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9月4日 Some good old-fashioned thematic rolesIn English, you have subject > direct objects > indirect objects > obliques. In Sayula, you have primary objects > secondary objects. How does this work out?
Consider a simple transitive sentence: I tore the book. Here ‘the book’ is the patient. I read the book. Here ‘the book’ is the theme.
Now consider a ditransitive sentence: I gave the book to the boy. ‘The book’ is the theme, and ‘the boy’ is the recipient.
(Please note that this depends upon a fairly conservative and partially confused theory of thematic roles. But think of ‘patients’ as something that undergo change, ‘themes’ as things that are manipulated but not changed. You already know what recipients are.)
In a primary/secondary language, the recipient in the ditransitive gets treated the same way as the theme in the simple transitive. My notes on all of this aren’t terribly clear. It’s worth checking out Matt Dreyer’s 1977 article about primary/secondary and direct/indirect objects.
Passives in SayulaSayula doesn’t really do passives other than the word for ‘eclipse’ (lit, ‘it gets swallowed’), which it uses the passive marker is j Boundary blocks voicing, news at 11The way you say, ‘the one who comes’ in Sayula is mimpay, min+p+ay, and since you’ve got an /n/ by a /p/, the /n/à/m/.
Now, by rights, the /p/ should voice—it’s between two voiced sounds, right? But there’s actually a word boundary at work here: mimp#ay, so the /p/ stays a /p/.
(This happens for all the clitics, too. ‘He definitely comes’ = mimpama7 Body part funMesoAmerica is famous for using body parts in fun ways, so you get ‘head’ used for ‘up’ and ‘stomach’ used for ‘in’. Then these (maybe) get grammaticalized as prepositions.
Sayula names body parts with other body parts—they have a bit of an impoverished system. So the same word jo:t, is used for heart and liver. (Maybe Spanish has just taken over?)
My favorites, though:
Finger = ‘nose of the hand’ Elbow = ‘rear end of the arm’
Transitives: MesoAmerica vs. EnglishThere are four types of verbs in Sayula Popoluca:
vi = true intransitives (‘I sleep’)
vt1 = allow agent intransitives, like ‘eat’ in English (‘I eat’ means that I’m doing the eating, not that I’m being eaten)
vt2 = allow patient intransitives, like ‘burn’ in English (‘I burn the paper’ is okay, but if you say ‘I burn’ then you’re talking about the burning happening to you (not that you’re burning something).
vt3 = true transitives
In other words, if vt1 or vt2 occur with a single argument, that argument is understood to be the agent or patient, respectively.
English has relatively few vt1’s and vt2’s, MesoAmerica has a lot. In Sayula, kew7 ('cook') is vi. There is no agent and the patient is obligatory (it's what gets cooked). To have an agent, you have to add a causative morpheme. This shows that you can't just look at the basic meaning to determine what class a verb is. For fun, think about the intransitive English verb, 'dream'. (You can only maybe have a cognate object: 'I dream a dream'.) But in Ojibwe, bwaaN is a vt3. So it's a true transitive there, where you have to have both the agent and the patient. If you just want to say, 'I dreamt', you have to use the antipassive morpheme that itself means 'about something I'm not specifying'. Why'd you put that person there if you put that aspect here?There are a bunch of quasi-auxiliary uses for some verbs, especially verbs of motion and starting/stopping verbs.
n 7oy = ‘go and come back’ min = ‘come’ chu:chiy = ‘start, begin’ k
When these are working in an auxiliary way, person markers don’t go where you think they would.
(1) chú:chiw t Ø aux+aspect person number Ø (subordinate present tense) ‘I started to work.’
(2) t ‘I started working.’
It’s very weird that (2) has the person in the middle, which is why it’s worth paying attention to. The auxiliary carries the aspect, the lexical verb carries the person. [ In Mayan, auxiliaries don't have any explicit aspect, so it isn't as obvious that the things you expect in one place are in two. ] 'Want' is like this in Sayula, too, which is like equi-NP deletion: 'I want to go' = [I want [I go]] but you cross out that interior I. In Sayula: [I want [I go]] crosses off that first I. I'm unclear on whether this may happen with Verb+preposition, too. Speaking of these auxiliaries, Zoque languages don't have a future tense like Sayula. They use 'go' or another auxiliary to do the future. So where did Mixe's funny future comes from? Perhaps Sayula's future wa7n comes from 'want/like', wamp.
How do you find a sentence in Sayula?Sayula sentences were awfully hard to put a cap on. Finding clause boundaries isn’t easy in Sayula (and our texts were all without punctuation to help).
There are some clause-initial clues (very few at the end of the clause):
There's a lot of 7i n To die for-ó7k is an ‘augmentative’ affix that you can add to adjectives and verbs. It’s basically ‘very’. But it seems to come from the root for ‘die’, so it has the look of something that should be compounded. Sayula speakers don’t recognize the connection between pò7pó7k (‘it’s very white’) and 7ó7k (‘to die’), but Rich is pretty sure that’s the origin. Hence, a better gloss:
pò7pó7k = ‘white to die for’ Tricky cliticsNow the most vexing of the clitics is –jamà7, which is glossed as ‘definitely’. But the thing is that the /j/ never really shows up and it seems to be more of a text structuring device than a way of saying, ‘definitely’—all the other clitics are semantically driven, but –jamà7 doesn’t seem to be. It does help identify where a clause is coming to a close and there’s probably only ever one per clause.
Part of the deal with clitics is that they tack on to anything and they tack on the far edge. But all Sayula clitics seem to pay attention to the meaning of the word they’re going on to. They distribute themselves phrasally.
Most clitics have some semantic property in common. In Sayula, that’s playing off of a presupposition—perhaps a change of state, for example.
t pó7panu = ‘it’s white now’ té:tanu = ‘now he’s a father’ (you know it’s third-person because there’s no person marker)
It’s also a little weird that Sayula clitics have stress. If you stack up things with primary stress, usually the last one keeps it and the others shift to secondary levels. Stress in Sayula is pretty complicated and may be like English—partly word, partly phrasal. It’s a good, hard problem worth more study.
The intonation of ‘it’s also very white’ is kind of like a roller coaster—it’s unclear what level of stress the second syllable gets: pò7po7géy
This is a word with three stresses stacked. The original field worker thought that /// went to \-/ but the intonation pattern is a little different than that. Maybe /// à (imagine a picture of two hills with a valley in the middle).
ParticiplesSome of us may remember that participles are a form of the verb that can make complex tenses, like “loving” and “loved”. In English these can also be used as adjectives (http://encarta.msn.com/encnet/features/dictionary/DictionaryResults.aspx?refid=1861723966).
There are two kinds of participles in Sayula.
-ay is a bit like ‘-ing’ in English. It has a sort of present tense sense. -ik is a ‘past passive’ like ‘-en’ in English.
That means that if you get –p (which indicates an incompletive action) and –ay together, you have a ‘doer’: yóxwátpay, which is literally “work+make+incompletive+relative” = ‘worker’. You see –pay all of the time in Sayula.
I think –ik is a little less common and is usually part of the stem. Here’s one I just found in the dictionary: yó7kpénik, which is literally “neck+smash+past.passive” = ‘strangled’.
Fathering and whiting: notions and inflectionsWith Sayula, you get a bunch of inflection happening after the stem, but you have some stuff happening in prefixes, too, like person markers and negatives.
pó7p = ‘white’ t pó7jpat = ‘white things’
t
But if the predicative noun is notially transitive you can do fun things with it (note that 'white' is inherently intransitive, relations like 'father' are notionally transitive; all other nouns are ambiguous about transitive/intransitive slicing):
t
From The Story of White Flower (tx 2.52.4 – 2.53.1)
For intransitive forms, you use: I (1st) = t We (1st inclusive or indefinite) = na You (2nd) = mi [ 3rd person = Ø ] For transitive or possesor forms: I/my = t Us/our = na You/your = 7in Him/his = 7i
Plurals really come in through plural inflection: -ka- or –k
These notionally transitive nouns can also be subjective to more complicated relationships:
t t
5月7日 MorphophonemicsGeneral rules Obstruents: C1 [+obsruent] à j / _C1
Non-obstruents: C1[-obsruent] à Ø / _C1
J deletion: j à Ø / _x
Metathesis: CjV[-stress] à jCV
J cluster simplification: j à Ø / _CC (see above)
Special rules ppàp nnàny Vw [+lab] à V: [+lab] nà [a place] / __ [a place] in close construction (see 9/14/05 handout for more)
Verbs marking the subject and an object (inverses, to boot)
In Sayula, these change if the verb is subordinate. (The trick for translators is to figure out when something looks independent but is subordinate.)
Independent Subordinate Incompletive -p -Ø Completive -w -j Future -áj -wá7n
These are the people in your neighborhoodFirst, second, third, inclusive, exclusive, plural
Singular Plural 1st exclusive t 1st inclusive na- -ka 2nd mi- -ka 3rd Ø -ka
As with French and languages all over the world, the indefinite (“one”) is expressed in the first person inclusive. This link between first person inclusive and indefinite is worth thinking further about, though I don’t have any ideas myself.
Tenses and aspects
Sayula is an aspectual language. So that means that instead of past/present/future, you get:
MetathesisMetathesis (the swapping of sounds) is sensitive to stress:
(1) wàyját (2) wàjyat
Here is an interesting thing to try to work out in Optimality Theory:
(3) t (4) t
The apparent rule is j à Ø / __CC, but there are two words that retain their /j/’s.
(5) tzajp ‘sky’ (6) n
The way to solve this is to look at the Protowords. Some of them used to have word final vowels and some of them didn’t.
(7) *t (8) *kama
This is important because all syllable-final obstruents got aspiration in Mixe.
(9) *t (10) *kama (no /j/ because there was a vowel at the end)
This was further generalized so that not only did syllable-final obstruents get aspiration, but other consonants did, too.
(11) *j
So there are two ways to deal with this:
Terry’s historical way: insert the /j/ for words that end in consonants and then delete the vowel for words that end in vowels—that way they won’t have /j/’s. a. *t b. *kama=*kamaà*kam
Rich’s lexicon way: mark words like ‘sky’ and ‘name’ as exceptional. Then just have an underlying j and say that jCC à CC. Rich doesn’t want synchronic facts to need to refer to history.
Sayula and Spanish
When you read Sayula, you'll find a fair amount of Spanish. You can go back to some older texts but some of the ones from the 1970s actually have even more Spanish. Spanish words aren't all incorporated in the same way. Some of them are just thrown into the middle of an otherwise purely Sayula sentence, this is called code mixing. You'll find things like alegre, en trozo, prueba dropped in this way.
The next level is when you start making minor adjustments and making the words a little more Sayula-ish. For example, cuentoàkwé:ntuj (note the raising of o to u, especially after a stress).
Finally, you might just totally nativize a Spanish word: tulópi7 (from golpe), ‘strike, blow’ (my 9/7/05 handout has other fun examples).
This all makes it a little hard about how to indicate Spanish words. In English when we talk about ennui we throw it in italics, but what would you italicize in Sayula? (1) kam+jat (corn field + plural) à kájmat ‘corn fields’ (2) veridajtat ‘truths’
What do you italicize in (2) to indicate the Spanish root?
What about in (3)? In the resulting form ordena7jat, who does the /n/ belong to? Spanish or Sayula?
(3) órden-na7 + jat à órdenà7jat
4月7日 The controversial /j/What's the root? (1) t (2) t
Historically, the /j/ was inserted but it’s less clear what’s happening synchronically. That’s a matter of some controversy.
Definitions Synchronic linguistics look at language at a particular point in time; diachronic linguistics (aka historical linguistics) looks at language over time. In the case of the /j/ above, the problem is that, sure, in the past there wasn't a /j/, then there was and now there is, but how does it function in the language right now? Speakers don't know that it wasn't there and now it is--yet they treat it in special ways and can make distinctions between words that historically never had the /j/ and still don't and those that do have the /j/ but didn't a few hundred years ago: The phonology of compoundingThere are at least three degrees of closeness for compounding. Rich uses "=", "-" and "." to indicate these degrees.
When you have greater degree of closeness, the sounds affect each other:
Note that n-g contrasts with ŋ.g. You can’t tell the difference between n-d and n.d. 4月6日 The basic sounds of SayulaYou can get three types of vowels in Sayula.
People who are writing or transcribing often get the glottal stops wrong (for example, in the text I worked on there were lots of “i7” that should have been “7i”).
The actual vowels are:
i e o a
As for consonants:
There’s a tendency to have a weak breathiness at the ends of words. That’s carried over into the Spanish these folks speak.
You don’t really get *CCC in a morpheme except for with a glottal stop, for example ta7kx, ‘shed light on’.
There are some other morpheme limitations: *NC, *jC, *xC, *Cx, *Ctz. (NB: My notes make it unclear whether these are allowed or unallowed—see handout from 9/7/05.)
Definitions C-Consonant V-Vowel |
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