datives and comitatives as neighbouring spouses The case of indirect objects and comitatives in Danish Lars Heltoft
115
8. Towards a typology of French NP de NP structures or how much possession is there in complex noun phrases with de in French? Inge Bartning
147
9. Spanish N de N structures from a cognitive perspective Henrik Høeg Müller 10. The grammatical category “Possession’’ and the part–whole relation in French Martin Riegel
169
187
vi
Contents
11. Kinship in grammar Östen Dahl and Maria Koptjevskaja-Tamm
201
12. (In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese Anne-Marie Spanoghe
227
13. Possessives with extensive use: A source of definite articles? Kari Fraurud 14. Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin A. Machtelt Bolkestein 15. The difference a category makes in the expression of possession and inalienability Marianne Mithun
243 269
285
16. Ways of explaining possession Bernd Heine
311
Index of languages
329
Index of authors
331
Index of subjects
334
Introduction Dimensions of possession Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
.
Introduction
Possession is a very elusive notion. It is a complex and vague notion which in order to be expressed has to draw on different linguistic structures. For there is namely no such thing as an established possessive construction in the same sense as there are locational or equational structures which can be identified by their linguistic material, cf. the contribution to the present volume by Sørensen. Whether it is approached from the semasiological or the onomasiological angle, the problems present themselves immediately. The semasiological approach seems offhand hopeless because of the mere fact that no form or construction in any language conveys exclusively what everybody would agree on identifying as possession. And one could argue, as does Togeby in the present volume, that in a language like Danish possession is not at all grammaticalised. As is well known, even the genitive, which, where it exists, should be the expression of possession par excellence has in most languages numerous uses unlikely to qualify as possessive. And the same is true of predicative constructions with verbs with the general meaning ‘have’, which also have numerous uses that only with difficulty can be reconciled with a common pretheoretical understanding of possession. Since possession is inherently a concept, not a linguistic construction, the only way to approach it seems to be from the onomasiological angle. This approach is consequently the one chosen by most grammarians and linguists. Starting from an intuitive notion of possession, the domain is made more precise by listing the different kinds of relations which seem to fall under such a common notion. This is true of traditional grammarians as well as of modern linguists. An example of the first category is Nygaard’s characterisation of the possessive genitive from his syntax of Old Norse: “In connection with a noun
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
having a concrete meaning the genitive is used with the name of the person or thing, to whom or which something belongs or is related by virtue of ownership — family relation — friendship or enmity — superior or subaltern position — origin, source, reason, cause — natural or necessary (conceptual) connection — established order or a relation created by circumstances’’ (1906: 129). As an example of the second category, the modern linguists, one can quote Seiler’s characterisation: “Semantically, the domain of POSSESSION can be defined as bio-cultural. It is the relationship between a human being and his kinsmen, his body parts, his material belongings, his cultural and intellectual products. In a more extended view, it is the relationship between parts and wholes of an organism’’ (1983a: 4). Such conceptual delimitations of possession can finally be coined into something like the seven types of predicative possession identified by Heine (1997: 34 ff.): Physical possession, Temporary possession, Permanent possession, Inalienable possession, Abstract possession, Inanimate inalienable possession, Inanimate alienable possession. Some of these are of course less prototypical than others: there may be less agreement among linguists on the proper inclusion into the realm of possession of the Abstract possession (I have no time, I have a cold) or the Inanimate alienable possession (The tree has crows on it). The prototypical case of possession is expounded as a cluster of properties such as ‘human possessor, concrete possessee, possessor having the right to use the possessee, spatial proximity between the two, no temporal limit on the possessive relation’ (Heine 1997: 39 ff.). This characterisation is also close to Seiler’s: “Linguistic POSSESSION consists of the representation of a relationship between a substance and another substance. Substance A, called the POSSESSOR, is prototypically [+ animate], more specifically [+ human], and still more specifically [+ EGO] or close to the speaker’’ (1983a: 4 and this volume). As the comparisons show, the traditional grammarians’ insight is not conspicuously inferior to that of the modern linguists’. It is of course the same problem that they are facing. Following Seiler we can say that what is normally called possession is the linguistic expression of the relation between two entities, a Possessor and a Possessum, such that one, the Possessor, is seen as being in some way related to the other, the Possessum, as having it near or controlling it. The kind of relation between the two can be of various sorts, as the possibilities listed by Nygaard quoted above, but is often deducible from the combined lexical content of the Possessor and the Possessum nouns, cf. Baron and Herslund (this volume). We can illustrate this by three simple examples: (1) a.
Mary has a daughter. Mary’s daughter
Introduction
b. Mary has a house. Mary’s house c. Mary has a pen. Mary’s pen
In (1a) the relational noun daughter induces a kinship reading in both the predicative and the attributive expression. In (1b) the noun house induces an ownership reading in the predicative expression, but the corresponding attributive expression is much more polysemous. In (1c) finally, the word pen can in the predicative construction induce an ownership reading as in (4b), but the availability reading, i.e. ‘Mary has a pen at her disposal right now’, is more probable, and the same is true of the attributive phrase, viz. ‘You can use Mary’s pen. Her name is on it’ (ownership) or ‘Mary isn’t here right now, but there is a pen on her desk. We can use Mary’s pen’ (availability). But as soon as one moves on from rather simple cases like these, numerous problems occur. One source of such problems is the fundamentally polysemous nature of the verbs occurring in predicative possessive expressions such as English have. In many languages, a have verb has at least three distinct uses of which two are not clearly of the possessive kind. The first use is the one illustrated in (2), i.e. a stative relation between two distinct entities: (2) [Mary] has [a cat].
This is what we regard as prototypical possession corresponding with Heine’s permanent possession, cf. above. The second use is the situation where the construction only denotes one entity in a certain state: (3) [Mary] has a cold.
This is the case of ‘abstract possession’, cf. Heine (1997: 34), but it is debatable whether it should be included in the concept of possession, or whether, rather, the Possessum in such cases merges with the verb to form a verbo-nominal predicate, cf. Baron and Herslund (1998). It is true, however, that there exists an attributive expression in such cases just as in the case of possession proper, viz. Mary’s cold and Mary’s cat. The third case is the use of have as an auxiliary verb: (4) [Mary] has bought a cat.
This construction can historically be traced back to a possessive construction, i.e. a construction where the object is only the object of have, the participle
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
being the complement of the object: Mary has [a cat bought]. But it seems best to disregard it in a discussion of possession, because the have-part of it now clearly involves only one entity in a state: the other entity, a cat in (4), is related to the first entity not by have, but by the lexical verb. It is the lexical meaning of the verb buy which accounts for the possessive content of (4), which accordingly disappears when other verbs are chosen: (5) Mary has {seen, fed, caressed, chased . . .} a cat.
The following discussion of possession is, like the articles in the present volume, articulated along the three major dimensions which constitute the principal linguistic realisations of possession: predicative possession (Section 2), attributive possession (Section 3) and the constructions “in between’’, i.e. the phenomena variously labelled external possession or possessor ascension (Section 4).
. Predicative possession As seen above, possession occurs in both predicative and attributive constructions, i.e. the possessive relation is either expressed by a verb, hence explicitly asserted, or by a nominal (a genitive phrase), in which case the relation is presupposed. As seen in the examples above, the attributive construction is therefore inherently much more polysemous than the predicative one, cf. Heine (1997: 25 ff.). We return to this question in 3.1. . Possessor, Location and Experiencer Whereas predicative possession, i.e. the asserted relation between a Possessor and a Possessum, is often realised by the Agent–Patient role schema, there are two other basic role configurations which seem to be of more immediate importance for the interpretation of possession: Location – Experiencer –
Argument Stimulus
Figure 1.
These two patterns have one interesting and quite fundamental property in common with possessive structures. Possession involves, as seen above, the relation between two entities, but these two entities are only assigned the roles
Introduction
of Possessor and Possessum in virtue of one another, i.e. there is no Possessor without a Possessum, no Possessum without a Possessor. Seiler (1983a: 4) speaks in fact of a “strictly binary relation’’. There is thus a basic solidarity in the underlying semantic role schema which is also found in the case of Location-Argument and Experiencer-Stimulus. Nothing is a place until something is placed there, thus becoming the argument, as it were, of the place (cf. Guillet and Leclère 1992; Baron and Herslund 1997a: 135): in e.g. The book is on the table, the table denotes only a place by virtue of the book being placed upon it. Nothing is an experiencer until a stimulus is present, and nothing is a stimulus if not perceived as such: in e.g. The noise scared Sharon, the noise denotes an objectively occurring physical phenomenon, which only obtains the status of stimulus by being perceived and reacted to. In this respect, the AgentPatient role schema as referred to above, is however quite different: something can be an agent without the presence of a patient, viz. Peter jumps, and something can be a patient without any identifiable agent, viz. The water evaporates. The conclusion is of course that possession has more in common with the Location and Experiencer schemata than with the Agent schema. And it is the Location schema which, as the simplest and most primitive and concrete notion, seems more basic, hence the traditional and widespread idea that possession is a kind of “sophisticated’’ Location (cf. among others Lyons 1967, 1968; Clark 1978; Freeze 1992; Spanoghe 1995: 30 ff.; Baron and Herslund 1997a; Sørensen 1997a), whereas other scholars admit that location is important in connection with possession, but that possession cannot be reduced to it, cf. in particular Isacˇenko (1974), Seiler (1983a), Heine (1997) and Heltoft (this volume). .. The first argument in favour of a locative interpretation of possession is the observation that many languages exhibit striking structural resemblances between existential, locative and possessive constructions, cf. e.g. Lyons (1967); Christie (1970); Clark (1978). Existentials are often found to pattern with one kind of possessive construction whereas locatives pattern with another, as regards word order, definiteness of the Possessum as well as choice of verb (cf. Clark 1978). This can be illustrated by French: (6) a.
Existential Il y a un livre sur la table. it there has a book on the table ‘There is a book on the table’
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
Possessive1 Jean a un livre. ‘Jean has a book’ b. Locative Le livre est sur la table. ‘The book is on the table’ Possessive2 Le livre est à Jean. the book is to Jean ‘The book is Jean’s’
In the a-examples un livre ‘a book’ is indefinite and follows the locative marker y,1 which anticipates the locative phrase sur la table ‘on the table’, as well as the Possessor subject Jean. In the b-examples le livre ‘the book’ is definite and precedes the locative sur la table ‘on the table’ as well as the Possessor à Jean. These patterns are no coincidence: whereas many languages have the same verb in all four cases, some have two different verbs manifesting the pattern shown in (6), where one verb appears in the existential and the possessive1 (the have-construction), another in the locative and the possessive2 (the be-construction). And in languages with two verbs, it is never the case that “the existential and possessive2 [. . .] appear as a pair’’ (Clark 1978: 109). .. A second argument for the basically locative nature of possession takes its point of departure in Benveniste’s (1966a) observation that have is an inverted be.2 If have is an inverted be, then the passive of have should be equivalent to a be-clause, i.e. have an existential meaning. Now, passives of have are rare, probably due to the fact that have like be is a state verb, and such verbs are not readily passivisable. Yet, the Danish verb have has a passive, haves, which occurs in restricted uses with the meaning ‘be’, ‘exist’, ‘be available’, i.e. precisely in existential constructions:3 (7) Røget fisk haves. smoked fish have-pass ‘Smoked fish for sale’ Den kvalitet haves ikke. that quality have-pass neg ‘That quality is not available’
Introduction
As seen in (7), the passive of have occurs, like most passives, normally without an agent-phrase. But one interesting thing about the demoted subject of an active clause is that its “true nature’’, its semantic role, in many languages is so to speak revealed in the passive where it is realised as an oblique complement. So the active subject of locative verbs like Danish rumme, indeholde ‘contain’ will in the passive not have the normal agentive preposition af ‘by’, but rather a locative preposition like i ‘in’:4 (8) Active a. Det er utroligt hvad den bil rummer. it is incredible what that car contains ‘It is incredible how much that car contains’ b. Kassen indeholder tredive flasker. box-def contains thirty bottle-pl ‘The box contains thirty bottles’ Passive c. Det er utroligt hvad der rummes i den bil. it is incredible what there contain-pass in that car ‘It is incredible how much is contained in that car’ d. Tredive flasker indeholdes i kassen. thirty bottle-pl contain-pass in box-def ‘Thirty bottles are contained in the box’
This is true also of the passive of have : (9) a.
Den kvalitet haves i alle butikker. that quality have-pass in all shop-pl ‘That quality is found in all shops’ b. Oplysninger haves hos indehaveren.5 information have-pass at owner-def ‘Information available from the owner’
These facts seem to indicate the profound locative nature of have. A further piece of evidence is the fact that certain have-clauses with a definite object actually convey a rather concrete locative meaning insofar as they answer questions in where, cf. Wierzbicka (1988: 345): (10) – Where are the children? – John has them/the children.
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
Such data also seem to contradict Isacˇenko’s contention (1974: 76) that have no longer denotes relative positions in space. .. Apart from the arguments for the locative nature of possession, even in have-constructions, adduced so far, there is a further argument in favour of a locative interpretation in the shape of the notion of Sub-Place often found in have-constructions. This notion covers the case of prepositional complements which specify the actual location of the Possessum. The Possessum is thus represented as located, first, in a possessive relation to the Possessor, and then in a locative relation with respect to another place. Different patterns of denotational inclusion can be identified in such constructions. In examples like (11): (11) a. The bank has a branch in Bristol. b. Mary has a child on her lap.
A branch in (11a) is denotatively included in the bank via a Part–Whole relation and locally situated by in Bristol; in (11b) it is her lap which is denotatively included in the subject in a Part–Whole relation whereas the object is simply located with respect to the subject by have and with respect to her lap by the local preposition on, cf. Baron and Herslund (1997b) and this volume. Such structures are neatly explained under the assumption that have is a basically locative verb which can be accompanied by a sub-place which locates the object noun. This notion of sub-place only makes sense if there also is a place. And this place can only be the subject of have. The property of combining with a sub-place is shared by stative locative verbs such as English contain, keep, etc.: (12) He has his money in an old sock. The museum contains some fine pieces in its Degas collection. He keeps his goats in a garden shed.
The fact that have-constructions display an apparent Agent-Patient configuration, i.e. a transitive construction with a non-local verb originally meaning ‘take, grasp’, is often adduced as an argument against the locative nature of possession, cf. e.g. the contribution by Heltoft. This argument is however weakened by the fact that uncontroversial locative relations can also be expressed by a transitive schema in languages which have chosen this way of expressing possession, cf. English verbs like contain, hold, keep, occupy (a position), etc. Since the transitive Agent-Patient schema thus covers both
Introduction
possession and location, it cannot be used as an argument in favour of the non-locative nature of possession. There are, on the contrary, as shown by the data adduced so far good reasons for believing that the subject of have is semantically a Location only posing syntactically as an Agent. . The two-sided nature of possession: have vs. belong A major distinction within predicative possession is the one between have and belong constructions, i.e. on the one hand constructions with the Possessor as topic and grammatical subject, on the other constructions having the Possessum as topic and subject. This distinction is reminiscent of the two possessive structures, the existential and the locative, discussed in 2.1.1 above. And historically, it seems primary insofar as it can be traced back to the earliest Indo-European, cf. Benveniste (1949, 1966a); Baron (1997: 117). But also cross-linguistically it seems fundamental: it is apparently found in all languages (Heine 1997: 33), although Isacˇenko (1974: 64 f.) expresses some serious reservations as to its universality. There seems to be a characteristic asymmetry between the two constructions, as contended e.g. by Seiler (1983a: 61 ff.): whereas have-constructions tend to be very polysemous, but to include ownership in their meaning, cf. Heine (1997: 32), belong-constructions are more restricted denoting only ownership, i.e. a sub-category of possession. We do not think, however, that the importance of the asymmetry should be exaggerated. belong is indeed polysemous and is not restricted to expressing ownership, at least in the European languages we are familiar with: Eng. belong, Fr. appartenir, Span. pertenecer, Germ. gehören, Dan. tilhøre, all have both (concrete) locative and possessive meanings, the two being often distinguished by partially different constructions. This is for instance the case in French, where two different choices of clitics, lui and y, reveal the possessive and the locative readings respectively (cf. Kotschi 1981: 93). And a similar distinction is found in Danish, where the systematic alternation between a verbal prefix, with a predominantly abstract meaning, and a postverbal particle, with a predominantly concrete meaning, is put to use in order to distinguish the possessive from the (concrete) locative meaning of the verb: (13) French a. Cette équipe, Jean y appartient. this team Jean there belongs ‘This team, Jean belongs (= is part of) to it’
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
b. Cette équipe, Jean lui appartient. this team Jean it-dat belongs ‘This team, Jean belongs (=is the property of) to it’ Danish a. Bogen tilhører biblioteket. Book-def belongs library-def ‘The book belongs to the library’ b. Bogen hører til på nederste hylde. Book-def belongs to on bottom shelf ‘The book belongs on the bottom shelf ’
cf. also the different translations and choice of preposition in the two cases in English. Even if the two verbs share a common core of meaning, i.e. location and ownership, belong seems to be more concrete than have, to be more of a “fully’’ lexical verb than have (cf. Isacˇenko 1974: 64 f. and Seiler 1983a: 62 ff.), the latter having, as may be seen, a larger array of increasingly abstract meanings: HAVE
BELONG Location Ownership
Availability Kinship Abstract possession ...
Figure 2.
Basically however, the two verbs seem to be converses and to constitute what looks very much like a voice distinction: the transitive have-construction topicalises the Possessor, as the active topicalises the Agent, whereas the intransitive belong-construction topicalises the Possessum as the passive topicalises the Patient. And it seems indeed natural that the belong-construction and the passive should both have a more restricted meaning potential than the have-construction and the active, because the occurrence of the different constructions is determined by the lexical content of their subjects, and the possible class of subjects of belong, the Possessum, is inherently less “topic-worthy’’ than that of have, the Possessor. As the
Introduction
passive is a marked choice vis-à-vis the active, the belong-construction is marked vis-à-vis the have-construction, and is therefore more restricted and precise in meaning. But one could ask what exactly it is that makes ‘ownership’ contrary to ‘availability, kinship, etc.’, so important that it can be lexically expressed in two diametrically opposite ways, i.e. why is it precisely the ownership submeaning of possession that exhibits a lexical choice? The answer could be that the ownership relation is central and even prototypical (cf. Bartning 1993: 78 ff. and Heine 1997: 39) because ownership — of course a very culture dependent notion — is the most salient representative of the possessive relation, i.e. a basically locative relation between two distinct entities enriched with “something more’’, this “more’’ being of an institutionalised or legal sense. Ownership constitutes thus a central point on the semantic scale stretching from inalienable possession, or the Part–Whole relation, to mere availability: Part–Whole <
Ownership
Availability >
Figure 3.
As seen in Figure 2 above, belong selects only the ownership meaning, besides its basic locative meaning, and is, as the marked choice, necessary when this meaning is crucial, cf. (14): (14) This watch was your father’s, so now it belongs to you. ?This watch was your father’s, so now you have it.
The concept of ‘ownership’, which occupies the central point on the scale of Figure 3, thus seems important enough to be expressible in two different ways by a lexical opposition between an unmarked (have) and a marked (belong) member. But it is, again, the two-sided nature of possession, the solidarity between Possessor and Possessum, which makes this opposition available. And the unmarked status of have in this opposition does not necessarily amount to its reduction to a kind of copular verb, as pointed out by McGregor in his study of the verb have in languages of the Australian North-West. The marked status of belong-constructions is also related to the fact that languages with a have-verb seem to have developed such a verb precisely in order to align their possessive and experiential construction with their canonical agentive pattern, viz. John has a boat and John feels a pain on a par with John makes a boat, thereby identifying the three major semantic functions
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
Agent, Location, Experiencer, with Subject and Topic in one and the same syntactic schema in Figure 4. {Agent, Loc, Exp} Subject Topic
– – –
{Patient, Arg, Stim} Object Comment
Figure 4.
The basic distinction between have and belong is crucially linked to the fundamental aspects of the semantics of possession as noted above in 2.1 in the discussion of the semantic roles associated with it, aspects which hitherto have not fully received the attention they deserve, we believe. The two-sided nature of possession, a nature it shares with location and experience, has many wider and important ramifications among which the syntactic phenomena related to Russian verbs with the general meaning ‘give, present, supply’ studied by Durst-Andersen and the syntax of indirect objects and co-subjects in Danish discussed by Heltoft in his contribution. The fundamental solidarity between the two members of the possessive relation also accounts for the morphological distinction between subject-like and object-like possessive pronouns and determiners, as studied by Seiler (1983b), and it is further reflected in the extended uses of possessives presented by Fraurud in the present volume.
. Attributive possession When we come to attributive possession, we enter a domain where parameters such as alienable vs. inalienable become salient, cf. the contributions by Riegel, Dahl and Koptjevskaja-Tamm, Spanoghe, and Mithun. Many languages make a distinction between these two kinds of possession, and the distinction is mainly found in attributive constructions, and in constructions with external possessors, to which we return in 4. below. . Alienable and inalienable possession Attributive possessive constructions are in general much more polysemous than the predicative constructions. Whereas Mary has a house probably only allows one reading, the corresponding attributive construction, Mary’s house,
Introduction
allows several, viz. ‘the house Mary has designed, lives in, is always talking about, etc.’, besides of course ‘the house Mary owns’. This inherently polysemous nature of genitival constructions has been pointed out several times, cf. e.g. Benveniste (1966b), Bartning (1993), Sørensen (1997b) as well as the contributions to the present volume by Bartning and Høeg Müller. It is related to the fact that the predicative construction, as mentioned, asserts the possessive link between two entities, and sometimes even lexically specifies it by using concrete verbs like own, possess, etc., whereas this link is simply presupposed in the attributive construction. That is why the predicative construction is primarily used in connection with what Seiler (1983a: 62 ff.) calls ‘established possession’, as opposed to ‘inherent possession’, because the verb itself establishes and asserts the possessive link. With inherently possessed entities, i.e. relational nouns, the predicative construction is rather marginal, at least in the unmodified affirmative, due to the uninformative nature of expressions like Mary has a mother. But when the Possessum is modified, viz. Mary has two mothers, or negated, viz. The Greek goddess Athena had no mother, the sentences become informative and potentially relevant. Attributive possession seems to be the preferred domain for distinctions along the alienable-inalienable dimension. If attributive constructions presuppose a possessive relation rather than assert and establish it, it is obvious that they are unambiguous only when the possessive relation is so to speak already contained in the Possessum noun, i.e. when it is a relational noun. Now, apart from kinship terms, other so-called relational nouns are inherently ambiguous insofar as they can be used both relationally and non-relationally. Kinship terms, cf. Dahl and Koptjevskaja-Tamm’s paper, are indeed special insofar as they denote both persons and roles, i.e. a relational noun such as father denotes both an adult male and a certain kinship relation, but they name only the relation. Other “relational’’ terms such as body parts simply denote things and do not specify whether these things should be seen as objects or as parts of other things, i.e. nose denotes simply a nose and nothing else. So whereas (15a) is hardly ambiguous, (15b) potentially is: (15) a. Mary’s father b. Mary’s nose
That is probably why many languages feel the necessity of disambiguating phrases like (15b) by specifying whether nose should be seen as a part of Mary’s face, or as an object belonging to or produced by Mary, because she is a sculptor or a plastic surgeon. And in languages making such a distinction, many nouns
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
which are not offhand conceived as relational can occur in the inalienable construction thereby acquiring a special meaning or status as being presented as extensions of the Possessor rather than as autonomous objects, cf. e.g. Herslund (1980: 106 ff.); Spanoghe (1995: 49); Velázquez-Castillo (1996: 69 ff.).6 . Different genitives Another aspect of attributive possession is the fact that certain languages make use of different genitival constructions, also outside the alienable-inalienable distinction. The best known example of this is English with its “Saxon’’ ’s-genitive and its “Norman’’ of-genitive. Also in Danish there is a distinction between the preposed genitive and different postposed prepositional constructions: (16) a.
hestens hoved horse-def-gen head ‘the horse’s head’ b. hovedet på hesten head-def on horse-def ‘the head of the horse’
Such alternations are however far from random but subject to systematic choices along the theme-rheme or topic-comment dimension, cf. Baron (1996a, 1996b, 1997). The a. construction is preferred when hesten ‘the horse’ is topical, i.e. when talking about or describing an already introduced horse, the b. construction when it is hovedet ‘the head’ which is topical, i.e. talking for instance of a riding accident where several heads may be involved. The most interesting aspect of such distinctions is however that languages with two genitives thus reproduce within the noun phrase the basic existentialpossessive1 vs. locative-possessive2 and the have-belong distinctions, cf. Sections 2.1 and 2.2 above: they distinguish a construction with the Possessor as theme-topic, from a construction with the Possessum as theme-topic, just like the predicative constructions do.
. Between predicative and attributive possession: External possessors One much studied area within the grammar of possession is that of external possessors or possessor ascension. Such labels cover the cases where the
Introduction
Possessor is not expressed in the same noun phrase as the Possessum, viz. as a genitival dependent of the Possessum as in (17): (17) She slapped Tom’s face.
but is instead realised as an argument of the verb: (18) She slapped Tom in the face.
What we have is in a sense something in between predicative and attributive possession: the external possessive construction shares with predicative possession the feature that the possessive link between Possessor and Possessum is conveyed by a verb; but it shares with attributive possession the feature that the possessive link is not asserted by a verb, but presupposed. The effect of the external construction is thus a promotion of the Possessor, which instead of being realised as a dependent of the Possessum becomes a primary clause member, cf. the label ‘possessor ascension’. . Constraints on External Possession Not all possessive structures can be realised externally. There are two main constraints on external possession. The first of these is that the link between Possessum and Possessor is, or can be construed as, a Part–Whole relation, i.e. an inalienable possessive relation. The second constraint, which is more variable cross-linguistically, cf. below, is that the verb must be dynamic. The combined outcome of these two constraints is that the Possessor, promoted to the status of primary clause member, is presented as in some way affected by whatever the verb does to the Possessum. This is illustrated in the following example from Serbo-Croat (Partridge 1964: 105): (19) Želja za duvanom dražila mu je jezik. desire for tobacco tickled him-dat aux tongue ‘The desire for tobacco tickled his tongue’
The presupposed Part–Whole relationship between Possessum and Possessor based upon the lexical content of the two terms is sufficient in order to ensure the correct interpretation. In (19) jezik ‘tongue’ can only be construed as part of mu ‘him’. .. In most Indo-European languages structures with external possessors are thus
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
mainly limited to body or similar organic parts, but in the Balkan languages an external Possessor in the dative, often homonymous with the genitive, is current with kinship terms as well, cf. the following examples from Rumanian and Serbo-Croat: (20) Rumanian El mi-e frate. he me-dat is brother ‘He is my brother’ Serbo-Croat On mi je brat. he me-dat is brother ‘He is my brother’
As shown by examples (20) the Balkan languages also have external Possessors with stative verbs contrary to most other European languages. This general preference for external Possessors over internal ones (König and Haspelmath 1998: 567 f.) seems to be a common feature of the Balkan languages. It must however be related to the general structural feature that the Balkan languages tend to use verbal clitics (dative or genitive pronouns) instead of nominal determiners with all kinds of nouns.7 This feature can in fact be traced back to Hellenistic Greek koinè: (21) F× ,É AXJDoH, 6"Â ¦BÂ J"bJ® J± BXJD‘ oÆ6o*o:ZFT :oL J¬< sy eî Pétros, kai epi taúte: tê: pétra oikodome:so: mu te:n you are Peter and on that def rock build-fut-1sg me-gen def ¦6680F\"< ekkle:sían church ‘You are Peter and upon that rock I shall build my church’ (Math. 16, 18)
.. Another way of realising the external construction, which as seen amounts to promoting the Whole to the status of primary clause member, is by incorporating the Part into the verb, thereby demoting it from the status of primary clause member, cf. König and Haspelmath (1998: 565 f.). In Danish and Swedish synthetic incorporation is sometimes found with body and similar organic parts:
Introduction
(22) Danish De renoverede husets facade. They renovated house-def-gen facade ‘They renovated the facade of the house’ De facaderenoverede huset. They facade-renovated house-def Swedish (Josefsson 1993): Läkaren opererade patientens hjärta. doctor-def operated patient-def-gen heart ‘The doctor operated the patient’s heart’ Läkaren hjärtopererade patienten. Doctor-def heart-operated patient-def ‘The doctor performed heart surgery on the patient’
Similar procedures seem widespread in Australian languages, cf. Evans (1996), Walsh (1996), and is also found in a polysynthetic language such as Mohawk (Mithun 1996: 643): (23) tá:khwasket 2:sg:agt/1:sg:pat-back-scratch ‘Scratch my back!’ (Literally: ‘Backscratch me.’)
. External possessors as experiencers The interpretation of external possession as a promotion of the Possessor, which is presented as affected by the verbal action via the Possessum, leads naturally to the question of the semantic interpretation of such constructions. In many languages the dative case is used with external possessors. Since the dative is, par excellence, the case of the Experiencer, the question is of course whether external Possessors are really still Possessors or should rather be seen as Experiencers, cf. Bolkestein (1983) and the papers by Bolkestein and Mithun in the present volume. One argument in favour of such a conclusion is of course the fact that external constructions mainly or even only occur with dynamic verbs denoting situations where the Possessor is presented as physically affected through the Possessum, cf. e.g. French:
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
(24) Il lui a baisé la main. he her-dat aux kissed the hand ‘He kissed her hand’
In most languages external constructions are therefore not found with sensory verbs. But this constraint is not absolute, cf. Italian (König and Haspelmath 1998: 568): (25) Le ho visto le gambe. her-dat have-1sg seen the legs ‘I have seen her legs’
Constructions like (25) are also current in Portuguese, see the contribution by Spanoghe. And similar constructions are found in French too, where one for instance has things like: (26) On te voit le dos. indef you-dat see-3sg the back ‘One can see your back’
This is not, however, a serious argument against the Experiencer interpretation since utterances such as (26) are typically used not as pure statements of facts, but rather as mild reproaches or warnings. The Experiencer interpretation then becomes relevant, because the Possessor is not threatened by something physical, but as an Experiencer gets exposed to something potentially disagreeable. The Experiencer aspect of the external Possessor further accounts for the difference which is often observable between an “inadvertent’’ reading with internal (attributive) possession as opposed to a “willful act’’ with external possession, as in the following examples from French, cf. examples (17) and (18) above, and Herslund (1997: 33 f.): (27) a.
Elle a heurté le dos de son mari. she aux hit the back of her husband ‘She bumped into her husband’s back’ b. Elle a heurté son mari dans le dos. she aux hit her husband in the back ‘She hit her husband in the back (in order to make him . . .)’
As seen in 2.1 above, possessive structures have important features in common both with Location and with Experience structures, most conspicuously in the solidarity between the two arguments of such structures. There is thus an
Introduction
important shared semantic core between the three, and external possession can then, according to language, be represented as either locative or as experiential. In French, for instance, the two ways of realising the external construction exist, either with the Possessor as direct object and the Possessum as a place, (28a), or the Possessor as a dative (Experiencer) and the Possessum as the direct object, (28b): (28) a.
Elle l’ a frappé sur la joue. she him-acc aux hit on the cheek ‘She hit him on the cheek’ b. Elle lui a frappé la joue. she him-dat aux hit the cheek ‘She hit his cheek’
In Danish, the only way seems to be the locative, either with the Whole (the Possessor) retaining the role as a place, the Part (the Possessum) being realised as a direct object, (29a), or with the Part taking over the role as a place while the Whole (the Possessor) as in French is promoted to direct object, (29b): (29) a.
Hun vred armen om på ham. she twisted arm-def part on him ‘She twisted his arm’ b. Hun slog ham på kinden. she hit him on cheek-def ‘She hit him on the cheek’
The second construction, the Part as place, (29b), is reminiscent of the subplace of predicative possession discussed in 2.1.3 above. In both predicative possession with the Possessor as subject and in external possession with the Possessor as object a sub-place can be specified. Notice the parallelism between the following: (30) a.
Han har et ar på kinden. he has a scar on cheek-def ‘He has a scar on his cheek’ b. Hun slog ham på kinden. she hit him on cheek-def ‘She hit him on the cheek’
In the locative version of external possession, (30b), only the sub-place subsists
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as a remnant of the basically locative structure, the Possessor (the principal place) being promoted to direct object of the clause. . Textual functions of external possession In general, the external construction operates, as seen, on a Part–Whole configuration and its function is to highlight the Possessor, the Whole, either by syntactically promoting this constituent or by demoting the Possessum, the Part, syntactically. This interpretation can be further corroborated by Rumanian. In the external construction of this language the demotion of the Part has as a corollary that when it is realised as the object it cannot be marked by the preposition pe or the pronominal doubling, which is otherwise used with individualised object phrases as in (31), cf. Manoliu-Manea (1994: 29): (31) O v˘ad pe fat˘a. her-acc see-pres-1sg prep girl ‘I see the girl’
But in (32) there is no preposition and no pronominal doubling of the object: (32) Ion s¸ i-a trimis copilul la p˘arin¸ti. Ion refl-has sent child-def to parent-pl ‘Ion has sent his child to his parents’
This contrast shows the dependent status of the object phrase (the Possessum) in external possession as being part of a semantic unit, Whole–Part, where it is incapable of being individualised or independently highlighted: copilul ‘the child’ of (32) does not enjoy the same syntactic autonomy as fata˘ ‘girl’ of (31). As shown by different authors (Velázquez-Castillo 1996: 165 ff., Mithun 1996 and the present volume, Herslund 1997: 32 ff.), the use of external possession is in most languages primarily a question of textual presentation rather than of lexical classification. It is sometimes useful and relevant to present a Possessor not just as a Possessor or as the Whole of a Part–Whole structure, but first and foremost as a participant in the related events, for instance as an Experiencer affected by something (un)pleasant. And contrary to what is often claimed, cf. e.g. König and Haspelmath (1998: 531), there is certainly no reason to restrict the occurrence of external possessors to animates. It is, again, a matter of presentation and textual salience. In French for instance, if for some reason one is mad and wants to take it out on an inanimate thing, the external construction is the only appropriate choice:
Introduction
(33) il (. . .) revint vers la carriole et lui assena un coup de he (. . .) returned towards the cart and it-dat stroke a blow of pied dans les roues foot in the wheels ‘he (. . .) came back to the cart and gave it a kick in the wheels’ (Duras Un barrage contre le Pacifique 18)
. Conclusion Summing up, we can say that possession is not a primitive linguistic notion. It may be a primitive notion, but in order to be expressed in language it seems to draw on different pre-existing and/or more basic lexico-grammatical structures. The view that possession so to speak borrows its expression from other areas is clearly stated and studied in great detail in Heine (1997), where several such “source schemata’’ are identified, the most widespread of which seem to be the action schema (e.g. have-constructions) and the location schema (e.g. the Russian U menjá kniga ‘By me book — I have a book’). The source schema approach is further illustrated in the present volume by the same author’s description of Kxoe (Central Khoisan, northeast Namibia), where the location schema prevails. One central claim of this source schema approach is that languages tend to favour one such schema at the expense of others. But apart from the fundamental bifurcation into have- and belong-constructions as discussed in 2.1.2 above, it is in fact quite common for languages to have more than one schema, as argued for Danish by Togeby in the present volume. But it is not impossible to decide on such issues and stipulate that Danish is indeed a language whose core possessive construction is the have-variant of Heine’s action schema. Even if possession has many ways of manifesting itself in language, it does not seem impossible to maintain the view expressed in the preceding pages that possession is in crucial and fundamental ways linked to location. The core of the argument in favour of this view is that possession, like location, is a binary, solidaric relation between two entities which only receive their semantic interpretation in virtue of one another, cf. 2.1. Here we return to the parallelism pointed out above in 2.1 between possession, location and experience: in possessive constructions, one can, precisely because of the fundamental solidarity of the two, choose either the Possessor or the Possessum as subject just as in locative and experiential constructions one can choose either
Michael Herslund and Irène Baron
the Location and the Experiencer as subject (The table has some books on it, Jane is afraid of spiders) or the Argument and the Stimulus (The books are on the table, Spiders scare Jane). This explains the fact that possession shares important and obvious features with both location and experience. But it does of course not amount to saying that possession, which remains a very complex and multifaceted notion, can be reduced to location. It is more, but we think that location because of its quite fundamental status as a primitive and very concrete notion is indeed the basic ingredient of possession.
Notes . The construction is actually clearer in Medieval French, where the pronoun y is only used with “full pronominal value’’, i.e. not pleonastically as in Modern French. So it does not occur when a locative is expressed in the same clause: (i) pres de ci a gent close to here has people ‘There is someone nearby’ (La mort le roi Artu, 48.31) . Cf. also Isacˇenko’s (1974: 76) conclusion that have is be + transitivity. . Cf. also in this connection Russian imet’sja ‘have’ + refl as synonymous with existential byt’ ‘be’, Isacˇenko (1974: 60). . Similar phenomena are found in French, cf. Leclère (1993: 7). Compare also the English translations of the examples in (8) and (9). . The primary function of the preposition hos, etymologically from hus ‘house’, seems to be to convert a person into a place, cf. Herslund (1997: 30). . See e.g. the articles by Chappell, Manoliu-Manea and Bavin in Chappell and McGregor (1996), and the comprehensive bibliography on the subject in that volume. . On the use of the dative of the personal clitic pronoun instead of a possessive determiner in Rumanian in general, see Cristea (1974), Popescu-Ramírez and Tasmowski-De Ryck (1988), and Timoc-Bardy (1996).
References Baron, I. 1996a. “Information structure and the anatomy of noun phrases. The expression of subject and object in Danish noun phrases’’. In Content, Expression and Structure: Studies in Danish Functional Grammar [Studies in Language Companion Series 29], E. Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds), 235–259. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins.
Introduction
Baron, I. 1996b. “L’expression du possesseur dans le Syntagme Nominal danois’’. In La relation d’appartenance [Faits de Langues 7], 33–42. Paris: Ophrys. Baron, I. 1997. “Possession in Noun Phrases: A Functional Analysis’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 115–130. Copenhagen Business School. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997a. “The Danish Verb have and the Notion of Possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 131–157. Copenhagen Business School. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997b. “Place and Sub-Place: Locative Specifications in have-Clauses’’. In From Words to Utterances in LSP [Copenhagen Studies in Language 20], D. Faber and F. Sørensen (eds), 5–21. Copenhagen Business School. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1998. “Support Verb Constructions as Predicate Formation’’. In The Structure of the Lexicon in Functional Grammar [Studies in Language Companion Series 43], H. Olbertz, K. Hengeveld and J. Sánchez García (eds), 99–116. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Bartning, I. 1993. “La préposition de et les interprétations possibles des syntagmes nominaux complexes. Essai d’approche cognitive’’. In Les prépositions: méthodes d’analyse [Lexique 11], A.-M. Berthonneau and P. Cadiot (eds), 163–191. Bavin, E. L. 1996. “Body Parts in Acholi: Alienable and Inalienable Distinctions and Extended Uses’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 841–864. Benveniste, E. 1949. “Sur l’emploi des cas en hittite’’. Archiv Orientálni XVII: 44–45. Benveniste, E. 1966a. “’’Etre’’ et “avoir’’ dans leurs fonctions linguistiques’’. In Problèmes de linguistique générale, 176–186. Paris: Gallimard. Benveniste, E. 1966b. “Pour l’analyse des fonctions casuelles: le génitif latin’’. In Problèmes de linguistique générale, 140–148. Paris: Gallimard. Bolkestein, A. M. 1983. “Genitive and Dative Possessors in Latin’’. In Advances in Functional Grammar, S. C. Dik (ed.), 55–91. Dordrecht: Foris. Chappell, H. 1996. “Inalienability and the Personal Domain in Mandarin Chinese Discourse’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 65–109. Chappell, H. and McGregor, W. (eds). 1996. The Grammar of Inalienability. A Typological Perspective on Body Part Terms and the Part-Whole Relation. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Christie, J. J. 1970. “Locative, Possessive and Existential in Swahili’’. Foundations of Language 6: 166–177. Clark, E. V. 1978. “Locationals: Existential, locative and possessive constructions’’. In Universals of Human Language [Vol. 4: Syntax], J. Greenberg (ed.), 85–126. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Cristea, T. 1974. “Remarques sur le datif possessif en roumain et en français’’. Bulletin de la Société Roumaine de Linguistique Romane X: 5–14. Evans, N. 1996. “The Syntax and Semantics of Body Part Incorporation in Mayali’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 65–109. Freeze, R. 1992. “Existentials and other locatives’’. Language 68: 553–95. Guillet, A. and Leclère, C. 1992. La structure des phrases simples en français. Constructions transitives locatives. Geneva-Paris: Droz.
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Heine, B. 1996. “Grammaticalization and language universals’’. In La relation d’appartenance [Faits de langues 7], 11–22. Paris: Ophrys. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive sources, forces and grammaticalization [Cambridge studies in linguistics 83]. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Herslund, M. 1980. Problèmes de syntaxe de l’ancien français. Compléments datifs et génitifs. [Etudes romanes de l’Université de Copenhague 21]. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Herslund, M. 1996. “Partitivité et possession inaliénable’’. In La relation d’appartenance [Faits de Langues 7], 33–42. Paris: Ophrys. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and Inalienable Possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Copenhagen Business School. Isacˇenko, A. V. 1974. “On ‘HAVE’ and ‘BE’ Languages’’. In Slavic Forum. Essays in Linguistics and Literature, M. S. Flier (ed.), 43–77. The Hague-Paris: Mouton. Josefsson, G. 1993. “Noun Incorporating Verbs in Swedish’’. In The Nordlex Project. Lexical Studies in the Scandinavian Languages [LAMBDA 18], M. Herslund and F. Sørensen (eds), 274–304. Copenhagen Business School. Kotschi, T. 1981. “Verbvalenz im Französischen’’. In Beiträge zur Linguistik des Französischen, T. Kotschi (ed.), 80–122. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. König, E. and Haspelmath, M. 1998. “Les constructions à possesseur externe dans les langues d’Europe’’. In Actance et valence dans les langues de l’Europe [Empirical Approaches to Language Typology, Eurotyp 20–2], J. Feuillet (ed.), 525–606. BerlinNew York: Mouton de Gruyter. Leclère, C. 1993. “Classes de constructions directes sans passif ’’. In Sur le passif [Langages 109], G. Gross (ed.), 7–31. Paris: Larousse. Lyons, J. 1967. “A note on possessive, existential and locative sentences’’. Foundations of Language 3: 390–396. Lyons, J. 1968. “Existence, location, possession and transitivity’’. In Logic, methodology and philosophy of science III, B. van Rootselaar and J. F. Staal (eds), 495–504. Amsterdam: North-Holland. Manoliu-Manea, M. 1994. Discourse and Pragmatic Constraints on Grammatical Choices. A Grammar of Surprises [North Holland Linguistic Series 57]. Amsterdam: Elsevier. Manoliu-Manea, M. 1996. “Inalienability and Topicality in Romanian: Pragma-Semantics of Syntax’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 711–743. Mithun, M. 1996. “Multiple Reflections of Inalienability in Mohawk’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 633–649. Nygaard, M. 1906. Norrøn Syntax. Oslo: Aschehoug [19662]. Partridge, M. 1964. Serbo-Croatian. Practical Grammar and Reader. New York, London, Toronto: McGraw-Hill. Popescu-Ramírez, L. and Tasmowski-De Ryck, L. 1988. “Thématicité et possessivité en roumain’’. Lingvisticæ Investigationes 12: 303–335. Seiler, H. 1983a. Possession as an operational dimension of language. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Seiler, H. 1983b. “Possessivity, Subject and Object’’. Studies in Language 7: 89–117. Spanoghe, A.-M. 1995. La syntaxe de l’appartenance inaliénable en français, en espagnol et en portugais. Bern: Peter Lang.
Introduction
Sørensen, F. 1997a. “Possession as Location’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 158–168. Copenhagen Business School. Sørensen, F. 1997b. “The Nightmare of the Genitive’’. In The Valency of Nouns [Odense Working Papers in Language and Communication 15], K. van Durme (ed.), 119–134. Timoc-Bardy, R. 1996. “Appartenance implicite vs appartenance explicite en roumain’’. In La relation d’appartenance [Faits de Langues 7], 241–250. Paris: Ophrys. Velázquez-Castillo, M. 1996. The Grammar of Possession. Inalienability, Incorporation and Possessor Ascension in Guaraní [Studies in Language Companion Series 33]. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Walsh, M. 1996. “Body Parts in Murrinh-Patha: Incorporation, Grammar and Metaphor’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1996: 327–380.
Chapter 1
The operational basis of possession A dimensional approach revisited Hansjakob Seiler
.
Introduction
There has been a considerable thrive in studies on possession within the past few years: No less than three major books (Chappell and McGregor 1996; Taylor 1996; Heine 1997), one specialized monograph (Lehmann 1995), one collection of working papers (Baron and Herslund 1997), and this probably does not exhaust all that would deserve mention. My own publications were earlier but also not few: Seiler 1973a, 1973b, 1982, 1983a, 1983b. What is so fascinating about this topic? I personally think that possession is a domain loaded with paradoxes, and the challenge consists in resolving them — which we shall try in the following pages. Let us point out jut a few of them: 1. When I tell my non-linguistic friends that I am working on possession, the reaction is mostly one of insightful understanding: ‘ownership’, ‘belonging’, ‘appurtenance’ would come to their minds. Not so some linguists, who find it much harder to detect something palpable behind this notion. Some would flatly deny that possession should have grammatical status (Weinrich 1993: 433). Others, unwilling to cope with the extraordinarily wide range of variant expressions try an escape via reductionism: reducing all of possession to a ‘‘deep structural’’ configuration with ‘to have’; reducing ‘‘inalienable’’ possession to a ‘‘deep structural’’ dative; reducing possessive constructions to subvarieties of local, directional, instrumental and comitative expressions (Heine 1997: 76). While it is true that local and other constructions are drawn upon for the purpose of representing possessive relations, it is also true that after completion of such a shift the resulting expressions no longer are purely local etc., but something new, called possession. We want to know what this ‘‘something’’ is. 2. The major distinction within the domain of possession is between “inalienable’’ or inherent, and “alienable’’ or established relation.1 For several
Hansjakob Seiler
statements regarding this distinction a converse or opposite statement may also be true: (a) “Inalienability’’ is the older construction, it is more archaic, it is unmarked. ‘‘Alienability’’ is the younger construction, it is derived, it is marked. There is ample evidence in the data in support of such a statement. Nevertheless, a view to the contrary is also being advanced. One of the arguments would go like this: ‘‘Inalienable’’ possession is attributive, ‘‘alienable’’ possession is predicative. Attributive expressions normally derive from predicative expressions, and not the other way round. (b) One strategy for signalling ‘‘inalienability’’ is to have the Possessor obligatory, i.e. it must be represented, e.g. by pronominal affixation to the Possessum, as in many American Indian languages (Seiler 1983a: 20). The opposite strategy also occurs in suppressing the Possessor and having the definite article instead (Seiler 1983a: 18). (c) Particularly confusing is the situation of case marking, especially genitive and dative: While there is evidence — to be presented later — that the genitive signals the more intimate, and the dative the less intimate relation, there is other evidence pointing to the exact opposite. A resolution of these antinomies cannot come from a one-sidedly categorial and morpho-syntactic approach. A dynamic, processual one must supplement it. To characterize this approach, I should submit the following tenets: 1. Any attempt at defining Possession in purely categorial terms is doomed to failure. 2. Any attempt at categorially delimiting ‘‘inalienable’’ from ‘‘alienable’’ Possession will run into difficulties. 3. In order to understand the workings of Possession it is necessary to consider all possible variant expressions in an integrating view instead of treating some of them, e.g. the ‘‘inalienable’’, separately. 4. Determining the notion of Possession is a matter of universality in language. There is no direct connection — by way of inductive generalization — between the facts of an individual language and universality. Instead, we need a combined inductive–abductive procedure that leads us in a parcours through three levels: (a) a universal level that specifies conceptual Possession in a constructivistic operational manner, (b) an intermediate level of general comparative grammar that specifies the ‘‘menu’’ of morpho-syntactic techniques and categories representing Possession, and (c) the level of each individual language with its particular choice from the techniques provided by the ‘‘menu’’.
The operational basis of possession
In what follows I should propose to follow the “parcours’’ across the three levels. At the end we shall see how this will help us to resolve some of the afore-mentioned puzzles.
. The operational basis of Possession It is assumed here that conceptual Possession is not a once and for ever fixed category, but that it comes about by way of construal in three operations called Distinction, Genesis and Essence.2 This can be visualized by the following schema:
DISTINCTION
EGO “inalien.”
unspeci²c inversion
inherent given –control +contact time-stable
WORLD “alien.”
DISTINCTION
established acquired +control –contact temporary
GENESIS ESSENCE
Figure 1.
The schema can be supplemented by the following definition of Possession: Def. Possession is a relation under permanent construction. It is the EGO’s gradual proactive and retroactive appropriation of the things of the external WORLD. Although no grammatical categories are specified, we are not on extra-linguistic ground: Both the schema and the definition specify the repraesentandum, i.e. that which is to be represented by the means of language, viz. conceptual content and the way it is construed. This, I would hold, is an integrated and substantial part of language activity. The schema and the definition say that Possession is the relation between EGO and the things of the external WORLD. EGO, here, is to be taken in an abstract sense, not confined to 1st person singular, but including human and animate Possessors in general. Now, the relation of Possession can be seen and construed under different perspectives, to which different
Hansjakob Seiler
operations correspond. The first operation consists in drawing a Distinction: between ‘‘inalienable’’ and ‘‘alienable’’. The dynamics of this operation imply a vantage point from which the process radiates in two opposite directions, each toward its ideal maximum. The vantage point itself is neutral or unspecific with regard to the distinction. It is also the point of inversion from more ‘‘inalienable’’ to more ‘‘alienable’’, and vice versa.3 The distinction as such is substantiated by a number of parameters, each with two opposite poles. The parameters are ordered vertically by way of implication: inherent/established → given/acquired → –control/+control → +contact/–contact → time-stable/temporary. It is important to note that the same parameters are operative in specifying distinctions within other dimensions studied earlier, such as Identification, Participation, etc. Once Distinction is established, we need two further operations for construing the relation of Possession: The Genesis line marks the starting point and the dynamic of increasing appropriation. The easiest and therefore most natural starting point is by having the relation inherent in the notions relating to our Self: body part terms, kin terms, ‘‘sphère personnelle’’ (Bally 1926): Possessor inherent in the Possessum. In addition, Possessor is maximally salient: EGO and EGO-like. The arrow of proactivity from left to right takes us via a center of neutrality and inversion toward a maximum of ‘‘alienability’’ (and a minimum of ‘‘inalienability’’) and tells us how things outside the ‘‘sphère personnelle’’ are being appropriated by Self. This is done by stepwise proceeding toward more distanciated relations. It takes us to such notions as ‘acquiring’, ‘ownership’ and ‘belonging’, representing the Essence of Possession. But even a maximally established and aquired and controlled Possessum must always be related back to the Possessor, viz. to EGO. Therefore, the retroactive Essence line from right to left symbolizes the reversed perspective taking us back to the starting point. Now, the claim is that all of this is not invented, but is reflected in the linguistic data, as we shall see when getting to the respective levels. Specifically it will help us to correctly account for these data. For example, we can tell why an expression like Mary left a fortune to Peter is not a possessive expression: It entails Possession, but Possessum (fortune) does not relate back to EGO (Mary). We have an ordinary transitive verb with a direct and an indirect object. We can also tell what a verb of Possession would look like: take, grasp, seize would eventually qualify, but not give ; buy might qualify, but not sell. In sum, a verb of Possession may be transitive, but it
The operational basis of possession
must in the first place refer to the mode of relationship between the two relata, viz. EGO and the thing appropriated. For the same reason, part-whole relations among inanimates, e.g. a table has four legs, are not possessive in spite of the numerous similarities on the morpho-syntactic level. There is no EGO among inanimates. The schema with the two converse arrows equally extending over the entire range of the Dimension tells us that ‘‘inalienability’’ and ‘‘alienability’’ can be distinguished but not separated: They are co-active throughout, albeit at different ratios: the more ‘‘alienability’’, the less ‘‘inalienability’’, and viceversa. And with this the schema also tells us that between the extremes there must be an area where the two opposite forces are about equally strong, thereby neutralizing each other. It is a transition area, unspecific with regard to the major distinction. This shows up on the level of General Comparative Grammar, where it appears that within this area one and the same expression, e.g. a genitive or a dative, may either represent intimate or acquired Possession according to context.
. Ordering in General Comparative Grammar Figure 2 visualizes the ‘‘menu’’ of morpho-syntactic ‘‘techniques’’ and categories brought into play for the purpose of representing relations of Possession. The ordering as determined by the conceptual level is in continuous fashion of increasing vs. decreasing explicitness in the representation of the possessive relation. It can be read off from the symbols on the top line. loc dir N N—Nconn.N—Nclass.N—NcaseN—NcomitN—NexistN—NVN def topic Unspeci²c area of inversion Relation established, predicative
Relation inherent, indicative
Figure 2.
NN symbolizes juxtaposition of two nominals, as e.g. in Classical Arabic.
Hansjakob Seiler
Nconn.N stands for a connector between the two nouns, as e.g., the ezafe in Modern Persian, or the linker as a prominent feature in many Austronesian languages. Nclass.N symbolizes classifiers in possession, a technique found in Oceanic languages and in languages of the Americas. The technique is more explicit as compared to the preceding one: The classifier not only connects between the two nouns but adds classificatory information about the relation as such or about the Possessor or the Possessum. NcaseN. Here we enter the area of non-specificity with regard to a clear distinction between ‘‘inalienability’’ and ‘‘alienability’’. The genitive is the prototypical representative of this technique; to a lesser degree also the dative and the instrumental. But all these cases contract a twofold relationship: between noun and noun, and between these and a verb, thereby adding further information about the possessive relation. N:N represents a multiple choice situation, which is typical for non-specificity in transition. Here, the possessive relation could be represented as if it were a relation of location: ‘the house near me’, or of directionality: ‘a cousin to me’, or of accompaniment: ‘the man with the hat’, etc. Note that the extreme techniques in the continuum do not exhibit multiple choice, or only rarely so. NexistN stands for auxiliaries (‘be’, ‘have’) mediating between the two nouns. NVN. Full verbs offer a maximum of differentiable information about the possessive relation. The schema is open for insertion of further techniques as they may be found in the languages of the world, e.g. possessive pronouns, possessive adjectives (Slavic, Ancient Greek), possessive compounds (bahuvrihis), etc. In the following I shall confine myself to discussing two strategic areas of this continuum, especially in the light of my now more consistent three-level approach: Genitive/Dative as representatives of the transition area, and verbs of possession. From Roman Jakobson’s pioneering interpretation (1936/71: 37ff.) we learn that the genitive focuses upon the extent to which the entity takes part in the message, by implying that the extent is not total. This means that the genitive is open for interpretations that convey either intimacy or, on the contrary, distance or separation of a relation (cf. our paradox (c) above). In the adnominal uses the genitive is not specialized for signalling Possession. What it does signal is mere Appurtenance. In the destruction of the city (by
The operational basis of possession
the enemy) it simply transposes the verbal clause (the enemy) destroyed the city into a nominal syntagm (Benveniste 1962/66: 150). Regarding the two varieties of genitive in English, viz. the inflectional vs. the prepositional, it has been remarked (Anschutz 1997: 31) that the inflectional is restricted to use with animate Possessors where Possessor is old information before Possessum new information: the President’s daughter. The prepositional construction is chosen where the Possessum is old information before the Possessor as new information: . . . he was the father of Mrs. Needler. . . This can be accounted for with reference to our conceptual level where the inflectional construction is in principle ‘‘more inalienable’’ and the starting point of the operation is the Possessor, who is thus ordered before the Possessum, whereas the prepositional construction is ‘‘more alienable’’ and the starting point is the Possessum, ordered accordingly before the Possessor. The category genitive in English thus includes a variant ‘‘more inalienable’’ and a variant ‘‘more alienable’’. A further peculiarity of the genitive in English and in many other languages exhibiting genitives is its openness to an almost infinite number of possible interpretations (Seiler 1973a: 199 f.). Thus Peter’s house, beside its most current acceptation as ‘house which Peter owns’ may be interpreted, according to context, as: ‘house where Peter lives or used to live’, ‘house Peter is always talking about’, ‘house which Peter likes’, etc. The important observation to be made here is that verbs are always involved in these interpretations. They are not actually asserted but evoked. I suggested (Seiler loc.cit.) that, to the extent that a relation between a genitive and such verbs becomes operative for the interpretation of the utterance, the phenomenon is rather one of transposition, as in the above, and marginal in the domain of Possession. Now, the dative. On the one hand, it may signal less intimate Possession as compared to the genitive. Consider the examples of Latin: (1) a.
liber est Marc-i book cop Mark-gen ‘The book belongs to Mark’ b. liber est Marc-o book cop Mark-dat ‘Mark has a/the book’
On the other hand we have the dative acting as a marked means for expressing inherence (Seiler 1983a: 43f.). Consider the examples of German and French as against English:
Hansjakob Seiler
(2) a.
Ich habe mir das Bein gebrochen Je me suis cassé la jambe ‘I broke my leg’ ? b. Ich habe mein Bein gebrochen ?J’ai cassé ma jambe
The utterances in (2b) have a dubious status in both German and French. A possible interpretation might imply that some leg which is not part of the speaker’s own body is being talked about. The contrast is implemented by a combination of dative plus personal or reflexive pronoun plus definite article plus a verb indicating action upon Self on the one hand, and possessive pronoun plus noun on the other. In the context given, the latter exhibits an ‘‘alienating’’ force, referring to a non-body part, while the former is clearly ‘‘inalienating’’. The corresponding English version is neutral in this respect. It is important to see that the dative in these constructions contracts a twofold relationship viz. one of inherent Possession vis-à-vis the other noun, and one with the verb which indicates that the agent is at the same time the experiencer. To sum up, we see the genitive and the dative in functions, which, according to context, can be either ‘‘more inalienable’’ or ‘‘more alienable’’ or neutral with regard to both. This can be accounted for with reference to the position which case marking occupies within the overall dimension of Possession: An area of unspecificity and of inversion, with increasing intrusion of verbs into the relation between the Possessor and the Possessum. Next, a bird’s eye view on verbs of Possession, and this time a diachronic one. We are still on the level of General Comparative Grammar. Our conceptual schema plus definition tells us that the EGO’s proactive moves strive at appropriating more and more things of the external world, and that to each proactive move there is a corresponding retroactive one relating these things back to EGO. Specifically, at a certain maximum of proactivity there must be a reversal into retroactivity. Our Comparative Grammar schema tells us that, corresponding to maximal proactivity there is a maximum of explicitness in the representation of the possessive relation, and that this is best represented by verbs exhibiting a maximum of structural information, ideally by transitive verbs. However, in the interest of retroactivity, transitivity may not come to its full bloom and must be turned back to stativity and reflexivity. These processes are mirrored in historical changes. We know of the development of a verb of existence plus dative into a pseudo-transitive verb ‘to have’ plus accusative: Older Latin mihi est domus > Later Latin habeo domum
The operational basis of possession
‘I have a house’: A proactive move. The following etymological connections testify to the inverse, the retroactive move: Gothic hafjan ‘seize’ and its Latin cognate capio ‘seize’ vs. Old High German habe¯n ‘to have’, a stativizing derivative in -e¯- indicating the state of the subject. The same development may be inferred from a comparison of Old Slavic ime¯ti ‘to have’ vs. je˛ti ‘to take’ and Latin emo ‘to buy’, or Lithuanian ture¯ti ‘to have’ vs. tverti ‘to take’, again derivatives in -e¯- with stativizing and detransitivizing value. Other means of expression achieving the same effect are: preterito-present forms as in Gothic aigan/aih ‘possess, own’, or, middle voice formations as in Sanskrit ı¯se ‘to be master, control’, where possessing affects not the object but the subject. Summing up this survey of Possession in General Comparative Grammar it appears that the morpho-syntactic techniques of representing the possessive relation can be ordered in continuous fashion from inherent to establishing, and that such categories as connective, classifier, case, location et al., and finally verb have a prominent role within these techniques. In short, we are presented with the menu from which the individual languages exhibit their proper selection.
. The level of individual languages Turning now to the grammars of individual languages, we must assess their extraordinary plasticity and deformation potential with regard to the menu provided by General Comparative Grammar: Some languages lack connectives, others lack classifieres, still others lack case, etc. There may be gaps, syncretisms, or overextensions. What then about our dimensional approach? We predict that while the categorial and morpho-syntactic look may vary from one language to another, the operational program for representing Possession as delineated on the conceptual level remains the same everywhere. The evidence, here again, can be found in the possible continuous orderings of expression means. I shall exemplify this in more detail with material from one particular language: Cahuilla, an American Indian language of the Takic branch of Nothern Uto-Aztecan, spoken in Southern California, which I have described in detail. In a special study (Seiler 1982: 185f.) I examined kinship expressions featuring two pronominal elements, one for the Possessor, the other being coreferent with the Possessum, the kin term: Translation equivalents of such English expressions as ‘she is my niece’, ‘I am her niece’, etc. There are altogether seven combinations possible. From the point of view of English, all
Hansjakob Seiler
these combinations seem to be parallel. Not so for Cahuilla, where they must be distributed over two gradient scales, and the relation between the scales is not one of parallelism but one of inversion. The reason for this is presented by two widely differing types of expression distributed over two scales in a manner to be described presently. The two types are: (3) a.
’et-ne-nési thou-my-niece ‘Thou (art) my niece’ b. Ø-Ø-nési she-her-niece ‘She (is) her niece’
(4) a.
pe-y-nési-k(a)t obj: 3sg-subj: 3sg-niece-orient.dir her-she-niece-toward’ ‘She is her aunt’, lit.: ‘She is one who is (in a relation) toward her, the niece’ b. pe-y-hénes-ka(t) obj: 3sg-subj: 3sg-aunt-orient.dir ‘She is her niece’, lit.: ‘She is one who is (in a relation) toward her, the aunt’
Note that both types are predicative, sentence-generating; that is the way kin relations are represented throughout. Example (3a) exhibits the kin term ‘niece’ obligatorily preceded by a subject and a possessive prefix, which may both be zero in third person, (3b). This is the unmarked, the inherent type. In (4a) we have the same kin term, but now preceded by an object plus a subject prefix and followed by a suffix specifying directionality. The literal translation would be ‘She is one who is (in relation) toward her, the niece’, which amounts to saying ‘She is her aunt’. This is clearly a marked expression that establishes a relationship by showing that it has a point of departure (the subject, ‘she’) and a goal (the object, ‘her’), coreferential with the kin term ‘niece’, toward which the relation extends. It starts ‘‘from the other end’’, as it were, i.e. from the pronoun referring to the reciprocal kin term ‘aunt’. There have been cultural reasons for using such a distanciating expression, viz. when the kin, the ‘aunt’, is no longer living and you are not supposed to refer to her directly. In order to construct an establishing expression corresponding to the inherent (3b) ‘She is her niece’, one would have to start from the reciprocal term ‘aunt’, as in (4b).
The operational basis of possession
What is of particular interest in connection with our dimensional–operational approach to Possession is the ways speakers choose among the two types of expression, and this is tabulated in Figure 3. Possessor
Possessum
my
1
3
she
my
1
2
thou
thy
2
3
she
her 3
3
she
Expression type Possessor Almost excl. inherent Mostly inherent Preferably inherent Inherent or establishing
Possessum
her 3
1
I
thy
2
1
I
her 3
2
thou
Expression type Only establishing Mostly establishing Preferably establishing
Figure 3.
The meaning of the combination can be read off by going from right to left, e.g. first line left side ‘She is my niece’. Person is additionally symbolized by number in a circle to make the distance between them more salient. The informants either volunteered or accepted or rejected an expression type for a given combination. We see from the chart that exclusive or near-exclusive use of one vs. the other type coincides with the maximal distance between the persons (2 digits). We find a scale of decreasing exclusivity or increasing tolerance for the other of the two types as the distance between the persons becomes smaller. When both are third person, both types are acceptable — as in our examples (3) and (4). The following generalizations can be derived from what has just been outlined: The constraints in the choice of one or the other expression type are correlated with a scale or hierarchy of proximity with regard to the speaker. The direct, unmarked type is chosen when the person of the Possessor is nearer to EGO, i.e. to the speaker, than the person of the Possessum. This is the natural, the expected instance. It has to be chosen when the Possessor is identical with the speaker, i.e. 1st person. The inverse type is chosen when the person of the Possessum is nearer to the speaker than the person of the Possessor. It has to be chosen when the Possessum is identical with the speaker. When both persons are third, Cahuilla has the choice of presenting either the Possessor or the Possessum as being nearer to him and of respectively distanciating either the Possessum or the Possessor. This choice is exploited for the cultural purpose of obviating a deceased relative. What we have here is a typical area of inversion. The distributional schema of
Hansjakob Seiler
the two expression types reflects the functional-operational schema on the conceptual level with its two converse operations and with an area of inversion — in other words: It reflects what speakers do. The lesson to be learned from this description is this: Even though it is widely claimed that kin expressions are ‘‘inalienable’’ and that ‘‘inalienable’’ expressions are always attributive, this need not be so. With language you can always do ‘‘as if ’’: You can represent a kin relation that is expected to be inherent, ‘‘inalienable’’, “as if ’’ it were non-inherent, established, more ‘‘alienable’’; and both expressions are predicative.
. Conclusion Let us look back at some of our paradoxes: (1) The layman and the linguist: The layman who readily associates Possession with ‘ownership’, ‘belonging’, etc. has a point there in that these may in fact represent the essence of Possession. His view is simply incomplete as he overlooks inherent relations. — The professional linguist who claims that possessive expressions are not originally possessive but rather derived from locative, instrumental, directional expressions has a point as far as our ‘‘unspecific area’’ goes. He would have to be contradicted when claiming that this holds for the entire span of possessive expressions. Possession is an original relation that spans between the poles of ‘‘inalienability’’ and ‘‘alienability’’ with an ‘‘unspecific area’’ of inversion in transition. (2) ‘‘Inalienability’’ the older, ‘‘alienability’’ the younger construction — or the opposite: The overwhelming evidence crosslinguistically is in favour of the first alternative. Yet, since our conceptual scheme exhibits a mental movement in the reverse, i.e. from Essence back to EGO, some individual languages may proceed accordingly and derive ‘‘inalienables’’ from ‘‘alienables’’. A clear example has been pointed out by Heine (1997: 183) for Melanesian Pidgin English, where the English possessive verb belong is used as a marker for ‘‘inalienable’’ Possession: papa bilong papa bilong me ‘father of father of me’ = ‘my grandfather’. (3) The apparently contradictory use of case marking, especially genitive and dative, with regard to ‘‘inalienability’’ vs. ‘‘alienability’’ is accounted for by assigning these to the unspecific area of inversion. Let us also evaluate some of our tenets. (1) Defining Possession and delimiting ‘‘alienables’’ from ‘‘inalienables’’: Categorial morpho-syntactic and lexical evidence may lend itself to certain cross-linguistic generalizations, but
The operational basis of possession
they would never add up to anything truly universal. This is the reason why no workable definition of Possession has been put forward in the literature — with the exception of a first instalment by this writer (Seiler 1983a: 4ff.) For the same reason no clearcut delimitation of ‘‘inalienability’’ from ‘‘alienability’’ has been proposed. In categorial terms this is simply not possible. We have suggested instead that on a conceptual level it is possible to distinguish between them in operational terms. (2) All possible variant expressions of Possession: We have seen how intimately ‘‘inalienability’’, ‘‘inversion area’’, and ‘‘alienability’’ are intertertwined in their language-specific realizations. Only an integrated view of the entire spectrum of linguistic manifestations of Possession will permit us to recognize the dynamics behind them and thus to understand the conceptual content and its processual construction. (3) Our three-level approach: The universal, the general, the individual. Of the three, the universal and the individual are on-line in the sense that in an individual language we find the same programs operative as on the level of conceptuality. The intermediate level of General Comparative Grammar is off-line in the sense that it represents the ‘‘menu’’ making available a maximum of techniques and grammatical categories from which each individual language exhibits a proper choice. Only by an attempt to disentangle the three levels that are mixed in each individual language can we hope to arrive at a true understanding of the workings of Possession.
Notes . Some remarks concerning presentation and terminology are in order here; Possession is a relation between an entity called the Possessor and another entity called the Possessum. Relational terms and relata are marked with capital letters when a level of conceptuality is under discussion. The relation of Possession appears in two basic varieties: ‘‘inalienable’’, symbolized as (X) Father = ‘father of X’, and ‘‘alienable’’, symbolized as (X) R (Y) = ‘X possesses Y’. The traditional terminology is misleading: ‘‘Alienability’’ in the sense of separability is at best a concomitant property of the relation. What really matters is whether the relation is inherently given in one of the entities, viz. in the Possessum: Father is inherently and necessarily someone’s father; or whether the relation is not inherently given and therefore has to be established by special means, viz. a relator R as a ‘‘third’’ between the two relata. The correct terms would thus be inherent vs. established Possession. For ease of presentation I shall maintain the traditional terms, but I shall put them in quotation marks. . The detailed specification of this level with its constructivistic and operational aspects is an outgrowth of my renewed inquiries into the entire problem complex of Possession.
Hansjakob Seiler
. While constructing this schema I have profited from discussions with Jürgen Broschart and his interactional model (Broschart 1997: 83ff.)
References Anschutz, A. 1997. ‘‘How to choose a possessive noun phrase construction in four easy steps’’. Studies in Language 21: 1–35. Bally, C. 1926. “L’expression des idées de la sphère personnelle et de solidarité dans les langues indo-européennes’’. In Festschrift Louis Gauchat, F. Frankhauser and J. Jud (eds), 68–78. Arau: Sauerländer. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. (eds). 1997. Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3]. Copenhagen Business School. Benveniste, E. 1962/6. ‘‘Pour l’analyse des fonctions casuelles: le génitif latin.’’ Lingua 11: 10–18 [=Problèmes de Linguistique Générale I. 140–150]. Paris: Gallimard. Broschart, J. 1997. ‘‘On turning language into vision. Towards a geometry of interaction.’’ In Proceedings from the Workshop on Representation between Vision and Natural Language Processing. Budapest: European Conference on Artificial Intelligence 1996. Chappell, H. and McGregor, W. (eds). 1996. The Grammar of Inalienability. A typological perspective on body part terms and the part-whole relation [Empirical Approaches to Language Typology 14]. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jakobson, R. 1936/71. ‘‘Beitrag zur allgemeinen Kasuslehre.’’ In Selected Writings, Vol. II: Word and Language, 130–147. The Hague: Mouton. Lehmann, C. 1996. Possession in Yucatec Maya. Munich: Lincom Europa. Seiler, H. 1973a. ‘‘Zum Problem der sprachlichen Possessivität.’’ Folia Linguistica VI: 231–250. Seiler, H. 1973b. “On the semanto-syntactic configuration ‘Possessor of an Act’’’. In Issues in Linguistics. Papers in Honor of Henry and Renée Kahane, B. Kachru et al. (eds), 836–853. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Seiler, H. 1982. ‘‘Inherent vs. established relation, proximity vs. obviation, and two types of Cahuilla kinship expression.’’ IJAL 48: 186–196. Seiler, H. 1983a. Possession as an Operational Dimension of Language [Language Universals Series, vol. 2]. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Seiler, H. 1983b. ‘‘Possessivity, subject and object.’’ Studies in Language 7: 89–118. Taylor, J. R. 1996. Possessives in English. An Exploration in Cognitive Grammar. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Weinrich, H. 1993. Textgrammatik der deutschen Sprache. Mannheim: Duden Verlag.
Chapter 2
The concept of possession in Danish grammar Ole Togeby
.
The expression of the concept of possession in texts
It is my intention to investigate how possession is expressed in the grammatical system of Danish as a whole. Single constructed examples such as (1) mandens hat ‘the man’s hat’
are not enough to demonstrate that possession is a grammaticized feature in Danish. In order to show the typological characteristics of Danish with respect to the expression of the concept of possession it is necessary to study both how possession is typically and frequently expressed and what the prototypical meaning of the grammatical forms is. As a starting point I will show in how many ways the concept of possession is expressed in a Danish text. The text is the beginning of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale The tinder box. I quote it in two columns, the Danish original in the left column, and the English translation in the right. The translation is taken from Fairy Tales. Transl. by Jean Hersholt, Heritage Press, New York 1949. In the left column I have underlined the words by which some sort of possession is expressed. In the following section all examples are authentic sentences or phrases from a corpus consisting of 30 small texts of different types. 1/ Fyrtøiet 2/ Der kom en Soldat marcherende henad Landevejen: 3/Een, To! 4/Een, To! 5/ han havde sin tornister paa Ryggen og en Sabel ved siden, 6/ for han havde været i Krigen, 7/ og nu skulde han hjem. 8/ Saa mødte han en gammel Hex paa Landeveien; 9/ hun var saa ækel, 10/ hendes Underlæbe hang hende lige ned paa Brystet. 11/ Hun sagde: 12/ ‘‘god Aften, Soldat! 13/ hvor du har en pæn
The tinder box There came a soldier marching down the high road — one, two! one, two! He had his knapsack on his back and his sword at his side as he came home from the wars. On the road he met a witch, an ugly old witch, a witch whose lower lip dangled right down on her chest. “Good evening, soldier,’’ she said. “What a fine sword you’ve got there, and what a big
Ole Togeby
Sabel og en stor Tornister, 14/ du er en rigtig Soldat! 15/ Nu skal du faae saa mange Penge, du vil eie!’’ 16/ ‘‘Tak skal du have, din gamle Hex!’’ 17/ sagde Soldaten. 18/ ‘‘Kan du se det store Træ?’’ 19/ sagde Hexen, og pegede paa det Træ, der stod ved Siden af dem. 20/ ‘‘Det er ganske huult indeni! 21/ Der skal du krybe op i Toppen, 22/ saa seer du et Hul, som du kan lade Dig glide igjennem og komme dybt i Træet! 23/ Jeg skal binde Dig en Strikke om Livet, for at jeg kan heise Dig op igjen, naar du raaber paa mig!’’ 24/ ‘‘Hvad skal jeg saa nede i træet’’ 25/ spurgte Soldaten. 26/ ‘‘Hente Penge!’’ 27/ sagde Hexen, 28/ ‘‘du skal vide, naar du kommer ned paa Bunden af Træet, saa er du i en stor Gang, 29/ der er ganske lyst, 30/ for der brænder over hundrede Lamper. 31/ Saa ser du tre Døre, 32/ du kan lukke dem op, 33/ Nøglen sidder i. 34/ Gaar du ind i det første Kammer, da ser du midt paa Gulvet en stor Kiste, 35/ oven paa den sidder en Hund; 36/ han har et par Øine saa store som et Par Theekopper, 37/ men det skal du ikke bryde dig om! 38/ Jeg giver dig mit blaaternede Forklæde, 39/ det kan du brede ud paa gulvet; 40/ gaa saa rask hen og tag Hunden, 41/ sæt ham paa mit Forklæde, 42/ luk Kisten op og 43/ tag ligesaa mange Skillinger, du vil. 44/ De ere alle sammen af Kobber; 45/ men vil du hellere have Sølv, saa skal du gaa ind i det næste Værelse; 46/ men der sidder en Hund, der har et par Øine, saa store som et Par Møllehjul; 47/ men det skal du ikke bryde dig om, 48/ sæt ham paa mit Forklæde og 49/ tag du af Pengene! 50/ Vil du derimod have Guld, det kan du ogsaa faae, og det saa meget, du vil bære, naar du gaar ind i det tredie Kammer. 5 1 / Me n Hun de n , s o m s i dde r pa a Pengekisten her, han har to Øine, hvert saa stort som Rundetaarn. 52/ Det er en rigtig Hund, kan du troe! 53/ men det skal du ikke bryde Dig Noget om! 54/ sæt ham bare
knapsack. Aren’t you every inch a soldier! And now you shall have money, as much as you please.’’ “That’s very kind, you old witch,’’ said the soldier. “See that big tree.’’ The witch pointed to one near by them. ’’It’s hollow to the roots. Climb to the top of the trunk and you’ll find a hole through which you can let yourself down deep under the tree. I’ll tie a rope around your middle, so that when you call me I can pull you up again.’’
“What would I do deep down under that tree’’’ the soldier wanted to know. “Fetch money,’’ the witch said. “Listen. When you touch bottom you’ll find yourself in a great hall. It is very bright there, because more than a hundred lamps are burning. By their light you will see three doors. Each door has a key in it, so you can open them all. “If you walk into the first room, you’ll see a large chest in the middle of the floor. On it sits a dog, and his eyes are as big as saucers. But don’t worry about that. I’ll give you my blue checked apron to spread out on the floor. Snatch up that dog and set him on my apron. Then you can open the chest and take out as many pieces of money as you please. They are all copper. “But if silver suits you better, then go into the next room. There sits a dog and his eyes are as big as mill wheels. But don’t you care about that. Set the dog on my apron while you line your pockets with silver. “Maybe you’d rather have gold. You can, you know. You can have all the gold you can carry if you go into the third room. The only hitch is that there on the money-chest sits a dog, and each of his eyes is as big as the Round Tower of Copenhagen. That’s the sort of dog he is. But never you mind how fierce he looks. Just set him on my apron and he’ll do you no harm as you help yourself from the chest to all the gold you want.’’
Possession in Danish grammar
paa mit Forklæde, 55/ saa gjør han Dig ikke Noget, 56/ og tag du af Kisten saa meget Guld, du vil!’’ 57/ ‘‘Det var ikke saa galt!’’ 58/ sagde Soldaten.59/ ‘‘Men hvad skal jeg give Dig, din gamle Hex? 60/ For noget vil du vel have med, 61/ kan jeg tænke!’’ 62/ ‘‘Nei,’’ 63/ sagde Hexen, 62/ ‘‘ikke en eneste Skilling vil jeg have! 64/ du skal bare tage til mig et gammelt Fyrtøi, 65/ som min Bedstemoder glemte, da hun sidst var dernede!’’
“That suits me,’’ said the soldier. “But what do you get out of all this, you old witch? I suppose that you want your share.’’ “No indeed,’’ said the witch. “I don’t want a penny of it. All I ask is for you to fetch me an old tinder box that my grandmother forgot the last time she was down there.’’
The concept of possession — in a wide sense of the word — is expressed in the following ways in the Danish text: a. Genitive (possessive pronoun): 5/ sin tornister, 10/ hendes underlæbe, 38/ mit blaaternede Forklæde, b. Definite form: 5/ paa Ryggen, 19/ paa Brystet, 33/ Nøglen, 34/ Gulvet, c. Prepositional phrase: 28/ Bunden af træet, 54/ (tag Du) af Kisten saa meget Guld Du vil, 64/ tage til mig et gammelt Fyrtøi, d. Indirect object: 38/ Jeg giver dig mit blaaternede Forklæde, 59/ hvad skal jeg give Dig, e. So called ethical dative + preposition + definite form, primarily about body parts and clothing: 10/ hang hende lige ned paa Brystet, 23/ jeg skal binde dig en Strikke om Livet, f. Verbs: 5/ han havde sin Tornister, 13/ hvor Du har en pæn Sabel, 15/ faa saa mange Penge, Du vil eie, 26/ Hente Penge, 38/ jeg giver dig mit blaaternede Forklæde, 40/ tag Hunden, 41/ sæt ham paa mit Forklæde. From the examples above it is obvious that possession is not expressed by one grammatical form in Danish. On the contrary possession is expressed in many grammatical forms, and there is no immediate connection between the different forms of expression. In the following paragraphs of this paper I will discuss the meaning of the forms mentioned above. Do these grammatical forms have possession as their typical meaning or their core meaning, or do they have other general meanings of which possession is a subpart?
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. The genitive In Danish the genitive does not only, and not primarily express possession; the genitive expresses meronymy (part of a whole), location, control, subjecthood, and effect, and possession is only one subpart of one of them, viz. of control. A. Meronymy: 1. part of a period: krigens næste fase ‘the next phase of the war’, 2. property of the thing: ædecellens overflade ‘the surface of the eater cell’, husets farve ‘the colour of the house’, ordenes betydning ‘the meaning of the words’, 4. part of the body or clothes: hendes underlæbe ‘her lower lip’, i vores krop ‘in our body’, 5. entities in the territory: hovedstadens gader ‘the streets of the capital’, Afrikas rovdyr ‘the carnivores of Africa’. B. Location (in space, time and mental space): fremtidens lærer ‘the teacher of the future’, denne lovs bestemmelser ‘the provisions of this law’. C. Control: 1. the controllable things of the controller: Iraks masseødelæggelsesvåben ‘Iraq’s mass destruction weapons’, 2. the property of the owner: sin bolig ‘his residence’, 3. the subordinate of the superior: Eikstedts dragoner ‘Eikstedt’s dragoons’, ypperstepræsternes tempelvagter ‘the high priests’ temple guards’. D. Subjecthood (subjective genitive): 1. the actor’s act or activity: deres embedsførelse ‘the discharge of their office’, komiteens møder ‘the meetings of the committee’, Jørgen Grys forsvar for materialismen ‘Jørgen Gry’s defence of materialism’, statens ydelse til kongen ‘the payment to the king from the state’, 2. the process or state of the entity: sagens forløb ‘the progress of the case’, verdens begyndelse ‘the beginning of the world’, verdens tilblivelse ‘the origin of the world’, stemplernes bevægelse op og ned ‘the movement up and down of the stamps’, diktatorens fald ‘the fall of the dictator’, 3. the attribute of the carrier (adjectival noun): deres elendighed ‘their misery’, deres ansvarlighed ‘their responsibility’, kongens umyndighed eller sygdom ‘the King’s minority or illness’, forehavendets umulighed ‘the impossibility of the project’. E. Effect: 1. Of a resultative verbal noun: jordens frugter og dyr ‘the fruits and animals of the earth’, min egen retorik ‘my own rhetoric’, Snorres fortælling ‘Snorre’s tale’, gedens mælk ‘the milk of the goat’, FN’s beslutninger ‘the resolutions of UN’, kongens underskrift ‘the king’s signature’, 2. The relator of the relatum (relational nouns): sine disciple ‘his disciples’, hans fader ‘his father’, deres undersåtter ‘their subjects’, dyrenes konge ‘the king of the animals’, hans kone og hans to små drenge ‘his wife and his two little boys’, husets ejer ‘the owner of the house’, 3. the processing of the object (objec-
Possession in Danish grammar
tive genitive): kongens befrielse ‘the liberation of the king’, ministeriets afsked ‘the dismissal of the ministry’, forretningernes fordeling ‘the allocation of the tasks’, verdens skabelse ‘the creation of the world’, ved købets afslutning ‘the closing of the purchase’, regeringens førelse ‘the management of the government’. Langacker (1991: 338–9) has described the general meaning of the genitive in this way: … the linguistic category of possession has an abstract basis (i.e., a schematic characterization applicable to all class members) with respect to which ownership, part/whole, and kinship relations constitute special, prototypical cases. What all possessives share, I believe, is that one entity (the ‘‘possessor’’) is used as a reference point (R) for purposes af establishing mental contact with another, the target (T). The reason that ownership, part/whole, and kinship relations are prototypical for possessives is that they in particular are central to our experience and lend themselves very well to this reference-point function. [. . .] I suggest that all possessives involve this reference-point function. [. . .] However, certain possessive uses show very little vestige of such notions [possession, part/whole, kinship — OT], in which case the reference-point relationship becomes salient by comparison and may assume the status of relational profile.
Following Langacker the core meaning of the genitive is not possession, but reference-point.
. Definite form From the translation it is seen that the definite form in Danish is equivalent to the genitive in English: 2/ Der kom en Soldat marcherende henad Landeveien (. . .) 5/ han havde sin Tornister paa Ryggen og en Sabel ved Siden ‘There came a soldier marching down the high road (. . .) He had his knapsack on the back and his sword at the side’ is translated into (. . .) He had his knapsack on his back and his sword at his side. When there is a metonymic relation between a known entity and the entity to be profiled in a sentence, it is sufficient to refer to the antecedent by the definite form of the new entity. The back and the side has a meronymic relation to a person, and consequently the definite forms Ryggen and Siden refer back to the antecedent Soldat, who is a person. These anaphoric references all depend on metonymic relations: A. Meronymy: han havde sin Tornister paa Ryggen og en Sabel ved Siden,
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lodderne (på vægten i konsultationsværelset) ‘the weights on the scales in the consultation room’. B. Location: der kom en soldat marcherende henad Landeveien ‘there came a soldier marching down the high road’ , (karlene oppe fra) Herregården ‘the grooms from the manor’, (lodderne på) vægten (i konsultationsværelset) ‘the lots on the scales in the consultation room’. C. Control: karlene (oppe fra Herregården) ‘the grooms from the manor’, (lodderne på vægten i) konsultationsværelset ‘the lots on the scales in the consultation room’. D. Affectedness: mens Ymer endnu lå småslumrende, sprang sveden ud af ham over hele kroppen ‘while Ymer was stil slumbering, the sweat gushed out of him, all over the body’. The definite form, exactly as the genitive, has the reference-point relationship as its only general meaning.
. Prepositional phrases The same holds for prepositional phrases; they do not only or primarily express possession, but rather meronymy, location, control and effect or affectedness. A. Meronymy: alle andre arter i kattefamilien ‘all other species of the cat family’, ikke så mange elever i klasserne ‘not so many pupils in the classes’. B. Location: fiskene i vandet ‘the fish in the water’, dyrene i skoven ‘the animals in the forrest’, på bunden af træet ‘at the bottom of the tree’, bladene faldt af træerne ‘the leaves fell off the trees’. C. Control: biskop i Viborg ‘bishop of Viborg’, regent i andre lande ‘sovereign in other countries’, de nationale regnskabstjenester i medlemsstaterne ‘the national accounts departments in the member states’, den udøvende magt er hos kongen ‘the executive power is with the king’. D. Subjecthood: krav fra hans klient ‘his client’s demands’, en barsk barndom for Hanne ‘a harsh childhood for Hanne’, fornyet håb for desertører ‘renewed hope for deserters’, det sproglige indhold af reguleringsklausulen ‘the linguistic content of the Clause of regulation’, Årsrapport fra komiteen (til udarbejdelse af BNI) ‘Annual report from the committee for calculation of the GNI’. E. Affectedness: navnet på et fængsel ‘the name of a prison’, (Årsrapport fra) komiteen til udarbejdelse af BNI ‘Annual report from the committee for calculation of the GNI’, (Årsrapport fra komiteen til) udarbejdelse af BNI
Possession in Danish grammar
‘Annual report from the committee for elaboration of the GNI’, Bestemmelser angående regeringens førelse ‘resolutions concerning the management of the government’, indehaveren af møbelforretningen ‘the proprietor of the furniture shop’. F. Accompaniment and companionship: med and uden + verbal noun: uden folketingets samtykke ‘without the consent of the parliament’, Datter skal lære at leve uden mor ‘A daughter must learn to live without a mother’, gammel idiot med skæg, hvid kåbe og en palmekvist i hånden ‘old idiot with beard, white cloak and a palm twig in the hand’. The meaning of prepositions in general is explained in the following way (Taylor 1995: 110): ‘‘Prepositions, in their spatial sense, serve to locate spatially one entity with reference to another. This definition can be generalized to all occurrences of prepositions.’’ The general meaning of a preposition is, like the general meaning of the genitive, to give a reference point through which some item of information is accessible to the mind.
. Indirect object Possession is part of the meaning of verbs such as have ‘have’, få ‘get’, mangle ‘lack’, miste ‘lose’, give ‘give’, tage ‘take’. That means that possession is lexicalized in Danish, not that it is grammaticized, i.e. expressed by a grammatical morpheme which is part of the grammatical system. But in a theory of deep case many different predicates take the same semantic role, viz. the role of the possessor as their subject, object or indirect object. I shall sketch such a theory in this section. Predicates describing states of affairs (SoA) are subdivided into four types, depending on their aspect (state or accomplishment) and their orientation (part-oriented or whole-oriented) (Widell 1996): Point of view Aspect
State
Accomplishment
Orientation
være ‘be’
blive ‘become’
Part-oriented
Whole-oriented have ‘have’ få ‘get’
The entities that participate in an SoA can play three different roles relative to the predicate: the relations ‘‘be’’ or ‘‘become’’ constitute an SoA with one role: Hun var så ækel ‘She was ugly’, Der brænder 100 lamper ‘a hundred lamps are burning’. I will adopt the terminology (Togeby 1996) that this entity plays the
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be-role (B). The relations ‘‘have’’ and ‘‘get’’ demand two roles to establish an SoA, e.g. Hun havde et forklæde ‘she had an apron’, han fik alle pengene ‘he got all the money’. One of them has the be-role, et forklæde ‘an apron’ og alle pengene ‘all the money’, and the other one has what I call the have-role (H). The be and have relations are mirror-image relations, i. e. the same relation between a whole and one of its parts seen from two different viewpoints, whole-oriented or part-oriented: træerneH havde bladeB ‘the trees had leaves’ = der var bladeB på træerneH ‘there were leaves on the trees’. Both eje ‘own’ and tilhøre ‘belong to’ are verbs involving the be-role and the have-role: heksenH ejer forklædetB ‘the witch owns the apron’ = forklædetB tilhører heksenH ‘the apron belongs to the witch’. In many cases, but not in all, there is synonymy between ‘‘x has y’’ and ‘‘y is at x’’, and in some languages, e.g. Russian, ‘‘have’’ is normally expressed by be at. This alternation between whole-oriented and part-oriented predicates is more frequent in Danish than normally assumed. It is directly expressed in this example: I en del grupperH findes der kun en hanB, men andreH har op til fireB ‘in some groups there is only one male, but other groups have up to four’. In the Danish constitution the separation of the powers is stated in the following way: 3. Den lovgivende magtB er hos kongen og folketinget i foreningH. Den udøvende magtB er hos kongenH. Den dømmende magtB er hos domstoleneH. ‘The legislative power is with the king and the parliament together. The executive power is with the king. The judicial power is with the law-courts.’ Both the have and the be-relation can be seen as effected or ‘‘done’’ by some other processes in relation to which a third entity plays the do-role (D), e.g. hunD rakte forklædetB til soldatenH ‘she passed the apron to the soldier’ means ‘she caused the apron to be with the soldier’, and hunD gav soldatenH forklædetB ‘she gave the soldier the apron’ means ‘she caused the soldier to have the apron’. Predicates may be monovalent, bivalent or trivalent. Monovalent predicates take as a subject only a be-role, bivalent predicates take a be-role and a have-role, være hos ‘be at’, a have-role and a be-role, have ‘have’, a do-role and a be-role skrive ‘write’, or a do-role and a have-role skrive på ‘be writing’; the be-role is the effect of the doing of the do-role, hunD skrev et brevB ‘she wrote a letter’, the have-role is affected by the doing hunD skrev på en romanH ‘she was working on a novel’. Trivalent predicates take all three roles. HeksenD rakte forklædetB til soldatenH ‘the witch passed the apron to the soldier’ and HeksenD gav soldatenH sit forklædeB ‘The witch gave the soldier her apron’. The trivalent SoA is constituted by a become-relation (↓) between be-role
Possession in Danish grammar
and have-role, or a get-relation (↑) between have-role and be-role and a causative relation (→) between do-role and the other relation, i.e. either a dobecome-relation, Heksen gav forklædet til soldaten ‘The witch gave the apron to the soldier’, or a do-get-relation, Heksen gav soldaten forklædet ‘The witch gave the soldier the apron’. D has the effect B (at H) do-role
be-role
→ predicate ↓ ↑
D affects H (with B)
B is at H; H has B
have-role
Linguistically the three types of roles in the predicational kernel are defined as follows: 1. the be-role (B) syntactically: the transitive object, or the intransitive subject semantically: the thing which is referred to as being, becoming or remaining, or the effect of the doing 2. the do-role (D) syntactically: transitive subject (active) semantically: the person or thing referred to as doing or causing something intentionally 3. the have-role (H) syntactically: the indirect object, and (in most cases) the prepositional object or the subject of transitive mental verbs taking a that-clause as object, such as tænke ‘think’, drømme ‘dream’, se at . . . ‘see that . . .’. semantically: the entity being referred to as the place of the action or the person having something or the person affected by an action or a phenomenon. (Besides the roles of the predication there are in a clause satellites of different types denoting: time, place, duration, instrument, companion, material, aim, result, condition, cause, but that is irrelevant in this connection.) The have-role expresses location, the experiencer and, it is supposed, the possessor. The have-role in many cases expresses the location, ‘‘the place in which the be-role is or becomes’’: 5/ Der kom [en soldat]B marcherende henad [Landevejen]H ‘There came a soldier marching down the high road’; 19/ [det Træ]B,
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der stod ved siden af [dem]H ‘the tree near by them’; 28 naar [Du]B kommer ned paa [Bunden af træet]H ‘when you touch bottom of the tree’. Active transitive verbs expressing mental experiences and taking that-clauses as their objects are analysed as having the have-role as subject and a be-role as object: [Soldaten]H så [at der stod et stort træ]B ‘the soldier saw that there was a big tree’. And when the have-role expresses the sensor of a mental experience, there is often a mirror-image verb expressing the same relation with the phenomenon as subject: Soldaten skulle ikke bryde sig om at hunden havde store øjne ‘the soldier should not worry about the fact that the dog had big eyes = at hunden havde store øjne bekymrede ikke soldaten ‘the fact that the dog had big eyes didn’t worry the soldier’. The have-role is in connection with trivalent predicates in the active realized either as an indirect object (a) or as a prepositional phrase (b): (2) a.
HeksenD gav soldatenH forklædetB ‘the witch gave the soldier the apron’ b. HeksenD gav forklædetB til soldatenH ‘the witch gave the apron to the soldier’
This alternation is called dative-shift by some authors. The subject in the passive is either the be-role or the have-role: (3) a.
I ønskes en god Jul ‘You are wished a merry X-mas’ b. En god jul ønskes jer ‘a merry X-mas is wished you’
Langacker (1991: 13) explains the difference between (2a) and (2b) in the following way: ‘‘The semantic contrast resides in the relative salience of certain facets of this complex scene: (a) ‘‘The juxtaposition of two unmarked nominals [. . .] after the verb symbolizes a possessive relationship between the first nominal and the second; (b) the morpheme to specifically designates the path [. . .], thereby rendering this aspect of the conceptualization more prominent than it would otherwise be.’’ In his explanation the indirect object is the grammaticization of possession in opposition to the prepositional construction where the concept of a path is emphasized: Jeg gav rækværket en ny farve ‘I gave the fence a new colour’; *jeg gav en ny farve til rækværket ‘*I gave a new colour to the fence’; jeg bagte hende en kage ‘I baked her a cake’; jeg slog hende græsplænen ‘I mowed her the lawn’. In my opinion the difference between (a) and (b) is better explained by
Possession in Danish grammar
the general difference in orientation: (a) is whole-oriented: the witch affects the soldier; (b) is part-oriented: the witch has effect on the apron, it changes place. Durst-Andersen and Herslund (1996) explain it as a difference between (a) resultative and (b) attemptative. But this explanation is do-role-oriented. In Danish grammar (Diderichsen 1946: 188) the relation between an indirect object and a direct object is explained as a secondary nexus, as a reduced subject verb relation hun gav ham bogen ‘she gave him the book’ implies han fik bogen ‘he got the book’, and hun lærte ham at læse ‘she taught him to read’. According to this theory the have-role expresses subjecthood with reference to this secondary nexus. The general meaning of the indirect object in Danish is, according to my theory of semantic roles, the entity in the SoA which is either the location at which the be-role is (or goes), the subject of a secondary nexus between the have-role and the be-role, or the person affected by the do-role, or by a propositional be-role. Possession is only one subpart of that general meaning.
. Verbs The relation of possession is implied by verbs involving a have-role. But the have-role is a notion much broader than that of possession. In the following I will describe the semantics of verbs taking the have-role. Verbs having a have-role express meronymy, location, control, subjecthood, affectedness and experience. A. Meronymy, often in connection with verbs indicating inalienable properties: han har et par øjne så store som tekopper ‘he has a couple of eyes as big as saucers’, I en del grupper findes der kun en han, men andre har op til fire ‘in some groups there is only one male, but other groups have up to four’, de havde den guddommelige egenskab . . . ‘they had the divine characteristic . . .’ B. Location: intet andet anses som indeholdt i aftalen ‘nothing else is considered to be implied by the agreement’, tag du af kisten så meget guld du vil ‘take from the chest as much gold as you want’, han huggede højre øre af ham ‘he cut off his right ear’. C. Control, also called alienable properties: 1. Divalent predicates: Hvor du har en pæn sabel og en stor tornister ‘what a fine sword you’ve got there, and what a big knapsack’, lægen der havde klinikken ‘the doctor who had the clinic’, geden måtte have godt foder ‘the goat should have som good feeding stuff ’, indehaveren af møbelforretningen ejede hele ejendommen ‘the
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owner of the furniture shop owned the whole block’, . . . som du vil eje ‘that you want to own’, 2. Trivalent predicates: Jeg giver dig mit blåternede forklæde ‘I’ll give you my blue checked apron’, Aserne havde taget den (verden) fra dem ‘The Aesir had taken it (the world) from them’, statsejendele der skal overlades kongen til brug ‘national property that is to be at the king’s disposal’, vinderen overtager territoriet ‘the winner takes over the territory’, genstanden overgives i køberens besiddelse ‘the article is given into the purchaser’s possession’, hvortil ikke kræves særlig adkomst ‘to which no claim is demanded’. D. Subjecthood: afgive sit votum til protokollen ‘submit his vote for the record’, de skal have mere selvbestemmelse ‘they should have more self-determination’, banker kan miste fradrag ‘banks may lose deductions’, som havde tre sønner, (men kun en eneste ged) ‘who had three sons, but only one goat’. E. Affectedness: Kongen skal høre til den evangelisk-Lutherske kirke ‘the king must belong to the evangelic Lutheranian church’, for at modtage folkets hyldest ‘to receive the homage of the people’, et ministerium som har fået et mistillidsvotum ‘a ministry that has received a vote of no confidence’. F. Experience: Soldaten så at der stod et stort træ ‘the soldier saw that there was a big tree’, Soldaten skulle ikke bryde sig om at hunden havde store øjne ‘the soldier should not worry because the dog had big eyes’, at hunden havde store øjne bekymrede ikke soldaten ‘the fact that the dog had big eyes didn’t worry the soldier’, tak skal du have ‘you have my thanks’, Gud skænke os alle et glædeligt nytår ‘may God give all of us a happy new year’, at have så stor viden som muligt ‘to have as much knowledge as possible’, fordi de har en bagtanke ‘because they have an ulterior motive’, de havde ikke andre guder dengang ‘they had no other gods at that time’. One important use of the verb have ‘have’ has to be mentioned. The verb serves, in Danish as well as in English, as an auxiliary that forms the perfect tense of most verbs: han havde været i krigen ‘he had been at war’, har den fået nok at æde ‘has it got enough to eat’, kommiteen har holdt møde to gange ‘the committee has met twice’. Is this use of the verb as an auxiliary related to the meaning described above as meronymy, location and subjecthood? Langacker (1991: 339) believes that it is the case: ‘. . . a kind of subjectification, in that the prominence characteristic of profiling passes from an objective relationship of control, access, or potency to a referencepoint relationship based on the subjective phenomenon of the conceptualizer establishing mental contact with the target. A precisely analogous change figures
fremtidens lærer ‘the teacher of the future’
Eikstedts dragoner ‘Eikstedt’s dragoons’
deres embedsførelse ‘their discharge’
verdens skabelse ‘the creation of the world’
Location
Controller
Subjecthood
Effect, affectedness
Experiencer
Accompaniment
hendes underlæbe ‘her lower lip’
Genitive
Meronymy
Table 1.
afgive votum ‘submit his vote’
hun lærte ham at læse ‘she taught him to read’
uden folketingets samtykke ‘without the consent of the parliament
sveden sprang ud af ham udarbejdelse af BNI ‘the sweat gushed out of ‘calculation of GNI’ him’
hun fortalte ham det ‘she told him it’
han så at der sad en hund ‘he saw that there sat a dog’
de malede porten rød modtage hyldest ‘to receive ‘they painted the gate homage’ red’
lægen der havde klinikken ‘the doctor who had the clinic’
den dømmende magt jeg giver dig mit forklæde ‘I’ll give you er hos kongen ‘the judicial power is with my apron’ the king’
karlene (oppe fra Herregården) ‘the grooms from the manor’ krav fra hans klient ‘the claims from his client’
så er du i en stor gang ‘you are in a great hall’
de gik hjem ‘they went home’
fiskene i vandet ‘the fish in the water’
(karlene oppe fra) Herregården ‘the grooms from the manor’
Verbs hunden havde øjne så store som tekopper ‘The dog had eyes as big as saucers’
have-role
bunden af træet ‘the bottom of the tree’
Preposition
på ryggen ‘on the back’
Definiteness
Possession in Danish grammar
Ole Togeby
in the evolution of have into a marker of perfect aspect. In that case, however, the relevant sense of have is one in which the target is not a thing but rather a process construed atemporally and expressed by a past-participial complement. The hypothesized starting point is thus an expression such as He has finished (. . .) Specifically, the precursor of the perfect have is assumed to have profiled a relationship of relevance or potency between its trajector (specified by the subject) and the prior event described by the complement. On this interpretation, He has finished would indicate, roughly, that the subject stands in a relationship of accomplishment vis-à-vis the finishing, or that the prior occurrence of finishing remains relevant to him.’
.
Conclusion
To sum up: the concept of possession is expressed in the following ways in the Danish text: (a) genitive, (b) definite form, (c) prepositional phrase, (d) indirect object, (e) so called ethical dative + preposition + definite form, primarily about body parts and clothing, and (f) verbs. In Danish all the forms expressing possession have the general meaning potential: meronymy, location, control, subjecthood, effect or affectedness (and some of them the meaning accompaniment and experience). This is illustrated in Table 1. These senses are generalized to the sense reference-point for the profiling of some other relevant information about the SoA. I conclude that possession is not a grammaticized concept in Danish, but only part of a much more abstract concept of reference-point.
References Davidsen-Nielsen, N. (ed.). 1996. Sentence Analysis, Valency, and the Concept of Adject [Copenhagen Studies in Language 19]. Copenhagen: Samfundslitteratur. Diderichsen, P. 1946. Elementær Dansk Grammatik. Copenhagen: Gyldendal. Durst-Andersen, P. and Herslund, M. 1996. “Prepositional objects in Danish’’. In Proceedings of the Thirteenth Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, L. Heltoft and H. Haberland (eds), 93–108. Roskilde: Department of Languages and Culture, Roskilde University. Halliday, M. A. K. 1994. An Introduction to Functional Grammar. Second Edition. London: Edward Arnold. Herslund, M. and Sørensen, F. 1993. “Valence Theory. An Introduction to the Danish Project’’. In The Nordlex Project. Lexical Studies in the Scandinavian Languages [LAMBDA 18], M. Herslund and F. Sørensen (eds), 1–22. Copenhagen Business School.
Possession in Danish grammar
Herslund, M. and Sørensen, F. 1994. “A Valence Based Theory of Grammatical relations’’. In Function and Expression in Functional Grammar [Functional Grammar Series 16], E. Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds), 81–95. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Herslund, M. and Sørensen, F. 1996. “Introduction’’ and “Discussion’’. In N. DavidsenNielsen (ed.), 9–13, 143–157. Langacker, R. W. 1991. Concepts, Image, and Symbol. The Cognitive Basis of Grammar. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Taylor, J. R. 1995. Linguistic Categorization. Prototypes in Linguistic Theory. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Togeby, O. 1996. “The Locative Argument’’. In N. Davidsen-Nielsen (ed.), 127–142. Widell, P. 1996. “Aspektuelle verbalklasser og semantiske roller. Den dobbelte aspektkalkule’’. In Semantiske roller [Odense Working Papers in Language and Communication 10], L. Schack Rasmussen (ed.), 135–168. Odense University.
Chapter 3
Possession spaces in Danish Finn Sørensen
.
Introduction
The linguistic phenomenon called possession is a rather strange phenomenon, so strange that one might say that it does not exist. There is for example no single set of constructions in a particular language, which can be said to be the possessional constructions of that language by reference to some formal syntactic criteria. And there is no unified semantic field, which unifies exactly the possessive notions linguists want to use in their semantic characterization of different possessional constructions. Therefore there is no explanation in any theory I know of as to why there are eight to ten different kinds of possession.1 Even the well-known and well-established distinction between alienable and inalienable possession is more often than not just imposed by the data rather than predicted. The aim of this paper is to sketch a tentative theory which characterizes the basic possessive notions needed to describe possessive phenomena in Danish and which relates possession to other semantic phenomena, and in particular to space phenomena.
. Basics The central idea of the theory to be described below is that languages express location via binary location relations, that a space of some sort is pointed out via entities like individuals and that possession is a particular kind of space. So the theory is clearly relational and localistic.2 As all other theories my theory needs to operate with objects. Among the objects some are abstract and others are composed of material stuff. A situation (or an event) is abstract, while a person or a portion of water is a material object. And objects may be either discrete like situations and persons or nondiscrete like a portion of water.
Finn Sørensen
I also need location patterns which have the form 〈L, o, s(o’)〉, where L is a location relation, o and o’ are objects, and s is a space function. A particular structure of this form states that o is within the space s(o’) in the way specified by the relation L. A direct encoding of the location pattern can be illustrated by (1): (1)
Peter ligger under bordet. ‘Peter lies under the table’
where Peter denotes the located object, the table the reference object (=o’), under the table the space, i.e. the space (or area) situated between the table and the floor on which it is placed, and ligger gives the location (‘is_within’) and the posture of Peter. So prepositions are functions, i.e. relations which by means of a reference object point out spaces situated in the neighbourhood of this object. Change of preposition thus amounts to change of space, cf.: (2) a. b. c. d.
i London (‘in London’) over London (‘over London’) under London (‘under London’) ved siden af London (‘beside London’)
and not to a change of the locating part of the relation introduced in a particular utterance. The space creating function assigned to prepositions above can also be expressed implicitly by the location relation in location structures, by cases or by other kinds of linguistic markers. In order to integrate possession into the location theory just sketched I propose that there exists a function pos which operates on objects and associates these objects with a possession space. As other space functions pos may be expressed explicitly or implicitly. Before applying this theory of possession to possessive constructions in Danish I want to stress the following points. A space is an empty and extended abstract object, which only exists as part of a location structure in which some object is claimed to be in the space created by the space creating function. This is a clear relativistic position towards space phenomena, and in relation to languages it is based on the empirical claim that (i) space expressions like prepositional phrases always locate something and (ii) the subject of an intransitive verb taking only one argument can never denote a space. A possessive pattern in the theory proposed above is claimed to be a location pattern in which the space is a possession space. So a possessor is an object
Possession spaces
which is associated with a possession space in which some relation locates an object, the possessee. Note that pos thus is not a relation between the possessor and the possessee as is the case in many theories, but a relation between an object and a space which assigns the possessor role to the object.3 My third and final remark is that the holding of any particular location claim made by an utterance, be it possessional or not, may be subject to circumstantial restrictions having to do with, for example, which type of space the speaker is talking about. There are, I think, rather different restrictions on what one can locate in a geographical space like ‘in Paris’, in a domain space like ‘in linguistics’, or in a possession space like ‘for Peter’ (cf. this book is for Peter).4
. Possession in Danish . The constructions In Danish (and in many other languages) one finds three major constructions, which are used to express possession, i.e. to express location of objects in possession spaces. The three constructions are: (3) Peters to hatte. ‘Peter’s two hats’
(the genitive construction)
(4) Peter har to hatte. ‘Peter has two hats’
(the have-construction)
(5) Jens gav Peter to hatte. ‘Jens gave Peter two hats’
(the give-construction)5
Disregarding ambiguities I would say that in (3)–(5) Peter is associated with a possessive space and that the two hats are said to be located in this space in three different ways because the involved objects, Peter and the two hats, are introduced by different grammatical means. And the possession function pos is implicitly expressed by the relational marker -s (‘s’), the verb have (‘have’), and the verb give (‘give’). It is this analysis of (3)–(5) I want to argue for on the following pages. But first some more facts. . Two sets of facts The three constructions illustrated in (3)–(5) can be used to express several
Finn Sørensen
slightly different semantic relations and very often a particular instance of one of the constructions is ambiguous, especially the genitive construction. As for the semantic flexibility of the constructions I want to stress that they all may be used with a locational meaning (= location within a geographical space): (6) a.
Byens larm. ‘The town’s noise’ b. Larmen i byen. ‘The noise in the town’
(7)
Byen har mange indbyggere. ‘The town has many inhabitants’
(8) a.
Peter efterlod Jens på banegården. ‘Peter left Jens at the station’ b. Peter efterlod Jens en formue. ‘Peter left Jens a fortune’
If (3)–(5) and (6a, 7, 8a) are analysed along the same lines it becomes natural to find this flexibility. This is not the case if possession and location are conceived of as completely different phenomena. As for the ambiguity of the constructions mentioned in (3)–(5) it is most clearly manifested in the genitive construction, cf. (9) which can have the meanings given as paraphrases in (10): (9)
Byens biler. ‘The town’s cars’
(10) a.
Bilerne i byen. ‘The cars in the town’ b. Bilerne der tilhører byen. ‘The cars belonging to the town’
(Location) (Possession)
The verb have (‘have’), which clearly accepts the possessive reading, cf. (4), is difficult to construct with a pure locational meaning except in cases like (7). But the ambiguity is found with verbs like tabe (‘lose’) which may mean both termination of possession, cf. (11), and change of location, cf. (12): (11)
Peter tabte sine penge i spil. ‘Peter lost his money in gambling’
Possession spaces
(12)
Peter tabte sine penge på gulvet. ‘Peter dropped his money on the floor’
Also with verbs like give/efterlade (‘give/leave’) it is difficult to find ambiguous sentences. When they are used in the pattern NP1 V NP2 NP3 they have a possessional meaning, cf. (5) and (8b). In the pattern NP1 V NP2 prep NP3 give (‘give’) can only have the possessional meaning while efterlade (‘leave’) also can have a locational meaning, cf. (8a). In Danish then, the constructions illustrated in (3)–(5) are semantically flexible in the sense that they can have more meanings, and they can in some cases be ambiguous. The problem now is whether these facts can be explained in a reasonable way by the theory proposed in Section 2.
. Applying the theory to Danish . An example Consider the following example: (13)
Finns Paris er bedre end Michaels. ‘Finn’s Paris is better than Michaels’
For anybody who knows Finn and Michael it is clear that (13) is about the capital of France because they both like to go to that city. It is also clear that both Finns Paris (‘Finn’s Paris’) and Michaels Paris (‘Michael’s Paris’) are genitive constructions associated with a possessional meaning in the sense that some part of Paris belongs to Finn and some other part belongs to Michael. So both Michael and Finn are possessors. But the two genitives do not just say that Michael and Finn both are possessors of Paris in which case it would not make sense to use the comparative predicate ‘is better than’. What happens is that the genitive -s creates a pattern of the form 〈 _, _, Fs(_) 〉, where Fs is a variable over functions creating spaces. So Finns (and Michaels) defines a space associated with Finn (and Michael). In this space you will find, say, Finn’s experience with Paris and in another we have Michael’s experience with Paris. The point I want to make by (13) and the analysis just given is that an event like an experience hardly can be said to be possessed by someone or to belong to someone. But it can easily be said to be in a certain space, here a possessional space. That is why I take the genitives as evidence for possessional spaces even though genitives as Finn’s Paris are a bit marginal.
Finn Sørensen
. Genitive constructions To be consistent I now must say that all genitives are locational in some way and that it is the genitive marker, which imposes the locational pattern on the interpretation of genitives. Due to lack of space I cannot comment on all the different kinds of genitives. But let me illustrate why I think such an approach can explain the flexibility of genitives mentioned in Section 3.2. Consider the genitive in (14): (14) Fabrikkens vinduer. ‘The factory’s windows’
(14) may have three meanings. The windows may be parts of the factory as a building. The windows may be placed within the space delimited by the walls of the factory. And the windows may have been produced at the factory. With respect to the placed_within case, which can also be expressed as in (15): (15) Vinduerne inde i fabrikken. ‘The windows in the factory’
the interpretation seems clear. The windows are said to be placed in the space constituting the interior of the factory. Notice that a factory is a material object having a certain purpose, the production of something. But what counts in (14) when it has the meaning illustrated in (15) is that a factory as an object has a form, which determines an empty space, the interior (of the factory). So this locational meaning of (14) can only be assigned to genitives having a genitivised NP which has an interior. This restriction is a direct consequence of the theory presented here. And the crucial notion is that of space creation. When (14) is used to describe the origin of the windows the space interpretation also seems straightforward, cf. expressions like vinduet er fra Velux (‘the window is from Velux’) (Velux is the name of a Danish window production company). So the basic meaning in this case is: some object o, here the window, comes from the object o¹, where from the object o¹ denotes the space within which the object o was created or starts its history. Note that in this case the factory is regarded as a space filled with a certain kind of activity, an interpretation, which is close to the one assigned to the genitives in (13). The third meaning carried by (14) is the part–whole meaning. Could this meaning have something to do with spaces? I think so. And here is the explanation. Any space s has, as an extended empty entity, a set of subspaces that are all part of
Possession spaces
the superspace s. And all material objects fill out a certain space s¹ because of their form and extension. The material interior of s is the set of sublocations s¹1, …, s¹n satisfying the following conditions: (i) For each s¹i, s¹i is a part of s; (ii) there exists a partition PAR of the object o so that each object in PAR (o) is in an s¹i and each s¹i is filled out by an object in PAR. Given these rather natural extensions of the theory proposed in Section 2, the meaning of (14) in the part–whole case is: the windows are located within the material interior of the factory. So once again we have a space created by the genitive -s, this time the material interior of the factory. And some windows are located in this space. From this account it follows that the windows as objects are part of the factory as an object. But the flexibility of the genitive is also explained because all the meanings of (14) and similar constructions are seen as a variation of the same pattern, the location pattern. Note that I am not saying that the part– whole distinction can be reduced to location. I am only saying that the genitive construction may involve location in the material interior of an object, and when it does then the part–whole relation holds between the two objects.6 . Other constructions The observations I made in connection with the constructions in (3)–(5) were that the flexibility of have- and give-constructions is more constrained than the genitive construction. Why is this so? Is there a beginning of an explanation in the framework proposed here? If it exists it must have something to do with the selection of space, as this is the only natural place to make distinctions in the location patterns I operate with. It is natural that the genitive construction has the greatest flexibility because the genitive -s just introduces a variable over space functions, which will be fixed differently depending on the context. This is what I argued in Section 4.2. As for the verbal constructions it is natural that each verb imposes restrictions on its arguments. In the case of space arguments they ought to be sensitive to different kinds of spaces. This prediction is corroborated to a certain extent. In Baron and Herslund (this volume) it is shown that the meaning of certain uses of have involves what they call inclusion and can be illustrated by the following examples: (16) a.
Huset har et sort tag. ‘The house has a black roof ’
Finn Sørensen
b. Peter har et hus. ‘Peter has a house’ c. Fabrikken har ti arbejdere. ‘The factory has ten workers’
In my terms have (‘have’) locates the located object, here the referent of the syntactic object, within the material interior of the house, (16a), within the interior of the possession space associated with Peter (16b), and within the interior of the factory as an organization, (16c). So, in Danish have (‘have’) means ‘is_within’ and it selects the interior of some object. This is a partial success because it unifies the description of have (‘have’) up to the selection of spaces. Why possession goes together with material and abstract interiors is clearly not explained. As for verbs like give (‘give’) the choice of a possessive denoting argument is obligatory, while the verbs efterlade (‘leave’) and tabe (‘lose’/‘drop’) can express both possession and location, cf. the examples in (8), (11) and (12). This can be predicted by a more fine-grained analysis of types of space, a project I can not report on in this paper.
. Conclusion I think the sketch of a theory presented above is promising because it allows to unify possession and location via the notion of a space and because it is sufficiently fine grained to predict both the distinction between possession and location and the different selections made by different linguistic units. I also think that the theory can make, and even already predicts, the distinction between alienable and inalienable possession often discussed by grammarians and linguists. Note that all spaces are introduced via some abstract or material objects. Given this huge class of spaces there are two natural classifications of these spaces. In one class we have all the possession spaces. In another we have all the other types of space. But in both subclasses we can also make a distinction between spaces, which are external to the object used to create the spaces, and spaces, which are internal to the object used to create the spaces. The combination of these two distinctions gives exactly what is needed. Alienable possession is location in a possessional space exterior to the reference object, and inalienable possession is location in a possessional space interior to the reference object, cf. the well-known distinction between Peter har en bil (‘Peter
Possession spaces
has a car’) and Peter har to øjne (‘Peter has two eyes’), respectively. For reasons of space I cannot develop this analysis. But I think I have shown that the proposed theory of spaces is promising.
Notes . See the list given in Heine (1997a: Chap. 1.3), Heine (1997b: Chap. 5.1.3). . The theory is localistic because a location relation introduces possession as a kind of space. And it is relational because spaces only exist as part of a location relation. . In many different theoretical contexts the possessee is said to be related directly to the possessor, cf. Heine (1997a, b); Jackendoff (1996); Herslund (1997); Barker (1995). . Some linguists and grammarians seem to think of location only in cases like ‘in Paris’ which I call a geographical space. But such a restricted view of location is not very fruitful in connection with language. In the theory proposed here the function of expressions like in Paris and in linguistics is the same in sentences such as: In Paris I liked to walk around, in linguistics an argument is not always accepted as such. The only difference is the kind of space denoted by the prepositional phrases. . For some reason this construction is rarely mentioned in connection with possession, but it is clearly possessional in the same sense as in (3) and (4). . The presence of both the locational parameter and the possessional parameter is also part of the account of possession in Herslund (1997) and Baron and Herslund (1997).
References Barker, C. 1995. Possessive Descriptions. Stanford: CSLI Publications. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997. “The Danish Verb have and the Notion of Possession’’. In I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 131–157. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. (eds). 1997. Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3]. Copenhagen Business School. Heine, B. 1997a. Possession. Cognitive sources, forces and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heine, B. 1997b. Cognitive Foundations of Grammar. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and Possession’’. In I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Jackendoff, R. 1996. “Semantics and Cognition’’. In Contemporary Semantic Theory, S. Lappin (ed.), 539–560. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
Chapter 4
The verb have in Nyulnyulan languages William McGregor
.
Introduction
A good deal is known about the expression of possession within NPs in Australian Aboriginal languages (virtually every grammar discusses it), and to a lesser extent about external possession (“possessor raising’’) constructions (e.g. McGregor 1985, Chappell and McGregor 1995, Part 2, and McGregor 1999a). By contrast, precious little is known about predicative possession, about the means available for expressing the possessive relation as the primary predicate of a clause. No grammar of an Australian language provides a detailed account of the topic, and the majority ignore it completely; nor is there any literature devoted specifically to it. This paper represents an initial excursus into the domain, investigating the verb ‘have’ in the Nyulnyulan languages, a non-Pama-Nyungan family consisting of about ten languages spoken in and near the Dampier Land region in the far north-west of Australia.1 Six Nyulnyulan languages are definitely known to show lexical expression of predicative possession by means of a ‘have’ verb. In each case it is a simple inflecting verb, never a compound verb construction involving an uninflecting preverb plus an inflecting auxiliary verb (see e.g. McGregor 1996: 38, 47–48). In the Western Nyulnyulan languages Nyulnyul, Jabirrjabirr, and Nimanburru the verb is -BAKAND, whilst in Bardi it is the probably non-cognate -LABA ~ LEBANBAD.2 In the Eastern Nyulnyulan group Nyikina shows the verb -BIKA ~ -BI, and Warrwa, -BA. Yawuru, also an Eastern Nyulnyulan language, almost certainly does not possess a lexical verb ‘have’. Although Nekes and Worms (1953) mention -BAKAND ‘have, possess, own’ as a Yawuru verb, they do not exemplify its use, and according to Hosokawa (1991) the only verbal expression of predicative possession involves the verb -NI ~ -NGA ~ -JI ‘be’ (as do all examples cited in Nekes and Worms 1953). The three remaining Nyulnyulan languages, Jawi, Ngumbarl, and Jukun are moribund, and it is not known whether they also had a ‘have’ verb.
William McGregor
The discussion is organised as follows. Section 2 outlines the main properties of the ‘have’ verbs in Nyulnyulan languages. Following this, Section 3 discusses the nature of the relationship between the two entities, the subject (possessor) and the object (possessum). Section 4 then presents evidence that the ‘have’ verb is not a copula, but a “full’’ verb. Section 5 concludes the paper with a brief summary and some general remarks on ‘have’ verbs in Australian languages.
. Main features of ‘have’ verbs in Nyulnyulan languages Before discussing the syntax and semantics of the ‘have’ verbs, a few remarks on their morphological characteristics are in order. The Bardi verb -LABA is formally transitive: it belongs to the na conjugation class, the members of which are predominantly transitive. This is illustrated by the past tense form i-na-laba-na (3.sg.nom-tr-have-pa) ‘he/she/it had him/her/it’. The situation for -LEBANBAD is not known: no forms of this verb are available that permit us to determine its conjugation class. By contrast, the ‘have’ verbs in the other languages are all formally intransitive, that is, they belong to the intransitive Ø conjugation class. In Nyulnyul, for instance, we have i-m-bakand-an (3.sg.nom-en-have-imp) ‘he/she/it had him/her/it’, rather than *i-na-mbakand-an (3.sg.nom-tr-en-have-imp). In Warrwa, baana (i.e. Ø-ba(a)-na 3.min.nom-have-imp) ‘he/she/it had him/her/it’ occurs, not *na-wa-na or *nam-ba-na, with the na (transitive) class prefix. And Nyikina shows yi-m-biga-na (3.min.nom-en-have-pa) ‘he/she/it had him/her/it’, not *yi-na-(m)biga-na. The other Nyikina form -BI is reconstructed from inflected forms given in Nekes and Worms (1953), who classify it as intransitive; it does not appear in Stokes (1982). Another respect in which ‘have’ in Nyulnyulan languages appears to be intransitive, or at least of reduced transitivity, is that it lacks a reflexive/ reciprocal form, even in Bardi. There would seem to be no semantic reason why such a form should not exist for this verb, since at least some of its senses admit reflexive or reciprocal interpretations (see next section). Despite the formal intransitivity of the verb ‘have’ in all languages except Bardi, it can host a non-zero accusative pronominal enclitic cross-referencing the possessed object, and occur in a fully transitive clause, with subject marked by the ergative postposition, as shown by examples (1) and (2). Hence there is a mismatch between the transitivity of lexical verb itself, and the transitivity of
have in Nyulnyulan languages
the entire inflected verb construction and/or the clause, which is transitive. (We return to this observation later.)3 (1) nga-m-bika-ny-jarr-irr manja yila l.min.nom-en-have-pa-rel-3.aug.acc many dog ‘I used to have lots of dogs’ (Stokes 1982: 322) (2) kinimirr-in i-rr-bakand-in karrj jarringk shark-erg 3.nom-pl-have-pres sharp tooth ‘Sharks have very sharp teeth’
Nyikina
Nyulnyul
The verbs -BAKAND, -BIKA and -BA show, in addition to their ‘have’ possessive sense, also non-possessive interpretations that might be glossed ‘hold’, as in (3) and (4), and ‘keep’, as in (5). In none of these examples does the subject possess the object in any reasonable sense of the term. Similar examples are attested in other languages, with the possible exception of Bardi. As far as I can tell, there are no grammatical differences associated with these different senses. (3) kard wa-na-r jan nimal, mi-bakand still 2.sg.nom.fut-tr-pierce my hand 2.sg.nom-hold yadiny for.a.while ‘So keep holding my hand, hold it for a little while’ (4) nyinka-n nyinka-n, jubjub-ina Ø-baa-n, this-loc this-loc cut-ag 3.sg.nom-have-pres nyin-rnirl-ma, kujarra-layina, this-pl-erg two-alone ‘Three (rivets) hold the blade onto this (the handle)’
Nyulnyul
Warrwa
(5) imber-dj yong-en djan mai ban Nyulnyul ngimbirr-ij yu-ngk-in jan may ban night-dat 3.sg.nom-fut-be my food so mi-bogandan mi-bakand-an 2.sg.nom-hold-pres ‘Keep my meal ready for this evening, I can not eat it now’ [More accurately: ‘Keep my meal so it will be (ready) tonight’] (Nekes and Worms 1953: 796)
The lexemes -BAKAND, -BIKA, -BI and -BA are probably cognates, not just
William McGregor
because of the obvious phonological relatedness, but also because they are all unexpectedly assigned to the intransitive Ø conjugation. Not inconceivably they are reflexes of a verb *-BIKANDA, that might be traceable back to protoNyulnyulan. The likelihood of such a distant source is attested to by the fact that the four modern terms come from both branches of the Nyulnyulan family, Eastern and Western. Assuming this to be the case, what was its meaning in proto-Nyulnyulan? One possibility is that it meant ‘grasp’, or ‘hold’. And in fact this meaning is attested in Jukun: Bates (nd) cites a number of inflected forms of a verb she consistently transcribes as booganda — presumably -BUKANDA — an obvious reflex of *-BIKANDA, which she glosses ‘catch hold of ’ and ‘hold’. Furthermore, such a development would be consistent with a known pathway for development of ‘have’ verbs, viz. from more active verbs such as ‘grasp’, ‘take’, ‘obtain’, ‘hold’, ‘get’, etc. (e.g. Heine 1997: 47). Against this is the fact that *-BIKANDA must have belonged to the Ø conjugation, or its historical source; whichever, the verb must have been intransitive.4 This does not sit well with the proposed active meaning of the verb. Although at this stage it is impossible to be certain about the meaning of *-BIKANDA in proto-Nyulnyulan (assuming it does indeed go back that far), or about how it changed over time, the available language internal evidence makes it doubtful that the ‘grasp’, ‘take’, ‘get’ sense is historically prior. This may well be a case in which the more active meaning displayed by the Jukun verb has derived over time from a stative ‘have’ sense. ‘Have’, ‘hold’, ‘keep’, and ‘grasp’ are not, however, the only senses associated with the Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs, as we will see in the next section. Examination of the corpora (see note 1) reveals that the various senses show two recurrent features. First, there is always some associative relationship between the subject (or Agent) and object (or Undergoer): they are invariably related to one another by an associative link. And second, the clause always refers to a situation of some sort: to something going on or happening in the referent world. We examine these two characteristics in order in the following two sections.
. The associative relation between the two arguments of ‘have’ verbs Impressionistically, the associative relationship between the two arguments varies from very close, almost inherent ones, to quite temporary and accidental ones, with a number of intermediate possibilities. This is depicted in Figure 1,
have in Nyulnyulan languages
which also indicates the range of senses attested in each language for which relevant information is available. (Recall that Yawuru does not have a ‘have’ lexical verb and that information is lacking on Jukun, Ngumbarl, and Jawi.) Although not all points along the scale are attested for each language, it seems not unreasonable to suppose that the entire range indicated by the doubleheaded arrow was covered by the ‘have’ verb in the languages indicated. The missing points most likely represent vagaries of the recorded information. Some discussion and illustration is now given of the various points along this continuum; in most cases illustration could have been provided by multiple examples from more than one of the languages. At the closest extreme are parts of the subject’s body. Rarely, these are Western
Eastern
{ Bardi Nimanburru Jabirrjabirr Nyulnyul
Nyikina Warrwa
Items belonging to the personal domain Inalienable parts of the body Inalienable parts of the body with exceptional qualities Attached (alienable, regenerative, or non-permanent) body parts Attached parts of inanimates (things, plants, etc.) Manifestations of the body Items held in/on part of the body Items held in one’s domain of control Items looked after generally, typically kin, pets Items owned or over which one has rights of use Items existing within one’s socio-cultural domain Second-order (non-physical) entities concerning which one has knowledge, beliefs, practices, etc.
Figure 1. Types of associative relation expressed by have verbs in Nyulnyulan languages
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inalienable parts, but if so, they are parts that display some unusual, exceptional, or non-essential quality that marks them as different from the norm, as illustrated by example (6).5 More usually, however, they are the more alienable parts: attached and usually regenerative parts, such as beards (example (7)), fruit of plants, and so forth.6 (6) amb-nem i-leban budidj lamad amb-nim i-laba-n budij lamad man-erg 3.sg.nom-have-pres big cheek ‘The man has big cheeks’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 640)
Bardi
(7) djo¯ go¯l-nem ilebanbad dje¯d joo kool-nim i-lebanbad jiid 2.min.obl father-erg 3.sg.nom-have beard ‘Your father has a beard’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 649)
Bardi
Similar remarks hold for parts of inanimates, as illustrated by the following Warrwa example: (8) manyja-yinu mayi Ø-baa-n larrkardii-na many-abl nut 3.min.nom-have-pres boab.tree-erg baalu tree ‘The boab tree has lots of nuts’
Warrwa
Slightly more distant associations obtain where the object represents something more temporarily or less intrinsically associated with the subject, as in the case of sicknesses and diseases; undesirable or unnatural bodily conditions such as prickly heat, warts, pimples, sores, etc.; and parasites on an animal’s body. (9) provides illustration. (9) ai a-laba-n niman almb Bardi ngay nga-laba-n niman almb I 1.sg.nom-have-pres many prickly.heat ‘I have many blisters of prickly heat’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 318)
Next items in terms of distance are things that are typically held in the hand, and invoke the ‘hold’ sense of the verb, as in example (3) above. At a slightly greater remove are things that are (perhaps metaphorically) ‘held’ under a person’s care or control. For an inanimate thing, this may mean a prolonged physical proximity, as would probably have been involved in (5), where the item was presumably intended to be held continuously under the subject’s
have in Nyulnyulan languages
custodianship (rather than in their hands); for animate beings, less continual vigilance and physical contiguity is required, and more socially prescribed care and control may be involved, as for pets (example (1)), and kin (as in (10)). (10) juwa-na mi-m-ba-n kujarra baawa you-erg 2.min.nom-en-have-pres two child ‘You’ve got two children’
Warrwa
Moving further down the scale we find items one has right of use over, that is, prototypical alienable possessions (example (11)), possessed under socially prescribed ownership. For these entities there is no implication of caring-type involvement, or that they be held in physical proximity with the subjectowner. (11) warindjer djomborere mandjen a-boganden Nyulnyul, Jabirrjabirr warinyjirr jumbarrirri -manyjin nga-bukand-in arindjaar djomborere mindjen a-leban Bardi arinyjangarr jumbarrirri -minyjin nga-laba-n one knife-only 1.sg.nom-have-pres ‘I only have one knife’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 503, 686, 715)
The next point on the scale — items that exist in one’s socio-cultural domain — is attested in Bardi, as exemplified by (12). This also, incidentally, shows that the ‘have’ verb in this language at least can be used with something like an existential sense, as is not uncommon cross-linguistically. No other Nyulnyulan language shows either sense. (12) arra a-la-rra-laba iniini jarri not 1.pl.nom-irr-pl-have emu here ‘We don’t have emus here’ (Aklif 1991)
Bardi
Lastly, there are just a handful of examples in which the associated item is not a concrete entity, and the associative relation is an abstract mental, behavioural, or social one. Examples are (13) and (14). (13) kinya bijin-ka jalngkangurru [nya-ni wamba] Nyikina this Pigeon-emp doctor [this-erg man . . . malu nga-la-biga nilawal kinya wamba warany-ka not l.sg.nom-irr-have name this man other-emp ‘This medicine man [the first man] (was called) Pigeon, . . . but I don’t know [literally, have] the name of that other one’ (Stokes 1982: 147)
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(14) ara mile-lab ara god, ai mindjen Bardi arra mi-li-lab arang god ngay-minyjin not 2.sg.nom-irr-have other god I-only ‘Thou shalt not have strange gods before me’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 715)
Summing up, the associative relationship — which is invariably present in clauses involving the verb ‘have’ — can vary from a quite close relation to a very distant one. There is no evidence that any grammatical differences are associated with any point along the scale of Figure 1. They therefore represent etic, rather than emic, distinctions. The relation of possession as such, in the strong (perhaps prototypical) sense of ownership, applies only to a very small portion of this scale: really only to the antepenultimate point. Nevertheless, the term “possession’’ is no less appropriate for the Nyulnyulan semantic domain of the ‘have’ verbs than it is for the semantic domain of English have, which is similarly non-specific. And it has the advantage that it does not suggest that the associative relationship is restricted to the concrete and physical.
. Clauses with ‘have’ designate situations We turn now to the second characteristic feature of Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs, that the clauses they occur in always designate some ongoing situation, normally a stative one. The ‘have’ verbs, that is to say, are “full’’ referring verbs. They are not mere copulas that serve no other function than to mark or establish a possessive link between two NPs, the possessor and possessum, as have arguably is in English expressions such as John has a house (Lyons 1968: 388ff, McGregor 1997: 152).7 There are two aspects to this claim, one formal the other semantic. . Lack of distinctive grammatical peculiarities The formal facet is that there is (as far as I can determine) no significant grammatical difference whatever between the verb ‘have’ and any other “full’’ verb in any Nyulnyulan language; nor are the clauses they occur in in any way grammatically distinctive. The verb ‘have’ cannot be distinguished from any other verb in terms of peculiar grammatical behaviour that might be indicative of status as a copula. Clauses with the verb ‘have’ are structurally indistin-
have in Nyulnyulan languages
guishable from ordinary transitive clauses, with semantically “full’’ verbs or verbal constructions expressing meanings such as ‘hit’, ‘follow’, ‘leave’, ‘hear’, ‘carry’, etc. Basically this means that a non-elliptical clause involving the verb ‘have’ will show an NP that can be marked by the ergative postposition, and which is cross-referenced by the nominative pronominal prefix to the inflecting verb, and an unmarked NP that is cross-referenced by an accusative pronominal enclitic to the verb. Illustrative examples are (2), (4), (6)–(8), and (10) above. Two qualifications are in order. First, as the observant reader may have noticed, not all subjects of ‘have’ clauses are marked by the ergative postposition, see (9), for instance. However, there is no direct link between the presence vs. absence of the ergative postposition and the use of ‘have’ as a full verb vs. its use as a putative copula. Thus, the ‘keep’ and ‘have’ senses do not conveniently separate from one another on this dimension. In more than one instance we find ergative marking of the subject where the ‘have’ sense is manifest, and the ‘keep’ sense improbable: see examples (2) and (7). In fact, ergative marking of the subject of transitive clauses in Nyulnyulan languages is never obligatory (e.g. Stokes 1982: 132–135, McGregor 1996: 29, and McGregor 1999b). Omissibility of the ergative marker in clauses involving the ‘have’ sense of the ‘have’ verb cannot be marshalled as evidence in support of the proposition that these clauses employ it as a copula. The motivations for presence or absence of the ergative marker is not well understood for any Nyulnyulan language. This topic has been investigated in only one language, namely Warrwa, and somewhat superficially due to paucity of examples (McGregor 1999b). It seems that in Warrwa the ergative postposition may be omitted from the subject of a transitive clause only if the referent is: (i) low in agentivity (that is, is not particularly potent as an agent), and (ii) it is expected as an agent of the clause, given the discourse environment. Unfortunately, clauses with -BA ‘have’ are fairly uncommon in Warrwa texts, and it is impossible to provide compelling independent evidence that conditions (i) and (ii) motivate the omission of the ergative marker. Nevertheless, (15) and (16) do at least illustrate the proposed contrast. Both examples, it will be noted, manifest the ‘have’ sense of the verb -BA ‘have’, although they differ in terms of the degree of closeness between the possessor and possessum. Furthermore, (ii) is satisfied by the subjects of both examples: (15) comes from a mythological text about two snakes, and restates information provided in the two previous sentences; (16), on the other hand, was offered in the description of a drawing depicting a knife with a patch of blood on it
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and follows a number of sentences describing the knife, and in which it was the topic of discourse. However, whereas the knife quite obviously shows a very low degree of semantic agentivity, the snake does not. It has a normal degree of agentivity, both at the level of the referent situation — subjects of clauses expressing the possession of relatives are normally marked by the ergative — and in the surrounding discourse.8 (15) wayilwayil-ni Ø-baa-na jina baawa, brown.snake-erg 3.min.nom-have-imp 3.min.obl child bidiwarra-n jina, hole-loc 3.min.obl ‘The brown snake had his children in his hole’
Warrwa
(16) kunbulu nyinka Ø-baa-n, nyinka Ø-baa-n, Warrwa blood this 3.min.nom-have-pres this 3.min.nom-have-pres nyinka jubjub-ina-waalu, this cut-ag-thing ‘It has blood on it, the blade’
For other Nyulnyulan languages I can only remark that the handful of examples in the available corpora in which the subject is not ergatively marked are all elicited. They show the common feature that the possessor does not actively control the associative relationship, and thus that the subject is low in semantic agentivity, as in the case of Warrwa. Instead, the associative relationship seems to be more a result of external circumstances that the possessor has little power or influence over; it is not something that they can control, or exploit to achieve another goal. Indeed, the possessive relationship is typically something that the possessor suffers from, that disadvantages them, as in the case of example (9). By contrast, in example (2) we observe the more inalienable possession of teeth by a shark represented by a transitive clause with subject marked by the ergative. Notice, however, that teeth are at least advantageous to, and useable by the shark, even if it has no option about having them. Whether control and/or agentivity are relevant conditioning factors for the use of the ergative postposition in clauses with other verbs in languages other than Warrwa is not known for certain. However, it seems a reasonable possibility, particularly granted that it is relevant also in nearby, though at best distantly related, Gooniyandi (McGregor 1998). In sum, there is no reason to believe that ergative marking is differently motivated in ‘have’ clauses than any other clauses. Second, in a small number of examples the unmarked NP representing the object (the possessum) is not cross-referenced by a bound accusative pronom-
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inal enclitic. The reasons for this are not understood well, and require further study. However, one relevant observation is that items most likely to be possessed are inanimates and lower order animates, and such entities are quite frequently either not cross-referenced by bound pronominals, or are crossreferenced by third person singular forms, irrespective of the actual number of entities in the referent set. The third person singular accusative pronominal form being zero in all Nyulnyulan languages, it is often difficult (if not impossible) to distinguish between the two possibilities, and it may be that many examples that appear not to have an accusative pronominal enclitic might actually have a zero one. However, not all of the apparent exceptions can be accounted for in this way: see for instance examples (10) and (14) above. Accusative pronominal enclitics are occasionally omitted from the verbs of transitive clauses in Nyulnyul and Warrwa at least, so the fact that they are sometimes omitted from the verb ‘have’ can’t necessarily be taken as a peculiarity of the ‘have’ verb. . Semantic characteristics To complete the case against Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs as copulas, we now turn to semantic considerations. I will attempt to demonstrate that clauses with this verb do indeed refer to situations occurring in some referent world. Obviously the ‘hold’ and ‘keep’ senses are consistent with this proposal. It is in respect of other senses that situation status requires some motivation. To begin with, as hinted above, it is not unreasonable to consider that examples such as (1) and (10), which relate to kin and pets, may invoke reference to nurturing and care involved in their maintenance. Notice that the type of kin who are ‘had’ in the available examples are always close relatives, typically children. No ‘have’ clauses involve possession of kin such as cousins, mother-in-laws, and the like, relatives who one does not normally nurture. This nuance may perhaps also be relevant to the existential sense of (12): it is surely significant that all such examples refer to natural species, not inanimate objects, and natural species are generally considered to be propagated through the performance of increase rites; they are also likely to be actively engaged with as sources of sustenance, for the benefit of people.9 Similarly, active engagement appears to be involved in the final category in Figure 1: either through mentation, bodily, or social activity. Next, observe that virtually all “possessions’’ represented in ‘have’ clauses are temporary, non-intrinsic, and/or non-characteristic. This is uncontentious
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for all but the three highest points covered by the ‘have’ verbs on the scale of Figure 1. Let us examine these problematic cases. Bodily manifestations are rather like held items, except that they are not actively held under the control of the person; nor (prototypically) are they held in the hand. However, they almost always refer to temporary conditions lasting only for a short period of time, including feelings of sickness (as in (9)); blisters, sores and the like; ticks (which of course die, drop off, etc.); and fontanelles (that soon close up). These uses are consistent with the suggestion that the clause does indeed refer to a situation, that it does construe a certain chunk of “reality’’ not just as a pair of entities that are related together by some abstract associative relation, but as mutually interacting in some circumstantial context. Parts of the body also show a pattern consistent with the proposals. As we have seen, the body part Ns that occur in the ‘have’ construction are typically the less inalienable ones such as hair, beards, and teeth. They are almost always attachments that are not intrinsic to the animate being’s persona, and many are regenerative or renewable; similarly for inanimates, particularly plants, the relevant parts of which are appendages that are grown and regenerated. In no instance is the body part referred to by a prefixing N, i.e. it is never one of the more central inalienable parts. Furthermore, in the few cases in which the body part is higher on the scale of inalienability, the N designating it is invariably modified in some way (as in (2)), indicating that some special quality obtains for it. In other words, it is only when there is something atypical or exceptional about inalienable body parts that we find representation by a ‘have’ clause. These are precisely the conditions under which we would expect construal as a situation. To sum up, it seems clear that the types of things that are represented as possessions in ‘have’ clauses are consistent with the claim that the clause does designate a situation in the real world; something is asserted to be happening or going on at some point in time. Such clauses do more than just establish an associative relationship between two entities. Mere possessive associations (to the exclusion of on-going activities) are expressed, in Nyulnyulan languages, by verbless modes of expression. Although these cover much of the same range of items that are covered by ‘have’ clauses, there are two significant differences. First, verbless clauses do not extend to the final two points of the scale in Figure 1, where the distance is greatest and some sort of engagement of the subject with the object is apparently essential. And second, verbless clauses are used in the expression of possessive relations of the closest types, not expressed
have in Nyulnyulan languages
by the ‘have’ verb: the closest inalienable aspects of the personal domain, and the most inalienable of the parts of the body, that is, just those circumstances in which the associative relationship is normally a given, and not in need of maintenance, and where it characterises the possessor. This is illustrated by the following examples: (17) djugudodo wo¯r-njer jukududu wurr-nyirr reef.fish horn-comit ‘The reef-fish has a horn’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 499)
Jabirrjabirr
(18) mo¯ge mo¯g nimid ginjig ba¯b Jabirrjabirr, Nyulnyul muka-muk ni-mid kinyingk baab lame-lame 3.sg-leg that child ‘That child has a lame leg’ (Nekes and Worms 1953: 726)
But even something as characteristic and permanent as the spines of an echidna, or a scar on a person, can be represented as possessions in ‘have’ clauses, as (19) and (20) show. Construal of such associations in situations is possible where there is a focus on the acquisition of the possession: (19) comes from a traditional story explaining how the echidna got its spines, and (20) explains the having of the scar in terms of a prior accident. (19) kana yi-m-bika-n mangul-junu spike 3.sg.nom-en-have-pres spear-abl ‘She’s (still) got spikes from the spears’ (Stokes 1982: 101)
Nyikina
(20) laanbirr nga-laba-n. nail-nim Bardi scar 1.sg.nom-have-pres nail-erg i-na-m-boo-na-ngayoo moorrooloo-marr ngayoo. 3.sg.nom-tr-en-hit-pa-1.min.acc little-temp 1.sg.nom ‘I have got a scar. A nail poked me when I was little’ (Aklif 1991)
The important point is not that there are certain possessions that cannot possibly be represented by ‘have’ clauses, and others that cannot be represented by verbless expressions. Rather, it is a matter of representation, and as a consequence, involves considerations of probability: certain representations are simply more likely given the way the material and social worlds are structured, and conceptualised by speakers. And in those cases where both verbal and verbless expression of possession are, let us say, about equally likely — for the middle ranges of Figure 1 — we expect to find semantic contrasts
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between expression by ‘have’ and by verbless clauses that relate in some way to the fundamental difference between situational and non-situational representation. I submit that this is indeed the case, though limitations of space prevent me from arguing the case in detail. Suffice it to say that verbless modes of expression such as (17) represent such more distantly associated possessions as characteristic properties of their possessors, whilst other types serve to identify them as another individual’s possession. In both circumstances it is clear that reference is not being made to on-going situations. Contrasting ‘have’ expression with verbless modes of expression underlines the central thesis of this paper, that ‘have’ is not a copula, but a fully meaningful verb that refers to a process and occurs in a clause denoting a situation. This winds up the case for treating the verb ‘have’ in Nyulnyulan languages as a full transitive verb in all of its uses — despite its formal intransitivity — one that is never used as a possessive copula. The only qualification that needs to be added is that the Warrwa ‘have’ verb -BA shows — unlike the ‘have’ verbs of other Nyulnyulan languages — marginal use as a type of “auxiliary’’ verb. This is nothing like the perfect auxiliary have of English, French, and other Indo-European languages, and is not reminiscent of a copula usage. Rather, what have sometimes been referred to as auxiliary verbs in Nyulnyulan languages occur (as mentioned previously) in compound verb constructions, in collocation with uninflecting verbal “particles’’, in which constructions they serve as verbal classifiers, indicating the type of process being referred to. In Warrwa just three such collocations are attested for -BA ‘have’, with miird ‘hold in hand’, nganybu ‘hold by hand’, and kuk ‘be/remain quiet, silent’.
. Conclusion The various interpretations of the ‘have’ verb in Nyulnyulan languages are, I submit, etic contextualisations of a single invariant inherent meaning. There is a single monosemous verb ‘have’ in each language, that admits a considerable range of contextual senses; the verb is not polysemous. Even if it derives historically from a verb meaning ‘hold’ or ‘grasp’, this is not a satisfactory gloss for the verbs in the modern languages. The verbal lexemes -BAKAND, -BIKA, -BI, -BA, -LABA, and -LEBANBAD do not mean ‘hold’ in the sense that this is not a good characterisation of their inherent meaning. Their inherent meaning is more abstract, and better glossed as ‘have’, the ‘hold’ and ‘keep’ senses being
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contextually engendered, superimposed from the surrounding discourse and environment onto the abstract relational sense. Although I have not attempted to specify the inherent meaning of these ‘have’ verbs precisely, I have suggested that two components are crucial: (i) there must be some sort of “association’’ between the referents of the two arguments, the subject and object (see also Benveniste 1960/1971: 172, who argues that avoir serves to establish an extrinsic relation between the two entities); and (ii) this association must be construable as temporally, spatially, or actively locatable within a situation. A third component that has not been discussed in this paper, but is clearly necessary, is (iii) the association must be asymmetric. An important corollary is that there is no need to postulate a distinct ‘have’-type verbal possessive construction in Nyulnyulan languages. The meaning of a clause with the verb ‘have’ can be accounted for compositionally, in terms of the meaning of the transitive clause construction, the meaning of the lexical verb ‘have’, and the meanings of the other lexical and grammatical units in the clause. Clauses with the verb ‘have’ serve merely as vehicles for the expression of predicative possession; they are not predicative possession constructions. It follows that the associative link between the subject and object is a semantic one specified by the lexical verb of having; it is not represented by an emic-grammatical relation between the NPs designating the two entities. Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs show some striking differences from their IndoEuropean counterparts, including English have and French avoir. They are fully transitive in terms of the clause type they slot into, and their crossreferencing morphological potentials, as against the pseudo-transitive status of the corresponding clauses with ‘have’ verbs in Indo-European languages (Benveniste 1960/1971: 169). On the other hand, as verbs they show (in all languages other than Bardi) reduced transitivity at the lexical level, and this irrespective of whether their ‘have’ or the ‘hold’ senses are invoked. Overall, Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs give the impression of being rather more dynamic than verbs such as avoir and have, referred to by Benveniste (1960/1971: 171) as stative verbs of possession. The scattered references to predicative possession in the literature on Australian languages tend to suggest that the typical means of expression is by verbless clauses involving an NP representing the possessor along with a comitative-marked N (or NP) representing the possessum, as in Jabirrjabirr example (17) above. Nevertheless, examination of available materials reveals that a fair number of Australian languages have one or more verbs that in certain environments admit a ‘have’ interpretation, to the exclusion of a
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material ‘hold’ or ‘grasp’ sense. These include, among others, the non-PamaNyungan languages Gooniyandi, Jaminjung, Wambaya, Ndjébbana, Mangarrayi, Murriny-Patha, and Warray, and the Pama-Nyungan languages Jaru, Karajarri, Mangala, Arrernte, and Baakandji. Various questions arise. To begin with, are the ‘have’ verbs usable as copulas in any of these languages, or are they always “full’’ verbs designating processes? Second, is the verb “basically’’ a ‘have’ verb, or one of holding or acquisition? In most languages the verb also admits the stative ‘hold’ sense, and sometimes, as in Murriny-Patha, and possibly Jukun (see above), an even more active ‘take’ or ‘grasp’ sense. Careful investigations will doubtless reveal marked differences among the languages in terms of the uses they put these verbs to, as well as their inherent meanings. Thus, I suspect that in some languages the ‘hold’ or ‘take’ senses may well be inherent, and the ‘have’ contextually engendered. This is almost certainly the case for the Gooniyandi verb goorij-, which — in stark contrast to the Nyulnyulan ‘have’ verbs — is only rarely used in non-material senses, usually only in respect of kin. It is hoped that this paper will stimulate Australianists to investigate these fascinating verbs of possession, along with other modes of expressing predicative possession, and address the questions of the semantic contrasts among them, and their appropriate grammatical analyses.
Acknowledgements This is a revised version of a paper presented to the International Workshop on ‘Possession’, Copenhagen Business School, 28–30 May 1998. I am grateful to the audience for a number of useful comments, and to Kari Fraurud and Anne-Marie Spanoghe for insightful comments on earlier drafts. The usual disclaimers apply. My fieldwork on Nyulnyulan languages was supported by grants from the Australian Research Council (Grant A58930745 and A59332055), the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies, the National Aboriginal Languages Program, and the Max-Planck-Institut für Psycholinguistik, Nijmegen. My greatest debts are, of course, to my language instructors, Maudie Lennard (Warrwa), †Carmel Charles (Nyulnyul) and †Freddy Marker (Warrwa).
Notes . The main sources of data are: my own field notes on Nyulnyul and Warrwa; Stokes 1982 for Nyikina; Hosokawa 1991 and 1995 for Yawuru; Metcalfe 1975 and Aklif 1991 for Bardi;
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and Nekes and Worms 1953 for Bardi, Nyulnyul, Jabirrjabirr, Nimanburru, Yawuru, and Nyikina. . This verb form is cited in Nekes and Worms 1953, but is not attested elsewhere. . The following abbreviations are used: abl – ablative; acc – accusative; ag – agentive suffix (like English -er); aug – augmented number; comit – comitative; dat – dative; emp – emphatic; en – epenthetic nasal; erg – ergative; fut – future; imp – imperfective; irr – irrealis; loc – locative; min – minimal number; nom – nominative; obl – oblique; pa – past tense; pl – plural; pres – present tense; rel – relative verbal suffix; sg – singular; temp – temporal; tr – marker of transitive conjugation (na in most languages). The first three integers indicate the three person categories, first, second and third. Root forms of inflecting verbs are cited in all capitals; otherwise all Nyulnyulan words cited are given in italics. Reference is provided to the sources of all examples other than those from my own corpora. Free translations of examples enclosed in double quotes represent the wording of the source. Words are cited in the practical orthography I have elsewhere adopted — e.g. McGregor (1996) and McGregor (1999a). Examples from Nekes and Worms (1953) are presented first in the orthographic style of the source, in IPA font, and then in the practical orthography. Morpheme divisions are my own. . There are at least three possible sources of the conjugation marker in modern Nyulnyulan languages, all of which point to the na conjugation class going back to transitive verbs, the Ø class to intransitive verbs. . Actually, I have been able to find no such examples in which the part is a “true’’ emic inalienable, that is to say, is represented by a prefixing nominal (see McGregor 1995). However, cheeks are certainly etically-semantically high on the scale of inalienability. . It will be observed that this also applies to sharks’ teeth, as would certainly have been known to the coastal Nyulnyul people, see (2) above. Moreover, this example also shows modification of the part by a nominal indicating a non-inherent, impermanent, quality. . Although he does not use the term “copula’’ in reference to ‘have’ verbs in IndoEuropean languages, Benveniste (1960/1971: 169) makes essentially this point when he observes that “[t]here can be no transitive relation between the subject and object of avoir such that the notion might be assumed to pass over to the object and modify it. A “to have’’ verb does not state any process.’’ . (16) might also be compared with (4) above, which forms a near minimal pair with it, showing the same conceptual distance between possessor and possessum, though exhibiting the ‘hold’ sense of -BA ‘have’. In (4), significantly, (ii) does not hold — the rivets had not been mentioned in the previous discussion, and furthermore are not prominent in the drawing (the same one that (16) describes), and are not expected as agents. . For this reason it also seems unlikely that a ‘have’ clause designating the possession of kin other than those that are nurtured would be possible with the ‘Items existing within one’s domain’ interpretation. Thus, for example, ‘We have mother-in-laws in this country’ should be unlikely semantically for the same reason that ‘I have a mother-in-law’ would be — in Australian cultures generally one is expected to maintain physical and social distance from a mother-in-law, and not engage in close interaction.
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References Aklif, G. 1991. Bardi material. Electronic Archive Files. Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. Bates, D.M. nd. Native vocabularies — Sunday Island. Typescript, Australian National Library. Section 12, 2E: 6. ANL-MS365–53/41–81. Benveniste, E. 1960/1971. “The linguistic functions of ‘to be’ and ‘to have’ ’’. In Problems in general linguistics, E. Benveniste (ed.), 163–179. [Translated by Mary Meek.] Coral Gables: University of Miami Press. Chappell, H. and McGregor, W. B. (eds). 1995. The grammar of inalienability: a typological perspective on body part terms and the part–whole relation. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Heine, B. 1997. Possession: cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hosokawa, K. 1991. The Yawuru language of West Kimberley: a meaning-based description. PhD thesis, Australian National University. Hosokawa, K. 1995. “‘My face am burning!’: quasi-passive, body parts, and related issues in Yawuru grammar and cultural concepts’’. In H. Chappell and W. B. McGregor (eds), 1996: 155–192. Lyons, J. 1968. Introduction to theoretical linguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. McGregor, W. B. 1985. “Body parts in Kuniyanti clause grammar’’. Australian Journal of Linguistics 5: 209–232. McGregor, W. B. 1995. “Nominal prefixing in Nyulnyul’’. In H. Chappell and W. B. McGregor (eds), 1996: 251–292. McGregor, W. B. 1996. Nyulnyul. Munich: Lincom Europa. McGregor, W. B. 1997. Semiotic grammar. Oxford: Clarendon Press. McGregor, W. B. 1998. ‘‘ ‘Optional’ ergative marking in Gooniyandi revisited: implications to the theory of marking’’. Leuvense Bijdragen 87: 491–534. McGregor, W. B. 1999a. “External possession constructions in Nyulnyulan languages’’. In External possession, D. Payne and I. Barshi (eds), 429–448. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. McGregor, W. B. 1999b. Focal and non-focal ergative marking in Warrwa. Seminar given to Department of Linguistics, University of Groningen, November 1999, and typescript, Max-Planck-Institut für Psycholinguistik, Nijmegen. Metcalfe, C. D. 1975. Bardi verb morphology. Canberra: Pacific Linguistics. Nekes, H. and Worms, E. A. 1953. Australian languages. Fribourg: Anthropos Institut. Stokes, B. 1982. A description of Nyigina: a language of the West Kimberley, Western Australia. PhD thesis, Australian National University.
Chapter 5
Semantics of the verb have Irène Baron and Michael Herslund
.
Introduction
The verb have establishes a possessive relation between two entities (Seiler 1983: 62 ff.).1 Following the description of Benveniste (1966: 199) we consider the verb have, as illustrated by French avoir, as an inverted version of the expression être à. Sentences of the type X avoir Y (e.g. Charles a une maison ‘Charles has a house’) correspond to Y être à X (e.g. La maison est à Charles ‘The house is (belongs) to Charles’). The difference has to do with the fact that with avoir the expression of the possessor has passed from the status of object of a locative preposition to that of subject of the sentence: it denotes the entity about which the sentence is asserted. In other words we consider the notion of ‘possession’ to have its origin in the primitive notion of ‘existence’ (La maison est/existe ‘The house is/exists’) which first developed into ‘location’ (La maison est (située) à Biarritz ‘The house is (situated) in Biarritz’), then into ‘belonging’ (La maison est à Charles ‘The house is (belongs) to Charles’) and finally into ‘ownership’ (Charles a une maison ‘Charles has a house’).2 In this sense one can say that a verb have has emerged in order to allow the abstract conceptualisation and expression of a local relation. Moreover, have like be from which it is in some sort derived, does not denote a process like most transitive verbs but a state, that of the subject. And the prototypical state is precisely a location (e.g. The house is in Brighton/in the forest/on the hill . . .). On the local dimension of the verb have, see further Lyons (1967, 1968); Clark (1978); Freeze (1992); Sørensen (1997a); Baron and Herslund (1997a, b). We will argue that the fundamental meaning of have is a local relation. The exact nature of this relation will then depend upon the semantic link between subject and object. As we shall see, this link always has the nature of a denotative inclusion, i.e. a relation where the denotation of the object noun is included in the denotation of the subject noun. The inclusion can be of three kinds:
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a. The object noun is part of a part–whole relation (e.g. roof–house). This is the case when the object is a relational noun, i.e. a noun which needs a complementary term in order to be properly identified (Benveniste 1974: 151; Seiler 1983: 13; Herslund 1996: 39), as in (1): (1) The house has a thatched roof.
b. The object noun denotes part of the subject noun’s possessions (e.g. house — Charles), which is typically the case when the subject is animate and the object is a non-relational noun:3 (2) Charles has a house.
c. The object noun constitutes one of the semantic features of the subject noun so that the two form a chain of isotopic inclusion (Greimas 1966: 69 ff.). This semantic feature can be either a seme (e.g. worker – factory, a factory being distinct from e.g. a bank or a restaurant in that it employs workers), or a sub-function as in bed – flat: the main function of a flat is living there and one of the sub-functions is sleeping, which is also the function of a bed (cf. the notion of Telic Role as a component of a noun’s Qualia-structure in Pustejovsky 1995: 85 ff.): (3) a. The factory has two hundred workers. b. Maureen’s flat has three beds.
We thus have two levels: 1. A fundamental ‘local’ level where the object is merely located with respect to the subject. 2. A superimposed inclusional level where the denotation of the object noun is semantically included in the denotation of the subject noun. The lexeme have, by locating the object with respect to the subject, actualises the denotative inclusion, and it is thus the combination of these two levels which allows us to speak of possession and paraphrase e.g. example (1) above in the following way: (1¹) ‘With respect to the house the thatched roof is located in a part–whole relation’
Now have-clauses allow adverbial expansions which also have a locative content, e.g. Charles has a house in Brighton. In such cases the object which is located with respect to the subject by way of have, is further located with
Semantics of the verb HAVE
respect to a new place by way of a preposition, the new place thereby being also in some way located with respect to the subject. So Brighton in the above example is placed in a relevance relation with respect to Charles: it is the place where his house is located. In what follows we shall use the term sub-place to denote such adverbial expansions, which constitute cases of what Heine (1997: 156 ff., 190 ff.) calls “specification’’ of the possessive relation. In the same way as a relation of denotative inclusion specifies the local relation between subject and object established by have, it will define the relation established between subject, object and sub-place. This inclusion can be seen as the filling of a slot in the denotation of the subject. In sentences without a sub-place, it is the denotation of the object which fills the slot. In sentences with a sub-place specification, it is either the denotation of the object noun or that of the sub-place which fills the slot opened in the denotation of the subject noun. These different possibilities determine the different combinations we are going to discuss in the present article. What is important to underline from the outset is that the denotative inclusion is organised in terms of a hierarchy where it is always either the object or the sub-place which is denotatively included in the subject, never the other way around. This hierarchy already appeared in constructions without an adverbial specification: if we have The house has a thatched roof, where ‘roof ’ is a part of the whole, ‘house’, cf. (1), we cannot have *A thatched roof has a house.4 A similar organisation is found, as we are going to see, when have-sentences contain adverbial specifications: the subject always includes either the object or the sub-place, the object never includes anything. Our aim is to show that the inclusional hierarchy is superimposed upon the basic local relations to which it is intimately linked. Since the constituents concerned are grammatical entities, our study will at the same time deepen our general understanding of the grammatical relations, subject and object. We shall illustrate our study with examples from Danish, because Danish, for structural reasons, seems to illustrate the results of our analysis most readily, in spite of the nevertheless universal character of the findings. We shall distinguish two kinds of situations depending on whether the subject simply includes one of the other two constituents or on whether there exists a more complex relationship between the three. In the first case we speak of simple inclusion (Section 2), in the second of complex inclusion (Section 3). We shall finally study to what extent the transposition of a have-sentence to a noun phrase with a genitive confirms the existence of inclusion relations (Section 4).5
Irène Baron and Michael Herslund
. Simple Inclusion It is important to specify that there is only one available slot in the inclusional space defined by the subject. This can be seen as a parallel to the fact that at the local level the subject of have needs an “argument’’, and only one, the object, in order to be conceived as a place: an entity does not become a place until something is located with respect to it, this something constituting an argument of the place function (Guillet and Leclère 1992; Baron and Herslund 1997a: 135). In the same way the inclusional space needs an element it can include in order to establish a semantic link which will specify the exact nature of the fundamental local relation. And just as the subject cannot play its role as ‘place’ without its argument, the unique slot in the inclusional space cannot remain vacuous: it must by necessity be filled either by the object or by the sub-place. . The Subject includes the Object In the following examples: (4) a.
Carl har et hus i Brighton. Carl has a house in Brighton ‘Carl has a house in Brighton’ b. Banken har en filial i provinsen. Bank-def has a branch in province-def ‘The bank has a branch in the province’
hus ‘house’ in (4a) is part of the possessions of Carl, and filial ‘branch’ in (4b) is a relational noun which, in order to be properly identified, needs a complementary term, bank, which contitutes the whole. The object nouns hus and filial are thus both included in the denotation of the subject as being owned by a person or being part of a whole, respectively. This case can be illustrated in the following way: (5) Subject
Object
Sub-place
The sub-place is not included in the subject and the relation between subject and object is the same as in sentences without a sub-place.
Semantics of the verb HAVE
. The Subject Includes the Sub-Place If the subject includes the sub-place it cannot at the same time include the object in its denotation because, as stated above, there is only one slot available in the space it defines. The inclusion relation between subject and object is so to speak blocked. And as the object is not included there is ipso facto no semantic relation between the two which allows a more precise definition of the location denoted by have. The only relation expressed between subject and object remains the local one, i.e. a simple location without any inclusional link. The denotative inclusion between subject and sub-place can be a part– whole relation (e.g. hånd ‘hand’ — Marie) as in (6a), or it can be an ownership relation (e.g. bil ‘car’ — Anne) as in (6b): (6) a.
Marie har en tepotte i hånden. Marie has a teapot in hand-def ‘Marie has a teapot in her hand’ b. Anne har en puddelhund i bilen. Anne has a poodle in car-def ‘Anne has a poodle in her car’
The object noun tepotte ‘teapot’ or puddelhund ‘poodle’, whereas still being the argument of the subject-as-place to which it is linked by way of have, is nothing more than just an element which is further located by way of a preposition with respect to the entity included in the subject, i.e. the subplace. The blocking of the inclusion relation between subject and object becomes evident in cases where the object noun is a term which can be either relational or non-relational with respect to the subject, such as barn ‘child’. In this case only the non-relational reading is possible because the subject’s capacity of acting as complementary term in a part–whole relation is saturated by the sub-place. So barn ‘child’ in example (7): (7)
Julie har et barn på skødet. Julie has a child on lap-def ‘Julie has a child on her lap’
is in a non-specified relation with Julie: it can be anybody’s child, whereas in examples such as Julie har et barn ‘Julie has a child’ or Julie har et barn i Fredericia ‘Julie has a child in Fredericia’ it is by necessity Julie’s child, the noun acquiring a relational reading. As it appears, the sub-place wins in cases of rivalry with the object regarding the available slot in the subject’s denotation. This is because at the level of
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local relations the sub-place, as its name indicates, is a place located with respect to another place, the subject. The two have the same argument, the object, in common. The location of the sub-place is reflected at the inclusional level where it is the sub-place’s denotation which occupies the empty slot in the space defined by the subject. The object has to hold back: it is first of all an argument shared by the two places and it is only designated to fill the available slot when there is no competing sub-place. The inclusion of the sub-place can be depicted like this: (8) Subject
Sub-place
Object
. Complex Inclusion As illustrated, the only available slot in the inclusional space defined by the subject has obligatorily to be filled by another constituent. We can here again distinguish two types of situations: two-step inclusion and twofold inclusion. . Two-Step Inclusion This is the case where the object noun is either a relational term (e.g. wart) included in a sub-place which is also a relational term (e.g. nose), cf. (9a), or the denotation of the object noun constitutes a semantic feature of the subplace (e.g. bed–flat), which denotes a belonging of the subject, cf. (9b). There is consequently an inclusion on two levels: it is no longer the object alone, but the entity ‘object-in-a-sub-place’ which enters into a part–whole or an ownership relation with the subject. It is because the object is included in the denotation of the sub-place that the object and the sub-place together as a single entity can fill the available slot in the inclusional space defined by the subject. The examples of (9) then have the paraphrases of (9’): (9) a.
Paul har en vorte på næsen. Paul has a wart on nose-def ‘Paul has a wart on his nose’ b. Dorte har tre senge i lejligheden. Dorte has three beds in flat-def ‘Dorte has three beds in her flat’
Semantics of the verb HAVE
(9¹) a.
‘With respect to Paul a wart on the nose is located in a part–whole relation’ b. ‘With respect to Dorte three beds in the flat are located in an ownership relation’
The situation can be depicted as follows: (10) Subject
Object
Sub-place
. Twofold Inclusion A new subdivision is necessary here in order to show the two variants of this type of inclusion. There is first the case where the object is included both in the subject and in the sub-place. This is the case in (11a) and (11b): (11) a.
Marie har en søn i skolen. Marie has a son in school-def ‘Marie has a son in the school’ b. Anne har en angorakat på katteudstillingen. Anne has a Persian cat at cat show-def ‘Anne has a Persian cat at the cat show’
On the one hand the relational term søn ‘son’ is in a reciprocal relation with Marie, the mother, and angorakat ‘Persian cat’, being a domestic animal, establishes an ownership relation with Anne.6 On the other, søn and angorakat both constitute semantic features of the respective sub-places which do not represent parts of the subjects: søn is a constitutive part, a seme, of the semantic description of skole ‘school’, which denotes an institution attended by children, i.e. the sons and daughters of people; and angorakat likewise constitutes a subset of the defining features of katteudstilling ‘cat show’, which denotes a place where different kinds and breeds of cats are exhibited, cf. paragraph c. of 1. above. But neither skole nor katteudstilling are in any way included in the subject. We can describe this variant of the twofold inclusion by the following picture:
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(12) Subject
Object
Sub-place
As the verb have is a state verb, as mentioned in the introduction, it cannot ordinarily signify that someone performs an action and consequently it cannot combine with an object in the sense of ‘create’. The sentence Charles has a house thus cannot express that Charles has built or designed the house, only that he possesses it, cf. Pustejovsky’s idea that a verb ‘coerces’ its object into the semantic type it is expected to combine with (1995: 106 ff.). But this limitation does not apply to cases of twofold inclusion, as can be seen in (13a) and (13b): (13) a.
Peter har to billeder på maleriudstillingen. Peter has two pictures at exhibition-def ‘Peter has two pictures at the exhibition’ b. Janne har en artikel om possession i Language. Janne has an article on possession in Language ‘Janne has an article on possession in Language’
Here we have creator relations between subject and object: the pictures are painted by Peter and the article is written by Janne. The adverbial expansion consequently influences the relation between subject and object because of the isotopic inclusion of the object in the sub-place: an art exhibition is a place where painters exhibit the works they have created and Language is a journal which contains articles by different authors. The inherent features of billeder ‘pictures’ and artikel ‘article’, a painted and a written entity, respectively and hence created by an agent, are so to speak actualised by the semantic features of the sub-place. In order to verify this conclusion it is sufficient to replace the sub-place by an entity which does not form an isotopic chain with the object. Then the relation between subject and object changes and the creator relation is again excluded: (14) Peter har to billeder over kaminen. Peter has two pictures over fire-place-def ‘Peter has two pictures above the fire-place’
The second variety of the twofold inclusion situation is the case when object
Semantics of the verb HAVE
and sub-place are both relational terms denoting inalienable parts with respect to the subject such as body parts: (15) Lise har en hånd på knæet. Lise has a hand on knee-def ‘Lise has one hand on her knee’
Such terms are equally included in the subject and consequently share the available slot. We get the following illustration: (16) Subject
Object
Sub-place
Whereas in (12) we had a single entity shared by two other entities, we here have the inverse situation: two entities share the only available slot included in a larger entity. We have now seen the different kinds of inclusion which occur between the three constituents joined together by have. Irrespective of whether the inclusion relation is simple or complex, its existence is nevertheless necessary in order to speak about possession. If no inclusion between the subject and one of the other constituents can be identified, a sentence with have becomes impossible to interpret, viz.: (17) *The lamp has a stone in the hand. *The garden has two pictures at the art exhibition.
The existence of an inclusion relation can further be verified by transposing the have-sentence into a noun phrase. This then constitutes an inclusion test, as we shall see now.
. Noun phrases as inclusion tests Whereas the relations containing a sub-place mentioned so far can be asserted in have-sentences, they cannot all be expressed in the reduced manner of a genitival noun phrase. Thus the nominal construction always presupposes an inclusion between subject and object. It can be an ownership relation, a part–
Irène Baron and Michael Herslund
whole relation, a creator relation, etc. (Baron 1995: 46 f.; Müller 1997; Sørensen 1997b: 121 f.), but whatever its nature, the existence of such a relation is indispensable in order to transpose a have-sentence into a noun phrase. The nominal expressions in (18) are unproblematic because the corresponding verbal constructions all contain an inclusion, simple or complex, between subject and object: (18) a.
Simple ownership relation: Carl har et hus i Brighton. Carl has a house in Brighton ‘Carl has a house in Brighton’ Carls hus i Brighton Carl-gen house in Brighton ‘Carl’s house in Brighton’ b. Complex part–whole relation: Paul har en vorte på næsen. Paul has a wart on nose-def ‘Paul has a wart on his nose’ Pauls vorte på næsen Paul-gen wart on nose-def ‘Paul’s wart on his nose’ c. Complex creator relation: Anne har en artikel om possession i Language. Anne has an article on possession in Language ‘Anne has an article on possession in Language’ Annes artikel om possession i Language Anne-gen article on possession in Language ‘Anne’s article on possession in Language’
On the other hand the noun phrases of (19) are unacceptable because they are transpositions of sentences in which the inclusion relation between subject and object is blocked by the inclusion existing between subject and sub-place (cf. Section 2.2): (19) a.
Marie har en tepotte i hånden. Marie has a teapot in hand-def ‘Marie has a teapot in her hand’ *Maries tepotte i hånden Marie-gen teapot in hand-def ‘Marie’s teapot in her hand’
Semantics of the verb HAVE
b. Anne har en puddelhund i bilen. Anne has a poodle in car-def ‘Anne has a poodle in her car’ *Annes puddelhund i bilen Anne-gen poodle in car-def ‘Anne’s poodle in her car’ c. Julie har et barn på skødet. Julie has a child on lap-def ‘Julie has a child on her lap’ *Julies barn på skødet Julie-gen child on lap-def ‘Julie’s child on her lap’
The noun phrases can thus be seen as tests revealing the exact nature of the relations between the constituents of a have-sentence. While *Julies barn på skødet ‘Julie’s child on the (her) lap’ is unacceptable when the lap is Julie’s, the noun phrase becomes acceptable when the lap belongs to someone else, viz. (Anne sad med) Julies barn på skødet ‘(Anne was sitting with) Julie’s child on the (her) lap’. The same way of reasoning applies of course to the a. and b. examples of (19).
. Conclusion The subject of a have-sentence is the place with respect to which the object, i.e. the place argument, and a possible sub-place are located. A similar organisation is characteristic of the inclusion relations between the three constituents: the possessor always includes the possessum or the sub-place (or both at the same time). From a grammatical point of view the fact that the subject always includes something and that the object never includes anything matches this other fact that one has on the one hand a constituent of which the rest of the sentence is predicated: the subject, which is thus the element necessary to form a proposition (subject + predicate = proposition). On the other hand, there is a constituent, the object, so closely linked to the verb that it forms with it a syntactic predicate (Herslund and Sørensen 1994: 83 ff.). Since the object is the “fundamental argument’’ of the verb, it cannot include denotatively an “external argument’’. The predicate forming constituent is in this sense truly an “internal argument’’ (Grimshaw 1990).
Irène Baron and Michael Herslund
The hierarchy we mentioned in the introduction when speaking of the inclusion relations is found, then, at every one of the following levels: (20) Local: Place > Sub-place Inclusional: Possessor > Sub-place Grammatical: Subject > Sub-place
> > >
Argument Possessum Object
The three constituents show an identical ranking at the three levels. At the local level, the argument and a possible sub-place are situated with respect to the place. At the inclusional level, the possessum or the sub-place, or both at the same time, cf. (10) and (16), are included in the possessor. These semantic facts are finally mirrored at the grammatical level, where the object first constitutes a predicate with the verb have; this predicate is then expanded by the adverbial sub-place, and finally combined with the subject thus forming a proposition. It is the local hierarchy which is fundamental in the sense that it explains the presence of a single available slot in the inclusional space defined by the subject (cf. 2.), and it is also this level which justifies that in case of competition for this slot between the sub-place and the object it is always the sub-place which wins (cf. 2.2). The opposite is never the case: the inclusional hierarchy can never account for the local hierarchy. And the fact that location is a constructed notion — an entity does not become a place until something is located with respect to it — makes possession — i.e. location + denotative inclusion — a constructed notion too: nothing is a possessor until something acts as argument with respect to it, becomes a possessum. In other words, Charles of (2) Charles has a house, does not become a possessor until a house is located in an ownership relation to him. To recapitulate, we can say that the local hierarchy is fundamental with respect to the inclusional hierarchy, which is reflected in the grammatical organisation of the sentence: the constituent which is necessary for the formation of a proposition, the subject, is always the one which includes another element, whereas the predicate constituting element, the object, is always included. In this way, possessive sentences with have contribute towards underlining and explaining the asymmetry between subject and object which is generally found in all kinds of sentences.
Notes . These two entities have to be distinct. We consider expressions such as John has a proposal as intransitive verb constructions where has a proposal is a support verb structure
Semantics of the verb HAVE
and which, in spite of the common ground of the verb have, should not be treated as possession. Neither should e.g. the auxiliary and causative uses of have. . On this evolution, see among many others Lyons (1967: 392), Herslund (1988: 282 ff.), Baron (1997). Germanic languages such as English and Danish differ from French in that these languages use the genitive to express the notion of ‘belonging’: The house is Charles’. Benveniste speaks in such cases of ‘appartenance’ (1966: 196) and Seiler (1983) uses the legal term ‘appurtenance’. . Cf. Seiler’s idea (1983: 13) that have is typically used in order to establish a possessive relation, when the possessum is not inherently relational. . Such a contrast is only possible in a small number of cases where the subject is a collective noun and the object is a member of the set denoted by the subject noun, e.g. The class has a good teacher. By interchanging the subject and the object, viz. The teacher has a good class, one makes the assertion about the semantically included entity that this entity has as part of its universe or simply possesses the collective entity of which it is a member. One thereby goes from a part–whole relation at the lexical level to a “part of possessions’’ inclusion of the ‘Charles has a house’ type at the level of assertion. . In the examples we discuss the object is indefinite and the sub-place is definite. This corresponds with the most frequent usage in non-metaphorical examples which we have chosen to concentrate on here. Contrary to English, Danish uses the definite article when the sub-place is seen as included in the subject, viz. Hun har et barn på skødet vs. She has a child on her lap. The definite article is in such cases motivated by the associative anaphoric relation between the subject phrase and the sub-place. When the sub-place is not included in the subject phrase its definite article must be motivated by an anaphoric relation to the wider context, viz. Hun har et barn i skolen ‘She has a child in the school’ (Baron and Herslund 1997a: 139). Notice incidentally that have-clauses with definite objects reveal the locative nature of have since such clauses can constitute answers to where-questions: Where are the children? — John has the children/them, cf. Wierzbicka (1988: 345). . We assimilate in this context kinship relations to part–whole relations, cf. Baron and Herslund (1997a: 142f.).
References Baron, I. 1995. “Complex Noun Phrases in Danish. A Valency Perspective’’. In Studies in Valency I [RASK Supplement Vol. 1], L. Schøsler and M. Talbot (eds), 29–62. Odense: Odense University Press. Baron, I. 1997. “Possession in Noun Phrases: A Functional Analysis’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 115–130. Copenhagen Business School. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997a. “The Danish Verb have and the Notion of Possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 131–157. Copenhagen Business School.
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Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997b. “Place and Sub-Place: Locative Specifications in have-Clauses’’. In From Words to Utterances in LSP [Copenhagen Studies in Language 20], D. Faber and F. Sørensen (eds), 5–21. Copenhagen Business School. Benveniste, E. 1966. “‘Etre’ et ‘avoir’ dans leurs fonctions linguistiques’’. In Problèmes de linguistique générale, 176–186. Paris: Gallimard. Benveniste, E. 1974. “Fondements syntaxiques de la composition nominale’’. In Problèmes de linguistique générale II, 145–162. Paris: Gallimard. Clark, E. V. 1978. “Locationals: Existential, locative and possessive constructions’’. In Universals of Human Language [Vol.4: Syntax], J. Greenberg (ed.), 85–126. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Freeze, R. 1992. “Existentials and other locatives’’. Language 68: 553–595. Greimas, A. J. 1966. Sémantique structurale. Paris: Larousse. Grimshaw, J. 1990. Argument Structure. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press. Guillet, A. and Leclère, C. 1992. La structure des phrases simples en français. Constructions transitives locatives. Geneva-Paris: Droz. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Herslund, M. 1988. Le datif en français. Louvain-Paris: Peeters. Herslund, M. 1996. “Partitivité et possession inaliénable’’. In La relation d’appartenance. [Faits de langues 7], 33–42. Paris: Ophrys. Herslund, M. and Sørensen, F. 1994. “A Valence Based Theory of Grammatical Relations’’. In Function and Expression in Functional Grammar, E. Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds), 81–95. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Lyons, J. 1967. “A note on possessive, existential and locative sentences’’. Foundations of Language 3: 390–396. Lyons, J. 1968. “Existence, location, possession and transitivity’’. In Logic, methodology and philosophy of science III, B. van Rootselaar and J. F. Staal (eds), 495–504. Amsterdam: North-Holland. Müller, H. H. 1997. “The Danish s-genitive and related issues’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 93–114. Copenhagen Business School. Pustejovsky, J. 1995. The Generative Lexicon. Cambridge, Massachusetts: The MIT Press. Seiler, H. 1983. Possession as an operational dimension of language. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Sørensen, F. 1997a. “Possession as Location’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 158–168. Copenhagen Business School. Sørensen, F. 1997b. “The Nightmare of the Genitive’’. In The Valency of Nouns [Odense Working Papers in Language and Communication 15], K. van Durme (ed.), 119–134. Odense University. Wierzbicka, A. 1988. The Semantics of Grammar [Studies in Language Companion Series 18]. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins.
Chapter 6
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented constructions in Russian Per Durst-Andersen
.
Introduction
In the present paper I shall examine the various syntactic constructions that can be said to express possessive relationships in Russian. Two types are separated, viz. possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented constructions. The possessum-oriented construction has the Possessum Role as (inanimate) surface and/or underlying subject (cf. Fr. qc. être à qn., i.e. ‘smth. exist with smb.’), while the possessor-oriented construction has the Possessor Role as (animate) surface and/or underlying subject (cf. Fr. qn. avoir qc., i.e. ‘smb. have at his disposal smth.’). As indicated, the two construction types are not restricted to possession-based state verbs like prinadležat’ (ipf) ‘belong’ and vladet’ (ipf) ‘own’. They are also found within possession-based activity verbs like zavedovat’ (ipf) ‘manage’ and rukovodit’ (ipf) ‘lead’ as well as within possession-based action verbs like obespecˇit’ (pf)/obespecˇivat’ (ipf) ‘provide’ and snabdit’ (pf)/snabžat’ (ipf) ‘provide’. The reason for that can be traced back to the fact that, one way or the other, all three verb classes include a certain state description (cf. Durst-Andersen 1992). This means that all possession-based verbs, irrespective of verb class membership, involve a possession description that has the shape of a state description. Whereas this is self-evident in the case of state verbs, it seems less clear in the case of activity verbs and action verbs. I argue that all possession-based activity verbs logically entail a certain possessive state description. For instance, X MANAGE A SHOP logically entails X CONTROL THE SHOP (i.e. the manager’s activities are defined against the background of this state). Similarly, I argue that all possession-based action verbs imply a posssessive state description, for instance, X PROVIDE Y WITH SUCCESS implies Y HAVE SUCCESS (In Russian the truth or falsity of the state description is determined by aspect).
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In principle, the two construction types are identified by case marking: the possessum-oriented construction involves the dative (cf. Y-NOM/ACC EXIST WITH X-DAT), while the possessor-oriented construction involves the instrumental case (cf. X-NOM/ACC HAVE Y-INSTR). In other words, at this level of description it turns out that the genitive as such has nothing to do with possession. Since this might seem odd to the reader I shall start with a brief examination of the Russian case system which is regarded as the nominal analogue to the verbal category of mood, or — to put it differently — the structure of a case system is determined by the structure of the mood system (cf. Durst-Andersen 1996).
. The Russian case system The semantic system of pure case in Russian consists of six cases: the nominative, accusative, vocative, genitive, dative, and the instrumental (the locative has no place in this system, since it is used only in connection with prepositions). Just as the Russian category of mood can be divided into subcategories, viz. indicative, imperative, and subjunctive, the Russian category of case can be divided as well. I take my starting point in the distinction between “modus rectus’’ (i.e. the indicative) and “modus obliquus’’ (i.e. all other mood forms) which has been observed within Russian linguistics for decades and the distinction between direct and oblique cases which is known from the old Greek and Latin tradition (but which is not observed anymore). In the Russian case system the distinction between direct and oblique cases is not that between the nominative and all other cases, but that between the nominative and the accusative on the one hand and all other cases on the other. This appears, for instance, from the fact that both the nominative and the accusative cases are subject to the so-called genitive of negation rule (cf. Babby 1980 and Franks 1995), they behave identically with respect to numerals, and, all things being equal, they share the same morphological endings. The nominative and the accusative function just as the indicative mood which is what I prefer to call a direct mood form. As direct cases they assign the relation of equality between the copy created by the noun and the original in the situation referred to and thus signal that the person or thing denoted by the noun is indeed present in the de facto situation referred to by the verb — the nominative and the accusative signal local reference. In short, the nominative and accusative forms in Russian are not empty of semantic content: they
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
both assert local existence and both carry what can be called the Existentiator Role. All this has important implications for the presentation of new participants and for topic shift in Russian and for its text-grammatical structures in general (cf. Jansen 1998) — implications that make Russian text-grammatical structures completely different from those of English (cf. Nichols 1988). All other cases, i.e. the vocative, genitive, dative, and instrumental cases, function as non-indicative forms which are all oblique mood forms. As oblique cases the vocative, genitive, dative and the instrumental assign lack of equality between the copy named by the noun and the original in the situation referred to, and thus they signal non-local reference, i.e. the person or thing denoted by the noun having these case forms are not asserted to be present in the de facto situation. The vocative case (e.g., Mam! ‘Mommy!’, Pap! ‘Pappa!’, Len! ‘Lena!’, Saš! ‘Sasha!’, etc.) is limited more or less to first names, but it is included in the Russian case system — not only because Russian case is not understood as marking syntactic dependencies of nouns (obviously, the vocative has nothing to do with that), but also because of its high productivity among all Russians (cf. Bilý 1990). It is acquired simultaneously with the imperative mood and, not surprisingly, it functions exactly as this mood form, viz. it treats the lack of equality between the copy and the original as a matter to be changed (following the script Create an original against the background of the copy being showed to you!). In other words, the speaker requests the hearer’s local reference: he wants the hearer to come into his picture in the shape of a concrete figure (in the sense of ‘Come here’) or he wants himself to be figure in the hearer’s next picture (in the sense of ‘Look at me’). Note that the vocative case and the imperative mood not only share the same prosodic features, but also zeroendings — this can and should be taken as being a symptom of their shared content. The remaining three cases (the genitive, dative and the instrumental) function as a broad subjunctive mood: they treat the lack of equality between the copy and the original as a matter of fact, i.e. the person or thing named by one of these three oblique cases is not present in the de facto situation referred to by the noun. The difference between them seems to correspond to the distinction between objective mood (genitive) and subjective mood (dative and instrumental) — a mood distinction which is found in several Amerindian languages (cf. Whorf 1950). In Russian the distinction corresponds to outer cases (they denote outer reference or involve the objective reality) and inner cases (they denote inner reference or involve the subjective reality). If “X wishes Y’’ or if “X fears Y’’, then Y will be in the genitive case, because “Y’’ is
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not present in the situation, where “X’’ is having a wish for “Y’’ or is feeling a fear of “Y’’. In the former case, the genitive is used as a kind of desiderative (the static variant) — in the latter case as a kind of obviative (the dynamic variant). We are here dealing with objective reality, i.e. with external reality which can be touched, seen or heard: If you wish for cold weather, there is no cold weather (static use); if you fear snakes, you in fact avoid them, try to stay out of contact with them (dynamic use). The dative and the instrumental do not deal with the objective reality, but with what could be called the subjective reality, i.e. with internal reality. If “X is unfaithful to Y’’ or if “X abuses Y’’, there is no local reference in either case: in the former case “X’’ is doing something with somebody else, but not with “Y’’; in the latter case “X’’ is not doing something directly to “Y’’ — there is no contact between “X’’ and “Y’’. Therefore the accusative case is out of the question. Although they are not a direct part of the situation named by their respective verb, they are both part of another situation which belongs to internal reality. In the case of “X is unfaithful to Y’’ Y is put in the dative case, because “Y’’ is suffering indirectly from “X’s’’ behaviour or is affected mentally by it (“Y’’ carries what could be called the Male/Benefactive Role). In the case of “X abuses Y’’ Y is put in the instrumental case, because “Y’’ is used as a kind of Means — not directly, but indirectly (“Y’’ carries the so-called Victim Role — the animate counterpart of Means). In the following I attribute to each of these three oblique case forms a specific viewpoint or a particular percept that marks a relation between two entities. Section 3 and the two subsections of four will be a brief examination of the three viewpoints and their relationship to the notion of possession.
. Possession and the genitive It might be the case in other so-called case languages that the genitive has something substantial to do with possession, but in Russian the relation seems to be purely superficial and belong to what is normally called communicated content, i.e. the genitive as a grammatical form does not denote possession, but the genitive construction seen as a pragmatic tool communicates such a relationship. As the oblique case per se the genitive itself assigns non-local reference, i.e. the person or thing named by the genitive noun is not present in the situation named by the verb. The genitive involves what I shall call an extrovertive viewpoint, i.e. it denotes a relation or a direction from something near, A, to something distant, B. A is its starting point and B—the object of
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
comparison—its terminal point ((X) marks the locator and x} his vantage point): (X)x} A >—— B
Figure 1. The extrovertive viewpoint
If (X) is located in A and looks at B from A, then B must be distant from A and separated from it. In that way the genitive denotes remoteness and separation. This appears from the following examples: (1) a.
On (nom) živët v kvartire (loc) brata (gen). ‘He is living in his brother’s appartment’ b. On (nom) živët na/v kvartire (loc) u brata (gen). ‘He is living together with his brother in his appartment’
In (1a) there is no local reference, i.e. his brother is not present in the situation referred to. (1b) is an instance of the general rule that all prepositions presuppose local reference and therefore we get the meaning “near distance’’. The fact that not only linguists, but also Russian people feel a certain possessive-like relation in certain genitive contexts can be explained by the extrovertive viewpoint combined with a human being as starting point and a lack of dynamicity. If one says dom (nom) brata (gen) ’my brother’s house’, one in fact separates “house’’ from “all my brother’s belongings’’ in order to focus one’s attention on the house. What triggers the genitive form brata ‘brother’s’ is not that “house’’ is included in the set of all his belongings, but that something has been removed and excluded. In other words, the genitive does not involve possession sensu stricto, but due to the fact that exclusion presupposes inclusion, people attach the presupposed content to the genitive. That the genitive has nothing substantial to do with possession and that the relation of the genitive to possession is established not by language, but by people themselves whereby the relationship can be said to belong to communicated content appears indirectly from the fact that what could be called the Russian variant of inalienable possession (cf. Žurinskaja 1977, Herslund 1997) is linked to the so-called possessive adjectives (e.g. Papin dom ‘My father’s house, Mamin komp’juter ‘My mother’s computer’, Alešina komnata ‘Alesha’s room’, etc.). One could not use the genitive here unless the speaker deliberately wanted to emphasize that s/he was talking to strangers simply because the entities referred to cannot be thought of as separable — and separation between two entities is exactly what the genitive marks (cf. trebovat’ + gen ‘demand smth.’ and želat’ + gen ‘wish smth.’ as static variants and izbežat’ +
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gen ‘avoid smth.’ and lišit’ kogo-n. + gen ‘deprive smb. of smth.’ as dynamic variants). In other words, the genitive does not involve possession sensu stricto (see also Durst-Andersen 1997).
. Possession and state descriptions In fact, possession is connected to the dative and the instrumental, i.e. to those oblique cases that are inner cases and not outer cases as the genitive is (cf. Durst-Andersen 1996). Those state verbs which create a ground-proposition based on a description of a possession relationship are named possession-based state verbs. They fall into two groups: (1) those verbs that take the dative (Section 4.1) and (2) those verbs that take the instrumental (Section 4.2). . The dative and the possessum-oriented construction In opposition to the genitive case the dative marks what I call an introvertive viewpoint, i.e. it denotes a relation or a direction from something distant, B, to something near, A. Since B is the starting point of the dative and A its terminal point, the dative and the genitive are converse cases — in other words, X’s location point and vantage point do not coincide: (X) A ——< B {x
Figure 2. The introvertive viewpoint
If a person, X, is located at A and wants to view A, X has to place his vantage point outside of A, in casu in B. By looking at A from the standpoint of B, X in fact embraces B and in this way includes B in A. If we view this strictly from the point of view of B, B is received in A or is incorporated into A’s domain. In that way the dative denotes nearness (or, alternatively, closeness) and reception — the converse of remoteness and separation which were linked to the genitive. The dative is used in possessum-oriented constructions as in (2a) with a lexical verb and (2b) with byt’ ‘be’: (2) a.
Dom (nom) prinadležit prepodavatelju (dat). ‘The house belongs to a high school teacher’ b. Moskve (dat) — 850 (nom) let (gen). ‘Moscow is 850 years old’
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
As we see, the subject carries the Possessum Role in both examples. The subject in the nominative is typically inanimate, whereas the oblique object or the adverbial in the dative is typically animate. . The instrumental and the possessor-oriented construction The instrumental can be said to presuppose the existence of the two other oblique cases, since its viewpoint is correlative, i.e. it denotes an interrelationship beween something near, A, and something distant, B. This means that one (i.e. (X)) is located at something near, A, but is viewing at the relationship between A and something distant, B, from an external point of view (i.e. x}), i.e. from the point of view of totality. In other words, also in this case X’s location point and vantage point do not coincide, but in contradistinction to the dative vantage point the instrumental one is placed at an upper level or completely outside A and B. The result is that we leave the level of comparison where A and B are felt to be either identical or non-identical, and instead we enter another level where A is incommensurable with B, but nevertheless is closely related to B and vice versa. This interrelationship between something near, A, and something distant, B, can be depicted in the following way:
}
(X) A >——< B x
Figure 3. The correlative viewpoint
Since there is only one genuine kind of interrelationship, that of part and whole, the correlative viewpoint can be said to entail the relation of inclusion and that of inherent property. This appears from (3a) where we are dealing with physical or acquired properties, as well as from (3b), where we are concerned with intellectual or transferred properties: (3) a.
On (nom) vladeet domom (instr). ‘He owns a house’ b. On (nom) obladaet bol’šimi (instr) talantami (instr). ‘He has great talents’
As we see, possessor-oriented constructions involve an animate subject in the nominative and an inanimate oblique object in the instrumental. In both cases the instrumental noun denotes an inherent property of the person in question.
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Moreover, it can be argued that the two possession-based state verbs in, respectively, (3a) and (3b) always imply that somebody controls something, i.e. this something is at the possessor’s disposal and can be used by him as a Means. The meaning of inherent property is also involved in those adjectives with short form (SF) that govern the instrumental case: (4) Strana (nom) bogata (SF)/bedna (SF) tradicijami (instr). ‘Our country is (inherently) rich/poor of traditions’
If we take polnyj ‘full’ that takes the genitive or the instrumental case, the meaning of inherent property attached to the instrumental becomes even more obvious (cf. 5a and 5b): (5) a.
Rjumka (nom) polna (SF) vodki (gen). ‘The glass is full of vodka’ b. Rjumka (nom) polna (SF) vodkoj (instr). ‘The glass is full of vodka’
In the case of (5a) it is just stated that there is a glass that has some vodka in it. In the case of (5b) we are dealing with a vodka glass with vodka, i.e. vodka is an inherent property of this glass and therefore vodka is put in the instrumental. . Summary What has been said so far, can be summarized in the following scheme: Genitive: The extrovertive viewpoint SEPARATION/REMOTENESS From smb. near >—— to smth. distant Dom (Nom) brata (Gen). ‘His brother’s house’ Dative: The introvertive viewpoint RECEPTION/NEARNESS To smb. near ——< from smth. distant Dom (Nom) prinadležit bratu (Dat). ‘The house belongs to his brother’
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
Instrumental: The correlative viewpoint INCLUSION/INTERRELATIONSHIP Smb. near >——< and smth. distant is interrelated Brat (Nom) vladeet domom (Instr). ‘His brother owns a house’ As will appear from the following sections, the distinction between a so-called possessum-oriented construction (signalled by the dative) and a so-called possessor-oriented one (signalled by the instrumental) is not restricted to state descriptions — it is a characteristic feature of the entire Russian system.
. Possession and action descriptions Action verbs are also called complex verbs because — opposed to simplex verbs, i.e. state verbs and activity verbs — they do not involve one groundproposition, but two ground-propositions, i.e. one based on an activity description (SOMEBODYX PRODUCE AN ACTIVITY), and another based on a state description. When speaking of possession-based action verbs (i.e. an activity description + a description of possession) Russian distinguishes two constructions, viz. (a) cˇto-n. (prinadležit/est’) komu-n./cˇemu-n. (the possessum-oriented construction) and (b) kogo-n. (vladeet/obladaet) cˇem-n. (the possessor-oriented construction). . The dative and the possesum-oriented construction As appears from the above, the indirect object function of the dative case signals the possessum-oriented construction: (6) Ministr (nom) podcˇinil institut (acc) ministerstvu (dat). ‘The minister placed the institute under the ministry’ (7) On (nom) podaril ej (dat) podarok (acc). ‘He gave her a gift’
Both verbs prototypically take animate subjects, but differ with respect to the indirect object. (6) takes an inanimate indirect object, i.e. it instantiates the Goal Role, while (7) takes an animate indirect object, i.e. it instantiates the Recipient Role. Nevertheless, both (6) and (7) can be argued to manifest the possessumoriented construction where the inanimate accusative object occupies the
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position of underlying subject in the state description of the action (cf. The institute (Acc) belongs to the ministry (Dat); A gift (Acc) belongs to her (Dat)). . The instrumental and the possessor-oriented construction In possessor-oriented constructions with the instrumental we observe the reverse relations between animate and inanimate entities. Here the animate accusative object occupies the position of underlying subject in the state description of the action: (8) On (nom) podaril/odaril eë (acc) vnimaniem (instr). ‘He gave her his attention’
While (7) states that a certain gift now belongs to her, (8) states that she has now his attention at her disposal, i.e. she controls his attention. Although, admittedly, podaril, but not odaril in (8) represents a rather archaic example which is used in more poetic speech, I use it deliberately to show that some verbs allow both constructions. Apart from darit’/podarit’ there are only a few of them: (9) a.
Trener (nom) obespecˇil emu (dat) uspex (acc). ‘The trainer provided for his success’ b. On (nom) obespecˇil sekretaršu (acc) francuzskimi (instr) duxami (instr). ‘He provided his secretary with French perfume’
It appears, however, that the possessor-oriented construction itself is quite normal and frequent in Modern Russian: (10) On (nom) snabdil eë (acc) odeždoj (instr). ‘He provided her with clothes’ (11) Roditeli (nom) odarili detej (acc) igruškami (instr). ‘The parents gave the children toys’ (12) Firma (nom) premirovala lucˇšix rabotnikov (acc) cˇasami (instr). ‘The firm gave its best workers a watch as a reward’ (13) Prepodavatel’ (nom) vooružil studenta (acc) znanijami (instr). ‘The teacher equipped the student with knowledge’
In all examples the accusative object occupies the position of underlying subject in the ground-proposition involving a state description and together with the instrumental object it manifests the same reading, viz. somebody has
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
something at his or her disposal. Note that this meaning is responsible for the fact that as a rule the possessor-oriented construction requires an oblique object with a non-singular reference (cf. *On snabdil syna ženoj (sg) ‘He provided his son with a wife’ which is ungrammatical vs. On snabdil syna ženami (pl) ‘He provided his son with wives’ which is grammatical, although a little bit funny). . Concluding remarks It seems to be confirmed that the dative and the instrumental cases are closely related to the notion of possession and that they differ from one another by being converse with respect to surface subject when speaking of state verbs and with respect to underlying subject when speaking of trivalent action verbs. These observations seem to be confirmed by data from French (I would like to thank Michael Herslund for having drawn my attention to these data): (14) The possessum–oriented construction Ils ont fourni des médicaments à l’hopital (ETRE à) ‘They provided medicine for the hospital’ (15) The possessor–oriented construction Ils ont fourni l’hopital de/en médicaments (AVOIR) ‘They supplied the hospital with medicine’
In (14), which is an action verb construction involving an activity as well as a state description, we can identify the well-known state verb construction qc. être à qn., and in (15), which represents another action verb construction, we can identify the other well-known state verb construction qn. avoir qc. In that way, French shows in a convincing way that action descriptions indeed consist of an activity description (cf. Ils ont fourni) and a state description (e.g. l’hopital a des médicaments), which in this case is asserted. (For a detailed account of possessive constructions in French, see Luxt 1977).
. Possession and activity descriptions Because any activity is and must be performed against the background of a certain state, be that a state based on location (e.g. rabotat’ ‘work’ and igrat’ ‘play’), possession (e.g. zavedovat’ ‘manage’ and rukovodit’ ‘lead’), experience (e.g. gljadet’ ‘look at’ and slušat’ ‘listen’), or a certain quality (e.g. blestet’
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‘shine’ and bolet’ ‘hurt’), it appears that activity verbs are state verbs plus an activity description. The role of the state description can be extracted from the role that the very state plays in a real activity. If a certain soldier is creeping, he must be in a certain horizontal position — he could not be creeping, if this state did not obtain. The state is thus a necessary condition, but not the sufficient condition, for performing the activity of creeping. For natural languages this cannot but mean that all activity verbs involve an activity description which logically entails a certain state description. . The instrumental and the possessor-oriented construction As already indicated above, those activity verbs that take oblique objects in the instrumental case (e.g. zavedovat’ ‘manage’, rukovodit’ ‘lead’, upravljat’ ‘govern’, komandovat’ ‘command’, vlastvovat’ ‘control’, vedat’ ‘govern’, pravit’ ‘lead’, and rasporjažat’sja ‘control’) belong to so-called possession-based verbs. This means that just as the state verbs vladet’ ‘own’ and obladat’ ‘possess’ they are possessor-oriented and denote an inherent property. The inherent property which is described in the entailment structure of the verb normally includes a certain institution (e.g. a certain section) that has been transferred to a certain person and is now placed in his jurisdiction (cf. 16a, b): (16) a.
Molodoj, talantlivyj cˇelovek (nom) zavedyet novym otdelom (instr) amerikanskoj firmy. ‘A talented young man leads the new section of the American firm’ b. Novyj komandir, staršij lejtenant Ivanov (nom), upravljaet 50-oj batareej (instr). ‘The new commander, first lieutenant Ivanov, is in charge of the 50th battery’
In other words, the section and the battalion in question are inherently possessed by a talented young man and first lieutenant Ivanov, respectively, and against this background they perform their respective activities. It is crucial to note that these verbs are only used to give a characterization (showed in the English translation by the simple present tense form) — they cannot be used to describe situations in reality (One cannot say *Smotri, on upravljaet batareej ‘Look, he is leading the battery’). This is explained by the status of the instrumental case as an oblique and inner case. Some of the verbs in question, however, may be used in that function, but in that case they are used with a preposition (cf. 17a, b as well as 18a, b):
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
(17) a.
Lena (nom) vlastvuet soboj (instr). ‘Lena controls herself ’ b. Lena (nom) vlastvuet nad nami (instr). ‘Lena is dominating us’
(18) a.
On (nom) komanduet polkom (instr). ‘He is a brigadier’ b. On (nom) komanduet nad domašnimi (instr). ‘He is pushing around his family’
Although we do not find a genuine possessum-oriented construction with the dative case within activity verbs, it must be emphasized that exactly these verbs accept a synthetic passive construction despite the fact that the Russian grammar does not allow passives with intransitive verbs. So one will not find a single example in any of the existing grammars of Russian, but has to look them up in real life (I would like to thank Elena Wahl, Jan Erik Nielsen, and Carl-Henrik Lund for the examples): (19) Krome togo, otdelenija (nom) upravljalis’ (passive) komandirom (instr) vzvoda s pomošcˇ’ju signalov . . . ‘Besides the sections were guided by the platoon commander by means of signals . . .’ (20) A poskol’ku upravljaetsja (passive) vse éto (nom) nervnoj sistemoj (instr), to xozjain — ryba ili kal’mar — možet menjat’ intensivnost’ . . . ‘And since all this is governed by the nerve system, then the host, a fish or an octopus, may change the intensity . . .’ (21) Novyj otdel (nom) amerikanskoj firmy zaveduetsja (passive) molodym, talantlivym cˇelovekom (instr). ‘The new section of the American firm is headed by a young talented man’ (22) Rabota (nom) aspirantov rukovoditsja (passive) professorom Ivanovym (instr). ‘The Ph.D.students are supervised by Prof. Ivanov’ (23) Rossija (nom) pravitsja (passive) novymi russkimi (instr). ‘Russia is led by the new Russians’ (24) Kem (instr) rukovoditsja (passive) éta rabota (nom)? Toboj (instr) ili mnoj (instr)? ‘Who is in charge? Is it you or is it me?’
Per Durst-Andersen
My point is that these passive constructions can be created, and indeed are created, because they are possessum-oriented and in that way can be said to fill in a vacuum at this specific place.
.
Summarizing remarks
I have tried to demonstrate that the genitive is connected to the notions of separation and remoteness which appear to be almost the opposite of possession. Instead it was shown that the dative, which was linked to the notions of reception and closeness, as well as the instrumental, which was linked to the notions of interrelationship and inclusion, are naturally correlated with the notion of possession. Two construction types denoting possession were separated on the basis of case marking: a possessum-oriented construction with the oblique object in the dative and a possessor-oriented construction with the oblique object in the instrumental. In state descriptions and in activity descriptions the grammatical surface subject is realized by, respectively, an inanimate noun and an animate noun in the nominative, i.e. a direct case form. In action descriptions, the underlying subject of the state description component is occupied by another direct case form, viz. the accusative. That the two construction types do not belong to what is normally called “accidental properties’’, but, on the contrary, have gained a firm ground in the Russian grammatical system appears from the fact that the possessum-oriented construction has gained access into activity descriptions in the shape of a synthetic passive construction. This construction should be ungrammatical according to the rules of Russian grammar because no intransitive verb may take a passive form. Since these intransitive activity verbs do so, the separation of two distinct possessive constructions may also serve as a tool to explain a passive construction that hithertoo has been left unexplained within Russian linguistics.
References Babby, L. H. 1980. Existential sentences and negation in Russian. Ann Arbor: Karoma. Bilý, M. 1990. “The case remains open. Some notes on a new book on morphological case in Russian’’. Russian Linguistics 14: 185–203. Durst-Andersen, P. 1992. Mental grammar. Russian aspect and related issues. Columbus, Ohio: Slavica. Durst-Andersen, P. 1996. “Russian case as mood’’. Journal of Slavic Linguistics 4: 177–273.
Possessum-oriented and possessor-oriented
Durst-Andersen, P. 1997. “Possession in Danish and Russian from a typological perspective’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], M. Herslund and I. Baron (eds), 78–92. Copenhagen Business School. Franks, S. 1995. Parameters of Slavic morphosyntax. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and inalienable possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], M. Herslund and I. Baron (eds), 1–44. Copenhagen Business School. Jansen, L. 1998. “On text structure in Russian and Danish. A comparative study of Russian and Danish Frog-stories’’. In Clause combining and text structure [Copenhagen Studies in Language 22], M. Herslund and I. Korzen (eds), 43–62. Copenhagen: Samfundslitteratur. Luxt, L. I. 1977. “Kategorii bytija i obladanija (franzuzsko-rumynskie paralleli)’’. In Kategorii bytija i obladanija v jazyke, V. N. Jarceva (ed.), 125–143. Moscow: Nauka. Nichols, J. 1988. “Nominalization and assertion in scientific Russian prose’’. In Clause combining in grammar and discourse, J. Haiman and S. A. Thompson (eds), 399–428. Amsterdam-Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Whorf, B. L. 1950. “An American Indian model of the universe’’. International Journal of American Linguistics 16: 67–72. Žurinskaja, M. A. 1977. “Imennye posessivnye konstrukcii i problema neottoržimoj prinadležnosti’’. In Kategorii bytija i obladanija v jazyke, V. N. Jarceva (ed.), 194–258. Moscow: Nauka.
Chapter 7
Datives and comitatives as neighbouring spouses The case of indirect objects and comitatives in Danish Lars Heltoft
.
Introduction
In many languages, datives and comitatives merge, typically with respect to inflectional case, so that the facility of distinguishing between such functions is left to adpositional constructions. In other languages, there are no such mergers, but only systems that maintain a sharp distinction. In Classical Greek, the inflectional dative allows both sociative and instrumental readings along with receptive readings. Simple examples are given in (1a–c): (1) a.
chilíais nausì diebíbase tè:n stratián (Instrumental) 1000-dat ships-dat he let go across the army ‘he let the army go across by means of 1000 ships’ b. o’udeìs a’utô:i dielégeto ho:s ’androphóno:i ’ónti (Sociative) nobody he-dat spoke since murderer-dat being-dat ‘nobody spoke with him since he was a murderer’ c. Kûros dído:sin a’utô:i hèx me:nô:n misthón (Receptive) Kyros gives he-dat six months’ payment ‘Kyros gives him six months’ payment’
I shall return to this merger in Classical Greek in 6. Together with a mention of the situation in Old Scandinavian, in particular Old Danish, this will be sufficient to illustrate the inflectional dative-comitative merger for the present purpose. By contrast, Modern Danish is an example of a language with no such merger. A clear distinction must always be made between indirect objects and comi-
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tatives, the indirect object being a positionally defined grammatical function and all comitatives being prepositional. This situation is on display in Section 1.1. . The neighbouring spouses — Danish IO and CS Danish has categorical sentence structure (Sasse 1987), its word order patterns are XVSO in main clauses (the unmarked realization of X is S), SVO in subordinate clauses. There are no functional case remnants of its former typically Indo-European inflectional case manifestations of semantic role systems.1 Relevant to our present topic are the word order rules for the indirect object (IO). This is identified as the first object: (2) a.
De tildelte kongen en ubetydelig rolle. they allotted the king an insignificant role ‘They allotted the king an insignificant role’ b. Man forklarede kongen sammenhængen. they explained the king the background ‘They explained the background to the king’ c. De bebrejdede kongen nederlaget. they reproached the king the defeat ‘They reproached the king with the defeat’
The comitative is manifested by means of an adpositional construction, the co-subject construction, named ‘consubjectum’ by the Danish grammarian Høysgaard (1752). The preposition marking the co-subject (CS) is med ‘with’: (3) a.
Ole spiller fodbold med Peter. Ole is playing soccer with Peter ‘Ole is playing soccer with Peter’ b. Hunden logrer med halen. the dog wags with its tail ‘The dog is wagging its tail’
The only detailed grammatical description of the CS-construction is Erik Hansen (1971). I owe many examples and views to him. . Constructionally grammaticalized possession in Danish Both indirect object constructions (IO) and co-subject constructions (CS) grammaticalize possession, yet they are markedly different. Not only do they
Datives and comitatives
differ in their expression structure, they also impress on the semantic substance of possession a corresponding distinction of content structure — or content form, in the Hjelmslevian sense of this term.2 I shall try to determine to what extent this distinction can be formulated in terms of language specific semantic roles. In addition to semantic roles, I shall claim that the two constructions IO and CS must be analyzed in terms of a generalized notion of subjecthood, an explicit version, in a sense to become explicit below, of the ‘logical subject’ of traditional grammar. Mutatis mutandis, both constructions are organized on the basis of what will be called content subjecthood. Provisionally, this means that both IOs and CSs must obey a specific set of subject restrictions, known from explicit expression subjects elsewhere in Danish syntax. On the agenda are the following items: 1. The differences between the Danish IO and CS and their relatedness, with respect to semantic roles. 2. The notion of content subjecthood as a means of relating IOs and CSs at the level of content syntax, and, more tentatively: 3. A brief illustration of how the Modern Danish situation may relate semantically to older Indo-European stages, as attested by Classical Greek and Old Scandinavian. There will be a fourth perspective, too: 4. The content relations between dative, possessive, comitative, and instrumental functions are often described as transitory steps along cognitive continua. The notion of a continuum will not suffice here if taken necessarily to include fuzzy content borderlines. The stance taken by Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer (1991) is a sensible distinction between conceptually distinct case meanings and contextually determined continua; I shall, however, insist that content distinctions must be thought of as linguistically coded, language specific content. This again will be claimed to imply that detailed analyses of language specific content form must be included as starting points for analyses of other languages or other stages of development, along with hypotheses about universal networks of grammaticalization. Not all border lines are fuzzy, and the content relations suggested for the Danish situation will not be vague. They will include, among others, the view that IO-constructions and CS-constructions differ in their organization of the semantic role relationship of Framing (see below), and that this difference can
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be described in terms of options within the system of telicity, combining with the notion of frame through presuppositional relationships and entailment relationships.
. Content subjects, content objects and semantic roles In contrast to most treatments of this topic, I do not take semantic roles to be semantic primitives, for instance cognitively given sets of content functions. We cannot a priori assume that Recipient, Possessor, Beneficiary, Experient, Agent, Instrument, Source and Goal etc. are relevant for any given language.3 Specific languages single out different sets of semantic roles, and they coin these sets differently, in accordance with the design of their grammatical content systems in general.4 . Lexical items for verbs Semantic roles may be viewed as lexically controlled phenomena, and as such they belong to the lexicon as part of valency templates for verbs. This is in fact the predominant approach in recent linguistics. Whatever the technical or theoretical differences between for instance Gruber’s (1967, 1976[1965]), Fillmore’s (1968, 1972, 1978 and later), Jackendoff ’s (1972, 1983, 1987 and later), and Grimshaw’s (1990) approaches, they converge in being descriptions of ‘lexical items for verbs’. The alternative is to see semantic roles as codings of the constructions of the language in question (Eisenberg 1992, 1996) or of the positions of its word order system. In this approach, only those roles will count as grammaticalized — and thereby relevant for a given language — that are picked out by one or more members of the following systems: inflectional and adpositional paradigms, syntactic constructions, and positions of the word order system. For instance, a Modern Danish subject is open with respect to semantic roles, meaning that the subject position in Danish is not in itself coded with respect to semantic roles, but open to whatever restrictions lexical items or syntactic constructions may impose on it. Thus, both perspectives are relevant. What is almost always presupposed, but cannot be, is that all relevant semantic role structure must be lexically conditioned. The outcome of this strategy will be descriptions of the semantic role
Datives and comitatives
systems grammaticalized in given languages. (For this wider view of grammaticalization, see Heltoft 1996b). To take an example, the open subject position of Danish is somewhat unexpectedly matched by a restricted direct object position. Gruber (1976), Halliday (1970, 1996), Fillmore (1968 etc.), Jackendoff and others speak of the object as the ‘neutral role’, ‘objective’, ‘theme’, etc., but in Danish, direct objects cannot be agents. Crucially, English examples like: (4) a. She walks her little dog in St. James’s Park. b. The sergeant marched the recruits. c. The dog wagged its tail.
have no direct Danish counterparts. Danish demands the CS in such instances, see (3b). . Content subjects Any constituent that complies with the semantic subject restrictions of a given verb, is itself a content subject. Similarly, any constituent that complies with the semantic object restrictions of a given verb is itself a content object. A trivial, but crucial example is the status of the ‘logical subject’ in Danish der-constructions: (5) a.
Der må snart komme penge. there must soon come money ‘There must soon be money’ expression DO = content subject (NON-AGENT) b. Der arbejder 50 mand på projektet. there work-pres.act 50 men on the project ‘50 men work/are working on the project’ expression DO = content subject (AGENT)
In these examples of the der-construction, the positionally identified direct objects (penge ‘money’ and 50 mand ‘50 men’) must comply with the lexical subject rules of the verbs komme ‘come’ and arbejde ‘work’, respectively. More specifically, they must comply with the semantic subject roles of these verbs. (5a, b) imply the existence (not the truth!) of sentence patterns like (5¹). In (5¹) the relationship between expression subject and content subject is isomorphic, so that the expression subject is also the content subject, but in (5a, b) the content subject was manifested as the direct object:
Lars Heltoft
(5¹) a.
Penge kommer altid senere end man venter det. ‘money will always come later than one would expect’ b. 50 mand arbejder på projektet. ‘50 men work on the project’
A similarly classical example of a content object is (6), the upgraded direct object of passive constructions: (6)
Sagen blev grundigt undersøgt. the case was thoroughly investigated ‘The case was thoroughly investigated’ expression subject = content object
Where the semantic analysis of the IO is concerned, the verbs have/få ’have/get’ (and their negative counterparts mangle/miste ‘lack/lose’) will play a central role. Many syntactic and semantic properties of the Danish IO match the subject properties of få, and the IO will be said to function as the content subject of få. Quite informally, example (2a) entails (2a¹): (2) a¹. Kongen fik en ubetydelig rolle. ‘The king had (was given) an insignificant role’
Quite in keeping with the ‘logical subject’ analysis of traditional grammar (Diderichsen 1946), we shall say that the IO is a content subject in (2). Given that the analogy between the IO and the subject of få is valid, the IO will manifest the same semantic role as the subject of få. What this semantic role is, will be discussed in what follows. I shall assume that it can be adequately described on the basis of a notion of abstract meronymy, the relationship of FRAMING. Similarly, CSs are content subjects of their clausal verbs, on the basis of the following entailment relationships (3a¹ and 3b¹) and presuppositional relationship (3b¹¹): (3) a¹. Ole spiller fodbold med Peter. → Peter spiller fodbold med Ole ‘Peter is playing soccer with Ole’ b¹. Hunden logrer med halen. → halen logrer ‘Its tail is wagging’
Datives and comitatives
b¹¹. Hunden logrer med halen. → (P) hunden har en hale ‘The dog has a tail’
In both types, the CS qualifies as a content subject of the verb in question, as shown by the entailment relationship. A free CS like med Peter ’with Peter’ in (3a) is a content subject in the relation være med i, ’participate in’. A valency bound CS (3b) is the object of a have-relation, the content subject of which is the expression subject (or “grammatical subject’’, as tradition misleadingly has it).5 . Abstract possession If a notion of possession is relevant here, it must be a fairly abstract one. English offers no good everyday language options, but Danish offers tilhørsforhold, the nearby equivalent of the likewise feasible German word Zugehörigkeit, or French appartenance, cf. Benveniste (1966). This notion will be suggested as the semantic base for both the IO and the CS in Danish. It will define the framing relationship.
. The IO The content of the IO is complex and abstract (for an internationally accessible exposition, see Herslund (1986), who stresses the abstract nature of this relationship). The IO is an object that is at the same time qualified as the content subject of få ‘get’. As such, it acquires the semantic role of abstract whole or Frame: The DO is transferred to the IO, making the DO a part of a larger whole, delimited or framed by the IO, which may then be said to function as the Frame for this transition. We shall speak of the IO as the Frame. The Frame, again, impresses on the nonagentive direct object a contextually determined interpretation as the entity Framed. Prototypically, the IO is bound up with transitional (telic) meaning, see (2a, b). Transitional verbs proper are movement verbs (2a), others, for instance verbs of communication, are extension verbs (2b). It follows that like in English, Benefactive readings are no longer productive in IOs. A number of Danish IO-verbs without telic meaning like (2c) have developed parallel alternative patterns:
Lars Heltoft
(7) a.
Subject Subject b. de de they
V V bebrejdede bebrejdede reproached
Indirect Object Direct Object kongen kongen the king
Direct Object > Oblique Object nederlaget > for nederlaget for the defeat
Figure 1 shows the mapping of subject and object of have, få, mangle, miste (‘have, get, lack, lose’) onto the IO-construction. These four fairly abstract verbs denote abstract meronymy, the ‘Zugehörigkeit’. The denotata of subject and object are viewed as a whole, the subject being the point of departure: the frame that the object is framed into, that is, integrated into as a part. Verbs taking IO are prototypically lexical causatives of these four basic verbs. For such verbs, illustrated by (2a), subject restrictions on the IO must correspond to the restriction imposed by have/få on their subjects. subject of have, få, mangle, miste
direct object of have, få, mangle, miste
indirect object
direct object
Figure 1. Verbs of possession syntactically related to IOconstructions.
. The range of få-subjects Every time there is a proper transitional IO-construction, there is a similar, basic få-construction, and vice versa. I can be disproved by somebody showing that this parallel does not hold: (8) a.
Hun fik en 2CV. she got a 2CV ‘She got a 2CV’ b. Forældrene forærede hende en 2 CV. her parents presented her a 2 CV ‘Her parents presented her with a 2 CV’
(9) a.
Universiteterne mistede mange resurser. the universities lost many resources b. Ministeriet fratog universiteterne mange resurser. the ministry deprived the universities many resources ‘The ministry deprived the universities of many resources’
Datives and comitatives
(10) a.
Hvordan elefanten fik sin snabel. (Inalienable possession) how the elephant got its trunk b. Hvordan krokodillen gav elefanten sin snabel. how the crocodile gave the elephant its trunk
(11) a.
Krogen fik en orm på. (Instrumental/intentional) the hook got a worm on ‘The hook was provided with a worm’ b. Hun gav krogen en orm på. she gave the hook a worm on ‘She provided the hook with a worm’
The range of these subjects does not comprise the locative domain. (11) and (12a) are meronymic constructions in the wide sense defined above, not locatives. Indisputably locative features as shown in (12b) do not enter the få-construction, since they do not match its semantics. The få-construction in (12a) indicates an intended part-whole relationship, and the purely locative meaning of the der-construction (12b) is hard to squeeze into this semantic frame. In cases of pure location there is no such problem, (12c): (12) a.
Han fik en hue på. he got a cap on ‘He got a cap on’ b. *Der kom en hue på ham. there came a cap on him c. Der kom en plet på ham. there came a stain on him
Crucially, no proper locatives qualify as IOs, either, since (13a) can only refer to the church as an institution, and a proper locative interpretion requires (13b): (13) a.
Han sendte kirken blomster. he sent the church flowers b. Han sendte blomster til kirken. he sent flowers to the church
In Modern Danish, location is not part of the semantic roles of Frame and Framed (Whole and Part).6, 7
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. The få-passive Central to the constructional view of the IO and of the semantic roles involved is the existence of other grammatical constructions sensitive to the content of the IO. Danish has a specific passive which upgrades only the indirect object, and does not apply to objects in general, as does the ordinary passive. Characteristically, this passive has the verb få ‘get’ as its semi-auxiliary, as illustrated in (14). Even communication verbs occcur in the få-passive: (14) a.
Forældrene forærede hende pengene. the parents presented her the money ‘Her parents presented her with the money’ b. Hun fik foræret pengene af forældrene. she got presented the money by the parents ‘She was presented with the money by her parents’ c. Man forklarede kongen sammenhængen. they explained the king the background ‘They explained the background to the king’ b. Kongen fik forklaret sammenhængen. the king got explained the background ‘The king was given an explanation of the background’
The få-passive identifies grammatically the role as FRAME. Only NPs qualifying for this interpretation can be the expression subject of få and hence of this construction. . Free IO So-called free datives or adverbial datives occur as well, as examplified in (15a, b): (15) a.
Han hentede os en øl i stedet. he fetched us a beer instead b. Han købte sin kone en ny bluse. he bought his wife a new blouse
Space will not permit much detail. In short, such free IOs are not necessary parts of the verbal semantic template. They are free adjuncts of the transitive relation. This external status peeps through in their total lack of upgrading in any kind of passive. Whereas the genuine IOs in (2a, b) upgrade in both passives, (16), the adverbial IO does not, (17):
Datives and comitatives
(16) a.
Kongen fik tildelt en ubetydelig rolle. the king got allotted an insignificant role b. Kongen blev tildelt en ubetydelig rolle. the king was allotted an insignificant role
(17) a. *Hans kone fik købt en ny bluse. his wife got bought a new blouse b. *Hans kone blev købt en ny bluse. his wife was bought a new blouse
What the free IOs add to our understanding of the IO, is the coding of the position for IOs. Free IOs are not valency bound and do not acquire their semantic role from the verb, but directly from the position they end up in. The coding of the IO-position as the frame is still extant from the constantly entailed få-clauses: (18) a.
Han hentede os en øl i stedet. → vi fik en øl i stedet ‘We got a beer instead’ b. Han købte sin kone en ny bluse. → hans kone fik en ny bluse ‘His wife got a new blouse’
. Reflexive pronouns as a test of content subjects A more traditional feature and test, well known from traditional grammar (see for instance Diderichsen 1946) and also pointed out by Herslund (1986), is the antecedent of the possessive reflexive pronoun sin/sit, pl. sine, which must normally refer to an expression subject antecedent (in the singular). For centuries, however, most varieties of Danish have allowed this reflexive to pick up, alternatively, the content subject latent in the indirect object. Example (19) shows expression subject antecedence (a), and content subject antecedence in the IO, (b): (19) a.
Hun fik sine penge tilbage. she got refl money back ‘She got her money back’ b. Vi gav hende sine penge tilbage. we gave her refl money back ‘We gave her her money back’
Lars Heltoft
Predictable ambiguities arise with singular expression subjects as in (20a). In (20b) there is no ambiguity, since this subject is in the plural: (20) a.
Hun gav ham sine bukser. she gave him refl trousers ‘She gave him his/her trousers’ b. De gav ham sine bukser. they gave him refl trousers ‘They gave him his trousers’
. Summing up the analysis of Danish IO The IO in Danish, then, is a content subject, restricted in the same way as the expression subject of få ‘get’. It is coded as the semantic role of Frame, this role being attached partly to Danish word order, namely to the IO-position, and to a Danish construction, the få-passive. Verbs that pattern with IOs are prototypically telic (transition) verbs.
. Co-subject As an expression unit, a CS is an adverbial phrase morphologically marked by the preposition med. As a content unit, it is an argument, a Comitative, which is never manifested itself by an expression subject, although prototypically, it shows the same content restrictions as the expression subject of the relevant clause (Hansen 1971). . Symmetrical co-subject Symmetrical CS constructions allow the NP of the CS to appear in coordinating constructions, see (21b), (22b). They are either valency bound or free. As valency bound they are exemplified in (21), as free in (22): (21) a.
A diskuterer med B. A discusses with B ‘A is discussing with B’ b. A og B diskuterer. A and B discuss ‘A and B are discussing’
Datives and comitatives
(22) a.
Rist meldte sig (sammen) med et par kammerater som R. enlisted refl together with a couple of friends as frivillige. volunteers ‘Mr. Rist enlisted (together) with a couple of friends as volunteers’ b. Hr. Rist og et par kammerater meldte sig som frivillige. ‘Mr. Rist and a couple of friends enlisted as volunteers’
. The semantics of the co-subject The CS denotes a set of content subjects all of which qualify as expression subjects for V. All such content subjects are structured meronymically in that they are Parts. Neither the expression subject nor the CS are assigned the role of Frame, this being instead presupposed as the total set of NPs identified by the expression subject and the CS. A simple pseudo set theoretic exposition may help to make this point stand out. The genuine IO construction is transitional and could be rendered as in Figure 2, as far as the movement interpretation is concerned: S has DO S
DO
DO passes to IO IO
S → DO → IO
IO has DO S
IO DO
Figure 2. Transitional framing
The relation behind the CS is a static relation. The basic relation in the symmetrical CS-construction is være med i ’participate in, be part of ’; in asymmetrical CS-constructions (see below) it is the have ‘have’-relation. For symmetrical CSs the pseudo-set theoretical exposition is that of (23), for the asymmetrical version it is (24): (A) set of relevant content subjects
(B) Content subject(s) of expression subjects
(C) Content subject(s) of CS
Figure 3. Framing in CS
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(23) a. A = B + C (B and C are parts of A, A has B and C) (24) b. B = B + C (C is part of B, B has C), (B = A)
. Asymmetrical co-subject By contrast, the asymmetrical CS presupposes static meronymy, a version of the framing relationship where the CS is framed by what is denoted by the expression subject. In (25) we find meronymy proper: (25) a.
Din cykel rasler ad helvede til med bagskærmen! your bike rattles like hell with rear guard-def ‘Your bike’s rear guard rattles like hell’ b. Hotellet dominerer det hele med sin grimme facade. the hotel dominates the whole with its ugly facade ‘The hotel’s ugly facade dominates it all/everything’ c. Byen når helt ned til havet med sine forstæder. the city extends all the way to the sea with its suburbs ‘The city’s suburbs extend all the way to the sea’
Asymmetrical CSs project the have-relation onto the adnominal genitive: (26) a.
Din cykels bagskærm rasler. your bike’s rear guard rattles ‘Your bike’s rear guard is rattling’ b. Hotellets grimme facade dominerer det hele. the hotel’s ugly facade dominates the whole ‘The hotel’s ugly facade dominates everything’
In the asymmetrical CS have-relations are entailed, also by definition: (27) a.
Din cykel har en bagskærm. your bike has a rear guard b. Hotellet har en facade. the hotel has a facade c. Byen har nogle forstæder. the city has some suburbs
. Abundance This variant is the counterpart of Fillmore’s example the garden is swarming with bees (1972). There is no reason, however, to analyse the subject of this
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construction as a locative. At the level of subjecthood, this stands out as a straightforward CS-construction: (28) a.
Gaden vrimlede med fattige børn. the street swarmed with poor children ‘The street was swarming with poor children’ b. Byen myldrer med polske gangstere. the city teems with Polish gangsters ‘The city is teeming with Polish gangsters’ c. Grøftekanten flagrede med sommerfugle. the roadside fluttered with butterflies ‘The roadside was swarming with butterflies’
The characteristic have-relation is always entailed and adnominal genitives as well: (29) a.
Gaden har fattige børn. ‘The street has poor children’ b. Byen har polske gangstere. ‘The city has Polish gangsters’ c. Grøftekanten har sommerfugle. ‘The roadside has butterflies’ (30) a. Gadens fattige børn. ‘The street’s poor children’ b. Byens polske gangstere. ‘The city’s Polish gangsters’ c. Grøftekantens sommerfugle. ‘The roadside’s butterflies’
. Control causatives Control causatives (or activity causatives, cf. Heltoft 1978) are treated in Danish as a variant of the CS. Notice again that Danish direct objects cannot be agentive, therefore parallels to Halliday’s The sergeant marched the recruits or She walked her little dog in St. James’s park pattern with the CS-construction: (31) a.
Faderen læser lektier med sin søn. the father reads homework with his son ‘The father is doing homework with his son’
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b. Sergenten eksercerede med rekrutterne. the sergeant drilled with the recruits ‘The sergeant drilled the recruits’ c. Kan du ikke vente med dine indvendinger? can you not wait with your objections ‘Can’t you put off your objections?’ d. Nu kom politiet med den anholdte. now came the police with the prisoner ‘Now the police brought (in) the prisoner’
We shall not document these in detail, but have-relations and adnominal genitives are possible everywhere, and entailed subject relations too, following the pattern: (32) a.
Faderen læser lektier med sin søn. → faderens søn læser lektier ‘The father’s son is doing homework’
Genuinely meronymic CS (inalienable possession) can occur in control causatives, provided that the expression subject has agentive content: (33) a.
Den lille hund logrede med halen. the little dog wagged with its tail ‘The little dog wagged its tail’ b. Hvorfor hænger du med hovedet? why do you hang with your head? ‘Why are you down in your mouth?’ c. Klapperslangen rasler med halen før den hugger. the rattlesnake rattles with its tail before it strikes ‘The rattlesnake rattles its tail before striking’
. Instrumentals Instrumentals are CS as well, although a few extra restrictions make them less prototypical. Have-relations are added:8 (34) a.
Hug den rod over med en økse! chop that root over with an axe ‘Chop that root in two with an axe’ b. → du har en økse. ‘You have an axe’
Datives and comitatives
(35) a.
Man kan som regel tage den slags pletter af med terpentin. one can, as a rule, take such stains off with terpentine ‘One can — as a rule — remove such stains with terpentine’ b. → man har terpentin ‘One has terpentine’
Sentences with instrumental subjects matching Fillmore’s the key opened the door (1968) cannot be plain declaratives in Danish (and probably not in English, either), but must be modal generics, next to synonyms to sentences containing an explicit modal kan ‘can, will’: (36) a.
Sådan en økse hugger roden over på et øjeblik. such an axe chops the root over in a moment’ ‘Such an axe chops the root in two in a moment’ b. Denne nøgle åbner kælderdøren. this key opens the basement door ‘This key opens the basement door’
(36¹) a.
Sådan en økse kan hugge roden over på et øjeblik. ‘Such an axe will chop the root in two in a moment’ b. Denne nøgle kan kun åbne kælderdøren. ‘This key can only open the basement door’
. Reducing the semantic role inventory The direct profit from this constructional approach is that a number of traditional or would-be semantic roles are reduced to variants of the CS. Sociative, genuine meronymic Part, Comitative, Controlled, Instrument, CoAgents etc., are rendered superfluous as structurally constitutive notions. They may be relevant for contextually sensitive analyses of e.g. style or coherence, but they are not units at the level of la langue.
. Expression subjecthood and content subjecthood as organizing principles in Danish Subjecthood is a central part of the analysis of both IOs and CS. The common denominator for the IO and the CS in Danish is their function as content subjects. Both qualify as subjects of a predication entailed by the full construc-
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tion, both participate in the structuring of the semantic field we have called abstract meronymy or framing. What distinguishes them from the outset is their telicity. The IO is always telic (in the sense of denoting transition); the CS is always static. The entailed telic relation in the IO is prototypically the få-relation, the presupposed static relation in the CS is the have-relation. It follows from this characterization that the distribution of the framing relationship over the sentence members involved must differ. The IO is transitional: In prototypical IOs the DO changes its status from being framed by the expression subject to being part of a new frame, the IO. The CS, however, presupposes that S and CS are both parts of the same set or frame, and it forwards the claim that they are involved in the same activity. Danish makes this difference an important one, while at the same time (which we have not dealt with in detail here) delimiting IOs from locatives. Although we can formulate at an abstract level some degree of similarity (namely the framing relationship) between IOs and CS, such an abstraction would in part take us outside the realm of the linguistic content of Danish. At the level of Hjelmslevian language specific content structure (content form, in Hjelmslev’s terminology, see Harder 1996, Engberg-Pedersen et al. 1996: Preface), the point remains a question of difference. What is specifically Danish is the sign relation, that is, the way the borderline pinned down at the level of content is related to two different syntactic constructions. This guarantees their linguistic relevance. Again, the framing relationship has a language specific design in Danish where it is defined as non-local. Other languages which lend themselves more easily to localistic analyses may include framing as special cases of local structure. An overview of the distinctions is given in Figure 4 below. Insisting on expression criteria for any content distinction furnishes us with a tool for putting the question of the number and quality of semantic roles on a proper empirical footing. Instruments, sociatives, comitatives and abundance PPs reduce to one and the same structure, the CS, free and valency bound. A tempting way to reintroduce the term Comitative in the analysis of Danish, then, would be to define it as a cover term for the entire range of CSs. A Comitative in Danish is any CS viewed from the content, namely the static co-part relationship defined in (23)–(24). Similarly, we can in this specific sense reintroduce Receptive for any IO in Danish, meaning thereby its status as a Frame organized through the relevant system of content subjecthood. Since our approach is synchronic, the unifying feature of receptives and comitatives has turned out to be a fairly abstract one. The relations discussed
Datives and comitatives
Semantic substance
. . . Local relations . . . . . . Framing relations . . . Local relations
Danish content form
Framing relations IO
CS
Asserted framing
Presupposed framing
Asserted transition
Asserted activity
(not on the agenda)
Figure 4. Content structure (Hjelmslevian content form) of the IO and CS in Danish.
can be summarized as in Figure 4. Single vertical lines indicate borders of Danish content form. By distinguishing IO and CS, Danish has split the field of framing into two major areas of content form. Telicity is one basic parameter, presupposition vs. assertion another. All differences aside, my view of Modern Danish converges with Grimshaw’s (1990) on English in assuming firm structural relationships between telicity (‘aspect’, in her terminology) and semantic roles. On the other hand, such intermarriages are not universal. In well-known case languages we find examples of grammaticalization across the borders of telicity.
. Datives and comitatives as spouses: Some case mergers It is worthwhile to take a brief look at some case mergers in proper IndoEuropean case languages to see whether the substantial relatedness between IOs and CS may shed light on such mergers. Mergers that are immune to catalysis (Hjelmslev 1943; namely those that cannot be resolved), should make sense at the level of content and not just remain expression phenomena. This exercise is not an attempt to revive the search for basic meanings (Grundbedeutungen) of the respective cases, neither diachronically nor cognitively. It is an attempt to find language specific organization behind mergers, and as such, it is a logical consequence of the strategy adopted in the analysis of the Danish IO and CS. Lists of variants such as those found in classical grammars and in classical works on Indo-European syntax, esp. in Delbrück’s part of Brugmann’s and Delbrück’s Grundriss will not answer this question. Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer (1991) point to diachronic relations — very frequent in African languages — between allatives and datives, and Blake (1995: 145) even regards a Target role as the basic meaning of datives. Datives
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encode “entities that are the target of an activity or emotion’’, examples are datives with Latin three-place verbs like da¯re, monstra¯re, manda¯re, and with two-place verbs like pare¯re, fidere. As long as one restricts the scope to languages without instrumental and comitative functions of the dative, the Target model may well be a sensible interpretation. But in languages like Classical Greek and an Old Germanic dialect like Old Scandinavian, the dative comprises instrumental and comitative readings as well. In such languages we find mergers that cannot be reduced synchronically to the Target function. We shall take a closer look at these languages below. In the approach of Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer (1991), meanings of case functions are related by means of conceptual networks, normally with a diachronic orientation. Quantitative generalizations over such networks lead them to set up a chain of increasing grammaticalization, see below. I shall not discuss their points, but use their exposition as a bridgehead for my own exposition. Of interest in this context is the presupposed, but not implausible, organization of case functions on a localist basis. Path aside, there are three basic local functions and the networks that are formed on them as a template. As they say (1991: 159), ‘‘spatial concepts are more basic than other concepts and therefore serve as a template for understanding [sic] nonspatial concepts’’. The local dimensions derive their increasing degree of grammaticalization from another dimension, that of anthropocentricity: Spatial Ablative Allative Locative Path
Anthropocentric
Inanimate
> Agent > Purpose > Time > Condition > Manner Comitative Instrument Cause Benefactive Dative Possessive
Now, these hypotheses are really only very abstract and general guidelines, and empirical languages may pattern differently, both with respect to diachronic lines of development and with respect to synchronic patterning. As presented, this diagram contains no claims of interrelations along its horizontal rows, but only with respect to its columns. Connections between these concepts may be lost in the development of an actual language — personally, I would find it wise to add that they may never have existed. From Schlesinger’s analysis of the polysemy of English with (1979) they render the continuum comitative > instrument > manner, but the preposition with has no allative or ablative background, nor has the Danish
Datives and comitatives
preposition med, for that matter. An actual network like Schlesinger’s (1979: 320): Comitative
Instrument Possessive
Manner
Figure 5.
need not presuppose a localist analysis of the comitative-instrument-manner continuum. Such synchronically organized patterns may either include their local origin, or they may have lost it during their historical development, or even never have had one.9 In the light of these considerations, my own analysis is not just a nonlocalistic approach, but also an attempt to formulate a common core meaning for Modern Danish across the columns of case notions in Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer. This core meaning was the relation of framing (abstract possession or Zugehörigkeit). I have bracketed this notion to indicate that it is just an abstraction formed on the basis of the relevant constructions, in reality a notion that finds lexical support in the semantics of have ‘have’ and få ‘get’. It is not directly grammaticalized as such in Danish, but must always combine with options of telicity: [Framing]
Dative (IO)
Comitative (CS) Instrument (CS)
Figure 6.
I add this notion — involved case readings are in boldface — to the figure on degrees of grammaticalization to show its non-localistic character, stressing again that Danish have/få-relations and the Danish IO are not anthropocentric, but more abstract (cf. Herslund 1986). The framing relationship is rather non-local. The brackets around the notion of possession indicate that
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both lexically and constructionally, the relevant notion of possession is the framing relationship: ablative agent allative comitative locative benefactive path
purpose time condition manner instrument cause dative [possessive]
What I shall propose next is a strategy relevant for the analysis of languages that merge with respect to comitative/sociative, instrumental and dative functions. It makes sense to ask whether such languages have more direct grammaticalizations of the framing relationship. It should be stressed that what follows is the unfolding of such a strategy; full validity with respect to the structures of the languages analysed is not claimed. . Classical Greek The main semantic variants of the dative merger are rendered in (37), part of which were documented in (1). The remaining functions are listed in (38). Since the Greek system is not bound up with telicity, Greek readily admits Benefactive readings, a semantic role excluded from the system of Modern Danish: (37)
Dative
(38) a.
Causative (Agent/Cause) * Sociative (Comitative) Instrumental Possessive Experient (‘Dativus judicantis’) Benefactive Receptive * Locative
Pánta ’éire:to a’utê:i. everything had been said by she-dat ‘Everything had been said by her’ b. O’ikídion ’ésti moi diploûn. little house is I-dat two-storey ‘I have a little two-storey house’
(marginal)
(marginal) Agent
Possessive
Datives and comitatives
c.
’Allà gàr ’é:de: hó:ra ’apiénai, ’emoì mèn ’apothanouméno:i but now is the time to leave, I-dat for my part die-ptc.dat hymîn dè bio:soménois. Possessive you-dat for your part to live-ptc.dat ‘But now is the time to leave, for me to die, but for you to live on.’ d. Hopóteroi dè he:mô:n ’érchontai ’epì ’ámeinon prâgma, which-pl and us-gen go-pres.pl towards the better thing, ’áde:lon pantì plè:n ’è: tô:i theô:i. Dativus concealed everybody-dat but the-dat god-dat judicantis ‘And which of us will go for the better alternative, is concealed to everybody but the god. e. toîs tê:s póleo:s nómois ’epithóme:n. Receptive def.d def.g. city-gen laws-gen obeyed-1 ‘I obeyed the laws of the city’ f. Marathô:ni Locative Marathon-dat ‘at Marathon’ g. Prosérchetaí moí tis presbûtis ’ánthropos. Locative comes towards I-dat somebody old woman ‘some old woman is coming towards me’
The readings clustering around Possession are taken to constitute the core area. I shall disregard the agentive use of the dative. Although this reading is still extant in the classical language, its marginality is demonstrated by its near absence in New Testament Greek. Greek has an inflectional case system that discards the semantic difference between telic and static relationships. Thus, its dative is neutral with respect to the distinctions grammaticalized in Danish. At the same time, its semantics extends far beyond the limits of the Target reading: There is no obvious similarity between Targets and Comitatives/ Instruments, compare the fact that these latter readings go with the ablative in Latin. An obvious candidate for the meaning of the Greek dative would be the Frame role. Target readings or Allative-like readings such as (38g) may have been reinterpreted to Frames, but Instrumentals and Comitatives cannot be viewed as Targets. The issue of the status of the locative readings can be reformulated as the question whether Greek treats framing relationships as a special case of location. I shall only hint at the preconditions for carrying through such an extension of the topic of possession by emphasizing that there are at least two
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conceivable answers to this. One strategy would be to view Classical Greek as synchronically locative-based; referring again to the networks employed in Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer (1991), the locative would then be interpreted as a focal member of such a network. Following the alternative strategy would mean taking the extant locatives to be just remnants of a former system that has at the stage of Classical Greek almost changed into an abstract framing system. This issue is for experts of Greek, but one possible outcome would be that Homeric Greek still reflects a locative based system, whereas later stages, especially Attic prose, do not. Luraghi (1991) accounts for the mergers of Greek in terms of combination with noun classes, much along the same lines as the distinction between anthropocentric case and inanimate cases quoted from Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer. Plain inflectional datives with human NPs must be interpreted as the semantic roles of Receptive and Comitative, whereas non-human and inanimate NPs will require Instrument readings of a plain inflectional dative. To give a human NP the function as Instrument calls for an adposition; in the same way, to give non-human NPs the Receptive function calls for an adposition. I quote two examples from Luraghi (1991: 60–61), showing nonhuman Receptive and human Instrument readings: (39) Ho poimè:n ho kalòs tòn bíon parèchei hypèr tà próbata. the shepherd the good the life gives for the sheep ‘The good shepherd gives his life for his sheep’ (40) ’Autoì gár sphêis hoi Héllenes légontes di’ ’aggélô:n ho:s . . . selves for they the Greeks saying through messengers that . . . ‘For the Greeks themselves said through messengers that . . .’
While this is a neat description of the functionality of a multipolysemous inflectional case system, there is no need to take the further step of distinguishing between two different dative paradigms, provided that a common core reading can be provided for the two sets, human and non-human datives. If one adopts something like the abstract frame reading of the dative, the distribution of Instrument readings and Receptive readings over adpositions and noun classes will reduce to a case of combinatorial variation, as in Figure 7.
Datives and comitatives
Receptive
Instrument
Human
Dative
Adpos + NP
Non-human
Adpos + NP Dative
Figure 7. Distribution of instrumental and receptive/benefactive datives in Greek (Luraghi 1991).
. Old Scandinavian The historical forerunner of the modern situation in Danish is a dative/instrumental merger similar to the one found in Greek. Judging from the standard syntactic description of Old Norse (Nygaard 1906, in many respects obsolete), Old Scandinavian retains relatively few instances of the agentive/ causative use of the inflectional dative, and possession at the clausal level is typically not a dative construction, but a genitive one, or a transitive ‘have’construction. The relevant functions are listed in (42)–(46): (41)
Dative
Sociative Instrumental Receptive Experient Benefactive Locative
(42) a.
Vm man rithær annars mans hæsti. if a man rides another-gen man-gen horse-dat ‘If a man rides another man’s horse’ b. Bøta threm marcum compensate by means of three-dat marks-dat ‘To pay three marks as compensation’
(43) The mæn . . . ær hanum fylg[i]a. the men . . . that he-d accompany ‘Those men . . . that accompany him’
Instrumental/ sociative Instrumental
Sociative
(44) Æn vm man liggær á døtha digi. oc gifuær han guthi egn sina. Receptive if a man lies on his dying day and gives he God-dat property his ‘If a man lying on his dying day gives God his property’
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(45) a.
Æn mylnu dammi annars mans ma æy at fiscum fara. but millpond-dat other man’s may not for fish go ‘But at another man’s millpond may one not go fishing’ b. Han ma æy na hinu. ær læt var. he cannot touch that-dat which was lent out ‘He cannot recapture that which was lent out’
(46)
Locative
Sæms them æy ær scoga ago. at swin gange samman Exper. agree they-d not that wood own. that swine may go together ‘If those who own the wood cannot agree that their swine may go together’
There is a remarkable similarity between this situation and the one displayed by Old Greek. They cover next to the same range of senses. We may again set aside the question of an originally local interpretation of the dative merger. Many historical details and facts beyond the scope of the present article point towards a diachronic extension of the locative case. The Old Scanic remnants — as they indeed are — of the locative use of the dative can either be included in a synchronic continuum extending across the comitative-receptive border, or just be set aside as remnants. It is interesting to cast a glance at the development of the inflectional dative case in later Middle Scanic. Middle Scanic of the fourteenth century has lost all locative and instrumental/sociative uses, retaining only two main functions of the dative: the receptive function and an inagentive (‘experient’) reading occuring in so-called impersonal constructions. Later, the inflectional dative disappears completely (late fifteenth century). Examples of these two functions are: (47) The gamblæ skra thær ærchebiscup æskil oc biscup absalon . . . gafæ skanungum. the old statutes that archbishop Æ. and bishop A. . . . gave scanians-dat (Ms. AM 37, 4o, c.1300) (48) En man i sin ytarste tima. tha thøkte honum som en stor sten ofvir honum hængde. oc vilde vpa honum falla. ‘A man in his utmost hour. then thought he-A/D as if a big stone would fall upon him.’ (SjT 95, early 15th C.)
Of these two readings, the inagentive one merges in a limited set of pronouns with the accusative to form a new oblique pronominal form, whereas separate
Datives and comitatives
dative forms for nouns are optionally retained, disappearing altogether by the late fifteenth century. The pronominal merger, illustrated in Figure 8, was already on its way in common Nordic, but extended into the later Scandinavian languages: Old Scanic
Late Middle Scanic
Nom.
hun Unmarked
Nom.
hun Unmarked
Acc.
hana -Agentive
Dat.
hænni Receptive/Experiencer
Obl.
hænni -Agentive
Figure 8. Case reduction in Middle Scanic, exemplified by hun ‘she’
In fact, this merger brings us close to the Modern Danish situation, later changes of content are irrelevant in the present context. Case can no longer reflect the semantics of the IO and CS, neither as a merger nor as distinct systems. Late Old Danish (represented here by late Middle Scanic) shows a conflict between two case systems, a nominative vs. oblique system and a direct vs. oblique system. In nouns, the receptive dative is in contrast to a nom/acc merger; the pronominal system has a nom. vs. oblique opposition, showing an acc/dat merger. Noun inflection Nom. Sg. Acc. Dat. Nom. Pl.
Acc. Dat.
hæst
kunung
hæsti
kununge
hæsta
scanunga
hæstum scanungum
Pronominal inflection han
hun
hanum/honum
hænni
the them
(hæst ‘horse’; kunung ‘king’; scanunga ‘Scanians’; han ‘he/it’; hun ‘she/it’; the ‘they’)
Figure 9. Competing mergers in Late Old Scanic.
The pronominal system is the only one to survive. From this point onwards, the IO, if expressed, must be so by means of position (word order), the Comitative/Instrument merger by means of adposition only, the CS construction.
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. The frame merger The dative case ending in Greek and in Old Scandinavian is a merger across the borders of telicity. In Greek and Old Scandinavian we can claim the following mergers — leaving the question of the locative open. For Classical Greek, Figure 10a, for Old Scanic, Figure 10b, the difference being that Old Scandinavian normally uses a ‘have’-construction for possession in the narrow sense, not the dative. [Locative] Possession
Receptive Experient (‘Dativus judicantis’)
Comitative Instrument
Figure 10a. The frame merger in Classical Greek [Locative] [Framing]
Receptive Experient
Comitative Instrument
Figure 10b. The frame merger in Old Scanic
.
Conclusion
In the analysis of Modern Danish it was necessary to make a distinction between two kinds of framing, receptive and comitative. These two kinds of framing are organized not as differences of semantic role, but as differently organized relations of content subjecthood and telicity. A framing relationship lies at the bottom of both constructions, but at the level of content form the
Datives and comitatives
comitative function and the receptive function are complex notions, each adding its own set of content subject rules to their common abstract framing relationship. Modern Danish is a categorical subject language, and the loss of oblique inflectional case in Danish has been compensated for by extensive application of subject relations and subject rules to the realm of the original dative. By contrast, former Indo-European stages like Old Greek and Old Scandinavian are examples of direct coding of the role of frame onto the inflectional dative morpheme.
Notes . A nominative–accusative distinction is observed in a handful of personal pronouns, but this distinction has been reinterpreted on the model of categorical sentence structure, so that the nominative marks plain anaphorical subjects, the accusative all other cases, cataphorical subjects and non-subjects alike (Heltoft 1997). . For necessary modifications of the Hjelmslevian apparatus, see esp. Harder (1996). For a short statement, see Engberg Pedersen et al. (1996) (Preface); for an application, Heltoft and Falster Jakobsen (1996). . The term ‘experient’ replaces experiencer in an attempt to harmonize the vocabulary for semantic roles. . Of course, we may need tentative, but proposedly general substance notions as landmarks for our analysis of semantic role structure in specific languages. Nor do I rule out the possibility that certain demands or restrictions on semantic roles may turn out to have next to universal cognitive status. . Manner adverbials may be formed as med-PPs, but these are not synchronically part of the CS-construction, since they do not comply with the subject criterion. Positionally, such manner adverbials are distinct from CS: (i) De var kørt med høj fart ind i et træ. they had run with high speed into a tree ‘They had run into a tree at high speed’ Some oblique objects are found with the preposition med. These fall short of the subject test: (ii) Han sad og fumlede med sin rosenkrans. ‘He was fiddling with his rosary’ . The universalist version of the localist position, namely that all case content is universally modeled on local structure, will not hold, nor will probably its diachronic counterpart, the claim that all case meanings are diachronically derived from local meanings. The position adopted here makes localism but one possible synchronic organization
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principle, since framing is not locally based, in the sense of related intrinsically to concrete locatives. We need not for the present purpose make an issue out of the diachronic version. . For a valence theory with localist implications, the so-called Adject Theory, se Herslund (1988), Herslund and Sørensen (1994). This theory deserves much more attention than it has acquired so far. . An additional authentic example like (i): (i)
Se, med en lille vatpind tørrer du hendes mund med trøskesaft. ‘Look, with a small swab stick you dry her mouth with glycerine of borax’ → (P) du har trøskesaft you have glycerine of borax → (P) du har en lille vatpind you have a swab stick
will disprove the argument prevalent in American distributionalism that one never finds two representations of the same category in one and the same clause. . For another (brief) exposition of the confusion of synchrony and diachrony in localist trends, see Heltoft (1996).
References Anderson, J. M. 1971. The Grammar of Case. Towards a Localistic Theory. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Anderson, J. M. 1975. On Case Grammar. London: Croom Helm. Bech, G. 1955–57. Studien über das deutsche Verbum Infinitum I-II [Det kongelige danske Videnskabernes Selskab. Historisk-Filologiske Meddelelser 35: 2, 36: 6]. Copenhagen: Ejnar Munksgaard. Benveniste, E. 1966 [1960]. “ ‘Être’ et ‘avoir’ dans leurs fonctions linguistiques’’. Reprinted in Problèmes de Linguistique Générale I, Emile Benveniste, 187–207. Paris: Gallimard. Blake, B. J. 1994. Case. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Blomqvist, J. and Jastrup, P. O. 1991. Grekisk/Græsk Grammatik. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Comrie, B. 1981. Language Universals and Linguistic Typology. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Diderichsen, P. 1946. Elementær dansk Grammatik. Copenhagen: Gyldendal. Dik, S. C. 1989. The Theory of Functional Grammar. Part 1. The Structure of the Clause. Dordrecht: Foris. Eisenberg, P. 1989. Grundriss der deutschen Grammatik. Stuttgart: Metzler. Eisenberg. P. 1992. “Syntaktische Funktionen und Semantische Rollen’’. Lecture at the 13th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, Roskilde University, Department of Languages and Culture, January 1992. Eisenberg. P. 1996. “Syntaktische Funktionen und Semantische Rollen. Subjekt, Direktes und Indirektes Objekt im Deutschen’’. In Proceedings of the 13th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, L. Heltoft and H. Haberland (eds), 83–92. Department of Languages and Culture, Roskilde University.
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Engberg-Pedersen, E. et al. (eds). 1996. Content, Expression and Structure. Studies in Danish Functional Grammar. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Engberg-Pedersen, E. 1996. “Iconicity and arbitrariness’’. In E. Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds), 453–468. Faarlund, J. T. 1990. Syntactic Change. Toward a Theory of Historical Syntax [Trends in Linguistics. Studies and Monographs 50]. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Fillmore, C. 1966. “Toward a Modern Theory of Case’’. In Modern Studies in English, D. Reibel and S. A. Schane (eds), 361–375. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall. Fillmore, C. 1968. “The Case for Case’’. In Universals in Linguistic Theory, E. Bach and R. T. Harms (eds), 1–88. Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press. Fillmore, C. 1971. “Types of Lexical Information’’. In Semantics. An Interdisciplinary Reader in Philosophy, Linguistics and Psychology, D. D. Steinberg and L. A. Jakobovits (eds), 370–392. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fillmore, C. 1977. “The Case for Case Reopened’’. In Syntax and Semantics vol. 8. Grammatical Relations, P. Cole and J. M. Sadock (eds), 59–81. New York: Academic Press. Grimshaw, J. 1990. Argument Structure. Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press. Goodwin, W. W. 1965 [1894]. Greek Grammar. London: Macmillan. Gruber, J. S. 1967. “Look and See’’. Language 43: 936–947. Gruber, J. S. 1976 [1965]. Lexical Structures in Syntax and Semantics. Studies in Lexical Relations. Amsterdam: North-Holland. Hansen, E. 1971. “Jensen er nede i postkassen med et brev. Konstruktioner med consubjectum i moderne dansk’’. Danske Studier 1971: 5–36. Harder, P. 1996a. Functional Semantics. A Theory of Meaning, Structure and Tense in English. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Harder, P. 1996b. “On Content and Expression in Syntax’’. In Proceedings of the 13th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, L. Heltoft and H. Haberland (eds), 83–92. Department of Languages and Culture, Roskilde University. Heine, B., Claudi, U. and Hünnemeyer, F. 1991. Grammaticalization. A Conceptual Framework. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Heltoft, L. 1978. “Smæk ikke med døren når du smækker den. Static and Dynamic Causatives in Danish’’. In Papers from the 4th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, K. Gregersen (ed.), 287–294. Odense: Odense University Press. Heltoft, L. 1996a. “Grammatikalisering af semantiske roller i dansk’’. In Semantiske roller [Odense Working Papers in Language and Communication 10], L. Schack Rasmussen (ed.), 43–64. Odense University. Heltoft, L. 1996b. “Paradigms, Word Order and Grammaticalization’’. In E. EngbergPedersen et al. (eds), 469–494. Heltoft, L. and Falster Jakobsen, L. 1996. “Danish Passives and Subject Positions as a Mood System’’. In E. Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds), 199–234. Herslund, M. 1986. “The Double Object Construction in Danish’’. In Topics in Scandinavian Syntax, L. Hellan and K. Koch Christensen (eds), 125–147. Dordrecht: D. Reidel. Herslund, M. 1988. Le Datif en Français. Louvain-Paris: Éditions Peeters. Herslund, M. 1995. “Valens og grammatiske relationer’’. In Ny forskning i grammatik. Fællespublikation 2, P. Durst-Andersen and J. Nørgaard-Sørensen (eds), 48–72. Odense: Odense University Press.
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Herslund, M. and Sørensen, F. 1994. “A Valence Based Theory of Grammatical Relations’’. In Function and Expression in Functional Grammar, E. Engberg-Pedersen, L. Falster Jakobsen and L. Schack Rasmussen (eds), 81–95. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Hjelmslev, L. 19662 [1943]. Omkring Sprogteoriens Grundlæggelse. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Translated by F. J. Whitfield (1963): Prolegomena to a Theory of Language. Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press. Høysgaard, J. P. 1752. Methodisk Forsøg til en fuldstændig dansk Syntax [= Danske Grammatikere V, H. Bertelsen (ed.)]. Copenhagen: Reitzel. Jackendoff, R. M. 1972. Semantic Interpretation in Generative Grammar. Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press. Jackendoff, R. M. 1983. Semantics and Cognition. Cambridge, Mass.: The MIT Press. Jackendoff, R. M. 1987. “The Status of Thematic Relations in Linguistic Theory.’’ Linguistic Inquiry 18: 369–411. Luraghi, S. 1991. “Paradigm size, possible syncretism, and the use of adpositions with cases in flective languages’’. In F. Plank (ed.), 57–74. Lyons, J. 1967. “A Note on Possessives, Existentials and Locatives’’. Foundations of Language 3: 390–396. Lyons, J. 1977. Semantics 1–2. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.. Madvig, J. N. 1968 [1883]. Syntax der Griechischen Sprache. Repr. Copenhagen: Gyldendal. Nygaard, M. 1966 [1906]. Norrøn syntax. Oslo: Aschehoug. Plank, F. (ed.) 1991. Paradigms. The Economy of Inflection. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Sasse, H. J. 1987. “The Categorical vs. Thetic Distinction Revisited.’’ Linguistics 25: 511–567. Schlesinger, I. M. 1979. “Cognitive Structures and Semantic Deep Structures. The Case of the Instrumental’’. Journal of Linguistics 15: 307–24. Taylor, J. R. 1989. Linguistic Categorization. Prototypes in Linguistic Categorization. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Chapter 8
Towards a typology of French NP de NP structures or how much possession is there in complex noun phrases with de in French? Inge Bartning
.
Introduction
The purpose of this study is to present a typology of interpretations of the structure NP de NP in French and to identify the possessive cases in the rich polysemy of relations between the two nouns conveyed by the sequence NP de NP (Bartning 1987, 1989, 1990, 1993, 1996, 1998). The preposition de has been interpreted as a marker indicating a relationship which is inferred by one or both of the nouns (Bartning 1993; Cadiot 1989). The concern of this paper is primarily attributive ‘possessive’ constructions. The term possession is indeed elusive (see Herslund and Baron, this volume). In the following the term possession has, above all, two senses. The broad sense is paraphrasable with ‘avoir’ and ‘appartenir à’ and the narrow sense with ‘posséder’ (Seiler 1983: 90–92). In what follows a two-level model is used to present different interpretations of the NP de NP construction. This model is subsequently supported by syntactic tests. A short description of the use of the possessive determiner and some of its constraints will be given in order to identify the cases of possessive meaning in the French NP de NP system.
. A two-level model of NP de NP in French Bartning (1993) outlined three levels of interpretation of the NP de NP structure: the discourse level, the pragmatic level and the prototypical level, exemplified here by (1a–c), (2) and (3) respectively:
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(1) a.
Le chevalier du baccalauréat installa son camarade sur sa chaise (dossier Donald Duck) et, sans le quitter des yeux, […] il ouvrit les placards. (Orsenna, Grand amour, p. 31) ‘The knight of/from the A-levels put his comrade on a chair and, without stopping to look at him, he opened the cupboards’ b. Debout devant la cheminée était un homme de moyenne taille, à la mine haute et fière, [. . .]. De temps en temps, l’homme de la cheminée levait les yeux de dessus les écritures. (Dumas, Mousquetaires, 183–4, cité par Eriksson 1980: 399) ‘Standing in front of the fireplace there was a man of medium size with a noble and proud expression. Now and then, the man of the fireplace/fireplace man raised his eyes above the writings’ c. Et puis à le voir, lui, l’homme de la Mandchourie endormi ou mort. Celui de la main, celui du voyage. (Duras, L’Amant, p. 59) ‘And then to see him, him, the man from Mandchourie sleeping or dead. The one of/with the hand, the one of/from the journey’
(2)
La rue de mon grand-père ‘My grandfather’s street’
(3)
La fierté des Gaulois ‘The pride of the Gauls’
Discourse cases Examples (1a–c) show a type of binominal NP which is interpretable at a level higher than the phrase or sentence (hence the term discourse), and signalled by the context, rather than by the complex noun phrase itself (the micro-structure). The sequence de NP2 serves as an identifier, N2 having the function of recalling a previous mentioned NP (Bartning 1993; Fraurud 1990). The text helps to establish links between the two NPs. The ‘‘textual’’ distance (Kleiber et al. 1994) may vary a great deal: in (1a), le chevalier is the protagonist of the novel, at the beginning of which he helped a girl he fell in love with pass her exams, and is then, in a later chapter, ‘named’ le chevalier du baccalauréat. In (1b) la cheminée is found only in three utterances before the NP structure. In (1c) the man referred to is first identified by a part of his body and then by a journey during which the man has put his hand on a girl’s knee (Corblin 1987: vague interpretation; Baron and Herslund 1997: topical relation; the ‘de notoire’, Englebert 1992). In short, in (1b) one must already know that the man had stood in front of the chimney earlier, or that, in (1c), the man in Duras’ novel had put his hand on the girl’s knee, to be able to understand the discursive complex NPs.
Typology of French NP de NP structures
Pragmatic cases As is well-known (cf. Seiler 1983: 40), cases such as (2) can be interpreted based on extra-linguistic knowledge, (hence the term pragmatic) as in (4a–b): (4) a.
Le chien de Sophie (= the dog which S. takes care of every day, as a veterinary surgeon) ‘Sophie’s dog’ b. Les secrets de famille sont comme ça. Ils vous tiennent comme le sparadrap du capitaine Haddock. Le plus agaçant, sans doute, c’est que tout le monde en a, tout le monde en fabrique, tout le monde en souffre, mais que personne n’a encore trouvé le moyen de s’en débarasser (NO 1582: 8) ‘Family secrets are like that. They hold you like Captain Haddock’s sticking plaster. The most annoying thing, without doubt, is that everybody has them, that everybody invents them, everyone suffers from them, but nobody has yet found a way to get rid of them’
The interpretation of the NP of (4b), which requires a good knowledge of Belgian culture, is given by the enumeration of the ‘‘supporting’’ verbs, the last of which recalls the true sense of the NP: ‘‘a sticking-plaster which is impossible to get rid of ’’ (cf. Hergé, L’affaire Tournesol). Prototypical cases Finally, the NP structure in (3) above shows an attributive relationship, with a semantic link which is interpretable on the basis of the characteristics of N1, which is a property noun. The sentence may be paraphrased as: ‘‘The Gauls are proud’’ (Riegel 1985). The interpretation is predictable on the basis of the N1 which is an adjectival nominalisation and thus uni-relational as are verbal nominalisations and relational nouns (Bartning 1993 for French, Durieux 1990 for English). There are, however, problems: if we insert a noun which is typically unirelational like voyage (a predicative noun with one argument) in a minimal context such as (5): (5) Le voyage de Luc ‘Luc’s journey’
we can still obtain several possible interpretations:
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(a) the journey undertaken by Luc (b) the journey of which Luc dreams, talks, etc. (Heine 1997, ‘accidental’ possession)
Consequently, it seems necessary to generalize and say that, in principle, every NP de NP may be interpreted at two different levels: 1. The level of the NP itself (example 3) with a meaning imposed by the semantic and argumental properties of the two nouns (cf. 5a). In other words, the relationship exists before discourse and is possible to establish on the basis of the lexical units involved. The semantic relationship is thus available at the level of the micro-structure of the NP. 2. The discourse level, which then includes a. the contextual cases (examples 1a–c) interpreted according to knowledge gained from the preceding context without a preexisting semantic link between the two nouns, as in the micro-level, and b. the pragmatic cases (examples 2, 4a–b, 5b) interpreted according to extra-linguistic or encyclopedic knowledge. If N2 is [+human], one can expect a large array of interpretations since man can act in unlimited ways and act on objects in different ways. In such cases the possibilities of pragmatic interpretations thus increase. In the discourse cases the nominal entities in N2 position may either occur earlier in the text (cf. 1a–c) or belong to the universe of global discourse or extra-linguistic knowledge (le voyage de Luc ‘‘the journey of which he dreams’’, etc.). In both cases the interpretation requires a larger context than the NP itself. There is no preexisting semantic link between the two nouns as in the prototypical cases. Grammaticalisation/Textual development It seems to me that the contextual discursive cases may be considered cases of grammaticalisation by using the structure of NP de NP with the very polyfunctional preposition de. Consider (1b) again: the man was first introduced as Debout devant la cheminée était un homme (‘the man stood in front of the fireplace’), then at a potential intermediate stage > l’homme devant la cheminée (‘the man in front of the fireplace’) , and then finally > l’homme de la cheminée (‘the man of the fireplace’). This example can be considered an illustration of Heine’s proposal (1997: 184) of the evolution of the Source Schema in Romance languages which appears to have entailed a development from adverbial morphosyntax involving the latin preposition de (from) to a
Typology of French NP de NP structures
nominal morphosyntax giving rise to such markers of attributive possession as French de, Spanish de and Italian di. There seems to be independent evidence for the two levels since they play a role in the acceptability of associative anaphora as Kleiber (1997) has shown when describing the semantic links in Part/Whole and locative relations which contain intrinsic links. As is shown in examples (6) and (7a), the prototypical cases accept the associative anaphora but not the discursive one in (7b) which has no such intrinsic links (‘the vase’ in (7b) must have been introduced before): (6) Il s’abrita sous un vieux tilleul. Le tronc était tout craquelé. (part/whole) ‘He took shelter under the old lime tree. The trunk was quite crackled’ (7) a.
Nous entrâmes dans un village. L’église était située sur une colline. (locative) ‘We came into a village. The church was on a hill’ b. Nous entrâmes dans une cuisine. ?Le vase était posé sur la table. (locative discourse case) (Kleiber 1997: 56) ‘We came into a kitchen. The vase was on the table’
. The level of the micro-structure and the prototypical cases In this section we will take a closer glance at the prototypical cases. These cases are distinguished by an analysis of the properties of N1 and N2 and by syntactic tests of some NP de NP constructions. . Presentation of a noun classification We will present three groups of nouns. Group I shows characteristics that help to trigger the interpretation of the whole NP de NP construction, whereas groups II and III, in contrast, contain multirelational nouns which do not convey a given meaning (Bartning 1996). Moreover, nouns of the latter groups are referentially autonomous, while those of the first group are often syncategorematic or referentially non-autonomous (Kleiber 1981, 1997, 1999a). (For a classification of the NPs according to their cognitive ontological status, see Fraurud 1996.) Noun classification Group I contains nouns which determine the meaning of the whole NP de NP. The semantic relation between the two nouns “pre-exists’’ or exists as a
Inge Bartning
potential because of the lexical properties of N1 and the semantic link it creates with N2 (cf. Pustejovsky 1993: 86: the Qualia structure of nouns; Warren forthcoming; Kleiber 1999b). 1. Predicative/verbal nouns which reproduce the same patterns of argument structure or valency as the verbs from which they are often derived (Herslund 1980; Baron 1992; Stage 1986; Gross 1991; Gaatone 1986; for Noun-adjective or Adjective-Noun constructions in French and English, see Bartning 1980; Levi 1978; Warren 1984). These are event and action nouns, which presuppose actors (verbal nominalisations with N2 as subject or object): (8) Le retour des investisseurs étrangers fait flamber la Bourse de Paris. (InfoMatin 940720: 8) ‘The foreign investors’ return’
2. Attributive nouns which maintain an inherent relationship with the person or object possessing something (adjectival nominalisations, ‘N2 is Adjective’) (Guillaume 1919; Riegel 1985): (9) Enfin, il vit la gravité du regard que maître Biard posait sur lui (Engwall 1984) ‘the graveness of the glance’
3. Agentive nouns with NP2 as object: (10) La conductrice du camion ‘the driver of the lorry’
4. Psychological nouns (expressing a feeling or an attitude) which assume a ‘‘patient’’, a ‘‘beneficiary’’ (Spang-Hanssen 1963; Anscombre 1995): (11) Car Bérénice avait le goût de l’absolu (Aragon, cité par Spang-Hanssen 1963) ‘the taste of the absolute’
5. Part/Whole nouns which assume that the N1 expresses an inherent part of the whole (Winston et al. 1987; Riegel 1994; Riegel et al. 1994: 240; Kleiber 1997; Langacker 1995) ‘X is part of Y’: (12) la poignée de la porte vs *la poignée de la maison ‘the handle of the door’ vs *‘the handle of the house’ le volant de la voiture ‘the steering wheel of the car’
6. ‘‘Relational’’ nouns (of kinship and socio-professional status) referring
Typology of French NP de NP structures
implicitly to another person (Cadiot 1991; Reboul 1993) or a social ranking (provided that N1 is a person): (13) a.
l’épouse de Jean ‘John’s wife’ le frère de Marie ‘Marie’s brother’ b. Mais tout le monde n’a pas fait le même chemin que la fille de Lacan (NO 1583: 7) ‘Lacan’s daughter’ c. le président de l’entreprise, du club ‘the president of the enterprise, of the club’
As we shall see these six types of head nouns create together with the N2 the core group of the prototypical cases since the N1 determines the meaning of the whole NP de NP. Group II. Multirelational/Non-predicative nouns but whose lexical meaning contributes to the interpretation of the relationship, in particular N2. 7. Locative nouns in N2 position: these NP de NP are paraphrased by ‘in Y, there is X’ (Fradin 1984; Kleiber 1997): (14) les bibelots du salon ‘the trinkets of the living room’ (15) un magasin de la ville ‘a shop of the town’
8. Temporal nouns in N2 position: (16) les programmes du samedi dernier ‘last Saturday’s programs’ son départ de la veille ‘his departure of the evening before’
Group III. Multirelational nouns. 9. Iconic nouns (representational nouns): (17) a.
l’image d’un père génial et trop connu ‘the picture of a fantastic and too well-known father’
Inge Bartning
b. c’est le portrait de son père ‘the portrait of his father’
Iconic nouns may offer other interpretations with the NP2: besides the representational interpretation there are two other possible interpretations of N2 in (b), viz. agent (‘the father has made the portrait’) and possession (‘the father owns the portrait’) and an example like le portrait du château also offers a locative meaning ‘the portrait is in the castle’, see example below. 10. Open class: nouns expressing concrete objects (for various tests of these nouns, see Kleiber 1981; Riegel 1985; Flaux 1992): (18) la voiture de Jean, les livres de Nicolas, les vêtements de Catherine ‘John’s car, Nicolas’ books, Catherine’s clothes’
For these nouns we may imagine all sorts of relations, e.g. possession, agentive, etc. as well as discourse interpretations (’’la voiture que Jean a dessinée’’, “the car that J. drew’’) and even metonymy cases like ‘the picture of the car that John drew’ (Warren, personal communication). . Syntactic support for some established relationships Before presenting the prototypical combinations of NP de NP I will show that in French there are ways of differentiating binominal complex NPs, even those where neither N1 nor N2 suggest a link of the NP (cf. group III above): In 1982 Milner proposed two tests to demonstrate that there are different interpretational groups, i.e. pronominalization in de lui (which of course only concerns an animate, human N2) and the construction être de N2. Thus, the possessive: (19)
la voiture de Marie ‘Mary’s car’
as well as the subjective and objective genitive: (20) a.
la venue de Marie ‘Mary’s arrival’ b. l’éducation des enfants ‘the education of the children/the children’s education’
neither accept pronominalization with de lui nor the construction être de lui: (21) a.
la voiture (est) *d’elle ‘the car (is) of her’
Typology of French NP de NP structures
b. la venue (est) *d’elle ‘the arrival (is) of her’ l’éducation (est) *d’eux ‘the education (is) of them’,
in contrast to the agentive type: (22) a.
le livre (est) de Sartre ‘the book (is) by Sartre/Sartre’s book’ b. le livre (est) de lui ‘the book (is) by him’
and NPs with an iconic head noun: (23) a.
la photo (est) de Marie ‘the photo (is) of Mary’ b. la photo (est) d’elle ‘the photo (is) of her’
Milner (1982) concluded that the possessive and the subjective and objective genitives represent a case in modern French, whereas the agentive type and the ‘‘iconic’’ object are prepositional groups. Elsewhere we have been able to show (Bartning 1990) that the system of NP de NP is somewhat more complex and that these criteria not only isolate the groups cited by Milner but may also be applied to other complex NPs containing de, viz. to attributive cases (=adjectival nominalisations): (24) *la gravité est de la situation ‘the gravity is of the situation’
and cases expressing ‘origin’: (25) ce thé est de Chine ‘the tea is from China’
This result places the ‘origin’ type of interpretation in the same group as the agentive relations, and the attributive type in the ‘possessive’ group. Even though Milner’s tests do not isolate different types of relations so that one can establish different grammatical categories (Bartning 1990), they may significantly support the differentiation of the relations within the polysemy of NP de NP.
Inge Bartning
. The prototypical relations based on the previous noun classification Basing the analysis on combinations of criteria of noun classifications presented in 3.1 and the syntactic behaviour of the groups according to the tests in Section 3.2, we can now distinguish likely combinations of NP de NP prototypes, presented in Table 1. The prototypical cases have thus been identified and distinguished by the meaning imposed at the level of the micro-structure (group 1–2, 4, 6), by a combination between the meaning and the syntactic behaviour of the N2 (group 3, 5, 6, 10, 12) and by the lexical meaning of the two nouns (N1: group 7, 8, 9, 13b; N2: 11, 12, 13a). Table 1. The prototypical cases at micro-level ‘‘Object’’ relationships (N2 = ‘‘object’’) 1. N1: nominalization–N2: ±human, ±animate a. N1: deverbal noun expressing an event (“objective genitive’’) En finançant la publication de cette recherche sur l’origine de nos plus grands patrons (NO 1580: 10)(‘the publication of this research’) la libération des prisonniers (‘the liberation of the prisoners’) (Riegel et al. 1994: 188) b. N1: agentive noun–N2: ±human, ±animate le conducteur du camion (‘the driver of the lorry’) le sauveur de Paul (‘the saviour of Paul, Paul’s saviour’) 2. N1: psychological noun–N2: ±human, ±animate, ‘‘object’’/’’patient’’ le goût du risque (‘the taste of/for risks’) (Petit Robert) la haine des immigrés (‘the hatred of immigrants’) 3. N1: iconic noun–N2: ±human, ±animate (the iconic group) la photo, le portrait du château, du chat (‘the photo, portrait of the castle, the cat’) Quand elle a entendu dire: ‘‘Mon Dieu, c’est le portrait de son père’’, elle faillit sursauter (‘the portrait of her father’)(NO: 1582: 7) “Subjective’’ relationships (N2 = ‘‘subject’’) 4. N1: nominalization–N2: ±human, ±animate (subjective genitive) Balladur réduit les dépenses de ses ministres (‘the ministers’ expenses’) (InfoMatin 94.07.20, p.9) 5. N1: noun expressing product, artefact, creation–N2 (agent): ±human, ±animate (‘N2 makes/has made N1’, agentive relationship) Il jouait une sonate de Mozart (‘a sonata of/by Mozart’)(Le Clézio) le livre de Le Clézio (‘the book of Le Clézio/Le Clézio’s book’)
Typology of French NP de NP structures
6. N1: property noun/adjectival nominalization–N2: ±human, ±animate (‘N2 is Adjective’, attributive relationship) la gravité du regard (‘the gravity of the glance’) la gentillesse de Paul (‘Paul’s friendliness’) 7. N1: classifying noun–N2: +/- human ±animate (‘N2 is an N1’ or ‘N1 concerns N2’ ) Le problème des immigrés préoccupe la plupart des gouvernements (‘the problem of the immigrants’) [. . .] il y a aussi le thème de la culpabilité (‘the theme of guilt’) (NO 1582: 6) 8. N1: relational noun–N2: 1. +human, 2. -animate (kinship relation) 1. l’épouse de Jean (‘John’s wife’) 2. le patron, le chef de l’entreprise (‘the head of the enterprise’) Other relationships 9. N1: Part/Whole noun–N2: ±human, ±animate (‘N1 is a part of N2’, ‘N2 includes N1’, partitive relationship, inalienable possession) Tristan se souvenait des mains de sa mère (‘his mother’s hands’) jouant sur le piano noir (Le Clézio, 26) la poignée de la porte (‘the handle of the door’) la porte du restaurant (‘the door of the restaurant’) 10. N1: multi-relational noun denoting an object–N2: ±human, ±animate, ‘‘subject’’ (‘N2 has N1’, ‘N1 appartient à N2’, possessive relationship) a. posséder (‘possess’): N1-human, N2 ±human le livre de Paul (‘Paul’s book’) b. avoir (‘have’) Sous prétexte de préserver les intérêts des épargnants, on confie les banques à des hauts fonctionnaires issus du Trésor (‘the savers’ interest’) (NO 1580: 10) 11. N1: open category or locative noun–N2: locative noun (‘in Y, there is X’, Fradin 1984; Kleiber 1997; locative relationship) a. permanent location: Elle voyait M. Ferne sur la place du village (‘the village market place’) (Le Clézio) b. habitual location: (. . .) les gens fortunés des villas (‘the rich people in the villas’) (Le Clézio) c. temporary location: les gens du compartiment (‘the people in the compartment’) 12. N1: open category — N2 locative noun (dynamic relationship: ‘N1 comes from N2’, relationship of origin) le thé de Chine, le vin d’Alsace (‘the tea of/from China, the wine of/from Alsatia’) le livre de la bibliothèque (‘the library book’) 13. a. N1: open category — N2: N2 locates N1 in time (temporal relationship) les programmes du samedi dernier (‘the programs of last Saturday’) Mon père était juif, confie-t-elle, sarcastique, et ma mère avait la tuberculose. Comme ça j’héritais des deux tares majeures du XXe siècle (‘the two major flaws of the XXth century’) (NO 1582: 8)
Inge Bartning
b. N1: noun locating the event in time — N2 event noun la veille de l’inhumation (‘the evening before the burial’) (Ernaux, La place 19) C’est le moment de la révolte […] (‘the moment of the rebellion’) (NO 1580: 5)
. A typology of the prototypical cases and their relations in the polysemy of NP de NP One might claim that among the prototypical cases presented in Table 1 there are certain relations that are interconnected (in particular groups 5, 6, 9, 10, 11 and 12 in the list above). Some of these relations are more linked to possession than others. They are all expressed by the same syntactic structure but they do not all express possession. I propose that there are two basic types of relations, at micro-level, namely possession and origin, which subsumes many other relations. This division is supported by the syntactic behaviour of the groups and correspond better to the original meaning of de. (Table 2 below does not cover all NP de NP structures, e.g. destination cases like le train de Paris, quantity un kilo de beurre, une heure de lit, location la région des parfums, nor quality un fripon de valet.) The relations given under A in table 2 have conceptual affinities and syntactic behaviour resembling possession. Under B we find relations connected to that of origin. (For the conceptual affinities, see Bartning 1993.) Table 2. Distribution under two groups of essential prototypical relations A. Attributive la gentillesse de Jean
Part/whole le bras de Jean
Possession la voiture de Jean
Location les bibelots du salon
B. (Source) (l’idée de Jean)
Origin le thé de Chine
Agent le livre de Sartre
(Iconic) (la photo de Jean)
The meaning component which group A has in common may be summarized by the stative verb ‘‘avoir’’ (see e.g. Milner 1982: 138; Godard 1986; Riegel 1985: 63 and Baron and Herslund, this volume, for the analogy between locative and possessive phrases), that of group B by the dynamic verbs ‘‘venir de’’, ‘‘faire’’, both expressing ‘‘provenience’’ (cf. the original meaning of de in Old French, Herslund 1980; Heine 1997: 145: ‘Source Schema’: Y from X). This division is reflected by the possibility/impossibility of the tests of Milner (1982), namely être de N2:
Typology of French NP de NP structures
(26) Group A: *Le bras est de Jean, *la voiture est de Jean (possessive), *la gentillesse est de Jean, *les bibelots sont du salon here in the locative sense; the predicative phrase is acceptable in the ‘origin’ sense (27) Group B: le thé est de Chine, le livre est de la bibliothèque, l’idée est de Jean, le terme est de moi, le livre est de Sartre
Because of their syntactic behaviour the first group may also include the subjective genitives (l’arrivée de Jean ‘John’s arrival’) and the objective genitive (la connaissance du dossier ‘the knowledge of the dossier’), as well as (very likely) the NPs with the head noun expressing feelings and the N2 ‘object’ or patient (la haine des immigrés ‘the hatred of the immigrants’) and the NPs with classifying nouns (le problème des immigrés ‘the problem of/with the immigrants’). These groups are of course very different semantically. (For a discussion of the possibility to use subjective and agentive complex NPs in predicative structures, see Bartning 1990). In contrast, the discourse cases such as l’homme de la cheminée, la fille du bac (‘the man of the fireplace, the girl of/from the ferry boat’) are not part of this system. They are constructions interpreted at a textual level which borrow the general meaning of the NP1 de NP2 construction paraphrased as ‘N1 is associated with N2’. As we saw above, they are decoded more precisely with the help of the context or extra-linguistic knowledge.
. Is there any other syntactic support for the groups A and B among the prototypical cases? Let’s look at the tests of de lui again and then the possessive determiner to see to what extent they support the hypothesis of the two groups A and B in order to isolate the possessive meaning from other prototypical cases and the discourse cases. . De lui As we saw, the de lui test distinguished the possessive cases and the objective/subjective cases from the agentive and iconic cases. We can now extend this distinction by stating that pronominalization in de lui is possible only for group B. In group A, it cannot be used for possessive or Part/Whole relationships or for the attributive group:
Inge Bartning
(28) a.
le livre de lui (agent) ‘the book of him’ b. la photo de lui (iconique) ‘the photo of him’ c. une gifle de toi m’humilierait (Gross 1991: 268) (agent) ‘a slap of you would humiliate me’ d. un signe de toi me ferait plaisir (id.) (agent) ‘a sign from you would please me’ e. Nakasone, lui aussi, est peintre. Dans son bureau de Tokyo, il a même une toile de moi. (COSTO: X04, PE, p.2) (agent) ‘a painting of me’
versus: (29) a.
la voiture *de lui (possessive) ‘the car of him’ b. le bras *de lui (P/W) ‘the arm of him’ c. la gentillesse *de lui (attributive) ‘the friendliness of him’
. The possessive determiner If the result of the de lui test is unambiguous between the groups A and B, i.e. among the prototypical cases, that of the possessive determiner son, sa, ses, is less so (Godard 1986): the ‘subjective’ NP de NP are those which are most easily pronominalized by the possessive determiner, viz. possessive, agentive, subjective and attributive relationships (Bartning 1989, 1993). Thus, the possessive determiner is not exclusively limited to the NPs within group A, but is also used within the domain of group B as shown in (30): (30) a.
sa gentillesse (attr), son bras (p/w), sa voiture (poss), ses bibelots (loc) b. son idée (source), son thé (origin), son livre (agent), sa photo (iconic))
However, there are other prototypical combinations in Table 1 that do not accept the possessive determiner: the ‘‘objective’’ groups and the locative and temporal groups. The ‘objective’ groups are exemplified in le respect des conventions/*?leur respect (‘the respect of the conventions/their respect’), la
Typology of French NP de NP structures
haine des immigrés/*leur haine (‘the hatred of the immigrants/their hatred’) (object) and le goût de l’absolu/*son goût (‘the taste of the absolute/its taste’) (Godard 1986; Bartning 1989). The locative and temporal groups on the other hand include permanent location: les bibelots du salon/ses bibelots ‘the trinkets of the living room/ its trinkets’ which seems to accept the possessive determiner, whereas neither ‘‘habitual’’ location (les gens des villas/*leurs gens ‘the people of the villas/ their people’) nor ‘‘temporary’’ location (les gens du compartiment/*ses gens ‘the people of the compartment/its people’) do. But again the conceptual affinity between location and the Part/Whole relationship has the effect that the possessive determiner is often accepted, which is the case of l’eau des rivières/leur eau (‘the water of the rivers’) and les tares du XXe siècle/ses tares (‘the flaws of the twentieth century’). Finally there are still other relationships which do not accept the possessive determiner, namely classifying NPs as in le problème des immigrés/*leur problème, la question des immigrés/*leur question (‘their problem’, ‘their question’, cf. Bartning 1989: 181) and identifying NPs as la ville de Paris/*sa ville (‘its town’). In the latter case the pronominalisation does not apply to a nonreferential NP. . The possessive determiner and the discourse cases The discourse cases such as l’homme de la cheminée/*son homme (‘the man of the fireplace/its man’), le chevalier du baccalauréat/*son chevalier (‘the knight of the A-level/ its man’), cannot be pronominalized by the possessive determiner despite the fact that many prototypical locative cases can be, as in le magasin de la ville /son magasin (‘the shop of the town/its shop’). This syntactic behaviour seems to support our hypothesis that these NP de NP constructions have another origin or derivation than the prototypical cases (cf. la main de l’homme/sa main ‘the hand of the man, the man’s hand/his hand’ vs. l’homme de la main/*son homme ‘the man of the hand/its man’). This is also confirmed by Kleibers’ data of associative anaphora (1997: 58): (31) Le pique-nique était raté. ?Sa bière était trop chaude (‘The picnic was a failure. Its beer was too warm’) (discourse case) (32) Un village était situé sur une butte. Son église dominait toutes les maisons. (‘A village was situated on a hill. Its church dominated all the houses’) (prototypical locative case)
Another interesting feature of the possessive determiner is that besides the
Inge Bartning
prototypical cases which allow pronominalization by the possessive determiner, there are discourse (pragmatic) cases which all accept the possessive determiner (Bartning 1989; Gross 1986; Schapira 1997). The feature +habitual/topical seems to be involved in these interpretations: (33) a.
ton Platini ‘your Platini’ (Gross 1986) b. Voyez Mme Barzach, la sainte patronne des médecins, leur protectrice. Ce n’est pas elle qui critiquera ses chers médecins ‘her dear doctors’ (NO1168: 9) c. Il nous a montré son cinéma ‘his cinema’
These discourse cases (‘habitual’) do not accept de lui even if the N2 is human: (34) le café de Paul/*de lui ‘the café of him’ (35) la rue de grand-père/*de lui ‘the street of him’
One can thus conclude that son and de lui are not equivalent. Son is accepted by the possessive and habitual/topical cases, whereas de lui functions with agent and origine. The pragmatic interpretation son N1 is thus more ‘possessive’ than de lui. To sum up, the possessive determiner does not distinguish between groups A and B although there are restrictions within the groups. As far as the discourse cases are concerned, the data are more complicated, since there is also a ‘‘discursive’’ possessive determiner with a meaning which varies according to extra-linguistic knowledge (ton Platini). However, the possessive determiner is not applicable to the real discourse cases of NP de NP constructions connected to the text by previous mention, such as l’homme de la cheminée. So in this case the possessive determiner serves as one of the criteria that support the two level model. We can conclude that the feature [+animate] is important but not necessary in pronominalization using a possessive determiner. In other words the possessive determiner prefers human and animate N2 in prototypical relations but it also accepts inanimate N2 in locative and P/W relations. Additionally, in pragmatic/discourse cases, it applies to human N2 and the feature [+habitual] but not in the contextual/discourse cases. There remains, however, much to be done in the study of the syntax and semantics of the possessive determiner in
Typology of French NP de NP structures
French. (For a new approach of analysis of the possessive determiner, see Kleiber To appear)
. Where is ‘possession’ to be found in the NP de NP system? As we have seen, the distinction of the two levels, the discourse level and the NP level facilitates the identification of ‘possession’ in the NP de NP system. Possession is thus to be found at the micro-level as the kernel meaning of the A group and it is paraphrasable with ‘N1 avoir N2’ or ‘N2 appartenir à N1’. The B group cases do not express possession but origin and agentive relationships paraphrasable with ‘être de NP2’ (cf. 26 and 27 above). This micro-level is opposed to the macro-level which includes the pragmatic and discourse cases as can be seen in Table 3: the meaning of the adnominal NP2 and even the possessive determiner at the pragmatic discourse level is not pure possession but that of ‘habitualness’ or ‘topicality’. As further evidence for the two levels, it has been shown that the possessive determiner is not possible in the purely contextual cases nor are the paraphrases with ‘avoir’ ou ‘appartenir à’: Table 3. Possession in the NP de NP-system 1. Prototypical
2. Discursive/Pragmatic (habitual/topical)
3. Discursive/Contextual
le chapeau de Paul son chapeau possession
le café de Paul son café NOT possession
l’homme de la cheminée *son homme NOT possession
More precisely, the possessive determiner is possible in group A, as is shown in Table 4 below, in the attributive, Part/Whole and Locative cases, and is still possible in the interpretations of the group B: origin and agentive, among the prototypical cases (cf. 30 above). At the pragmatic level the possessive determiner has habitual or topical meaning but cannot be applied to the pure contextual cases like l’homme de la cheminée/*son homme. The structures être de lui and de lui are accepted by the ‘origin’ and ‘agent’ cases in group B but not by the two discursive cases, as we also can see from Table 4.
Inge Bartning
Table 4. The distribution of the possessive determiner
.
Prototypical (micro level) Group A: Group B:
Possessive determiner OK OK
(être) de lui * OK
Discursive (macro level) Pragma: Context:
OK *
* *
Concluding remarks
Naturally, this study does not claim to have identified the typology of interpreting NP de NP. Our model, however, shows that it is necessary to distinguish between two different levels, the discourse level and the complex NP level, the micro-structure, in order to grasp much of the work that the little word de can perform between two NPs. Thus, it is suggested that the NP de NP of the micro-structure level is decoded by the meaning imposed by the semantic and argumental properties of N1 and sometimes by those of N2. We have called them the prototypical cases of the construction, because through semantic resemblance they are connected to two essential relationships, that of ‘possession’ and that of ‘origin’, and the number of relationships they are involved in is limited. Certain syntactic tests have confirmed the distinction of the two levels. The interpretation of the discursive NP de NP construction, on the other hand, is accomplished at the textual level in a wide sense. These syntagms are only understood by taking into account interpretations which depend on previous discourse and the textual interval and/or extra-linguistic knowledge.
Acknowledgements I would like to thank Andrée Borillo, Mats Forsgren, Georges Kleiber and Beatrice Warren for their valuable comments on earlier drafts of this chapter. This is a modified and expanded version in English of Bartning (1996). The examples are taken from Engwall (1984), from the COSTO corpus (Engwall and Bartning 1989), French newspapers and novels, e.g. Duras, Le Clézio, Ernaux. It would be interesting to include other cases in an enlarged integrated model of NP structures containing de, e.g. quantitative cases (une bande
Typology of French NP de NP structures
de voyous), qualitative cases (fripon de valet), compounds, cases of destination and characterization (la table du piquet, l’homme de la discipline).
References Anscombre, J.-C. 1995. “Morphologie et représentation événementielle: le cas des noms de sentiment et d’attitude’’. Langue française 105: 40–54. Baron, I. 1992. “Les syntagmes nominaux complexes dans les textes juridiques francais’’. Hermes, Journal of linguistics 9: 19–42. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. 1997. “The Danish verb have and the notion of possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 131–157. Copenhagen Business School. Bartning, I. 1980. Remarques sur la syntaxe et la sémantique des pseudo-adjectifs. Stockholm: AWE International. Bartning, I. 1987. “L’interprétation des syntagmes binominaux en de en français contemporain’’. Cahiers de grammaire 12: 1–64. Bartning, I. 1989. “Le déterminant possessif et les compléments adnominaux en de’’. Revue romane 24: 163–203. Bartning, I. 1990. “Les syntagmes binominaux en de–les types interprétatifs subjectifs et agentifs’’. Actes du Xe congrès des romanistes scandinaves, Lund, 10–14 août 1987. Etudes romanes de Lund 45: 20–34. Bartning, I. 1993. “La préposition de et les interprétations possibles des syntagmes nominaux complexes. Essai d’approche cognitive’’. Lexique 11: 163–191. Bartning, I. 1996. “Eléments pour une typologie des SN complexes en de en français’’. Langue française 109: 29–43. Bartning, I. 1998. “Modèle intégré des syntagmes binominaux en de–typologie d’interprétations et reprise anaphorique’’. Romanische Forschungen 110: 165–184. Cadiot, P. 1989. “La préposition : interprétation par codage et interprétation par inférence’’. Cahiers de grammaire 14: 25–50. Cadiot, P. 1991. La préposition POUR. De la grammaire à la cognition. Paris: Éditions CNRS. Corblin, F. 1987. Indéfini, défini et démonstratif. Geneva, Paris : Droz. Duras, M. 1985. L’Amant. Paris: Minuit. (= L’Amant I) Duras, M. 1991. L’Amant de la Chine du Nord. Paris: Gallimard. (= L’Amant II) Durieux, F. 1990. “The meanings of the specifying genitive in English. A cognitive analysis’’. Antwerp Papers in Linguistics 66. Englebert, A. 1992. Le « petit mot » DE. Etude de sémantique historique. Geneva-Paris: Droz. Engwall, G. 1984. Vocabulaire du roman (1962–1968). Dictionnaire des fréquences. Data linguistica 17. Stockholm: AWE International. Engwall, G. and Bartning, I. 1989. “Le COSTO — description d’un corpus journalistique’’. Moderna språk LXXXII: 343–348. Eriksson, O. 1980. “L’étiquette (fixée) sur la valise — l’étiquette de la valise — l’étiquette de valise’’. Studia Neophilologica 52: 389–414.
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Flaux, N. 1992. “Les syntagmes nominaux du type Le fils d’un paysan : référence définie ou indéfinie?’’ Le Français moderne LX: 23–45. Fradin, B. 1984. “Anaphorisation et stéréotypes nominaux’’. Lingua 64: 325–369. Fraurud, K. 1990. “Definiteness and the Procession of Noun Phrases in Natural Discourse’’. Journal of Semantics 7: 395–433. Fraurud, K. 1996. “Cognitive ontology and NP form’’. In Reference and Referent Accessibility, T. Fretheim and J. K. Gundel (eds), 65–87. Amsterdam: Benjamins. Gaatone, D. 1986. “Problèmes de possessivation en français’’. Actes du 17e congrès international de linguistique et philologie romanes, vol. 4: 225–231. Godard, D. 1986. “Les déterminants possessifs et les compléments de nom’’. Langue française 72: 102–122. Gross, G. 1986. “Syntaxe du déterminant possessif ’’. In Détermination : syntaxe et sémantique, J. David and G. Kleiber (eds), 89–111. Paris: Klincksieck. Gross, G. 1991. “Syntaxe du complément du nom’’. Lingvisticae Investigationes XV: 255–284. Guillaume, G. 1919. Le problème de l’article et sa solution dans la langue française. Paris: Hachette. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive Sources, Forces and Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Herslund, M. 1980. Problèmes de syntaxe de l’ancien français. Compléments datifs et génitifs [Etudes romanes de l’Université de Copenhague 21]. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Kleiber, G. 1981. Problèmes de référence : descriptions définies et noms propres. Paris: Klincksieck. Kleiber, G. 1997. “Des anaphores associatives méronymiques aux anaphores associatives locatives’’. Verbum XIX: 26–66. Kleiber, G. 1999a. “Anaphore associative et relation partie/tout: condition d’aliénation et principe de congruence ontologique’’. Langue française 122: 70–100. Kleiber, G. 1999b. Problèmes de sémantique. La polysémie en questions. Lille: Presses universitaires du Septentrion. Kleiber, G. To appear. ‘‘Le possessif via l’anaphore associative’’. Paper presented at the international congress ‘‘From NP to DP’’, Antwerp, 10–12 February 2000. Kleiber, G., Schnedecker, C. and Ujma, I. 1994. “L’anaphore associative, d’une conception à l’autre’’. In L’anaphore associative. (Aspects linguistiques, psycholinguistiques et automatiques) [Recherches Linguistiques de Metz, XIX], C. Schnedecker, M. Charolles, G. Kleiber and J. David (eds), 5–64. Paris: Klincksieck. Langacker, R. W. 1995. “Possession and possessive constructions’’. In Language and the Cognitive Construal of the World [Trends in Linguistics 82], J. R. Taylor and R. E. MacLaury (eds), 51–79. Berlin-New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Levi, J. 1978. The Syntax and Semantics of Complex Nominals. New York, San Fransisco, London: Academic Press. Milner, J.-C. 1982. Ordres et raisons de langue. Paris: Seuil. Pustejovsky, J. 1993. “Type coercion and lexical selection’’. In Semantics and the Lexicon, J. Pustejovsky (ed.), 73–94. Dordrecht: Kluwer. Reboul, A. 1993. “Le poids des pères, le choc des fils : prédicats de phase, modificateurs et identification’’. Cahiers de linguistique française 14: 229–46.
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Riegel, M. 1985. L’adjectif attribut. Paris: PUF. Riegel, M. 1994. “Article défini, anaphore intra-propositionnelles et relation Partie/tout’’. In L’Anaphore associative, C. Schnedecker, M. Charolles, G. Kleiber and J. David (eds), 233–250. Paris: Klincksieck. Riegel, M., Pellat, J.-C. and Rioul, R. 1994. Grammaire méthodique du français. Paris : PUF. Schapira, C. 1997. “Quelques emplois non possessifs de l’adjectif possessif: valeurs aspectuelles et valeurs modales’’. In Actos do XIX Congreso Internacional de Lingüística e Filoloxía Románicas [Tome 1. Sección 1. Lingüística Teórica e Lingüística Sincrónica], R. Lorenzo (ed.), 185–196. A Coruña: Fundación Conde de Fenosa. Seiler, H. 1983. Possession as an Operational Dimension of Language. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Stage, L. 1986. “Franske substantivers valens’’. CEBAL 8: 204–29. Spang Hanssen, E. 1963. Les prépositions incolores du français moderne. Copenhagen: Gad. Warren, B. 1984. Classifying adjectives [Gothenburg Studies in English 56]. Gothenburg: AWE International. Warren, B. Forthcom. “The role of links and/or Qualia in modifier head constructions’’. Winston, M. E., Chaffin, R., and Herrmann, D. 1987. “A Taxonomy of Part-Whole relations’’. Cognitive Science 11: 417–444.
Chapter 9
Spanish N de N structures from a cognitive perspective Henrik Høeg Müller
.
Introduction
Possession is a category that manifests itself linguistically in a number of ways, e.g. through specific verbs, pronouns, prepositions and other morphemes. In this paper I will confine myself to commenting on the Spanish complex NP of the type las aves del bosque ‘the birds of the forest’, i.e. the N de N structure. If we search in the Spanish grammatical literature for a description of the meaning of the preposition de, it is very common to run into the word “possession’’ in one of the first lines of this description (see e.g. Gili Gaya 1993: 251, Escandell Vidal 1995: 39, Lagunilla and Rebollo 1995: 245). It is often claimed that de, at least to a certain extent, or in some non-specified manner, should be associated with the fundamental, extralinguistic category of possession. However, several authors moderate this possessional approach by stating that of course many applications of de cannot be said to express possession in a direct or overt sense, but nevertheless maybe in some sort of abstract or indirect manner.→ It is as if there is a tendency towards attaching maximum importance or a kind of first priority to the domain of possession, maybe because of its status as a universal concept in our society, in the sense that all languages seem to have conventionalized ways of encoding possession linguistically (Heine 1997: 1). This almost automatic linkage of the preposition de with the notion of possession could probably also be due to the assumption that de-constructions very frequently involve some aspects of possession. To my knowledge, however, there is no statistical evidence for such an allegation, and another problem in this connection is the lack of a watertight definition of possession. If we look at the examples listed in (1), it would be somewhat odd, and in my opinion intuitively wrong, to maintain that they express even the vaguest form of possession.
Henrik Høeg Müller
(1) a.
b.
c.
d.
e.
f.
g.
h.
i.
j.
k.
l.
La casa de la colina the house of the hill ‘The house of(on) the hill’ La fiesta de ayer the party of yesterday ‘Yesterday’s party’ Los jamones de Extremadura the hams of Extremadura ‘The hams of (from) Extremadura’ El ruido del coche the noise of.the car ‘The noise of the car’ Los periodistas de El País the journalists of El País ‘The journalists of El País’ Los televisores de Philips the TV-sets of Philips ‘The TV-sets of Philips’ La dieta del equipo de fútbol the diet of.the team of football ‘The diet of the football team’ La carta de María the letter of María ‘The letter from María’ Las ramas del árbol the branches of.the tree ‘The branches of the tree’ El padre de Juan the father of Juan ‘The father of Juan’ La llegada de Pedro the arrival of Pedro ‘The arrival of Pedro’ La destrucción de la ciudad the destruction of the city ‘The destruction of the city’
Location
Time
Origin
Cause
Working relation
Producer
The diet that they follow
Sender
Part–whole
Kinship
Subjective genitive
Objective genitive
Spanish N de N structures
. Prototypicality When we are confronted with the obvious problem that N de N structures sometimes seem to encode a relation whose interpretation deviates substantially from that of possession, the word “prototypicality’’ pops up from time to time. As a means of explaining these deviating constructions and still stick to possession as an overall explanatory frame, the notion of prototypicality comes in handy. Prototypicality is often reproduced as a core surrounded by an unspecified number of concentric circles that symbolise either more or less prototypical properties of the notion in question or more or less prototypical members of a certain category. The application of such a model to possession could be illustrated as in Figure 1, the core-meaning of possession being something like permanent and physical control of an object, and the concentric circles indicating different degrees of possession. The more distant an instance of the category is from the core the fewer possessive features it contains and the less possessive the features are, and vice versa. Permanent and physical control of object
Figure 1.
It is not that I basically disagree with this way of representing meaning or suggesting knowledge organization, but because of its fuzziness it provokes some reflections, especially regarding the theoretical consequences of such an approach. First of all we might ask the question: How many concentric circles are there? Or to put it in another way: How far can we move away from the core and still claim an affinity to possession? When coming across a certain N de N structure which has intuitively very little to do with possession, do we just draw another circle stating that this hypothetical example is merely an extremely abstract instance of possession? Another, maybe a little speculative, concern of mine comprises the way we organize prototypical meanings in larger networks in our brains, and how we store these meanings. Assuming that every prototypical meaning forms part of a neural network, which is of course not entirely uncontroversial as we do not
Henrik Høeg Müller
know that much about how we actually organise, store and retrieve knowledge, could it then be that the concentric circles from different core-meanings overlap each other, as shown in Figure 2.
Figure 2.
This would imply that the more an instance of a category moves away from one core the closer it gets to another or to several others. This again makes one think how far an example can diverge from the original core before it enters into the scope of another and actually becomes part of the new core’s circles or range of meaning. Or maybe we could imagine a more chaotic situation where the circles of many prototypical meanings meet, as is illustrated in Figure 3.
Figure 3.
Of course it would be too ambitious and difficult to try to answer all these questions in the present article, but the point is that the notion of prototypicality is not very clearly defined (see, however, Geeraerts 1988 for a thorough discussion of prototypicality) and more importantly it entails quite a number of problems.
. Rejection of possession as a prototypical meaning of N de N structures The idea of the preposition de as giving rise to an ideal meaning which is present to a certain degree in all its uses and aspects must be rejected. As we saw before de is used to establish a wide range of different semantic relationships, and only some of them can be interpreted as expressing possession in the ordinary sense of the word. Hence explaining the Spanish N de N structure through an alleged basic relationship e.g. to possession, or location for that matter, or any other prototypical meaning one might claim could be invoked
Spanish N de N structures
by de, seems futile. We simply cannot attribute a well-defined set of semantic relations to the formal syntactic features of the de-construction, because there is no systematic correlation between the syntactic and the semantic levels. The extralinguistic category of possession should not be directly associated with special linguistic elements or certain morphological patterns, as they are likely to express other concepts than for example possession. What should be emphasized is, in summary, and from a more general perspective, that there is no one-to-one relation between linguistic facts and real-world phenomena. But with the rejection of prototypicality and possession as being of central importance to the basic interpretation of the N de N structure, it would of course be natural to ask what kind of relation can be rendered by de and how such a structure should then be explained.
. The preposition de as a cognitive primitive As regards the analysis of the function of the preposition de inside an NP, I suggest that we reverse the angle or turn the viewpoint upside down, so to speak. Instead of regarding the multiple semantic relations invoked by de as different forms or levels of abstraction from a core meaning, I propose that it is precisely the abstractness or the non-specification that should constitute the basic explanatory point of departure. This statement calls for some explanation. As the associations encoded by de can be so multifaceted semantically, we must conclude that no overt specification of the relation between the two nouns is imposed by de. The preposition functions as a predicative element that establishes a semantically highly indeterminate relation between two linguistic representations of entities. In line with other basic cognitive image schemas such as “container’’, “path’’, “causal schemas’’, “abstract goals’’ and so forth, de is a lexical item that performs a basic cognitive operation, i.e. combining or relating entities to each other. In fact de functions as a cognitive primitive, and therefore de-constructions can be qualified as belonging to a pre-possessional category which represents a much more basic cognitive phenomenon than just the concept of possession. The sole task undertaken by de is to relate two objects to each other in a given way that is determined by other factors such as contextual properties, conceptual import of head nouns and world-knowledge.
Henrik Høeg Müller
Regarding N de N constructions as a linguistic encoding of a very basic cognitive ability, is further corroborated by the fact that children use possessive constructions early and often (Barker 1995: 45). The clitic -s is for example among the first fully productive morphemes acquired by English speaking children in early multiword utterances (Villiers and Villiers 1985: 68, quoted in Barker loc. cit.). It is, however, in my opinion very unlikely that children, at an early stage, use and control a linguistic construction that basically expresses an intangible relation, i.e. possession. In this light for example Howe (1976: 29, quoted in Barker loc. cit.) and Slobin (1985: 1179, quoted in Barker ibid.) suggest that the utterance that we might be tempted to interpret as possessive actually expresses a more general relation, and it is explicitly put forward that there is a more general semantic notion that encompasses both possession and locative relationships, which is actually in good keeping with my ideas.
. Analysis of the N de N structure The analysis of the relationship that holds between the two nouns in an N de N construction will be the subject of the rest of this article. As a first step towards a description of the relationship in question it is relevant to establish a general dichotic division between NPs where N2 is referential, and NPs where this is not the case. The examples in (2) illustrate this difference: (2) a.
El carnicero de Madrid the butcher of Madrid ‘The butcher of (from) Madrid’ El traductor del libro the translator of.the book ‘The translator of the book’ El cuadro de Miró the picture of Miró ‘The picture of Miró’ b. El paté de hígado the pâté of liver ‘The liver pâté’ La sortija de matrimonio the ring of wedding ‘The wedding ring’
Spanish N de N structures
La granada de mano the grenade of hand ‘The hand grenade’
In the a-examples the second nouns denote an entity whereas in the b-examples they are non-referential, in the sense that they do not identify an entity but they refer to a concept. This fundamental difference between the two types of constructions can be depicted as shown in Figure 4. a.
Ref Ref N1 DE N2
→
ENTITY
b.
Ref Ref N1 DE N2
→
ENTITY
R
ENTITY
Figure 4.
The difference between them is that the type illustrated in Figure 4a denotes two entities and the other in Figure 4b only one. This means that the preposition in the case of (4a) instructs the recipient of the communication to relate N1 to N2 in such a way that they maintain their status as individual entities, whereas the instruction made by the preposition in Figure 4b is to relate N1, not to another entity, but to a type of entities which denotes an abstract concept. N1 is related to N2 in such a way that N2 classifies or describes N1, and in such a way that they together (the whole construction) only denote one single entity. On this occasion I shall only have something to say about the first type, i.e. Figure 4a. The next step is to find out the nature of the relation that holds between the two nouns. That is, what can be predicted about such a construction based on the meaning of its parts. How does the meaning of this relation depend upon the meanings of its constituents. It has almost become trivial to say that the N de N construction is massively vague, but regardless of this apparent vagueness, there are strong constraints on what the construction can mean. All combinations of nouns are certainly not possible. . The restriction/non-restriction scale The descriptive contents of the N de N construction depends primarily on the denotation of N1. The conceptual knowledge about the domain of the head noun puts constraints on, or say determines, the final interpretation of the
Henrik Høeg Müller
whole construction. In this connection it is important to emphasize that I do not take contextual features into consideration. According to the nature of the head noun we may place the whole construction on a sort of restriction/non-restriction scale, where one end is characterized by constructions open to very few interpretational possibilities, because of the constraints imposed by the head noun, and characteristic of the other end is that the head imposes very few interpretational constraints on the construction. This scale can be illustrated as shown in Figure 5. Conceptual import of head noun
Non-relational nouns
Part/whole
Relational nouns
Nouns denoting objects (bodyparts) Nouns denoting arbitrary parts Nouns denoting persons (kinship)
Inherent
Deverbal nouns Deadjectival nouns
Derived
Figure 5.
The scale in Figure 5 is divided into two main parts according to the relational properties of the nouns in question. The bottom part consists of nouns that are either inherently relational (for a thorough description of these relational nouns see e.g. Herslund 1997) or are morphologically related to predicates.1 The upper part contains nouns that do not refer to external entities, and consequently they are non-relational. It also appears from Figure 5 that the head of a part–whole construction can be both relational and non-relational. In this way the part–whole structure constitutes a sort of intermediate form where nouns that are conventionally recognized as being non-relational actually behave as if they were relational. This could mean that the sharp dichotic division between relational and nonrelational is in reality blurred or maybe even non-existent, a point that I shall return to later on. . Deadjectival nouns Starting from the bottom with the deadjectival nouns, it can be stated that in
Spanish N de N structures
general such derivations are very reluctant to combine with any other noun than the one referring to the entity that is described by the corresponding original adjective. The predicative force of the adjective is transferred to the derived noun, and the noun creates a frame with one or two participants, dependent on the nature of the original adjective, but only one of the participants can be introduced by the preposition de. If the nominalized adjective is derived from a stage-level predicate (Carlson 1979: 53 ff.), it can occur with de-phrases expressing time and place. The examples in (3) show some different deadjectival nouns combined with their corresponding participants, (3a, b), and with prepositional phrases expressing time and place respectively, (3c, d): (3) a.
La inteligencia de Juan the intelligence of Juan ‘The intelligence of Juan’ b. La velocidad del tren the velocity of.the train ‘The velocity of the train’ c. La oportunidad del mes pasado the opportunity of.the month last ‘The opportunity of last month’ d. Las dificultades de la calle the difficulties of the street ‘The difficulties of the street’
The ability of nominalized adjectives to combine with prepositional phrases introduced by de can be modelled as shown in Figure 6. SPACE TIME DEADJECTIVAL NOUN X, (Y)
Figure 6.
Henrik Høeg Müller
The two ‘x, (y)’ indicate the possible participant roles, of which only one, as mentioned before, can be introduced by de. The dotted lines indicate that time and space can be expressed in certain cases, according to the nature of the predicate. . Deverbal nouns The next step is the deverbal nouns. Deverbal nouns can be described as nominal reflections or versions of the state of affairs described by the original base verb and the corresponding participant roles of the verb. The nominalized verb inherits the argument structure of the verb, and consequently the nominalization implies the same type and number of participant roles as the verb (see e.g. Baron 1994, Stage 1994 and Müller 1998). As is the case with the verb, the nominalization establishes a frame of participant roles, which are interrelated in a given way, determined by the lexical make-up of the nominalization. This implies on the syntactic level that every noun introduced by the preposition de must be interpreted according to the frame established by the deverbal head noun, i.e. syntactically they will function as either subject or object. The examples in (4) contain deverbal head nouns expanded with different types of participants: (4) a.
La descripción del paisaje the description of.the landscape ‘The description of the landscape’ b. La entrega de las mercancías the delivery of the goods ‘The delivery of the goods’ c. La llegada de Juan the arrival of Juan ‘The arrival of Juan’
As opposed to the deadjectival nouns, however, all deverbal nouns can always be anchored temporally. This emplies that temporal prepositional phrases introduced by de can occur with deverbal nouns. In Figure 7 the predicative potential of deverbal nouns is reproduced. A general difference between deverbal nouns and other nouns that denote processes, events, states or actions on one hand, and all other nouns on the other, is that the members of the first group denote abstract entities, while the members of the other denote concrete entities.
Spanish N de N structures
SPACE TIME DEVERBAL NOUN X, Y, (Z)
Figure 7.
Typical of concrete entities is that they can be located in space by a prepositional phrase, whereas their placement in time usually requires a regular predication in the form of a relative clause for example. A concrete entity combined with a prepositional phrase expressing time forms a construction that is open to an infinite number of context dependent possibilities of interpretation, as in (5a). (5a) could mean “the car we saw yesterday’’, “the car that broke down yesterday’’, etc. But when a concrete entity forms an NP with a place adverbial, only one interpretation is possible, i.e. the concrete entity is located in the place denoted by the de-phrase, as in (5b) which means “the car that is in the garage’’. However, when an abstract entity as head of an NP is modified by a de-phrase expressing time, the interpretational possibilities are also narrowed down to one, which can be paraphrased to something like “to take place’’.2 The combination “abstract noun + locative prepositional phrase’’ normally requires that N2 is introduced by a preposition different from de. These final observations are illustrated in (5cd): (5) a.
El coche de ayer the car of yesterday ‘Yesterday’s car’ b. El coche del garaje the car of.the garage ‘The car in the garage’ c. La entrega de ayer the delivery of yesterday ‘Yesterday’s delivery’
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d. La llegada en/*de la estación the arrival at/*of the station ‘The arrival at/*of the station’
We can say that the different nature of the head nouns makes them more or less inclined to combine with prepositional phrases expressing either time or place. . Inherently relational nouns It is a well-known fact that some nouns, such as kinship terms and nouns denoting body parts etc. have an argument structure without being morphologically related to predicates. These relational nouns refer to external entities, in that they imply a necessary existence of something or somebody to whom or which the noun in question can be related. The concept of mother for instance necessarily entails as part of its lexical denotation an offspring. In reality, the definition of this type of relational nouns does not differ substantially from that of nouns related to predicates. This type of relational nouns can be divided into three groups according to their denotational characteristics. In the first group, (6), the head nouns denote quantities and arbitrary parts, in the second, (7), they denote persons, and in the third, (8), physical objects: (6) a.
La parte de Juan the part of Juan ‘The part of Juan/Juan’s part’ b. El porcentaje del banco the percentage of.the bank ‘The percentage of the bank’ c. La mayoría de PSOE the majority of PSOE ‘The majority of PSOE/PSOE’s majority’ d. Los centilitros de la probeta the centilitres of the test tube ‘The centilitres in the test tube’
(7) a.
Las madres de la Plaza de Mayo the mothers of the Square of May ‘The mothers of the May Square’
Spanish N de N structures
b. Las madres solteras del mercado laboral the mothers single of.the market labour ‘The single mothers of the labour market’ c. El padre del clan Kennedy the father of.the clan Kennedy ‘The father of the Kennedy clan’ d. La madre de la pedagoga the mother of the pedagogue ‘The mother of the pedagogue’ (8) a.
La nariz de la chica the nose of the girl ‘The nose of the girl’ b. Las narices del departamento patológico the noses of.the department patological ‘The noses of the patological department’ c. La cabeza de la estatua the head of the statue ‘The head of the statue’ d. Las cabezas del museo the heads of.the museum ‘The heads of the museum’
Looking at the examples in (6), we can observe that apart from their relational interpretation the de-phrases can impose another, non-relational meaning on the whole construction.3 (6a) and (6b) could be interpreted as that part or percentage of something to which Juan and el banco are entitled, i.e. possession in some way, (6c) as PSOE’s majority of the voters, and (6d) must be interpreted locationally as the centilitres (of a liquid) that are in the test tube. Passing on to the group where the head nouns denote persons i.e. (7), we notice the same duplicity as was the case in the first group. The relational nouns denoting persons can occur with argumental, prepositional expansions, and, as indicated in the examples, with non-argumental ones. In (7c), el padre del clan Kennedy ’the father of the Kennedy clan’, the head noun should not be interpreted as standing in a father relation to the entity denoted by the second noun. The head noun padre ‘father’ does not act as a relational noun, but as an independent, non-relational noun, because the person in question (Joseph Kennedy) is not the father of all the members of
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the clan. In addition to the kinship reading (7d), la madre de la pedagoga ‘the mother of the pedagogue’, could be interpreted in the right context as for instance the mother with whom the pedagogue of the kindergarten has a special contact, and consequently not her own mother. However, such a reading will undoubtedly seem marginal to most people, although it is most certainly possible. It is as if we are more likely to accept relational nouns in the plural as heads of non-relational constructions. Plural common nouns like mothers denote sets whose elements are identical in the sense that the members of the set all share a mother-relation to an offspring. The creation of a set on the basis of individual role expressions like mother enables us to deemphasize the relational aspect of the single members of the set, and instead focus on how the set acts as an integrated individual entity in a context. We could say that the set establishes its own identity which is not necessarily linked to the relational characteristics of the individual elements. We are simply more inclined to perceive relational nouns in the plural as isolated groups of things or persons who can act independently of their relational properties. Consequently relational nouns in the singular generally have a stronger tendency to bind themselves to their external arguments than is the case when they occur in the plural. Part–whole structures As indicated in Figure 5 both the relational nouns denoting physical objects and the relational nouns denoting quantities and arbitrary parts refer to the constitutive parts of an entity and thus they presuppose the whole of which they form part. But whereas the nouns of the second group only receive a meaning in function of the entity to which they belong, the nouns of the first group have their own specific, individual meaning. It is most certainly possible to identify an arm or a leg independently of the body they are or were part of, but it does not make any sense to try to point out a part or a centilitre of something without knowing what that something is. The examples in (8) indicate that the so-called prototypical members of the group of relational nouns denoting physical objects, i.e. body parts, show the same pattern as the constructions in (6) and (7). Either they are interpreted in accordance with their relational content as in (8ac), or they act as independent “normal’’ non-relational nouns as in (8bd). Returning to Figure 5 again we can observe that part–whole constructions can occur with a head which is conventionally considered to be non-relational. This is of course not controversial in any way, as we are used to structures like
Spanish N de N structures
(9a, c) where the non-relational nouns ventana ‘window’ and techo ‘roof ’ constitute the heads of part–whole structures: (9) a.
La ventana de la casa the window of the house ‘The window of the house’ b. La ventana del vidriero the window of.the glazier ‘The window of the glazier’ c. El techo del coche the roof of.the car ‘The roof of the car’ d. Los techos del almacén4 the roofs of.the stock ‘The roofs of the stock’
The reason why we normally think of arms and legs as being relational is that they imply the existence of a whole (a body) and they function as arms and legs in relation to that body. This situation is exactly analogous to what is seen in (9ac). These two examples are part–whole constructions in which the head nouns ventana ‘window’ and techo ‘roof ’ imply the existence of entities that can function as wholes, and the nouns can be described as entities that function as a window and a roof in relation to la casa ‘the house’ and el coche ‘the car’. Moreover the same head nouns in (9bd) cannot qualify as relational in those particular contexts, because they do not function as a window or as roofs in relation to el vidriero ‘the glazier’ or el almacén ‘the stock’.5 In other words we can distinguish between a functional interpretation according to which ventana ‘window’ and techo/techos ‘roof/roofs’ act as relational nouns and a non-functional interpretation where this is not the case. So the examples in (9) are actually totally parallel to the ones in (8). The conclusion of these observations must be that if a noun, no matter whether it has been preclassified as relational or not, forms part of a partial de-construction as head it functions as a relational noun in that particular context. It can also be deduced from Figure 5 that not all nouns of the upper part of the scale can form part of a part–whole construction. Nouns like e.g. coche ‘car’ and árbol ‘tree’, which constitute complete, independent entities, cannot be head nouns of partial de-constructions. Another important aspect in this discussion, which shall just be mentioned briefly here, is the interrelation between partial and locative constructions. All
Henrik Høeg Müller
part–whole structures are in fact locative because an entity cannot under any circumstances constitute a part of another entity without being positioned in relation to that entity. However, it must be emphasized that in contrast to the partial constructions not all de-constructions with a locative content are relational, as example (10) indicates: (10) Los árboles del campo the trees of.the field ‘The trees of(in) the field’
It cannot be claimed that the head noun árboles ‘trees’ functions as trees in relation to el campo ‘the field’, and consequently the NP in question should not be qualified as a relational construction. The trees are simply placed in the field, and hence (10) is a purely locative construction without relational contents. The essence of the entire discussion is that a noun is not necessarily either relational or non-relational, but the relational property of a given head noun, if it is present in its lexical make-up at all, can be stimulated or triggered by the other noun of the constellation and the context as such. That some nouns show a stronger tendency than others towards going into relational structures has to do with the fact that in our mental representation of the world we are more inclined to see them either as forming part of kinship relations or as being a part of a whole and not as independent entities. I believe that maintaining a sharp division between relational and nonrelational nouns gives us a distorted picture of reality. Such a division is too rigid to describe a much more complex world.
. Final remarks To summarize, it has been my intention to illustrate four central points with this article: 1. N de N constructions should not be defined with point of departure in the concept of prototypicality. 2. Possession does not constitute an overall meaning frame within which all N de N constructions can be classified. 3. The preposition de should be regarded as a cognitive primitive, whose mere function is to combine entities in a given way.
Spanish N de N structures
4. The interpretation of the N de N structure depends on the restrictive or non-restrictive nature of N1. In general I have hoped to show with this article that the N de N-structure is a much more complex semantic field than just possession.
Notes . Normally only the nouns with an inherent argument structure are referred to as relational, but I also consider the derived nouns to be relational as they too have the faculty of selecting external arguments. . In the case of some nominalizations it is difficult to establish, independently of the context, whether N2 has argumental status or not. The example la descripción de ayer ‘the description of yesterday’ can both be interpreted as “the description that took place yesterday’’ (non-argumental reading) and as “the description of yesterday’’ (argumental reading). If in such cases the non-argumental reading is intended, it would probably be more natural to express the time relation in an alternative way syntactically. . (6d) has no relational reading but only a locative one. . The intended meaning of this construction is “the roofs that some company has on stock’’ and not “the roofs of a certain building that functions as the stock of a company’’. . In this connection of course I ignore the metonymical reading, where el vidriero ‘the glazier’ for example could mean the glazier’s house.
References Barker, C. 1995. Possessive Descriptions. Leland Stanford Junior University: Center for the Study of Language and Information. Baron, I. 1994. “Les syntagmes nominaux français dans une perspective valentielle’’. Mélanges Lucien Tesnière [Linguistica XXXIV, 1], 29–45. Carlson, G. N. 1979. “Generics and Atemporal When’’. Linguistics and Philosophy 3: 49–98. Escandell Vidal, M. V. 1995. Los complementos del nombre. Madrid: Arco Libros. Geeraerts, D. 1988. “Where does prototypicality come from?’’ In Topics in Cognitive Linguistics, B. Rudzka-Ostyn (ed.), 207–229. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Gili Gaya, S. 1993. Curso Superior de Sintaxis Española. Barcelona: Bibliograf. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and inalienable possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Copenhagen Business School.
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Howe, C. J. 1976. “The meaning of two-word utterances in the speech of young children’’. Journal of Child Language 3: 29–47. Lagunilla, M. F. and Rebollo, A. A. 1995. Sintaxis y Cognición. Introducción al conocimiento, el procesamiento y los déficits sintácticos. Madrid: Editorial Sintesis. Müller, H. H. 1998. “Substantivsyntagmer i spansk. En valensanalyse’’. Copenhagen Working Papers in LSP 4: 1–179. Slobin, D. I. 1985. “Crosslinguistic Evidence for the Language-making Capacity’’. In The Crosslinguistic Study of Language Acquisition, Volume 2: Theoretical Issues, D. Slobin (ed.), 1157–1256. Hillsdale, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Stage, L. 1994. “La valence des noms en français’’. In Noun Phrase Structures [Copenhagen Studies in Language 17], 93–133. Villiers, J. G. de and de Villiers, P. A.. 1985. “The Acquisition of English’’. In The Crosslinguistic Study of Language Acquisition, Volume 1: The Data, D. Slobin (ed.), 27–139. Hillsdale, New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Chapter 10
The grammatical category “Possession’’ and the part–whole relation in French Martin Riegel
.
Possession and possession(s)
In French there is no overlap between the fields of application of the nominal and the adjectival derivatives possession and possessif as metalinguistic labels: possession (in-)aliénable, rapport de possession, mot/adjectif/pronom/syntagme possessif et construction/relation/structure possessive, and their everyday use. Indeed, even if there are hesitations and disagreements about its extension, the traditional grammatical notion of “possession’’ goes largely beyond the conjunction of the three main meanings associated with the word possession in common speech: (1) the ownership of goods (la possession d’une voiture), (2) the owned thing, especially estates and territories (les possessions d’un prince), (3), the control over one’s behaviour and faculties (être en possession de toutes ses facultés). The same goes for the five meanings of the verbal root posséder, the three more specific1 of which are not enclosed within the grammatical possession field, but the two main meanings — (a) to have at one’s disposal a thing possessed as its rightful owner, (b) to have an inner quality, an advantage, etc., concerning an animate being — only cover some of the relationships commonly viewed by the grammarians as being of a possessive nature. The evidence is to be seen in the almost unnatural, or even deviant character of the following sentences, in which the verb posséder is supposed to indicate successively the part–whole, the member-group and the parent–parent relationships: (1) (2) (3)
?*Jean
possède des yeux bleus. équipe de football possède onze joueurs. ?*Jean possède deux frères. ?*Une
This divergence between the metalinguistic concept and the ordinary notion of “possession’’ is confirmed by the fact that, except for the adjective possessif
Martin Riegel
in its grammatical sense, the meaning of the other derivatives of the verb posséder (possédant, possesseur, possessionné, possessionnel, possessivité and possessoire) is uniformly built upon the relationship “possession/belonging’’. The ordinary language is thus of little help in grasping the real linguistic counterpart of the metalinguistic concept of “possession’’ and its limitations, be they interpretative or formal. Indeed the concept itself — through the various proposals of definitions, the alternative theoretical models that inspire them and the data that support them — appears to be tremendously vast because it is very flexible.2 Under these circumstances, a well tempered inductive approach will consist in making an inventory of the categories of possession commonly used by grammarians and linguists, with the hope of reducing them to a common denominator (which could accomodate other categories than those that helped establish it). This is what I will first try to do by identifying the extension of the possession concept in French with four basic forms, then by reducing those forms to a unique formula which associates three syntactic patterns to a very global type, although well determined, of mereological configuration. To conclude, I will defend the hypothesis that possession thus defined is instantiated in four categories, one of which (the organic part–whole relationship) is central in relation to the three others.
. The possessive relationship under all aspects . Four species of the same kind In his analysis of “the semantic structure of the possessive constructions’’ of four European languages (German, English, French and Hungarian), Fónagy (1975) distinguishes ten relationships of the possessive kind, that all fit in the syntactic mould N1–de–N2. I will keep the three first as they are, where N1 is interpreted respectively as the thing possessed by the owner N2, as N2’s parent (but also the affective or social partner) and as part of the whole N2,3 while adding the set relationship between a collective entity N2 and its elements N1. Besides the instantiation of the N1–de–N2 sequence those four kinds of relationship have been submitted to three other tests: the predicative verbalization of the relationship into a sentence N2–V–N1, the substitution of a possessive determiner for de–N2 and the possibility of a characterizing prepositional construction à–definite article–N1–(Modifier):
The part–whole relation in French
(4)
Jean possède/a trois voitures. a. les trois voitures de Jean/ses trois voitures b. l’homme aux trois voitures (blanches)
(5)
Jean ?*possède/a dix-huit frères. a. les dix-huit frères de Jean /ses dix-huit frères b. l’homme aux dix-huit frères (moustachus)
(6)
Une voiture, ça ?*possède/a quatre roues. a. les quatre roues de la voiture/ses quatre roues b. la voiture aux roues voilées
(6¹)
Jean ?*possède/a un nez bulbeux. a. le nez bulbeux de Jean/son nez bulbeux b. l’homme aux nez bulbeux/à la moustache (grise)
(7)
Une équipe de football ?*possède/a onze joueurs. a. les onze joueurs d’une équipe de football /ses onze joueurs b. l’équipe aux (onze) joueurs millionnaires
. The formal unity The result of the tests is clear. The four “possessive’’ relationships are all cast in the same syntactic moulds: 1. The sentence N2–avoir–N1 is used to assert the generic relationship whereas the verb posséder is restricted to the specific relationship of “ownership/belonging’’.4 2. Inverted prepositional construction N1–de–N2 to express the same relationship in a presuppositional mode. 3. Substitution of a possessive determiner for the prepositional phrase [de–N2] of the previous construction. 4. Possibility of modifying N2 by a prepositional phrase [à–definite article–N1–(Modifier)] with a characterizing value. The conjunction of these four criteria is sufficiently discriminatory to eliminate the undesirable couples that would only satisfy the second and third criterion (for instance la construction du pont/sa construction/?*Un pont a une construction/?*le pont à la construction hardie). Is there a conceptual counterpart to this formal unity? And, if such is the case, how does the first part explain the second? And if the association of these two leads to a suitable and
Martin Riegel
operative definition of the linguistic notion of possession, what are the extension and the internal organization of this conceptual category? . The conceptual convergences From a conceptual point of view, what do couples respectively composed of an owner and of an object he or she owns, or of two related people, or of a whole and one of its parts, or even of a collective entity and one of its elements have in common? It is not the nature — indeed basically variable — of the terms that compose the couples. However it is possible to see that, in the four specific relationships, the second term of each of these couples establishes with the first an instance of the same generic relationship. This relationship, which needs to be very abstract, has three characteristics: it is oriented, it links two distinct (but not necessarily disconnected) entities and it locates the second, in a way or in another, in the field determined by its relationship with the first. This field can be of a topological nature (whole–part or set relationships), of an (inter)connective nature (kinship), and/or of a dependency nature (ownership/belonging). In the diagrams below, which represent the four instances of the relationship, the term that determines the field is illustrated by a striped shape, the one located in the field is shown by a black illustration, the field itself being represented by a circle or a white oval shape. (8)
Père
Mère Pé
[I]
Pr X
F1
F2 [IV]
[II]
[III]
The diagram I shows the relationship between an organic part and its whole, illustrated by the sentence (6¹) above. The whole which is the person named Jean constitutes the field as it is (hence the overlap of the striped circle and the white one). The nose, as a part, occupies . . . a part of this field. From a
The part–whole relation in French
topological point of view, the relationship can be identified as a unilateral overlap:5 what is in the part is necessarily in the whole, but what is in the whole is not necessarily in the part. This organic relationship between a whole and its elements is perfectly embodied in the topological continuity and the functional interdependence of the parts of the human body that cannot be removed from the whole otherwise than artificially. A competing model of this pattern is to be found in the topological and functional integration of the parts (or components) into machines and mechanisms from which they are often removable (hence the possibility of standard spare parts). The diagram II symbolizes the relationship, illustrated in (7), between a collective entity and its elements. It is only different from [I] because of the discontinuity (disjunction) of the elements inside the whole, each being endowed with an individual autonomy. Contrary to the limbs and organs of the human body or to the components of an engine, the members of a football team or the animals of a herd are individuals that exist regardless of the others even if their collective coexistence implies a spatial proximity and/or a functional interdependence. Thus, even if the collective entity represents as such the reference field, its members are located in a less cohesive way than the organic parts of a whole. The kinship can be represented with a network of hierarchic relationships of consanguinity and alliances in which each node identifies a “parental role’’ (for instance father, sister, etc.) and in which the branch that links two nodes designates the kinship between two individuals both endowed with a parental role (for instance being the sister of/brother of, for a man and woman of the same parents). In diagram III F1 and F2 are two men, Pierre and Paul, with respect to whom X (a third person called Jean) plays the parental role “brother’’. The three of them are united by the kinship “being brother of ’’ that determines the specific parental field of “brotherhood’’. In this case the relationship is oriented since Jean is identified as a brother in relation with Pierre and Paul. At this point it is enough to underline that to identify someone as being a brother necessarily means to place him like a node in the specific network of the kinship where it is linked to other nodes. The relation ownership/belonging represented by diagram IV and illustrated by (4) places what is possessed in a field that gathers together all the belongings of a same owner. It is a specific dependency relation between two distinct entities, such that a person exclusively possesses an individual or a distinct object (for instance a slave, a cat, a car, an estate, a book, etc.). Thus all these four relationships can be reduced to a semantic common
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denominator that Bally (1926) defined in a seminal article as being the “solidarité’’ relationship between an element and the “sphère personnelle’’ to which it belongs. Being the symbolic equivalent of domaine, sphère perfectly evokes the notion of the conceptual space within which the defining spotting of the conceptual entities (the parts, the elements, the parental roles and the possessed objects) is carried out. But the adjective personnel is more annoying if we consider that the second term of the whole–part and element–collective entity relationships represents a sphere that is not necessarily a person’s. A more thorough study of the way the four relationships instantiate the same general relationship will give a more accurate idea of the paradigmatic unity and its prototypical organization.
. A paradigm with a prototypical basis . The degree of integration into the field of “possession’’ .. The part–whole relation According to the ontology of a language like French it is undoubtedly the part–whole relation that appears to be the more integrative. As we mentioned before, the organic parts are linked in a consubstantial way to the whole in which they are continuously integrated. In this regard the parts of the body or of other natural objects such as plants, places, etc., reveal a maximum degree of integration and of interdependence within and with the whole (and thus with each other). There are only few exceptions (hair loss, leaves or fruit falling from the tree) that are naturally removable. Hence the parts are immediately viewed as constituents and thus not removable from the whole in which they are said, in French, to be incluses, comprises or contenues. This interdependence has revealing linguistic counterparts: 1. If it is impossible to define a part “naturally’’ without relating it to its whole in a partitive way, the definition of a whole is also worthless without its principal parts, the ones that are functional and perceptively prominent, unless one wishes to distort the image of the object to be defined: (9) Un manche est la partie d’un outil ou d’un instrument par lequel on peut le tenir. (10) Un couteau est un instrument pour couper fait d’une lame et d’un manche.
The part–whole relation in French
2. A whole severed of one of its parts loses typicality. If a conjunction of parts is missing, it jeopardizes its categorial belonging (the whole is no longer identified as such). Finally the deletion of all the parts leads to the deletion of the whole and, conversely, the existence of the part implies the existence of the whole: (11) a. Un chat sans oreilles, c’est un drôle de chat. b. Un chat sans oreilles, sans pattes, sans queue et sans yeux, ce n’est plus un chat. c. Un chat sans oreilles, sans pattes, sans queue, sans yeux, etc. [etc.= from which all the parts are abstracted], n’existe plus. d. Une oreille qui n’est pas une oreille de quelqu’un ou d’un animal, ça n’existe pas.
3. When the objects that are parts are given a name, there is generally only this name — that names them as such (hence in French the designation nom de partie) — available to designate them in common speech. Whereas under normal circumstances I can designate (and thus categorize) a person by choosing between one of the terms homme, commerçant, échevin, voisin, etc., I can only designate the object that is his or her knee with the term genou. It just shows that the linguistic identification of this kind of referent is mainly determined by its status as “part of something else’’, since it cannot really be categorized otherwise. Thus we can explain the fact that, for such a thing, the loss of the status of part is equivalent to the loss of its essence, hence of its existence — which is the interpretation of (11d). .. The element–collective entity relationship The overall structure of a collective entity such as a football team appears less cohesive because of the discontinuity of the members that make it up. Each player is an individual endowed, as a principle, with an automatic spatiotemporal autonomy that transforms itself into a strong functional interdependence during the games. Thus it will not be said that a player est inclus, est compris or est contenu dans but rather appartient à, fait partie d’une équipe. Since the elements and the collective entity interdefine each other, the deletion of some elements undermines the categorial identity of the collective entity, and the cancellation of all the elements ruins its existence: (12) a. Celui qui commande une équipe sur le terrain est son capitaine. b. Une équipe de football comprend un gardien de but, un libéro, deux arrières latéraux, etc.
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c.
Une équipe de football sans gardien de but, ce n’est plus vraiment une équipe de football. d. Enlevez tous les joueurs d’une équipe de football, elle cesse d’exister.
However an individual may lose his or her status as a member of a collectivity (a player may be expelled from the team, the team may be dissolved) without questioning its existence. The real linguistic counterpart of this ontological separation is to be seen in the fact that the referent designated by a name that categorizes it as an element belonging to a collective entity can still have other denominative categorizations: (12) e.
Si Jean est exclu de l’équipe de football, il continue néanmoins d’exister, mais n’est plus un joueur de l’équipe. f. Si l’équipe de football cesse d’exister, ses joueurs continuent d’exister, mais ne sont plus des joueurs de l’équipe. g. Le capitaine de l’équipe est un commerçant avisé, un bon père, un époux fidèle et un excellent saxophoniste.
As a result, the consubstantial continuity and the interdependence of the parts within the whole have been replaced by the individual discontinuity of the elements found in the collective entity which influences their topological regrouping and/or their functional interdependence. .. The kinship relation A kinship can be described as a predicate that assigns to each of its two arguments a parental role. A father, for instance, is a person of masculine gender viewed according to his relationship with the person(s) he fathered. The relationship is generally oriented (the two arguments cannot be swapped salva veritate) since it accepts a converse reading: a child (son or daughter) is a person viewed according to its relationship with the two people that conceived him or her. Hence a given parental name is necessarily defined according to its link with the partner(s) that a kinship assigns to it in the field that it determines. The definition is also reversible: (13) a.
Le père et la mère de X sont respectivement celui qui l’a engendré et celle qui lui a donné naissance. b. Un père qui n’a pas (eu) d’enfant(s), ça n’existe pas. c. Le fils ou la fille de X est l’homme ou la femme qui a été engendré par X.
The part–whole relation in French
The consanguineous parental ties biologically and legally outlive the existence of one of the partners. The ties stemming from a union, established by marriage can be legally broken off: (13) d. Un père qui a perdu son fils unique est toujours un père. e. Paul et Jeanne ont divorcé: ils ne sont donc plus mari et femme. f. Paul est resté en bons termes avec son ex-femme.
The same individual generally plays several parental roles, and of course, other roles depending on the status he or she has in society and on the range of his or her activities. Hence the parental names function like relational categorizing terms among a lot of others to characterize and identify an individual: (13) g. Paul est le fils du maire, le mari de Jeanne, le président du club de tennis et le meilleur client du Bar-tabac de la Poste.
This denominative characteristic is the linguistic reflection of a human being’s existential autonomy in relation to his or her parental ties. If the parts and the elements are in their own way included into a whole they, so to speak, additionally make up, it is not the same for a parent and the one he or she is parent of. If Jean is Paul’s fils, not only will we not say that Jean is included into Paul, but such a situation is absolutely inconceivable: from a referential point of view (that is to say in extension) Jean and Paul are individuals hence disconnected entities. But, from an intensional point of view, a fils is an individual who has a position in the network of immediate and mediate consanguineous relationships in which he is characterized by the fact that he is the first argument of the relationship BEING GENERATED BY (x, y). The referent of a parental name is thus included from a relational point of view into the general network of kinship. If we only take into account the necessary relationship between the parent and the one he or she is a parent of, it is this relationship, and not the partner, that is included in the meaning of the kinship term: being the son of Jean does not mean having the propriety of including but of being linked to him by the relation of having been generated by him. From an extensional point of view the parent is thus a component of the referential field that is determined by the relationship he or she has with his or her partner.6 .. The owned thing–owner relationship The verbal forms (a) and (b) are converse forms of one and the same predicate that expresses the fact that an object, rarely a person, is someone’s property:
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(14) a.
posséder, être (le) propriétaire/possesseur de Jean possède/est le propriétaire (possesseur) de ce champ. b. être à, appartenir à, être la propriété de Ce champ est à/appartient à/est la propriété de Jean.
To own an object means to have the right, generally approved and guaranteed by the law, to use it as one wishes and to take the responsibility of its control. All of a person’s owned things thus constitute his or her estate. This estate may be viewed as an extension of the one made up by the parts of a whole (but it is outside the owner) or as the elements of a whole (but the whole of what is owned is physically disconnected from the owner and does not constitute him or her). It is similar to kinship since it is determined by a relationship between an object (the owned thing) and another (the owner), but it is also different because of its mainly contingent nature. Indeed since it is not ontologically written into the nature of objects and beings, this kind of relationship only affects them moderately (goods are alienable, a king’s possessions are due to his title and not to his person). For all these reasons the integration into an estate is by far the looser of the four types of relations mentioned (Riegel 1984). As we saw before, not only does the existence of the owned thing and of its owner not depend on the relationship that binds them together, but this relationship is only exceptionally lexicalized. Indeed few are the couples of words such as chien–maître, esclave–maître, bien–propriétaire, that by definition keep this relationship in their encoded meaning. Hence, in a majority of cases, the owned thing and the owner are designated by ordinary terms, i.e. that do not identify them as such and that are thus not relational terms. As a consequence the existence of a belonging/owning relationship is necessarily and exclusively expressed thanks to lexical and grammatical markers (être à, appartenir à, avoir, posséder, de, être le propriétaire de) that are sometimes ambiguous (Jean is not necessarily the owner of the book in le livre de Jean). Considering what was demonstrated above, I suggest that the French term participation be substituted for possession in order to designate the generic relationship defined at the beginning of Section 2.3 and which subsumes the more specific relationships (part–whole, element–whole, kinship, and owned thing–owner). In addition to these four relationships the “relation de participation’’ will also cover not only such instances as the characterized state–entity relationships (Jean a du courage/le courage de Jean) and characteristic behaviour–characterized entity (Voltaire a un style/le style de Voltaire) but also the
The part–whole relation in French
kind of relationship that constitutes couples such as sujet–roi, ouvrier–patron, élève–professeur, patient–docteur, adepte–gourou, etc. in which the terms are dependent in an intersubjective way. . The part–whole relation, basis of the paradigm of participation relationships Arguments other than those presented in Sections 3.1.1–4 lead us to view the part–whole relation as the most typical instantiation among the “participation’’ relationships because it is the most integrating. The part is a consubstantial component of the whole so that it is not possible to assert it of a specific whole, because it could lead to a tautology. This restriction extends to the element-collective entity relation, insofar as the elements are simply discontinuous parts, to those kinship relations that are necessary, but not to the belonging-property relation (except some cases in which it combines a couple of words that integrate it in their definition): (15) a. Une voiture, ça a un moteur/des roues/un châssis, etc. b. ??La voiture de Jean a un moteur/des roues/un châssis. (16) a. Une équipe de football, ça a des joueurs/un gardien de but b. ??Notre équipe de football a des joueurs/un gardien de but (17) Mon voisin a ??un père/un fils/un frère, etc. (18) a. Mon voisin a une villa/une collection de tableaux. b. Ce maître a un/des esclave(s).
From a syntactic point of view, the integration of the part into the whole is so salient that the identification of it is carried out using the anaphoric definite article when the whole is located in the clausal environment or in the previous co-text. The phenomenon — limited to the components of the part–whole relation — is illustrated by the sentences (19)–(24) where the coindexing indicates the partial coreference between the part and its whole: (19) Jean lève son verre/Jeani lève la maini (20) Le chat a griffé son fils/Le chat luii a griffé la maini (21) Je lave ma voiture/Je mei lave les mainsi (22) Il tient le loupi par la queuei (23) Je brosse mes dents/Je mei brosse les dentsi
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(24) Sa voiturei a été gravement accidentée. La carrosseriei est très abîmée, mais le moteuri est intact.
Of all the characteristics brought to the fore in the literature dedicated to those constructions7 only one will be retained here, which confirms the consubstantial interdependence between the whole and the parts via the iconic exploitation made of that interdependence. When the action expressed by a direct transitive verb is exerted over the part of a whole, there are two kinds of actantial splitting in French (Riegel 1991). On the one hand, the direct complement represents the part directly affected, but the whole indirectly involved comes out as a dative complement, often pronominal (20)–(21). On the other hand, if the action totally affects the whole, then this whole will be the direct object, the part being seen as an indirect locative complement showing the impact of the action (22). The occasional use of the possessive determiner to identify the part implies the loss or the change of this status. Such is the case for the first version of (23), where the referent of the object is viewed as the dentures of the subject.
. In order not to conclude . . . . . . too rapidly, it would be proper to relativize the impact of the analyses and hypotheses formulated in what precedes. First, they are only valid in French where the metalinguistic term possession is certainly not the most appropriate to evoke the grammatical category it refers to in English and in German. Replacing it by participation or partitivité is a matter of cosmetic terminology but does not settle the problem of determining the limits of the category that is located on the border between lexicon, syntax, and ultimately the ontology specific to each language. Considering this last point of view it seems that the French language assigns narrower limits to the category in comparison with other languages. This is at least the picture we may have if we take into account the idea that the part–whole relationships represent the basis (or the central instance) of a more general relationship that I called participation, of which three other relationships are in fact extensions with a decreasing degree of integration. In associating the general “participation’’ category with a conjunction of syntactic criteria and a definition liable to be adapted to a mereological calculation it has been possible to delimit the field of the relationship in a
The part–whole relation in French
relatively homogeneous way, maybe to the detriment of a more extensive conception. This would imply that the principle of category extension departing from a basic instance, cherished by Strawson, could be applied to other instances, more peripheral, due to prototypicality. This is no surprise if we consider that the basic category itself has an internal organization of a prototypical type. This is seen in the study of the clause structures — such as Jean a les yeux bleus (Gaatone 1991; Riegel 1996) — which connect a couple subject-direct object — necessarily interpreted as a whole and its part — with the property evoked by the complement of the object. It appears that this construction expresses a complex predicate which characterizes the whole via a property of one of its parts. This is a configuration that other languages lexicalize into a compound adjective (German: blauaügig, dickköpfig, langhaarig, dickbäckig; English: blue-eyed, hard-headed, long-legged, hard-hearted). Besides, couples subject-direct object do not only refer to human beings and their organic parts, which only constitute prototypical instances, but also to less typical couples the second term of which refers to non-human objects (Cette casserole a le fond cabossé), clothes worn by the whole (Il a la chemise ouverte), ‘Gestalt’ configuration (Elle a la démarche souple/ondulante), perceptive faculties and psychological and intellectual abilities (Il a l’ouïe fine/la vue perçante/l’odorat développé; Alain Rey n’a pas l’érudition triste [Le Monde]), physical and mental states (Il a la joie explosive/le triomphe modeste/la franchise brutale/la rancune tenace), and typical activities or behaviours (Il a la répartie prompte/le tutoiement/le compliment facile). Which makes one wonder about the limits of the most representative instantiation of the paradigm of participation relations. This is however another story.
Notes . (a): to have sexual intercourse with a woman; (b): to deceive; (c): talking about a demon, to be in possession of the spirit or the body of somebody. . To be convinced, the contributions to the present volume give a good idea of the range of definitions regarding the concept and the theoretical and empirical factors that are at the origin of this diversity. . The other relationships can be viewed as particular cases of the first three or are far from the notion of possession as it is commonly used in French grammar books (see for instance Bonnard, 1971–1978: 4494–4500). . The verb posséder has converses such as appartenir à and être à, that are submitted to the
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same restrictions: Les roues ?*appartiennent à/?*sont à/sont des parties de la voiture — Les joueurs ?*appartiennent à/?*sont à/font partie de l’équipe de foot — Les dix-huit frères *appartiennent à/sont à/sont ceux de Jean. . The overlap notion is the basis of the “calculus of the individuals’’ by Leonard and Goodman (1940), a mereologic extension of the calculus of classical sets, appropriate to formalize the four relationships that are considered possessive. . However when it is not immediate, this relationship represents a series of relationships building up a particular sector in the general network (being John’s nephew means being the son of a father who is himself John’s brother). . See for instance among many others Junker and Martineau (1987), Riegel (1991), Spanoghe (1995) and Herslund (1997).
References Bally, C. 1926. “L’expression des idées de sphère personnelle et de solidarité dans les langues indo-européennes’’. In Festschrift Louis Gauchat, F. Fankhauser and J. Jud (eds), 68–78. Arau: Sauerländer. Bonnard, H. 1971–1978. “La possession et les mots possessifs’’. In Grand Larousse de la langue française, vol. V, 4494–4500. Paris: Larousse. Fónagy, I. 1975. “La structure des constructions possessives’’. In Langue, discours et société. Pour Emile Benveniste, J. Kristeva, J.-C. Milner and N. Ruwet (eds), 44–84. Paris: Seuil. Gaatone, D. 1991. “Un calembour syntaxique en français’’. French Review Studies 1: 45–53. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and inalienable possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Copenhagen Business School. Junker, M. O. and Martineau, F. 1987. “Les possessions inaliénables dans les constructions objet’’. Revue Romane 22: 194–209. Leonard, H. S. and Goodman, N. 1940. “The Calculus of Individuals’’. Journal of Symbolic Logic 5: 45–55. Riegel, M. 1984. “Pour une redéfinition linguistique des relations dites de possession et d’appartenance’’. L’information grammaticale 23: 3–7. Riegel, M. 1991. “Transitivité et conditionnements cognitifs: La relation partie-tout et la complémentation verbale’’. LINX 24: 133–146. Riegel, M. 1996. “L’interprétation d’une forme tactique ou quand la méronomie investit une structure syntaxique’’. In Sémantique et cognition [SCOLIA 9], M. Riegel (ed.), 191–216. Spanoghe, A. M. 1995. La syntaxe de l’appartenance inaliénable en français, en espagnol et en portugais. Bern: Peter Lang. Winston, M. E., Chaffin, R. and Herman, D. 1987. “A Taxonomy of Part-Whole Relations’’. Cognitive Science 11: 417–444.
Chapter 11
Kinship in grammar Östen Dahl and Maria Koptjevskaja-Tamm
.
Introductory remarks
Kinship terminology has always been a central subject in anthropology, with the focus on the ways we classify our relatives and how they relate to social structure. In linguistic literature, kin terms are often mentioned as a group of lexical items with special properties. Most notably perhaps, they figure together with body part terms as the nouns that most often show up in inalienable possessive constructions. Due to their role in what is referred to as “possessor ascension’’, body part terms have been discussed quite extensively in recent grammatical literature (e.g. Chapell and McGregor 1996). In contrast, there seems to have be no general and systematic treatment of the grammatical properties of kin terms. This paper is an attempt to open a discussion on the topic.
. Some important concepts and distinctions . Terminology: Anchors and referents Kin terms are by definition relational. In the typical case, a kin term is used to refer to an individual by relating him/her kinshipwise to another individual. For instance, if I say My father is sick, I am referring to my father by relating him to myself. In such a case, my father is the referent and I am the anchor. If I say Dad is sick, no anchor is explicitly indicated, but the utterance is still understood to refer to my father (if there are no indications to the contrary). Thus, the anchor may be explicit or implicit. In anthropological literature, the anchor is often called the ego — in a linguistic context, this term may be ambiguously understood to refer to the speaker, who has to be distinguished from the anchor, although (or precisely because of) being often identical to it.
Östen Dahl and Maria Koptjevskaja-Tamm
The referent and the anchor may belong to the same or to different generations. In the latter case, we distinguish ascending kin terms — where the generation of the referent precedes that of the ego (father, mother, grandfather etc.) — and descending kin terms — where the referent belongs to a later generation (son, daughter, grandchild etc.).1 When the referent and the anchor are of the same generation, we may talk of horizontal kin terms (sister, brother, cousin etc.) Kin terms like father and mother are called parental kin terms for obvious reasons. . Proper and improper kin terms Among words used for relatives we may further distinguish proper and improper kin terms. Proper kin terms are those where the kin use is clearly the basic one. In the case of improper kin terms, there is also a non-kin (typically non-relational) use which is at least as salient as the kin use. Swedish examples of proper kin terms are pappa ‘daddy’, mamma ‘mum’, mormor ‘MoMo’2, farmor ‘FaMo’, syster ‘sister’, son ‘son’. Some improper kin terms are barn ‘child’, pojke ‘boy’ (commonly used in spoken language instead of ‘son’) and man ‘man/husband’. It is hardly a coincidence that the improper terms are either descending or denote marital relations. In particular, we know of no language where the most common word for ‘first generation descendant’ is not the same as the most common word for ‘person who has not reached puberty’ (i.e. ‘child’). . Taxonomy of uses of kin terms Kin terms are used in many different ways, and in many contexts. One important parameter in classifying uses of kin terms is the identity of the anchor. As we have already said, a common case is for the anchor to be identical to the speaker of the utterance. Of course, it may also be the addressee, or some set of persons including the speaker and/or the addressee. If the anchor includes one or more speech act participants, we say that the use is egocentric (following the definition of this term in Dahl 1997). A perhaps less obvious distinction also pertaining to the anchor is that between in-family and out-of-family uses. In an in-family use, the speech act participants belong to the same family as the anchor of the kin term. This is of course highly correlated to egocentricity but does not coincide with it. If I am speaking to a
Kinship in grammar
stranger about my father, it is an egocentric out-of-family use. Conversely, if a man says to his wife “Is Granny coming this weekend?’’, he may be referring to his children’s grandmother rather than to his own or his wife’s, in which case the use is in-family but non-egocentric. In-family and egocentric uses are together characterized by the backgrounded and/or highly predictable character of the anchor, making any indication of it communicatively redundant. If, in addition, the kin term has a unique referent in the context, as will normally be the case with a word like mother, its function comes close to that of a proper name. Such proper name-like uses of kin terms will play a crucial role in the rest of this paper. A further distinction concerns the function of the kin term in the utterance: it may have a vocative use, as in Where are you, Daddy? or a referential use, as in Where is Daddy?, and a predicative use, as in He is my Daddy. In this paper, we shall concentrate on vocative and referential uses. Vocative uses, by definition, must have second-person referents. Referential uses, on the other hand, may have first, second, and third person referents: in certain languages and certain social contexts, kin terms may be used in lieu of first and second person pronouns. Given that the anchor may also be any person, we would thus theoretically obtain nine combinations of anchors and referents in referential uses of kin terms. Probably only five are relatively common, as shown in Table 1. Table 1. Anchor-referent combinations First person Second person referent referent First person anchor Second person anchor Third person anchor
+ +
Third person referent + + +
. Kin terms in spoken Swedish We shall now give some statistics about the distribution of kin terms in actual speech as a background to the ensuing discussion of the grammatical behaviour of kin terms, basing ourselves on a corpus of spoken Swedish, “Samtal i Göteborg’’ (for details, see Löfström 1988 and Dahl 1997), consisting of about half a million words of conversation between adults, some related to each other and some not.3
Östen Dahl and Maria Koptjevskaja-Tamm
The first observation to be made is that kin terms are indeed very frequent in spoken discourse, and make up a sizeable proportion of all lexical NPs with animate reference. Totally, the corpus contains 950 instances of noun phrases used referentially or vocatively as kin terms, including 733 proper and 217 improper kin terms, making up about 0.2 per cent of the total number of words. Two other observations may make these figures more concrete: (i) The two most frequent animate nouns in our material were mamma ‘mother’ and barn ‘child’ — that is, one proper and one improper kin term. (ii) In the investigation reported in Dahl (1997), a syntactic analysis was made of a subcorpus of about 10,000 finite clauses from “Samtal i Göteborg’’. Of these, 52 had lexical subjects containing a proper kin term as head or used as a title, which means 23 per cent of all subjects with a lexical (non-proper name) head in the sub-corpus. The kin-referring NPs in the corpus can be classified as follows with regard to their syntactic make-up: 1. “Bare nouns’’ — i.e nouns used without a determiner (incl. definite endings) or possessor — this included the following kin terms: far ‘father’, farfar ‘FaFa’, farmor ‘FaMo’, mamma, mor ‘mother’, morfar ‘MoFa’, mormor ‘MoMo’, moster ‘MoSi’, pappa ‘father’, svärmor ‘mother-in-law’. 2. Possessive-marked NPs: (a) NPs containing a possessive pronoun indicating the anchor, such as min far ‘my father’; (b) NPs containing a genitive phrase indicating the anchor, such as Kalles far ‘Kalle’s father’. 3. Definite NPs (that is, with a definite head noun), such as farbrodern ‘the uncle’. 4. Others, including NPs containing a prepositional phrase indicating the anchor, such as sonen till Kalle ‘son to Kalle’, and NPs with a kin term epithet, such as farbror Kalle ‘uncle Kalle’. Table 2 shows the distribution of parental and non-parental terms in these groups.
Table 2. Distribution of parental and non-parental terms
Parental Non-parental Sum
Bare nouns
Genitive NP anchor
Pronominal anchor
Definite
Others
Sum
243 76 319
19 23 42
118 213 331
36 175 211
13 34 47
429 521 950
Kinship in grammar
What is most salient here is the large proportion of parental bare nouns, and the dominance of non-parental terms among definite NPs. With regard to the question of egocentric reference, about 400 of the kin terms could be identified as having a first person anchor, and about 100 as having a second-person one. Finally, we give in Table 3 the breakdown of proper and improper kin terms and the generation of the referent relative to the anchor, showing the dominance of proper kin terms among ascending and improper kin terms among descending relationships, and the overall dominance of the first ascending (“parental’’) generation. Table 3. Distribution of proper and improper kin terms over generations Generations Proper kin terms
Ascending Same generation Descending
Improper kin terms
Sum
614 131 205 950
–3 –2 –1 0 1
2 95 517 89 30
42 175
2 95 517 131 205
Sum
733
217
950
. Grammatical and other peculiarities of kin terms In many languages, some or all kin terms receive special treatment, setting them apart from other nouns. In particular, we find examples of the following phenomena: . Definiteness Like proper names, kin terms are often treated as inherently definite. This means for instance that they may be exempt from being obligatorily marked by definite articles or other determiners, leading to bare noun uses like the ones already mentioned. In some languages definite articles are simply excluded with many kin terms. In Standard Italian, some kin terms are exceptions to the rule that possessive pronouns are usually combined with a definite article: mia madre ‘my mother’ vs. la mia casa ‘my house’. A somewhat similar situation is found in many varieties of Mainland Scandinavian, where possessive pronouns usually demand a definite form of the head noun,
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when postposed to it, with the exception of some kin terms, which take the bare form: far min ‘my father’ vs. huset mitt ‘my house’-def. Other reflexes of the treatment as definites is e.g. that ‘naked’ kin terms obey the same constraints as NPs with an overt article and proper names in syntactic contexts such as there-constructions (English, Scandinavian) or with respect to object marking, as in Hungarian, where they trigger definite object endings in verbs. In languages where kin terms in proper name-like uses are unmarked for definiteness, the same terms with definite marking may be used with a thirdperson anchor, giving rise to minimal pairs such as Swedish Pappa kommer ‘(Our) father is coming’: Pappa-n kommer ‘The father (of a contextually determined third-person referent) is coming’. This may be exploited for creating subtle differences in empathy in written prose. . “Proprial’’ articles Some languages have so-called “proprial’’ articles whose primary use is with proper names. Such articles are often extended to kin terms in proper namelike uses, that is, the same contexts where bare kin terms are used in other languages. Examples are found in Scandinavian dialects, e.g. Northern Swedish ‘n Per ‘Per’, ‘n far ‘father’. Another case in point is Samoan (Austronesian), In Samoan, the locative preposition i ‘in, at’ and the directional preposition ‘i ‘to’ have special forms ia¯ and ‘ia¯ respectively when used before proper names, personal pronouns and naked kin terms, such as ‘mother’ and ‘father’. Historically these latter variants come from the combination of the preposition with the proprial article a, which is still found in a few Polynesian languages. In such cases the kin terms are used egocentrically, referring to the speaker’s, or to the hearer’s parents: (1)
(2)
sa¯ ‘ou fai ‘i- -a¯ tina¯ e sau immpast 1sg say to prop mother uns come ‘I told my mother to come’ (Jonsson 1999: 37) sau e fesoasoani ‘i- a¯ tama¯ come uns give.help to prop father ‘Come and help your father’ (said by a father to his child) (Jonsson 1999: 38)
The kin terms which can be used naked and, thus, can occur in combinations with ia¯ and ‘ia¯ refer to consanguineal individual relatives, the central place
Kinship in grammar
among which is taken by parental terms. Note that kin terms combining with possessive pronouns or articles do not take proprial articles — cf. the example above with the following more or less synonymous sentence: (3) sa¯ ‘ou fai ‘i lo’u tina¯ e sau immpast 1sg say to my mother uns come ‘I told my mother to come’ (ib.)
. Plural formation Like proper names, kin terms may sometimes lack plural forms, or they may share special plural endings.4 For instance, in Dalecarlian (Germanic) as spoken in Älvdalen, Sweden, the following kin terms are said to lack plurals (Levander 1909, Steensland 1986): faðer ‘Fa’; muna ‘Mo’; fafar ‘FaFa’; muäfar ‘MoFa’; mumun ‘MoMo’; famun ‘FaMo’; hlunga ‘female cousin’; tytta ‘aunt’ Other kin terms do have plurals, for instance: bruäðer ‘Br’; syster ‘Si’; faster ‘FaSi’; muäster ‘MoSi’; duäter ‘Da’ In Polish, masculine animate nouns usually end in -i in the nominative plural, e.g. student: studenci. However, the ending -owie is used regularly with • • •
proper names: Jan: Janowie kin terms: ojciec: ojcowie ‘father’ except wnuk ‘grandchild’ and kuzyn ‘cousin’ titles such as generał: generałowie
. Associative (group) plurals A large number of typologically different languages has a regular way of building constructions with the general meaning ‘X + those surrounding X’ — so-called ‘‘associative plurals’’. At least in some languages, these constructions are restricted to proper names and (certain) kin terms. For examples, this is true for Lezgian (NE Caucasian; Haspelmath 1993: 79), where this meaning is expressed through a combination of a reduced genitive ending and a substantivizing plural sufix. This formation is only limited to proper names and some kinship terms, e.g.:
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(4) a.
Dide-d-bur bazar.di-z fe-na mother-gen-sbst.pl market-dat go-aor ‘Mother and those with her went to the market’ b. Suna xala-d-bur.u-n k’wal Suna aunt-gen-sbst.pl-gen house ‘the house of Suna-xala and her family’
Similarly in Kpelle — and more generally in the Mande languages within Niger-Congo — the associative plural marker is used with proper names of persons and personified animals, the interrogative pronoun ‘who’ and certain kin terms (Bill Anderson p.c. via Edith Moravcsik p.c.). . Possessors When used to express “possessors’’ in possessive constructions, kin terms also sometimes go together with proper names. Thus, in Dalecarlian, only definites, proper names and kin terms can have a genitive in -es: wardj-em-es ‘the wolf ’s’, Jerk-es ‘Eric’s’, fadher-es ‘father’s’. Similarly, in Standard German, only proper names and kin terms may be used as possessors before the head noun, e.g. Peters Buch ‘Peter’s book’, Vaters Auto ‘Father’s car’. In Russian, so-called possessive adjectives, which were once the standard way of forming possessive NPs, are now basically restricted to proper names and kin terms in -a, e.g. Mašina stat’ja ‘Masha’s article’, papin stul ‘Dad’s chair’. In Faroese, proper names and bare kin terms have a special ‘‘possessive’’ form: (5) Jákup-sa(r)/mammu-sa(r) bók Jákup-poss/mother-poss book (Lockwood 1955: 104, 106; Barnes and Weyhe 1994: 198–9).
. Kin terms as heads of possessive constructions The behaviour of kin terms in the role of heads of possessive constructions is probably the most discussed aspect of kinship in grammar. It is a well-known fact that kin terms and body part terms (head, foot, stomach etc.) are the two semantic classes of nouns that are most often treated as “inalienable’’ whenever alienability distinctions are made. Some comments on such distinctions are in place here. As we noted in an earlier paper (Dahl and Koptjevskaja-Tamm 1998), the traditional labels give the impression that one is dealing with two kinds of possession: alienable and
Kinship in grammar
inalienable, variously characterized in the literature in terms of e.g. the permanence, inherentness or essentiality of the possessive relationship and/or the relationality of the head noun. The choice between inalienable and alienable constructions is seldom predictable from such general definitions, however; rather, what the alienability distinction means in most languages is that a set of relational nouns are singled out for special treatment, and that this set always includes members of one or both of the groups mentioned above. Equally important, however, is the phenomenon of obligatory possessor marking, which tends to occur with the same nouns as those that appear in inalienable constructions. In our previous paper, we noted that although kin terms and body parts are alike in that they can be part of the core of an inalienable construction, they are also rather different in many ways. Thus, as we have already seen, kin terms are animate nouns which in their typical uses strongly resemble proper names, i.e. they are used of well-known individuals in the immediate situational context — syntactically, typically subjects. In the normal case, the anchor of a kin term is indeed the “I’’ of the speech act, i.e. the speaker, and the addition of a 1st person pronoun is thus communicatively redundant. Yet, grammaticalization processes may lead to a situation where the grammar obliges the speaker to do so. By contrast, body part terms are inanimate nouns, and tend to show up in rather different syntactic contexts than kin terms — they are usually objects or adverbials. But here also, the “possessor’’ is highly predictable, strongly tending to be identical to the referent of the subject of the sentence, or alternatively, a referent of another NP, according to the particular syntactic construction used (e.g. the direct object in a sentence such as I hit him in the head). Body parts are also special in that their state and any changes in it have direct relevance for the “whole’’ organism. Thus, in most contexts, body part terms have a low discourse status: what really matters is not so much the body part as such but rather the affected person or animal. This motivates syntactic constructions such as possessor ascension/ external possession and body-part incorporation (Chappell and McGregor 1996 and König and Haspelmath 1998). Generalizing, we might say that kin terms are egocentric and pragmatically anchored, while body parts are syntactically anchored. .. Possessive constructions restricted to kin terms This is the type of situation that is normally described in terms of alienability distinctions. We argued in our previous paper that it is the result of a
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grammaticalization process by which a younger and expanding possessive construction is encroaching on the territory of an older one, leaving it only with a few lexical items. Alternatively, the differentiation might arise by a phonetic reduction of possessive pronouns in certain contexts where they are highly predictable and thus prone to lose stress. One important aspect of alienability distinctions noted in Nichols (1988) is that they are often highly lexically idiosyncratic, that is, that there is in fact no general semantic rule that determines whether an inalienable construction can be used or not. Thus, such a construction may be possible with one kin term and impossible with another. Such a situation commonly arises in the final stages of the expansion of a new construction, where only a few lexical items, usually high-frequency ones, are able to resist the process. We shall use kin term constructions in Catalan as an illustrative example, without making any claims as to the exact ways in which the current situation has arisen. Catalan has two possessive constructions, as shown by the following examples: • •
‘inalienable’: mon pare ‘my father’ ‘alienable’: a meva casa ‘my house’
We can see that in addition to utilizing two different sets of possessive pronouns, the constructions differ in the presence of a definite article only in the ‘alienable’ construction. This is analogous to the Italian situation referred to above. In Catalan, however, the ‘inalienable’ construction is possible only with certain kin terms, with considerable variation between dialects. Table 4 shows the information given in Alcover and Moll (1956) with respect to the possible combinations of mon and different male kin terms in twelve different locations. (Regrettably, the corresponding female terms cannot be included, due to insufficient information in the source.) Table 4. Distribution of mon in different locations Noun
1
2
3
pare ‘father’ germà ‘brother’ tio/oncle ‘uncle’ cosí ‘cousin’ cunyat ‘brother-in-law’ nebot ‘nephew’ sogre ‘father-in-law’ padri ‘godfather’ aví ‘grandfather’
+ +
+ +
+
4 +
5 +
+ +
6 + + + +
7
8
9
10
11
12
+
+
+ + + +
+ + + +
+ + + +
+ + + +
+ + +
+ + + +
+
+ +
+ +
+ +
Kinship in grammar
.. Obligatory possessor marking There are really two varieties of obligatory possessor marking. In the first, certain nouns obligatorily carry a possessive affix. An example is Navajo (Athabascan): (6) shi-ma ‘my mother’ a-ma ‘someone’s mother, mother in general’
In the second variety, the possessor is obligatory but may be either pronominal or lexical. This is found in the Tupí-Guaraní language family, e.g. Sirionó Juanito ru ‘Juanito’s father’, nde-ru ‘your father’ (own data). (Cf. VelázquezCastillo 1996: 62 for the corresponding facts in Guaraní.) It may be noted that there is a parallel here to obligatory subject marking. In English or Swedish, every sentence must (in principle) have a subject, but it may be either pronominal or lexical. By contrast, many languages have an obligatory subject marker in the form of a pronoun or an affix on the verb, irrespective of the presence of a lexical subject. We may also compare with the obligatoriness of possessive pronouns with subject-controlled body part terms in English, e.g. I hurt my foot (not ‘the foot’ as in many other languages). We see obligatory possessor marking as the result of a grammaticalization process by which possessive pronouns come to be used whenever possible, rather than when communicatively motivated. The frequent use of pronouns in communicatively redundant positions facilitates their reduction to affixes. . Kinship verbs Our discussion has so far focussed on kin terms as a special subtype of nouns. Thus, kin terms typically share most grammatical properties with other nouns in the language, but in addition show certain peculiarities. Interestingly, in some languages kinship relations are more or less consistently expressed not by nouns, but as verbs. The following discussion is based on the detailed and insightful treatment of this phenomenon in Evans (1999). As an example of such a language, let us take Ilgar (Northern Australia, the Iwaidjan family). Verbs in Ilgar attach person-gender prefixes for both subject and object. The same prefixes can be efficiently employed in referring to various kinship relations, when combined with a closed set of verbal kinship roots, such as -wula illustrated below. Thus, in the two following expressions, the anchor is coded by the object (absolutive) prefixes, whereas the referent is
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coded by the subject (ergative) ones, and the interpretation is something like ‘an X such that X is Y’s mother’: (7) an-na-wula 1sg.abs-3sg.f.erg-be.mother.to ‘my mother’ (she is mother to me) (8) a-ni-wula 1sg.abs-3sg.m.erg-be.mother.to ‘my maternal uncle’ (he is (as a) mother to me)
With appropriate subject-object prefixes, the same root can also be exploited for reference to the converse relations: ‘an X such that Y is X’s mother’, e.g.: (9) a-wula 1sg.erg/3sg.m.abs-be.mother.to ‘my son (female speaker), my sister’s son (male speaker)’ (10) a-bula 1sg.erg/3sg.f.abs-be.mother.toNP ‘my daughter (female speaker), my sister’s daughter (male speaker)’
Kinship verbs are attested in other Australian languages (e.g. the Gunwinyguan languages), in the Iroquoian languages (e.g. Seneca and Cayuga), in the Yuman languages (e.g. Yuma) and in the Uto-Aztecan languages (e.g. Central Guerrero Nahuatl and Cahuilla), but probably also exist in quite a few others. Their semantics can vary; thus, their meanings can be ‘be K to X’, ‘have X as K’, ‘call X a K’ and ‘consider X a K’ (where K refers to a particular kinship relation). The rationale behind this phenomenon is sufficiently clear: kinship involves (at least) two-place relations between humans and the argument structure of kin terms is, thus, similar to that of transitive verbs. Relationality, on the whole, is not typical of nouns. On the other hand, kinship involves static relations, as opposed to typically dynamic two-place verbs. Thus, whereas many languages take the dichotomy between ‘dynamic’ and ‘static’ semantics as the basis for their lexical categorization into verbs and nouns, quite a few of them appear to use relationality as the essential underlying factor for such a categorization (Evans 1999). However, the stativity of kin terms makes them relatively poor members of the verb class, which is manifested, among other things, in their restricted repertoire of such typical verbal characteristics as tense-aspect-mood categories.
Kinship in grammar
Also, kinship verbs typically co-exist with kinship nouns within one and the same language, and the choice between the two types of expressions is governed by various factors.
. Differences among kin terms: The parental prototype As we have seen, kin terms as a lexical domain tend to behave in particular ways, due to their special referential properties in discourse. In many respects, kin terms go together with proper names. From the point of view of grammaticalization processes, this works in two ways. Sometimes proper names and kin terms form the core of the domain of a certain phenomenon, such as proprial articles or special suffixes such as the nominative plural morpheme -owie in Polish. In other cases, proper names and kin terms are alike in resisting some grammaticalization process, such as the spread of definite articles. (In the end, even proper names and kin terms take definite articles.) With respect to possessive constructions, kin terms go together with body part terms to form a residual domain, which is the last one to be conquered by a new, expanding construction. But it would be wrong to think of kin terms as a monolithic class. In actual practice, and as we saw above in several cases, the phenomena we have been talking about are often restricted to a subset of all the kin terms in a language. It can be noted that lexical idiosyncrasy seems to be a general property of residual phenomena in grammaticalization. But it is also clear that not all kin terms, and not all uses of kin terms, are alike with respect to the properties that motivate their special treatment. Thus, proper name-like uses are much more frequent with certain kin terms, notably the ones that denote ascending relations, and in particular parental ones, such as father and mother. This is partly dependent on social conventions. In the English-speaking world, one would address one’s father as father but one’s siblings or children rather by their names. In China, on the other hand, expressions such as ‘third sister’ are regularly used for the younger members of a family. However, a system which is the inverse of the English one is not attested, to our knowledge. This suggests a universal partial ordering of kin terms (‘hierarchy’ being too strong), based on closeness to what we would propose to call the parental prototype. In fact, parental terms were singled out already in Joseph Greenberg’s work on markedness relations (1966, 1980). Greenberg claimed that kin terms could be assigned different degrees of markedness using the criteria set out in Table 5.
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Table 5. Greenberg’s criteria of markedness for kin terms Less marked
More marked
Example
Lineal Consanguineal Less remote (measured in number of generations) Senior (including both seniority within one generation and the distinction ascending-descending)
Collateral Affinal More remote (measured in number of generations) Junior
‘father’<‘uncle’ ‘brother’<‘brother-in-law’ ‘father’<‘grandfather’ ‘older brother’<‘younger brother’
Markedness, according to Greenberg, would manifest itself in: • zero expression vs. overt expression for certain categories cf. the consanguineal vs. the affinal relation in such pairs as brother vs. brother-inlaw ; • defectivation, i.e. the absence of a term in the marked category which would correspond to an existing one in the unmarked category — cf. *cousin-in-law; • neutralization of certain distinctions in some categories (cf. neutralization of sex reference in cousin as against brother and sister); • higher text frequencies for unmarked categories. Greenberg proposes a metric by which the kinship distance is measured by “the number of occurrences of the relation ‘parent’ or its converse ‘child’ in the relational product required to define the term’’. Combining seniority and genealogical distance from ego (anchor), he arrives at a “hierarchy of generations’’ as follows: (i) first ascending generation; (ii) ego’s generation and first descending generation (“about equal’’), (iii) second ascending generation, (iv) second descending generation etc. Our proposal is similar to Greenberg’s. As noted above, however, we prefer to talk in terms of similarity to a prototype rather than markedness and hierarchies. One reason is that although parental terms do seem to always be on the top, it does not appear possible to assign a universal weighting for the different factors involved. Thus, to account for the propensity for proper name-like uses, the distinction ascending-descending has to be given more weight than in Greenberg’s system, making all ascending generations precede all the others (‘grandmother’ is more likely to be used like a proper name than ‘daughter’ or ‘sister’). A property not mentioned by Greenberg which in many languages singles
Kinship in grammar
out parental terms from all others (or with the only exceptions being other ascending terms such as Swedish farfar ‘FaFa’) is that of unique reference (relative to an anchor). It is plausible that this property creates favourable conditions for proper name-like uses. It should be noted that such uses are not characteristic of terms like parent(s), which are in most languages only or preferably used with plural reference. We shall now give a couple of further illustrations of differentiated behaviour among kin terms, giving additional support to the idea of the parental prototype. In Kera (Chadic; Ebert 1979: 171), possessive suffixes are in general obligatory with kin terms and body part terms. In many contexts, a definite marker -´ often realized only as a change in tone, is also obligatory. What is relevant for our purposes is that the presence or absence of this definite marker may distinguish otherwise homophonous pairs of kin terms, where the definite marker is present on the descending member and absent on the ascending one: nəəndə`n ‘my MoBr’ : nəəndən´ ‘my SiSo’ moomədù ‘his grandfather’: moomədù´ ‘his grandson’ In Somali, the same term, adeer, is employed in addressing an uncle by his nephew or a nephew by his uncle. In referential uses, however, the term is restricted for reference to the ascending generation, whereas the descending generation is referred to by a relative clause construction, such as: (11) ínan aan adeer u ahay boy am uncle ben is ‘a boy to whom I am an uncle’ (Serzisko 1983: 72).
This asymmetry between the ascending and descending generations is seen in several other kin terms, referring to mother/father vs. child, grandmother/ grandfather vs. grandchild, aunt vs. nephew/niece relations. In Georgian (Kartvelian; Thomas Widmann and Nino Amiridze, p.c.), a number of kin terms use clitic possessive pronouns, e.g., mamachemi ‘my father’, dedasheni ‘your (sg.) mother’ opposed to preposed free pronouns as in chemi da ‘my sister’, sheni saxli ‘your (sg.) house’. These kin terms are as can be seen from the following list all ascending: mama ‘father’, deda ‘mother’, bebia ‘grandmother’ babua or p’ap’a ‘grandfather’, deida ‘mother’s sister’, mamida ‘father’s sister’, bija ‘uncle’, bijola ‘aunt’. The examples given above from Dalecarlian, Polish, and Catalan also show
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a differentiated behaviour among kin terms, which does not fit the partial ordering defined by the conditions above but still gives support to the idea of a clustering around parental terms. In addition to the grammatical parameters we have already talked about, it seems that the parental prototype also can be used to account for other distinctions within the kin domain. For instance, in many languages, there are kin terms that are formed by a reduplicative CVCV, CVC or VCV pattern, such as mama, papa, ata and the like. It appears that this is most common for parental terms, relatively common for other ascending kin terms and least common for descending ones. The list of Georgian kin terms just given illustrates this. Consider also the set of reduplicative kin terms in Russian: papa ‘father’, mama ‘mother’, bab(ušk)a ‘grandmother’, ded ‘grandfather’, djadja ‘uncle’, tetja ‘aunt’. Possessive NPs in the Polynesian languages are famous for the distinction between ‘‘dominant’’ possession (o-possession) and ‘‘subordinate possession’’ (a-possession), which has certain similarities with, but is not exactly the same as the traditional alienability split. The two categories correlate with the difference in the relation between a possessee and a possessor. For our purpose it is noteworthy that parental terms and other kin terms denoting ascending relations cluster together with typically inherently, inalienably possessed entities, such as body parts (o-possession). Other kin terms cluster with words which, for instance, denote more or less recently acquired personal possessions (a-possession) (Bauer 1993: 209–216).
. Kin term doublets The differentiation among kin terms that we have discussed so far has been based on the semantics of the terms, that is, on the properties of the kinship relation they express — for instance, ascending relations were distinguished from descending ones. There is another type of differentiation, however, that distinguishes kin terms that are denotationally synonymous, that is, express the same kinship relations. The existence of such kin term doublets in a language like English is of course something that most of its speakers are aware of: fathers are called Daddy and mothers Mum or the like. It appears that the frequency of such doublets is another phenomenon that is correlated with the parental prototype. The phenomenon is not restricted to European languages, as the following list shows:
Kinship in grammar
• • • • • • •
English: dad: father; mum: mother Swedish: pappa: far ‘father’; mamma: mor ‘mother’ French: papa: père ‘father’; maman: mère ‘mother’ Russian: papa: otec ‘father’; mama: mat’ ‘mother’ Sirionó: paba: ru ‘father’; tei: si ‘mother’ Slave (Athabascan; Rice 1989): ʔabá: -ta ‘father’; ʔamá: -ne ‘mother’ Samoan (Jonsson 1999): tama¯: papa ‘father’; tina¯: mama ‘mother’
The members of kin term doublets usually differ with respect to their use. A common pattern is for one member to be more frequent in vocative and egocentric uses. Sometimes, this seems to be regularized to an extent where it is motivated to talk of suppletion within a single paradigm. Statements to this effect are not seldom found in grammars, but it is hard to know exactly what reality is behind them. In Axininca Campa (Arawakan) the following suppletive pairs are found according to Payne (1981): nowaapati ‘my father’ paapa ‘father’ (vocative) tomichi ‘my son’ nochomi ‘son’ (vocative) In Slave (Rice 1989: 227), the vocative of -ne ‘mother’, ʔene, is said to be used “mostly in referring to an older or deceased woman’’ whereas the usual vocative form for ‘mother’ is ʔamá. Merlan (1982: 138) reports that in certain Australian languages “reference in other than the egocentric referential mode requires the use of a set of terms which (for some relationships) differ from vocative and egocentric referential kin terms’’. Thus, in Jawoñ a child calls her own mother gara but when referring to another uses the term -n¸akunñira?mi. Less drastically, the vocative function may require a special derivative form such as a diminutive, as in Polish: babka ‘grandmother’ would have the vocative babko! but instead the diminutive babciu! is used (F. Gladney, personal communication). In Klamath (Penutian; Scott Delancey, p.c.), kin terms used referentially take a special prefix, /b-/ (historically a 3rd person clitic pronoun). In vocative use, some kin terms lack this prefix but instead take a special suffix not found anywhere else in the language: p-tis-ap ‘father (referential)’ tis-i:p ‘father! (vocative)’
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p-k’is-ap ‘mother’ k’is-i:p ‘mother!’ Corresponding to these differences in use one also frequently finds differences which are directly relevant to our discussion in that the members of kin term doublets tend to behave differently with respect to such phenomena as obligatory possessive and definiteness marking. In French, only papa has a bare noun use in referential function, as is illustrated by the following example: (12)
??Père
est venu/Mon père est venu/Papa est venu ‘father has come’
Similarly, although possessive prefixes are obligatory with kin terms in Slave according to Rice (1989: 227), her examples show that there are kin term doublets where this only holds for one of the members: (13) Mary be-tá ʔeyá hili M. 3sg-father sick is ‘Mary’s father is sick’ (1989: 229) (14) ʔabá gok’eríʔée father jacket ‘father’s jacket’ (1989: 231)
Likewise the obligatoriness of possessor markers in Sirionó holds only for the second members of the pairs listed above: (15) hue s paba u-chä here from father 3sg-flee ‘(my) father fled from here’ (16) aba nde-ru? who 2sg-father ‘who is your father?’
In the next section, we shall consider some possible diachronic explanations of kin-term doublets.
.
Renewal of kin terms
There seems to be a tendency to think of kin terms like father, mother, brother etc. as belonging to the most stable parts of vocabulary. Indeed, the English
Kinship in grammar
words just mentioned belong to the common Indo-European heritage, meaning that they have been around for a long time. In spite of this, renewal of kin terms does take place, sufficiently often5 for there to be at least four different unrelated terms for ‘father’ in the Germanic languages: • • • •
as in English father etc. as in Swedish pappa etc. (apparently from French; general spread in French-influenced area) as in English daddy as in Gothic atta (many parallels in the area, cf. Turkish ata and Russian otec)
Parental and parental-like kin terms may be renewed from several different sources: • • • •
“nursery language’’ (“Motherese’’) loans from other languages slang diminutives
While the influence of “Motherese’’ and child language on parental terminology has always been acknowledged and was stressed in Jakobson’s classical paper (1966), the fact that parental kin terms are not seldom borrowed from one language to another has been less often appreciated. The forms ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’, alluded to in the title of Jakobson’s paper, are in fact the most obvious cases in point, in that they were borrowed into the Germanic and Slavic languages from French, apparently during the period when French upper class culture spread in Europe. In Swedish, they have become generally used among all groups in society only in the twentieth century. They are thus not somehow an automatic extension of children’s speech, as is sometimes thought. However, renewals such as the introduction of ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’ seem to follow a certain pattern, which explains the typical distribution of the members of kin term doublets. More specifically, innovated kin terms like ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’ tend to be restricted to vocative and/or egocentric and in-family uses, that is, the uses where the identity of the anchor is most predictable, and where the proper name-like character of the kin-referring NPs is most obvious. (The existence of vocative-referential suppletion and similar phenomena in kin terms suggests that the vocative function tends to be the original renewal site.) It is therefore not astonishing that innovated kin terms tend to show proper name-like behaviour with respect to possessive and
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definite marking. Not only are possessive and definite markers frequently nonobligatory with such terms, they may even be impossible. As time passes, however, these properties may change. As an example, we may consider the introduction of the words pappa and mamma into Swedish. (The account builds on information given in the Swedish Academy Dictionary.) Pappa and mamma entered the Swedish language in the late seventeenth century, as loans from French. Until the nineteenth century, they do not seem to have been used in the plural or with definite articles. In the twentieth century, such uses have become quite normal. The words far and mor (shortened forms of the lexemes fader and moder)6 were common in in-family uses until fairly recently, but today, pappa and mamma are rapidly replacing them even in out-of-family uses. The development during the last century is documented in Table 6. It shows the frequencies of various forms of the lexemes pappa, fader/far, mamma, and moder/mor in two corpora from the Swedish Language Bank. Regrettably, some of the forms are homonymous7 and the figures are therefore not totally reliable. In spite of this, the table gives clear evidence of two tendencies: the general shift from fader/far and moder/mor to pappa and Table 6. The expansion of pappa and mamma: some corpus evidence Novels
Novels
19th and early 20th C.
1980–81
N
%
N
pappa pappas pappan pappans pappor papporna far* fader fadern faderns fäder fäderna fädernas fäders
476 49 4 1 2 0 3,079 379 425 101 40 15 13 0
10.4 1.1 0.1 0.0 0.0 0.0 67.2 8.3 9.3 2.2 0.9 0.3 0.3 0.0
1,092 32.8 135 4.1 44 1.3 5 0.2 10 0.3 4 0.1 1,284 38.6 266 8.0 343 10.3 87 2.6 44 1.3 5 0.2 11 0.3 0 0.0
Total
4,584
*Homonymous forms
3,330
19th and early 20th C.
% mamma mammas mamman mammans mammor mammorna mor moder modern* moders mödrar mödrarna mödrarnas mödrars
1980–81
N
%
N
575 39 10 1 3 0 2,840 203 540 80 42 11 2 11
13.2 0.9 0.2 0.0 0.1 0.0 65.2 4.7 12.4 1.8 1.0 0.3 0.0 0.3
1,842 41.6 183 4.1 89 2.0 10 0.2 19 0.4 0 0.0 1,461 33.0 155 3.5 589 13.3 29 0.7 30 0.7 13 0.3 2 0.0 2 0.0
4,357
4,424
%
Kinship in grammar
mamma, and the increased use of the latter with definite and plural marking. The story we have just told is not unique. For instance, the Aramaic word ‘abba, which is morphologically definite, was originally used only with the speaker as anchor. It was borrowed into post-biblical Hebrew and in modern colloquial Hebrew is apparently used without the anchor restriction (Richard Steiner, personal communication). It is also worth noting that kin terms show very different patterns of renewal depending on their semantics. Thus, it is obvious that words for more complex relationships (e.g. terms for in-laws and non-first generation kin terms) are often formed by derivation or compounding. But the synchronic skewing between proper and improper kin terms, mentioned above, is directly related to the diachronic tendency to renew descending kin terms and words denoting marital relations from primarily non-relational nouns such as child, man, woman etc.
. Lexical integration The development of kin terms like Swedish pappa and mamma is of more general interest in that it can be seen as an example of what could be called lexical integration, a process by which new lexemes are gradually pulled into the grammatical system of the language. Lexical integration is related to the more well-known process of grammaticalization, which it both resembles and interacts with.8 To start with the parallels, in both cases the starting-point is a renewal of the resources of a language, which may exploit different sources, but which tends to repeat itself in much the same way and in the same locations. Both lexical integration and grammaticalization are gradual and tend to involve expansion of domains of use, from concrete to more abstract uses of items, with the final parts of the process being characterized by lexical idiosyncrasy and fossilization. But the discussion of kin terms above also illuminates the interaction between the two processes. As the use of a grammatical marking such as a definite article expands, more and more lexical items are pulled into its domain. In this process, a lexical item which is less well integrated into the system has a better chance of staying outside. But over time the probability that it will be treated in the same way as other lexemes increases. The gradual integration of new lexical items is most obvious with loan
Östen Dahl and Maria Koptjevskaja-Tamm
words. But we have seen in the case of kin terms that semantic and pragmatic properties of a word also influence the ease with which it is integrated into the language. A vivid illustration of this is provided by the two words rektor ‘headmaster’ and lektor ‘lecturer, senior teacher’ in Scandinavian, discussed in Christiansen (1977). (Christiansen talks about Danish but exactly the same facts hold for Swedish.) The words in Scandinavian are borrowings from Latin rector and lector. In spite of their common origin, and their near-identical phonological make-up and closely related semantics, the two words differ with respect to their grammatical properties: the word rektor can be used as a bare noun, without a determiner; lektor cannot be used this way. As Christiansen notes, this clearly has to do with the fact that rektor but not lektor denotes a unique person in a school context — in addition, a figure of authority. Thus, while rektor can be compared to father, lektor is more like uncle. It can therefore be claimed that rektor has resisted lexical integration better than lektor due to its semantics. However, it is clear that also other factors are at play here. A parallel case to rektor is found in the Swedish word for ‘dean’, which may be used with or without the Latin ending -us : dekanus or dekan. Only the longer form can be used without a definite article, which shows that the preserved Latin character of the word also helps it resist integration.
. Conclusion Among nouns, kin terms have specific semantic and pragmatic properties that explain why they often display deviant grammatical behaviour, in particular, their role in grammaticalization processes. As we have seen above, however, kin terms do not necessarily form a well-delimited natural class. Rather, the propensity to be singled out for special treatment depends on the closeness to the parental prototype, with ascendance and linealness as most salient features. Moreover, a kin term may change its character over time, as it undergoes lexical integration, a process which is both similar to and interacting with grammaticalization. The study of kin terms is therefore relevant to the understanding of central processes in synchronic and diachronic grammar.
Acknowledgements This paper is dedicated to Ekkehard König on the occasion of his sixtieth
Kinship in grammar
birthday. We want to thank the following persons for input and/or comments on earlier versions: Nino Amiridze, Loren A. Billings, Bart de Boer, Scott DeLancey, Alan Dench, Mark Donohue, Nicholas Evans, Zygmunt Frajzyngier, Dick Hudson, Niklas Jonsson, John E. Koontz, Bill McGregor, Edith Moravcsik, Herb Stahlke, Richard Steiner, Judit Szito, and Thomas Widmann.
Notes . Kin terms are not always unambiguously ascending or descending. In Australian languages, the same terms are commonly used for the second ascending and the second descending generations (Bill McGregor, personal communication). See section 5 for similar examples, only distinguished by the use of a definite article. . Whenever appropriate, we use the standard notation in which e.g. ‘FaMo’ stands for father’s mother, ‘MoBr’ for mother’s brother and so on. . The participants in the project within which the corpus was created were asked to record half an hour’s conversation with a person they knew well. In many cases, this person was a member of the same family. The corpus thus represents both in-family and out-of-family kin reference but since we did not have access to precise information about the identity of the referents it was not possible to distinguish them systematically. . Another phenomenon that should be mentioned in this context is the existence of plurals or plural-like forms with specialized meanings, for instance the “dyadic’’ forms in Australian languages, e.g. Panyjima kurtarra ‘two people related as brothers’ (Dench 1981:109) or forms like Icelandic feðgar ‘father and son’ and Spanish padres ‘parents’ (lit. ‘fathers’). . There is so far no reliable global statistics on the replacement rates of individual words. Dyen et al. (1997) give values for Indo-European languages that suggest that the words ‘father’ (0.67) and ‘mother’ (0.32) are relatively stable but that these words are still replaced more often than a maximally stable word like ‘sun’ (0.19). (A word has a replacement rate of 1 if it is replaced once on the average during a time period estimated at 2,400 years.) . The relationship between the long and short forms fader:far and moder:mor is a separate story which is also relevant to the issue of kin term renewal. The short forms cannot take any endings in Standard Swedish; the missing forms in the paradigm are supplied by the long forms. Conversely, the long forms fader and moder cannot be used as bare nouns in Modern Swedish (with the exception of vocative uses when addressing God or a Catholic priest). *Fader kommer ‘Father comes’ is just ungrammatical while far kommer is OK in families where far is still used. The pairs of long and short forms can thus be said to constitute a special case of a kin term doublet. . Far ‘father’ is also the present tense of fara ‘go, travel’ and modern may be an adjective with the same meaning as in English. . An alternative to ‘lexical integration’ is ‘lexicalization’ but it has been used in recent literature with slightly different interpretations and we therefore avoid it here.
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References Alcover, A. and Moll, F., eds. 1956. Diccionari català-valencià-balear : inventari lexicogràfic i etimològic de la llengua catalana en totes les seves formes literàries i dialectals. T. 7 : Lliom. Palma de Mallorca: Moll. Barnes, M. P. and Weyhe, E. 1994. ‘‘Faroese’’. In The Germanic Languages, E. König and J. van der Auwera (eds), 190–218. London: Routledge. Bauer, W. 1993. Maori. Routledge Descriptive Grammars. London: Routledge. Chapell, H. and McGregor, W. (eds). 1996. The Grammar of Inalienability. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Christiansen, H. B. 1977. “Artikelløsheden i Lild og Tømmerby sogne i Vester Hanherred’’. Dialektstudier 4: 1–28. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Dahl, Ö. 1997. ‘‘Egocentricity in Discourse and Syntax’’. http://www.ling.su.se/staff/oesten/ egocentric. Dahl, Ö. and Koptjevskaja-Tamm, M. 1998. “Alienability splits and the grammaticalization of possessive constructions’’. In Papers from the 16th Scandinavian Conference of Linguistics, T. Haukioja (ed.). Publications of the Department of Finnish and General Linguistics of the University of Turku 60. Turku: University of Turku. Dench, A. 1981. ‘‘Kin terms and pronouns of the Panyjima language of northwest Western Australia’’. Anthropological Forum 5: 105–120. Dyen, I., Kruskal, J. and Black, P. 1997. ‘‘IE-RATE1’’. http://www.ldc.upenn.edu/ldc/ service/comp-ie/IE-RATE1. Ebert, K. 1979. Sprache und Tradition der Kera (Tschad). Teil III: Grammatik. Berlin: Verlag von Dietrich Reimer. Evans, N. 1999. “Kinship verbs’’. In Approaches to the typology of word classes, P. M. Vogel and B. Comrie (eds). Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Greenberg, J. H. 1966. Language Universals [Janua Linguarum, Series Minor 59]. The Hague: Mouton. Greenberg, J. H. 1980. “Universals of kinship terminology’’. In On linguistic anthropology: Essays in honor of Harry Hoijer, J. Maquet (ed.), 9–32. Malibu: Udena Publications. Haspelmath, M. 1993. A grammar of Lezgian [Mouton grammar library 9]. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Jakobson, R. 1966. ‘‘Why ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’?’’ In Selected Writings 1. 462–74. The Hague: Mouton. Jonsson, N. 1999. Some grammatical properties of Samoan kin terms. M.A. thesis. Department of Linguistics, Stockholm University. König, E. and Haspelmath, M. 1998. “Les constructions à possesseur externe dans les langues de l’Europe’’. In Actance et valence dans les langues de l’Europe, J. Feuillet (ed.), 525–606. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Levander, L. 1909. Älvdalsmålet i Dalarna. Ordböjning och syntax [Svenska landsmål och svenskt folkliv 1909, H.2]. Stockholm. Lockwood, W. B. 1955. An introduction to modern Faroese. Copenhagen: Munksgaard. Löfström, J. 1988. ‘‘Repliker utan gränser. Till studiet av syntaktisk struktur i samtal’’. Institutionen för nordiska språk, Göteborgs universitet.
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Merlan, F. 1982. ‘‘ ‘Egocentric’ and ‘altercentric’ usage of kin terms in Maarayi’’. In The languages of kinship in Aboriginal Australia, J. Heath, F. Merlan and A. Rumsey (eds), 125–140. Sydney: University of Sydney. Murdock, G. P. 1959. “Cross-Language Parallels in Parental Kin Terms’’. Anthropological Linguistics 1: 1–5. Nichols, J. 1988. “On alienable and inalienable possession’’. In In Honor of Mary Haas: From the Haas Festival Conference on Native American Linguistics, W. Shipley (ed.), 557–609. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Payne, D. L. 1981. “The phonology and morphology of Axininca Campa’’. Summer Institute of Linguistics, no. 66. Payne, D. and Barshi, I. (eds). 1999. External Possession. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Rice, K. 1989. A Grammar of Slave. [Mouton Grammar Library]. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Serzisko, F. 1983. Der Ausdruck der Possessivität in Somali. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Steensland, L. 1986. Liten älvdalsk-svensk och svensk-älvdalsk ordbok. Älvdalen: Ulum dalska. Velázquez-Castillo, M. 1996. The grammar of possession: inalienability, incorporation and possessor ascension in Guaraní [Studies in Language Companion Series 33]. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
Chapter 12
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese Anne-Marie Spanoghe
.
Preliminary remarks
So far there has already been done a huge amount of research on the expression of the so-called possessive relationship in natural human language. Specifically, the so-called (in)alienable possessive relationship and the partwhole relationship are items of top priority in general linguistics and language typology.1 Referring to ‘inalienability’, I briefly recall that this terminology was partly invented by Lévy-Bruhl (1916), who used the term ‘alienable’ to characterize one of the two existing noun classes in the Melanesian languages: The first class (nouns taking the suffix) is constituted by nouns designating body parts, parts of a thing, objects closely related to a person (his/her arms, his/her fishing net, etc.), kinship terms, and some prepositions expressing spatial relations: beside, on, next to, far from, etc. The second class contains all other nouns [. . .] 〈and is characterized by〉 the fact that I possess something as a property, and as an alienable property. 〈In contrast to the alienable property, Lévy-Bruhl supposes the existence〉 of a solidarity that cannot be broken, [. . .] an interdependence, a participation.2
In 1917 Uhlenbeck introduced the terminological opposition alienable vs. inalienable possession.3 In a famous publication of 1926 Bally detected the possible relevance of personal sphere and solidarity in the syntax of IndoEuropean languages.4, 5 Given the fact that as far as I know, there is no investigation describing exhaustively the expression of ‘inalienability’ in the Romance languages,6 I have focused on noun phrases designating body parts (NPbp) in French, Spanish and Portuguese, considering the relationship between a human being and his/her body part(s) as a good example of an inalienable relationship. On the other hand, assuming that the expression of inalienability is subject to
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parameters of a different kind in French, Spanish and Portuguese my research will also focus on the possible relationship between inalienability and determination in these three Romance languages through the functioning of the definite article, the indefinite article and the possessive determiner in European Portuguese.7, 8 From a methodological point of view, my study has a double stratification: the first level presents theoretical viewpoints and the second concentrates more on the description of the empirical data.9 In the first place, I will underline the particular position of the Portuguese language among other Romance languages such as French and Spanish with regard to body part syntax (Section 2). After a short note on Brazilian Portuguese (Section 3), I describe some of the rules of the ‘discourse game’ between the definite article, the indefinite article and the possessive determiner of NPbp in European Portuguese (Section 4).
. ‘Body part syntax’ in French, Spanish and Portuguese . Syntactic functions of NPbp If we take into account the syntactic functions of NPbp , we observe that French, Spanish and Portuguese NPbp prefer, in decreasing order, the functions of direct object (‘DO’), oblique object (‘OO’), subject (‘S’) and indirect object (IO): DO > OO > S > IO. For the Portuguese NPbp the statistics are as follows: Direct Object (52%12) O Escritor ri, encolhe os ombros e abre os braços [. . .]. (M. Alegre, Jornada de África, 157) ‘The Author laughs, shrugs the shoulders and opens the arms’13 Oblique Object (36%) Procuro com a mão o despertador que está a tocar há mais de meio minuto. (L. de Sttau Monteiro, Um homem não chora, 111) ‘I search with the hand the alarm which has been calling for more than half a minute’
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
Subject (11.9%) O seu rosto de porcelana, com olhos dum azul incandescente e cabelos cor de palha, era um modelo de perfeição [. . .].(J. de Melo, Gente feliz com lágrimas, 194) ‘His china face, with incandescent blue eyes and straw hair, was a model of perfection’ Indirect Object (1 item) Os olhos piscavam mais intensamente por detrás dos óculos redondos e brancos, sob a intrincada cabeleira que lhe roubava espaço à testa. (A. Faria, Emenda e soneto, 195) ‘The eyes were blinking more intensely behind the round and white spectacles, beneath the knotty hair which was robbing him of space on the front’ . Syntactic functions of the Possessor Yet, if we examine the syntactic functions of the NP denoting the possessor of the respective body part(s) (‘NPP’), it appears that the Portuguese language differs clearly from French and Spanish. In Portuguese the NPP is expressed in order of preference by:14 Subject function (56%) O Escritor ri, encolhe os ombros e abre os braços [. . .]. (M. Alegre, Jornada de África, 157) ‘The Author laughs, shrugs the shoulders and opens the arms’ Indirect Object (24.4%) Amei-lhe as grandes mãos [. . .].(J. de Melo, Gente feliz com lágrimas, 420) ‘I loved him the big hands’ Pragmatic/discursive factors (10%) Recusa-se a revê-la assim, figura de barro mirando-se na água enegrecida pelas nuvens. Procura os olhos azuis de outrora, os negros cabelos vivos [. . .]. (J. de Melo, Gente feliz com lágrimas, 313) ‘He refuses to see her again like this, a figure of mud contemplating itself in the water darkened by the clouds. He searches for the formerly blue eyes, the dark and lively hair’
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Possessive determiner (6.2%) Ele estava voltado para a janela cerrada e contemplei os seus ombros descaídos [. . .]. (Baptista-Baptos, Cão velho entre flores, 109) ‘He was leaning against the closed window and I contemplated his fallen shoulders’ Direct object (3.4%) [. . .] inclinou-se, beijava-a na boca [. . .]. (Baptista-Baptos, Cão velho entre flores, 30) ‘He leant forward and kissed her on the mouth’ A first glance at the general statistical results mentioned and illustrated by the previous lines allows us a first observation in connection with the “expression’’ of the possessor in the Portuguese language: apparently, the absence of a possessor expression is preferred to its expression on noun phrase level (as a possessive determiner) on the one hand, and to its expression on the propositional level (as a DO) on the other. Parameters of a pragmatic and/or discursive nature assure its identification. This tendency of not expressing the possessor in Portuguese can be more easily observed if we take into account an NPbp in syntactic subject function (Type: His eyes were blazing). In this syntactic configuration, 201 out of 303 Portuguese items do not explicitly refer to the possessor:15 (1) Ao fundo, com sentinelas à porta, estão dois pretos em duas camas, os olhos brilham como brasas [. . .]. (M. Alegre, Jornada de África, 169) ‘At the back, with guards at the door, there are two black people in two beds, the eyes were shining like glowing embers’
Actually, it is in this respect, i.e. non-expression of inalienability, that the Portuguese language is slightly different from both French and Spanish, which are, from a typological point of view, relatively close. In my opinion, the data showing (or the fact)16 that the Portuguese language prefers not to express the possessor and to rely on the context, sheds another light on the problem of “expressing’’ inalienability, raising questions about what the possible influence could be of parameters such as determination and “context’’.17
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
. Extralinguistic ‘context’: Brazilian Portuguese In an earlier publication I have started to explore the possible impact of extralinguistic context on Brazilian Portuguese syntax. In Brazilian Portuguese it is the absence of the definite article before the possessive form which causes difficulties,18 which, in my opinion, cannot be explained as a persistence of fifteenth- or sixteenth-century Portuguese nor as an innovation of Brazilian Portuguese.19 Nevertheless, the analysis of a 2,700 item database20 reveals so many individual differences between the authors21 that the only thing we can confirm is the fact that Brazilian authors with a solid education and living in large towns do respect the tendency of omitting the definite article before the possessive form.22 We thus provisorily leave behind the sociolinguistic track23 in order to reorient ourselves cautiously to the “intralinguistic context’’, i.e. the ‘text’,24 and more particularly, the macrosequential units25 being Fernando Sabino’s tales.26
. Intralinguistic ‘context’: ‘discourse games’ between definite article, indefinite article and possessive determiner . Point of departure: Fernando Sabino’s tales Fernando Sabino’s tales hide, indeed, an interesting fact. It occurs to us that the following example develops what Givón (1987) calls “foreground information’’ and “background information’’: (2)
Desta vez, era o homem da televisão! Não era. Refugiado no lanço da escada entre os andares, esperou que o elevador passasse, e voltou para a porta de seu apartamento [. . .]. Percebeu, desorientado, que estava sendo levado cada vez para mais longe de seu apartamento [. . .]. Depois experimentou apertar o botão do seu andar. (F. Sabino, O homem nu, 66–67) ‘This time it was the television man! No, it wasn’t. Sheltering in the stairwell between the floors, he waited till the elevator passed and went back to the door of his appartment [. . .]. He understood, disorientated , that each time he was being carried away somewhat further from his appartment [. . .]. Then he tried to press the button of his floor’
This example shows that andar (floor) and apartamento (appartment) are treated differently regarding the nature of their determiner. Probably, the class
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of floors (os andares, o seu andar), presented as identifiable from the very start, can be held responsible for the use of the definite article before the possessive form, whereas the item representing the class of appartments (“seu apartamento’’) is not presented as identifiable and is thus (?) considered to be less important in the progression of narration, its function having to be limited to the setting of the main character. In fact, this last observation constitutes a long investigation program. I already announced it by making use of conceptual tools such as ‘text’, ‘narrative discourse’ and ‘identifiability’, terms the definition of which still remains incomplete. On the other hand, the same observation departs from the hypothesis that the nature of the factors determining the functioning of a given human natural language also has an influence on the type of its descriptive model. In the case of Portuguese a discourse model could be an adequate one. . The discourse information-flow: from possessive determiner to indefinite article Now that we have illustrated our theoretical and methodological premises, we can finally attend to the expression of the so-called inalienable possession relationship in Portuguese. With reference to the possessive determiner, theoretically three forms can be taken into account viz. o, o meu, meu which also gives rise to three morphological oppositions:27 1. o vs. o meu 2. o meu vs. meu 3. o vs. meu The first kind of opposition is mentioned — mainly by contrastive grammars — in the light of inalienability expression: o determines the NPbp when the respective possessor is presented as ‘known’and o meu is the determiner of the NPbp if the respective possessor has to be explicitly referred to.28 Secondly, the presence or absence of the definite article before the bare possessive form could be a characteristic of both Brazilian and European Portuguese.29 Finally, up to now we have not found any description opposing the definite article o to the possessive form meu. But even if the productivity of the third kind of opposition still remains open to further investigation, checking briefly its possible existence could be
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
interesting for the elaboration of my investigation. In fact, I did find an example in Brazilian Portuguese where the form meu is used in order to introduce into the text a referent presented as unknown: (3) Um dia o capitão o desafiou com a sugestão de número inédito: – Um mágico já engoliu meu anel e depois devolveu. – Isso é fácil, também sei fazer: me dá o anel. (F. Sabino, O homem nu, 173) ‘One day the captain challenged him with the suggestion of an unknown act: – A magician has already swallowed my ring and then he gave it back. – This is easy, I’am also able to do this: give me the ring’30
In my opinion, the previous passage suggests that the possessive form assumes a discursive function comparable to that of an indefinite article introducing into the text a referent presented as unknown.31 . Indefinite article and ‘inalienability’ So far, the role played by the indefinite article in the expression of inalienability has not been thoroughly examined.32 Generally, it is stated that within the frame of the actualisation theory the NPbp does not follow the expected procedure:33 instead of being introduced in discourse preceded by an indefinite article, it immediately appears with a definite article.34 However, the following pages show that this “associative anaphor’’ occurs with some regularity only if the respective prototypical possessor of an equally prototypical body part has already been introduced in discourse:35, 36 (4) O rapaz alto e magro continuou a olhar para as mãos como se as estivesse vendo pela primeira vez [. . .]. (L. de Sttau Monteiro, Um homem não chora, 144) ‘The tall and thin boy kept looking at the hands as if he was seeing them for the first time’
Given the preceding insights, it seems that we have taken the first steps in an interesting direction which is defined by three crucial questions, each of them marking a stage on what we would call the “(in)alienability continuum’’: Question 1: What could be the impact of a non-prototypical body part on the type of determiner of the NPbp?
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Question 2: Is definiteness of the NPbp the result of the respective possessor’s presence? Question 3: Does a non-prototypical possessor have an influence on the appearance of an indefinite article? Throughout the last stage of our investigation I will try to give some useful answers to these three questions. .. Non-prototypical body parts When we isolate the NPbp referring to a non-prototypical body part on the very moment of its introduction into the text,37, 38 we observe the existence of at least three types of determiners,39 indeed including the indefinite article (two items): (5) A porta da prisão rangeu. Os dedos trémulos da luz tactearam o chão esponjoso, o visco negro das paredes e do tecto. Um homem fardado entrou, cerrou a porta nas costas. – É a hora, amigo? – perguntaram do escuro. – É a hora – responderam para o escuro. O homem fardado bateu os bolsos, raspou um fósforo na escuridão. –Trouxe uma vela – disse. – Gostava de te ver. E acendeu um toco de estearina, que destacou do negrume igual uma face larga e pálida, uns olhos calmos, cansados de amar e de odiar. Os dois homens fitaram-se até se não estranharem. Gotas de água caíam, solitárias, do alto do tecto, empoçando na lama do chão. – Não vais demorar-te? – perguntou o preso. (Vergílio Ferreira, Saturno, ll. 1–16) ‘The door of the prison creaked. The trembling fingers of the light explored the spongy floor, the black viscosity of the walls and the ceiling. A man in uniform entered, closed the door behind him. – Is it time, my friend? – they asked from the dark. – It is time – they answered to the dark. The man in uniform slapped his pockets, lit a match in the dark. – I brought you a candle – he said. – I would like to see you. And he lit a bit of stearin, which made appear from the same dark a large and pale face, a pair of calm eyes, worn out by love and hate. The two men fixed their eyes upon each other till they got acquainted. Drops of water were falling, solitarily, from the ceiling, covering the muddy floor with water.
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
– You won’t be late? – asked the prisoner’
I also registered 11 occurrences of the possessive determiner: (6) Fumei o meu cigarro triste de condenado. E fitando Artur na sua face cansada, nos seus olhos túmidos de sono, expliquei que também eu sofria com o que estava acontecendo [. . .]. (Vergílio Ferreira, O jogo de Deus, ll. 486–489) ‘I smoked my sad cigarette of a condemned man. And fixing Arthur in his tired face, in his drowsy eyes, I explained that I also suffered from what was happening ‘
And, finally, I once more noted the overwhelming presence of the definite article determining the NPbp at the moment of its introduction into the text (20 items): (7) O homem quebrou a cinza do cigarro, enterrou os dedos da mão livre na barba suja e longa. (Vergílio Ferreira, Saturno, ll. 38–39) ‘The man broke the ashes of his cigarette, put the fingers of the free hand in the long and dirty beard’
Obviously, a non-prototypical body part does not require the unconditional use of the indefinite article. On the contrary, in the majority of the cases the definite article is used. .. Non-prototypical possessors My second attempt at discovering parameters ruling the (exceptional) appearance of an indefinite article as a determiner of NPbp is more fruitful and seems to suggest the possible existence of an “(in)alienability continuum’’. Actually, we could speak of a process in which the body part has increasing autonomy and rhematicity and the possessor is slowly fading away: indeterminate inalienability becomes alienability. The following examples may illustrate this process. In example (8), we have a prototypical possessor, a verb of possession and a NPbp occupying a rhematic position:40 (8) Pequenino, trouxera do retiro forçado uma barba cerrada e negra [. . .]. (M. Torga, A criação do mundo, 388) ‘When he was young, he had brought a tight and dark beard from the forced retreat’
We encounter the same rhematicity of the body part when the NPbp assumes
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the OO function.41 Example (9) shows that even if the respective possessor is present, he is presented as increasingly indeterminate: (9) E um vago primo negligentemente vestido, desengonçado, e com uma cabeça de melão, horrorrizou a sensibilidade do dandy copiado de Fradique. (M. Torga, A criação do mundo, 153) ‘And a vague cousin negligently dressed, loose, and with a melon head, horrified the sensibility of the dandy copied from Fradique’
Example (10), already mentioned in a previous paragraph (example (5) supra), however, still has a human possessor but he is presented as vague and indeterminate: (10) A porta da prisão rangeu. Os dedos trémulos da luz tactearam o chão esponjoso, o visco negro das paredes e do tecto. Um homem fardado entrou, cerrou a porta nas costas. – É a hora, amigo? – perguntaram do escuro. – É a hora – responderam para o escuro. O homem fardado bateu os bolsos, raspou um fósforo na escuridão. –Trouxe uma vela – disse. – Gostava de te ver. E acendeu um toco de estearina, que destacou do negrume igual uma face larga e pálida, uns olhos calmos, cansados de amar e de odiar. Os dois homens fitaram-se até se não estranharem. Gotas de água caíam, solitárias, do alto do tecto, empoçando na lama do chão. – Não vais demorar-te? – perguntou o preso. (Vergílio Ferreira, Saturno, ll. 1–16) ‘The door of the prison creaked. The trembling fingers of the light explored the spongy floor, the black viscosity of the walls and the ceiling. A man in uniform entered, closed the door behind him. – Is it time, my friend? – they asked from the dark. – It is time – they answered to the dark. The man in uniform slapped his pockets, lit a match in the dark. – I brought you a candle – he said. – I would like to see you. And he lit a bit of stearin, which made appear from the same dark a large and pale face, a pair of calm eyes, worn out by love and hate. The two men fixed their eyes upon each other till they got acquainted. Drops of water were falling, solitarily, from the ceiling, covering the muddy floor with water. – You won’t be late? – asked the prisoner’
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
In the last two extracts, either the body parts are only remnants of their possessor: (11) Uns ossos encontrados em Maktan, Poro, foram examinados por Bailen, um antropólogo da mesma universidade. (Grande Reportagem, Nov. 1995, 44) ‘Some bones42 found in Maktan, Poro, were examined by Bailen, an anthropologist of the same university’
or the body part (a pele ‘the skin’) is entirely autonomous and does not imply any relationship with a particular possessor: (12) [. . .] o ar estava macio, como se passasse pelo filtro duma pele humana [. . .]. (J. Saramago, Objecto quase, 127) ‘the air was soft, as if it passed through the filter of a human skin’
. Conclusion Not entirely free from circular reasoning, characterizing almost every linguistic approach, my investigation, which is organized from the emissor’s viewpoint and based on empirical data from various Portuguese novels, raises some fundamental questions. First of all, I asked to what extent the nature of a particular natural human language should/could determine the theoretical model aiming at its description. On the other hand, adopting the emissor’s point of view, we face the difficulties of formulating tendencies/rules on the interface between conceptual/philosophical entities — in the present case ‘inalienability’- and empirical data determination:43 the only interface tendency between (in)alienability and (in)determination we found is that it is easier to find the (exceptional) indefinite article introducing a NPbp if the referent of that NPbp is non-prototypical, assumes a rhematic syntactic position and whose possessor is indeterminate or simply does not exist. After all, it seems that the track I have initiated deserves some further thoughts about the possible link between (in)alienability /(in)determination on the one hand, and about the measuring of the subjective extralinguistic experience in the definition of these notions on the other. Or is it simply impossible to eliminate this aspect of circularity?
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Notes . Cf. Riegel (1984, 1991, 1992), Spanoghe (1995), Chappell and Mc Gregor (1996), Baron and Herslund (1997), Heine (1997) and a forthcoming workshop on the part-whole relationship organized by G. Kleiber and M. Riegel. . The original version is as follows: “La première classe (les noms qui prennent le suffixe) se compose des noms qui désignent les membres du corps, les parties d’une chose, les objets en relation étroite avec un homme (ses armes, son filet de pêche, etc.), les relations de parenté, et de quelques prépositions exprimant des rapports dans l’espace: à côté de, au dessus de, près de, loin de, etc. La seconde classe comprend tous les autres noms. [. . .]〈la seconde classe se caractérise par〉 le fait que je possède quelque chose, à titre de propriété, et de propriété aliénable’’ 〈par opposition à la propriété aliénable, Lévy-Bruhl suppose l’existence〉 d’une solidarité qui ne peut se rompre, [. . .] une interdépendance, une participation’’ (Lévy-Bruhl 1916: 99). By “〈 〉’’ I distinguish my own paraphrasing from the original text; the bold is also mine. For more details on the topic, see Spanoghe (1995). . The original terms are vervreemdbaar (‘alienable’) vs. onvervreemdbaar (‘inalienable’) bezit (‘possession’). For more details see Uhlenbeck’s publication (1917: 346): “Van groote waarde voor het bedoelde onderzoek is de omstandigheid, dat in een reeks van talen verschillende soorten van possessie door morphologische verschillen worden gereflecteerd. Wel is het aantal dier grammatische onderscheidingen geenszins in overeenstemming met de werkelijke betrekkingsverschillen, die tusschen den “bezitter’’ en het “bezetene’’ kunnen bestaan, maar althans één in het oog loopend essentieel verschil in den aard der feitelijke betrekking wordt in die talen ook door den vorm te kennen gegeven, namelijk dat der onvervreemdbare of intieme en der vervreemdbare of uiterlijke possessie.’’ [Emphasis mine, A-MS]. . In the original version: “sphère personnelle’’: “[. . .] comprend, ou peut comprendre, les choses et les êtres associés à une personne d’une façon habituelle, intime, organique (p.ex. le corps et ses parties, les vêtements, la famille, etc.’’; “solidarité’’: “[. . .] tout phénomène, action, état ou qualité qui affecte une partie quelconque de la sphère personnelle 〈et qui〉 retentit, par répercussion spontanée, sur la personne tout entière.’’ (Ch. Bally 1926: 68). . See Chappell and McGregor (1996) for an English translation of Bally’s article. . This is probably due to the lack of any operational definition in intensio of “(in)alienability’’. For a good attempt, however, see Seiler (1983). . Cf. Spanoghe (1995). . I will include some observations in connection with Brazilian Portuguese in order to explicitate my reasoning. . The (conceptual) gap between the two descriptive levels is due to our search for an adequate conceptual framework for ‘inalienability descriptions’. (Many thanks to Bill McGregor for sending us his Semiotic Grammar, which we were not able to assimilate before the deadline of this article.) . Cf. Fox (1981). . This paragraph was inspired by Spanoghe (1995). . 100% = 3,275 items from contemporary Portuguese novels (see Spanoghe 1995).
(In)alienability and (in)determination in Portuguese
. We translated almost literally the “inalienability’’ passages of the examples in order to illustrate the particular position of Portuguese. . This statistical result of Possessor expression clearly differs from its expression in French: S > possessive determiner > IO > pragmatic-discourse factors > DO and Spanish S > possessive determiner > IO > DO > pragmatic-discourse factors. . See Spanoghe (1995). In Spanish only 38 out of 471 items do not mark the possessor in the same syntactical configuration and in French we found 56 out of 604 items without reference to the possessor. . Following Milner (1989), a fact is a data associated with the whole of the propositions the data falsifies. . Cf. our terminological hesitations in connection with “pragmatic-discursive factors’’. . Cf. Spanoghe (1998, Forthcoming). . Invoking these parameters, one does not solve the question of the ancient language’s sources nor the problem of the constitution of creoles, cf. Teyssier (1976), Lucchesi (1993). . This database records 2,700 items from 6 contemporary Portuguese novels, three of which are written in Brazilian Portuguese, cf. Spanoghe (1998, Forthcoming). . See Spanoghe (Forthcoming). By “individual differences“ we mean parameters of idiosyncratic or diatopic nature. . In our sample of 2,700 items, nearly 75% of the Brazilian items present the bare possessive form meu in contrast with 25% presenting the compound form with the definite article o meu see Spanoghe (Forthcoming). . Cf. Spanoghe and Formiga (Forthcoming) . We adopt Ducrot’s terminology: “What we call ‘text’ is mostly a discourse considered as the object of a unique choice. The discourse end, for instance, has already been prefigured by the author the moment he formulates the beginning“. The original version is as follows: “Ce qu’on appelle texte c’est d’habitude un discours censé faire l’objet d’un choix unique, et dont la fin, par exemple, est déjà prévue par l’auteur au moment où il rédige le début.’’ (Ducrot 1984: 176). . Brès (1994). . The option I made to place the expression of inalienability in the context of Portuguese contemporary narrative prose provisorily takes for granted that the principles underlying determination of the NPbp are the same in European and Brazilian Portuguese. Otherwise, our observations about Brazilian Portuguese would not have had any significance in our reasoning. . This observation has some significance only if a functional opposition is at stake, cf. Martinet (1967: 27). For some thoughts about the ‘opposition’ between the definite article, the indefinite article and the possessive determiner in French, Spanish and Portuguese, see Spanoghe (1996b). . Still remains the question of what is ‘known’ exactly.
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. In European Portuguese the absence of the definite article is recorded in the vocative, in some idioms, predetermining the word casa and before kinship terms. For further information, see Spanoghe (1997, 1998). . See also example (2) seu apartamento. Concerning this example we suppose that the Portuguese language formalizes as ‘inalienable’ the referent of o anel ‘the ring’. . Suffice it to recall that following Bally (1932) and Christophersen (1939) the indefinite article, unlike the definite article, serves to introduce into the text a referent presented as unknown. . For a first attempt, see Spanoghe (1997). . See Bally (1932), Christophersen (1939). . See Spanoghe (1996a). . See Kleiber (1994) for useful insights about “associative anaphors’’. . Still remains the problem of defining exactly what is meant by a “prototypical body part’’ and a “prototypical possessor’’, cf. infra. . For instance, a body part which does not define a prototypical human being- everybody has eyes, but not everybody has blue eyes. For some useful insights on the “prototypicity’’ of a body part’s possessor, see Seiler (1983). . The interested reader can always consult the global results of our database (Vergílio Ferreira, Contos) in Spanoghe (1998). . We urgently need an investigation recording and analyzing all possible types of determiners of NPbp. . Cf. Chafe (1976), Givón (1976, 1984), Haiman (1983). . The descriptive notion of rhematicity also depends on the emissor who, at any moment (?) in discourse flow, is able to reinterpret in a rhematic manner a referent which already has been presented as thematic: Em todas as mulheres que conhecera até ali via-lhes irremediavelmente o sexo por debaixo das saias. Um sexo que ostensivamente se oferecia ou se negava, em plena floração ou já murcho, ciosamente possessivo ou perfidamente complacente. Um sexo que não dava tréguas ao homem, a insinuar-se . . . (M. Torga, A criação do mundo, 331) [On all the women he had known until then, he saw them inevitably the sex under the skirts. A sex which ostentatiously offered itself or negated itself, in full flower or already fainted, hotly possessive or perfidiously benevolent. A sex which didn’t give any rest to man, insinuating themselves. . .] . For more details about the relation between numerals, indefinite pronouns and articles, see Spanoghe (1997). . See Corblin (1987: 7).
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References Bally, C. 1926. “L’expression des idées de sphère personnelle et de solidarité dans les langues indo-européennes’’. In Festschrift Louis Gauchat, F. Fankhauser and J. Jud (eds), 68–78. Arau: Sauerländer. Bally, C. 1932. Linguistique générale et linguistique française. Bern: Francke. Banfield, A. 1995. Phrases sans parole. Paris: Seuil. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. (eds). 1997. Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3]. Copenhagen Business School. Brès, J. 1994. La narrativité. Louvain-la-Neuve: Duculot. Chafe, W. L. 1976. “Givenness, Contrastiveness, Definiteness, Subjects, Topics, and Point of View’’. In Subject and Topic, C. N. Li (ed.), 25–57. New York-San FranciscoLondon: Academic Press. Corblin, F. 1987. Indéfini, défini et démonstratif. Genève: Droz. Christophersen, P. 1939. The articles: a study of their theory and use in English. Copenhagen: Oxford University Press. Ducrot, O. 1984. Le dire et le dit. Paris: Minuit. Fauconnier, G. 1984. Espaces mentaux. Paris: Minuit. Fox, B. 1981. “The syntax of body parts: towards a universal characterization’’. Studies in Language 5: 323–342. Givón, T. 1976. “Topic, Pronoun and Grammatical Agreement’’. In Subject and Topic, C. N. Li (ed.), 149–188. New York-San Francisco-London: Academic Press. Givón, T. 1984. Syntax. A Functional-Typological Introduction. Vol. I. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Givón, T. 1987. “Beyond foreground and background’’. In Coherence and grounding in discourse, R. S. Tomlin (ed.), 175–188. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Haiman, J. 1983. “Iconic and Economic Motivation’’. Language 59: 781–819. Kleiber, G. 1994. Anaphores et pronoms. Louvain-la-Neuve: Duculot. Lévi-Bruhl, L. 1916. ‘‘L’expression de la possession dans les langues mélanésiennes’’. Mémoires de la Société de Linguistique de Paris 19: 96–104. Lucchesi, D. 1993. “The article systems of Cape Verde and São Tomé Creole Portuguese: general principles and specific factors’’. Journal of Pidgin and Creole Languages 8: 81–108. McGregor, W. B. 1997. Semiotic Grammar. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Martinet, A. 1967. Eléments de linguistique générale. Paris: A. Colin. Milner, J.-Cl. 1989. Introduction à une science du langage. Paris: Seuil. Roegiest, E. and Spanoghe, A.-M. 1991. “Relation de possession inaliénable et qualification en français et en espagnol’’. Revue de Linguistique Romane 55: 81–94. Seiler, H. 1983. Possession as an operational dimension of language. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Spanoghe, A.-M. 1995. La syntaxe de l’appartenance inaliénable en français, en espagnol et en portugais. Bern: Peter Lang. Spanoghe, A.-M. 1996a. “Elementos para uma interpretação discursiva do possessivo português’’.Verba 23: 67–82.
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Spanoghe, A.-M. 1996b. “La construction il lève la/sa tête en français, en espagnol et en portugais. Une approche fonctionnelle’’. In Actes du XXe Colloque International de Linguistique Fonctionnelle, 223–227. Liège-Belgium, 13–19 July 1995. Spanoghe, A.-M. 1997. “L’article indéfini portugais. Introduction à une étude sur son rôle dans l’expression de l’appartenance inaliénable’’. Romanistik in Geschichte und Gegenwart 3: 83–107. Spanoghe, A.-M. 1998. “L’expression de l’appartenance inaliénable en portugais, un problème discursif?’’. In Actes du XXIe Congrès International de Linguistique et de Philologie Romanes, Palermo, 18–24.09.1995. Spanoghe, A.-M. Forthcoming. “Meu Brasil e o meu Portugal. Le possessif brésilien est-il brésilien ou portugais?’’. Cadernos de Estudos Lingüísticos . Spanoghe, A.-M. and Formiga, M. A. Forthcoming. “meu livro vs. o meu livro, brasileirismo ou arcaísmo?’’ Uhlenbeck, C. C. 1917. ‘‘Het identificeerend Karakter der Possessieve Flexie in Talen van Noord-Amerika’’. Verslagen en Mededeelingen der Koninklijke Academie van Wetenschappen V, 2: 345–376. Amsterdam. Teyssier, P. 1976. Manuel de langue portugaise. Paris: Klincksieck.
Database Alegre, M. 1989. Jornada de África. Lisboa: Dom Quixote. Baptista-Bastos. s.d. Cão velho entre flores. Mira-Sintra:Europa-América. Faria, A. 1987. Emenda e soneto. Mem Martins: Europa-América. Ferreira, V. 1993. Contos. Venda Nova: Bertrand Editora. Melo, J. de 19907. Gente feliz com lágrimas. Lisboa: Dom Quixote. Monteiro, L. De Sttau 19735. Um homem não chora. Lisboa: Ática. Sabino, F. 1960. O homem nu. Rio de Janeiro-São Paulo: Ed. Record. Saramago, J. 1984. Objecto Quase. Lisboa: Caminho. Torga, M. 1991. A criação do mundo. Coimbra: Coimbra ed.
Chapter 13
Possessives with extensive use A source of definite articles? Kari Fraurud
.
Introduction
That definite articles develop out of demonstratives is commonly accepted for a number of languages and language families. In this paper I want to raise the question of whether certain possessives can be another potential source of definite articles. In particular, I will examine three of the Altaic and Uralic languages for which it is often claimed that their extensively used possessive suffixes are “used as definite articles’’. Thus, the kind of constructions to be considered here is non-lexical attributive possession constructions, as in, for example her cat as opposed to Ann’s cat (lexical attributive possession) and to she has a cat or the cat belongs to her (predicative possession),1 cf.: Lexical Non-lexical
Predicative Ann has a cat she has a cat
Attributive Ann’s cat her cat
Within non-lexical attributive possession I include not only constructions with possessive pronouns, as in, for example, English (1a), but also their counterparts in other languages, in particular, clitics or affixes that function as possessive determiners or modifiers, as in (1b), cf.: (1) a. English: his hand poss.3sg.masc hand b. Turkish: el-i hand-poss.3sg
When a language with the latter type of non-lexical possessive constructions also has possessive pronouns, these are commonly used only optionally, for instance, for emphasis, and in addition to the clitics/affixes. I will for short refer to non-lexical possessive elements used in the unmarked possessive construction (as well as to the construction itself) as ‘possessives’, abbreviated ‘poss’.2
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And, since most of the possessives relevant to the present discussion are in the third person singular form, poss will in the following, unless otherwise stated, stand for third person singular possessive pronouns, clitics or affixes. In the following two sections I will give a background to and describe two hypotheses about possessives that are used extensively. Then I will consider some possible evidence for and against the hypotheses (Sections 4 and 5, respectively). I conclude with a discussion of alternative interpretations of the available data. Although some observations do indeed suggest that poss in some Uralic languages has developed into something that can be likened to the definite article in languages such as English, I will argue that it may be better to avoid Eurocentric analogies and try to describe this poss in its own terms — as a poss with special characteristics distinguishing it from definite articles as well as from poss in languages like English.
. Point of departure: Three observations The question posed in the title of this paper was inspired by three observations on the use of certain definite determiners. These concern: (a) diachronic patterns in the grammaticalization of demonstratives into definite articles; (b) synchronic patterns of overlap in use between the definite article and demonstrative and possessive determiners; and (c) the extensive use of possessives in some languages. . Grammaticalization of demonstratives into definite articles The grammaticalization of demonstratives into definite articles has been described — sometimes merely assumed — for a number of languages and language families including Germanic, Romance, Bantu and Niger-Congo languages (Greenberg 1978, 1991; but cf. Frajzyngier 1996).3 As regards the pathway of grammaticalization, Greenberg mainly provides discussion of the later stages of the process, where the article either vanishes or grammaticalizes further into a general marker of nominality or gender. About the beginning of the process we still have limited knowledge for many of the languages in question, and in the better analyzed cases there is some divergence in the accounts of the earliest article-like uses of the demonstrative (see e.g. Laury 1991, 1997; Epstein 1993, 1994; Himmelmann 1996, 1997). A particular use of a determiner can of course be defined on different levels of generality, but in the
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
present discussion it may be useful to refer to some of the usage types in Hawkins’ (1978) well-known taxonomy of uses of the definite article in English:4 (2) a. b. c. d.
direct anaphoric use: a car . . . the car associative anaphoric use: a car . . . the clutch immediate situation use: (in a car) Press the clutch! larger situation use: (in Denmark in 1998) . . . the queen
The abbreviated examples illustrate some of the possible definite article uses in languages such as English. Thus, after mentioning a referent, e.g. a car, we may (2a) refer to the same referent, direct anaphora, or (2b) to something that is a part of that referent or otherwise associated with it, e.g. the clutch (of the car), associative anaphora. In the situational context of sitting in a car, we may (2c) refer to something present in the immediate environment, e.g. the clutch, immediate situation use, and, in the larger situational context of being in Denmark in the year 1998, we may (2d) refer to something that can be associated with this context, e.g. the queen (of Denmark in 1998), larger situation use. In addition to these terms for different def-uses (that is, uses of the definite article or, more properly, of noun phrases determined by the definite article), I will use the term anchor, defined in Fraurud (1990) as any element of the linguistic or situational context other than the referent itself in relation to which the reference of a noun phrase is determined. The notion of anchor is relevant in cases of indirect (as opposed to direct) reference, where it is possible to analyze the referent as being associated with or anchored to one or more anchors. In the examples above, the anchor of the clutch in (2b) is a just mentioned discourse referent, the car, and — depending on how far one wants to extend the notion of indirect reference — it is also possible to consider the clutch in (2c) to be anchored to a discourse representation of the immediately present car, and the queen in (2d) to the time-place anchors Denmark and 1998. In terms of actual interpretation processes (as far as our intuitions go), the indirectness and associativity of immediate and larger situation uses is often disputable, however. In particular when it comes to references to ‘unique’ entities like the moon or the sun (of the Earth), their similarity to proper nouns (which refer directly) is striking. To capture this, I will talk about extended associative uses in cases where the anchor is something other than another discourse referent in the focus of attention (see Section 6); non-associative uses will refer to direct anaphora. Now, as regards the grammaticalization of demonstratives into definite articles, my current interpretation of available data and analyses is that —
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with regard to the usage types described above — the process often starts with an extension from a (deictic) immediate situation use. From that may develop direct anaphoric use, or perhaps more generally non-deictic direct reference in the sense of reference based on specific, shared knowledge established either in the preceding discourse or by some earlier conversation or joint experience.5 In the present discussion, I believe the essential property is that of directness of reference as opposed to indirectness and associativity. Furthermore, it seems clear that, in the extension of uses of demonstratives, usage type interacts with and is sometimes overruled by discourse parameters such as prominence or importance of the referent (cf. in particular Laury 1991, 1997, and Epstein 1994). . Overlap in use between different definite determiners The second observation underlying the title question is synchronic and has to do with the overlap in use between different forms of semantically definite noun phrases, viz. noun phrases with possessives (poss), with demonstrative determiners, abbreviated demonstratives (dem), and with definite articles (def) or, in languages without articles, bare noun phrases (Ø).6 In this paper, I refer to all adnominal demonstrative and possessive pronouns as ‘determiners’, regardless of the possibility of analyzing (some or all) instances of these elements in certain languages as modifiers rather than proper determiners (for a discussion, see Lyons 1986 and Plank 1992).7 Furthermore, I will, for brevity, use def, dem and poss both for referring to the determiners and for the constructions in which the determiners are used — definite, demonstrative and possessive noun phrases. In some of the def-uses described in (2), we also find other determiners, such as dem or poss, and the point is that certain patterns can be seen in these overlaps. For example, def alternates with dem in direct anaphora, and with poss in associative anaphora, but not vice versa, cf.: (3) a.
Beside the barn there is a little cottage. The/This cottage was built in 1875. (but: *Its cottage. . .) b. Beside the barn there is a little cottage. The/Its roof is leaking. (but: *This roof. . .)
These patterns of overlaps and non-overlaps are not confined to English, but are wide-spread among the world’s languages. For example, the occurrence of
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
dem in direct but not associative anaphora is apparently so general that it is sometimes used as a criterion for distinguishing dem from def (Himmelmann 1996, 1997). Counter-examples to this generalization are continually debated (e.g. Kleiber 1990; Apothéloz and Reichler-Béguelin 1999), but could perhaps best be described as exceptions that prove the rule, since their interpretations always seems to be marked in one way or another. Similarly, the occurrence of an element classified as poss in direct anaphora might be argued to cast doubt about its being a ‘true’ poss. In languages without a definite article, we find a corresponding alternation between Ø and dem in direct anaphora, and between Ø and poss in associative anaphora. The patterns of overlaps in use can be seen both language internally and cross-linguistically. Cross-linguistically it becomes evident, for example, in translations, where one language shows a stronger preference for def and another language for dem (see e.g. Jonasson 1998, 2000 and for a comparison of French and Swedish determiner use, and Aziz 1993 on English — Arabic). The patterns of overlap in use could be summarized as follows: (4) def (or Ø) ∩ dem: direct anaphora def (or Ø) ∩ poss: associative anaphora dem ∩ poss: (null overlap)
Variation and overlap of different forms is often a reflection of ongoing language change such as, for example, the grammaticalization of dem into def (cf. e.g. Lehmann 1985). A certain use where we find a synchronic overlap between two forms will often turn out to represent the starting point for the expansion of one of the forms into the other’s territory, initializing a grammaticalization process. Thus, it is no coincidence that dem and def overlap in the direct anaphoric use, and that this use is an early extension area for dem to develop into def. The question here is if — analogously — the overlap in use between poss and def in associative anaphora may have some bearing on a possible grammaticalization process involving poss. . Extensive use of possessives in some languages The third observation relating to poss as a potential source of definite articles is again synchronic, or at least mainly so. The extensive use of poss in many Uralic languages is well known among Uralists; in descriptions of these languages it is repeatedly pointed out that the third person and sometimes — for instance in Komi (‘Zyryan’) and Mari (‘Cheremis’) — the second person
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singular possessive suffixes are used “determinatively’’, “as definite articles’’ or “instead of definite articles’’ (e.g. Collinder 1957, 1960: 203; Schlachter 1960; Krámský 1972; Hajdú 1975: 100, Hajdú and Domokos 1987: 223; Rédei 1988; Uibopuu 1988: 269; Leinonen 1998). The Uralist literature is abundant with examples of more or less clearly non-associative uses of poss, such as in the following Komi sentence (Rédei 1978a: 77): (5)
ve r-as limj-is silema n’in forest-iness:poss.3sg snow-poss.3sg melted already ‘In the forest the snow melted already’
Similar observations have also been made for Turkish and other Turkic languages (e.g. Grönbech 1936; Nilsson 1985). Grönbech goes so far as to claim that the Turkish poss suffix has already developed into an article. This has been rejected by Johanson (1991), among others, on the grounds that its use is not systematic.8 In his study of definiteness and article systems in Europe, Bechert (1993) talks about “an area with definite articles: emergent definite articles which have nothing in common with demonstratives’’ — an area which, as I understand it, would comprise most of the Uralic languages (with the exception of Hungarian and Mordvin) and apparently also Turkic languages (Bechert 1993: 13). Bechert also notes, however, that the article in e.g. Mari is optional and thus only ‘emergent’, in contrast to the ‘full-blown’ article in for example German. An extensive use of poss has also been observed in one language which is genetically and areally unrelated to the Ural-Altaic families, and which — ‘already’ — has an (incipient) definite article originating in a demonstrative. Lehmann (1998: 87) notes that Yucatec Maya “uses the possessed nominal [an NP determined by the proclitic/prefixed poss u — KF] in many situations where languages like English use a definite NP’’ (but see below for his further comments upon these uses), e.g. (Lehmann 1998: 87, example 97):9 (6) yàan a t’an-ik u h-men-il deb sbj.2 call-incmpl poss.3 m-shaman-rel ‘you have to call the (pertinent) shaman’
. Hypotheses If we consider the quantitatively and qualitatively extensive use of poss observed in some languages, and a possible analogy with dem in other lan-
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
guages illustrating how a synchronic pattern of overlap in use may be a reflection of a diachronic pattern of grammaticalization, we may arrive at the following hypotheses: (7) H1: poss may — just like dem in some languages — grammaticalize into def. H2: If poss grammaticalize into def, the process starts by an extension within associative anaphora — not, as in the case of dem, with direct anaphora.
In order to evaluate these hypotheses, I have tried to follow up and check all claims about possessives “used as definite articles’’ (or the like) found in a literature survey of works on determiners, including general overviews such as Krámský (1972) as well as over 500 articles on specific languages or language groups. Among the languages mentioned in this connection, there are some for which I have come to the conclusion that they — for separate reasons — are less likely candidates for languages with poss grammaticalizing or having grammaticalized into def. Two such languages are Armenian (Krámský 1972; Comrie 1981: 182) and Tok Pisin (Sankoff and Mazzie 1991). I will leave these out of the discussion here, and instead consider some of the more ‘promising’ candidates. Thus, I will in the present discussion focus on four languages from three language families for which I also have access to some primary data: Komi and Udmurt (‘Votyak’), two Permic languages that may represent several languages in the Uralic family with poss claimed to be used as def; Turkish, representing several other Turkic languages and possibly other languages in the Altaic language family; and, finally, Yucatec Maya, which as far as I know is the only Mayan language to exhibit this phenomenon. I will also briefly consider the semitic language Amharic, for which I have only secondary information, but which is claimed to have definite articles deriving from possessives. In the next two sections I will discuss some possible evidence for and against the hypotheses by examining currently available data on these languages in some more detail and in the light of some things that we know about grammaticalization processes in general (see e.g. Hopper 1991; Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991; Hopper and Traugott 1993), and the grammaticalization of demonstratives into definite articles in particular.
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. Possible evidence for the hypotheses The claims in the literature about possessives being “used as definite articles’’ certainly reflects some truth; in the languages in question, possessives are indeed used extensively both in a quantitative and a qualitative sense. The word ‘extensive’ is of course relative (that is, extensive in comparison to what?), and it may eventually turn out that it is inadequate for describing what is going on in these languages. But let us for the moment go on talking about “extensive use of poss’’ in the admittedly Eurocentric sense of being extensive compared to the use of poss in languages such as English. . Bound, formerly free, possessive morphemes As we know from grammaticalization processes in general, change in meaning or use is commonly accompanied by morphological change from free forms to clitics and from clitics to affixes (e.g. Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991: 213). It is therefore of interest to note that, in all the languages claimed to use poss extensively and non-associatively, poss is in the form of a clitic or an affix. At least in the case of Turkish and other Altaic (Baskakov 1975) and Uralic (Janhunen 1981: 31; Raun 1988: 560; Décsy 1990: 67) languages poss is assumed to have developed out of a personal pronoun (which, according to Raun, in Proto-Uralic already was enclitic). For no language with a free poss morpheme I have found claims about an extensive poss use. . High discourse frequency of possessives One common manifestation of an ongoing grammaticalization process is an increased discourse frequency of the form in question (e.g. Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991). In the absence of diachronic data for a particular language, it may be possible to use discourse frequency either as a criterion for whether a particular form is fully grammaticalized or not, or, more generally, as a measure of how far a particular grammaticalization process has gone. The discourse frequency of a category in one language is then compared to the frequency of related categories in other languages. Such a method of cross-linguistic quantification is proposed by Cyr (1993), who, on the basis of cross-linguistic discourse frequency data, argues that the so-called demonstratives in the Algonquian language Montagnais in fact should be considered definite articles.
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
In the present discussion the relevant quantitative measure is of course — just like in studies of grammaticalizing dem — the discourse frequency of poss relative to that of other forms of NPs. For languages other than the wellresearched Indo-European languages it is often difficult to find discourse data, in particular data based on larger text corpora. The following data on discourse frequencies of poss are rather limited, but may still, I think, give an indication of the considerable quantitative differences between English and some languages that I here characterize as exhibiting an extensive use of poss. For Komi I do not yet have access to more than fragmentary discourse frequency data, but for its sister language Udmurt there are statistical data available from a corpus study by Suihkonen (1990). In Suihkonen’s corpus, the possessive suffix is found in 331 of 1,122, i.e. 30%, of the subject NPs and in 231 of 571, i.e. 40%, of the object NPs. In a Turkish corpus of written nonfiction prose, I found that 1,014 of 3,492 nouns, i.e. about 30%, had the third person singular possessive suffix.10 (For comparison it may be mentioned that the same corpus contained 46 poss: 3P, one singular and eight plural first person possessive suffixes and no second person possessives.) Finally, in a small Yucatec Maya corpus of oral narrative I counted 52 third person singular possessive prefixes on 263 nouns, i.e. about 20%.11 Even though some of these figures are based on restricted data, they are notable in cross-linguistic comparison. All these discourse frequencies of poss differ drastically from those in languages such as Swedish and English, where the frequency of NPs with poss (a third person singular possessive pronoun) is seldom more than a few percent. In a 85,000 word corpus of written non-fiction Swedish, less than two percent of the 19,329 lexical NPs, were poss (N=308, i.e. 1.6%, if we include reflexive and relative pronouns which, however, may also have plural referents, and N=45, or 0.23%, if we exclude these).12 In English, poss is used more frequently, but it is still not comparable to, for instance, Udmurt. A 500,000 word corpus of English fiction and non-fiction texts contained 7,739 instances of the forms his, her and its including uses of his as an independent possessive and of her as an object pronoun.13 Even if we would assume that as many as 7,000 of these forms actually are poss, and that the corpus contains no more than 100,000 lexical NPs, poss would not constitute more than about seven percent of the lexical NPs. Despite the limitations of these data and the diverse and somewhat rough measures used in the calculations of proportions, these figures suffice to illustrate the very high discourse frequency of poss in the languages under consideration as compared to other languages. In Section 5.5, however, I will
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return to this issue with a discussion of how to further evaluate these quantitative data. . Non-associative and extended associative uses of possessives Above we saw two examples of non-associative uses of poss, from Komi and Yucatec Maya. Both could presumably in Hawkins’ terminology be described as larger situation uses, that is, as one kind of extended associative use. In Komi and Udmurt we also find examples of poss in direct anaphoric use, a non-associative use, as in the following example from the Southern Permyak dialect of Komi (Rédei 1978b: 474): (8)
e t-piris´ sec´c´e woktis ruc´. ruc´is cˇig. once then came fox fox-poss.3sg hungry ‘Once the fox [Ø] came that way. The fox [poss] was hungry.’
According to Hypothesis II, this would indicate a fairly advanced stage in a development of poss into def, since direct anaphora would represent a significant extension of the original possessive or associative meaning. For both Turkish and Yucatec Maya, however, the use of poss appears to be less extensive in qualitative terms. In written Turkish texts I have not found any examples of clearly article-like non-associative uses of poss. But spoken Turkish seems to differ somewhat from written in this respect. Schroeder (1999), provides the following example from a conversation in a tailor shop (Schroeder 1999: 131 f., example 15):14 (9) A: s¸imdilik içer-de bes¸ kis¸i çalıs¸-ıyor-uz. at present inside.loc five person work-pres-1pl atölye-ler-e dag˘ıt-ıyor-uz workshop-pl-dat distribute-pres-1pl biz yalnız kesim bölüm-ü-yüz we only cutting department-cp-1pl B: dikim-in-i de s¸ey-de yap-tır-ıyor-sunuz sewing-ap-acc also thing-loc make-cause-pres-2pl A: idare edi-yor-uz tabii. . . dıs¸arı-sı da bizim. . . organize-rp certainly outside-rp also our A: ‘At present there are five of us working inside. We distribute (the work) to the workshops [Ø]. We are only the cutting department [poss].’
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
B: ‘So you have the sewing [poss] also done in whassit.’ A: ‘We organize that, certainly. What-is-outside [poss] also belongs to us.’
The first instance of poss is a compound marker (see below), but the second and third can be described as instances of extended associative anaphoric use, as there is no ‘possessor’, or anchor, in the close context (which becomes evident if we try to replace the article by its in the English translation, e.g. ??its sewing). In Yucatec Maya, more clearly non-associative uses of poss, as in example (6) above, do not appear to be very frequent. Lehmann points out that “in most of the examples there is, in fact, a part-whole, a member-of-set [. . .] or at least an associative relationship [. . .] between the possessed noun and something in the context’’ (Lehmann 1998: 87). The following example is from a narrative about the building of a house, a whole which according to Lehmann has not been mentioned for a while when reference is made to its parts (Lehmann 1998: 87, example 98): (10) [‘Now you have found four pillars; you bring them. When this is ready,’] k-a kaxt-k u báaloh-il you search poss cross.beam-rel ka’ ts’íit báaloh y-éetel u pàach-nah-il two cl.long cross.beam 0-with poss back-house-rel ‘you search the cross-beams [poss]; two cross-beams and the girders [poss]’
In this and similar examples, Lehmann claims that “the relevant whole [. . .] is textually too far away for anaphora’’ and that what the poss does is rather that it “associates the possessed noun to the present universe of discourse’’ (Lehmann 1998: 87, my emphasis). This would again be an example of an extended associative anaphoric use where, in English, the use of a possessive pronoun its would not be permissible.
. Possible evidence against the hypotheses Already in some of the examples presented above, we began to see differences between the Permic languages, Turkish, and Yucatec Maya that seem to call for a more complex account of the phenomenon of extensively used possessives. Let us consider some further observations that may suggest that the predictions in hypotheses (7) are wrong or at least too simple.
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. No obligatoriness Obligatorification is often described as an essential aspect of grammaticalization processes (e.g. Greenberg 1978; Lehmann 1985). That a certain construction has become grammatically obligatory in one or more of its new uses may or may not be taken as a criterion for grammaticalization, or as an indication of how far the grammaticalization process has developed. The relevance of obligatoriness to considerations about grammaticalization, I believe, differ from language to language, and possibly even among categories within one language. In none of the four languages is poss obligatory in any of the extended associative or non-associative uses. Thus if there is an on-going grammaticalization process of poss developing into def, one might suggest that it has not gone very far. On the other hand, in Komi, noun phrase morphology in general is often optional (Baker 1985). More importantly, however, for two of the language families under discussion, some historical data is available that casts further doubt upon the likelihood of an ongoing grammaticalization process. . Historical data suggest time stability As regards the Uralic languages, poss is claimed to have been employed in ‘non-possessive’ definite uses already in Proto-Uralic (which just like most modern Uralic languages had no article), cf.: “The [possessive] suffixes denoting one owner, especially sg. 3., were probably also used as general defining elements’’ (Janhunen 1981: 32). Décsy’s (1990) claim is even stronger: “The definiteness of the noun was expressed by the possessive endings (without possessive meaning)’’ (Décsy 1990: 81, cf. also 66). The statements are interesting, although it is important to remember that they necessarily derive from reconstruction based on comparisons of (more or less) contemporary languages. In the case of Turkish, Ergin (1983: 225) notes that in Old Turkish, spoken up to the thirteenth century, the use of poss was even more extensive than in modern Western Turkish. This is also an observation that may be relevant to our present discussion, although we would like to see more detail about the data and analyses behind the statement. What seems fairly clear, however, is that, in general, the morphology of Uralic and Altaic languages “is extremely resistant to both internal and external changes, [while] the syntax is more vulnerable to influences and consequently to changes’’ (Menges 1968: 182, cf. also Baker 1985).15
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
. Continued possessive use of possessives In the four languages under discussion, there seem to be no signs of poss loosing its possessive meaning; besides its other possible uses, poss continues to be the main means of expressing non-lexical attributive possession. This is in itself no argument against an ongoing development from poss to def, since it is common in grammaticalization processes that change in meaning or use precedes change in form, resulting in a stage where the original meaning coexists with the new, more grammatical, meaning (Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991: 212 f.). But if there is something to the analogy with demonstratives, one would perhaps expect the upsurge of a new poss candidate, which could eventually replace the weakened old poss. One possible development would be that poss further grammaticalizes into def and gradually looses its possessive meaning altogether, and concurrently a new form or construction arises as the unmarked expression of non-lexical attributive possession — a good candidate being the currently optional free possessive pronouns. In the Finno-Ugric languages as a group, a diachronic development from synthetic towards analytic possession constructions has indeed been observed. However, it appears that this development is strongest in some of the languages not claimed to have an extensive use of poss, e.g. Finnish, rather than in e.g. Komi or Udmurt. . Simultaneous extensive use of demonstratives Interestingly enough, an extensive and non-associative use of poss may also co-occur with an extensive use of dem. This is the case in some Udmurt texts that I have examined (from Wichmann 1901).16 One of the texts is a fairy tale narrated in the Malmyzh-Urzhum dialect (Wichmann 1901: text 7). The story has a cyclic structure common to certain fairy tales in many cultures, where a similar sequence of events is repeated with a replacement of some element, in this case the daughter replacing the step-daughter. Let us look at a short excerpt from the first cycle of the story (11a) and its corresponding part in the second cycle (11b). (The form of the NP is indicated within brackets in the English translation; absence of poss implies basic, non-possessive, declension of the noun):
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(11) a.
(from Cycle I) so pits’i korka-n vylem odig peres’ kyshno that little house-ine aux one old woman so peres’ kyshno so nyl min’ts’o estyny kosem that old woman that girl sauna to.heat ordered nyl-yz min’ts’o-ze estem girl-poss.3s sauna-poss:acc heated no so peres’ kyshno [. . .] shuem and that old woman [. . .] said ‘In the little house [dem] there was an old woman [‘ONE’]. The old woman [dem] ordered the girl [dem] to heat the sauna [Ø]. The girl [poss] heated the sauna [poss:acc], and the old woman [dem] said: . . .’
b. (from Cycle II) nyl so pits’i korka pyrem girl that little house entered no ótyn vylem peres’ kyshno and there aux old woman so peres’ kyshno so nyl-ez min’ts‘o estyny kosem that old woman that girl-acc sauna to.heat ordered nyl min’ts’o-jez estem, no peres’ kyshno [. . .] shuem girl sauna-acc heated and old woman [. . .] said ‘The girl [Ø] went into the little house [dem], and there was an old woman [Ø]. The old woman [dem] ordered the girl [dem] to heat the sauna [Ø]. The girl [Ø] heated the sauna [acc], and the old woman [Ø] said: . . .’
The extracts illustrate the direct anaphoric use of both poss and, here frequently, dem — neither of which appears to be obligatory (cf. especially Cycle II). They also exemplify the use of odig ‘one’ for introducing prominent characters (which may or may not represent a first step towards an indefinite article, cf. Givón 1981). The whole story contained 112 NPs (NPs in direct speech excluded) of which as many as 25 were determined by poss and 27 by dem (Table 1). Without making too much out of such a small sample, it is still
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
Table 1. Udmurt (Malmyz-Urzhum dialect): Distribution of lexical NP forms with regard to (i) prominence of discourse referent, and (ii) first/second cycle in a cyclic fairy tale Lexical NPs Cycle I Main characters (N=2) Secondary ch. (N=1) Other participants (N=3) Props (N=17) total Cycle II Main actors (N=2) Secondary ch. (N=1) Other participants (N=3) Props (N=17) total
‘one’ N N-gen N N-poss
‘that’-N N
Total
2 1 2 0
1 0 5 0
7 0 2 9
3 8 4 3
5 0 3 9
18 9 16 21
5
6
18
18
17
64
0 0 0 0
2 0 0 0
1 0 1 5
5 1 1 2
10 7 0 13
18 8 2 20
0
2
7
9
30
48
interesting to note (i) that the two main and second characters (girl and old woman) are introduced by ‘one’ and subsequently referred to by means of either dem or poss (the latter also sometimes used with props)17, and (ii) that the NPs in the first cycle of the story are in general more morphologically complex than those in the second cycle. Thus, the choice of NP form appears to be governed not only by the status of the discourse referent, but also by the status of the particular discourse segment in which the reference occurs, a factor which has been shown to play a role in other languages (e.g. Cain 1991).18 Also as regards the use of dem, the two Permic languages differ considerably from Turkish as well as from Yucatec Maya. Turkish, as far as I have been able to establish, does not seem to employ dem in any article-like way, and the discourse frequency of dem in the written corpus mentioned above is comparable to that of e.g. written Swedish. In the Turkish corpus, 71 of 3,492 nouns were preceded by dem, and in the Swedish corpus also mentioned above 422 of 19,329 lexical NPs were determined by dem — i.e. about 2 per cent in both languages. Yucatec Maya represents an entirely different case, since it has, concurrent with the extensively used poss, a likewise frequently used (possibly incipient) definite article originating in a demonstrative (Lehman 1991, 1998), together with a uncommonly rich set of demonstratives. . ‘Syntactic’ non-associative uses of possessives As is generally the case, gross quantitative data cannot be properly evaluated without careful qualitative analyses. Thus a mere high discourse frequency of
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poss may conceal a variety of different uses of poss, some of which have little if anything to do with definiteness. Consider, for example, the following two uses of poss in Turkish: (12) a.
kız-ın okul-u girl-gen school-poss.3sg ‘the girl’s school’ b. kız okul-u girl school-poss.3sg ‘girls-school’
In Turkish, poss occurs obligatorily on the head noun in possessor-possessee constructions (12a), a use which might be characterized as agreement (cf. Schroeder (1999) who, however, among his Turkish ‘agreement possessives’ includes also those with an anchor referred to outside the NP). Another obligatory use of poss is the clearly non-referential head marker in most kinds of compounds (12b). Similar poss uses are found also in Komi and Yucatec Maya, although perhaps not to the same extent. Thus poss in Komi occurs on the head noun in possessor-possessee constructions, while in Yucatec Maya poss occurs (non-obligatorily) in compounds. The space allotted to this paper does not allow a full discussion of these and other uses of poss which should probably not be included in discourse frequency counts aimed at measuring the possible progression of a grammaticalization process. Let it suffice to point out that it is important to distinguish uses of poss that are governed by discourse parameters like referentiality, definiteness, prominence and topicality, from uses determined by morphosyntactic rules. I find it likely that, for Turkish — and at least to some extent the other languages under discussion — the latter kind of uses may both account for a large part of the high frequency and explain many of the claims in the literature. More conclusive judgements on this issue must await further careful qualitative analysis and characterization of different poss uses, followed by more detailed discourse frequency counts (for a valuable contribution as regards the uses of poss in Turkish, see Schroeder 1999).
. Concluding discussion: Two diachronically stable types of possessives? Let me try to sum up the possible evidence for and against the hypotheses formulated in (7). By analogy with dem grammaticalizing into def, we might
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
expect the following manifestations of a grammaticalization of poss into def: a. b. c. d. e.
change in form from free morphemes to clitics and affixes, increased discourse frequency of poss, employment of poss in certain def-uses (cf. dem: associative anaphora), obligatoriness in some of these uses, emergence of new forms of poss, gradually replacing the old affixed possessives, and f. loss of essential semantic/pragmatic features (cf. dem: proximity distinctions). Due to insufficiency of diachronic as well as discourse data, it can be difficult if not impossible to ascertain whether a particular language displays one or more of these phenomena. Before turning to the evaluation of these hypotheses in relation to my present sample of languages, I would like to briefly mention one language that is not included in my sample because of lack of primary discourse data, but which might actually be an even stronger candidate for a poss-def development. It is the Semitic language Amharic, for which there are also some diachronic data suggesting a development from third person possessive suffixes to what the grammars today call ‘definite articles’ (Armbruster 1908; Leslau 1967, 1995; Kapeliuk 1994). Without further primary data, it is, however, not possible to determine whether the Amharic poss-def is more similar to English-style def than to poss in the four languages of my sample (poss Type II, see below). All things considered, however, I suspect that Amharic poss-def may indeed be a different story. To get back to the four languages under investigation in this paper — Komi, Udmurt, Turkish, and Yucatec Maya — the following may be noted with respect to the hypotheses in (7): a. In all four languages poss takes the form of a clitic or affix, that probably developed from a free morpheme. A change in form has thus already taken place, but there is no evidence that this change in form would have been associated with a change in use. b. All four languages seem to have a very high discourse frequency of poss as compared to Swedish and English. But a high frequency need not imply an increase in frequency over time; on the contrary, some historical data suggest time stability both as regards form and meaning. Furthermore, only a fraction of the many poss occurrences are likely to fall within the domain of def-uses. (This is probably different for different languages. Here my data are still inconclusive, however.)
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c. Among the ‘article-like’ uses of poss, we saw examples of an extended associative anaphoric use, in accordance with hypothesis II, and of the larger situation use, which could be seen as a further extension — an anchoring into the situational context itself. But in Komi and Udmurt we also found direct anaphoric uses. And furthermore, at least in Udmurt we observed a simultaneous extensive use of dem apparently governed by very much the same discourse parameters as the extensive poss use. d. In none of the languages is poss obligatory in any of these uses. Nonobligatoriness does not exclude the possibility that a new category has developed or is developing, but it is a property that differentiates poss from definite articles in general. The observation is also interesting in the light of the historical remarks on Uralic languages, which suggest a scenario where the so called poss is a morpheme that has grammaticalized into its present form and use already in the Proto-Uralic period. This supposition is also supported by the observation on grammaticalization in general that change in meaning and use tends to precede change in form (Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991: 213). e. None of the four languages with extensive poss use seems to show a stronger tendency than their sister languages with less extensive poss use to develop new forms of non-lexical attributive possessive constructions, for instance, replacing synthetic by analytical constructions. f. The employment of poss in some of the extended associative and nonassociative uses does suggest absence of certain semantic/pragmatic features that are always present in English its, for instance. But, just as in the case of high or increased discourse frequency, absence need not imply loss, since we do not know what was there in the beginning. Nevertheless, I believe that, in the case of extensively used poss, the essential semantic/pragmatic property has to do not with possessivity but with referentiality and, more specifically, with focus of attention. This last point requires some elaboration. Recall examples (9)–(10) above on extensive associative anaphoric use, and Lehmann’s remark that what I would call the anchor is “to far away for anaphora’’ (1998: 87). What this means is that the poss in question does not obey any constraint on (anaphoric) pronouns with regard to focus of attention. Our focus of attention is assumed to hold what we at each moment (are able to) keep in working or short-term memory (as opposed to long-term memory). A focussed referent is often defined as one that can be referred to by means of a pronoun, and (rather
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
circularly) referring to something in focus is seen as a constraint on pronominal elements. I would argue that an essential — perhaps the essential — difference between poss in a language such as English and poss in a language such as Komi is that the former but not the latter obeys the focus constraint. Without going into the details of this constraint, I submit that this criterion can be used for differentiating between two types of poss, as per (13): (13) The focus constraint as a watershed between different types of poss: (i) poss Type I has to have an anchor in the form of a referent in the focus of attention. (ii) poss Type II, by contrast, may be anchored to nonfocussed or implicit referents (cf. extended associative anaphora), to contextual elements like time and place (cf. larger situation use), to second and third order entities (cf. discourse deixis, abstract object reference), or even merely to the linguistic or situational context (direct anaphora and immediate situation use).
As regards discourse deixis or abstract object reference, the cases I have in mind are constructions with poss ‘referring’, as it were, to events, propositions, and the like, as in the following constructed Turkish examples: (14) Düs¸-tü-m. Sonra-sı-nı bil-me-m. fall-past-1sg after-poss.3sg-acc know-neg-1sg ‘I fell. I don’t know what happened after (that)’ (lit.: ‘its after’, ‘the after of it’) (15) Gel-e-me-di. come-pot-neg-past Daha dog˘ru-su, gel-mek iste-me-di. more right-poss.3s come-inf want-neg-past ‘He couldn’t come. Or, more correctly (than that), he didn’t want to come’ (lit.: ‘its more right’)
A common characteristic of the range of uses of poss Type II, I think, is that associativity is more essential than referentiality; in some cases it does not even make sense to talk about poss Type II as referring. This property of poss Type II has been partially captured in other words by Sinor (1978: 264) in his “definition’’ of the third person possessive in Uralic and Altaic languages: It is a morpheme which indicates that in the speaker’s mind the concept expressed by the word to which it is added is linked to another concept. It is important to remember that this other concept may or may not be expressed in the same
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sentence. Indeed, it may not be expressed at all but simply implied by circumstances which, on occasion, may be extralingual.
The picture that emerges from this summary is of a poss Type II that (i) shows a remarkable time stability in form, use, and meaning, (ii) has manifold uses, including ones that are neither possessive nor definite, (iii) does not seem to prevent demonstratives from simultaneously occurring extensively in def-uses and eventually develop into articles, and (iv) might perhaps never develop into an article. As regards the last point, I would like to connect to the suggestion above about the possibly Eurocentric bias behind the notion of a poss used “extensively’’ and “as a definite article’’, and conclude by quoting Bechert (1993: 37 f.): But in this continuum [between the possessive suffixes of the second and third persons and an emerging definite article — KF], the end seems to be never reached, at the eastern margins of Europe and in Northern Asia, the definite article remains a category in statu nascendi. It might even be the case that this category in Eurasian languages is a product of our Eurocentric perspective. If we reverse the perspective, we can view the European category of the definite article as a special case of a category of belonging which is denoted indirectly, in Europe, by weakened demonstratives and would be more aptly expressed by possessive suffixes, as it is in Northern Asia and its western outskirts.
With the noteworthy exception of Bechert (1993), accounts of the development of definite articles often impart the impression that the lack of articles in a language is something that it will strive to make amends for, either by developing articles or by using some other means for signaling definiteness. In my view, there is no reason why this should be so. After all, a clear majority of the world’s languages do fine without articles (e.g. Dryer 1989), and many of the purported other definiteness markers could, I think, be accounted for in an alternative way. But this issue takes us far beyond the scope of this paper. Without having been able to provide a conclusive answer to the question posed in the title of this paper, I hope to have taken a first step towards a more accurate and hopefully less Eurocentric account of the uses of poss and other determiners in languages such as Komi.
Acknowledgements I wish to thank Östen Dahl, Orin Gensler, Päivi Juvonen, Anne-Charlotte Rendahl, and Marketta Sundman for suggestions on various points in earlier
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
versions of this paper, and Bill McGregor for illuminating comments and discussion and for correcting my English. I am of course sole responsible for all the remaining deficiencies. The work reported in this paper has been carried out within a project financed by the Bank of Sweden Tercentenary Foundation.
Notes . Alternative terms for predicative and attributive possession are verbal and (ad)nominal possession, respectively (cf. Heine 1997). . Cf. Manzelli’s (1990) ‘possessive adnominal modifiers’. . Contra Greenberg, Frajzyngier claims that there are many languages, e.g. among Chadic languages, in which definite markers neither have or can be shown to have had a deictic function, and many languages in which deictic and definite markers are unrelated. . The taxonomy is, however, not without its problems. For a critical discussion, see e.g. Fraurud (1990). I have replaced Hawkins’ term strict anaphoric by the more commonly used direct anaphoric. . Cf. Himmelman (1996, 1997), who — in contrast to the dominant view — suggests that definite articles develop, not from the anaphoric, but from what he calls the ‘recognitional’ use, characterized as follows: “the intended referent is to be identified via specific, shared knowledge rather than through situational clues or reference to preceding segments of the ongoing discourse. A central feature of this use is that the speaker anticipates problems with respect to the information used in referring to a given referent. [. . .] Such use could always be (and in fact often is) accompanied by a you know? or remember?-type of tag question’’ (1996: 230). . The symbol ‘Ø’ is merely an abbreviation for ‘bare NP’, and should not be taken to imply an analysis of bare NPs as having a zero determiner rather than having no determiner. . Alternative terms for demonstrative determiners are adnominal demonstratives and demonstrative adjectives. . “[. . .] es klar scheint, daß das Possessivsuffix in keiner Türk sprache eine systematische Rolle im Sinne eines bestimmten Artikels spielt’’ (Johanson 1991: 225). . deb=debitive, incmpl=incompletive, M=masculine, and rel=relativizer. . The corpus is a morphologically tagged approximately 7000 word text on archeology, prepared by The Turkish Natural Language Processing Initiative, at Bilkent University, Middle East Technical University, and Halici Computing Inc. . The corpus consists of transcriptions by W. F. Hanks used as a course material. I thank Anne-Charlotte Rendahl for making these texts available to me and for analyzing the data. . The corpus is Skrivsyntax: professionell prosa (‘The syntax of writing: professional prose’), Lund University (see Teleman 1974).
Kari Fraurud
. The corpus is The English-Swedish Parallel Corpus (ESPC), developed by the Departments of English at the Universities of Lund and Gothenburg. I thank Bengt Altenberg and Mikael Svensson for their kind assistance. . Schroeder classifies instances of poss into: cp=compounding possessive, ap=agreement possessive, rp=relational possessive. . Menges uses ‘syntax’ in the modern sense encompassing word order, conjunctions, and the like. Menges also mentions how, in these languages: “the possessive significance of the suffix of the third person can completely recede when it defines or determines a noun, or, more often, a pronoun’’ (Menges 1968: 113). . I would like to thank Eva Lindström for pre-processing the texts for me. . In this analysis, the classification of referents into main and secondary characters, other participants, and props is based on the role they play in the discourse in terms of involvement in actions and number of mentions (for a discussion see Grimes 1975). . Cain shows how a definiteness marker in Hausa is used, not with main, but only with secondary characters, and in the peak of the story.
References Armbruster, C. H. 1908. Initia Amharica. An Introduction to Spoken Amharic. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Apothéloz, D. and Reichler-Béguelin, M.-J. 1999. “Interpretations and functions of demonstrative NPs in indirect anaphora’’. Journal of Pragmatics 31: 363–397. Aziz, Y. Y. 1993. “Explicit and Implicit Reference in Arabic-English Translation’’. Babel 39: 129–150. Baker, R. 1985. The Development of the Komi Case System: A Dialectological Investigation. Helsinki: Suomalais-Ugrilainen Seura. Baskakov, N. A. 1975. “On the common origin of the categories of person and personal possession in the Altaic languages’’. In Researches in Altaic Languages: Papers Read at the 14th Meeting of the Permanent International Altaistic Conference Held in Szeged, August 22–28, 1971, 7–13. Budapest: Akadémia Kiadó. Bechert, J. 1993. Definiteness and article systems. EUROTYP Working Papers I (4), September 1993. Cain, B. 1991. “A discourse analysis of the Hausa fable ‘The hyena and the drum’’’. Journal of West African Languages 21: 45–52. Collinder, B. 1957. Survey of the Uralic Languages. Stockholm: Almquist och Wiksell. Collinder, B. 1960. Comparative Grammar of the Uralic Languages. Stockholm: Almqvist och Wiksell. Comrie, B. 1981. The Languages of the Soviet Union. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cyr, D. 1993. “Cross-linguistic Quantification: Definite articles vs demonstratives’’. Language Sciences 15: 195–229.
Possessives as a source of definite articles?
Décsy, G. 1990. The Uralic Protolanguage: A Comprehensive Reconstruction. Bloomington, Indiana: EUROLINGUA. Dryer, M. S. 1989. “Article-noun order’’. In Papers from the 25th Annual Regional Meeting of the Chicago Linguistic Society, Part One: The General Session, C. Wiltshire, R. Graczyk and B. Music (eds), 83–97. Chicago: Chicago Linguistic Society. Epstein, R. 1993. “The definite article: Early stages of development’’. In Historical Linguistics 1991, J. van Marle (ed.), 111–134. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Epstein, R. 1994. Discourse and Definiteness: Synchronic and Diachronic Perspectives. Ph. D. Thesis. University of California, San Diego. Ergin, M. 1983. Türk Dil Bilgisi. Istanbul: Bog˘aziçi Yayınları. Frajzyngier, Z. 1996. “On sources of demonstratives and anaphors’’. In Studies in Anaphora, B. Fox (ed.), 169–203. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Fraurud, K. 1990. “Definiteness and the Processing of NP’s in Natural Discourse’’. Journal of Semantics 7: 395–433. Givón, T. 1981. “On the development of the numeral ‘one’ as an indefinite marker’’. Folia Linguistica Historica II: 35–53. Greenberg, J. H. 1978. “How does a language acquire gender markers?’’. In Universals of Human Language III, J. H. Greenberg et al. (eds), 47–82. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Greenberg, J. H. 1991. “The last stages of grammatical elements; contractive and expansive desemanticization’’. In Approaches to Grammaticalization Volume I: Focus on Theoretical and Methodological Issues, E. C. Traugott and B. Heine (eds), 301–314. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Grimes, J. E. 1975. The Thread of Discourse. The Hague: Mouton. Grönbech, K. 1936. Der Türkische Sprachbau. Copenhagen: Levin og Munksgaard. Hajdú, P. 1975. Finno-Ugrian Languages and Peoples (translated by G. F. Cushing). London: André Deutch. Hajdú, P. and Domokos, P. 1987. Die Uralischen Sprachen und Literaturen. Budapest: Akadémia Kiadó. Hawkins, J. A. 1978. Definiteness and Indefiniteness: A Study in Reference and Grammaticality Prediction. London: Croom Helm. Heine, B. 1997. Possession: Cognitive Sources, Forces, and Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heine, B., Claudi, U. and Hünnemeyer, F. 1991. Grammaticalization: A Conceptual Framework. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Himmelmann, N. P. 1996. “Demonstratives in narrative discourse: A taxonomy of universal uses’’. In Studies in Anaphora, B. Fox (ed.), 205–254. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Himmelmann, N. P. 1997. Deiktikon, Artikel, Nominalphrase: Zur Emergenz syntaktischer Struktur. [Linguistische Arbeiten 362]. Tübingen: Niemeyer. Hopper, P. J. 1991. “On some principles of grammaticalization’’. In Approaches to Grammaticalization Volume I: Focus on Theoretical and Methodological Issues, E. C. Traugott and B. Heine (eds), 17–35. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Hopper, P. J. and Traugott, E. C. 1993. Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
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Janhunen, J. 1981. “On the structure of proto-Uralic’’. Finnisch-Ugrische Forschungen 44: 23–42. Johanson, L. 1991. “Bestimmtheit und Mitteilungsperspektive im türkischen Satz’’. In Linguistische Beiträge zur Gesamtturkologie, G. Hazai (ed.), 225–250. Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó. Jonasson, K. 1998. “Le déterminant démonstratif en français: un marqueur de quoi?’’. Travaux de Linguistique 36: 59–70. Jonasson, K. 2000. “Translation and deixis. Demonstrative determiners in a French narrative text translated into Swedish’’. In Översättning och tolkning. Rapport från ASLA:s höstsymposium Stockholm 5–6 november 1998, B. Englund Dimitrova (ed.). Uppsala: ASLA. Kapeliuk, O. 1994. Syntax of the Noun in Amharic. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Kleiber, G. 1990. ‘‘Sur l’anaphore associative: article défini et adjectif démonstratif ’’. Rivista di Linguistica 2: 155–175. Krámský, J. 1972. The Article and the Concept of Definiteness in Language. The Hague: Mouton. Laury, R. 1991. “On the development of the definite article se in spoken Finnish’’. In The 1991 Yearbook of the Linguistic Association of Finland, M. Vilkuna and A. Anttila (eds), 93–121. Helsinki. Laury, R. 1997. Demonstratives in Interaction: The Emergence of Definite Articles in Finnish. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Leinonen, M. 1998. “The postpositive particle -to of Northern Russian dialects, compared with Permic languages (Komi Zyryan)’’. In Studia Slavica Finlandensia XV, J. Papinniemi, J. Lindstedt and P. Pesonen (eds), 74–90. Helsinki: Institute for Russian and East European. Lehmann, C. 1985. “Grammaticalization: synchronic variation and diachronic change’’. Lingua e Stile 20: 303–318. Lehmann, C. 1991. “Yukatekisch’’. Zeitschrift für Sprachwissenschaft 9: 28–51. Lehmann, C. 1998. Possession in Yucatec Maya: structures — functions — typology [Lincom Studies in Native American Linguistics 04]. München: Lincom Europa. Leslau, W. 1967. Amharic Textbook. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. Leslau, W. 1995. Reference Grammar of Amharic. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. Lyons, C. 1986. “The syntax of English genitive constructions’’. Journal of Linguistics 22: 123–143. Manzelli, G. 1990. Possessive adnominal modifiers. In Toward a Typology of the European Languages, J. Bechert, G. Bernini, and C. Buridant (eds), 63–111. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Menges, K. H. 1968. The Turkic Languages and peoples. An Introduction to Turkic Studies. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. Nilsson, B. 1985. Case Marking Semantics in Turkish. Ph. D. Thesis. Stockholm: Department of Linguistics. Plank, F. 1992. “Possessives and the distinction between determiners and modifiers (with special reference to German)’’. Journal of Linguistics 28: 453–468.
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Raun, A. 1988. “Proto-Uralic comparative historical morphosyntax’’. In The Uralic Languages: Description, History and Foreign Influences, D. Sinor (ed.), 555–571. Leiden, New York, København and Köln: E. J. Brill. Rédei, K. 1978a. Syrjänische Chrestomatie. Mit Grammatik und Glossar. Aus dem Ungarischen übersetzt von Attila Dabó. Wien: Verband der wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaften Österreichs. Rédei, K. (ed.). 1978b. Zyrian folklore texts (translated by I. Gombos). Budapest: Akadémia Kiadó. Rédei, K. 1988. “Die syrjänische Sprache’’. In The Uralic languages, D. Sinor (ed.), 111–130. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Sankoff, G. and Mazzie, C. 1991. ‘‘Determining noun phrases in Tok Pisin’’. Journal of Pidgin and Creole Languages 6: 1–24. Schlachter, W. 1960. Studien zum Possessivsuffix des Syrjänischen. Berlin: Akademie-Verlag. Schroeder, C. 1999. The Turkish Noun Phrase in Discourse. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz. Sinor, D. 1978. “The nature of possessive suffixes in Uralic and Altaic’’. In Linguistic and Literary Studies in Honor of Archibald A. Hill, III: Historical and Comparative Linguistics, M. A. Jazayery, E. C. Polomé and W. Winter (eds), 257–266. The Hague: Mouton. Suihkonen, P. 1990. Korpustutkimus keilitypologiassa sovellettuna udmurttiin. Suomalaisugrilaisen seruan toimituksia Vol. 207. Helsinki: Suomalais-Ugrilainen Seura. Teleman, U. 1974. Manual för grammatisk beskrivning av talad och skriven svenska. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Uibopuu, V. 1988. Finnougrierna och deras språk (translated by H. Lagman). Lund: Studentlitteratur. Wichmann, Y. 1901. Wotjakische Sprachproben II, Sprichwörter, Rätsel, Märchen, Sagen und Erzählungen. Suomalais-ugrilaisen Seuran Aikakauskirja XIX: 1. Helsinki: SuomalaisUgrilainen Seura.
Chapter 14
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin A. Machtelt Bolkestein
.
Introduction
Heine (1997) identifies six basic syntactic construction types found in the world’s languages for expressing the notion of ‘possession’. Possession in this account covers both the concept of ‘having’ and the notion of ‘belonging’, and both inalienable and alienable, time stable and temporary possession. Four of the six basic ‘participant encodings’ which he identifies are (1a–d): (1) a.
the ‘Action schema’: (Possessee Obj, Possessor Subj) ‘X takes/grasps/has Y’ b. the ‘Goal schema’: (Possessee Subj, Possessor Dative) ‘Y exists for/to X’ c. the ‘Location schema’: (Possessee Subj, Possessor Location) ‘Y is located at/stands/sits at X’ d. the ‘Genitive schema’: (Possessee Subj, Possessor Gen) ‘X’s Y exists’
Latin has both construction (1a) and (1b) for expressing the notion of ‘having’ in what is often called (somewhat misleadingly, as we shall see below) predicative possession, that is, as a main clause, but no equivalent of (1d), the genitive being used only for NP level ‘attributive’ possession (and many other semantic relations between nominal constituents1), as in (3a) below. Another schema not separately mentioned in Heine is the one in (1e), with its variant (1e¹), which is possible in Latin as well: (1) e.
Y is X’s (Possessee Subj, Possessor Gen complement in copular pattern) e¹. Y is X’s Y (Possessee Subj, Possessor adnominal modifier of Possessee)
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
In earlier discussions about differences between ‘have’ expressions as in ‘John has a book’ and ‘be’ expressions as in ‘the book is John’s’ it is often pointed out that the use of the two constructions correlates with a difference in (in)definiteness of the Possessee, and this is often taken as the main factor in determining the choice. It is not impossible, however, to find instances of ‘have’ expressions with definite Possessees (‘John has the/Peter’s book’), and the same holds for the Latin equivalent of (1b): (2)
Sunt tibi regna patris . . . (Verg. Aen. 12.22) are you-dat realms father-gen ‘You have the realms of your father’
This means that the difference should be accounted for by more than just (in)definiteness of the entities involved. A ‘possessive’ relation between two (usually nominal) entities also exists in a construction such as (3b), the so-called Dativus Possessivus or Sympatheticus (Havers 1911): (3) a.
Caesaris ad pedes se iecerunt. Caesar-gen to feet refl threw ‘They threw themselves at Ceasar’s (gen) feet’ b. Caesari ad pedes se iecerunt. Caesar-dat to feet refl threw ‘They threw themselves at Caesar’s (dat) feet’
In linguistic discussions of similar variants in other languages, (3b) is often alluded to as an instance of ‘Possessor raising’ or ‘Possessor ascension’, as a case of ‘external possession’ (see the contributions in Payne and Barshi 1999), and sometimes again as ‘predicative’ or ‘clause level’ (vs. ‘attributive’ as in (3a)) possession. In this paper I will insist on the differences between dative and genitive ‘Possessors’ rather than on their similarities, and at the same time try to show that there are similarities between various other constructions involving Datives in Latin (thus, in a sense, going along with the traditional accounts which tend to follow a form-function approach). In particular I will argue two points. Firstly, speaking of Possessor in instances such as (1b) on the one hand and in both (3a) and (3b) on the other, obscures certain perhaps subtle but essential semantic differences between the latter two constructions, which lead to a difference in distribution between them (that is to say, the ‘Raising’/‘Ascension’ account is misleading). In a number of other, unrelated languages similar
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
semantic differences between the two expression formats have been noticed (see e.g. Mithun’s contribution in this volume). Secondly, these and several other constructions involving datives in Latin (and presumably in other languages) may be described in a coherent way as being situated on different layers of the ‘hierarchically ordered underlying structure’ currently ascribed to utterances in Functional Grammar (for a full account see Dik 1998; further discussion in Vet 1998. For a recent descriptive account of the various uses of the dative case form in Latin, see van Hoecke 1996).
. Other observations concerning the genitive and dative constructions One observation which one encounters regularly, cf. Kuehner and Stegmann (1912), Hoffmann and Szantyr (1965), B. Loefstedt (1963), is that using (3a) rather than (3b) is characteristic of colloquial, vulgar, or late Latin: as evidence for this claim one points to the distribution of (Poss) genitives vs. (Poss) datives in the speeches of (socially) ‘low level’ (dative) and ‘high level’ (genitive) speakers in Petronius (cf., among others, Hoffmann and Szantyr 1965: 94f.; Kuehner and Stegmann 1912; Ernout and Thomas 1953; Petersmann 1977; E. Loefstedt 1956: 225 f.; Hoffmann 1951). The dative is frequent in Plautus, and in technical, non-literary authors such as Plinius NH and Celsus (see Oennerfors 1956 and Englund 1935 respectively), and the use of the dative ‘instead of ’ the genitive seems to increase over time. Note that speaking of ‘instead of ’ implies interchangeability between the two case forms. Another observation found is that more involvement (physical? emotional?) or affectedness of the ‘Possessor’ entity is implied in the case of (3b) than of (3a) (see e.g. Bennett 1914: 134 f.; Hoffmann and Szantyr 1965: 94, following E. Loefstedt 1956: 225 f., speaks of the genitive as being ‘kuehlobjektiver’), and the dative as being both more affected in the state of affairs and being ‘subjektiver, waermer und innerlicher’. This latter statement is difficult to interpret, and seems to imply some kind of difference in attitude on the part of the speaker. The first factor boils down to a difference in distribution according to type of speaker or style of speaker, or according to text type and genre, and period. The second factor may or may not correlate with the first, and is difficult to corroborate, although a high degree of involvement of the Possessor may sometimes be deduced from the state of affairs designated and the context. In both cases the fact that we might be dealing with a basic semantic distinction
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
is neglected: and if this basic semantic difference exists, it may be responsible for differences in distribution as well as for differences in the degree of involvement of the ‘Possessor’ entity.2
. Semantic differences between genitive and dative and their underlying structure in FG In Bolkestein (1983) I propose a semantic analysis and representation of (1b) and argue for recognizing a basic semantic difference between (3a) and (3b), which in a Functional Grammar formalization should also be reflected in the underlying representation assigned to the constructions involved. I will briefly summarize my arguments here. The semantic structure assigned to (3b) shows a similarity to (1b) at the same time. The difference lies in the fact that in (3a) but not in (3b) (nor in 1b) a property is predicated of the Possessee (namely the (time stable, permanent) property ‘being X’s’, ‘belonging to, connected with X’), whereas no such property is being predicated in the case of (1b) and (3b), where we are dealing with (temporary) ownership. In FG terms this means that the genitive Possessor constituent is the result of predicate formation, and that this predicate in the underlying structure of the term functions as the second restrictor, as in (4a). In copular patterns such as (4b), the genitive is a derived predicate as well:3 (4) a.
liber pueri (x: liber (x): {puer Poss} (x)) book child-gen ‘The child’s book’ b. liber pueri est {puer Poss} (x: liber (x)) book child-gen is ‘The book belongs to the child’
There are various kinds of evidence for the predicate status of the genitive Possessor. The first is the fact that Latin has a number of derived adjectives which may be used in the same positions and expressing the same properties as genitive Possessors (cf. Kuehner and Stegmann 1912: I 209 f., 454; Hoffmann and Szantyr 1965: 66, 151 f.). This substitution-possibility is rather restricted, such noun–adjective formation not being an extremely productive process in Latin (it is however not restricted to variation with Poss genitives,
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
but may occur instead of genitives representing Agents or Patients as well, cf. (5c)): (5) a.
arma fraterna weapons brother-adj ‘Brotherly weapons, the weapons of a brother’ b. arma fraterna sunt weapons brother-adj are ‘The weapons are a (one’s) brother’s, belong to a (one’s) brother’ c. fraterna fuga/fraterna caedes brother-adj fleeing/murder ‘The fleeing/murder of a brother’ (6) a. errare hominis est to err man-gen is ‘To err is characteristic of, a property of a man (gen)’ b. errare humanum est to err human is ‘To err is human’
Somehow using the adjective instead of a genitive in (5b) seems less natural: I assume that if the Poss predicate is focal the genitive would normally be chosen rather that the adjective. Obviously the two constructions are not totally synonymous, the genitive being capable of reference to specific referents and of modification by adjectives etc. Another type of evidence of the ‘predicate’ status of the genitive constituent is the fact that one may find such constituents embedded as Object complements of verbs governing a double accusative, such as verbs of ‘considering’ (ducere, habere etc.) and verbs of causation (curare, facere) as in (7)–(8): (7) a.
hanc pecuniam tuam, haud fratris duco this money yours not brother-gen I consider ‘I consider this money (to be) yours, not your brother’s, to belong to you, not to your brother’ b. hanc pecuniam patris duco this money father-gen I consider ‘I consider this money to belong to my (your etc) father’ (8) a. errare hominis duco to err man-gen I consider ‘I consider erring (to be) characteristic of man’
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
b. errare humanum duco to err human I consider ‘I consider erring (to be) human’ (9)
hanc pecuniam tuam/patris facio this money yours/father-gen I make ‘I make this money your’s/father’s’
It is impossible to either replace the dative in (1b) by an adjective, or to find a dative as Object complement in constructions such as (7)–(9). Note, however, that the so-called Dativus Finalis or Predicative dative of abstract nouns does in fact function as a predicate, and may therefore occur in such constructions: (10) a.
hoc tibi laudi est this you-dat praise-dat is ‘This is for you a reason to be praised, makes you praiseworthy’ b. hoc tibi laudi duco this you-dat praise-dat I consider ‘I deem this to be a reason to be praised for you, to make you praiseworthy’
In contrast, in the case of (1b), the dative Possessor does not predicate a property of the Possessee, but is one of the two participants involved in the state of affairs. This state of affairs may, but need not be an existential one: it may also be a locative, or a copular one (due to the fact that in Latin existential ‘be’ and copular ‘be’ are the same verb, that definiteness is not expressed and that word order is flexible, the surface structure in the latter case is ambiguous between an existential reading, with the adjective functioning as a second restrictor within the noun phrase (c¹), and the copular reading with the adjectival predicate as Subject complement (c): (11) a.
puero liber est {EXIST} (x1:liber)0 (x2:puer) ‘Poss’ ‘The boy has a book’ b. puero liber in villa est {villa Loc} (x1:liber)0 (x2:puer) ‘Poss’ ‘The boy has a book in the villa’ c. puero liber carus est carus (x1:liber)0 (x2:puer) ‘Poss’ ‘The boy has a cherished book’ [alternative interpretation: ‘ the book is dear to the boy’]
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
c¹. {EXIST} (x1:liber:carus)0 (x2:puer) ‘Poss’
In Bolkestein (1983) I suggest the label Experiencer for the semantic function fulfilled by the dative on the basis of a number of considerations. Firstly the dative in construction (1b) is almost never a non-animate entity, (+human) Datives being the overwhelming majority. Thus one rarely encounters clauses such as (12): (12) Huic templo statuae pulchrae sunt. the temple-dat statues beautiful are ‘This temple has beautiful statues’
This holds not only for the ‘Possessive’ dative in construction (1b), but for the construction (3b) as well. In other languages comparable constructions exhibit similar restrictions: (13) a. b. c. d.
She touched the leg of the table. ?She touched the table on the leg. She touched his leg. She touched him on the leg.
In Latin I found only a few exceptions to this tendency, mainly in Pliny NH, such as (14b–c) as opposed to (14a):4 (14) a.
ne . . . crescat gurgiti altitudo (Plin. NH 8.11) ‘that not the depth of the whirlpool (dat) increases’ b. (herbae) quibus flos antequam caules exeant (Plin. NH 1.21.66) ‘(Herbs) whose (dat) flower blooms before its sprouts’ c. folia arbori decidunt (Plin. NH 1.12.23, 1.16.33) ‘The leaves of the tree (dat) fall’
In the case of genitive Poss no semantic restrictions hold either on NP level or when the genitive is a Subject complement in a copular pattern. For examples of the last kind cf. (15b), where the relation between the Subj ‘Possessee’ and the genitive constituent is completely similar to that in (15a) in spite of the fact that the genitive ‘Possessor’ designates an abstract notion: (15) a.
sollicita iustitia non est sapientis (Cic. Rep. 3.39) ‘Worried justice is not typical of a wise man’ b. hoc sentire prudentiae est (Cic. Sest. 86) ‘To feel this is part of being sensible’
Note that the nature of the relation between the two entities involved in the
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
genitive constructions changes according to the semantic properties of the constituents involved (cf. note 1). With respect to its semantic features, the dative with the verb esse does not seem essentially different from the dative found in two other constructions in Latin, namely those where the Subject is a Gerundium (a verbal noun) as in (16b) or an action noun, as in (16a): (16) a.
quid tibi (hanc) tactio est? ‘What need is there for you to touch (this woman)?’ b. tibi eundum est ‘You have to go’ c. tibi haec tangenda est ‘She has to be touched by you, you have to touch her’ d. tibi hanc tangendum est ‘You have to touch her’
I consider instances such as (16a), which is archaic and almost limited to Plautus, and (16b) and the also archaic and rare construction (16d) — which is parallel to (16a) in that the verbal noun governs an accusative case Object — to all have the underlying structure of (11a), that is, the predication is existential, and what is predicated to exist is a relation between a potential action and a human Experiencer participant. The fact that a ‘modal’ meaning results from such a predication is not unparallelled in other languages (the potential action may be a verbal noun, or an infinitive, and the modal meaning may be one of possibility rather than deontic necessity).5 As I point out in Bolkestein (1980), I have seen no instances where the so-called dativus Auctoris exemplified in (16b) and (16c–d) designates a non-human entity apart from a few which can be explained as implying human participants anyway (this does not mean that the verbal predicate involved must necessarily designate a controllable action, since I also found predicates such as perire ‘perish’ and algere ‘be cold’ in this construction. That latter verb illustrates that states are allowed as well as [+ dynamic] states of affairs). The Gerundivum in (16c) is comparable to (11c), with the verbal adjective predicating a relation between the two participants referred to by tibi and haec. The ‘predicate’ status of the verbal adjective appears from its occurrence not only as an attributive modifier within noun phrases, but also as Object complement of verbs of considering such as ducere, habere etc. and causative verbs such as curare, facere, etc.:
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
(17) a.
Carthago delenda est ‘Carthago has to be deleted’ b. Carthaginem delendam curo ‘I have Carthago be deleted’ c. Carthaginem delendam duco ‘I am of the opinion that Carthago has to be deleted’
There is a long standing debate among Latinists which of the two (16b) or (16c) is the older construction; I tend to favour (16b) exactly on the basis of the existence of (16a and d), and for typological reasons. It is attractive but speculative to view (16c) as originally having the structure of (11c¹), with the NP haec tangenda as Subj with a so-called dominant modifier, the modifier later being reanalyzed as Subj complement in a copular pattern. Anyway, to return to the main issue, assuming that (i) the semantic role of the dative can indeed be characterized as an Experiencer role in both (1b) and (3b), (ii) that there is indeed a basic semantic difference between the two ‘Possessive’ constructions in (3a–b) in this respect, and (iii) that the status of the genitive resp. dative constituent in the predication as a whole differs as well, two further differences in semantic properties of the two constructions follow in a natural way, namely one concerning the type of relation between the ‘Possessee’ item and the ‘Possessor’ item, and one concerning the type of state of affairs involved. One restriction holding for construction (3b), apart from the [+ animate] requirement on Poss, sometimes explicitly observed in the handbooks (cf. e.g. Bennett 1914: 135 f.), is that we are almost always dealing with a close, usually inalienable, relationship between the two constituents, and especially with part–whole relationships (body part–owner of body part). Occasionally we find entities such as a person’s clothing, or even one’s ship: (18)
confracta navis in mari est illis (Pl. Rud. 152) ‘Their (dat) ship has been shipwrecked’
There is no comparable restriction to close relationships between Possessee and Possessor in the case of the genitive. Interestingly, when the close relationship is that of a family-tie, we find genitives in instances where we might expect datives, as in (19): (19) a.
alicuius filium corrumpere (Pl. Most. 1138) ‘To corrupt someone’s son’
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
b. alicuius filiam vitiare (Ter. Ad. 466) ‘To violate someone’s daughter’
The Object Patient ‘Possessee’ constituents in instances such as (19a–b) are themselves [+ human] and therefore capable of experiencing the state of affairs: perhaps this explains why the Possessor entities are not presented as Experiencers. Another restriction holding for the Dative (Experiencer) construction is the fact that the type of state of affairs must be such that the Dative participant can indeed be affected by it. Thus in spite of a part whole relationship in (20a), the alternative (20b) is not acceptable, whereas it is acceptable in the case of (21a–b): (20) a.
membra eius videbam/cognovi ‘I saw/recognized his (gen) limbs’ b. ?Ei membra videbam/cognovi ‘I saw/recognized him (dat) the limbs’ (21) a. lassitudo/horror membra eius tenebat/occipit ‘Weariness/horror held/occupied his (gen) limbs’ b. Ei lassitudo/horror membra tenebat/occipit ‘Weariness/horror held/occupied him (dat) the limbs’
‘Seeing’ someone is not likely to affect him. Note that both state and dynamic verbs occur. The majority of verbs cooccurring with dative Experiencers, however, turn out to be dynamic rather than static, and denote the occurrence of some kind of change in the body part and its ‘Possessor’. A notable exception where I would have expected a genitive rather than a dative is (22): (22) rostra his (sc. porphyrionibus) et praelonga crura rubent (Plin. NH 10.129) ‘Their (dat) beaks and long legs are red’
Some other interesting examples are (23): (23) a.
patrono meo ossa bene quiescant (Petr. 39.4) ‘Let my patron’s (dat) bones rest in peace’ b. (apes) sedere in ore infantis tum etiam Platonis dormientis, suavitatem . . . portendentes (Plin. NH 11.55) ‘(bees) sat on the lips of the then still young Plato (gen) while he was sleeping, predicting the sweetness’ c. alicuius . . . stomachus cibum respuit (Celsus 3.6.1) ‘Someone’s (gen) stomach throws up the food’
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
Sentence (23a) illustrates that the dative is not required to actually be able to be aware of what is happening; on the other hand in (23b) the genitive may have been chosen rather than the dative exactly because Poss is ‘unaware’ of the event. Interestingly, in (23c) (and a number of other instances in Celsus) we are dealing with a person-body part situation, but the potential affectedness of the person involved seems to be treated as irrelevant.
. Other datives and underlying utterance structure The dative constituents discussed up till now have been described as being a participant in the state of affairs (the nuclear predication). For (1b) and the Gerund construction with esse this description seems adequate. However, in a Functional Grammar account of (3b), the decision has to be taken whether the dativus Sympatheticus is actually to be regarded as an extra argument of the verbal predicate involved or rather as a satellite to the state of affairs as a whole (that is, as on a par with Time, Place and Circumstance satellites). An argument against the latter view might be the fact that Possessors of body parts are clearly treated as arguments of the predicate in one construction which could be viewed as a sort of mirror image of the dative construction, that is, the construction with the so-called retained accusative and its Possessor as syntactic Subject, as in (24): (24) a.
caput vulneratus est head-acc wounded-nom (he) is ‘He is wounded on the head’ b. bracchium ictus cecidit arm-acc hit (he) fell ‘He fell hit on the arm’
Whereas not all constructions in which the dative Experiencer appears have a passive equivalent such as (24), all instances of (24) seem to have an active equivalent with the Subject entity as dative.6 Without further resolving this particular issue, I briefly want to discuss two types of datives which function as satellites on the interpersonal level (the propositional and the utterance layers) of the underlying structure rather than on the representational ones (the layers of the nuclear and the extended predication):
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
(25) a.
a foro eunti domus a dextra parte est ‘For someone coming from the forum the house is on the right’ b. Quintia formosa est multis ‘Many find Quintia beautiful’ c. ceteris deus, sibi certe homo est ‘In the eyes of the others he is a god, in his own eyes surely a man’ (26) a. Quoianam vox mihi prope hic sonat? (Pl. Rud. 229) ‘What kind of voice does sound here nearby?’ (surprised: do I suddenly hear) b. Hic tibi rostra Cato advolat (Cic. Att. 1.14.5) ‘Here comes Cato flying to the speaker’s chair!’ (do you see it?) c. Ecce tibi iste de traverso (Rhet. Her. 4.10.14) ‘Look there that guy goes from aside’
In (25) we are dealing with the so-called Dativus Iudicantis, in (26) with the Dativus Ethicus. The latter is (almost?) always either a first or second person pronoun, that is, coreferent with either the speaker or the addressee, and therefore closely connected with the here-and-now of the speech situation. In Functional Grammar the underlying structure of utterances is viewed as consisting of a number of hierarchically ordered layers, which represent different order entities. The lowest layer is the predicational layer: a predication designates a state of affairs (a second order entity, which can be specified as to its Time and Place in reality), and itself consists of relations (predicates) and participants (first order entities)). Predications are viewed as being contained by a proposition (a higher (third) order entity which may be specified as to its truth value; and propositions are contained within the product of a speech act which carries a certain basic illocutionary force in the situation in which it is exchanged (the other way round: utterances (speech products) (often) contain propositions which contain predications which consist of predicates and arguments situated in time and space). While opinions differ about what kind of entity the highest level of the structure should represent, and what situational parameters should be included in the formal structure (see the discussions in Hannay and Bolkestein 1998), in at least one much used approach variables for Speaker and Addressee form part of the structure itself, as in (27), which would be the representation of a declarative sentence with non modalized positive polarity, such as ‘Quintia is beautiful’: (27)
E:DECL (S) (A) (POSPOL X: (e: beautiful (Quintia)))
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
(E=variable for speech act or product, DECL= an abstract illocutionary predicate with S(peaker), A(ddressee) and X (=variable for proposition) as arguments). In the case of modalization by means of ‘surely’ or ‘must/might be’ or ‘according to me’, the proposition is expanded by modal operators and/or satellites, which are then attached to the propositional layer of the hierarchical structure. Whether or not one accepts this structure as in all details a correct view of the content of an utterance,7 it is clear that the function of the dative constituents exemplified by (25) is to delimit the truth value of the proposition (or part of it) as less than universally accepted, and that they may therefore be said to function on the propositional layer of the structure. Stretching the notion of Experiencer, one could view the dative as representing an ‘Experiencer’ of the truth value of the proposition contained in the utterance. The datives in (26) do not have anything to do with truth value (note that they may occur in combination with different basic illocutionary forces (sentence types)) and they are not part of either the nuclear predication or the proposition. Just like vocatives, they function on the level of the utterances as exchanged between two speech participants (and are for that reason presumably impossible to be embedded as part of indirect speech).8 Again one could stretch the notion of Experiencer and state that such datives represent an ‘Experiencer’ of the speech situation. In any case, in a FG representation such as (27), or one of the alternatives proposed recently (e.g. Dik 1998, Vet 1998), the dative would be situated outside (on a higher layer than) the propositional layer. Independently, Smith (2001) reaches a similar conclusion for ‘Ethic’ pronouns in Romance.
. Conclusion In this paper I have argued that the Possessive dative and the dativus Sympatheticus in Latin, though involved as possessors/owners with respect to some possessed item in the extra-linguistic world, linguistically behave quite differently from Possessive genitives: they do not function as predicates predicating a property of the possessee, but as arguments or satellites with the semantic function Experiencer rather than Possessor on various layers of the hierarchical structure of the utterance. This characterization correlates with a number of semantic properties of the constructions in which they occur.
A. Machtelt Bolkestein
Whether or not it is felicitous to extend the notion of ‘Experiencer’ to those datives which function as satellites on the propositional (iudicantis) and on the utterance level (ethicus), the layered structure account can nicely accomodate the various uses of this case form discussed above.
Notes . Obviously I do not want to suggest that the genitive case form denotes Possessorhood: the function of the case is no more than indicating that there is a syntactic link within a noun phrase between the genitive constituent and its syntactic Head. . A final observation, much made of in B. Loefstedt (1963), is the fact that the dative is much more frequently a pronoun than a full noun. This may correlate with differences in the distribution of topicality and focality over the component parts of the two constructions (this is in fact sometimes claimed with respect to the ‘have’ and ‘be’ variants in the literature on these variants in other languages). Statistically predicates tend to be more often focal in predications than referents are. However, this is no more than a tendency, and there is nothing in principle which forbids the dative to carry focus, nor the genitive to be topical. . For the sake of simplicity I leave out irrelevant details from the formal representation. . In the case of Effective Objects non animate datives occur more frequently, but they may perhaps be categorized as Beneficiaries (Dativus Commodi) rather than as ‘Poss’ (‘Exp’): cf. colorem lanis ‘to create colour for the wool’ (Plin. NH 1.319), claritatem oculis ‘clearness for the eyes’ (Plin. NH 25.143), vilitatem auro facere ‘dullness for gold’ (Plin. NH 33.50), etc. . In Latin modal constructions with infinitival Subjects are rare, but cf. expressions such as: praecipue mirari est ‘one should especially wonder’, scire non est ‘it is impossible to know’ etc. Interestingly, constructions with habere ‘have’ also develop modal meanings. . The ‘retained’ accusative is not limited to passives, but also occurs with adjectives (flavus capillos ‘blond of hair (acc)’ etc. — in which case the term retained is of course less applicable — the parallel dative construction in that case would be (1b) : ei capilli flavi sunt ‘his (dat) hair was blond, he had blond hair’). . Dik (1998) explicitly rejects incorporating S and A within the structure of the clause, as do Vet (1998) and Bolkestein (1998). Dik does retain other than basic illocutionary forces as elements within the structure (as operators on the speech act level), whereas Vet (1998) and Liedtke (1998) only retain basic illocutionary force (sentence type). See Hannay and Bolkestein (1998) for discussion. . These datives often occur with present tense (real or lively historical), and in combination with elements like hic, ecce, en etc. It would be interesting to investigate what other speech situation bound elements they tend to cooccur with (infinitivus historicus? exclamatives?), and what elements they tend not to be combined with.
Possessors and experiencers in Classical Latin
References Bennett, C. 1914. Syntax of Early Latin II: The Cases. Boston. Reprint: Hildesheim: Olms [1966]. Bolkestein, A. M. 1980. Problems in the description of modal verbs: an investigation of Latin. Assen: Van Gorcum. Bolkestein, A. M. 1983. “Genitive and Dative Possessors in Latin’’. In Advances in Functional Grammar, S. C. Dik (ed.), 55–91. Dordrecht: Foris. Dik, S. C. 1998 a–b. The Theory of Functional Grammar, Part I: The structure of the clause. Part II: Complex constructions. Second revised edition, ed. by Kees Hengeveld. Berlin and New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Englund, J. 1935. Kasussyntaxen hos A. Cornelius Celsus. Goeteborg: Elander. Ernout, A. and Thomas, F. 1953. Syntaxe latine. Paris: Klincksieck. Hannay, M. and Bolkestein, A. M. (eds). 1998. Functional Grammar and Verbal Interaction. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Havers, W. 1911. Untersuchungen zur Kasussyntax der indogermanischen Sprachen. Strassburg: Truebner. Heine, B. 1997. Possession. Cognitive Sources, Forces and Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hoffmann, J. B. 1951. Lateinische Umgangssprache [3rd ed.]. Heidelberg: Winter. Hoffmann, J. B. and Szantyr, A. 1965. Lateinische Syntax und Stilistik. Munich: Beck. Kuehner, R. and Stegmann, C. 1912–1914. Ausführliche Grammatik der lateinischen Sprache II. Satzlehre (2 vols). Hannover: Hahnsche Buchhandlung. Liedtke, F. 1998. “Illocution and grammar: a double level approach’’. In M. Hannay and A. M. Bolkestein (eds), 107–127. Loefstedt, B. 1963. “Zum lateinischen possessiven Dativ’’. Zeitschrift für vergleichende Sprachwissenschaft 78: 64–83. Loefstedt, E. 1956. Syntactica I. Studien und Beiträge zur historischen Syntax des Lateins [2e erw. Aufl.]. Lund: Gleerup. Oennerfors, A. 1956. Pliniana. Uppsala: Almqvist och Wiksell. Payne, D. L. and Barshi, Y. (eds). 1999. External Possession. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Petersmann, H. 1963. Petrons urbane Prosa. Untersuchungen zu Sprache und Text. Vienna: Akademie. Smith, J. C. 2001. ‘‘Illocutionary conversion, bystander deixis and Romance ‘Ethic’ pronouns’’. Working Papers in Functional Grammar 74. Department of Humanities, University of Amsterdam. van Hoecke, W. 1996. ‘‘The Latin dative’’. In The Dative, W. van Belle and W. van Langendonck (eds), 3–37. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Vet, C. 1998. “The multi-layered structure of the utterance: about illocution, modality and discourse moves’’. In M. Hannay and A. M. Bolkestein (eds), 1–23.
Chapter 15
The difference a category makes in the expression of possession and inalienability Marianne Mithun
A basic distinction drawn in discussions of the grammar of possession is that between attributive and predicative constructions. Attributive constructions typically presuppose possession and involve modifiers in nouns or noun phrases: my dog. Predicative constructions typically assert possession and involve verb phrases or clauses: The dog belongs to me or I have a dog. Yet certain languages appear to express attributive possession in verbs. Such structures can be seen, for example, in languages of the Siouan family centered on the Northern Plains in North America, the Chinookan family spoken along the Columbia River on the Northwest Coast, and the Iroquoian family centered in the Northeast: (1) Lakhota (Siouan): Stan Redbird, speaker phehí˛ wécˇašla phehi˛ wa-ki-ka-šla hair 1sg.ag-poss-cause.with.instrument-be.bald hair I cut his ‘I cut his hair’ (2) Kathlamet (Chinook): George Cultee, speaker, to Boas 1901: 10.14 uałqæ´: amiux úlx ama imí·łatx n uałqæ´ a-m-i-x -u-lx am-a i-mi-łatx n thus fut-2erg-masc.abs-poss-speak-fut masc-2poss-nephew thus you will speak to yours your nephew ‘How can you tell your own nephew such a thing?’
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(3) Mohawk (Iroquoian): Leatrice Beauvais, speaker Wahinonhsóhare’se’ wa-hi-nonhs-ohare-’s-’ factual-1sg.ag/masc.pat-house-wash-poss-prf ‘I cleaned his house’
A closer look at their structures shows that they are not quite what they seem. It has long been recognized that many languages exhibit a distinction in their nominal possessive constructions, one used for such expressions as ‘my head’ or ‘my father’, the other for ‘my hat’ or ‘my firewood’. The first type is generally known as ‘inalienable’, ‘inseparable’, or ‘indivisible’ possession, and the second as ‘alienable’, ‘separable’, or ‘divisible’ possession. The entities classified grammatically as inalienable vary from language to language, but they typically include body parts and/or kinsmen, spatial relations (the top of an object), and often other intimately associated objects, such as one’s home, certain personal tools, footprints, or thoughts. (Extensive discussion is in Chappell and McGregor 1996.) As early as 1926 Charles Bally noted that a similar distinction is signaled in Indo-European languages by other grammatical patterns, such as the clausal dative of involvement construction in French (4a), in place of a possessive determiner in the noun phrase (4b): (4) French inalienability in the clause: Bally 1926 a. On lui tranche la tête one him.dat slice the head ‘They’re cutting his head off ’ (clausal construction) b. On déchire [ses habits]. one rips [his.gen.pl clothes] ‘They’re ripping [his clothes]’ (nominal construction)
Bally linked the notion of inseparability to the sphère personnelle which ‘can include objects and beings associated with a person in an habitual, intimate or organic way’ (1996 [1926]: 33). Taking Bally’s observations as a point of departure, Chappell and McGregor (1996a) show that the expression of inalienability is not limited cross-linguistically to word or phrase-level constructions (the noun or noun phrase), but may also be carried by clause-level constructions, such as Bally’s dative of involvement in (4a), body-part locatives (The dog bit Cliff on the ankle), and noun incorporation as in (3). In all of these constructions the possessor (lui, Cliff, -hi- ‘I’/‘him’) appears as a core argument of the clause.
The difference a category makes
These constructions have sometimes been described as the products of ‘possessor ascension’, ‘possessor raising’, or ‘possessor promotion’, based on an assumption that the possessor nominal has been removed from its basic position as a modifier within the noun phrase. As Blake (1993) and others have pointed out, however, the appropriateness of such analyses is called into question by the fact that the clausal constructions differ in meaning from their putative sources. Not only are they limited to inalienable possession; one can say The dog bit Cliff on the ankle but not *The dog bit Cliff on the hat. They also represent the victim as more intimately affected than their nominal counterparts: The dog bit Cliff ’s ankle. Several other features have been associated with the clausal constructions as well. Bally pointed to the relevance of the part–whole relation in the dative of involvement: Each constitutive element of the [personal] domain is regarded, not as a simple property, but as an integral part of the person . . . The idea of indivisibility or of being part of a whole follows directly from the above: each phenomenon, action, state or quality which affects any part whatsoever of the personal domain, automatically affects the whole person. The part of the body directly affected is only the medium for a condition which spreads to the whole system. (Bally (1996 [1926]: 33), translated by Christine Béal and Hilary Chappell.) The importance of the part–whole relation in inalienability is further pursued by Herslund (1997). Bally also observed that possessors in such constructions are typically animate. One might say, for example, On lui a coupé la jambe (one her.dat cut the leg) ‘They cut her leg off ’ about a person but not about a table. Describing Romanian, Manoliu-Manea (1996) shows that clausal constructions typically involve topicalization as well. In the Siouan, Chinookan, and Iroquoian languages, core arguments of the clause are represented within the verb by pronominal prefixes. Thus verbs can and often do constitute complete, grammatical sentences in themselves, specifying both predicate and arguments within a single word. The affixes translated as markers of possession in examples (1)–(3) are part of the verbal morphology, but they are elements of clause-level constructions. The clausal status of the constructions suggests that they might be of the type discussed by Bally and by Chappell and McGregor as markers of inalienable possession. Here we will examine their structures and uses more closely to determine whether their primary function is indeed to signal attributive possession, then investigate the interrelationships they reflect among features that have been
Marianne Mithun
associated with such constructions, particularly inalienability, intimacy of involvement, partitivity, animacy, and topicality.
.
Nominal versus clausal constructions
In addition to the clausal constructions seen in (1)–(3), Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk also contain nominal possessive constructions, as in (5)–(7): (5) Lakhota possession on nouns: Stan Redbird, speaker nitháhayápi ki˛ blužáža h nit a-hayapi ki˛ wa-yu-žaža your-clothing the.past 1sg.ag-by.pulling-wash ‘I washed your clothes’ (6) Kathlamet possession on nouns: Boas 1901: 115.9 Icktúkuipck kánaui táx i i-ck-tu-kui-pck kánaui táx i imm-masc.pl.erg-pl.abs-carry-water.to.shore all those t´stamqu t-sta-mqu pl-du.poss-wood ‘They carried up all their wood’ (7) Mohawk possession on nouns: Warisose Kaierithon, speaker iakonnià:tha’ ne raonahsire’shòn:’a iak-onni-a’t-ha’ ne raon-ahsire’-shòn:’a fem.ag-make-instr-imprf the masc.pl.poss-blanket-dist ‘She makes their blankets with it’
The fact that the nominal and clausal constructions coexist so robustly in each language suggests that they are functionally distinct. The examples seen so far indicate that clausal constructions might indeed be used for inalienable possession (hair, nephew, house), while nominal constructions are used for alienable possession (clothing, wood, blankets). This pattern is typical in natural speech. It is not exceptionless, however. In all three languages, both inalienable and alienable possession can be conveyed by either nominal or clausal constructions. The circumstances under which speakers choose each are revealing.
The difference a category makes
The use of Lakhota nominal constructions for apparently inalienable possession can be seen in (8), and the use of clausal constructions for apparent alienable possession in (9): (8)
Lakhota nominal constructions with inalienables: D 1932: 12.4, Stan Redbird, speaker a. hé micˇhu˛´kši yúzi˛kta cˇh˛í h hé mi-cˇ u˛kši yuzi˛-kta cˇh˛í that 1sg.poss-daughter catch-irr desire that one my daughter he will marry her he wishes ‘He wishes to marry my daughter’ b. micˇ˛íkši ki˛ khúžacha khuža=cˇha mi-cˇ˛ikši ki˛ 3poss-son the.past ill=since ‘since my son was sick . . .’
(9)
Lakhota clausal constructions with alienables: Stan Redbird, speaker, D 1932: 13.3 a. hayápi waglúžaža ha-yá-pi wa-ki-yu-žaža skin-cover-nomr 1ag-poss-pulling-wash clothing I washed mine ‘I washed my clothes’ b. íš wasé glubléblel hináži˛ íš wasé ki-yu-bleblel hi-náži˛ 3emph red.earth poss-pulling-break.rdp arrive-stand she warpaint untying hers she came and stood ‘… she advanced with her bag of face paints open …’
Kathlamet shows similar exceptions, as in (10) and (11): (10)
Kathlamet nominal constructions: Boas 1901: 9.7, 159.3–4 a. Aqa ikłúquat łkáx an aqa i-k-ł-u-quat ł-ka-x an then imm-fem.erg-neut.abs-x-bathe neut-fem.poss-child then she washed it her child ‘Then she washed her child’
Marianne Mithun
b. icłúqumst łáqauwulqt . . . i-c-ł-u-qumst ł-qa-uwulqt imm-masc.erg-neut.abs-away-drink neut-indef.poss-blood he drank it their blood ‘He drank their blood’ (11) Kathlamet clausal constructions: Boas 1901: 206.3, 133.15, cited in Hymes 1955: 236 a. iskixílakua istáx anim i-s-ki-x-l-akua i-sta-x anim imm-3du.erg-masc.abs-poss-move-around masc-3du.poss-canoe they two turned theirs around their canoe ‘They turned their canoe around’ b. anixúxtkama a-n-i-x-ú-xtk-am-a fut-1erg-3masc.abs-poss-from-steal-purp-fut I will rob mine icxial. i-c-xial. masc-1sg.poss-workman my workman ‘I am going to rob my workman’
Similar exceptions appear in Mohawk, as in (12) and (13): (12) Mohawk nominal constructions: W. Kaierithon, T. Jacobs, speakers a. Iotkà:te’ ronwatikaratón:nis iotka’te’ ronwati-karatonni-s often fem.agt/3pl.pat-storytell-imprf often she would tell them stories ne ronwatiien’okòn:’a ne ronwati-ien’-okon’a the fem.agt/3pl.pat-child-dist the her children ‘She would often tell her children stories’
The difference a category makes
b. ienontsì:ne iahaié:na’ ie-nontsi=hne i-a-ha-iena-’ fem.poss-head=loc transloc-factual-masc.ag-hold-prf her head he touched it ‘He touched her head’ (13) Mohawk clausal constructions: T. Jacobs, K. Jacobs, speakers a. Wahi’serehtóhare’se’ wa-hi-’sereht-ohare-’s-’ factual-1sg.ag/masc.pat-vehicle-wash-poss-prf ‘I washed his car’ b. Iah ne wén:ton ónhka’ iah ne wén:ton ónhka’ not the ever someone not the ever someone teskonwawennahrón:ken te-s-konwa-wenn-ahronk-en neg-rep-indef.pl./fem-word-hear-stative did they word-hear her again ‘No one ever heard her words again’
The distinction underlying the choice between the nominal and clausal constructions is not inalienability after all. It is affectedness. The clausal construction is used when the individual translated as a possessor is considered the most significantly affected participant in an event or state. A choice of the construction in (8a) ‘He wishes to marry my daughter’ would have indicated that the speaker considered himself more significantly affected by the marriage than his daughter. In (10a) ‘Then she washed her child’ it would have indicated that the speaker considered herself more significantly affected by the washing than her child. In (11a) ‘She would often tell her children stories’ it would have indicated that the speaker considered the storyteller more affected by the storytelling than the children. By contrast, a clausal construction was chosen in the Kathlamet ‘They turned their canoe around’ in (11a). By turning the canoe the two boys turned themselves around as well, heading toward shore. The effect of the change in direction on the boys was portrayed as more significant than its effect on the canoe. The choice of the clausal construction in the Mohawk ‘No one ever heard her words again’ in (13b) reflects the deeper point of that utterance: the
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woman was never heard from again, that is, she disappeared. The effect on her was portrayed as more significant than the effect on her words. Often the rationale behind the choice of construction is not obvious without an understanding of the context. One might think, for example, that drinking someone’s blood would have a more significant effect on the victim than on his blood, and prompt the choice of the clausal construction. Yet a nominal construction was used in the Kathlamet ‘He drank their blood’ in (10b). The line comes from a tale about a man who loved blood. If he could not find enough, he would kill his wives and drink theirs. After he had bought one wife, her brothers worked diligently to supply him with blood, in order to protect their sister. They gave him five sea lions, and he drank their blood (as in (10b)). The sea lions were already dead at this point and played no other role in the story. The effect of the action on them was thus not portrayed as significant. They simply characterized the kind of blood consumed. One might think that if my workman is robbed, he is more seriously affected than I. Yet a clausal construction was chosen in the Kathlamet (11b) ‘I am going to rob my workman’. It comes from a tale about Owl and Panther, who lived together. A young woman was sent by her father to marry Panther, but she encountered Owl first. Owl, pretending to be Panther, made her his wife and took her home. The house was full of meat and grease, but the grease on Owl’s side was ugly and green, taken from intestines, while that on Panther’s side was lovely and white. Owl went to Panther’s end of the house to find some nice grease for his new wife, saying he would just get some from his workman. He used the clausal construction to indicate that by taking fat from the workman’s area he was really taking it from himself. Speakers have choices in their portrayal of affectedness. In (14a) and (15a) the speaker focused on the property and the horse with nominal possesssion. In (14b) and (15b), the focus was put on me (the speaker), with clausal constructions: (14) Lakhota choices: Boas and Deloria 1941 a. mitháwoyuha manu˛´’ h mit a-wa-yuha manu˛? 1sg.poss-things-possess steal my property he stole it ‘He stole something belonging to me (among other stolen property)’
The difference a category makes
b. wóyuha mamákinu˛’ wa-yuha ma-ma-ki-nu˛ things-possess steal-1sg-poss-steal property he stole from me ‘He stole property from me’ (15) Lakhota choices: Boas and Deloria 1941: 88 a. mithášu˛ke ki˛ naphé’ mitha-šu˛ka ki˛ na-phe 1sg.poss-dog the.past by.foot-flee my horse the it fled ‘My horse has run away’ ’imákiyayapi’ b. šu˛´kakha˛ h šu˛ka-wak a˛ i-ma-ki-yaya=pi dog-great to-1pat-poss-have.gone=pl horse mine have gone ‘My horses have run away’ (I am horseless.)
Similar choices can be seen in Kathlamet. Both sentences in (16) involve a mat, but nominal possession was used in (16a), while a clausal construction was used in (16b): (16) Kathlamet choices: Boas 1901: 11.16, 12.1 a. ikłústxula łkáq apnx i-k-ł-u-stxula ł-ka-qapnx imm-fem.erg-neut.abs-app-carry.on.back neut-fem.poss-mat she was carrying it on her back her mat ‘She was carrying her mat’ b. inłaxskam łkáq apnx i-n-ł-a-x-sk-am ł-q ka-apnx imm-1erg-neut.abs-fem.dat-poss-take-cmpl neut-fem.poss-mat I took hers her mat ‘I took her mat away’
People in a village were starving. One youth could see Hunger, a supernatural being, coming into the settlement in the evenings carrying a mat on her back. She would peer into the window of a house, and soon people living in the house would die. The mat was actually a powerful medicine bundle. The youth plotted to destroy Hunger by seizing her bundle. In (16a) the effect of carrying did not go beyond the mat. When the youth took the mat in (16b),
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he ultimately destroyed her, an effect expressed with a clausal construction. Similar choices can be seen in (17). A young man was told that he had been kidnapped as a child, and that the woman he lived with was not his mother. He was instructed in (17a) that the way to destroy her was to cut her throat first. The nominal construction was used here to focus on the throat, specifying just where he should cut. Once he had cut it, something round would jump out of it which he was told to break in order to kill his kidnapper. The clausal construction in (17b) comes from another tale. Two sisters regularly went berrypicking together. One day while they were out, the wicked elder sister Robin ate a louse she had found on the good younger sister Salmonberry. She exclaimed at its sweetness and suggested that her younger sister would probably taste sweet too. When Salmonberry returned home she warned her sons that if she were to disappear, they should flee, so that Robin would not eat them, too. One day Robin returned home alone. The clausal construction was used in (17b) to announce the demise of Salmonberry, focusing on the effect of the event not on the neck but on Salmonberry herself: (17) Kathlamet choices: Boas 1901: 11.4, 119.9–10 a. [. . .] łq up amiúxua icátuk. łq up a-m-i-x-u-a i-ká-tuk. cut fut-2erg-masc.abs-irr-do-fut masc-fem.poss-neck cut you will (cut) it her neck ‘[If you want to kill her], cut her throat’ b. Qušt, łq up ikiáxux Qušt, łq up i-k-i-á-x-ux behold cut imm-fem.erg-masc.abs-fem.dat-poss-apparently-do behold cut shei cut hersj ‘Behold, she had cut icátuk wux i akámtx ix i-ka-tuk wux i a-ka-mtx ix masc-fem.poss-neck that fem-fem.poss-younger.sister herj neck that her younger sisterj the throat of her younger sister’
. Diachronic sources The functions of the clausal constructions are easily understood once their
The difference a category makes
structural sources are considered. The constructions in the three languages show fundamental similarities. . Lakhota Verbs in Lakhota, as in all Siouan languages, contain pronominal prefixes for first, second, and inclusive persons, but none for third. The prefixes reflect a semantic agent/patient distinction, though the choice is now lexicalized with each stem (Mithun 1991). Participants instigating events and states are categorized as grammatical agents (below left), while those affected but not in control are categorized as grammatical patients (below right): (18) Lakhota pronominal prefixes: Stan Redbird, speaker wa-híʔ ‘I came’ ma-hí˛xpaya ‘I fell’ ya-híʔ ‘you came’ ni-hí˛xpaya ‘you fell’ u˛-híʔ ‘you and I came’ u˛-hí˛xpaya ‘you and I fell’ hiʔ ‘(he/she/it) came’ hi˛xpáya ‘(he/she/it) fell’ wa-ktékte ‘I’ll kill (him/her/it)’ ma-ktékte ‘(he/she/it) will kill me’ ya-ktékte ‘You’ll kill (him/her/it)’ ni-ktékte ‘(he/she/it) will kill you’ ma-yá-ktekte ‘you’ll kill me’
If the effect is indirect, a dative prefix ki- marks the indirectness: (19) Lakhota indirectness or dative: Stan Redbird, speaker oyá-yaka omáyakiyaka o-yaka o-ma-ya-ki-yaka about-2agt-talk about-1pat-2agt-dat-talk ‘You talked about it, told a story’ ‘You talked about it to me, told me’
A possessive relationship is often inferrable from the specification of indirect effect. If the death of a horse affected someone indirectly, a likely explanation is that the horse was his: (20) Lakhota dative interpreted as possessive: Boas and Deloria 1941: 128 šu˛´kakha˛ wa˛ kit é’ h šu˛ka-wak a˛ wa˛ ki-t e dog-great a dat-die horse a it died on him ‘A horse died on him’ → ‘His horse died’
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. Kathlamet In Kathlamet, as in other Chinookan languages, pronominal prefixes on verbs distinguish first, second, and third persons, as well as inclusive and exclusive first persons, and masculine, feminine, and neuter third persons. Ergative, absolutive, and dative cases are distinguished, with the pronouns appearing in that order within the verbal morphology: (21) Kathlamet core arguments: ergative-absolutive-dative: Boas 1901: 139.16 actnlúta a-c-t-n-l-u-t-a fut-masc.erg-3pl.abs-1sg.dat-to-x-give-fut ‘He shall give them to me’
Coreference among core arguments is indicated by a reflexive prefix -x-: (22) Kathlamet reflexive: Boas 1901: 14.5 Aqa ikixquat aqa ik-i-x-quat then imm-3masc.abs-refl-wash ‘Then he washed himself’
As in most languages, the dative argument represents an individual indirectly affected by the situation. If an agent carries out an action that affects himself or herself indirectly, the dative is coreferential with the agent. The coreference is marked by the reflexive prefix: (23) Kathlamet reflexive effect: Boas 1901: 104.16, cited in Hymes 1955: 236 anłxáya a-n-ł-x-á-ya fut-1erg-neut.abs-refl-haul.ashore-fut ‘I will haul her ashore for myself’
The verb in (23) was uttered by the character Mink, who set a dish in the water near the shore in hopes of attracting a woman. He announced, ‘If somebody should come to take that dish, I will haul her ashore; I will lie down with her all day.’ Mink apparently saw himself as the most significant beneficiary of his act, a fact indicated by the reflexive dative. This reflexive prefix has sometimes been interpreted as a marker of possession within the verb. One may indeed be indirectly affected by action on one’s possessions. But the specification of indirect affectedness and possession
The difference a category makes
are distinct in Kathlamet: affectedness is specified in the verb, and possession is specified in the noun. The verbal marking of affectedness and the nominal marking of possession often cooccur within sentences, because action on a possession often indirectly affects the possessor, but either can occur without the other. We saw affectedness without possession in (23) ‘I will haul her ashore for myself ’, and possession without affectedness in (10a) ‘Then she washed her child.’ Affectedness with and without possession can be compared in the sentences in (24) below. The arrows in (24a) belonged to the boy, but the sinew in (24b) had been borrowed. (The noun for ‘sinew’ is feminine in gender, but the noun contains no possessive prefix): (24) Kathlamet affectedness with and without possession: Boas 1901: 12.1, 190: 2 a. Aqa itxátquam aqa i-t-xa-t-qu-am then masc.erg-3pl.abs-refl-take-completely-cmpl then he finished them on himself tiáqamacx t-ia-qamacx 3pl-masc.poss-arrow his arrows ‘He used up all his arrows’ b. ikaxłx um wúx i aqíłata i-k-a-x-łx u-m wúx i a-qiłata imm-fem.erg-fem.abs-refl-finish-cmpl that fem-sinew she had finished it on herself that sinew ‘She had used up all the sinew’
The Kathlamet reflexive construction has been extended in an interesting way. If the person indirectly affected is other than the agent, this affected person is identified by a dative pronominal prefix. The reflexive suffix -x- can still appear to link the absolutive argument (the object directly affected) with the dative argument (the person indirectly affected). This time the relationship is not perfect coreference, a fact already marked by the distinct absolutive and dative pronouns. They share the effect: the dative is affected indirectly through the absolutive, a situation that can arise, for example, when possessors are affected by actions on their possessions. This is the structure seen in (2) and (16b).
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. Mohawk The pronominal prefixes on verbs in Iroquoian languages, as in Siouan languages, show an agent/patient pattern: (25) Mohawk pronominal prefixes Grammatical agents Grammatical patients k-tákhe’ ‘I run’ wak-í:ta’s ‘I sleep’ s-tákhe’ ‘you run’ sén-ta’s ‘you sleep’ ra-tákhe’ ‘he runs’ ró:-ta’s ‘he sleeps’ ie-tákhe’ ‘she runs’ iakó:-ta’s ‘she sleeps’ s-k-arewáhtha’ ‘you’re hurting me’
Indirect effect is indicated by a dative applicative suffix on the verb. In constructions containing the applicative, the grammatical patient, specified within the pronominal prefix complex, is marked as indirectly affected. It usually refers to a semantic goal or beneficiary: (26) Mohawk benefactive: Rokwaho Dan Thompson, speaker skwatá:ko shekwatákwa’s s-kwatakw she-kwatakw-a’s 2sg.ag-fix 2sg.ag/fem.pat-fix-dat ‘Get it ready, fix it up!’ ‘Fix it for her!’
Mohawk also shows extensive noun incorporation, whereby a noun stem usually invoking a semantic patient is compounded with a verb root to yield a new compound verb stem. These stems, like others, may occur with dative applicatives, as in (27). Such structures have sometimes been identified as possessive constructions (Baker 1999): (27) Mohawk clausal construction: Rokwaho Dan Thompson. speaker she’serehtakwatákwa’s she-’sereht-a-kwatak-a’s 2sg.ag/fem.pat-vehicle-epenthetic-fix-dat ‘Fix the car for her!’
The notion of possession is actually not part of the grammatical structure. If an event or state involving an object indirectly affects someone, one likely explanation is that the person is the owner. If you are fixing a car for her, a possible inference is that the car belongs to her. Dative arguments are thus often interpreted as possessors of objects evoked by incorporated nouns. But possession is not specified by the structure.
The difference a category makes
The sentence in (28) below has the same structure as that in (27) above, but the beneficiary ‘him’ is not interpreted as the possessor of the incorporated door. Inferences of possession are based on context and real-world knowledge, not this grammatical structure. The possessor of the door in (28) was actually the woman opening it rather than the boy outside, just as we might expect from our general experience with visit protocol: (28) Mohawk incorporation without possession: Niioronhia’a Montour, speaker Wahonwanhotónkwahse’ wa-honwa-nh-oton-kw-hs-’ factual-fem.ag/masc.pat-door-close-rev-dat-prf ‘She opened the door for him’
. Intimacy of affectedness: directness of effect A feature that has been associated with inalienability is ‘intimacy of effect’. As pointed out by Blake (1990: 102) and by Chappell and McGregor in the introduction to their inalienability volume (1996a: 7), the clausal construction The dog bit Cliff on the ankle represents the bite as more intimately affecting Cliff than does the nominal in The dog bit Cliff ’s ankle. Inalienability and intimacy of affectedness are indeed closely related, but grammatical structures in Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk show that they are ultimately distinct. Two of the languages distinguish inalienability overtly in their nominal possessive constructions. Both Lakhota and Mohawk contain two paradigms of possessive prefixes for nouns. In Lakhota, inalienable possession is indicated on nouns by the same pronominal prefixes as those marking patients on verbs: ma- or mi- ‘my’, ni- ‘your’, u˛kí- ‘our’. (There is no third person prefix.) Alienable possession is shown by the marker tha˛- preceded by the same pronominal prefixes: mitha˛´- ‘my’, nitha˛´- ‘your’, tha- ‘his/her/its’, u˛kítha˛- ‘our’. One thus says ma-sí ‘my foot’ and ma-íte ‘my face’, but mithá-šu˛ka ‘my horse’ and mithá-hayapi ‘my clothing’. In Mohawk, inalienable possession is indicated on nouns by nearly the same pronominal prefixes as those marking agents on verbs, while alienable possession is indicated on nouns by nearly the same prefixes as those marking patients on verbs. One thus says k-ahsi’tà:ke ‘my foot’ and k-konhsà:ke ‘my face’ but ak-itshé:nen ‘my domestic animal’ and akw-atià:tawi ‘my coat/shirt/dress’. In addition to their clausal constructions marking indirect affectedness, Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk all contain a second type of clausal con-
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struction that is often interpreted as attributive possession. In this type, the participant identified as a possessor is cast as a core argument of the clause, as in the clausal constructions described above, but there is no marker of indirectness. In Lakhota the participant is expressed as a grammatical patient, but the verb does not contain the indirect prefix ki-: (29) Lakhota: Stan Redbird, speaker, Boas and Deloria 1941: 129 phá mayáza˛ sí makáhu˛’ h pá ma-yaza˛ sí ma-kahu˛ head 1sg.pat-ache foot 1sg.pat-cut head I am in pain foot (he) slashed me ‘I have a headache’ ‘He foot slashed me’ =‘My head aches’ =‘He slashed my foot’
In Kathlamet the participant identified as the possessor appears in the absolutive rather than dative case, and there is no reflexive prefix: (30) Kathlamet: Boas 1901: 234.5 qałkiuquílx mx qa-łk-i-quilx -m-x non.imm-neut.erg-masc.abs-strike-cont-rep she struck it repeatedly iáq aqstaqpa i-ia-q aqstaq-pa masc-masc.poss-head-loc on its head yáx i imúlak yax i i-mulak that masc-elk ‘She struck the elk on the head’ = ‘She struck the elk’s head’
In Mohawk the participant identified as the possessor (as in Baker 1997) is cast as the grammatical patient of the clause, but there is no dative suffix to mark indirectness: (31) Mohawk direct effect: Kaia’titahkhe’ Jacobs, speaker wahikonhsóhare’ wa-hi-konhs-ohare-’ factual-1sg.ag/masc.pat.sg-face-wash-prf ‘I washed his face’
The difference a category makes
Such constructions are used primarily with body parts, just the entities that are normally considered inalienably possessed. The sentence in (31) with incorporated noun -konhs- ‘face’ is fine, but nearly the same sentence, with incorporated noun -nonhs- ‘house’, is not acceptable: *wahinonhsóhare’. A dative applicative suffix is necessary, as in (3) above. Though there is a strong correlation between the use of these constructions and inalienability, their primary function is to specify directness of effect. If someone cuts my foot, he cuts me directly. When the woman struck the elk’s head, she struck the elk directly. Direct affectedness and inalienability usually go hand in hand: action on an inalienable possession, such as a foot, head, or face, usually affects the possessor more directly than action on an alienable possession such as a house or car. But where the two do not coincide, the choice of clausal structure reflects the directness of effect rather than inalienability. In Lakhota, hair is categorized as an inalienable possession by the noun morphology: ma-phéhi˛ ‘my hair’ (not *mithá-phehi˛). But if I cut someone’s hair (as in example (1) repeated below as (32)), my action is expressed as affecting him indirectly, with a verb containing the indirect prefix ki-, despite the grammatical inalienability of the noun: (32) Lakhota indirect affectedness with inalienable possession: Stan Redbird, speaker phehí˛ wécˇašla phehi˛ wa-ki-ka-šla hair 1sg.ag-indirect-cause.with.instrument-be.bald ‘I cut his hair’
In Mohawk, one’s car is classified by the nominal morphology as alienable: akê:sere ‘my vehicle’. But in (33) no dative appears. The loan was made directly to the son: (33) Mohawk direct affectedness with alienable possession: K. Lazore, speaker aonsaho’seréhtani’ aon-sa-ho-’sereht-ani-’ opt-rep-masc.ag/masc.pat-car-lend-prf ‘He (the father) would lend him (the son) the car again’
Further evidence of the fact that the direct clausal construction does not depend on inalienability can be seen in the appearance of the same noun in both kinds of constructions. The Mohawk noun ahkwénnia’ ‘harness’ is
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categorized by the noun morphology as alienable. In (34a) it appears in a nominal with an alienable possessive pronominal prefix. In (34b) it appears incorporated in a direct-effect clausal construction. The difference in structure does not reflect a difference in alienability, but rather a difference in affectedness. Strapping the horses’ harness on the fence has little effect on the horses, but removing their harness, that is, unharnessing them, affects them directly: (34) Mohawk: Tekaronhiokon Jacobs, speaker a. Aten’enhrà:ke wahrotárhoke’ ne aten’enhr-a’-ke wa-hra-otarhok-e’ ne fence-ns-loc factual-masc.agt-strap-prf the on the fence he strapped it the aonahkwénnia’ aon-ahkwennia’ zoic.pl.alien.poss-harness their harness ‘He strapped their harness on the fence’ b. Wahshakohkwenniahrá:ko’ ne wa-hshako-ahkwennia-hra-ko-’ ne factual-masc.agt/masc.pl.pat-harness-set-rev-prf the he harness-removed them the akohsá:tens ako-hsaten-s the indef.pat-carry-imprf horses ‘He removed the horses’ harness’
The direct-effect construction, like the indirect-effect construction, does not actually specify possession. The sentence ‘she water-gave them’ in (35) has the same structure as ‘I face-washed him’ in (31), but there is no implication that the water belonged to the guests. The idea that the face belonged to the boy in (31) but that the water did not belong to the guests in (35) is a matter of inference from general knowledge of the world:
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(35) Mohawk clausal construction: Warisose Kaierithon wahonwatihné:kanonte’ ohné:kanos wa-honwati-hnek-nont-’ o-hnek-anos factual-fem.ag/3pl.pat-liquid-feed-prf neut-liquid-be.cool.stative she liquid-gave them water ‘She gave them a drink of water’
Inalienability and direct affectedness thus often cooccur for logical reasons, since events affecting inalienable possessions usually affect the owner more directly than those affecting alienable possessions, but the correlation is circumstantial. It is important to note that the selection and interpretation of the direct-effect and indirect-effect clausal constructions depends not only on the way a speaker wishes to present a situation, but also on the lexical inventory of the language. The dative markers, reflexive, and noun incorporation are all word-formation devices, used to create lexical items. Speakers tend most often to select existing lexical items as they speak, though they may of course create neologisms on occasion. Individual lexical items often develop certain associations with circumstances surrounding their usual uses, a fact which colors their interpretation.
. Partitivity The notion of partitivity, or the part–whole relation, appears to play a role in the direct-affect clausal construction. If a man cuts my foot, as in the Lakhota example in (29), he affects me directly because he is cutting a part of me: when he cuts my foot he cuts me. If a woman hits an elk on the head as in the Kathlamet example in (30), she affects the elk directly because the head is part of the elk: when she strikes the head she strikes the elk. Other examples in Section 3 show, however, that while the feature of partitivity can be related to direct affectedness as a contributing factor, it is not the primary feature signalled by the construction. When the father lent the son a car in the Mohawk example in (33), he did not lend the son a part of himself. When the farmer unharnessed his horses in (34), he did not remove a part of them. When the woman gave her guests water in (35), she did not give them a part of themselves. The direct-effect clausal constructions were used nevertheless, because the son, horses, and guests were portrayed as directly affected.
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. Animacy As noted by Bally in 1926 and others since, the participants interpreted as possessors in the clausal constructions are typically animate. It will be recalled that French speakers easily say On lui a coupé la jambe (‘They cut off her leg’) about a person but not about a table (even though the table is grammatically feminine in French). The same close association can be seen in both kinds of clausal constructions examined here. Those interpreted as possessors, actually those portrayed as indirectly or directly affected, are usually animate. But the animacy is not specified by the construction. It is a consequence of the fact that the effect of events and states on animates, that is, sentient beings, is often portrayed as noteworthy, but their effect on inanimate objects seldom is. An example from Kathlamet shows that inanimates are not categorically excluded from the construction. To say ‘The water began to boil’, the speaker cast the water in the dative case, as the entity most significantly affected by the event. The overlap in identity between the (dative) water and its own (absolutive) froth was indicated by the reflexive prefix -x(a)-: (36) Kathlamet inanimate: Boas 1901: 239.5 cited in Hymes 1955: 237 íł-ałmłm nixatlúxuax i-ła-łmłm n-i-xa-t-l-ú-xu-ax masc-pl.poss-foam non.imm-masc.abs-rfl-pl.dat-to-on-do-imprf its foam it (its own foam) was on it (the water) łáx i łcúqua łáx i ł-cuqua that masc-water that water ‘The water became foamy’ = ‘The water began to boil’
At the same time, animacy is not sufficient to prompt the choice of the clausal construction. The possessor of the footprints in (37) was animate, but the construction was not used. The person was not affected by the discovery of his tracks: (37) Kathlamet animacy without affectedness: Boas 1901: 162: 13 łkuałílx insktúskam ł-kuałilx i-n-sk-t-u-sk-am neut-person imm-1erg.pl-3pl.abs-x-find-cmpl some person we found them
The difference a category makes
tłáx atk t-ła-x atk 3pl-neut.possessor-track someone’s footprints ‘We found the footprints of a person’
. Topicality The frequent association between the use of clausal constructions and the topicality of possessors in Romanian was noted by Manoliu-Manea (1996). A similar correlation can be seen in Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk. The reason behind the correlation is easy to understand in light of the function and form of the constructions. The primary function of the clausal constructions in all of the languages is to portray significant affectedness. Speakers show more interest in the affectedness of human or personified participants who are central to a discussion than of peripheral characters or inanimate objects. Significantly-affected participants are cast as grammatical core arguments, a status generally reserved for topical arguments. Though the features of animacy and humanness are typical of topical participants, they are not sufficient to render the participants topicworthy. In the sentence in (38), those affected by blood-drinking were human beings, but the clausal construction was not used: (38) Kathlamet lack of topicality: Boas 1901: 13.6 Tílx am łáqauwulqt t-ilx am ł-qa-uwulqt pl-person neut-indef.poss-blood people their blood ancˇkłuqumsta. a-n-c-k-ł-u-qumst-a fut-1-pl-erg-neut.abs-away-drink-prf-fut we shall drink it ‘We shall drink the blood of people’
The people were not expressed as core arguments because they were not topicworthy in this context. The speakers were fleas, going out to seek sustenance. The people served only to characterize the kind of blood they were after.
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.
Extension of grammatical patterns
The characteristics of the clausal constructions seen so far are easily understood in terms of the functions of their source structures. They specify the significant affectedness of participants by casting them as core arguments: as absolutives, patients, or datives. The feature of possession is a secondary inference from contexts in which they are used. But the origins of grammatical constructions do not necessarily constrain their functions forever. Developments in the Siouan languages show how functions may evolve. It will be recalled that Lakhota, like other Siouan languages, contains a dative prefix ki- that marks indirectness of effect. At a certain point in the development of the family, a benefactive prefix kicˇi- was formed from reduplication of the dative prefix with palatalization of the second k to cˇ induced by the preceding i (Robert Rankin p.c. 1998). The form of the resulting prefix shows extensive phonological alternation across contexts. It specifies that an action was done on behalf of another individual, in his or her place: (39) Lakhota dative and benefactive markers: Stan Redbird, speaker lowa˛´ ‘sing’ ma-kí-lowa˛ ‘sing to me’ (Dative) m-íci-lowa˛ ‘sing for me, on my behalf, in my place’ (Benefactive) (40) Lakhota benefactive clause: Stan Redbird, speaker ité wécˇiyužáža ité wa-kicˇi-yu-žaža face 1ag-benefactive-by.pulling-wash face I washed for (him) ‘I washed his face for him’
As in Mohawk, a possessive relationship is often inferred between the object and beneficiary of an action. If I washed a face and the washing benefitted some person, a likely inference is that the face belonged to that person. The dative and the benefactive constructions have now developed distinct, conventionalized meanings, as described by Boas and Deloria: the form ki- [dative] implies action referring to an object belonging to a person different from the subject but without sanction or permission of the owner, for instance, “I take his own without his permission’’, in other words, an action that reflects in some way upon his interest but performed on the initiative of the subject. The form kicˇi- [benefactive] expresses an action done with permission of
The difference a category makes
the owner of an object, an action done on his initiative or in his place. (Boas and Deloria 1941: 86)
The development of another verbal prefix in the Siouan languages shows that original inferences may be reinterpreted as core meaning. A second prefix has developed from reduplication of the dative ki-, a reflexive possessive prefix kik- ‘one’s own’ that marks actions directed at one’s own possessions. It has followed a separate course of development from the benefactive, showing no palatalization and distinct morphophonemic behavior: (41) Reflexive possessives: Martha St. John, Stan Redbird, speakers a. napsúkaza wakpáhu˛ napsukaza wa-kik-pa-hu˛ finger 1ag-own-by.drawing-cut finger I cut own ‘I cut my finger (with a knife)’ (Santee dialect) b. hayápi waglžaža ha-yá-pi wa-ki-yu-žaža skin-cover-nomr 1ag-own-by.pulling-wash clothing I washed own ‘I washed my clothes’
As can be seen by comparing (41a) and (41b), the construction does not distinguish alienability. This construction now specifies possession directly rather than simply implying it, as is confirmed by certain items that are grammatically unpossessible in Lakhota. They consist primarily of objects that cannot be considered personal property, such as rocks, trees, and food. Nouns for them never appear with possessive prefixes. They also never appear with verbs containing the reflexive possessive prefix. Instead, the basic reflexive construction is used, which otherwise marks coreference between the agent and patient or dative. The reflexive appears in its primary function in (42a) and with an unpossessible object in (42b): (42) Lakhota reflexive -iˇc’ i-: Stan Redbird, speaker, Boas and Deloria 1941: 103,90 a. miˇc’ íktekte m-iˇc’ i-kte=kte 1sg.pat-refl-kill=irr ‘I’m going to kill myself’
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b. wamíc˛ˇ ižúžu wa-m-ic˛ˇ i-žužu by.sawing-1sg.pat-refl-butcher ‘I slaughtered buffalo for myself ’ for ‘I slaughtered my buffalo’
. Conclusion Verbal affixes in three genetically and geographically distinct languages of North America, Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk, have sometimes been identified as possessive markers, in part because they are often translated as such. The location of the markers in verbs is surprising, since attributive possession is normally marked in nouns or noun phrases. Though they appear in verbs, the affixes are actually markers of clauselevel constructions. In all three of the languages, the core arguments of clauses are represented by pronominal prefixes in verbs, so that every verb can constitute a full grammatical sentence in its own right. The Lakhota, Kathlamet, and Mohawk constructions are akin to clausal structures in other languages that have been said to specify inalienability. A closer examination of the uses of the constructions shows that their primary function is actually not to specify possession or even inalienability, but the significant affectedness of a participant. Possession, inalienability, and features associated with inalienability such as partitivity and animacy, may be inferred from contexts in which the constructions are used, but they are not specified directly by the constructions themselves. The functions and distributions of the clausal constructions reflect their structural origins. In each, a participant is cast as a core argument, either a grammatical patient/absolutive or a dative/beneficiary. Status as a patient or absolutive indicates that the individual is directly affected by the event or state, while status as a dative or beneficiary indicates that the effect is indirect. Affectedness can suggest the possibility of possession, since possessors are often affected by situations involving their possessions. Direct affectedness can suggest inalienable possession, and indirect affectedness alienable possession, since situations involving inalienable possessions usually affect their possessors more directly than those involving alienable possessions. Partitivity and animacy may be suggested as well. Situations involving a part of a participant usually affect that participant directly. The effect of situations on sentient
The difference a category makes
beings is typically portrayed by speakers as more significant than that on inanimate objects. In the end, the forms reflect their functions.
Acknowledgements I am grateful to the following speakers who have generously shared their expertise on their languages: Leatrice Beauvais (Mohawk), Warisose Kaierithon Horne (Mohawk), Kaia’titahkhe’ Annette Jacobs (Mohawk), Tekaronhiokon Frank Jacobs (Mohawk), Karihwenhawe’ Dorothy Lazore (Mohawk), Niioronhia’a Mae Montour (Mohawk), Skawennati Montour (Mohawk), Kanerahtenhawi Hilda Nicholas (Mohawk), Stanley Redbird (Lakhota), Martha St. John (Santee Dakota), Rokwaho Dan Thompson (Mohawk).
Abbreviations abs ag BD cmpl cont D dat dist du emph erg fem fut gen imm imprf indef instr irr loc
absolutive agent Boas and Deloria 1942 completive continuative Deloria 1939 dative distributive dual emphatic ergative feminine future genitive immediate tense imperfective indefinite instrumental irrealis locative
masc neg neut nomr ns opt pat pl poss prf purp rdp refl rev rfl rep sg transloc x
masculine negative neuter nominalizer noun suffix optative patient plural posssessive perfective purposive reduplication reflexive reversive reflexive repetitive singular translocative unidentified
References Baker, M. 1999. “Conditions on external possession in Mohawk: incorporation, argument structure, and aspect’’. In External Possession, D. Payne and I. Barsh (eds), 293–324. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.
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Bally, C. 1926. “L’expression des idées de sphère personnelle et de solidarité dans les langues indo-européennes’’. In Festschrift Louis Gauchat, F. Fankhauser and J. Jud (eds), 68–78. Aarau: Sauerländer. 68–78. English translation by Christine Béal and Hilary Chappell as “The expression of concepts of the personal domain and indivisibility in Indo-European languages’’ in H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 31–61. Blake, B. 1984. “Problems of possessor ascension: some Australian examples’’. Linguistics 22: 437–453. Blake, B. 1990. Relational grammar. London: Routledge. Boas, F. 1901. Kathlamet texts. Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 26. Washington. Boas, F. and Deloria, E. 1941. Dakota grammar. National Academy of Sciences Memoir 32. Chappell, H. and McGregor, W. (eds). 1996. The grammar of inalienability: a typological perspective on body part terms and the part–whole relation. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Chappell, H. and McGregor, W. (1996a). “Introduction’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 1–30. Heine, B. 1997. Possession: cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and inalienable possession’’. In Possessive Structures in Danish [KLIMT 3], I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Copenhagen Business School. Hymes, D. 1955. The language of the Kathlamet Chinook. Ph.D. dissertation, University of Indiana, Bloomington. Manoliu-Manea, M. 1996. “Inalienability and topicality in Romanian: pragma-semantics of syntax’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 711–743. Mithun, M. 1984. “The evolution of noun incorporation’’. Language 60: 847–894. Mithun, M. 1991. “Active/agentive case marking and its motivations’’. Language 67: 510–546. Mithun, M. 1996. “Multiple reflections of inalienability in Mohawk’’. In H. Chappell and W. McGregor (eds), 633–649. Seiler, H. 1983. Possession as an operational dimension of language. Tübingen: Gunter Narr.
Chapter 16
Ways of explaining possession Bernd Heine
.
Introduction
The papers presented in this volume offer a wealth of insights into what the notion “possession’’ is about, and they show the potential that linguistics has for describing and understanding this notion, which is essentially nonlinguistic in nature. The analysis of possessive constructions raises a number of more general questions, such as the following: i.
How, or to what extent, can the linguistic study of possession contribute to our extra-linguistic knowlege or understanding of this concept? For example, what do linguistic expressions of possession tell us about psychological, legal, or historical aspects of possession? ii. Most of the chapters in this book, like most other contributions on possessive constructions, take language structure, be that meaning or form, or both, as their starting point to generalize on the structure of possession. Why not start from the opposite end and examine how human behavior influences the linguistic form possession takes? For example, how do such concepts as theft, inheritance, donation, or acquisition affect the way possession is encoded linguistically? iii. To what extent is it possible to study possessive constructions as a purely linguistic phenomenon? iv. How, or to what extent, is the linguistics of possession of a more general concern to linguistic theory? For example, what do observations on possessive constructions tell us about the relation between form and meaning, considering e.g. the fact that quite commonly there is no exact one-to-one relationship between the two? v. How to explain why possession is encoded linguistically the way it is? As the contributions to this volume suggest, each of the authors would answer these questions somehow in a different way. We are still far away from being
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able to rely on a more widely accepted framework for describing and understanding what “possession’’ is about. Still, it would seem that there are a few general observations that appear to hold across languages, such as the following: a. Possession is a cross-culturally fairly stable concept; in all languages so far studied there are conventionalized means of encoding possession. Following Seiler (1983: 2–4) one may define possession as a bio-cultural domain involving a relationship between a prototypically human possessor, in most cases presented as the topic, and the possessee (or possessum or possessed), normally the comment. b. There is no universal linguistic structure common to all possessive constructions. c. Possessive constructions are likely to also express concepts other than possessive ones. d. Possessive concepts can be expressed by linguistic forms that are not typically associated with the domain of possession. e. That there is not necessarily a one-to-one-correspondence between possessive form and possessive meaning is neither unusual nor abnormal, but it is in need of explanation. Accordingly, we may expect e.g. that in any given language there are conventionalized forms to express predications such as ‘I have a dog’. At the same time, however, the term “possession’’ refers to a number of different structures and contents. First, there is a distinction between predicative possession (I have a dog) and attributive possession (my dog). The latter differs from the former primarily in that it (a) presents typically presupposed rather than asserted information, (b) involves object-like rather than event-like contents, and (c) has phrasal rather than clausal syntax (see the Introduction). Second, there is also a distinction between belong-constructions (The dog belongs to me or The dog is mine) and have-constructions (I have a dog). The main, though not the only, difference between these two is that in the former construction the possessee is definite while in the latter construction it is typically indefinite (cf. Seiler 1983). Third, the term possession includes a range of different meanings (or notions, as I will put it here). Perhaps the most salient ones are the following (the English examples added in parentheses illustrate the respective notions): • Physical possession (I want to fill in this form; do you have a pen?). • Temporary possession (I have a car that I use to go to the office but it belongs to Judy).
Ways of explaining possession
• • • •
Permanent possession (Judy has a car but I use it all the time). Inalienable possession (I have blue eyes). Abstract possession (He has no time/no mercy). Inanimate possession (My study has three windows).
One may wonder whether e.g. “physical possession’’ or “inanimate possession’’ should be called “possessive’’. I do not wish to discuss this issue here (see Heine 1997a for details; see also the Introduction), but as long as a linguistic construction expressing either or both of these is also used for other possessive notions in addition, I will not hesitate to call it a “possessive construction’’. These are probably the main distinctions made in the cross-linguistic encoding of possession. Thus, most languages appear to have separate constructions for predicative and attributive possession, and for belong-constructions and have-constructions. We will also expect that belong-constructions are likely to be confined to the expression of permanent possession while have-constructions and attributive possession will cover several, or even all, of the possessive notions distinguished above, perhaps in addition to various other meanings (Heine 1997a). My concern in this chapter is with question (v) raised above, namely: How to explain why possession is encoded in language or languages the way it is? I will be concerned with a couple of peculiar structures and how they can be accounted for. Accordingly, Section 2 deals with the notion “explanation’’ as it is understood here, in Section 3 some generalizations on the rise of possessive constructions are presented, and the remainder of the chapter is devoted to some problems associated with the expression of possession in Kxoe, a Khoisan language of southwestern Africa. The framework used is grammaticalization theory.
. On explanation In the course of this book, a number of explanatory approaches have emerged. The kind of explanations I am concerned with here have the following properties (see Heine 1994: 257): a. They are multi-causal rather than mono-causal. While I will deal with only one causal parameter, I am aware that there are various other parameters that also have to be taken into account. Language contact constitutes one
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such parameter. b. They are probabilistic rather than deductive-nomological. c. They are context-dependent rather than context-free. d. They are based on induction (or abduction) rather than on deduction. When using such a framework, it goes without saying that one may express doubt as to whether one is really justified to talk of “explanation’’ (cf. Lass 1980). For example, according to what is said to be one of the first principles of empirical science, every fact has one and only one explanation (cf. Sanders 1974: 18). I would argue that the phenomena that one is commonly confronted with in linguistics are such that looking for mono-causal explanations would be either a sterile or a futile exercise. It is also widely held that explanation must rely on laws. What constitutes a “law’’ in linguistics is hard to establish; many will say that there are at best “rules’’. Some linguists have therefore proposed to baptize laws rules and to deal with exceptions to rules e.g. in the following way: [. . .] to say that something is irregular — for example, that men as a plural of man is irregular — is merely to say that there is one statement (the “regular’’ rule) universally quantified over the set of all Q except E (e.g. all plural nouns except those meaning ‘men’) and another statement (the “irregular’’ rule) universally quantified over the set E (e.g. all plural nouns meaning ‘men’). An irregular rule is thus simply a law whose domain is complementary to and more specific than that of its corresponding regular rule. (Sanders 1974: 8)
This is not the procedure adopted here. I will not be concerned with laws or rules but with patterns of language use. Whether, or to what extent, these patterns constitute “laws’’ or “rules’’ is immaterial to the way the notion “explanation’’ is applied here. As used here, this notion has to do with viewing phenomena in a wider context, with understanding the facts under scrutiny, first, with reference to a wider range of phenomena and, second, with reference to alternative perspectives of understanding. Furthermore, my concern will be primarily with external rather than with internal explanation. This means in particular that I argue that in order to explain the linguistic structure of possession, one needs to look at phenomena that are, first, extra-linguistic and, second, relate to other phenomena that have nothing to do with possession. The approach used here, however, also has some bearing on language-internal issues and, accordingly, is also material to achieving language-internal explanation. I will return to the latter issue in the second part of my presentation (Sections 5 and 6).
Ways of explaining possession
A number of attempts have been made to explain the structure of possessive categories. Explanatory accounts have centered mostly around the question: How can the fact be accounted for that categories A and B to be found in a given language share some systematic regularity? The answer given is usually of any of the following kinds: a. A is included in (or is derived from, or is a special case of) B and, accordingly, the structure of A can be explained with reference to the more inclusive category B (or vice versa). b. Both A and B are included in some overarching category C and their common property or properties can be explained with reference to C. With regard to the ontological or other status of these categories, the following alternatives were among the ones most frequently considered: c. While A is possessive in nature, B is not, or vice versa. d. Both A and B are possessive while C is not. Combining these four options, we get seven basic alternatives for explanation. These alternatives are listed in (1). (1) Kinds of explanation for possession (where ((A)B) = “A is included in B’’, ((A, B) C) = “A and B are both included in C’’, etc.) i. ((poss) poss) ii. ((poss) non-poss) iii. ((non-poss) poss) iv. ((poss, poss) non-poss) v. ((poss, non-poss) poss) vi. ((poss, non-poss) non-poss) vii. ((non-poss, non-poss) poss)
Not all of these alternatives have been exploited in treatments of possession, but at least four of them commonly have, namely i, ii, iv, and vi.1 I will say that explanations in terms of i are internal while explanations in terms of ii, iv, or vi are external since they invoke categories that are non-possessive in nature. Examples for i can be found abundantly. A particularly common one concerns the relationship between attributive and predicative possession: It has been claimed, especially but not only by students of generative paradigms, that predicative possession is the more inclusive category, that is, attributive
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possession is included in, or derived from it or, as Baron (1997: 117) puts it, attributive possession is a “reduced’’ form of predicative possession (=“haveclauses’’ in her terminology). Examples of ii are also easy to come by. Perhaps the most popular one is that used by adherents of the localism paradigm according to which possession is included in location (see Heine 1997a). An example of vi can be found in Herslund (1997). Herslund notes that the notions of inalienable possession and partitivity have a number of properties in common and he concludes that the former is a special case of the latter — more specifically, that inalienability is an extreme case of what he calls “organic partitivity’’. Explanation as proposed here relates to iv (and vi), that is, I am concerned with external explanations, but the kind of explanation proposed here differs from most accounts represented in this volume, as well as from most previous accounts, in that it is diachronic in nature. Consequently, when I say that A is derived from B, or A and B are both derived from C, then the term “derivation’’ stands for “diachronic derivation’’ rather than for some abstract synchronic mechanism.
. Sources for possessive constructions My concern here is exclusively with expressions for predicative possession, and here again with have-constructions. While a number of studies have demonstrated that possession shares various structural similarities with such domains as location, experience and existence (see the Introduction to this volume), the evolution of have-constructions reveals a more complex situation. A crosslinguistic study of these constructions suggests that have-constructions are almost invariably derived from any of the source schemas listed in (2). (2) A formulaic description of schemas used as sources for possession Formula Source schema X takes Y Action Y is located at X Location Y exists for/to X Goal X’s Y exists Genitive X is with Y Companion Schema As for X, Y exists Topic Schema
Ways of explaining possession
The schemas listed in (2) are also essentially the ones that are used for attributive possession. Note, however, that predicative possession and attributive possession should be strictly kept apart, especially for the following reasons (Heine 1997a; see also the Introduction to this volume): a. While their conceptual sources are similar, they are not identical. For example, there is no equivalent for the Action Schema in attributive possession. b. Almost invariably, constructions for attibutive possession develop independently from those for predicative possession, and vice versa. This applies even in those relatively rare cases where the same source schema is used for both kinds of possession in one and the same language. One may wonder why possession should be derived from other concepts at all, that is, from concepts relating to what one does (Action), where one is located (Location), who one is accompanied by (Companion), etc. There is an obvious answer: Possession is a fairly abstract concept; a stolen apple is hard to distinguish from one that is not (Miller and Johnson-Laird 1976). It is much easier to describe where a given item is, what happens to it, or who it is accompanied by, e.g. by using body movements. Thus, action, location, accompaniment, etc. provide convenient structural templates to express possession: An item that I have taken or got, that is habitually located where I am, or that I am regularly accompanied by may in certain situations be interpreted as belonging to me. In the course of time, a linguistic expression defining an action, a location, or a companion may then become conventionalized as a possessive expression. Each of the schemas listed in (2) is associated with a particular structure of morphosyntactic encoding. The kinds of associations that are normally to be expected are presented in (3) (see Heine 1997a). (3) Typical participant encoding in ‘have’-constructions according to source schema Source schema Possessor Possessee Action Subject Object Location Locative complement Subject Goal Dative adjunct Subject Genitive Genitive modifier Subject Companion Subject Comitative adjunct Topic Theme, subject Subject
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These schemas and their morphosyntactic correlates are illustrated in (4). Examples are confined to African languages; for more examples, see Heine (1997a). For example, we find that in (4a), which is an instance of the Action Schema, the possessor is encoded as the clausal subject and the possessee as the clausal object. (4) Examples of have-constructions (see Heine 1997a) a. Waata (East Cushitic, Afro-Asiatic) ani mín qaw-a Action I house seize ‘I have a house’ (Lit.: ‘I seize a house’) b. Manding (Mande, Niger-Congo) wari bε à fε` Location money be.at his place ‘He has money (i.e. he is rich)’ (Lit.: ‘There is money at his place’) c. Ik (Kuliak, Nilo-Saharan) Goal iá hoa n´ci-ke exist house me-dat ‘I have a house’ (Lit.: ‘There is a house to/for me’) d. Gabu (Ubangi, Niger-Congo) aduturu dii lɔ mbi Genitive dog my is there ‘I have a dog’ (Lit.: ‘My dog exists’) e. Swahili (Bantu, Niger-Congo) Hadija a-ta-kuwa na paka Companion Hadija 3:sg-fut-be com cat ‘Hadija will have a cat’ (Lit.: ‘Hadija will be with a cat’) f. Lango (Western Nilotic, Nilo-Saharan) òkélò gwók’kε´ rε´ ‘ pé Topic Okelo dog.his 3.neg.exist ‘Okelo doesn’t have a dog’ (Lit.: ‘(As for) Okelo, his dog doesn’t exist’)
To conclude, the motivation for drawing on non-possessive expressions to develop possessive ones can be said to lie in the fact that the former are more concrete, easier to define and to refer to in linguistic discourse. Accordingly, the Waata construction illustrated in (4a) can be said to be historically derived from an action proposition (the Action Schema), the Manding construction in (4b) from a locative construction or, as I will say here, from the Location
Ways of explaining possession
Schema, the Ik construction in (4c), where the possessor is presented as a dative participant, from the Goal Schema, the Gabu construction in (4d) from an existential proposition (the Genitive Schema), while the Swahili construction in (4e) has a comitative form as its source, with the possessee apppearing as a kind of companion (Companion Schema), and the Lango construction (4f) from an existential one (like (4d)), with the possessor being presented as a topic or theme (the Topic Schema). . Possession in Kxoe The situation summarized in Section 3 suggests that there are systematic correlations between the schematic-conceptual structures listed in (2) and the morphosyntactic patterns used for encoding these structures (cf. (3)). Things become more complicated once one is concerned with the situation to be found in a given language. Complications are likely to be the result of the specific conditions obtaining in that language and, hence, can be explained with reference to these conditions. What this may mean is now demonstrated by looking in more detail at the structure of predicative possession in one particular language. This language is Kxoe, a Central Khoisan (=Khoe) language spoken by some 8,000 people in the western part of the Caprivi strip in northeast Namibia as well as in adjacent areas of Angola and Botswana (see Brenzinger 1997; Vossen 1997). Like all other Khoe languages, Kxoe has an SOV basic order, that is, the verb normally stands at the end of the clause, and postpositions (rather than prepositions) are used. Another typological feature of the language is a gender system, the genders distinguished being masculine (m), feminine (f), and common (c), and a threefold number system: singular (sg), dual (du), and plural (pl). Gender and number are expressed by a paradigm of portmanteau morphemes, referred to as pgn-markers (persongender-number markers).2 Of the six source schemas used to encode have-constructions, three are found in Kxoe. Example (5) is an instance of the Action Schema, (6) of the Location Schema, and (7) of the Companion Schema.3 (5)
ti ngúú ‘à wo 1sg house obj get ‘I have a house’
Action
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(6) a.
ti ki ¦ám ` ¦¦góáà n= ¦ uin or tìín 1sg loc two stone sit stand ‘I have two stones’ b. xàm ´ ki ¦ám ´ =xéí ¦ n=uin ¦ or tìín 3:m:sg loc two eye sit stand ‘He has two eyes’ c. xàn´ ki tcéka uu ¦¦òè or tìín 3c:pl loc good country lie stand ‘They have a nice country’ d. áàm ki xóm ` tìín but not : n=uin, ¦ *¦¦òè 3:m:sg loc strength stand ‘He is strong’
(7)
tí ¦ámbara ¦xòà tìín or tí ¦xòà ¦ámbara tìín 1sg hunger with stand 1sg with hunger stand ‘I am hungry’ ‘I am hungry’
Location
Companion
. The Location schema My interest here is exclusively with the Location Schema, illustrated in (6), considered by many to constitute the one most closely related to possession (see the Introduction). We are dealing in fact with a canonical instance of this schema, as is suggested by the following facts: (a) The subject is reserved for the possessee (possessum, possessed); (b) the possessor is encoded as a locative complement; (c) there is a preference to place the locative before the subject participant. There are, however, a few peculiarities associated with the use of this schema in Kxoe. One peculiarity concerns the use of the locative copula (‘be at’). As the examples in (6) show, there appears to be a clause-final particle acting as a locative copula (‘be at’), but there is some variation in the use of this particle: The form it takes is either n= ¦ uin or tìín in (6a) and (6b), but either ¦¦òè or tìín in (6c), while in (6d) only tìín can be used. Another characteristic of the Location Schema in Kxoe is a conceptual distinction between what I propose to call proximal vs. distal possession. This distinction is expressed by the locative (loc) markers ki or ‘o on the one hand, and kà or ‘okà on the other: whenever the former markers are used, then the possessee is close to the deictic center while the use of the latter markers
Ways of explaining possession
entails that the possessee is at some distance from the deictic center, typically out of sight. Thus, in (8a), the possessee ¦óán ‘child’ is assumed to be close to where the utterance is made, while in (8b) the possessee is at some distance from that deictic center. A different situation obtains in (8c): Whenever the constituent to the left of the locative marker is a third-person, rather than a first- or second-person participant, like Caátco-m in (8c), then it is not the possessee but the possessor that is at some distance from the deictic center. Thus, distal possession involves the possessee in the case of “participants’’ (first or second person) but the possessor in the case of “non-participants’’ (third person). (8) a.
tí ki ¦ám ` ¦óán tìín 1sg loc two child stand ‘I have two children (they are nearby)’ b. tí okà ¦ám ` ¦óán tìín 1sg loc two child stand ‘I have two children (they are not nearby)’ c. Caátco-m okà ¦ám ` ¦óán tìín Caatco-3m:sg loc two child stand ‘Caatco has two children (he is not nearby)’
The observations made above raise the following questions in particular: (a) Why is there a peculiar type of variation in the use of locative copulas in (6)? (b) Why can the copulas n= ¦ uin and //òè be optionally replaced by tìín in (6a), (6b), and (6c), respectively? (c) Why is tìín in certain uses, like (6d), the only particle to be used? (d) Why are there two types of possession, proximal and distal? I will now try two answer these questions by using the framework of grammaticalization theory as a model. Kxoe has a system of postural markers, according to which nouns are inherently associated with one or more of the markers presented in (9). (9) Postural markers tìín stand n= ¦ ùín sit ¦¦òé lie
Human beings, to some extent animals as well, can occur with all three
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markers, as exemplified in (10). Whenever the stand-marker is used, the participant preceding the marker is perceived as being in an upright position, while the sit- and lie-markers imply a participant in a sitting or lying position, respectively. (10) Postural markers on human nouns a. tí-ì dàmàcí ‘à tìín tí ‘à múùn-à-tè 1sg-poss sibling obl stand 1sg obj see-i-pres ‘My younger brother (standing) is watching me’ b. tí-ì dàmàcí ‘à n= ¦ uin tí ‘à múùn-à-tè 1sg-poss sibling obl sit 1sg obj see-i-pres ‘My younger brother (sitting) is watching me’ c. tí-ì dàmàcí ‘à ¦¦òè tí ‘à múùn-à-tè 1sg-poss sibling obl lie 1sg obj see-I-pres ‘My younger brother (lying) is watching me’
Inanimate nouns are typically associated with only one of the three markers.4 Thus, • trees, hands, fingers, thorns, houses, or all abstract nouns are typically associated with the stand-marker; • place names, stones, birds, or scorpions take the sit-marker, while • rivers, lakes, kinds of soil, or countries, take the lie-marker. But for most inanimate nouns it is also possible to use any of the other markers to convey specific shape distinctions. The noun yìí ‘tree’, for example, takes the stand-marker, as in (11a), but it may also take either of the other markers, as can be seen in (11b) and (11c). (11) Postural marker on inanimate nouns a. yìì ‘á tìín tí múùn-à-tè tree obj stand 1sg see-i-pres ‘I see a tree’ b. yìì ‘á n= ¦ ùín tí múùn-à-tè tree obj sit 1sg see-i-pres ‘I see a tree stump’ c. yìì ‘á ¦¦òé tí múùn-à-tè tree obj lie 1sg see-i-pres ‘I see a tree that is lying on the ground’
That in the possessive sentences in (6) all three markers are found can be
Ways of explaining possession
accounted for in the following way: both the postural markers and the locative copulas in (6) are historically verbs meaning ‘stand’, ‘sit’, and ‘lie’, respectively, and as such they are used as locative copulas in the Location Schema. Which of the three copulas is used depends on the semantics of the subject noun. Thus, since stones sit in Kxoe, the locative copula consists of the verb for ‘sit’ in (6a), while countries lie, hence, it is the verb for ‘lie’ that serves as the locative copula in (6c), and in (6d) the copula is stand since abstract nouns trigger the ‘stand’-verb (see above). But this does not answer the question of why all possessive sentences in (6) can optionally take the stand-marker without expressing any special semantic shades, unlike those in (11) where the postural markers are used for semantic differentiation. The reason is the following: While (6) has the structure of a locative construction, it exclusively serves the expression of possession and, as such, it is being conventionalized or “fossilized’’, in accordance with well-known principles of grammaticalization (Heine, Claudi and Hünnemeyer 1991). The principle relevant here is the following: The more strongly a given construction is grammaticalized (and, hence, conventionalized), the more it loses in paradigmatic variability, and the more it tends to become associated with one particular form only. What this means in the present example is that the paradigm of postural markers is more conventionalized (or fossilized) in possessive constructions than in other use patterns, with the effect that it tends to be reduced to one marker, viz. tìín, that is, the three markers are being reduced to one, which is the most “unmarked’’ one, namely the stand-marker. This means that the stand-marker has been generalized to all possessive uses of the Location Schema, even if the sit- and lie-markers have not yet been discarded. What this also means is that (6) presents an intermediate stage where the sit- and lie-markers of (9) may still be used if associated with the appropriate noun, but where the stand-marker tìín gradually emerges as the only one surviving. The result is optional variation in (6) in cases where the possessee is inanimate and is intrinsically associated with either sit or lie, but no variation (i.e. only stand can be used) in cases where the possessee is intrinsically associated with stand. We now remain with the question of why there are two types of possession in Kxoe: proximal and distal. There are two sets of locative postpositions: ki, ‘o, which express a location which is nearby, while kà and ‘okà refer to a location which is at some distance, typically out of sight, as exemplified in (12).
Bernd Heine
(12) a.
tí kúùn-à-tè ¦¦xóm ` ki 1sg go-i-pres river loc ‘I am going to the river (the river is nearby)’ b. tí kúùn-à-tè ¦¦xóm ` ‘okà 1sg go-i-pres river loc ‘I am going to the river (the river is far away)’
Thus, the distinction between proximal and distal possession, illustrated in (8), is due to the semantics of the postpositions employed: whenever either of the postpositions referring to a location nearby is used, the instance of the Location Schema denotes proximal possession, while the use of the two postpositions referring to distant items entails distal possession. This leaves us with a final question, namely why the distinction proximal vs. distal possession relates in some cases to the possessee (cf. 8a, b) and in others to the possessor (cf. 8c). Once again, the answer can be derived from the locative semantics of Kxoe postpositions: In (8c), the postpositional meaning has been retained, even if the construction is no longer a locative one; hence, the proximal vs. distal distinction relates to the noun phrase headed by the postpositional phrase, that is, to the possessor. In (8a) and (8b), there is a conflict concerning the location of participants: On the one hand, the hearer must assume that the speaker/possessor is at the deictic center, that is, at the place where the utterance is made. On the other hand, the use of ‘okà suggests that the possessee is at some distance from the deictic center. The way this conflict is resolved by Kxoe speakers apparently is that they imply that, at speech time, the possessee is at some distance from the possessor.
. Conclusions One might argue that the situations described here are exceptional, e.g. that more often than not, possessive constructions are not derived from nonpossessive ones. There are in fact examples from a number of languages where no motivation can be reconstructed, i.e. where no information on the historical source of possession is available. In such cases, either of the following stances can be taken: (a) We have to look for more information in order to achieve the appropriate reconstruction. (b) Since no motivation has been found, there is no motivation. On the basis of the evidence that has become available so far, (a) is the alternative to be adopted: In a number of cases, at
Ways of explaining possession
first glance seemingly no motivation has existed, yet after a more detailed analysis it turns out that one of the schemas listed in (2) can in fact be reconstructed. Accordingly, (b) would offer a less plausible solution; a conclusion like “I cannot see any motivation, hence, there is no motivation’’, runs the risk of turning ignorance into a scientific dogma. In the first part of this chapter I was reiterating what I have been trying to establish in earlier publications, namely that, in large measure, grammatical forms like the ones used for possessive constructions are not the result of language-internal factors, but are due to language-external forces, most of all to the desire to structure experience and to communicate successfully. It is not syntactic or phonological factors that can be held responsible for the fact that possessors appear as locative or dative complements in some languages, as subjects in others, and as genitival modifiers of subjects in still others; rather, it is the desire to convey the notion of possession to the hearer in the best way possible that induces people to seek out conceptual domains like action, location, and accompaniment as a means of expressing possessive concepts. Once an originally non-possessive expression is conventionalized, it tends to lose its association with its erstwhile contents and to be used for nothing else but for designating possessive concepts. Having established that there is an explanation for why the overall pattern of predicative possession discussed here has the kind of syntactic and morphological marking it has, we were left with a couple of additional questions where no external explanations offer themselves. There does not seem to be any meaningful way of explaining, for example, why there should be optional variation in the use of locative copulas in the case of certain possessee nouns in Kxoe but not of other nouns, or why Kxoe people should have invented a distinction between proximal and distal possession. The more a semantically motivated pattern is conventionalized, the more it becomes part of the conventions characterizing already existing grammatical modes. For example, a conceptual distinction between proximal and distal location has no intrinsic relevance for the grammar of possession in Kxoe. But it is part of the semantics of Kxoe locative postpositions, and once these postpositions happen to be part of a locative construction that, in certain uses, loses its association with space and comes to be associated primarily with the domain of possession, these postpositions may acquire a new grammatical significance: They give rise to a new pattern of expressing possessive relations for which there exists no precedent in the language. Language is the result of processes that have occurred in past decades,
Bernd Heine
centuries, and millennia, and diachronic explanations therefore constitute a powerful tool for explaining language structure. The question of why there is a certain grammatical category and why it has the structure it has, cannot be answered exhaustively if one is confined to the synchronic status of this category; rather, what is required in addition is some knowledge of the factors that were responsible for the creation of this category. A “comprehensive’’ explanation of the category must therefore remain unsatisfactory as long as one has not established whether, or to what extent, the structure one wants to explain is not the result of its history. On the basis of this observation, the following conclusions can be drawn: Quite a number of properties characterizing possessive constructions can be accounted for satisfactorily only by relating these constructions to certain phenomena that are non-possessive in nature. This claim need not be elaborated here any further since it surfaces in some way or other in several chapters of this book. A synchronic explanation on the basis of, say, syntactic or semantic facts may be redundant if it has already been shown that these facts can be explained exhaustively with reference to their history. On the basis of a purely synchronic (ahistorical) analysis it would be hard to account for the fact that the pattern of predicative possession in Kxoe discussed here is characterized by optional variation in the use of the clause-final particle, and it would be even harder to understand the exact nature of this variation. Similarly, one would probably not get far if one were to explain the presence of a distinction between proximal and distal possession without reference to the forces that gave rise to it. However, as this volume amply illustrates, there are always many different explanations for one and the same phenomenon. Which kind of explanation will emerge depends most of all on the questions one wants to answer, and in the present chapter we were concerned only with one particular set of questions.
Abbreviations c com dat f fut lie
common gender comitative dative feminine gender future postural marker for lying position
loc m neg obj obl pl
locative masculine gender negation marker object (case) oblique (case) plural
Ways of explaining possession
past poss pres sg sit
past tense possessive marker present tense singular postural marker for sitting position
stand postural marker for standing position 1, 2, 3 first, second, third person i ‘‘present tense’’ juncture ii ‘‘past tense’’ juncture
Notes . This does not mean that the other alternatives have not been considered in previous works on possession. It would seem, for example, that Taylor (1996) favors a position that comes close to (v), in that he views possession as offering itself as a paradigm for the essential character of the English construction of attributive possession, while nonpossessive uses of this construction would be deviations from this character. . The data presented below have been collected during a field research trip to Namibia in September/October, 1997. I wish to express my gratitude to the Kxoe people, especially to David Naude and Andrew Gashongo, for their understanding and cooperation. My thanks are also due to my colleagues Matthias Brenzinger, Christa Kilian-Hatz, Christa König, and Mathias Schladt for sharing with me the experience of field work on the Kxoe language. Finally, I feel deeptly indebted to the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (German Research Society) for having sponsored this research (as part of the work on the Sonderforschungsbereich 389). The following conventions are used in this chapter: High tones are marked with an accent aigu (e.g. á), low tones with an accent grave (à), while mid tones are unmarked (a). Like all other Khoisan languages, Kxoe is a click language, distinguishing a dental (¦), a palatal (= ¦ ), an alveolar (!), and a lateral click (¦¦). For more details on the language, see especially Köhler (1973, 1981, 1989, 1991). Abbreviations are found at the end of the chapter. . There is some variation in the tonal shape of the clause-final locative copula. In spite of the pioneering tonological work carried out by Köhler (e.g. 1973, 1981), the nature of context-related tonal variation is still largely unclear. . The association between noun and postural marker is on the whole not really “exotic’’, considering e.g. the fact that also in English or other European languages trees normally ‘stand’ while birds ‘sit’ and countries ‘lie’ somewhere.
References Baron, I. 1997. “Possession in noun phrases: A functional analysis.’’ In I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 115–30. Baron, I. and Herslund, M. (eds). 1997. Possessive structures in Danish [KLIMT 3]. Copenhagen Business School. Brenzinger, M. 1997. “Moving to survive: Kxoe communities in arid lands.’’ Khoisan Forum (Cologne) 2.
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Cohen, D. (ed.) 1974. Explaining linguistic phenomena. New York, London, Sydney, Toronto: John Wiley & Sons. Creissels, D. 1996. “Remarques sur l’émergence de verbes avoir au cours de l’histoire des langues.’’ La relation d’appartenance [Faits de langues 7], 149–158. Paris: Ophrys. Heine, B. 1994. “Grammaticalization as an explanatory parameter.’’ In W. Pagliuca (ed.), 255–287. Heine, B. 1997a. Possession: Cognitive sources, forces, and grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Heine, B. 1997b. Cognitive foundations of grammar. New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Heine, B. Claudi, U. and Hünnemeyer, F. 1991. Grammaticalization: A conceptual framework. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Herslund, M. 1997. “Partitivity and inalienable possession.’’ In I. Baron and M. Herslund (eds), 1–44. Köhler, O. 1973. Grundzüge der Grammatik der Kxoe-Sprache. Typescript, Cologne. Köhler, O. 1981. “Les langues khoisan.’’ In G. Manessy (ed.), 55–615. Köhler, O. 1989. Die Welt der Kxoé-Buschleute im südlichen Afrika: Eine Selbstdarstellung in ihrer eigenen Sprache. Volume I: Die Kxoé-Buschleute und ihre ethnische Umgebung. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer. Köhler, O. 1991. Die Welt der Kxoé-Buschleute im südlichen Afrika: Eine Selbstdarstellung in ihrer eigenen Sprache. Volume II: Grundlagen des Lebens. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer. Lass, R. 1980. On explaining language change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Manessy, G. (ed.) 1981. Les langues de l’Afrique subsaharienne. Paris: Editions du CNRS. Miller, G. A. and Johnson-Laird, P. N. 1976. Language and perception. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Pagliuca, W. (ed.). 1994. Perspectives on grammaticalization [Amsterdam Studies in the Theory and History of Linguistic Science, 109.] Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Sanders, G. A. 1974. “Introduction.’’ In D. Cohen (ed.), 1–20. Seiler, H. 1983. Possession as an operational dimension of language [Language Universals Series, 2]. Tübingen: Gunter Narr. Taylor, J. R. 1996. Possessives in English: An exploration in cognitive grammar. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Vossen, R. 1997. Die Khoe-Sprachen: Ein Beitrag zur Erforschung der Sprachgeschichte Afrikas [Quellen zur Khoisan-Forschung, 12]. Cologne: Rüdiger Köppe.
Index of languages
A Algonquian 250 Altaic 243, 249, 250, 254, 261 Amharic 249, 259 Arabic 247 Classical Arabic 31 Aramaic 221 Arawakan 217 Armenian 249 Arrernte 82 Athabascan 211 Attic 138 Austronesian 32, 206 B Baakandji 82 Balkan languages 16 Bantu 244, 318 Bardi 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 74, 79, 81, 82, 83 C Cahuilla 35, 36, 37, 212 Catalan 210, 215 Cayuga 212 Chadic 215, 263 Chinook 285 Cushitic 318
Finno-Ugric 255 French 5, 9, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 33, 34, 80, 81, 85, 97, 109, 121, 147, 149, 151, 152, 154, 155, 158, 163, 187, 188, 192, 193, 198, 217, 218, 219, 220, 228, 229, 230, 239, 247, 286, 304 G Gabu 318, 319 Georgian 215, 216 German 33, 34, 121, 188, 198, 199, 208, 248 Old High German 35 Germanic 97, 134, 207, 219, 244 Old Germanic 134 Gooniyandi 76, 82 Gothic 35, 219 Greek 16, 136, 137, 139, 142 Ancient Greek 32 Classical Greek 115, 117, 134, 138 Homeric Greek 138 Old Greek 140, 143 Guaraní 211 H Hausa 264 Hebrew 221 Hungarian 188, 206, 248
D Dalecarlian 207, 208, 215 Danish 1, 6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 14, 16, 17, 19, 21, 41, 43, 44, 45, 47, 48, 51, 52, 54, 57, 58, 59, 61, 64, 87, 97, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 123, 124, 125, 126, 129, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 139, 142, 143, 222 Old Danish 115, 141
I Icelandic 223 Ik 318, 319 Ilgar 211 Indo-European 9, 15, 80, 81, 83, 116, 117, 133, 143, 219, 223, 227, 251, 286 Iroquoian 212, 285, 286, 287, 298 Italian 18, 151, 205, 210
E English 3, 8, 10, 14, 22, 33, 34, 35, 38, 45, 52, 74, 80, 81, 97, 101, 110, 119, 121, 131, 133, 134, 149, 152, 174, 188, 198, 199, 206, 211, 213, 216, 217, 219, 223, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 250, 251, 253, 259, 260, 261, 312, 327
J Jabirrjabirr 67, 73, 79, 81, 83 Jaminjung 82 Jaru 82 Jawi 67, 71 Jawoñ 217 Jukun 67, 70, 71, 82
F Faroese 208 Finnish 255
K Karajarri 82 Kartvelian 215
Index of languages
Kathlamet 285, 288, 289, 290, 291, 292, 293, 294, 296, 297, 299, 300, 303, 304, 305, 308 Kera 215 Khoisan 21, 313, 319, 327 Klamath 217 Komi 247, 248, 249, 251, 252, 254, 255, 258, 259, 260, 262, 263 Kpelle 208 Kxoe 21, 313, 319, 320, 321, 323, 324, 325, 326, 327 L Lakhota 285, 288, 289, 292, 293, 295, 299, 300, 301, 303, 305, 306, 307, 308 Lango 318, 319 Latin 33, 34, 35, 134, 137, 222, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 281, 282 Lezgian 207 Lithuanian 35 M Mande 208, 318 Manding 318 Mangala 82 Mangarrayi 82 Mari 247, 248 Melanesian Pidgin English 38 Mohawk 17, 286, 288, 290, 291, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 303, 305, 306, 308 Montagnais 250 Mordvin 248 Murriny-Patha 82 N Nahuatl 212 Navajo 211 Ndjébbana 82 Ngumbarl 67, 71 Niger-Congo 208, 244, 318 Nilotic 318 Nimanburru 67, 83 Nordic 141 Nyikina 67, 68, 69, 73, 79, 82 Nyulnyul 67, 68, 69, 73, 77, 79, 83 Nyulnyulan 67, 68, 70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 80, 81, 82, 83 O Old Norse 1, 139 P Pama-Nyungan 82 Permic 249, 253, 257 Persian 32 Polish 207, 213, 215, 217 Polynesian 206, 216 Portuguese 18, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232,
233, 239, 240 Brazilian 228, 231, 232, 233, 239 R Romance 150, 227, 228, 244 Rumanian (Romanian) 16, 20, 22, 287, 305 Russian 12, 21, 22, 48, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 107, 108, 111, 112, 208, 216, 217, 219 S Samoan 206, 217 Scanic Middle Scanic 140, 141 Old Scanic 140, 141, 142 Scandinavian 205, 206, 222 Old Scandinavian 115, 117, 134, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143 Semitic 259 Seneca 212 Serbo-Croat 15, 16 Siouan 285, 287, 295, 298, 306, 307 Sirionó 211, 217, 218 Slave 217, 218 Slavic 32, 219 Old Slavic 35 Somali 215 Spanish 151, 169, 172, 223, 227, 228, 229, 230, 239 Swahili 318, 319 Swedish 16, 17, 202, 203, 206, 211, 215, 217, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 247, 251, 257, 259 T Tok Pisin 249 Tupí-Guaraní 211 Turkic 248, 249 Turkish 219, 243, 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 254, 257, 258, 259, 261 U Ubangi 318 Udmurt 249, 251, 252, 255, 259, 260 Uralic 243, 244, 247, 248, 249, 250, 254, 260, 261 Uto-Aztecan 35, 212 W Waata 318 Wambaya 82 Warray 82 Warrwa 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 75, 76, 77, 80, 82 Y Yawuru 67, 71, 83 Yucatec Maya 248, 249, 251, 252, 253, 257, 258, 259 Yuma 212 Yuman 212
Index of authors
A Aklif, G. 73, 79, 82 Alcover, A. 210 Anschutz, A. 33 Anscombre, J.-C. 152 Apothéloz, D. 247 Armbruster, C. H. 259 Aziz, Y. Y. 247
Clark, E. V. 5, 6, 85 Claudi, U. 117, 133, 134, 135, 138, 249, 250, 255, 260, 323 Collinder, B. 248 Comrie, B. 249 Corblin, F. 148, 240 Cristea, T. 22 Cyr, D. 250
B Babby, L. H. 100 Baker, M. 254, 298, 300 Bally, C. 30, 192, 227, 238, 240, 286, 287, 304 Barker, C. 65, 174 Barnes, M. P. 208 Baron, I. 2, 3, 5, 8, 9, 14, 27, 63, 65, 85, 88, 94, 97, 147, 148, 152, 158, 178, 238, 316 Barshi, Y. 270 Bartning, I. 11, 13, 147, 148, 149, 151, 152, 155, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 164 Baskakov, N. A. 250 Bates, D. M. 70 Bauer, W. 216 Bavin, E. L. 22 Bechert, J. 248, 262 Bennett, C. 271, 277 Benveniste, E. 9, 13, 33, 81, 83, 85, 86, 97, 121 Bilý, M. 101 Blake, B. J. 133, 287, 299 Boas, F. 285, 288, 289, 290, 292, 293, 294, 295, 296, 297, 300, 304, 305, 306, 307 Bolkestein, A. M. 17, 272, 275, 276, 280, 282 Bonnard, H. 199 Brenzinger, M. 319, 327 Brès, J. 239 Broschart, J. 40
D Dahl, Ö. 12, 13, 202, 203, 204, 208 Décsy, G. 250, 254 Deloria, E. 292, 293, 295, 300, 306, 307 Dench, A. 223 Diderichsen, P. 51, 120, 125 Dik, S. C. 271, 281, 282 Domokos, P. 248 Dryer, M. S. 262 Ducrot, O. 239 Durieux, F. 149 Durst-Andersen, P. 12, 51, 99, 100, 104 Dyen, I. 223
C Cadiot, P. 147, 153 Cain, B. 257, 264 Carlson, G. N. 177 Chafe, W. L. 240 Chappell, H. 22, 27, 67, 201, 209, 238, 286, 287, 299 Christiansen, H. B. 222 Christie, J. J. 5 Christophersen, P. 240
E Ebert, K. 215 Eisenberg, P. 118 Engberg-Pedersen, E. 132, 143 Englebert, A. 148 Englund, J. 271 Engwall, G. 152, 164 Epstein, R. 244, 246 Ergin, M. 254 Eriksson, O. 148 Ernout, A. 272 Escandell Vidal, M. V. 169 Evans, N. 17, 211, 212 F Fillmore, C. 118, 119, 128, 131 Flaux, N. 154 Fónagy, I. 188 Formiga, M. A. 239 Fox, B. 238 Fradin, B. 153, 157 Frajzyngier, Z. 244, 263 Franks, S. 100 Fraurud, K. 12, 148, 151, 243, 245, 263 Freeze, R. 5, 85
Index of authors
G Gaatone, D. 152, 199 Geeraerts, D. 172 Gili Gaya, S. 169 Givón, T. 231, 240, 256 Godard, D. 158, 160, 161 Goodman, N. 200 Greenberg, J. H. 213, 214, 244, 254, 263 Greimas, A. J. 86 Grimes, J. E. 264 Grimshaw, J. 95, 118, 135 Grönbech, K. 248 Gross, G. 152, 160, 162 Gruber, J. S. 118, 119 Guillaume, G. 152 Guillet, A. 5, 88 H Haiman, J. 240 Hajdú, P. 248 Halliday, M. A. K. 119, 129 Hannay, M. 280, 282 Hansen, E. 116, 126 Harder, P. 132, 143 Haspelmath, M. 16, 18, 20, 207, 209 Havers, W. 270 Hawkins, J. A. 245, 252 Heine, B. 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 11, 21, 27, 38, 65, 70, 87, 117, 133, 134, 135, 138, 150, 158, 169, 238, 249, 250, 255, 260, 263, 269, 313, 316, 317, 318, 323 Heltoft, L. 5, 8, 12, 119, 129, 143, 144 Herslund, M. 2, 3, 5, 8, 14, 18, 20, 22, 27, 51, 63, 65, 85, 86, 88, 95, 97, 103, 121, 125, 135, 144, 147, 148, 152, 158, 176, 200, 238, 287, 316 Himmelmann, N. P. 244, 247 Hjelmslev, L. 133 Hoffmann, J. B. 271, 272 Hopper, P. J. 249 Hosokawa, K. 67, 82 Howe, C. J. 174 Høysgaard, J. P. 116 Hünnemeyer, F. 117, 133, 134, 135, 138, 249, 250, 255, 260, 323 Hymes, D. 290, 296, 304 I Isacˇenko, A. V. 5, 9, 10, 22 J Jackendoff, R. M. 65, 118, 119 Jakobsen, L. F. 143 Janhunen, J. 251, 255 Jansen, L. 101 Johanson, L. 248, 263 Johnson-Laird, P. N. 317 Jonasson, K. 247
Jonsson, N. 206, 217 Josefsson, G. 17 Junker, M.-O. 200 K Kapeliuk, O. 259 Kleiber, G. 148, 151, 152, 153, 154, 157, 163, 240, 247 Köhler, O. 327 König, E. 16, 18, 20, 209 Koptjevskaja-Tamm, M. 12, 13, 208 Kotschi, T. 9 Krámský, J. 248, 249 Kuehner, R. 271, 272 L Lagunilla, M. F. 169 Langacker, R. W. 45, 50, 52, 152 Lass, R. 314 Laury, R. 244, 246 Leclère, C. 5, 22, 88 Lehmann, C. 27, 247, 248, 253, 254, 260 Leinonen, M. 248 Leonard, H. S. 200 Leslau, W. 259 Levander, L. 207 Levi, J. 152 Lévy-Bruhl, L. 227, 238 Liedtke, F. 282 Lockwood, W. B. 208 Loefstedt, B. 271, 282 Loefstedt, E. 271 Löfström, J. 203 Lucchesi, D. 239 Luraghi, S. 138 Luxt, L. I. 109 Lyons, J. 5, 74, 85, 97, 246 M McGregor, W. B. 11, 22, 27, 67, 74, 75, 76, 83, 201, 209, 238, 286, 287, 299 Manoliu-Manea, M. 20, 22, 287, 305 Martineau, F. 200 Martinet, A. 239 Mazzie, C. 249 Menges, K. H. 254, 264 Merlan, F. 217 Metcalfe, C. D. 82 Miller, G. A. 317 Milner, J.-C. 154, 155, 158, 239 Mithun, M. 12, 17, 20, 295 Moll, F. 210 Müller, H. H. 13, 94, 178 N Nekes, H. 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 74, 79, 83 Nichols, J. 101, 210
Index of authors
Nilsson, B. 249 Nygaard, M. 1, 139 O Oennerfors, A. 271 P Partridge, M. 15 Payne, D. L. 217, 270 Petersmann, H. 271 Plank, F. 246 Popescu-Ramírez, L. 22 Pustejovsky, J. 86, 152 R Raun, A. 250 Rebollo, A. A. 169 Reboul, A. 153 Rédei, K. 248, 252 Reichler-Béguelin, M.-J. 247 Rice, K. 217, 218 Riegel, M. 12, 149, 152, 154, 156, 158, 196, 198, 199, 200 S Sanders, G. A. 314 Sankoff, G. 249 Sasse, H. J. 116 Schapira, C. 162 Schroeder, C. 252, 258, 264 Seiler, H. 2, 5, 9, 10, 12, 13, 27, 28, 33, 35, 39, 85, 86, 97, 147, 149, 238, 240, 312 Serzisko, F. 215 Sinor, D. 261 Slobin, D. 174 Smith, J. C. 281 Sørensen, F. 1, 5, 13, 85, 94, 95, 144 Spang-Hanssen, E. 152 Spanoghe, A.-M. 5, 12, 14, 18, 200, 238, 239, 240 Stage, L. 152, 178 Steensland, L. 207
Stegmann, C. 271, 272 Stokes, B. 68, 69, 73, 75, 79, 82 Suihkonen, P. 251 Szantyr, A. 271, 272 T Tasmowski-De Ryck L. 22 Taylor, J. R. 27, 47, 327 Teleman, U. 263 Teyssier, P. 239 Thomas, F. 271 Timoc-Bardy, R. 22 Togeby, O. 1, 21, 47 Traugott, E. C. 249 U Uibopuu, V. 248 Uhlenbeck, C. C. 228, 238 V Van Hoecke, W. 271 Velázquez-Castillo, M. 14, 20, 211 Vet, C. 271, 281, 282 Villiers, J. G. de 174 Villiers, P. A. de 174 Vossen, R. 319 W Walsh, M. 17 Warren, B. 152 Weinrich, H. 27 Weyhe, E. 208 Whorf, B. L. 101 Wichmann, Y. 255 Widell, P. 47 Wierzbicka, A. 7, 97 Winston, M. E. 152 Worms, E. A. 67, 68, 69, 72, 73, 74, 79, 83 Z Žurinskaja, M. A. 103
Index of subjects
A absolutive 211, 296, 297, 300, 304, 306, 308 accompaniment 32, 47, 54, 317, 325 accusative 34, 68, 75, 76, 77, 83, 100, 102, 107, 108, 112, 140, 143, 273, 276, 279, 282 affectedness 46, 51, 52, 54, 271, 279, 291, 292, 296, 297, 299, 301, 302, 303, 304, 305, 306, 308 affix 211, 244, 250, 259, 287 agent 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 34, 70, 75, 92, 118, 119, 136, 154, 156, 160, 162, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 307 alienable possession 2, 12, 57, 64, 227, 286, 288, 289, 299, 301, 308 anaphora 151, 161, 245, 246, 247, 249, 252, 253, 259, 260, 261 anchor 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 209, 211, 214, 215, 219, 221, 245, 253, 258, 260, 261 animacy 288, 304, 305, 308 applicative 298, 301 argument 5, 15, 22, 58, 64, 88, 89, 90, 95, 96, 126, 149, 152, 178, 180, 185, 195, 212, 279, 286, 287, 296, 297, 300, 308 associative (relation, anaphora) 70, 73, 78, 240, 245, 247, 249, 252, 253, 259, 260, 261 attributive possession 4, 12, 13, 14, 15, 151, 243, 255, 263, 269, 285, 287, 300, 308, 312, 313, 315, 316, 317, 327 auxiliary (verb) 3, 32, 52, 67, 80
D dative 16, 17, 19, 22, 27, 28, 31, 32, 33, 34, 38, 43, 50, 54, 83, 100, 101, 102, 104, 105, 106, 107, 109, 111, 112, 115, 117, 134, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 198, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 281, 282, 286, 287, 295, 296, 297, 298, 300, 301, 303, 304, 306, 307, 308, 317, 319, 325 definite article 28, 34, 97, 187, 188, 197, 205, 210, 213, 220, 221, 222, 223, 228, 231, 232, 233, 235, 239, 240, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 257, 259, 260, 262, 263 demonstrative 244, 246, 248, 257, 263 determiner 22, 147, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 188, 189, 198, 204, 222, 228, 230, 231, 232, 233, 235, 239, 244, 246, 263, 286
B background 203, 231 body part (terms) 30, 54, 180, 201, 208, 209, 211, 213, 215, 227, 228, 233, 235, 237, 240, 277, 278, 279, 286, 301
F focus 79, 260, 261, 282, 292 foreground 231
C classifier 32, 35 clitic 16, 22, 174, 215, 217, 243, 244, 250, 259 co-subject 116, 126, 127 comitative 27, 81, 83, 115, 116, 117, 126, 131, 132, 134, 135, 136, 138, 140, 141, 142, 143, 317, 319 control 29, 44, 46, 51, 52, 54, 72, 73, 76, 78, 99, 129, 130, 171, 187, 196, 295 copula 68, 74, 75, 80, 83, 320, 321, 323, 327
E ergative 68, 75, 76, 83, 212, 296 established possession 39 existence 34, 85, 101, 316 experience 12, 18, 21, 22, 51, 52, 54, 109, 316 experiencer 4, 5, 12, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 34, 49, 143, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 281, 282 experient 118, 143 external possession 4, 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 67, 209, 270
G genitive 1, 2, 4, 14, 16, 28, 31, 32, 33, 34, 38, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 54, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 87, 97, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 106, 112, 128, 129, 139, 154, 155, 156, 159, 170, 204, 207, 208, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 282, 316, 317, 318, 319 grammaticalization 117, 119, 133, 134, 135, 150, 209, 210, 211, 213, 221, 222, 244, 245, 247, 249, 250, 254, 255, 258, 259, 260, 313, 321, 323
Index of subjects
I inalienable possession 2, 11, 12, 57, 64, 76, 103, 123, 157, 227, 232, 286, 287, 288, 289, 299, 301, 308, 313, 316 inclusion 8, 63, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 103, 105, 107, 112 incorporation 16, 209, 286, 298, 299, 303 indefinite article 228, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 237, 239, 240, 256 indirect object 30, 43, 47, 49, 50, 51, 54, 107, 116, 124, 125, 228, 229 inherent possession 34, 39 instrument 49, 118, 131, 134, 135, 136, 138, 141 instrumental 27, 32, 38, 100, 101, 102, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 112, 115, 117, 123, 130, 134, 136, 139, 140 inversion 29, 30, 34, 36, 37, 38, 39 isotopic chain 86, 92 K kin terms 30, 36, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 221, 222, 223 kinship 3, 11, 13, 16, 35, 45, 97, 152, 157, 170, 180, 182, 184, 190, 191, 194, 195, 196, 197, 201, 207, 208, 211, 212, 213, 214, 216, 227, 240 L location 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 12, 18, 21, 22, 32, 35, 44, 46, 49, 51, 52, 54, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63, 64, 65, 85, 89, 90, 96, 123, 137, 157, 158, 161, 170, 172, 269, 316, 317, 318, 319, 320, 323, 324, 325 locative 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 14, 19, 20, 21, 22, 38, 83, 85, 86, 97, 100, 123, 129, 136, 137, 138, 140, 142, 151, 153, 154, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 174, 179, 183, 184, 185, 198, 206, 274, 317, 318, 320, 321, 323, 324, 325, 327 M manner 134, 135, 136, 143 mereological 188, 198 meronymy 44, 45, 46, 51, 52, 54, 120, 122, 127, 128, 130, 131, 132 modifier 188, 189, 269, 276, 277, 287, 317, 325 N nominalization 149, 178, 185 nominative 75, 83, 100, 105, 112, 141, 143, 207, 213 O oblique object 105, 109, 112, 228 P part–whole 8, 11, 31, 86, 89, 90, 97, 123, 151,
159, 161, 163, 227, 238, 253, 303 partitivity 288, 303, 308, 316 passive 6, 7, 10, 11, 50, 111, 112, 120, 124, 126, 279 patient 5, 8, 10, 159, 278, 295, 298, 300, 307, 308 polysemy 134, 147, 155, 158 possessee 2, 59, 65, 216, 258, 269, 270, 272, 274, 277, 281, 312, 317, 318, 319, 320, 321, 323, 324, 325 possessor 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 28, 30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 37, 39, 47, 49, 58, 59, 65, 67, 68, 74, 75, 76, 79, 81, 83, 85, 95, 96, 99, 100, 105, 107, 108, 109, 110, 112, 118, 201, 204, 209, 211, 216, 218, 229, 230, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 239, 240, 258, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 277, 278, 279, 281, 286, 287, 291, 297, 299, 300, 301, 304, 305, 312, 317, 318, 319, 320, 321, 324 possessor ascension 4, 14, 201, 209, 270, 287 possessum 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 17, 19, 20, 21, 28, 30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 37, 39, 68, 74, 75, 76, 81, 83, 95, 96, 97, 99, 100, 104, 105, 107, 111, 112, 312, 320 predicative possession 2, 4, 9, 15, 19, 67, 81, 82, 243, 269, 312, 315, 316, 317, 319, 325, 326 prefix 9, 36, 68, 75, 217, 251, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 304, 306, 307 preposition 7, 8, 10, 20, 22, 43, 47, 54, 58, 85, 87, 89, 100, 110, 116, 126, 135, 143, 147, 150, 169, 172, 173, 175, 177, 178, 179, 184, 206 pronoun 22, 34, 36, 43, 125, 204, 208, 209, 211, 217, 250, 251, 253, 260, 280, 282 proprial 206, 207, 213 prototypicality 171, 172, 173, 184, 199 Q Qualia structure 86, 152 R reflexive 34, 68, 125, 251, 296, 297, 300, 303, 304, 307 relational noun 3, 13, 86, 88, 157, 181, 182, 183, 184 S stimulus 5, 22 sub-place 8, 19, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97 suffix 36, 83, 215, 217, 227, 248, 251, 264, 297, 298, 300, 301 T topic 9, 10, 12, 14, 76, 101, 312, 316, 317, 318, 319 topicality 258, 282, 288, 305 transitivity 22, 34, 68, 81
In the series TYPOLOGICAL STUDIES IN LANGUAGE (TSL) the following titles have been published thus far: 1. HOPPER, Paul J. (ed.): Tense-Aspect: Between semantics & pragmatics. 1982. 2. HAIMAN, John & Pamela MUNRO (eds): Switch Reference and Universal Grammar. Proceedings of a symposium on switch reference and universal grammar, Winnipeg, May 1981. 1983. 3. GIVÓN, T.: Topic Continuity in Discourse. A quantitative cross-language study. 1983. 4. CHISHOLM, William, Louis T. MILIC & John A.C. GREPPIN (eds): Interrogativity: A colloquium on the grammar, typology and pragmatics of questions in seven diverse languages, Cleveland, Ohio, October 5th 1981-May 3rd 1982. 1984. 5. RUTHERFORD, William E. (ed.): Language Universals and Second Language Acquisition. 1984 (2nd ed. 1987). 6. HAIMAN, John (Ed.): Iconicity in Syntax. Proceedings of a symposium on iconicity in syntax, Stanford, June 24-26, 1983. 1985. 7. CRAIG, Colette (ed.): Noun Classes and Categorization. Proceedings of a symposium on categorization and noun classification, Eugene, Oregon, October 1983. 1986. 8. SLOBIN, Dan I. & Karl ZIMMER (eds): Studies in Turkish Linguistics. 1986. 9. BYBEE, Joan L.: Morphology. A Study of the Relation between Meaning and Form. 1985. 10. RANSOM, Evelyn: Complementation: its Meaning and Forms. 1986. 11. TOMLIN, Russel S.: Coherence and Grounding in Discourse. Outcome of a Symposium, Eugene, Oregon, June 1984. 1987. 12. NEDJALKOV, Vladimir (ed.): Typology of Resultative Constructions. Translated from the original Russian edition (1983). English translation edited by Bernard Comrie. 1988. 14. HINDS, John, Shoichi IWASAKI & Senko K. MAYNARD (eds): Perspectives on Topicalization. The case of Japanese WA. 1987. 15. AUSTIN, Peter (ed.): Complex Sentence Constructions in Australian Languages. 1988. 16. SHIBATANI, Masayoshi (ed.): Passive and Voice. 1988. 17. HAMMOND, Michael, Edith A. MORAVCSIK and Jessica WIRTH (eds): Studies in Syntactic Typology. 1988. 18. HAIMAN, John & Sandra A. THOMPSON (eds): Clause Combining in Grammar and Discourse. 1988. 19. TRAUGOTT, Elizabeth C. and Bernd HEINE (eds): Approaches to Grammaticalization, 2 volumes (set) 1991 20. CROFT, William, Suzanne KEMMER and Keith DENNING (eds): Studies in Typology and Diachrony. Papers presented to Joseph H. Greenberg on his 75th birthday. 1990. 21. DOWNING, Pamela, Susan D. LIMA and Michael NOONAN (eds): The Linguistics of Literacy. 1992. 22. PAYNE, Doris (ed.): Pragmatics of Word Order Flexibility. 1992. 23. KEMMER, Suzanne: The Middle Voice. 1993. 24. PERKINS, Revere D.: Deixis, Grammar, and Culture. 1992. 25. SVOROU, Soteria: The Grammar of Space. 1994. 26. LORD, Carol: Historical Change in Serial Verb Constructions. 1993. 27. FOX, Barbara and Paul J. Hopper (eds): Voice: Form and Function. 1994. 28. GIVÓN, T. (ed.) : Voice and Inversion. 1994. 29. KAHREL, Peter and René van den BERG (eds): Typological Studies in Negation. 1994.
30. DOWNING, Pamela and Michael NOONAN: Word Order in Discourse. 1995. 31. GERNSBACHER, M. A. and T. GIVÓN (eds): Coherence in Spontaneous Text. 1995. 32. BYBEE, Joan and Suzanne FLEISCHMAN (eds): Modality in Grammar and Discourse. 1995. 33. FOX, Barbara (ed.): Studies in Anaphora. 1996. 34. GIVÓN, T. (ed.): Conversation. Cognitive, communicative and social perspectives. 1997. 35. GIVÓN, T. (ed.): Grammatical Relations. A functionalist perspective. 1997. 36. NEWMAN, John (ed.): The Linguistics of Giving. 1998. 37. RAMAT, Anna Giacalone and Paul J. HOPPER (eds): The Limits of Grammaticalization. 1998. 38. SIEWIERSKA, Anna and Jae Jung SONG (eds): Case, Typology and Grammar. In honor of Barry J. Blake. 1998. 39. PAYNE, Doris L. and Immanuel BARSHI (eds.): External Possession. 1999. 40. FRAJZYNGIER, Zygmunt and Traci S. CURL (eds.): Reflexives. Forms and functions. 2000. 41. FRAJZYNGIER, Zygmunt and Traci S. CURL (eds): Reciprocals. Forms and functions. 2000. 42. DIESSEL, Holger: Demonstratives. Form, function and grammaticalization. 1999. 43. GILDEA, Spike (ed.): Reconstructing Grammar. Comparative Linguistics and Grammaticalization. 2000. 44. VOELTZ, F.K. Erhard and Christa KILIAN-HATZ (eds.): Ideophones. 2001. 45. BYBEE, Joan and Paul HOPPER (eds.): Frequency and the Emergence of Linguistic Structure. 2001. 46. AIKHENVALD, Alexandra Y., R.M.W. DIXON and Masayuki ONISHI (eds.): Noncanonical Marking of Subjects and Objects. 2001. 47. BARON, Irene, Michael HERSLUND and Finn SORENSEN (eds.): Dimensions of Possession. 2001. 48. SHIBATANI, Masayoshi (ed.): The Grammar of Causation and Interpersonal Manipulation. n.y.p. 49. WISCHER, Ilse and Gabriele DIEWALD (eds.): New Reflections on Grammaticalization. n.y.p. 50. FEIGENBAUM, Susanne and Dennis KURZON (eds.): Prepositions in their Syntactic, Semantic and Pragmatic Context. n.y.p.
